#price comparison theme

[plutoswritingplanet]

Hand That Feeds (Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female!Reader)

a/n: as promised, here's the full chapter. as a person who's only played skyrim and oblivion, writing for fallout is like throwing a hot dog into an empty corridor (i will not elaborate)

Warnings: Suggestive Themes, Attempted Kidnapping, Medical Malpractice, Cooper is a mean old man with a boner. Takes place before the events of the TV series.

Summary: The Ghoul takes up a bounty that has been gathering dust for quite some time. You, bored out of your mind, decide getting kidnapped might be the perfect way to entertain yourself. Both of you bite off more than you can chew. Cross-Posted on AO3

PT. 2

Copper knows this job will be different, before he even decides to take it up. 

Scribbled with flaky charcoal, your face looks at him from the notice board every time he delivers a bounty. For months now, a humble title of "The Healer" hangs without change, between criminals, raiders, and people who were in the wrong place, at the wrong time. 

Cooper hasn't considered going for you, it was never his first choice. The bounty on your head was moderately low, in comparison to your notice board neighbors.  He had other priorities, bigger than a smeared over pretty face, for half his usual reward.

Until one day, as he stomped his way through the dusty floor, his eyes caught onto your wanted poster yet again. 

Well, to be frank, his eyes strayed towards your portrait almost every time he crossed the threshold, but he would never admit it to anyone, let alone himself. Like a constant companion, overlooking all his accomplishments since he decided to stick around the place, your empty gaze followed every transaction, every head delivered onto the table. Some semblance of a routine, he supposed, looking over the board. 

 There, under the regular information, freshly painted numbers stared back at him. A new bounty, significantly bigger than any reward on the board. The red paint was still dripping down the yellowed paper, the addition must've been made quite recently. 

A hefty price. One, that would supply him with enough chems to last for half a year at least. Tempting. Especially now, that he's down to only a couple of vials, his coughing fits becoming longer and closer between. So tempting, in fact, that he tears your wanted poster from the board, finally getting a closer look, a deliberate one. 

Booker gives him a raised eyebrow, all the commentary needed, encapsulated in this simple gesture, and Cooper shoots him a nasty look. There aren't many requirements regarding the job, except one, annoying detail. 

You have to be alive and in good condition. 

Now, alive Cooper could do. Alive is easy. Good condition, however, opened a whole shitbag of problems, which he would be a fool to overlook. Still, the prospect of such money couldn't be ignored. And, he'd be damned to admit it, but he was curious. Who were you? Why haven't you been caught for such a long time? What caused this sudden raise in bounty?

- Did you piss someone off that bad, little lady? - he asks the yellowed paper, and gets no answer, as expected. 

***

The bar is filled with patrons, all tripping over themselves to loose as many caps on cheap alcohol and chems from under the table. It's not as rowdy, as one would expect. This settlement must be one of the few more civilized ones, for the Wasteland's standards at least. Farmers, mechanics, shopkeepers, they all clam together, smelling of smoke, sweat, and alcohol. 

You're here too, hunched over your drink with a sour expression. Your shoulders are slumped, covered by a piece of cloth, that used to be a shawl, but currently looks more like a rag used to wipe down countertops. Despite that, Cooper sees in the way your body is poised, taunt and graceful, that you're neither a naive Vault Dweller, nor a scruffy raider. A skinny scarf is tied around your neck in a fashion, that reminds Cooper of the old westerns he used to star in. 

The sudden influx of memories is neither wanted, nor useful, and he clicks his teeth in annoyance at his own betraying mind.

The Healer, he thinks to himself, making his way through the crowds, until he reaches the side of the bar, one seat from you. Not a glance is spared in his direction. The townsfolk must be used to seeing Ghouls run around the place. Still, when he orders a glass of moonshine, out of the corner of his eye, he can see you peaking at him with curiosity. There's a intelligent glint in your eye, and Cooper feels a shiver of curiosity climbing up his back. He scolds himself for being too old imediately after. 

By all that's holy, you look tired. And not the kind of tired, that sticks to a person living in the Wastelands, no. It's the exhaustion of a shitty day, dragging your eyelids down to flutter against creeping up sleep. The alcohol can't be helping your state, however, it will most definitely help Cooper. He almost feels sorry for you, but if your dumb enough to leave yourself in the open like that, while being hunted, there's nothing more he can do but take advantage. 

Cooper turns his face ever so slightly towards you, looking over your expression for any signs of recognition. He sees none, more than that, there is no emotion at all, not even a blink at his fucked up face. Raising his hand, he touches the rim of his hat in a wordless greeting. 

That finally wrenches some resemblance of a reaction out of you, and with a blink, you tip your glass towards him, before downing its contents. Your cheeks are flushed, lips wet with remnants of moonshine and there's a lock of hair falling out of place, and damn it, Cooper suddenly feels so old.

Ordering drinks while in your current state wasn't the most intelligent thing you could've done. The harsh taste of alcohol burned your throat in a way that was less than pleasant, and for a moment you consider turning to some good old chems for help with... Well everything really. 

It started with Old Lady Sal. 

You've replaced her hip a while back with some scrap metal and a fuckload of reused body parts. Now, every other day she demands you check it out, make sure it's in working order. Which it always is. This isn't your first replaced hip, you know what you're doing.

Then, you had to sit through the insanely uncomfortable marriage offer from Old Lady Sal's grandson, who is not only dumb as a bag of rocks, but also fourteen. 

And to top it all off, suddenly everyone needs you to solve their particular pains of the day. There must be an epidemic of aching heads sweeping through the town, because as soon, as you flee from Old Lady Sal's home, you're being hounded by everyone and their mother, looking to you for help. You were in town for two hours, and your herbs reserve went down to one fucking leaf. 

The Ghoul keeps looking at you from under his hat, and at this point it's gotten from uncomfortable, to straight up creepy. You were not about to pretend this stranger's interest in your particular person didn't unnerve you. Although, thanks to your mother's efforts, and later your own, the town practically worshipped the ground you walked on, the same could not be said about the rest of the Wasteland. 

You had enemies. You had people, who would love to get their hands on you. You were also deeply aware of the bounty placed on your person. Last you checked, it was quite small, but Ghouls don't have it easy out there, and if there's anyone looking like a bounty hunter in this fine establishment, it's the shady guy giving you a shameless once-over. 

So, you place a couple of caps on the counter, and gather yourself best you can. 

Perhaps drinking on an empty stomach was not the best idea, because as soon as you slide off the barstool, your head does a flip. Your balance completely off, you trip over your own feet, already accepting the floor, as your soon-to-be companion. 

That's when something strangely warm wraps itself around your waist, hoisting you up against the counter. The Ghoul smells just about as pleasant as one would expect, but moonshine is a powerful sedative, and instinctually, you lean into the warm embrace. Eyelids flutter, as you look up into the sunken eyes of your savior, and you can see his throat move, as he swallows thickly. 

- Careful now, sweetheart - the voice is low and reminds you of wind whistling through leaves - Gotta keep you in good condition.

Now, if you were completely sober, or at least less drunk, those words would fire an orchestra of alarm bells in your head. Instead, you smile, teeth on full display, as you reach up, to undo a tattered scarf from around your neck. 

- Mmm - you sigh, throwing the piece of cloth across the Ghoul's shoulders - My hero. 

Then, you grab onto his arm, still holding a tight grip around your waist, and lift it up by the sleeve of his coat. Despite your drunken disposition, you duck under the limb gracefully, and shoot the Ghoul a nasty, fully aware smirk. Realization flickers across his face, but before he can move to catch you, a series of body-wrecking coughs shakes his entire frame. 

You hesitate just for a second. The instinct to help is ingrained into your very being, passed down like a mantle from your angel of a mother. But then, self-preservation kicks in, and as the strager reaches into the pocket of his coat, to find his inhaler, you're already out the door, throwing yourself into a mad dash towards your cabin.

You were drunk, not stupid. 

***

The sun has barely had time to rise, when you're rudely awoken by the sound of a fist, pounding desperately on your front door. Hard enough to make the hinges squeak and shake. 

It tears you from your already light sleep, and you scramble to your feet, hastily pulling a shirt over your head, as you make your way towards the entrance. Hand on your pistol, you look out through the small space between two planks, which make up your door. 

It's not hard to understand what is happening. You remember one of the men standing outside your door from the nearby town. Benny or something like that, you were never good at remembering names. Hanging on his arm was another, barely breathing man, who was currently bleeding out right onto your porch. Pete. This one you recognize as a farmer and a hunter. You've treated multiple bites and scratches on him. So did your mother. 

Cursing under your breath, you undid all the makeshift locks with record speed, throwing the door open.

- I'm sorry to bother your so early in the morning Healer - you wince at the title, already making a beeline for the table in your kitchen - Pete and I were just...

Both men follow you closely behind, Pete's boots making a disgusting, sloshing noise. 

- Put him here, face up - you command, throwing a couple of papers to the floor.

- ...Coming back from a night hunt, and this fucking Ghoul was asking around town about you...

- Cut his shirt - another command, thrown over your shoulder, as you begin to rummage through a cabinet filled with chemicals and various herbs, barely registering the words. 

- ...And when we started asking questions back at him, he just shot Peter, right then and there...

You pluck a couple of twisted, dried herbs into your trusty, stone mortar, spitting into it, to gather some moisture. Throwing a semi-clean rag at the man, your voice cuts through his rambling.

- Put pressure on it.

There is no exit wound, and you almost sigh with annoyance at the prospect of fishing out a bullet. It had to be done, however, putting your sleep depriation and a building headache aside, you scoop out some of the herbal paste with your fingers, before pushing past the man.

- Hold his legs down - you mutter, taking a blink-and-you-miss-it moment to check Pete's temperature.

- ...Thankfully, he didn't kill Pete on the spot, so I brought him here straight away.

Pete flinches on the table, as you apply the paste to the wound. That's about as big of a reaction he's capable of, given the amount of blood he just spilled onto your porch. Another thing to clean up, after you take care of the table. What a way to start a fucking day. You can see his eyes follow your movements, barely conscious, but still alive. Sweat beads and gathers at his brow, and you reach out with a clean rag, to dab it off his skin.

Then, as if coming out of a stupor, your eyebrows scrunch together. The story of this faithful encounter finally registering in your brain. 

- A man was asking about me? - you ask, despite already knowing the answer. 

- Well, kinda. A Ghoul. 

You knew which Ghoul, it was not difficult to piece together. 

- And he didn't kill Pete, just injured him - you can feel another headache brewing just behind your eyes, as the sheer stupidity of the man in front of you finally comes to the surface.

They led him to you. 

Three, steady knocks to your door, smug and confident, interrupt the conversation, and deep down you can see the future of every person present in this cabin. As if you've developed some magical powers. 

Stilling your suddenly trembing hands, you settle the mortar back on the table. Thenyou instruct the man to keep pressure once more. Covering yourself with a robe you got as payment for stitching up a sliced finger, you make your way to the door. Fabric flows around your feet, shuffling like the wings of a moth. 

Your eyes flicker to the side, where, placed against a wall, stands a small end table. Under it, you've hidden a rather large kitchen knife, and for a second you debate, whether going for it now would be the best course of action. Call it dumb optimism, but deep down, you pray this is some big misunderstanding, and you'll be allowed to go back to your patient, preferably sooner than later. 

There's no need to bother with a gun, no time too. Pete is bleeding out faster than a stuck pig, and you were not one to leave your customers unsatisfied. Or, in this particular line of work, dead. 

The door opens with a slam. There's a small indent in the wooden wall, where the door handle has hit the surface.  The cabin is slowly entering the state of ruin, although, some places are more taken care of than others. Still, it has a roof, a semi intact entrance and even a window with actual glass in it. Quite the luxury in the Wastelands. 

Cooper didn't know what to expect, not really. Seeing you for the first time gave him a mixture of varying feelings, as well as a rather uncomfortable throbbing in the nether regions. Who could blame him, really? Your wanted poster gave you no favors, and although he was able to recognize you almost immediately, he still felt slightly short of breath.

He scolds himself for getting distracted by his thoughts, and as your eyes lock down on him, he lifts the barrel of his gun, touching the rim of his hat. Your eyes shift like little sparkling gems onto the weapon, before your jaw locks.

- Salutations Ma'am - his voice is rough from lack of use, the southern twang even more prominent, than usual. - I believe our introduction was cut short.

Yellowed teeth flash in a mirthless smirk, and then his expression tightens.

Cooper is used to people reacting, let's say, negatively towards him. Fear is the most common, and he can't blame the masses, he really can't. Disgust, as well, happens quite often. But as he looks over your feverish gaze, he can't really see either one of the emotions. 

No, what you give him is an annoyed roll of your eyes, and he's surprised to say, it bothers him more than he'd be comfortable admitting. He's a goddamned bounty hunter, a ruthless one at that, and a fucking Ghoul. Fuck you mean, you're annoyed by his presence?

- Look - you're already turning away from him, shooting a look towards your kitchen, where he can see a leg twitch in a spasm on top of your table - I ain't got time for whatever this is - your hands wave around in Cooper's general direction. - You'll have to wait your turn.

- Ah, well, I'm not the patient kind.

A squeak of surprise leaves you, as the Ghoul pushes past your body, entering your house gun first, murder clear in his deep set eyes. His steps take him through your living room, dangerously close to your kitchen. You know exactly, what's going to happen, and your arms shoot out on instinct. His body is unnaturally warm, even through layers of clothing, as you wrap yourself around his waist, tugging him back with all your might.

 He looks down on you, more bothered by the sudden contact, than the fact you're trying to stop him. It gives you a small leverage, and you push him back a couple of steps, settling yourself between the entrance to the kitchen, and the bounty hunter, raising your hands and getting ready to fight. 

- I don't have time for this kinda bullshit. Git. - Cooper snarls at you, his gun-free hand coming up to grab at your hair.

Before you have time to react, five fingers twist hard into your roots, and you stifle a scream, as the Ghoul pushes you off of him. On instinct, your hands come up to tug against his wrist, nails digging into the leathery skin. He lets you go with a hiss, and you use that second, to throw yourself towards the end-table. 

Your fingers find the handle with a practiced ease. Then, your body twists like a radioactive viper, and all Cooper sees is a flash of metal. The blade is rusty and chipped, but it could still do some damage. Especially now, that it's pressed against Cooper's jugular, the dull, cold presence halting all his movements. Your eyebrows raise in small recognition at the thin fabric tied around his neck. The scarf. Your mouth goes dry.

- Everything okay back there? - Benny asks from the kitchen, you can hear his approaching footsteps.

- All's well, kee pressure on the wound - your voice is tight with nerves, but the man obeys. 

Cooper watches your face carefully, his gun tucked neatly into the meat of your stomach, ready to fire, should the situation escalate. You can feel it, pressed right into the hollow space under your spleen, a good place to be shot, if you could even say that. You're dealing with a professional, apparently. 

- We seem to have a bit of a conundrum on our hands, little lady - Cooper drawls, voice bordering on a whisper, his eyes follow the way your tongue darts out to lick your chapped lips. 

- I have a patient, he needs help - you explain in an even tone, breathing shallow - After that, I'll deal with you.

Despite being at a loosing position, you refuse to back down, your eyes glued to the Ghoul in front of you. You're bracing yourself for the imminent pain, should he decide shooting you would be easier, but it never comes. Instead, the barrel of the gun presses further into your flesh, before lightly retracting. The cold metal is dragged up, across the expanse of your stomach. You bite the inside of your cheek, and surpress a shiver, when it travels between the swell of your breast, and settles into the dip of your collarbones. 

You swallow thickly, Cooper's eyes catching the movements of your trachea like a hungry vulture. The tip of the gun touches the underside of your chin, pushing your head to one side, then the other, as if the bounty hunter is taking inventory in a butcher's shop. Once he's had his fill, he lifts the gun completely, raising his hands as a peace offering.

- Git - you whisper back at him, and a flash of something rushes through his mangled expression. 

You take a step back, chest rising in falling rapidly, blade still in front of you, just in case. Then another step, and the bounty hunter dusts off his coat, before sitting down on a stool in your cluttered living room. You don't like the way he looks at you, eyes shining from under his hat, as he occupies your space like it belongs to him. Long legs apread in front of him, and you try very hard not to sneak a peak between them. Finally, you cross the entrance to the kitchen, and the knife is tucked under the leather belt of your pants. 

A sigh, a roll of shoulders, and you're off.

Cooper watches with curiosity, as you immediately start to work on the poor bastard stuck on your table. Your back is taunt, hands bloodied but steady, as you lean down to take the metal bullet out of the wound. The herbal paste you've provided earlier has dried up, and is currently working wonders for the bleeding, while you reach inside with not-so-sterile pliers. 

- Hold him down - he hears you say, as the legs on the table start to twitch again. 

Finally, a metallic sound of the bullet hitting a dish is heard, and you stand up, making your way towards the cabinet filled with chems. There is a grace to your movements Cooper wasn't expecting. Reminds him of dancers, ballet ones. 

Back in the day, his ex-wife would drag him to all those ballet shows, ones that made him feel stupid and uncultured. He swallows around the memory, willing it to die down, as you shoot him a cautious look over your shoulders. 

He wiggles his gun at you lightly, a reminder, that all this is happening because of his good humor. You scoff. 

Pete starts screaming as soon, as you begin to dress the wound properly. Chemical smell fills the air, and although Cooper lacks the nose to feel it, his eyes water all the same. You seem to be unbothered, years of doing this exact job must've hardened your senses. Finally, it's done. There's nothing more you can do for the man, and you wipe your hand on your forehead, leaving a large smear of red.

- He'll be fine - you mutter towards the other man in the kitchen - He needs rest, and a loads of it too. 

A couple of small bottles and dried herbs land onto a checkered cloth, and you tie it closed, like a small care package. 

- Dress his wounds twice a day - you press the package into the other man's hands while he helps his partner off the table - Good luck. 

Cooper glares at the men, as they stagger out the front door. They don't seem to pay him any mind. Well, the shot one definitely doesn't, he can barely walk on his own. His friend is too preoccupied with keeping him on his arm, to even acknowledge that this whole situation was orchestrated by Cooper himself. Or perhaps, he's to stupid to connect the dots. It's hard to tell these days. 

The door closes with a click, and Cooper stands up from his stool, sauntering over to the kitchen. 

You're currently trying to wash blood off of your hands, which are stained crimson almost up to your elbows. It goes about as well as expected, and as you dry your arms with a rag, there's still a pinkish stain to your skin. 

The table is a mess, blood and herbs seeping into the wooden planks which make up the surface. Cooper leans against the doorframe, as he watches you splash some chemicals onto the wood. It bubbles up in a disgusting mixture of red, green and yellow. You let it sizzle for a moment, before taking that same bowl of water you've been using to clean up, and dumping it all onto the table. The mixture flows down to the floor, the residing surface looking much cleaner. 

- Now, as much as I'd love to sit around and play house with you, honey - Cooper starts, and has to clear his throat, when you look up at him wordlessly, blood on your face and fire in your eyes - I have a bounty to collect.

Sighing, you push your hair back from your forehead, exhaustion, which is synonymous with living in the Wastelands seeping off of you like a tidal wave. 

- Do you have a name? - you ask, reaching for a leather bag sitting on one of the chairs. 

- I do - he says, and you roll your eyes at the deliberate lack of information his answer has given you. 

You mutter something that sounds scarily close to "asshole", and begin to chuck a couple of vials into the bag, then some herbs, then a water canteen. It's like you're ready to move out at any time, and a sneaking suspicion arises in Cooper's mind. This isn't the first time you're in this situation, if your calm demeanor is anything to go by. Suspicious, highly so, and as you turn around to face him, Cooper raises his hand ever so slightly. 

Your eyes fall onto the bundle of rope in his grip, eyebrow raising in annoyance. 

- You serious? 

- As a funeral, sweetheart - he sways the bundle lighty, his other hand pointing the gun at your abdoment - Now, are you going to be good, and come over here? Or should I come over there and make it unpleasant for us both?

- You're already making it unpleasant - you mutter, but cross the kitchen towards him, raising your hands, palms up. 

- Wait. 

Confusion hits you, when the Ghoul reaches into his pocket, producing a small piece of torn cloth. Your entire body goes still, as he grabs onto your chin, cold metal of his gun digging into your cheek, the barrel settling into the juncture between your neck and your shoulder. Then, despite your best efforts at freeing yourself from his grip, he brings the cloth to his lips, wetting the fabric with his tongue. 

The bloody smear on your forehead is wiped down rather roughly, and you twist in place like an impatient toddler, when Cooper leans his head back, to look at his handywork. You shiver with disgust, at the feeling of his drying saliva on your skin, and as soon, as he lets you go, you begin to rub at your forehead with the sleeve of your robe. 

- Good condition - he rasps, and if looks could kill, he'd be six feet under.

He gives you a nasty smirk, settling his gun down for just a moment, and grabbing your wrists together, so he can tie them up. Which is all the time you need to make a decision, and kick out your knee, nailing him right in the crotch. He doubles over, cursing loudly, hands shooting out to grab you, but all he catches is your tattered robe, which you slide out of easily. 

Fater than he would've anticipated, you grab at your bag, and bolt to the back of the kitchen, where he watches you jump over the table and all but slide out of the house through an open window. It's like a choreographed dance, the way you move out of his grasp. When he reaches the window himself, there's no sight of you, other than the rustling of tree branches somewhere in the woods behind your cabin. 

- Fucking women. - Cooper whistles.

He can't deny the shiver of excitement running down his back, as he secures the hat over his eyes.  If that's how you want to play, he would oblidge. It's been far too long since he could actually enjoy a more challenging bounty. Cooper slowly walks out of your cabin, looking over all the little trinkets you've gathered inside. Then, almost lazily, he lifts the robe you've left him to his nose. He feels nothing, of course, but he has quite a vivid imagination. Vivid enough to supply him with a memory of a scent from his past life. Lavender, he'd bet you smell like lavender. 

Your tracks are deep and visible across the ground, and so, the hunt begins. 

[darklordofthesimp]

Wrath (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader)

Summary: After you risk your life protecting Ghost, the Lieutenant is furious. Angry enough, in fact, to pay you a late-night visit.

Requested by @chippyroh :

#69 Shut up or I'll shut you up.

#71 You’re driving me out of my fucking mind

A/N: Listen here you little shits, I will not be making a part 2 to this and you cannot convince me this time.

Category: Sexual Tension || Angst || Enemies to ? || Hurt/ Comfort

Warnings: Graphic language, Manhandling/Rough-handling, Sexually suggestive themes.

It was meant to be an easy mission but, really, what were you expecting?

You were experienced enough to know that when it was meant to be a breeze, you had to prepare for a fucking hurricane. And as Ghost stormed towards you, his fists clenched and his gaze furious, you knew this was gonna be one hell of a storm.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” He didn’t stop until his chest bumped into yours, heaving and hard. His wide shoulders swayed from side to side as the officer sized you up. “Are you fucking stupid?”

You grit your teeth and glared. “I just saved your fucking life, Sir.”

You weren’t much in comparison to the towering figure that Ghost presented, you knew that. Still, you stood as tall as you could manage and set your jaw. You were right to provide him with backup. You were right to have taken out the people on his tail.

You’d done everything right.

So, why was he so fucking angry?

“Don’t start this shit with me, Sunshine,” Ghost hissed, fingers wrapping around your bicep. He pulled you in flush against his body, your armoured plates knocking against his. “That was out of line.”

“Saving your life?” You questioned, bewildered. “Saving your life was out of line, Ghost?”

His eyes narrowed and a deep rumble reverberated in his chest.

“No,” he snapped, leaning back. “Pretending you were anything but a fucking sniper was, though.”

Your breath left your lungs as though you’d been sucker-punched. You searched what little features you could see for an ounce of regret, any softness in his features to show he didn’t mean it- but the kohl on his eyes only highlighted the sharpness of his gaze.  

“This isn’t over, Sunshine,” Ghost warned, snatching his hand from your arm. He imparted a glare that had your throat tightening, before he brushed past you roughly.  For once, you wished you had never made it home.

______

You were angry at yourself for crying.

It was in your own shower and hidden from the rest of your unit, but you were still upset.

Your life was insane and full of enough sorrow to destroy most, and there were more than enough reasons to justify an emotional break. However, crying over a man? You were ashamed. Embarrassment seared red hot across your chest, it made your blood boil- it made you angry.

Who the fuck did he think he was?

You had done everything right. Price had clapped you on your back upon your return, commending your quick thinking. Ghost had scoffed at that, watching the interaction from the darkest corner of the room.

“Leaving your post is not ‘quick-thinking.’” The words had been a snarl from beneath his bloodied mask.

Price raised a brow as you shifted on your feet furiously. “I saved you on the evac, Sir. There was no fucking post.”

Ghost took a step toward you, his finger pointing at your chest as though he were marking you for death. You were thankful Price stepped in, you were angry but you weren’t stupid. You didn’t want to go toe-to-toe with the grim reaper himself but you would to defend your actions.

“How about you both hit the showers and cool off. Good job on today,” he gave the two of you a pointed look, “the both of you.”

You said nothing, only returning Ghost’s glare vehemently before storming off.

Your clothes felt too soft on your freshly scrubbed skin. It always felt like that after a mission; everything smelt too good, felt too good and sounded too quiet. It would take you a couple of hours to adjust, but your blood burned at your surroundings.

You were already overstimulated and now you were uncomfortable.

Fuck you, Simon Riley, you ingrateful twat.

You wanted to find him and shake some sense into him. You wanted a fucking thank you. You wanted his recognition, his approval and you seethed at your desire to feel accepted by him.

You dried your hair roughly with the towel, your frustrations translating into your menial tasks. Angrily shower, angrily dry off, angrily get dressed- you were fucking furious and you couldn’t get past it.

Bang, bang, bang.

You gasped, dropping the towel as someone battered against your door. It shook on the hinges under the pressure, and you stood frozen for a long moment. It was late, there was no reason for anyone to be visiting.

Everybody from the 141 was out and about, you and Ghost had returned a day earlier than expected.

You frowned as they knocked again with the flat part of their fist, the dull thuds picking up in volume. You scooped the towel from the floor, throwing it over the chair in the corner.

“Coming,” you shouted before they could go for a third round. You worried the frame wouldn’t hold up much longer. No sooner than you had twisted the handle, the door swung open. You leapt out of the way, eyes wide as a towering figure stepped through the threshold, slamming the door shut behind them.

The lock engaging behind him sounded like a death knell.

“Sir-“ you rasped, stumbling backward as he approached you.

“Cut that shit out,” Ghost snapped, “you know my fucking name.”

Fuck.

You stared up at him with wide eyes, as you continued back into the room. He was furious, just as heated as he had been when he’d gotten back from the mission. The man had clearly showered and changed, standing before you in a hoodie and balaclava.

“What the fuck are you doing in here?” You glared at him, heart leaping into your throat as your back finally hit the wall. Ghost’s eyes slid to each side of you, marking how you were trapped between your own furniture.

“You know what you did today, Sunshine,” he said heatedly, “everyone can congratulate you about it as much as they want but you listen to me. Never do that again.”

You sneered, leaning forward. Ghost inclined his head, meeting you halfway as your noses nearly brushed. “I saved your life within the parameters of the mission and I’ll do it again and again if I fucking have to.”

“You were almost killed!” Ghost’s finger rose to press into your chest harshly. “Almost had a fucking bullet put between your eyes.”

“But I didn’t! Had I not stepped in you would have been a fucking pin cushion, Simon!”

You were forced back into the wall as he smacked an open palm into the plaster beside your head. You jumped at the sound by your ear, your lip trembling beneath his gaze. You could feel the heat emanating from his body in waves, he was fucking burning.

