#i have had other users take direct inspiration from my work in the past without credit

[ggao-acmwo-capstone]

Journey note #1 (wk2)

For the past two weeks, I have been doing most of the mental preparation and settling down on what’s actually happening with this project. Along on the side I have been doing more research on the general procedures of doing UX design research and understanding what’s a touch point to figure out what’s a pain point to users.

As I did my research I was really inspired by this phase. "Ask their 'story' not their 'answers' (Blank Design Consultant, China)" I always thought a designer is there to give an answer to a problem, but this gave me more insight into how there is more to just an answer. UX is about finding the solution to reach the answer. Without the process, the answer is not alive; and an experience designed or not, it should be alive and interactive.

Without a doubt, I have begun my project with continuous research on the topic is UX. The biggest concern I had was that this was just the beginning of new something. I hope to sort through what I’m putting myself into within the limited time and if it doesn’t sound right I can still change to something else that is possible. Up to now, I set my deliverable to be a mini-game with design documents and user research research involved. I know that this is what I wanted to do because I have never done a project myself from research to planning and developing an end result in the gaming field. it’s a big challenge for me to take this step of combining all the skills I learn from both UHWO and personal experience to make it work. However, I have somewhat lost within the big question of how this project is significant not only to myself but to the border audiences in the future.

The solution to the concern I had realized in the past two weeks after talking to a few colleagues was that I did not set or have an unclear group of the target audience other than myself that didn’t fit. As this is a challenge for me to do, my growth is significant to me but none other. However, to make this project meaningful I realize I need to change my mindset to see the bigger image for the general public. This is a project for me to experience what the daily life of an in-field UX designer would do, This can also be an example to show others who are not familiar with the role of a designer and the potential for UX design can bring to the end product.

Now I'm more clear on the direction I think I'll just settle in with my original plan. As I wrap up my research on UX design procedure and purpose, I will then jump into taking action to put the UX research on paper. The first would be creating a plan for an empathy map with a persona profile, and a journey map to further understand my target audience for this project.

[d-nghy-ck]

(btw, I’ve never said this before but I feel like I need to: if you enjoy my ideas, please come celebrate them with me <3 let’s have fun together <3 but please don’t plagiarize or take inspiration without credit or speaking to me first) 

#i have had other users take direct inspiration from my work in the past without credit #like very heavy inspiration - action by action. play by play. #that's plagiarism. #not to presume but if you like any of these more specific ideas i'm coming up with feel free to chat about them with me instead #as i share my drafts and inner thoughts #i want to be more open even if i've been stung in the past #and if you do proceed to rewrite my stories and post them as your own #just know that i live on this site. i go through nct tags daily for fun #i will always find you. and if i don't? my friends alert me as well #special note to that person who took peach tea: suq my left nut #just bc i love that work especially #and i leave room for benefit of the doubt but sometimes it's just very obviously stolen #especially if three friends come to me saying: hey this person took your work #please let's just be friends instead #now back to talking about drafts!!

[wynsnerdyrambles]

What do you think is the focal point of each breath? Like how thunder breathing seems to focus on speed, what are the focuses of the other known breaths? Love breathing seems to rely on the user's flexibility and insect breathing seems to rely on agility.

Oooohhhh the Breathing Techniques. I'm a sucker for sword stuff, and one of my favorite details in any story that makes prominent use of swords is the various forms of swordplay that exist in said world. So, of course the Breathing techniques in KNY were one of my favorite elements. So, we're gonna talk about them all.

Sun Breathing:

Sun Breathing, as the original form of the breathing techniques seemed a very logical place to start in our analysis of the focus points of each technique. Honestly though, Sun Breathing might be the easiest to identify. All other forms of breathing were derived from Sun Breathing, and as each of them focuses on more singular attributes, it would make sense that Sun Breathing is in general, a more holistic approach to swordplay. It relies on Yoriichi's Zen like state to function at its best, and is shown to feature a variety of techniques within its wheelhouse. It is the whole body, mind, and spirit, perfectly aligning into the sword strikes of someone in a Zen state.

