#tora nii universe

[inkykeiji]

character: hanemiya kazutora x fem!reader

notes: anon asked for more tora-nii so!!! here he is!!! this ended up being way longer than i intended!!! but enjoy hehe! this is set within the same universe as this piece but works well as a standalone piece and can totally be read on it's own as well!

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, stepcest/pseudocest (step siblings), rough sex, minimal prep, painful sex, both kazutora and reader are total virgins (unrealistic loss of virginity), dubcon/noncon, the tiniest hint of dacryphilia, cum eating/feeding, super messy kisses

words: 4k

synopsis:

And finally, finally, the stress of the past several years seeps from your pores and leaves you feeling light and floaty, no longer weighing you down now that he’s in your arms, now that he’s free, body gone boneless against him as it melts into his own, fusing, becoming one again, whole again. Your knees nearly give out, bones deliquesced in pure relief, but your big brother is right there to catch you, chuckling a little as he hoists you further up his body, leaning you against his chest and supporting most of your weight.  The tears are flowing steadily now, flooding  your cheeks in thick, ceaseless streams, whole body shuddering beneath the force of your sobs—a continuous torrent of Tora, Tora, Tora-nii weeped out in violent hiccups.  “M’here, m’here, shh, hush now,” he’s telling you as he cradles you to him, rocking your bodies slightly. “Nii-san’s here.”

It’s sunny, the day he’s finally released; a bright blue sky embroidered with thick puffs of cotton, sunbeams filtering through the clouds and bathing everything bright and gold.

You’re leaning against your car as you wait, idly swinging the keyring around your index finger in a nervous jitter, metal tinkering rhythmically. 

At long last he’s stepping through that big barred gate, so large it trembles beneath its own weight as it stutters to an open, steel creaking, halting with an ominous clank! as it catches on the latch, echoes mingling with an obnoxious, nasally beep. 

It takes him a moment to find your face, gaze sweeping across the unfamiliar location, with wide, unsure eyes, a hint of a frown toying with the corners of his lips. 

But then he spots you, and love splits his face wide open, a brilliant smile stretched across his cheeks so wide it must hurt—automatic, instinctual, uncontrollable—topaz irises glittering in the sunshine.

And you swear, you’ll never tire of the way his whole face brightens when he’s in your presence. 

Your breath stagnates in your lungs, and for a second everything is still, the moment pregnant with anticipation, your heart mutilating itself against your ribs as it tries to crawl through the gaps.

But then he’s taking off, rubber soles of his sneakers slapping against the warped concrete, barreling into your body a mere instant later, so hard he crushes you between your car and his chest.  

It shoves a yelp from your throat, sharp and high, and he only squeezes you harder, fingers digging into your skin as his hands fist in the material of your dress, bunching it up in his palms and tugging. 

The hem rides several inches up your thighs, his hips keeping your legs spread, your own arms wound tightly around his shoulders, clinging to him and burying your face in his neck, forehead pressed firmly to the tiger inked into his skin. 

And finally, finally, the stress of the past several years seeps from your pores and leaves you feeling light and floaty, no longer weighing you down now that he’s in your arms, now that he’s free, body gone boneless against him as it melts into his own, fusing, becoming one again, whole again.

Your knees nearly give out, bones deliquesced in pure relief, but your big brother is right there to catch you, chuckling a little as he hoists you further up his body, leaning you against his chest and supporting most of your weight. 

The tears are flowing steadily now, flooding  your cheeks in thick, ceaseless streams, whole body shuddering beneath the force of your sobs—a continuous torrent of Tora, Tora, Tora-nii weeped out in violent hiccups. 

“M’here, m’here, shh, hush now,” he’s telling you as he cradles you to him, rocking your bodies slightly. “Nii-san’s here.”

And although you can hear the tears in his voice, you can feel his cock, half hard and pressed tightly to your hip, throbbing keenly as his honorific spills from your lips. 

“Look at me, sweetheart,” he murmurs into the crown of your head, punctuating his demand with a smattering of kisses, planted in your hair. 

Pulling back, you gaze up at him with a soft sound of inquiry. He bows his head, pushing his forehead against your own, noses nudging together. 

Eyes fluttering shut, his ribs expand into your own as he inhales you—your scent, your breath, your very aura itself—gulps you down and holds you in his lungs, lets you permeate his tissues and fester at his core before he’s surging forward, smashing his lips to yours, tongue breaking past your teeth and shoving the breath back down your throat, now infused with him. 

Shock leaves you stupid for a second before your body begins to respond—automatic, instinctual—delicate fingers slipping in the tufts of onyx curling up at the nape of his neck and twirling, wrapping the strands around your knuckles.

Your hands slide further, burying themselves in his hair, palms flattening against the back of his skull and pressing him close, closer, tongue greedily grinding against his own.

And it’s so sick, it’s so messy, mouths slick and sliding with each other’s drool as twin streams of tears cascade down your cheeks to pool in the seams of your lips, seeping through the cracks and staining your tongues with each other’s salt. 

