#there's also some hints of eNVy as well

[straightdazed412]

Hits you with the AU J >:]

Made this AU based off of c.ai around March last year thinking that I'd eventually scrap it, But since it's almost gonna be a year since then-and because Tiktok might actually get banned T-T-I felt like posting more of it on here since I'm gonna be on Tumblr more often now

[lovetei]

Things that the citizens of the Devildom witnessed that will prove that this Human have the characters at their beck and call

Versions: The Brothers, Side characters

Warnings: Gender neutral pronouns for MC, Cussing, Slight yandere themes (Belphegor, Asmodeus)

Links: Masterlist

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LUCIFER

This demon likes sticking to rules

Running on hallways? Detention

Eating during class? Detention

Not paying attention to class? Detention

No one is safe...

Except for one person.

The cafeteria if filled with loud noises, your voice shouting profanities to another demon specifically.

Everyone listening to the argument feels like they're stomach is about to burst out of nervousness because "What if Lucifer randomly comes in and put all of us is detention because we just stood by and didn't do anything to stop the fight?!"

And he did.

But what surprised them is that he didn't shout or anything, he just stood there for a few second and scanned the crowd looking for one of his brothers.

Spotted Mammon and came close to him before whispering something among themselves.

And then he just stood there

Doing nothing

As if it's just fucking okay to let a human, the exchange student at that, to scream and curse a demon because he won't cooperate into this project.

And when the demon started cursing back at you, the rules are suddenly so strict as if cussing will cause the end of the 8 rings of hell.

The demon is sent to detention, removed from the group, suspended, and many more.

And who knows? Maybe you pulled just a few strings to have that demon expelled.

But what the citizens sure know is that they never saw anyone again after talking to MC like that.

MAMMON

It was cute

Mammon would do anything for you, no matter how big or small it is.

One day, Mammon was spotted running around the halls of RAD.

Looking like he's getting chased by Lucifer, again.

But surprisingly, he's not.

He's just running around the school fetching your fan, notebooks, bag, pens, water or some snacks.

One time, you two were put in a group for this project and were talking about it with your other group mates.

Then you hit him with a "Mammon, I left my notebook on my desk in the potions class, can you fetch it for me?"

With just a blink of an eye, Mammon who was leaning on your shoulder just a few minutes ago is gone.

And with another blink of an eye he's there again with your notebook on his hands then he's back to leaning on your shoulder again as if he didn't just go to the other side of the school for a notebook.

LEVIATHAN

He's introverted

He won't go out his room if it's just for some lame party

I also headcanons for him to be the most unseen brother

Or like him having the smallest amount of photo and information online because he just won't go out.

Yeah, he won't go out if it's just some small, lame party but if Diavolo hosts it, what exactly can he do?

"Do you think the avatar of envy will attend this party?"

"Ha! No way... Lord Leviathan won't attend small parties or gatherings like these unless Lord Diavolo hosts it himself."

"Lord Leviathan really has a high standard when it comes to gatherings..."

And then poof

He's there

Beside you

A happy go lucky sheep beside a gloomy snake

What a match

And if you ask him why he would attend such gatherings when it's totally not even his style he would just go like "MC."

"What can I do? MC really wants to see the fireworks display."

"MC wants me to escort them."

So they got the hint on how to make Levi attend gatherings, either have Diavolo host it or invite MC too.

SATAN

He's angry

But not angry enough to yell when MC is around

Man's can go from 👹 to ☺️ real quick as soon as he felt MC's prescense

He doesn't know why too, but whenever he yell while you're around he thinks he'll fall out of favor

"WELL MAYBE IF YOU'RE SO PERFECT THEN WHY DON'T YOU GO AROUND WHILE YOU HAVE YOUR HEAD FAR UP YOUR ASS- Oh, Hi MC? How are you?"

He'll talk so sweet in front you and then when you turn around you can see some veins popping out of his neck and forehead.

And if he can't really handle it and went berserk in your prescense another scary yet amazing thing you can is to put your hand on his body.

Shoulder, head, neck, wrist, arm, wherever it is.

Just pat him or link your arms with him and he will start to calm down.

ASMODEUS

People headcanon him to like it when you're obsessed with him but I think he's more obsessed to you.

Like he's down bad

You can do anything and he'll literally fawn all over it

"Look at the way they run their hands through their hair!"

"Look at how they work!"

"The way they hold that fork is so graceful~"

Literally, you're the only person that comes to his mind when someone said pretty

Except for himself of course

But I swear, whenever someone caught him staring at you the atmosphere gets so thick

You don't even know why but the atmosphere is heavy and the air suddenly smells so sweet

And those heart in his eyes, the way his pupils dilate

Yeah, you have this man worshipping you alongside himself

BEELZEBUB

Other than the fact that he's actually willing to share his food with you

He's willing to help you in any physical works

Like lifting up things, carrying your stuffs and sometimes even running errands for you

I mean, he actually doesn't do it a lot because Lucifer actually asks Mammon for this stuff because the things Lucifer needs to be done is a little...

Shady?

And he doesn't want to taint Beel's innocence.

So now since you're already a part of the student council when Lucifer needs to have something important finished but it requires physical work.

You and Beel will be partnered

And he doesn't have anything against it either

He likes it so much when you command him to do something actually

I mean, he's tall and buff but Lucifer won't ask him to do anything that includes hard labor except taking care of Belphegor

So you actually helping him make use of all those muscles made him feel a tinge of happiness

He feels like he's actually of use :)

BELPHEGOR

This little brat

He would kill for you and he means it

He's not scared to spill blood on broad daylight as long as it's for you

Someone bothered you? Dead

Oh this person annoyed you? Taken care of

Aw~ He told you you're cute and asked you out on a date? That's sweet! Dead.

He's just like that

He won't tolerate anyone who dared disrespect you

And Lucifer won't even put a stop into this

"I mean, Devildom is quite overpopulated and we don't want anyone disrespecting Lord Diavolo's plan on bringing the three realms together now." Is what he reasons everytime.

Oh, he also wakes up on command as long as it's you.

Lucifer and his brothers could be shaking him like he's dead and he won't even bother to open his eyes

But if you just pulled a "Belphie? Good morning..." Oh dear, he's wide awake and clinging to you.

[thequietkid-moonie]

Trying to let their darling be happy with someone else

[ HEADCANONS ] [ Aventurine, Hanako, Nagisa, Ishida ]

[ Honkai Star Rail ] [ Toilet Bound Hanako-kun ] [ Assassination Classroom ] [ A silent voice ]

⚠️ Yandere, I don't support nor try to romanticize this toxic behaivor, is just for entretaiment

This is a bittersweer prompt, is like the yanderes trying to leave their darling free for their darling's sake, I thought it would be interesting to explore this posibility <3

Aaaalsoooo im writing for two yanderes I haven't wrote before! I wish you like them !!

Aventurine

Aventurine's love is an intense and burning feeling, it consumes him and make him desperate but at the same time give him a purpose and makes him keep going, he is well aware of his feelings and even knowing how unhealthy they can be but they consume him slowly so he can't really ignore them

As his feelings slowly grow there is nothing more Aventurine loves more than just watch you be yourself, interact with others and just have fun, he spend quite some time watching you from afar before deciding to get close to you, using his charm and flirtatious attitude to try to win your heart

He is not only aware of his feeling but also of yours, he wants so desperately for you to love him that he just can't not try to read you to see if he even has a chance, thats why if you seem interested in someone else he will notice, it will depend a little in how obvious you are but still he is smart enough to catch the hints. Even if he gets to know pretty quick he will be in denial for a while, he doesn't want to admit that you are in love with someone else but he can see you looking at that other person with love

Even if he just seems a little grumpy or try to avoid the topic with a smile in the inside he is a complete mess, going from desperately trying to deny that you like someone else to crying his heart out, repeating himself that of course you will love someone else since he doesn't deserve you, it will even reach the point where he just hates that person for stealing your attention from him

Insolated in the darkness of his room, Aventurine end up making a lot of plans and backup plans to take you away from that person and to win your affection, with his luck everything will go the way he wants it, he make up his mind, losing himself in the intensity of his feelings and the need of your love

Aventurine put in action his plan, trying to be more and more close to you, being extra friendly with you in hopes that you just forget about that worthless nobody and better look at him, while in the shadows he tries to put more and more obstacles in that person's way, trying really hard to set you two apart

But even after all his efforts Aventurine just freeze the moment he sees the two of you interacting, paying close attention of how you act, to those suble hints of your love, realicing how beautiful you truly are when you are in love but also about the fact that you haven't acted that way with him. After this Aventurine will probably watch you interact with that person for a while from the shadows, blessing himself with your beauty and precence but also torturing himself with the display of you affection towards someone else, slowly growing more and more envy and heart-broken

At the end, Aventurine decides that forcing you to stay with him when you love someone else would be unfair, he will keep trying to win your heart but will try really hard to set you free, even if he feels like his entire being is breaking and put him in an even worst state, if your feelings for that other person are corresponded then he will try really hard to let you be happy with that person

Hanako

It was really foolish of his part to fall in love with a human and Hanako knew it, but is not like he could stopped himself, ever since he have noticed you around the school you catched his attention, what lead him to slowly follow you and know more and more about you

For him it was just matter of time to become fascinated by you, he wanted to be close to you, to talk to you, he wanted to be selfish for once and be with you, to never leave your side, but no matter how much he wished for it he was still a supernatural, he had to ask for Yashiro's help to even be able to meet you in person, using the excuse of making your wish come true just to be able to have the excuse to glue himself to your side

Hanako has a stalker behaivor during school day, following you around all the time he can and just watching go with your day, sometimes even appearing just with the excuse to mess with you while in reality he is just following his burning desire to be as close as you as posible

It can be that Hanako just noticed that you have feelings for someone else when witnessing it by just following you around or that even the wish you went to ask for to him was related to that love, either way the realization makes him freeze in place and stare at you, for him is like the time has stoped just to dragg him to the cruel reality, a cruel reminder of his position, he is a supernatural, you two couldn't be together because he is already dead

Hanako tries to play off and put a teasing smile to cover up what he really feels, still when he finally finds out an excuse he quickly say it before leaving, and you wont be able to find him for days because he is just too heart broken to face you, he loves you, he want to be with you, he want you to love him too, but that is not going to happen, and he feels like an idiot for it

He spend quite some time reproaching himself for being so idiotic to fall in love, as intense of his feeling are for you is his now self hate for even falling in love. Hanako spend several days in his little cycle of despair, torturing himself with reproachings and constant reminders that this will never be, not when he is a not only a supernatural but also a murderer, why would you even love someone like him? it was just too idiotic of himself

Once he feels ready to face you again is when he finally have make up his mind that he just have to forget about what he fell for you because you deserve to have a great and long life, you doesn't have to lose your life like he did (let alone for his own selfishness), he have make it up in his mind that he will leave you alone to be happy with that other person, but the moment he sees you again, he sees you worried about his sudden disappearance and how you being worring for him for all this days that plan of leaving you be happy with someone else just broke under the weight of his feelings, he just loves you too much to lose you, he doesn't want to

Nagisa Shiota

Being in Class 3E makes every feel bad and unworthy, like idiots, and Nagisa isn't the exception, adding that failure feeling to his already bad self-esteem just make him feel even more unworthy of his darling, he is just a worthless no one while his darling is someone he look up to, someone more beautiful and valuable

Even if you were at class 3E Nagisa doesn't have the strength to talk to his darling, he just limits himself to watch you from afar, tortured by the inmense love that make him wish to just be able to at least talk to you, if only you look at him at least for a brief moment, but is also a constant remainder of how unworthy he is

Nagisa is incredibly smart and perceptive, for him is so easy to read thought his darling for how much attention he puts in you, he is able to be so close to you without being detected that he just memorized everything about you, so its not so dificult for him to notice that you have feelings for someone else but he feels like breaking down when he finds out, he knew he could never have a chance with you, he is nothing but the shadow of his mother anyways, and yet, deep down, he hoped that one day he could be able to have an oportunity, a really small ray of hope that kept him going, but now is gone

Even when Nagisa tell himself that he understand that you would love someone else that doesn't stop him from being in the edge and incredibly heartbroken, but also angry, he doesn't exactly know to who or what he is angry at but he is. Nagisa is clearly affected by this but wants nothing more than your happiness, so if your happiness is with someone else he will make sure that person is worthy of you, stalking the person you like to make sure they are good enough, the problem is that his anger just make him try really hard to find any reason of why that person is unworthy, anything can help (also, the more he trains in Class 3E the more confidence he gains, even if he still sees himself as unworthy he at least is better than that idiot)

At the end it would be incredibly dificult for someone to make him a good impression to let them be deserving of your affection, Nagisa doesn't even realice how possesive he can be and just cover up with the excuse of no one being worthy. However, this is a little tricky, because if he sees that this person makes you truly happy he will have a mental breakdown for the preasure of being stuck between wanting you to be happy and the others being unworthy, but in this way there are higher chances that he will accept his defeat (but will continue to stalk you two, waiting for that idiot's first mistake to take them away)

However, if the case is that you two are already friends then he will be less willing to let you go, it have took so much efforts to just even become your friend (and him to accept it since he stills feels quite unworthy) to just lose it for some idiot that wants to get in his way, since he slowly wins more confidence with the training and you have already accepted him in your life then he feels ready to fight for what he have with you now

Shoya Ishida

Despite the fact that Ishida is quite dependent of his darling he limits and hold back himself a lot, he feels unworthy and is so afraid that you would think as bad as he thinks of himself that he prefers to dont be close to you, but at the end, if you two end up being friends he will be watching over his every single move to make sure he doesn't make any mistake

For Ishida is incredibly dificult to really tell what his darling is feeling, he is constantly in the edge of his nervousness and anxiety and can easily misundestand things for the bad, you have to be clear with him, thats also why if you are interested in someone else it will take him a long time to understand it, as unworthy as he feels deep down he still wishes for you to see him in a good light, the thought of you loving someone else or even not giving him even the chance have cross his mind a few times but the moment he finally realice that you actually have feelings for someone else is going to break him completely

He is going to be a complete mess the moment he sees that you actually have feeling for someone else, after the initial shock Ishida will fall into a really bad depresive episode, his mind going around the idea that of course you will love someone else, why would you love an idiot like him? he haven't forgiven himself for what he have done to Shouko so of course he doesn't deserve to be happy with the person he loves, you'll probably think that he is a monster too when you find out what he have done

His mind goes back an forth between the self depracation and the constant reminder that he doesn't deserve you, you don't deserve to be stuck with someone like him after all. Its going to take a lot of efforts and even help from his friends to help him get out of this state, but even when he calms down the self-hate is back, and thanks to that he will not be able to even look at you because he wants you to be happy, wich he now believes isn't with him

But if you two are already friends the problem comes when you show that you were worried too, if you come to him asking if he is alright or just expressing relief or even happiness to finally see him again then his feelings will get over him again, this is what he truly wants, he wants your comfort and reasurance, and now that you are giving it to him Ishida can't just let you go like that, he doesn't want to lose this

If you show genuine and positive feelings for him, showing him that you truly care he will practically forget about the idea of leaving you go and go back to the feeling of wanting your forgiveness and aproval, but since there is someone who is treaten to take away, his precious ray of hope then he will try more and more to be of your liking, to make you look at him and love him instead of that other person

[sunflowerwinds]

falling behind [h.c]

summary: feeling like you’re never going to experience the normal dating experience, you turn to your friend, hazel, to teach you how to kiss. friends help each other out like that, right?

pairing: hazel callahan x fem!reader

contains: mature language and content, hickies (r!recieving), heavy making out, causal dominance from hazel, sort of player!hazel, cocky!hazel, josie & isabel being all over each other, hinting that hazel and birttany are bffs, inexperienced! reader, slight insecure! reader, reader is mentioned to have multiple sisters, hazel being so sweet and reassuring to reader.

word count: 2.6K

a/n: based on this request, by @toritea (i hope you enjoy it! xx) i actually had too much fun writing this. need me a hazel :/ also how am i at over 200 followers already?? you guys are insane. but i love you all for it. enjoy! <3

You were really happy for Josie and Isabel. You really were. You knew Josie had had a massive crush on Isabel for years now and they finally got together. But, it was moments like this where they were making out, borderline about to fuck against your and Josie’s shared dorm room door, that made you want to rip your head right out of your head.

“Okay, guys,” you speak up, trying to reach for the handle that was underneath their hips.

There was a moan at some point and you decided that you were going to Brittany and Hazel’s dorm room since clearly yours and Josie’s was going to be occupied. You backed away and marched down to the almost identical door except Hazel and Brittany’s names were scribbled on the dry-erase board.

You knocked on the door with a sigh, the image of Josie and Isabel still fresh in your mind. The door opened to reveal Hazel with squinted eyes. She had on a gray hoodie with a pair of what you think of boxers or shorts that look similarly to boxers.

“Hey, did I wake you?” You glance at her attire.

“Uh, no, I just woke up from a nap,” Hazel furrowed her brows, “is everything okay?”

You sigh, shaking your head. “Josie and Isabel—“

“Oh, okay, yeah. Come in,” Hazel moved out of the way to let you into the dorm room.

You glanced around the room, smiling at the obvious difference between Brittany and Hazel’s beds. Brittany had one of those neon wall lights of a sun with baby pink and white sheets. Hazel had basic different shades of gray comforters and sheets along with a few throw pillows.

“I love them but my god, they never stop. I was just trying to stop by to change,” you sigh as you walk over to sit on Hazel’s bed.

Hazel smacked her lips together with a shrug, adjusting her hoodie on her head.

“Well, I mean, that’s what it's like to have a girlfriend. It’s the ‘honeymoon’ phase.” Hazel explained before adding, “kissing and fucking is fun, though.”

Your cheeks burn at her words. Being the only person you know to not have any sexual experience—let alone kiss—made you feel like you were falling behind. Sure, it was only freshman year of college, but it didn’t help the longing of wanting to get this sort of shit over with.

Hazel was the one that you envied the most. Or at least, the girls she was hooking up with. After high school, Hazel became a bit of a heartthrob. Brittany had told you about how she had passed by their room sometimes and would hear almost-porn-like moaning and panting. You would be lying too if you said that you’ve never heard these noises too come from their room.

In simple words, Hazel fucks and fucks good.

“Still, I don’t need to see it happen, Haze,” you emphasized.

“Maybe you need to go and get some then,” Hazel remarks with a cheeky grin, walking over to sit across from you on Brittanys bed.

“Um, no. I can’t do that,” you shake your head and hope that she doesn’t press or ask more questions.

Hazel furrows her brows as she watches the way your body language shifts as soon as the subject of sex comes up.

“Why not? You’re gorgeous. I’m sure someone wants to fuck you.” Hazel states as if you should’ve been aware of this.

It was definitely a bit of a confidence booster that Hazel found you attractive.

“Thanks, Haze but it’s not like people are lining up to be with me unlike some people,” your eyes stare into hers, raising your brows. “I wouldn’t even know what to do anyways.”

Hazel tilts her head and purses her lips together, unclear to what you meant. She meant it when she said you were gorgeous. Even now in your day to day outfits of tees and baby tanks with jean shorts. She’s always thought this way about you but had to push it deep down to keep your friendship intact.

“Wait, have you not…?” Hazel trailed off to see what the limit was of experience that you may or may not have had.

“I’m a virgin and have never even kissed anyone before except for, like, once in 4th grade over a dare,” you spat out, feeling the ever most embarrassed.

The question made you irritated. Why? You couldn’t tell the exact reason but it was definitely a combination of stress and lack of sexual activity.

“Hey, hey,” Hazel stood up and off Brittany's bed to sit next to you on her bed. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, you know?”

“No, I know that. It’s just annoying sometimes to not have someone in that romantic way.” You tell her with a forced grin.

Hazel nods in agreement. Silence takes over you two until you get an idea. It was risky and could possibly change everything about your relationship with Hazel if she says yes.

“Haze? Can you,” you sigh and look at her slowly, “can you teach me how to kiss?”

You wince as you prepare for the immediate rejection from Hazel.