Moon Breathing:

Moon Breathing is the only one of the original derivatives of Sun Breathing to not pass down into the repertoire of the Demon Slayer Corps in the form that we see it in, as it was only practiced by Michikatsu, who defected to the other side, becoming the demon Kokushibou. This one is a tricky one to pinpoint what's going on, as in the only form we see it in, the form has been tampered with so much by Kokushibou's Blood Demon Art so greatly, it shows very little resemblance to its former self. So, instead of analyzing the direct techniques to determine a focus, we'll instead take the thematic approach. Michikatsu was one of the first Demon Slayers to begin using Total Concentration Breathing after Yoriichi introduced it to them, and given the name of the style referencing the moon, which more dimly reflects the light of the sun, we can perhaps infer something along these lines: Moon Breathing requires much of the precise swordplay that Sun Breathing does, yet is lacking in the Zen that a true wielder of Sun Breathing must possess. It is a dimmer reflection of Sun Breathing's capabilities. In fact, given that there was some decay of the true forms of Sun Breathing as it was learned by the Kamado family, I would say that Michikatsu's original Moon Breathing might resemble the Hinokami Kagura.

Water Breathing:

Water Breathing seems to focus on the basics of swordplay, with a distinct emphasis on curved strikes and slashes. We know that Water Breathing is one of the more widely practiced styles in the Demon Slayer Corps as of the main story, with many different cultivators, as it is noted to be easy to learn. However, despite the relative ease of learning this style, I believe it is likely one of the more difficult styles to master, and I believe that the only true masters of the style that we observe in the story are Urokodaki and Tomioka, though I believe both Sabito and Makomo could have mastered the style had they lived.

Thunder Breathing:

Thunder Breathing emphasizes finishing off your opponent with a single strike, and because of this, places a heavy focus on both the art of drawing the sword, (Iaijutsu) and placing a lot of focus on the legs. (not me just barely realizing that Jigoro lost his leg, and therefore could no longer practice the forms effectively, hence his retirement). There is a lot of layering to the techniques of Thunder Breathing, as we know that mastery of the first form is key to mastery of all further forms. We also can see through Zenitsu that the first form is easily modifiable, accounting for both the sixfold, eightfold, and Godspeed variations, which I believe he developed himself, before using that base ground to develop the seventh form.

Stone Breathing:

Stone Breathing seems tailor made for intense physical strength and unconventional weapon choices. None of the five known forms of Stone Breathing seem like they would work at all for a traditional swordsman, and unlike many of the other forms, seem like they would require the user to be pretty physically powerful to pull off. So the focus here seems to be on pure physical power, alongside unique weapons.

Wind Breathing:

Wind Breathing is incredibly reminiscent of a real life sword style, namely Jigen Ryu. This style holds a high focus on high stances, as well as delivering an intense first strike, with teachings of the practice dictating that a second strike is not even to be considered. As far as things specific to Wind Breathing, the intensity and frequency of attacks should be noted. There seems to be a certain rough aggression to the style, and while that may merely be Sanemi's own personal take on the style, given we have no other sources, I would say that rough aggression is one of the focuses of the style, alongside its common ground with Jigen Ryu.

Flame Breathing:

Flame Breathing seems to focus on the energetic, passionate motion of a flame. However, that energy is channeled in a very precise manner, almost akin to the singular flicker of a candle's flame. Kyojuro's movements are energetic, but also incredibly precise. The movements are tight and controlled, but also have that passion and momentum of a fire burning. We see that the style must be incredibly precise by the way Kyojuro is able to use his sword just perfectly to deflect some of Akaza's punches, without damaging the blade at all. Flame breathing also features incredible variety in the types of strikes it employs, from the more straightforward slash of Unknowing Fire, to the almost defensive circular movement employed in Blooming Flame Undulation. Just like how a fire can be completely unpredictable, Flame Breathing seems to have a technique for every combat situation, rendering the user unpredictable in their own right.

Now we move on to the breathing styles that aren't directly derived from Sun Breathing.