“What?” You whispered, your mouth dry all of a sudden. “You gonna fuckin’ hit me, Riley? You gonna hit me for doing my job?”

“Of course not, you idiot.” He snapped, leaning back. Ghost’s eyes narrowed as his hand slid from the wall by your head, resting at his side.

“Why are you here then? Barging into my room, locking the door behind you, putting me against the wall,” you listed, your voice low and urgent as you glared at him. Your chest heaved against his as you raced to catch your breath. “You’re either here to fuck me or fight me and we both fucking know that you hate my guts, Riley. So, get to it and get the fuck out.”

“Shut the fuck up, Sunshine,” Ghost rasped, shifting on his feet. “You deserve to get your shit rocked for the way you acted out there.”

 You searched his gaze, his eyes the colour of a stormy ocean as he glared right back at you. “You don’t even know what you’re doing here,” you snarled, leaning forward once more. This time, Ghost didn’t challenge you. “You don’t think you deserve to be saved, L.T?”

“Shut up,” he snapped.

“Your life is worth more than mine, Simon,” you growled, poking a finger into his chest. “You’re my superior, it’s my job to protect you.”

“Then fucking listen when I say shut up, or I’ll shut you up.”

“Sniper or not, if it ever came down to me or you- it’s my fucking job to die for you-“

Your back slammed against the wall, breath leaving your body at the impact. You were disoriented for a short moment, vision hazy as you tried to regain your bearings. His body was pressed against yours, his hands gripping your shoulders so tight you knew you’d be bruised.

You couldn’t think, you couldn’t anticipate his next move. Not when he gripped your jaw, half his fingers on your face and the others wrapped against your neck. He leaned down and you flinched, opening your mouth to gasp.

He wasn’t going to hit you.

Instead, Ghost kissed you.

You don’t know when he had rolled his mask upward, but his mouth was hot and urgent against yours, groaning when he swallowed your gasp before it could come to fruition. He tasted sweet on your tongue and poisonous to your mind, drowning all your inhibitions in his touch. You whimpered against him and a wicked smile curved his lips upward.

You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think. Your hands gripped his shirt tightly as his free hand moved to tangle itself in your damp hair, your dripping strands locked tightly between his fingers.

When he pulled away you were dizzy, your head falling back to rest against the wall. Your chest heaved as your heart pounded against your ribs, demanding to be freed.

There was nothing but silence for a long moment, the space between you both filled with his ragged breathing and your shaky gasps. You were so close you could taste him, his forehead pressed against yours and his eyes squeezed shut.

“You’re driving me out of my fucking mind, Sunshine.” Ghost rasped finally, his voice throaty and strained. “You just don’t fucking listen.”

You swallowed thickly, eyes trained on the beast before you. You’d watched this man tear people apart with his bare hands. You’d seen him take bullets to the chest, seen him snap necks and tear limbs.

But those fingers that had wreaked so much havoc rested on your throat softly, now. So gentle, as though he thought you would crumble beneath him if he squeezed.

But he wanted to grip tighter, and you knew it. You could tell by the twitch of his fingers, by the clench of his jaw.

“I can be taught, Sir,” your voice was barely a whisper but Ghost’s eyes snapped open as though you’d yelled at him. He watched you, like a predator observing its prey. You wondered if he thought he’d misheard you, maybe he was praying that he hadn’t.

When he leaned in close, your body shivered against his as adrenaline spiked your system.

“I’ll fuckin’ teach you to listen, Sunshine,” he murmured finally, fingers tightening against your skin. “Don’t you worry.”

Maybe he didn’t hate you, after all.

[whateveriwant]

Idk if you're taking requests, but here I am. Maybe TF 141 with an S/O who has ADHD and when going places, like a mall, for example they'll just completely walk away and they'll just loose their S/O

I took 'reader who is always walking away' and ran with it… ba dum tss (sorry, I had to). Anyway, I hope this is sorta what you were looking for! I was in a Christmas-y mood so all of these are winter/holiday themed!

Price

The park is especially busy for a Friday afternoon. There's children playing in the snow, daring youths having a go on the frozen lake, and families everywhere making memories to last a lifetime.

You've only been sitting on this bench for roughly a quarter of an hour before Price starts to squirm beside you, something clearly making him uncomfortable. Before you can even ask what it is, he's standing from the seat in one brisk motion.

“Be back in a moment, darling,” he grumbles. “The cold makes me need to piss like a stallion.”

As he takes off to find a place to relieve himself, all you can do is laugh and call after him to, “Wash your hands!”

Five minutes and one desecrated tree later, he emerges from the secluded thicket of bushes he found, zipping up his fly discreetly. He makes his way back to the bench you'd been seated at, a bit of a spring to his step… only to deflate once he discovers you’ve disappeared into thin air.

He sighs out loud – a long, drawn-out sound. He could say he's surprised but then he'd be lying. He knows you and your tendency to wander off; this is nothing new to him. Now it's just a matter of finding you again… for the third time this week, he remarks internally.

He would try calling you but he already knows you forgot your phone at home. He's got to get better about reminding you to take it with you whenever you leave the house, especially if he's constantly having to chase after you like you're some sort of loose gerbil.

Thankfully, he sees a set of footprints which he believes to be yours leading away from the bench. So, with no better clues to guide him, he decides to follow after the tracks, hoping they'll lead him right to you.

It's not long into it that he hears a sound in the distance, sort of a low, pleasant humming that grows stronger the closer he gets. It's only a minute or two later when – eureka! – he finds you standing with a small crowd who've gathered to listen to a group of carolers.

Ahh, of course. He should've known. You just can't resist a good live performance. Like a siren calling to you in a storm, one way or another, you'll always find your way to them.

Price easily sidles up next to you, flashing a smile when you briefly turn to take notice of him. His hand finds the small of your back as he joins you in listening, enjoying the festive songs performed by the carolers.

You're standing for a while, attention fully drawn to the singers ahead, when at some point you lean into Price’s ear, your voice lowered to a whisper.

“You washed your hands?” Your question is earnest, if not a little playful.

In response, and with a tone most firm, he declares simply, “...Yep.” Though, the way his hand slips from your back and into his coat pocket reeks of something awfully similar to guilt.

Ghost

You're on your 15th row when you spot it. There, standing not quite two and a half meters tall, perfectly green and dense and conical: your Christmas tree for the year.

An excited squeal leaves your lips and you swiftly run up to the tree to admire its beauty. “This is it! This is the one! Oh, isn't it just perfect?” you say reverently.

“Hold on a minute, love,” Ghost tries to rein you in as he lags a bit further behind. “Isn't that wha' you said about the one a few rows back? Wha' about that one?”

Oh yeah! You forgot all about that tree!

Well, now that he's reminded you, you want to do a little comparison. You tell him to stay put and guard this one while you quickly run back to check out that other one.

Two, five, nearly ten minutes pass and you haven't returned, much to Ghost’s chagrin. He thinks his bollocks must’ve shrunk three sizes by now from how long he's been standing out in this freezing cold.

After a dozen or so minutes, he tries ringing you, just to make sure everything’s alright. When there's no answer on the other end, he tries again, but is met with the same silence that has a streak of alarm bolting up his spine.

Ghost has always been a worrywart when it comes to his loved ones, and that concern only amplifies when it comes to large crowds and even larger spaces.

What's taking so long? Where have you gone? Are you lost? Hurt? Something worse? His mind begins to spiral.

Fuck it, he decides, and abandons the tree in order to seek you out. As he searches, row after row yields nothing but strangers and snow-capped firs. By now he's starting to fully panic, running around like a maniac, drawing the eyes of everyone in the lot as he yells out your name.

When he finally runs into you again – literally runs into you – he's out of breath, his heart pounding, and he grabs your shoulders with his strong hands and nearly shakes you out of your knitted cap.

“Don't scare me like that!” he's more exasperated than angry, and he pulls you into a bone-crushing hug. “Thought somethin’ might've happened to you,” he confesses, holding you to his chest like he thinks you'll evaporate if he lets go.

“M’sorry,” you mumble into the wall of hard muscle. “Got distracted.” The excuse is as weak as your skeleton feels beneath his embrace.

Distracted? What could have possibly distracted you enough that you didn't hear him screaming your name?

You pull back just enough to look at him, a sad curl to your lip that he can tell is forced. “I saw the cutest French bulldog,” you say, and Ghost has the audacity to scoff. “No, really! He was wearing the most adorable little Christmas jumper, and his name was Bark-tholomew. Bark-tholomew!” you stress.

Now that he knows you're safe and sound, Ghost loosens his hold on you, closing his eyes as he feels his pulse begin to slow.

“I asked the owners for a picture. Do you wanna see him?” you add hopefully.

When Ghost opens his eyes again, he's met with that sweet look on your face – that one he's unable to resist. He holds his breath for a beat or two, before letting out a deep, resonating sigh. “...Yeah, alright. Let's see it.”

Soap

It's unsurprising to find the mall jam-packed the week before Christmas, but that doesn't mean Soap isn't still annoyed by the swarm of bodies. But that's what he gets for waiting so long to go holiday shopping. Curse those last-minute deals and his inability to pass them up!

However, rather than wandering aimlessly through the mall, Soap has a game plan for today's spree. He knows exactly what stores he wants to hit, in the order he wants to hit them. And with you following closely behind to help, he's sure it'll be no sweat.

The first shop is easy enough to navigate with you trailing after him – providing your input when he inquires, and holding his items for him once he picks the one he wants. The second shop is much the same and the third even easier.

It's on the way to the fourth where, too caught up in his lists, Soap doesn't notice as you divert from the path, something else much more appealing stealing your attention away. It isn't until he's trying to decide between the last remaining pairs of snowmen or gingerbread men socks that he turns to ask your opinion, only to find you nowhere in sight.

He peers around the store for a second, not spotting you anywhere, before he suddenly feels his phone vibrating in his pocket. Your picture flashes across his screen and when he answers, the first question out of your mouth is, “Where are you?”

Where is he? Where are you? You were supposed to be following him, he not-so-subtly reminds you.

“I'm by the Cinnabon,” you tell him, then make a sound like you're taking a sip of something. “They've got hot chocolate. Giving out free cups of it,” you say, and that has Soap's ears instantly perking up.

Oh. So that's what had you scurrying off in his time of need. Honestly though, he can't say he'd have done any differently if he had caught scent of it like you did.

His movements falter for a beat, slowly lowering both pairs of socks in his hands. “Get me a cup, will ya?”

“Sorry. Can't.”

‘Can't’?! Well, why not?

You inform him that they're only giving out one per person and they seem to be running a pretty tight ship, so it's not like you could sneak another under the radar. And that makes sense, he supposes. They want everyone to have a chance to enjoy some.

“But that's why I called,” you continue. “It looks like they're almost out. So if you want one, you gotta come quick.”

The sudden deadline has Soap's eyes darting down to the themed socks in his hands. If he leaves now, they'll no doubt be snatched up by someone else. But the prospect of a cup of hot chocolate is equally as tempting, if not more so.

After debating with himself for about half a second, he asks, “…Where’d ye say ye were again?” as he places the hangers back on their racks. “By the Cinnabon. Right.” He makes his way to the front of the store, moving as quickly as possible. “Wait there,” he tells you, and once he's out the door, he's running full speed, his shopping bags swinging violently in his hands. “I'm comin’!”

Gaz

The night before Christmas seemed as good a night as any to take a walk around the neighborhood. So once you and Gaz had bundled up all nice and warm, you went for a stroll around the block, heading wherever your feet decided to take you.

Over an hour later, you're both just enjoying the evening – giving cheerful greetings to passing neighbors, turning down unexplored streets as you try to soak in this gorgeous night.

It's as you come up to another fork in the road that Gaz suddenly realizes one of his shoes is untied. He stoops to tie the laces, eyes cast down in his concentration, and as he does, you continue walking ahead, completely unaware that you're leaving him behind.

By the time he's finished and stands up again, you've vanished into the middle of this unfamiliar neighborhood.

Damn it. There you've gone and done it again. He knew he should have invested in one of the backpack leash things you see parents try to wrangle their wayward kids in.

You’d both left your phones at home in order to try to fully immerse yourself in this experience, so now he's forced to go old school when it comes to finding you.

He knows you couldn't have gotten very far; it's only a matter of if you went one way or the other. He picks a direction at random and after walking for a moment, he comes across a passerby whom he asks if they've seen someone matching your description. When they say they haven't, he then doubles back, repeating the process in the opposite direction.

Before long, thankfully, Gaz thinks he spots you stopped in front of a house not too far in the distance. He jogs up to where you're standing, and when he comes within earshot, he jokes, “Need to get you a bell or something, hun.”

Though the joke was lame at best, you don't react to it at all; don't even seem to hear it, honestly, which is likely given how distracted you currently are.

Your focus is entirely drawn to the house before you, your back to the street as you stare up at the brick facade. The house is stunning, absolutely covered top to bottom in all sorts of Christmas lights and decorations. It's by far the best display you've seen all year, and a breath of pure amazement leaves your lips as you take it in.

“Wow…” The word clouds the chilled air with a light puff of smoke. “Isn't it beautiful?” your awe bleeds into your voice, making it gentle, dreamy, like a sweet bell ringing in his ears.

Your tone has Gaz turning to face you, watching how you marvel at the way the lights twinkle and shine. A kaleidoscope of colors reflect off your skin, and an almost angelic glow seems to radiate from within you the longer he looks.

As he admires you, Gaz can't help how a smile slowly overtakes his face. With his eyes still trained on you, he takes your hand with his, and speaks softly, almost in a whisper, “Yeah… beautiful.”

[animeyanderelover]

7k Special!

We did it! Thanks to your support I reached 7,000 followers and as promised, here is the first post with Hc's for some of the Blue Lock characters. If you're wondering how I determined which characters make it onto this list and not, I basically picked the first 10 characters from the result of the 1st popularity poll. The characters are listed according to the results from no.10 to no.1.

Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional mindset, manipulation, clinginess, paranoia, blackmailing, guilt-tripping, intimidation, jealousy, isolation, threats, abduction

Blue Lock Hc's

Ego Jinpachi

⚽​Well, if it isn't the overly confident and egotistical man himself who is solely responsible for creating the entire Blue Lock facility. His entire life revolves around the concept of one's "ego" and to no one's surprise he acts quite self-serving just as much when it involves his obsession with his darling. Born from his desire to have you for himself, he works quite ambitiously towards his goal. It may not look like he is doing much but Ego is the man behind the screen who manipulates everything to gets what he desires. A lot of work is done where you won't know it as you definitely shouldn't underestimate his methodical and cunning nature as this lanky man knows where and when he has to manipulate people. Truth be told, he bears some understanding for the fact that instead of playing 4D chess, he could simply ask you out and court you the normal way but his mind works in a very different space in comparison to other people. Asking only to run the risk of being rejected is what losers do. A true winner ensures that he gets what he wants, no matter what.

⚽​Funnily enough the very man who orchestrates all those calculated schemes to trap you where he wants he wants you to be is arguably one of the most awkward individuals as soon as you are within proximity. Conjuring up plans and manipulating others is a piece of cake but it has to be admitted, Ego is not exactly familiar with the concept of romance and relationships and his already eccentric character only makes everything worse. He has a very terrible tick of just staring at you with those dark orbs of his for minutes without even uttering a word and it freaks you out, especially since he doesn't even blink at all. What unsettles you visibly on him doesn't bother him too much though, though he obviously notes how you are always skittish around him. He's sure that he can work on that though so that you stop being so visibly tense around him. How is he supposed to enjoy his price after all when they are constantly acting so troublesome? Looks like his work isn't over yet after all...

⚽​Do you enjoy being verbally degraded? Do you enjoy watching others being verbally degraded? If your answer to both of these questions is 'no', the best advice would be to avoid eliciting Ego's jealousy. Admittedly, it is difficult to read him as his facial expression and overall behavior doesn't give away his emotions unless he is gloating and taunting others so perhaps by the time you notice, it is already far too late. It is commonly known that Ego never coddles people and not even you get such special treatment from him. Shouldn't you know better than hanging around other people and basking in their attention? Are you that pathetic? No excuses in the world will do it for him because even if you try to explain that the other person started it first or that you and them are only friends, no excuse in the world will cut it for him. Then he'll either argue that even if they did start it first, you could have done more instead of submissively resigning yourself and if they are merely a friend of yours according to your claims, he will mock you for your ignorance as you clearly don't seem to understand their true intentions.

⚽​It is not in his style to unalive people and honestly, he might very well believe that for some death is a far too merciful way. Crushing someone's hope and dream is much more within his league and he is terrifyingly good in it. He is a master planner who can quickly assess people and their strengths and weaknesses and what has been working with his unpolished players and you will work with anyone else who he dislikes. Yes, you have read that right. There is no grand moral compass that determines when someone gets on his list. Instead he makes such decisions based on how much he can stand someone or not. He loathes people who put in neither the work nor the effort and just resign themselves to their fate and you are guaranteed to lose more than one person in your life because he removes such people from your life. His words are unforgiving and harsh as he humiliates anyone he doesn't like with no shame or restraint, even if that person should be someone you are extremely close to. There is little to no sympathy you can expect from him when you are busily grieving later on as a weak-willed person doesn't have any value in your life. It's time for you to realise that.

⚽​Despite what you may think of him after everything he has dragged you through, Ego is suspiciously lax when it comes to the topic of living together or not. That mainly derives from the knowledge that at this point he has already control over your life to the extent where he doesn't need to concern himself with any fear that you may escape his grasp again. By all accounts, he might even prefer for you to continue living in your own house as his own living conditions are...lacking, to say the least. Everything actually turns out the complete opposite as he instead starts popping up all the time in front of your door and nestles himself down in your own home confidently as if he owns the place. It is a true hassle to live with him as he litters the place with cups of ramen and packages from all the fast food he consumes and expects you to clean it up. There have been a couple of times where you have tried to throw him out and assert dominance yet those moods of yours are quickly shot down when he gives you an unimpressed look and reminds you of all the stuff he knows about you that you wouldn't want others to know about you.

⚽​The one time you tried to be considerate and actually prepare him a meal that is healthy, he looked at you blankly for a couple of seconds before dumping it all on your plate and instead preparing himself a cup of yakisoba. In hindsight you're more surprised that he didn't throw it straight into the rubbish bin because you would fully expect him to do something like this. Life with him is exhausting and tiring but above all it is strange, annoying and awkward. No one exactly knows if you two are an official couple or not and truth be told, not even you know it. Ego never bothers to update anyone about it either and you can't tell if he simply decides to not bother to tell those who aren't smart enough to figure it out themselves or truly doesn't care about what others think about you two as long as they understand to stay away from you. Such a freaking faultfinder as he always finds something he nit-picks about and tells you that you could do better yet you are sure if you would leave him in charge of any chores, he would either not do them or break something in the process.

Mikage Reo

💴​Reo is in an interesting position because he was born as the heir of the Mikage Corporation. Throughout his entire life, everything he has ever wanted was immediately served to him on a silver plate and as a result he is incredibly sated when it comes to receiving gifts and presents. Options are far and wide to get whatever he desires, even you. It is precisely because of this fact that Reo chooses to not flaunt his wealth and his money in your face as he instead yearns to win you over all by himself without having to rely on the influence he possesses. Two things that you will notice pretty early on are that he is obsessive and rather clingy. There is after all more behind him than just an attractive face and enough money to buy your entire street. Reo is multi-talented and sharp-witted and those are skills he relies on as he tries to win your heart over. There is so much diligence, perhaps bordering even on overzeal, as he actually creates a notebook solely for you where he writes down every single day everything that he has been able to notice and deduce by watching you.

💴​It gets increasingly hard to avoid the purple-haired male as time passes on and he gets to know more and more about you. Whilst he is not showering you just yet with the most expensive gifts in the world, the impulse to buy something he knows you like gets strong the more he gets to know your likes and your dislikes. It isn't uncommon for him to buy you once or twice food or other small presents he knows you either enjoy or need right now. Eager for attention and approval from you to be able to tell himself that he can get what he wants even without his wealth, Reo constantly seeks you out and attempts to show off in order to impress you. His grades are excellent and he surpasses other people easily in most other areas just as much and if you have a certain hobby you value, he will claim that for himself too in hopes of getting closer to you. Even if you should show signs of discomfort around him, Reo carries on as he is partially delusional. Deep down he is after all still the spoiled boy who thinks that he can get whatever he wants. Surely you just need some time to become acquainted with him before you will finally give him a chance.

💴​He is normally the one surrounded by people all vying for his attention. Whether it is because of his charismatic and attractive demeanor or because of his money, Reo is usually the one who gets showered in all the attention that he doesn't desire. Perhaps for the first time he experiences what it is like to be depraved of something he wants despite it being so close that he could just grab it. Jealousy is something Reo is not familiar with as there has never been the need of him to feel jealous about anything in his life before. The green-eyed monster awakens within him easily though, perhaps he has never felt those feelings before and for that has no resilience against it. Reo gets surprisingly jittery every time he's hit full force with jealousy and even if he attempts to hide it, his high emotionality makes him rather vulnerable to react aggressive and rude if things do not go the way he envisions them to go. He's left upset after every such ordeal, partially even with you, though he continues to cling to you despite those feelings.

💴​He vows to win you over without using his wealth and power yet that is not true and Reo knows about that himself. It is a shameful secret of his that he in fact has used the influence he has to remove certain people from your life who got the better of him and made him paranoid that he would ultimately lose you despite his best efforts. All the confidence he shows is ultimately nothing but hot air after all as it evaporates the moment things do not bow to his whims. Some people who you love the most in your life do not have anything in comparison to him yet they still are allowed to be such a grand part of your life. Why is that? What can he do better? He has analysed and observed only to not find out the secret behind said person and it is then that taunts and words from that same person can get through him easily, especially since he tends to seek them out and question them since his inability to comprehend what he is doing wrong is torturing him. Even if he catapults them out of your life though, he is painfully aware that he has still lost to them in the bigger picture. He'll do better from now on though! He has to...

💴​There is one singular moment that will drastically change everything within your relationship forever and that is the day when Reo snaps. Indirectly he has always been manipulating things by getting rid of certain people who were in his way but he has never directly blackmailed you. All that changes though when he eventually realises that he will never be enough for you. You do not love him after all, something Nagi has been telling him for months already. How...? Why...? Can you not see how much he loves you? Do you not realise what he has done for you? Something fundamentally just shatters somewhere in his heart in that moment as his already highly emotional personality experiences a breakdown. He cries, he screams, he throws things around and hyperventilates for painful minutes until he partially calms down. He pured so much effort into this all yet it was all for nothing in the end. Whatever then. If that is how it is, he'll just use whatever is necessary to have you. A tiny, delusional part of him crawls into his brain like a parasyte. Perhaps this is the push you need to finally fully love him?

💴​You experience the full brunt of just how rich this boy is only after both of you are in an official relationship. You've always caught glimpses of his wealth on special occasions like Valtenine's Day or your birthday but it is only after you two are a couple that he opens the gates and floods you with his money and gifts. Whatever you want will be yours as long as it doesn't involve breaking up with him. Reo's possessive attitude turns up especially once he has you as he sees little to no reason to share you with other people after that. He has fought for you and now he has you, even if he should have cheated in the process. Such possessive attachment makes him quite overbearing though as he is as needy as he is clingy. With all of the money and the wealth he lavishes you with, he expects your affection and love in return and only gets antsy when you do not give it to him. Whether you know how to keep him happy or not is most likely a key factor in determining just how good this relationship will be as Reo feels emotions with full force and acts on them accordingly.

Teieri Anri

🔴​Anri is a woman who is passionate about the things she believes in and not afraid to speak what is on her mind if it is needed. She is an ardent believer of the Blue Lock project and is together with Ego the driving force behind everything. A woman as determined and stubborn as this can't help her flustered shyness when she is around her obsession though and no one is more embarrassed about that than Anri herself. If she ever thought that being lucid about her feelings would help her, even if just a little, she is certainly mistaken as she finds out soon enough. Essentially used to keeping data on every player in the project and keeping files on them, there is a somewhat creepy sense of order even amongst her feelings though as she actually notes down certain things she deems as neccessary. Important information such as potential allergies, events of your past or the stuff you love and despise are all often scribbled down in uncontrolled bursts of passion or typed away on her phone. Even if she realises later on what she has done and throws away the pieces of paper or deletes the files, the information is now in her brain.

🔴​You'd be mistaken to ridicule her down to only an attractive woman though as Anri is quite persuasive if she can be. She already has experience with the sleezers in the Football Association and managed to talk them into starting the Blue Lock project in the first place so she has undeniable stubbornness as well as skills to convince people into giving something a chance. Business can easily be applied to her daily life as well as she could use the same skills she has attained in her job around you. Those skills of hers are actually used around you but that is often done more unconsciously than anything, though her stubborn attitude remains the same. What is done unconsciously around you is used on purpose when she is faced with people you are close to who remind her a bit too much about the old men in which case she will utilise the knowledge from her experiences and her skills to convince someone if they should disapprove of her feelings for you.

🔴Despite her ability to admit very openly what is on her mind, she is less prone to react overly jealous. At least being professional as well as lucid has some perks to it as she can keep her own temper better under control if she ever feels the envy gnawing on her heart. There is this small habit of hers to observe the other person for a couple of minutes, though in a normal way if I were to compare it to the stares of someone like Ego. She even chooses to actively engage in conversations and interactions with the other person, even if she has the hidden motive to find out more about them due to her jealous feelings. Depending on how far eveolved the relationship between the two of you is already at that point in time, Anri will either just straight-up tell them that she is your girlfriend or she will come up on the spot with something that the both of you need to do. Usually she maintains the professional and polite attitude though as she would feel a smidge too embarrassed to be obvious about her jealous intentions.

🔴​Anri provides the most normal relationship of all even with her bad habit to create files detailing information about you. This penchant of noting everything important down and keeping it safely stored somewhere is pretty much the same concept if we're talking about how she deals with the people in your life that need to be gone. Anri is from everyone in Blue Lock the least likely to consider something as extreme as this but that doesn't mean that she will slack off if the need ever arises. In fact she is all about the efficient work if it ever gets this far. Everything is written down about the threat and she will be especially focused on the stuff that can be used against them later on. She extracts information from every available source and she can do so rather well as she knows how to use her words to convince people to tell her more. She will blackmail them later on if they do not listen to her warning and if she finds a blind spot, she might even twist information to a certain degree where it is still believable but would definitely stain someone's reputation.

🔴​Least likely to abduct you. It is not only because of her small build if we were to compare her to all the men she is surrounded by but also because she still holds on to her pride despite her already somewhat obsessive feelings for you. There is no question about the fact that Anri wants to move in and live together with you at one point but then she wants the decision to be mutual between the both of you. Until that happens though, she also has other things that she wants to fulfill before that. She wants to see it through that Japan wins the World Cup and currently she is already very busy basically playing the baby sitter for Ego which devours a lot of her time. After her first dream is fulfilled and she isn't stuck with Ego anymore, she vows to fulfill her other dream of living together with you. Preparations have to be done then though as she needs to buy a bigger place for the both of you then and she definitely has to improve in her home economics so that you won't be stuck with all of the work.

🔴​Her awareness normally always helps her to retain her polite and professional attitude but sometimes she tends to get lost in her thoughts and that is when her more obsessive side tends to show up. Most inconvenient, especially since she usually needs a while to snap out of it and until that happens she is basically muttering down every piece of information about you as she recalls the file she has created about you. That is probably how she accidentally let Ego know of your existence and she has never lived down the embarrassment of it, although the lanky man seems fairly uninterested in you. She should be happy about his disinterest but a part of her can't help but be slightly mad for his lack of interest in you because it is you! Not gonna lie, Anri is probably as healthy as you can get with a relationship in Blue Lock. Admittedly, not hard since every other option involves a football maniac. Let's just pray that all of the ego talk doesn't rub off badly on her.

