#sorta. daisuke confuses me
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bugslaststraw · 2 months ago
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Jimmy is really hard to draw but I've figured everyone else out
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puer-aurea · 2 months ago
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Divine Intervention (Mouthwashing AU)
Part 1 | Part 2 (You are here) | Part 3
ive decided to call this au Divine Intervention cz i think it sounds cool and is sorta fitting? it wont be mentioned anywhere in the fic cz it doesnt happen but their rescue takes place the day before everyone dies in game. so she saved them at the last second basically
After a brief introduction to the rest of the crew, Arabella is led to the med-bay to meet the previous captain. Anya and Jimmy accompany her while Daisuke and Swansea pack some things. The old captain looks their way and seems to freak out a little when he sees the new person.
"It's okay, Curly... She's here to help." Anya walks up to the man.
He looks near death, hardly alive enough to be called a man. If it didn't feel wrong from a medically moral standpoint, Arabella would've considered him a walking corpse in her head. But he was alive enough to move, make noise, and hurt, so he was alive enough to be saved. Jimmy stays by the doorway while she walks towards the old captain and the nurse.
"Hello, Captain Curly-"
"He is no longer captain." Jimmy interrupts angrily, like the one thing he has is being taken from him.
"Well, Jimmy, I'm afraid neither are you-" she turns to face him- "since your crew agreed to board my ship and be rescued, whoever was captain, legally or acting, is absolved of their duties. From now until we land, you are all patients under the care of No Boundaries Search and Rescue team member Arabella Inara. Which is me, if you can't tell."
"He is... not a very good man." Anya explains quietly.
She waits for Jimmy to respond if he decides to. He looks like he's trying to be intimidating. When he figures all eyes have been on him for long enough, he mutters a 'whatever' and walks away.
"I didn't think he would just leave? He's distrusting but doesn't seem to care enough to ensure I can be trusted." Arabella states.
The half dead captain struggles and groans on the table, seemingly freaking out again. The girls turn their attention back to him and Arabella pulls a small med-kit out of her suit pocket. She places it on a nearby table before pulling out a vial and a syringe. The sight makes Anya and the dying captain panic slightly.
"W-what are you doing?" Anya stands in front of him defensively.
Arabella gives a confused look before realizing she didn't explain her intent.
"Oh, don't worry more than you need to. It's morphine to put Captain Curly to sleep while we move him to my ship and get everything situated. I figured it would be easier on both us and him. Since you would technically be his leading caregiver as the Pony Express nurse, you can decide if I should give him it or not."
Anya looks nervously at the syringe and Arabella. She thinks for a moment before sighing and relaxing, moving out of the way.
After a moment of no indication of a response, the captain simply turns his head to the side and up a little, as if he was offering his neck. Actually, he was offering his neck. A silent agreement to Arabella's words. She places the syringe up to his neck and pushes it in as gently as possible. He fidgets slightly from the pain but remains mostly calm. When it's in far enough, she pushes down so the morphine goes in and removes it as carefully as she put it in. It was fast acting and the old captain was unresponsive quick enough for Arabella to store the syringe in vial back in the med-kit before the rest of the crew approached.
"Go ahead..." She hangs her head low as if she's admitting defeat.
"Okay Captain Curly, if you can accept this shot gracefully, then when we get you on my ship and you wake up, I will have a proper conversation about my plans to get you all home. Well, about as proper of a conversation as we can." Arabella stands over him with the syringe, waiting.
"Are you all ready to go then?" Arabella asks.
"More than ready! I'm so homesick!" Daisuke responds in a cheery tone.
"Great, if one of you could carry Captain Curly to the loading area then almost everything is good to go. I'll help Anya get her stuff and take whatever is still of use from here. Can never have too much medical supplies." Arabella gives the order to no one in particular but Jimmy still scoffs and does it as if he was the one who was asked.
The crew, minus Anya, headed off to the loading area while Arabella and her worked on gathering whatever supplies weren't ruined. When they seemed to be far enough out of earshot, Arabella abruptly stopped.
"Where is your cockpit?"
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kkanabel · 1 month ago
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random little things that i never included: (my first ever published headcanons! omg!)
for my first mouthwashing fic:
co-pilot mischief pt i, ii, iii (but these can be mostly understood even w/o reading the whole fic)
curly switched over to one-armed push-ups after regular ones didn't work anymore.
he doesn't have any proper weights while on the tulpar, so he'd just have to do.
but even while he was trying to work out to clear his mind
he still thought about how it'd be so much more efficient if while he was doing push-ups, you were on top of him-
you once saw "caught" him while he was doing these push-ups and you were so confused about it
because why was he so embarrassed??
like yeah, curly, sure you were doing push-ups, so why are you blushing so hard??? what's the problem with that ??
you didnt get it bc u didnt even do anything yet
and youd be thinking later like "aight let's see what's on today's menu... hmm im feeling like 'accidentally' bumping my ass into curly's crotch today!" just to try and get him to be more flustered
blushing curly~
idea from one of my ao3 commentors: (big thank you to hanisia for the idea <3)
God this was so amazing I might need the aftermath 😭 the fact you mentioned the lead asking if they could walk later sounds funny, I would actually die to read about that situation happening and Curly just being there to help us out to make sure nobody gets the idea😭😭
both of you waking up the morning after and you can't really feel your legs & youre sore everywhere
sure, curly was sore ESPECIALLY in his legs & ass from all the thrusting, but you were... nearly bedridden
he felt so, so bad
he was so apologetic like "hon, i'm so, so sorry. i made such a mistake i- i can't believe i did this to you. please feel free to kick me." he says, panicked, eyes all shifty and guilty.
you rolled your eyes "really, curly? your way of making it up to me is domestic violence?" while trying not to laugh and he's like
"domestic? wait. you want to be official..? like,,, partners?"
like THAT'S WHAT YOU FOCUS ON?
you cant find it in yourself to correct him. he looked overjoyed-
a little spark in his eye you've never seen before. his pretty, plump lips curling into a grin with such joy
he's absolutely ecstatic at just the idea that you'll be official with him.
even when you let him finish insid-
multiple times-
HOW COULD YOU SAY NO ?
but anyway
youre still mf bedridden
so you both have to come up with some explanation for the crewmembers.
by "you both", i mean curly. it's just curly. it doesn't matter much to you. you dont need to talk to anybody--especially because he refused to let you move an inch after that whole... all night non-stop f***ing situation.
so you just get to lay back & relax as you hear the voices of your newly-crowned partner, curly
and your crewmates
and it's just "our well-adored co-pilot has mentioned that they will be unable to work for the next couple days due to the flu."
they all look at him in horror
...swansea, of course, is the first person to say anything. "damn it captain, we all heard you last night. we don't mind--we're actually damn glad that you both finally fixed the level of tension--but if i wake up one more time to those disgusting noises, i will lock you in the cockpit until you starve."
