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writer-freak · 5 months ago

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Late night call | Atsumu x Gn reader

Summary: Playing for MSBY is Atsumu's dream, but it means being apart from you. He travels away for a week and you both aren't doing well with the distance but you always make time for each other.

Warnings: NSFW, smut, fluff, gn reader, reader is mentioned to wear lingerie, used the word core for reader, time skip Atsumu, phone sex, english isn't my first language, smut is maybe not that great

A/n: My Haikyuu phase is back and I have written so much stuff for Haiykuu in the last few days. Also am currently trying my hand more on smut but I still have some struggles with it. So I wrote something more sweet at the beginning.

Comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated and really motivate me to write more <3

Atsumu had been dreading this trip for weeks. Playing for the MSBY Black Jackals was a dream come true, but it came with its challenges, including time away from you. He kissed you goodbye at the door, holding you a little longer than usual, not wanting to let go.

"I'll miss ya." he murmured against your hair, his voice full of reluctance.

"I'll miss you too, 'Tsumu. It's only for a week." you reassured him, even though you felt the same way.

He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Yeah, just for a week." The days apart were harder than either of you anticipated. Despite the time difference, Atsumu made it a point to text you whenever he had a free moment. His messages were like always full of jokes, but you could tell he was struggling with the distance. You also missed him terribly, counting down the days until he would be back.

After practice, Atsumu was even more exhausted than usual but still, he couldn't wait to hear your voice. He sat down on his bed before dialing your number and waiting, a small smile forming on his lips when he heard you answer.

"Hey, 'Tsumu! How was practice?" "Hey, babe. It was good, just long. I miss ya." he admitted, leaning back against the headboard and closing his eyes, just taking in the sound of your voice.

"I miss you too. Want me to tell you about my day?" you offered, hoping to maybe take his mind off for a moment.

"Yeah, please. I wanna hear all about it." he said, his voice showing signs of fatigue.

You started talking about your day, recounting all the little things that had happened. You could hear him responding every now and then, but the responses started to get fewer and fewer. Eventually, you heard his breathing even out, a soft snore escaping his lips.

You paused, realizing he had fallen asleep. Warmth spread through your chest, appreciating just how much he cared. Despite being exhausted, he had still made the effort to call you and listen to you talk about your day. It was moments like these that reminded you just how much he loved you.

"Goodnight, 'Tsumu." you whispered, not wanting to wake him. You stayed on the line, listening to his steady breathing, feeling a little more like he was next to you even though he was miles away. You eventually fell asleep with the phone still next to your ear, lulled to sleep by the sound of his soft snores.

The next morning, you woke up to a text from Atsumu.

"Sorry, I fell asleep on ya, babe. But I loved hearing about your day. Can't wait to see ya soon. Love ya."

The next day, after particularly grueling practice, Atsumu was finally back in his hotel room, exhausted but missing you terribly. He took a quick shower, the hot water soothing his sore muscles. As he dried off, he got an idea, a way of apologizing for yesterday while also teasing you just a little. With a smirk, he positioned himself in front of the mirror, snapping a picture of his shirtless torso, droplets of water still clinging to his skin, his abs and chest glistening. He sent it to you with a teasing message.

"Wish ya were here to help me dry off ;)"

Your phone buzzed, and your eyes widened at the image. Heat pooled in your core as you took in the sight of him. You bit your lip, deciding to play along. You changed into a lacy piece of lingerie, snapping a picture of yourself lying on the bed, the fabric leaving little to the imagination.

"Maybe I'll save that for when you get back. For now, here's something to keep you company."

Atsumu's breath hitched when he saw your photo, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten. He typed back quickly, his heart racing. "Damn, babe, ya know how to drive me crazy. I can't wait to get back and have ya all to myself."

You felt a bit of excitement at his response, you usually didn't dirty text much so this just made it more exciting. You decided to push a little further.

"Just imagine what I'll do to you when you get back. I might not even let you out of the bedroom."

Atsumu groaned softly, his mind filling with images of you together. He needed to calm himself down, but the fantasies were almost too much to bear. He replied, his fingers shaking slightly.

"You better be ready, 'cause I'm not gonna hold back."

The exchange left both of you hot and bothered and later that night, Atsumu found himself unable to sleep, his mind racing with thoughts of you. He picked up his phone and called you, he needed to hear your voice. It was late for him, but he didn't care. You answered almost immediately.

"Hey, 'Tsumu. Can't sleep?" you asked, your voice soft.

"Yeah, I need ya," he admitted, his voice already filled with desire. "Been thinkin' about ya all day."

Your breath hitched at his words, the heat from earlier coming back. "I've been thinking about you too. Those pictures…"

"Ya liked that, huh? I didn't even show you that much." he teased, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Wish I could be there with ya, touchin' ya, makin' ya feel good."

"Tell me what you'd do if you were here." you urged, your voice trembling.

"I'd start by kissin' ya, slow and deep. My hands would be all over ya, touchin' every inch of that gorgeous body." he described, his words sending shivers down your spine.

"Keep going." you breathed, your hand slipping under your shirt, imagining it was his touch.

"I'd pull that sexy little thing ya were wearin' off ya, kissin' my way down your neck, your chest… I'd take my time, babe wanna make ya feel everythin'." he continued, his own hand moving down to palm himself through his boxers.

You let out a soft moan, his words driving you wild. "Atsumu… I need you so bad."

"Fuck, ya sound so good. Wish I could hear ya in person." he groaned, his hand slipping inside his boxers. "What are ya doin' right now, baby? Tell me."

You bit your lip, your free hand moving down to your core. "I'm touching myself, 'Tsumu. Thinking about you. About how good you make me feel."

He let out a shaky breath, his hand moving faster. "Fuck, that's hot. Keep goin', babe. Wanna hear ya come for me."

The sound of his voice, filled with need, spurred you on. You could hear his breathing getting heavier, matching your own. "I'm so close, 'Tsumu. Just need you…"

"Come for me, baby. Let me hear ya." he urged, his own release nearing.

With a few more strokes, you cried out his name, your body trembling with pleasure. Hearing you pushed Atsumu over the edge, a guttural moan escaping his lips as he found his release.

"Fuck, that was… amazin'." he panted, his voice filled with satisfaction.

You both lay there, catching your breath.

"I love you, 'Tsumu." you whispered, a smile tugging at your lips.

"I love ya too, more than anythin'." he replied, his voice soft.

Dividers by: @cafekitsune

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freyyzu · 2 years ago

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SEE YOU AGAIN SOON

it's finally the day of your depature, and you decide to leave baxter with one last memory to hold onto until you can see each other again.

a/n; i'm so head over heels in love with this monochrome man i feel like my heart's gonna burst. thank you so much for the amazing game and loving memories, gb patch i'm going to treasure Our Life always

“Is this everything?” You’ve heard that question no less than three times now since leaving Baxter’s apartment. Once, when he closed the door, twice, when you exited the car, and now for a third time as you’re at the station waiting for the train to arrive.

“I should hope so, otherwise one of my belongings is lost within the depths of your apartment now,” you tease good heartedly.

“Hm,” his concerned frown is quickly replaced by a grin. “Maybe I should hope you did leave something behind, then. It would give me an excuse to bring it to you.”

The both of you share a hearty laugh at that. You hadn’t even been parted yet, but here he was already thinking of making his way back to you.

Well, you did agree to have him come over soon after the hectic rush-planning that was Jude and Scott’s wedding, and the five days that you had spent here wasn’t enough to make up for the five years of no contact. There was going to be a lot to catch up on, and a part of you hoped that you’d always have something to catch up on with each other. That there was always going to be something new to learn about one another—together.

“We’ll call,” you reassure him. His shoulders visibly untense at your words, a softer smile adorning his lips. “And text, the days before you arrive will be over before we both know it.”

Baxter reaches out to take your hand, no pauses, no falters. “Then I look forward to that day with bated breath.”

Your eyes crinkle at the edges, and despite him being the one who took hold of your hand first you decide to turn it around on him—literally. Flipping your clasped hands, you bring it up to your lips in a gentle kiss, his bright, brown eyes following the motion as goosebumps chill their way down his arm.

“Why don’t we take a picture together?”

The sudden question catches him off-guard. “A picture?”

“The frame on your desk was empty last time I saw it, right?”

“Ah,” he looks abashed at that. Even though you had gifted him a picture frame, Baxter had never been able to actually use it for its intended purpose. “You noticed that as well, huh?”

You swallow the words at how it’s a bit difficult not to notice something like that. “What do you say?”

There was simply never a moment precious enough in his life to capture in time until you showed up again, and since your arrival every day felt special enough to be caught in the moment. Now with that offer laid bare in front of him, there was no way he was going to let it go. “I’d say that’s a great idea.”

Setting your bags on the nearest chair, Baxter pulls out his phone and you shimmy closer to his side, his arm reaching out to wrap around your waist almost instinctively. It felt a bit embarrassing, using the selfie function of his phone; he couldn’t remember the last time he ever did if ever.

Though far past his embarrassment was the joy of being able to see your face every day whenever he so wished, even if you weren’t there in person.

The shutter goes off, and at the same time he feels a soft press into his cheek.

The motion catches him by surprise, the only word able to leave the tip of his tongue being, “huh?” followed by your chuckles.

His eyes glance down at his phone, the picture displaying all its glory to you and him. He sports a startled look, the tips of his ears forming the faintest red and of course you’re leaning in, your lips pressed against his cheek with a smile.

“It looks good,” you comment cheerfully, either not noticing or feigning ignorance to the way his entire face has lit up in a bright, strawberry red. “Don’t you think?”

“I-” he catches the same tint of red dusting the edge of your cheeks. No doubt that action had been a spur of the moment decision on your part, rather than a well-thoughtout plan, though at this point he can’t say he’s surprised—if the last-minute party plannings were anything to go by.

An affectionate sigh leaves him, and he leans in, following the bubbling warmth in his chest, hand gently cradling your cheek as he pulls you into a kiss. A proper one, where both of your lips touch and your eyes flutter close, blocking the entire world around you.

Your arms wrap around his shoulders, fingers playing with the ends of his hair, and he nearly melts at the tender motion of your hands. Baxter’s spent the last five days wondering how he could be so lucky. To reunite with his ideal, the person he fell for, the one he loved—loves—from all those years ago and how even after a long five years you still haven’t forgotten, haven’t given up on him.

“Baxter?” Every part of you, from the color of your eyes, to your kind, patient personality, to your hands that treat him like he’s glass, to your voice that calls his name with so much warmth.

At one point, the kiss had broken and he bumped his forehead with yours. He couldn’t tell you not to leave, even when every fiber of his being wished for you to just stay by his side, and so he swallows those words. This is enough for now, these five days, the next five years. You’ll make it work.

“I love you.” From this close of proximity, the breath that follow his words flutter your eyelashes. His hand doesn’t move from your cheek, but his thumb begins to rub timidly along your skin, as if afraid you’ll back off if he did any more.

Your eyes gloss over at those three simple words. He was really going to make it hard to leave wasn’t he? Even though you were the one who had been trying to keep it together this entire time. “I love you, too,” you whisper, leaning in for another kiss.

If time stopped there, neither of you would have minded, but it doesn’t, and soon the ring of the train bells force both of you to pull away.

“I should get going,” you mutter with less resolve than before.

“I’ll walk with you to the doors.” Baxter picks up half of your bags again, motioning towards your ride with his head. He looks just as, if not more, insulted than you at the interruption.

“Thank you.”

The walk was short and quiet, there were a million and one things you could have said, but chose not to. They could wait until you met up again. And everyone knows that there was no one more patient than you around here. You’ve waited this long, you could wait a little more.

“I’ll see you in a bit?” Baxter passes your bags over to you. It’s unsure of exactly how long ‘a bit’ actually refers to, but you’ll get your answer eventually.

“Definitely,” you reply. “I’ll see you again soon, Baxter.”

He leans in for the last time, and you’re almost sure he was going to kiss your lips again, but he falters at the last second and moves upwards to press his lips against your forehead instead.

“I feel like if I kiss you now I’d never stop,” he chuckles in jest, though you can hear the full sincerity in those words. “I’ll see you again soon, darling.”