Flower Breathing:

Flower Breathing was derived from Water Breathing at some point in the past long enough ago that a Sakura tree planted by the first wielder of the style is quite large in the main story. Flower Breathing places a heavy emphasis on observational skills, knowing your opponent, obvserving them and their environment to maximize chances of defeating them. Because of this focus on the gathering of information, Flower Breathing's techniques seem to be dual-purpose, serving as both methods of attack, and of evasion. The eyes are an important body focus for users of this style, as masters of the style tend to have very naturally good eyesight, as well as the final form, Equinoctial Vermillion Eye, raising the user's vision to such a high level that the world around them seems to move in slow motion.

Insect Breathing:

Insect Breathing is directly derived from Flower Breathing, and was the personal creation of Shinobu Kocho, the Insect Hashira. This style is quite unique among the Breathing Forms, as it is the only 3rd tier derivation from Sun Breathing that we know of, as well as focusing on an entirely different style of fighting than any other style. Given Shinobu's inability to cut off a demon's head, she has a uniquely designed sword, tailor made for piercing movements, rather than the traditional slashing movements. Speed is huge here, as well as taking the evasion elements of Flower Breathing and cranking it up to 11. After all, Shinobu's unique sword likely deals with additional fragility concerns, given it's function is essentially as a giant sword-shaped syringe. So, if Shinobu can inject her foe as quickly as possible, without risking a prolonged fight risking her sword's durability, that would be an ideal focus point for her unique fighting style.

Serpent Breathing:

Yet another derivative of Water Breathing, this style also seems to be the personal creation of one of the Hashira, namely Iguro Obanai. Serpent Breathing takes the 'flow' elements of Water Breathing and makes them the emphasis of the style. Obanai's sword is unique in that it's unique, but even Gotouge (who loves telling us the reasons why trivial details are the way they are) hasn't given us a reason why Obanai wields this unique blade. The blade is most similar in structure to an Indonesian Kris Blade, although with a much larger size. While there is no confirmed correlation, it seems to me that this style of sword would be at the very least, the optimal blade for Serpent Breathing. Serpent Breathing also likely incorporates Kaburamaru's role as a seeing-eye snake, likely avoiding making strikes too close to the body so as to avoid any accidental beheadings, as well as forms with very instinctual cues. In fact, of the derivatives, Serpent Breathing seems to be the closest related to its inspiration, likely only optimizing Water Breathing's styles to work best for Obanai.

Sound Breathing:

Somehow, this style is related to Thunder Breathing, although the styles seem completely different. This style makes heavy use of Uzui's njinja background, taking elements of that fighting style, and integrating them with the more conventional needs of the Corps' general fighting style. Mimicking the disorienting nature of sound and noise, Uzui makes use of small grenades, as well as his unique nunchuck swords, which notably have much larger blades than most standard Nichirin swords. This style is explosive and bombastic, and relies heavily on Tengen's unique ability to read the flow of a battle like a sheet of music. This style is pure chaos incarnate, and focuses on bringing the best out of Tengen's ninja training, as well as explosions.

Beast Breathing:

A personal style invented by Inosuke Hashibira, Beast Breathing is a distant relative of Wind Breathing. Making use of Inosuke's two jagged katana, excellent flexibility, and animal instinct, this breathing style is all rough edges and agression just barely channeled. Inosuke's excellent, animal-like sense of environmental awareness allows him to go full ham on aggression without needing to put much thought into an ambush, while also rendering him able to directly pinpoint a target in a large, chaotic crowd. None of these forms seem possible with only one sword, so it is necessary for any pupil of Inosuke-sama's to become a dual wielder like himself.

Mist Breathing:

Mist Breathing is a derivative of Wind Breathing, but seems more polished, making use of well refined swordplay, and streamlining the rough edges so key to Wind Breathing's identity. This is all for a good reason of course, for like the mist it evokes, this style is all about obscuring your movements and intent with your blade. In order to pull off feints, and other deceptive ploys with a blade, intense skill must be required to shift into the intended form with giving very few cues. Mist Breathing appears to be quite difficult to master, as the only known user of the style, Muichiro Tokito, is a literal genius with the sword. Mastery of Deceptive techniques as well as a refined grasp of swordplay is the focus of this style.