It’s so sick, but it’s so good, too, hands pawing and gripping and tugging, the back of your heel arching around his lower calf, because too close is never close enough. Your nails scrape against his scalp and he moans into your mouth, the sound hot and heavy on your tongue, his hips twitching forward, gyrating in uneven little circles. 

Rough palms, decorated with cuts and callouses, are slinking up your soft thighs while your lips work, kneading flesh as they crawl beneath your dress, up, up, up until they reach your panties—lace, he can tell, fingertips tracing the trim with surprising delicacy, almost as if he’s committing the webbed pattern to memory, feeling every curve and crisscross of the knit. 

His fingertips tiptoe around your body, outlining the hem over your hips, following it all the way back to your ass where they slip beneath the thin fabric and grab, filling his palms with your flesh, nails biting superficial crescents into your bum.

He holds you there, holds you still, pulls you closer to him and forces you to stay stationary as his hips continue rocking, messily humping away at you. He’s panting out loud noises into your mouth in time with the movement of his hips, fragmented by his own breath, mewls that keep smothering your protests as they consume them. 

The straining head of his cock bumps against your inner thigh, the coarse material of his pants beginning to chafe your sensitive skin, and he sucks a hiss from your throat, swallows it down greedily and laps at your molars, slathering them in his foamy spit, hunting for more. 

It already feels so good, a dull heat beginning to amass deep in the pit of your belly—something that seeps through the floor of your stomach to the apex of your thighs, something that sends sparks and cinders racing through your veins, leaving your blood fizzing in their wake.

But as badly as you want him right here, right now, you know you can’t, the scrutinizing eyes of his discharging prison guard, still standing watch at the mouth of the massive gate, searing into your skin. 

“Tora-nii, Tora-nii,” you’re whimpering, and he groans, a deep sound reverberating within his ribcage. 

“I know, baby, I know,” And he sounds almost pained, voice hoarse and cracking, hands squeezing your flesh again. “I need you, too.” 

“N-Not here,” you mumble against his lips, the words drooping with reluctance.

A sound of annoyance vibrates in his throat, and he shakes his head, pulling back just enough to search your eyes, topaz frantic as it flies across your face. 

“I dunno how long I can wait,” he tells you seriously in a low whisper, confession straining beneath urgency, hips still rolling into yours. 

“But—But—Ah—”  

“Fuck,” he moans brokenly, curse shattered to shards in his throat, splintered and pitchy. 

“You—You just got released,” you force the words from your tongue, airy as he licks up the column of your neck, front teeth nipping at your skin. “Let’s not get arrested for public indecency on the same day.”

Another groan rumbles in his chest, this time borne of frustration, and he scrapes together his remaining scraps of self-restraint, stilling his hips. 

He has to admit, you have a point.

He hates that you have a point.

Because he genuinely does not know how he’s supposed to survive a twenty-five minute long car ride back to your sweet little apartment. 

He almost doesn’t, unable to keep his hands to himself, fingers wandering across your thighs, beneath your dress, hiking the hem up and revealing your panties to him. 

They’re cute, he moans, his cock still so hard it’s nearly painful as it throbs and yearns, leaking so much precum that it’s bled through his briefs and his trousers to leave a large, wet patch.

Ever-stubborn and lacking any sort of discipline, his palm wedges its way between your thighs, curious fingers stroking your slit, watching as the silk of those pretty panties dampens, darkens, becomes slick and slippery with your own arousal—the arousal he is causing, creating—eyes glittering with awe, breath exhaled through parted lips in little huffs. 

His other palm is busy grinding into his aching cock, his hips rutting up pathetically in his seat, the belt cutting into his flesh through his thin dress shirt. It’s nothing more than teasing, but it doesn’t matter, he can’t help it, he’ll take whatever he can get—whatever he can do to alleviate the scalding pressure building in his gut.

“Tora-nii,” you’re complaining in a sticky squeal when he finally tries to prod your hole, face scrunched up somewhere between aroused and annoyed. “Stop it!”

“Doesn’t feel like y’want me to stop,” he pants out, unable to tear his eyes from the apex of your thighs, groaning as your swollen little clit pulses against his thumb. “You—Y’fucking soaked, sweetheart.”

“Well I—I do—I don’t want to—Nii-san, please!” 

“Yeah, yeah, baby,” he mewls, nodding vigorously, eyes swapping almost frenetically between your clothed cunt, now perfectly outlined by the silk molded to your folds, and your face. 

“I don’t wanna lose my virginity on the side of the road!” you manage to squeak out in a single breath, shooting him the cutest little look of anger, brows pushed together so tightly it crinkles your forehead.

Alright, alright, he supposes that’s fair, though he’s still unable to keep his hands to himself—that’s asking a little too much, don’t you think? He’s been waiting five and a half years for this. 

He stops trying to fuck you, but just barely, making it an entire task to walk up the two short flights of stairs to reach your apartment, latching onto you like a leech as he stains blotches of grey and navy across your jaw, along your neck, over your collarbone.