Kunigami Rensuke

🦸‍♂️Kunigami is a rather moral person even if he is still participating in Blue Lock to become the world's best striker which is why he tends to be more bearable with his obsessive tendencies. Normally a person who is more serious and calm in comparison to other players, perhaps it should not be a surprise that he harbors a deeper awareness for what his feelings truly are. His initial way of dealing with them is just bur​ying everything about his obsession, a flaming feeling of shame apparent in his soul as it contrasts with his morals as well as his wish to be later also seen as a football hero and inspire the ext generation of players. To give him some credit, it does work for a while as he manages to even act fairly normal around you, though you are probably also the person who manages to make him flustered the easiest from all. All good things must eventually end though and it is most likely that a trigger such as intense jealousy or protectiveness is ultimately what makes him realise that he can't snuff those emotions out anymore.

🦸‍♂️​As soon as he has come to terms with that realisation though, it is almost like there is a switch activated within him as he now actively woos you instead. Rensuke has always been passionate about the things he is striving for and now he strives for a relationship with you. A tinge of possessiveness is probably a coherent trait for everyone within Blue Lock but he manages to handle his ego better than some other guys who don't even bother. The most apparent thing that defies him is his protectiveness that sometimes can border on overprotectiveness. There is a small fantasy he harbors as he kind of wishes that he can be your personal hero which always saves your day when you find yourself in peril and it is a small motivation which tends to urge him to blow things a bit out of proportion. Kunigami is capable of restraining himself in his behavior though and still remains capable to feel shame and guilt about his actions if he were to end up acting on impulse without thinking something through.

🦸‍♂️​The sensation of the green-eyed monster creeping up on him is always a good way of drawing out the possessive part of his which is under normal circumstances always kept on a controlled leash. Whether this is an established relationship or not, once Kunigami has finally decided within his heart that he wants you, he will get you. No one else will be allowed to court you or ask you out and he is going to make sure of that. His height and his muscular build already make him somewhat of a monster and he is aware of the intimidation people feel when he does as much as tower over them. He'd be lying if he were to say that he doesn't take advantage of that from time to time. Aware when you are watching though, he keeps up his cool and serious attitude as he just tells someone to piss off with a darkened look in his eyes. It's probably once he is sure that you aren't within sight that he gets more rude and scary if someone can't seem to comprehend even a simple warning.

🦸‍♂️​You'd rather not get punched or kicked from someone of his height and strength. That would be pretty painful and not nice to look at afterwards which is why Rensuke sees it through that you never witness violence. This is one aspect he initially finds himself struggling with. He's always been about fair fights and whilst competition is to a certain degree acceptable, violence has never been something he indulged in to get his way. His lucid state of mind can do more harm than good in such situations as the guilt is a weight he finds himself unable to shake off which is why he ends up coming up with feeble justifications. Do not misunderstand, he feels zero remorse if he punches someone because his protectiveness was triggered as he he thinks of people who threaten or harm you as scum. It's when he has to acknowledge that someone is a good person in itself and his actions are a result of jealousy and possessiveness that he finds himself struggling to come up with excuses, though he finds himself failing every time.

🦸‍♂️​Hurting people physically and covering all incidents up is one thing that is a heavy load on his shoulders but that he finds himself eventually living with somehow. A weight far heavier that never stops dragging his heart down into the mud is the topic of abduction. Chances of abduction are lower with Kunigami in comparison to some other guys within the facility but it isn't out of question if the right buttons are pushed for him. The most likely trigger to coerce him to kidnap you would probably be his overprotective tendency, though it doesn't have to be. If he were to kidnap you out of concern for your health though, it would probably still be easier to stomach than to realise that he has done it because he has given in to his egoistic feelings. The shame is almost too much for the first few day and the knowledge that you will probably never see him as the hero he wants you to see him is a thought constantly racing through his mind to remind him of his failure. There will probably always be a slice of guilt present even after time passes that will catch up to him in a quiet moment.

🦸‍♂️​Whilst he normally isn't one who flaunts his skills around carelessly, he can't deny that he likes showing off. Even in the scenario where you should be taller than him, he would still insist on giving you a piggyback to show off his strength. If you are smaller and weaker than him, he ends up subconsciously babying you a bit by always insisting to open cans for you or grabbing something for you that is out of your reach even if you didn't ask for it. Rensuke is admittedly not the best at handling compliments and ironically enough you could smother him with kisses and touches and he would fare better than if you were to give him a few compliments which always heat his cheeks up faster. I think I read somewhere that he has a thing for the nape of the neck so you can count on it that he will constantly place kisses on there multiple times throughout the day. He doesn't mind introducing you to other guys from the facility though he is probably also not going to let you stray away more than an arm's length precisely because he is familiar with some of their antics.

Itoshi Rin

🩵​Rin is someone who only acknowledges someone's presence if they have an ability on the soccer field that actually proves to be a challenge to his own play. So imagine his surprise when he realises that you, someone who should have by all accounts nothing remarkable on you for him to recognise, are one of the few people he actually remembers and acknowledges. He doesn't understand why his eyes always instinctively gravitate to you when you are around him, teal orbs unable to move away from you as he stares at you until you notice or someone else points it out and throws him out of his train of thoughts. You confuse him, your presence prominent in his mind even when you are nowhere in sight and he finds himself growing frustrated as he can't pinpoint the reason for his interest in you despite you not even being a part of Blue Lock. Interestingly enough Rin doesn't try to avoid you. Unbeknown to himself he ends up only fueling his obsession as he actively seeks you out, restless as he grasps as nothing when trying to understand why you are on his mind so often. You... What is it about you that justifies your large presence in his thoughts?

🩵​The times where you turned around somewhere and found him standing right behind you for god knows how long are numerous and even if you have begged him to announce his presence, he has never done so. It's almost as if he is expecting you to notice him all by yourself. Rin is often finding himself around you when he has the time to do so and you have actually not even caught him every time he decided to follow you, only when you were talking to someone and he felt a funny feeling in his chest. Well, it isn't like he seems to care about the fact that he is basically stalking you as he only focuses on his own wants. And what he wants is figuring out what the heck you are doing to have him this captivated. His stoic face is honestly quite good at hiding what is going on inside his head because Rin is so obsessed to the point where it is bordering on the lines of funny yet pathetic. At the most random times his mind just drifts into a completely different direction as he recalls moments of you where he thought that you were being cute or where you were unintentionally being hot and he replays that scene over and over again until his heart is racing against his chest and a faint blush is on his face.

🩵​With a typical possessive streak possessed by most people in Blue Lock, Rin is not the exception. Whilst he does require some time to even acknowledge the fact that he is feeling that way about you, he has never hesitated to act on it whenever someone got too close to you for his own like. He's always towering over that person, teal eyes glowing as his gaze rests on them with his typical icy expression. His words are not any less blunt and cold and he doesn't care for even your pleas to stop as he verbally degrades that person even if they should be a close friend of yours. You're never left alone after such incidents happen as Rin feels almost queasy to just go his separate way after scaring someone away, ever so slightly paranoid that it could happen again as soon as he turns his back to you. At one point he even demands from you to keep your distance from others to ease his own anxiety and fulfill his wish, either unaware or indifferent to the fact that he is starting to act too controlling.

🩵​You'll find out that the longer he spends time thinking about you and being around you, the more control he will desire to have over you and your life. Rin has never shied away from bluntly telling you about his thoughts and his desires and this becomes especially apparent when it involves the people you keep around you. He demands to be your priority and the moment he thinks that that spot is being threatened by someone else, he tells you to stop hanging around them. The only exception he seems to make for now includes siblings and close family but he has no such consideration when he wants you to cut ties with friends you have known for years. If you refuse to do as he says, he takes things into his own hands. From humiliating and insulting your friends with harsh words to relying on manipulation as he lies to them as he tells them things you supposedly say behind their back to strain the relationship, never once does Rin stop to consider that what he is currently doing is nothing short of cruel and terrible.

🩵​If you are someone who has their own head and won't just comply with everything he tells you to do, quite obviously the two of you will clash. Rin is all about manipulating people and making them act like he wants them to even if they are unaware of it. It's always a sensation akin to having a bucket of cold water poured over his head when something doesn't go the way he intends it to go. He grows especially annoyed if you continue your stubbornness even if he has told you to do something multiple times before. Is it really that difficult for you to do as he says? He starts belittling you, his bored tone almost hiding the slice of simmering frustration he harbors for your thick head. He wouldn't use physical violence against you for an abduction though. Not only because he isn't keen on acting like a brute but also because he knows that he can do better than that. He will do better than that. Cue for his manipulative streak to get to work again as he goes a different path to give you a bit more convincing reasons to stay by his side.

🩵​Rin is low-key a creep but he gets away with it because no one who looks at his serious face would ever expect him to be one. It eventually is revealed though, not only to you but also to his teammates in Blue Lock. As soon as someone mentions your name in a conversation,he goes off. If someone says something he knows to be wrong he is swift to correct them and if someone does actually know something about you, especially if it is something he didn't know, he for some reason feels the need to prove that he still knows more about you. It always ends with him holding entire monologues about everything he knows about you and he says all of that with the most stoic face ever whilst the people around him give him a funny look. Very explicit thoughts and images intrude his mind in moments he least predicts them to and the more he tries to push them away, the more detailed they go on until his fantasies transform into physical signs that will give away what he is feeling at the moment. Secretively he is actually more nervous around you than he lets on and that has manifested itself into a terrible tendency of overthinking everything.

Barou Shoei

🦁​If there is one thing that should be crystal clear to anyone as well as yourself in regards of Barou then it is that he is a guy who is excessively possessive. He doesn't share the ball when he is on court and strives to steal it back when someone does take it from him and this mindset can be translated to the way he considers things to work with his darling. Through that thick layer of possessive feelings still exists a deeply rooted awareness though about the nature of his feelings. As much of an egoist as Barou is, he is actually quite lucid about his feelings but has deemed them to simply be something that he won't care about. He pursues always what he wants and desires and this is the mindset that he stays in even when he falls in love with you. He wants you and he will get you and if some goody-two-shoes tries to get in his way because they think that he needs to br reminded that his feelings are bad he will crush them. As if he'd listen to someone with such a loser mindset.

🦁​Two other traits that stand out with Shoei can be pinpointed back to his perfecfectionistic personality, namely his obsessive fixation as well as his penchant to always have control of his surroundings as well as the people in it. He has a similar obsession to be in control with your environment and your life just as much. His rude and rough appearance may give off the impression that he would be neglectful when in fact Barou actually remembers a great deal about you if you tell him or if he finds it out through other ways. He remembers and that effort alone should already make him more deserving to hang out with you and claim your time than some of the other weaklings you instead choose to hang out with. Do they know after all the stuff that he knows of you? They certainly do not when he corners them and taunts them, though perhaps that is because the fear is messing with their brain when he towers over them with a menacing gleam in his eyes and a scowl on his face.

🦁​As someone who calls himself the "King" Barou still thinks of himself as better and stronger than most people as he will only begrudgingly pay respect if someone steals his spotlight and forces him to give up his way of playing. Your friends do not fulfill that criteria. Jealousy is not an emotion he is prone to feel as it is instead his possessive instinct acting up whenever you spend time with someone who isn't him. He dislikes the aspect of not having control of his environment and his life and you are already included as part of his life which is why this shouldn't happen. His appearance alone is already enough to make the average person shrink a few inches as soon as he storms over, his words condescending and mean as he stares down at them as if they are nothing but a slimy worm under the heel of his shoes. He doesn't take orders, not from you nor from anyone else. If he needs to remind everyone else and even you that you belong to him, he will do so until the message is understood.

🦁​His mere appearance and vibe alone is already deadly intimidating and for that enough to make people think twice when they see you in public with him accompanying you. You are someone that Barou treasures, someone that belongs to him. He'd hate for someone to think that they can just casually do what they want with you without paying a high price for it. As possessive as Barou is, he is just as much protected and if someone messes with you or is even the slightest inconvenience to you he is ready to charge at any time. He is a physical beast and even worst is that he is petty to anyone who has wronged you or made one wrong comment about you. You belong to him, you are someone he feels proud to have as his own so anything negative directed at you is indirectly an insult to his own ego and he will not stand still until that specific person who just had to get cocky has learned their lesson. Do not try to hold him back and do not even consider forgiving them. Even if you should, it wouldn't mean shit because he won't forgive them.

🦁​As a certified control freak you have the argument coming one way or another. He always needs to supervise his environment or else he will get irritated so the lack of supervision he has of you as long as you live more independently is something that becomes the biggest source of frustration. Despite what you may think though he is not just randomly abducting you. Barou has insane expectations for himself and works tirelessly to fulfill them. You won't just be thrown into a small and messy room. No, instead he cleans the entire place up and rearranges and even buys furniture and other stuff merely because he knows that you have it in your own home and enjoy it. First comes tidying the place up and only after that is done comes the abduction. Physically it is pretty easy for him to overpower you but he probably tries to knock you out beforehand since he fears that he may accidentally hurt you and frighten you even more if you squirm around too much.

🦁​In the strangest turn of events you find yourself surrounded by the man with the most aggressive househusband material ever. You fear aggressive screaming and domestic abuse for a while only to find him chastising you because you didn't clean your room properly and find him cleaning the mirror in the bathroom simply because dried splashes of water or toothpaste weren't cleaned properly. He does your laundry, your dishes and at one point you just find yourself sitting on the couch as he cleans everything himself because you never do it right. The refrigerator is always filled with all sorts of food and your sanitary products are always stocked in cupboards available for you which is why your initial fear gradually turns into flabbergasted confusion as you did not expect a man with an appearance as scary as Barou's to be so finicky when it comes to hygiene and cleanliness. You discover quickly that he is tame and relaxed as long as it is only the two of you and you behave yourself relatively but quickly turns into a lion who bares his teeth as soon as there are other people around you.

Chigiri Hyoma

🦵​Chigiri can be a bit of a wild card as he tends to be moody and rather intense at times without any warning given beforehand which is why he is volatile, the worst thing someone harboring an obsession can have. It's not something he can necessarily fully control but that is mainly because initially he isn't even aware of the actual depth of his feelings that he has for you. He only has an inkling that he likes you and is self-assured enough to approach you in an attempt to get to know you better. He's easygoing yet a tad bit sassy, to the people around you more than he is to you but still, you quite like him. One of the earliest problems you have though is the fact that Chigiri cannot seem to leave you alone. He always follows you as soon as he spots you and sometimes you get almost a heart attack when you randomly turned around only to stare into his pink eyes only a few feet away from you. The look in his eyes is rather intense in such moments as if he was a red panther stalking his prey.

🦵​It is only after he snapped for the first time that he finally starts rethinking how he actually feels about you and that is when he finally seems to understands that his feelings go well beyond simply liking you. He loves you. It's that realisation that truly brings his obsessive character to light though as Chigiri remains delusional though. He does love you perhaps more than other people would and he would definitely be willing to do some things to ensure that you stay... But isn't that ultimately just a sign of his adoration and devotion? He's convinced that you will find no one who could love you and adore you as much as he does and it is this thought that makes him suddenly very active. You would make a grave mistake by not choosing him and he'd like to help you to avoid that mistake. Sometimes people have to do wrong things for the right reasons which is how he excuses his frequent guilt-tripping as well as his manipulative behavior. The knowledge of his love for you does bring the disadvantage that his grip on his moody behavior turns more unstable.

🦵​There is nothing that would expose his volatile mood to you more than his own jealousy. There may be certain triggers that set him off quicker but even if you avoid all of them you still haven't dodged the bullet. Worst of all is that it is so easy to get fooled by his initial facade. He appears so amicable at first even if he already shoots some sassy remarks out. It always happens so suddenly as the gleam in his eyes suddenly grows intense and he falls quiet, stepping back and isolating himself from the interaction all whilst pink eyes seem to stare into your soul as well as the people you are currently engaging with. He keeps out of the conversation for the entire rest until his eyes suddenly focus on the ground and he makes himself small and almost pitiful, forcing your attention back to him as you start worrying what is wrong and find yourself interrupting your conversation to ask what is wrong with him. He only gives you a lopsided grin every time and tells you to just return to your friends and forget about him, the sliver of resentment just about audible in his voice.

🦵​He is a victim. That is at least the way he always makes himself look like. It is as scary as it is admirable how easily lies fall from his lips as raindrops from the cloud and the worst part about it all is that he always speaks with such conviction and confidence as if his words were nothing but the unfiltered truth. Rumors arise as he skillfully starts gossiping and nudges things here and there to see it through that such talk escalates and soon frames a person who is not even guilty unless getting on his nerves would count as a crime. Chigiri has little to no qualms to crush people who anger and annoy him and he is an especially sensitive person when the people are too much involved with you. There is not even a distinction made between the people who are genuinely bad to you or the people he perceives as rivals and threats. The end result is going to be the same and there is nothing they can can do against it as it is hard to see the beginning and the end of the rumors and lies at one point as Chigiri uses tension to stir the conflicts and arguments.

🦵​You can't recall that he ever brought up the topic of moving in which is why you are so surprised when he one day spontaneously mentions the idea to you. You may still think that it is a bit too early to consider such a big decision but you are left quite stunned and surprised when Hyoma suddenly starts acting miffed and claims that you told him otherwise the last time. What does he mean with last time? You're pretty sure that this is the first time you have heard him talking with you about this topic. Both of you get into an argument but you find your own confidence wavering a bit due to the confidence in his voice. Is it possible that you forgot that he asked you before? Just as Chigiri notices the slight hesitation in your eyes he sees the chance to use your crumbling confidence to his advantage. He switches his facade to a bitter and resentful appearance, turns away from you and talks in a hurt tone that he understands the message. You don't want to live with him anymore. He storms away, just fast enough for you to be barely able to catch up and he has to bite his tongue to hide the victorious grin when he hears you calling after him.

🦵​You do not know when it happened but the web of lies at one point gets hard to navigate through as you as well as other people get trapped in it and fights and arguments ensure left and right. It is quite heart-breaking as bonds shatter under the weight of accusations and lies. Hyoma stays with you and comforts you through it whilst subtly suggesting that if you relationship with them wasn't strong enough to survive this than perhaps you weren't as important to them and vice versa as you thought. He attempts to help you to forget about them as he visits you a lot, wanting to fill your time and your mind with only him. You snap at him accidentally one time due to your anger only to regret it severely afterwards as he immediately sets off without any warning. He accuses you of not appreciating him even with all that he has done for you, even sheds some tears until you hastily calm him down, apologise and reassure him that he means a lot to you. You're the only person allowed to touch and play with his hair and he even seeks your time and attention as he comes without a doubt every morning to you and asks you to brush his hair.

Bachira Meguru

💛​Bachira's eccentric personality is what makes him scary and even more unpredictable than Chigiri. He's crazy for real and that is the impression he gives you from the very start. The interest in you is there almost upon first glance as something about you just seems to intrigue the young man and with no concept of boundaries he instantly seeks you out and follows you around. He bothers you and gets in your way all because he wants to find out more about you and wants to get closer to you. His clingy behavior is fueled by two main factors. One of them is a fear to be left alone, a familiar fear that has been installed into him ever since other children started avoiding him due to his unique personality. The other one is his rapidly evolving obsession that desires to always stay with you and have your attention. The rapid decrease in respect of privacy turns gradually worse as he isn't afraid to touch you, hug you or even kiss you despite your clarification that the two of you are not a thing. Bachira doesn't seem to listen to you as he continues anyways and so seemingly especially much when there are people around.

💛​There is a clear lack of consideration and worries he shows in regards to your own feelings. He has always shown his optimism and enthusiasm and those are the characteristics that end up being solely responsible for his damaging delusional streak. He is confident that you will eventually realise your own feelings for him and will then forgive him anyways for all of his clinginess and the anger he has caused you to feel. It is because of this that you should avoid under all means necessary showing him too much consideration and kindness as this will quickly be something he mistakes for your own growing feelings for him. If stuff of yours goes missing, Meguru should be your first and only suspect. He's sulking the moment he can't see you and to mend his longing for you until he sees you again he needs something to cheer himself up with. What could be better than something that belongs to you? The worst of it all is that he is not ashamed of admitting it to you if you were to ask him as he hands whatever he has stolen from you back to you right after with a big grin, thanking you for lending it to him and that he doesn't need it anymore now that you are here.

💛​One minute. That is sometimes all that you are begging him to give you yet Bachira is unable to stand still and remain silent as soon as your attention is not on him. It's like there is a terrible itch within him as soon as he sees how your whole focus is on someone that isn't him and he instantly feels the urge to fix that. It just doesn't feel right when your eyes aren't on him. He is already pouting by the time he pushes the other people away so that he is in your field of vision, whinging about how much he hates it when you aren't focused on him and that he wants to do something with you. He completely ignores anyone else but you and pretends as if they don't exist. At least until the very person he has been ignoring up until now suddenly has to interfere again which is when he finally turns his attention to them. A lopsided grin is on his face, a bright gleam in his eyes which does not fit the condescending insults leaving his lips all of a sudden. He must be the most cheerful bully to ever exist as he does not let loose until they are gone as not even you are unable to stop him.

💛​As time passes he only seems to prove to you more and more that he is indeed a cheerful bully who won't stop until someone has completely disappeared from his sight. Anyone who may threaten to steal you away from him is perceived as a threat from his side and everyone will undergo equal treatment of bullying. What makes it all so terrifying is the fact that Bachira never loses that smile of his even if he bluntly threatens someone and it is when you witness this the first time that you finally confirm that he is indeed batshit crazy. If you ignore his warnings or the other person ignores his warnings and he still finds them spending time with you, he gets a lot more malicious with his actions. He pushes them around, trips them up, pours his drinks over them and does every other petty action the heaven knows about until the other person is fed up and finally starts avoiding you. He doesn't even hide his elation he feels as soon as they are finally out of the picture.

💛​We're talking about someone who has almost tried to break into your house a couple of times before, jolting at the doorknob all whilst requesting cheerfully to be let inside because he's missing you. If Bachira would have it his way the both of you would already live together and share a bed with you. He can envision it all so well after all and in his mind it would be nothing short of bliss for the both of you. You do not seem to think the same way though and it confuses and upsets him greatly. He's constantly pestering you about it, wanting to know why you object so profoundly to the idea of living together with him. As if trying to convince you that there would only be benefits he suddenly buys you lots of little gifts and presents which you all reject or instantly send back to him. By now you know better than to encourage his delusional behavior. What you did not see coming though is his emotional breakdown as his optimism crumbles for a while and you are left with him bawling like a small child, contrasting the tight grip he has on you as he begs and pleads for you to just stop being so stubborn. He knows you love him. You just need to give him the chance to help you to realise that.

💛​Sometimes it appears like he can't survive without your attention and coupled with his shamelessness you are in for one exhausting time. He has sat down on your lap at times when you were busy with something else, a pout on his lips and his arms wrapped around your neck as he tried to get your attention back on him. Completely fine walking around naked and unashamed to walk in whilst you are naked as well. You will know no peace during the day as Meguru will always preoccupy you and claim all of your time for himself. He drags you around outside for fun dates, has one idea he wants to do before deciding on the way to the location that he wants to do something else and then walks all the way back. Wants you to wear your clothes and wears yours as well, doesn't matter if you should be smaller than him or bigger than him. He's literally like a leech that is persistently clinging to you and sucks you dry of all the attention you can give him, only that he never separates from you as he smothers you in affection.

Nagi Seishiro

🤍​Nagi is probably going to be a unique case since he is someone who doesn't like bothering with things to the point where he doesn't even want to think about them if it's too much of a hassle for him. This lack of motivation is going to bite him back later though. Your presence is unavoidable as you even seem to occupy his mind when he isn't physically anywhere near you. You're there when he watches videos on his phone, when he plays a game or reads manga online. It is a steadily expanding presence you claim in his head and one he can't flee from no matter what. Far too bothersome is what it is though as his mind doesn't want to shut up about you and he can't properly relax due to it. He'd be lying if he were to say that it doesn't annoy him and whilst he wouldn't openly start a fight with you as it would require too much effort, he does antagonise you silently from a distance as you disturb his peace. At least he thinks that this is what he is doing when he always stares at you from the distance or even occasionally bothers to trail lazily behind you.

🤍​The feeling of loss is what is needed to finally motivate him to become more active. An indescribable feeling of frustration and loss is what forces him to do the unthinkable and actually think more about how he truly feels about you. He doesn't like seeing you being so cozy and comfortable around other people. He doesn't like others approaching you with a stupid grin on their face. He likes watching you... He loves you. Nagi stops thinking more about it as soon as he has arrived at this conclusion because he sees no more need to give his feelings more thoughts than this. He loves you and there is nothing more to it and it is this mindset that never allows him to ever realise that his feelings aren't exactly considered the norm. Now that he knows that he loves you though he becomes instantly clingy and possessive. It would be such a bother to properly court you and fight against other people so in an attempt to avoid all of that he starts treating you like you are already his darling. He follows you around, lays his head down in your lap and just tells you to not fight or act up as this would require him to take action.

🤍​Jealousy is bothersome. It has his thoughts going crazy and his emotions tumbling around inside of him. He doesn't find any peace when he feels jealous and for that jealousy must be avoided so he can continue living his lazy comfort life. For that to happen he needs to keep you with him as jealousy normally only happens when you are around other people. Seishiro tries to isolate you more in order to keep on living the way he wants to live and since he is a very introverted soul, you can say goodbye to your social life. If he isn't quick enough to whisk you away he finds himself standing a few feet away behind you for a few minutes all whilst you can feel his gaze drilling through your build. It is slightly creepy but still bearable until he begrudgingly decides that he has to do something. He slowly creeps up on you before he suddenly clings to your back like a koala, not letting go as he starts walking backwards and tugging you away from the other people. If the other people try to stop him he tends to be somewhat irritated and tells them off quickly.

🤍​People tend to gossip about him since he spends most of his time by himself and he didn't have anyone he would call a friend until Reo came along. What other people think of him is none of his concern as he doesn't have to get worked up over something like they obviously do. His unbothered life changes though because of you. He's more motivated with you around, even if just a tiny bit. Unfortunately that means that emotions such as annoyance and irritation haunt him easier when it is anything that involves you. Sure, it's going to require work to deal with people but Nagi knows that he would be far more stressed out if he would do nothing and just sit back. Ironically enough you always think that he doesn't care when someone bothers you and you tell him about it, in fact you have gotten quite angry with him due to your misconception at times. Yet only a few days later the very same person who made you anxious and sad avoids you all of a sudden as if you were a contagious illness. At least they got the message when Seishiro threatened them the first time. It would have been so bothersome to go further than that after all...

🤍​With his lazy and unmotivated mannerism it is no surprise that an actual abduction wouldn't be something that Nagi would consider all too often. He does live by himself since his parents travel a lot but he barely manages to look out for himself since he has a hard time separating from his phone and doing his work. Taking additional care of you would be double the work and he is aware of that. At the same time he does like spending his time with you, especially since there is no one around who might threaten to tear the peace between the two of you apart. Chances are that his lethargic attitude is something that concerns you slightly and leads you to look out for him more out of concern that he may seriously forget to look after himself. If that should be the case it is something that Seishiro learns to use to his advantage to get more of your time and attention for himself. As lazy as he is you also learn the one or other thing about how to successfully bribe him to look out for himself more. Threatening him to spend less time with him is something that does seem to work rather well as you figure out over time.