“You want me to teach you?” Hazel adjusts her position on her bed so that she has one leg curled on the mattress and the other hanging off.

“Well, yeah, if that’s okay. I know you’ve been with a lot more girls than I have so I assume you know what you’re doing,” you state simply, blushing at the memories of the muffled moaning you’ve heard through the door.

Hazel chuckled at your words, removing her hood from her bed head. You watch her carefully, all of a sudden aware of every move you both made. You took notice of her chains that rested at the bottom of her throat probably from being tossed in her sleep.

“Are you sure? Like, 100%?”

You nod, eyes flickering to her lips. Hazel had done the same and scooted back from you as she was 10 seconds away from kissing you feverishly, but she had to hold back. You had never kissed before, she reminded herself.

“Okay, well, the first thing is comfortability. Are you comfortable sitting like this?” Hazel motioned around you two.

You think about it for a moment before questioning: “Is there a better way to sit when kissing?”

“Some girls like to sit on my lap, some like me to be sort of hovering over them. Even like, laying down and we’re making out is always comfortable too,” Hazel explains, all of a sudden feeling very nervous talking about all of the things she’s done with these girls that weren’t you.

You contemplate for a moment, mentally trying to ignore how Hazel had said ‘some girls.’ It just reminded you that this can only be a ‘friends helping friends’ situation. Laying down might be comfortable but to you, that sounded like a more experienced position. The idea of Hazel hovering over you would cause you to go actually insane.

“Can I be on your lap? I-If that’s okay?” You ask, glancing down to look at Hazel’s lap.

“Yeah, yeah, just— yeah,” she began to adjust herself so that her upper back was up against the headboard with her legs spread out. “C’mere, honey.”

You’re a horny idiot, you scold yourself internally as you inch over to Hazel, your thighs straddling her upper thighs. Her hands rest respectfully on your lower thighs, just above your knees.

This position felt so intimate now that you were here. You could see every speck of blue in her eyes and the slight bags from lack of sleep. You could just stare at Hazel like this and be content.

“You okay?” Her voice is gentle.

“Yeah, just a little nervous,” you admit truthfully.

“I get it, it's okay. Nothing’s wrong with being a little nervous,” she reassures you and the way she was rubbing her thumbs across the bare skin makes your head fuzzy. “Just take a deep breath in and out a few times.”

You do as she asks of you, your previous rapid heartbeat coming to a decrease in speed. Hazel seems to take notice of your chest slowing down.

“There you go. Good. That’s good, honey.”

Hazel praised you, a rush flooding to your brain. You gave her a shy smile as you tried to focus on what the whole point of this was. Kissing.

That’s it. It’s just kissing.

“So, now what?” You hum, fiddling with the end of Hazel’s gray hoodie.

“Let’s do one so I can see how you kiss.” Hazel rose a hand to cup your cheek, watching your breath hitch ever so slightly.

“Okay.”

“Don’t worry about kissing ‘bad’, okay? Go with the flow,” she reassures you once again.

You nod, muttering one final ‘okay’. Hazel leans her face towards yours, slightly brushing her lips against yours. From this soft touch alone, you could tell that you were going to fuck this up. Hazel closed the gap by tugging you by your cheek, locking your lips together.

You attempt to follow her slow rhythm as your hands grip onto the cotton of Hazel’s hoodie. This is going well, you think until Hazel pulls away. You instinctively try to chase her lips, but she chuckles softly at your attempt. Her hot breath brushes past your own slightly parted mouth.

“Getting eager, huh?” She teases, brushing her nose against yours.

“Shut up.” Your cheeks flush at her words.

That same flush spread to your chest and the depths of your stomach. All you wanted to do was jump her bones. Now, you understood why she had girls moaning so loud that there would be complaints from the neighboring peers.

“You did good, though. You really don’t have anything to worry about.” Hazel patted the side of your thigh like it was nothing.

“Really?” You furrow your brows, confused as to how you who had no experience could actually kiss well.

“Mhmm. I don’t think you have anything to worry about, honey. You’re a natural,” she glanced down at your lips with a smile.

“What about, like, making out? Like with tongue?” You were really pushing your luck now. There’s no way she was going to agree to doing more than just basic French kissing.

“Oh, yeah, that’s a little more complicated. There is such a thing as too much tongue. That’s how people get mono. It also just feels fucking gross.” Hazel explains with a grimace.

You copy her disgusted face as one of your sisters had gotten mono before and she couldn’t properly swallow anything for about a week. You remember her constant complaining, saying that she wouldn’t kiss anyone for the next year.

The following month she had gotten a boyfriend so clearly, she was a shit-faced liar.

“Yeah, that’s what I’ve heard,” you reply back with an awkward chuckle.

“That’s a worse-case scenario, though. It’s supposed to feel good like everything else that’s as intimate as this,” Hazel is quick to reassure you, her hands squeezing and rubbing at your thighs.

“Right. Got it. So, how is ‘good making out’ supposed to feel?” You held up your fingers to copy the quote motion. “I’ve heard you’re mind blowing at it so…”

“You really are boosting my ego here, honey,” Hazel shook her head slightly as if she was being bashful about her experience. Her cocky ass smile said otherwise.

“Like it wasn’t already up there,” you quipped back with a pointed look but your lips were curling into a giddy smile.

“Y’know we can’t make out when we talk, right?”

Hazel’s painfully attractive smirk forms on her lips.

Her hands grasp onto your waist, her thumbs digging into your lower ribs. The cold feeling of her silver rings caused you to gasp as her lips were against yours once again.

You hum against her lips, your hands cupping both sides of her face. From what you’ve seen in movies and shows, usually there’d be a hand through someone’s hair. You test it out and run one hand up the back of Hazel’s head, her soft hairs brushing in between your fingers.

Hazel’s tongue swipes past your bottom lip and you try to welcome it into your mouth. It feels… weird at first but when Hazel tugs you in closer with her tight grip, it heightens the pleasure for you. You suck on her tongue for just a moment before letting her take the reins once again.

You feel her pull away and you think she’s going to say that you did something wrong. No, her lips begin to trail down to your jaw. She made sure to leave a hot kiss on your cheek and jaw before latching yourself onto your neck.

You pant softly, a soft whine leaving your lips. Hazel’s tongue peeked out to lick across a sensitive spot on your neck that you didn’t even know about. How the fuck did she figure that out? She rolled the skin in between her lips and sucked softly.

“Haze,” you breathe out as you tilt your neck back.

This pulled Hazel out of her hungry-lust driven state. She didn’t ask if she could do that. You didn’t ask for a hickey. Fuck.

Hazel paused her movements, detaching herself from your neck. The skin glistened slightly with spit, highlighting the deepening blush color that had raised to your skin.

“Oh, fuck. Shit, I’m sorry,” Hazel rushed out as she examined the forming hickey.

“What? What is it?” You furrow your brows in a panic as well.

“This is gonna be a dark hickey later. Fuck, honey,” her thumb rubbed over the raw skin.

You stay silent. You didn’t want to admit that being covered in her hickies was something that you’ve wanted for a while now. Just friends, you reminded yourself. Just friends.

“It’s okay. I liked how it felt.” You suck in a deep breath, trying to calm your rapid heart rate.

Hazel’s alluring blue eyes flicker from the spot on your neck to your flushed face. It took everything in her to hold back the urge to kiss over it as an apology for what she did.

“Still, it’s not what you had asked to do. I should’ve,” Hazel paused to remove her hands from your waist. You already missed the warmth dearly. “I should’ve asked first.”

“Haze, it’s really okay. I felt…” Horny. Just horny. Desperate. Horny for a third time.

“Good?” She answered for you as you still hadn’t said anything.

You hadn’t realized that you had paused in real life instead of just in your head.

“Yeah, yeah, good. I promise,” you tell her with a soft smile.

“Well, it sounded like it was good,” Hazel quipped with a cocky smirk on her face before smacking her clothed shoulder.

“God, I’m regretting this already,” you half-lie.

You regret asking Hazel to be the one to teach you but you don’t regret her kissing you and giving you a hickey.

Oh, god.

How were you going to explain the dark mark on your neck to everyone? You never curled your hair so it’s not like a burn could be an excuse.

You were about to ask Hazel how you were going to cover it up when the door opened. Brittany stood at the door sporting a cropped black tank with a gemmed red heart and a pair of low-rise blue jeans. Her brows raised at the sight of you and Hazel before she pursed her lips to hide her obvious smile that was creeping onto her lips.

“I’ll just come back later,” Brittany gave Hazel a look that you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

Okay so everyone but Brittany.

taglist: @imjustapearl @beabeebrie @curiousshifter101 @seethesin @matchamilkislover <33

[zepskies]

Wake Me Up - Part 1

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Summary: A few weeks after you and Ben celebrate your first Christmas together, Ben is returning from another mission with the Supe Affairs team. When he discovers that you’ve been taken, he’ll do whatever it takes to find you. And then, to help you heal.

AN: Welcome back to the BMD-verse! Let me tell you, I’ve had this mini series outlined for months, but now I thought it was finally time to get to it. If you’re not tired of the Break Me Down world yet, I very much hope you enjoy Wake Me Up.

**As a reminder, this story is set shortly after Love Actually, and will contain references from that three-part story. 

Song Inspo: For this whole series it’s “I Can Read Your Mind” by the Doobie Brothers. (I pretty much listened to this on repeat.)

Word Count: 5.5K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Starting off strong in this one: with mature themes, show level violence, angst, kidnapping, PTSD, mentions of torture (not too graphic), and character death.

💚 Wake Me Up Masterlist || Break Me Down Masterlist

Part 1: “Familiar Territory”

The start of a new year continued a steady rhythm for you and Ben. Namely, another successful mission for the Supe Affairs team.

While you were patched into the team’s communications line from the safety of your desk back at the S.A. headquarters in New York, your friends were a few states over in Denver, Colorado. They’d just arrested a supe that had been committing a series of bank robberies by literally slipping away from the police, thanks to his particular superpower.

“Somebody better get this shit off of me,” M.M. groused.

He wasn’t too happy about some questionable ooze this particular supe secreted as a defense mechanism. According to Frenchie’s research, it was the same shit that certain frogs could produce to repel predators.

“Need a good hose down, more like,” said Butcher. “You smell fuckin’ foul.”

“Like Satan’s ass crack,” Ben remarked.

You couldn’t hold back a snort of amusement.

“Let’s just get the fuck outta here,” M.M. said, his tone all surly, as per usual. You didn’t envy his plight.

“Good job, guys,” you said, to change the subject. “Now it’s just a short flight back to New York.”

“No layovers this time. I’m not being paid to rot in a fucking airport with a bunch of mouth-breathing assholes and their screaming brats,” Ben said.

Charming. You rolled your eyes, but a smile played on your lips when you imagined his taciturn face.

“Okay, your majesty. I’ll make sure it’s a nonstop flight,” you said. “I’ll be waiting for you at home.”

That last bit, you said with a hint of more behind your words. You drummed your nails on your desk and crossed your legs underneath it. A week was a long time for you and your boyfriend to be apart, and you’d been missing him.

“You better be,” Ben said. His voice was deep and cocky. He was smirking, you were sure, and you knew that he’d understood you perfectly well.

“Anybody else hearing this blatant foreplay?” Hughie quipped.

“I sense cheeks will be cracked tonight,” Frenchie muttered.

“Ugh!” you heard Annie shudder.

You knew she supported you and Ben, but you also knew that she didn’t want to hear about the gushy details. You laughed through your embarrassment. 

“Okay, guys. I’ll see you all tomorrow,” you said, before you officially signed off. 

You grabbed your purse that was stowed away in a desk drawer, fished out your cell phone, and you called Ben’s cell. He picked up on the second ring.

“Yeah?” he said. 

“I love you,” you said with a smile. “Just wanted to make sure you knew that.”

“Mhmm,” he replied. “I’ll see you soon, baby doll.”

You pouted. “Come on, say it.”

“Say what?”

You sighed. You knew he was being deliberately obtuse.

“You know exactly what,” you replied.

Part of you was upset that he didn’t say it back as often as you liked. God forbid Butcher and the others hear him express his affection for you.

But you supposed you understood that any kind of vulnerability was difficult for him, especially in front of others. As much shit as you gave him, you also knew how to pick your battles with Ben.

“I told you. I’ll see you soon,” he said.

You once again tapped your nails, on your armrest this time. After a moment, you relented.

“Okay, baby. Have a safe flight,” you said, even if you were still frowning.

When Ben hung up with you, he let out a deep sigh.

An entire week with these juvenile cocksuckers was almost too much for him to fucking take. While he often felt your presence with you on the comm line during the actual mission, and the occasional phone call on long nights in between, it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t enough.

He was ready to go home.

The flight itself was fine, though dealing with civilians and the tiring experience of a long-ass flight made him even more antsy to land. Because even when they got to JFK, he still had a hired car waiting for him to drive him from the airport to get to Scarsdale, and to the apartment he shared with you. It had already been almost a year of you two living there, in a three-bedroom spanning two floors.

Ben hadn’t thought he would get used to such a small place, but it was all right. It had become his home, far more than the penthouses and party mansions ever were, at least.

When he finally got home and unlocked the front door of the apartment, he stepped into darkness. All the lights were off.

Odd, he thought. He called your name while he shut the door behind him, then flicked on the foyer light. He realized then that he hadn’t seen your car in the driveway. Were you still working? It wasn’t unlike you to get caught up with the paperwork and other logistics after a case.

After a quick look around of each room, from the kitchen to the living room, Ben knew you hadn’t come home yet. A frown marred his face.

He went upstairs and entered the bedroom next. He unclipped his wrist guards and took his gloves off first, followed by loosening the collar of his supe suit. The bed was made, untouched since this morning, he was sure.

Then he noticed the scrap of paper resting on his pillow. He picked it up, and his brows furrowed as he read.

By the time you find me, she’ll wish she was dead.

Ben called Grace Mallory first.

When she didn’t answer, he called Butcher next. Ben’s hand shook the slightest bit while holding the phone up to his ear.

“Evenin’, guv,” Butcher answered with a tired sigh. “What’s this about—”

“We have a fucking problem,” Ben growled.

Ben pushed the limits of his Mercedes Benz while driving himself to Supe Affairs.

The others met him there in a conference room, except for Grace, who was on an active case at the moment. There Hughie and Frenchie tapped into the S.A. security footage on their laptops. 

They eventually found you getting into your car in the S.A. garage, about four hours ago. Then two later, the street cameras picked you up somewhere in the Village. Ben recognized the street. 

You probably had dinner with your friend Yvette and her family, but you intended to make it home on time to meet Ben when you left around 9:00 p.m. 

You had parallel parked at a meter on the street. According to the footage, it looked quiet and empty when you headed back to your car. 

You were stopped by someone before you could get the driver’s side door open. It looked like a man’s height and build; he grabbed you by the shoulder and threw a punch you managed to dodge.

You put up a good fight, but you were eventually knocked out with what looked to be a crowbar, at first glance. When Hughie zoomed in, it was actually a black baton. Ben watched it all with a deepening frown. Anger churned in his gut and ignited his blood as he watched your unconscious body being hauled into a black SUV.

“That looks military-issued,” M.M. said, pointing at the baton that the suspect used to hit you.

Butcher nodded, and also noted the man’s fighting style. “That’s a professional.”

“He would have to be, to take her out,” M.M. said, glancing at Ben. “And the timing. They knew you were coming home. That note was personal, besides the fact that they were casing your place…they’ve probably been watching both of you, waiting for the chance to get the jump on you.”

“The question,” Butcher said, “is who the fuck would wanna tangle with Soldier Boy that badly?”   

“Shit. That’s a laundry list, isn’t it?” Hughie said. M.M.’s glance told him to shut the fuck up.

Ben was silent, but his fury was mounting. His head turned sharply to Butcher.

“Get Mallory on the line. Now,” he barked. When no one moved quick enough for him, his temper snapped at its thinly held leash.

“I said right fucking now!”

Slowly you blinked your eyes open. For a moment, you were seeing in double vision. It soon cleared up to reveal dark, damp, musty surroundings.

It smelled familiar; after that mission to find and subdue Sapphire a couple of months ago, you’d recognize a New York sewer anywhere.

Fuuucking shit, you thought with a groan. Your head was aching. You felt a trickle of blood down the side of your neck, and you found yourself in a familiar position—seated on a metal chair with your hands secured behind your back. Your restraints felt like zip ties.

“You finally with us, sweetheart?” asked a man. His voice was smooth and commanding.

“Jackson, I don’t know about this,” whispered someone else. Another man, though he sounded slightly younger, reminding you of Hughie.

“Shut the fuck up, Tommy,” Jackson snapped.

At least you had a name. He stepped into the light that came from a couple of small lanterns. One was propped on top of a bucket by the wall. The other was on a plastic fold out table that you saw a few feet beside you.

The man who stepped into your line of vision was tall, maybe around Ben’s height, if just shy of his build. He was blonde, just like his skinnier friend. They shared some notable facial features and coloring, but while Jackson’s eyes were dark brown and self-assured, the younger man’s were blue and apprehensive. If you had to guess, they looked like brothers.

“Nice digs,” you remarked, gesturing with your gaze at your surroundings.

Jackson rose a brow, crossing his arms.

“You’re taking all this pretty well,” he said. 

You huffed humorlessly.

“This isn’t exactly my first kidnapping,” you said.

He quirked his head and drew closer.   

“All right. Well, since we’re on the clock, let me tell you why you’re here,” he said. He bent down in front of you so that his face was level with yours. “I need you, sweetheart. You’re going to tell me how to bring down Soldier Boy. How to kill him. How to end him. Then maybe, I’ll let you go without gouging out those pretty eyes.”

You stared back at Jackson with an expression that didn’t change.

Then you spat in his face.

And you expected the hard, back-handed slap that made your head whip to the side. It rattled you for a moment as you caught your breath, but you recovered enough to lean back in your seat. Your eyes met Jackson’s directly after he wiped his face with his shirt. “Tommy” stood off to the side behind his partner. He’d looked away when you were hit.

You focused on the other man, Jackson. He was wearing black cargo pants to match his boots, and a belt with a gun on his hip. He carried himself like a trained killer.

“Military, government agency, or private sector?” you asked.

His head tilted. He studied you, just like you were studying him.

“None of the above really,” he said. “Not anymore.”

He walked over to the fold out table, where he grabbed a black bag and unzipped it. A flash of silver gleamed as he pulled out one sharp instrument after the next. You had to hide your apprehension, and fear that made your insides tremble.

He glanced over at you.

“Let’s get started,” he said.

Hours later, you were teetering on the edge of consciousness.

After the last hit, you spat a wad of phlegm and blood onto Jackson’s shoes. He rotated the ache out of his hand. He looked down at you through furrowed brows.

“Damn, bitch,” he said, catching his breath. “You can take a hit. I’ll give you that.” 

“My dad was a Marine, numb nuts,” you managed to reply, through labored breaths. “He used to hit harder with his open hand than all the strength in that limp-dick wrist of yours.” 

Jackson smirked. “Christ. Daddy issues, huh? Why doesn’t that surprise me.” 

You gave him a droll look. Again, to cover your fear, because you weren’t willing to give him the satisfaction of seeing it.

Angered and frustrated by that defiance, he reached down and grabbed your neck and jaw with one hand. You winced at the force of his grip, but when he started squeezing, this was the one thing that made you truly whimper. You tried not to think about the ghost of your father’s hand around your neck.

“Don’t you get it, asshole?” you gritted out while struggling for breath. “You can’t kill him. No one can. Stronger, smarter people than you have tried.” 

Moments ticked by while Jackson contemplated your words. 

Then he released you. You sucked in gulps of air and tried not to cough out a lung.

“Maybe,” he said. “But Soldier Boy’s got a weakness. If anyone knows it, I’ve got a feeling it’s you.” 

You can’t say anything. You can’t, you can’t, you can’t. 

That had been your mantra for every minute you had spent in this hole. You shook your head.

“Look, Jackson.” You sucked in another breath to steady yourself, and blink a drip of blood out of your eyes. “He’s going to kill you. You and your brother. Take your family and run, while you’ve still got a chance.” 