‘Darling’ that was a pet name you’d have to get used to unless you fear for your poor heart exploding.

You give him one last kiss of your own, also on the forehead—he hums contently at the action—before pulling back; the train doors beginning to close.

And when the train finally takes off, and your waves weren’t within sight anymore, Baxter finds himself crumpling to the floor in a heap.

It’s a question he’s asked himself multiple times, more times than you’d call appropriate, but was he allowed to be this happy? A hand goes up to his forehead where your lips had just been, and he allows himself to bask in the feeling.

‘It’s alright.’ He was allowed to be this happy.

A ping from his phone pulls him out of his thoughts, and he grumbles at the interruption. He pulls out the device with a less-than-appropriate mumble though stops completely when he sees who it’s from.

[ could you send me that picture, please?

i’d like to have a memory of us as well. ]

[ Of course. ]

Comes his instantaneous response.

He sends you the photo immediately, and his eyes linger on it for just as long as it takes for you to reply back.

[ thanks! i’ll treasure it ]

Yeah, he is allowed to be this happy.

With you.

And he hopes with his entire heart that you feel the same.

[ As will I. ]

#Our Life #Our Life: Beginning and Always #Baxter Ward #Baxter Ward x Reader #Baxter Ward x MC #i was smiling so much through his whole dlc i gave myself a headache #i genuinely can't put into words how much i adore this game #the characters #and how much i'll miss it #thank you for all the adventures #and i look forward to Now and Forever in the future!

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estellan0vella · 1 month ago

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Sunshine's Guide To Murder│Lee Minho

Chapter Three: Be Anything But Yourselves SS: 7 (ignore time stamps and dates) Word Count: 1.3K Content Warnings: Discussion of murder, Discussion of abduction, discussion of potential stalking, mention of suicide Previous Next Masterlist

It’s a lazy Sunday morning, the kind where the world feels slow and the air is thick with the promise of a quiet day. The hum of the house is peaceful—until a knock on the door breaks the silence. Hayun pads across the living room, her damp hair still clinging to her neck from her morning shower. She’s dressed casually in a white T-shirt, tucked into black yoga shorts, and a pair of fluffy yellow socks that make her feet look like two small ducks waddling across the floor. She yawns, rubbing her eyes as she pulls open the door.

Minho stands there, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, his expression unreadable. “Morning,” he greets, his voice low.

“Come in,” Hayun says with a small smile, stepping aside to let him enter. “We’re just having breakfast.”

As Minho steps into the warmth of the house, he glances around. The living room feels like a war room, with documents scattered across the dining table and a large corkboard dominating one wall. His eyes lock onto it immediately—at the center is Yuna’s picture, framed by post-its that form a spiderweb of half-formed thoughts and theories.

“Hope I’m not interrupting,” Minho says, though his focus is on the board.

Hayun shakes her head, gesturing toward the table where Felix, Jeongin, and Jisung are already seated, half-eaten plates of breakfast in front of them. “Nah, you’re good.”

The three wave lazily at Minho. Felix, who’s halfway through a bite of toast, flashes him a quick smile. “Made you breakfast too. It’s on the counter.”

Minho nods his thanks and takes a seat. Hayun heads into the kitchen, returning with a plate stacked high with eggs, toast, and bacon, setting it in front of him before joining the others. They sit together around the cluttered table, a mix of notes, documents, and food spread out in front of them.

Minho’s gaze keeps drifting back to the corkboard. Yuna’s picture, pinned with a post-it reading Assumed dead, body not recovered, sits next to a photo of Chaeryeong. Under her picture, another note reads: Confession note, 'suicide,' pile of horseshit case.

Jisung, leaning forward with his elbows on the table, gestures toward the corkboard with a fork. “Alright, so anything or anyone you can think of needs to go on the board. We’re just mapping out connections, so don’t hold back.”

Minho’s jaw tightens for a moment as he considers the question. “Your sister, Lia,” he says finally, glancing at Jisung. “She was Yuna’s best friend.”

Jisung nods, though he looks a little uncomfortable. “Yeah, Lia. She doesn’t talk about it much. It’ll be tough to get her to open up.”

Jeongin, sitting cross-legged in front of the corkboard, scribbles down a note and pins it up next to Yuna’s picture: Han Lia – Yuna’s best friend.

Felix looks up from his plate, eyes darting between Jisung and Minho. “Lia’s a good start, but do we have any leads on where she’s been lately? She’s been avoiding us for a while, right?”

Jisung runs a hand through his messy hair, sighing. “She’s not avoiding us, just... not ready to talk, I think. I’ll reach out. It’ll be hard, though. She’s probably still dealing with all of this.”

Minho rubs the back of his neck, his eyes still on the board. “Hwang Yeji. Chae told me Yuna used to buy pills from her.”

Felix nearly chokes on his coffee, eyes wide. “No shit?”

“Yeah,” Minho says grimly. “Yuna was one of her regulars. Chae hated it, but she loved Yuna too much to do anything about it.”

Hayun frowns, absently tapping her pen against her notebook. “Isn’t Yeji dating Yuna’s sister, Ryujin?”

Minho nods. “They’ve been together for a while. I think they started dating just before Yuna disappeared.”

Jeongin quickly jots down the new information, pinning it to the board. He adds two notes under Yuna’s picture: Hwang Yeji – dealer and Shin Ryujin – sister of Yuna.

Felix pours more coffee into cups and slides one over to Minho, who takes it with a nod. He passes the others around the table, and Hayun wraps her hands around her mug, letting the warmth seep into her skin.

“I don’t know if this is important,” Hayun begins, her voice hesitant, “but once, I was having a sleepover at Ji’s place, and Yuna was staying over in Lia’s room. I heard them talking about some... older guy. Mystery guy.”

Jeongin immediately perks up, scribbling Older mystery guy? on a post-it and pinning it next to Yuna’s picture.

Minho’s brow furrows. “Older guy? You’re sure?”

Hayun nods slowly. “It was a long time ago, but... yeah, I think so. They seemed to know him pretty well.”

Minho’s lips press into a thin line as he considers this new piece of information. “We’ll need to look into that. Older guy could be connected to whatever Yuna was mixed up in.”

Felix leans forward, a thoughtful look on his face. “Could be tied to Yeji’s dealing, right? What if this guy was a supplier or something? Someone behind the scenes.”

“Or someone completely unrelated,” Hayun suggests. “Could be a professor, an old friend, anyone. We don’t know enough yet.”

Minho’s voice drops, more intense now. “You should add the Shin family to the board. Chae told me Yuna and Ryujin’s father used to get violent when he drank.”

Jeongin nods quickly, scribbling Shin Family – abusive father? and sticking it beneath Yuna’s photo.

Jisung takes a long sip of his coffee, his expression serious. “Okay, we’ve got the bare bones, but we’re still missing a lot of pieces. Lia’s the obvious place to start. She knew Yuna best.”

Hayun stares at the board, her mind racing. “If anyone knows who the older guy is, it’ll be Lia.”

Jeongin taps his pen against his notebook, eyes flicking between the pictures. “We also need to consider the possibility that Yuna might not even be dead. There’s never been a body. What if she was abducted? It’s not that far-fetched.”

Felix raises an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. “Five years, though? That’s a long time for someone to hold a victim. If she’s alive, it’d mean Yuna was stalked, watched... The abductor would probably think they were in love or something.”

Hayun bites her lip, deep in thought. “Maybe. But if that’s the case, there should have been signs before her disappearance. Weird messages, people following her... we don’t have any of that.”

Minho, who’s been silent for a while, suddenly speaks, his voice low and steady. “Even if Yuna’s alive, someone killed my sister. They forced her to write that confession, then made it look like a suicide. There’s a murderer out there, and they’ve been walking free for five fucking years.”

The room falls silent, the gravity of Minho’s words hanging in the air like a dark cloud. Hayun’s heart sinks a little at the look in his eyes—determined but raw, like he’s been living with this weight for far too long.

Jisung, never one to sit still for long, suddenly leans forward, his eyes gleaming with a familiar manic energy. “Okay, hear me out—what if Yuna faked her death? What if she forced Chaeryeong to write the confession and then killed her?”

Felix looks skeptical but doesn’t dismiss the idea immediately. “That’s... actually not the craziest thing I’ve heard. The whole case is bizarre. We have to be open to any possibility.”

Hayun frowns, sipping her coffee slowly. “But why would Yuna do that? What’s the motive?”

Jisung shrugs, though his eyes are wild with the thrill of a new theory. “Maybe she was in over her head. Maybe she was running from something—someone.”

Minho sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “We can speculate all day, but the fact remains: my sister’s dead. If Yuna is alive, she knows more than anyone. And we need to find out what happened.”

The group falls silent, each of them staring at the growing web of names and notes pinned to the corkboard, the tangled mess of leads that could either crack the case wide open or send them chasing ghosts.

Taglist: @hityoulikebahng @drewsandsebastianswife @fackeraccount

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the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf · 1 year ago

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You're waiting for a train...(4)

Painted Windmills

Robert Fischer x reader

description - Eames and Y/n embark on their intel operation and Eames only has one rule for Y/n; do not be seen.

word count - 2.4k

warnings - hospitals, blood (so minor tho), sadness

a/n - finally we have them meeting!!! Also I know some people may disagree with Eames' reactions in this but remember he is thinking about how this job is important for Cobb and Y/n.

Previous Part Series Master list Master list

If you want to be added to the taglist - here

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Eames led me in with his hand on my back in faux professionalism but with genuine care. We had dressed up all nice and proper for our first day. The thick black dress hugged my curves in a way I was not used to, and revealed my legs way more than I could stand. It felt constricting compared with the jeans (which I’d had for years) and baggy shirts I usually wore on jobs. I fixed my newly acquired fake glasses and my disguise was complete.

We walked up the stone steps to the house that loomed like my private gallows. Why was I so nervous? Eames was right next to me, and this was hardly the first intel operation I’d done with him.

I wobbled about in my precarious heels and my ankles practically gave out when I reached the fourth step. My embarrassment was saved by Eames’ quick grasp of my elbow, righting me lest I draw attention to our entrance.

Our fancy dress shoes clinked in synchronisation and stopped to face each other before we breached the fateful doors. One last debrief.

“What are we here to do?” Eames prepped me.

“Gather as much information about the father-son relationship and see what we can use to our advantage. And you’re going to be studying Browning to mimic his movement, mannerisms, and speech.” I completed with pride.

“Very good baby Cobb.”

“Hey! I vetoed that nickname!”

“The most important thing is don’t be seen.” I raised my eyebrow at his ridiculous request. “You know what I mean, don’t draw attention to yourself. And whatever you do, don’t talk to Fischer.”

I laughed at how serious he looked holding my gaze. I tried to leave to go in, thinking the conversation was done. But I was held in place by his hand on my arm.

“Don’t talk to Robert.” He tilted his head, and I felt the meaning of his words. He’d seen me with the picture. I shucked his hand off my arm and left abruptly.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” I seethed.

He met the quick pace I had formed so he didn’t see the distress I felt at his distrust. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust me, he thought he needed to manage me. Take care of me. Like I was a child.

We both arrived at the top of a dark oak staircase that exuded the feel of wealth and prosperity. The house was so quiet that my heels were like a gunshot in a library. I began to tilt my head up to look at the expanse of the house in wonder. It seemed it had more shadows than glimmers of light. The house choked on its own emptiness.

“Mr and Mrs Trent?” A perky blonde approached us as we walked around the first floor aimlessly.

I panicked at her assumption. “No, no, no, no. We are not a couple—not even--. Miss James.” I shoved out my hand hoping she and I would both forget my stuttering. Great first impression.

She reluctantly met my hand. “Okay, I see well if you both come this way, we can get you started. There is quite a lot to do due to Mr Fischer’s declining health. You will both be responsible for sorting through the different files; making sure, if an account is prepared, it is filed away, and if it’s not, it is highlighted to be looked at.” Eames’ and I’s mouths ached from the smiles we were forcing towards Little Miss Big Boobs.