....curly didn't even refute him
anya, ever the sweetest person: "congrats, captain curly :)" and doesnt say much else and walks away as if she mf knew from the start that you two had something going on.
hell, she seemed like she knew that he had something for you before YOU even realized
daisuke is just like "what are they talking about? what happened, captain curly?" and poor daisuke is just thinking like "hmm, maybe there was some sorta commotion. my dreams were louder than usual."
and curly can't even bring himself to tell the truth before swansea steps in and whisks away the confused guy to the utility room for his internship activities.
curly, ever the guilty and remorseful gentleman, brings every meal to you while you're still in his bed, recovering.
he scrounged up an instant mac and cheese that he gave you from his own secret stash. WITH EXTRA CHEESE.
even figured out how to make a ponyexpress-given-ingredients-only noodle soup for you. using nutrient packs and random canned items.
it was pretty good, too.
helped you shower & it took everything in him to not just take you again in the bathroom
you wouldn't have been opposed, but recovering was proooobably the best course of action.
when you come back, anya gives you the eye at breakfast. you could see it written all over her face when she said:
"i hope to see you in the medbay soon so make sure that you're recovering properly."
translation: you need to tell me everything.
AND YOU MOST CERTAINLY DID
a/n : first ever headcanon shared bro what did i do okay or am i like going too in-depth bc im writing this the same way i normally do w my notes before i write a fic (except my real notes are way more chaotic & vulgar) lmk if yall wanna see that stuff for fics ive alr posted LMAO like a behind the scenes or sum
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co-pilot mischief ✫ curly concerns ✫ chapter uno
captain curly x teasing!reader
curly panics when he realizes he's attracted to his co-pilot. a mixture of professionalism and fear of making you uncomfortable are keeping him from pursuing his feelings. so, when you find out that he has a thing for you, you tease him to see how long it'll take for him to give up.
directory/m.list next chapter ⇨
words: ~3.5k
t/w: sexual references but no actual yucky (yet), reader being lowkey sadistic, cute curly <3, gn!reader/pronouns but reader wears a bra
a/n: hi. been obsessed with this video game recently—well, especially with Curly (go figure. i like fictional men). i needed to make something self-indulgent bc i just like this man way too much. and because i just want to make a world where none of them have to suffer. enjoy~ 
~jambalaya does not exist in this world~
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Planned Shipment Duration: 382 Days Elapsed Transit Time: 292 Days
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It had been over nine months aboard this damned ship, and Curly was just short of going mad. Not the kind of madness that came with sleep deprivation—he’d conquered that particular beast long ago, his body numb to the restless nights. No, this madness was quieter, more insidious, burrowing into his mind and refusing to leave. It trailed him through the claustrophobic halls of the Tulpar, slipping into the smallest crevices of his day-to-day. The worst part was, he knew exactly what caused it.
Or rather, who.
His co-pilot. The bane of his existence. The source of his sanity slipping through his fingers like sand.
Curly groaned and scrubbed his face with his hands, his calloused palms dragging over stubble. The cockpit was bathed in the green glow of the ship’s display panels, casting long shadows over his hunched figure. For once, he was alone. His co-pilot was off—God knows where—and he was left to grapple with the gnawing frustration that never seemed to diminish. It wasn’t the kind of irritation that burned; it simmered, steady and unyielding, until it became part of the fabric of his thoughts, melting like wax into his very being.
He could see their handwriting on the little sticky notes scattered around the console, each one an infuriatingly sweet reminder to stretch, drink water, or take a break. He tried to ignore the way those notes made him feel a little lighter, even when he wanted to crumple them up out of spite. Then there were the meals—hot, fresh, and left beside him during the long hours he spent poring over ship diagnostics on days he’d forget to come to the main lobby for food. Like clockwork, they arrived, a silent reminder that someone out there cared. Too much, in fact.
It wasn’t the fact that they’d climbed the ranks with startling efficiency or that they were nipping at his heels for his own position. But the issue wasn’t their competence. Hell, he’d been the one to recommend them to the crew. No, the problem—the real problem—was that he didn’t mind the notes. Or the meals. Or the way their laugh lingered in his head long after the joke had ended.
That was the crux of it: he didn’t mind. He cared too much.
Curly growled under his breath and pushed himself out of his chair, dropping into a push-up position before the thought could take hold again. One. Two. Three. The strain burned through his biceps and shoulders, grounding him in something tangible. In the beginning, this ritual had worked. Twenty push-ups, and he’d feel clear-headed enough to get back to work. But now? He was well into quadrupling that number, and the haze in his mind hadn’t lifted.
“Damn it,” he muttered, shifting to one-armed push-ups. Sweat beaded on his brow, but his thoughts remained stubbornly fixed.
It was their fault. The way they lingered in his peripheral vision during late-night shifts, always a step ahead of him. The way their presence filled the cockpit, electric and steady, as if the entire ship ran on their quiet energy. He hated it. He needed it.
Curly collapsed onto the floor, the cool metal pressing against his flushed skin. He rolled onto his back, staring up at the dull ceiling, and exhaled sharply. But it wasn’t their fault. It was all his.
Because no matter how many push-ups he did or how hard he worked, he couldn’t seem to outrun the one truth he hated most: he was falling for his co-pilot, and there was no way to make it stop.
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It all started so innocently.
A couple of months ago, when Curly’s sleep was deteriorating thanks to the unholy cocktail of chronic insomnia and the Pony Express directive of “only indulging in five hours of sleep a night,” the signs of wear were becoming impossible to hide. His dark circles deepened, hollowing out his features, and the number of minor piloting errors he made began creeping upward. He hated slipping up, especially in front of the crew. But you had been there, catching the mistakes before anyone else could notice, your tone warm and forgiving as you covered for him without a single reproach.
“How many hours of sleep did you get last night, Captain?” you asked, glancing at him with a knowing arch of your brow. The question was less accusatory and more concerned, which somehow made it worse.
The third time you caught him in the cockpit, chugging yet another cup of bitter instant coffee, you sighed with exasperation. He barely had time to process what you were doing before you nudged him toward the door with a bottle of melatonin clutched in your hand.
“Rest, Captain,” you said firmly, standing your ground in front of him with a tilt to your chin that tolerated no argument. “Don’t go abusing yourself—and caffeine—like that. Do me a favor and take one of these with some water. I’ve got the ship tied down.”
Before he could retort, you physically pushed him through the doorway and locked the cockpit door behind him. He stared at the bottle of melatonin in his hand, blinking in confusion, his mind too fogged with exhaustion to properly argue. He barely made it to his quarters without bumping into a wall. Still, he heeded your demand.
When he woke up hours later, groggy but undeniably more refreshed than he’d felt in weeks, he returned to the cockpit to find the door unlocked and you sitting in his chair, nursing a steaming cup of water between your hands.
The smile you gave him as he walked in—small, gentle—made something in his chest falter, like the ship had hit a pocket of turbulence. He ignored it, chalking the reaction up to gratitude. “Thanks,” he muttered before reclaiming his chair.
That should have been it. A one-off moment. But it wasn’t.
The next time was when you came bounding into the cockpit, an excited glint in your eyes, holding a bundle of old films scavenged from storage. “Look what I found!” you exclaimed, dropping them onto the console as if they were treasures unearthed from a sunken ship. The crew’s old stash of classic movies. You suggested a movie night, and by the weekend, everyone was gathered in the living area, dressed in mismatched pajamas as per your insistence.
The fake day-and-night screen in the living room had been converted into a movie screen (thanks to a favor from Swansea), and you’d somehow transformed the cramped space into a cozy theater. The crew was laughing, the air thick with the buttery aroma of popcorn—smuggled aboard in direct defiance of Pony Express regulations. Swansea lounged in a corner, throwing popcorn into his mouth with perfect aim, while Daisuke and Anya shared a bag of candy bars, their laughter ringing out during the film’s funniest moments.
