Tumgik
#human mr puzzles
mspinky1 · 14 days
Text
Tumblr media
Human Mr.Puzzles
Here's what I think Mr. Puzzles would look like as a human, as if he was still technically alive and well..... not decapitated. ANYWAYS, he'd be around his mid-thirties in this pic. Enjoy!
33 notes · View notes
clarionglass · 3 days
Text
so i have been bitten by the sam reich!master bug courtesy of some phenomenal art by @northernfireart and uh. as is too often the case i had to write something otherwise if i didn't get it out of my brain i would go absolutely insane
(there may be more vignettes coming if i have ideas..... there are definitely other episodes i'd like to give the Treatment to, plus with the new dw series coming out on the weekend i may have ideas for how to incorporate the dw gang! however, i promise neither more writing or no more writing. that said, this was a lot of fun so there'll probably be more at some stage :D )
this has full spoilers for the game changer ep "escape the greenroom", but hey that's been out for a while now so,,,, if you haven't seen it i'd highly recommend it as an episode!
so, without further ado:
--
Samuel Dalton was a complete fiction, of course, but that didn't mean that when Sam Reich snuck back upstairs to get tied up in the “out of order” bathroom, the Sam that remained on the monitor, laughing at the contestants, was a pre-recording. And if Brennan, Siobhan and Lou had snorted at the idea of a time-travelling evil magician great-grandfather (for good reason), going in with the actual truth of the matter would have sounded like jumping the shark.
It sounded bizarre, but the time travel bit was the only part about his new partner in crime that was confirmably real. Admittedly, the jury was still out on “evil”—he gave off a weird vibe at times, but so far, no lines had been crossed, and it had all been funny as hell—so for now, Sam was willing to roll with it. But perhaps most surprisingly, there wasn’t even the possibility of blood relation between Samuel Dalton Reich and the guy who had shown up out of the blue one day with his exact face and a plan to really fuck around with things on Game Changer.
Yeah, the whole alien thing had really ruled out that particular prospect.
There had been various bits and pieces of confirmation that this guy wasn’t human through the time Sam had known him, but the final nail in the coffin for that one was when his doppelganger had looked him dead in the eye and tried on one of the heart rate monitors—sorry, “range extenders”—for As a Cucumber. The damn thing had literally sparked up, then died completely. Trying to process input from two separate heartbeats at once would do that, apparently. 
His doppelganger was a Time Lord, or so he had nonchalantly said one afternoon in casual conversation, though Sam still wasn’t sure if that one was a joke or not. It was hard to tell, sometimes, because he said the wildest things with the straightest face, and so far, most of them had turned out to be one hundred percent certifiably true. The time travel, the space travel, even the changing faces thing—it sounded objectively insane, but the proof was undeniable. 
There were some notable exceptions, though. Saying he’d been trapped for aeons inside Neil Patrick Harris’s gold tooth went just that bit too far to be believable, though Sam did appreciate his double’s slightly warped sense of humour.
It was that offbeat line of thinking that lent itself well to game design, as it turned out. He had a knack for coming up with ideas for Game Changer episodes, albeit with the occasional suggestion that went way beyond the bounds of good taste, and, as in the case of Escape the Greenroom, had devised some blinding twists on concepts Sam had already half-formed. The letter puzzle unlocking the secret door? It was perfect.
Understandably, Sam’s doppelganger had wanted to observe the fruits of their labours in real time, rather than watching the recording later. It happened, sometimes, particularly when it was one of his ideas that had made it through to the episode list—they’d swap places for a session, with nobody being any the wiser. Watching those edits back always felt a bit weird—it was uncanny how flawless the mimicry was—but hey, the guy was right. It was always fun.
Escape the Greenroom, specifically, with its “Samuel Dalton” conceit, provided them with a unique opportunity. Instead of swapping out the camera feed for a recording when the cast piled into the tiny secret room behind the wall, as per the original plan to get Sam in position to be discovered in the bathroom, they could just swap out the people. Sam would go upstairs, and his double would take his place at the podium, ducking out of sight when everyone came back to the main stage to “defuse the bomb”.
Sam was keen—hell, if their situations had been reversed, he’d want to be there to watch, too—but caution raised a flag. “You don’t think it’s too risky?” he’d asked when the subject was first raised. “Both of us being in the same place?”
His doppelganger had shrugged one shoulder with supreme unconcern. “The crew won't notice.”
At the time, Sam had shot him a sceptical look, but right now, Sam-Reich-in-a-purple-tie and Sam-Reich-in-an-orange-tie were standing backstage post-record, clearly visible and and calmly chatting, and not a single member of the crew had given them so much as a second glance. 
…Hardly even a first glance, come to think about it. If anyone looked over their way, their eyes seemed to… not exactly go through them, but slide over the two of them like water. He was tempted to wave to Nico or Ash or someone, just out of pure curiosity, but something in the back of his mind told him that wouldn’t be the world’s greatest idea. He had a funny feeling he wouldn’t like to see what would happen next.
(He’d given the prop bomb back to the crew once the cameras stopped rolling, and though it looked the same as the one he remembered from before he’d headed upstairs, it felt different in his hands. Heavier, more… serious, somehow. He was sure nothing would have happened—but at the same time, he was suddenly very glad that the cast had cut the correct wire with no less than a minute fifteen to go.)
(The jury was still out on evil, after all.)
“Worth coming in for?” he asked instead.
“Absolutely,” his double replied with relish. “Locking those three in a small room for an hour? Brilliant, fantastic. Inspired. It was absolute chaos.”
“Have you seen up there?” Sam asked, a smile starting to spread across his face. “They messed up the set real bad.”
His doppelganger smirked at him. “You know it took literally two seconds from you telling them to escape the greenroom for Lou to smash that guitar?”
Sam shook his head. “Oh my god. Yeah, they were stressed.” 
“Mmm. Some real panic in that room,” his doppelganger agreed, and Sam chose to ignore the faint note of satisfaction in his voice.
He shifted his weight, settling back to lean against the table behind the set, in the exact instant his double decided to do the same thing. It really was freaky how similar they were, down to the smallest mannerism—like looking in a mirror, only weirder, because the face that looked back at him was truly his own face, not mirror-reversed. Even now, it still caught Sam off guard from time to time, but at least it had faded into a more comfortable kind of strange. He had an exact lookalike who was an actual time-travelling alien. Cool. Doesn’t everyone?
The pair shared a companionable silence for a few moments, before a thought Sam had been turning over for a while rose to the top of his mind. He shifted again, this time on his own, and he felt his double’s regard swing up to fix on him like a magnet. 
“Okay, real talk,” he started, and his doppelganger frowned back in an approximation of confused innocence. “What’s all this for?”
“Who says it has to be for anything? Aren't we just having fun?”
Sam hummed, considering. “Yeah. No, I'd believe that, if I didn't sometimes walk into production meetings and find out I'd apparently been very specific about the people I wanted for certain episodes.”
“Point for Sam,” his doppelganger acknowledged with a grin. “You got me. Wasn’t hard to make a few phone calls on our joint behalf.”
“Yeah, but why?” Sam pressed. “I mean, Siobhan, Brennan and Lou are always great comedy value when you put them together, and it was awesome to have them for this, but I get the feeling you’re thinking of something other than making good content.”
“Who, me?”
With that, his double gave him a look of such overdone pantomime innocence that Sam suddenly and thoroughly understood why, not half an hour earlier, Brennan had very seriously threatened to push him down the stairs. 
He rolled his eyes, which earned him a smirk for his troubles.
Dropping the act, his doppelganger continued. “I’m expecting an… old friend, I guess, to show up at some point, and—well, I’d like to put on a really special show for them. I thought it would be a good opportunity to try a few things out, you know?”
Ominous pause aside, that was actually kind of sweet. Sweeter than he’d been expecting, that’s for sure—he was half anticipating the revelation that he and his cast were subjects in some weird experiment. Hey, that still couldn’t fully be ruled out, but still.
“Okay,” he acquiesced. “Well… just let me know, next time? Before you start ordering in my cast like takeout?”
“Who says they’re your cast?” his double shot back with a twinkle in his eye, and Sam snorted.
“Fine. Our cast, then. But seriously, let me know?”
His doppelganger nodded, which, if not quite fully convincing, was good enough. 
“Oh, and do you know when your friend might be arriving?” Sam asked. “Because if you wanted to plan something, we can—”
“I don’t know,” his doppelganger interrupted. “So yeah, we’ll have to move fast when they do get here. But I’ve got it under control.”
He broke off, then shot Sam a mischievous grin. “In the meantime, though, I’ve had this fun thought about time loops…”
51 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
HEY gals I made a ask-Blog with human Mr puzzles cause why not and you can ask him questions and you can make him do stuff and you can turn him something else and every smg4 characters will be here including Mario, meggy and more!
10 notes · View notes
buggachat · 3 months
Text
im gonna be honest i think the "adrien being a sentimonster was randomly thrown in season 4 with no planning on the writers' part" theory is really funny. like the writers of this show are just so bad at their job and so stupid that they tripped and fell in season 1 episode mr pigeon and accidentally spilled "a strange relationship to feathers" all over adrien by accident. they stubbed their toe on the coffee table and accidentally set up a mystery surrounding emilie's relationship to a feathery miraculous in season 1 volpina before we even knew what its powers were. then they spilled coffee all over their favorite shirts and at the same time spilled more white feathers around adrien in season 2 episode gorizilla. while writing the same episode someone had a really nasty sneeze and got boogers all over the script that said "use the imagery of two twin rings intertwined as the opener for the film of adrien's dead mother". they forgot to look both ways before crossing the street while writing the season 2 finale and were struck by a truck labeled "the peacock miraculous gives life" and then by a second truck with the license plate "it does so using white feathers identical to the white feathers that surround adrien in his ads" at the same time. they plummeted down an open manhole and hit the ground with a loud whack that sounded like "sentimonsters like bugette are just as real as any human..... and isn't bugette so...... perfect?" in season 3. on their way to the hospital they slipped on ice that had frozen in such a way to perfectly resemble the sentence "the word 'perfect' is consistently used throughout the series and by the creator ominously to denote how characters like adrien and kagami are 'different from everyone else', ever since season 1 episode simon says". during season 3 someone on the team got food poisoning and when they threw up felix came out instead and started another whacky series of comedic errors. the answer to the mystery of "how and why did emilie die? what life did adrien's loving mother create that she was willing to die for?" was originally gonna be "idk maybe she just exploded or somehting" probably, but then there was a really painful rock in one of the writers' shoes while walking to work that put them in a mood so bad that they forgot their original plan and instead made some bullshit up that somehow ended up being something that made sense with what we knew and put all the puzzle pieces together and actually made the show even more interesting and impactful on a rewatch because it put a lot of shots that at the time seemed random into a new and logical perspective as clear foreshadowing. it's actually impressive how stupid these silly clown writers are that they put strangely specific things so consistently throughout the entire series that resembled foreshadowing while never actually having intended it a single time! like........... really.......... really impressive............... i think..............
3K notes · View notes
sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year
Text
Yandere DILF! Headcanons
Tumblr media
Warnings: Obsessive Behaviour, Non-Explicit Implications of Smut, Implications of Infidelity, Age Gap, Non-Consensual Surveillance, Mention of Assault, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.
♡ Yandere DILF who has always had everything he could ever want handed to him on a silver platter: women, highly paid positions in some corporation or another, wealth – etc.
♡ Yandere DILF who, before today, never actually thought love existed. True love, that is.
♡ Yandere DILF who, even with a beautiful wife to his name, one he settled for before because he thought that was the normal thing to do – what was expected of him – has never felt his heart shutter or his cheeks set ablaze with the anxiety of first love, making the whole concept null. Void.
♡ Yandere DILF whose life changes the second he meets you – whose world begins turns upside down as he spots you sat on his sofa, his wife beside you, speaking with kind, smiling eyes.
♡ Yandere DILF whose interest, for the first time in his entire life, is piqued, and whose urge to pursue any information he can get his hands on is ignited.
