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themorningsunshine · 1 year

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Pie - eyed over you

Mafia - Baker AU

Masterlist Series Masterlist

Pairing - Mafia!Bucky x Baker!Reader

Summary - When a new baker in town refuses to abide by his rules, Bucky has no option but to go and take care of it himself. But nothing could prepare him for what stood on the other side. Nothing could prepare him for you.

Warnings - Mentions of murder and weapons

Word count - 3.3k

a/n - This is my first time writing an AU and I am super nervous (also because I have combined two things I can just not write about, weapons and cooking). Please let me know what you think.

Rain was pouring heavily on the roof of the shed and he wasn't sure if the old sheds meekly covering the building could contain them much longer. He couldn't care less.

He walks out of the building and into the rain, wiping his left arm on his dry coat to wipe off the blood covering it. The pouring rain caresses his face but does nothing to the ever-present frown on his forehead and the grimace on his lips.

He used to love the rain as a kid. The gentleness of the droplets, the smell of rain, and the puddles. It was so much easier back then. So innocent. He closes his eyes as droplets slide their way all over him. They touch him like they don't know what he has just done.

His frown deepens as images claw into his mind once again. He clenches his fist remembering how it had taken him mere 10 seconds to shoot 3 bullets straight into the man's head. The killing had become easier over the years. Picking the bullet and shooting straight into the target had become second nature to him.

What hadn't become easier was the aftermath. The guilt that somehow always gnawed its way into his heart. The question was there any other way?

With his eyes still closed, he brings his face towards the sky, daring the rain to wash away his thoughts the same way it has washed away the blood that stuck to his metal arm not so long ago.

He likes the rain for a completely different reason now.

It provides him with an escape.

From his mind.

His thoughts

The images. The man screaming, begging him to stop and he doesn't even feel disgusted by himself when he doesn't even falter. He left his men to take care of the body.

A face lingers in his mind, pushing away all the dark thoughts. His ma "Bucky "

It's like he can hear her call out to him, urging him to come back home.

She would have hated how he turned out.

But he tells himself he doesn't care.

It didn't matter what his ma would have thought about him. She wasn't here. She didn't have to know.

He snaps his eyes open when he doesn't feel the rain falling on his face anymore. He can still hear the raindrops thudding on the roofs of the buildings. He looks up to see a huge umbrella over his head, shielding him from the rain.

He frowns and follows the handle of the outrageous floral print object only to be met by the sight that was going to change his life forever.

The first thing he saw when his eyes met y/e/c ones was that they held a certain softness to them that he didn't think still existed in this world. He was almost afraid to take his eyes off yours as if he was scared that you would crumble down under his gaze.

But when he brought his eyes over your face and then the rest of you, he knew it was the most beautiful sight his eyes had ever landed on. That even the most beautiful paintings in the world didn't hold a candle to you.

"Are you okay?" You whispered, voice so gentle, it could calm the most violent of storms.

Bucky thinks those are the most precious three words he has ever heard. He nods his head, mostly because he doesn't speak too much these days and also because it has been a very long time since someone has asked him that question.

"I am walking that way and the rain is increasing, you don't want to get drenched. Walk with me?" You ask and he thinks he would burn the whole world down to the ground with a smile on his face if you asked.

He looks at the way you are pointing and realizes that's where his car is parked. He says, "Okay" and sees as you take a step towards him, covering the both of you with your umbrella, and his senses are filled with your smell. You smell like freshly baked cookies and coffee. It's his new favorite smell.

You take a couple of steps ahead before turning towards him and he realizes he is staring. He doesn't remember the last time when somebody had enthralled him so much. For some reason, he just can't get himself to look away.

"I have not seen you around before." He says only to hear you speak again.

"Yeah, I am kind of new here. Been less than a week." You reply with a smile on your face and Bucky thinks this cursed town has just been blessed.

You look around before commenting, "It's a beautiful town." And for the love of god, he can't figure out how this part of the town which is more of a dumpster with remnants of buildings all around can be beautiful to somebody.

"This is not really a safe place." When you look at him with confusion in your eyes, he continues, "Especially at this time of night." As if that explanation is enough. He straightens his back and tries to get the confident, mob aura he has around everyone. "What are you doing here?"

If his slightly changed demeanor throws you off guard, you don't point it out. You just bite your lip before speaking, "What if I tell you I lost my way?"

The chuckle that leaves him is involuntary. "Really? Lost your way?"

"Hey. In my defense, it's just been a week." You place your hand on your chest in fake offense.

"Where were you heading to?"

You put your hand in your pocket before taking out a piece of paper. "Here"

Bucky takes the paper from you and looks at it with furrowed brows. "Why are you walking this way? This place is at the other end of that alley." He says before pointing out to a dark alley.

You make an o shape with your mouth before turning toward where he is pointing. "Got it. Thanks."

When you reach his car and his driver opens the door for him, he turns back before saying, "Let me drop you." It doesn't sound like a request.

"No, no. It's fine. I don't want to be trouble. Also, I am not sure your car would fit in there." You said before tilting your umbrella towards yourself.

"I'll see you around." You tell him before giving him a small wave and walking away, a smile still etched on your lips.

Bucky stands there, watching you go, and realizes he didn't ask your name. But he'd be damned if he let you go in that alley alone. He asks one of his men to make sure that you reach your destination safely.

"Keep an eye from afar." He instructs him. Voice cold and commanding.

But the frown on his head and the grimace on his lips are a little less evident on the way back.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

"What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?" Bucky's voice bellowed around the dark room, startling everyone around him.

"S- sir, I tried." Peter bows his head before whimpering.

Steve, who has been standing beside Bucky's chair leans in to whisper, "He is just a kid, Buck."

Bucky rubs his hand over his face before looking at Peter trying his best to give him a soft look. "Okay, Peter. I don't have time for this. What exactly is the problem here? And don't tell me a full-blown story."

"S-sir, the new bakery. The owner says she isn't going to pay the money. Said something about taxes and also that, 'If I don't barge in there asking for weapons, don't barge into my place asking for money.'

Some of the men standing in the corner chuckle but are rewarded by a glare from Bucky.

"I don't have time to deal with a Baker. Did you tell her that everybody in town pays the money? It's for protection." He says, voice slightly irritated. The townspeople feared him. There was no doubt about that in his mind. Hence, they sent him money at the start of every month diligently. But sometimes, out of the blue, someone would come and try to be the savior, trying to rebel. He didn't understand what they wanted. He wasn't a monster. Over the years, he had relieved some people of paying the money on various occasions.

"I did tell her that, sir. She asked me who exactly is this protection from." Peter whispered, now slightly trembling with fear.

This piqued Bucky's interest. Over the years, nobody had ever asked his men the reason behind the money. They just obliged.

Peter continued, "I told her it's from the mob. Some of us. And she said she isn't going to pay us to do the bare minimum, to be human." Bucky leaned back in his chair and shut his eyes in annoyance.

Steve spoke up, "It's okay, Buck. I'll handle this. You know they all give in eventually."

Bucky opened his eyes and stood up from his chair. "Nope, I will come with you. This is different." He then looked at Sam who was standing at the other end of the room, "Receive the order of the weapons. The delivery is scheduled in an hour."

Same nodded his head before walking out of the room. Bucky dismissed the other men and along with Steve walked towards Peter, both of the men towering over him.

"Peter, are those crumbles of pie on your face?"

A shiver passed through Peter at his cold tone and he willed himself to speak, "She gave it to me, sir. I tried to refuse. Really did. But she said that I am just a kid and don't deserve - " Peter cut himself before he could speak too much. He somehow had the habit of always speaking about stuff that is supposed to be kept secret.

A small smile found its way to Bucky's lips but it was gone as soon as it came and he patted Peter's shoulder dismissing him. "This is different." He said to Steve before walking out of the room.

And for some reason, he was sure it was true.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

"We are here, sir."

Bucky looked up from the file he was reading to his driver and then around him. It was one of the good areas of the town where families stayed, holed up in their whole little world, the darkness of the other side not fully reaching them.

Steve instructed the driver and the guard to stay in the car as the both of them walked out. "That is the one," Steve said pointing towards something.

Bucky followed his gaze and his movements faltered for a slight second. He had never seen something so - warm.

A little bakery standing between a bookstore and a cycle stand with sweets adorning its shelves looking delicious enough to lure anybody inside—soft music playing in the little speaker placed outside. People occupying the chairs outside and inside the shop, kids running around with huge grins on their faces, every one into their own little world.

It looked lively.

Bucky couldn't remember seeing something like this in the town before. Maybe he hadn't even bothered, or maybe something had really changed. With their black sunglasses and dressed up in dark colors from head to toe, he wasn't sure if he and Steve were going to fit in, but he couldn't care less.

As they walked closer, Bucky could now see most of the shop and when his eyes landed on the sole person behind the counter, his breath hitched in his throat.

Removing his sunglasses to get a better look, he stopped in his tracks when his suspicions were confirmed.

It was her.

The girl with the floral umbrella and the warm smile.

The girl who had somehow crept her way into his thoughts more than he would like to admit in the past week since he had seen her.

And she was beautiful.

He saw as you stood behind the counter, handing a box to a little girl with a huge grin on your face, the girl jumping up and down in excitement as you leaned towards her to whisper something.

He then saw the little girl run out of the bakery, clutching the box to her chest towards her mother as if it was the most precious thing in the world. When his eyes went back to you, he saw how you talked to the next customer, an old lady, with the same huge grin on your face.

He hadn't noticed that he had been staring until Steve cleared his throat, a smirk on his face. Before Steve could say something, Bucky muttered, "Stay here, let me handle this." He walks towards the stops with a calculated gaze and a perfected aura of confidence.

As he opens the door to the bakery, the smell of coffee and cookies hits him hard and a feeling of warmth engulfs him.

"How can I - " Your words die in your throat when your eyes land on the familiar figure.

Bucky could swear your smile gets wider.

You compose yourself before saying, "Hey, I know you. You are the cute guy from the other day."

Bucky frowns as he takes in your words. Cute? Did you just call him cute? He had been called intimidating, scary, and even sexy. But cute? He was furious. He was anything BUT cute. Also, was he allergic to something in the shop? Why the hell was his stomach suddenly fluttering?

He also ignores the way his heart is beating quicker at the realization that you remembered him. What was happening to him today? "I am looking for y/n l/n."

Your smile turned slightly mischievous as you replied, "That would be me."

Bucky's eyes almost widened at that. "You are y/n? The owner of the bakery?"

"Yup." You said popping the p as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "And the last I checked, introductions went both ways."

You raised your hand towards him for a handshake and after looking at your hand for a moment, he shook it. "I am B - James." For some reason, he didn't want you to know who he was. The nickname might give it away.

You smiled at him again before returning your hand, a little too early for Bucky's liking, "So, James. What can I get you?"

He had it all planned. It was like second nature to him. I want my money. Abide by the rules, you don't want to know the consequences. It was the usual. But for some reason, his mouth had gained a mind of its own as it said before he could comprehend, "Cupcakes"

You looked at the huge display of baked goods before looking back at him, "Which one?"

Bucky gave the display a glance, he was sure he hadn't ever tasted most of them. "What do you recommend, sweets?"

He watches as you are visibly taken aback by the nickname. A smirk find its way to his lips as he watched red color creeping up to your neck.

"I - uhm" You take a breath to compose yourself. Get it together. "These red velvet cupcakes just came out of the oven and they are kinda my favorite. So.." You look at Bucky with excitement in your eyes and he likes how passionate you are about your work.

"I'll take a box."

You smile at him before bending down to pack a box of the delicacy and he watches how you oh-so-gently pick up each piece before placing it inside the box with practiced precision.

When you hand over the box to him and your hands brush, you feel the sparks through your spine once again as when you had shaken hands.

When he puts a hand in his pocket to retrieve the money, you cut him off. "Don't worry about it. It's on the house."

Bucky smiles a little before replying, "Sweets, you keep giving free goods like that and you'll have to close the shop soon." He says in a teasing voice.

"I'll let you in on a secret, James." You lean towards him as if it is the most secretive thing in the world. "This is a business strategy."

He frowns a little, trying to cover the fact that he was getting too comfortable with how close the both of you were, before saying, "How's that?"

"The first order is on the house but then you come again. And again. It's really profitable."

There is this - innocence and purity in your voice that reminds him of a little child. Of old times. Easier times. And he just stares into your eyes for as long as he can, as if they could help him escape, become a portal to a time long lost.

You don't dare to move either. His eyes are the prettiest shade of blue you have ever seen. They have this intensity to them as if hiding the stories of a lifetime and you just can't get yourself to look away. You have always loved a good mystery.