And then there was you, looking at the rest of the crew, a relieved smile on your face from seeing them having fun and relaxing.
You’d curled up on the couch with bunny slippers, wearing an oversized t-shirt that reached down to your knees. Curly found himself staring at the way your legs curled up in front of you, the smooth skin catching the flickering light of the screen. He shook his head and willed himself to look back at the film, feeling an odd mix of discomfort and… something else.
It wasn’t just your legs that had caught his attention. He watched your shoulders relax as you looked at the others having a good time. From your shoulders, his eyes slowly trailed up to your neck,
There was the lace halter bralette peeking out from the neckline of your shirt, delicate and intricate, its strap circling your neck like a whisper of fabric. He’d overheard you mention it in passing to Anya once, saying how they were more comfortable than traditional bras. Cute, you’d said. Anya had agreed wholeheartedly, and the two of you had launched into an entire conversation about comfortable alternatives, leaving him both bewildered and hyper-aware of the intricacies of brassiers.
That night, you’d tied your hair up, sweeping it off your face and revealing the curve of your neck. He hated how his eyes kept trailing there, lingering too long on the strap of your bralette before snapping back to the screen.
What was wrong with him?
The laughter of the crew filled the room, but Curly’s focus was elsewhere. He watched the way your shoulders relaxed as you leaned back, your smile warm and unguarded as you looked at the others enjoying themselves. It had been a rough couple of weeks, but in that moment, you looked so at ease, like you were carrying everyone’s joy on your shoulders and doing it gladly.
His gaze drifted again, following the line of your neck up to your jaw and almost to your lips before he froze, his chest tightening with realization. He was staring. Stop it, you creep. His heart thudded in his chest, the weight of his guilt sinking in. The last thing he ever wanted was to make you uncomfortable, to let you see just how hopelessly he was starting to lose control of his own feelings.
And yet, even as he looked away, forcing his attention back to the film, the memory of your smile lingered in his mind, burning as brightly as a star in space.
Later that night, after the crew had dispersed to their quarters, Curly lingered in the living area. The faint smell of popcorn still hung in the air, and empty mugs cluttered the low table, remnants of the impromptu movie night.
He hadn’t planned to stay, but you were still there, stacking empty bowls with practiced efficiency. You hummed softly as you worked, the sound low and content.
“You don’t have to clean up,” he said, his voice startlingly loud in the quiet.
You glanced at him over your shoulder, an easy smile spreading across your face. “Neither do you, Captain. Yet here you are.”
Curly looked so charming, sweeping up the crumbs from the ground with a bashful smile. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Force of habit, I guess.”
He stepped forward and started gathering stray candy wrappers. You didn’t protest, and the two of you worked in companionable silence. The only sounds were the soft clink of mugs and the occasional hum from the ship’s systems.
“Thanks for tonight,” he said suddenly, his voice quieter. He kept his eyes on the mug in his hand, turning it absently. “I think… the crew needed it.”
You paused, a little surprised. “Needed what?”
“A break. A reminder that things aren’t always so…” He trailed off, searching for the word. “Mechanical.”
You laughed softly, and the sound was warm enough to make his chest ache. “Even machines need downtime, Captain. And so do you.”
He glanced at you, his resolve faltering as you met his gaze head-on. Your eyes were steady, soft, and full of something he couldn’t quite name. For a moment, the ship felt too small, the air too thin.
“I guess I’ll work on that,” he said, forcing a crooked smile and dropping his gaze.
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As the months passed, his little problem only got worse.
It started as little things.
The way Curly’s voice would soften when he said your name, like he was tasting it before letting it leave his mouth. How he always seemed to position himself between you and anything remotely dangerous during routine checks, even if the “danger” was just a loose panel or a slightly sparking wire. You noticed those things before, but they hadn’t meant much to you at the time.
But lately, you’ve started picking up on more.
Like how he fidgets whenever you lean over his chair to point something out on the cockpit screen. Or how his ears turn red if your hand brushes his when passing tools or data tablets. At first, you think it’s funny—how someone so competent and in control can get so flustered over little things. But then, there’s the moment in the Main Lobby.
You’re digging through one of the upper cabinets, on the hunt for something sweet, when you hear his boots scuff against the floor behind you.
“You’re always after the chocolate in the vending machine,” he says, leaning casually against the counter like he isn’t watching you a little too closely.
“And you’re always after the coffee,” you quip, holding up a ration bar triumphantly.
“Touché.” His lips twitch into a smile, and you can’t help but notice how his eyes linger on you just a moment too long before he turns to grab his mug from the shelf.
It’s not unusual—this kind of back-and-forth—but as you open the bar and break off a piece, you catch him glancing at you again, almost like he’s about to say something. He doesn’t, though, and the moment stretches long enough to feel... significant.
That’s when it starts clicking.
The lingering looks. The slight hesitation in his voice when he talks to you. The way he goes out of his way to make sure you’re comfortable, even when he doesn’t have to. The realization settles in your chest, warm and a little thrilling.
Does Curly like me?
Your mind starts replaying recent moments with a new lens. The way he always pulls you aside first to explain changes to the schedule. How he always offers to carry extra supplies during inspections, even when you insist you’re fine. That time he casually gave you his jacket when the living quarters were colder than usual, like it was no big deal.
“Earth to you,” Curly says, snapping you out of your thoughts. He’s holding out a water pouch, his brow slightly furrowed. “You zoned out there for a second. You okay?”
You take the pouch and give him a smile. “Yeah. Just thinking.”
“About what?”
You tilt your head, studying him, and your smile widens when he shifts under your gaze. “Nothing important.”
It’s a lie, of course. You’re thinking about him—about how he looks at you when he thinks you’re not paying attention, about how he tries so hard to act unaffected when you’re around.
And for the first time, you feel a little wicked. If Curly likes you, why not have a little fun with it?
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Curly knew something was off the moment you walked into the cockpit.
It wasn’t just the way you greeted him, your voice light and playful as always. It was the way your smile lingered, like you were holding onto a secret you couldn’t wait to let out.
“You’re up early,” you said, dropping into your seat beside him.
“Could say the same for you,” Curly muttered, keeping his eyes on the console. He was grateful for the excuse to look busy, though the screen in front of him was just a diagnostic report he’d already read three times.
“You’re always so serious, Captain.” Your tone was teasing, but there was something else beneath it, something that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
He didn’t respond, didn’t trust himself to.
The silence stretched, and just when he thought you’d moved on, you leaned closer—close enough for him to catch the faint scent of whatever soap you used.
“Hey, Curly?”
His stomach flipped. “Yeah?”
You paused, drawing it out, like you were savoring his anticipation. Then, with a sly grin, you said, “You’re staring.”
“I’m not—” He froze, his heart skipping a beat. “What?”
“You are,” you insisted, your grin widening. “You’ve been staring at that same report for the last ten minutes. What’s so interesting about it?”
Curly’s mouth went dry. He scrambled for an answer, but his mind betrayed him, replaying every fleeting glance he’d stolen of you earlier that morning. How long had you noticed?
When he didn’t respond, you leaned back in your chair, smug satisfaction written all over your face. “Relax, Captain. I’m just messing with you.”
But you weren’t. Not entirely.