♡ Yandere DILF who is convinced that it’s only to extinguish this newfound interest in the beautiful stranger in his home.
♡ Yandere DILF whose wife gives him the perfect guise to do so – to “get to know you,” just as she requested – seeing as you are their new babysitter, after all.
♡ Yandere DILF with the perfect house, a well-paying job, a loving family and good looks, feels as if he has nothing but his image of the ideal suburban father when he sees you, when he knows that, regardless of how wrong it is, he must have you.
♡ Yandere DILF whose resolve to remain loyal to his wife cracks every time he hears you call him “Sir” or “Mr. Laurier”.
♡ Yandere DILF whose thoughts become increasingly centric of you the longer he knows you, yet knows nothing of you save for whatever his wife tells him, a finite, human resource he can only mine so much before she becomes suspicious.
♡ Yandere DILF who, for the first time, feels as if he is the pursuer rather than the pursued.
♡ Yandere DILF who initially tries to fight this growing infatuation of who you could be – who you are – and tries to keep his dear, sweet wife in mind. One which he cares little for.
♡ Yandere DILF who finds himself having discovered loopholes in his own logic by, quite simply, for brief samples of memory, replacing his wife with you.
♡ Yandere DILF, whose mind has been buzzing with you for the last month, just before going out for the evening, considers “falling ill” to have an excuse to stay at the house with you, to talk to you, to touch you. To see what made you so special as to drive him up the wall.
♡ Yandere DILF whose idea crumbles as he realises such a plan would entail him spending time with (and potentially being caught by) his two children, for whom he held no particular affection.
♡ Yandere DILF who is drip-fed information in the time between you arriving and he and his wife leaving, from which he gleans only shards of a larger puzzle that paints no clearer a picture of the mysterious younger person who has so seamlessly captured both his heart and his attention.
♡ Yandere DILF whose mind doesn’t recoil as the first thought – image – of you doing something less than decent with him, born from you bending over to pick something up that fell from the kitchen counter, giving him a view he’d previously tried to avoid for his own sanity’s sake.
♡ Yandere DILF who has to try and look his wife in the eyes as that picture of you – and others which emerge from the cracks in his mind – remains with him for the entire evening.
♡ Yandere DILF who has to resist the urge to take you into his arms and bury you in his bedsheets, or drape you in his coat, on the rare occasion you’d fall asleep on the sofa, his children safely tucked away in bed and exhaustion having taken you somewhere far from here.
♡ Yandere DILF who can’t help the dangerous thought that you need a protector – him – to protect you from other boys your age who would gladly take advantage of your vulnerable state.
♡ Yandere DILF who unabashedly succumbs to those same fantasies of heroism and lust in an isolated private bathroom stall at work.
♡ Yandere DILF who can’t help but begin to wonder if he’d be your first; your first kiss, your first love, your first time, and if you’d take to him as strongly as he’d taken to you.
♡ Yandere DILF who, after many months, many yearning, daydreaming, dragging months, eventually receives the God-given opportunity to invite you into his house when you swing by for something other than your job – to pass on a message to his wife, or something or other – while she’s out shopping and his children are at school.
♡ Yandere DILF whose heart palpitates in ways it never did for his wife – or any partner, for that matter.
♡ Yandere DILF who actually felt as if what he said and did here mattered, that you would not be so quick to overlook any of his transgressions as his many conquests before you had.
♡ Yandere DILF who offers you a drink and, just for a second, has the nasty little thought to spike it, to whisk you away somewhere where it will only ever be the two of you. Then thinks better of it since he knows you will be missed.
♡ Yandere DILF who considers offering – insisting – a glass of whiskey, much like the one he’s poured for himself. ‘To be hospitable’, is what he’d tell himself. Though, he knows the true reason; that being to excuse anything unsavoury that may occur in your inebriated state, absolving both of you of guilt if the instigator was in his system, too. Despite his ability to hold it undoubtedly exceeding yours.
♡ Yandere DILF who, after you decline the beverage, claiming to be ‘in a hurry’, sits with you as if you were an idol, and finally comes to know your likes, dislikes, preferences for music and weather and everything outside and between purely by making you forget why you had to leave so soon to begin with.
♡ Yandere DILF who desperately draws your attention from the setting sun outside, or distracts you from checking your phone and seeing how long you’d been there, how long ago you were supposed to have left.
♡ Yandere DILF who only realises the age gap between the two of you when you tell him it was your birthday recently, and divulge your age and the gifts you’d received, making him feel, for a brief moment of true lucidity, wrong for all he has thought of and done in the name of you.
♡ Yandere DILF who is taken aback when you ask him about himself, and seem to show such a vested interest in his answers – his interests. Rather than his body count or his salary. Especially when all he’s been talking about is you.
♡ Yandere DILF who only falls deeper into this pit of obsession, feeling himself having to fight the urge to sit closer to you as each hour ticks by.
♡ Yandere DILF whose resolve dissolves, losing the battle as you look at him with nothing less than sheer enthusiasm for everything he’s saying, hanging on his every word in a way that his wife seemed to have forgotten. And, inching closer, his knee touches yours ever so gently, his arm sliding round the backrest of the sofa and encircling you like a snake.
♡ Yandere DILF who, for the first time, finds himself pining for even a morsel of accidental contact, of a misplaced brush of your hand against his side, to feel you touch him.
♡ Yandere DILF who, by the end of the afternoon, just as his wife returns, sees you notice the time and rush to hurry away, a cold aura gripping him as your glistening presence evacuates. His mood, inflated with what he could construe as no less than joy, deflates in a heartbeat.
♡ Yandere DILF who, as you urgently relay the message to his wife, stands nearby, hands in his pockets, waiting for something – anything – to happen.
♡ Yandere DILF who, as if being struck through the heart by Cupid’s arrow, feels his body go rigid as you rush to him and bestow upon him a small hug, no obvious intent behind it as you gift one to his wife, too, who, seemingly not so lovestruck, is much more receptive.
♡ Yandere DILF who, that night, chides himself for not having taken you into his arms, who makes love to his wife to forget his lapse in action. And he sees your face – your body – instead of hers, hears your voice in her stead, calling him by his name in a way he could only hope to make you one day.
♡ Yandere DILF who, finally, with the know-how, begins buying you small gifts; nothing too grandiose as to rouse the suspicion of you or his wife; just acts of implied selflessness you initially refuse as you tell him “Your kindness is reward enough !”
♡ Yandere DILF who knows you’re only being polite, seeing as he’d also begun to increase your wage (without his wife’s knowing), telling you that you’re “a hard worker,” “deserving of much more than this.”
♡ Yandere DILF who wants to give you so much more than the gift he holds behind his back for you – who wants to give you himself and all that he could provide for you.
♡ Yandere DILF who doesn’t take your modesty for an answer and gives you your late birthday present; a plush toy.
♡ Yandere DILF who relinquishes its purpose to you; “To keep you safe if ever you’re scared. Or even just alone or upset.”
♡ Yandere DILF whose heart almost explodes as your face lights up in a smile when you take the bear into your arms, your fingers brushing his, and hold it tightly to your chest. He can see your nostril twitch as the purposefully placed scent of his cologne reaches your senses.
♡ Yandere DILF who feels something South of his logic twitch in his pants as your mouth forms around his name.
♡ “Thank you, Mr. Laurier,”
♡ Yandere DILF whose lips curl into a smile, his eyes catching the camera within the bear’s.
♡ “Please,” he says, shedding his coat, having chosen a light-coloured shirt to reveal the physique he’s maintained just for you. ♡ “Call me Dominic.”
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Yandere AI Masterlist Masterpost
AO3 Wattpad
8K notes · View notes
bigfatbimbo · 14 days
Note
HIII!! Can I request mr puzzles headcanons? (If you want to)
this man has got me going WILDD
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
a/n — He’s literally the silliest, I haven’t even seen the whole movie and I love him.
warnings— just fluff, very short, no smut or angst don’t get excited, NOT PROOFREAD!!!
summary — Mr. Puzzles x reader headcanons!
Tumblr media
I’m going to be real, i’m not a huge fan of smg4 but Mr. Puzzles is just a very silly, entertaining character. And his evil princess energy has captured me full heartedly. Haven’t seen anything for him yet, so i’m stepping up for the good of society.
I feel like he’d be very obsessed with his significant other.
Like he’s gotten virtually no one-on-one attention from another human (seeing as he had no friends growing up) and he probably doesn’t have much relationship experience either.
So when you come into the picture and you like, not just he’s goofy tv show, but him, it’d be an understatement to say he’s flattered.
Seeing as he doesn’t have anyone else he’s particularly close too, he’d be all over you 24/7.
He’d want to be the main character of your life in a sense.
I get the sense that he’d be very touchy as well, seeing as he’s probably very touch starved.
He seems like the kind of guy to just poke you, like when he’s talking or teasing you, just poke your face with his finger to get your attention.
He’s probably absolutely dying for a hug, by the way, so if you give him one he’ll just stay there for way too long.
Mind his large inconvenient head, and try to figure out a way to hold him because he needs it.
And just let him stay there for a while and forget how unusually tall he is, so he can curl up into you.
Like I said before, didn’t have any of friends and was alone for most of his life, so guys he needs this.
He’s very dapper as well, so he would definitely enjoy compliments on his outfit.
Also probably just compliments in general, to be honest.
From what i’ve seen of him, it’s easy to notice how incredibly dramatic he is, and this would not change in a relationship.
From you two getting in an actual fight to you getting him a thoughtful gift, you’re in for a performance.
Take this all with a grain of salt because my grasp on this character is incredibly weak, literally I haven’t watched all of the movie yet, but I like him and thought this would be cute. Also gonna be real here I haven’t technically watched ANY OF THE MOVIE, just tons of Mr. Puzzles clips and so these are all vague guesses.
Tumblr media
356 notes · View notes
alhaithamsproperty · 10 months
Text
you’re the best i ever had, you’re the worst i ever had
Theo Nott x Reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media
plot: you and theo used to be close, until one day you weren’t, and he can’t get your attention in any other way than being mean to you | angst, angst, angst
I’m so fucking sorry, I’m so fucking sorry
I’ve been playing somebody and it’s helping nobody
And now I’m sick, throwing fists
And I have seen you in my head every fucking day since I left
— 11 minutes, yungblud
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
“Hey,” you mumbled to him, getting no answer, as per usual, and as always, he wondered if you’d ever stop saying hi to him on a Thursday morning before Potions.
Apparently not.
Draco sat infront of you, and mumbled a “shit!” before turning to you, “Y/N did you finish the assignment?”
“Oh… um, no,” you forgot about all your assignments lately. Theo occupied your mind way too much.
“What did you expect, that her dumb ass did it?” Theo mumbled and shoved his own finished paper at Malfoy. Your heart dropped and even Draco gave him a puzzled look. The friend group knew you and Theo stopped talking, they didn’t know most of the things he said to you tho.
But he shrugged it off, not caring much, and turned around to quickly copy the homework.
You stay quiet, practically not moving an inch, lost in your own head. You hear Theo smirk next to you. “Don’t act so surprised, it’s true,” he whispered.
You ignore him, knowing any word coming out of your mouth would be a stutter. You looked down on your own paper, deciding to at least try finish some of it before the class starts.
You read the first question and don’t even finish reading it, your eyes instead glued on your shaky hand. Theo notices too. “Aww,” he pouts, “don’t tell me you are upset now.”
“Fuck off Theo,” you finally say back, your voice breaking before saying his name. You never thought you’d be saying his name like this. With so much sorrow.
He lets out a silent laugh, “Do you wanna know what the funniest thing is?”
“No.”
“You can’t help but say hi to me every time. You hate me yet you seek me out every chance you get, hoping I’ll talk to you. It’s honestly amusing.” His voice was sharp.
You stay silent for a moment, gathering yourself up, hoping you won’t break. “Maybe I should stop.” You finally say. Not even denying anything he just said. It was the truth. You both knew it was. It just hurt as hell.
He laughs. “Now why would you do that? You would be so lonely without the only human interaction you keep so desperately hoping for. Plus you’d have no one to annoy.”