But we both righted our faces to make it seem like we were focused on the 'challenging' task rather than admitting this kind of work was trivial compared to our own jobs. We placed our bags down, took the exaggerated lapel badges handed to us, and began to quickly complete our task. We had previously discussed that we would complete the task first, not wanting to have hindered the Fischer empire any more than we were already going to, then go about our snooping.

I opened my first file, quickly read it, then assigned it it’s place. I’d always had a mind that worked faster than most. Arthur used to joke that my projections run rather than walk. This meant general schoolwork had seemed mundane to me when I was a child. Kids can be cruel to the kid who always finishes first. No one likes a show off.

After I had read my 10th file in less than 5 minutes, I noticed Eames was gesturing and mouthing something towards me.

‘SLOW DOWN’ Ah I forgot. Don’t draw attention to yourself.

My job here wasn’t exactly defined, by Fischer or Eames.

Eames trailed Browning like a shadow, subtly mimicking every move in a sort of dress rehearsal. I tracked him with my gaze, in awe at his skill. Partially because his skill was slick enough to pass between everyone’s tired eyes.

All at once, a commotion began around my section. Some balshy intern had decided to push Browning for an answer on question he didn’t want to hear. He went on to sarcastically suggest that the intern should bring the question to Maurice himself. He strutted away and drove open the large double doors that blanketed the room. When the oak parted I found myself moving away from my corner to peek into the scene revealed.

Maurice Fischer lay on his hospital bed surrounded by equipment which stood in contrast to the dark interior that sat around them. Browning walked through and instead of approaching Fischer senior; he made his way to the window where a man stood. His back was to me, but his figure was distinguished. My feet edged me forward a little more.

“Argghh” Maurice flailed out his arms. In his frenzy, he had knocked down a picture from his bedside. The man turned at the noise and it was there I saw the face I had longed to see. Robert Fischer.

He moved to pick up the picture with a sort of meekness. And as he looked up to his father there was a sense of shame there. As if he was once again the height of a young boy. He rose, broken picture scarring his hand. I see Browning and Fischer exchange words. I inch forward more so that my frame centres in the doorway. Suddenly…

“Mr Browning, I have some—” CRASH.

The balshy intern from before slams into my shoulder and knocks me onto the floor. Papers fly everywhere and I audibly wince when my knees come in contact with the hardwood floor. Shit.

I compose myself, trying not to consider how obvious I just made myself. As I slide my pages back together, 2 more hands join my own. I stop in my tracks, registering the person before me. I reluctantly look up and fall into a pool of blue.

“Are you okay?” I sharply intake.

He studies my face as I fail to speak. When I see him poised for an answer, my brain snaps back.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*Robert’s pov*

“I put it there.” My finger drags down the cracked memory. “He didn’t even notice.”

My thoughts are overtaken when a loud crash reverberates throughout the room. My head snaps up, annoyed at the offending noise, but when I look up, I am overcome. I see a girl on the floor struggling to clean up her mess. I rush to her aid, glaring at the man who had knocked her down. As I passed him, I gently stated,

“You’re fired.” He goes to argue but retreats back into the office.

I kneel in front of her rushed attempt at clearing up and chuckle at how she had just seemed to make more mess in her haste.

“Are you okay?” She met my eyes and my breath caught as I fully took her in. She was beautiful.

Minute long seconds passed of us just gazing. I could have stayed there a lifetime if she let me.

“Yes, I am fine. I am so sorry about the mess; I’ll clean it up and I’d understand if you want me to leave.” I stopped her rambling by clasping her hand in mine. I then picked strands of her hair to place behind her ears to reveal more of the face she was trying to hide. Her spew of words was like music to me and what interested me even more were her little laughs between thoughts, as if apologetic for what she said.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*your pov*

My sputtering was pathetic, but I was rendered speechless when he held my hand. I quickly retracted the offending limb to push up my glasses as if they could save me now. My thoughts were equally filled with his words but also my warnings. I had to leave and tell Eames the mistake I’d made so we could rectify it.

Together we had collected the papers into a transportable pile, and I stood up. But I braved it too quickly and found myself stumbling in my heels once again. Robert hadn’t let go of me even as I stood up, making sure I was okay. My leg which had gone numb from my position on the floor gave out and pushed me into Robert’s awaiting arms.

I let myself sink further into the perfect feeling of being in his warmth. He felt like a warm beach in the afternoon sun. But I quickly remembered my place. I jumped back in fright.

“You’re bleeding!” Robert exclaimed. As I stumbled back, he had noticed drops of blood adorning my newly scraped knee.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” I tried to placate his worry as I began to make my way to the exit.

“No, come, I’ll clean it up.” He grasped my hand and led me through his father’s room despite my protests.

“Mr Fischer, please, you are far too busy. I can sort it myself.” We had made it through another door that led into a room which was so uniquely childlike.

“Please, I’ve been looking for an excuse to leave.” He smirked at me and led me to sit down on the window seat. He went to a drawer for plasters and then another for disinfectant. He moved about the room with assuredness. He returned and lifted my leg so that it rested over his knees. I tugged down the end of my short-ish dress. He opened the disinfectant and dabbed it with cotton wool. As he went about this, I took in the room around me.

It felt busy but not cluttered. In the middle of the back wall sat a single bed with light blue cotton sheets. The sheets were decorated with multi-coloured windmills. The white bedside tables held many trinkets of a young boy. The chest of drawers was home to more pictures and framed memories. My head lifted higher, and I saw the sky painted blue and it held wooden planes that flew around the room with a freedom I believe the owner wished he had.

“This is your room, isn’t it.” I whispered.

He didn’t look up from my scar. “Yes.” He chuckled. “Not that I stay in it.”

We both laughed. “I could see you still squeezing into that.” I pointed to the neatly made bed.

“I have thought about it.” He remarked.

I braved my next words. “Or maybe you just want to sleep in a simpler time.” Our eyes met again.

I noticed a familiar picture which sat on the chest. And I realised it was the same one that rested on the window seat between us, covered by Robert’s jacket.

“Is that you and your dad?” I mentally smacked myself for such a stupid question.

“Yeah.” He spoke.

“How old are you here?” I picked up the delicate frame. I smiled at the picture of a young Robert blowing on a handmade windmill, sat in his father’s lap. I could feel the love radiating from this image. It now seemed so different to the coldness one felt in this house.

“10. The nurse said he may respond to being surrounded by happy memories. That was the happiest day of my life.” He placed his arms around me to join mine on the frame. “I just didn’t think that it might not be one for him.” As I turned to face him, I realised how close we were. One gentle slip and our lips would touch. Each exhale was felt on the others face. “There’s something. Have we met before?”

What was I doing?!

I retreated back, freeing myself from his arms. I had to leave. Find Eames and get out of here.

“I am so sorry, but I have to go—I just—I--.” I barely even finished a sentence as I ran out, back to the office. I threw my hair in front of my face as if that would help me now. Eames, Eames, EAMES!

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*Robert’s pov*

I ran back to catch her before she left. I was unsuccessful so I asked Browning. She’d left so quickly I’d never even gotten her name. But I knew I needed it.

“That intern, what’s her name?” I asked my godfather.

“I don’t know, why? Where did you just go off to?” He responded.

“I’ve had to be numb to a lot in my life, but just then I felt something.” I would see that girl again if it’s the last thing I do. "Something real."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*your pov*

Eames and I were safely in our rental car, driving back to the warehouse. Eames seemed pleased at his progress and thankfully hadn’t noticed my absence.

“I have Browning down to a T and I think he is going to be the key. If we can somehow get Robert’s own projection of Browning to—” As he prattled on, I struggled to quieten my breathing after my speedy getaway. All I could do was watch the world pass by my window, willing my mind to forget everything that just happened. How Cinderella of me.

“You, okay?” Eames looked over to me concerned.

“Yeah. I think the bad relationship with the father is the way in. Everything about that dynamic is so…broken.” I softly spoke.

“Nice. I like a good gap to sneak through.” I rolled my eyes at his childishness but also couldn’t help but laugh.

“He saw me.” I admitted.

The car came to a grinding halt. I sat cowering hearing Eames’ heavy sighs. “I’m sorry.” I managed to stumble out through my choked throat. Eames’ head hung low in his hands.

“Why?” he huffed out.

“I didn’t really have much control over it!” I argued back. This wasn’t a complete lie, in more ways than one. It had to happen. “Please don’t tell my dad, I can’t have him thinking I blew this whole case. Because I didn’t okay, because it’s fixable! You know that! Please you can help me fix it!” I was now begging Eames by scrambling at his coat to force him to look into my apologetic eyes.

“I thought you were better than that.” He spat.

“So did I.” I slumped back in my seat. A minute of silence passed. We both just stewed in it.

“I won’t tell your dad.” I let out a breath I hadn’t realised I’d been holding on to. “But-“ I gave him my entire focus. “You mustn’t get distracted. Promise?” He held his pinkie out to me. I giggled remembering fondly.

“I promise.” I finished, linking my pinkie with his and then we both kissed our thumbs together whilst making a corresponding sound.

We drove off once more. Eames satisfied in the promise he’d made me make. I was terrified that I would break it.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

a/n - they've finally met!!

taglist: @jonsncws @h-l-vlovesvintage @theethy @fashionki11a @felicity1994 @bearchermer

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jentledaisies · 5 months ago

Text

NOW LOADING. . . YOU'RE ATTACKED BUT THEY THINK THEY'RE TRYING TO ESCAPE

[ gif by @lisanamjoon ]

✎ in which you're attacked by one of their enemies and in the process of defending yourself, they think you're trying to run away

Warning .ᐟ ⤷ Stockholm Syndrom, manipulative behavior, blood/injuries, weapons[knives, guns], murder(semi-graphic), profanity, yandere

✎ᝰ fully got this idea from @ninetailedfoxmanchi post here ! it’s for bts n when i read it i was like “wow, kinda wanna write a version of that for our girls” !!! they have wonderful reactions, pls check them out !

disclaimer: This is not in any way shape or form a representation of Jisoo, Jennie, Rosè, Lisa, or Blackpink as a whole. All reactions, actions, thoughts, words, and general emotions are fiction and created by me. The behavior shown in these reactions is toxic and unhealthy, but fantasized in a romantic way for simply that, fantasy. None of this should be taken seriously or sought after in real life, or performed. please do not romanticize this behavior/mindset in real life as it is unhealthy and toxic, and if you or anyone you know is in such an environment, should be taken out of immediately. Again, this blog is purely fiction, and all acts taken place in this blog should remain so. ↳ None of my characters, yandere or otherwise, will ever nor would ever perform, act, or consider sexual activities of any sort without consent. full stop. Any and all sexual acts are done with the full consent of all parties taking place. i will never, ever, ever write otherwise or even consider writing otherwise. some AUs for the yandere!blackpink reactions will be based on other folklore/mythology. (yandere!goddess , etc) these reactions will not be accurate to the true mythology/folklore but rather variations and adaptions made to assist the reaction/world of the reaction. ✎ᝰ

The apartment is quiet, save for the soft sound of flipping pages, coming from the book you're currently reading. Your lover had to head to work early today due to a significant issue brought up at last night's mission. She didn't tell you when she would be home, but she said she could either be home early or late. You were hoping for early because as much as you hated to admit it, her presence around you and with you is more than something you're used to, it's something you crave.

And the silence with her gone was deafening. You have never hated being alone so much before.

The book in your hands loses your interest as you take to just flipping the pages, eyes trailing over the extremely large penthouse. According to her, this was the very first house she had purchased in which she lived alone. Before then she had mainly lived with the other three inner circle members, whom she considered her true sisters. It's large, much too large for one person, or even two, but she was mature enough to admit she enjoyed showing off her wealth in her house. According to her, when you became her lover, you made this more than just her house, you made it your home.

But since then, the two of you had been looking at other places to move to, not because you disliked this apartment but because you both wished to move somewhere that you could begin to truly build your life together. After all, she had more than enough money.

The list had narrowed down to four properties, based on all of the things you said you liked and wanted, and then she turned the responsibility of picking the final home out to you, so she could know that you truly love the home the two of you would go to.