Because as you watched the tips of his ears turn pink and saw how his jaw tightened, you realized something. Something that made your pulse quicken and your lips curl into a wicked smile.
He likes me.
And now that you knew, you couldn’t help yourself.
Curly swore the ship’s cockpit had never felt this small before.
You were now hovering just over his shoulder, leaning in to inspect a blinking diagnostic alert on the screen. The proximity was maddening—he could feel the warmth radiating off you, the sleeve of your Pony Express jumpsuit brushing against his arm every time you moved.
“Hmm,” you mused, tilting your head. “Looks like a minor power fluctuation. Nothing to worry about, but we should log it for the next maintenance check.”
He nodded stiffly, trying to focus on your words instead of the fact that your hair was so close it tickled his cheek. “Right. I’ll, uh, take care of it.”
But when he reached for the keyboard, so did you. Your fingers grazed his, and you both froze.
“Sorry,” you said, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes. A playful smile tugged at your lips, and he didn’t trust it for a second. “Didn’t mean to get in your way, Captain.”
“It’s fine,” he muttered, turning back to the screen. But his fingers trembled slightly as he typed, and he cursed himself for it.
“You know,” you said, leaning against the edge of the console, your voice deceptively casual. “You look good when you’re focused like that.”
He nearly choked. “What?”
“I said you look good when you’re focused.” You shrugged, like it was the most normal, casual thing in the world. “It’s kind of intimidating, actually. In a good way.”
His face burned, and he fought the urge to bury it in his hands. “I—uh—thanks, I guess...”
The smile you gave him was nothing short of devilish. “You’re welcome.”
You stayed there, watching him a little too closely, and he could feel his pulse thudding in his ears. Finally, he risked a glance at you, only to find you tilting your head with mock innocence.
“Everything okay, Captain?”
“Yeah,” he said quickly, focusing hard on the screen. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Oh, no reason.” Your voice was light, teasing. “You just seem a little... tense.”
He stiffened, embarrassed and confused as to what you were doing but powerless to stop it.
“You know,” you continued, leaning a little closer again, “you really should loosen up. It’s not good for your health to be so serious all the time.”
“I’m not—” He cleared his throat. “I’m fine.”
“Hmm.” You studied him for a moment, and then, with a mischievous glint in your eyes, you added, “If you ever need help relaxing, Captain, just let me know.”
He froze, his brain short-circuiting at the double meaning behind your words.
Before he could stammer out a response, you straightened up, patting him lightly on the shoulder. “Anyway, I’ll leave you to it. Don’t work too hard, okay?”
And just like that, you were gone, leaving him alone in the cockpit, his heart racing and his mind a chaotic mess.
He groaned, burying his face in his hands. He was doomed. Absolutely doomed.
From the moment you saw Curly’s ears turn red, his fate was sealed. You’d never imagined the stoic, dependable captain could be reduced to such an adorable mess, and now that you’d seen it, there was no going back. It was just too cute—the way his bravado would falter, his words stumbling over themselves as he tried and failed to maintain composure.
Normally, Curly was all broad shoulders and easy charm, his commanding presence impossible to ignore. But you’d discovered a crack in that armor, a secret button that turned him from the ever-confident leader into a flustered, helpless schoolboy. And oh, what a delightful button it was to press.
You’d always found him attractive—how could you not? He was responsible, dependable, and unfairly handsome. But for the longest time, you assumed he’d only ever see you as his co-pilot, someone to rely on professionally but never personally. Yet now, the way his gaze lingered a moment too long, the subtle flush on his cheeks whenever you got a little too close, told you a very different story.
It gave you a strange, heady sense of power, and you had absolutely no intention of letting it go to waste.
A small, wicked thrill ran through you whenever you imagined the possibilities. What if you teased him just enough to make that carefully controlled exterior crumble? What if you pushed him to the edge, until he couldn’t hold it in any longer? Your mind wandered to a particularly wonderful thought: Curly, unable to take it anymore, bending you over the console with a heated, desperate confession.
You shivered, the fantasy almost too delicious to bear.
And so, your mission began—not to reject him, but to push him. To tease and torment, to watch his resolve unravel thread by thread. You weren’t cruel, not really. You knew he’d crack eventually, and you planned to reward him handsomely when he did. But until then?
Until then, you’d savor every stolen glance, every stammered reply, every moment he tries and fails to hold himself together.
After all, what was a little mischief between co-pilots?
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a/n: let me know what y'all think! biggest thank yous to those who have written curly x reader fics thus far, y'all fueled me lmfao.
oh yeah.. smut.. eventually...
taglist is open! lmk if you want to be on the taglist for just curly/mouthwashing characters or if you want the news on alll my fics... also might be accepting requests hehe! i can't guarantee that i can do em, but i'll accept ideas!
thanks for reading! <3
btw. not beta read, please let me know if there are any typos or inconsistencies stay safe & hydrated as always!
(and go to sleep if you're reading this super late. don't be a curly. take care of yourself! (i say, writing this at midnight))
crossposted on ao3
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directory/m.list next chapter ⇨
474 notes · View notes
dialovers-translations · 4 years ago
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DIABOLIK LOVERS Do-S Kyuuketsu VERSUS Ⅱ Vol.6 Yuma VS Azusa [TRACK 2]
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Original title: 欠ける月を見ながら
Source: Diabolik Lovers VERSUS II Vol. 6 Yuma VS Azusa [CD not owned by me]
Audio: Here
Seiyuu: Tatsuhisa Suzuki & Kishio Daisuke
Translator’s note: I have no words. I swear the last few minutes of this track are just Rejet having way too much fun. You cannot convince me that they wrote that without knowing that it could EASILY be taken the wrong way. I mean, the whole situation isn’t exactly ‘innocent’ either way but it sounds even more dirty than it is. I’m not gonna try and hide either ーー my mind went straight to the gutter as soon as Yuma suggested she uses her hands instead of her mouth. If you’re curious what I’m talking about, you’ll have to read the translation. ;)
Track 1 ll Track 2 ll Track 3 ll Track 4 ll Track 5 ll Track 6
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Track 2: While Gazing at the Chipped Moon
Yuma: For a basement, it’s brighter in here than I thought. Is there a window on the ceiling or somethin’? 
You follow suit.
Yuma: Ah? What’s wrong? ...Ahー Ya pissin’ yer pants? ...I don’t mind. Come here.
Yuma hugs you close.
*Rustle*
Yuma: Just stay close to me, ‘kay? ...Take a look! Right above ya! There’s a big hole to look through! ...Aah, seems like this basement is right underneath the garden. 
You look up.
Yuma: They’re a bunch of dried up branches layin’ ‘round the edges of the garden. I had no idea this kinda room was underneath it. I’m surprised. 
*Rustle*
Yuma: ...Well, I guess it helps brighten up this place a lil’ without any lights ‘round, so I don’t see a problem with it. 
Something catches his attention.
Yuma: ...Oh? 
You ask what is wrong.
Yuma: No, it’s just...Ya can see the moon through that hole, right? Take a closer look. It’s slowly bein’ chipped away at. ...What was it called again? A lunar eclipse? Ya don’t see that every day. It’s my first time seein’ one.
You agree.
Yuma: You too? Hm...I see. Well, I guess we got lucky. It’s a rare sight after all. Too bad it’s from inside this creepy room.
You tilt your head to the side.