It’s an insatiability, fingers griping and vying as they yank and knead, the hem of your dress pooling around his wrists as his palms slide up your thighs, fill his grasp with fistfuls of you as fingertips sink into plush flesh, digging bruises deep into the tissues and dimpling the skin. His hips rock against your ass in irresolute little motions, as if they’re unsure of how fast they want to thrust. 

“Tora,” your giggling as you fumble with your keys, faint notes of irritation negated by fondness. “I won’t be able to get the door open if you don’t quit it!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he’s mumbling noncommittally, dragging his tongue along the curve of your neck, then over the ridges of your shoulder, outfitting you in his spit. 

“You—You don’t sound sorry,” you huff, but there’s a smile on your face. 

“Can’t help it,” he whinges, nearly tripping over your ankles as the door finally swings open, the two of you stumbling into your apartment. 

He’s got you trapped between his body and the drywall before the door even clicks shut, a thigh wedged between your legs as he grinds his cock against your hip, a continuous stream of whines pouring from his throat into yours.

They vibrate as they spill onto your tongue, warm and buzzing, and you lick at his teeth, giggling a little at the way his hips jerk in response. 

“I—I—I—” he’s moaning into your mouth, needy and high, his hands already up your skirt again, index fingers dipping beneath the frilly waistband of your panties and curling. “I can’t, I can’t, I’m gonna—fu-fuck—”

His words disintegrate as those keen little noises eat straight through them, hands almost vicious as they tear through dainty lace, threads and elastics snapping audibly as they tangle around his knuckles. 

The material flutters to the floor in a ruined heap of delicacy, both palms already shoved between your thighs as they poke and prod, hungry and hunting.

“T-Tora, no, wait—” you’re breathing out as his fingers clumsily find your hole. 

He cuts you off with a ferocious growl, two calloused fingertips pressing into your cunt while the heel of his free palm shoves urgently at the waistband of his pants, managing to push them down his thighs just enough to yank his cock free. 

And then he’s tearing you open in one quick, harsh thrust, forcing a sharp yelp from your chest as he buries himself in your cunt. 

There isn’t a single moment to get used to the sudden intrusion, cute little hole struggling to take his girth as your skin splits into tiny fissures, fluttering and stretched raw. It fucking stings, sending spears of pain searing through your gut as the head of his cock rams against your cervix, impatient and immediate. 

It hurts the entire time, but it’s over pathetically, embarrassingly quickly; only three swift, sharp snaps of his hips before they’re stuttering to a stop with a loud, broken whine, cock throbbing as he fills you with copious amounts of cum—so much cum, too much cum, thick and viscous as it seeps past his cock to drool down your inner thighs and pool in the folds of his balls.

But he doesn’t seem to care that he finishes so briefly; it doesn’t seem to matter to him at all as he drops to his knees and spreads your thighs, plush flesh dipping beneath his grip as he forces them to stay open, joints flexing in a silent warning not to squirm and tongue flattening against your skin as he drags it up, up, up, sopping up a syrupy dribble of cum.  

His face is buried in your cunt a mere moment later, groaning a little as his tongue pushes past your abused little hole still weeping little slivers of crimson, copper mixing with the bitter of his seed and creating something sick, something intoxicating, something entirely addictive. 

And it’s all so vicious, it’s all so voracious, the way he eats his cum from your cunt as if he’s a starved man, as if he can’t get enough of you, can’t get enough of him within you, tip of his tongue curling, scooping, cupping as he devours you, sucks you clean, obnoxious slurping and smacking echoing throughout your apartment. 

He swipes over every dip and crevice, lapping hard and thorough as he collects the substance from your folds hole and beings to hoard it beneath his tongue.

Your nails scrape against his scalp as your knuckles root in inky tufts, and he whines loudly, shoves his face further into your pussy and eats you with such vigour it’s a marvel he can breathe at all.

“Tora-nii, Tora-nii,” you’re chanting out, the name airy on your tongue, responding grunts reverberating against your clit as he grinds his nose against it. 

He doesn’t stop until there’s nothing left, until he can no longer taste your blood or his cum, the pungent concoction stored safely within his cheeks. 

He looks like a fucking mess, lips and chin gleaming with slick and cum and blood—a shimmery, translucent pink varnishing the lower half of his face—but there’s a wide, toothless smile smeared across his cheeks, those topaz eyes so bright they’re nearly glowing, brimming with exhilaration and love.

Then he’s on his feet, a large hand wreathed around your jaw as he squeezes the hinges and pops your mouth open, tongue unfurling onto your own and shoving a mix of blood and spit and cum down your throat. 

It’s fucking filthy, thick threads of cum tangled with his saliva pouring from the corners of your lips while they slip and slide against one another, leaving shining streaks of pearlescent drool, tinged pink with blood, slathered across your jaws. It drips off your chin in slow, sticky drops, drizzling cool and slimy across your bosom. 