And as the book starts to reach the last of its pages your eyes are drawn to the folders on the coffee table with the location pictures, interior pictures, dimension sizing, building rating, site history, etc. All the information you needed to make the most informed decision possible without leaving your current home. Of course, sans the pricing and all. She stated up and down that she would simply buy the building (and possibly the land it's on) and leave it all signed to you in a contract, that way should anything ever happen to her she could still take care of you.

The last page flips and the cover joins the rest of the book. You frown at the now closed book for a second -you forgot to put a bookmark in your spot- before setting it on the table to grab the folders instead. Since you have the time to kill, you may as well start looking over these.

You're unsure how much time passes with you flipping through each folder and creating a pro/con list in your notebook but you do know that you've gone over all of them twice when the door to the apartment starts to turn, the distinct sound of the lock clicking open causing you to stand and turn eagerly.

"Hey! I'm glad you're back because I think I know which one I like..." Your voice trails away as an unfamiliar woman steps through the door, shutting it softly but not locking it.

"Sorry," The corner of her lips curve up. "I don't think it was me you were expecting."

You're immediately taken with a sense of uneasiness and dread, your girlfriend had never introduced you to any other member of her gang. Only the other inner circle members. In fact, she always swore that she'd never bring any other member into your home.

"W-Who are you?" Your voice is shaky as you figure out the answer to your question before she answers. Though the slight drop in her mouth lets you know that she notices.

"I'm a friend of-"

"That's a lie." You cut her off before she can say your lover's name, unsure of what you were doing in exposing her lie. You were one person who had never really been trained past basic self-defense against a possible enemy gang member. "I asked who you are."

She just smiles wickedly as she slips a small blade into her hand. "Jung Ji-Ho wishes to simply say hello. It's not you who he wants, but I suppose you will do."

With that, she lunges toward you, faster than you expected, and creates a large cut on your arm as you attempt to run away. Your notebook flies under the sofa and the pictures go everywhere as you make a mad dash to the front door, the woman fast behind you. She reaches out and yanks you back by your hair, a scream leaving you as you pull away, leaving strands of your hair in her hand. She goes to cut you again and you don't think as you grab the knife with one hand and hit her face with the other.

"Hit between the eyes," M/N had told you. "It'll stun them enough for you to get away. Don't worry, I'll be there to save you then."

She flinches away, dragging the blade painfully across your palm, which leaves a bloody imprint as you throw open the door and rush out, heading to the private elevator. And just to your luck it opens, and you run in, not to an empty elevator, but into the arms of your love.

She was here to save you now, but you look up into her eyes, and you're only met with burning anger and bitter betrayal.

[KIM JISOO]

[ gif by @venompinks ]

"And where do you think you're going, Darling?" Jisoo always looks cold but somehow she manages to look even more so as she stares at you, locking her hands onto your arms to hold you in place.

"Jisoo! You're here!" You shout in surprise, ready to tell your lover about the situation, but she misunderstands your rush to be fear of being caught.

She pushes you back with force, albeit gently, her hands locked tightly on your forearms. Her eyes bore into your own and you're frozen in place, forgetting everything as fear creeps up your spine. The elevator lets out a soft ding and the doors start to close behind her, snapping you from your stupor.

"We need to go!" You shout and lunge towards the buttons, stopping as she yanks you back, eyes steely and blank.

"Excuse me? We are not going anywhere but back into our home." She punctuates her words by tugging you closer.

"No, you don't understand-"

"I think I understand pretty well." Jisoo's voice is cold, devoid of any emotion although you can tell she's hurt. "What, you didn't think I'd come home on time? Were you wishing I stayed late? You thought you could just, slip away, and I wouldn't notice that my heart was gone?!"

You jump as she shouts the last words, hands reaching for her on instinct to calm her, and blood smears on her white t-shirt, the red handprint almost seeming like paint.

"I'm so sorry!" You blurt, your hands reaching forward in an instinctive attempt to wipe it off, but to no surprise, you end up smearing it more and reminding yourself of the situation. "Shit. Ok no, Jisoo please, we need to go now. Please."

Jisoo raises an eyebrow at your pleading, finally taking a moment to survey her surroundings once your blood smears on her shirt. The small, lines on the wall from where you stumbled through, the way the apartment door isn't even fully closed. The panic in your eyes and the injuries on your body.

Finally understanding she pushes you behind her gently, reaching for her brass knuckles as the door opens and the attacker steps out. Her glare sets deeper into her face, pushing the guilt of how she spoke to you away to focus on this scum that thought they could hurt her girl.

"Your name. Now." Jisoo simply demands, not in the mood to hear any excuses from the woman's mouth.

Clearly, the lady wasn't expecting the calm and almost bored demeanor that Jisoo had, given that she was standing so defensively and with her knives held tight. Your blood shines on the blades and catches your lover's eyes.

Jisoo glares so intensely at the woman that her knees start to shake, but it's not enough. She steps forward, scoffing as the attacker takes two steps back, and does it again. The dance continues until the attacker is up against a wall, holding out her knives as a pitiful defense. She can barely even blink before Jisoo punches her, breaking her nose immediately with her brass-enforced knuckles.

"What? You're not happy to see me?" Jisoo teases with a cruel pout, laughing slightly. "I thought that's what you wanted."

She doesn't wait for any response before she hits again, this time the woman's stomach. The screaming huff that leaves her makes you wince, but you don't move from the spot you're in, and try as you might you can't seem to tear your eyes away either.

"You know what? I don't need your name," Jisoo slams her fist into her face again, knocking her down. "I'll get it out of you later. Little bitch. Thought you could break in and hurt my girl? MY GIRL! Consider yourself very lucky I don't kill you here. Or don't, a faster death may be more merciful than what I have planned for you."

Jisoo slams her fist down again, but the woman is unresponsive, only her shallow breathing alerting the two of you to her undead state. Blood is splattered on your lover's hands and all over the unconscious woman's face. She huffs as she sits back, staring in amusement at the blood-covered woman, before remembering you.

"Darling," Her voice is a quiet sort of remorseful as she turns to face you, eyes saddening as you flinch. "I'm sorry. I should have listened to you."

"I-It's okay." You stutter, not even believing in yourself.

"No, it is not 'okay.' You are injured and bleeding and without even taking notice of your pain I inflicted more. Forgive me, please." This time Jisoo's voice wavers, shame filtering in.

You step forward, hesitant, and then move more surely until you can wrap your arms around her waist and bury your head in her neck. The tears come quickly after.

"I was so scared." You sob shocking Jisoo who has her hands in fists at her side. Scared that it's her you're speaking of. "When she came in I thought it was you but then she-"

You shake as you cry, Jisoo now wrapping her own arms around you, realizing the terror that must've stricken you at the intruder. She doesn't let you continue, holding you close by your waist and your head, placing kisses on the side.

"I'm here. I'm here and your safe, my darling." She soothes your hair, shuffling to move you both into the penthouse. Her neck strains as she hides the anger in her voice at the damage, knowing you were the one attacked during it. "I'll always protect you. I swear."

She pulls away once the two of your reach the staircase, helping you up while texting some members to pick up the woman in the hallway. She'd take care of the mess after she took care of your injuries.

You didn't want to sit on the expensive couch, your arm and hand still bleeding heavily so the two of you enter the en suite where she has you sit on the counter. Pulling out the emergency aid kit that Lisa left at all the members' houses she chuckles wryly.

"I never thought it'd be you being patched up with this. Or ever." Jisoo jokes wryly, regret lacing her voice as she finishes washing the wounds, wincing when you did.

The cuts aren't as deep as she thought, all the blood just making them seem to like it. Jisoo's eyebrows scrunch as she focuses on disinfecting the wounds, keeping your mind off of the pain as her lips part a little. Even when she's pouring rubbing alcohol over open wounds of yours, she remains beautiful.

Jisoo recalls how Lisa told her that cuts that are big enough to bleed but not too deep like yours don't need stitches. Just a wrap. The white gauze makes Jisoo feel sick.

The fact that you're bleeding under there makes Jisoo even sicker.

"No offense but, shouldn't we ask Lisa to do this?" The question makes Jisoo laugh.

"I've done this plenty of times too! Just because I never went to med school." She grumbles as she helps you down and onto the bed. "Wait here for a moment."

She pecks your cheek as she leaves the room to fetch some tea, slipping a bit of a sedative into it, just to make sure you rest well. Walking back into the room she finds you already fluffing the pillows and in your pajamas.

"That's not waiting." She 'tsks' as she hands you the cup, raising an eyebrow as you down it like a shot. "Try and get some rest, Darling."

"Aren't you staying?" With the way your face freezes in fear, Jisoo can't bring herself to tell you that she was in fact leaving, just for a little bit.

"I'm just going to clean up the apartment before I join you. Too much adrenaline." So instead she smiles sweetly while lying. She'd leave after you slept and be back before you awoke anyway.

"Ok. I love you." Your eyes start to shut and your voice slurs as she pecks your forehead.

"I love you too, Bunny."

----

Your eyes feel weighed down when you rouse from your slumber, the room pitch black except for the light streaming in as the door opens. Jisoo walks in and in your hazy vision, you can make out the way she shrugs off her jacket, throwing it into the trash. Her dark red shirt followed soon after.

As your eyes give in to the weight a nagging voice in the back of your head reminds you that she was wearing a white shirt when she left.

[KIM JENNIE]

[ gif by @lisanamjoon ]

"Well, hello my love." Jennie just stares at you in surprise, but her sweet smile still spreads across her face, even though her eyes don't reflect it. "Quite funny meeting you out here...when you are meant to be in there."

Jennie's grip is gentle on you, but firm as she holds your waist and one of your hands as though leading you in a dance.

"Although, why you didn't just say you wanted to go out," her voice is chilly despite the twinge of love hidden within. "I would've taken you anywhere you asked."

"Jennie!" You know the shock on your face probably makes the situation look worse given how her face falters.

"Y/N," She starts a deep sigh escaping her. "What are you doing? And, please, just tell me the truth."

You can tell exactly what Jennie thinks you were doing and your heart breaks at how hurt you know she must feel. How her smile is so so sweet, but her eyes are cold to hide how she really feels.

"It's not what you think." You wince when you say that, you don't even know why you said that. "No! I mean, it's not...that."

"It's not what?" Jennie's smile tightens. "Tell me what it is."

"It's...There's someone in the apartment!" You can't understand why it took so long to get the words out, but Jennie's reaction is immediate. Her smile falls and her eyes dart to the door that's closed only partly.

"I don't know who she is b-but she said she knew you. I figured that was a lie but she attacked me when I went to leave! Please, I would never do that to you. I promised." Your words start to jumble as you speak as fast as you can but she understands, she always understands you.

"Where are you hurt, my love." Jennie's voice becomes soft, her shoulders loosen and her eyes sweeten. Her eyes are drawn to your bloody arm and the cut on your hand. Quickly, she sheds her blouse, leaving her in just a tank top, so she can quickly wrap it around your arm.

"Do me a favor and go in the elevator. Close the doors and wait for a bit." She tells you quickly as the door starts to open. She pulls out her gun and checks the mag before placing a kiss on your head. "Go."

"Please don't get hurt." The lady steps out of the apartment, her hair a mess and eyes glaring. Your blood stains her hand and the knife that she grips tighter when she sees your lover.

You turn quickly, dashing into the metal box, and hit the button that closes the doors before crouching in the furthest corner and hiding your ears in your hands.

You can hear Jennie scream something, but her voice is muffled by both the doors and your hands, but the slam against said doors causes the box to rattle, and a small shriek to escape you. Another shout comes but it's not from Jennie, you assume it's the other woman. A gunshot finally rings, and this time you know it's from Jennie's gun, and another bang follows. Two more ring out in quick succession, and the other woman's wails ring in your ears.

You flinch back, trying to almost dig yourself into the mirror backing of the elevator as more screams ring out. you can almost make out the pleas in them from your hands over your ears, and you feel a chill creep up your back as a faint sound of a laugh comes through.

All too soon there is another very loud slam against the elevator doors, and more gunshots ring out until a trickle of red liquid drips through the cracks. Bile rises in your throat and you scoot as far as you can into the mirrored wall, slipping as the blood pool inches closer and closer.

Ding!