🤍​You obviously get to know Reo as well as soon as Nagi starts hanging out with you. Initially the purple-haired boy seems to be iffy about you and it doesn't look like he likes you a lot since you steal Nagi away from him but if he should antagonise you too much it is surprisingly Nagi who suddenly stands up for you and tells his friend bluntly off. The sometimes excessive laziness of Nagi can be either a curse or a blessing if you learn how to properly use it. On the one hand he often doesn't want to bother to let you go because he might find you in a situation again that would force him to think and get active again but on the other hand at times you can also use it to steer him a bit. As addicted to his phone as he is at times, Nagi is quite the respectable collection of pictures from you that he has snapped over time. In over half of them you weren't even aware that he was snapping them but now that he has made them anyways it would be a bother to delete them all again.

Isagi Yoichi

💙​Rather unsuspecting to the untrained eye, Isagi is not the individual you would deem as the most intimidating nor threatening if you were to put him next to some of the other players in Blue Lock. You do not suspect him for anything either when you get to know him as he appears as a rather simple and innocent boy. What you miss about him though whenever you interact with him are those blue eyes analysing you and greedily taking in every little gesture and movement of yours. Playing in Blue Lock has taught Isagi to always analyse and read his opponents, to understand their pattern and this is something he does with you just as much. What is even more worrying is his willingness to adapt parts of his own personality if he figures out what you look for in a partner. He isn't simply copying though, he fully adapts and makes it his own which is perhaps much more frightening as he continuously reshapes himself without losing his core. He is still himself even if he tears himself apart and reimagines himself.

💙​He is much more on an obsessive scale than you would ever imagine. He needs more information about you, needs to understand you better and better or else he would feel like a failure and couldn'r rest properly. For that reason he stalks you, aware that you won't tell him everything about you since the both of you aren't that close yet. The knowledge that you probably hide things from him is something that silently torments even if he still understands that he would do the same if the tables were turned. In regards to how lucid Yoichi actually is about his own feelings I'd probably put him in the middle and label him as someone who is semi-delusional. Isagi is driven by his ego like most people are in Blue Lock and this drive is what pushes him to indulge in his possessive and obsessive feelings yet at the same time he can snap out of this mindset for a while and simmer in his own shame when he actually holds on for a while and realises just how disturbing and creepy he is acting. It's obvious what would happen if you were to find out about it and he also isn't delusional enough to mistake politness and kindness as signs of romantic affection from your side.

💙​His ego aside Isagi is still one of the more capable people to deal with jealous for a while even if he doesn't like being ignored. He feels normally quite reassured to let you hang out with people but it has to be admitted that this isn't because he just blindly trusts you nor them. No, it is because he has also stalked your friends and gotten to know them better and has arrived at the conclusion that they do not feel anything remotely romantic for you and it is the same case in regards to how you think about them. Isagi pays a ridiculous amount of attention to body language to the point where he becomes quite good in noticing small habits and gestures that would tell him that there are more feelings involved than admitted. It is when he knows that an interest is involved that he gets more uneasy. He sticks closer, blue eyes barely blinking as he seems to try to read the soul of a person. He starts fidgeting around, gets increasingly uncomfortable and anxious as the minutes pass until he can't hold himself back anymore and steps in. He seems for a good few seconds unsure and embarrassed as all attention is suddenly on him before he regains his composure and tries to end the conversation.

💙​Normally he is the peacemaker even amongst the people in Blue Lock but he has gotten a lot more ruthless as time passes. Still though, he tries to act somewhat normal and warn someone if they have gotten on his nerves and he has started considering them as someone that he might have to get rid off. It is when his warning isn't headed that all sympathy just drops as everything that will happen from now on is going to be their fault due to their ignorance. Isagi manipulates and he blackmails as well, playing around someone to use and confuse them. Calculated and ambitious with his approach, he is frighteningly meticulous as he creates a strategy to remove someone from the picture. He doesn't mind stomping on their dreams and leaving a permanent hole in their life as a result of his actions and he doesn't stop to consider it either. Perhaps because unconsciously he knows that if he were to hold on for a minute and think about it, he would feel the same fright upon noticing what he is doing once more.

💙​There is still a thin line that he seems to separate, one that he would greatly hesitate to overstep even if he is partially delusional. He can and will step over other people if it is needed but he finds himself pausing when it comes to ignoring even your own dreams to achieve his own goals. He loves to see you happy, loves to see your smile and to hear your laughter and he is afraid that it would all turn into tears if he were to mess up and take it too far until even you realise just what he has been doing the entire time. That is why he does his best to find ways to work around the scenario where he would have to kidnap you and as long as he can still see paths that lead elsewhere, he will take them. It is only when he is unable to find any other routes and can't create a path either that he finds himself marching down the only way left with a heavy heart. This could make or break the relationship depending on how well you handle the situation as he might potentially break if your feelings for him would turn into hatred and resentment or, potentially the worst, if you were to treat him like he is nonexistent.

💙​A sucker for praise from his darling, Yoichi is not above making a fool out of himself to please you and be praised by you. It is possible to have a relationship with him that looks normal to the oblivious eyes if you handle him right. If everything works seamlessly Isagi is basically the equivalent of an eager puppy who wants to be called a "good boy" from you and will try everything to keep you happy as long as it doesn't involve parting from you. At the same time he never drops his calculated and analytical observations though as he always needs to have a good overview of his environment and all the players in it, a mindset that he not only uses when on the court but also in his daily life. Subtle manipulation is a common habit of his though he tries to justify it by seeing it as a method to avoid an escalation which would require him to do potentially worse things. And if you don't know about it, you won't be able to get mad at him either. So is it really something bad if you are neither aware of it nor will suffer any lasting consequences?

[b1rds3ye]

Cod men with an so that has a kink for their gear/uniform …thats all

Anon you are SPEAKING MY LANGUAGE at this rate my obsession for people in uniform is unhealthy but it IS WHAT IT IS ✌️(only price and gaz for this one tho, my brain just ain’t braining for ghost and soap 😩😩)

In Uniform

Characters: Captain John Price, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

GN!Reader w/ no physical descriptions

Word Count: 1.4 (~700 each)

Genre: Fluff, Smut 18+/MDNI, established relationship

Warning: Smut, 18+/MDNI, No overly dom/sub themes I don’t think? riding + worship (Price), thigh riding (Gaz), if I miss anything, let me know

A/N: This is the spiciest I've ever written (it pales in comparison to the filth I read but reading vs writing is a whole different story WRITING THIS WAS SO HARD ARGH-)

Captain John Price

Price is not blind. For the sake of professionalism, he doesn’t comment on it, but he can’t help but feel smug when he notices how your eyes trace his chest rig. How it looks almost too small with how it hugs to his chest, the straps that wrap over his shoulders emphasising his thick arms and broad torso. How the extra gear he has to equip gives his already large chest more volume

He will never sacrifice practicality and comfort over visuals on a mission… but if he knows he should just be wandering around base he may just tighten the straps of his gear a little more than usual just so it hugs his form better when he meets you. Just because he’s in a stable relationship with you and a high ranking soldier doesn’t mean the captain can’t have some fun and a little ego boost!

Still, Price is reluctant to test the extents of your uniform kink. His uniforms are often filthy and he can’t imagine anything more repulsive than some crusty blood of the enemy staining the pure haven that is your shared bed. Even after they’re cleaned, there’s a lingering concern that they’re not clean enough

But if there’s anything that John is weak to, it’s you with your hopeful eyes and sweet smile. He’ll triple clean his uniform and he’s ready to for it to join the confines of your bedroom

Even under you, Price prides himself on his restraint. He hasn’t lost the image of a commanding captain, still fully dressed save for the fly of his cargos pulled down just enough to free his cock that is now buried in you. The rough fabric of his cargos leave a pleasant burn against your bare thighs, but it’s nothing compared to the pleasant burn of John stretching you out. You want to move your hips faster, to have him hit the parts you know he can hit perfectly. But no, this night will be slow, cherishing the delicious sight below you.

You shift slightly and you whine at the impossible fullness from within. Distracting yourself from the intoxicating pain you drag your hands along his chest rig. Prying and slipping your fingers into every crevice and bend of straps and pockets, they twitch as an odd aftershock washes through your body. Under your palms John’s chest lifts with every heavy breath. Pressing them flat against his stomach as it deflates, you exhale with him as your relaxing body adjusts to him filling up your every crevice.

John’s hand creeps up to curl around one of your wrists. The plastic coating of his gloves offers a foreign coolness that has your body jolting and you whine as goosebumps coat your burning body.

“Didn’t know you had such a thing for men in uniform,” he simpered, his other hand down to rest on your hip. He idly massages at the plush skin, fingers digging deep down into the layer of muscle. Tilting into his touch, you try and contort yourself to get his hand a little closer to where you’re most sensitive, just that little bit more but he doesn’t relent, his moustache and beard now slightly curved as he watches you with amusement.

“Only you,” you whisper and his next breath is hefty and rugged, accompanied with a satisfied hum that reverberates through his entire being.

“That’s right, sweetheart. Only me.”

You pull your hands back up to his chest rig, you slip your fingers under the securing straps and take a firm grip. Hands dangerously close to his throat, John’s Adam apple instinctively bobs in anticipation.

“Getting handsy, are we?”

“Just need a bit more,” you mutter absentmindedly. You stare at him with blown out eyes. “Can I?”

“Do as you wish.”

Using your grip on his rig, you pull your hips further, feeling him deeper, harder. His hands immediately find purchase on your hips to steady you as you tremor at the new sensation. He only moves with you, his hips offering the faintest of encouragement as he slightly drives them up into you. Once you manage to set a rhythm above him the captain sounds near unrecognisable as he stifles a groan with every tug against his gear.

“Fuck. Just like that, darling.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle is attentive to you, so he is aware of how your eyes scan his body when he walks past. He never thought that his uniform was particularly attractive or attention-grabbing since literally everyone else wears it, but he’s glowing upon noticing that he can entrance you over what’s merely his day-to-day gear

In low stakes situations, this man is teasing you to hell and back. Not directly though, he’ll never explicitly say he knows you have a thing for his uniform, but just before a mission he’ll have you double checking if his chest rig and gear are firmly secured to his body. Of course, they won’t be, and he’ll ask you to tighten the straps, discreetly flexing the respective body parts all the while

Now you can tell when Kyle’s horny. Instead of immediately shedding his gear to wash up and relax with you, he’ll only get rid of weaponry and any contents in his various pockets but the gear and uniform stays on in a (not so) discreet attempt of getting you just as riled up as he is

“Shit, you look so good.”

You let out a halfhearted laugh that morphs into a sigh as you grind your hips against his thigh. Through the flimsy fabric of your underwear, you swear you can feel everything against you. Each individual fibre of his cargo pants, the ridges of the seams. Even through the fabric you can feel the soft swells of his muscular thigh that you’re seated on.

“You should take a look at yourself,” you praise breathlessly.

Even with clothes on, Kyle looked hot as hell. Still in his gear, it made the slivers of his skin that revealed themselves all the more tantalising. His half-unbuttoned shirt revealing skin covered in a sheen of sweat. Sleeves haphazardly shoved up the arm to reveal his lean forearms, veins pulsating with lust as they hold onto your hips like a lifeline.

“Caught you staring earlier,” he mutters. With those godly arms he wraps them around your back, forcing you to lean into him, sweaty forehead against his.

“Thought you were worried about me, but it was really you I should have been worried about.”

His words are lost on you and he only smirks as your hips move forward and back and forward again with reckless abandon. Each drag of your hips getting more exaggerated, more forceful as you strain against Kyle’s arms that selfishly pull you taut to him.

“Let me… move, dammit,” you huff as you struggle to move in his hold.

“What? Is it bad that I want to be close with the love of my life?” he offers an innocent laugh but his eyes are still trained down to where your hips rhythmically meet his thigh with sinful movements.

Grinding your hips, you grunt unexpectedly as a pointed intrusion brushes against your clothed sex, nipping at where it was most sensitive. Christ, Kyle must’ve forgotten to take out a spare magazine in his cargo pockets. The edge of its hard metal giving a delicious contrast against his thick, clothed muscle, you experiment, trying a new angle to brush your most sensitive areas with his leftover weaponry.

It sends a wave of electricity through your body that has you jerking a knee up, one that brushes against Kyle’s hard on and he whines. His embrace only tightens as he tries to silence himself with his face buried in your chest.

“Shit- do that again,” his words are muffled against your skin, echoing through your rib cage.

With the next roll of your hips you pull your knee up once again. The stimulation against his dick has him instinctively flexing his thighs, and you tremble at the extra firmness in between your legs, the sensation evoking a sound of pure sin from you.

Kyle rolls his head to the side to rest on your shoulder, his ragged breaths burning against the crook of your neck.

“Please- fuck - do it again, love.”

You didn’t have to be told twice.

Call of Duty Masterlist

[allfearstofallto]

Nice

Yandere childe x reader

1.7k

Synopsis: He'll buy you absolutely anything your heart desires, but he longs for you to describe things as more than just "nice"

TW: Yandere, abusive themes, bribery, NSFW themes, toxic relationship, Dub-Con

AN: I haven't written in FOREVER so forgive me if it's not awesome or if it feels incomplete. My last account got shadow banned :(, doesn't help that I was already pretty depressed before that. No time for sob stories here, it's been two years since I've written anything and I miss writing, thanks for joining me!

Gems that dazzled and gleamed stars in the night sky, silver that was carved painstakingly from the mines in Liyue, an appearance that was beautiful, but still kept up with the most current fashion trends. He had truly outdone himself with this one, this has to be the one that would take your breath away. The one that would make you leap into his arms and pepper his face with kisses from your sweet lips that he rarely got the chance to taste.

When it came to gifts for you, there was no price tag. Childe would spend every mora he had if it meant he could even get a smile out of you and spend he often did. Money meant nothing to him, being a Fatui harbinger, his paychecks were larger than he knew what to do with. After sending money back home to his family, he still had so much left and nothing that he longed for other than your affection. So, why not spend it on something else he cared about?

Your eyes ghosted over the ring he was showing you, encased in a black velvet box with red satin holding it up. It wasn’t an engagement ring, he’d assured you of that multiple times after you were taken aback by him holding it up to you. He knew you weren’t ready for that just yet, and he was willing to respect your wishes, but he still wanted to give you something to wear on that pretty little finger to show that you were his while you waited for the real deal. Your engagement ring would be much, much larger than the one he was gifting you now and it would incorporate details from both of your home countries.

The expression on your face was unreadable. It wasn’t quite a grimace, but it wasn’t a smile either. It was the usual face you made when you were given something. An equal mixture of discomfort and unease. “It’s…nice.” you mumbled quietly as he slipped the ring onto your finger.

There was that word again. Nice. It made him sick to his stomach every time he heard it fall from your pretty lips. But that was always what you said about his gifts, as if you couldn’t think of another word to describe how you felt about them. Rare spices imported from Sumeru? Nice. A custom hanfu made from only the finest silk to wear to the lantern rite? Nice. Wine aged for almost a decade and shipped straight from Mondstadt? Very nice.

You spoke that one word, but even then it felt like you were straining yourself to say that much. On multiple occasions, your displeasure with receiving such expressive gifts was expressed, but he told you that that didn’t matter. Mora was just an object to him, something that held no value, and yet you still held each gift as if they would collapse under your touch.

“You can tell me if you don’t like it,”

“No!” you quickly retorted back, holding your hand up to examine the ring once more, “Its…” you purse your lips to stop yourself from saying the word, knowing that he would only be upset with your lack of what he considered to be a proper answer, “I like it.”

With a sigh and a dramatic slump of his shoulders, he reached up and cupped your face. His hand felt like solid ice against your cheek. Childe often claimed that that was another thing he loved about you so much. How warm your body was in comparison to himself. He told you that when he someday took you to Snezhnaya to meet his family, you would be his personal heater, that he wouldn’t let you go for even a second during the duration of your stay there.

“You don’t even wear the earrings I got you anymore,” Childe’s long fingers traced from your cheek to the lobe of your ear, grazing the empty hole where jewelry would go.

“You know I can’t wear those at work,”

“Then quit your job,” He spoke those words so quickly, with no hesitation, a part of you was convinced you imagined it. But you working was a constant conflict of interest between the two of you, something you’d even argued about before.

The situation grew heated that day. Both of you, yelling back and forth about what you thought was right. You remembered seeing his eyes glow at the same time as his vision that rested on his hip, making your stomach drop. Childe would never hurt you, would he? But even you didn’t know the answer to that, you could never be too sure about what was going on in the mind of a harbinger. So you backed down slightly, telling him that it was something you would consider, and that answer sufficed with him for the time being.

“Childe-”

“Ajax,” he cut you off. He hated when you used his codename, claiming that as his future wife, you alone should be allowed to call him by his given name.

“Ajax," you exhaled harshly after speaking his name, "I really would like to work and be independent,”

For just the briefest of moments, his eyes went dull, his smile fell, his facade faltered and he was his true self. It only lasted for less than a second, the average person might not have even seen it, but you’d spent so much time with him. You knew his tells. You knew that even though he was smiling again, it was completely fake. He was angry, even if the gleam in his eyes didn't show it.

A cold kiss was pressed against your cheek, just a peck to get his point across. When he pulled away, still making eye contact, he was still so close that you could feel his shallow breath on your skin. He squatted down slightly to meet your eyes and whispered against your lips, “I don’t plan to let my wife work. Why don’t you quit now, have a little practice before we’re wed?”

He said that as a suggestion, but you knew it wasn’t one. With Childe there were only orders and threats, nothing in between. You had no choice on whether or not you’d get to work, on whether or not you got to live alone, on whether or not you married him. In his eyes, you were already his, and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it.

A lump was caught in your throat as you tried to figure out what to say. Could you even tell him that the prospect of marrying him was something that seldom crossed your mind? Something that even when you did think about, it brought a twinge of fear into your heart. That on multiple occasions, you considered leaving him, but your unease around him was what was making your stay.

“I…” you finally met his gaze as you tried to force words out of your tense body. His eyes felt so cold and the hand that he had managed to snake its way down onto your shoulder was gripping your flesh tightly. It was a warning that what you said next would matter, “I should just-”

“You should quit,” he spoke the last part of the sentence for you, not caring about what you truly wanted to say.

Eyes turned downcast, you gave a slow nod. There wasn’t much of a choice with him anymore, he was hellbent on that being your answer. He had given you an order, if you didn’t react the way he wanted you to, you would regret it.

The grip that was on your shoulder loosened, exhibiting that you had pleased him and another kiss was placed on your cheek as a reward. This time his lips touched just below your eyes, where tears were threatening to fall, “That’s my girl,” another peck right against your lips, “How about I buy you something special, huh? For being so good.”

You swallow slowly, trying to keep yourself from falling apart in front of him, clenching and unclenching your fist as a way to self soothe. Your voice was shaky as you delivered your stiff answer, “Sure. That sounds lovely.”

“How about a new pair of earrings,” he followed this up by lightly biting the side of your ear, “or maybe a new necklace,” you felt his warm tongue slide down from your ear to your collarbone, making all the hairs on your body stand up, “Or maybe even a new dress,” he spoke into your neck, his hand reaching down and trying to slide the dress you were wearing up your thigh, exposing your your bare skin to the air.

You jolted your body backwards, your hands placed against his chest in an attempt to keep the distance between the two of you. He was moving so fast. Too fast. Even though it had been a while since you and him had last been intimate, for him to try it again so suddenly was worrisome.

You didn’t dare look at his face. There was no doubt about it that he was upset at your response to his touch, he never liked when you rejected him. The hand that was placed against him, was taken into his. The way he held you was gentle, but you could still feel force behind his movement. The thumb of his hand traced the back of your palm as he held you, before lifting it up and placing a kiss against it. Right on your finger, right on the very expensive ring he’d just bought you, almost as a way to draw your attention to it once more.

“What’s gotten into you? Hm?” he had an eyebrow cocked and a grin on his face, “Pushing me away like that after I got you something so precious? You’re going to hurt my feelings.”

“I just don’t think I’m in the mood for this right now,” you mumbled, switching between looking at your dress you were fiddling with and his borderline unblinking eyes.

Silence fell over the two of you, to the point where you could hear your own heart beat, the sound of blood pumping in your ears, the sound of his breaths that were slightly heavier than normal. Childe was rarely quiet. It was hard to get him to keep his mouth shut. In a way his anger was scaled based on how loud he was, the quieter, the worse.

His large hand came into your sight again, making you flinch about what was coming ahead, but rather than being struck, he used his thumb to trace your lips, “Figure something out.”

[alwaysshallow]

single mom x price; PART 2

AO3 VERSION

part one || part three || part four

“Please. Be good, alright?”

You look down at your son. He holds his bear close to his chest; defensive, as you sense—you almost sigh at this view. He’s in a bad moment. The moment where he needs no one, but his mom and the cuddles that you normally would give him, if the nanny wouldn’t be on her way.

And it’s his favorite nanny.

You’re reluctant to let him stay in the house, considering not only his humor, but the earlier tantrum that he gave you. Something between “you’re the worst mother ever”—which only gives you an eye roll, but it’s a potential theme for a cry session later on—and “i don’t want anyone else but you”.

Normally, you’d call your mother that loves him to the core, but given that she’s in Hawaii, not really reachable for you and possibly not in the mood to listen to your problems. She only wants to do it when she’s bored, and if she can give you her “golden advice” without a chance of being cut off by you putting a phone away because she crossed a line.

Which happened too many times in the past, since she just absolutely adored engaging in your life. Reminding you every time that you are responsible for the position you found yourself in and the only thing that could possibly save you is listening to her. Marrying the man that she gets to pick.

Because the mother knows best, as she always says.

The irony of beefing with your son is irritating for you too; especially that you need a nanny for an hour, maybe a little more because you need to go to the town meeting. You could skip it, sure, but it’s like skipping an opportunity; and who knows what will happen. Maybe you’ll get around doing something that will bring money, if they will talk about the spring festival.

Last year you got yourself quite a deal, so the thought is exciting enough for you.

The possibility of meeting John is thrilling, too, even if you don’t want to admit it directly. Everything about this man is electric, enticing enough for you to barely be able to think around him. Something is tingling in your chest, when you think about it. He’s acclimatizing well enough in town too, as you learned—and the town meeting is a good chance to see with whom he’s close.

Animal in a zoo, it would be a good comparison, even if it seems cruel for some reason because John is anything but it.

You get to leave the house after five minutes of talking with your nanny. She’s like an angel, considering that she convinced you to leave, telling you that she’s gonna do alright with your son and his tantrums aren’t really the worst thing that happened in her career.

Which, oddly enough, you believe, without even knowing the details.

You sit in the second row at the meeting. Arms crossed, maybe a little defensive, but you’re not opposed to talking with people that sit near you. They show you photos, talk about their family, ask kindly about yours, until someone mentions a husband when you tell them about a situation from days ago.

Normally, you’d probably make a snarky remark about their comment, saying something how rude it is to point to someone that they need a man, when your point isn’t missing someone to help you around.

That’s normally, if your ears wouldn’t catch that voice. The voice that’s hard to forget even if you’d desperately try to do it. Deep, drawing attention to the owner immediately, like a moth to a flame because the desire to look is impossible to resist. Everyone knows that the appearance does the magic, but if the voice is attractive, most likely is the one who has it.

And that’s exactly John Price.

You observe him only with a corner of your eye, assured that if you’re gonna glance at him once then he’s gonna know where you are. It’s like the seventh sense of his, probably acquired after his job, at least you think that’s the case.

You don’t need that. What you actually want, need, is a small dose of mystery that you currently have without him knowing you’re here.

Maybe that’s not fair, but you don’t care.

He talks mostly with guys from the local workshop; they vigorously explain something to him and he nods. Listens, then responds in such a different mannerism that they represent. Calmer, more stoic, yet it can’t be mistaken with indifference. He’s just… thinking type, you assume. The one who calculates before taking any action.

Wise man, so to speak.

Besides the boring stuff at the community meeting, there’s just one thing that could potentially interest you in—competition for the best garden in town. It has everyone gossiping there and there in a deep hope, or strategies what to do to earn a win; mostly those successful, straight out of family movie moms, ideal moms who are doing everything for their families. Chit-chatter about flowers, techniques and stuff disrupts everything enough to make a meeting come to an end. There’s no point in continuing, when no one listens.

You aren’t even considering the competition, but it gets you enough to think of renovating your garden. Forgotten long ago, as it needed too much work when you had a small kid; right now, when your son is six, there’s way more opportunities for you to actually try to tend it. Who knows, maybe spring is the best time for that.

“So. Gonna snatch that first place reward?” You almost jump, when you feel a hand on your hip. Light touch, but waking you up from your thoughts enough to acknowledge how tender it is. Allowing you to back off easily, if you’d feel like it’s too much.

But you know who this is. And you somehow know that it’s not too much.

“I wish,” you laugh dryly, looking finally at John. He arches an eyebrow, then proceeds to walk back to back with you, no hesitation in his moves whatsoever. “Not really a gardener. Besides, knowing how my garden looks right now… Not really a chance, no.”

There’s a second of silence. “Could help you with that,” he says, fixing his shirt; you give him a quick glance. His outfit isn't really different from the other times. Simple flannel, worn out jeans, combat boots and this well-known, plastered smile into his lips. Charming and dangerous, you think. “I have time, if you really want it.”

You clear your throat, conflicted. Do you really care that much about possibly winning a contest? Maybe John’s help would really do wonders, considering that he already helped a lot of people in the neighborhood; with success that didn’t take much time, as you know.

Kind, nice, doesn’t want anything else in return; could work for you for free. You’re 99% sure that you would bake him a pie or something anyway, but the thought you wouldn’t have trouble with payment is nice enough.

“Maybe. I need to think about it.” He raises his eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he just nods his head in an understanding manner.

“We’ll exchange numbers, then. It’ll be easier,” John announces, giving you his phone. You look at him, dumbstruck—it wasn’t exactly your plan to do this.

“I don’t— Well, I don’t think it’s necessary—”

He barks a laugh, shaking his head. “Nonsense. Come on.” Price smiles; like an angel, truly. Angel in a disguise of a tempting devil because you enter your number into his contacts, even if you wanted to keep it as a secret a little bit more. “Wasn’t so hard, was it? Didn’t think I’m some kind of a creep, did you?”

Your face flushes with pure red, when he implies that. “No! No. I’m just… I don’t use a phone often,” you croak. White lie that don't really need much explanation from you.

“That right,” he muses, possibly amused with your hurried talk. “I’ll call you in a few, then.”

He sticks to his promise, as you learn over the next few days.

The thing is: you don’t pick up.

It’s not like you do it on purpose. At least, that’s what you tell yourself when you see a few missed calls on the phone, the moment you come back from the grocery store. Or, when you’re out in the garden with your kid, planning how it’s gonna change in the future because you’re just taken-aback by how bad it looks. Like it’s not your garden.

Maybe the problem is your lack of courage to call him, too. It would take one click and you’d be done with the task, but somehow, you can’t bring yourself to it. Mixed feelings and the “I can take care of anything” mindset doesn’t help you much.

It feels like a reminder to call back, when you see John outside. He’s in the middle of a discussion with some teenagers that were screaming earlier, disrupting the precious night silence. You thank him in mind that you don’t have to do it—as you got up from bed only for this—you just observe everything behind your window, wrapped in a fluffy robe. You can’t miss the drama, even if it means that you’ll lose a few minutes of your sleep.

Your humor gets better automatically, as you even laugh at how disappointed they seem, going straight up to their homes.

And then, you cross gazes with him.

There’s a faint smile from John. He raises his hand, greeting you, so you do the same. However, the difference in moves is clear. John does it slowly, you almost rush to do it and disappear into your bedroom, so he won’t get an idea that you’re up for a talk.