“…You know what? You’re probably right,” Jackson said, scratching the back of his head with his crimson-stained hand. “But I just realized something.”

He leaned down again, until he was level with your face.

“When he finds you, drowned in your own goddamn blood…I think the look on his face might just be enough for me.”

Your eyes widened. 

It took days. Three painful days to pick up the threads, which led closer to home than anyone could’ve anticipated. 

Grace Mallory put pressure across the chain of command, and even reached out to the FBI for assistance. An alert email finally came to her phone, and she realized that an agent on her own payroll had been flagged for never reporting back for his debriefing on a reconnaissance mission.

That agent was Jackson Rawlins.

The further she read into his file, the worse her frown became. She immediately sent the lead to Ben, Butcher, and the rest of the team to run down. For the first time in years, Grace actually prayed.

She prayed that they would reach you in time. It wasn’t until then that she realized it; she hadn’t thought of you as a cog in her system for some time now—not even as leverage against Soldier Boy. She was genuinely concerned about you.

Grace worried that she was setting herself up for disappointment…if it was too late. However, she also worried about what would happen if you didn’t survive. She considered how Ben might react, with that nuclear power within him that he was still learning to control. The consequences of this mission could very well be catastrophic. 

You were losing track of time in this windowless pit. You knew it had been days, but you didn’t remember how many. The cellar was cold, and the way sound and air traveled, it felt like you were underground. It certainly smelled like it—damp and gross. It made you certain this was a sewer.

Now this is Satan’s ass crack, you thought. You winced at the pain that radiated…pretty much everywhere. Blood had dried from various lacerations across your face, neck, chest, and arms, and bruises were dark against your skin.

Your blouse was in tatters, and your jeans had bleeding rips as well, though at least he’d kept your ankle boots on. You were too weak even for hunger. And a large, heavy chain attached to manacles on your wrists had replaced the zip ties. One end of the chain was fastened between the wall and a line of plumbing.

Footsteps echoed down the hall behind you. You closed your eyes and steeled yourself.

“Are we actually gonna have a conversation today?” Jackson asked.

“Depends,” you replied, your voice dry and coarse. “Are you going to tell me why you hate Ben so much?”

An angry sigh escaped Jackson’s lips. He pointed up in frustration.

“Ben.” Jackson rolled and cracked his neck, like just the mention of your boyfriend’s real name was disgusting to this man.

“You talk about him like he’s a real fucking person. Not like the animal supe he is,” he said.

“He is a person,” you said, both in exhaustion, and in pain. “And he’s trying to be better. Look, he’s done terrible things. I’m not saying he hasn’t. I don’t know what he’s done to you in the past, but—”

Jackson shut you up with a sharp backhand. It made black spots encroach on your vision as you caught your breath.

You noticed his brother Tom come in the room as well, to watch and worry. He didn’t seem comfortable with this way of things. He looked like a civilian. Maybe you could use that to your advantage…

But you lost track of thought after that, when Jackson started in on you with either his hands, or the creativity of the instruments on the table nearby. 

You tried to block out the pain, along with his questions about Ben. If you couldn’t talk about him, you couldn’t let yourself think about him. So you couldn’t say anything.

Not about the Novichok nerve agent, one of the few things that had been found to incapacitate him. Not his imprisonment by Vought or the S.A.—nothing that your captor could one day use against Ben.

You can’t. You can’t. You can’t.

Even though all you wanted right now was him. 

Ben, please…

You zoned in and out of consciousness from there.

When you next registered being awake, mercifully, you were left alone. You raised your head when Tom came to blot at least some of your wounds and give you water. You’d only eaten small pieces of protein bars for days. 

“I’m sorry,” Tom whispered.

“Why does he want Ben?” you wheezed. “Why are you going along with this if you’re so damn sorry?”

Tom looked up at you with pain and grief in his blue eyes. He sighed and dragged a nearby chair from the table. He sat beside you while he fed you half a protein bar. It was a struggle to even get the pieces down.

“Last year,” said Tom, clearing his throat. “I lived in the building that Soldier Boy blew up when he got back from…wherever the Russians had him.”

Your eyes widened as you processed that. “You…but you made it out. Why—”

“I wasn’t home. I was at work,” Tom said. His voice was pained as his eyes became red and glassy. “Our mom wasn’t so lucky.”

You sighed, closing your eyes.

“She was retired, and I was taking care of her,” Tom said. He wiped at his eyes and sniffed. “Jackson wasn’t here. He was on a mission in Colombia. Told me he was cleaning up some cartel shit.”

At that, you had a sneaking suspicion that coiled in your gut. Ben had left a bit of a mess when he peaced out of Colombia, with an entire plane filled with drugs and weapons from whatever cartel he’d infiltrated. (In his words, he’d cut the head off the snake.)

Grace told you she’d sent a team in to handle that mess…

“Your brother—who does he work for?” you asked. Though you had a feeling you knew the answer.

Tom seemed to read your understanding, and his face turned grim.

“The CIA,” he said.

Fuck, you grimaced. So not only had Ben been responsible for their mother’s death, but Jackson had been part of the team that cleaned up his mess in South America. It explained why Jackson was somehow able to find your information; Supe Affairs had become a subsect of the CIA, thanks to Grace. 

“I didn’t know he was planning this. I swear to God. All he said was that he had a way to get at Soldier Boy,” Tom said. You let out a deep breath.

“I’m sorry for your loss. I really am,” you said. Tears welled up hot in your eyes. “But you need to let me go. For your own safety, believe me.”

You saw the guilt, the sadness, the regret on Tom’s face. The brief indecision was overtaken when he glanced down the hall. You knew then that he was more afraid of his own brother than he was willing to do the right thing.

Your tears spilled over, though you tried to breathe through it. You’d tried to save them for when you were alone, those seldom few, cold hours, but you were reaching your breaking point.

“Okay, before I go, do you have to use the bathroom?” Tom asked. There was a bucket in the corner, and Jackson preferred it away from the chair. It was the only time Tom was allowed to unchain you from the wall and let you stretch your legs.

Letting out an exhausted sigh, you nodded in agreement. It was humiliating to know you were going to have to do this yet again, in a bucket, with company. With the manacles still on your wrists, he brought you over to the “special” corner.

Tom sighed and looked away to give you some semblance of privacy.

That was when you used every scrap of energy you had left in you.

You grabbed the chain and yanked it out of his hands long enough to wrap it around his neck from behind. You cut off his sounds of strain and kicked out his knees, so he was forced to kneel on the ground.

You wrapped the rest of the chain around your thigh, giving you the leverage you needed to tighten your grip and choke him out, until he was unconscious. His body fell to the side, and you heaved for breath. Once again, there were black spots in your vision, but you did your best to blink them away.

Now set with determination, you made your way to the plastic table and searched for the key to your chains. After the manacles were unlocked, you rubbed at your raw wrists and rapidly scanned the room. Adrenaline pumped through your veins as you calculated which way you should go to try and escape.

There were three possibilities in this clearing under the sewer: left, right, or straight ahead. Every time Tom or Jackson emerged, it sounded like it was behind you. The chair was facing to the east, which meant you had to take the left tunnel.

You ran in that direction and tried to find a metal ladder that would take you to whatever manhole cover these guys had detached. Someone couldn’t just open up any of those iron plates without the right tools, from the inside or the outside.

You walked as fast as you could manage, even though your entire body protested in pain. Then finally, you saw a black duffel bag lying on the ground, against the wall. Next to it was a metal ladder that went all the way up to the top.

“Jackson, don’t!”

You heard Tom’s voice, but you felt the presence behind you too late. Jackson hit you in the back of the head with that damn baton, so hard that even he grimaced at how the sound echoed on the walls. You crumpled to the ground.

Jackson stood over you with a grim set to his face. He turned to his brother with a shake of his head.

“She’s a walking welt, and you couldn’t handle her?” he said.

“This is too much,” Tom said in worry. He bent down and held two fingers to your neck. He still felt a pulse, at least, but when he felt behind your head, he found blood. His hand shook as he stared at it.

“If you didn’t want in on this, you should’ve said so from the beginning,” said Jackson. He spun the baton in his hand and clipped the hilt to his belt, from a small metal loop on the end of it.

“You didn’t say anything about…about this!” Tom argued. He cleaned your blood off on his jacket.

Jackson regarded his brother with disappointment, and he hefted you up into his arms. Tom followed him back to their setup with your makeshift prison. There Jackson left you lying on the ground, and chained you back up by your wrists for good measure. He then literally and figuratively wiped his hands of you.

“Come on, we’re leaving,” he said. “For good this time.”

Tom looked at you, then his brother in shock. There was even emotion in his eyes.   

“We’re leaving her to die,” he said, his voice unsteady. He knew then, that their mother wouldn't have wanted this in her name. If she saw both of them now, she wouldn't recognize them.

Jackson grabbed his younger brother where his neck met his shoulder. An iron grip.

“And what do you think Soldier Boy is going to do if he finds us?” Jackson asked. His gaze encouraged Tom to explore that reality for a moment.

Jackson nodded at your unconscious form. “Trust me, that bitch was never going to talk. But this is almost better.”

It wasn’t right, Tom thought. He knew it, deep in his heart, but he wasn’t strong like his brother, or even like you.

That was when they heard it. The rumble of engines dying and tires rolling overhead, dislodging a few stray pebbles and dust from the ceiling. Jackson’s eyes widened. 

“Fuck!” he muttered. “All right, let’s go.”

Jackson forced his younger brother to leave the sewer with him, and leave you chained up on the floor.

Ben, Butcher, M.M., and Frenchie had done much of the legwork in tracking down Jackson Rawlins and his brother Tom (with help from Annie, Kimiko, and Hughie of course). Frenchie had found your likely location with a powerful thermal scanner, courtesy of Grace.

Now, they’d driven up to the wide alley in the city and blocked off all the exits on the block. Ben was the first to get his boots on the ground and stride toward the point of entry, where according to Frenchie’s scanners, more than one body was holed up in the sewer. He held his shield at his side and at the ready when the manhole cover loosened, and slid open.

A small gas bomb rolled out towards his feet, but it was just tear gas, not the kind of thing that could actually affect him. Ben picked up the little round ball of metal and crushed it in his hand. While the rest of the team dove for the oxygen masks stored in the car, Ben stalked forward.

Seeing the silhouette of a man, Ben threw his shield hard enough to rattle a supe.

Jackson Rawlins was thrown clean onto his back with a force that stole the breath from his lungs, even through his gas mask. It also broke half a dozen ribs. Ben was soon bearing on top of him and ripping off the mask.

Jackson cried out as remnants of the tear gas seared his eyes.

“Got us a runner!” Butcher shouted. He intercepted and grabbed up a second man who tried to escape. Tom Rawlins wasn’t the threat, but he still wasn’t going free. M.M. and Frenchie also dove down into the sewer to try and find you after they got their gas masks on.

Meanwhile, Ben hauled Jackson up by his neck and walked him back until he hit the brick wall beside a nail salon. Jackson grunted in pain. Every breath he took was now agonizing, thanks to his now battered and broken ribs.

“Where is she?” Ben demanded.

Jackson actually laughed in his face, despite his now bloodshot eyes.

“All you fucking supes are the same,” he said. “But you…you’re the worst. Quite literally, the original asshole. And what does the government do? What does the world do? Gives you a pass on decades of indiscretions, fuck ups, and straight up murder.” 

Ben didn’t outwardly react, but he knew what Jackson’s problem was. He knew he killed the man’s family. Collateral damage—something that had caused Ben more than one argument with you in the past.

But he didn’t care.

He didn’t care, because all he could see in his mind’s eye was a metal bat hitting the back of your head and knocking you clean out. He saw you being taken against your will. Taken from him. And that, he couldn’t abide.

“Where. Is she?” Ben said, as his grip flexed around the other man’s neck. It would be easy. Easier than snapping a toothpick. And he warned, “Don’t make me fucking repeat myself.”

“Dead, probably,” Jackson spat, despite his red and bleary eyes. “Real tough bitch. I see why you’re fucking her…I had me a little taste myself.”

In that moment, Ben couldn’t compute.

His green eyes widened. His breath stilled.

Then his jaw clenched so tight that his teeth were grinding. A fire in his blood and behind his eyes, and fury that burned hot in his chest, almost giving it that nuclear glow.

His hand tightened and choked any salacious words Jackson might’ve spewed out next.

“He didn’t!” Tom shouted out. He was being restrained by Butcher. Ben glanced at them out of the corner of his eye.  

“He didn’t touch her. Not like that,” Tom said. He looked sincere.  

“Shut the fuck up, Tommy,” said his older brother. 

It earned Ben’s attention back. Jackson had the look of a man who knew he was going to die either way.

Ben’s lips curled into a sneer. He took the man’s head with both hands, and slowly crushed his skull. The scream echoed between Ben’s ears, but he was only satisfied when Jackson’s lifeless body dropped at his feet.

He turned to the other Rawlins next.

Tom had screamed as well to watch his brother’s life ended before his eyes. He now stared straight into Soldier Boy’s, pleading wordlessly for his own life. Ben started toward him.

“Please,” Tom said. He tried twisting away from Butcher, who held firm to the man’s arm. The Brit knew all too well, the rage that Ben had in his blood.

“Ben,” Annie tried, and she even stepped forward. Butcher held a hand out against her with a knowing look. It wouldn’t be wise to stand in the way.

“Hey!” M.M. shouted up from down the open hatch of the sewer. “We found her! Need help getting her loose.”

Ben paused in his steps. Tom was shaking, lips trembling, petrified.

Tilting his head, Ben let out a subtle breath through his nose. He began to turn back toward the sewer.

At the last moment, however, he drew his gun and shot Tom Rawlins between the eyes. The man was dead before he hit the ground.

Annie and Hughie flinched, but Butcher and Kimiko weren’t surprised in the least.

Meanwhile, Ben made his way back towards M.M.’s voice, and into the sewer. He heard M.M. and Frenchie arguing about first aid and head wounds, the further in he went. Ben’s dark mood blackened even more along the way.

Once he reached them, he also reached you, held in M.M.’s arms as he cradled your head.

You were unconscious with your wrists locked into heavy chains. The furrow between Ben’s brows deepened, but he got down to his knees beside you and first, broke your chains. He guided you out of M.M.’s arms and into his own, making sure to support your head. Blood was already staining his half-glove and fingers.

It was then that he noticed the small crimson pool lying where your body had been, likely from the wound he could feel at the back of your head. Ben’s mouth trembled the slightest bit, mostly in anger as he drew himself back onto his feet. Your body was littered with bruises, cuts both shallow and deep made by what looked like a blade, and God knew what else.

“I had me a little taste myself,” Jackson had taunted.

No, Ben internally shook that thought from his mind. No, you hadn’t been touched like that, at least, according to the sniveling, cock-sucking brother.

But can you trust that little cunt’s word?

Ben briefly closed his eyes, pressing his lips to your forehead. He continued walking down the hall and towards the light and fresh air of the world above.

You’re gonna be just fine, he promised you, if just within the safety of his mind.

Yeah, you would be all right.

He was going to make sure of it.

AN: 🫣 I'm sorry...BUT, I can promise it will get better (eventually). First, it's going to get worse.

Next Time:

It was a slow process, and it hurt, but you managed to turn your head. You saw a man sitting in the corner with a laptop balanced on his lap. He typed with two fingers at a time, which reminded you of your grandfather. His brown hair fell over his furrowed brows, but his beard was well trimmed.

His head soon raised, possibly feeling the weight of your gaze. His eyes widened a fraction, and he hastily closed the laptop and set it down on his seat before he went to you. You frowned when he came to sit at your bedside, and even touched your cheek with a gentle hand.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said. His voice was deep and smooth. “How’re you feeling?”

You didn’t have the energy to lean away from his hand, but you did give him a look of weary confusion.

“I…I don’t…who are you?” you asked.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 2

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Break Me Down Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

BMD/Series Tag List (Part 1):

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26

@spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

@mrsjenniferwinchester @lyarr24 @xoxovienna @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28

@nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022

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@tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67 @deansbbyx

[eatmeandbirthmeagain]

Jealous Baldwin IV x reader

♧ Mine Only - King Baldwin x Reader ♧

♧ Angst ♧

A/N: Hello Anon, I hope this is what you had in mind. As per your request, he is not wearing a mask in this one! I hope you like it. As always, this is based on the film Kingdom Of Heaven, not the real historical figgures. Enjoy!

P.S: Sorry that it's a little short, I just thought that it wrapped up nicely as this 😊 Also this has a desctiption of y/n

TW: Leprosy

Baldwin the fourth was never an overly jealous man.

Envy was one of the most deadly sins, and he stuck by that ideology with many things. But when it came to his queen? His jealousy was nothing short of violent passion.

Nothing enraged him more than seeing other men stare at his beloved y/n as if she was some object. Whether it be knights or royal officials themselves, his feelings on the issue remained consistent.

Baldwin knew of his wife's shining, yet modest, beauty and never wanted to hide it, forcing her to cover herself with a veil like some husbands would. He allowed her beauty to be seen by the world, but that did not mean that the prying eyes of others never enraged him.

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

It was a warm summer evening. The sun was low in the sky when Balian of Ibelin came to meet with the king for a second time.

Baldwin was reclined on a soft couch alongside his wife, who sat next to him with her head on his shoulder. The two were enjoying the sun set over the kingdom on the royal balcony and were not predicting company at the time, so Balian’s arrival was unexpected.

“Your majesties” he greeted in a low voice. Until this point, Balian had never been formally acquainted with the queen of Jerusalem, but he had heard through the not so subtle whispers of other knights that she was extremely beautiful.

He noticed first the absence of the king's mask. Instead, bandages covered the middle section of his face, leaving only his eyes, forehead and mouth exposed. This was a shock to him, his appearance was nowhere near as awful as he had expected. He had also not expected the absence of the king's veil to reveal blonde curls that framed his face nicely. For a moment he caught himself wondering about what he would look like without the disease. When his eyes shifted from the king to the young queen, he was taken aback greatly.

He had heard the rumors but they did her no justice. She was gorgeous. Absolutely stunning. She had long wavy dark hair, smooth caramel tan skin, and wore white robes that constrasted against her hair. He couldn't help but let his eyes linger on her a little longer than they probably should have.

Balian was brought back to reality by Baldwin clearing his throat in a passive way. “What brings you here at this time Balian?” the king asked, a hint of malice in his usally calm voice.

“Oh, um. I was hoping to seek your advice on a few things” he stumbled over his words before glancing over at y/n then back to the king. An obvious scowl formed on Baldwin’s face, “very well”. He replied coldly, no longer attempting to hide the malice in his voice.

He kissed his wife on the cheek gently before standing to follow Bailan inside. Once her husband was out of sight, y/n sat back and grinned. She adored it when he was jealous.

Bailan’s gaze was just the same as every other man that looked at her, minus the poor attempt at a seductive smirk, like most knights tried. Unlike theirs, Baldwin’s gaze was one of love and adoration. Nothing in the world compared to the way he looked at her.

She wished that he knew how deeply she felt about this but no matter how many times she told him that no man could make her feel as special as he did, he still felt anger rise in his chest whenever another man even so much as glanced in her direction. He just couldn't help it. And she loved it. It made her feel protected.

She already felt protected around Baldwin, but just knowing that he was willing to stand against another for so much as looking at her, despite his declining health, made her happy.

Y/n took a sip of her wine and sighed contently, staring into the distance. It was not long before the king returned.

The expression of contempt on his face melted away as soon as he saw her. She chuckled as he sat down. “Someones jealous,” she taunted, running a hand through his hair. Baldwin smiled at her remark. “Yes yes, I know. I just don’t appreciate prying eyes on my beautiful queen” he put his head back and stared lovingly into her eyes. 

Y/n continued to stroke her husband's hair as he told her what he and Bailan had discussed inside.

“Did you tell him off for looking at me?” y/n chuckled, half joking. “In fact I did,” Baldwin replied with a smirk. The young queen grinned and rolled her eyes, nudging his shoulder playfully. “You do not have to do such things my love, my heart is yours and nobody else's” she poked his chest with her index finger.