The doors open and you see Jennie kick something away, and with the large thump that follows you realize it was probably the body.

"My love," She sighs as she sees your curled-up body scorching away from the blood, her eyes soften into gentle flames and her lips pout. "I am so sorry. Oh, you're hurt and I didn't even notice-"

"Please just hug me." You cut her off as you stand up, eyes still trained on the devilish red liquid on the floor. She doesn't hesitate, stepping directly into the puddle to engulf your in her arms, causing you to look away.

With much ease, she picks up your legs to have them wrap around her waist and carries you simply down the hallway until she can enter the apartment, being met with the flipped-over table and papers everywhere...and your blood covering the handle of the door. Her heart sinks as she sees the damage and feels your soft breath on the crook of her neck from where your head is hidden. She steps over the scattered pictures to enter the guest bathroom, softly placing you on the counter with a kiss on your head.

She silently pulls out her aid kit, avoiding your eyes in shame as she pulls out a cloth to wipe the excess blood away. You don't flinch as the wet cloth turns red but the rubbing alcohol is different. You're clumsy but you very rarely have such large cuts, so the stinging sensation, while not new, is still quite painful for you. At the whimper that leaves your lips, Jennie pulls away as though being burned, hands resting at her sides as her fists clench.

"I'm sorry." Her lips thin as she forces herself to continue disinfecting. "I'm so sorry."

The trace of tears on her waterline shocks you but at the same time, you almost expect them. They hurt you more than the alcohol finding its way into your open wound though so your reach your unharmed hand up to brush them away.

"Stop saying you're sorry." You make her look at you, meeting her eyes gently. "You saved me. Just like you promised me."

"Always. I'll always save you. But you're hurt and I tried to make assumptions before I helped ease the pain."

"But you understood anyway. So stop saying you're sorry." She looks back down as you smile reassuringly and you figure it's time to move on from the topic. "I think I picked a house."

"What?" Jennie looks up, puzzled at the topic.

"From the four you brought me. I think I know which one I like the most." You smile at her before frowning. "Oh, but I had written it all down in my notebook, but I don't know where it went after I threw everything."

"That's fine! I can go find it!" Jennie turns to go look but you hook your arm around her waist.

"Can you finish wrapping my arm? I don't think I'll be able to tie it on my own, then we can look at them again together."

Jennie turns around with a sheepish smile, quickly finishing the wrap on your arm, and pressing a kiss to your hand after. She rushes out of the bathroom after ordering you to stay in there for a bit longer and when you do come out the living room looks like nothing happened. Jennie pulls you to the couch and has you sit on her lap while she opens your notebook and the pro/con lists.

Every now and then your eyes drift up to look at the shoes that still have blood covered on them, waiting for the gang's cleanup crew to come to grab them. Jennie steals your attention away with kisses when you do.

[PARK CHAEYOUNG / ROSÉ]

[ gif by @jaennie ]

Chaeyoung's face is much calmer than her eyes. In fact, if you didn't know her so well you wouldn't think anything was wrong.

"Well aren't you in a rush? Careful, Sweets, you might hurt yourself." She leans down as she says that, almost mockingly. It's not hard to guess how the dots connected for her, it'd be hard to see the scene as anything else. Especially so soon after you had told her that no matter what, you would never leave her.

"Rosie, help me. Please." You're shaking though, from the complete terror of the person who entered your home, so you can't seem to focus on anything but asking for help. For begging your hero to save you the way she always does.

Rosie raises an eyebrow, taking in everything in the hallway, calmly and violently. Her sweet love, so soft and kind was shaking in her arms, bleeding and crying. Oh, she would burn whoever did this to the ground.

"Where?" Rosie calmly pulls her gun out and changes the clip, having emptied it earlier at 'work'. "Where is the dead man walking?"

"S-She's inside still. I pushed her a bit hard." You flinch away from your girlfriend as you say that scared at how quickly she arms herself with two guns and brass knuckles.

Rosie places her gun behind her back again, instead reaching forward to place her hands on your face and meet her eyes with yours. "Sweetheart, breath. I am here and no one will touch you like that again. I can promise you that."

You meet her eyes with shaky panic, shivering as though it was snowing though the hallway was heated. "Do you promise?"

"I swear on my life, I will personally see to the destruction of anybody who dares harm you," Rosie answers you with unwavering confidence and the trembling in your body stops. Your shoulders are still tensed like a brick wall and with the way you flinch into her when the door to your apartment opens again, Rosie almost falls over.

She pulls you behind her and pulls her gun out, making the woman across the hall freeze. Rosé aims her gun at her, turning her body to face you when she sees that the attacker isn't going to make a move. She places a soft kiss on your forehead, brushing away a tear as she pulls away.

"I'll just be a moment, Sweets."

She turns around and before she can even blink shoots a shot into the attacker's right knee. You don't see, but a cruel smile crosses her face as she hears the scream tear itself from the woman's throat. For her, it's her favorite noise from her enemies, and that woman was currently enemy number 1.

She tucks her gun away as she steps closer to the woman collapsed on the ground, she wanted to make her suffer and a gun was much too...clean.

She stands over the woman who's struggling to save face, attempting a glare at Rosé but struggling to hold the scream behind her lips. Without any feeling, Rosé brings her heeled boot back and hits a strong kick to the woman's ribs. This time you can see the faint shake in your girlfriend's shoulders as she chuckles.

Rosé bends down from the waist to look the lady in her eyes, not wanting to kneel and get her clothes dirty.

"What? Can't look me in my eyes now?" Rosé pulls out her gun again, pressing it to the woman's left foot, putting pressure when she tries to pull her leg away. "Afraid of blood? But you weren't when you decided to harm my girl."

Another shot rings and despite her wishes blood splatters on Rosé's pants. With her arm pulled back she slams her gun into the attacker's head, creating a large gash and causing her to go sprawling.

"You got my pants dirty." She stands straight and then proceeds to kick the attacker again, this time on her knee. "Oh, did that hurt? Sorry."

With a roll of her eyes, she steps on the profusely bleeding left foot, putting most of her pressure on the wound for maximum pain. No longer having the will to scream the attacker just writhes on the floor in pain, like a dying fish.

"Sweetheart," Rosé's call catches your attention, dragging your terrified eyes from the bleeding woman. "What would you like me to do?"

"What?" Your voice is hoarse, and your eyes wide, not understanding.

"With her. What would you like me to do, since she attacked you? I'll do whatever you say." Your lover's eyes soften as she looks at you, as if gently telling you it's ok. Distracting you from how she stepped on the woman like a dart holding its target.

"Do what you do." You say before quickly adding on. "But not here! Please, do whatever it is you do with...that. But don't make me see it."

Rosé hesitates for a moment before nodding, turning quickly to bash her gun handle into the attacker's head again. This time knocking her out and stopping that god-awful writhing. She steps off of the woman, kicking the unconscious woman once before turning back to you. Gentle smile back on her face like she wasn't laughing at screams earlier.

"Come, Honey." She holds her hand out for you, lacing your fingers and basically holding you up when you collapsed into her arms to walk with her back into the apartment.

She sweeps your legs up to carry you up the stairs, laying you gently in the bed as she leaves the room, returning minutes later with tea and an aid kit.

"I'm sorry. For the pain, this is about to cause and for the pain, you endured without me here." Her voice is laced with shame, soft and hesitant, but her hands work deftly in wrapping your wounds. Although she winces much harder than you don when the alcohol stings the cuts.

"Just, please don't let me be hurt again. Please."

"Never." She responds quickly, hardly even letting you finish the request. She helps guide the tea to your mouth. "I put some pain meds mixed into the tea as it'll help you relax more. They have sedation effects so you'll fall asleep quickly. I'll be here when you wake up but I will be gone while you're asleep to deal with the trash."

You nod, finishing off the chamomile tea, and placing the cup down to reach for a hug. She holds you securely, feeling the effects the sedation has on your limbs as you start to drift off. "Just, promise me, you won't tell me what you do to her. I know no matter what, you'll always protect me. I don't want to know how. I don't need to."

Your eyes close but you can feel her nod against your shoulder, and place a kiss before tucking you in. The door closes behind her.

[LALISA MANOBAL / LISA]

[ gif by @lisanamjoon ]

"You said you loved me."

Lisa can only look at you, eyes filled with betrayal and hurt, so much so that she doesn't even notice your trembling and wounds.

Her voice is strained like it pains her to make the accusation. And for a moment you forget about the current situation. Because her eyes are burning, filled with pain and betrayal stings her eyes in the form of tears and all you know is this extremely strong woman is crying and it's because of you.

"I do," You pledge to her again but your voice is pleading as you speak frantically. "I do love you. I do. But-"

"No!" Lisa cries out as you go to continue, misunderstanding what you were about to say. She pushes you then, out of the elevator and into the wall behind you, gripping your arm hard. "You told me- swore to me- that you love me. That you'll stay with me. You can't just leave! Please."

Your heart hurts as her voice cracks and how the obsessed look in her eyes takes over. But her hands pushing against the cuts on your body hurt even more. You could fix the relationship in a second but all you could say right now was:

"You're hurting me."

Lisa looks down then, finally noticing your blood, which was coating her hands. She lets you go immediately and meets your eyes, shock, and confusion covering the betrayal in them for a moment.

"Why are you bleeding?" She asks calmly, but with a new sense of panic coming over her as she spots the cut on your arm and the even deeper gash on your palm. Luck is clearly on your side today because as soon as she asks that, the woman who attacked you steps out of the apartment.

Her eyes open wide at seeing your lover with you and she freezes, giving Lisa enough time to comprehend the scene in front of her. You don't blame her for needing a second longer than normal to react, just before she was thinking you tried to leave her. Her heart just broke in two and is now in the process of unbreaking from nothing.

But naturally, your sweet lover acts with ease, entering her mafia persona and standing in front of you. She's a tall person, but as she stands with her fists clenched and shoulders back and, you assume, a glare on her face, she looks ten times taller. You can see the muscle in her jaw jump from behind her defensive position.

"Who are you?" She asks the same thing you did, voice strained but calm. A chill, however, crawls down your spine at the detached cold tone you've never heard before. Not even on that day she rescued you, she had only sounded annoyed at your former captor, the man who sends his hello through the woman standing at the end of the hall.

"Miss Manobal, I'm here to-"

"I asked who you are." Lisa interrupts her, similar to what you had done, although you assume that the woman is telling a truth instead of a lie this time. "Actually, don't bother. I remember you from that day. What does Jung want this time? We're not interested in any deals and he's too incompetent to launch any successful attacks against us."

She looks mildly offended across the hall and Lisa lets out another cold laugh.

"Oh, is that what this is? An attempt at an attack? Of course, it is. A stupid plan really, you're not talented enough to get away with a single assassination." At the girl opening her mouth to argue Lisa lifts a finger and clicks her tongue. "No. I'm right. You wanna know how I know?"

As Lisa toys with the woman across the hall, a sense of dread fills you like never before. The woman is frozen, in fear or curiosity you don't know, you're not too sure for yourself either. All you know is Lisa has her gun in her hidden hand and a devious smile on her face. You can tell she's angry from the tone of her voice, yet it still sounds cool and calm. Lisa has her prey in the palm of her hand, and if the prey is you or the lady, you can't tell.

"I can tell because," Lisa is close to her now, but instead of attacking she finishes her story. "That meeting, the one you were at, was set up for an alliance, to give the Jungs access to our assassination teams. He knows he can't give a good attack, so he came running to us for help. Of course, nobody in that idiotic gang can come up with a good plan, although I'll give you props for this seemingly ok one. Now, Y/N, turn around and cover your ears."

Lisa points her gun directly at the woman's forehead before twisting her head to look at you. At the blatant fear paralyzing your body, she softens her tone, eyes sinking back into the pools of love that they used to be, betrayal fading away. "Baby, please. Trust me."

You stay looking for a moment longer at her, and how the woman's eyes flit back and forth between the two of you before widening at the realization of who you are. You turn then, missing the desperate turn she makes in an attempt to salvage any possibility of staying alive that she had.