God, it’s all so much—you cum so much, Tora-nii!—his diligent tongue sweeping your mouth as he deposits the intoxicating mixture, laving over your teeth and dipping into your cheeks, staining your whole mouth with him. 

And he doesn’t let up, doesn’t let you jerk away or move a single centimeter until he’s emptied his mouth into your own, until you’ve sucked his tongue fucking clean with tight, puckered lips, until you’ve scraped all the contents from the muscle with your teeth and swallowed every last remnant, notes of salt and copper lingering on your tastebuds. 

Impossibly, he’s already hard again, the head of his cock bluntly bumping against your hole, awkward and uncoordinated as he pants out pleads into your mouth. 

“Please, please,” he’s whining hotly onto your tongue. “Please, let me fuck you again, I gotta—I’m gonna—I gotta—”

Sharp little keens keep shattering his sentences, his eyes closing tightly as his whole face scrunches in concentration, desperately attempting to quell the crude twitching of his hips.

“Pr-Promise I’ll fuck you properly this time,” he hurls the vow into your mouth, quick and sloppy. “Promise I’ll—I’ll make you cum this time, swear I will, baby, just let me fuck you again!” 

Yes, yes, you’re nodding against him, teeth clacking and lips catching on incisors. Yes, please, nii-san. 

The two of you barely make it to your bedroom, tripping over each others limbs as you stumble toward the bed and fall onto the mattress in a knotted heap, the balls of your feet shoving at the waistband of his pants, helping him kick them the rest of the way off. 

It’s nasty and primal and so fucking intimate, with your knees hooked over his shoulders and ankles linked behind his neck, thighs sandwiched between your chests and foreheads pressed firmly to one another. The tips of your noses nudge as he pounds into you, ruthless and relentless in his pursuit, hard enough to jostle your body up the mattress, hard enough to have the whole bed frame shuddering, brass headboard knocking against the wall.

“Like that, Tora-nii, like that,” you’re breathing, hips rolling up into his, clit catching on his slick pubic bone.  

“Y-Yeah?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you gasp out, eyes shut tightly, feet curling around the back of his neck, a pitiful attempt to pull him closer. 

“S’good?”

“S’good, s’good, it’s so good,” you’re nodding against him, front teeth chipping his. “Your cock feels so good, Tora-nii!”

A groan rattles his ribs and his hips drive forward harder, rougher, faster, spurred on by your praise, desperate to prove to you that he can make you cum, desperate to make good on his promise. 

Because you’re getting close now, he thinks he can tell. He thinks he can see it in the way your eyes keep fluttering shut with each swipe of his pelvis over your clit, with each drag of his cockhead against your cervix; thinks he can hear it in the way you can barely push that cherished nickname from your lips, the sweetest little huffs of Tor-Tor-Tora-nii! breaking on your tongue; thinks he can feel it in the way your thighs keep tightening, body going rigid as your hands grasp and claw, nails gorging themselves on his muscle, yearning for as much of him as physically possible. 

“G-Gonna—hah, fuck—gonna cum for your nii-san, sweetheart?” 

The question wafts across your face, strings of drool swaying with each of his panted breaths, splattering across your cheeks and cooling instantly. 

“Uh—Uh-huh, nii—nii-san,” you mewl out, stammered by the slamming of his hips.

“Look at me, please,” he begs, voice high and broken. “Wanna—Want you to look at me when you cum, look at your big brother.” 

And you do, because you’re such a good little sister, eyes springing open, lashes weighted with teardrops. 

His own eyes are wet, too, long lashes clumped together in thick little spikes, glittering drops balancing perilously on the points.  

Three more pistons of his hips and your cunt is clenching around him with such vigour it’s almost painful, whole body bowing off the bed as sparks zip up your spine, curving each vertebra as they pass.

Slick gushes down his shaft, and it’s so much, it's so messy, coating his thighs in thick, shimmering smears, slippery and sticky and so Goddamn sick as they smack against your ass, the constant slap of skin against skin sharp as it echoes throughout your bedroom. 

It’s so intense it whites your vision and wipes your mind, wailing out his honorific like it’s a fucking prayer, over and over and over again.

And Christ, Kazutora swears you’ve never looked or sounded more beautiful than you do cumming all over your big brother’s cock. 

It has a loud whine spilling from his throat, topaz eyes wide and fluttering rapidly, desperate to clear the bleary shield of tears lacquering his vision, to burn every little micro-expression that transforms your pretty features into the tissues of his brain, forever. 

Because it’s all because of him.

The thought has his hips faltering, falling out of their rhythmic pace and bucking wildly as they chase whatever high you’re currently riding, avid to reach it with you. 

“Oh God, oh God, oh fuck,” he’s whimpering out, eyes shutting tightly before snapping open again. “I—I—Am I—Does it—Ah—”

“L-Love your cock, Tora-nii,” you’re slurring out beneath him, sloppy and stuffed with spit, gone stupid with pleasure. 

And it’s incredible, honestly, how you always know exactly what he needs, still, even now, even after so many years apart. 