“I know, I just want to make sure others know that also” he said, taking her hand in his. “All I said was that ‘I don't appreciate people looking at my wife like she is something to be touched’ that is all my love. I did not hurt the man��.

Y/n shook her head with a smile. “Lets just say, I would not be opposed to you doing so” she smirked slightly, putting her head up just enough to look at him.

Baldwin raised his eyebrows at that. “Well I can assure you that if it was not for my health, I would do so” he said softly. “That is all I need to know” y/n kissed his cheek as she said that, returning to her original position, resting against his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her waist and placed his head ontop of hers.

[improbable-outset]

📄 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐦

Kenji Sato x Fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐔𝐥𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.7k

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Coach’s daughter AU, Fluff, lots of shameless flirting, teasing, secret relationship

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Over coffee and conversation, Ken finds solace in a café, far from the chaos of the baseball stadium.

Ken had never felt his heart gallop this intensely before. Not even during his rise to stardom with the Dodgers back in LA could compare to the thrill and anticipation coursing through him right now.

This was more personal— unpredictable in a way that no game or spotlight could prepare him for. For the first time in his life, he wasn’t chasing a title.

It was a moment with someone special that made everything else feel secondary.

Tucked away in a quiet street of Tokyo’s lesser known district, the glow of the neon signs reflected off slick pavements as he watched you navigate the path, weaving between parked bikes and stray vending machines.

The faint hum of the distant train was the only sound that filled the night’s silence.

“Ken!” your voice rang through the empty streets, bright and familiar. As you drew closer, Ken couldn’t help but notice how the muted lights reflected in your glossy eyes, giving them an otherworldly sparkle.

He didn’t say anything until you were close enough for you to hear him without yelling.

“You made it…” His lips curled into a smile, meeting your gaze with a tender look. “Did you get enough rest? You look a bit tired.”

“Barely,” you confessed, a playful tilt painted on your lips. “I’ve been counting down the minutes until I can see you again.”

Ken was used to fans clamoring for a moment of his time, expressing their excitement to see him. But something about the eagerness in your voice and the slight bounce in your step sent a flutter through him.

He glanced around, checking that the streets were still empty before reaching out to cradle your cheek.

“You’re so clingy.” he teased, still holding his grin.

“I would’ve kissed you right now if we weren’t in public.” you shot back with a small smirk.

Ken leaned closer until his face was eye level to yours, his voice dropped to a heated whisper

“I wouldn’t complain if you did.”

The impulse to close the distance simmered under his skin, but the risk of being seen was enough to keep him rooted.

“But I also don’t want an angry mob of your dad’s supporters coming after me after catching us in a compromising position.”

Your smile faltered, replaced by a shadow of worry. “Right…my dad. I don’t want anybody from the press finding out either.”

“Yeah, the press…” Ken’s expression hardened, his tone turning bitter.

The media always lurked, threatening to expose what little happiness he could claim. He wished he didn’t have to sneak around like this.

He envied those who could show affection openly, like some of his teammates who left games with their families in tow. The normalcy forever felt out of reach for Ken.

“Sometimes, I wonder what it would be like…” he murmured, eyes drifting past the dim glow of the distant lights. “If we dated openly, without worrying about your father, or the fans, or the media.”

Ken rarely admitted these things, but seeing how you aligned with his unspoken thoughts made it easier to voice his fragile feelings— especially about your relationship.

“What could the fans do anyway? It’s not like they could control your life.”

“You’d be surprised,” Ken said with a hint of edge. “There are some intense fans out there that take their idols' personal lives way too seriously.”

Ken didn’t want to think too deeply about a situation blowing out of proportion. If rumours began, he knew all too well how quickly fans would start prying on your life, looking for any reason to judge.

Even the slightest flaw could unleash a tornado of online harassment. He didn’t want to bring that sort of trouble into your life.

His jaws clenched, a grimace flashing across his features before he shook the thought away.

“I’m more worried about dad. If he ever found out about us…I can’t even imagine how he’d react. Especially after that latest press conference. He came home moping,” you said, the last words trailed into a tired groan.

“I know, I could’ve handled it better.” Ken chuckled, before it was shadowed by guilt as he remembered his altercation with Coach Shimura. “I hate when the press digs for gossip.”

A low rumble of an approaching car snapped him out of his thoughts. Its headlights illuminated the empty street, casting fleeting shadows over the both of you, before disappearing down the narrow road.

You take a hold of Ken’s hand and gently tug him forward. “Come on, let’s head inside.”

You slip into a small, dimly lit cafe— a hidden gem that seemed to be empty from the outside view. It’s secluded places like this that makes your relationship feel safe, untouched by the eyes of the world.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries enveloped him, a silent call of the rare moment of peace you shared.

The cafe itself was modest in size, with wooden chairs and tables neatly arranged beneath the dim ambiance lighting.

There were a few patrons scattered here and there— a couple sharing a quiet intimate conversation near the window at the high table, and a few students hunched over textbooks.

Sparse decorations adorned the walls: faded vintage poster advertising sodas and sweet treats with its vibrant colours faded over time.

At the centre of each table sat a miniature cherry blossom tree, the soft pink petals contrasted against the dark wood.

Together, you crossed the cafe's interior, where a lone worker was wiping down the countertops. The glass display case in front of you showcased an array of cakes and pastries, though the selection was limited at this hour.

“You gonna order anything?” you asked, eyes scanning over the hanging menu above the counter.

“Yeah…a latte and maybe a cake, too,” Ken paused, gaze flickering over the cake display before shifting back to you. “You want anything?”

“I’ll probably get a bowl of anmitsu,” you mused, turning to meet his eyes. “What kind of cake will you be getting?”

Ken hums in thought for a moment, leaning in closer to the display. Rows of desserts were neatly arranged.

Fluffy cake rolls on the tile shelf with their swirls of cream peaking our— flavours ranged from strawberry to matcha. Slices of chiffon cakes in pastal colours on the middle shelf. And finally, tiny containers of pudding at the bottom.

“Not sure yet,” he murmured, his mind wandering over the cake display. His smile took a slight wicked edge as he added. “Maybe a cake I can feed you a bite of…”

The image of him holding out a spoonful to you flashed through his mind, followed by your lips closing around it. His imagination reeled, and he caught himself chewing his lower lip, a faint flush creeping up his neck.

Just as his thoughts threaten to wander further, your voice pulls him back to the present.

“Their chiffon cakes are always good.” you said, gesturing towards the pastel cakes.

“Yeah?” Ken followed your gaze to the neatly placed cakes. “But they’re crumbly. I’ll get cake all over your face.”

“It’ll be worth it though.” you teased.

Ken chuckled, glancing at the display again and taking another moment to look at the options again. His eyes shifted to the pastries with their delicious golden crust glistening under the light.

“Maybe I should get something messy, then,” he leaned in close to your ear, his voice dropping to a whisper again. “Like…one of those cream puffs with the sweet, sticky filling. I could lick it off your lips.”

Your eyes widened, and you let out an exaggerated gasp, swatting his chest. “Shhh! You can’t say that out here.”

“Why not?” he grinned, voice lacing with his smugness. “No one’s paying attention to us.”

Despite your playful scolding, Ken’s chest swelled with satisfaction and his ego soared.

He was aware that he shouldn’t push things too far, especially in public, but seeing how flustered you were and your stunned expression was too irresistible not to enjoy.

“Still…what if someone was eavesdropping on us.” you said, a hint of caution in your voice as your eyes darted briefly towards the other patrons.

“Then they’ll just hear me flirting. Harmless isn’t it? Doesn’t matter if they know how badly I want to taste the cream puff from your lips.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“What? I can’t tell my girlfriend how badly I want to kiss her?”

“Hmph, just order already.” You crossed your arms with mock indignation.

“Alright I’ll order for us, you go and find us a seat.”

His eyes followed your form as you weaved through the tables, your movement unhurried but purposeful. You found a table in the corner of the cafe that offered both privacy and a clear line of sight to the entrance.

Ken couldn’t help but hold his gaze at you with the cafe’s lighting cast a warm glow over your features.

Dragging his focus back to the task at hand, Ken stepped up to the counter and placed the order— a latte and a slice of cake for himself and a bowl of anmitsu for you.

Ken watched as steam erupted with a high-pitch hiss from the milk frother, the aromatic scent of the coffee mixed with the faint sweetness from the pastries.

The barista poured the milk into the latte cup with grace and precision, creating a delicate foam on top. Besides her, another worker arranged your anmitsu, layering the sweet toppings before placing it alongside with a spoon.

When the tray was finally ready, Ken paid and carefully carried it across the room. The clinking sound of ceramic cups and murmurs of the patrons accompanied his steps.

Setting the tray down on the table with a small smile on his lips, he slid into the seat across from you, feeling the soft cushioned chair beneath him.

Your eyes swept over the content of the tray before landing on the cream puff besides the latte. Your brow arched in disbelief. “Oh my God, you actually got it.”

“I did. Why? Did you think I wouldn’t? You thought I was bluffing?”

“Well, yeah. You’re always bluffing.”

The corner of his lips curled into a smirk at your surprise. Ken pushed your amnitsu closer to you before claiming his own plate. A faint whiff of the dessert’s sweet and rich scent rose to his nose, stirring his anticipation.

Picking up the fork, he scooped a bit of the cream cake and popped it in his mouth. He deliberately closed his eyes and let out an exaggerated, drawn-out moan of pleasure at the taste.

Even with his eyes shut, he could feel your gaze burning into him. He even took it a step further and started licking the cream off his lips.

When he opened his eyes, he found you pulling a face and he couldn’t help but give you a cheeky grin. “It’s delicious, by the way…”

“Hmm, it does look good.”

“Come on…you’ve been staring at it long enough. Have a bite.”

Ken took another spoon full of the dessert before holding it out to you. The moment you leaned in to reach for the spoon, he felt his heart spike and his senses on high alert— taking in every single detail of your action.

His eyes never left your mouth as they parted and closed delicately around the fork. He felt the fork grow lighter as you took the bite.

His focus stayed on your tongue flicking across your upper lip to catch the traces of cream and powdered sugar.

Witnessing it happen in real time was far more tantalising than his imagination— the sight was intoxicating.

He swallowed thickly, forcibly pushing the heat stirring in his chest.

A heat pooled in his gut, seeing you chew on the cake thoughtfully, completely oblivious to the effect you were having on him.

Ken inhaled sharply, trying to ground himself as he reached for a napkin. His hands trembled more than usual as he leaned forward and dapped the corner of your mouth to wipe away the cream you’d missed.

But instead of pulling back after, his thumb lingered, brushing over your lower lip— the same lips he had kissed feverishly in the past. The contact was light and featherlight but enough to make his stomach flip.

You froze under his touch, meeting his gaze. Your lips parted slightly to speak.

“Light and fluffy…”

“Mhm…” Ken hummed, completely distracted. Though he wasn’t sure if he was thinking about the cream puff you just had or the softness of your lips.

“Do you wanna try mine?”

Ken blinked rapidly, snapping out of his trance. Reluctantly, he pulled his hand away from your lips, the warmth of your skin fading too quickly.

But his attention turned to your bowl of anmitsu, taking in the vibrant layers of fruit, glossy jelly cubes, and the soft mochi balls.

“Sure…looks delicious.”

Taking the spoon you offered, scooped a piece of mochi and fruit from the bowl.

The fruits were cool and refreshing in his mouth, and blended with the mochi which gave a pleasantly chewy texture.

He handed the spoon back to you, still chewing on the mochi. You pushed the fruit and the mochi around in the bowl with the spoon meticulously.

“They put a lot of mochi in this.” you commented.

“Yeah, I’m not surprised.”

You reached for the brown sugar syrup that came with your anmitsu and poured it over the bowl. “Try it now.”

Ken scooped another bite, now coated in the syrup. The sugary bursts mixed with the fruits tang, and he let out a low hum of approval at the sweetness. “Hm…it does taste better.”

“Too sweet?”

“It’s already sweet enough, though I think you’re sweeter.”

“Corny.” you said, dragging out the word to emphasise your disapproval, though the faint smile on your lips betrayed you.

Ken chuckled at your reaction, he knew you were only disguising the effect his words were having on you.

He propped his elbow on the table, leaning his chin against his palm with his eyes drinking in the sight of you.

“It’s only corny because you get flustered every time. Did you see your face earlier? When I was talking about the cream puffs?”

You only rolled your eyes at his words, a grin forming on your lips now. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“So, you’re only putting up with me because I’m cute?”

“And maybe because you’re a star player and super rich and whatever.” you replied, twirling the spoon through the anmitsu and waving your hands dismissively.

Ken tilts his head, the back and forth banter bringing a warmth in his chest. Being with you like this— relaxed and unguarded— was a relief in ways he rarely allowed himself to think about.

Having conversations like this with you felt refreshing knowing he would tease and you’ll do it right back.

He tapped his finger against his chin in a mock pensiveness before responding back. “Right, so you’re telling me it's my money and status you’re after, not my dazzling personality or good looks?”

“Oh, that too, I guess.”

“Is that how it’s gonna be, princess? Pretending you don’t secretly like me for more than my money or looks.”

“And what if I said yes?”

“Well,” he said in mock contemplation. “I’d have to work extra hard to win you over. Though I’d say that I'm pretty confident I have a head start.”

“I think you might need to focus on getting on dad’s good side first.”

Something struck inside him at your words— like a whiplash. The mention of your father always hit differently, a reminder of the uneasy dynamic that lingered between them. Ken let out a short sigh, his chest tightening.

It was still a sore spot for him that Shimura initially disapproved of him and his less-than-stellar past behind— though it wasn’t unexpected.

Despite everything Ken had accomplished back in LA— leaving his troubles behind and earning his respect in the field— it seemed his reputation preceded him.

Shimura, along with his teammates, had always treated him like the brash American kid trying to catch up, even though he came back to Japan to prove him among his own people.

With you, however, it was the opposite. You didn’t see him as an outsider or just another player in your dads team. You made him feel like he belonged.

That contrast made moments like these jarring, as if he was living two different lives— one as your boyfriend, and the other as a player constantly trying to win over your father.

Ken’s tone shifted quickly to be more serious, exposing his vulnerability in his words.

“Yeah…I’m trying, princess. It’s just, I don’t want to screw things up and risk not being able to see you again like this.”

Ken took a sip from his latte, the beverage now lukewarm against his tongue, but his mind was elsewhere and far from the cozy warmth of the cafe.

He knew he shouldn’t be dwelling on the ‘what-ifs,’ not when he was on a date with you. But as he sat there, he couldn’t ignore the nagging thoughts that pulled him under. How different would his life be if things had turned out another way?

What if his mother had never taken him to LA? If he’d stayed in Japan, would Shimura still look at him with the faint edge of distrust?

Would he see him different— one who wasn’t marked by a childhood spent feeling like an outcast in a foreign country?

Ken’s jaws clenched. He had spent most of his life in America, trying to fit into a culture that didn’t quite know what to do with him. The bullying had been relentless, the teasing cutting deep in ways he hadn’t fully healed from, leaving the scar of isolation.

Friendships were distant at best. Romantic relationships were practically nonexistent. For a long time, he felt like no one truly saw him.

Even the rise to stardom with the Dodgers hadn’t changed that much. Sure, people admired him, celebrated with him— but it still felt hollow and fragile.

None of it felt real, not like this. Not like you.

He glanced at you across the table, your head down as you inspected your dessert in front of you. If he’d never returned to Japan, he wouldn’t be sitting here right now, sharing this quiet, intimate moment with the only person who truly sees him.

Still, a bitter reminder lingered in the back of his mind. Would he have risen to stardom at all if he hadn’t gone to LA? Despite how brutal it was, the isolation and struggles had shaped him— it made him resilient-driven.

Without those years of grit and loneliness , would he have had the means to lead the Giants to victory? Would he have been ready to take his father’s Ultraman duties when the time came?

Ken sighed again, finishing off the last bite of his cream puff before taking another sip of his latte. It really was strange, the way life worked.

The very things that had made him feel out of place— his complicated family history, his American upbringing, the expectation of following his father’s footsteps— had somehow led him here, with you.

However, the weight of those ‘what-ifs’ still pressed onto his chest. His life with you— a fragile happiness— was precarious. He couldn’t shake the fear that one wrong move could send it all crashing down.

Being caught in the act by your father. It made his throat constrict with anxiety. He already knew that Shimura didn’t trust him. What if that made him believe that he wasn’t good enough for you? That he couldn’t take care of you the way you deserve?

He took another sip from his latte, though it did little to sooth the knot in his chest.

“You know,” you began, not looking up from your bowl as you stirred the syrup into the anmitsu, “being with you makes it easier to forget about everything else.” you said, not looking up from your bowl as you spoke.

Your words caught him off guard, but the tension in his shoulders started to melt. His stunned expression softened, replaced by something gentler.

“Yeah…that’s part of why I like you so much. You make me forget about everything.” His cheeks flushed slightly how openly heartfelt he was now as the words left his mouth, but he didn’t shy away from their weight. “It’s like…you make me want to be a better man.”

He reached out and let his fingers skim across the back of your hand— a subtle touch that carried all his unspoken emotions that he struggled to articulate.

You paused, looking up at him. “I don’t think I can imagine your struggles…especially considering your money and fame overshadow all of that.”

“Everyone thinks that it's easy.” Ken’s lips quivered into a humourless smile. “Being a player admired by thousands. I guess some parts of it are great. But there’s still a lot of stress and pressure.”

He glanced down at the flakes of his cream puff on the empty plate with his thoughts flickering like the steam rising from his latte.

Expectation pulled at him from every corner of Ken’s life— like a massive tree, sprawling yet burdened.

The roots that ran deep were from his fathers influence. They were planted firmly in the soil of his childhood and enchtranched his upbringing and identity.

The roots were unshakable, just like his fathers legacy of being Ultraman— something he was expected to fulfill.

No matter how far he had gone, across the Pacific to LA, he’d never truly escape those roots. Even now they wound tighter around him, tethered to the ground he was expected to nurture.

Then there was the bark— the protective layer. That was Coach Shimura and his teammates. It shielded him from the eternal storms, but it wasn’t invincible. It still demanded so much from the tree itself.

Shimura’s expectations weren’t harsh, but they were heavy and carried their own weight. The bark was strong and steady, but sometimes, it felt like it was tightening. As if holding the tree too firmly in place.

But it was the branch of the tree that weighed him down the most— the fans and the public image. They reached far and wide, growing outwardly. Branches were supposed to flourish.

But how were they expected to grow if you don’t cater to its needs. That’s what it felt like for Ken.

One wrong move; one bad game, and they could snap off. Every game felt like a performance of those branches, trying to keep those intact, making sure they don’t fall under pressure.

But no matter how strong they appeared, Ken knew how easily they could break.

And then there were the leaves, fragile and fleeting— the opinion of the critics, the headlines of papers, the ever-shifting opinions on social media.

Leaves changed with the seasons. One day could be lush and green, full of praises and admiration. The next, they withered and fell, leaving the tree bare and exposed. Their praises were temporary and their critics were choppy.

Though the leaves were less permanent, they still needed care and their loss could hurt the tree entirely. However, Ken couldn’t stop the seasons from changing or the wind from blowing.

Ken swallowed thickly, his eyes glued to the table as his train of thoughts spiraled further. Being that tree sometimes felt like he was stretching thin, trying to meet the demands of every root, branch and leaf.

And then there was you.

You weren’t a part of that endless tree. Not another branch to hold up, nor another leaf to nourish. At least, not yet. But the fear gnawed at him, dark and persistent, whispering at the edges of his mind.

What if you have expectations too?

You hadn’t said much or demanded anything, but it was only natural, wasn’t it? Relationships are always built on unspoken agreements of needs, hopes, and desires.

What kind of boyfriend did you want him to be? What were you looking for in him? Would he ever be enough?

It wasn’t that he doubted your feelings for him. It was the pressure he felt to be the person that you deserved.

To always be charming, supportive, attentive. To make time for you despite his demanding career.

For so much of his life, he had been judged by the outside world— his performance, his persona, his wins, and his losses. The thought of being seen by you that way made his throat tighten.