Had Lisa captured her for just attacking a plaything, she would stay alive to be interrogated, and she would find a chance to escape. But she had seen that look before, the one Lisa had given you, on other very powerful mafia leaders. You were the reason she would die today because Lisa would never let anyone hurt you.

You turn around, eyes shut closed tightly and hands clamping down over your ears. The bang of the gun is still loud like you don't even have your hands over your ears, and you flinch, shoulders curling in. The second bang takes you further by surprise and a gasp leaves your lips, but then the shots continue. You lose count after ten. But somewhere around there your gasps turn into small screams. A much louder scream leaves you when arms are wrapped around you, or it may be because you know exactly whose arms they are, and it can't be the lady who broke into your home.

You flinch forward, attempting to get away from the arms but Lisa walks in front of you so that she can instead hold you against her, your most touching her collarbone so she feels your shaking breaths.

"Please don't." You plead with her without recognizing, the words spilling like blood from the wounds on the woman behind you. "Please don't hurt me. I'll be so good, I promise."

"Shh hey," Lisa shushes you quickly, pulling back slightly to look you over, her eyes only showing love and concern now that she understood. "You are good, you've always been good. I'm so sorry I scared you, baby. I never wanted that to happen. Let's just go inside, your cuts must be hurting."

You nod and go to turn around but she pulls you back. Murming a soft 'Close your eyes' she picks you up bridal style. After some steps and shifting, the front door to the apartment closes behind the both of you. You risk opening your eyes and are met with the bloody footprints your lover leaves.

You close your eyes again.

#yandere!blackpink #blackpink yandere #yan!mafia!blackpink #yandere jisoo #yandere jennie #yandere lisa #yandere rosé #blackpink jisoo #blackpink jennie #blackpink rosé #blackpink lisa

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nomorefstogive · 6 months ago

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just some random idea I have on my mind. So both Shalom and Hecate are experiments of Paradeisos, they also have this Mania monster that are the emotions of that Sinner. So hear me out Chief and their like Mania creature thing? I remember scrolling through tumblr someone mentioned that Shalom said we are already a monster before they taken in us, like the person said what if in a literal way. Chief with their Mania form, their Mania form is strong because of the shackles connecting or supressing mania from Sinner, i headcanon they have a deep hatred on the Paradeisos. So yeah...(sorry 4 my bad English because it's not my first language)

🦀

Don't worry about the poor english you did very good, it's my first language and I have trouble with it at times too, so you are not alone my friend lol.

I would also like to preface this by apologizing if this reply is something of a mess, I am a little tired at the moment and trying to be concise and orderly with my thoughts and words is difficult for me on a good day lol.

As for the idea of the Chief being a Mania Monster similar to Nightmare or Rebel, it is an idea I have considered, my own theory is that the Chief has some type of bond or tie to the Perishing Star, given they were present during the Keylan Expedition and how easy it seems to be for the Illusory Moon and Mania to reach out to them during the Immortals events.

I feel that the chief is some kind of progeny or offspring of Mania, a sliver of humanity and hope given shape and form by Mania when it struck the earth and began to coalesce and seize power as it took dominion of the world from mankind, for either a long con or for other reasons thus far unknown.

Or perhaps it could be more apt to say that they were severed from Mania, with Mania as we know it reflecting the darkness and madness of the human psyche while the chief was to embody the opposite, being a beacon of control and order amidst the madness, something that humanity, so desperate for hope, would latch onto and nurture for the sake of its own survival.

The alternative to this is that the chief is something else entirely, some kind of entity that may have once been a part of Mania itself, or perhaps something else entirely, a wildcard left to roam free so as to grow and swell in might to be of better use come the time they are needed.

Apologies for the brief rant, I got off topic lol.

I agree with the chief having a deep resentment for Paradeisos, something that they themselves are likely unaware of the sheer depth of due to the interrupted rejuvenation leading to their memories being wiped before the story began...something which is oddly coincidental if you think about it.

I digress.

On the Subject of the Chief's power coming from them linking with the sinners and suppressing/controlling their mania, I agree that seems to be the case for their own growing strength.

That said, it makes me think that if their power is indeed growing with every Sinner they shackle, then the 'Rules' of Paradeisos are the only thing keeping the rising typhoon of manic power at bay, though one can only wonder how long such barriers will last.

If the Chief is indeed some form of Mania entity, something which is strongly hinted at in canon as well given some of the liens the Corpseborne and Parma say about the Chief, then it stands to reason that they could be either a defective corpseborn, as some seem to believe, or perhaps they are the final product of the process.

A being that is indistinguishable from a human and yet endowed with great and terrible power that grows more and more as mania spreads, as if their power is indeed growing with each sinner that is shackled and every corpus they consume, then one has to try and picture just what kind of monster the Chief will be when they are returned to full power and the 'Rules' fail.

I feel that when such a thing occurs, and it will occur, the Chief's old persona will resurface in full and Dis will be granted audience with a Vassal of Mania whose power exceeds any and all things they have witnessed before as Mania calls its Shepherd to its side once more to settle old scores with Paradeisos and the Underground alike.

Again, I apologize for going off course and starting to ramble, it tends to happen more often than not lol.

I feel that is all I have for this at the moment so I will leave this here, stay safe and take care.

#nomorefstogive answer #ptn #path to nowhere #path to nowhere theories #path to nowhere headcanons #ptn theories #ptn headcanons

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lu-is-not-ok · 1 year ago

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do you think that what EGO someone manifests is based on what caused them to reach the crossroads of Distortion and Manifestation? because distortions are pretty clearly based at least a little around that given... Phillip, but I'm not familiar enough with Xiao's story to make a conclusion about that.

Soooo I know you've only asked about like, the form a manifested E.G.O takes and what might affect it, but uh, I really want to just ramble about everything we know thus far about Distortions and Manifested/Effloresced E.G.O, so I hope you don't mind me hijacking your over a month old ask for that.

Alright? Alright. Under cut because I want to pop off. Oh, also, I'm going to spoil the fuck out of Lobotomy Corporation, Wonderlab, Library of Ruina, and Leviathan. Be warned.

Let's start from the basics. What causes one to Distort and/or Manifest E.G.O?

If you've gone through LobCorp and/or Ruina, your answer is most likely going to be the Light, the final product of Carmen and Ayin's research that was released during the White Nights and Dark Days, and which currently houses the essence of both of them. However, I don't think that's the full picture.

First of all, and probably most importantly, there have been cases of both E.G.O Manifestations and Distortions before the White Nights and Dark Days, that being Kali's E.G.O, and the Bloodfiend lineages.

Now, I have not read Distortion Detective yet, so all of my sources on this are second-hand, but from my understanding Bloodfiends are a kind of Distortion that has existed far before LobCorp took place. The process in which one joins this lineage is by "recieving blood from a certain mansion", apparently implied to belonging to an Abnormality called Nosferatu.

But wait, those who have played LobCorp might be asking, aren't Abnormalities created by L Corp? How can Abnormalities exist before the events of LobCorp?

Here, allow me to talk about Cogito.

For those who don't know, Cogito was the Singularity of L Corp. A substance that, upon being injected into a person, would materialize concepts and ideas from that person's mind into the form of Abnormalities. This process is described as using Cogito as a sort of "bucket" to draw these concepts and ideas like water from the Well of Humanity, aka the (implied to be collective) human subconscious.

While I don't recall if we're ever told what the initial source of Cogito was for Ayin and Carmen's experiments, we do know that after Carmen's "death", her disembodied nervous system became a constant source of it for L Corp.

So, this tells us something important: Abnormalities are concepts and ideas that float around in this Well of Humanity given physical form, which makes sense considering how many of them are based on things such as fairytales, folktales, legends, fears, events in the City's recent history, and other general ideas that the people living in the City may have.

However, it is important to note that not all Abnormalities come from Cogito specifically. In fact, we see an example of one such Abnormality in Chapter 19 of Leviathan. We see an Abnormality we see in LobCorp, Schadenfreude, burst out of Distorted Jumsoon when the beliefs and desires he held and which were the fuel for his Distortion were completely broken down.

Notably, there is a thematic similarity between Jumsoon's Distortion and Schadenfreude, that is being the theme of observing every moment in the world.

What we see is an Abnormality being born out of a Distortion's ego death, where the moment a Distortion loses its desires and beliefs, its identity, the wish that pushed them into Distorting in the first place is the only thing left, that physical manifestation of a concept taking place of that missing self.

Did that make any sense?

Basically what I'm saying is: an Abnormality is a concept that became the self in its entirety.

As such, anything that would be able to give a concept or idea by itself physical form or sense of self, like Cogito or the ego death of Distortion, could potentially form an Abnormality. Which, laid out like that, means it's absolutely not impossible for some proto-Abnormality to form on its own, whether due to a concept acquiring a sense of self naturally, or due to the interference of some other factor we currently might not know about.

So, now that we know what Abnormalities are about, let's go back to what we were talking about: where the pre White Nights and Dark Days Distortions and Manifested E.G.Os could have come from.

We already established that Bloodfiends join the lineage due to ingesting a substance (blood) that came directly from an Abnormality.

Now, let's talk about Kali. Luckily, we get a much clearer picture on what led her to manifest an E.G.O thanks to the story on the Red Mist Key Page. Kali was the first person to wield a prototype of an E.G.O weapon, a weapon and a byproduct that was able to be extracted from the Abnormality called Nothing There. As Kali used this weapon, the ego of the Abnormality would seem to speak to her, its words becoming clearer the longer Kali used it. It would ask if Kali wanted a shell, a form of armor to protect her flesh. Though initially ignoring it, Kali started to interpret its words with her own bias, becoming torn between how much blood she spilled, and how much of it was for protecting others. This eventually leads to her momentarily breaking down, only to steel her resolve and vow to protect Carmen at all cost, this desire of which leads to her manifesting her own E.G.O in the form of an armor, a "shell" to protect her while she protects others.

So, to summarize, Kali had direct contact with an unstable version of E.G.O gear extracted from an Abnormality. Upon being broken down by this gear, seemingly on the verge of Corrosion, Kali instead steels herself in her resolve, and her desire to protect others mixed with the influence of the E.G.O weapon allow her to manifest a shell to protect herself.

Effectively, both pre White Night and Dark Days are caused because of some sort of contact with something extracted from an Abnormality. For Bloodfiends, it was physically consuming Nosferatu's blood. For Kali, it was being in prolonged contact with an unstable Nothing There E.G.O, almost becoming Corroded, but staving it off by focusing on her own desires.

Now, some of you may be asking, why is that important? That's that and this is this, the current Distortion Phenomenon is different because the Light, right?

And here, dear reader, is where you would be wrong.

Let's recap what the Light is, shall we?

From what we know, the Light is the product of the Seed of Light. Carmen's thought process was this: to save humanity, people need to be cured of a "disease of the mind" and have light returned to their souls. The Seed of Light is meant to be the medicine to this disease, something that would draw out from the human subconscious, a formless concept taking shape and becoming a literal seed that could be planted and bloom within people's minds (...is that where the term Effloresced comes from, I wonder).

We know two things that the Seed of Light requires to be fully created: the emotional catharsis of all the Sephirah and A himself overcoming their pasts, and energy in the form of Enkephalin, which is extracted from Abnormalities. Upon being released in the form of Light shining over the City, Carmen and Ayin would enter the Light itself, their essences becoming a part of it.

Interestingly enough, one of the bad, non-canon endings to LobCorp reveals that the incomplete Seed of Light would have the effect of turning people into Abnormalities! Which, makes sense, considering the main power of this Seed is to draw out formless concepts from the human subconscious and give them shape, literally the exact process that Abnormalities are created through.

However, this isn't what I want to focus on here. I want to focus on one of the components of the Seed of Light - Enkephalin. A substance that is extracted from Abnormalities, in the same process that results in E.G.O as a byproduct.

Can you see the pattern yet? Nosferatu's blood, an unstable E.G.O weapon, a Seed of Light created using Enkephalin. All of the sources of Distortions and Manifested E.G.Os are themselves either substances extracted from Abnormalities, or something created using substances extracted from Abnormalities.

Another funny thing to consider is the alternate source of Enkephalin we learn about from Limbus Company - human nervous systems. You know what other substance was extracted from a human nervous system? That's right, Cogito.