Love Breathing:

The personal creation of Mitsuri Kanroji, Love Breathing is derived from Flame Breathing, which she learned during her study with Kyojuro Rengoku. This style is incredibly personal, and it would take a miracle for someone to recreate it, given the perfect storm of Mitsuri's skillset. It takes the basics of energetic momentum focused on in Flame Breathing and multiplies it with Mitsuri's own flexibility, strength, and unique sword. It can be inferred through the flexibility of her sword that energetic momentum combined with intense flexibility is the key to this style.

And that about wraps up the breathing forms. Much like many real life fighting styles, these forms are very complex, and difficult to pin down to a single focus element. By giving a more holistic analysis of each style, I hope I was able to give you a sense of the essences of these fighting styles.

#an excuse to research sword stuff #probably more in depth than the ask really needed #kimetsu no yaiba #total concentration breathing #nichirin sword #kny meta

[eirikaanemo]

"Still, the winds change direction. Someday, they will blow towards a brighter future... Take my blessings and live leisurely from this day onward"

– Vayuda Turquoise Gemstone

Venti granting his crush a vision. In canon, anemo users are hardworking people with strong beliefs, but also those who need a break.

bonus: morax gives a geo vision to venti's s/o, making venti kinda jealous. 'hello, celestia tech support? i need to grant this one person a second vision, yeah its vital, wait don't hang up"

Good Enough

Venti x Visionless!GN!Reader

1.3k Words

Warning: gossiping (about you), self-worth insecurities

You've never had a vision, and that's never bothered you before. A vision isn't necessary to kick butt. You’re of two minds about the situation. Part of you is proud to have come so far without needing to rely on a vision. Another part of you, shoved to the back of your mind, feels very insecure about it all. Why don’t you have a vision?

As a knight of favonius you’ve spent a lot of time honing your combat skills. Hours and hours of your time are invested in improving your accuracy, strength, reaction time, and improvisation ability. You have to be the best of the best to keep up with everyone else. The fact that you rarely see those with visions training is shoved into the back of your mind. Surely they just train elsewhere.

However, the back of your mind is also where your insecurities lie. So shoving the thought back there only compounded the problem. They’re just better than you, your mind whispers. They don’t need to practice to be powerful. They don’t have to put in effort to be good enough.

All your hard work pays off. You’re the highest ranked knight that doesn’t have a vision. And you’re still climbing up the ranks. However, it’s been made very clear that the next promotion opportunity will likely not be available to you.

“Captain deputies are assigned to their departments based on vision type.” The knight had claimed, carefully avoiding eye contact with you. “Make sure that you hone your elemental abilities as best you can. Only the best are chosen for this position.”

While they had tried to be tactful, you could feel the eyes of your colleagues on you. You could hear their whispers behind your back for the rest of the day. “Do they really think they have a chance?” They whisper. “It’s a miracle they made it this far. I wonder how they even managed to make it this far.”

You try not to let it bother you. You can’t show weakness, so you go about the rest of your day with your usual expression pasted on your face. Everything is normal, you say silently. Nothing is wrong. It’s not like you wanted that promotion anyway.

Most people buy your soundless lies or simply allow you the dignity of not confronting you about it. Everything goes okay. Until you run into Venti, that is.

The two of you have been together for a while now. He’s always been a big supporter of your passion to do your best and climb through the ranks. Even times where he doesn’t see you for a week straight don’t budge his support a bit. You make as much time for him as you can, but he understands the kind of time commitment you’ve made and is willing to wait as long as you need.

And being someone who often puts up a facade himself, he notices something is wrong immediately. “Is everything okay?” He asks you gently as the two of you sit in a corner at Angel’s Share. “You seem pretty down tonight. Did something happen?”

You sit quietly for a moment, pondering how to respond. Chancing a look at him, he sends you a serene and patient smile. Venti is willing to wait as long as you need. The thought helps your nervousness a lot.

After another couple moments of thought you respond. “No, I’m not really okay,” you admit. “It was heavily implied today that in order for me to move further up the ranks I need a vision.”

He tries to keep his face neutral, the last thing you need right now is pity; but a small frown still slips onto his face. “That’s rather discriminatory,” he notes. “If you want I could bring it up with Jean. The knights aren’t supposed to discriminate like that.”

You shake your head. How Venti, a seemingly normal bard, has influence with Acting Grandmaster Jean is beyond you; but you would never want to take advantage of it.