You don’t answer him. There are thoughts racing through your mind, you want to tell him so badly to go to hell, but you just don’t manage to say anything.
He leans closer to you, and whispers, just a little lower than his previous words, “You sure you don’t wanna tell me what’s on your mind?”
“You know,” you say, but don’t look at him, feeling anger gather in you as well, “you talk way too fucking much for someone who’s annoyed by me and wants me out of their life.” This time you do. You glare at him.
He looks you in the eye for a moment, and then smirks. “But I like to annoy you. You’re just too easy to rile up. It’s pathetic.”
You break eye contact with him again. It was the first time in a long time you even looked him in the eye, and you managed to feel tears staining your cheeks. You didn’t want him to see it. And in that very moment, you felt your heart truly break. Your teacher appeared in the door the very second you grabbed your bag and got up.
“Ah, miss Y/N—“
“Sorry,” your voice broke as you walked past the teacher.
“That’s a shame, she didn’t finish the paper,” the teacher mumbled as he was taking all the papers from his students.
“She left it here,” Theo said and gave him the paper Draco managed to sneak back to him a second ago.
“Hm. And your paper, Mr. Nott?”
“I forgot about it… sorry.”
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Something Theo told you this morning broke you. You’ve slowly been breaking for the last few months, whenever he’d ignore you, look away from you, not answer you or use cruel words, a little bit of you died. And there was nothing left after today.
You cried in your room for hours, thinking about when it all got so fucked up. You used to be close friends, taking classes together, going to the Forbidden forest together, he liked you enough to introduce you to his friends, even. One time he even got in a fight for you when some ass from Gryffindor tried to touch you.
Eventually you ended up kissing a few times, and stealing touches, and before you knew it he spent a few nights in your room, keeping you warm and whispering sweet promises that meant absolutely nothing now.
And then it stopped. Just like that. At first he ignored you, and then the cruel words came in, and it kept getting worse, all up until today.
Who knows how you even ended up here, in the middle of a Slytherin party, drowning in yet another drink.
“Hey, don’t you wanna calm down with that?” Draco laughed next to you and grabbed the cup from your hands. You gave him a quick look and reached for a new cup, and almost drank the whole thing again. “Nope.”
“Right. My guess is it’s to do with Nott?”
“Who?”
“Very funny,” he rolled his eyes and grabbed your back to stop you from falling. “Well, if you are over him, Cormac has been asking about you.” Theo almost broke his nose when he asked him, but Draco didn’t tell you that. It would be to no good.
“I can put a word in for myself, thank you,” Cormac suddenly appeared by your side and snuck his arm around your waist. Draco rolled his eyes and disappeared.
“What the fuck was that?!” Theo jumped in front of him and shoved him without thinking.
“Calm down,” Draco shrugged him off and took another sip from the cup he confiscated earlier. “It’s at least gonna be funny,” he nodded to Cormac leaning over your body and mumbling something to you.
“No the fuck it won’t,” Theo growled at him. He looked at you again, and the way Cormac was practically all over you… didn’t you mind?
Gosh, you were so infuriating, did you know that?
He noticed the way your hand brushed over Cormacs, and suddenly he felt sick to his stomach as well.
He noticed the way he kept telling you some bullshit and the way you giggled. And he thought to himself don’t you dare kiss him.
He swore he saw you look at him for just a second, like your eyes searched for him in the crowd, but before he could even process that, you were the one pulling Cormac in for a kiss.
You kissed Cormac. And it felt… wrong. Every single second of that kiss you were just thinking that he’s not Theo. How kissing Theo felt right, and how wrong this feels. You felt his hands on your hips and you felt like crying and breaking down again at the thought of Theo. Why couldn’t it be him?
You felt your eyes water again, but before you could pull back, someone pulled Cormac back so roughly he turned around immediately, and you just saw Theo slam his arm down on Cormacs face. And keep beating and kicking him until his friends dragged him away.
You felt furious. You grabbed his shoulder and turned him to you. “What the fuck Theo?!”
“You kissed him! I fucking—“
“And why the FUCK DO YOU CARE?!” You yelled at him, screaming in frustration. You saw him freeze in his spot for a moment.
He gathered his breath. “Because… you’re mine.”
This time you were the one to laugh at him. For the first time in months he heard your laugh and it didn’t sound as pretty as it used to. At all. “No, I’m fucking not. You keep hurting me, the only thing you do is hurt me and laugh at me, I don’t want to be yours. I wanted to, I really did…” you looked him in the eye, and found your voice breaking again, “but you pushed me away.”
He grabbed your arm, squeezing it in desperation, “You wouldn’t have kissed Cormac, would you? Tell me, why did you kiss him?”
“I don’t know…”
He raised his voice at you. “Don’t lie to me!”
You felt your eyes tearing up again. You tried to get away from his grip, all you wanted to do right now was to get away from him. You never wanted to feel this way. “Leave me alone.”
His grip only tightened as his voice got louder. “The truth, Y/N. Did you kiss him to make me mad?”
You looked at him in disbelief. “And why would me kissing someone even fucking matter?! You hate me, remember?”
He grew angry, he stepped closer to you, staring into your eyes. “Answer me. Did you do it to spite me or did you do it because you are attracted to him?”
“I did it to forget about you Theo.” You say, and his grip on you becomes loose, for the first time in so long you see an expression on his face. “Because you are in my head every fucking day since you left. And it hurts so much. You hurt me so much.”
He wanted to get closer to you, to say something, but you shook your head. “It’s your turn to answer the question. Why would you care if I kiss some random guy?”
“I don’t want some asshole hanging over you. I want you to myself…” he whispered.
“Then why do you treat me the way you do?”
He avoided eye contact with you, his body was shaking, he was fucked up, and it was the first time you saw him like this. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how else to keep your attention, how to tell you how I feel. Do you understand?”
You were staring at him. Did he realise how ridiculous he sounded? “No, I don’t understand Theo. Just leave me alone.” You pulled away from his grip and turned around to walk away.
“Wait,” he chased after you and turned you around to him. “You still care about me?”
You looked down. Breaking at how pathetic you’re gonna sound now. “I will always care about you Theo… even if you don’t.”
He bites down on his lip in frustration, “Listen to me, I do care, okay? I do care, and I’m sorry,” he picked your chin up and looked you in the eye. And you saw in his eyes that this was still your Theo.
“Please understand. I don’t know how to show how I feel. How can you even stand me after the way I acted?”
You watch him and feel a tear, you quickly wipe it, afraid you’re gonna look dumb, ridiculous, pathetic, and all those other stuff he called you. “I don’t know.”
He gently wiped your cheek with his thumb and pressed a kiss on the spot. “I’ll get better, I promise. Just… give me another chance. Please.”
You go quiet for a moment. “Okay…” you give him a small nod. His eyes lit up, but before he can say anything, you continue, “one chance Theo. One. If you mess it up I’m gone forever.”
He gives you a small sad smile. “I’ll be good. I promise, just don’t leave me. I don’t know what I would do if you were gone. You don’t wanna know what I would do if you were gone.”
“Okay…” you mumble and give him a quick kiss, then pull him in for a hug. Theo wraps his arms around your waist and holds you close to him, letting out a deep breath.
He kissed the top of your head first, and then grabbed your chin again to force you to look at him. “Can I?” He leaned closer.
You gave him a quick nod. “Please…”
And he kissed you. Properly. Deeply. Hoping you’ll know how he feels if his words can’t tell you. You kiss him back, and it feels okay.
“Let’s get out of here…”
2K notes · View notes
imyourbratzdoll · 4 months
Note
Could I request Jack sparrow x reader fluff?
hello, of course you can! I hope you enjoy what I've written, I added a tiny bit of angst, but I'm hoping it made the fluff even sweeter.
summary - jack had fallen in love once but had lost it. does he finally find it again?
warning - little bit of angst, mentions of alcohol and killing.
the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips (deactivated)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Captain Jack Sparrow had only ever fallen in love once. But the love was kept a secret as you weren’t human and it was dangerous for a pirate to love, especially your kind. There was something about you that pulled him in, connected the last piece of his puzzle, calmed the storm that brewed inside him. This love was beautiful, until the day you became hunted, causing you to flee and Jack to continue to search the seas. He’d always lie and come up with some insane quest, but the true quest was to reunite with his love again. 
Years passed by and Jack soon began to lose hope, he didn’t dare stop searching for you. But he was beginning to think that maybe you didn’t escape in time or that you had moved on wherever you were. Jack is thrown out of his thoughts as the ship rocks, he steadies himself by gripping the wheel tight. “Mr Gibbs! What was that?!” His hand moves to play with the light blue seashell in his hair, at least he had something of yours close to him. 
“I don’t know, sir!” Mr Gibbs runs over to the edge, looking over, his mouth opening and closing as he watches a tail splash above the water before going back down. “A siren! My gods, Captain!” 
Jack dashes over, trying to hide his hopeful expression. What if it was you? He’d be thrilled, but he’s with his crew and they wouldn’t waste a second without going for the kill. “No, how many?” He leans over, brows raised, eyes wide and arms in the air. 
“Just one as far as I’ve seen, Captain. What should we do?” Mr Gibbs looks at him, thankfully the rest of the crew were too busy with whatever they were doing to pay much attention. 
Jack waves him off, “Just one? Is fine! We will head to shore, I’m in need of more rum anyway.” He heads back, hoping that it’s you and that you’d follow him to shore. Jack could feel his heart in his throat, maybe some rum would do some good. 
They head to the closet land, no one speaks a word. Jack too lost in his thoughts and Mr Gibbs watching him closely, the older man wasn’t stupid. He had heard of the stories, the time that a pirate fell for a siren. He just didn’t know said pirate was his current Captain. When they finally reached land, Jack did something unexpected, he allowed everyone to go before him. Not racing off for booze or women, instead he headed off the ship and down to the beach. The sun had set, and the moon was rising, but Jack could still see clearly. 
As he moved closer to a rock formation, he noticed someone sitting on top. Your hair falling beautifully as always, your eyes that were once bright were now slightly dull and the smile was replaced with a frown. “Y–Y/n? Is that you, love?” 
You nod, “J–Jack…” You felt the sobs in your throat desperately wanting to come out. 
Jack rushes forward, his hand grasping your cheek while his eyes studied you. His own tears flowing down his cheeks. “My siren, my mate. The years I’ve waited for you.” He seals your sobs with a kiss, eyes slipping closed as he embraces this feeling. “I’m never letting you go again, love. Never.” 
Your hands feel his face and hair, they stop, and your fingers touch something familiar, your eyes move from his face and land on it. “You kept it…” You play with the seashell, remembering the day Jack had surprised you with a date on the beach and after you had eaten, you grabbed his hand and swam together. You remember popping your head up and handing him the pretty blue seashell, telling him that if you were ever apart that you would always be with him.
“Of course, I did, love. It was what kept me going.” He stares into your eyes with a gentle gaze.
Your hands stay on him, not wanting to stop touching him because then he might disappear again. “It’s been so long, I thought I lost you… I’ve been searching…” Your bottom lip trembles and your brows furrow. “I love you, Jack.” 
“I love you, my siren. More than words could express.” 
From behind and on the ship, Mr Gibbs smiles, raising a glass in the air before taking a sip. He was happy his Captain found his love again, thankful that his clues for you to find them finally worked.
Tumblr media
thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
426 notes · View notes
mechaknight-98 · 1 month
Text
Instinctive Insight II (NSFW) FT Chaehyun
Tumblr media
Authors note: back to our regularly scheduled programs. Enjoy more shenanigans between Dino and his favorite marshmallow
Part I
After my lunch with Marshmallow, I returned home. However, after about 40 minutes, a peculiar feeling of animosity towards her began to bubble up within me. What made it particularly unsettling was that alongside these negative emotions, I still felt the same positive, affectionate, and possessive feelings I experienced during our date. The longing for her presence gnawed at me, and every moment she wasn't beside me only fueled my frustration and anger, leaving me utterly perplexed.
In an attempt to distract myself from these conflicting emotions, I decided to call Pops (Old McDonald).