Because you’re not. You’re too tired to do that, to talk with a man that makes a pretty mess in your head every time you’re around him. And, you’re way too ashamed to do that when he called you multiple times and you haven’t answered even a single one of it.

Some part of you wants to give in and text him right after you see him, but you let this idea flow by. You’re gonna text him at the right moment, you think. The middle of the day, or when you’re gonna see that he works over something, so he won’t be able to read it right away.

You forget about your declaration soon enough. Way too caught up with balancing between home, work and school, you don’t quite realize that the longer you’ll extend the whole thing, the longer it will be over your head.

On Monday, you’re reminded. At first, you don’t really acknowledge it, too irritated that you can’t move your car because someone decided to park behind you, blocking your way. The only thing that keeps you from screaming is your son that does not really care what’s going on. He just sits in the back, playing with his toys, unbothered.

The realization of whose car it is, overwhelms you completely in one moment. You know whose car it is. It’s hard not to, really, when you think about it: there’s only one pick up truck around. The neighborhood is full with families that prefer—most definitely—a car more efficient, a car that has more seats because that’s the only way everyone will fit and ride for football games and all that shit.

The thought you have to ask him out of all people, gives you a migraine.

It’s an awkward thought; the way you have to say something. You haven’t returned any of his calls, treating him like some one night stand (even if it wasn’t the case because you never slept together), and now you want him to move his car. Theoretically speaking, he should do it without even thinking twice.

You can’t help but wonder though, if he’s even gonna acknowledge your plea, given you ignored the shit out of him.

Rude, you think. You’re rude and you did nothing about the calls. About the proposition. You totally ignored John Price, and now you’re embarrassed because you have to ask him something. Maybe if you’d think of calling him back, you wouldn’t even be stressed about this situation. Quick text to him, and there he is, moving his car.

In another lifetime, though. In this, you have to do something else.

After you tell your kid you’re gonna be back in a second, you decide to test your luck and jog into his house, just a few meters away, knocking with a whole monologue in your head. How you need him to move your car because your kid needs to go to school. How you need it to go to the grocery store, you even think of giving him an excuse that you need to go to your mom, even if it’s a straight up lie.

You don’t have to wait long. Door swings open a few seconds later and you can see John, a little bit sleepy and confused—possibly because no one normally wants to see someone at seven in the morning.

He speaks before you have a chance to do it. “So eager to apologize, eh?”

It takes you a few seconds before you stare into his eyes, instead of his chest. “Excuse me?” You blink several times. It’s not like you didn’t understand what he said, it’s just his body that you pay too much attention to. He has no shirt on himself, his sweats low on his hips. Tempting.

You do not look lower than that, for the sake of your sanity. No time for fantasies—and it seems like he knows what you’re thinking, as he smirks with that annoying smugness that he has.

“You haven’t returned my calls,” he says, voice low. Might be the consequence of just waking up, but you think of it as seductive. You’re not gonna rub it into his face though, when he literally has the upper hand in this situation. Wouldn’t be smart. “Thought you’re here ‘cause of it.”

You clear your throat. He’s not wrong, but he’s not right either. “Yeah. We’ll talk about this later, but could you—”

“Why?” John tilts his head. It doesn’t help your case in any way. “We have time, you came here early. Might as well—”

“There’s… a lot going on,” you blurt out, interrupting. You don’t really know if he believes you or not, but he certainly is interested in why. So, before he has the chance to say that, you speak up again, "And you have to move your car first.”

“A lot? You know that I offered to help if something’s too much, right?”

You forget how to breathe for a minute. His tone is hard, a sheer contrast to playful John that was here just a minute ago. Not quite scary, since it doesn’t even sound like a threat, but it is a reminder. Urgent one. “I know, but—"

“None of that. If you need something, you call me.”

“Right now, I need you to fix your car.” Comes out a little bit aggressive. It has Price raising an eyebrow.

“My car seems perfectly good, why would I do that?" John leans against the door frame, looking down at you. You're pretty sure you've never felt smaller than you do now.

Using his advantage to intimidate you is smart. Something that he’s gonna do, if you’re gonna show him that you’re weak for it.

You cough. Trying to be civil here is a necessity, you think. Especially if you actively ignored him before. "Thing is, you blocked my car," you try to explain—calmly, before you run away from him; you even point at your red Mazda, a late birthday gift from your grandfather. "I have to… drive my son to his school."

"I did?" he raises his eyebrow. For a minute, his eyes are off you, attention on the parking lot, trying to search for the problem. Then, he looks at you again. "Mm. Seems perfectly fine to me, love.”

Love. He does it to annoy you, that’s the only reason why he’s so unfazed. Or, he’s trying to achieve something different, but for now, you can’t think straight when this man—half naked man, to be exact—blocks your car’s way, looking good.

Too good.

“I can’t move in any way. You’re… too close.”

“Too close? Could say this sooner—”

“—too close with your car, I mean,” you add, weakly. Price has you stepping on your tiptoes, so careful with picking your words. Precise what you mean because if you’re not gonna do it, he could take advantage and change the meaning.

He chuckles, his smile widening. If he’d be anyone else, you’d think that is a predator move. “Makin’ you all nervous and stressed. Why? Am I this scary, love?”

Again. Again this pet name.

“Just— Can you, please, move your car?” you ask, massaging your temples. He makes you weak in the knees and irritated at the same time; you don’t even acknowledge the steps forward that he makes.

He gets your attention the moment he tips your chin up. This feeling itself is making your stomach jump; skin sizzles with that specific need, deep in your heart that you rather not admit, but it is there. It is there, and John makes it difficult not to melt into a puddle in his hands. Ridiculously warm hands on your skin, to add.

The comfort he brings wraps around you tight like a blanket in particularly cold mornings. Important, needed even, especially in fragile moments. You almost forgot how it feels.

“What car is it? Red mazda?” He breaks eye contact with you for a second to glance once again at the parking lot.

“Yeah.”

He locks his eyes with you again. “Oh, honey. Should say that sooner”

There’s a storm happening inside your head; a strange type of deja vu falls on you like a tsunami wave; unexpected and cruel in some way. Did you not tell him what car is it? That's why he acted funny, so cocky, not taking you seriously? You’re sure you pointed in the right direction, even if you didn’t tell him what car it was. He looked here.

Or maybe he didn't? Why would he lie, though? You might as well be tired, you think. It’s not easy to be a single mom, to balance everything out.

Right?

Storm inside your head makes you ignore the warm feeling in your stomach, when John guides you to the parking lot with his big hand on the small of your back.

“I'm sorry.”

"It's okay. Nothing, really," you gulp. "You're new here, so you might not know my car."

Even if you’re sure you pointed him the direction of it.

“Could know better,” he hums, caressing your clothed skin. Tenderly, afraid to break you in any means. “So, so sorry. Really. And look, now because of me you have to put up with being late. Came home later than usual… If I saw all of that, I’d find a different spot.”

You smile a little, pleased with his explanation. There’s nothing wrong in your mind about this situation, nothing that could indicate that he’s lying. Even if he’s a little too close for comfort, you think it’s because that’s who he is.

He moves his car quickly, while you talk to your kid; he almost didn’t notice your disappearance, too interested in his toys. Even if you want desperately to listen, your brain is too occupied with the previous situation, with Price looking so good without a shirt.

Your son tells you about the “drama” between the elephant and monkey when John comes back into the picture, right before you are about to reverse.

“Everythin’ good now? Nothing else to take care of?”

“Everything’s alright.” You give him another smile. “Thank you, John.”

“No problem.” He glances at your kid, then, back at you. “We’ll have to talk later. About the garden.”

“Yeah. Yeah, we’ll have to.”

[misscammiedawn]

As an avid "break my spine at 90mph" roller coaster enjoyer I was kinda put out by Jenny taking a pot shot at Six Flags in the opening moments of her new Star Wars Hotel video but the distinction between Amusement Park and Theme Park felt fair and I kinda just let it go.

4 hours later I realize that the entire thesis of the video rests upon that sentiment. If Disney are price locking the theme part of the theme parks then they're basically transforming into themed malls with a couple of tame fairground rides. That's pretty dang inexcusable. Disney Parks are going to cut costs until the point of which Jenny's opening barb at Six Flags will be a *compliment* in comparison... and that's inexcusable.

[probablybadrpgideas]

Tourist Destinations Of The Outer Planes

Mechanus: How dare you suggest there would be anything novel or unique in Mechanus?! To cog jail with you!

Arcadia: Like those normal towns with "world best fish and chips" except they're scrupulously fact checked. "Home of Arcadia's 3826th best B&B according to multiple double-blind studies (citations available on request)"

Mount Celestia: Pure and ineffable spiritual bliss in the face of the divine and, after that, a pretty decent pizza shop where you can get a t-shirt with your face when you learnt the true name of God.

Bytopia: Bytopia is the embodiment of the concept of "pull yourself up by your bootstraps" and also the domain of the gnome deities, so if you've ever wanted to see the Great Wheel's only 24/7 prank youtuber live show where all the pranks revolve around how millennials need to spend less on avocado toast, you're in luck! If not, may I recommend the abyssal layer where snakes drink your eyes as a pleasant reprieve?

Elysium: Just a rabbit sat on a rock but because you're in Elysuim it's the best thing you've ever seen. You autodelete all memories of your wedding and children's birth and suchlike for being shit in comparison.

The Beastlands: Who's the best dog in the world? Who is it? This isn't a rhetorical question, there's an objective answer. You can see him for the low price of four acorns and a fancy rock.

Arborea: Don't be fooled by the signs! The natives of Arborea spend their time playing and dancing so they have things like open plan offices and tax return help-desks as vacation spots. Instead ask where the boring parts of Arborea are to be given directions to the firework waterslide music concert video game dance party.

Ysgard: Monuments to epic deeds literally everywhere. So many monuments they start sounding sarcastic. If you successfully get to your hotel room they erect a 15ft statue commemorating it.

Limbo: "Look, you had to be there. Literally, what I saw existed beyond the capacity of human words to describe and I weep tadpoles when I try to recall it in any detail"

Pandemonium: Great acoustic guitar scene. Well, we assume they're good. If nothing else, you have to admire their perseverance.

The Abyss: Go on Demogorgan's tour of all infinity layers! The most fucked up shit you've ever seen or your spinal column back guaranteed!

Carceri: Be in the audience at History's Greatest Monster, where the most evil people in history compete for the crown! If you're lucky, you might get an autograph before they're hurled back into their eternal prisons once more!

Hades: Fuck you.

Gehenna: Tourist traps, in the sense of big holes you fall in and have to give a deamon all your money before it will let you out.

The Nine Hells: The Nine Hells are a wonderful place to visit, with a wide varieties of eateries, vistas and attractions that you should visit before you die! I am not writing this under duress and you should not send help to

Acheron: One extremely dangerous theme park. It's cheap and there are few queues but be aware that sometimes the god of orcs will show up and use whatever ride you're on as a bludgeoning weapon. Overall nice atmosphere, 4 stars.

The Outlands: Alas, I'm pretty sure there's absolutely nowhere worth visiting in the outlands. Sorry guys.

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

Hail storms

Requested: No

Warnings: Spicy 🌶, Religious themes (Kyle’s), Oral Sex (Kyle’s) Toxic relationships (Simon’s), Angry Sex (Simon’s), Bondage (Alejandro’s), Spit Kink (Alejandro’s)

Characters: Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, Simon “Ghost” Riley, Alejandro Vargas

Word Count: 1,448

A/N: New layout, woooooo!!!

Gaz - I’m Not An Angel

I wasn't always this way

I used to be the one with the halo

The weight of the gold cross on his clavicle burned as he watched you from across the pub, the sound of Soap’s laughter, of Price’s scolding words, of Ghost’s heavy breathing, it all faded into the background. Like the static of an old radio that you could never tune quite right. But you, you were clarity. The perfect pitch of some singer rising above the other soft noises.

He’d never had a one night stand before. Thought about it, prayed about it, but he could never bring himself to do it. Could never bring himself to let himself taste the sweet fruit of sin that he so often craved. The same one his pastor warned him of when he was but a boy, years before the man that sat in his place now. But he finds himself crossing that threshold now, the devil tugging him closer, a marionette on cursed strings.

“Hi.” He says, as he sits beside you, fingers trembling as he holds onto his mug of cheap beer. “I’m Kyle.”

But that disappeared when I had my first taste

And fell from grace

The taste of you in his mouth was sweeter than anything he had ever had, more than the grapes his mother used to pack in his lunch tin when he was younger, but yet you were also more bitter than the wine that followed communion bread. Innocence turned to pain and fear and blood. But none of it could ever be more holy than. No holy relic would ever be able to bring him to his knees the way flesh between your thighs did.

And when you ran your nails through the stubble of his hair, your eyes piercing and heavy as you stared down at him, he knew the cross he wore meant nothing anymore. A false idol, trying to take your rightful place in his heart. He squirmed impossible closer, tongue out as he panted for air, so desperate to keep tasting you that he was barely a centimeter away.

The chain of his cross broke easy under the grip of his fist, and he heard the soft ting of it hitting the floor, before it was lost to him.

It left me in this place

I'm starting to think, maybe you like it

Kyle woke last the next day, an unusual occurrence considering his line of work. The smell of freshly brewed earl grey curling pleasantly in his nostrils, rousing him from the pleasant warmth of your bed, flaccid cock hanging at his thigh when he slips out from beneath the sheets.

“Love?” He mumbles, feet dragging on the ground, feeling all too much like a newborn lamb, limping after its shepherd after just being born. Like the world was made anew, with you as his guiding light.

And that light led him to the kitchen, where you leaned against the counter, dangling his cross between your pretty fingers.

Meeting his eyes as you let it slip into the trash.

Ghost - I Miss The Misery

When you tell me you'll make it worse

(I'd rather fight all night than watch the TV)

The front door slammed open, your shoulder blades digging painfully into the hardwood as Simon rammed you into it, his hands ripping away at your clothes (clothes he bought you, clothes he loved on you, clothes he always loved to take off), your own tearing away at his skin, nails shredding away at skin like cheap paper, leaving raw bloody lines on his back that were sure to sting .

Some bitter and angry part of you hopes that the next time he tries to have a sleazy fuck with someone else, that they’ll see this. See what you do to him. And know that they’ll always be insufficient by comparison.

Cause no matter how hard you fought, no matter how loud you got. There was a simple truth you needed everyone to know about him.

He was yours. Now. Always. Forever.

I hate that feeling inside

You tell me how hard you'll try

“Promise I’ll get better.” He’s whispered in your ear countless times, curled around you after the latest round of angry sex, clinging to you like a lifeline, like he hadn’t had his hands curled around your throat not even half an hour ago as he told he how much you pissed him off, how much he hated you. “Never do it again. Promise, Love.”

And it was always a lie.

But he promised everytime, even knowing it was futile, fragile, already broken. Floating in the air like the moans you let out in the bedroom, under him with his teeth buried in your shoulder. Fucking you like he wanted to kill you with his dick. Headboard slamming into the wall so hard it cracked, brittle paint chips falling to the floor. And you couldn’t deny how god damn good it felt, everytime you fought your way back towards each other. Like opposing magnets, like heaven and hell.

But when we're at our worst

I miss the misery

The morning after, he was in the front room of the house, grouching and grumbling loudly about how he had to fix the hole the doorknob made again. His side of the bed was still warm from his gargantuan body, making you curl into it, seeking him and his heat out without specifically calling for him, though you knew he would come running with only a word from your sore lips. Eager to flee back to your side and crawl above you once more.

You smiled into the pillows, one full of teeth and mischief.

You couldn’t wait to do it all over again.

Alejandro - Do Not Disturb

Let's take our clothes off

I wanna show you my hidden tattoo

“This is cute.” You chuckled against his lips, back pressed firmly against the cool wall of his apartment, running your fingers over the crow tattoo that arched over his broad hip. The beady eye of the mischievous avian staring right back at you.

“Yes, what every man wants to hear during sex. Cute.” Alejandro laughed in return, darkened hazelnut eyes gaining a hint of amusement as he took your hand and placed it right on the patch of black ink. “Go ahead, touch it. You’re the only one that’ll ever get to see it.”

“Only me, huh?” You cooed in an almost mocking tone of voice, raking your nails along the razor sharp feathers of the ink bird. His skin jiggling pleasantly for you when you reared your hand back to give his ass a playful little slap, the sound of it reverberating in the room along with his grunt. “Well, aren’t I just honored?”

That nobody ever gets to see but you do

Oh baby let me taste ya, shake ya, tie you up and break ya

Hands tied above your head with a silk tie, his silk tie. A brilliant deep blue that stood out against the barebones gray sheets and pillowcases. Blue digging into your wrists in a delicious combination of pain mingling with pleasure. The same as his hips slapping against you with every inward thrust.

“Such a good pretty thing you are.” He huffs, leaning forward and pressing your knees to your chest, constricting your airflow just the smallest bit, white starbursts flashing behind your eyelids. “Letting me tie you up and have my way like this. Gonna let me spit in your mouth next?”

In response, you simply opened your mouth and let your tongue roll out.

'Cause I've been alone, left on my own for too long

Oh damn, too long, too long, too long, I say come on

“Come on.” He huffed, tweaking your nipple, grazing his teeth over the thin skin that stretched over your collarbone, a bruise or two sure to form with how rough he was being. “Come on, come on, come on.”

And come you did, with seizing muscles and flailing legs, a high pitched cry crawling out from your lungs and bursting out your swollen mouth, tears streaming down your cheeks in rivers as you throw your head back in ecstasy. Barely even noticing the way his hips started to stutter before he spilled inside of you, thick white seed covering your insides. Rolling his hips a few more times to really push it all in before he pulls out and collapses beside you, narrowly missing crashing on top of you.

“So….” You start after a few minutes of you both catching a breath, turning to him with sparkling eyes and a mischievous grin. “Round two?”

[nylarac]

hii i have written up comparisons on the 3 main neoclones <3 grundo's cafe is definitely my favorite overall but they all have their pros and cons

grundo's cafe

- start with 6 pets, more expensive to expand than the other neoclones (done through buying tokens) and that type of token increases in cost every time you buy them

- by far the best for games in terms of number of games, optimization for mobile, and np payout + gives random item prizes including paint brushes (high earnings per game and high np cap, able to get even more if you do neoschool)

- most frequent negative random events (maybe i am just unlucky?)

- pant devil attractors are a necessity with how often the wheels destroy your items (i don't think this is just me)

- can buy a shield to protect your pet/self from random events/color changes but it is a) expensive b) gets damaged over time if not equipped to a pet and c) has to be equipped to each pet if you ever want to have them active without risking them

- has by far the most extensive and engaging holiday events of the 3 (at least judging by the halloween events lol)

- no fanmade pets has the most exclusive color options of the 3, lots of alts including older style art (downside is that it's much more expensive to get the alt art than it is on moderneo)

- pets can't have the same name

- most dailies and games have a chance to give you a relic which can be sold at a high price or exchanged for warehouse credits to buy items like alternative color and shield tokens (relics decently common, can usually get 1 or 2 per day through quests, less common through games)

- has a lot of fun unlockable site themes (plus a dark mode) and a useful extra sidebar but not as well optimized for mobile as virtupet (have to zoom in and scroll around some)

- doesn't have as many pages of employment center jobs as moderneo and the payout is lower - np reward for basic jobs seems to be mostly proportional to how many items are being asked for

- seems to have the most active users of the 3

- only neoclone with a functional auction house atm

- has neoschool where you pick a subject and then answer a question + bring random school supplies every day and then are rewarded with a relic (worth more than ones you get from dailies) and double items/np from games for a week

screenshots:

moderneopets

- can have up to 24 pets from the start and can get more with an item called animalis (only about 300k currently)

- not the best for games in terms of number of games, mobile optimization, and np payout (very low cap on max np and low earnings per game)

- best way to make np through games is tyranu evanu which has a higher max np cap but isn't the most fun to play imo

- most frequent positive random events (constantly finding np on the floor etc)

- has lots of fanmade pets (including my beloved motere) and some colors exclusive to moderneo

- also has alts exclusive to moderneo (including v nice color palette swaps)

- pets technically can't have the same name but there's an option to add zero width characters so you can still use whatever name you want

- much easier to please the 2 kings and significantly higher np payout

- not as well optimized for mobile as virtupet (have to zoom in and scroll around)

- best for employment agency jobs - each basic job gives at least 10k no matter how many items are being asked for, has the most pages of options

- can give one item to a pet to have visible on their lookup

- more active than virtupet but less active than grundo's cafe - good for being able to get morphing potions from the magic shop, bad for trying to sell stuff

screenshots:

virtu.pet

- start with 8 pets, you can get extra pet slots through the virtupet mall where you can buy stuff with using virtugems and np

- you can get virtugems by crushing items (more valuable items are worth more)

- the cost of the extra pet slot item does increase every time you buy it

- has some exclusive colors (including a plushie lutari that i really really like)

- equal to grundo's cafe in terms of mobile optimization for games, has less games but still a good amount, highest np cap but lower earnings per game

- can fully disable random events that change your pet color

- best mobile layout (don't need to zoom in and scroll around like you do for the other neoclones) though worth noting that the neopets central bar is off at the moment (you have to tap an icon over to get to the right page)

- pets can have the same name

- can give multiple items to pets as treasure that is visible on their lookup

- only one page of options for jobs at the employment agency, lower payout than moderneo but doesn't seem to be proportional to how many items are being asked for basic jobs like how it is for grundo's cafe

- by far the smallest player base, i am often literally the only person online lol

- nearly impossible to get some items like a plushie paint brush (no one selling them)

screenshots:

[kokoch4n3l]

DEAD GIRL'S BEACH࿐ྂ KUROKAWA IZANA x f!oc x SANO MANJIRO

THIRTEEN — can't catch me now

"his need for control may stem from underlying fears of abandonment, leading Mr Kurokawa to maintain a tight grip on those around him."—MAYA'S ROUGH NOTES ON K.I

chapter summary: Mikey goes to the Philippines, leaving a trail of bodies behind him. Takemichi returns to the future. Maya keeps her promise to Izana.

warnings: dark content 18+, manga and anime spoilers, multiple character deaths, murder, guns, use of weapons, stabbing, mentions of suicide, blood and gore, depiction of corpses, scars, torture, depiction of wounds, unhealthy attachments, toxic and unhealthy relationships, vomiting, suggestive themes, mental health issues, depression, dark impulses, emotional manipulation, blackmail, corruption, bribery, torture, allusions to sex, suggestive themes, dehumanization, toman + draken slander, slight grandpa sano slander, non-linear narrative in one part, drug use/misuse, mention of overdose, slight emotion incest, funerals, grieving

word count: 13 593

masterlist | previous | bonus 1

The underpass looms overhead like a forgotten relic of urban decay, its walls coated in layers of graffiti and grime. Matsuno Chifuyu stands alone in the dim light, his silhouette cast long against the concrete pavement. He exhales a weary sigh, the weight of the world heavy on his shoulders as he gazes out into the empty expanse before him.

Karma, he thinks bitterly, is nothing more than a fairy tale for the weak-minded. If it were real, Kisaki Tetta would have faced justice long ago for his crimes. But life isn't fair, and justice is a fleeting illusion in a world ruled by power and greed.

Chifuyu's mind drifts back to the events that had led him here, to this empty underpass on a cold, unforgiving night. He remembers the faces of his friends, the ones who had stood by him through thick and thin, the ones who had paid the ultimate price for their loyalty. Baji, Smiley, Angry, Pah-chin, Peh-yan, Hakkai, Kazutora, and now, Maya—they were all gone, lost to him forever in a cruel twist of fate.

They were all gone and now Matsuno Chifuyu stands before Sano "Mikey" Manjiro after 12 years with the muzzle of the latter's gun pointed at him. Chifuyu's heart pounds in his chest as he faces him, his old friend turned bitter enemy. The weight of their shared history hangs heavy in the air, a silent testament to the bonds they once shared and the betrayal that tore them apart. Mikey's gaze is cold and unforgiving, his finger tense on the trigger of the gun and Chifuyu meets his gaze head-on with softness in comparison. He knows that this is the end, that Mikey holds the power to snuff out his life in an instant and he will. Chifuyu knows the cause of his friends' deaths was Mikey. It was obvious, especially with how Kazutora's body was found— stabbed in the same Baji stabbed himself 12 years ago.

Mikey stands before him in black pants, a white shirt and a brown jacket. There is a dragon tattoo on the side of his neck. The tattoo looks fresh. His hair is no longer blonde and tied back like he had it in middle school neither was it short and blonde like it was in high school. His hair is black and styled in a similar way to Baji's. A lump forms in Chifuyu's throat. He can't help but feel a pang of nostalgia for the days when they were just kids, riding their motorcycles through the streets of Tokyo with the wind in their hair and laughter in their hearts. But those days are long gone, replaced by a bitter reality of loss and betrayal.

Mikey's gaze remains cold and distant, his expression unreadable as he holds Chifuyu at gunpoint. There's a tension in the air, thick and suffocating, as the two former friends face each other in the shadowy underpass. Memories of their shared past flood Chifuyu's mind, the good times and the bad, the laughter and the tears.

But there's no room for sentimentality now, not with Mikey's finger hovering dangerously close to the trigger. For a brief moment, Chifuyu sees a glimpse of the boy he once knew buried beneath the layers of anger and resentment. But it's gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced once again by the cold, indifferent facade of the man before him. There is no need to fight. Chifuyu won't try fighting either. Sano Manjiro is here to get something and he will get what he wants like he always does.

Unfortunately, it seems that something is Chifuyu's life.

However, Chifuyu's eyes flutter down toward the necklace Mikey is wearing and his heart drops. Oh. Oh. It's now Chifuyu realizes Maya's necklaces weren't among the retrieved items from her new apartment or the car wreck. It's now he realizes it wasn't a suicide. He was too stupid to figure it out right away— too blinded by his own grief and guilt. The realization hits him like a punch to the gut, leaving him reeling with a sense of profound loss and anger. How could Mikey have done this? How could he have taken Maya away from them, erased her from their lives as if she never existed? The weight of his grief bears down on him, threatening to crush him beneath its suffocating embrace.

He wonders if Maya was tortured to death or if it was quick and painless. He hoped it was painless. Oh god—were the ashes the funeral home gave him even Maya's? Chifuyu can make out a hickey on Mikey's neck and Chifuyu's thoughts run wild with possibilities.

Was Maya alive?

Was she dead?

Why did you kill her Mikey?

There is so much Chifuyu wants to ask as he looks back at Mikey's cold eyes but it all remains unsaid. Instead, he finds himself thinking back to Takemichi and his wild tales of time travel. In their younger years, Chifuyu had found solace in the idea that maybe, just maybe, there was a way to change their fate, to rewrite the tragic events that had torn their lives apart. But as time passed and Takemichi drifted away, those hopes faded into nothing more than childish fantasies. Now, faced with the harsh reality of their situation, Chifuyu can't help but feel a pang of bitterness at the thought of what could have been. Time travel or not, they were trapped in a never-ending cycle of violence and betrayal, with no hope of escape.

In the shadow of uncertainty, with the weight of his grief heavy upon him, Chifuyu finds himself grappling with a newfound sense of acceptance. Death no longer holds the same grip of fear over him that it once did. Instead, it looms before him as a distant inevitability, an end to the suffering and turmoil that has plagued him for so long.