Bucky clears his throat, bringing the both of you out of the daze as he brings the teasing tone back to his voice, "What makes you think I will come back?"

You chuckle a little before giving a proud smile. "Oh, you will, James. I trust my cupcakes."

He gives you another small smile as he takes a step back. This is the longest conversation he has had with a person outside his line of work in a very long time. Everybody was just too scared but he couldn't care less.

"Goodbye, sweets." He says before letting the new customer who had just entered go ahead.

"Goodbye, James. Until next time." You add with a wink.

Bucky walks out of the bakery, his initial motive forgotten completely. From the outside, he turns back to look at you for the one last time and watches as you say something that makes the teenage boy laugh while taking out cookies from the shelf.

A moment later, you look towards the window and your eyes meet for a fleeting second. You smile at him and give him a small wave.

Bucky turns around to walk towards his car when he notices Steve standing a few feet away with a knowing smirk on his face.

Bucky rolls his eyes before muttering with clenched teeth, "Don't"

Steve doesn't ask about the money and Bucky is glad. He isn't really sure how he would answer. Whatever happened wasn't what he was expecting. You weren't what he was expecting.

As he slid into the back seat of his car, the image of your smile when you were that close to him lingered in his mind and he couldn't stop the way his lips had pulled slightly upward.

When the car started driving, and with Steve on a phone call, he opened the box of cupcakes and picked one to take a small bite.

As he takes the first bite, the softness and the sweetness of the cake engulf him and leave him wanting more. He doesn't remember eating something this good in a long time.

And for many reasons, he will definitely visit again.

Next part

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gaysindistress · 2 months

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Things that I feel like would happen when you’re in a relationship with Simon Riley trauma edition

Warnings: mentions of trauma and relating effects

Simon Riley masterlist

Plain and simple, Simon Riley has trauma. He’s seen and done some unspeakable things. He’s met the grim reaper and made it beg for forgiveness as he clawed his way back to this plane of existence. He’s looked God in the face and said “fuck your plan. I’m doing things my way.”

With that comes consequences.

He has terrible nightmares most nights where he wakes up with a raw heart and covered in sweat. His throat hurts from the screaming he must have been doing while he dreamt about his family’s murders. His eyes are sore from the tears he shed when he relived being buried alive. His body aches from being in fight or flight for so long. He hurts everywhere all of the time. Most nights he can’t sleep in bed. Instead he’ll lay on the floor or the couch because it’s uncomfortable but it’s what he’s used to. He only uses a thin blanket and maybe an old pillow that’s basically cardboard. Nothing can be touching him because he immediately wakes up. No one can walk past him or the room he’s sleeping in without his eyes snapping open. He has to face the door when he sits down because he needs to be able to see if anything happens. He’s concealed carrying at all times because he feels exposed without the familiar weight of a weapon at his hip.

Loud noises and crowded places are a big fuck no. Any loud bang causes him to flinch and his eyes to twitch. Crowds leave too much room for error. When he’s with you, he will not be out into a position where he can’t protect you. If that means you don’t go to concerts or clubbing so be it.

Your blood will not stain his hands.

Physical touch is difficult for him. He has to work his way up to it. It starts with small gestures like brushing his hand against yours when you’re walking or when you’re siting down. It eventually goes to holding your fingers (not your whole hand) and gripping your knee when he’s driving. After some time he’s able to keep his hand on the small of your back while also kissing the top of your head. However do not ask this man to kiss you in when you’re around the others. He will spontaneously combust at the mere thought of them seeing him be Simon and not Ghost.

He tries therapy but at a certain point, it doesn’t seem to help. Consistency is key and he doesn’t exactly have that with his job. The other issue is that therapy is not a cure. It is a managing tool. It will not ‘fix’ whatever you feel is broken. It can help repair what needs to be mended and it’s done that for Simon. He’s repaired all that he can but the long term effects of his trauma are here to stay. He’s not going to like going out. He’s not going to be comfortable with touch. His sleeping habits will be different until he finally shuffles off this mortal coil. He’s going to be harsh and abrasive to most. He’s going to be Ghost most of the time.

He’s going to be all that is he now because it’s who he is…and you love him for it.

#simon riley x female reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost x female reader #ghost imagine #ghost call of duty #call of duty #ghost cod

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frostbitebakery · 6 months

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There’s a room where the Light won’t find you

Surrender AU

There are certain misconceptions when it comes to the… the them of them, Cody has to admit.

“I would like to have proof of life of my General,” he says instead of answering the same question the Commander has asked him twice now. The statement sits uncomfortable under his breastbone. He lost count how often he’s had to say it in his life.

“Are you that codependent,” the replica of his mouth snarks back. Curious, usually he and his counterparts have more patience than this.

The answer to that is a definite yes. Obi-Wan and he, they’re woven together. Only Obi-Wan’s lightsaber could cut them apart. He wonders where it is after they’ve taken it from its resting place above his heart.

“You’ll protect it,” Obi-Wan had asked, voice cracking and begging, closing Cody’s palms around the weapon’s hilt. It had been after Ghost had rescued them from that hellhole, after Obi-Wan’s hands had become too weak to wield his lightsaber despite the trials of reconstructive surgeries and physical therapy.

“Like your life,” Cody had sworn, lips finally not sore anymore from the ripped out stitches, the punishments from their captors that were so much more effective when delivered on Cody than Obi-Wan himself.

“I would like to have proof of life of my General,” he says again.

The Commander pushes out a sigh. “He’s… okay.”

Debatable. Cody isn’t there and no one knows - can know - how Obi-Wan’s hands spasm after a while, how his knee is acting up. How his grip on himself has been slipping, recently. The tight control even in the chaos had held steady for so long. Because even changed like this, Obi-Wan has been a master of his own self. Until they found these counterparts at least.

They’re so Light, hammers into Cody’s head.

“General Kenobi is asking him some questions himself,” the Commander states like he’s dangling bait.

Cody sincerely wishes him good luck with that. Getting an answer to “What do you want for breakfast” is a discovery of heretofore unknown wells of patience and the higher ground most days. Honey toast, by the way. “I would like to have proof of life of my General.”

Cody, they’re so Light. Obi-Wan is alone with a beacon to the Light he’s been desperately searching for in dozens of universes. He will do something well-thought-through and stupidly risky.

The Commander watches him for a few long moments, and Cody watches right back. He doesn’t smirk in triumph when the Commander activates the comm on his vambrace.

“General, could you put—,” Cody’s mouth twitches at the Commander’s faltering, the steeling for the reality of them, “the Sith on the comm?”

A moment later Obi-Wan is in the holo. Bound but whole, because the good guys don’t believe in torture. “Are you alright?” he asks, sickly golden eyes roving over what the holo displays of Cody.

Cody smiles, softening further once Obi-Wan echoes him with his own. “Yes. You?”

There’s misconceptions about them. Other people’s delusions of knowing them seem to think Obi-Wan and he can only be brutal, be cruel and harsh. Towards everyone else, and towards each other. Trapped in a bloody dance or something rivaling that kind of stupid. Those people don’t, thankfully, know the gentleness flowing through their touches. They kiss the other in reverence, soft and precious monster. What is between them, a connection forged in blood and pain, is anything but. It’s the one thing where they’re truly selfish. Holding each other close, burrowed into each other.

When Obi-Wan had asked him what he wants, the answer had been simple and sprouting thorns.

“You,” Cody had answered, sure and steadfast.

Obi-Wan had almost flinched, cane scraping over the floor. “Even as I am now?”

Always. At every second their lives had existed in orbit to each other. Every possible face Obi-Wan had worn, Cody had wanted him. But— “I think,” he had replied, stroking the paper-thin grey skin under a yellow eye, “this is the only version I’m allowed to have.”

“I miss you,” Obi-Wan says on the holo, and Cody goes cold.

“Obi-Wan, don’t—“

The connection winks out and he knows that it was Obi-Wan, that the Force suppression cuffs must have some fault he detected and exploited.

He whips his head up, urgency clocking in inside his chest and ticking. “Stun him,” he grits out, just to not yell, and startles the Commander. “Make him unconscious any way necessary.” He swallows. “But please don’t kill him.” I need him.

#surrender au #codywan #commander cody #dark!cody #obi wan kenobi #sith!obi wan #my art #frostbitebakery art #sw fanart #star wars au

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originalaccountname · 1 year

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I made some funny comics a little while ago about the potential effects of Fukuzawa's ability on Chuuya's, and how it perhaps could make it revert to a pre-Arahabaki state.

I realized later that some of you lack the context for where that came from, and that I might be creating confusion, so this is a (hopefully) comprehensive walkthrough of things we learned in Storm Bringer that lead to this conclusion.

tldr; The lab created "Arahabaki" by manipulating an ability into a destructive force. That ability existed before the lab, and the nature of that ability is heavily implied to be the power to enhance other abilities through touch.

Explanation and sources below (so you can judge yourself) ⬇

- spoiler warning for Storm Bringer, hopefully written in a way that you'd understand even if you haven't read it yet -

In Storm Bringer, Chuuya meets the scientist that was responsible for Project Arahabaki, Professor N.

Project Arahabaki, N explains, was the Japanese government's secret project to create an ability singularity they could have control over and freely use as a weapon.

What are singularities? Singularities are what happens when abilities clash in specific ways and create a new, unforeseen reaction. The easiest way to create a singularity is to pit two contradictory abilities against each other to create a paradox; examples included the ability to always deceive and the ability to always perceive the truth, and to have two ability users who can see into the future (*coughs* Oda and Gide) try to one-up each other. The result is usually much more powerful than the original abilities on their own.

Some singularities are said to have been explained as god-like interventions, because of their often destructive nature. This is what inspired the name "Arahabaki", after the mythical being (here's a post of the subject and I'll it link at the end too) These events are described as very rare.

Like mentioned in that passage, there is another way to create a singularity: to have a single ability user use their ability in a way that contradicts itself. This is what the lab was trying to do.

For that explanation, Professor N gives an example. He first shows a video of a child, whose face is hidden from the camera, holding a coin (described as having a certain melancoly to it), with a moon and a fox engraved on it. The video is from one of the lab's tests. The child is made to recite some activation lines, which are directly taken from one of Nakahara Chuuya's poems, Upon the Tainted Sorrow (which does mentions a fox, as a fun fact).

The coin then starts glowing, the glow turns into a black mass, and from there the experimentation goes bad: the coin starts attracting things and absorbing them, the space gets distorted, the child's vitals flatline, panic spreads and someone calls for an emergency stop, we hear a scream. The video ends.

N explains that the child in the video had the ability to enhance the ability of others. That child then used that ability on themselves, effectively enhancing the enhancement which enhanced the enhancing, in an infinite loop. That loop created a lot of energy; the surplus of energy was so intense its mass deformed space (physics!) and it created a black hole.

Here's where it gets tricky: N claims that child died during that accident, that the child was absorbed by the black hole created by their ability. We never actually learn their identity.

But N is a lying liar who lies; he said about one and a half truths the entire book. The only reason he was telling them any of this was that he thought he'd get rid of all of them within the next few minutes. His objective was always to regain control over Chuuya, his pet project.

Plus, during the epilogue, we learn that Chuuya was assumed to have died during the war. That's what his parents think. That's what is officially recorded.

Furthermore.

Project Arahabaki was based off French research papers; someone else had done this kind of experimentation before, and their result was Verlaine.

Verlaine's gravity-manipulation is a singularity. Better yet: Verlaine also has a Corruption state, named Brutalization. Their abilities are the same, because the lab copied the techniques that were used to create Verlaine when they worked on Chuuya.

Here's a passage of Dazai nullifying Corruption, at the very end of SB:

"The self-contradicting skill, which was supporting the energy of a singularity". This passage confirms that the source of Chuuya's ability is, in fact, like the child's and Verlaine's, if any doubts remained. "[...] weakening the singularity's output. It wasn't long before it returned to its normal state, and the Gate closed." The Gate refers to releasing Arahabaki, it's basically a limiter, just like the passage above when talking about Brutalization. When Dazai nullifies Corruption, he gives that limiter the opportunity to come back and seal Chuuya's power away again, but does not stop the singularity, only allows it to go back to its stable state.

From all that, we can say that Chuuya's ability wasn't always gravity manipulation, but that it was another, unconfirmed ability that was exploited in such a way that it became a permanent, stable singularity that allowed him to have control over gravity.

Bullet point recap:

Chuuya's gravity manipulation comes from a singularity, like Verlaine, like that child;

You need a self-referencing/self-contradicting ability to create that singularity;

Such an event is rare;

There is a substantial amount of time spent describing a "random" child that was experimented on during the war;

That child created a black hole through their singularity;

That singularity was activated using a passage from Nakahara Chuuya's poems, while holding a coin that references it;

That child supposedly died;

Chuuya's parents think he died during the war;

N is a pathological liar with an agenda.