“What's on your mind, Dino? You rarely call after your shift,” Mr. McDonald inquired, sounding puzzled.
“It's about Marshmallow... I mean, Chaehyun,” I stumbled over my words.
Before I could elaborate, McDonald interjected, “Yeah, she's pretty cool, right? Did you know she also raised a female Magnamalo?”
“That never came up,” I replied curtly.
I found myself overwhelmed by disgust and frustration as I continued, “She was wearing this skimpy crop top that showed her midriff and one of the shortest skirts I've ever seen, flaunting her thighs. And then she wouldn't stop complaining about her university troubles at the steakhouse we went to. It was relentless.”
As I ranted, I couldn't help but notice how the very qualities I found attractive about her just hours ago now seemed unbearable.
“Well then, I suppose I'll let Zahir know he's free to pursue her since you clearly can't stand her,” McDonald suggested.
“No, she's mine!” I growled instinctively, the possessiveness surprising even myself.
“Hmm, that was possessive. Are you sure she feels the same?” McDonald questioned.
“I don't care. Marshmallow belongs to me,” I declared fiercely, my mind swimming with a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. It took me a moment to regain my composure, but even then, I found myself grappling with a multitude of unsettling feelings.
“Pops, what's wrong with me? Why do I feel so strange around her?” I finally confessed, seeking solace in his guidance.
“Well, I'm no expert on human psychology or biology, but based on everything I've heard, I'd say you're in love with Chaehyun, if that cute little nickname Marshmallow is referring to her,” McDonald stated, his words eliciting a mix of disgust and elation within me.
“Then why am I so angry with her?” I questioned.
“Well, I'd hate to say it, Dino, but you might be going through a transformation similar to Tony as well,” McDonald suggested.
“Wait, what makes you say that?” I asked concerned
“As you know, I'm a man of science. Over the last year, you've grown three inches in height, despite your growth plates being fused. You've also become noticeably stronger, lifting 1.5 times what you could three months ago, and your aggression levels have spiked recently. Not necessarily for bad reasons, but your responses to stimuli have shifted in the last three months.”
“So, you're saying I'm a Magnamalo hybrid?” I questioned, puzzled.
“No, I'm saying you're still mirroring Tony. Remember when you and Tony both fell exceptionally sick at that school in the middle of nowhere and recovered almost simultaneously? Same principle. Your body and biology are mirroring what you've surrounded yourself with” McDonald reminded me.
I pondered McDonald’s words before responding, “Yeah, I remember. But that can't explain something as significant as this, right?”
Old McDonald paused for a moment before replying, “Well, what happened between the two of you when you broke the touch barrier? Or did you just fight the entire time?”
Despite my discomfort, I admitted, “We kissed.”
“Then you and her are mirroring your bonded megafauna. I'm curious to see how that will play out, considering both of you are already bonded to another megafauna. It'll be interesting to see how it affects the two of you going forward,” Old McDonald said with a chuckle.
“Okay,” I groaned. “Oh, wait, before you go. Why did you sell the zoo to Chaehyun?”
“Well, partially because I thought the two of you would run it together. You know the ins and outs, the infrastructure, the people, while she has a worldwide network. Together, you could easily take what her father and I have built to the next level,” McDonald explained hopefully.
“What about your actual son?” I inquired.
“Marshall is too preoccupied with his novels to give the zoo the care it needs. He told me, ‘If you give me the zoo, I'm giving it to Dino. He earned it.’ So, I figured I should be more calculated in my approach,” McDonald replied, prompting a nod from me before our call was interrupted by Marshmallow.
“Guess who's calling now?” I muttered.
“Wish her well from me,” McDonald chuckled before hanging up.
“What do you want, Marshmallow?” I responded, annoyance evident in my tone.
“God, was I interrupting your precious alone time, Daddy? I don't even know why I called you,” Marshmallow retorted in a similar tone.
“Please, get to the point,” I demanded.
“The Malzeno is acting weird,” Marshmallow announced.
“How so?” My misattributed anger surged.
“He's turning silver and shedding his purple plumage and wing membrane.”
“What did you do to my son?” I snapped coldly.
“Oh, that got your attention. He's shedding, but something's wrong…” Marshmallow started, but I hung up and raced to my car.
“Hey, DJ, what's going on?” my mom asked as I hastily explained the situation.
“One of the zookeepers brought a Quirio, and it's causing Alucard to go primordial,” I explained as I rushed to the zoo. Upon arrival, I found Alucard in distress, clawing at his skin. Spotting the Quirio, I swiftly disposed of it and tended to Alucard, feeling his intense malice amplify.
Tumblr media
“Dad, it hurts. What did they do to me?” Alucard's eyes pleaded for answers.
“It's okay, son, just growing pains. You'll be okay,” I reassured him, feeling his sadness pierce through me.
After calming Alucard down, I stepped out of the enclosure, only to be approached by the girl who had been with Marshmallow.
“Are you Mr. Dino?” she asked nervously.
I nodded hesitantly, and she apologized profusely. I refrained from scolding her and instead offered a gentle pat on her head, and reassurance that she'll learn it's part of the job.
As I finished up I heard screams and knew that things were about to be bad. I was right and like a cascading snowball, all of my other sons began transforming across the zoo. After I tended to the other megafauna going through transformations, exhaustion began to set in. By the time things settled down, I had fallen asleep on a very content Tony. I dreamed that Marshmallow and I were on a lovely brunch date. She had syrup on her mouth that I wiped off when I was jolted awake by my phone. When I finally woke up after drifting off on Tony, Marshmallow was waiting for me, her expression sour.
“You know we could have handled it?” she said, annoyance palpable in the air, igniting a storm of emotions between us.
“I guess a thank you would be too much to ask?” I groaned
“Please anybody can say nice things and calm down a megafauna.” Marshmallow retorted. I felt my body heat up familiarly as we moved closer to each other.
I scowled before we were inches away from each other. Our eyes were intense but displayed our true emotions. Marshmallow smirked before tying her hair up into a ponytail and getting on her knees. My head swam as she pulled down my sweats. My body reacted viscerally as my cock shot out to greet her.
“Oh did Daddy’s cock miss me?” She said in a teasing tone before kissing it. I was in agony as she teased me by giving these light pecks and kisses to my cock. I resisted the urge to face fuck her and let her take her time with this as she was a pro at working my body. It was as if we were almost made for each other.
“Did you know that when Magnamalos mate they pair up for life? Isn’t there something beautiful and innocent about that?” Marshmallow said as she took me in her mouth. Her first trip down my rod was slow as she got a feel for my size in her mouth. As she retreats and my cock is exposed to the cooled midnight air she looks up at me with eyes full of want, “I want that. I want one love, can you be that for me? My one love.” She begged. her eyes pierce into me and all I could feel for this amazing, talented, smart, and sexy gal was love and affection. I want her close by and never want her to leave. So I respond
“Yes, forever I’ll be yours but promise me you’ll be mine,” I say as Marshmallow’s hand warps around my length.
“Yes, I’ll be yours.” Marshmallow mirrored. I caress her face. She smiles as she goes in for another slow tortuous and euphoric stroke
“I love this cock. It’s perfect for me. The right length the right, girth, all attached to the right man.” Marshmallow said as she engorged herself on my length. She smiled and put her hands in mine before resting them on the side of her face. A silent encouragement to fuck her face follows. I start slowly thrusting in and out of her mouth. I hit her throat a few times but I try to take it easy on her until she tilts her head up during one of my thrusts causing it to go deep into her throat. She gags and involuntarily bites down a little. I give her time to catch her breath before I take a puff. The warm wet cavern is only matched by her pussy. I fall deeper in love with her and her body as I thrust into her faster and faster her eyes roll back as she takes me in and out like she is nothing more than a fleshlight. I feel her throat vibrate as she moans all over my cock.
“Ruin me Daddy” Marshmallow gags/ moans, and I sink my cock deep into her throat. Pushed by the sounds of her gags I just thrust relentlessly in and out of her mouth chasing my release. I watch as she gags and moans all over my cock as she takes it like it’s her favorite candy. I caress her pillowy cheeks as I ruin her until my cock throbs
“Gonna cum Marshmallow get ready,” I say before I paint her throat and mouth white with my cum. I groan as she continues sucking me long after my orgasm has ended. She continues sucking past the point of overstimulation and sensitivity to where I’m starting to get hard again, but before we can continue I lift her and smile at her. She smiles back. Overcome by the emotion of today I devour her as we fall into another kiss.
“You drive me crazy,” I say
“I can’t stop thinking about you, and every time we part I feel this anger of not being with you. It makes me angry and sick how needy I am for you but I don’t care” Marshmallow says
“I feel the same way,” I say gasping between kisses and breaths.
“Is this what love at first sight feels like?” Marshmallow asks.
“I don’t know but let’s find out,” I respond as we break our kiss. I catch my breath as she drags me to her car. We drive to where she’s staying at. A small two-bedroom apartment. After she opens the door she grabs me and leads me to her room we strip in front of each other for the first time and her body makes me feral.
She drags me to her bed as my hands run all over her nude form
I start by caressing her round face. I bring her in for another kiss in between kisses I compliment her, “I love how expressive your eyes and face are. Every time you look at me whether it be with disgust or desire, my heart races in my chest.” I say before diving back in. I squish her soft cheeks which elicits a cute giggle from her as she smiles at me, “my favorite smile from my favorite lady” I say proudly. Marshmallow smiles at me with such soft warmth that my heart melts. How could I ever have hated her? I wonder to myself. I kiss her again and again until I gasp. She gives me a sly look as I look down to see her stroking my cock.
I move my hands lower as I caress her bare chest for the first time. I salivate as I break another kiss. “Oh my god your tits are like the rest of you: Soft and warm. God I love it.” I paint before diving in and taking her left breast into my mouth. Marshmallow moans as I suck to my heart’s content before alternating between both breasts.
I lower myself to her pussy Marshmallow looks at me with overwhelming lust. I give an exploratory lick and she reacts violently. She spreads her legs and shoves my face into her warm cunt. I lap her labia trying my best to pleasure her despite my inexperience. Thankfully Marshmallow was extremely vocal about what she desired.
"Whoa, there cowboy slow down. Okay, a little to the left. a little higher. Right there." She instructed as I navigated her folds, my tongue darting in and out of her tart love box. her taste was pungent but also sweet like a cheesecake. I feel myself harden under he as she smiles at me with her seductive eyes. "Keep going Daddy right there." she moaned as I modified and alternated paces to keep her on her toes. it drove her wild her body writhed and screamed as she came over my face. I lapped up her juice with the widest smile. she looks at me with a look of frightening frenzy.
I’m shocked by her strength when she pushes me off her eyes narrow seductively as she whispers, “I’m going to drain you, and you’re going to beg me to keep going.” My dick hardens at her words even more.
We fucked all night and stopped at 2 am only because I had to go to the doctor for a check-up. When I woke up at 10 am with Marshmallow she smiled at me. “Can you help me with logistics later today?” Marshmallow asked. “I’m trying to move Amaterasu here.”
“Okay. I’ll see what I can do.” I reply
“You know when you left yesterday after our lunch I felt this sadness that I couldn’t deal with. All it did was turn to anger. Like all I felt was this need for you did you feel something similar.”
“Yeah, my infatuation with you is fermented and spoiled. I didn’t like it.” I answer. Chaehyun smiles at me before caressing my face. I smile at her she smiles back
“Well, should we move in together then?” Marshmallow said. I consider her proposal. it would make the negative feelings go away, but it would drastically change who I was in the process I could feel myself changing while being with her and I was unsure whether it was good or bad, but I couldn't be without her my body had made that abundantly clear. So I took a chance.
"Screw it Sure, but can you drive me back to the Zoo I need to get my car and go to my doctor's appointment," I say to Marshmallow who is all smiles. She nods
"Sure anything for my Darling Daddy."
186 notes · View notes
ena-113 · 10 months
Text
A human crewmate, Mia, held a long thin box. It seemed to have paper and plastic peices inside, based on the sound. A puzzle perhaps? A few other crewmates trailed behind them.