Takemichi's words echo in the recesses of his mind, stirring a flicker of hope amidst the darkness that threatens to consume him. For a brief moment, Chifuyu allows himself to entertain the possibility that maybe, just maybe, there is a chance for redemption, a chance to set right the wrongs of the past. But even as he clings to this fragile hope, Chifuyu knows that the road ahead will be fraught with danger and uncertainty. There are no guarantees, no promises of a happy ending. All he can do is face whatever comes his way with courage and determination.  "Got any last words Chifuyu?" Mikey asks

As Mikey's voice cuts through the heavy silence, breaking the tension like a sharp blade, Chifuyu's thoughts are pulled back to the present moment. The cold steel of the gun pressed against his skin serves as a grim reminder of the imminent threat he faces. "do you remember Hanagaki Takemichi?" Chifuyu asks, his voice shaking a little "Someday, he'll come looking for you... He'll be like how he was back then as if he'd travelled through time"

The gun still doesn't move from between his brows as Chifuyu continues. "Look closely into his eyes... His eyes never lie..."

For a moment, time seems to stand still as Mikey's finger on the trigger twitches, the weight of their shared history bearing down upon them. And then, with a final flicker of resolve, Chifuyu utters his last words, a quiet yet resolute plea with tear-filled eyes: "Trust him."

BANG

Mikey's reflection stares back at him with an unsettling emptiness, his gaze fixed on the figure in the mirror as he methodically trims his own hair. Each snip of the scissors echoes through the silent room, punctuated only by the sound of Sanzu's laboured breathing behind him.

Sanzu lies sprawled on the floor, a pool of crimson spreading beneath him like a macabre canvas of despair. His eyes, once filled with unwavering loyalty and devotion, now gaze blankly at the ceiling, a silent testament to the price of allegiance in a world ruled by power and violence.

Mikey's hands move with practiced precision, the sharp blade of the scissors slicing through his hair with a detached sense of detachment. His mind is a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, a tempest of guilt, and regret that threatens to consume him from within. Mikey's hands falter for a moment as he catches sight of Sanzu's prone form in the mirror, his reflection juxtaposed against the stark reality of the scene behind him. But the moment passes as quickly as it came, and he returns his attention to the task at hand with a detached sense of detachment.

There are no words exchanged between them, no last-minute pleas for mercy or forgiveness. Only the quiet acceptance of their roles in this cruel dance of fate played out against the backdrop of their shared history and the bonds that bind them together.

Sanzu Haruchiyo, the man— boy— he scarred as a child over a damn toy airplane. Tore the corners of his mouth and then force him to smile. Oh god, Mikey didn't deserve Haruchiyo. Maybe that's why Mikey killed him. He remembers the boy he used to be, full of mischief and laughter, before the weight of their world came crashing down upon them like a tidal wave. And he remembers Sanzu, always by his side, loyal to a fault, even when Mikey didn't deserve it. Mikey looks away and continue cutting his hair, pushing back the need to vomit when he sees Shinichiro in place of his own reflection. He trembles as he puts down the scissors and pushes his hair back into a middle part in hopes to look different than his deceased older brother.

He does. It works. Mikey doesn't bother to pick his hair off the floor or to get rid of any evidence. Mikey steps away from the mirror, his gaze lingering on his reflection for a moment longer before he turns and walks away, leaving the blood-stained scene behind him without a second glance.  The police already know it's him behind the serial murders. There was only so much Tokyo Manji Gang's influence could cover and now that he was off doing what he wanted, people were no longer listening. It would take a while for Izana and Kisaki to realize he was no longer in the country and even longer for the police to figure that out.

Mikey is in the Philippines, the air is warm in comparison to Japan right now. As Mikey steps out into the bustling streets of Manila, he allows himself to breathe, to simply exist in the present moment without the burden of his past weighing him down. The neon lights of the city flicker overhead, casting an ethereal glow over the bustling streets below.

"Hair holds memory. That's why I cut my hair after Chifuyu broke my heart. It made me feel better"

That's what Maya told him. Mikey agreed of course. After Emma died and Izana cut his hair for him, he felt better.

So now that he has murdered all his friends, Mikey cuts his hair again.

He thinks about their deaths for a moment before he leaves the motel.

First came the twins then Peh-yan, followed by Pah-chin. No one fought for their life. Or well they did but Mikey could tell they had already given up the moment they began.

Next came Hakkai. The warehouse he lured him to set ablaze with ease and Hakkai never tried to escape, simply looking up at him with nostalgia.

After that was Kazutora, he fought. Tried telling Mikey that what he was doing wasn't fair after figuring out it was he who was responsible for Maya's death. Kazutora fought back but quickly gave up, bleeding out on the floor of his apartment, staring up at Mikey with eyes filled with sadness.

Then was Chifuyu. A quick shot between the brows and it was done.

Mitsuya was next. He didn't fight much either as Mikey strangled him.

Last was Draken. Stabbed him right through the heart. Draken fought back. Kind of. But he quickly gave in.

Haruchiyo simply kneeled before him the moment Mikey pulled out the gun and pointed it at him.

All of them did.

Why?

Their life was his to keep and his to take.

For Sano "Mikey" Manjiro is the sun, the center of the universe, and like the sun, his gravitational pull is too strong for anyone to resist and too powerful for anyone to survive.

As his vision clears Takemichi looks around. The first thing he does is pat around his pockets to feel for his phone. Seeing it's an iPhone and not a flip phone it confirms he's back in the present. Wednesday, January 10, 2018, 11:47 am. He's come back 12 years to where he belongs. The last time he was here he was in jail which meant the timeline was successfully changed. So, was Hina safe? Chifuyu, Pah-chin, Peh-yan, Draken, Mitsuya? Were they all okay? "Hanagaki-kun?" A female voice says from behind him

Takemichi turns around and sees a girl. She looks familiar but he can't remember exactly where he knows her from. She bows a little. "Thank you very much for coming here during such a busy time" she stands up straight "Please this way"

Upon arrival, Takemichi is greeted by a solemn atmosphere, the weight of grief heavy in the air. His heart quickens as he tries to piece together the puzzle before him. Who is being mourned here? The receptionists look familiar, undoubtedly related to the deceased, but Takemichi's mind struggles to make sense of the situation. "Thank you for coming to my brother's" the girl chokes up "My brother's..."

The second girl takes over. "Please go inside" she directs him

Takemichi's confusion intensifies, his anxiety mounting with each passing moment. But it's when he hears their words— "Keep it together Mana!"

"Sorry Luna" —that a sinking feeling settles in the pit of his stomach.

Luna?

Mana?

Brother...

Takemichi's steps falter as he enters the funeral house, his heart pounding in his chest. And then, he sees it—the altar adorned with candles and flowers, a solemn tribute to the departed. And there, amidst the somber display, is a picture of Mitsuya Takashi.

A funeral honouring the dead.

Takemichi runs. He runs and runs down the streets pulling out his phone to find out what happened. He couldn't talk to Luna and Mana. He had to find Naoto. The internet gives him more questions than answers

Former Tokyo Manji Gang Admin Mitsuya's remains found, murder suspected

Mitsuya-san's Murdered Body Discovered, culprit unknown

The headlines blur before his eyes, each one a stab to his already shattered heart. He doesn't understand. He changed the past—everyone should be alive. But as he searches for Hinata's name, the cruel reality hits him like a freight train. He searches for Hinata's name next.

Tachibana Hinata(26) Dies in Car Accident, Motorcycle Gang Suspected

Hina died the same way. Nothing changed. Takemichi's breath catches in his throat as he grapples with the devastating truth. He's back in the same dingy apartment, the penthouse a distant dream. Something went wrong—no, Takemichi went wrong. The weight of his failure crushes him as he stares at a photo taken with the other Toman captains, a painful reminder of what should have been. His heart hurts. How could this happen? "So here you are," A familiar voice says "I've been looking for you"

Tears fill Takemichi's eyes as he sees Tachibana Naoto come through the door. He stands up and runs toward the younger boy hugging him tight. The memory of his death in the previous time makes him cry and the events of this timeline make him bawl. Once Takemichi has calmed down Naoto starts explaining this future. "You've time-leaped into the past multiple time in your attempt to save my sister. This is the worst future that's happened yet" Naoto tells him "Of course, nē-chan wasn't saved... And all the chief members of Tokyo Manji Gang have been killed"

Takemichi thinks he's going to throw up. "Killed?"

Naoto nods. "Shiba Hakkai burned to death. Mitsuya Takashi strangled. Ryuguji Ken, Stabbed. Matsuno Chifuyu, shot in the head" He pauses "Hayashida Haruki, Hayashi Ryōhei, Kawata Nahoya, Kawata Souya, Shiba Hakkai and Hanemiya Kazutora... Even Kisaki Tetta was killed"

Takemichi lets out a gasp. "Even Kisaki...? Everyone is dead...?"

"The suspect is still at large," Naoto informs him. "We don't even have a clue as to where he might be."

"What about Mikey-kun?! Was Mikey-kun murdered too?! What about him?!" Takemichi's voice trembles with fear.

Naoto hesitates, his gaze falling away. "Mikey..." He takes a deep breath before continuing. "The wanted criminal for these serial murders is Sano Manjiro."

Takemichi is going to be sick. "Could dial down the jokes a freakin' notch? There's no way he'd...!!" Seeing Naoto look away makes Takemichi confront the cruel reality presented toward him "I want to meet Mikey and talk to him"

"Takemichi-kun, I want to know the truth too. You're the one that can do that. As a former Toman admin and the only one still alive. It's only you left who can see him" Naoto tells him

Takemichi doesn't understand. What happened that caused such a great change in the timeline? Everyone was dead. Everyone. "I eliminated the two people who could have caused Toman to go evil. The Black Dragons were defeated and Kisaki got thrown out of Toman! EVERYTHING SHOULD HAVE ENDED UP FINE!!"

Takemichi and Naoto find a letter. It wasn't from Japan but from the Philippines. A conversation with Mikey he had in the past floods through his mind. It was while Mikey was teaching him how to ride the bike he gifted him. The one with the twin engine like his CB250T. Mikey said his brother found it in the Philippines. "Mikey is in the Philippines." Takemichi says firmly

Mikey's past is dotted with countless encounters with pretty girls, and numerous relationships that flickered and faded like distant stars. But amidst the myriad of faces that have come and gone, it's Kaneko Maya who holds a special place in his heart.

Maya wasn't just another conquest or fleeting romance for Mikey. There was something different about her, something that made her stand out from the rest. Perhaps it was her innocence, her vulnerability that drew him in, or maybe it was the way she looked at him with those wide, trusting eyes as if he held the world in his hands and put the stars up in the sky.

Whatever it was, Mikey found himself drawn to Maya in a way he couldn't quite explain. She brought out a side of him that he rarely showed to anyone else—gentle, caring, almost tender. With Maya, he felt a sense of peace and contentment that he had never experienced before.

Maya was gorgeous. Like a doll almost. Those expensive ones Emma used to play with. The limited edition ones with their pretty clothes and perfectly done hair. Maya's skin was perfect even with the faint freckles on her cheeks. Her skin was warm and soft to the touch. Her hair was silky smooth with fluffy curls and her eyes...

Oh her eyes.

Maya's eyes were gorgeous. They were filled with so much emotion— so much love, sadness, grief. He doesn't think he's ever seen more expressive eyes. Or well, he has but that wasn't the point right now.

The point was that he had killed the girl of his dreams. A shot through the heart and she hit the sand with a thud. She didn't move after that. Mikey had dropped the gun and he felt like his own heart was going to stop. It was an accident. He didn't mean to shoot her. She was just running and wouldn't stop after he called for her. It was stupid of him to do so. Maya wouldn't have been able to get anywhere in the first place. There was nothing for miles and just long endless stretches of beaches. He killed her and it was for nothing. 

After all, Maya's death was just the beginning. he voice in his head had whispered to him, urging him to rid himself of anyone who might leave him, anyone who might betray him in the future. And he had listened, giving in to the darkness that lurked within him.

The stupid voice in his head won and now he was alone. So, he listened to the voice and killed the rest of his friends too. All the friends that left him. Even Haruchiyo because what if he left him in the future? Sure Haruchiyo stayed but what if he left later? He wouldn't stay forever according to that voice in Mikey's head so he had to kill Haruchiyo before he could leave.

But now, as he stands alone in the aftermath of his own destruction, Mikey can't help but wonder if it was worth it. Was it worth sacrificing everything he held dear for the sake of his own selfish desires? The answer, he knows, is no. Nothing could ever justify what he had done, the lives he had taken, the hearts he had broken.

His fingers curl around the necklace he pulled off her cold dead body— the necklace with the engraving of a daffodil in the pendant. How fucking fitting he took this and not the other one. Daffodils, also known as narcissus, from the Greek mythological story of a young man so beautiful he pined for his own reflection and turned into a daffodil. That whole story showed there was a fine line between love and obsession and it was fucking fitting he took this necklace instead of the one with the butterfly. Mikey was horrible. He was a horrible fucking person.

All his life had been suffering.

From the death of his dad, his mom, Shinichiro, Baji and Emma.

Each time Mikey has been suffering.

He doesn't think he properly mourned Baji or Emma. He wasn't allowed to. It was the curse of being the strongest. When you're at the top, you're alone. Everyone thinks he isn't capable of emotion but he is. Mikey swears he is. He loves everyone. He loves all of them, even the ones he killed.

He loved Maya. Oh god he loved her and she loved him back, didn't she? Mikey finds himself grappling with a different kind of anguish—the anguish of unexpressed love. Maya's absence weighs heavily on his heart, her memory haunting him like a ghost. He replays their moments together in his mind, each one a bittersweet reminder of what could have been.

He loved Maya, of that he's certain. In her, he found a kindred spirit, someone who saw past the facade of the fearsome gang leader to the vulnerable boy beneath. And Maya had shown him a love he had never known before.

But now she's gone, taken from him in a senseless act of violence. And Mikey can't help but wonder if she ever knew how much he truly cared for her. Did she feel the depth of his love, the intensity of his longing? Or did she leave this world believing she was just another casualty in the endless cycle of pain and loss?

The thought gnaws at him, consuming him from the inside out. He wishes he could turn back time, and rewrite the script so he didn't shoot her. But he knows that's just wishful thinking, a futile fantasy in a world where reality reigns supreme.

Mikey thought Izana would be angry. He really did. But as Mikey sobbed Izana had held him silently and ran his fingers through his hair. Izana simply hugged him. For all his faults and flaws, Izana has always been there for Mikey, a steadfast pillar of support in a world filled with chaos and uncertainty.

Everyone left him all while telling him that relying on Izana wasn't a good thing but it wasn't like any of them gave him any other choice. Mikey would have died years ago had it not been for Izana. So why was everyone so mad at him? They did this to him. They didn't let him mourn. They put all the pressure on his shoulders. Everyone had abandoned him, leaving him to shoulder the weight of their expectations and demands alone. They had pushed Mikey to the brink, refusing to acknowledge the toll their actions had taken on his fragile psyche. So why are they blaming him for turning out the way he did when all he was doing was trying his best?

Mikey ran that night with Haruchiyo. Left Okinawa for Tokyo and so began his murder spree. Mikey couldn't get himself to look at Izana, fearing his brother's actual reaction the next morning. What if Izana actually left him this time like he always threatened to do? Mikey couldn't have that so he ran first.

Ending up in Manila and sending Takemichi that letter was a spontaneous decision but he realized there was one more left to kill— the first to leave him.

Takemichi went to the Philippines with Naoto. The letter contained a message and an address. He knew right away it was from Mikey. There was no doubt about it. He was standing in front of the run-down building despite the dangers Naoto told him about. If Mikey killed the others, he could kill him too. But there was no guarantee Mikey was in there. However, if he is then it'll be the first time in any of Takemichi's time leaps to the present that he'll be meeting Mikey. As Takemichi walks through the ruins of the building he wonders what Mikey of the future was like. What was he going to say to him? Mikey no doubt changed after 12 years— he killed everyone so that means something. He might kill Takemichi the second they meet. Takemichi gulps at the thought. He turns the corner and remembers Mikey's words about the engine.

It was beneath a suffocating gray sky. In a building abandoned with the ceiling collapsed under a huge scrap pile.

Looking around Takemichi realizes this was the place Mikey's brother found the CB250T engines. "Takemitchy?" A voice calls startling him

Startled, he followed the sound and there he was—Sano Manjiro. Despite the years that had passed, Mikey's eyes held the same intensity. His appearance had changed—his hair was now black, cut short with an undercut, and he bore Draken's dragon tattoo on the side of his neck and a gold necklace. Mikey exuded maturity and confidence, a stark contrast to the boy Takemichi once knew. Finally, Takemichi stood face-to-face with the future Mikey for the first time since he started time leaping. "Um... Have you been well?" Takemichi stumbled over his words, unsure of what to say.

Mikey's smile was warm and familiar. "Yeah," he replied simply.

Takemichi thinks he's gonna cry. No, he just starts to cry. "I'm sorry" he cried

"Still a crybaby that hasn't changed huh" Mikey says with a smile and stands up "I brought you here because I have a favour to ask you"

"huh?"

"I came here to remember my memories with my big brother. I'm overwhelmed with many memories. When I was young I fought with many people. I learned a few things, laughed, and cried too. That's how I grew with Toman." Mikey smiles sweetly at Takemichi "It makes me nostalgic"

"Mikey" Takemichi whispers

He knew it. Mikey couldn't have killed them. No way. Not after everything. Mikey looks up at the sky. "Toman has changed a lot, Takemitchy" He says "Why did you leave Toman? I wanted us to stay together. I wanted you to stay with me like a big brother would..."

"w-what?"

Takemichi stands in disbelief as he absorbs Mikey's words, his mind reeling with confusion and guilt. How could he have left Toman in this future? The realization hits him like a ton of bricks, a stark reminder of the consequences of his actions and the ripple effect they've had on the lives of everyone around him. "I tried to fix everything by myself. Tried to save her. But I couldn't control everything. I'm never gonna be like I was in the past" Mikey says with a solemn look on his face

Takemichi's breath catches in his throat as he listens to Mikey's solemn words, each syllable weighing heavily on his conscience like a leaden burden. The gravity of the situation dawns on him with crushing force, the realization that his actions have altered the course of fate sinking in deeper with each passing moment. "Mikey, what do you mean?"

Mikey's gaze is piercing, his eyes reflecting the weight of the burden he carries. "I tried to stop you from quitting Toman but Ken-chin and Mitsuya stopped me"

Takemichi feels sick again. "That means that... Those two..."

"They were the last to leave Toman and I'm the one who killed everyone. That Toman no longer exists. The guys are... and everyone... I killed them" Mikey tells him "That's why I want you to stop me. Kill me Takemitchy. I want it to all end here"

Takemichi's mind races as he grapples with the enormity of Mikey's request. Kill him? The thought is unimaginable, unthinkable. But as he looks into Mikey's eyes, he sees the pain and anguish that he carries, the burden of his past sins weighing heavily upon him. "What are you talking about, Mikey? Stop. I don't get it," Takemichi stammers, his voice trembling with emotion. Tears blur his vision as he looks into Mikey's piercing gaze, searching for answers in the depths of those haunted eyes. "You ask me to kill you right after we meet. But me, I just wanted to see you again."

"I just wanted to see you again" Mikey repeats, his voice tinged with a macabre sort of melancholy. "Hakkai also said something like that the moment he died"

"The moment he was dying...?" he echoes, his voice barely a whisper as the weight of Mikey's words settles like a stone in the pit of his stomach.

Mikey's gaze drifts upward, his eyes fixated on the vast expanse of the sky above them. "It's hard to achieve his dream," he murmurs, his voice heavy with resignation. "Open a new era. Toman was on the right track, and suddenly everything ended like this."

"Like... this?" Takemichi's voice trembles with uncertainty as he seeks clarification, his heart pounding with apprehension.

Mikey's lips curl into a bitter smile, but there's a glint of something unsettling in his eyes. "When I killed for the first time, I didn't feel anything," he confesses, his words laced with a chilling nonchalance. "And I thought that the difficulties of this world can be fixed with murder. All is well when you eliminate those who get in your way."

The casualness with which Mikey speaks of murder sends a shiver down Takemichi's spine. Anger boils within him, fueling a surge of defiance as he confronts his former friend. "This isn't right!" Takemichi's voice rises in protest, his fists clenching in frustration. "You can't just—"

Before Takemichi can finish his sentence, Mikey lunges forward, seizing the front of Takemichi's shirt and slamming him forcefully into the rubble below. The impact knocks the breath from Takemichi's lungs, leaving him gasping for air as he stares up at Mikey in shock. "What part of this do you not understand?" Mikey's voice is low and menacing, his grip tightening on Takemichi's shirt. He presses the cold muzzle of a gun against Takemichi's cheek, the metal chilling against his skin. "Take that gun, Takemichi. If you don't kill me, you'll be the one that dies."

Takemichi's tear-filled eyes reflect the turmoil raging within him, but before he can even process the overwhelming emotions, he notices tears cascading down Mikey's face. The rhythmic pattern of tears falling on Takemichi's cheeks echoes in the tense silence, each drop a poignant reminder of the anguish they both carry. As Mikey gazes down at Takemichi, his tear-streaked face is a portrait of sorrow and regret. Despite the gravity of the situation, Takemichi remains frozen, his gaze fixed on Mikey's trembling form. The gun lies untouched beside him, a silent witness to the heart-wrenching scene unfolding before him. "We can't go back in time," Mikey's voice is heavy with resignation, the words hanging in the air like an unspoken truth.

And then, in a sudden motion, he collapses to his side, the sound of a gunshot ringing out through the desolate surroundings. "Are you okay, Takemichi?!" Naoto's voice pierces through the chaos, his concern palpable as he rushes to Takemichi's side.

Shock and disbelief grip Takemichi as he registers the scene before him. Blood stains the ground, a crimson pool forming around Mikey's motionless form. Naoto's gun trembles in his hand, the realization of what he's done sinking in. "Mikey!!" Takemichi's voice is raw with panic and desperation as he scrambles to Mikey's side, his hands trembling as he reaches out to his fallen friend.

"TAKEMICHI, DON'T GO NEAR HIM!!" Naoto's voice rings out in a frantic plea, the urgency clear in his tone. But his words hang in the air, halted by the sight of the gun that lies discarded at Mikey's side.

The safety catch remains engaged—a small detail that sends a shiver of realization down Naoto's spine. "He never... intended to kill him?" Naoto's voice wavers with horror as the implications of the situation begin to dawn on him. 

Meanwhile, Takemichi's cries echo through the desolate surroundings as he kneels beside Mikey's growingly cold body, his grief palpable in the air. "Tachibana Naoto..." Mikey's voice is weak, barely a whisper in the stillness. "Takemichi would've never been able to kill me."

The weight of Mikey's words hangs heavy in the air, each syllable laden with the weight of a lifetime of suffering. Takemichi's breath comes in ragged gasps as he struggles to process the enormity of the moment. "No, Mikey! Don't say that!" Takemichi's voice trembles with desperation, tears streaming down his face. "I can still change it. I can change the past. I can start all over again! I would do anything to change the future. I don't want to... I'm not gonna give up! Don't say such sad things."

A bittersweet smile graces Mikey's lips, his gaze distant as his strength begins to wane. "Thanks, Takemitchy," he murmurs softly, his words tinged with gratitude. "Your words comforted me. Even if you're telling me lies... I'm happy." As the cold embrace of death envelops him, Mikey's voice grows faint. "Takemitchy... Your hand is... so warm. Just like hers."

And with those final words, the chapter of Sano Manjiro's life comes to a close. On January 20th, 2018, amidst an altercation with a Japanese police officer, Tachibana Naoto, in Manila, Philippines, Sano Manjiro breathed his last breath, leaving behind a legacy of pain, regret, and untold stories.

On January 20th, 2018, Hanagaki Takemichi goes back to the past.

Now back in Japan, as Naoto sifts through the evidence, a heavyweight settles in his chest. The scene is eerily reminiscent of the others he's investigated, each one bearing the same haunting resemblance—a life cut short, a story left unfinished. Sanzu Haruchiyo's body lies in stark contrast to the chaos that often accompanies violent crimes. There are no signs of struggle, no desperate attempt to fight for survival. Instead, there's a sense of resignation, an acceptance of fate that speaks volumes about the relationship between Sanzu and Manjiro.

Naoto's mind races as he contemplates the implications of what he's uncovered. Sanzu, the most loyal of them all, had met his end at the hands of his childhood friend, Sano Manjiro. It's a grim reality that Naoto struggles to come to terms with—a testament to the darkness that lurks beneath the surface of even the closest relationships.

He remembers all the times he met Sano Manjiro as a kid, finding the older man too childish to be a leader. But now, now he can believe it. Now, the invincible Mikey lies in the morgue in the basement of the hospital, waiting for his family to come and claim his body, but not without taking a few lives before that. 

Mikey's demise was not the result of a violent struggle or a battle with a formidable adversary. Instead, it was a deliberate choice—a final act of defiance in the face of a world that had grown increasingly dark and unforgiving.

What exactly was it that made Mikey want to die so bad?

So many questions but so few answers. It's then that Naoto's eyes shift onto something glimmering among the evidence. It feels like his heart is in his throat as he picks up the plastic baggie in the tray with Mikey's wallet and other belongings. His fingers tremble as he puts on latex gloves and opens up the translucent bag and pulls the gold necklace out. Naoto's eyes drift over to the report from the Diener saying that this necklace is what Sano Manjiro was wearing. Naoto feels sick. He knows it. He recognizes it. It was hard not to since it wasn't among the evidence retrieved with Maya's body—

—so what the fuck was it doing around Sano Manjiro's neck?

Naoto's mind races with a flurry of unanswered questions as he stares at the gold necklace clutched tightly in his gloved hand. The glimmering pendant seems to taunt him, a silent reminder of the mysteries that still shroud Mikey's final moments. With trembling fingers, Naoto carefully examines the necklace, his heart pounding in his chest as he tries to make sense of the unsettling discovery. How could Mikey, the enigmatic leader of the Tokyo Manji Gang, be connected to Maya's necklace? And more importantly, what could it possibly signify?

As he scrutinizes the intricate design and delicate craftsmanship, memories of Maya flood Naoto's mind—her gentle smile, her laughter, the warmth of her embrace. But now, as Naoto stands on the precipice of a chilling revelation, he can't shake the gnawing sense of dread that grips him. There's something deeply unsettling about the idea of Mikey wearing Maya's necklace, something that hints at a connection far more sinister than he dares to imagine.

Was he right then? Was that body they mourned not Maya's but someone else's? Had Maya really been alive this whole time? 

There is a sense of accomplishment in Naoto for knowing his gut feeling had been right about Tokyo Manji Gang being involved in Maya's disappearance but he feels queasy again realizing he was right. 

Maya was alive and she had been taken by the Tokyo Manji Gang. 

The bile that rises in Naoto's throat is not just from the grim realization of Maya's fate but also from the haunting possibilities of what she might have endured at the hands of her captors. The mere thought of her suffering sends a shiver down his spine.

Sano "Mikey" Manjiro is dead and he just murdered all his friends. He doubts Maya is still alive. She may have been before but not anymore. She couldn't be. If Sano Manjiro died wearing her necklace, there was no way Kaneko Maya was still alive. Tears well up in his eyes. Naoto hadn't cried when Maya's 'body' was discovered. Back then even before he found out that her necklaces were among the belongings, perhaps he had a gut feeling that wasn't her. But now he knows she's dead. 

As Naoto grapples with the grim reality of Maya's fate, a heavyweight settles in his chest, suffocating him with a sense of overwhelming grief and despair. The thought that Maya may have endured unimaginable suffering at the hands of her captors is almost too much to bear, threatening to crush him beneath its crushing weight.

Sano "Mikey" Manjiro's death and the revelation of his heinous actions only add to Naoto's anguish. The fact that he wore Maya's necklace in his final moments serves as a chilling reminder of the darkness that had consumed him, a darkness that ultimately led to the demise of not only Maya but also all of their friends.