So no, there is no "confirmation" that Chuuya's ability was ability enhancement before the lab took him. But an author writes a story with an intent, so I am asking what Asagiri's intent was when writing all this, and if perhaps we weren't indirectly given the answer already.

What is Arahabaki (Fifteen and Storm Bringer lore, with too many citations)

My own perceived timeline of the true events behind Storm Bringer (was originally gonna be part of this part, also with too many citations)

#the dazai parallels are a nice little bonus because we KNOW chuuya as a character was designed to match dazai #he was most literally designed to go with him and contrast him #but that's meta analysis so i didn't include it in the actual post with the rest of the textual evidence #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bsd analysis #bsd theory #bsd meta #bsd chuuya #bsd nakahara chuuya #bsd storm bringer #bsd stormbringer #stormbringer #storm bringer #i'll reblog this to my art blog tomorrow so the people most concerned have more of a chance of seeing it #apparently i talk sometimes

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luvsellie · 1 year

Text

THE ATTRACTIVE THINGS JJ MAYBANK DOES

calls you a plethora of nicknames. he is a nickname kind of guy, i don’t make the rules! whether he is in the mood to tease or just simply acknowledge you, nicknames are his way of going at it. jj enjoys the way you roll your eyes and look away, slightly annoyed at him (and the butterflies that erupt in the pit of your stomach). he started doing it as a joke, but after a while, it just stuck. his favorites are definitely baby, pretty girl, and princess.

he does not hesitate to take the blame for you. with you being one of the most, if not the most, important thing in his life, he would much rather take the fall for something you did than have you face the consequences. even if it is something incredibly small, he’ll gladly take a step forward for your sake.

lets you fiddle with his rings. as a ring girlie myself, i will fight anyone and everyone who objects to this headcanon. when you’re bored in class, tired of listening to mr. sunn drone on and on about some history lesson, jj will pick up on your weariness and just offer you his hand. and, of course, you happily toy with the rings on his splayed fingers, spinning the jewelry that reflects daylight from the classroom windows. you can’t help but enjoy the warmth of his palm under your touch, forever content running your fingers over the smoothed out calluses and warm metal.

wears sleeveless shirts under your request. knowing you have quite the obsession with his arms (as you should), he likes to show them off. when he wears muscle tees or wife-beaters he is always sure to be extra smug about it, often wrapping his strong arms around your waist and shoulders. occasionally, when you’re feeling a little bolder than normal, you’ll even take the initiative of linking his elbow with yours as the two of you either walk or simply just stand side by side, not missing the opportunity to have his tanned skin against yours, bicep within your hold.

is the “wear whatever you want, i can fight” type of boyfriend. jj loves seeing you in provocative and revealing clothing (not including a bathing suit). whether you wear it often or not, you can count on the fact that he will immediately rush to tell you how gorgeous you are, his eyes bright and lips pulled into a flirtatious smile. “you look nice, baby.” the expression on his face always tell you he’s thinking you look more than just ‘nice,’ but you let his hidden yet obviously dirty thoughts slide. however, if someone else makes comments, or their eyes stay glued to somewhere they shouldn’t, jj is quick to give a warning. whether they choose to listen or not is up to them, but god help the motherfucker who decides to give not just give you a hard time, but also him.

shares his hobbies with you and vice versa. one of his love languages is quality time, and seeing you enjoy the same things he does instantly puts a smile on his face. additionally, if you want to take the time and teach him about some of your own hobbies, this man will do anything in his power to get good at it. you both like the closeness and intimacy of being somewhat vulnerable with each other.

open to hugs at any given point in time. his hugs are just…out of this world. you like the way time just seems to pause, even if it’s only for a second, the moment his front is pressed against yours. and the way he holds you—as if you are both the sturdiest and most fragile thing in the universe. his hugs make your heart beat wildly, and you’re certain there are times when he can feel it thumping against his own. the feeling of being swallowed by his existence makes everything just seem utterly complete. and this includes back hugs; jj is an enormous fan of these. the familiarity of your body against his, while he is able to be working on another task, is such a heavenly concept to him. multitasking, am i right?

is always there, ready to protect you at a moment’s notice. whether it be physical or verbal, you can count on your lovely boyfriend to be right by your side the moment something goes south. while he will gladly let you handle a situation on your own, the moment you send him a look he will happily step in and defend you. if the problem turns into something more dangerous, and more than a verbal assault, he’ll rush in without consulting you about it first. he would rather you be okay and mad at him than hurt and full of regret.

does things just to see you happy (but also contradicts you just to be annoying). being the way that he is, jj will always be a vexing combination of charming and irritating. he loves to see you happy and will do anything to get even the slightest grin on your face, but that also means he loves to annoy the absolute fuck out of you just for kicks. if you are trying to study for school or do something alone in a quiet space, he is there to make the one-person job a two-person job. will not take ‘no’ or ‘go away’ as an answer when it comes to being around you.

#my fav himbo #i wanna be his badass maneater gf #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj x reader #jj x you #jj x y/n #jj maybank x you #outer banks #obx #obx x reader #obx fanfiction #obx headcanon #jj headcanons #outer banks x reader #outer banks x you

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ivesambrose · 1 year

Text

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 💋

1. 2. 3.

Applicable to your future spouse/soulmate/partner ❤️ we're all connected either way xo

To book a personal reading with me DM or email me at [email protected] with your name and query 🌙

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Picture 1 (red rose bouquet)

I heard the lines, "I've got a burning desire for you baby." From that Lana Del Rey song.

You look sweet, soft spoken, well mannered, adorable, probably like a squishmallow to them and yet you can pretty much kick someone's ass if needed. You give them a, "looks like a cinnamon roll, could probably kill you." Vibe.

In their eyes your beauty not only lies in your face but also your determination, passion, it's about drive it's about power we go hungry we devour.

You're equal parts free spirited and equal parts razor sharp. Sometimes you just know exactly what to say, when to call someone out and when to be more compassionate.

You come off like an open book but it seems far from the truth, there are parts of you so hidden they crave to know yet can't help but be magnetized by the allure. So if you wish, they'd let you keep your secrets as long as you have an honest heart towards them.

Your magnetism, charm, beauty, loyalty, intuition, sensuality, voice, eye for aesthetics, literally everything is what sets you apart in their eyes. They know nobody can replicate the essence you have they wouldn't care anyway.

Picture 2 (colas with cherry)

Something about you is so eccentric they can't put a finger on it even if it's almost obvious. Your mind, body, face, hair, even your language. Could very well be that you have a cultural difference between them.

"they know so much, they know too way too much. I'm actually turned on."

You likely educate yourself a lot on different topics, different cultures, might be a polyglot too. You may have the most strange yet straightforward take on things, you could literally dip chips in icecream and eat them and honestly, they love it.

They love how weird you are in the best ways possible and they never want you to change.

They also see the side of you that can give really practical advice and be super caring and observant. They also really love the way you put certain outfits together or just your aesthetic in general.

They think of you when the most peculiar thing pops up like, "oh look a fruit bat. You know how likes fruit bats?" "Oh *insert name* would have liked this flower." "They would have loved to visit this place with me!"

If and when they're apart from you they think of how anyone would love to get close to you and honestly they get a little jealous.

Little snippets of you exists in their everyday life and more.

Your outlook, your perspectives, differences, your body language, facial features, feisty spirit, knowledge, assertiveness and "Ya I got this!" Attitude sets you apart in their eyes.

Picture 3 (strawberries dipped in cream)

You know that song by Isabel Rosa "you're so pretty it hurts, baby I'm yours..." That came to my mind.

You've gone through a lot of pain, you likely mask that with humour or channel them into your creativity, you're rather jovial, full of life and idiosyncraticities but underneath that you've gone through deep loss and turmoil. But you haven't let that make you a bitter person.

You're healing and yet you heal anyone you come in touch with. Honestly my chest feels heavy and my throat is tight, they want to hold you and just make you pain vanish.

They see you as being a lot stronger than them emotionally and mentally. They know you wouldn't judge them harshly and that being around you feels perfectly harmonious.

You're irreplaceable.

They're aware sometimes you need your space but regardless they want to be at arms reach for you.

Your faith in yourself and whatever you believe in, your goals big or small, your friendliness, your humanity, playfulness and creativity is what sets you apart in their eyes.

#free readings #tarot community #divination community #pick a card #PAC #pac tarot #pick a picture #pick a card reading

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soap-ify · 4 months

Note

can I ask for some general fluff headcanons for our soapy boy?

AT YOUR SERVICE ANON!! i don't usually do hcs but i wanted an excuse to ramble about him. so i present you soap hcs that start off as general but gets oddly specific!

cw — very fluffy and mildly suggestive at some places.

˙ᵕ˙ (not so) general soap hcs !

the most widely known thing is that johnny is clingy as hell. annoying but you really wouldn’t have it any other way. he is always holding onto you tight, never letting you go even if you’re desperate to get out of the bed for a shower or some breakfast. the only time he’d sometimes let you go is when you’re running late for work. he likes having his arm around your waist all the time, nuzzling his head into your neck and smothering you with kisses without any shame in front of others, especially the taskforce. is this his weird little way of marking you? maybe.

very open about how much he loves you. he’s always speaking his mind, telling you about every single thing he loves about you, all your quirks and habits.

can’t imagine this man ever being a cheater. i imagine him being raised by his mother quite well, and god forbid if he ever cheats, his mother is going to be so angry. he has been taught to treat his lovers in the best manner possible. and so he does. even if he is very playful and just awful at courting, always too eager, he still buys you lots of flowers and takes you on dates, giving you all the love that he has.

he likes hugging your leg. like actually. you’re laying down? he’s beneath you, arms wrapped around your legs, hugging it tight while his face is resting on your upper thigh. he can’t even explain why he does it.

he LOVES it when you press kisses on his crows feet. the same thing with the scar on his chin!

this man watched blade runner 2049 once and had an identity crisis for a whole week. you were concerned.

there is this very specific type of french fries that he likes with certain toppings that he can’t really find in any other fast food place and it annoys him to hell.

he begs you to match with him. it can be from watches that come in pairs for couples or maybe keychains! just match with him or else he’ll be pouty for the whole week.

once when johnny was drunk, he showed you his huge art journal. you weren’t even surprised to know that more than half of the pages were just drawings of you.

johnny loves having strangely deep and philosophical conversations with you late at night. sometimes he just can’t sleep, feeling too active and energetic. if you are luckily awake too, be prepared to question the meaning of life and the existence of everything around you both with him.

he is so disgusting when it comes to sending gym pics (you love it). all flushed and glistening with sweat, he’d be sending your mirror selfies while flexing his muscles, a proud happy grin always adorning your looks.

has a mole on his inner thigh and on his right shoulder! you love kissing them so much.

he bites. hide before he bites your tummy.

he loves taking you to snowy mountains and showing you around his homeland! expect to be attacked with lots of snowballs by him, he really doesn’t show any mercy.

loves drawing on your thighs if you’d let him. he would grab a marker or a paintbrush, drawing pretty things on your skin, loving the way you would giggle at the ticklish feeling. he might accidentally touch your other ticklish spots too just to hear you laugh.

i am a firm believer of johnny having sisters and being the only son in the family! he’d take you to meet his family once, and his sisters showed you all of his childhood pictures while telling you of his silly actions, all while johnny was in the back, face all red.

he can knit! learnt it from his eldest sister. he likes knitting you sweaters or gloves, always choosing your favourite colour.

#anon im sorry if i overdid it I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT HIM!!#he has a whole house in my head at this point #he lives there permanently #soap x reader #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap mw2 #cod x reader #cod fluff #call of duty #ruru mail

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teainthesnow · 8 months

Text

@somerandomdudelmao is giving me emotions again so time to give some back...

- - -

It’s over.

it’s finally over.

Or, he thinks, with a shuddering breath and numb agony, that it will be over soon.

So he lies there, breathing in the dust and ash, and the sour taste of all that was lost, of the embers of a dying world, filling his mouth.

It would...

It would all be okay now.

He inhales.

And tries not to be scared by what comes next.

But, vaguely, distantly, as he slips further and further into numb acceptance he feels a presence, a familiar warmth blanketing him. Warm hands touch his shoulder feeling fiercely protective but tinged with fear.

It’s okay, he whispers but he’s certain the words come about as nothing more than a senseless whisper, if they even make it out at all.

But...

It’ll be okay.

It’s time.

He’s ready for the next step.

To face his ancestors, friends, family, and brothers.