“No, I’ll be okay,” you reply. “I’m sure they will eventually see the error of their ways. But- well, nevermind.” Your face falls as your insecurities creep forward as you remember the whispers.

“But…” he prompts you to continue.

“But it just seems like everything would be a lot easier if I had a vision.” You confide. “The extra firepower really helps on missions. There’s a kind of respect you gain when you have one. And, to be honest, people with visions are a lot more efficient.”

“You sound like you wish you had a vision,” he notes.

“That’s because I do,” you admit. A feeling of shame washes over you. How could you say that? So many people look up to you as an example of what a regular person can do. How could you just throw that all away?

“I thought you didn’t want a vision,” Venti pointed out, confused.

“I can see why you’d think that. Part of me is proud of how far I’ve come as I am and getting a vision sometimes feels like I’d be taking the easy way out. But that’s not to say I don’t want one. I’ve wanted a vision for the longest time,” you admit. “It just feels like I’m not allowed to want it.”

He hums in understanding. “I think,” he starts thoughtfully. “I think it’s okay to want what you want. Getting a vision isn’t easy, you really have to prove yourself. But you also have to be open to receiving one. Who knows? Maybe you will get one and can use the extra opportunities it grants you to open more opportunities for others who don’t have visions.”

You nod. “Yeah, I think I’d like that. A way to stay true to my roots while still being able to grow in a way I’m not able to right now. But you’d think I’d already have a vision by now if I was going to get one, you know? I hear what people say about me. Maybe they’re right. Maybe I’m just not good enough.”

Venti carefully sets his drink down on the table and turns to face you. He seems sad and almost guilty. “Do you really think you’re not good enough because you don’t have a vision?” He inquires softly. You blink, surprised at the question.

“Sometimes,” you confess.

He pulls you into a hug and moves to whisper in your ear. “You are good enough, vision or not. Whether some archon has acknowledged you or not doesn’t matter. A vision isn’t necessary to prove self-worth. You are good enough just as you are, please never doubt that. You are precious and loved and special because you are you. Vision or no vision, that will never change.”

You melt into his hug and bury your face into his shoulder. “Thanks, Venti,” you whisper. “I really needed to hear that.”

Your partner proceeded to spend the rest of the night cheering you up. He told stupid jokes and sang stupid love songs. All of his attention was on you. He didn’t even finish his drink. It was a special night that you know you will never forget.

And if you woke up the next morning to an anemo vision on your bedside table and beamed your way through the rest of the morning. If you proudly displayed in on your belt like your partner does, and held your head a little taller than usual; well, that’s your business.

And if Captain Kaeya took one look at you with your new vision, laughed, and said, “Well, it’s about time! I was starting to wonder if the archons had gone blind!” Well, your smile might have been just that much brighter.

You followed through with the idea Venti suggested, making it easier for those without visions to rise in ranks as long as they put in the work. And it felt good. But you knew deep inside, that the vision didn’t define you.

Your life continued as before, with the only change being how you trained- not how often you trained. People still looked up to you. You were still an inspiration to them. Life was good.

And yes, you got the promotion.

#eirika writes #venti #genshin venti #venti x reader #genshin impact x reader

[xhisokas-harleyx]

okay but imagine hisoka and fem!reader going for an undercover mission, in a ball (well this gives me an excuse for hisoka in a suit with his hair down looking kinda normal yk aaaaa) and he and reader are waltzing across the ballroom, with the mutual pining, the flirting back and forth, constantly one upping each other without making it too crudely sexual while maintaining eye contact no matter what (bonus points if reader doesnt get flustered outwardly) <333

I’m sorry this took so long! Vacation and a few other things happened. I took a little creative liberty with this one I think... Hope you enjoy! 😊

Part 2 is out, link at the bottom :)

I’m getting to the other requests soon!

Song Inspiration: Fire on Fire; Sam Smith

Word Count: 2700

Hisoka x Fem Reader: Fire x Fire

You sigh as you look up at the clock that acts as a guardian for the entry hall you are sitting in. As of now, you’ve been waiting for Hisoka to enter the room for about 45 minutes. You have finished your hair, your makeup, and dressed accordingly, which took a decent amount of time- however, your male counterpart for the evening is still not ready.