What if one day, you grew tired of him or wasn’t getting what you wanted from him and left? The thought alone of the empty space you would leave behind broke his heart and made his mouth dry.

It was worse than losing a game, worse than headlines calling him a failure.

Even with the lighthearted conversation and teasing you just shared earlier, his doubts were almost impossible to shrug off.

His mind were a battlefield of his insecurities and worries, but the warmth of your hands that pulled him out of his dark thoughts startled him.

You brought his hand and gently kissed over his knuckles. “Even if things do turn out bad for you, I’ll still think you’re incredible.”

The affectionate gesture unravelled him, nearly spinning him off his axis from being flustered— his mind momentarily going blank.

It wasn’t just the kiss— it was the conviction in your voice. The quiet, unwavering way you said it.

He let out a quiet sigh, his eyes half-lidded as he leaned a little closer to you. The warmth of your kiss still lingered on his hand.

“You always know how to make me feel better.” he murmured, his voice carrying a sincerity he rarely let show.

“You’ll still have all of me, even if you mess up. And I know you’ll do the same.” You brow arched as you added, “Right?”

Ken tilted his head, an amused smirk played on his lips at your remark at the end. The tension in his chest was replaced by fond amusement.

“Of course I will. You think I’d trade you in for someone else?” his voice lowered, his eyes holding yours with an intensity that made his next words feel like a vow. “I'm not letting you go princess…not for anything.”

At that moment, the weight of the world seemed distant, as if the noise of expectations and pressure had diluted to a low hum.

He was so focused on looking at you, Ken didn’t notice you sneaking your hands across the table to reach for his coffee mug until you announced it.

“I’m taking a sip from your coffee.” you said, already snatching the cup.

Ken blinked, catching up to the present. “Hey…that’s mine.”

“I don’t have anything to wash down the mochi.”

“Hmm, can’t say no to that.”

Your face scrunched slightly in distaste after you took a sip. “You don’t put sugar in coffee?”

Ken shook his head and chuckled at the face you made. “No…I like the bitterness of the coffee. It’s more enjoyable that way.”

“I suppose the cream puff makes up for the sweetness.”

“No cream puffs for you any time soon if you keep stealing my drinks.”

“I don’t want anymore anyways,” you huffed in feigned offends. “Too bitter.”

“Awh what’s wrong? Can’t handle the taste of something that’s not over-sugared.”

“It’s not that…how do you drink that raw with no sugar?” your nose scrunched in mock indignation.

“I’m just used to it, I like the stronger taste of my coffee.” he glanced down at his coffee mug before looking back at you. “How could you drink something that’s so sweet?”

“It won’t be too sweet. The sugar just cancels out the bitterness.” you said, matter-of-factly.

Ken only rolled his eyes, responding with an exaggerated sweet tone. “Sure, princess. It’s not too sweet…just enough to make it a sugary drink instead of actually having a coffee taste.”

You pushed the mug back to him, waving off his dramatics. It was almost cathartic how the conversation could go from heartfelt and tender to teasing and flirting, like a flip of a switch.

With you, it always felt right, like stepping into the sun after being caught in the rain.

Ken shook his head at your dismissal, lifting the mug to take another sip of the latte. He didn’t mind the bitterness, especially if it meant sharing more moments with you.

Your eyes flickered past him, freezing on something near the cafe entrance.

“Crap.” you muttered.

Ken’s brow furrowed before turning to see where you were looking. Blood rushed in his ear the moment he spotted his teammates walking through the door.

Their presence wasn't loud or disruptive, but rather casual as they made their way towards the counter. The familiar jerseys and laughter sent a jolt of panic through him and a look of slight trepidation crossed his face.

“Crap…” he echoed your words, quickly turning back to you. “I think that’s our queue to leave.”

What were the odds? The cafe was in a quiet area, far from the usual hotspots, and yet here they were. His shoulders stiffened as he scanned the room, trying to gauge if anyone had spotted you.

Ken stood up first, his chair scraped softly against the floor. They weren’t looking in your direction but it was only a matter of time if you both stayed there any longer.

His voice lowered in your ear. “Come on.”

His hands found your wrist, lightly gripping it as he guided you towards the door without being noticed.

“They haven’t seen us, yet.” you said, glancing nervously at the group.

“Let’s not give them the chance.” His voice was barely audible, and his grip on your wrist tightened as you both made it to the door.

The air in the cafe felt heavier with every step. Ken’s pulse quickened and he resisted the urge to look over his shoulder.

The brass of the door handle was cool against Ken’s palm as he pushed it open. The cool breeze brushed against his face, a welcome contrast to the tension that had knotted inside.

The cafe, once a warm refuge that provided comfort, now felt like a minefield— every glance a potential threat.

Ken scanned the area of anybody potentially following you both. The buzz of distant traffic and the rustle leaves were the only signs that greeted you. Once he was satisfied, he let out a loud sigh of relief.

“So, where to now?” you asked, breaking the silence.

“We should probably get off this street and go somewhere else more quiet…and private.”

Ken turned down the corner, his strides confident but unhurried. The two of you emerged into an empty car park bathed in the dim, orange glow of streetlights.

Everything else felt insignificant now, far from the predicament from the cafe or the traffic beyond. Ken led the way toward the far corner, where a sleek bike rested— its polished surface gleaming under the lights.

“Is that your bike?” you gasped, taking in the sigh that was in front of you.

“Yeah, that’s my ride.” The pride was evident in his voice and his expression, seeing the look on your face.

“It’s beautiful.” The genuine awe in your voice sent a ripple through him.

He didn’t say anything, only gave the bike a fond pat before throwing his leg over it and settling into the seat.

“You up for a quick cruise?”

“You sure?”

“Of course. Have you ever been on one?”

“No….” you admitted sheepishly, your eyes darted to the floor out of shyness. He felt a hint of his male ego spike at that, his eyes roaming at your figure.

“Well,” he said, shifting forward on the seat to give you room. “I guess I’ll be your first ride, then. Hop on— I’ll take care of you.”

You hesitated for a moment, your hands brushing against the cool leather of the seat.

“Have you ever had a woman ride behind you before?” you asked. Ken didn’t miss the flicker of doubt in your voice

His hands tightened on the handlebar, looking back at you. It wasn’t the question that threw him off but the way you asked it.

He recognised the insecurity, the way it slipped out almost against your own will. And it hit him harder than expected.

The idea that you might think he was the type to collect fleeting connections and one night stands stung.

“Of course not.” His voice was steady, stripped of its usual tease. “You’re the only one I’d ever want to give a ride to.

You let out a small, nervous laugh at that. “I guess I’ll be your first, too.”

Ken chuckled, patting the seat behind him. “Damn right you will be.”

He wouldn’t admit it, but making you feel secure in this moment felt more important than anything else.

Ken’s joyrides were something sacred— his personal retreat from the noise and chaos. The familiar rumble of the engine had always been his companion, a constant source of solace.

It wasn’t something shared with anyone. Ever.

But now, as you stood next to the leather seat, it struck him how different this felt. Letting you into this part of his life was like cracking open a private door, one he’d never let anybody step into.

The thrill of it sent a flutter through him, both exhilarating and unnerving.

You finally took your seat behind him, and the shift in weight sent a wave of awareness through him. He swallowed hard when it suddenly hit him how close you were behind him.

Then your arms wrapped tightly around his waist, and he felt his nerves spike. The heat of your fingertips grazed his abdomen sent little sparks of electricity through his body.

It wasn’t fear he was feeling but an intensity he wasn’t prepared for.

He let out a shallow breath as he felt your body pressed even closer. The sight of you behind him in the side mirror was enough to draw in a quick breath.

With a flick of the kill switch, the bike roared to life beneath him. The vibration and the sound broke the stillness, carrying you both out of the car park and into the Tokyo streets at an incredible speed.

The neon glow of the city painted streaks of light across the dark streets, and the hum of the traffic blurred in the background.

It was just you and him with the quiet rhythm of your trust that kept him grounded.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @despacito-uwu16 @roserfz27

[local-diavolo-anon]

i apologise if i'm posting this much about the DLC but i am very excited

so theory time! this time about Glamrock Bonnie!

someone found Glamrock Bonnie in bonnie bowl and someonw else got his pieces from the gamefiles and stuck the model back together (the images are not mine, i have no idea who even psoted them ebcause they've been reposted a crapload of times, but i know the originals came from twitter)

i feel a bit sad than logically he was there the whole time during the main game as well and we simply couldn't see him

but also: He has claw marks on his chest, which i think pretty much confirms that monty is the one that broke him apart.

however. that's not nearly enough damage to decommission a glamrock animatronic, as we have seen.

hell monty looks like this in the dlc and he is still kicking (probably by the power of god tho) and i remember seeing THIS video some time ago, so let me bring you something a bit painful:

most people i've seen pinpoin monty's actions toward bonnie as envy and resentment, however in monty golfs whenever we see character cutouts or holograms Freddy is the one in the shadows, always. wouldn't have made it more sense for monty to try and attack someone he quite clearly disliked instead of bonnie? we know freddy and bonnie were close, so with some stretch you could even say monty was jealous of freddy's relationship with bonnie (but i'm not going to account that here) If the theory from that video is true and bonnie was the first and only trial test of the grlitchtrap virus on a full glamrock animatronic, what if monty noticed? what if monty saw that bonnie was acting weird, and when confronted him realized something was severely wong for a reason or another? and either to prevent the spread of the virus, OR simply out of self preservation he was forced to fight with bonnie? because if the mimic were to see someone noticed him, he'd likely try and make them disappear in one way or another so my theory-timeline is: Bonnie was infected, started acting weird, wandered around and ultimately ended in monty golf, monty saw him and went to him, then noticed something was wrong, bonnie attacked him to make sure nobody knew, and monty had to defend himself.

i'm fairly sure this is at least somewhat correct because Monty's claws can do some serious damage, and definitely more than what Bonnie's torso and head show. (edit: yes even without upgrade, Monty still has very big and sharp claws, realistically they could totally do that amount of damage, + in the original draft of the game, from Monty you were supposed to take his legs, and the claw upgrade was not a thing at all, yet it was always hinted he did caused bonnie's decommission)

all of this to say that bonnie more likely was decommissioned not because of the damage, but rather because because when technicians tried to fix him they noticed something had infected him, and to prevent any further spreading they were forced to deactivate him.

[queenbrucewayne]

First Encounter

A/n: I think I’m going to make this into a multi part thing. Why not, I guess.

Bruce Wayne, the man that had the deepest pockets in Gotham. He was what men envied, and what women swooned over. He was also your boss.

You were working at Wayne industries for two months now, and most of the work had been a repeat of transferring documents between floors and helping with charity projects. It was a great job, with good pay and friendly coworkers that helped out with any questions you would have.

Although Mr, Wayne was apart of a lot more then you expected, he still wouldn’t be around for a whole lot. That would he expected though since one man couldn’t work on everything the company had to offer.

You learned it was best to be focused on the details of the job, which also meant the people around you. Including Mr, Wayne.

Your first encounter with him was from a charity ball. He was at the party chatting with a bunch of fancy suits, drinking champagne that was definitely the cost of your months rent.

A few workers had been asked to stay for the party to help organize any donations made for the night. Of course getting paid for the time.

It was a nice event, everyone in their best dressed and willing to donate plenty on the charities that were sponsored tonight.

“I’m going to go get some more welcoming cocktails from the kitchen.” Your coworker nodded and you set off.

You opened the door to the kitchen, saying a quick hi to one of the servers. Walking over to the huge walk in fridge, you quickly spotted the tray you were looking for that was covered in plastic.

Backing out with the tray in hand you quickly turned and unexpectedly ran into the last person you expected to see in the kitchen.

“Mr, Wayne!”

Surprising you both, the tray you were holding had lost it’s balance. You crashed into a sturdy body, which then made you lose balance. Before you could fall backwards, you felt a grip on your wrists pull you forward, this time making you stumble a bit.

The tray hit the floor with a loud crash and you were probably going to be next, but instead you looked up to see two blue eyes staring down at you. Mr, Wayne had you close to him, holding you against his chest to keep balance. You had gripped both his biceps tightly to try and keep yourself up, although it seemed like he wasn’t struggling at all.

“Well… that was dramatic.” Y/n laughed nervously, feeling just how close you both were to each other.

He smirked, “You okay? It’s not very often I get to have a hero moment.”

Did he just… was he flirting. Nah, this was just his smooth talk he was known for.

Pulling you up gently he waited until you were both at a straight stance. “Thank you, I definitely made a mess of things.” Looking down, you noticed all the food was scattered.

Taking a small trash can from behind, you got on your hands and knees and started to clean up the mess. What you didn’t expect was for an extra pair of hands to do the same thing.

“Oh, Mr, Wayne, you don’t have to bother with this. You really should get back to the party.” You looked up to see he was in the same position as you. He glanced up making eye contact, then quickly looking back down.

“This is nothing, besides it gives me an excuse to take a break from being out there.”

You thought he was joking, but he definitely had a hint of annoyance to his tone.

“Is that why, you were in the kitchen? To get away from having to talk to more people? To hide?”

He sighed, “I know, it’s my event, and it’s for a great cause, but some of these conversations I’ve been having is rather exhausting to say the least. I mean… having to pretend I can relate to their extra luxury lifestyle is getting tedious.”

You nodded, thinking a bit more about some of the things you’ve read on him in the last couple of months. “So… you don’t spend your time like they do? Even if you are rich like them?” Before you could stop yourself from saying it, it was too late. Glancing up you noticed he didn’t seem too bothered by the question.

“Just because we all have money, doesn’t mean I go about my life as they do.”

“So, I guess the tabloids really got it wrong about you.”

“You thought they were real?” He stopped to look up.

You shook your head. “No, I definitely noticed how much time you spend at the office; way more then any other boss I’ve ever worked with in the past.”

“And you like it here?” He asked.

This time you looked up, throwing the last piece of food that fell into the trash can. “I do. I feel like we actually make a difference here, and we probably wouldn’t do as well if it weren’t for your social presence.”

Standing up, he held out a hand. “I definitely can’t take all the glory, I got amazing employees.”

Taking his hand, you got to your feet, dusting off the dress you were wearing you picked up the fallen tray and set it on the counter. “We got a great boss.”

Bruce smiled. He walked to the fridge door and opened it again, grabbing another tray of what you were trying to get before. “Let’s walk these out there, maybe I can pass as a waiter and avoid any more dreadful conversations.”

“Yeah right, everyone knows your face, you couldn’t blend in if your life depended on it.”

“Oh, don’t be too sure. I could probably get as far as ten steps.” He teased.

“I say four, but what do I know.”

You both started to walk towards the kitchen exit, you turned back around to make sure everything was put back. It got you thinking of when he caught you, he was extremely fast on his reflexes, most people probably wouldn’t have reacted in time like the way he did… and there was also a certain look in his eye, it was only for a second but it definitely wasn’t anything like his normal teasing attitude.

“You coming?”

You turned back to see him waiting at the door. Even with the tray in his hand it was still hard to believe he could be mistaken as a waiter.

“Yeah, sorry, I was just checking to make sure everything was good.”

Walking next to his side, both of you made your way out back to the party. He made it all the way to where you had been standing before, setting the tray down, only to be approached a second later by a fancy suit that wanted all his attention.

He turned to look over his shoulder at you, shrugging as the guy walked him over to the other side of the room.

It gave you the opportunity to watch him the whole night, really seeing the difference in how he was talking to the people of status vs how he was in the kitchen. It really must be exhausting to be Bruce Wayne.

[elysian-chaos]

do i wanna know? - suguru getō

summary: suguru might want you just a little too much word count: 2k(ish) contents: suguru x gn!reader, pre-relationship, no curses au, both are in their early-ish 20's, pining, yearning, flirting, there's one (1) kiss scene, pet names (included but not limited to: gorgeous, baby, angel, i think i threw in sweetheart a couple times), drinking (there's a scener where they do shots), smoking (shoko only), satoru and shoko, mentions of shoko flirting with women, being drunk, some food, this is essentially a song fic, suguru is pathetic for reader, if you want things to make sense this is literally not the place, sugu with his hair tied, soft soft soft, too many commas, maybe kinda cringe ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (english is not my first language but my perfectionist ass tried my hardest okay😭) author's notes: thank you @storiesoflilies for the delicious brain worm that led to this and for listening to my ideas about it. and to @ohimsummer for beta-reading this (everyone "say thank you summer!!" because without summer this would be kinda stiff and awkward). i love the both of you 🥹💛 this is a part of a series (hopefully the motivation to write doesn't leave me) so keep your eyes peeled for the rest. also reblogs are highly appreciated👉👈

“you can put it on my tab.”

you hear a voice behind you as you finish ordering your drink at the bar of the club, a refuge from the bright colourful lights of the dance floor, turning your head slightly to look at the newly familiar face as he stands behind you.

(have you got colour in your cheeks? he wonders.)

“suguru,” you chastise softly, the corners of your lips twitching up at the feel his hands coming to rest at your waist. “i can pay for my own drinks, you know?”

“i know,” you can feel his lips curve against your ear as he leans forward, warm fingers grasping at your chin to look at you properly, “can’t i buy a drink for you, gorgeous? see that beautiful beautiful face flush, hm?”

suguru’s heart preens at the sight of your cheeks gaining colour, you pressing the side of your face into your shoulder with a smile.

“fine. i’ll let you buy the drink for me. i’m still not happy about it though.”

he chuckles, picking up the drink from the bar as the bartender places it, grabbing your hand gently to guide you in front of him, “come on, everyone’s waiting for us.”

“i never even told you i was going out tonight,” you comment, looking at him with curiosity, trusting him to save you from stumbling or running into anything or anyone.

“didn’t have to, gorgeous. just guessed.”

“because you know me so well?”

“didn’t say that either,” he chuckled, carefully piloting you through the crowds of drunks and servers to one of the corner booths from where you could already hear satoru’s loud laughter and see the smoke flowing from shoko’s lips.

“sho!” you exclaim, escaping suguru’s orbit, a rogue plane, for practically skipping to your new centre of gravity, slipping into the booth on the same side as the brunette to hug her.

shoko chuckles as she drapes her arm around your shoulder, keeping the cigarette in her other hand away from you and nuzzling her nose against your temple, “hey.”

you smile harder. “i missed you! you were supposed to call me,” you complain as you pull away before turning to satoru and high-fiving the man with teasing on the tip of his tongue, ready to unravel.

suguru watches with a fond smile as you interact with his best friends, sitting down beside satoru and placing your drink in front of you.

the conversation flows easy, the four of you talk and laugh and drink before satoru whisks shoko away to the dance floor, leaving you and geto alone.

you scoot further in the booth, creating space for him to sit beside you as you watch his friends dance, taking sips of your drink. you lean your head against suguru’s shoulder, an arm looping with his.

“he’s so easy to be around.”

suguru notes the hint of envy wrapped in admiration in your voice, honeyed eyes captivated by your face rather than the sight of his friends goofing off, voice soft, “don’t tell me you’re jealous of him of all people?”

“it’s not—“ you pause, trying to word the sentence in your brain before you speak, not wanting to stumble as you try to explain yourself, black hair tickling parts of your face and neck, “— jealousy jealousy. i just wish i could be like that too. easy to be around, easy going and i don’t know, just not so awkward.”

“you aren’t that awkward, angel,” he wonders what is obvious in his gaze, the glittering hearts or the tinge of green at your enamourment of his best friend’s personality.

you turn your head to look up at him, only a few inches between you, always so eager to escape your feelings, not here, not now, “if you say so. do you wanna do shots?”

by your fourth shot, you’ve both found yourself at the bar stools, technically him on the stool and you in his lap. you’re close. so close that you can’t tell anymore if the tequila you smell is on his breath or yours, close enough that you can see the specks of black in his amber eyes, bees frozen in resin; letting him hold his glass at your lips and yours to his as you lick the salt off the rims before your arms tangle and you down your own shots, pushing your lemon wedges into each other to stabalise them in the air, biting to release the sour juice and feel your noses nuzzle.