Yuma: This room just screams ‘creepy’, no? Ya still haven’t noticed? What kind of room this is, I mean. Take a good look around.
You look around.
Yuma: There’s a bunch of strange devices, right? Ya better don’t try and act like ya don’t know what these are. 
You reluctantly answer.
Yuma: Exactly...Hehehe...Seems like this was the pentalty room. In other words, the items lined up here and there are what you’d call torture devices
*Cling cling*
Yuma: Take a look at these handcuffs. It’s still got blood on there. Means these bad boys got used at some point. Seems like the previous owner of this manor was a shitbag who loved pickin’ on the weak. 
*Cling*
Yuma: There’s freaks like that crawlin’ ‘round the surface of this earth, ya see...They either get a kick out of tormentin’ others, or enjoy gettin’ teased themselves. ...Ah, right. Ya love that sorta stuff as well, no? Hehehe...
You quickly deny.
*Cling cling*
Yuma: Now that we discovered this hidden gem, it’d be a shame not to use the room to its fullest potential, right? ーー To start things off. 
*Cling*
Yuma: I’ll put these handcuffs on ya like this. Hehe...
You protest.
Yuma: How does it feel to get robbed of yer freedom?
You beg him to take them off again. 
Yuma: Ah...Lemme think. If ya want me to remove them that badly, don’t ya think ya should adjust yer attitude a lil’? 
*Rustle rustle*
Yuma: Come on...Tell me what to do. Woah there, don’t look away. I’ve taken away yer freedom, so ya better keep yer eyes on me. 
*Rustle*
Yuma: Exactly. Hehe...Nice expression. Bet ya didn’t think I’d do this, right? ...For some reason, I’m in a weird mood right now. Could that moon be to blame? I feel restless...in a different way from usual. I don’t really get it, but it has taken control over me, and I can’t help but have this strong cravin’ for...you. Mmh...”
Yuma kisses you passionately.
Yuma: I want to make you cry, make you submit to me...and have you admit the most obscene things. Mmh...
*Smooch*
Yuma: Hm? ...Hah. Judgin’ by yer face, ya just felt yer heart skip a beat, didn’t ya? Bet ya don’t find this all too bad, huh? Fine by me. I’ll do as ya wish. Come on, brace yerself. 
*Rustle*
Yuma: What do ya want? Should I just leave some kisses here and there? Like this...Mmh...
*Smooch*
You flinch.
Yuma: Or do ya prefer the pain? Ya want these fangs, don’t ya? Haha...Don’t try and hide it. I know that you’re yearnin’ for them. However, I won’t give them to ya ーー not this easily at least. That’d be borin’ as hell, right? We’ve got this convenient room to our disposal after all...
*Cling cling*
Yuma: Makes ya wanna try and push yer boundaries a lil’, no? Hehe...Let’s leave the main course for last and enjoy some stuff we usually never get to do. Nn...
*Rustle*
Yuma: This is a whip, right? No doubt in mind that guy used this to torment those poor little lambs. ...Didn’t I tell ya earlier, there’s people who need that sorta kick. Perhaps I’m one of them as well? When I picture your expression as you fight back the pain...It sends shivers down my spine.
*Rustle*
Yuma: Ahn? I’m not actin’ like myself? Ya think so? Hah. Then this room and the moon might be messin’ with my head. I shouldn’t be interested in lil’ games enjoyed by those disgustin’ noblemen. If anythin’, they used to make me gag...So I wonder why I’m havin’ so much fun right now? ...Could this be my true colors showin’...?
*SMACK*
Yuma: Heh. This bad boy makes quite the sound. ...Wait, what am I doin’? ...Aah, my bad. I felt a lil’ dizzy just now...There really is somethin’ wrong with me, huh? Ugh...
*Rustle*
Yuma: I...
You seem worried. 
Yuma: Hah. ...Haha. Just kidding~ 
You get upset.
Yuma: Ah? I was jokin’ just now. I wanted to see what kind of face you’d make, and just couldn’t help myself.
You protest.
Yuma: It looked convincin’? Don’t be fuckin’ kiddin’ me. I’m not the type of dude who would torment the weak, geez. Ya can’t even tell the difference between the truth and an act? Ya really are an idiot.
*Cling cling*
Yuma: There we go...Oi, lift yer hands a lil’ higher. I’m gonna remove the handcuffs.
You obey.
Yuma: Ahー The hole’s over here, right? ...’Kay. ...Huh?
*Cling cling*
Yuma: Ahn? ...That’s odd...I’m pretty sure this key...Ugh...Ah!
*Clunk*
Yuma: Ah...Fuck! It broke!
You make a fuss.
Yuma: Ah, hold on! Do ya really need to get that upset!? ...Hey! Don’t hit me!
*Thud thud*
Yuma: ...Calm down!! I can just chop off yer wrists and problem solvーー
You continue protesting.
 Yuma: ...I’m just kiddin’! Geez...I’m sure we’ll find a solution if we head upstairs. ...God, yer wrists are bleedin’. It’s ‘cause ya kept on movin’ ‘round. Does it hurt?
You nod.
Yuma: Guess I have no other choice. I’ll apply first aid.
Yuma licks the wound.
Yuma: There. Lil’ better now? ...Let’s say we’re even now, ‘kay?
You puff out your cheeks.
Yuma: Don’t hold it ‘gainst me. I was just curious how it’d feel to step out of my comfort zone for once. Don���t ya ever get that itch to try somethin’ new as well? ...More importantly, drinkin’ yer blood made me thirsty.
*Sluuuurp*
Yuma: After all, you’re like a delicious treat. Just a lil’ taste isn’t enough to satisfy us. ...Ah, yer blood really is nice. ...Say? Won’t ya let me feed off ya now that you’re stuck like this anyway? Ya don’t mind, do ya?
You hesitate. 
Yuma:  Ahー What a pain.I’ll take that silence as a yes. I’m not the most patient fella ‘round.
*Rustle*
Yuma: Now behave. I won’t hurt ya. 
Yuma bites you.
*Sluuuuurp*
Yuma: Mmh...Delicious...I can’t stop...
*Rustle*
Yuma: ...Gimme more...I’ll suck from this hand next. Mmh...
*Sluuuuurp*
Yuma: Mmh...Nn...
*Sluuuuurp*
Yuma: ...Haahー This is bad...I really went to town on ya, huh...Did it hurt? Or maybe it feels good? 
You whimper softly.
Yuma: Hehe...I wonder if it’s ‘cause ya had yer blood sucked while being handcuffed, but ya look as if ya enjoyed it way more than usual.
You seem embarrassed.
Yuma: No need to be ashamed. ...It’s too late for that. I’ve been showin’ ya my pathetic side as well, no? When I see yer blood...or get a wiff of it...I get so turned on, I lose sight of myself. However...
*Rustle*
Yuma: That blood of yers...
He sniffs it.
Yuma: Hmmー How strange, it doesn’t smell as strong as usually...Now that ya mention it, I feel as if it tastes different as well? The fuck’s goin’ on? ...Oi, Sow. Stop spacin’ out and look at me, come on!
He forces your face his way.
Yuma: ...Do ya notice anythin’ off ‘bout me?
You shake your head.
Yuma: Right? But ya know, something’s not right. ...Oi, inspect my body. I’m sure there’s somethin’ wrong with it.
You seem baffled.