“Hisoka… how much longer?!” You call to the upstairs bathroom, and you sigh melodramatically. You’d have thought he was ditching you if it wasn’t in fact a mission that HE himself had invited you to. “We’re going to be late, and that will attract attention!” You groan.

“Speaking of attracting attention…” A smooth, low voice coos from behind you, and you jolt up from your seat on the bottom of the stairs and wheel around. “…You call that undercover?” He says, as his tongue flashes across his bottom lip, a sinful gaze in his golden irises.

~Because I, for one, can’t keep my eyes off of you.~ He refrains from saying that last part.

There Hisoka stands, with a raised eyebrow, admiring you with a smirk as he plays with one of his cufflinks. His pink hair is down, covering his eyes only slightly, but not enough that you can’t see the hungry look in his golden irises. He doesn’t have any makeup on, and he is wearing a clean white suit with a tie and napkin that matches the color of your dress.

Quickly, you close your mouth, fighting to regain your composure and not allow him to see your reaction to his appearance. This mission was going to be hard enough without him distracting you throughout…

Little do you know, Hisoka is currently appraising your appearance as he strolls slowly down the stairs. Your sleek (f/c) dress hugs your curves perfectly, covered in sequins that catch the light of the chandelier at random intervals. Both of your outfits are a bit flamboyant- but honestly, could you expect any less from this efficient duo?

“It’s all about catching them off guard, hiding in plain sight.” You say to him, tipping your chin upward and placing a hand confidently on your hip. “The more attention we attract, the better chance we have of fooling those around us and identifying our target early.” You smirk as you meet his witty remark with your own explanation.

Hisoka lets out a small chuckle before he opens the door for you. “You know as well as I that that logic makes no sense.” He points out with a coy smile.

“Sounds good though, doesn’t it?” You retort, walking past him without so much as a glance.

“As does everything that comes from your lips.” He says it in a deep and yearning tone that catches you by surprise, even for Hisoka.

You fight the urge to tense up- this party hasn’t even begun yet, and Hisoka is already trying to get under your skin as you’d suspected he might. Luckily, you know exactly how to bat him off.

“Hurry up.” You order, completely ignoring him; it was phase one of your plan. Much to your chagrin, this pursuit only excites Hisoka, his eyes twinkling as he watches you get into the limo that will take you to the party.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On your way to the ball, Hisoka watches you silently as you look out the window, the stars flying by as you speed to the event. You don’t even notice, until you feel that familiar bloodlust rising from his direction.

“You’re going to have to control- that – if we are going to stay undercover. We don’t know how many Nen users are going to be here.” You say nonchalantly, looking to him.

In the low light, Hisoka doesn’t speak at first, almost as if you’ve caught him looking when you weren’t supposed to. He notices how well your makeup is done- and how much care you have taken in styling your hair tonight. He loves those golden earrings you are wearing and makes a note to steal them from you later.

You notice his silence. “Hey, Hisok-“

“We are almost there, madam.” The driver tells you, interrupting your snapping to bring the pink haired man’s attention back to you… even though it hasn’t left you he saw you sitting on those stairs.

You thank the man, and you take this opportunity to affix your knife under your dress, rolling the long fabric up to your thigh and strapping it around your leg. You know exactly what this will do to Hisoka; and yet, you do it anyway, deciding to fight fire with fire.

Hisoka’s eyes widen under his bangs, and he stifles a soft moan. He does his best to look away, knowing that, despite this game you two play… he must control himself around you. Because, somewhere deep inside, he is amazed that you even agreed to come with him tonight, and he doesn’t want to scare you off.

Luckily, you are very determined to stay unabashed.

Still, his bloodlust peaks at the sight, and you use this as an opportunity to order him again.

“Nen off. Now.” You demand, dropping your skirt back to its normal position and flashing him a side glance as the limo stops.

“Oh, is that an order?” He questions, kicking an eyebrow and biting the inside of his lip, fully expecting to trip you up. He just can’t help himself. He can’t resist the urge to play this game with you, and is so impressed with the fact that you willingly (and expertly) play it too.