“Again,” he rasps, thrusts turned dishevelled and careless. “Tell me again.”

“Love your cock so much, Tora-nii-san,” you keen, gazing up at him with fucked-out bliss all over your face, glazed eyes full of sick admiration. “Want your cock t’fill me up.”

“W-With what? Huh? Tell nii-san what you want him to f-fill your pretty little pussy up with.”

“Cum, cum, Tora-nii’s cum!” you sob, nails biting into the muscle of his shoulders as another ripple of overstimulation courses through your flesh. “Want Tora-nii-san to stuff my pussy full of his cum! S’much, s’much—!” 

“Oh, Jesus,” he nearly cries, voice cracking with the curse. “I—I’m gonna—Ah, fuck, fu-fuck!”

“Please, please, please, Tora-nii-san,” you’re still babbling on, half-delirious for his seed. “Please, gimme your cum, please, want your cum, Nii-san, please!” 

And it’s the pleading that does it, so fucking sordid, so fucking sincere, tears of disgust and desire decorating your cheeks in shimmering streams, that has his whole body shuddering with a loud, broken moan of your name, his cock pulsing viciously and pumping your cunt full of hot, thick cum. 

“Oh, thank you, Nii-san,” you’re weeping, weakly scrabbling at his shoulder blades. “Thank you, thank you.” 

You always were such a polite girl. Kazutora’s glad to see that nothing’s changed.

“So good, so good, y’such a good little sister for me,” the praises leak from his lips, languid and lazy as he collapses on top of you, dragging half-baked kisses across your jaw. 

His chest is heaving against yours, dress shirt turned translucent with sweat as it clings to his swelling ribs, outlining every bump and ridge. Your fingertips traverse across them, soft and gentle, almost as if you’re counting each rib, almost as if you’re making sure they’re all still there. 

“M’so happy you’re home,” you drool out against his skin, nuzzling into his neck a little as your arms wrap around him.

Yeah, he thinks as he squeezes you to his form. It’s good to be home. 

[agirlinhell]

⇋  tumblr roleplaying history!

The rules are simple! Post the characters you currently roleplay as, want to roleplay, and have roleplayed in the past. Then tag people to do the same! Please repost and don’t reblog!

** fuck the rules i’m including all the characters i’ve played off tumblr too

Currently Playing:

Clementine Maria Jasmine Cree ( The Walking Dead ) — Active

Senju Toka ( NARUTO ) — Hiatus

Uchiha Momoka, Uchiha Akio, Uchiha Aiko, Uchiha Haruka, Uchiha Takehiko & Uchiha Kimiko ( Founders Era NARUTO OC’s )  — Hiatus ; Revamping

Want to Play:

Daenerys Targaryen ( ASOIAF/GOT ) 

Arianne Martell ( ASOIAF ) 

Terumī Mei ( NARUTO ) 

Nii Yugito ( NARUTO )

Princess Nymeria of Ny Sar ( ASOIAF )? 

The Bloodstone Emperor of Yi Ti ( ASOIAF )? 

Shiera Seastar ( ASOIAF )? 

Lyanna Stark ( ASOIAF )? 

Ashara Dayne ( ASOIAF )? 

Ōtsutsuki Kaguya ( NARUTO ) 

Nina Nicci ( GANGSTA. ) 

Loretta Christiano Amodio ( GANGSTA ) 

Dr. Theodore D'Angelo ( GANGSTA ) 

Delico Abaddonato ( GANGSTA ) 

Erica (Abaddonato) Esposito ( GANGSTA ) 

Constance Raveau ( GANGSTA ) 

Beretta Blake Barcelona ( GANGSTA )

Nohara Rin ( NARUTO ) 

Uchiha Madara ( NARUTO ) 

Nicolas Brown ( GANGSTA. )? 

Wu Zetian ( Historical based on elements from The Empress of China + alternate universes and crossovers )? 

Konan ( NARUTO )

Akasuna no Sasori ( NARUTO )?

 Louis Leto Lacroix ( TWDG ) ?

 Visenya Targaryen ( ASOIAF ) 

Rhaenyra Targaryen ( ASOIAF )

Alyssane Targaryen ( ASOIAF )?

 Elissa Farman ( ASOIAF )?

Myrcella Baratheon ( ASOIAF / GOT )

James Reed Fairbanks ( TWDG )? 

James Dae Young ( TWDG )? 

Mitchell Edward Green ( TWDG)? 

Aasim Anand Acharya (TWDG)? 

Todoroki Shouto ( BNHA )? 

Sabaku no Temari ( NARUTO ) ?

Senju Hashirama ( NARUTO )?

Senju Tobirama ( NARUTO )?

Yamanaka Ino ( NARUTO )?

Hyuga Hinata ( NARUTO )?

Haruno Sakura ( NARUTO )?

Uzumaki Kushina ( NARUTO )?

Luna Lovegood ( Harry Potter ) 

Hermione Granger ( Harry Potter ) ?