Perhaps that's why the Seed of Light had to also include emotional catharsis as an ingredient. Perhaps Enkephalin on its own being used makes it too close to Cogito, thus resulting in the same outcome. And perhaps, it's also why the Light is able to make people give form to thoughts in their own minds on such a wide scale. But, that's just speculation on my part.

So, now that this whole preamble is out of the way and we roughly know How the Light is able to cause people to Distort and Manifest E.G.Os, let's take a bit of a closer look. After all, the Light itself wasn't enough to make everyone Distort/Effloresce all at once, perhaps because it was cut short by Angela. No, the Light in its current actual form merely allows people to Distort/Effloresce, it's not the actual trigger.

Which, begs the question: what is the trigger?

From what we see in Wonderlab, Library of Ruina, Limbus Company, and Leviathan, there are two main variables that one needs to reach the threshold of either Distorting or Efflorescing.

The first is being in a state of high emotions.

Catt learning that all of the suffering their coworkers had gone through was for nothing due to the Manager having been dead all this time. Philip being at his lowest after the people who he cared about and who tried to protect him had died. Xiao losing the man she loved and her coworkers/friends one by one. Yan being forced to face where the Prescripts truly come from, and realizing that all of his attempts at working against them were in vain. Roland finally arriving at the moment he could make Angela suffer for what her actions caused. Vergilius losing Garnet and being reminded of the reason why he cared for the orphanage in the first place. Dongbeak being reminded of why she's doing what she's doing in the face of Dongrang's mocking and the possibility of her defeat. Dongrang being reminded of the better times and being forced to face just how far he has fallen.

The second is having strong, sincere desires, and the resolve to follow them.

Catt wishing that the heart could have done something in the face of this meaninglessness. Philip initially wishing to selfishly avenge those he lost, only to then break down and wish to shut the world out at all cost. Xiao wishing to not let her loved ones' deaths be in vain, to be someone that people can rely on despite her missteps. Yan's desires becoming one with the will of the City after falling into despair. Roland's desire to make Angela truly suffer as revenge for Angelica's death. Vergilius wishing to carry his sins and the suffering he's seen with him. Dongbaek wishing to be the soil that a new world could bloom upon. Dongrang initially wishing to run away from the shadow other people's accomplishments put him under, and then deciding to instead find his own path towards reaching success.

But then comes the question, what is the difference? What decides whether someone Distorts or Manifests E.G.O? Funnily enough, Chapter 18 of Leviathan spells it out.

To Distort is to fully become one with one's desire. It's to expel everything that isn't the "self", and to paint the world with that desire as well. It's making one's desires and thoughts take form through one's body, the self becomes unified and true.

On the other hand, to Manifest E.G.O is to "show restraint", as Carmen puts it. To understand and face reality as it is, yet still let one's desires take physical form, in this case as "clothes and tools". Using those thoughts and wishes rather than becoming one with them.

And this, well, succintly explains what form a Distortion or E.G.O takes on, doesn't it? It's entirely based on what desire triggered this process, as that's the concept that is given physical form thanks to the Light.

This isn't even speculation at this point. This is actually something directly spelled out in Leviathan as well.

To quote Vergilius describing his Effloresced E.G.O:

"I wear a crown of thorns upon my head, so that I may shoulder everything until my future victory. Faded laurel leaves sprout to cover all of the thorns on my head, and tears of blood flow from my eyes so I may see all the sins I'll have to bear from now on. And the thorny path I shall travel is a curtain of blood containing my karma, a crimson cloth that covers my whole being."

...

Yeah I think this is a good point to end this post off. This already took me several hours to write, dear lord.

#ask #anon #lu speaketh #limbus company #limbus company project moon #lcb analysis #lcb speculation #lcb theory #library of ruina #lobotomy corporation #leviathan project moon #wonderlab project moon

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duckiez · 2 years ago

Text

cw 4 incest (it's not 2 obvious but that is the intention from how it was written), zeke is in his 40s, reader is in her 20s, f!reader, virgin!reader, daddy kink, multiple petnames (sweetheart, princess, baby), zeke calls u "too little" so ddlg type elements?, use of the word "cunny" /// zeke is moderately ooc but idc this is self indulgent <33 /// minors n ageless blogs dni

zeke touches the skin of your inner thighs gently, admiring your delicate skin and how his touches make you shiver.

"what was that you said, sweetheart?" he knows exactly what you said, each syllable searing in his brain, desperate to remember it for the rest of time. he needs to hear it again.

you let out a little "hmph", feeling shy as you're made to repeat yourself. your voice comes out as a whisper, "feels funny... down there..."

"you need daddy to help you?"

you pout and nod, squeezing your thighs together and trapping his hand between them.

his face takes on a wolfish grin, having just heard the answer he was hoping to hear. he doesn't let you see this though, won't let you know that this has been his deepest desire for years now. that he's been craving to feel your tight, warm cunt milking him for all he's worth, despite that nagging voice in the back of his head berating him about how wrong it is.

besides, how could something so beautiful, so precious as yourself, be wrong?

"open your legs back up for me, princess."

you do as he says—as you always do—spreading your legs for him once again.

they aren't spread quite as wide as he'd like, so he nudges slightly at your knee, making extra space for his hand to slide down to the gusset of your soft purple panties. he places his fingers against it, then laying his palm flat on the skin just above your slit, cupping you for a moment, his tongue rolling against the roof of his mouth instinctively as he feels how hot you are.

"oh, sweet girl... you really need daddy's help don't you?"

he feels you clench when he asks his question, and you can feel tears starting to pool at your lower lash line, giving him another nod, "mhm."

"it's alright, 'm gonna take care of it. gonna take care of you."

he reaches his free hand down and wraps his arm around your waist before he finally starts playing with you, his middle finger tracing up your slit with feather-light motions.

your eyes flutter shut as you press your head back against his chest, quiet whimpers and hitched breaths falling out of you in tandem with your tears. a wet patch starts to form in your panties, the feeling of your arousal against his fingertip only encouraging zeke's teasing touches. as he continues, your hips gradually start rocking against his finger, another sight zeke has only pictured in his darkest fantasies, in the latest of hours.

you reach down to grab his wrist coyly, blinking up at him.

he looks down at you, still swiping his finger up your increasingly wet slit.

"dada... need more."

he shushes you, hooking your ankles over his legs, "what do good girls say?"

"p-please?"

he hums in approval, taking his hand away from your crotch only to snake it down past the waistband of your panties, his middle fingertip now ghosting over your clit.

you do your best to press your hips up into his touch again, but he holds you down tighter with his other arm. "be patient, let me give you what i know you need. you're too little to decide what you need."

your lip starts to quiver, but you make a hushed noise of acceptance.

zeke smiles at you, looking calm and kind but feeling nothing short of devious. its then he starts to tap the pad of his finger against your clit, pleased with himself as your breath starts to stutter loudly.

it's not long before he dips his finger down, though, scooping up your arousal before rubbing it in tight circles on your clit.

"cunny's so drippy... makin' such a mess." he sounds so calm despite the growing tightness in his pants, his cock pressing against the small of your back.

your legs start to shake again, unable to clamp together as his legs pin your own open. you hold tighter at his wrist, your fingernails digging into his skin.

"daddy, feels funny again..."

"i know, i know... you're doing such a good job."

you start to panic a little as he seemingly ignores your concerns, still rubbing never-ending spirals into your bundle of nerves. you go to open your mouth to repeat yourself, but all that comes out is an emphatic moan as you start to cum. your muscles contract, causing you to twitch intensely against him as you cry out.

he holds you tight to his chest, still moving his finger against you, his pace and pressure lessening.

"there you go... it's okay, you're okay."

tears fall down your heated cheeks as you come down from your orgasm, still gripping at his arm as you use him to tether yourself to reality.

zeke wants to fuck you, he really does, but given your reaction to just the touch of his fingers, he reluctantly decides to give you a break for the night, electing on treating you to his cock another time. likely tomorrow, he thinks.

instead, he pulls his hand out of your underwear and moves his fingers to his lips, sucking your juices off of them with a satisfied sound. he closes his eyes for a moment to bask in your taste, tongue peeking out to lick his lips before opening his eyes again. he sees you looking up at him, head tilted in curiosity, and he smiles.

"as sweet as you."

#teddy.writes #cw dark content #zeke yeager x reader

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miliwritesnow · 1 year ago

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@rosemarygalaxy here is the story you requested! If you're new here, you should probably read the other two stories before you read this mby checking out the list!

See the Masterlist > Unfortunately, the Google doc that I usually pull this from is a series of scenarios including my OC, which is why a lot of the content you see is of a girl with a very particular quirk and story. My OC is pictured in this post. I edited my stories to tailor them to people who want to insert themselves into the story, but from this point on, it will be hard to tell this particular story without mentioning my OC. If you will want more of these, I will have to continue without editing the name out. I hope you all will understand!

Bakugou Struggling with Love

They've been training for weeks now.

Every training session started with stretching, then they sparred quirkless for the first hour. She led this training, teaching the flaws in Bakugou’s style by creating and modifying existing moves to best suit the momentum he can generate using his quirk. She taught efficiency: not wasting a single movement and the principle of using your enemy's force against them. These sessions focused on repeating moves until it was engraved in the body: as a natural reaction, and not as a forethought. He didn’t enjoy getting hit every time he made a mistake but he was slowly getting used to the groove of her teachings and style.

Then, after training quirkless, Bakugou took the lead, applying her previous teachings with the added benefit of quirks. This is the part of training that Bakugou looked forward to the most. Here, he got to test the limits of her abilities, and pay her back for all the times he was flipped and pinned to the ground in humiliating positions.

Even though she was slowly overcoming the limits of her quirk by practicing its controls, she wasn't exactly strong because of it. Her reaction time, flexibility and combat sense were what truly shined in the light of her combat. Without it, her quirk wouldn’t even be close to reaching its full potential. Her metal-moving quirk was an extension of her every movement. As her fist extended, so did the metal, which reinforced each blow to be twice as strong. The plates on her arms took themselves apart and reinforced themselves during all the right moments, and though there were moments that looked like she would be vulnerable, she never gave Bakugou the chance to capitalize on them. No matter how much titanium he blew off from her form, she simply reformed it and created more from her shoulder. She was constantly remaking the metal scraps as shields, weapons, pointed spears, and armor as if it was a part of her body.

But even with the impressive display of strength, no amount of metal scraps were enough to defeat Bakugou. It was clear he was the aggressor in their fight with quirks involved. Payback never felt so sweet, especially when he glimpsed at her expressions as she tanked a particularly hard hit. It was so good to finally fight someone even close to his level.

It turns out, when Bakugou wasn't fully focusing on trying to fucking hit her, there was more of her to see. Suddenly, Bakugou noticed the way her brow raised when she spotted a mistake in his form. He noticed how her eyes narrowed and how her nose scrunched when things didn't quite go her way. He saw the way the corners of her lips rose and fell when she finally got something right. He stared at her so often that her features were basically engraved into his mind.

And pretty soon that was all he could see.

Bakugou thought about it for hours after each session, and even the hours before he fell asleep. Her face invaded his thoughts at odd parts of the day while he worked. When he fights and uses her moves, he can’t help but think about what expression would grace her face at that moment. The hours leading up to that Thursday evening were filled with his desire to fight and see her again.

It almost felt disgusting to think about one person so much.

And it felt even worse to be back in Saitama on a particular Wednesday evening for an extra’s birthday party. It felt like a Thursday, but without the training sessions he looked forward to the most, which was another way to describe that it was a shitty day. Three days ago, Dunce Face and Shitty Hair visited Tokyo to convince Bakugou to attend Ear Extra’s birthday party. Despite his protests and excuses that he didn’t want to stay late because of patrol rounds the next day, they still managed to annoy him into agreeing to come. He couldn’t hold in the string of curses that left his mouth when he realized how miserable it felt seeing these extras cling to him for dear life. Needless to say, he regretted his decision. Who the fuck even has a freaking birthday party on a Wednesday evening? Those fucking dumbasses. Don’t they have better shit to do?