“Absolutely.” You reply without missing a beat. His eyes focus on you, unsure how to take your hot and cold attitude, and your apparent disinterest in his flirtation. Still, he obeys, and clears his throat, exiting the limo and moving to your side to open the door for you.

You get out gracefully, refusing the hand he is holding out to you, which both infuriates and encourages him.

“The target is an older Nen user with blue hair. Rich guy. Tons of ladies. Right?” You whisper to Hisoka, trying to confirm the details so you can begin to scout for your victim. “Conjurer?”

Hisoka doesn’t answer you for a moment, and instead, seems distracted before coming back to his senses.

“Hm? Oh, yes. Conjurer. Those women he hangs with are replicas of the prostitutes he’s said to have murdered. Perhaps talking to them could be our key to finding him.” You weren’t questioning how he knew all of this, but glance at him.

“So you’re going to use this as a speed dating service.” You state, rolling your eyes, though your comment is meant to be more funny than mean. Hisoka, however, looks to you with a confused expression.

“You wound me!” He chuckles in response, dramatically clutching his chest, but taking great care not to reveal the actual hurt underneath. Is that what you saw him as?

There is an awkward silence between the two of you, but as you walk into the entryway of the mansion, you put on your acting expressions and begin to scout out the crowd. There are hundreds of people, live music, drinks, and conversations happening all over the large abode, and in an instant, you feel a bit overwhelmed.

“We should split up.” You suggest. Not that you wanted to leave his side, but wouldn’t it be easier to find the target this way?