And hopefully that meant all three of them.

He exhales.

And falls into the darkness.

But the darkness parts around him.

His thoughts swirl into a blurry haze, slipping from him before he can truly comprehend them or the things around him.

All he knows is this is wrong... he shouldn’t... he thought...

Wasn’t it supposed to be over now?

Not... not this incoherent haze of a life where the only comfort his can find is in the soft fluttering traces of red and purple.

So he hides; feeling scared and alone and wondering why this is his fate, why he has been cursed to stay isolated and away from those he cares about.

He is so tired, so exhausted.

Barely clinging on to the last of his strength even though he isn’t truly sure why he does so.

There’s something whispering, begging, cheering for him to keep going.

To hold on.

Something – or perhaps someone – calling his name, voice laced with a pleading desperation.

But

all he can do

slip

further

down.

And then something shifts through the fog.

The world tilts on its axis.

The is a fire surrounding him, burning away the encroaching darkness that he had been so willing to accept.

No, he pleads, reaching a desperate hand outwards.

Let me go.

Please.

Let me go home.

The fire, the warmth, the two flames do not listen as they cling tightly onto him, dragging him forcefully along with them.

Please.

And then the fire vanishes just as quickly as it had appeared, leaving him weak and fading once more.

But then the static clings to him, trapping him, keeping him from fading, from moving on.

There is a comforting presence within the electricity, similar to the warm flames, but slightly different.

Familiar yet somehow unfamiliar at the same time.

There is something within the sensation that makes him pause and hesitate.

All he can feel is a weird mix of worry, relief, and unwavering determination.

He almost stops fighting.

But he can’t.

This isn’t-

He isn’t home.

He needs to go home.

So he fights against the static, against the energy it gives him.

Against those soft thoughts of you’re safe, please stop fighting, let me- let us help you.

But that wouldn’t be fair, would it?

Did he really deserve peace when they weren’t here?

He just wanted to see them again.

(Even though the whispers tried to convince him that they were already there because it didn’t make sense.)

So whenever he can he fights.

He runs.

But the static, the flames, keep finding him.

Keep holding him protectively within their embrace.

(keeping him safe)

Keeping him trapped.

(keeping him alive)

Keeping him away from home.

(giving him strength to keep himself alive)

In this fog-filled limbo that his existence has become.

And then.

Finally.

Something changes.

And.

He.

Falls.

Again.

He blinks open his eyes.

Confused and disorientated and still not quite fully himself.

He feels...

Empty.

Perhaps.

Nothing but a fragile reflection of who he was, of who he will be.

Hollow.

Lonely.

And lost in the vast empty darkness.

Empty, he realises slowly through sludge filled thought, but not silent.

There’s a voice shouting in the distance.

Muffled and incoherent but definitely there.

He looks around.

Suddenly desperate.

Overcome with the desire to find the voice.

To find-

He looks down at his reflection.

But it isn’t *his* reflection.

Maybe *he’s* the reflection.

Forced to echo, to copy.

He’s yelling at himself.

...isn’t he?

But then a hand reaches through the mirror and grabs hold of his scarf.

Pulling him upwards and through the once solid surface and the voice, the familiar and unfamiliar voice, becomes clear.

Becomes understandable.

And awareness washes over him.

The ‘anger’ leaves.

All he has left is a numb confusion and a growing hope.

And then he is falling again.

He blinks.

Awareness comes back to him slowly.

His vision slowly fading back into clarity.

And his first coherent thought is to be annoyed by a constant tap, tap, tap, of a keyboard being used.

He tiredly shifts to locate the source of the noise and sees Donnie tapping away, focused solely on his task.

Then that thought processes.

To See... Donnie... tapping away?

...Donnie?

And the tiredness immediately drops away as he reaches out desperately, hopefully.

And then he falls out of the bed with a thump.

But there are hands on him, gently picking him up, embracing him, words nothing but a murmured blur as reality drips into comprehension.

It can’t...

This can’t...

He is so overwhelmed, so utterly lost, he can only sit there as Donnie fusses around him, voice tinged with anger.

No... he realises, as a smile begins to creep upon his face and tears well up in the corner of his eyes, not anger.

Worry.

But he can’t let himself relax yet.

This is too good to be true.

Is this really truly real?

“D-Donnie?” He asks voice wavering and tinged with a fear he cannot hold back.

And when Donnie (and he hopes, really desperately hopes that it is) keeps fussing he reaches forward and takes hold of a flailing hand.

It’s... it’s warm.

The tears are there again, now dripping unbidden down his face.

“You’re real.”

The wrist within his grasp is solid and warm, and strong.

“You’re real!”

Not thin and weak and rattled with tremors.

But...

“Are you?”

He tentatively asks, scared for the truth but hoping against everything for the best.

That Donnie – his brother, his beloved twin is here.

And then Donnie soothes his fears, tells him the truth, the amazing, almost unbelievable truth.

He cannot stop the tears.

Does not want to stop the tears.

This is...

This is everything he had hoped for.

And the tears that drip, drip, drip down his face are no longer tears of pain and fear and utter sadness but those of hope and joy and the understanding that this is it.

There is a warmth surrounding him.

A hug, he slowly realises.

A hug he thought he’d never receive again.

The trickle of tears becomes a torrent. He cannot hold back, nor does he want to. The relief hits him like a sledgehammer as he clings desperately to the brother he never thought he would see again.

Crying loudly and unashamedly.

This is...

He chokes back the sobs once they calm slightly.

And cracks probably the best (worse) joke he’s made in a while.

And laughter is his reward.

There is a warmth swelling within him, a calmness, and a happiness he had thought unachievable as he and his amazingly alive brother share their joy with each other once again.

And then Donnie passes out.

Gently, carefully, he sets him down, noting the rise and fall of his plastron but he still presses a cautious hand to his brothers neck.

And sighs with relief at the comforting and steady

thump

of a healthy heartbeat.

He exhales in relief.

It’s okay.

A weight lifts off his shoulders as he raises a hand to his own neck feeling the very proof the he too is alive and healthy.

And that is when it really truly begins to sink in.

Despite his confusion. Despite having not even the smallest idea of how he got here, of how he’s alive.

Of how Donnie is alive when even his spirit...

He takes in a soothing breath, shakes the thoughts out of his head, and focuses on the good that he can find.

Because.

It’s over

It’s finally over.

But, he pauses, as he takes in his surroundings and processes what just happened.

To breathe in the clean air.

To enjoy the steady beating of their heartbeats.

To think he’s alive, they’re both alive.

So...

Maybe...

Hopefully...

...it’s only just begun.

#cass apocalyptic series #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #cass fanart tag #tmnt #rise fanfic #tarts&crafts #I've been wanting to write this for ages but wanted to wait until the leo donnie reunion #so here is finally is #god i love this series so much #agskwklwmwnwnej #disaster twins #future leo

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bby-deerling · 3 months

Text

two ghosts (sanji x reader nsfw)

sanji almost lets you slip between his fingers...

18+, mdni, nsfw wc: 1.9k masterlist

cw: afab!fem!reader, angst, hurt/comfort, almost breaking up, make up sex, emotional roller coaster, intimate and needy sex

tagging: @sanjisjuul @pileofmush @kibblz-n-bitz (thanks for sitting in call with me while i wrote this!)

The silence that hung in the sticky, evening air was palpable; it was heavy, hot, and suffocating. Sanji wonders if you can feel the tension, the push and pull of the tether that binds you with every passing breath. The orange sunset casts into the kitchen, illuminating the frosting smeared across your cheek as you pipe, deep in focus. He’d taught you everything you needed to know about baking, icing, and proper presentation ages ago; quiet evenings like this used to be highlighted by your laughter, quick banter, and loving touches. Now, despite the warmth of the light passing through the window, it was cold, empty, and sterile.

Things were different before, when everything was green and easy, and each day was filled with the thrill of limerence and the novelty of learning each other. And then, suddenly, two years had passed, and the threads tying the two of you together became frayed, weathered and torn. Once, the icing smeared across your cheek would have been teasingly lapped up by his tongue—now, it stays in place until your thumb absentmindedly swipes away the buttercream, a distant expression in your eyes.

Maybe if he was more pragmatic like Zoro, he would have thought things through before acting on his feelings. Perhaps he would have waited before confessing him feelings until he was certain this would last, but he wasn’t—Sanji fell hard, loved hard, and the feeling of the fondness he has for you slipping through his fingers was hard for him. It’s so difficult for him to stare at you from across the kitchen as you stare him down, your gaze hollow and hurt.

“Sanji, what’s wrong?” you ask, voice shaky and quivering; his heart drops when he realizes you’ve likely been working up the courage to voice your concerns to him for some time. He had spent many sleepless nights agonizing over the way you seemingly hadn’t noticed his shift in behavior—the fact that you not only had, but were too afraid to confront him about it made the pain sting more.

“It’s nothing for you to worry about, dear.” he lies. The hoarseness in his voice gives him away, and your wide doe eyes are wounded from his audacity to swallow down his problems and push you away.

Your nails dig into your forearm, coating them in powdered sugar and nearly drawing blood. “Please stop lying to me. I can take it.” you whisper, defeated. The tears pricking at the corners of your eyes are silent, but Sanji swears he can hear the wail of your cries echoing in the air.

Meeting your stare is too difficult, so he opts to stare at the floor as he chooses his next words with caution and care. “Things aren’t like they used to be, angel. Surely you’ve noticed it too.” he says, voice raspy and threatening to break.

Now you’re the one who cannot bear to meet his eyes, and you swallow hard as you try to regain control over your breathing—it’s difficult when Sanji is standing across the kitchen from you, turning the tension-heavy conversation into a western standoff. “What did I do wrong, Sanji? How did I drive you away?” you ask, holding back sobs as your body begins to shake.

“Nothing, dear. Nothing at all. We’re simply changed, and—” he starts, with more conviction that he imagined himself having, until you interrupt him.

“Are you giving up, Sanji?” you choke out. It’s angry, and it’s frustrated, and it’s a plea for him to reconsider without resorting to dropping to your knees and begging—it’s a desperate attempt to stop him from finishing his sentence and going too far by speaking it into existence.

Sanji is frozen in place, his sky-blue eyes swirling as his resolve wavers. Seeing the way he’s turning you into a broken mess stalls the motion in his chest and makes him look at you—truly look at you for the first time today. Though your eyes are puffy and watery, your cheeks are rosy, and all the beautiful qualities of both your countenance and your aura radiate from you; all of a sudden it’s like he’s seeing you for the first time all over again.

“No, love.” he whispers, voice as soft and light as a feather. “I want to fix things, if you’ll have me.”

The pause before you speak is physically painful for Sanji to bear, though he knows he deserves it after twisting a knife through your chest only to pull it out and bandage you up right as you’re on the brink of death.

“Of course I’ll have you, Sanji. I need you.” you reply, fatigued and exhausted from the push and pull. He can’t hold back from comforting you any longer, and strides towards you; as he reaches you, he clasps his clammy, heated hands around yours, and presses frantic, heated kisses onto your forehead.

“I’m sorry, angel… I’m so sorry…” he whispers, silently vowing to change, to amend all the behaviors that had led him to this point. He was honest when he said you had done nothing to push him away; he was simply unappreciative of everything in front of him, everything that had drawn you to him in an unrelenting frenzy when he first laid eyes on you. He had taken you for granted, and was willing to spend the rest of his life atoning for it as long as he wouldn’t have to be deprived from the warmth of your gaze for the rest of his days.

You don’t tell him it’s okay, or I forgive you—it’s not, and you don’t—but you love him desperately and crave him more than your lungs need air; shaky fingers find the sides of his face, and gentle, soft thumbs brush away his tears as your lips press into his. The kiss is sloppy, and passionate, and full of tongues as you frantically devour one another—as if this kiss would be the last, though you both vowed it wouldn’t be.

“I love you Sanji, please don’t let me go.” you plead as you break away, burying your face into his chest. His cotton dress shirt becomes soaked with the dampness of your tears, and he holds you so close that three out of place vertebrae in your spine click back into place with a loud pop.

“Never. I’ll never leave you, angel.” he whispers, moving his hand upward, tracing along your upper arms towards your jawline. Though he intends to be soft with you, he can’t help the way he pins your back against the counter with both power and intent to prove his devotion—to physically bind himself to you and seal his promise to stay, to be better. His hands are in your hair, his tongue is deep in your mouth, and his knee is slotted between your legs; you let out a weak whimper against his lips as your hips grind on his thigh for more friction, and the sound makes him dizzy, crazed, and hungry.