"Hey Bob! Wanna join us? We're playing Clue, it's a board game from earth."
Bob nodded and joined the others trailing after Mia. He had no idea what a 'board game' was, but it seemed fun. They eventually all gathered around a table in the cafeteria.
"Okay, so it's a murder mystery and we have to figure out who killed Mr. Body. We're all possible suspe-" Mia started to set up the board and explain, but was cut off by Jli'yan.
"I'm sorry to interrupt, but why do humans have a game centered on murder and distrust?"
"Cause it's fun, thrilling. Good for poker face practice." Kaya answered, shuffling cards. They then nodded towards Mia to continue explaining.
♤♡♧◇
prev
♤♡♧◇
556 notes · View notes
queerfables · 7 months
Text
This came up in my recent discussion with @indigovigilance, but for my own reference, I wanted to make a dedicated post about it.
Fandom speculation in the wake of season 2 has pointed to the themes of deception, sleight of hand and memory tampering to suggest there's an unsolved mystery woven through the season that we can piece together with the right evidence. I think there's a solid case for this, but I also think it's possible we've been deliberately lead into overthinking things.
Crowley and Aziraphale's conversation about Clues-with-a-captial-C is a reference to Terry Pratchett's iconic Discworld detective, Samuel Vimes. Vimes is skeptical about Clues. He considers assembling a singular, intricate explanation that accounts for every available piece of evidence a great way to end up with a theory that is enormously clever and completely off base.
From Feet of Clay:
Samuel Vimes dreamed about Clues. He had a jaundiced view of Clues. He instinctively distrusted them. They got in the way. And he distrusted the kind of person who’d take one look at another man and say in a lordly voice to his companion, “Ah, my dear sir, I can tell you nothing except that he is a left-handed stonemason who has spent some years in the merchant navy and has recently fallen on hard times,” and then unroll a lot of supercilious commentary about calluses and stance and the state of a man’s boots, when exactly the same comments could apply to a man who was wearing his old clothes because he’d been doing a spot of home bricklaying for a new barbecue pit, and had been tattooed once when he was drunk and seventeen and in fact got seasick on a wet pavement. What arrogance! What an insult to the rich and chaotic variety of the human experience!
From the Fifth Elephant:
Mr. Vimes had told him never to get too excited about clues, because clues could lead you a dismal dance. They could become a habit. You ended up finding a wooden leg, a silk slipper and a feather at the scene of a crime and constructing an elegant theory involving a one-legged ballet dancer and a production of Chicken Lake.
Coupled with the conspicuous barrel of red herrings in the opening credits, I have to wonder if the show, while teasing the possibility of a mystery, is explicitly telling us not to look too hard. I'm not ruling out some kind of twist, but I'm inclined to think that for this story, theories are strongest when they rely on only a few pieces of evidence and follow a clear, straightforward narrative. If there is something still hidden in season 2, maybe it's not an elaborate puzzle but a simple misdirect.
306 notes · View notes
hainuwelle · 26 days
Text
The third man theory
Note: This theory takes as starting point Aurora's Fun theory. It states that the invention in which Gaster fell was a new version of a warp door that would have allowed the monsters of the underground to escape to a timeline in which the war against the humans never happened. If this experiment were to work, it would have allowed for a happier ending than the True Pacifist one, because more accidents and deaths would have been prevented.
Sadly, Gaster's experiments went wrong and he was scattered "across time and space". The only other time in Undertale this expression is used is when we call Papyrus in Sans's room, the one that gets us lost in a seemingly endless darkness when we enter it, with a door that suspiciously looks like Mystery Man's grey door and Deltarune's warp doors. This key expression used by Papyrus tells us Gaster's creation and untimely demise should have something to do with these doors.
Tumblr media
If this theory is correct, the invention in which Gaster fell would have been under our nose the whole time.
With the FUN theory video in mind, something about Mr. Elegance's dialogues caught my eye.
Evidence 1 - Mr. Elegance, if we didn't previously talk to Jigsaw Joe:
Tumblr media
Evidence 2 - Mr. Elegance if we previously talked to Jigsaw Joe:
Tumblr media
For a flaming teleportation door one would assume to be magical, the vocabulary used to talk about it sure sounds mechanical and mundanely machine-like : « Fix up », « working on it », « got this door workin’ », « it might break », « fixed that door », « it should work without any issues ». Intriguingly, it looks old, and yet, it is new to the Darkners, who have never seen it before. Is it really Darkner technology?
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Of course, to an experienced Undertale player, it looks familiar, similar to the one to Sans's room.
This brings us to my question: Why did Toby Fox add these two different Mr. Elegance dialogues about this door? What purpose do they serve?
It can't be to alert the player that they could malfunction if we haven’t previously talked to Jigsaw Joe, since they always work properly regardless. It’s not like this triggers a side quest asking you to talk to the puzzle man if you don't want a 1/6 chance of the door teleporting you into the void. And they don't serve a comedic purpose either. There is no joke, no punchline. So why warn us about the breaking hazard, if the warp doors never break in the first place ? Why specify that 3 people are needed to get them to work smoothly?
Because this isn’t really about the Scarlet Forest shortcut. The door might not break in the game, but it might have broken somewhere else. This is really about what went wrong with Gaster's experiments.
Time to bring in evidence 3:
Tumblr media
First, let's note that this tweet isn't exactly talking about the same situation as in evidence 1 : Mr. Elegance talks about a door that two people got to work and that might break, while Toby Fox talks about a machine that's already broken and that two people could never repair.
However, evidence 2 tells us that when three of them worked on it, the machine should work without a problem. So if we assume that these dialogues are really about the creation that led to Gaster’s demise, this means that the reason things went wrong is because one person was missing.
Two people worked on the machine instead of three, which led to Gaster's disappearance. Yet, we know that two people were trying to repair the machine once it was broken. This means that after Gaster's disappearance, the missing person came back.
Now let's imagine that Gaster formed a trio with two other colleagues that we'll name X and Y. The Royal Scientist is working on a door-shaped machine that would free the monsters from their imprisonment. As the fate of the Underground lies in his hands, a lot of pressure is resting upon his shoulders. The role that X and Y had in this creation is unknown. Gaster could have even built it on his own. But thanks to Entry n°17, we know that shared his experiments with two other people. And thanks to the Japanese translation, we know he was rather close to them.
After the construction of the machine, Gaster and X try to get it to work, but without Y. Maybe they walked away from the experiment, maybe the other two didn't trust them enough, we don't know.
Despite this, they manage to make it work with just the two of them. However, what Mr. Elegance predicts happens, and something goes wrong. Two people just wasn't enough to assure that the machine would work properly. It's too unstable. It malfunctions. Gaster falls inside, is shattered across time and space, and the machine breaks.
Now let's come back to the end of Toby Fox's tweet. ”Neither of them could fix the machine, no matter how hard they tried. No one can." Notice that "neither of them" means precisely two people.
Tumblr media
After the incident, Y comes back, but Gaster disappeared. The trio is now a duo. Y and X do everything they can to repair the machine, but can't. No one can. Because Gaster, the person necessary to its reparation, is no more.
If this theory is right, what are X and Y’s identities? And why was Y absent during the creation of the shortcut door machine? A lot of questions have yet to be answered...
105 notes · View notes
stevenssacrab · 5 months
Text
Good Neighbor
⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚✧ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚*
Summary: Seeing your neighbor constantly ordering takeout inspires you to offer him a home-cooked meal and your company.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1.1k
a/n: As promised, one that isn't about Mr. Steven Grant. Hope someone out there appreciates the fallout 4 reference in the title lol. There will be a part 2 so look out for that soon! Hope y'all like it!
⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚✧ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚*
Part 2
Bucky sighs as he submits the 4th DoorDash order of the week.
“There’s no way this is good for me,” he groaned loudly, tossing his phone to the side and throwing his head back on the sofa when a heavenly aroma hit his nose.
“Ugh, there goes Y/N cooking again,” he says, slightly annoyed at himself; he quietly steps out into the hallway, seeking more of the godly scent coming from your apartment. Bucky has been entranced by your cooking abilities; somehow, you find the willpower to make a delicious home-cooked meal every day; he doesn’t know how you do it.
You hum softly to yourself as you pull out your chicken pot pie. You loved this recipe, but it, unfortunately, served 8+ people, and you didn’t know that many people, so you just picked at it throughout the week, but this time was different; you noticed that your handsome neighbor Bucky is always ordering take out, you can’t imagine a night he didn’t order something in, so you’ve decided to be a good friendly neighbor and offer him some, it would go to waste anyways so might as well give it away, and if it meant you would get to talk to Bucky, you figured it wouldn’t hurt.
Knock knock, you tap lightly on his door, suddenly having second thoughts, but before you can change your mind, Bucky opens the door.
“Hey, what’s up?” He says, only slightly confused
“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you say, holding your hand out. Bucky shakes your hand, and you don’t miss how rough his hand feels against yours, how your hands fit together like puzzle pieces.
“Bucky,” he says, looking at you with a hint of something you can’t quite grasp.
“I made some chicken pot pie, and I have tons left over; I was wondering if you wanted what’s left. I see all the takeout and thought it may have been a while since you had a home-cooked meal.” You say, your eyes widening suddenly. “N-Not that I’m like watching you or something. You laugh awkwardly, eyes shifting everywhere. “I just happened to notice and.”
“Y/N, it's okay. I know what you meant,” he smiles at you.
“Come in, please,” he says, stepping aside to let you in.
“Okay,” you say shyly, slowly crossing the threshold into this home; it was much homier than you imagined. You were not sure what exactly you expected, but it wasn’t this; it was decorated with army medals and pictures of other Avengers enjoying life; it was odd seeing everyone superheroes, in regular clothes, having beers and singing karaoke, everyone being so ordinary. It was refreshing to see; it really humanized them for you. It, of course, never slipped your mind who Bucky was, but to you, he was always your neighbor who ordered too much takeout and had loud get-togethers.
“This smells so good, Y/N,” he beams, practically drooling over the pie.
“I’m glad you think so; it tastes even better,” you wink. Bucky looks away, smiling shyly. He leads you into his kitchen, placing the food at the breakfast bar. He pulls out your chair for you before he seats himself, digging in immediately.
“UGH, this is so fucking good,” he shouts, with a mouth full of food. “Oh, sorry, this is so good.” he laughs, shoving more food into his mouth.
“Mmm, what is this crust made out of?” He asks, chewing slowly, dissecting the flavors, and trying to pinpoint it.
“Cheddar and thyme,” you beam proudly, enjoying his reactions to the meal.
“Ugh, my god, genius.” He says lowly, “So, does your boyfriend love your cooking too?” He asks
“Oh, haha, no boyfriend, it’s just me,” you laugh awkwardly.
“No way, I’d marry you if it meant I got to eat like a king every day,” he says matter-of-factly.
“I might have to take you up on that offer,” you flirted back. Bucky practically licks the plate clean; he pushes the plate away and smacks the table in triumph.
“Amazing,” he chirps happily, gently patting his stomach, absolutely glowing.
“Thank you, you’re too kind.” you blush at his praise and stand up, clearing your throat before speaking.
“I should get going; I’ll see you around, Bucky,” you say, gently squeezing his arm.
“Yeah, hope I can see you again.” He says slowly, hoping you pick up his suggestion; you walk across the hallway, giving one last smile before closing the door.
It’s been a week since you gave him your pot pie. Every meal you’ve made, you wanted to provide some, but you didn’t wanna weird him out
It was raining, too, so you decided it was a good day for some classic French onion soup, only this time, you wouldn’t bring your leftovers; you would have dinner with Bucky. You are dressed in a yellow floral print dress that landed just above the knees. Giving yourself one last look in the mirror before walking across the hall, you gently knock on the door.
“I’m coming!” Bucky shouts, and you faintly hear footsteps coming closer. Bucky quickly swings the door open.
“Oh, Y/N! Hey, whatcha got there?” Bucky asks, looking down at the pot you have in your hands.
“French onion soup,” you say proudly, holding your head high. “With a baguette,” you added happily.