Newt Scamander ( Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them / Harry Potter ) 

Aaliyah Jasmine Allbright Cree ( a Louis/Clementine lovechild OC - TWDG & other fandoms )? 

Minerva Stella Williams ( TWDG ) 

Sansa Stark ( ASOIAF/GOT ) 

Arya Stark ( ASOIAF/GOT )

Margaery Tyrell ( ASOIAF/GOT ) 

Several Founders Era OC'S including but not limited to Uchiha Takeo, Fusa Arashi, Senju Yukio, Nii Tora, Terumi Akane, Yuki Shiro, Homatsu Mizuto, Chinoike Shiroko,  Tamamushi Takiko, Uzumaki Kenjin, Mitokado Shinku ( NARUTO ) 

Fandomless OC's including but not limited to: Rose Donovan Iden, Evangeline Caliver, Severus Alkaev, Akane Bolero, Caeltair Frigus Viridus, Coraline Crimson, Icondoit Mercer Iden Donovan, Araceli Cieli, Apollo Choiseul, Issac Crimson, Seth Crimson, Nightmare Xemvoi, and Lucinus Radiosus. )

Uzumaki Mito ( NARUTO ) 

Kyuubi no Kurama ( NARUTO )

Sarutobi Sasuke ( NARUTO ) 

Uchiha Izuna ( NARUTO )

Uchiha Hikaku ( NARUTO )?

Alice Cullen ( Twilight )?

Eren Jaeger ( Shingeko no Kyojin/Attack on Titan )?

Nezumi ( NO.6 ) 

Johanna Mason ( The Hunger Games )?

Lilo Pelekai ( Disney )

Princess Jasmine ( Disney )

Queen Elsa ( Disney )

Esmeralda ( Disney mixed with traditional stories )

Belle ( Disney mixed with traditional stories )

Aurora ( Disney mixed with traditional stories )

Tinkerbell ( Disney mixed with traditional stories )

Megara ( Disney mixed with traditional stories )

brain not working, i know there are a lot of other characters i’ve had in mind but. damn sorry. smhhhhh

Have Played:

like a million other OCs

Uzumaki Mito ( NARUTO )

Kyuubi no Kurama ( NARUTO )

Uchiha Izuna ( NARUTO )

Sarutobi Sasuke ( NARUTO )

believe me there are many more that i can’t remember right now

tagged by: no one, stole it from @bonezone LOL tagging: anyone who wants to do this!!

[osakaso5]

ŹOOĻ Special Story - Antagonistic Quarter

Chapter 2 - A Life of Selfish Lies

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Minami Natsume: I was a bit surprised that you'd say something like that to Inumaru-san.

Torao Mido: Whatever. I've already forgotten what I said.

Minami Natsume: I didn't think you were someone who understands the sadness that comes with not having your value recognized, nor the pain of people not needing anything from you.

Minami Natsume: I'm sure you always had people praising and desiring you, people you'd run away to whenever you grew tired of something.

Minami Natsume: If, by any chance, you were actually feeling hurt and having self-doubts...

Torao Mido: Minami...

Minami Natsume: I'd just love to be there to witness it.

Torao Mido: Tsk... Is this some kind of strange fanaticism? Do you think this is funny? Or is your personality really this horrible?

Minami Natsume: No. I just can't be honest with myself. The truth is that I'm worried about you, Mido-san.

Torao Mido: You won't fool me.

Minami Natsume: Ah... The difficulty of being sincere.

Torao Mido: Sorry to let you down, but I'm not hurt or doubting myself in any way. Pathetic emotions like pain and loneliness have no relation to me.

Minami Natsume: My, oh my.

Torao Mido: Aren't you the same? The fact that you used to be a child actor must mean that you were successful from a young age. You probably haven't experienced any hardships either.

Minami Natsume: Of course I have. I've got countless rejections behind me.

Torao Mido: ...Really?

Minami Natsume: Yes. That's exactly why I've become so twisted, you know?

Torao Mido: I don't like that answer...

Minami Natsume: Hee hee, you're so kind. You're not twisted, Mido-san. Though you're also not someone who'd be welcomed by the masses  with open arms.

Torao Mido: Ryo-san told me something similar when I first met him.

Minami Natsume: Oh, what did he say?

Torao Mido: "You're messed up. But it's not your fault. It’s because you were living like an idol before you even had the wish or resolve to be one."

Minami Natsume: ...What does that mean?

Torao Mido: Who knows. I'm still not sure.

- - - -

Torao Mido: Wow, a new hero toy! Thank you, Nii-san!

Torao's Brother: Ahaha. You sure love heroes, Torao!

Torao Mido: Yeah! Defeating bad guys is cool!

Torao's Brother: Oh... Dad's yelling. Sorry, but I gotta go, Torao.

Torao Mido: Dad's so nice... Why is he always angry at you?

Torao's Brother: He has big expectations for me, that's all. It's my job to be the successor of this family. I'm proud that he's treating me like an adult.