Tears blur Naoto's vision as he struggles to come to terms with the devastating truth. He had hoped against hope that Maya might still be alive, clinging to the faint possibility that she had somehow survived the ordeal. But now, faced with the undeniable evidence of her death, he feels a profound sense of loss and regret wash over him.

As Naoto sifts through the evidence, his mind races with questions, each one more unsettling than the last. What could have led Maya into the clutches of someone like Sano Manjiro and the Tokyo Manji Gang? Had she unknowingly crossed paths with dangerous individuals, or was there something more sinister at play?

The faded love bites and scratches on Mikey's body only serve to deepen the mystery, hinting at a tumultuous and perhaps intimate relationship between him and Maya. But the thought of Maya being subjected to such treatment fills Naoto with a profound sense of unease and disgust. It's a possibility he can barely bring himself to contemplate. Perhaps Maya had stumbled into the gang's territory by accident, or maybe she had been targeted for some other reason altogether. Whatever the case, the mere thought of her being caught up in the violent world of the Tokyo Manji Gang sends a chill down Naoto's spine.

Just what had his sister and Maya done for them to deserve death?

Takemichi comes back to the future barely a week later with news. "I see... So if Kisaki truly is a timeleaper... We have to kill him" Naoto says lowly with a dark look on his face

Takemichi had explained his theory of Kisaki Tetta possibly being a timeleaper but this surely wasn't what he expected to hear back from Naoto. "Eh? B-But Naoto—"

"There's no point in all this if he keeps messing up the things you've fixed" Naoto says seriously, leaning back in his chair "Therefore killing him in the past is the only way"

Takemichi's breath catches in his throat, his mind reeling at the implications of Naoto's words. The idea of taking a life, even Kisaki's, fills him with a profound sense of dread and unease. "No way!"

"I'm kidding" he says dismissively, but Takemichi can't shake the feeling that there's truth in his words.

"Naoto! Can you please read the situation?!"

As Naoto rises from his chair, the creak of the furniture echoes through the room, adding to the heavy atmosphere that surrounds them. Takemichi's gaze follows Naoto's movements, his heart pounding with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity. The whiteboard looms before them, a visual representation of their investigation, adorned with a collage of photographs, newspaper clippings, and scattered notes. "I wonder what the hell Kisaki was aiming for..." Naoto's voice is a low murmur, barely audible above the sound of their own breathing. 

His brow furrows in concentration as he studies the array of evidence before him, his fingers tracing over the photographs and articles with a sense of purpose. Takemichi's eyes flicker across the whiteboard, searching for any clues that might shed light on Kisaki's motives. And then, amidst the chaos of images and text, something catches his eye—a photograph of a girl, tucked away in the corner of the board, connected to Mikey's picture by a drawn arrow. The girl in the photo has an ethereal beauty, with porcelain skin, piercing blue eyes, and long, black hair cascading around her shoulders. Despite the solemnity of the situation, her radiant smile seems to leap off the page, drawing Takemichi's attention like a magnet. "Kaneko... Maya...?" Takemichi's voice is tinged with confusion and concern as he points to the photograph. 

His mind races with questions, wondering who this girl is and what connection she has to their investigation since he doesn't remember meeting anyone with that name in the past. Naoto's frown deepens, his expression growing sombre as he meets Takemichi's gaze. "Just a casualty of this timeline," he replies gravely, his voice heavy with regret. "She was never a part of the other timelines, so you don't have to worry about her."

Takemichi's heart sinks at Naoto's words, a pang of sadness washing over him as he realizes the tragic fate that has befallen this unknown girl. Despite his relief that she wasn't involved in their past endeavours, the knowledge that she had become a victim of the tangled web of events in this timeline only serves to deepen his sense of despair. Takemichi's eyes dart back to the whiteboard, scanning the array of cut-outs and clippings with a newfound intensity. Among the myriad of images, another photograph catches his attention—a striking portrait of a man with an enigmatic gaze and an air of undeniable charisma. Beneath the image, the name "Kurokawa Izana" is printed in bold letters, sending a ripple of recognition through Takemichi's mind.

"Kurokawa... Izana?" Takemichi murmurs to himself, his brow furrowing in perplexity as he tries to piece together the puzzle before him. 

The name triggers a memory, a fragment of a conversation from a past encounter that resurfaces in his mind with startling clarity. He recalls the warehouse in Yokohama, the chaotic scene unfolding before him as Tenjiku's assault on Toman Division reaches its peak. Amidst the chaos, a fleeting mention of a certain Kurokawa Izana lingers in Takemichi's memory, a name uttered in hushed tones by Kakucho, as if shrouded in secrecy and intrigue. "Kurokawa Izana... Tenjiku's leader?" Takemichi's voice is laced with confusion as he speaks aloud, the pieces of the puzzle beginning to slot into place in his mind.

Turning to Naoto for answers, Takemichi seeks clarification on the identity of this mysterious figure. "Naoto, who's Kurokawa Izana?" he inquires, his tone tinged with a sense of urgency.

Naoto's response is swift, his voice carrying a note of authority as he imparts his knowledge on the subject. "Oh, he's one of Toman's top brass. I heard he was Black Dragon's leader too," Naoto explains, his words punctuated by a furrow of his brows as he contemplates the significance of this revelation.

Takemichi's confusion deepens at Naoto's words, his mind struggling to reconcile the conflicting information. "But there are no records of a gang called Tenjiku" Naoto continues, his expression betraying a hint of frustration at the lack of clarity surrounding the situation.

Takemichi feels a surge of frustration welling up within him, a sense of helplessness washing over him as he grapples with the discrepancies between the past and present. The information he possesses from his previous experiences feels obsolete in the face of this new reality. "If you're saying in the past this guy is Tenjiku's captain then it seems that he's important to investigate on" Naoto says in a serious tone and Takemichi agrees

Takemichi and Naoto part ways after that to get some clues. It's how he ended up at the Church where he fought Shiba Taiju. He was wondering what Inupi and Koko were doing and it eventually led him to said church. He met Taiju there and asked to talk to him. Takemichi called Naoto up and Naoto showed up at the Church. They end up at a restaurant Taiju owned. "listen here" Tajiu says "I don't give a shit about cooperating with the cops but through Hakkai, I too have connections with Toman. So it's an exchange of information. I want to know what the cops know as well. Whatever we discuss stays here"

"Understood" Naoto replies with a respectful nod, his demeanor serious and attentive.

"So... You want to know about Kurokawa Izana and the Black Dragons right?" Taiju asks

"Kurokawa Izana is the captain of Tenjiku isn't he?" Takemichi ventures, seeking clarification on the matter "Why did he become Black Dragons Captain and how did he end up in Toman?"

Taiju's laughter rings out, accompanied by the soft glow of his cigarette. "You're mistaken"

Takemichi cocks his head like a puppy in confusion. "eh?"

"You got it in the wrong order" Taiju blows out a puff of smoke "First let's start with Black Dragons. I was the commander of the 10th generation, you remember that much right?"

"yes"

"Do you know who created Black Dragons?" Taiju asks and takes another drag of his cigarette

"Who?" Takemichi is going to be honest, he didn't know much about gangs, not even the one he was in

"The first-generation captain is Sano Shinichiro," Taiju reveals, his voice tinged with a note of reverence as he speaks of the gang's origins. "The one that started it all was Mikey's brother."

Takemichi's eyes widen in astonishment at the revelation, his mind racing to process the implications of Taiju's words. "Mikey's brother?" he echoes, the pieces of the puzzle beginning to fall into place in his mind.

As memories of Mikey's anecdotes about his brother flood his thoughts, Takemichi finds himself grappling with the weight of this newfound knowledge. "The first generation of Black Dragons was legendary," Taiju continues, his voice tinged with a sense of reverence for the gang's storied history. "The second and third generations continue to hold that. Eventually, the baton was passed down to Kurokawa Izana, the eighth-generation captain."

"The eighth generation... That means he was there before you," Takemichi observes, his mind racing to connect the dots between the past and present.

Toman was formed when the ninth generation was around, which meant the eighth generation predates the gang's inception. "So, Kurokawa Izana must be older than you," Takemichi concludes, his tone tinged with a sense of realization as he pieces together the timeline of events.

"Yup, two years older, the S62 generation," Taiju confirms, his voice carrying a note of authority as he elaborates on the gang's hierarchical structure.

The mention of the S62 generation triggers a flicker of recognition in Takemichi's mind, a realization dawning upon him with startling clarity. "S62? Tenjiku's members!" he exclaims, his eyes widening in realization as the pieces of the puzzle fall into place.

"Kurokawa Izana retired from Black Dragons and made Tenjiku three years later," Taiju continues, his voice tinged with a note of solemnity as he recounts the events that shaped the gang's tumultuous history. "Fucked Toman over, and then the Kanto Incident happened."

Kanto Incident. Kisaki said that to him at the beginning of Tenjiku's ambushes 12 years ago. "Who won, Toman or Tenjiku?" he inquires, his voice tinged with a sense of trepidation as he braces himself for the answer.

Taiju's response is grim, his expression clouded with a shadow of regret as he recounts the outcome of the fateful confrontation. "You should know since you were there, but I'll answer your question anyway," he replies, his tone tinged with a note of resignation. "Tenjiku won. As a result, Sano Manjiro at the top, Kisaki Tetta as number two, and Kurokawa Izana as number three..."

The revelation sends a chill down Takemichi's spine, his mind reeling with the implications of Taiju's words. "But yeah, Kisaki is dead," he interjects, a note of uncertainty creeping into his voice as he attempts to reconcile the conflicting reports surrounding Kisaki's fate.

Taiju's response is cryptic, his gaze lingering on Takemichi with an intensity that borders on scrutiny. "Is he really dead, Tachibana Naoto?" he muses, his words laced with an undercurrent of skepticism.

Naoto's expression tightens, a flicker of unease crossing his features as he weighs his response carefully. "I've investigated things about Kurokawa Izana," he begins, his voice measured as he addresses the looming spectre of uncertainty. "He somehow has a huge amount of influence in the police. Kurokawa is much bigger than we first thought."

Taiju's chuckle is mirthless, a sardonic twist of his lips betraying his amusement at the irony of the situation. "Kisaki was made to be dead, right?"

"Murder, assault, theft. Kisaki was alleged with various crimes, so he escaped overseas. It seems there was a body prepared to pose as Kisaki," Naoto explains, his words punctuated by a nervous gesture as he rubs his palms against his trousers.

"S-so Kisaki is..."

"Alive" Taiju confirms, his voice devoid of emotion as he extinguishes his cigarette in the ashtray with a decisive flick of his wrist.

With a heavy sigh, Takemichi absorbs the weight of this revelation, his mind swirling with a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. "Sano is dead. Kisaki is overseas, and therefore Toman's top is now Kurokawa Izana" Taiju concludes, his tone matter-of-fact as he summarizes the current state of affairs.

Takemichi's fingers tighten around the photograph of Kurokawa Izana, his features contorted in a mask of anger and frustration. "Why him?" he demands, his voice tinged with a note of incredulity as he struggles to comprehend the inexplicable allure of this enigmatic figure.

A dark look passes over Taiju's features, a shadow of regret clouding his expression as he contemplates the question. "I don't know," he admits, his voice tinged with a note of resignation. "But Sano trusted Izana more than Ryuguji Ken."

Takemichi's mind reels at the revelation, his thoughts swirling with confusion and disbelief. Mikey trusting someone over Draken? It sounded inconceivable, a betrayal of everything Takemichi had come to believe about the unshakeable bond between the two friends. As he grapples with the implications of Taiju's words, Takemichi is left to ponder the enigma of Kurokawa Izana—a figure shrouded in mystery and intrigue, whose influence extends far beyond the confines of Toman's hierarchy. Just who the hell was Kurokawa Izana, and what role did he play in the tangled web of alliances and betrayals that defined the world of gang warfare? "Well, well, well!" A familiar voice rings out, drawing the attention of the trio. "If it isn't both my former bosses? Having a private conversation, are we? That sucks."

It's Koko and Inupi, their presence igniting a spark of tension in the air. Taiju's anger simmers just beneath the surface at their unexpected intrusion. "You fuckers bringing Toman's minions into my place! What do you want?!" he growls, his voice laced with a palpable edge.

Inupi's voice remains devoid of emotion as he delivers their ominous message. "Under Kurokawa's orders, we've come to seize you all," he states matter-of-factly, his words carrying the weight of authority.

Koko, on the other hand, wears a smug grin, his eyes gleaming with malice. "There's a sneaky rat from the police sniffing around, I see... Sitting face to face with my former leaders" he taunts, relishing in the discomfort he elicits.

"You guys are prying into Kurokawa Izana, and therefore, you are all Toman's enemies" Inupi declares, his tone betraying no hint of sympathy or remorse.

Taiju's laughter cuts through the tension like a knife, his sadistic grin sending shivers down Takemichi's spine. "You guys, my enemies?" he scoffs, his voice dripping with disdain. "The guy who has clung onto Black Dragons and Black Dragon's wallet! Does Izana meet your requirements, Inui?! And are you still Toman's fucking wallet, Kokonoi?!"

The situation feels dire, with so many men from Toman surrounding them. Takemichi knows that fighting and winning would be impossible. If what Naoto said about the police being corrupted by Kurokawa is true, then calling for backup would be futile as well. "Hanagaki, escape from the back door..." Taiju's voice cuts through the chaos, his gaze flickering to Takemichi "Tachibana Naoto, please tell me the truth about Hakkai's death. I don't believe Sano did it. I don't know how he ended up at Sano's hideout, but I'm sure Izana was behind it. Please clear Hakkai's regrets."

Takemichi's heart clenches at the plea in Taiju's words, a surge of determination coursing through his veins as he resolves to uncover the truth behind Hakkai's demise. With a nod of affirmation, he meets Taiju's gaze, silently vowing to honour his request and bring closure to the lingering shadows of the past. "Taiju," Takemichi calls out over his shoulder as Naoto begins to pull him away, a sense of gratitude swelling within him. "Thank you for everything."

Taiju's response comes in the form of a gentle smile, a silent acknowledgment of their unspoken bond. "It's my debt to you," he replies, his voice carrying a weight of sincerity that resonates deeply with Takemichi.

With a nod of appreciation, Takemichi and Naoto break into a sprint, their footsteps echoing through the empty alleyways as they make their way towards Naoto's car. But amidst the rush of adrenaline, Takemichi's mind churns with thoughts and revelations. The mention of Black Dragons and their enigmatic leader, Kurokawa Izana, triggers a sudden realization within Takemichi. Inupi and Koko, with their ties to Toman and the underworld, could hold the key to unravelling the mysteries surrounding Izana and the Kanto incident. "NAOTO!" Takemichi's voice rings out, cutting through the heavy breaths of their hurried escape.

Naoto halts, his expression a mix of confusion and concern. "What's wrong, Takemichi?" he inquires, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.

"I think we should go back," Takemichi declares firmly, his eyes ablaze with determination. "They both know more. I want to know more about the Kanto incident. I'll go back."

Without waiting for Naoto's response, Takemichi pivots on his heel and races back towards the fray, his heart pounding in his chest with a newfound resolve. Naoto's voice cuts through the air, halting his sprint. "Takemichi..."

The glint of metal catches Naoto's eye first, a chilling premonition of danger. Reacting on pure instinct, Naoto lunges forward, pushing Takemichi out of harm's way just as the trigger is pulled. The deafening crack of gunfire fills the alley, followed by a sharp cry of pain as Naoto takes the bullet intended for his friend, his body jolting from the impact before collapsing to the ground. "Takemichi..." Naoto's voice wavers, strained with agony, as he lies in a growing pool of crimson, his strength ebbing away with each passing moment.

Takemichi's heart clenches with fear and despair at the sight of his injured friend. "N... Naoto," he whispers hoarsely, his voice choked with emotion as he rushes to kneel by Naoto's side, cradling him in his arms.

"Hang in there!" Takemichi pleads, his hands trembling as he desperately tries to stem the flow of blood.

But Naoto, his face contorted with pain, offers a weak smile. "Run" he grits out through clenched teeth, his voice barely a whisper.

Takemichi's eyes well up with tears, his heart breaking at the sight of his friend's suffering. "No, I can't leave you!" he protests, refusing to abandon Naoto in his time of need.

However, Kisaki's cold laughter echoes through the alley, a sinister presence looming at its entrance. "Hmph," he sneers, his expression twisted with malice. "That was a bad choice."

With Naoto's limp form cradled against his chest, Takemichi braces himself for whatever horrors await them, his resolve steeling as he prepares to face the looming threat head-on. Amidst the chaos of the alleyway, a new voice slices through the tension like a knife. "Oi, oi, oi," it rings out, masculine and unfamiliar. "Tachibana Naoto was mine to kill."

Takemichi's heart pounds in his chest as he turns to face the source of the voice, his eyes widening in disbelief. Standing before him is a figure shrouded in darkness, exuding an aura of menace that sends shivers down Takemichi's spine. White hair frames a face etched with malice, and piercing eyes gleam with a predatory light. This must be Izana, the sinister force behind the chaos that has engulfed their lives. Kisaki's laughter cuts through the tense atmosphere, his voice laced with amusement. "Sorry, Izana," he replies casually. "This fucker pushed Takemichi out of the way."

The mention of Izana's name sends a chill down Takemichi's spine. This is the man who is responsible for so much suffering. "You guys killed my Mikey" Izana growls, his voice dripping with malice.

Takemichi's blood runs cold at the mention of Mikey, his mind reeling with disbelief. "My Mikey?" he whispers, the words barely escaping his lips.

But before he can process the implications of Izana's words, another figure emerges from the shadows. It's Kakucho, his presence commanding and authoritative. Takemichi's heart sinks as he realizes the danger he's in. "Kill him" Izana commands, his voice devoid of emotion as he turns away, leaving Kakucho to carry out his orders.

Tears well up in Takemichi's eyes as Kakucho levels his gun, the weight of his impending doom crashing down upon him. "Kaku-chan" he chokes out, his voice trembling with fear and desperation.

In the face of imminent death, Kakucho hesitates, his resolve momentarily faltering at the unexpected nickname. But duty compels him forward, and he pulls the trigger without hesitation. Pain sears through Takemichi's body, a white-hot agony that threatens to consume him. "I'm sorry, Naoto," Takemichi gasps, his voice choked with pain and regret. "I'm sorry."

Naoto's gaze is steady, even as his life ebbs away. He begins to speak, his words heavy with finality. "When I first found you in the future timeline, you got me depressed," he admits, and Takemichi's heart clenches at the confession. "I thought to myself, can this pathetic wimp really commit to all this?... I thought about how my sister could fall in love with you."

Takemichi listens, his heart breaking with each word, but he finds no anger in Naoto's honesty. Instead, there's a strange sense of acceptance, a recognition of their shared journey. "Now that I think of it," Naoto continues, "no matter how much you failed, you always came back to me. That's how a hero would act like... You never gave up when you've failed so many times."

Tears stream down Takemichi's face as he listens to Naoto's final words. "Takemichi-kun," Naoto says, his voice growing faint. "You are my pride."

"Naoto..." Takemichi whispers, his voice choked with emotion.

"This is our final handshake," Naoto says, reaching out his hand.

Takemichi grasps Naoto's hand tightly, his fingers trembling with grief and determination. This wouldn't be the end. He would rewrite this tragedy, undo the pain and suffering that had brought them to this moment. He would save Hina, Mikey, Mitsuya, Draken, Chifuyu, and everyone else.

With a silent vow, Takemichi swears to himself that he will rewrite this fate, even if he must endure endless cycles of suffering to do so.

As Takemichi travels back to the past, Naoto is still clinging to his last few breaths. Kisaki, Kakucho and Izana are still there in the alleyway talking amongst themselves, probably waiting for the clean-up crew. "W-What did he want with her?" Naoto choked out, trying to lift his head off the ground to look at them

It didn't take a genius to understand he was talking about Maya. Izana grins and steps out of the alleyway, standing over Naoto's body. Something slides out of the front of Izana's coat. Maya's other necklace dangles over Naoto's face as it was strung around Izana's neck. Oh. Oh no. Naoto feels tears well up in his eyes. What he was thinking earlier was nothing compared to reality. "She was cute. That's all" Izana says with a lazy tone "It's too bad she had to die"

He feels sick. So so sick. Something way worse happened to Maya than he thought. "She was adorable, Tachibana. Had her with me while you were running around like an idiot looking for her" Izana taunts as he crouches down over him and pulls the necklace off, dangling it over his face "Sweetest thing I've ever met"

Thing. Izana was talking about Maya like she was an object. Naoto can't do anything but breathe heavily like he just ran a marathon. He's dying. The gunshot wound in his torso is hot and his clothes are quickly soaking with his blood. Maya had been alive this whole time and with the way Izana is talking about her it seems she died recently. Izana leans closer and whispers "made the sweetest sounds when I fucked her too... Would've loved to take her virginity but it's too bad Matsuno beat me to it."

Naoto's eyes widen. Oh god. He feels like he'll vomit. "it's too bad my little bunny died" Izana says then stands back up, fastening the necklace around his neck again 

Izana walks away from him and as Naoto takes his last breaths he hopes that this time, Takemichi is successful.

Izana's first memory of the Sano house was of meeting Sano Mansaku. The short old man simply raised a brow and asked who he was. Izana just shrugged and told him his name and the old man scoffed and told him Mikey was in the shed. Izana couldn't help but roll his eyes at the man before heading over to the shed. It had been months since the Kanto incident back then and there was no sign of Mikey since Emma's funeral. Tokyo Manji Gang was currently under the supervision of Draken who hadn't even bothered to come to the Sano residence to check up on Mikey. Izana thought that was fucking stupid. His plan couldn't come into action if Mikey was missing. So he showed up at the Sano residence and immediately felt sick at the thought of Emma running around the yard he was currently walking in and Shinichiro sitting on the deck smoking. 

As he made his way into the shed he felt gross. The shed was turned into a room with a vibe too old for someone 15. Everything in the shed belonged to Shinichiro. Izana without a word made his way over to the lump beneath the blanket on the twin-size bed and pulled the covers off Mikey to a sight he hadn't expected. Mikey had gotten significantly skinnier, looked like he hadn't showered or eaten in ages and his blonde hair was matted and tangled. Izana remembers feeling sick to his stomach as he forcibly pulled Mikey out of bed. Izana had to stop himself from shaking when he felt how frail Mikey was. This was not the Invincible Mikey he watched take Shion down back during the reign of the 9th gen Black Dragons. No, this was a weak sad kid who looked like he was seconds away from death. 

As much as Izana hated him, he couldn't let him die either. That would mean he came this far for nothing. So as he drags Mikey into the main house he sees Sanzu who's cooking, probably to coax Mikey to eat. Sanzo goes wide-eyed at the sight of him and Mikey and Izana just pushes Mikey into the bathroom and has to bathe him. After that Izana spends time to try and fix Mikey's hair while Sanzu sits in front of Mikey and feeds him by hand. His hair was way too matted and barely salvageable. He cuts off what he can't untangle and Mikey ends up with short hair and throws up what he ate at the sight of himself in the mirror. It seems Mikey kept his hair long for a reason. He couldn't bear to see Shinichiro staring back at him the mirror even if it was with different coloured hair. 

It wasn't hard for Izana to whisper suggestions into his ear and even easier for Mikey to listen and merge Tenjiku and Toman together. 

What Izana hadn't expected or realized was that Mikey genuinely saw him as his big brother. It made Izana sick to his stomach but also gleeful. 

How easy it was going to be to make him suffer.

The members of the Tokyo Manji Gang made it even easier. One by one, starting from that little shit Hanagaki Takemichi, they started leaving Mikey after absolutely berating him. 

Mikey of course was devastated. Bawling his eyes out in Izana's chest each time someone left. Mikey was completely dependent on him and Izana loved it. All he had to do was act like a loving older brother and Mikey would do whatever he asked. Only, Izana hadn't expected Mikey to barge into his room in the middle of the night looking for comfort because he could still feel Emma taking her last breath and her heart stop. 

Mikey would cry in his sleep— sob, whimper and beg. Sometimes it was for Shinichiro but most of the time it was for Emma to wake up. It was hard for Izana to ignore it. He wasn't sure what to do. Kakucho told him he needed to comfort Mikey so Izana did. Izana told Mikey he would never leave him but simultaneously told Mikey to listen to him or else he would leave. Of course, Mikey complied, clinging tightly to Izana in fear he would actually leave. 

As Mikey grew older he really started to look like Shinichiro, even though at first Izana liked it. He liked that he got his big brother back in some form. Mikey dyed his hair black, the same shade as Shinichiro's too. But eventually, it started making both him and Mikey sick. So when Mikey started growing it out again and wearing it all messy in front of his eyes, Izana didn't stop him nor tell him to fix his hair. After all, it wasn't healthy for Mikey to keep throwing up every time he looked at himself in the mirror. 

Perhaps over the years, Izana began to actually become fond of Mikey. Listening to him mumble a little "I love you Aniki, good night" before bed and ask for random things. Izana had become fond of him. Izana wonders if Mikey knew that he had in fact begun to love him and didn't see him as a simple tool. But there was no point in that now because in front of him sat both Sanzu Haruchiyo and Sano "Mikey" Manjiro's photos, surrounded by too many flowers for Izana's liking. There's incense burning between both photos and Izana can feel his eye twitch. 

He often dreamed of this day when he was younger. 

The death of Sano "Mikey" Manjiro. 

He thought it would bring him happiness. He'd have Shinichiro all to himself as well as Emma. Then he'd even convince Shinichiro to adopt Kakucho as well. But now there is no Shinichiro, no Emma and no Manjiro. There was no one. No family except Kakucho.

Manjiro's death didn't bring Izana the satisfaction he thought it would. Instead, he felt empty. 

"KUROKAWA IZANA! YOU FUCKING BITCH!"

A familiar voice yells from the entrance of the funeral hall. Izana already knows who it is. Some of his minions are holding her back. "Should I get rid of her?" Kakucho asks lowly as the other members of Tokyo Manji Gang here to mourn Manjiro and Haruchiyo start to look confused as well

They're sitting at the front of the hall, Kakucho next to him. Haruchiyo had no family. He had long denounced Akashi Takeomi and Kawaragi Senju as family. Kakucho told him Mikey would have liked it if they did both funerals together so, they posed as Haruchiyo's family as well. "no" Izana says and gets up off the mat "I'll talk to her"

He walks over to the entrance toward the screaming woman also in an all-black mourning outfit like his own. She probably just got back from Tachibana Naoto and Hanagaki Takemichi's funeral. His men are holding her back from entering the hall and they step aside as soon as Izana walks over. She's about to lunge at him but Izana simply grabs her wrist and drags her out of the hall. She's still yelling even as they stand at the back of the building. "You never shut up do you, Yuzuha?" Izana says as he leans against the wall

Yuzuha's jaw drops at his words. "is that really what you have to say right now?" She's angry, rightfully so "Mikey may have killed my brother but I know it was you that killed Naoto and Takemichi"

Yuzuha is clenching her fists, visibly resisting the urge to punch him and Izana is resisting the urge to get a cigarette. Maya told him he wasn't supposed to smoke. "So what? What's done is done" Izana shrugs

Izana isn't even sure why he's entertaining this. Oh man, he kinda wishes Manjiro killed this bitch too. "What done is done?" Yuzuha repeats and takes hold of his black suit jacket, tugging harshly at the lapels "Everyone is fucking dead Izana! All because you're a selfish bitch"

Okay, now she was going too low. Izana holds her wrists and stares at Yuzuha with darkened eyes full of anger. But just before he could say anything, she saw the necklace. "This is..." Yuzuha's eyes widen in horror as her eyes shift between him and the gold butterfly pendant necklace looped around his neck "You killed her too?"