“Hell yeah! Come in, come in,” he says excitedly, stepping aside.
You pour yourself and Bucky, as he waits excitedly, absolutely beaming, gently place the bowl before him and hand him a few slices of baguette.
“I hope you like it,” you smile nervously; you sit next to Bucky, wiping your sweat palms on your dress.
“This looks amazing, Y/N,” he says, smiling down at the food, picking up a spoonful of soup, and blowing on it before eating.
“Oh my god,” he says as soon as it hits the palate, Concern growing deep in your chest. “He hates it, oh my god,” you say to yourself.
“Y-you don’t like it?” You ask timidly, pulling his bowl away from him, shame feeling every part of your body, “this was a stupid idea,” you say under your breath, but loud enough that Bucky hears you; he grabs the hand, pulling away tightly, you gasp; looking up at Bucky nervously
“Don’t say that,” he said firmly, realizing he was still holding your hand; he cleared his throat and let your hand go.
“I just mean it’s good, better than good; it’s incredible,” he admits cautiously, reaching for another spoonful.
“Oh, haha,” you laugh, feeling the tension melt away.
Bucky wastes no time scarfing down the food, and of course, going back for seconds, you smile to yourself, pleased with his reactions.
“Ugh, that was marvelous,” he said, rubbing his belly happily; you both sat on the sofa in comfortable silence. You remember when you first built up the courage to offer him your leftovers; you never imagined it would lead to this: having dinner with your handsome neighbor.
“Do you wanna make dinner at my place next week?” you asked suddenly before you changed your mind.
“I’d love to.” Bucky smiled back at you.
181 notes · View notes
throwaway-yandere · 1 year
Text
The Owner Who Broke The Leash (Yandere!Kamisato Ayato/Reader)
a/n: this is a chainsaw man au but I tried writing it so that you don't need to be an anime/manga reader (suffer with me.) I'm not 100% following the source material, so Beidou and Kazuha are platonic & no mother-child themes the orig has people debate over. I won't be explaining the latter to those who did not understand lmao. (Y/n)'s 20 years old. This is just a yandere fic, relax hehe. also, huge shoutout to @navxry for beta reading, their insights were helpfull!!! and also shoutout because honestly nothing is more fulfulling like seeing a live commentary of roasting the yanderes and for some reason, my husband too sorry dain-
cw: yandere themes and degrading nicknames ("dog"), and dont read while eating ig?
unreliable synopsis: "Thank you, Mr. Kamisato," (Y/n) mumbled. "It's just... I'm still pretty pissed by what happened. I had an absolute shit first kiss–"
Tumblr media
Kamisato Ayato questioned whether he had a heart in his head because, on occasion, it beats louder than the one cradled by his ribs. Or perhaps he's just grown incredibly susceptible to human emotions– or in this scenario: "headaches." Then again, in a world where 7 out of every 20 Inazuman citizens are killed by Devils in a concerningly short duration, is it really surprising that Ayato would experience such distress?
The Public Safety Devil Hunters have often questioned their limits throughout the years. Many of them have hardened themselves into pawns who seek glorified kinds of justice and retribution with the limited and declining manpower they have. As a result, they needed people like Kamisato Ayato, a mystifying man who presented himself as a gregarious yet reticent individual regarded either with respect or distaste. 
Only a few people have gone insane, which he and the captain of Division 4, Dainsleif, considered to be regrettable. They both had a strong conviction that complete sanity was inappropriate for a devil hunter. The rational and sensible are not in demand in this profession. Only those who have lost their sense of humanity can remain alive with their limbs intact. Many disputed Dainsleif's claims, questioning how could they be true. And to this, he answered:
"What does sanity truly mean when demanded of you by a Devil?"
Unfortunately, not many people understood the significance of that puzzling question, and even if they did, they rejected this way of thinking. Losing one's sanity is equivalent to losing what kept many alive–
And then…
There's (Y/n).
"Holy shiiiiiit!!!" (Y/n) spat out with their mouth full as they gouged the poor leftover traces of udon from the bowl, fully savoring what drops can be salvaged. They tilted their wrist and licked the remaining noodles, which made Mr. Kamisato's associates raise an eyebrow. Their unbrushed hair would sometimes cover their eyes, making them appear more monstrous and feral.
That was enough to know that in an instant, (Y/n) was endowed with a life that was blessed— at least, in physiological matters.
Despite their disheveled clothes and messy hair, anyone would've mistaken them for a somewhat functional human being. Ayato was quite pleased to dress them up after finding them bloodied and dazed. Not that the zombie devil was ever considered a formidable foe, but seeing the Chainsaw Devil in action is enough grounds for fascination, yes?
The Chainsaw Devil… What name does his "family" go by nowadays? What does the "Fixer of Hell" do around this era?
And why did he form a contract with this… mess of a human being? Why did the Chainsaw Devil agree to become this person's heart replacement?
Why didn't the devil let them perish?
Kamisato Ayato has been dying to know–
"Is this what you devil hunters eat every day?" (Y/n) gawked at him, who was snapped back to reality by their childlike antics. "Seems pretty fucking worth it to me. Those jackasses must be ripping me off if I did the same work for less than, what, two eighty percent? I don't know jack-shit about math, though. Unless it's about calculating debt."
"Is that right?"
When (Y/n) eliminated the Zombie Devil, the public safety officer was able to locate the "dog" in person. Fortunately, he just so happened to know that there was a devil in the vicinity and saw (Y/n) covered in blood. Surely, finding out that the Chainsaw Devil became (Y/n)'s heart via a contract was a mere coincidence in Mr. Kamisato's perspective. He's a cunning being, but not omnipotent, yes?
"Duh," their nose scrunched. "Gotta pay my dead dad's debt somehow. The sins of the Father are the sins of the... I forgot the rest of the line."
"Hmm."
To say (Y/n) is the… most entertaining person is the understatement of the decade. They exude none of the dignity of an ordinary civilian when bringing up their lack of rudimentary mathematical abilities and literary knowledge. Like a child who was isolated in their room for so long, (Y/n) was the type of clumsily put-together person you wouldn't expect to pique Ayato's interest. 
Yet here he is, answering them with something far from a business smile.
Ayato was entertained by their awkwardly talkative behavior and flushed cheeks.
(Y/n) has a crush on him. He's certain.
He can make use of that.
"We take care of our workers, yes," Ayato smoothly replied. His gaze did not falter away from the more-than-exploited hybrid. Hidden behind his stare was an obsession he had yet to add a label to. There's a strangely human urge for him to wipe the stray noodle off their chin.
They failed to see his soft gaze and continued to mindlessly ask nonsensical questions.
"P-Peanut butter and jelly too?"
"If they so desired it. I do not see why they cannot afford to buy some with their paycheck."
"Woah."
They looked incredibly amazed, if not, pathetically deprived. It made Ayato even more curious– just what life was this poor dog living if they craved incredibly simple joys?
And… peanut butter? Was that ever considered peak luxury? What a miserable life. Dead mother, murdered father– and a poor heart condition to match. He'll never consider their living conditions humane.
"Dog," Ayato thought to himself. "Positively a dog."
So faithful. So easily handled. 
Just as the Public Safety Devil Hunter had hoped for.
Humans are strange creatures and even more challenging to please. Ayato noticed that people attract others when they're unfortunate yet not far enough where they're "beyond saving". Balancing that fine line is a hindrance. Humans strive for authenticity but retreat when it causes discomfort— running away from the empty or broken bits that reflect their innermost selfish beliefs. These people will probe for trauma and unfavorable emotions to relate to, but won't exert control to change or challenge the speaker. 
They want a "palatable" story– a "marketable" person.
Kamisato Ayato didn't enjoy how hypocritical humanity is. Perhaps that's why he connected with (Y/n) instantaneously. 
Because (Y/n) was no longer human.
They're a devil-human hybrid. There's nothing for (Y/n) to mask, and most importantly, they're so damn easy to please.
Ayato glanced at his wristwatch. 
It's nearly time for tea with his fellow commissioners.
He closed his eyes and sighed softly. There was no latent vitriolic expression on his face, but that did not mean Ayato cared for his colleagues deeply.
They're all dogs in his eyes.
"Let us depart, (Y/n)."
And (Y/n) might be the best one yet.
Mr. Kamisato stood up and ruffled their hair.
"Come. Be a good dog and perhaps I'll spoil you with as many treats as you desire."
—-------------------
"Holy shit…" (Y/n) muttered to themselves.
"Today, I'm going to experience my first kiss ever…"
"Oh, a kiss you say?"
"M-Mister Kamisato?!"
It's been a while since Mr. Kamisato saw (Y/n), and they exude a brighter aura than before.
He's not pretentious enough to say (Y/n) had grown so much since he last saw them. There are qualities to them (he wouldn't say redeemable) that Ayato was certain weren't there in the past. After assigning them as Kaedehara Kazuha's subordinate and roommate, (Y/n) rehabilitated to the norms of public safety devil hunters. There were some setbacks, including the time they refused to kill a devil because they were naive enough to consider them as friends. But here they were, inside a busy restaurant after a month of dispatching (Y/n) to their new job– new life.
And won't you look at that?
Ayato's gaze softened as it sank in how much his influence had changed them over the months.
They… look radiant, don't they?
(Y/n) stood up, shocked that the refined public safety officer would be joining them. No one told them that he was invited. The rest of Division 4 followed suit, extending their pleasantries to their superior. The only exception was Beidou, who spoke nothing as she continued chugging her beer. Ayato greeted them and gracefully slipped away from his black cloak and placed it on the chair.
They remained standing until Ayato reached out and ruffled their hair.
"Sit."
And so they did.
Mr. Kamisato's grin widened.
"Good dog." He said.
Good dog…?
For a moment, the world was on mute for Mr. Kamisato.
And in that personal silence, he pondered to himself:
Why does he care so much about a dog?
It matters not since they will always remain a dog in his eyes. The day he stops calling them a dog and treating them as one is the day he'll forget about the "Fixer of Hell."
"(Y/n)..."
Ayato turned to look at the woman who moaned.
Beidou was one of his favorite dog's new coworkers alongside Kazuha, Kaveh, Al Haitham, the blood-fiend Arataki "Numero Uno" Itto, and the rest. Unlike the aforementioned four, Beidou often regarded Ayato as a "manipulative bastard" while her long-time partner, Kazuha, felt that there is a certain level of melancholy about him that they repeatedly failed to comprehend. Kazuha had a better sense of the world than his dear old eye-patched friend, but even he finds Ayato unpredictable.
Ayato doesn't mind her hostility and their wariness, not when they took great care of his pet on their latest mission. 
Yet, he's holding back a glare.
"(Y/nnnnnn)..."
He doesn't appreciate the way her hand repeatedly traveled down his dog's thigh.
"H-Hey, you're d-drunk–" (Y/n) kept "discreetly" glancing at Ayato, worried. "Q-Quit it! Y-You're making me uncomfortable, man–"
"Shhhhh!" Beidou hushed in a low and seductive tone. 
"Just wait, (Y/n), I give better kisses when I'm far from sober."
Ayato's eye twitched.
How intriguing.
"W-WH-WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!!!–"
"Your reward for killing the Eternity Devil, you scallywag~" She hiccupped, red-faced. "Kiss, with tongue, re-mem-ber?"
Mr. Kamisato closed his eyes, clenching his fists beneath the table as his colleagues drank and ate to their hearts' content. She's drunk. She'll likely regret those words tomorrow.
For a moment, he wished he could drown himself in Kaveh's talks about wearing his father's hand-me-downs or staying in Public Safety for the paycheck. Or maybe hone in on how Itto kept adding zeros to his IQ when asked. 
But his whole being was focused on this peculiar conversation.
Suppose a lonesome dog will latch on to any attention it will get.
"K-Kiss…" (Y/n) squeaked.
Don't be so overjoyed.
Ayato desperately wanted to say.
Can't you tell that between the two of us, it's me who you would choose in a heartbeat?
"Who's kissing who now?" Ayato raised his hand, calling for the waiter while staring at the morally conflicted (Y/n). "A glass, please."