Sanji knows he should drop to his knees and pray; he should be worshipping at the altar of the goddess he’d blasphemed, but he lets a rare fit of selfishness consume him. As he feels your arousal soak both your panties and the leg of his trousers, Sanji lets out a groan against your lips and feels the overwhelming urge to bury himself in the ecstasy of your walls.

“Up on the counter, dear.” he murmurs lowly, rubbing gentle circles with his thumbs into your hips. Once you comply, he tilts your head to the side and smothers the column of your neck in heated love bites, licking over each indent of his teeth in your skin with his slick tongue. His hand starts stroking your sensitive clit through your panties, but in an uncommon stroke of impatience, he slides them to the side and sinks two fingers into you; the gasp you let out is sharp, needy, and full of wanting as he scissors his fingers inside of you, spreading you wide open for him.

He pulls his digits from you and licks them clean, smirking at the way the sight makes you let out a breathy sigh. Sanji swiftly removes his belt as you watch him spring his cock free; your body is steeped in anticipation as he gingerly pulls you in for a kiss with one hand, and slides his cock along your weeping slit with another. It’s not long before his tip is just as soaked as you are, and his length slips into you with one quick motion. Sensual moans fall from both your mouths, only to be muffled by your messy, sloppy liplock as he snaps his hips against yours.

He's frenzied, and insatiable, setting a harsher pace than you’re used to as he ruts into you. Though it was his own folly, his own foolish behavior that almost led him to letting you go, he had almost lost you all the same, and felt a need to claim you, feel you, and knead the soft, plush skin of your thigh while he presses heated circles into your clit. The tip of his head brushes against your sweet spot and causes your head to tip back in ecstasy; the line of drool that keeps your mouths connected spurs him to give you more, give you all of him, and give you everything.

You’re hot and twitching in his grasp, nearly undone as he rocks your hips in rhythm with his. Pants and whines and blabbers of nonsense escape your lips as you get so close, but you needed help rising over the crest; Sanji’s deft fingers have memorized each favored and pleasurable motion and ministration better than your own could ever dream of doing, and he groans with satisfaction as a bit more pressure on your clit gets you to fall apart around him.

“Let go for me, angel… Fuck, you’re doing so well.” he praises as you let out a needy cry, your walls fluttering around him. Your whimpers are heady as heat pools in your face, and the shockwaves racing throughout your body are tamped by the way his arm snakes around you, pulling you close as he buries his nose in your hair. The way you clench around him so tightly makes him not far behind, seeing black as he rocks himself into your spent body with white hot need.

The moments after your climaxes subside are stretched for an eternity, as both of you mumble a barely audible I love you into each other’s skin. His pulse felt reanimated under your touch, as if for the past few weeks he had been someone else, not quite living and not quite dead; his limbs entangle with yours, and his head buries into your shoulder, coating it with the remnants of his damp, salty tears. Unable to hold back sobs of your own, your body shakes and heaves as droplets splatter against his collarbone. Promises and apologies flow like like wine from swollen and blubbering lips, and when Sanji cups the side of your face, gingerly tilting your head up to look at him, he sees a light hidden behind the raw, aching pain in your eyes—a sign of life.

He had found your heartbeat, pounding under his touch, and he promises himself to never lose sight of it again.

#one piece x reader #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #black leg sanji x reader #sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji x you #sanji x y/n #sanji smut #one piece smut #one piece fanfiction #vinsmoke sanji #sanji #x reader

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gatitties · 6 months

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Hi can you do yandere bonten (separately where their s/o (who knows they’re a yandere and gose a long with.) is being targeted by another gang. ( Trying to kill them and shit) and on day they see a red dot on their s/o forehead. (Coming from a laser on a gun) and then there’s gunshots everywhere. Do they manage to tackle their s/o on those and save them? ( you can pick) and what do they do to rival gang when they find them?

─Yandere!Bonten x reader (separately)

─Summary: a moment in which your life is threatened, a moment of despair for these boys

─Warnings: death, blood, mention of drugs, toxic behaivors, yandere stuff

─ It was very strange to go from not being noticed socially to having a psychopath holding your waist every second of your existence.

─ You knew that his behaviors went beyond a toxic and controlling partner, perhaps because you were aware that you knew how to cope with it in a certain way, in any case accepting his madness made many things easier, it was better to be on Mikey's good side.

─ That you were docile could only improve Mikey's condition, although sometimes it was like dealing with a capricious child, you had to at least pretend not to be uncomfortable twenty-four hours a day stuck to him in any way.

─ Although there are situations in which due to certain circumstances he needs to move away from you, it will bother him even if it is a few seconds in which he has to greet someone important, but he will always have a part of his body attached to you, whether it's his hand on your shoulder or his knee touching yours, he needs to make sure that you won't vanish out of nowhere even though it's physically impossible.

─ In the event that your life was threatened for just a measly second, it was like starting a war.

─ You didn't even know what happened before his body locked you against the floor and dragged you under one of the tables.

─ You were at a dinner with some executives and out of nowhere you found yourself being suffocated by Mikey on the floor listening to a lot of guns and screams.

─ He knew that he had enemies around every corner, but he didn't know that they were stupid enough to point a gun directly at you, at his most precious being.

─ You were lucky that he was able to react in time due to his constant fixation on always having you by his side, if it weren't for his mania perhaps your destiny would have been different.

─ Although unfortunately this event reduced your time outdoors, at least until Mikey wiped out each and every one of those involved in your near-death.

─ It wasn't a good start because it started with your kidnapping.

─ But perhaps the effect of narcotics on your body was what made you stop fighting against someone who had more power than you in society, you were condemned and you accepted it.

─ Sanzu doesn't care enough not to traumatize you and you have to get used to the fact that every time he takes you somewhere someone ends up dead because of him.

─ He doesn't require so much continuous physical contact, however whenever he wants it you will have to be on his lap without any complaints, you learned the hard way that it was better to listen the first time he wants something.

─ You're his little toy and everyone knows it, maybe, too many people know who you 'belong' to and that caught the attention of a certain gang that Sanzu had previously had problems with.

─ That's why the moment when you find yourself in a brothel having a drink with Sanzu and the Haitani brothers and a red dot forms on your forehead is not surprising to him.

─ It was the lack of reaction, the mental block and the speed with which the murder happened, it was a clean shot, your blood splashed on his stupefied face and he couldn't even catch your body before you collapsed against the elegant sofa.

─ It broke him, not the fact of your death, but the fact that another person had played with the life of his obsession, his new toy, and maybe he didn't accept so easily that you were dead, maybe he kept your inert body in his bed, your pajamas on as if it were just another ordinary night.

─ To say he was a disaster (even more) was an understatement, he was going to find those bastards and going to torture them while 'you' watched, hoping that it would entertain you, at least this time you would look and not look away like all those other times.

─ He's probably one of the most normal, if it's normal to be harassed for months and have 'unintentional' encounters with Kakucho all the time.

─ Kakucho was more of an observer and stayed in the background, he knew that his obsession was not a good thing, but at least he accepted that he was aware of it and that you would have to accept him.

─ No matter how much you ran away, what you did, you always had his eyes on your figure, you were a kind of divinity for him and he didn't even want to do anything perverse, he wanted to love you. Was he asking for much? Well, he could always resort to other methods anyway, if he wanted something, he had the power to get it.

─ He didn't ask for much, he just wanted you, and he became so sincere as to confess to you everything he had been doing, everything he would do if you agreed to be with him by hook and by crook.

─ He's not very good with romantic relationships if his last option is a threat, but you decided to take the easy way out and accept all his madness towards you.

─ He was too paranoid to let you go out on your own, to do anything without his supervision, he had lost Izana a long time ago and it was too painful and traumatic for him to happen to you.

─ It's quite rare that your life is threatened because you practically don't leave your safe place, but like any good gentleman, he always has some romantic plan for two and that means going out from time to time.

─ Don't worry, the second that red dot is on your forehead you were probably protected by a mass of muscles from several bodyguards and immediately guided out along with Kakucho.

─ He will not personally be in charge of finding and killing the gang that was behind the attempt on your life, but he will know when they are all three meters underground, which will be sooner rather than later.

─ Oh poor thing, did you really think you could escape his clutches once he met you and became infatuated with you? That's sweet of you, but Takeomi already has you under the palm of his hand without you knowing it.

─ You noticed each of his manipulation tricks and his strange fixation on you, he laughed knowing how perceptive you were and admitted to you that he had not been able to get you out of his mind since the first time he saw you and that it would be better if you accompanied him for the good ones.

─ He was good enough that you could face him and move forward despite all his toxic behaviors, and even though you missed your old life and freedom, you bitterly accepted that it wasn't that easy to get rid of a mafia executive.

─ He showered you with luxuries and praise whenever you behaved as he wanted, and he tried to make everything as least uncomfortable as possible since he was hungry for love, but he knew that forcing some things on you would make him feel as if everything was a lie (despite that it was in a certain way, he wouldn't admit it).

─ He thought that no one would be stupid enough to even think about hurting you, you were always well protected and a few threats would be enough to stop anyone from wanting to look at you.

─ Poor little gang that tried to annoy him by threatening you at gunpoint, Takeomi is not stupid and expected your life to be threatened sooner or later, he is not a saint and has enemies left and right, this devil knows more because he is old than by devil

─ The whole band died that night while he was enjoying his dinner with you without any altercation, you didn't even know and you didn't need to know, he wanted to continue in his bubble of happiness and a trauma to you would break that illusion, you were behaving so well, you didn't need to feel fear, at least not fear from other people.

─ You were smart and applied, probably what caught Kokonoi's attention, it started as a small crush that got worse when he saw how your attention was not only for him.

─ You were smart, but not smart enough to notice how he drugged you to kidnap you that night he invited you to dinner. If you didn't notice his obsessive behavior before, now you did.

─ The amount of luxuries and whims increased, you didn't even need to behave well, he would have you with money as he had always done with everything, and you had no choice but to accept that a crazy rich man had kidnapped you and that he wouldn't let you go unless you were his partner or something like that.

─ Sick, yes, but you didn't want to know what would happen if you refused, or maybe it was Stockholm syndrome, at this point you no longer knew how to differentiate it.

─ Kokonoi is not always with you, which gives you a false sense of freedom, false because you always have a bodyguard watching from afar, and although you don't know it, there are more eyes watching you.

─ Kokonoi is not stupid either, he knows that they will use you to get to him, but he anticipated the facts, he managed to bribe the murderer of the gang who had problems with him to make sure that you would be fine, he would break if he lost another important person.

─ Astute enough to foresee a possible murder but not enough to foresee a betrayal, his whole world collapsed when one night he found out that you had been murdered, that was not supposed to happen, he should have been there.

─ He faced your death with vengeance, despite not being the most bloodthirsty in Bonten, the only thing he wanted to do was torture the gang that had dared to take your life, that scum that decided to betray him, he would not be the one to apply violence, but he would enjoy the cries of those bastards.

─ You were a whim of the younger brother of the Haitani, a whim that he couldn't get out of his head.

─ It started out as a normal relationship, but his delusional obsession with you and his changes in behavior made you think that everything was much more complicated than a mere relationship.

─ Rindou watched every step you took, he started getting rid of 'unnecessary' people in your life and you couldn't do anything about that, you accepted it too easily, so much so that you even thought you weren't completely sane.

─ You didn't need anyone else, he is always there, literally always because he loves to be by your side, he loves to squeeze your waist and bring you closer to him while others see him, he loves to kiss you in front of everyone to make it clear that he is the one who has you and no one else.

─ He can be suffocating at times, but it's not like you can do anything, if necessary he will chain you to him to stay together until death.

─ Speaking of death… the threats don't take long to arrive, knowing that they could use you against him, he will not leave you alone even to go to the bathroom, anything can be a threat, even an innocent child could be a spy looking to kill you.

─ Locking you up and depriving you of going outside doesn't make it any less likely that you'll end up dead, even though he didn't leave you for even a second, he wasn't fast enough to throw you to the ground when the red dot on your temple became visible.

─ He saw how your gaze was lost until it was lifeless and he saw red, all the people who were close to the scene died in painful ways in the following week, whether they were innocent or those involved, Rindou needed someone to pay for his loss, maybe he wasn't cautious enough.

─ You fell for his sweet charms, charms that had a lot of corpses, blood and torture behind them, but it was all for you, why would you get angry? He thought he wasn't doing anything wrong and would make you think so too, Ran is very patient.

─ Whatever it was, you accepted all of his macabre behavior, the murders, the jealousy, the obsession, you had to put up with everything.

─ But it's okay, Ran will be generous, he will offer you a lot for little, he just wants you to pay attention to him, he needs to know that you will be there for him no matter what he does.