Torao Mido: Expectations...

Torao's Brother: That's why you need to do what you like and grow up carefree for my share, too. I'll bring you another toy!

Torao Mido: Thank you!

Maid: Heh... Even our strict master and the young master like to spoil Torao-san. He's such an angelic, adorable boy.

Maid: Master is a kind man at heart, so he must feel the need to spoil his servants and Torao-san to make up for how harshly he treats his oldest son.

Maid: I'm sure he'll grow into a handsome young man, loved by everyone!

- - - -

Torao's Father: Well done! You were the top of your school year, and excelled in your extracurricular activities as well. The Mido lineage couldn't ask for a better son.

Torao Mido: Thank you, Dad.

Torao's Father: And on top of that, you have the same dignified features your mother had when she was young. You're the center of attention at every party you go to.

Torao Mido: Thank you. I wanted to talk to you about university. I'd like to aim for the one Nii-san graduated from.

Torao Mido: That way, I could probably help you two with work...

Torao's Father: You can't study abroad. I won't be able to see your face when I return to Japan. Besides, it's been dangerous around there lately, so a Japanese university is your best option.

Torao Mido: ...Okay...

Torao's Father: You don't need to worry about the company. Just do what you want and live an easy life. Oh, I get it. Do you need more pocket money?

Torao's Father: If there's anything you want to do, tell me. I'll support you in any way I can.

Torao's Father: I, your mother, and your brothers are all here for you. We all want you to be happy.

Torao Mido: Ah, I see... Alright. Thank you. 

- - - -

Woman: Torao-kun, how did dinner with your father go?

Torao Mido: Same as always. He told me to live how I want.

Woman: That's so nice of him! In that case, let's go overseas for our next holiday! To one of your family's fancy hotels!

Torao Mido: Again?

Woman: Can I invite my friends this time? When I told them about our cruise, they all wanted to go, too.

Torao Mido: I don't mind going overseas... But I don't really like your friends. All they do is ask me weird questions.

Woman: That's because you're so cool! Pretty please?

Torao Mido: You're always asking me for things. Can I ask something, too?

Woman: Sure. What?

Torao Mido: Let's go see this movie. It's about an American comic book hero...

Woman: Sorry, I don't like violent stuff. Besides, mainstream movies aren't something celebs watch! I don't think they suit you, Torao-kun!

Torao Mido: Oh, I see...

Torao Mido: Sigh... 

- - - -

Torao Mido: I don't know if everyone loves me or hates me.

- - - -

Door opens

Torao's Father: You call yourself my successor!? You need to do better than this!

Torao Mido: Dad. Ah... you're on the phone with Nii-san?

Torao's Father: ...Oh, Torao. What is it?

Torao Mido: I made my tutor angry...

Torao's Father: It's alright. Don't worry. I'll do something about that. You did nothing wrong, Torao.

- - - -

Woman: You're dumping me for a reason like that!? Why can't you listen to me more, and be nicer to me!?

Torao Mido: What do you mean, "nicer"? I did everything you wanted. You could've listened to me, too...

Woman: Whatever! You can't understand how I feel, anyway. Because you've got everything! 

- - - -

Torao's Father: You want to go backpacking with your friends from university? You can't do that. What if you get kidnapped in some crime-ridden country?

Torao Mido: I'll be fine. Dad, didn't you tell me that I could do what I wanted..?

Torao's Father: You can do anything but that. You're so naive, Torao. Ahaha. That's another thing I love about my adorable youngest son.

Torao's Father: Torao, what do you want to do? What do you wish for? Ask me anything. 

- - - -

Woman: I'm so happy... Just walking around town with you is total bliss.

Torao Mido: ...Oh, is that so?

Woman: Yes... I've always admired you, Torao-san, so just being with you makes me really happy.

Torao Mido: Sigh... I see.

Torao Mido: In that case, don't hold back. What do you want to eat? Is there anything you'd like?

Woman: I don't want anything! Ah... But, there is one thing...

Woman: Could I upload a picture of us on social media?

Torao Mido: .......

- - - -

Torao Mido: I don't know if everyone's being kind or unkind towards me.

- - - -

Torao Mido: I wonder what this person wants.

Torao Mido: I wonder what this person doesn't want.

Torao Mido: If you assume that you can do whatever you want, you'll find out that that's not true. Well, not like it matters.

Torao Mido: It's too difficult and bothersome to think about. They'll be giving you a sweet smile one moment and frowning the next. That's just how people are.

Torao Mido: Irresponsible, insincere, greedy, changing completely depending on the people they're with. I should just live like they do.

Torao Mido: I feel like I used to want something, but I've already forgotten what. Oh well, everyday's fun, so it doesn't matter. People seem to envy me, anyways.

Torao Mido: Even if not every night is fun for me, I'm pretty sure I've never felt unhappy.

Ryo Tsukumo: Hey mister, are you interested in showbiz?

Torao Mido: .........

Ryo Tsukumo: Wow, you didn't even stop to listen! Used to talent scouts, are you?