(Y/n) paused, not looking at both Ayato and Beidou. They were deep in thought, assessing the situation as though it was their most life-threatening moment. 
Good.
They perked up again, somewhat sweating.
"U-Uh, Mr. Kamisato! H-Have you heard? I found an important metal-piece thing and grabbed it!"
Ayato no longer held back a defeated sigh and clenched his fists under the table.
… Disappointing. 
So they have chosen to ignore his confrontation instead of turning down Beidou's advances. Shame. Ayato's face contorted, but no one noticed his dismay other than Kaveh, who did not know what to make of it at the time.
"Yes, I have, and what fine news it was indeed. Excellent work. Oh, to have been a fly in the wall..."
Seeing as that "piques" his interest, Kazuha leaned his elbows on the table.
"While we're on the topic, Mister Kamisato…" 
Kazuha proceeded to add more to the subject, calmly stating all the information and inferences the group had acquired after the last mission. The "metal-piece" thing (Y/n) found was a portion of the Gun Devil, and Kazuha blabbered about how it appeared that (Y/n) had been targeted by many devils.
"–somehow (Y/n) is at the crux of everything. You know something that we do not, right Mister Kamisato?"
It's only natural for Kazuha to act this way. (Y/n) had no formal training yet fought the Eternity Devil for three days without rest. They had even utilized the Chainsaw Devil's ("Thoma" was its new name) power to torture them nonstop. Devils regenerate by drinking blood so they grained the Eternity devil regularly, yelling and taunting it like a maniac. So in Kazuha's conclusion, (Y/n) was not only stranger than they suppose; they are stranger than they can suppose.
Division 4's and Ayato's main objective is to hunt this "Gun Devil", but there's no need to mind such trifles. At least Makoto is dead. That's one battle won.
Ayato gazed at Kazuha, then his drink.
"What an interesting notion. How about a game?" Ayato placed a finger on his lip. "What do they call this… was it called hot pot? Hmm… No matter." 
"The mechanics of the game is to outdrink your opponent," Ayato smiled. "Will you accept this duel?"
As if on time, Beidou placed her empty glass down, making Kazuha just a bit more confident to take the risk. Kazuha nodded.
"Excuse me! Two sakes, please!"
Beidou, who would've normally banned Kazuha from drinking because of his height and not his adult age, yelled on top of her tops.
"HE-HE-HEYYY!!! MAKE IT THREEEE!!! I'LL PLAY THE DAMN GAME TOO!!!"
"MORE SASHIMI!!! THERE BETTER NOT BE A BEAN MIXED IN THERE!!!" Itto demanded soon after.
"I-I'd take a plate of sweet potatoes and cheese, please!" Kaveh humbly requested, fixing his red hairclips.
"HEY WAIT, ME TOO!!! MORE TEMPURA TOO!!!" (Y/n) followed, causing Al Haitham to cover his ears. 
Ayato smirked, drinking his mug. He already knows how this will end.
—--------------
Just a few drinks in, Kazuha proved his humanity by slowly fluttering his eyes to sleep.
Both Kazuha and Beidou failed to defeat Ayato in his game, albeit the latter wasn't trying their best. The others lost focus on the match when they knew Ayato had secured victory the moment he gave the mechanics. It's hopeless. Even a newbie such as the salt-and-pepper haired man knew it was a battle whose result had long been decided. 
"Excuse me, sir," Ayato smiled, smug. "May I have another drink, please?"
Mr. Kamisato retrieved his umpteenth beer, eager to take a sip but as soon as he had it in his hands, that woman chimed in again. 
She kissed them.
"... Goodness," Ayato muttered emptily.
That bold woman kissed what's his.
Ayato shook his head slightly, drinking his glass with a malicious glint in his eyes. As that woman aggressively thrust her tongue inside (Y/n)'s mouth, his dog shook, peering over the unimpressed Mr. Kamisato. He made it known to them that he was not pleased by this front-row display of "affection", but (Y/n) made little effort to stop it. He heard her moan and scrutinized the way she yanked their collar to deepen the "kiss", closing all distance between them.
He could've sworn the mug cracked a bit so he loosened his hold. Mr. Kamisato had felt another "headache" settling in as he watched that filth violate his pet with perverse pleasure. He snarled quietly.
What a low-quality "treat".
"Is this what you call a reward?" Ayato muttered. 
She must taste horrible. 
His (Y/n) must feel horrible.
Surely they wouldn't enjoy being taken by another person? 
Yet they're melting in her arms. 
Ayato scoffed.
What an unpleasant sight.
He felt... unsettled and restless.
Suddenly, they pulled away. Ayato was almost impressed (relieved) until he saw the reason behind (Y/n)'s distress. That kiss was disgusting, and everyone at that table will reasonably agree on that after seeing what had happened to (Y/n).
"HAHAHAHAHA!" The blood fiend laughed heartily. "IT'S IN THEIR MOUTH!!! IT'S IN THEIR MOUTH!!!"
That disgusting acidic liquid…
Itto elbowed Al Haitham beside him.
"AND YA BOYS KNOW WHAT HAPPENS WHEN ANYTHING NUTRITIOUS GETS INSIDE (Y/N)'S MOUTH?!?"
Mr. Kamisato stood up and immediately pulled (Y/n) away from Beidou, pampering their lips with tissues and scrubbing the remains of that wench. His eyes sharpened as (Y/n) leaned into his touch, trembling while grabbing his white dress shirt. Ayato ignored how he would've normally felt a twinge of disgust over the stains they left on his clothes and gently cradled them; his focus now aimed at Beidou– disregarding how the other members laughed or visibly shivered at the sight.
… it's puke.
"THEY SWALLOW IT!!!"
Ayato's eyelids lowered as he heard (Y/n) gulped Beidou's vomit involuntarily, cringing while sobbing– gagging. Itto's laughter drowns out any sounds of concern. (Y/n) hands flew to their throat, clawing to spit everything out as the others watched. 
Is this… what people call "headaches"?
How dare she.
She dared not only steal his dog's first kiss but also dared to vomit inside them. Beidou had publicly disrespected what was under his control.
His eyes were emptier than before.
Unacceptable.
He did not fail to notice the others in the room as well. Kazuha jolted up awake at the commotion and searched for a tissue immediately. Some watched out of morbid curiosity like Al Haitham, while there’s people who nervously laughed without knowing what to do like Kaveh, and the rest hollered with the blood fiend. 
The last category was filled with employees who had been in the department long enough to know Beidou’s antics. As one of them had told (Y/n) before the party started, Beidou had kissed nearly everyone in the room they’re in already when drunk. Couple that fact with how these colleagues have most of their sanity stripped away and live their lives unhinged, and you got yourself a group of people who no longer processes traumatic events as it is. To them, this is comedy.
The superior Public Safety Devil Hunter shifted his glare to them, effectively halting their laughter.
Mr. Kamisato will be keeping an eye on them.
He knows their names and their faces.
“Tch.”
Ayato roughly dabbed their mouth, cooing at his traumatized (Y/n) as the others looked out for Beidou. (Y/n)'s hands remained locked on their esophagus as if pushing out the last remaining toothpaste from the tube. Pitiable. And somehow, for ones with a sadistic inclination as he does, charming–
No.
Get it out.
Get it all out without hurting what's his.
Scrub every last trace of that woman out of them.
Mr. Kamisato let go of the tissue and brought his thumb against (Y/n)'s lips. Their breath hitched as his ministrations differed greatly from before. Instead of something so intense and near degrading, the way Ayato wiped the stains was warm. Intimate.
Yet Ayato's permanent polite smile betrayed his thoughts.
Blindfolds. Hands. Kneel. Blindfolds. Hands. Kneel.
Squish.
He closed his eyes.
Ayato did not care for whatever happens to Beidou next– she can get killed by a devil next week for all he cares– but he will not allow anything of this sort to occur ever again.
"Oh, my dearest (Y/n)," this time, he smiled not to seem normal but to comfort. And such a genuine gesture scared Ayato deep down. "Allow me to help you get it off your system, okay?"
Finally, their coworkers fully acknowledged (Y/n)'s plight. Kazuha was the first to lend his handkerchief, something Ayato made a mental note of. Kaveh turned around instead. The hairs in the blonde's arms certainly stood the straightest. In response, Al Haitham rolled his eyes over how squirmish his fellow recruit was.
"I have a grandmother who often vomits, perhaps–" 
Kaveh immediately cut off Al Haitham, "Wait, you're actually volunteering to help?"
He shrugged. "No, I was merely offering advice on how to–"
Ayato snapped.
"I'll take care of this. Alone."
Ayato's grip on (Y/n) tightened, pulling them close to his chest protectively. He can sense them eager to cough out the vile shoved down their throat but sweetly, he will not give a damn if they released all that in his chest. Ayato led their head on his shoulder. His hand ran through their scalp, soothing them.
Every decision Kamisato Ayato makes is final.
He needn't hear more of their so-called input.
They don't need you.
His (Y/n) does not need ANY of you.
Slowly, Ayato tilted the nauseous (Y/n)'s chin.
"You'll let me take control, won't you, love?"
They nodded, tears in the corner of their eyes. Charmingly weak. A reflection of their humanity. The humanity Ayato did not care about for so long.
"Good do–" Ayato stopped himself.
"Good," he chuckled. "Just good. Now, follow me to the restroom."
He didn't let (Y/n) interact with anyone else that night.
—----------
That incident occurred yesterday, and it was still fresh in their memory. 
(Y/n) had been especially gloomy as of late and had been ordered to never talk to Beidou until permitted by Mr. Kamisato. Instead of staying at Kazuha's apartment with Itto, Ayato made arrangements so that they'll have a room in his government-owned apartment. The man from then on refuses to let them out unless a mission requires them. It rattled (Y/n). In a sense, they were like a dog caged for a vase they did not break. 
Like most mistreated dogs, they whined silently. Which were sounds that never go unnoticed by caring owners. 
And all caring owners will prioritize their pets more than their phone ringing.
Ayato immediately muted his phone.
42 missed calls from Mr. Kaedehara, 36 from Ms. Beidou, and 11 from Kaveh.
He swiped their text notifications all away and faced it down on the table.
"(Y/n), my dear," Ayato began in a soft voice as he set down his boba tea and the take-out for tonight's meal. "Something troubles you. Though you may not wish to share at the moment, know that I am here for you should you ever need an ear."
(Y/n) looked up with gratitude in their eyes. Although they were not vocal about it like they usually are, they did not expect Mr. Kamisato to be perceptive and kind enough to acknowledge their demeanor.
"Thank you, Mr. Kamisato," (Y/n) mumbled. "It's just... I'm still pretty pissed by what happened. I had an absolute shit first kiss–"
They sobbed, voice cracking.
"–and even if I kiss a bunch of other women or guys in the future, I'll probably never get that taste of vomit off my mind, won't I?"
The room went quiet, and Ayato's shoulders dropped at their pitiful sounds.
He retrieved his cup of boba milk tea on the table again and silently placed it in front of (Y/n), aligning the straw in the direction of their lips.
"I understand," Ayato replied. "Sometimes, wounds of the heart take time to heal. But remember, there is a chance to create beautiful memories within every setback. Now open your mouth."
With a sigh, they took a sip of the boba milk tea, the taste of blueberry cheesecake tantalizing their tastebuds. (Y/n) relaxed, the tension in their body dissipating. However, as if urged to see their discomfort yet again out of perverse pleasure, Ayato spoke once more.
"You will likely never erase the taste of vomit in your mind for all eternity."
(Y/n)'s eyebrows furrowed.
"However," Ayato cupped their cheek, forcing them to share his gaze.
"Now that you will forever live with me, you will have the chance to taste a wide variety of new flavors to the point you will never have to recall that unpleasant taste again." 
As they savored the comforting flavor, Ayato's eyes twinkled mischievously, and a small smile tugged at his lips. He chuckled. 
"And I would like you to take notice, (Y/n)," he began playfully, "that this delightful boba tea we're sharing is the taste of your first indirect kiss."