“do you think you have the guts to ask now?” you giggle, throwing away your juice-less lemon wedge into the metal bowl with the rest.

he nods and you rest your hand on his chest, right over his sternum a he leans even closer. “well, sweetheart,” his voice is heavier, words slurring, breath hitching; your hand trailing up to stroke the contours of his collarbone, “i’ve been wonderin’ if that heart of your is still open. an’ if so, i wanna know what time it shuts.”

“for you or d’ya wanna set me up with one of your pretty friends?” you tease drunkenly, pretend biting his cheek, letting your nose nuzzle against his ear.

(i’m too busy being yours to fall for somebody new.)

you can feel him about to sigh and before you know it you’ve picked up another shot to down, searching for respite from his disappointment in the inhibition.

half an hour later you’re both delightfully drunk, snuggled together in a different booth, food in front of you as you giggle. shoko is by the bar, flirting with a woman while satoru is curled up in your old booth, covered up in her jacket. the ambiance has changed as the number of people decreased, softer music with softer lighting, a far cry from the shitty pop songs and the colourful disco lights only thirty minutes ago.

“tell me a secret,” you demand, carefully picking out the cheesiest nachos from the plate in front of you to eat.

(how many secrets can you keep?)

“a secret?” he confirms, swallowing the bite of corn dog in his mouth, adam’s apple moving. as his jaw clenches momentarily. “why?”

“just ‘cause. can’t i want to get to know you better?”

“fine,” he murmurs, a huff escaping his lips as he sits up and leans closer, pressing his lips against your helix. “i...” he exhales softly, “had a dream about you like once.”

(i’ve dreamt about you nearly every night this week.)

suguru feels a touch of worry when your eyes widen, “really?”

“really, angel. cause recently i’ve found this song that reminds me of you somehow and i play it on repeat, until i fall asleep. so how can i not dream of you when you’re all i can think of before i sleep?”

(and spill the drinks on my settee.)

“i mean, it makes sense—” that’s when he cuts himself off, realising that the emotion in your eyes isn’t shock, but wonder. wonder as you call his name, wonder as you tell him to shut up, and that wonder is mirrored in his own eyes as he hears your next words.

“i’m sorry to interrupt, i am, i just want to kiss you so bad. can i?”

and suguru wonders if this is a dream, resists the urge to slap himself in front of of you as he gulps and nods, a pathetic little ‘please’ tumbling out his lips.

he lets you maneuver his face to your liking, eyes fluttering shut at the tender hold your cold fingertips establish on his face, pulling him down as you reach up to press your lips to his. there isn’t much to the kiss, just your lips moving against his. but if he tilts his head closer, he can feel your eyelashes brush against his the skin under his eyes, the side of your nose bumping against his and he feels like his head could explode. a part of him, the same part that gently grasps your chin, desperately hopes that you feel the same. that your heart feels like it’s been flash frozen and then blasted with fire, like your brain has short circuited like his, each thought singing of you, you, you.

he lets the kiss go on your terms, willing to lose his oxygen, his life, to the feel of your lips. the electrons of your body vibrating in phase with his and it’s as if thought you can feel him and you hit the same note, reach the perfect harmony, against the chaotic hum of the universe. like twin stars orbiting each other, bound to deplete the other of their layers before exploding into supernovae.

you pull away with a soft gasp, eyes fluttering open as your fingers move of their own volition to tuck a lock of hair behind his ear.

“why do you always act like this at nights and never during the day?”

(he can’t find it in his heart to say, now i’ve thought it through, i’ll always be crawling back to you.)

you tilt your head at his sudden question; lips parted as you lick at them for the taste of him and salt and lemon juice, as you whisper in response, “because we’re different people at night, baby.”

(darling, we both know, that the nights are mainly made for saying things that you can’t say tomorrow day.)

you make sure shoko and satoru are securely situated in the cab, seat belts fastened and loudly discussing how shoko has shared her location with the both of you as satoru sleeps with his head against her shoulder. you bid her goodbye and shut the door, watching the taxi drive off and you’re once again left alone with suguru.

you let him wrap his arm around your shoulders, his soft, black hair tied in a ponytail flowing over his other shoulder as he walks you home.

(do i wanna know?)

he watches the streetlight shine on your face, shadows of wild hair dancing to your drunk shenanigans, letting you use him as your centre of gravity to stop you from falling. he’d let you use him however you wanted, he thinks, he only needed the word. but he smiles, watching you dance and skip around as he walked you home.

(if this feeling flows both ways.)

“do you, suguru geto, ever get a fear that you can’t let go of?”

(that you can’t shift, the type that sticks around like something in your teeth.)

“not that i can think of... why?”

(are there some aces up your sleeve?)

“no reason,” you shrug with feigned nonchalance.

(i’ve no idea that i’m in deep.)

he walks you the entire way to your apartment building, drunk rambling, flirting, yearning.

“do you ever think of callin’ me?” he asks, draping his jacket over your shoulders from his arm as he watches you shiver.

you give him a confused look which turns into a soft, breathy chuckle, breaths turning white as they condense from the cold air, “i call you almost everyday, silly.”

“no. when you’ve had a few.”

(cause i always do.)

“i don’t drink by myself, handsome. you always find your way to me when i’m drinking. i think you listen to my brain calls. so maybe?”

his lips form a little ‘o’ in realisation, cheeks turning pink. he rubs his cheek against your head like a cat scenting you but you pay no mind in your drunken state as you come to a stop at the entrance of your building.

he hates the sadness in your eyes as you look at him, the both of you separating as you move to stand facing him.

“it’s always sad to see you go,” you murmur softly, squeezing his fingers that are intertwined with yours, eyes weighed down by well earned sleep.

(i’m always hoping you can stay.)

“you can come see me or call me to see you whenever you want, baby,” he reminds lightly, a step closer, hands resting on your shoulders to fix the jacket on your frame.

“promise?”

you extend your little finger towards him and suguru smiles, a feeling of familiarity as he links his pinky with yours and presses a kiss to your head, “i promise, angel.”

(i don’t know if you feel the same as i do. but we could be together, if you wanted to.)

[taeaura]

The Over-Simplification of Thomas Hewitt

TW: Self-harm, Self-mutilation, Rape {only mentioned twice, and very brief}, Hoyt warning, TCM-Canon-Typical Violence

Thomas {Hewitt} is such a complex character that I feel is taken to such extremes - he's either oversimplified or outrageously radical. For example: The two most-common tropes I see for him {which I'm not demeaning, just critiquing} are A.) He's an extremely sadistic, unforgiving maniac who has no form of empathy or depth to him {this trope usually makes him a rapist, sex-fiend, or someone who uses sex as a way to resolve disagreements.} B.) An extremely-traumatized individual who can do no wrong, doesn't understand the weight of his actions, a consistently-scared man who's socially unaware of EVERYTHING, and just generally a character with no depth. {This trope ALSO usually portrays Thomas as a sex-fiend as well as someone who uses sex as a form of apology.} The truth is - Thomas is such a complex man; Not only in his character but truly in his nature {which I guess is another word for character but whtever.} YES; He is sadistic. YES; He's traumatized. Yes; He's socially unaware at times - But he's NEITHER of those extremes - at least not by default. I understand the first trope , considering he does appear that way to victims - especially Kemper and Bailey. That being said, he {in the mentality of Thomas} had "valid" reasons to target those two: Bailey referred to him as a "what" {"What is that?"} and Kemper barged into the house uninvited. Thomas knows Erin was invited, he was watching through the basement peephole. He knew Andy wasn't invited based off the way Monty treated him. Also - let's address an obvious-but-often-overlooked aspect of Thomas' "killing patterns": The men he kills - the masks he makes - the way he treats the "masks-to-be" all seem to hint at his potential jealously and envy. He tortured Eric by skinning his fuckin arms - he knocked Kemper out with a sledge hammer and presumably {implied by him picking up a chain of meat hooks} attaches him to a meat hook. Kemper's WAKING UP on a meat hook just to get killed and skinned. Thomas' forms of catharsis are destructive in nature - which seem to extend beyond his victims. In the unrated version of the film, during the "first supper" scene, as Thomas rests his arms against the head crest of the dining chair {this is the most popular GIF of him}, there's multiple scars around his arms - all which vary in size, depth, and location. Sure, these could be work-related accidents, which I'm sure some are, but some seem to be a form of self-harm as well. I wouldn't be surprised if the majority are self-inflicted; Considering Thomas has no other outlet of emotional regulation or consistent support system. To get into further detail, let's break down his prominent character traits individually:

Protective + Family Oriented {and Selfless}

It's very obvious that Thomas is protective, both of his things and his people. He's not possessive, at least not in my interpretation. His devotion to his family comes in selfless ways; Including sacrificing his own safety just to keep the family alive and well - Together. He refused to stop chasing Erin; Even after injuring his leg and losing his arm. He killed the slaughterhouse manager because he insulted his family; Insulting him and his family's hard work to survive. He lost not only his job and his purpose that day, but his family's main income. His selflessness often leads to him getting taken advantage of and overworked. For example; The family fully relies on him and Hoyt for their survival; Though mostly Thomas. Hoyt can do enough, sure, but if Thomas was gone, the whole family would go with him one way or another. I find he genuinely doesn't view himself "on their level." As in he's subservient to them. This post is essentially the essence Im hinting at. He focuses on his purpose - If that purpose isn't fulfilled, "I haven't done enough - I'm not trying hard enough - The family's not proud of me - They shouldn't be proud of me - ect."

Reserved / Distant

Thomas is very reserved which is very obviously a defense mechanism developed in early childhood. He's distant not only because of his trauma, but his personality as well. I've always interpreted him as a natural introvert - which would've been amplified if he so happens to be autistic. Of course, not all autistic individuals are introverted, I just figured because of his predisposed characteristics. Thomas prefers to observe rather to interact; Almost acting as a shadow amongst concrete - Or a fly upon the wall: Watching every movement and discerning every sound. I talk more about this in a previous post.

Cautious {and Selective}

Adding on to the previous segment, Thomas is very cautious {and selective} with the people he surrounds himself with. Strangers? Absolutely not - unless it's obligatory. His family? Yes. I think this traces back to his trauma and social anxiety; His speech impediment makes it excruciatingly difficult to socialize, further isolating himself and his family from 'evil outside' civilizations. Hoyt's consistent hatred for 'hippy' city-slingers and the family's already-biased ignorant and overly-traditional values make Thomas' social pool a drying puddle.

Judgmental, Envious, {and Violent}

To add onto Hoyt's hatred for city-slinging, draft-dodging, hippy protesters; This hate definitely rubs off on Thomas. He's judgmental - both for survival and out of envy. His momma's "Christian teachings" about how full of sin the world is surely don't help the judgment issues. It's a calamitous cycle which gets worse with each year they spend in solitude. Their fear of society - fear of judgment - keeps them hidden from the rest of the world: Abandoned by the government as they're forced to fend for themselves. Forced to lay low within the shadows so they can remain together, as opposed to rotting in separate jail cells. In a way, it's their own "solitary confinement." Solitary confinement can cause an increase in violence / violent tendencies - Which is no surprise in the case of the Hewitt family. According to the National Alliance on Mental Illness,

"Those with mental illness are overrepresented in solitary confinement, despite the vulnerability and threats to the mental health of those incarcerated. Research shows that the effects of solitary confinement on mental health are often fatal, both during and after incarceration. Half of all suicides in prisons and jails occur in solitary confinement. A recent study shows the long-lasting effects; that any amount of time spent in solitary increases the risk of death in the first year after release. Individuals were overall 24% more likely to die in the first year after release, including from suicide (78% more likely) and homicide (54% more likely). They were also 127% more likely to die of an opioid overdose in the first two weeks after release."

How does this relate to judgment and envy? I'll tell you:

Thomas is so conspicuously envious - We can see it in every scene with Eric. When he beats the shit out of Eric whilst caressing his face in admiration - Only to calculatingly caress his own in desperation. The way he gasps once he sees Kemper's wedding ring {for Erin} - Only to follow it up with wearing his face to visit her?? His envy comes out as judgment; His anxiety comes out as judgment. His judgment comes out as violence. It's a continuous cycle which he's learned over time from multiple sources.

Creative, Appreciative, Resourceful

Do I even have to explain this one? Nah I'm kidding.

Thomas is a creative and skilled individual who knows taxidermy, sewing, patchwork, leather-working/smith, all that jazz. It's not only a form of catharsis, but a form of hiding himself from the world. He takes pieces of what he finds beautiful, stitches them together, and presents himself as that "collection" of beauty. It's his way to turning himself "beautiful." This leads me to believe he finds beauty in the smallest things. A decaying carcass? A new mask. Withered and rusting jewelry? A new accessory. Left-behind tools? His tools now. He takes care of the things he loves, and loves to take care of what's been forgotten. He's appreciative of small things; Especially considering the Hewitt family didn't {and still doesn't} have much but themselves and their old farm. He notices the small things. The usually insignificant, under-appreciated, forgotten things. Maybe it's out of necessity; Maybe it's because he feels he's one of those things - Just not one deserving of the same grace.

Reliant {and Independant}

Notice how the family always calls for Thomas? They call multiple times, sure, but that seems to be more out of annoyance than worry. They know Thomas will get the job done - He always does - and he does it damn well. He works hard; He was quite literally one of the slaughterhouse's hardest workers. He worked 'till he was forced out of there. Thomas is stubborn, sure, but it helps get his work done. And - it keeps him safe.

Besides meal-prep, housing, cleaning, and transport, Thomas is very independent. He can hunt forage his own food; Protect himself and others; Make his own clothes; Hell, he'd learn how to cook and clean if he needed to. He doesn't really need transport - at least not in his mind. He's content - He'll make do with what he has. It's like the quote from 'Pearl' "One day you will understand that getting what you have isn't what's important - Making the most of what you have is."

___

Apologies for this being relatively short compared to my other previous analyses; My brain's been kinda foggy recently but we're recovering!

Tommy my beloved socially awkward {autistic} Texan🫀

[moons-and-mobility-aids]

Marry Me

Pairings: Poly!marauders x disabled!reader Summary: Sirius talks in his sleep while using you as a pillow. Warnings: N/A, maybe slight jealousy Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2

The soft glow from the wall sconces casts a warm light across your bedroom, a stark contrast to the chilling wind that howls outside the castle walls. It's well past curfew now, and you're tucked safely beneath your blankets, the room filled with the comforting presence of those closest to you.

Sirius lies beside you, his body heat a welcome reprieve. His body is a heavy weight on top of you, grounding you in this moment as his breath ghosts over your skin. He sleeps soundly, or at least appears to, the gentle rise and fall of his chest a rhythmic lullaby that soothes your racing thoughts.

On your other side, James stirs slightly, a small grunt escaping him as he adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose. His eyes are half-closed, not quite asleep but not fully awake either, caught somewhere between the realms of consciousness and dreams.

Remus sits propped against the headboard, a worn book resting open on his lap. He's been pretending to read for the past twenty minutes, but you know better. His gaze keeps flickering towards Sirius, who sprawls out across the mattress, somehow managing to take up more space than seems physically possible.

Despite his typically boisterous nature when awake, Sirius is a picture of tranquillity when asleep. His features soften, all bravado and bluster melting away to reveal the boy who exists beneath the layers of bravura. But even in sleep, there are some things Sirius Black can't hide.

"Gonna marry you," he mumbles, his words slurring together in the haze of sleep. His arm tightens around you instinctively, pulling you closer until there's no space left to claim. He burrows his face into your neck, his lips brushing against your collarbone as he repeats the vow like a mantra. "Marry you."

Your eyes blink open, the surprise momentarily stealing your breath away. A small smile tugs at the corners of your mouth; it's almost comical, really. Here he is, fast asleep, yet somehow managing to propose—or at least, that's what it sounds like—while clinging to you like a lifeline.

"Is that so?" James murmurs, having cracked open an eye at the sound of Sirius's muffled declaration. His voice is soft with amusement, eyebrow arched in a silent question. "Proposing in your sleep now, are you, Pads?"

A quiet snort escapes your lips, causing Sirius to stir slightly but not wake. "Seems like it," you whisper back, turning your head just enough to meet James's gaze. There's a glint of something in his eyes—amusement, certainly, but also something else, something he'd likely never admit to: a hint of envy.

Remus is less subtle in his response.

The rustle of pages signals the closing of his book before he grumbles, “When he used me as a pillow, I never got a marriage proposal.” His tone is dry, but there's a playful undercurrent that betrays his jest. His fingers tap against the hardcover in mock irritation.

One eyebrow quirks at him, a laugh threatening to bubble up and disturb Sirius. “Jealous much, Rem?”

His eyes narrow just a fraction at your tease, then he sighs, sinking further into the plush pillows. “Perhaps a bit,” he concedes with a wan smile. “Two years of him using me as a pillow, and not a single sleep-proposal. You’ve been with us for three months, and he’s already mumbling about marriage.”

Laughter rumbles in James's chest beside you, though his fingers still trace absent patterns on the back of your hand—a silent admission that Sirius's words have affected him too. "In fairness," he murmurs, more to Remus than to you, "he never proposed to me either." A pause. "Sirius Black—romantic, but selective, it seems."

Your eyes roll skyward, the barest hint of a smile playing on your lips despite the absurdity of their banter. "You lot are insufferable," you retort, fighting the urge to grin. "And for the record, he's asleep. It doesn't count."

"Does so," James retorts, a glint of mischief dancing in his hazel eyes. "He's never said it to either of us, asleep or awake."

"Exactly," Remus chimes in, arms folding across his chest as if to cement his agreement. The corners of his mouth lift into the ghost of a smile, belying the stern facade he tries to maintain. "Besides, I’ve let him drool on me more times than I care to admit. That’s got to be worth at least one proposal."

A soft laugh escapes you, more of a breath than a sound, as you glance down at Sirius. He's nestled even closer to you in his sleep, the rise and fall of your chest lulling him deeper into slumber. His hair tickles your chin, midnight strands splayed across your collarbone, and he looks so peaceful—so content—oblivious to the havoc he's unwittingly wrought.

"Perhaps I should wake him," you murmur, voice barely above a whisper, "tell him he's just proposed by accident."

The idea brings a smile to your lips, though a pang of guilt accompanies it. It seems cruel to disturb him when he's finally found some semblance of peace.

Remus lets out a long sigh, running his fingers through his tousled hair before resting his head back against the headboard. His gaze is fixed on Sirius, watching every telltale sign of sleep with an attention that speaks volumes about their bond. "Don't bother," he says, his voice a low rumble, almost lost amidst the crackling fire and soft snores. "He'll either deny it outright or claim he was dreaming about someone else."

Despite the casual dismissal, there's a hint of fondness etched into Remus's features—a testament to the depth of his affection for the man sleeping soundly between them.

James chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief. "No, he wouldn't deny it..." His words trail off, leaving an unspoken thought hanging in the air. James lifts your joined hands from beneath the blanket, cradling them in his lap as if they were something precious. He turns to you, emerald eyes reflecting the flickering flames, and gives your fingers a gentle squeeze. "But we do need to remind him when he wakes up. Just to see him squirm."

A chuckle spills from your lips, already imagining the way Sirius's face will flush when you confront him. He'll deny it, of course, but there will be that telltale blush, that sheepish grin—signs that he knows he's a little too transparent for his own good.

Sirius stirs beside you, his body instinctively seeking your warmth as he pulls you closer. His breath fans against your skin, carrying with it the softest whisper of words, barely audible above the steady rhythm of his heart. "Love you," he murmurs into the darkness.

Your chest tightens, and you press a kiss to his forehead, answering with a silent promise of your own. James and Remus stir on the other side of the room, their eyes meeting yours in the dim light. They've heard it too, the quiet confession that speaks volumes about the man they've come to regard as a brother.

Neither of them says anything, but there's an unspoken understanding that passes between you all. Sirius Black may wear the mask of a troublemaker, but beneath the bravado lies a heart that loves fiercely, wholly, without reservation.

And even though Sirius has yet to propose marriage to them in his sleep—or awake, for that matter—you know without a shadow of a doubt that his love for them is just as deep and unwavering as the love he holds for you.

"Seems we'll have to share, then," you murmur, your voice a soft balm in the chilly night.