Yuma: This time I’m serious. I’m not just teasin’ ya. Come on, hurry up.
You protest.
Yuma: Ahn? Ya can’t use yer hands? ...Well, I guess that’s true. But even without yer hands, you’ve got somethin’ else that’ll work just fine as a replacement, right?
You tilt your head to the side.
Yuma: Whatcha so confused ‘bout? I’m obviously talkin’ ‘bout that mouth of yers.
You seem surprised.
Yuma: Check my body thoroughly with those lips. ーー Oh come on, didn’t I tell you just now? I’m bein’ serious. 100% sincere. So, where ya wanna start? With my neck, perhaps?
*Rustle*
Yuma: Yeah, just start from there and take it nice and slow...What’s wrong? Are ya holdin’ back? ...Ya can be a little more rough, ya know?
*Rustle rustle*
Yuma: Ah...Your lips are so soft...Nn...It’s almost like someone is trailing a feather across a skin...Ah...
You sigh.
Yuma: Hah? Ya won’t be able to tell this way? You’re always so quick to decide without givin’ it a try, huh? How dull. Come on, get on with it already.
*Cling*
Yuma: Nn...Yeah, just like that...See? Ya can do it after all...Or are ya growin’ desperate now? Hahaha...Ya suddenly...picked up the pace...Nn...It tickles. Is this you’re way of takin’ revenge? ...Oh well, whatever.
You continue trailing your lips across his skin.
Yuma: Yeah, just keep goin’ like that...Nn...Carefully slide your lips across...Hah...Nn...Feels good...
*Rustle*
You ask if he’s doing this to tease you again.
Yuma: Hahaha...Guess I’m busted, huh?
*SMACK*
Yuma: ...Ow!! Did ya really need to hit me!? I was just havin’ some fun! For one, we wouldn’t need doctors if we could simply find out what’s wrong with someone’s body this way.
ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー
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lexsssu · 4 years ago
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Shall We Date: Worship Me AU - Uriel (Avatar of Chastity)
What if the MC gets transported to the Celestial Realm instead? What if the angels were the love interests?
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GENERAL HCs
Uriel — “The Flame of God/God is my Light”
Has a penchant for perfection
Give him a task and you bet your ass he’ll come back finished with results so phenomenal you’re sure that if you did it, there’s no way it would turn out this great
Reserved, but not exactly anti-social
It’s not that he doesn’t want to talk about himself whenever people ask about him, but it’s just that he thinks there are a million other things that are worth more to converse about than his exploits or the things he enjoyed
Chastity doesn’t just mean staying pure by abstaining from sexual relations and the lack of temptations one experiences, but being placed in the face of temptation and yet staying true to one’s morals. This is why Uriel doesn’t condemn anyone who decides to engage in such acts, whether within the sanctity of marriage or not, whether it is done because all parties hold sincere feelings for one another or not.
Gone is the ancient time and the rules that once applied then cannot be the same for current times. This is why Uriel has made it his mission to continuously study about humans, to stay up to date with the way they thought and felt so as he can better serve as a guiding beacon to them
When he’s not busy with his regular duties, you would normally find Uriel at the Celestial realm’s library with stacks of reference books on his table. Time is nothing to them, which is why for him it felt as if humans changed too quickly in so little time
An ideology that may have taken decades or centuries to form is but a blink of an eye to them which is why Mr. Perfectionist can’t help but immediately want to be informed in the hopes that it will help him improve himself
If he doesn’t keep adding and updating to his knowledge then how can he even hope to be one of the guiding virtues of humanity with outdated ideals?
Ideals can and will change over time, but his morals are the one thing that Uriel will never change.
His mind and body may be corrupted over time, because eternity is such a long time indeed, but the morals that made him who he is, what HE is will always stay the same
Tbh you can’t tempt this guy with anything
If you do manage to “tempt” him, know that you didn’t actually succeed but he just liked/pitied you enough to go with whatever fuckery you wanted him to commit
That's why he normally agrees with whatever bullshit his twin brother, Gabriel, tries to wrangle him into
Uriel ain't doing it because Gabriel tempted him, but because he loved his twin so much that he's willing to indulge him whenever he wanted to fuck shit up
Gabriel is the one who starts messes and Uriel is the one who just lets him be, because he's a supportive big brother
...Much to most of the other virtues' ever increasing stress
Is an advocate of "actions speak louder than words"
He's a serial head-patter
Will boop your nose when he notices you're a bit too lost in your thoughts
Azrael is normally the victim of his headpats and nose-boops
Since he makes it his job to know all that IS known, he finds some modicum of interest in that of the UNknown
Things like extraterrestrial beings for example. Basically, anything that didn't belong to any of the 3 worlds was within his scope of interest
If you check his YouTube history you'll see it's filled with UFO sightings, conspiracy theories, UMAs, etc.
Probably joined that raid in Area 51 while undercover—
Asks Gabriel to bring him souvenirs and pictures whenever his job takes him to a location near hotspots for UMAs, UFOs, and other strange otherworldly phenomena
Reminds Azrael every now and then to inform him if he ever ferries a soul that had come across any UMA and ask them about their encounter
As the virtue of chastity, it's up to him to teach the little cherubims about the birds and the bees as part of their training to become full-fledged angels
More often than not, his terminology and clinical way of explaining has traumatized most of the little ones…
...much to Raphael's increasing stress
"And then the man will place his pe*** inside the woman's va**** where he would start thrusting continu—"
What's worse is that he even has diagrams for it
So many little cherubims lost their innocence to Uriel-sensei…
He doesn't purposely try to annoy Raphael unlike Gabriel, it's just that his actions and way of going about things aren't the way most people would fo it and what's worse is that he unintentionally traumatizes people
And it's usually up to Raphael to do damage control on all the virtues' behalf
Raphael almost killed him that day he had to give that talk to Luke and his batch
"...What's wrong about telling them what happens between a man and a woman? It's biology and something that's done frequently by humans"
He doesn't see the point of beating around the bush when their purpose was to teach the new recruits about humanity and everything about them, including how they reproduce
Favorite food is pancakes…
...because they look like flying saucers
Uriel enjoys stargazing at night, not just to look at the heavenly bodies but to spot any UFOs if he's lucky enough
He isn't particularly bad at cooking, but he's not great either
Pancakes are what he's most confident in cooking and he makes the best darn ones in all of the celestial realm
If he's the only one left at home and you're sick, don't expect chicken soup and be ready instead for a stack of warm and fluffy pancakes topped with some butter and generous helping of syrup, whipped cream, berries, and etc.