Surprised, (Y/n) messily choked on their drink, spluttering the content in their white shirt as embarrassment colored their cheeks red. Ayato chuckled softly, reaching out to pat (Y/n)'s back gently as they recovered.
That adorable expression. It beats that of a dog.
Their blush is human.
(Y/n) is human.
As (Y/n) wiped the sweet taste on their lips, they couldn't help but feel a newfound sense of hope, knowing that Mr. Kamisato will be there for them. Their lingering disappointment remains, that much is certain, but it will disappear in time. (Y/n) drank until the cup was emptied. It was a symbol of Mr. Kamisato's promise to make the taste of puke a distant memory and that–
In the end, everything will be alright.
He likes them. He's certain.
(Y/n) can make use of him.
Give Mr. Kamisato a chance, dearest (Y/n).
He'll add Ms. Beidou's death to his list of things to check off in your next assignment. 
Not only that, of course. She won’t be the only one that’ll keep him busy. He has not forgotten the faces of those who laughed at you during your dilemma. 
Maybe once the officer reassigns them all to a more… enthralling location, he’ll get a more satisfactory answer to the question:
"What does sanity truly mean when demanded of you by a Devil?"
469 notes · View notes
extraaa-30 · 3 months
Text
Why soft dom Aziraphale + bratty sub Crowley appeals to me
(be serious though they're both switches)*
Soft Dom Aziraphale
1. heaven
An angel is supposed to be the pure one, undefiled, meek, following orders without question, the girl to be got, the prize to be sought after, the white to be soiled. Subvert it! Aziraphale shouldn't be confined to an eternity of zero agency, naivety, and bland pastels. The idea of Aziraphale getting to really own his "bastard" side, getting to be "selfish," be demanding, be in control--delightful.
And, Aziraphale has guilt complexes on his guilt complexes. Because, unlike most of humanity, he is intimately aware of the righteous, pitiless violence that heaven is capable of. And he's made an art of subtly and ceaselessly defying it by being gentle, by demonstrating enormous restraint. He is a warrior who gave away his holy sword. He swerves severely in the direction of being reserved, harmless, feels clear guilt about any strong desires or direct asks. He has an obvious anxiety about excess (the mental acrobatics he does to justify his book collection, for example, are an entire circus). Free him from the fear of going too far!
2. the effeminate gay man
Thee Southern Pansy, "gay as a tree full of monkeys on nitrous oxide," with the fancy clothes and prim and proper aesthetic, ever the damsel in distress, flamboyant and limp-wristed, the one who is called slurs by children, the one who is sunshine and sweetness, "the nice one."
Except we know he is secretly a bastard! We know this bitch has preferences! Let him own that! The fact that he is effeminate should not automatically make him more submissive I literally hate that. On the inside Aziraphale is cunty and commanding and he should get to be!
3. with Crowley
Let him say what he craves directly so help me god! No double-speak, no games, no lustfully looking but then looking away immediately. Let him consume. Let him indulge in the gluttony he endlessly flirts with yet denies himself out of guilt and fear. The idea of Aziraphale as a gentle dom just seems so healing, like a puzzle piece that finally gets to click into place without shame.
-------------
Bratty Sub Crowley
1. hell
A demon is supposed to be the impure one, the defiler, the temptress, the seducer, the villain who takes, the black that soils. Subvert it! Crowley shouldn't be confined to the tropes of his demonic nature. He does not just take, just ruin. He is not inherently the one with experience while Aziraphale is the naive, pure little virgin. The idea of him being submissive to an angel (well...to this angel) is a delicious way to challenge that narrative.
And oh my god my girl has trust issues. As a demon his mentality is severely no allies, watch your back, the one who was cast out, rejected for a first offense, shaky ground, always in danger. He's not supposed to trust others, and he has legit biblically valid reasons to be wary and paranoid. Free him from the fear of trusting someone else to take control!
2. Mr. Cool
Mr. Bond, suave, smooth, stoic, sharp angles, stylish and slick, so very dangerous and criminal, the one with the car, the rebel, the snake. Compared with Aziraphale, he's supposed to be Mr. Hardass, "not nice."
Except we know he is secretly a disaster twink, 110% a soft sad little loser under that facade (and not buried that deep either)! He is a romantic who, in spite of hell, wants to give his angel chocolates! Let him own that!
3. with Aziraphale
Let him be unequivocally, unambiguously wanted oh my god! No guessing games! No trying to decipher what the fuck Aziraphale is really saying to him! Free him from the fear of always being "too fast" or "too late." All this bitch wants is for Aziraphale to be pleased by him, by Anthony J-acts-of-service Crowley! The idea of finally allowing him that...another puzzle piece. So satisfying and healing and safe.
-------------
*They're switches your honor
1. "our side"
Not heaven, not hell. Not angels or demons. Not all black or all white. If you think they don't switch, you're wrong.
2. weight & gender
Aziraphale is bigger and keeps his hair short and has a steadiness to him and all those things are perceived as more masculine by some and therefore stronger and more dominant. Fuck that! His size also is too often viewed as something unattractive, which--extremely fuck that. My boy is a treat and a catch. He should get to feel pretty and soft in a totally uncomplicated way as often as he goddamn wants.
Crowley is skinny, often has longer hair, has an absolute treasure hoard of gender, and there's a flightiness to him that's perceived as more feminine by some and therefore weaker and more submissive. Again I say fuck that! His slimness likewise is too often viewed as more desirable, more malleable and able to be cowed; to which I say: die! He is no dainty flower. He actually can often be commanding and capable. Take him seriously.
Furthermore: Aside from the obvious fact that weight, gender, and d/s all have jack shit to do with each other, subverting these tropes remains as important as subverting the other ones. Aziraphale should get to feel delicate and wanted just as much as Crowley. And Crowley should get to feel powerful and in control just as much as Aziraphale. To deny either of them those experiences...bad! Shut up!
3. Crowley & Aziraphale
Their dynamic is already basically gentle dom Aziraphale & bratty sub Crowley. Like literally inches below the surface lmao it's not that hard to spot (see: Az pouts about paint on his jacket, Crowley instantly rushes to fix it but in a cunty way; Crowley pins Az to a wall and Az isn't even slightly intimidated or out of control).
The problem is, they're not talking (see: Az can't ask directly; Crowley has to act tough). Which is why I personally feel that a more honest d/s dynamic, with all that unspoken ritual out in the open, would be an enormous relief for them.
That said, it's not fair to confine them to that familiar dynamic! Crowley isn't a sad wet rat all the time-- let him plan things and have them work out for once. Let him be (on purpose lol) successfully seductive! Likewise Aziraphale deserves to let his fucking hair down. Let my girl not have to do everything in this goddamn house! He deserves to not have to be the one in control all the time. He has trust issues just as deep as Crowley's, and equally deserves to feel safe and wanted.
Also Aziraphale is too much of a hedonist to not want to try everything. If you think he's sticking with one dynamic you are a fool. A clown. As my French-speaking 6,000 year old middle aged babygirl would say: an imbécile.
-------------
I wrote this for me, but if you read this far I hope you enjoyed it lol peace & love on planet earth
106 notes · View notes
rizsu · 1 year
Text
carbon copies rin itoshi, rindou haitani, rintaro suna.
extra. tw: d-ath thr-at in rin's ( its not THATTT srs )
Tumblr media
“what the fuck are you doing?” concerned and puzzled, you question your boyfriend who's in a position that does not look comfortable for the average human.
rin does nothing but wave off your presence by stretching his arms upwards and tilting his upper body ninety degrees to the right.
it takes one minute of silence (and staring) before you make your way to rin, sitting in front of him with crossed legs and arms. again, you repeat your question but this time with a little sarcasm, “mind telling me what you're doing, mr. yoga-for-all?”
sighing, rin answers you back, “you just answered your own question.” and with that, he closes his eyes to continue his meditation. nothing can stop rin from doing what he does—well...unless you apply enough force to push him onto the floor.
you spend at least twenty-something minutes admiring rin. really, he's pretty and lucky that his face card can defend his attitude. deciding to not bother him any longer, you stand up and dust your knees off before notifying rin.
“rin, i'm going.” “where?” “you haven't leveled up to unlock that information!”
one hand wraps around your wrist and rudely yanks you down to its owner, rin. caging you in with both hands at the side of your frame, he leans in and repeats himself again, “i asked where, y/n.”
one, two, three blinks later you regain the function of thinking. seriously, it's so rare for rin to be so close and whenever he does it, it's at the most unexpected moments. smiling ear to ear, you tease him, “is this a curious rin? the itoshi rin?”
squinting, he sighs before leaning away, deciding it's best to wave you off again and continue his activities but not before he orders, “do as you please but call or text me when you reach.”
standing up again, you nod at him, “i'm just going back to my parents' for the weeknd!” ruffling his hair, you smile again at him to which he returns—just a small one though.
at your parents', you're lazing around in your room, looking through shopping websites while adding things you'll never buy any time soon to cart. it's a nice moment until you see a specific text that mimicked...a death threat..?
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
in the haitani's home holds two young adults, both share the same ages but different personalities. within a room believed to be the guest bathroom, you can see a whiny rindou and his girlfriend who's furiously dabbing a cotton on his wound.
rindou flinches again, biting his bottom lip hard to suppress any moan. he's currently in regret. does he regret the fight? no, he won. does he regret upsetting you with injury number ten this week? yes, he hates it when you're mad.
“it hurts..” “really? didn't it hurt when you got the injury?”
and to that, rindou stays silent. he knows more than anyone that it's best to not annoy you further but he really does want to answer. it did hurt a lot—like a bitch—but the alcohol and chemicals mixing with the raw injury hurts even more.
enduring more minutes of you (painfully) caring for his wound, he sucks in the tears in shame. i am such a pussy, he thinks. how can he easily take blows to the head but cowers at medical attention!? he believes it to be shameful.
finishing the last wrap of the bandage around his waist, you back off rindou but kept a close distance. close enough so he can't stray his eyes when you begin.
“rindou.” “look, i'm sorry but i'm not sorry for the fight..!”
his reply immediately makes you pinch the bridge of your nose. he's an idiot. your idiot at the very least. placing two hands at his cheeks, you bring him down for a kiss.
flustered, he gladly kisses you back. in fact, he deepens it by softly pushing your head closer with one hand as the other fiddles with the flesh of your waist under your (his) shirt.
“don't,” breaking away, you start your scolding, “ever come back with an injury that bad.”
a smug smile adorns his face. of course she's worried, he thinks with pride. if there's another thing rindou loves it's watching you mask your worry with scoldings.
“looks like someone's worried isn't she?”
rolling your eyes, you jab at his bandaged area before walking out, “don't act like you weren't trying to not cry.”
“you saw that!?”
Tumblr media
“hey,” a soft voice speaks, dominating over the silent room. suna pokes you, hoping that you'll wake up. after no repsonse, he does it again, “psstttttt.” again, no response. unfortunately for you, suna does not like to lose so he rolls over onto you.
“get off,” complaining, you weakly push him off but that doesn't work against him. forfeiting, you throw a leg around him, adding a little kick into it before resting it on his hip.
a mischievous smile greets itself on suna. moving your leg, he rolls off, sitting up on his elbow with his head resting on his palm, “there she is!”
you look at him for three seconds before throwing the blanket on him. it's definitely not the hour you or him should be awake. hugging his body, you step back into slumber, convincing him that he should too, “go back to sleep, rin.”
suna looks down at you, using his other hand to poke your cheek. mindlessly continuing to poke at you, he thinks he fell in love again. you look peaceful, unbothered and pretty—he must annoy you. with his mind tracing back to the first time you guys met, suna made it his main mission to annoy you. like a little boy around his crush, he couldn't express his feelings properly so he opted for annoyance.
there's only so much poking you can take until you grab his finger and bite it. clearly someone doesn't know that you're not a fidget toy.
“OW!?” suna yanks his finger, dropping down onto the pillow so he can comfort it with both hands. securing his finger tightly, he looks at you who's laughing as he's in pain.
“are you hungry?!” “NO, STOP POKING ME!” “you must be in hunger.”
Tumblr media
818 notes · View notes