Remus huffs out a quiet laugh, the tension finally draining from his shoulders as he settles down beside you. "Suppose so."

James plants a brief kiss to your temple before lying back down, his glasses askew on his nose. "Looks that way, doesn't it?"

With Sirius still slumbering against you and the other two boys nestled close, their shared warmth is a tangible shield against the world outside. The snow might be falling thick and fast beyond the tower windows, but here, cocooned within their protective circle, you feel warmer than any fire could provide.

Perhaps Sirius was onto something, after all.

[undiscovered-horizon]

[Old love never rusts. Mihawk has to face that truth when he meets again the husband of the girl he almost had.]

Mihawk's version | Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi | Have a request?

Mihawk wants the entire conversation to end before it has even started. He's aware that his heartache and anger are bound to get the better of him. Not to mention Shanks, who will surely gloat and boast beyond tastefulness. Although Mihawk can't exactly blame Shanks for his pride - the Warlord knows that he'd behave identically, if not worse, were their roles reversed.

Shanks knows what's on Mihawk's mind. he can read it on his face, in the sombre gloom that clouds his yellow eyes. Still, the red-haired captain patiently waits for the swordsman to break on his own. It will happen soon enough as the matter of you is the only subject that rids Mihawk of his self-control. He may be a great man, in more ways than one but when it comes to the insatiable love seems unable to let go, the Warlord becomes a young boy at heart, always seeking assurance that his affections are returned. Or not outright rejected, at least. Alas, the consequences of his own selfish actions have finally caught up to him and Mihawk must face the truth - this love is never going to be returned.

"How is she?" Mihawk asks reluctantly. He hates to give Shanks the satisfaction but the famished desire of his heart is a lot stronger than his iron will and pride. "You know of whom I speak."

Shanks gives him a mocking smile, a devilish flame appearing in his brown eyes.

"I also know you have no right to ask that, hawk-eyes," he answers. "Not when you treated her like a backup option."

"I never-" Mihawk hangs his voice. He takes a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself. Agitated negation will only further prove the captain's point. Truth be told, deep inside Mihawk knows that Shanks is right. He did treat as someone who would always be there, waiting for him until he came back from his escapades. Until you grew tired; until you didn't. "Where is she?" he asks angrily. But what he really wants to ask is 'If you're here, who's taking care of her? Who's looking after the one you promised to keep safe and happy?'

"Home with the kids," Shanks retorts casually. Despite his light-hearted tone, there's a hint of something mischievous between his words.

Mihawk feels disgusted. The thought that Shanks got to know you intimately and built a familial life with you fills him with rage so visceral he'd rather claw his own eyes out than think about it. And that red-haired poor excuse of a husband probably considers himself good enough for you.

Laughable, if it wasn't so sad.

"I suppose I should wish you well," Mihawk begrudgingly murmurs. Once again, his words do not quite reflect his actual thoughts. He wishes you well but couldn't care less about Shanks's well-being. Mihawk already knows for a fact that the red-haired captain is incapable of taking care of you properly so it would really be mercy if Shanks had a little accident and Dracule could play the magnificent role of a consoling party.

"You should." Shanks nods. "But I know you won't." He lets out a bitter chuckle. He's disillusioned about Mihawk's perpetual heartbreak. Some part of him still pities the Warlord. After all, how awful must be the torment that can haunt someone like him for a good decade?

"Yes, I won't," Dracule drones his words. There is jealousy, there is envy and then there is the horrible sensation that has been eating him up for the past ten years, slowly turning the man into a bitter, brutal husk of a person. And he shall never find it in him to wish Shanks well after he had shamelessly taken the person the closest to his heart.

Turning on his heel, Mihawk marches away from Shanks. He knows that if he spends another minute around the red-haired man, he will do something he might regret.

He could be a mighty Warlord, the greatest swordsman alive and, perhaps ever - truly a someone. Alas, as a wise man once said: You're nobody until somebody loves you. And everyday of his life, each time he wakes up to a cold bed and a house drowned in deafening silence, Mihawk is reminded that he is less than nobody. For it was his own grandiosity that had ridded him of the person he cares about the most.

Dracule's gnawing loneliness is accompanied only by his own thoughts, only by the rumination of his utmost failure. 'It didn't have to be like this', he reminds himself on the nights when he can't fall asleep, 'You could have had everything'.

[auraisereigh]

"Regal"

chapter sixteen

Brennan Sorrengail x Riorson reader Blurb: Star prepares herself for her first meeting. wc: 8.1 ☆ SPOILERS FOR THE EMPYREAN SERIES. Uses pronouns: she/her. i use Star as a nickname as y/n sounds weird, and i'm awful with names.

Masterlist ☆ Dragon guide ☆ Star's story ☆ Empyrean guide ☆ Support me

It's not the flight that unsettled me. It's the fact that his dragon seems to take joy in my discomfort. Like I'm some clown in a circus.

Why does every dragon make fun of me?

"Are you okay?" I hear Brennan's soft voice behind me from where I'm sitting on the grass. "Yeah, just... Dragons seem to like making fun of me lately." My voice is sarcastic as I continue to slice my apple with a small dagger.

He chuckles softly and sits down next to me. "Seems like it. It's better that they make fun of you than that they eat you." He leans his head closer and a smile makes its way up to my face but I can't help but wonder if he can see the flush that has risen to my cheeks.

☆

I'm reminded all too well of bitter memories as we walk through the gorgeous halls. Viscount Tecarus Palace had always been beautiful, defenseless, sure, but beautiful. I've always envied Poromiel for that. They kept their culture, their art and what makes them unique.

I walk in between Felix and Brennan as we're being led by some gryphon fliers through the enormous halls. The last time I was here everything was still good, I was happy.

"Don't you need to wear a crown, princess?" I hear a familiar, deep, dark voice call out. I feel his presence behind me just as I've always had.

All three of us stop in our tracks. Felix and Brennan are a little further ahead.

I turn around and face Drake.

Drake Cordella.

"I'm not crowned yet." I say my voice comes out sharp yet there is a hint of sweetness.

I never had anything against Drake, he was polite, had a sharp tongue when he wanted to but I liked that. And he's not the serpent that is his cousin. We shared a bond based on mutual respect but also on competition. We were always striving to be better than the other.

I'm gonna assume that started after my father rejected Viscount Tecarus proposition to start a betrothal between Drake and I but if that was the reason he'd never tell me. If anything, we had never spoken about it.

"One day you will wear a crown." He states as he walks closer to where I'm standing. "Whether it's Tyrrendor's crown or Navarre depends on how much you want vengeance." His words catch me off guard for a split second. I had never thought about taking Navarre's crown. I didn't want a crown from a kingdom who lie to their own people, who refuse to stop weaving the blindfold to keep their people in the dark.

Does it intrigue me now? Taking a crown and removing the blindfold for everyone, so the people can see the truth their leadership has hidden them from?

Maybe.

I shake myself out of my thoughts. "I only have interest in what's best for my people. It's the reason why I'm here." I say smoothly. The sweetness dripping from my voice, showing him I have no interest in his games. It will only end up somewhere else. Places I rather not come anymore.

Like his bed. I shiver at the thought. Regrets are truly a bitch.

"Then shall we start this meeting?" I hear Tecarus voice from the other side and I turn my head to see him standing in the doorway that leads to the enormous dining room. "I believe it was quite urgent, was it?" I refrain from rolling my eyes at him, instead I look at Brennan, who's focused on Tecarus too. I walk to him, standing back in the middle of our little trio. "Viscount Tecarus. It's a pleasure to finally meet you." Felix says and i roll my eyes at last. "The same goes for you, Felix Gerault. Miss Riorson spoke highly of you." He flashes his perfectly white teeth my way.

Sure, Felix is a great asset but I hadn't spoken all that much about Felix so Tecarus is just overexariating. Though I can't help but feel a wave of gratitude go through me that Felix actually joined me on this trip, it helped sooth my nerves.

"My dear," Tecarus motions at me with his hand. "Perhaps you and your company should change into more formal clothes." His voice sounds like he's offering but I know he isn't.

"We don't need to change." Brennan simply States and I wince as I look away from Tecarus. "Perhaps Miss Riorson should explain to you the rules of my meetings...oh my apologies, I'm afraid I don't know your name? Our dear never mentioned a third person to accompany." I can feel Tecarus sharp eyes on me. "It was a last minute decision." I sigh as a headache starts forming.

Tecarus gives me an acknowledging look. "Your name?" He asks again as he turns back to Brennan.

"Brennan, sir." He responds curtly. Tecarus tilts his head, I inspecting Brennan from head to toe and my heart beats out of fear. If he says that he's a Sorrengail then he's dead.

"Brennan...?" Tecarus inquires and I became more nervous with the second. I can see Brennan's hand fidget behind his back. He knows it too. If he speaks he's dead.

"Brennan Aisereigh." I speak up. "He comes from the family Aisereigh. He recently joined at Riorson house to help with strategies. It's his strong suit." I explain with a small smile, trying to appear as normal as possible, as confident as I can.

"Aisereigh?" Tecarus asks with a look that says he's thinking. "That's Tyrrish, is it not?" He looks between the both of us. "Yes." I smile. "Translated it means resurrected."

Brennan turns his head towards me, his eyes slightly widen and I give him a soft smile. Reassuring him.

"Very well. Drake will bring you all to your rooms." Tecarus announces and I rip my gaze from Brennan.

We start walking and I walk closer to Brennan, my arms grazing his as we follow Drake to our rooms.

Once we arrive I wait for Drake to leave and Felix to go his room, leaving Brennan and I alone.

Without saying anything I grab Brennan's hand and pull him gently in my room. I let go of his hand once inside and close the door and lean my back against it.

"Don't ever tell anyone you're a Sorrengail. They'll kill you." I whisper but the sound is clear in the empty room. A room that hasn't been used for at least two years.

"I won't." He answers. "Thank you. For out there, I didn't know what to say." He looks me straight in the eye as he says that and I can't help but be mesmerized by his amber eyes. I feel my heart beat faster but my nerves calm down. I blink and look away. "We should get dressed." I say quiet as I make my way to my old wardrobe. I can feel him follow behind me as I open the giant closet with various dresses, in many different colors and shades. All types of shapes and designs.

"So, you do have a crown?" He asks amused and I can't stop the smile that appears on my face. I don't answer him, instead I take my bag and open it, taking out a velvet bag. I open it and pull out a black crown with red stones. Dad had it made for me when it became official I would be the heir to Aretia. I had small input in the design, it were the colors I chose and the stones but still it looked gorgeous.

He whistles amusingly and I hand the crown to him. It doesn't feel special, not anymore. It doesn't even feel like I still have a throne.

"So your favorite color is red I take it?" He asks as he looks at the crown. "Yes, I suppose it has something to do with the fact that my magic is red." I simply reply as I turn back to the wardrobe.

☆

About twenty minutes later I'm almost complete dressed and finished. A servent had come by to give Brennan something to wear.

I look into the mirror, to the black dress I chose. It's a soft material with a heart shape neck line that follows my curves to my waist and from there on it flows freely. The build in corset has red strings attached to it. I slowly work my way down the corset behind my back, my arms exhausted with the effort. I'm almost all the way down when I hear his voice. "Do you want some help?" He asks as he appears in the mirror and I'm caught off guard by how good he looks, the suit they gave him looks like it was made for him, it's pitch black but somehow it's different from his leathers. He looks...handsome. truly, utterly handsome.

"Yes, please." I whisper and my hands claps together in front of me as his hands start on the strings, pulling them so it's tight but breathable. He makes quick work of tying the ends into knots. "Is it good? Too tight?" His voice comes out caring. "It's good. Thank you." I whisper again. Despite that this trip was mainly my idea, I had no clue how I was supposed to do this. I've never done it alone, I always had dad with me. Even if I have faith that Tecarus won't drop me it's still nerve wracking.

"You're gonna be okay." He whispers. "It doesn't feel right." I answer immediately. "Dad should be here, or my brother. I've never done this alone." I admit.

"You're not alone. I'm here. And so is Felix." His hand wraps around my wrist and he pulls me away from the mirror to face him. It's then that I see it. My crown.

He holds it with great care. While I had pushed the crown on top of all my things in a too small bag.

With his other hand he pushes some hair strands out of my face before he places the crown on top of my head. Ensuring it's secure.

"You look regal." His words catch me off guard. It's the way he says it, like he means it out of the depths of his heart. "Is it princess I should call you or duchess?" He asks as he braids a small pieces of hair and wraps it around the crown to ensure it stays in place.

"I'm not sure...everyone calls me princess but that's for someone who would become queen and Tyrrendor is not independent so I would become duchess if I were to be crowned." I explain with a frown. It was a good question, one I should probably discuss with the assembly.

"Is it okay if I call you princess?" My heart beats harder again. "You can call me Star too, whichever you prefer." He looks at me and stops mid braid. "I didn't want to come over heartless. I know it's what Naolin called you." He says as he continues the braid and wraps it around the crown bade just like the other side. "But it does fit you. You bring light when it feels like there is only darkness, even if you don't see it yourself." He holds his arm out for me to take.

I hook my arm in his and hold close as we walk to our door. Felix is already waiting on the other side and he grins when he sees us together but I don't let go of his arm.

"Shall we?" Felix asks and we both nod. Felix walks in front of us while Brennan and i follow behind.

Once I see the dinning room my tracks slow, my nerves kicking in and Brennan senses it too.

"Show them how regal you are, princess" Brennan speaks in Tyrrish as his hand moves to my lower back and pushes me forward.

"Perhaps I'll give you a small surprise later." He winks at me.

And a blush spreads across my face. One I can't hide and he knows it to if his grin is any indication.

He gives me one last soft look before he opens the door for me. "Go one little Star."

☆

Taglist: @honethatty12 @smashee0789 @awkardnerd @randomperson1234sblog @bangtanxberm @hyperactive-bookworm-0 @littowl @thebreadisthetruevillian @bwormie

[kykyonthemoon]

7 Days the mini-series

About this series: ✈️

Day 06: My Defender

Immediately after receiving the message, I hurried to the headmaster's office. There, I found Caleb waiting on one of the seats outside. His white uniform was covered in mud, he had bruises all over his body, one side of his face was slightly swollen, and there was a bleeding wound at the corner of his mouth.

"Caleb? What happened to you?"

I sat down beside him and held his hand timidly out of fear of hurting him. Caleb didn't look at me and turned his face away.

"Caleb?" I pulled his hand, still he refused to look at me. So I wrapped him in my arms. "It hurts, doesn't it?"

Caleb sat still and let me hold him for a while longer. Even though he didn’t respond, I could guess what had happened on the way here. I overheard the other students gossiping that there had been a fight between Caleb and another fifth grader, I just didn’t know why.

After a while, Caleb seemed to calm down, he took my hand off and started talking:

“I’m fine. Gran is talking to the headmaster inside.”

“Why didn’t you go to the nurse’s office?”

“I’m all right.”

He responded, even waved his arms and legs to let me know that, unlike the other children who were crying and running into the nurse's office, he was still fine. But I just frowned at him.

“What happened?” I asked. Caleb had never caused trouble at school. He had always been a good student, a well-liked boy by both teachers and his peers. His energy was all for sports and extracurricular activities. I never imagined seeing him in a situation like this.

Caleb didn’t want to tell me, but after some pleading, he finally spoke: 

“They were talking bad about you.”

“Huh?” I was stunned. Caleb simply explained that not everyone in school liked me. They made up stories and said negative things about me out of envy. Those words reached Caleb and turned him enraged. As a result, he gave them all a short trip to the nurse's office.

After hearing this, I gently gripped his hand. The sight of him using Evol to hang a few kids on a tree must have been hilarious. I was very grateful that he was so protective of me. However, I wasn't planning to be the cause of his troubles.

“I don’t care what they think of me,” I said. “Because they’re not important to me. I only care what Caleb thinks of me…”

“You are the most wonderful person in my eyes!” Caleb replied without a thought. “If anyone dares to say anything bad about you, I’ll put them up the tree again—Ouch…”

Caleb grimaced and gently massaged the wound on his face. I pulled his hand away, saying, “When I fall or get hurt, you always blow on my wound, right?” I puffed out my cheeks and blew gently on the wound on Caleb’s face. HDespite being a little taken aback, he obediently sat still. “After that…”

I leaned a bit closer to him and delicately kissed his injured cheek, just like he had kissed the cut on my palm when I was careless before.

“This is a blessing of speedy recovery for you…”

*

* *

Opening the headmaster’s office door, I saw the kid sitting alone outside. One of his cheekbones was swollen, his clothes were untidy and covered in mud. He peered up at me with determination and a hint of guilt.

“Am I in trouble, Mom?”

In that child, I saw the imprints of the boy who had been by my side many years ago.

“Of course you are. Violence is not the way to solve problems. I've taught you better than that."

The child dropped his head, disappointed. My severe expression eased, and I softly ruffled his hair. "You also need to know that it was the right thing to do to stand up for your friend."

He glanced up at me with a cheerful expression. I added, “However, next time, remember to use your brain, not your brawn. You're just like your father.”

The child smiled and grasped my hand tightly. On the way home, an airship sailed overhead from Skyhaven. The little boy waved up and said:

“I think Dad will be home soon!”

“Let’s hurry then. How about we throw him a lovely welcome back party at home?"

[animeyanderelover]

This is my first request so here we go! Can I get head cannons on what it’d be like to be in an OT3 relationship with both Shigure AND Akito in Fruits Basket? Like, how they met, how they established a relationship and how the tumultuous relationship evolved during the course of the anime’s plot? I know it’s gonna be SOO toxic, especially with the crap Shigure pulls, Akito being Akito, and the constant back and forth between the two, being the middle piece in their game is gonna be such a pain emotionally, physically, psychologically, any way you can think of. Also the s/o is gender neutral.

There have been some changes to the original plot of the manga to adjust this storyline better. Also, this is quite toxic but that should come to no surprise. I'm also obviously not going to remember some of the stuff that happened in the Anime so this is a shortened version.

Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional thoughts, clinginess, paranoia, jealousy, abuse, manipulation, guilt-tripping, gaslighting, isolation, threats, violence, sexual exploitation, hinted non-con

Tags: @flaming-vulpix

Falling in love with the same darling

🐕​⚫​From a very young age on, you have been working as a maid in the Sohma estate with your main tasks always involving catering to Akito's needs. Akira assigned you specifically for this job as you were only 2 years older than her and he wanted her to have someone around her age to befriend. Even years later you remember how you were brought to Akira and Akito, the little girl hiding behind her father's back as you walked in. Akira had been a gentle and kind but also terribly gullible man from the few memories that you have but his love for Akito had been there, even if perhaps a tad bit misguided as she was the God of the family. He beckoned Akito to step forward as he introduced you to her, telling her that from this day on you would be her new friend. You were too young back then to understand everything, otherwise you would have stopped him as he told Akito that you'd always stay with her. When the little girl, although back then you thought she was a boy, asked you with big eyes if what her father had just said was true, you didn't think about it. You only nodded enthusiastically and even if she had still seemed a tad bit apprehensive, you saw the hopeful gleam in her eyes.

🐕​⚫​Soon after being assigned to Akito who quickly latched on to you, you met Shigure. He has always been rather weird, even when he was still young. Both of you did not get along well initially, although that was mainly his fault. His feelings for Akito had already blossomed back then and her clear attachment to you elicited jealousy. Back then you had still harbored the mindset that it was your job to be Akito's best friend so you had also felt a childish envy as you saw how close both of them were. You had always been whenever Akito asked any of the Zodiac signs who had already been around at that time for any affection and you'd only realise years later why she had always done that. You had felt entitled of her and her friendship, threatened in your position and in return you grew clingy and tried everything to please her, openly expressing your jealousy. Your behavior was like fuel to flames as she desperately absorbed every affection you gave her and clung as a result only tighter to you. Her father was immensely pleased by this development, ignoring how unhealthy it already was back then and only told Akito that even those who weren't Zodiac signs would love her.