When the day finally comes that he falls in love with someone...the 3 worlds will know true fear—
But legit though, all those millennia of being a single pringle and practicing so much restraint flies out the window when this man finds himself utterly and deeply in love with you
JP VA: Daisuke Ono
ENG VA: Matthew Mercer
ROMANTIC HCs
He's read so much about the different forms of love and has felt them all except for romantic love so he's a bit rattled at first
Probably coops himself up in his room for a day or two to get his bearings
When he does finally step foot out of his room, there isn't any obvious changes at first but you can't help but feel that there's something different about Uriel
Uriel is now a man on a mission
As perfectly as he executed his tasks for millennia, as fierce as he wielded his flaming sword during the Great War against the rebels, and as ruthless as he was when he faced the truly wicked…
…Uriel will have you
Of course, regardless of how much he wanted you to become his that didn't mean he suddenly turned into some sort of barbaric brute that kidnapped women for sport
He will study you so thoroughly that at times it almost feels like he knows you more than you know yourself
The little mannerisms you make during your everyday life that escape your notice? It's a given that Uriel has seen and already safely filed them away in his mind for future reference
"...She likes pointing with her lips?...Cute…" What he wouldn't give to catch you doing that while he was with you so he could partake of your lips as well—
Once he’s interested in you, only God knows at this point what has to be done for him to even lose a small bit of it
You have essentially become a key figure in Uriel’s world
Uriel always has you at the back of his mind to the point that it could even be called obsessive
However, he’s still the virtue of chastity so you don’t have to worry about him ever forcing himself upon you or anything of that sort
He’s super clingy and sorta weird, but he loves you and the last thing he wanted is for you to become sad because of him or anything else
Though he honestly can’t deny that seeing the myriad of expressions on your face, from happiness to sadness, to surprise, excitement, anger, and etc. was one of his favorite hobbies ever since falling for you
Despite his earnest wish to make you his, Uriel surprisingly takes a long time to even confess
He’s a perfectionist so it’s a given that he’ll take everything into account, including how he’ll make you fall for him first before he even thinks about confessing
Bothers Raphael for some “research material” on how to woo you a.k.a. borrow some romance manga despite Raph’s initial protests
For the sake of his own sanity, Raph begrudgingly lends Uri his stash of romance manga
It’s both hilarious and somewhat disturbing to see how taken he is with something other than work and UMAs
Amused: Michael, Cainabel, Gabriel, Simeon
Scared/Disturbed: Raphael, Luke
Neutral/Confused: Seraphiel, Azrael
Secretly plays the alto saxophone, but doesn’t deem his skill worthy enough for you to hear so he practices when he’s absolutely sure that no one is there to hear him when his skills aren’t yet up to his standards
Lowkey jealous when you hangout with the demon brothers and tries to find ways to distract you from hanging out with them
“ I seem to have seen a creature most extraordinary earlier. I believe it was one of the UMAs detailed in the tome for mysterious dwellers of the nether. Mayhaps you’d like to accompany me on a hunt? ”
His face is as straight-laced as it always is, but if you knew him long enough and looked closer, you’d notice that his ears seemed to have the slightest twinge of redness to them.
Honestly speaking, he tries to be a smooth and cool boi when it comes to you, but this dork seems to lose all his tact when faced with the radiance of your eyes and the intensity of your smile
With how long it takes him to make everything perfect before he woo’s you, time and space itself will cease to exist before he finally deems himself ready
So you have to do the wooing yourself and show him that you love all of him, imperfections and quirkiness included
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shadowtarot · 6 years ago
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(Thieves in Inaba.) Was the kidnapped person a social link? Could it be Adachi?!
Thieves In Inaba Part 34
Okina City, Thirty Minutes From The Kidnapping. 
Kou is looking over the civilians, seeing who all is injured and helping out as needed. While still a bit shaken up from the shadow attack, he has a lot more of his composure back. 
“Those monster wolf things sure were crazy…where’d they even come from anyhow?” He mutters, looking around at the damaged windows and plant life around the shopping center. 
Daisuke, his friend, walks up to where he is and joins him in looking at the damage. “Hard to say, that guy Ryuji never bothered to explain it to us. But do you think he and his pals might have been the Phantom Thieves?”
“What? Don’t be stupid, those guys went off radar for a while now. Plus they’re Phantom Thieves, do you really think they’d just show up late afternoon where they could be easily identified?” Kou rolls his eyes at his friend’s suggestion. 
“I mean…you don’t know them personally so how could you claim to know how they operate?” Daiuske retorts. 
“I..well. Whatever.” Kou shrugs the whole topic off. “But you know what has me more confused? Yu. We saw him and a lot of the others he used to hang out with run into the area where Ryuji’s friends went. And they had weapons on them. All of them. What do you think this means?”
“Maybe we should stop by the blacksmith’s and pick up some weapons for ourselves?” The soccer player suggests. “Or..do you mean something else?”
“Obviously I mean something else. You saw those weird powers, we could barely outrun those things and yet that group of masked teens were blasting them like they were in some sorta RPG.” Kou scratches his head in confusion. “What should we be doing? Watching after the evacuees is important and all…but I kinda feel like we should do more.”
The two begin to talk about possible things they can to, when the sounds of a pack of wolves howling can be heard. The shadows have returned and they located where their prey is. 
“Shit! None of those guys are here man. What do we do?” Daisuke is visibly nervous. 
“We…we have to try. If we can keep them focused on us long enough for Kazushi to get everyone to a more enclosed area, we’ll be okay.” Kou gulps, but stands his ground as he grabs a broken bit of a bench leg to defend himself, Daisuke doing the same. 
The shadows growl before dashing at them. Neither of the Strengh holders back down however, staying as firmly planted as possible. They needed to buy that time, but for how long could they? 
Just then, a pair of gunshots ring out as two members of the Shadow Wolf pack fall limp before dissolving into nothingness. 
“Wait..is that…” Kou is looking up at the source, to see two figures with guns still smoking from the shot, the one on the right has a duffel bag on them and seems very familiar to the sports duo. That same one smirks
“Hey kid, if you really want to die this bad you should know there’s better ways of doing it.” 
“Touru Adachi…you’re supposed to be locked up. How the hell are you out?!” Kou yells at him. 
“Look, I could explain, or you could get the hell out of here. I don’t really care either way, but I have my reasons for being here and it doesn’t involve having a friendly conversation.” He turns back to the shadow pack as he readies to fire again. 
His partner, who hasn’t spoken a single word readies their gun as well. They seem just as well trained. Or at least well practiced.
Kou however, refuses to back down, running to join the two. “I’ll help! I don’t fully trust you to not just try something.” He gets into a ready stance. 
“Are you deaf or stupid?” Adachi glares. “Eh, whatever. Your funeral.” 
The shadows go after Adachi and his ally, both of whom fight them off easily…at first. The partner seems to be struglling a bit as they fight. 
“Hey, I thought you said you could fight. Or were you just trying to look good?” Adachi seems to be annoyed that he has to pick up his partner’s slack. 
“….I told you earlier…I’d need a sword to get the job done efficiently…” They respond, in a hushed voice as if to trying to not be heard by anyone. 
Adachi rolls his eyes. “Sure. That toy you had would have done wonders.”
In the midst of their arguing however, a wolf manages to grab Kou. He yells out, causing the duo to refocus their efforts on the shadows. 
“Tch, we could just shoot the thing and it’d drop the kid.” 
“But then we risk the bullet hitting him.” The partner looks at Adachi as if telling him something.
“What? …fine I’ll give you that dumbass sword if you seriously think it’ll actually do something.” Reaching into duffel bag, Adachi pulls out a blood red toy beam sword and hands it to him. 
“If you screw this up, don’t come crying to me.”
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higuchimon · 4 years ago
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[fanfic] Crafted For Command:  Chapter 1
“Wake up.”
Daisuke didn’t want to, but his eyes opened anyway and he blinked, absolutely lost on where he was. Where had he been?
Right. The Digital World. Fighting the Kaiser. Then something had sorta blown up near him and everything turned red, then black, and now he was… he was…
Apparently in a very deep pit of trouble.