─ He doesn't always have time for you unfortunately, but he will always have an eye on you, he needs to make sure that no one, not even you, does anything stupid when he's not there.

─ He treats you as if you couldn't do anything on your own, as if you were weaker than him, he likes you to be like the typical character in trouble, it makes him look cooler, doesn't it?

─ He probably received some threat, he could only laugh at the band that thought could touch a single lock of your hair.

─ The problem is that your restrictions increased and your 'free' time decreased, typical, but in this case Ran will be much more paranoid, don't think about spending a single moment alone from now on until he investigates and kills all those cockroaches who dared to threaten your life.

─ The moment he sees that the shooting starts in one of his brothels when he is spending time with you he gets furious, he will get you to safety immediately, he locks you up and even gives you a gun in case some smartass find you.

─ He will personally take charge, with some help from his brother, of killing the gang that had started the destruction in his business right there and will return to you to calm you down with a session of kisses and hugs if you get scared.

─ Poor Mochizuki was never good at romance, he didn't have many partners and his position in one of the biggest mafias in Tokyo was not a positive incentive to find someone who loved him.

─ So he thought that his obsession was justified when you showed some interest in him, of course that was before you knew who he really was, but it was too late, he got his hopes up and he wouldn't let anyone break them, not even yourself.

─ If he needed to have you drugged for you to accept him, he would do it, but no one would take away what he had longed dreamed for so long.

─ Don't let his tough exterior fool you, he could be a total idiot just for you, although he didn't always use the most legitimate means to get something you wanted, you couldn't do much either.

─ He always keeps you in a close hug, squeezing your shoulder and holding your body close to his as if they were going to steal you from his hands.

─ It's impossible for him not to worry, he knows the world he moves in and he is the weakest link among the Bonten executives, the guy who is in charge of some of the dirty work and knows that he has many guns pointed at him.

─ That's why he couldn't help but get involved in a shootout when he was trying to enjoy a night walk with you, he was incredibly quick to get you out of the way of the bullet that was aimed at your head, but he didn't expect for another one to embed itself in your lung seconds later.

─ His whole world shattered because he thought he had been able to save you, but seeing you dying in pain while he tried to take you to the nearest hospital was something worse than death for him, especially because you didn't make it.

─ It's not a surprise that the day after mourning that entire band was brutally murdered with just his fists, the sound of bones breaking under his knuckles was music to his ears that day.

#tokyo revengers #tr #tokyo revengers x reader #yandere #yanere tokyo revengers x reader #request #bonten #bonten x reader #yandere bonten x reader #yandere x reader #reader insert #reader is not specified so...#gn reader #male reader #fem reader #x reader

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hoshinoyozora · 1 year

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Poor, Unfortunate Soul(s)

🖤 Pairing: Yandere! Self-aware! Twisted Wonderland x Female! Reader

💛 Word Count: 1,3k+

❤ Warnings: -

[Edited]

Do not re-upload my writing to another website or use it without my permission. Also, don’t ask for a sequel unless I like the story enough to write one. Please reblog so other people can see my stories!

***

Just a lil scenario about MC who ‘dismisses’ their existences aka me lmao.

“They’re just a bunch of game characters, anyway. Why should I care so much about them?”

You laughed, unaware of the hearts that you broke within the screen. The thin yet sturdy piece of glass that separated you from the people who thought of you as their world. Their everything. Your friend chuckled, adding salt to the injury. Had she didn’t ask you why you hadn’t logged into the game for days, weeks even, maybe they wouldn’t be so humiliated and disappointed.

But did that mean they wouldn’t know your true opinion on them otherwise?

Maybe ignorance was bliss, because, then, they would’ve kept holding onto the hope for you to come back. To still want them the same way they wanted you. In this world of codes and numbers, you were the one real thing in their lives. You were human. Warm, fleshy, and expressive. And yet, you dismissed their existences so easily just because you both lived in two different worlds.

Did they really mean nothing for you? Were all of your reactions towards them merely a façade? Or a memory so insignificant you forgot about it in the next day?

“Maybe I should just delete the app. It feels like a chore to open it nowadays.”

The sky darkened, the ground trembled, and the thunder rumbled as the result of a certain dragon fae. Was this your true self? Then again, NRC was a school of villains. They shouldn’t be surprised if you, the Player, turned out to be the biggest villain of all. Not even Malleus Draconia could hold a candle to you. Your words alone had the ability to mold and break their spirits. Your touch alone could move them somewhere else and show them how beautiful Twisted Wonderland was with you by their side. And your presence alone gave them a reason to live.

If you were to disappear, wouldn’t that be comparable to death? A slow, painful death where everyone lost themselves in depression and rage, and ultimately, destroyed themselves. In a moment of morbid curiosity, they wondered if that was what you wanted all along. You toyed with their hearts, and when you got bored, you moved onto their lives.

“We… we can’t just let her leave!” A boyish voice, thick with desperation and an even desperate attempt to recompose, shattered the mournful silence. Everyone recognized him as Ace Trappola, one of Yuu’s enviable first friends and troublemakers from Heartslabyul. “We need to stop her! Come on, guys. Are we really going to stop now, after everything we’ve done to reach her?”

“But how?” Leona asked, sounding even more listless somehow. Despite his pride and consent, you’d taken a peek into his past and remained amicable with him. It didn’t matter that it was for the sake of the plot, your vessel, Yuu, still approached him and asked for his help during Octavinelle’s story. Didn’t that mean something for you? For him? “Just because we’ve managed to hack into her phone doesn’t mean we can drag her here. There’s only so much we can do to make her stay.”

Ace flinched, unprepared for the reality to slap him twice.

“I-I don’t know.” He turned to face the Diasomnia gang who, with the exception of the sniffling Sebek, looked as somber as a funeral guest. “Malleus-senpai, Lilia-senpai, you guys gotta know something about bringing someone from another world, right? You guys are the strongest of the strongest. I don’t care if it’s forbidden. There… there has to be a way!”

For a moment, they were silent as though reluctant to admit their lack of knowledge. Ace wilted, his buckling knees threatening to collapse once the severity of the situation settled in.

That is, until Lilia opened his mouth.

“… There is, actually.” he murmured. “But for every soul that moves here, another has to replace them.”

Some of the characters lit up, but the others remained skeptical.

“And I assume it’s for the sake of balance?” Vil mused, crossing his arms.

Lilia’s glance confirmed his suspicion.

“T-then, what are we waiting for?” In a burst of hope, Azul momentarily stopped sobbing. “Let’s sacrifice that person.”

“But who’s gonna be that person?” Jamil retorted.

Everyone fell quiet again, unwilling to be the lamb in the altar of your capricious existence.

“The NPCs ‘live’ when the story is moving.” Idia mumbled through the floating device. His shyness and reluctance for a face-to-face interaction was customary, but nobody could truly see the underworld his sanity was falling at a rapid pace. Still, it didn’t change the fact that he still wanted to see you living among them. Literally. “That means she has to play again if we want to sacrifice one of them.”

“I, for one, would be more than willing to help ‘convincing’ her, if that’s what it takes.” Jade simpered with his eyes closed and a hand over his chest.

“Oui! It’d be a splendid day to see her sublime face gracing us again. The sun would shine warmly, the flowers would grow tastefully, and the birds would chirp merrily!” Rook enthused, jabbing at Malleus’s inadvertent use of magic.

Riddle wiped his teary eyes with the sleeve of his uniform and straightened up.

“Seeing that our Player has slackened in her responsibility to watch over us, it is our duty to set her right.” he declared. “Heartslabyul students, I order you to find this person and bring him here!”

“I-I agree…!” Sebek piped up, still loud as always despite his trembling voice and runny nose. “I shall seize him and send him to that world at once!”

Ever the dutiful one, Silver gripped his baton and nodded. As long as it wasn’t murder without a cause, he’d gladly perform any task like a true knight would.

“Well, if Riddle ordered us like this, who are we to disobey him?” Cater laughed, trying to hide the shakiness of his voice.

Trey pushed his glasses, foggy from the upcoming tears.

“Indeed. But I won’t lie, this is something that I’m looking forward to carry out.”

“For once, you did something right, Ace!” Deuce beamed proudly.

“Oi!”

Jamil glanced at Kalim, who reluctantly nodded. He hated to see people throwing away their lives carelessly, after all the assassination attempts that he suffered through the story. But if it was for the sake of seeing you with them, who was he to stop them?

Floyd grinned happily, but the anger of being abandoned by you darkened his eyes.

“Once she gets here, I’ll be sure to give her a nice, long squeeze as a welcome~”

“Well, Leona-san?” Ruggie asked, crossing his hands behind his head. “Are we gonna boost their morale or something?”

Leona sighed, lacking the irritated exhaustion he usually had. Even he wasn’t immune to the hope that Lilia brought to them, no matter how annoying it was to trust him.

“You better not be disappointing us, Lilia.” he growled. “And you, too, Radish Sprout.”

“I don’t like this.” Jack murmured. “But if this is what it takes to make the Player fulfill her role again, then I’ll do my best to live up to the expectations!”

“I… I will join as well!” Epel stated, clenching his fists resolutely.

“Look, Brother!” Ortho chirped. “You managed to bring them all together. That’s so cool!”

Idia muttered something, but the younger boy was too engrossed in their touching cooperation to notice.

Sunlight finally dispersed the dark clouds, mirroring their spirit. Malleus took a step forward with his chin raised in determination.

“Then, I shall assist Lilia with the magic.”

You said you didn’t care about them?

Well, they would make you care.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland #twst imagines #self aware twst #self aware au #yandere twst #female reader #yandere heartslabyul #yandere savanaclaw #yandere octavinelle #yandere scarabia #yandere pomefiore #yandere ignihyde #yandere diasomnia

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nobody-nexus · 6 months

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Okay so like since it's canon that Pomni doesn't like physical contact, but not to the point where she isn't willing to touch others, I have a cute lil headcanons as to how this affects the ship Ragapom, or Jesterdoll as I like to personally call it (Also this has just a BUNCH of other headcanons that got nothing to do with the canon thing, but most involve the canon statement)

Pomni's love language is basically everything BUT touch. Words, poems, gifts, just existing near one another with some personal space, even butterfly kisses are ALWAYS an okay

Ragatha 1000% respects and understands Pomni's boundaries and won't touch her UNLESS Pomni does it first. If Pomni grabs Ragatha's hand, that means SHE is okay with hand holding. She may ask for a cheek kiss occasionally but Pomni HAS TO BE THE ONE TO ASK FIRST other then that Ragatha WILL NOT TOUCH HER

The only times where Pomni is touched without asking first is whenever there's danger and Ragatha's too quick to ask- however Pomni DOES understand that

Even with this lack of touch, there's ways to get around this. Pomni holding onto Ragatha's dress, one of them being wrapped in a blanket for cuddling, and stuff like that. Pomni purrs when she's content, so that's how they figured out physical contact without ACTUAL contact

Ragatha is UBER PROTECTIVE of others respecting Pomni's boundaries. Jax was the last one to be aware of the jester's distaste for touch, so the doll absolutely wrecking his shit was a good way to learn about the boundary

Unrelated to the rest of the hcs, Pomni's teeth are as expressive as her eyes. Her clean slate teeth can turn sharp if aggressive and/or unhinged, and if she smiles big enough, she naturally has fangs

In cade they have long nights, Ragatha always asks if she's allowed to carry Pomni to her room in case she gets tired. No matter how many times she asks, Pomni will say yes because she'd rather be in a bed then passed out on the floor

Pomni is more okay with touching others then people touching her, so whenever Ragatha needs stitching, she'll be willing to help (even though she's absolute ASS as sewing)

Pomni LOVES certain textures. Her top favorite ones are squishy and fluffy/warm (thus why she loves blankets so much)

If Pomni's having an episode, Ragatha will sit near her and calmly talk, giving her things to hold/wrap herself in. She won't invade her boundaries unless Pomni, verbally or nonverbally, asks for some like cuddles or hugs so she can let it all out

Ragatha constantly has red lipstick on in case Pomni asks for a kiss, just so the others KNOW that Pomni's hers

Pomni has no nicknames for Ragatha, but the doll has SO MANY FOR HER. Ragatha's favorites are Pom-pom, Princess, Sweetie, Lil Jester, Pitre (Clown in French), and Kitten. Pomni easily gets flustered by any and all of these nicknames

No surprise I think Pomni's on the spectrum, and Ragatha knows when Pomni's overstimulated with the environment. She'll help her walk to a less colorful and loud area to help her calm down

Of course, Ragatha herself has her moments, so to comfort back, Pomni will read to the doll until she either sleeps or feels better. Even if its poems and books Ragatha's heard a tousand times, hearing Pomni's voice helps her

Pomni's least favorite texture is carpets. GOD she hates carpets

Ragatha bakes! She mostly bakes muffins (Caine doesn't know she does this)

Jax, being a worse wingman ever, quite literally pushed Ragatha over to land atop of Pomni one time. The touch left Pomni stressed and Ragatha yelled at the rabbit

I think that's everything. I hope you enjoy the headcanons! There's also a Roxica one I'm working on so stay tuned lol

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brbsoulnomming · 2 months

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Static

Steve's never certain if he hates walking through the crowds after a match or not. Sometimes, when he walks back to his flat, all bloody and bruised and exhausted, the press of so many other people feels oppressive. Sometimes he wants nothing more than to pretend the rest of the world doesn't exist, that he's in a little bubble of his own space and nothing can touch him. But sometimes, even though there's an edge of pain in every step, the bustle of people reminds him of why he does this, reminds him of everyone he's trying to protect and everything he wants to be able to keep on going exactly as it is.