🐕​⚫​The rift between Shigure and you only grew as time passed by, both of you fighting for Akito's attention and love. And it made Akito happy. In fact whenever the words of her mother would get to her, she knew that she always had the both of you and in her growing desperation sometimes she even caused such arguments between the two of you on purpose simply to watch and realise that her mother was wrong. She was loved, even from those who were not part of the Zodiacs and sometimes she couldn't help but have the two of you argue in front of her mother as she gave her a defiant glare to show her that she was wrong. You remember the boiling jealousy when one day Akito showed you proudly the camellia that Shigure had fetched her and told you how he had confessed his love to her, her dark eyes staring at you as she wanted, needed, to see your reaction to it all. You were miffed the entire day about it and the very next moment you returned with a bouquet of flowers yourself and made sure to wait until Shigure was accompanying both of you before you handed all of the flowers to her and promised to always stay by her side. You sealed your fate on that day.

🐕​⚫​When Akira passed away due to his illness, you were there with Akito in his last moments. You weren't supposed to but Akito had demanded you to be there with her, her hand clutching yours tightly. It had made her father happy too to see both of you being so attached to each other and in his last moments he had made you promise that you'd always stay with his child and had reminded Akito one last time of her special existence that would make everyone love her. You'd been her shoulder to cry on when both of you were left alone, the tears only falling when she was only in your company. She had clutched the material of your yukata as she had begged you to not leave her like her father had just done and you had promised her once again that you would stay with her until the very end. Then Ren stormed in, furious that she hadn't been informed of Akira's death and had lashed out at Akito, screaming that she was unwanted and that everyone would leave her eventually. You can still clearly remember how you yelled back at her mother and insulted her, only fueling her hysteria. You still remember how your teeth sank into the flesh of her hand when she struck you, refusing to let go.

🐕​⚫​There were screams, the ones of ther maids but above all Akito's own hysterical screams all of a sudden when Ren tried to hurt you and you only scratched and bit her more until you could taste blood whilst your own nose was weeping with your own. It took more than a handful of other maids to separate the two of you as Ren was escorted away, still cursing at you. Akito was in that moment instantly by your side, crying and yelling as she screamed at the other maids to cater to your injuries even whilst you reassured her that you were fine. You were adviced to stay in bed for the rest of the day and Akito refused to leave your side the entire time. She sat there with you, ate her meals with you and even drew and played board games with you. You ended up with scratches all over your arms and your face, bruises and swollen lips from Ren but it made you almost proud when you heard that you had done some damage on her too. You found Akito often staring at your face, more often than she had done before, and when you asked her if she was sad about your injuries, she said something that caught you off-guard. That she felt happy. Happy because you had gotten so aggressive and hurt for her.

🐕​⚫​Her mind had been made up forever after that. She only focused on you from that day on. Whilst she was still possessive of other Zodiac signs, they became a second priority as you were from that day on her main focus. You were always kept by her side for the entire day and she even demanded you to sleep in the same room as her. Seldom did you see her mother but when you did, Akito almost appeared to show you off, even if her grip on you tightened. Ren could only glare at you silently as the physical wounds may have healed with time but her ego had been forever damaged by you. One time she approached you with a dangerous glimmer in her eyes but Akito was the one who stopped her this time. It was the first time that you really noticed how damaged Akito had become as she threatened her own mother and gloated gleefully in front of her how she had been wrong and that you loved her even whilst not being a Zodiac member as she pulled you closer to her side. Even when Shigure came over, her focus was always on you and whilst the smile on his face always stayed, you could tell from his eyes just how much you started grating his nerves.

🐕​⚫​Akito deemed you to be the person most important to her and that was something that didn't sit right with the young man. He wanted Akito for himself but you were in the way. He needed you to betray her and break her heart. If he could make Akito hate you, he could take your place. In hindsight it was truly frightening just how far Shigure had always been willing to go for Akito but you had luckily always been rather wary of him. So when he suddenly tried to befriend you, you were cautious and careful. He needed to find some weak link he could abuse, something to turn Akito against you. Unfortunately that was hard as Akito had been all you had known your life and vice versa. But perhaps that was how he could approach it. You had rarely left the Sohma estate, never had been friends with other people. Weren't you curious though? Slowly he tried to put ideas in her head, trying to fuel your curiosity to get you away from Akito. And it worked. You had grown a bit older though and even if you still treasured Akito, a feeling of loneliness had gotten to you as your freedom had been restricted to only revolve around her. When Yuki was introduced to Akito, he saw finally a good chance.

🐕​⚫​As Akito got to know Yuki better, he tempted you to go outside and leave her side more often. Shigure convinced you to even leave the estate with him as he introduced you to new people and encouraged you to get to know them better. It was strange yet also exciting to meet other children in your age range who weren't Akito and you befriended them rather quickly. You even told Akito about them excitedly, oblivious to the way she fidgeted with her fingers and bawled her hands into fists as your joy was like a stab to her heart. You wanted her to meet them yet the moment those words left your lips, she rejected your offer harshly. Upon noticing your startled expression, she quickly added that it wouldn't be wise for her to leave the Sohma estate. Her heart grew sick though as she finally learned why you hadn't spent as much time with her as you used to and when she approached Shigure in search for comfort, he used her growing heartbreak as he told her that he had seen how happy you were with your new friends. She cried in his arms, wondering what had happened as you had always been so close with her. You loved her. You had to love her.

🐕​⚫​Torments from her mother increased when she asked Akito where you were whenever she saw her, her taunts only serving to slowly break Akito further. Her temper got considerably worse and Yuki, the one who spent most time with her as she tried to take you off of her mind, got the worst of it even when she apologised afterwards to him. A part of Akito wanted to tell you desperately about it yet she didn't because she wanted you to figure it out yourself. You knew her best afterwards. So why didn't you notice how she felt? When Kureno's curse suddenly broke and Akito lost a bond that defined her existence, she was finally pushed over the edge. She feared that everyone's curse would break and that you, the one who wasn't bound to her in any way, would be the first one to leave. Shigure's own words only poisoned her young mind further. The next time she saw you, she dragged you to her room with a surprisingly tight grip on your wrist and forced you to stay there with her. There she then broke, yelling and sobbing as she grabbed your face and forced you to look at her. You had betrayed her! You had broken your promise! You promised to always stay by her side!

🐕​⚫​Never again were you allowed to go outside again after that. Akito has kept you by her side ever since that day as Shigure's plan only backfired as she has grown incredibly possessive of you. The other Zodiac signs are the only people you still see sometimes, although Akito makes sure to even reduce the contact you have with them. The bitterness of you having dared to make other friends when you always had her has festered inside of her and has never allowed her to let you get close to others. Kureno and Shigure are the ones you tend to see the most, although even then you are never left alone by her. There has been tension between Shigure and Akito for a while now too though and that is mainly because you have told her that it was Shigure who introduced you to your former friends back then. She suspects that he has tried to take you away from her and the glares and sharp words she has given him ever since are a telltale sign of her growing distrust. Shigure remains immune to her hostility though as something has seemed to change. He has always focused way too much on you as he used to despise you for stealing Akito. Hatred and love however, are two sides of the same coin.

🐕​⚫​He has grown an interest in you over the last few years and it truly doesn't do anything to better the situation. He flirts with you in front of Akito, the sight of her being possessive and jealous over you something he seems to enjoy as he doesn't mind all the insults and yells she gives him the moment she pulls you closer to your side. Both of the people he finds himself obsessed with are already basically attached to the hip and he likes seeing that. Shigure is already seeing it through that no one dares to to take Akito nor you away from him and one of the reasons why Akito still allows his presence so close to yours is because he is a mole. If he even suspects in the slightest that someone is interested in you, Akito is always the first to find out. Most of the time she sees it through herself to send such a person to her mansion and remind them violently that you belong to only her. In rare cases where the person in picture is someone who isn't part of the Sohma estate, Shigure promises her to ensure that they learn their lesson. After all you belong to Akito.

🐕​⚫​Whilst Akito uses violence, intimidation and emotional guilt-tripping to force you to stay with her, Shigure leans much more in the manipulative spectrum of things. Whilst he has yet to claim both Akito and you for himself, he knows that it would be the best scenario if he sees it through that you stay by Akito's side. Not only because Akito will keep you nice and isolated but because he can use both of you against each other to draw out advantages for himself. He can have Akito running to him and begging him for comfort and help whenever he manipulates things enough to give her easily paranoid mind the impression that you think about leaving her for someone else and can be your pillar of comfort when Akito's antics threaten to break you once again. Your heart feels like it is constantly bruised and beaten yet attachment and pity are cursed chains that keeps you by Akito's side. As violent and terrible as she is, she still has you and she thinks often that she really only has you. Shigure murmurs those words into your ears when you are hidden in his arms, abusing your pity to convince you to return to Akito which in return does earn him Akito's grudgingly gratitude.

🐕​⚫​Then the singular worst thing happens to you and it changes things for all three of you. First it happens with Akito who has grown into a woman who has to pretend like she is a man. She has needs, needs that need to be satiated but she only wants one person to cater to her most private needs. She wants you to take care of her. You've always taken care of her after all. She is needy and desperate for sexual affection but at the same time remains highly demanding as she forces the sexual relationship on you and thus reveals to you that she is a woman, a secret she has kept from you for years but now doesn't care to keep it hidden from you anymore. It messes with your mind as you are unable to deny her requests, the shackles of guilt and fear forever around your heart from that day on. You confide in the only person you see besides Akito and it only leads to your second downfall as you entrust Shigure with the news. He soothes you, coaxes the tears out of your eyes whilst comforting you yet there is a jealous gleam in his eyes. It truly is rather disgusting of him to feel that way, especially since he should be relieved that you lost your virginity to Akito and she hers to you.

🐕​⚫​His mind works in dark and twisted ways though as he feels like he has been robbed of something he would have loved to claim for himself. He can't help but wonder from that day on how you would look beneath him and soon his desire spurts him on to do something perhaps even more terrible. On a particular night where you are especially vulnerable he convinces you to have a few drinks with him as he keeps on filling your glass whilst you babble about your feelings and emotions until you are completely drunk. You only remember faintly sweet words coaxing you to his room, hands undressing you and lips traveling across your body and dark eyes expressing his weird co-existence of envy and pleasure that it was Akito who claimed your body first. You are awoken the next day by other maids who knock against the door of his house and inform the both of you that Akito has demanded for both of you to appear. Your heart drops as you look with panic in your eyes at Shigure who only gives you a grin as if he doesn't care about what he has done to you. Akito is weirdly silent at first when both of you arrive but the tension threatens to suffocate you.

🐕​⚫​She slowly approaches you, her eyes roaming over your body. The moment she demands you to kneel, your body reacts instinctively as you kneel down and look with fearful eyes at her. Hands caress your hair for a few seconds before she grabs a fistful of it and yanks your head up, screaming at you. Tears and snot drip down your face as she insults you, shames you and reminds you that your only worth is serving her. The one task you were assigned to yet have failed miserably. Your eyes silently beg Shigure to help you as he has gotten you into this mess yet he just idly watches and you feel sick to your stomach when you realise that he won't help you. You are thrown around, slapped across the face and yelled at for minutes before he finally speaks up and carefully advises that Akito should take it easier on you since you are on the verge of a panic attack. That is when she snaps her attention to him and you can only watch through sobs and tears as he receives the same treatment. Your throat feels like it is closing, you feel like you can't breathe and your whole body starts trembling uncontrollably as you witness how she banishes him from the Sohma estate.

🐕​⚫​Things are never the same again. It all has broken with no chance to fix the damage that has been inflicted. A small part of you still loves Akito but everything has been tarnished and stained by all-consuming fear. You flinch when she tries to touch you, your mind letting you see the maniacal gleam in her eyes on the day she found out that you had slept with Shigure and are constantly on edge as you have to endure every single day with her. There is no thing called privacy anymore as she has deemed you as someone she can't trust anymore. You sleep in the same room as her from now on, often she demands you to share even the same bed with her, and even showers are taken together. She doesn't take well to the fear you feel for her. She either reacts violently, desperately or just leaves you whilst muttering insults. Often it is all three in a random order. Emotionally you are already broken but even physically Akito tends to get so blinded with rage that she strikes you or throws something after you only to yell for her maids the next moment when she realises what she has done. Sometimes she tries to clean and bandage your wounds herself, her touches rough and her hands trembling slightly.

🐕​⚫​Most of the time you spend just silently accompanying you as you start changing. You don't care anymore about others and don't try to speak up for them. When Kana and Hatori ask Akito for her allowance for both of them to marry, you don't interfere when she flips out and hurts Hatori. Instead you wait for her to calm down herself, grasping her hand the moment she returns to your side and demands for your support and affection. You know by now how it goes. After every outburst of hers she will drag you to her room where you spend an hour or two giving her affection and helping her to calm down before she regains her composure again. You seek Hatori out later and apologise to him though, although he doesn't hold it against you. You haven't seen Shigure since he was banished but you have overheard some maids mentioning that he has sent you letters. Letters, which never made it past Akito who ripped all of them apart but you know that he would be smart enough to know that and probably only sends them to rile her up. You'll never forgive Shigure though for using your drunken state against you and for messing with your vulerability like this.

🐕​⚫​Your heart is in your throat when Shigure one day appears again and gives you a wave as if he has done nothing wrong. He's here to ask Akito if a girl named Tohru could live with them and to your surprise Akito agrees to it. Her grip on you is tight as she glares at Shigure throughout the entire conversation as his eyes never leave your form, almost relishing in the way cold sweat appears on your skin as you are once again exposed to being in the same room as both of them. He tells you with a smile that doesn't look sincere to you that you should visit them and meet Tohru since she is such a lovely girl. Akito has started shaking next to you and you can only clutch her hands tighter in silent hopes that she'll keep it in as she growls at him to leave now. A last warning and for a few dangerous seconds it looks like he considers making her snap before he seems to decide for the better and bids both of you goodbye, reminding you one last time of his offer. It is yet another bait he has been given as Shigure silently counts on the fact that Tohru's presence might help him to get closer to both Akito and you again, even if he has to kindle Akito's doubt and jealousy.

🐕​⚫​Akito brings her with you when she visits Tohru's school to meet the girl herself and brings you along. You keep your gaze low for the most part of the meeting as you know better than to give Akito any reason to be triggered. That is at least until the girl calls you out herself, her voice concerned and her eyes sincere as she asks you if you're feeling well. Kindness. Real kindness that almost has you tearing up before you feel Akito's hand grasping your wrist and squeezing it dangerously as she tilts her head and tells Tohru that everything is fine with you, forcing you to repeat her words as her grip on your wrist is a dangerous reminder. You're rather surprised when you see Yuki again and he shares the sentiment as he tries to rescue her before she starts taunting him. The moment Tohru pushes Akito away to stop her verbal torment though, you instinctively reach out to catch her, although Tohru was gentle when pushing her. Akito is rather pleased by your gesture as she tells you later in the car when you are sandwiched between Shigure and her, your heart racing dangerously in your chest as the two people who have hurt you the most are both sitting next to you yet you con only swallow your tears.

🐕​⚫​When the Sohmas enjoy their vacation during the summer, Shigure makes another move yet again as he convinces Akito to join them. Kureno and you accompany her. You do nothing as she torments the other Sohmas because you know that you would only make things worse for yourself and them. The entire time that Akito and you spend there, Shigure subtly tries to manage to get you for himself. He offers to show you around the house he's staying in and to give you a brief tour of the area. Akito denies you everything though unless she is with you and if no one else is around. It is quite obvious that she doesn't want Shigure and you to be left alone as she fears that both of you would betray her once again. Realising that, he still remains by your side like a leech as he decides to use the chance to the best of his abilities. You can't help but think that he's provoking Akito on purpose though when he asks how the both of you have been doing and aren't allowed to say anything as Akito answers all questions for you or simply forces you to produce the answer you know will please her. Shortly before both of you have to leave again, she meets Tohru and declares her status to her.

🐕​⚫​For some reason Shigure worms his way back inside the Sohma estate despite having been banned. The way he looks at you makes his skin crawl and his words, even if carefully veiled to hide their intentions, hit their target as he forces you out of your numb shell and gets you to express some emotions around him despite your attempts to ignore him. He doesn't really mind if you hate him. He just won't allow you to ignore and forget about him and if he has to torment you to do that, he will gladly do so. Occasionally he brings Akito and you some presents though, although his intentions are unclear. You think you fear him more than Akito in such moments where he hands you a bouquet of flowers because you have known Akito long enough to predict her somewhat even despite her impulsive temper. Shigure on the other hand has always shrouded himself in mystery and has never made his intentions obvious. You feel like you're walking on eggshells when he is around and the man knows about your feelings. He can't say that he hates it though as he finds odd enjoyment to see you so skittish around him. At least it means that he has an impact on your thoughts after all.

🐕​⚫​Slowly the curse of every member breaks though and the more it happens, the more do you find Akito growing more unstable. She grows even more hysterical until you feel like you can't breathe in her presence anymore. She runs away after having stabbed Kureno in the back as she reaches the peak of her instability and you do not follow her as you instead call an ambulance. You instead wait for her as you don't dare to leave the estate without her specific order. You aren't overly familiar with the city outside either as you have been very sheltered and would probably get lost outside if you were to run after her. It's Shigure who brings her back and the moment she sees you, she nearly causes you to topple when she throws herself at you, sobbing into your chest. Shigure is ushered away by the other maids as you find yourself in the familiar position of comforting her again. Only that this time is different. She confesses to you what had occured after she had run away, about Tohru and how she fell down the cliff before she asks you a question that makes your heart stop. Do you hate her for everything she has done?

🐕​⚫​You are unable to give her an answer to that question and expect her to lash out but that doesn't happen. Instead she almost seems to reflect on herself when she notes your inability to give her an answer. She requests of you if you'd like to come with her when visiting Tohru, afraid and unused to go anywhere without you yet not directly forcing you. Ultimately you decide to come with her as both of you visit Tohru who offers her friendship to the both of you and after that both of you visit Kureno who forgives her when she apologises to him. She seems to try to better herself but you know that it must be hard for her. Both of you have one way or another grown dependent on each other as she doesn't really know what to do without you and you essentially feel the same. She feels uneasy and anxious if she doesn't have you within her sight and you don't know what to do with your life either if you don't have her with you for a certain period of time. That is when Shigure finally decides to step back. Initial tension soon leads to both of them confessing their feelings for each other which then finally leads Shigure back to both people he has been wanting for essentially his entire life.

🐕​⚫​Akito isn't used to sharing and even if she does her best to mend her ways, old habits die hardly. She struggles to split your time, time she has been having years for herself. Especially since you do not want to be left alone with Shigure as the encounter from years ago is still very fresh in your mind and you prefer the devil you know over the devil you don't. Shigure doesn't respect your boundaries though as he constantly invades your privacy and follows you around. He has been waiting years for the moment where Akito would finally let him back and he plans to use every single chance to be with the both of you. It isn't like he doesn't know that he has traumatised both you and Akito but this is his own way of expressing his twisted feelings for you. He corners you, trails behind you and uses every chance to have a few moments alone with you. One time you snap at him and ask him through tears if he has no shame or guilt for what he has done. He confesses to you in that moment that he is fully aware of his wrongdoings and admits to being a terrible person but also tells you that he doesn't really regret anything he has done. It is a horrifying revelation that has your stomach churning.

🐕​⚫​At the same time Shigure clarifies though that he doesn't expect you to forgive him for what he has done to you and Akito. Knowing that both of you are now his is enough for him. Things don't really get better for you even if Akito is now attempting to be a better person. She has allowed Shigure back in her life and since both of you are still learning to get rid of the mutual separation anxiety which will probably never fully go away, you also find yourself stuck with Shigure. With his desires finally fulfilled, he may be less inclined to be a fulltime jerk but Shigure is still a terrible person who fully embraces his wickedness. His goal now is to ensure that you do not leave him because you don't feel the same way Akito feels about him. You love Akito though and wouldn't leave her side, especially since he knows how much both of you struggle to exist without the other. And he uses that to his advantage as he doesn't plan to assist in getting rid of the separation anxiety both of you have. There's nothing wrong with remaining attached after all. So even if Akito works on herself to be a better person, the relationship remains strained and toxic, especially with Shigure who will step low to keep you by their side.