Kaiser stood in front of him, hands on his hips, whip hanging off of his belt, a smirk on his lips that Daisuke hated the sight of right away.
“That’s a good boy,” Kaiser praised and Daisuke wondered why in the world he liked the sound of that when he hated the Kaiser so very much.
Daisuke drew breath to demand to know what was going on, where he was, and what the Kaiser thought he was doing. He couldn’t get a single word out before Kaiser pressed a gloved finger against his lips.
“Be quiet. You weren’t given permission to speak.”
What’s that got to do with it? Daisuke wanted to ask but it was as if his voice no longer worked. He checked himself over as quickly as he could. No Ring. No Spiral. Did those work on humans? If they did, Kaiser hadn’t ever tried it before. And since he couldn’t find one now, even if they did, that wasn’t what was going on now.
Kaiser’s finger remained where it was, but now he tapped it on Daisuke’s lips.
“I know that you’re confused and have questions. I’ll tell you what you need to know. I’ve learned something very interesting about you, Motomiya Daisuke, and I want to make certain that it’s true.”
Confused didn’t even begin to cover everything. He jerked his head around again, pulling it away from the Kaiser’s touch, trying to find V-mon and his friends. He came up with nothing.
Was he the only one who’d been caught? That didn’t look good in the slightest.
Kaiser cleared his throat and Daisuke turned back to him as if his head were on a string.
“I want you to pay attention to me and only me. There’s no one else around for you to listen to anyway. I’m the only one allowed access to this room. Not even Wormmon can come in.” He cupped the side of Daisuke’s face with one hand. “It’s just you and me, Daisuke.”
If Daisuke could’ve spoken – and his voice remained oddly frozen – he would’ve declared how much he hated that fact. All he could do was stare at the Kaiser, though, and let his eyes do the talking.
“Are you aware that not all of your Chosen friends are as human as they appear?”
Daisuke blinked, tilting his head. Then he shook it carefully, since Kaiser seemed to be expecting an answer. He’d never heard of anything like that. He wasn’t going to believe it just on the Kaiser’s say-so, either.
A gesture and a screen appeared behind Kaiser, where Daisuke could see it. “Watch and learn, then. I’ve gathered some very interesting information.”
The screen flickered, then resolved into an image of Taichi and Yamato lounging together by a river. Daisuke didn’t recognize it, but he also spied Gabumon and Agumon with them, so it was probably somewhere in the Digital World. He wasn’t sure of what they were doing nor could he hear them, but Yamato raised up one hand and if Daisuke could’ve rubbed his eyes he would have.
Because as far as he knew, people’s hands didn’t just burst into flames like that. They should’ve jumped and screamed and done… something. Instead of Yamato trailing one hand in the air, a bit of fire following behind, and Taichi smiling.
The scene shifted over to Sora, and this time he recognized where she was: the area that Birdramon patrolled. Only now they were patrolling it together, which wasn’t so unusual. The older Chosen visited their partners whenever they could, usually when the younger ones kept the Kaiser distracted.
Only he’d never, ever seen Sora-san flying while she was in the Digital World, and doing it as easily as if she did it every day of her life.
Again the scene shifted and this time it showed Koushirou-san, chatting with a powerful lion-like Digimon, in a place that Daisuke didn’t recognize, but it had a lot of baby Digimon there. Then the two of them turned to what looked like a row of targets, set up out of range of the babies, and the lion Digimon raised up one fist, blasting his attack, Fist of the Beast-King, toward one of them.
That wasn’t so unusual either. This time, what set it apart was that Koushirou did a version of the same attack, red-gold flames incinerating one of the targets, and the lion Digimon nodded, resting one hand in pride on Koushirou’s shoulder.
Last and not at all least, he saw Jou-san. He looked like he was just in his room, or a place Daisuke guessed was his room. Underneath his table there rested a small refrigerator, but instead of pulling out a soda of some kind, there was a vial in Jou’s hand when he stood back up, one neatly labeled.
The screen moved in on it and Daisuke had time to read it before it changed. Understanding it took a few moments longer.
Blood?? He’s drinking blood?
He wanted to shake his head even more. This didn’t seem like anything at all he wanted to believe about any of his friends.
Why wouldn’t they tell us? I mean, I can get not telling us here, because of the Kaiser, but why not at home? He would’ve asked all of that out loud if he’d been able to. Then the Kaiser touched him again.
“They are part Digimon, part human. I’ve taken samples from all of you to determine precisely their lineage and their types. I can instruct you in that another time: when you’ve learned your place properly.” He smiled and that drove at least some of the worry and confusion out of Daisuke. “But let me continue. Not only are they of Digimon breeding, but so are you.”
Daisuke blinked again. Then he shook his head, far more furiously than before. He didn’t care what the Kaiser had in mind. Those images were probably faked anyway. He knew who he was. He knew who he wasn’t.
But the Kaiser wasn’t going to let it drop that easily. “What I learned from the scans of you I’ve done turned out to be very useful. You’re special, Motomiya Daisuke. More so than any of the rest of them.”
His hand rested again on Daisuke’s cheek, then slid downward to cup his chin, turning his head so that Daisuke looked right at him.
“You won’t believe what I’ve learned if I told you. So I will demonstrate instead. This will take time. Days. Perhaps even weeks. I doubt any longer than that. You’re not that stubborn.”
Daisuke determined that he would be, no matter what. Perhaps that showed in his eyes, since the Kaiser chuckled.
“These are my orders, which you will obey.”
No sooner did he speak, than Daisuke noticed something strange about his voice. Stronger, deeper, commanding. Everything in Daisuke urged him to listen and to obey.
“You will only leave the fortress if I not only grant you permission, but have you on my leash. Leaving otherwise is not an option.”
Kaiser’s hand moved downward from Daisuke’s chin to rest on his chest. Daisuke’s heart beat faster at the touch. He told himself it was because he was furious. He wasn’t sure of how convincing he was.
“You’ll speak only when I ask you a question or give you an order. When you do speak, you’ll be respectful of me. No insults. No trying to get around your orders.” His hand moved again, splayed now across Daisuke’s stomach. “You will only go to places in the fortress or out of it that I order you to go to. I won’t have you roaming around unleashed.”
He moved his hand away from Daisuke, who at once told himself that he didn’t miss the contact.
He knew he lied on that one right away.
“Do you understand your orders?”
Of course I understood what you said! What makes you think I’m going to do what you want?
What came out of his mouth was a single word. “Yes.”
Kaiser smiled. “When you address me, you will call me master. Now, do you understand your orders?”
Part of Daisuke, the part he was most familiar with, ached to scream and resist. The rest of him, a part that he’d never even known existed and wasn’t sure why it was making itself known now, luxuriated in the thought of orders and control and being ruled.
“Yes, master.” He even sounded like himself to his own ears, only he wasn’t saying what he wanted to say!
Kaiser fisted his hand in Daisuke’s shirt and pulled them closer together. Only now did Daisuke realize that he hadn’t been restrained at all this whole time. He’d been too surprised and far too confused to even notice until now.
And now Kaiser’s actions spun every other thought out of his mind.
He gave no orders. He demanded everything.
Kaiser’s lips landed on Daisuke’s and kissed hungrily, as if Daisuke held the very breath of life within him.
To Be Continued
Notes: The M-rated portions will come in due course. Gotta set things up first.
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