Today is not a hates day.

Today the crowds feel warm and full of energy, and he basks in it, lets the feel of so much life wash over him.

Today he buys sunflowers at his favorite florist, listening to the soft hum of bees he can hear in the back of their shop. Today he asks if they have any honey, tucks a bottle of it into his pocket and sucks on a piece of the soft, sticky candy that Mrs. Anderson makes from it. The augment he keeps for show chimes softly in his ear, alerting him that funds have been withdrawn from his arena account. He doesn't know how much, but it doesn't matter. He trusts Mrs. Anderson enough not to rip him off, and anyway, he makes more than enough from his fights to get anything he wants.

It'd be enough to get out of this place ten times over, if the credits Creel gave his gladiators were good anywhere else but the citydome he runs.

Mrs. Anderson wraps up his flowers for him, and Steve gives her a warm smile when she gives him an extra one for his girl.

He can't remember if she thinks his girl is Robin, or Nancy, or Max, or Erica, or El, but it doesn't really matter.

They're all his girls, and he'd do absolutely anything at all to give them the world.

He settles the bouquet under his arms, counts the flowers - there's enough to give each of them two, but he knows he won't see them in person any time soon.

It's been quiet enough that he might have suggested a meet up, but there's… something that stops him. Steve doesn't know what it is, can't put words to what he's picked up on, but it settles heavy in the pit of his stomach. He's learned the hard way to listen to it.

They can't risk it.

Static blares in his mind as he opens his communication link, feeling out for who's listening in and smiling to himself when he senses El.

El's favorites are sunflowers, same as him. They're Max's favorites, too, but only because he knows they remind her of El.

‘Sunflowers!’ El says immediately, delighted.

‘Fresh cut,’ he tells her. ‘Want to smell?’

Her presence is suddenly much stronger in his mind, and he dutifully leans in to pull in a deep breath, holds it for a few moments, then lets the honey candy in his mouth settle right over his tongue.

There's a pleased little sigh, a soft touch of gratitude, then she withdraws.

‘When's your next match?’ Lucas asks.

‘In two days,’ Steve replies.

There's no response, not even a wordless one, but Steve knows Lucas well enough to tell that he's disappointed. Two days isn't enough time for him to sneak out, let alone have a Creel sanctioned vacation.

‘It's not the same without you here.’ Dustin's voice is colored with disappointment, too, and Steve can feel the sharpness of what he isn't saying.

‘I know, buddy. I miss you guys, too.’

He wishes he could tell them that it wouldn't be much longer. Steve's got plenty on Henry Creel, more than enough to have made this mission a success already, but they're never going to get an opportunity like this again.

He needs to stay as long as possible.

‘I'll ask for a vacation after my next couple of matches. How did your collaboration with Suzie go?’

Steve listens to the Party over the comm links for a little while longer, just to keep his own longing for home at bay, until he gets out of the busy part of the citydome and has to say goodbye.

His head goes silent as he closes his comm link, and he's alone once more - aside from the ever present trace of Robin, all wrapped up in his neural pathways that are more circuits than synapses these days, but she doesn't count. She's as much a part of him as his own thoughts are.

Tension prickles at the back of his neck when he picks up on footsteps approaching, more purposeful than anyone else passing by. Sure enough, someone falls into step with him, and his head jerks over - then relaxes.

“My liege,” Munson greets, throwing a grin at him.

Steve rolls his eyes. “What do you want?”

He didn't think it was possible, but Munson's smile widens even more.

“To celebrate!” he announces, arms spread as though gesturing to the wide expanse of celebratory pleasures to be had around them.

Which are exactly none, considering Steve'd already passed the pleasure district. He raises one eyebrow to convey just that.

Munson is undeterred.

“Come on, your Majesty,” he cajoles. “Look at you! First time in weeks that a gladiator walked away from a match with barely a scratch on them! Surely such a transcendent performance from the King is worthy of deigning to mingle with the Freak?”

Steve's going to say yes, he already knows he is, but he makes him wait a little longer, making a big show of sighing and crossing his arms and looking him up and down.

It's then that he sees it.

If Steve was everything he was pretending to be and nothing more, he never would have picked up on anything. There's nothing in Munson's demeanor that is any different from the handful of other times they've caught up with each other for a drink after a match.

It's only because his scans pick up so much more that he detects the unsteady beat of Munson's heart, how he holds himself ready the same way he does in the arena.

And the gun tucked in the inside pocket of his leather jacket.

Right.

Looks like he's out of time here, then.

If Steve's honest, he's a little surprised that it's Munson. The rivalry between the Freak and the King is all for show in the arena - not like it is between him and Billy Hargrove or between Munson and Jason “the Prophet” Carver.

If Steve's even more honest, he's disappointed, in more ways than he can spend time sorting through right now.

“Fine,” he says, letting himself sound long suffering. “Where are we going? I'll swing by home to drop these off and meet you there.”

Something tense but otherwise unreadable flickers behind Munson's eyes, and Steve wonders if he's been ordered not to allow him to leave his sight. He doesn't have a choice, though - it's a reasonable request, exactly what Steve would have said if he hadn't caught on, and his only other option is -

“Allow me to accompany you,” Munson says, bowing low in a show of gallantry.

It's a risk.

Steve's never let another gladiator come to his flat before, and there's very little chance that he'd let Munson come now, even if he didn't realize what Munson's true intentions were. He wonders what the back up plan is if he says no, wonders if Munson will do it right here in the open.

“Why?” Steve asks, unable to stop himself from pushing, even though he knows it's a bad idea.

Munson peeks up from his bow, flutters his lashes, all playful exaggeration. “And risk you backing out and abandoning the likes of little ole me?”

“Never backed out before after I've said yes,” Steve points out, digging in. Pushing harder. “Unless you have a reason for inviting yourself over? Maybe a different kind of celebration in mind?”

Munson tips his head back down, but Steve's scanner can pick up the way he swallows, harsh and rough. “Yeah.” It's flat and hollow, and it immediately sounds wrong to Steve's ears. “Yeah, maybe I had something different in mind.”

That's -

Not what Steve was expecting.

Would he, Steve wonders? Would Munson play that card, even though he clearly doesn't want to, even though he kind of sounds like he hates himself a little for it?

“Hey,” Steve says, unbidden. “I'm just messing with you, man. It's fine, you can come with me to drop them off.”

Steve might be well aware that he's going to have to kill Munson, but he doesn't want to be cruel about it.

Munson straightens, his usual smile back on his face, and he checks his shoulder into Steve's hard enough that it stings a little. “Asshole,” he says.

“You're the one who hangs out with me,” Steve replies.

The crowd thins even more as they move into the residential blocks. They're not going in the direction of Steve's flat - but they are going in a direction that he could live in, and it's not like Munson knows where he actually stays. It's not like Munson knows that Steve's already activated his comm link and told the Party his cover's been blown, and that he has to get out of the citydome tonight.

“Hey, Munson?” Steve asks, slowing to a stop.

Munson hums, looking over at him with a brow raised in question.

Steve pulls the extra sunflower that Mrs. Anderson had given him free from the bouquet, tucks it into the front pocket of Munson's jacket.

“I really am sorry about before, I shouldn't have messed with you like that,” he says.

He's sorry about a lot more than that, but this is what he's got.

Munson's lips twist down, and he sighs as he pushes Steve's hands away - though he leaves the sunflower there.

“Steve,” he says, soft and filled with something like regret.

Nothing follows it.

There's a beat where they look at each other, and Steve thinks -

And then there's the sound of harsh laughter, boots dropping onto the ground as someone swings down from one of the platforms overhead.

“King Steve,” Hargrove drawls. “Sweet on the Freak. You're really making it easy to knock you off that throne, aren't you?”

Shit.

Steve's in worse trouble than he thought.

He steps back automatically, shooting a betrayed little look over at Munson - it's one thing for Munson to be planning on killing him, it's another for him to lead Hargrove to him.

But Munson looks surprised, and then furious, and Steve realizes -

Hargrove isn't here for Steve. Or at least, not just for Steve.

“I told Creel you couldn't do it,” Hargrove tells Munson, voice conversational. “You're all bark and no bite, aren't you?”

“Get the fuck out of here, Hargrove,” Munson says tersely, teeth gritted.

“No can do, Junior,” Hargrove replies. “I have to clean up your mess.”

“You set me up,” Munson bites out. “This was never going to be a fair chance, was it?”

Hargrove shrugs, unconcerned. “You want me to drag you back to Creel to explain yourself, or should I just put you out of your misery here?”

The thing is, Steve thinks Munson would have done it before Hargrove showed up. Steve and Munson are friends, maybe, but loyalty to other gladiators only goes so far, and Creel keeps them all under a heavy thumb. It wouldn't have been anything personal - it would have been just what Munson had to do to survive in this place.

The thing is, Steve knows he would have put a bullet in Munson's brain right here. It would have destroyed a piece of him to do it, he can acknowledge that now, but he would have done it without hesitation if it meant keeping the resistance in general - and the Party in specific - safe.

The thing is, even if Hargrove does kill Steve - even if Munson kills Steve, even if he manages to kill Hargrove before he can report back to Creel - Munson is finished, now. Unfair or not, he's failed the test. There's no going back, not if Creel doesn't trust him, and Steve knows Munson's smart enough to have realized that.

The thing is, if Creel suspected Munson enough to have Hargrove follow him to make sure he got the job done, there must be a reason why, and Steve wants to know it.

‘Change of plans,’ he tells Robin, even though he can already feel her at the back of his mind like fingertips ghosting through his hair, downloading his memories until she's caught up. She already knows exactly what he's going to do.

The piece of him that would have died with Eddie Munson finally settles into place, the circuitry that makes up more of him than he usually lets on humming softly in his veins as it adjusts to account for it.

Steve swings around to stand in front of Eddie, and plants his feet.

“If you want him,” he says, and he can hear the echo of it through the static of his communication link, calm and determined.

Steve's never felt more steady than he does when he's standing between a looming threat and one of the people who've become part of the very core of him.

“You'll have to go through me.”

Hargrove sneers at him. “You can barely hold your own against me in the arena.”

“The arena’s all show.” Steve laughs, a little mean. “You think I'm sitting here with prototype Harrington augments and all they've got is what you've seen?”

He's not sure why he's keeping up the pretense that he's nothing more than what he seems. If Creel is sending people to kill him, he has to know Steve's part of the Party. But it's ingrained in him, somehow, to protect them until his last breath, whether it's artificial or not.

The question makes Hargrove scoff, and Steve swings at him.

Hargrove lets it hit, laughs at him again with blood dripping from his mouth, and then -

They've fought in the arena, before. Not often, because they're brutal with each other, and because Creel knows their matches always draw a massive crowd and likes to drag out the tension, keep the audience wanting more.

This is nothing like that.

Despite their brutality, there's an element of safety in arena matches. The punishment for killing one of Creel's gladiators is harsh and swift, and so they're almost never in any real danger.

This is - Steve can see the hatred in Hargrove's eyes, same as he always does, but now there's intent, now Hargrove's own augments have been let loose, and there's more power behind every punch than Steve's ever felt before.

Steve's starting to think the only way he can beat Hargrove is to really let himself go, and it makes his heart quicken, makes the dread in his chest coil tighter and tighter - makes Robin even more present in his mind, makes her whisper ‘you have to, it's okay, I'm here, I won't let you lose yourself,’ -

Until a shot rings out, clipping Hargrove on the shoulder.

It's not that Steve forgot Eddie.

It's just that he kind of assumed that Eddie would run off after Steve took his first swing at Hargrove. It'd been part of the reason that he pulled Hargrove's attention onto himself in the first place.