Torao Mido: You're bothering me. Go away.

Ryo Tsukumo: No, I'm not. You should be interested in what I have to say. After all, you're not a performer, yet your whole life is an act.

Torao Mido: ...What're you talking about?

Ryo Tsukumo: You're the very embodiment of an idol! On one hand, you're allowed to do anything, but on the other, your existence comes with endless guidelines.

Ryo Tsukumo: That's why you're so messed up. But it's not your fault. You're acting like an idol  without the wish or resolve to be one.

Ryo Tsukumo: You're going down the road that many idols with hopes and resolve have collapsed on, with only an empty heart. Well done.

Torao Mido: ..........

Torao Mido: I don't get what you're saying, but okay. Seeya.

Ryo Tsukumo: Wait, wait. Give it some proper thought first. You're enrolled in such a nice university, after all.

Torao Mido: You're a pain in the ass...

Ryo Tsukumo: I just can't bear to see you become unhappy at this rate.

Torao Mido: Me, unhappy? Haha... Do you even know who I am?

Ryo Tsukumo: You are unhappy. It's unhappiness that nobody expects anything from you. Third son of the Mido household, Torao Mido.

Torao Mido: ........

Ryo Tsukumo: Your family treats you like a pet, your peers treat you like an oil magnate. But nobody expects anything from you as a person.

Ryo Tsukumo: I know the feeling very well! I'm an overlooked talent, myself! Though my older brother was the family pet!

Torao Mido: ...Who are you?

Ryo Tsukumo: Finally, I've caught your attention. Ryo Tsukumo. Future president of a talent agency.

Torao Mido: I'm not interested in showbiz. The entertainment industry is full of lies, anyway.

Ryo Tsukumo: What makes you say that?

Torao Mido: I mean... Everybody says so. They lie to get special treatment.

Ryo Tsukumo: Exactly, Torao. I went through awful things because of those lying performers and idols.

Ryo Tsukumo: I want to take revenge on them. I'll expose the truth to all those who see that filthy world as something beautiful.

Torao Mido: ..."Them"?

Ryo Tsukumo: Re:vale, for starters! Ever heard of them? The idol stars that everyone's talking about!

Ryo Tsukumo: Back when they were unpopular, they relied on me, used me, only to break their  promise once they'd made their big break.

Torao Mido: I see... They seemed like nice guys to me.

Ryo Tsukumo: Momo is the Devil incarnate, while Yuki is the very embodiment of Death! They absolutely must be punished. Next up is TRIGGER!

Torao Mido: TRIGGER, too?

Ryo Tsukumo: Exactly. That Ryunosuke Tsunashi guy is a huge liar. He's pretending to be a celeb  like you, but he's actually the son of a fisherman  who's drowning in debt!

Ryo Tsukumo: And there's plenty more! Gaku Yaotome is domineering from the shadow of his father, while Sumire Hanamaki does nothing but beg for vacations now that she's made it big!

Ryo Tsukumo: They're nothing but selfish, crooked, dishonest people who can't be fixed! And yet, they're what's popular nowadays!

Ryo Tsukumo: This world is all wrong...

Torao Mido: ....... Yeah, I guess so...

Ryo Tsukumo: Hey, Torao. Please save me. I don't want to give up just yet. I need your  help in order to deliver some justice.

Torao Mido: ...Justice..?

Ryo Tsukumo: Yes, indeed! I want to defeat Re:vale, TRIGGER, and all those other liars, too!

Ryo Tsukumo: To do that, I need an in to the entertainment business, a beautiful man who can rise the top in the blink of an eye. Someone like you.

Torao Mido: ........

Torao Mido: How do I know you're not lying?

Ryo Tsukumo: I have recordings and documents as proof. I'll send them to you, if you want.

Torao Mido: ...Fine. I'll think about it.

Ryo Tsukumo: I have great expectations for you, Torao.

Torao Mido: ........

Ryo Tsukumo: And I actually mean it when I say that. 

- - - -

Torao Mido: ........

Minami Natsume: Mido-san?

Torao Mido: Ah... No, it's nothing.

Torao Mido: Hey, Minami. Why do you compose music? What got you into it?

Torao Mido: How does one find something they want to do?

Minami Natsume: ........

Minami Natsume: I used to play the piano. Before I became a child actor, I even took lessons. I absolutely loved playing.

Minami Natsume: However, eventually my work got so busy that I had to quit.

Torao Mido: I see.

Minami Natsume: I'm much like the Town Musicians of Bremen. I lost sight of my original goal and remained in place. Despite that, I thought I'd earned my happy ending.

Torao Mido: Was that a bad ending, then?

Minami Natsume: I suppose my story has yet to conclude.

Torao Mido: Oh...

Minami Natsume: I'll head home now. The stars are making me awfully sentimental tonight. I might blurt out something unnecessary.

Torao Mido: ...Alright. Take care.

Minami Natsume: Good night. 

Continued in Part 2...