By the time it was nine o’clock he bolted out of the party. No amount of whining from Shitty Hair was going to make him stay even a second longer. Stupid Deku wasn’t there, Icyhot wasn’t there and hell, the Old Hag couldn’t even make it despite living in the same city. It was a complete waste of Bakugou’s time.

On the walk back to the station, Bakugou spotted a familiar figure walking through the streets. It was a silhouette he knew all too well, approaching from the opposite direction. He unconsciously ducked behind the closest alley, hiding as he watched her jog along. She held a small box in her metal fingers as she headed the direction he just came from. If she was heading to the party, she was way over two hours late to it.

As he continues to walk forward, Bakugou passes the alley. He’s pulled away from the main street by a metal hand that clasped onto the dress shirt he wore. He’s pulled closer to her other hand’s pointed blade. The face that’s plagued Bakugou’s mind hovered dangerously close to his face. Her narrowed eyes bore into his in sparked fury, the expression lighting a small flame in Bakugou’s heart.

Her anger dissipates when she realizes when she seed his familiar face. Her shoulders untense and she lets go of her grip around his shirt. The pointed blade retracts into her arms seamlessly.

“What the hell are you doing here? Why were you following me?” she sighs, though her expression has softened, hints of agitation littered her voice. Upon a closer look, Bakugou noticed that she was still in her hero gear. The metal encased parts of her legs, and a large block of her titanium stuck to her back and neck, ready to engulf her at any moment. Sweat dripped all over her face from her jog.

Bakugou simply took all the details in, not bothering to explain himself.

She takes a moment to look at Bakugou’s attire and the expression on her face shifts again. Her eyebrows raise, and her mouth pulls apart by its lips slowly, as if a light flickers in her head. The unfamiliar expression rekindles the flame in his heart.

“Oh. You must be here for the party too right? Jiro’s house is this way. I was on my way too. We’re pretty late so we need to hurry!” She motions for him to follow, and Bakugou finds himself jogging along with her.

“I can’t stay for long. I’m taking Kaminari and Jiro’s night shift today so they can spend time together for her birthday. I just wanted to drop by to greet her and give her my gift,” she tells me. He finds his eyes fixated on her expressions yet again. Her calm gaze is fixed forward as she runs. "Oh. You don't have to come back tomorrow if you don't want to. It must be tiring going back and forth from Tokyo. You can take a break."

Bakugou furrowed his brow.

"I was planning on coming back. I don't have anything better to do anyways," he mutters. She hums.

"That's fine too. I'll probably be training all day since I'm off tomorrow. You can drop by early if you want."

"I'm off at 5. Expect me there at 5:30 or something," He mutters again. She nods, her eyes narrow as her lips curved upwards to a smile. Bakugou’s heart skips a beat.

"We're here." Even as they arrive, Bakugou doesn’t make a move to walk inside as she enters.

"I'll wait out here," she raises a brow, slowly, and hesitantly enters the door in confusion.

"Okay…"

The door closes and she's out of sight. Bakugou was left alone outside of Ear's house and the temperature rose in Bakugou’s blood. The embarrassment, anger and irritation finally sets in, exploding out at once.

Get out of my head. Get out of my head. GET OUT OF MY HEAD YOU OLD ASS HAG!

Bakugou slams his forehead into the building's concrete—over and over until the stupid thoughts get the fuck away from his head. What the fuck was he doing? He was supposed to be on his way home, preparing to sleep for his early patrol shift tomorrow. But now he’s here, possessed by some unknown fucking spirit into following her in the middle of the night like a goddamn creep, walking back to a lame-ass party that he had just fucking left.

He’s going fucking crazy.

Bakugou’s stuck in front of the apartment’s porch, caught in a cycle of banging his head against the wall and pacing around in circles. He wanted to end everything and just walk back to the station without waiting for her. Maybe then he wouldn’t be feeling all of these stupid things, and he could finally have some peace of mind at home.

But before he turns away, the door opens and all the thoughts about leaving disappear as if they didn’t exist in the first place. She stares at him silently, but walks without commenting further. Like a lost puppy, Bakugou followed her.

"I heard you were there earlier. You didn't have to walk me here, you know. I can handle myself." She says quietly. Bakugou only grunts in reply.

"You've been acting strange lately. Is everything alright with you?" Her head juts out from her position beside Bakugou, looking over to his face with a frown and her eyes furrowed. Even when she was a foot away, this distance was still too close for Bakugou’s comfort. He reeled his body back.

No. He wasn't okay, and it was all thanks to her.

"I'm fine,” he says tersely, completely disregarding the thought that invaded his mind.

She hums.

"It's probably because we haven't seen each other often, but I think you've changed a lot. You're a lot more…docile than I remember."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?!" He growls, the shit-faced expression on his face disappears for his usual forehead wrinkles. She giggles as she witnesses his usual behavior and tone make an appearance. Bakugou’s harsh expression was once again disarmed at the low rumble of her laughter.

"I don't know…You used to be much more aggressively impulsive. I couldn't stand you in high school, but… you know… that's not the case since we've been training," she says, a gentle smile on her face. "It's a nice change of pace from training alone most of the time."

She mutters and Bakugou remains silent to mull over her words.

This is the most he’s ever heard her talk. It was a great change from the usual fast-paced nature of their time together in training. Maybe it was because it was dark out, but Bakugou started to reflect on himself from their time together in high school.

He’s definitely changed since five years ago. It's not that he became calmer, it's just that a long time ago he had finally resolved the true meaning of victory, and he had become less agitated because of it. He accepted that that damn nerd Deku was a different breed from him. He was working so damn hard and growing inches when Deku was leaping miles with the same effort. The pressure to win… to be the best… all the mistakes… he didn't notice it, but it became a heavy burden on his back. He realized through their time together that winning as a hero was winning against the villains, not against your allies.

But don’t get him wrong—he still wanted to be the number one hero and beat that damn Deku back to his place. It’s just that he had the comfort of closure from overcoming such a big trial.

After that whole fiasco was over, Bakugou didn’t really know what to do with himself anymore. He’s been working, training non-stop for so long that aside from being the number one hero, there was nothing else to look forward to in his days.

Maybe that’s why he valued his time together with that old hag. He finally felt like he had something to look forward to in the week. He can hardly imagine his weeks without those training sessions anymore.

"We're at the station. I'll be heading back to the office. I'll… see you tomorrow." She gives a small wave and jogs back to wherever her office was.

Bakugou watched her retreating figure until he could no longer see her anymore. Even after she was gone, his heart and mind couldn’t find the rest he was hoping for with her disappearance. Instead, a cold, empty, uncomfortable feeling bloomed in his chest. He continued to think about her for the rest of the night, hardly getting any rest for that patrol shift in the morning.

You've caught up! Make sure to follow the blog to receive updates on the next part or check out my other work.

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good-beanswrites · 10 months ago

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sorryf im being mentally ill about hallucination event right now SO in the LCSyS au, would there be something like it :o? Like after all of it's over or something, how crazy would it be if Jackalope tried to get them all together just to do one last concert?

Never apologize for being mentally ill about Milgram content 😌👍 We are all in it together 😔👍I'm combining this answer with a reply to @kikithedeceiver (and spiraling out of control from both)

I've had a lot of ideas about the project being public in LCSyS, but was holding off including it for few reasons – the audience’s voices would conflict with Es as their own character. Knowing the public was watching would change the way the prisoners acted (even if they thought they were acting natural). It’s a long time that the families would have to deal with the public knowing about their loved one’s almost-crime. I also like the idea of this au ending with the prisoners returning to very normal lives.

Buuuuut it is such a fun idea, and popularity seems an essential part of an actors au. So, I’m not naming this as canon, but here’s a pitch if you liked that idea and wanted to run with it :3

The team doesn’t tell the participants that they’ve been recording/collecting certain material to release. If a translation is left out by accident, the prisoners just assume it’s for a foreign team member – they have no idea how close/far Milgram reaches.

The third trial begins. The prisoners are inside the prison, and on the final stretch of the trials. On the outside, Jackalope contacts families for signatures to release the material publicly. The team thought about censoring names and things, but seeing current fans’ investigation skills, they knew it was a matter of time before they put pieces together anyway. This may be super illegal but for the sake of the story I’ll say that family consent is enough lmao.

Some of them are easy to convince to sign off on everything, since it can raise awareness for their loved one’s struggles. Muu’s family takes the longest, as it would risk ruining their reputation. (They’re only swayed because it truly is a great opportunity to show off Muu’s talents for those modeling scouts, and she didn’t actually kill anyone in the end.) Kazui’s family refuses to release his info, but Hinako uses sway with her marital status to sign off instead (I pictured things happening fast enough where she hasn’t gotten an official divorce yet). Hinako still struggles with what he did, but she thinks he’s doing something incredibly brave now. I’m not 100% sure what’s going through Amane’s father’s mind, but if the murder really was in line with the cult’s beliefs, maybe he believes that Amane will be be a shining representation of their religion. He wants to show her off as their little golden child.

The experiment is published in its current form: music videos, voice dramas, timeline conversations, interrogation questions, etc. It’s brought to more than just science/psychology circles, though. Jackalope has no shame in marketing it as entertainment, hence the stockholders mentioned. He assures the sociologists that this will be a major breakthrough for them. He tells music labels he's got the new hit thing for them. He leans into the excitement of releases and merchandise in the hopes of gaining attention for the experiment. Needless to say, it works. Even though the audience has no sway over Es’ decisions, they are encouraged to make decisions for themselves on what they would judge each prisoner. There’s the same types of theory/analysis/discourse posts passed around.

When the trials end, the prisoners are released into the world to find they’re famous. Instead of trudging back to their lives feeling that society hates them, they find tons of adoring fans telling them how much they understand and forgive them. Even if their final verdict was guilty, they have hundreds of voices assuring them that they are loved. That they are not alone. This attention really helps Haruka, Amane, (and maybe Es) who don’t have a good home to go back to. Not only can they reenter society, they are welcomed with open arms. They are looked after and showered in love. Some of the adults realize they want to use this popularity to lead the charge of social change. They create/support projects meant to help people who are facing their struggles.

And of course, there’s the other type of fame as well. Yuno loves answering fanmail and turning her karaoke hobby into a music career. Kazui goes from a life of feeling rejected and disgusting to scrolling through comments upon comments of men oogling him. Mahiru gets offers from fashion magazines and blogs to write up sections about self-love. Amane gets to live out her dream of being a performer, hinted at in her first two mvs. Fuuta is flustered by all the positive attention his appearance/voice is getting. Mikoto… well, I just wish him luck when he opens tiktok…

Which brings us to the live event! The prisoners have tried to keep in touch while adjusting to their new lives as almost-murderers-turned-idols. They’re amazed at how well-recieved the trial songs were. Those were some of their most personal, shameful secrets, and people relate to them? People love singing them?? People want a concert featuring them??? Jackalope encourages them to get together for one last encore. Some are thrilled with the opportunity, others are still nervous about the whole thing. Some think it’s in poor taste, that Jackalope is milking them for entertainment. But with a bit of conversing amongst themselves, they realize they all want a chance to sing like that again, and see each other in one place again. (It’s ironic because in my head Mahiru is the one to convince everyone to come ;--;)

It’s strange putting on the uniforms again. Es is unsure about putting on their guard’s cloak. But the minute they stop onstage, they’re met with wild applause. They can sing their fears and dreams to a huge crowd and see in real time how it’s reaching others. They hear the cheers after each song. They hear that it’s streamed all over the world. All of them have an absolute blast, and pour their heart and soul into their performances.

#milgram #lights camera sing your sins #thank you both for the comments!#its not the direction i want for the fic but its SUCH a fun direction 😭#as you can see from the annoyingly long post ive already had a lot of ideas for it asdfsdf #so many of the prisoners struggle with lack of love/attention -- so introducing them to the current fans who with shower them in adoration #always makes me happy to think about #those who feel undesirable see their faces on merch and people who try to mimic them #those who feel unlovable hear their name chanted when they enter the room #and mug i know that technically they could have a concert without everything being public but i tried to keep it accurate to the real event #and yes -- fuuta does put on an eyepatch on a whim halfway through 😂

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