The expression on Hargrove's face says that he'd assumed the same thing, and he shoots a venomous look over at Eddie.

“Who's cleaning up messes now?” Eddie asks.

Hargrove snarls, drawing his own gun on Eddie, and -

Steve's too close for Eddie to get a clear shot at Hargrove, and by now he's starting to think that Eddie won't take the shot if it means he'll have to shoot through Steve, but he knows damn well Hargrove won't have the same reservations.

‘Robin,’ Steve says, even though she's already there, flooding his mind until she's all he can feel.

He can't lose himself when he does this if he's so much her that they can't separate each other out.

Steve lets go.

Electricity flares under his skin, crackling and humming, and when he grabs Hargrove's hand it immediately shorts out his gun. It flows out - and out and out and out and out, overloading the circuitry of Hargrove’s augment and threatening to burn it through completely if it keeps going, and he needs to -

He needs to -

‘Stop.’

Steve can't tell if it's Robin's voice or his, but it doesn't matter.

It's enough to get him to pull himself back. He lets go of Hargrove, breathing heavily as he shuts himself down. Steve's expecting to have to fight with himself, with the way the power in him wants an outlet, but it simmers back down with little more than a whisper. It's easier than it's ever been before, and he can feel Robin's pride whispering through him.

Steve looks up, just in time to see Eddie pointing his gun at Hargrove.

“Don't,” Steve says, stepping between Eddie and Hargrove.

It isn't the same as when he stood between them last time.

For one, Billy Hargrove isn't exactly conscious. For another - Steve doesn't care about Hargrove himself, not the way every part of his being screamed at him to protect Eddie. The only reason Steve's standing here at all is for Max.

“He'll tell Creel,” Eddie says. “You know if he's still alive, if he gets back to him, we're finished.”

“We're finished here either way,” Steve points out. “And Billy Hargrove isn't our decision to make. It belongs to someone else.”

Eddie looks at him searchingly, for a long moment. “If not you, then who?”

It's a fair demand.

As far as the general public knows, as far as Henry Creel knows - the rivalry between Billy Hargrove and Steve Harrington is as intimate as it is intense. Steve would be lying if he pretended like he didn't know that there was a fan favorite theory that there was something more behind their fights.

But it's never been true. Steve's only ever hated Hargrove for what he did to Lucas and Max.

“Come with me,” Steve says. “And I'll introduce you to her.”

Eddie's eyes are dark, unreadable.

Except -

Except.

Except Steve can read into them, can read hesitancy, longing, hope.

He reaches out, snags Eddie's hand, links their fingers together.

“Come with me,” Steve says again. “And I'll protect you.”

“Okay,” Eddie says, soft and almost surprised. “Okay.”

#steve harrington #steddie #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie fic #robin buckley #stobin #dustin henderson #pre steddie #cyberpunk au #but also kind of a gladiator au and a dystopian resistance au?#yeah i have no idea what this is #meant to be a one-shot but i might do a few more

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d0g0r0t · 6 months

Note

can I pls have yandere Toby??? pretty please

Yandera Toby

TW:GROSS SHIT!!! Obsession, stalking, violence, sh

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKK!!!!!!!

He's low-key so pathetic

Seeing how pretty and kind you are he couldn't help but fall... well become obsessed

Your his!.... who the fuck are they? Why aren't you with him your supposed to be with him not them!

Yea no. He's all over the place when it comes to you

He'll sneak into your house, stealing things that smell like you or remind him of you

Stealing your perfume and using that shit like Febreze. He can barely breath in his own room anymore cause he used the whole bottle, reeking the room with your smell

He steals your deodorant, shampoo, conditioner, bodywash. Just to feel a little closer to you

He takes your underwear every now and then. Over time you'll find it on your door step all... sticky and.. what the fuck is that smell?

It's gross.

He takes your worn out shirts ALOT. You always looking threw your closet trying to find that one band tee the just suddenly disappeared

He'll give them back once he has you <3

Leaving you with little hickeys and red bruises on your neck when you sleep

He loves seeing you wake up in the morning confused on why you have these marks on your throat knowing damn well you didn't go out that night

He really does like you. He sees his obsession as a simple crush when it really isnt

He's never had someone he can see romantically so it was weird when he found out he DID love you

He gets emotional. Seeing you with someone else or not by his side

It feels like your betraying him even tho you don't know he exists

He talks about you SO.MUCH

It's like that stupid "hey masky" thing but instead it's "y/n" over and over again

Tim AND Brian have both rocked his shit because he wouldn't shut up

He has so many pictures of you on his walls. Some of you sleep, some of you eating, working, brushing your teeth, bathing. It's insane how many his got of you

He stalks your socials with his victims phones, getting BEN to figure your locations and you WHOLE life story

He knows a little to much about you

"Oh! Y/n order pizza last night at 7:46pm!"

"How... how the fuck do you know that?.."

He knows all of your accounts on and social. He wants to like your stuff but he doesn't want you to know him just yet

He screenshots your stuff and favoring all your videos to the phone

His wallpaper his your face and his password his you name or birthday

His tics slowly started to form around you as well. Him randomly stuttering out your name or something about you

The moment he actually kidnaps you is when he killed everyone you know and love

He's the only one you should love and think about. Just like him!

He holds you in his bed, ropes around you wrists and ankles

He would never put you in some nasty basement your to pretty for something like that

He stares at you for hours. Watching you struggle and squirm as desperate tears stream down your face. His head and arms rested up on the bed as he just watches you

He only keeps you tied you to his bed for a little while

He may be crazy but he's not abusive and wants you to be comfortable... kinda

He never hurts you, or tries not to

The only time he'll hurt you is if you try to leave him

But let's just hope you don't do that

He keeps you locked in his room for God who knows how long

He brings you your favorite goods and drinks and overall treats you well

He knows you won't love him right away but he doesn't want you to hate him

He asks if he can touch you or do certain things

If you say yes he's praising you and thanking you. But if you say no he begs for a bit but understand after a moment

He doesn't want to hurt you, he really doesn't

The idea of you being in pain from his hands reminds him of his father and the way Lyra looked after every beating broke him

He doesn't want to see you like that

He literally BEGS you if he can kiss you. On his hands and knees "PLEASEEEEEEE"

When you do he's shaky and doesn't know where to put his hands. He gets so needy for your lips and becomes a bit aggressive

Biting your lips, shoving his tounge in your mouth. It's wild

He bites at his fingers so much just thinking about you to where he starts bleeding.

Or scratching at his skin at the thought of you with someone else

Sad

NSFW

GROSS SHIT!!!_______________________________________

Jerks off to your pictures every night no questions asked

Uses your underwear as a cum rag hints why it's so gross and sticky

He's moaning your name softly as he cums, whimpering and gripping at the sheets just thinking about how gorgeous you are

CAN NOT control himself around you

He has so little sex life he's like a 14 boy who just hit puberty and can't look at a girl in the eyes

He's tenting so bad it looks actually painful

When you catch him staring at your body he turns in a mess apologizing that he was looking at the he didn't mean it like that. And covering his boner...

The thought of YOU and HIM was like a dream that he knew would never happen.

Feeling your soft gummy walls around him is all he thought about

When ever he touches you he gets needy and wanting to touch you even more

If you two are ACTUALLY involved don't be surprised when randomly you get groped aggressively

He loves seeing you squirming and trembling under him. Soft tears streaming down your pink face as he bucks himself balls deep. Heavenly

SORRY ONCE AGAIN SHIT IS TAKING SO LONGGG

Also ik u didn't ask for NSFW I just had to 💀

#creepypasta #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby #slenderman #toby rogers #x reader #crp #creepypasta x reader

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yanderes-galore · 8 months

Note

Romantic scenario with Ghost (Simon Riley) from the Modern Warfare reboot? Can you also amp up the horror in this scenario 👀?

I'm assuming you mean from the newest Modern Warfare 2 so I'll do that! I have no played the game but I have seen the story. I'll try my best to amp up the horror but I'll have to see how well I executed it, it depends on what you wanted. I had to scrap my first draft as it wasn't going anywhere so I decided taking it in this direction would be better for horror. You may need to be more specific next time ^^; Sorry if it came out shorter than intended....

Phantasm

Yandere! Simon "Ghost" Riley Scenario

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Manipulation, Murder, Gore/Blood described, Breaking and entering, Implied forced relationship, Stealing, Dubious touches, Being watched while you sleep, Isolation, Toxic behavior.

Like a phantom, Ghost hovered around your life. He haunted your presence and you barely had a clue. He watched you with the skill of a soldier who's hidden in the shadows all his life.

Ghost didn't care if inserting himself into your life was wrong or not. In fact he barely even was part of it. Ghost always kept his distance, he always lurked in the shadows.

In a way it was like you were being haunted. If you caught sight of him in your peripherals he was usually gone the next time you looked around. He lurked and watched... but never revealed himself to you.

Ghost liked to watch you. He's quite the silent person due to having his fair share of stealth missions. Hiding in the dark and being quiet has become an important trait of his.

While you may not know much about his existence, he knows just about everything on yours. He knows what you do, he knows how you act, he knows who you have contact with.... It wasn't all that hard for him to hack into various spaces online to obtain info.

Ghost has an influence on your life despite not fully being a part of it. He wishes he could be closer but that would have to wait. For now, be keeps his spot open.

Those who get too close are inflicted with the curse that is Ghost. If he feels someone is too close to you, the one he's so fascinated about, he deals with them. There's no need to be so gorey, he could end their life easily with a silenced weapon after luring them away.

But there's a certain satisfaction when their blood covers his gloves.

He could use a gun and get things over with quickly. A knife allows him to see the life leave their eyes at his hands, however. It allows him to show how much power he has over the. It's... satisfying.

The disturbing part is that the people he removes from your life are typically close with you. Friends and possible lovers are usual picks. Your siblings or parents are considered but he holds himself back.

Removing rivals already strains you enough as is.

Ghost often finds himself holding back when it comes to you. Isolating you socially often eases the sickly concoction of jealous envy within him... but then he watches you mourn. He often ends up telling himself it's too soon to intervene.

Ghost is often there, even during your worst moments. He sees every mournful cry that he knows damn well he caused. He sees every little twitch and mumble in your sleep. He even sees all the things you do when you think you're alone.

It's all so cute... he loves the fact you're so unaware.

Ghost takes after his name when it comes to you. Like a ghost he slips into your home in the late hours of the night occasionally. He watches you as you sleep, maybe even lightly stroking your skin as you slumber away.

Ghost takes small memorabilia to take with him. He's always quiet, completely silent as he leaves with little implication he was there. The only thing you wake up to is you possibly misplacing some items and a breezy window.

Ghost prefers to keep things this way. As much as he'd like to barge in on your life to comfort and love you like he wants, he can't. He has to be patient and slowly tiptoe around your life.

The most you know of his presence is slight glances and ghostly touches at night. The smell of metallic blood sometimes greets your nose and it chills you to the bone. It's even worse when you get word someone close to you has gone missing again.

Ghost is aware him manipulating your life like this only hurts you. The murder, the stalking, it all makes you paranoid and terrified. He's hurting you for his own selfish gain.

Yet he justifies it by telling himself he'll be closer to you soon.

For now things will be soft touches while you're unaware. For now he'll resort to dirty work to keep others away. For now he'll haunt your life like a ghost until the time is just right.

Even now as he slips into your window again to kneel beside your body, he thinks of the future.

Soon he'll no longer be a ghost to you. Soon he'll introduce himself and become close to you. He'll try to take things slow but will take what he wants if he feels he's losing you.

The future between you holds so much potential in his eyes. As he watches you quietly while you sleep and quietly slips his hand into yours, he thinks of it all. You two could be great for each other.

Soon... he won't just have to be a phantom in your life. You won't have to question if he's really there or not. You'll know he's with you.

Unfortunately, you may then know everything.

You'll know the murder he's done. You'll learn why you smell blood on him and why you're so alone. He'll scare you like a ghost if he doesn't play things right.

The fear of pushing you away keeps Ghost from giving into his desires fully. He can't get ahead of himself. Even if he wants to take his chances and kiss those lips of yours or lay next to you... he knows better.

Ghost above all else is a tactical soldier. He can't rush things until he has a plan. Watching you and barely being a part of your life will have to do.

A barely audible sigh leave him as he strokes your cheek. Afterwards he backs away and makes his way back towards your window. Like a phantom, he's gone in an instant.

Only he knows he'll be back the next night to watch you...

Perhaps even the next few nights after that... all until everything's perfect and he can claim you as his.

#yandere call of duty #yandere cod #yandere call of duty modern warfare 2 #yandere cod mw2 #yandere ghost #yandere simon riley #yandere simon ghost riley

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