Just as she's about to touch the pendant Izana pushes her away. She struck a sore spot. "Shut the fuck up" Izana hisses "I may have gotten my men to get rid of Hanagaki and Tachibana but not her"

Yuzuha looks confused but then she starts to laugh— hysterically, like he said something funny. Izana is really resisting the urge to shoot her right now and make Shiba Taiju mourn another sibling. How dare she accuse him of killing Maya? His Maya. His bunny. He would have never killed her. She was never meant to die. His little brother made a mistake and that was fine, he forgave Manjiro but never in his life would he want to kill the girl that brought him so much joy and excitement and— "Mikey killed her didn't he?" Yuzuha asks with a grin like it is funny 

"What's so fucking funny about it?" Izana asks annoyed

Yuzuha laughs even more. It seems grief has turned her crazy. Can grief make you crazy? "You never wanted her dead. You love her and Mikey killed her"

"It was an accident" He surprises himself by saying that

Izana had no reason to be defending Manjiro right now but it just happens. "an accident? You sure it wasn't because you fucking ruined his life?" Yuzuha spits back taking a step forward

Oh, now he was mad. "I ruined his life? I did? Are you so fucking sure about that?" 

Izana takes a step forward and forcibly grabs Yuzuha by her upper arms and pulls her against him. She flinches and tries to pull away but Izana holds her even tighter. "Remind me just how long Ryuguji Ken took over Toman after Emma died? Remind me how long it took any of you to even fucking notice he wasn't around?" He's a few decibels away from yelling in her face "If it weren't for me, Manjiro would have died"

Yuzuha looks scared. Good. She should be. She should learn to think before she speaks. She should have looked at the facts before accusing him of some bullshit. "I got Manjiro out of bed, I stopped him from starving himself to death, I fixed him up, I fed him, I kept him alive..." Izana says angrily "Tell me Yuzuha, just in what way did I ruin him?"

"His friends—"

"They left on their own and you know it too" Izana cuts her off immediately 

Yuzuha is speechless. "Everyone left him and I was the one that stayed" He continues and finally loosens his grip on her arms to let her go "I may have been the villain but I was still his big brother..."

Never in his life would Izana thought he'd be saying that to someone willingly. Never in his life did Izana think he'd call himself Manjiro his big brother in such a manner that wasn't patronizing or for a cruel game. 

Can grief make you crazy?

When Izana flips open his wallet the first thing he's met with in the clear pocket is a Polaroid picture. Among the Black Cards and cash is a Polaroid picture of him, Manjiro, Maya and Kakucho. They're sitting on the beach and Izana has an arm around Maya and Kakucho and Manjiro is sitting on the other side of Maya, arms around her waist. Maya is kissing Izana's cheek hard in an attempt to annoy him. 

Nothing about that moment had been annoying. He's smiling widely in the picture, tugging her and Kakucho close and by extension, Manjiro too. The only bad thing about it was that Maya wasn't sober. She was high off a whole bunch of drugs and to date, months after her and Manjiro's deaths, he still doesn't understand how she didn't die of overdose. Oh well, it seems he'll never know. 

The people are gone and now all he'd got left are pictures and the stupid necklace he's wearing. 

It had been months and he was avoiding coming back to the beach house. It was something he had bought for Manjiro. His little brother loved the sea and what better to buy him a place that was far from anyone else and safe for him to leave without any security? Manjiro loved this place and at one point so did Izana. But now he hates it.

Izana can still smell Manjiro's cologne and body wash on the sheets, his clothes are mixed in with his and there are even a few pieces of his hair still lying around here and there. It seems no matter how many times he gets the place cleaned up, hair still shows up somewhere. It makes him sick.

Sometimes it feels like his lungs are rejecting air. It seems that he'll die before he ever learns how to breathe without Manjiro again. 

But it wasn't just Manjiro's things that were bothering him, it was Maya's too. Her makeup, her clothes, her hair ties, her scent— it's everywhere. She stayed in that house, even though unwillingly, for only a month and a half and her traces were everywhere. There are still footprints too small to belong to his other men in the sand and fingerprints on the glass of the windows and doors. Sometimes he can still feel her skin under the tips of his fingers and her scent on his clothes. It was like her essence had woven itself into the fabric of the house.

It's like she's everywhere and he can't get rid of her. Maya kept her promise and now she was haunting him in the worst way possible.

(Sometimes he hears Manjiro's laughter and Maya's drunken giggles. Other times he hears Manjiro gagging and sobbing, whimpering out Emma's name and Maya's pitiful moans and breathy whimpers, pleading to go home)

Izana is sitting at the front of the house rather than at the back of the deck facing the beach. He's sitting on the porch, tapping his fingers against his knee, now craving a cigarette more than ever. "Kakucho you have—"

"no" Kakucho shuts him down immediately 

Even after her death, Kakucho hasn't forgotten that Maya told him smoking isn't good for a recovering addict. Izana can't help but curse at Maya for that. She's probably doing the same. Or maybe not. 

Part of Izana hates Manjiro for killing her. But the other part doesn't blame him. When so many people in your life have left you, of course, the last straw would end up with you doing something drastic. Manjiro didn't mean to kill Maya. Izana should have stayed up that night and held Manjiro as he slept. Then maybe he wouldn't have gone on a killing spree and ended up getting shot in the head by that stupid Detective Tachibana. Izana should have stayed awake that night and maybe that was one of his biggest regrets next to just taking Manjiro to Tokyo with him for the deal in Tokyo and leaving Shion and maybe Rindo and Ran with Maya at the beach house. 

Maybe Izana should have never let Kisaki kill Emma in the first place...

He feels bitter and angry. He hates this stupid beach house with its walls filled with Manjiro and Maya's laughter and he knows Kakucho hates it too because he's visibly itching to leave. Manjiro and Maya's shoes are still there by the front door and Izana can't help but curl his fingers around the butterfly pendant necklace he's wearing. 

Sano Manjiro and Kaneko Maya at one point belonged to him. They were both his. But now they've gone so far. Too far. There was a bitter irony in it all, a cruel twist of fate that mocked his earlier assurances to them. He had once promised Manjiro that he would always follow, that their paths would remain intertwined no matter where life took them. And to Maya, he had sworn that he could always catch her no matter how far she ran from him.

But now those promises rang hollow, mere echoes of a time long past. Manjiro had ventured into the depths of darkness, consumed by a path that Izana could not follow. And Maya, with her promise to go so far he wouldn't be able to catch her, had slipped away like smoke in the wind, leaving nothing but memories in her wake. Manjiro and Maya had slipped through his fingers, venturing into realms beyond his reach

How stupid it was for Izana to be grieving the brother he once upon a time wanted dead and the girl he tortured and somehow fell in love with. 

Izana stares at the patch of rotting daffodils under the tree across the beach house on the other side of the road and laughs hysterically while Kakucho watches in silence.

Perhaps grief does make you crazy.

—fin

notes: thank you for reading Dead Girl's Beach, I hope you enjoyed! Both bonus chapters release soon.

thank you to my university profs who went on strike in february all the way to the end of the semester, I would have never finished this fic this fast otherwise(mfers give me back my money).

chapter title from can't catch me now by olivia rodrigo

special thanks to: @highpri3stess @mysouleaten @yaya4thawin @piroporopo @reiners-milkbiddies @bontensbabygirl @tenjikusstuff4 @fairey555 @haikyuusboringassmanager @firstdivisiongirl @bakuhoethotski @xoxowhateveroxox @maraya-007 @dolfiins-art @short-cxke @milky-aeons @asirensrage @blueblazecrusade @brisssaaa009

extra special thanks to monika for all the detailed reviews you left after each chapter. I genuinely appreciated it. Thank you ♡

[warrioreowynofrohan]

After a reread of Persuasion, I’m thinking about how it relates to Austen’s character types discussed in this post. It stands out from S&S, P&P, and Mansfield Park in not haveing a ‘charming rake’ type as the main male antagonist, but instead a reserved, intelligent, courteous, cold-blooded and selfish man. There is no counterpart to Willoughby, Wickham, or Henry Crawford.

Instead, if Mr. Elliot is a counterpart to any of the characters in Austen’s other novels, he feels like a dark mirror of Darcy. They are both reserved; both (at least at the time of the main plot of the book) place a high value on social status, and look down on commonness and vulgarity. However, while Darcy’s arrogance makes him rude, Mr. Elliot has impeccable manners; and where Darcy in has strong principles and treats the people for whom he is responsible well, Mr. Elliot is a hypocrite and, though voicing good principles, is in fact cruel and uncaring to those who are dependent on him. Mr. Elliot is, really, the type of person that Wickham portrays Darcy as being. The other thing that brought this comparison to my mind is Mrs. Smith’s description of the friendship between her husband and Mr. Elliot, which very much recalls the one between Bingley and Darcy (as an additional note, both Mr. Smith and Bingley are named Charles):

From his wife’s account of him she could discern Mr. Smith to have been a man of warm feelings, easy temper, careless habits, and not strong understanding, much more amiable than his friend and very unlike him - led by him

I think this all goes with one of Austen’s common themes, and one that is especially important to Persuasion - the importance of not marrying in overmuch haste and without good knowledge of and, at a minimum, respect for your partner. Darcy is decidedly not like Mr. Elliot in character - but at the time if his first proposal, for all Elizabeth knew he might have been.

And on the flip side, Frederick Wentworth is not like Willoughby or Wickham - but given the short time Anne had known him when he first proposed, he might have been, and Lady Russell certainly sees that danger. He is, at that time, daring and charismatic, but not prudent, having saved none of the money that he won in his naval career. There’s also another reference to the ‘charming rake’ type in that, like Henry Crawford, he for a while courts two sisters, the elder of whom is attached (though, unlike Maria Bertram, not engaged) to another man. In Wentworth’s defence, he isn’t aware of the latter, and isn’t trying to make them both fall in love with him, just being his (naturally charming) self, and keeping his eyes open for who he might like to marry; and he very nearly gets himself badly entangled and, later, freely acknowledges that as his own fault. Really, Wentworth has elements of all three of Austen’s main male character types, and is the better for it. (Anne herself has, I think, the most in common with Elinor Dashwood in being the only sensible and intelligent person in her family, and in being very perceptive, and with Fanny Price is being rather quiet and imposed upon.)

On the whole, this combination of characters makes the book feel less on the side of intelligence and judgement, and more on the side of a warm and open heart, in making for happiness, whereas S&S and P&P focus more strongly on the need for ‘sense’ and intelligence. Intelligence may well be a necessary quality for a truly good marriage, but it is not a sufficient one, not when it is combined with a cold and selfish heart.

[relentlessconqueror]

sylus is so incredibly sebastian-coded. here's a list of the things i think they have in common lol (disclaimer: i haven't read black butler in a hot minute)

sylus' photobooth preset called "demon butler" complete with the tutor!sebastian glasses that have the cord on them. and sebastian is literally THEE demon butler, like come on (this has the honor of going first on the list because it's what made me realize their similarity)

air of perpetual smugness and confidence

red eyes

turtle smile

gourmand (see sylus' cafe interactions about going to new restaurants. sebastian starves until he finds a particularly tormented soul). related: sylus feels life to be banal but says that MC is interesting to him, and iirc sebastian purposefully seeks out high-quality souls whose owners can amuse/entertain him for the duration of the contract

making deals duh

multilingual

tells the truth (in their own way) — sebastian is bound by the contract, sylus is just Like That (and insanely forward...)

cool, composed, competent 🙄

sebastian helps ciel rule over the underworld of victorian england, sylus rules the n109 zone. related: they both stalk people as a part of their job descriptions

a stretch: i can't help drawing a comparison between sylus' love for antiques/classical music and sebastian dressing sieglinde in old-fashioned girls' clothing

looks intimidating (at least one of the phantomhive servants said this about sebastian because of how capable he is at managing the household. and obviously sylus is terrifying) but has incredibly goofy ass moments (that time in boyband arc where sebastian performed a part of the starlight four's song, dance and all. and sylus loves to sing. only one of them belongs on a stage though. sorry sylus)

the common theme of devouring the other person. obviously sebastian wants to eat ciel's soul, but this point is reversed in the sylusMC dynamic because she's the one hearing whispers about him belonging to her and to eat him lol

a stretch: ok this isn't about sebastian but ciel has the contract mark in his right eye, which is where sylus' aether core is. sylus also mentioned him and MC being kindred spirits and while i don't think ciel and sebastian's dynamic is like that, it is true that ciel's goals are, by virtue of the contract, sebastian's goals (in a sense sebastian is an extension of ciel)

sebastian wishes to draw out the worst parts of ciel to make his soul more delicious which i can't help but connect to sylus mentioning "all the crimes you'll inevitably commit." there's the assumption of hidden darkness in ciel/MC that will be revealed in time

likes cats (sylus likes small animals in general, but he's obsessed with calling MC kitten, so i say it counts)

sylus saying, "even if you wanted to sell your soul, you still have to find someone who can pay the price" and "there's a price you have to pay when you make a wish to a demon" which speaks for itself. like this is just all of black butler chapter 138

both ciel and MC wanted revengejusticewhatever for their families' deaths, and both sylus and sebastian "grant" their wish — sylus lets MC shoot him, sebastian helps ciel on his journey of revenge (AND it looks like caleb is coming back which is VERY real!ciel phantomhive of him. he even has the (pseudo-)incest thing going on LMAO though of course it's not the same as ciel and real!ciel's dynamic as blood brothers)

sylus' "don't be shy about using me" and sebastian being literally owned by ciel. it's also reciprocal: sylus' "after all, i want to use you too" and sebastian is promised ciel's soul after the contract is fulfilled

sylus' wanderer form vs sebastian's monstrous true form

(this doesn't count but i'll still put it anyway) because of a localization/translation issue (i think?), there was a time that a lot of people thought sylus made his body SPECIFICALLY to benefit/seduce/whatever MC because of him saying, "it's just there to make you feel better. i don't need it" (homescreen interaction iirc) and "they're not real but they can move" [lost oasis] about his abs. sebastian exists in his form because ciel requested it. there's also the moment in sylus' anecdote where he asks a man what's fashionable in n109 and he just chooses to dress like whatever was on the billboard that the man pointed to, which reinforces how sylus is an outsider much like sebastian, who isn't human

ciel and MC are both understandably put off by them due to their first meeting. sylus assaulted MC, and she falls back on viewing him through the lens of his reputation as onychinus' leader a few times in memories. sebastian appears to ciel in the traumatic event of losing his brother, and as a result ciel is unable to see that sebastian harbors at least SOME fondness for him at this point (though honestly the existence of that fondness is just my opinion, which is something not everybody shares. because i know every person who's read black butler feels differently about the question of sebastian's feelings for ciel, outside of wanting his soul). as of now, ciel and MC (in the main story?) are still unable to trust sebastian/sylus completely

that one moment in [radiant brilliance] where sylus tugs off his gloves with his teeth which is a Signature Sebastian Move

sylus telling MC that he won't lose the match because she told him not to, and something similar happened between ciel and sebastian during book of the atlantic (i made a post about this before). sebastian is also often ciel's champion in fights or contests both personal and business-related

[animeyanderelover]

💘Could I request itachi with prompt 122. “Don’t be scared. I’m not angry at you. I’m angry at them.”?💘

I'll probably announce a date of when I will open my requests again within the next two weeks. I only have 72 left after all which is actually not that much in comparison to what I had before.

Words: 2.4k

Tags: @shumidehiro @naeho @swagenemyartisan

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, isolation, abduction, death

Prompt 122

The flames of the campfire licking away at the wood was a captivating sight, your eyes drawn to its brightness. All the chatter and cackling around you slowly turned into white noise as the bright colours of the fire brought your mind to another time. A time where everything in your life had been boring, normal and fine.

When an object was thrown against your head, you were forced to leave your head and return back to the present, surrounded by bounty hunters who had been forcing you to tag along with them for nearly 2 weeks now. Well, Itachi was after all on one of his long missions so you didn't expect any help from him. You didn't even know when he would return.

"Eat up. That's all you're going to get for tonight." One of them told you rudely. You threw him a dirty sideglance as soon as he had turned his back to you, chatting with a few of his pals as you picked up the small package made out of green leaves. A few onigiri were inside, the impact due to the guy having thrown them against your head had caused some of the rice to fall apart. It was a sad meal as you stared at the meager rice balls who had already partially lost their shape. You knew better than to reject the food though because not only would that mean that they might starve you purposely for a bit but you also weren't keen on receiving another hit against your face from one of those idiots. Your cheek still stung slightly even days after you had been knocked down simply by irritating one of the members of this group a bit.

Ultimately they wouldn't kill you though. For now at least. After all people wanted you alive as bait to lure out the famous Itachi Uchiha. Since when had your value only been dragged down to Itachi Uchiha? When had you stopped being your own individual and instead were only famous as his 'lover'?

You munched away on the onigiri, ignoring the glances you received from the women and men around you and the way they snickered tauntingly. They only cared for the money after all. Whatever would happen to you was none of their concerns as long as they received their price for collecting you.

If you remembered right, you'd arrive in a day or two your destination. Then you'd be handed over like a useful tool and would be kept until you'd lose your value, which was obviously only Itachi Uchiha. You could technically be liberated after that because you had only been an innocent citizen before you'd been kidnapped by a famous criminal but you were smarter than to hope for such a thing. You'd probably be either killed in the near future or you'd be kept for another purpose. In either case, you would never be able to go back to your own life.

Well, that was what you had expected and prepared for anyways when you had decided to be abducted once again by those people of your own free will. You had just been tired of being stuck in the small cottage, tired of being forced to wait for weeks until Itachi would return from his missions the Akatsuki had assigned to him and tired of your helplessness to do nothing else. The walls of the cottage had turned suffocating and a heaviness had settled somewhere inside your chest that no warm but ultimately shallow words of apologies and comfort could have erased. You had felt like you were slowly forgetting what you were like until only a shell of you would remain. That's why you had decided to follow those bounty hunters without any resistance when they had found you as you had wandered aimlessly around the woods despite Itachi's urgent warnings to never leave the area.

Had you tried to escape? You didn't know anymore. You just remembered that you had desperately wished to be anywhere else but in this cozy cage which was slowly sucking your soul out of you.

"Time to go to bed for you."

A woman told you as she walked over to you when noticing that you had finished your food, dropping the sleeping back, a pillow and blanket in your hands before walking away again. You let out a sigh as you stood up from your place and started throwing away small rocks or any other objects that might end up poking you annoyingly as soon as you'd lay down. You spread out the sleeping back, felt everyone's eyes watching you as you crawled inside the sleeping back, throwing the blanket you had been given so kindly over your body before flopping your head down the pillow. It smelled terribly after dirt and sweat but you didn't have anything better to use.

One of them walked towards you and to your dismay he stopped when he stood right above you. You just stared at the dark edges of the forest that the light of the fire couldn't reach.

"Your prince didn't show up so far, did he?" He asked you and even if you didn't look him into his face, you could almost picture his disgusting grin on his face. You remained qiet but unfortunately he didn't move, gauging you for any reaction. Was he expecting you to be sad about the fact that Itachi hadn't come so far or what?

"That's lucky for you then, isn't it? If Itachi would have found me by now all of you wouldn't be alive right now." You replied bluntly as you stared straight ahead. Only one or two days more...

"Huh? Would you like to repeat that again?"

You had offended him, angered him with what you saw as the only truth. You could see from the corner of your eyes how he bent down a bit, although you still didn't bother to look at him.

"You're only acting so tough and cool because we're so close to the destination. However, all of you were so tense and rigid in the beginning because you were terrified that Itachi might appear at any second from somewhere. We all know that you wouldn't stand a chance against Itachi even if all of you would fight him at once."

You repeated yourself once again, your voice dismissive and unimpressed by his pathetic attempts to intimidate you. He didn't say anything after that, although you could still feel his eyes glaring down at your body. He didn't utter a single word when he suddenly stepped on you, the heel of his foot pushing heavily down on your shoulders as he put his entire weight down on you. He reeked of sweat and dirt but you kept that for yourself as you clenched your jaw, swallowing down any whimper or other sound that would reveal your pain to his arrogant ass.

Eventually he stepped down from you and for a short moment you thought that he'd let it be only to receive a kick against your ribs in the next moment. You forced the groan of pain down as you bit down on your bottom lip, forcing your eyes to just contiue to stare straight ahead to show him how little you respected him and took him seriously.

He let out a scoff when you didn't budge in any meaningful way before deciding that you were not worth it as he walked away and joined his buddies again. God, you couldn't stand those people or their cocky facade as if all of them thought that they were something special for capturing you when you had really just given them an easy time by allowing them to help you to get away from that dull life you had been forced to live for almost 2 years now. Your current situation was frustrating, angering and downright annoying due to all those dumb people but you preferred it over the nothingness Itachi had forced you into.

~~~

When you woke up, the blinding darkness around you roused you from your sleepy mind. Why was the campfire out? They had never put it out since two of them were always playing guards for the night to ensure that no one would attack them. They had absolutely no confidence to fight in the dark as all they were capable of were a few meek ninjutsu and some mediocre taijutsu and weapon skills.

It's not like they were bad with what they were doing but in comparison to Itachi they just seemed so clumsy and ungraceful. You sat slowly up, your ears trying to pick up any sound as your hearing was the only thing you could rely on right now as you could barely see anything. The lack of noises was the next thing you noticed with growing worries. You couldn't hear any snoring nor any breathing from around you. There was only the same sad silence you had grown to hate, telling you that there was nothing and no one around you. The same silence that had always reminded you that you couldn't choose anything besides withering slowly away.

You couldn't sense nor see him but you knew that he was there. You gave out a pitiful chuckle, hugging your knees as you rested your chin on them.

"How long do you plan to conceal yourself from me, Itachi?"

You would never know how long he had been there already or how long everyone around you had been dead already, you only knew that you suddenly felt his hands resting on your shoulders. Had he been standing behind you the entire time?

A shudder went through your body as you could almost feel coldness creeping up your spine. The air around you became heavier all of a sudden, his presence behind you omnious and powerful. He was nothing like all those murdered people could have stood a chance against and they had clearly paid that with their own lives. There would have been no way for them to get out of this alive, they had been doomed to die from the start. Meeting you had been their demise.

Itachi removed his hands instantly when he noticed the spike of fear inside of you. Your back tingled as you sensed how he tried to suppress all the murderous pressure he had failed to properly contain. It ebbed away slowly as he carefully regained his composure until his presence felt familiar to you again and only a heavy knot inside your chest reminded you that you couldn't trust him.

“Don’t be scared. I’m not angry with you. I’m angry with them.”

Hearing his deep voice made your heart feel heavy once again. You had grown far too familiar with it as it had been the only human sound that had surrounded you for too long until you had almost forgotten how anyone else could have sounded, his voice the only thing echoing around inside your mind.

What did he mean by saying that he wasn't angry with you? Did he know? You wouldn't have been surprised if he would have. It was creepy how well he knew you yet you couldn't still grasp entirely how he functioned and worked.

"You're going to take me back to that soulless place again?"

It sounded less like an actual question and more like an observation you knew would be true anyways.

"We can't go back there. Since the cottage was found by them, there's no guarantee that others won't be able to do the same. It isn't safe there anymore. I'll find another place for us. If you want to take anything from there with you though, I will-"

"Spare me that pretentious guilty tone of yours, will you?" You asked him with an agitated hiss before you forced yourself to calm down, although the guilt dwelling in his voice scratched terribly at your pride and heart.

You stood slowly up, kicking your legs out of the sleeping back before you rose from your position on the ground. Your eyes aimlessly searched around yet the moonlight shining through the trees barely allowed you to see anything. Only Itachi's figure was faintly visible for you and it was the one thing you really didn't want to see.

"I can't see anything. Is it possible for you to light the campfire again?"

"I can't do that. I...I don't want you to see your surroundings."

You clenched your hands into fists when you heard that meek and quieter tone of his again, apologetic and gentle as if you were a baby deer in the woods he didn't want to scare away. You knew that he wanted to spare you the sight of dead bodies he had killed all by himself but this apparent consideration for your own feelings was exactly what you hated so much about him. His guilt angered you, insulted you more than if he would have just been like those bounty hunters. Dealing with an arrogant jerk was far easier than with a man who felt guilty for his own actions and showed you kindess despite being a criminal, mass murderer and your abductor all in one. Because those feelings didn't allow you to read him properly and frightened you silently of the darker side that slumbered underneath that kind facade.

"Nevermind then." You sighed as you carefully tried to feel your way through the darkness with your feet. You didn't appreciate when Itachi instead grabbed your hand carefully and led the way so you wouldn't bump against any bodies on your path.

You could feel his hand clenching ever so slightly around yours. Not enough to hurt you but just enough to make you notice. You wondered if he was silently pondering over something in his head and a bad feeling made itself noticable somewhere in the pit of your stomach. You didn't want to hear him saying those empty words again that would change nothing besides maybe relieving his consciousness a bit by reminding himself that he wasn't as low as he thought he was.

"(y/n)..."

You didn't reply in hopes of him noticing your silent prayers and sparing you from his words. Because by doing so he would have done something far more selfless than acting all nice and considerate whilst still keeping you within a cage he had set up all pretty and nice-looking for you.

"I'm sorry."

You felt your heart drop when he spoke his apology in such a hushed tone. Those were merely words that held no meaning behind them anymore. They were devoid and empty as you had heard them far too many times already and every apology made you feel like getting slowly closer to a breakdown.

[bg3-bitching]

Re the same 2 conversations happening over and over, I want to submit another recurring theme that comes up so frequently it’s nearly impossible to avoid: the idea that an “imperfect survivor” like Astarion really needs compassion and patience from others—except in the context of this game, this innocuous-on-its-own idea is overwhelmingly framed as “therefore a good person would stick with Astarion through his cruelty and sexual manipulations because he needs to be cruel and sexually manipulate you in order to feel safe, but give him time and he’ll get better!” And anyone who expresses basic dislike for Astarion’s early behavior is told “but stick with him and he has the best development” at best, and at worst, “you must hate stories of survivors who aren’t ‘perfect.’” Where to begin with the conflations and assumptions? As though it’s impossible to be a survivor or care about survivors and not love this cruel, manipulative, abusive character. As though it is never valid for anyone worthy of respect to find Astarion’s early behavior a dealbreaker. As though finding Astarion’s actual cruelty and sexual manipulations too high a price to pay for whatever development he has later is a sign of an inferior moral character in real life. And don’t get me started on the tendency to call holding Astarion accountable for his cruel words and actions “victim-blaming.” In a word, yikes?

Which brings me to another point about this character being less than groundbreaking: “you owe it to a cruel man to stay with him and endure him treating you badly because he’s only cruel as a result of his past suffering and he will get better through your love” is not a new message at ALL. Especially not to women. And while I will give it to the game that this wasn’t necessarily intended in the writing, too often this is exactly what a lot of the gushing about Astarion’s character falls into and regurgitates. It can be a bad time to run into that over and over again, especially combined with other characters being vilified in comparison with Astarion. It can feel as though the efforts to drive home that “you never owe someone who is cruel to you a relationship, it is not your moral obligation to fix them through your love, you are not a bad or unkind person for leaving to protect yourself” is being directly combatted. Even though I know it’s just a game, when the rhetoric about “why Astarion matters so much” takes this form, it can feel really hostile. Rather than expanding awareness and empathy for all survivors, it often feels like another game of “this cruel white man’s pain matters more than other people’s safety.”

(Disclaimer about “not every Astarion fan says these things, just enough to be a disturbing pattern and impact one’s experience in general fan spaces,” etc.)

I have a response to this, but I'm gonna do a separate reblog for it.

This ask by itself needs to stand alone and be seen.