Unbeknownst to you, your suggestion slightly upsets Hisoka. He had hoped you would stay together, but he doesn’t protest; he nods, and you two go your separate ways. However, you find yourself glancing in his direction as he slips through the crowd, a pang of guilt stabbing your heart.

~~~~~~~~~

An hour or so later, you have still had no luck locating this bastard, and have decided to stop at the bar for a drink. You know that you’re supposed to be working, but how can you relax at all without a break? You order a drink from the bartender, and promptly begin to down it, leaning on the bar and analyzing the crowd. You can’t help but think of Hisoka, and how handsome he looked in his proper outfit which was so different than what you normally saw him in.

Often, you wondered if his flirtation was just that and nothing else; or whether there could be a chance that he feels morefor you. There were times when he could be so caring toward you… but he did have the tendency to be fickle and dishonest with his emotions.

As much as you hated to admit it… you felt morefor him. He wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea, you liked that about him. You had the ability to see through his apathetic exterior to the human underneath. You didn’t know whether that made you a hopeless romantic, or just plain crazy.

Suddenly, you see a flash of pink hair in the far distance, breaking your fantasy. It is Hisoka, shining like a diamond just next to the dance floor. A wave of relief washes over you briefly, and you set down your drink to make your way toward him, quicker than you’d imagined.

However, the sight you see there before you made your stomach flip, and you question the flirtation you’d just fantasized about. Through the crowd of people, you can see Hisoka talking to a bunch of nicely dressed ladies, a drink perched in his hand like he was some aristocrat. They seem to be laughing at just about everything he said, and one of them has the audacity to playfully touch his lapel, which set you off.

Now you were disobeying your own advice as your bloodlust piqued. Your fists clench and you begin to trudge toward the large magician, who doesn’t seem to notice your presence. That could not be more false, however, and he smirks to himself as he feels your approach, parting the crowd and traversing the ballroom dance floor.

Your high heels, however, have another idea: to ruin your night.

Your heel twists, and you trip over your own feet, a few people gasping as your body flies toward the floor. However, your momentum is stopped by the stern body of your audacious savior.

Hisoka pulls your arm past his neck, his strong arm wrapping around your waist and holding you flush against his body. A few of the people clap at the display, the women especially noting how dashing this charismatic man is, and how lucky the woman in his arms must be.

Obviously, they didn’t know the real Hisoka…

“If you wanted to dance, you could have just asked.” Hisoka notes softly, with a hubristic undertone. The way he holds you, however, is soft and careful, his fingers spread along your waist as he pulls you to your feet. You scoff, and look away, but you can’t bring yourself to pull away from his pleasing embrace. Still, you’re mad at him, and you don’t show your flustered expression outwardly.

Without your permission, Hisoka begins to move your body in tandem with his, guiding your hips to the beat of the new song playing in the ballroom.

“You look angry, (Y/N).” He notices your expression and rigidity but doesn’t stop moving his feet. It’s a rather timid tune at first, however, at the bridge of the song the tempo began to pick up, and you easily accommodated. You two begin to tango across the floor, much to the delight of the people watching your display in awe.

“We’re supposed to be working, and you’re over there flirting.” You scold yourself inwardly as you realize he’s going to have a heyday roasting your obvious jealousy.

“Ah, and you were working at the bar when you were sipping your cocktail?” He retorts fluently, surprising you. He has been watching you this whole time and was perfectly willing to never let you know it!

Hisoka whips his hair out of his eyes, his bangs parting just long enough to reveal to you a flash of his enchanted yellow eyes. Somehow, that hungry, almost pleading look behind his irises melts away your fear that he doesn’t feel anything for you. And from that moment on, you can’t break eye contact with him, as if he’s holding you under some sort of spell.

~God, that was hot.~ You think, but you are determined to keep your cool and not show all your cards, so you shoot him an equally suggestive look that makes his blood boil. Your eyes make him go crazy. He can’t take that look in your eyes, the way you encapsulate your emotions within them makes Hisoka lose his breath and feel a little weak in the knees (not something he’s used to). Both of you are too caught up in each other to realize how much you are both leaking bloodlust.

“Jealousy looks good on you.” He smirks, twirling your body around him, and catching you in his arms.

“Hm.” You smile, beginning to have fun with this performance. “I look good on you, wouldn’t you say?” You retort boldly, not expecting Hisoka to take it quite so seriously. His smile fades, and as you twirl back to him, the song dies down, and Hisoka bends you over his knee, hanging your body in his balance.

His gilded eyes have never looked more intense and sincere. Your comment seems to have uprooted his act, and his forehead presses to yours as it seems he is devouring your soul with his eyes.

“I couldn’t agree more, y/n.” He breathes against your lips at the closing note of the ballad, hoping that you’ll confirm his hopes and take the leap of faith he needs you to in that moment.

Your heart begins to skip beats, and you can’t hold your act any longer. Your cheeks are painted with a deep red shade, and your neck begins to crane. Somehow, on the fly, you are unsure. What would all of this lead to?

Your thoughts of leaving Hisoka hanging are interrupted by the annoying screech of one of the women from before, spewing a slurred, “Way to go, Mr. Horatio!”

Horrible fake name aside, this makes your jealousy skyrocket as you realize she’s talking about your white knight.

You turn back to him with the fire of Hell in your eyes, and meld your lips with Hisoka’s with such ferocity that it takes him off guard, and for a moment he is completely star struck. The taste of your lips ignites such a passion within him that his hand moves to your hair, tilting your head back with a gentle tug to allow him better access to your sensitive parts. His obsession for you is on full display, and he doesn’t care who sees it.

As you break for air, his lips move excitably to your neck, the both of you completely forgetting that you are in the middle of a mission and a whole crowd of people. Neither of you seem to care, and if Hisoka has his way you’ll end this party with a bang.

The guards have a different plan.

“The Magician! I’d recognize that Bloodlust anywhere!” Someone shouts, sending a force of guards your way. Hisoka can’t help but smirk in that general direction, and without a thought, he unleashes the full weight of his bloodlust, and scoops you into his arms protectively. “I think we’ve overstayed our welcome, darling. Let’s head out.” He purrs. Somehow, even being chased by a force of guards, which he could easily annihilate, he is as enticing with his voice as ever. You have not the power nor will to disobey that honey-like, nuanced voice that turns your resolve to ash. Instead, you are content with the view of his hair flying in the wind as he gracefully bursts out of the mansion, running with you in his arms.

You’re completely enthralled with him, and he knows it; he feels the same about you. But as the house vanishes from your sight, your eyes widen as you remember one key detail.

“Hisoka… WE DIDN’T KILL THE TARGET!” You panic, as he slows; you’re far enough away to be safe now.

Hisoka chuckles warmly, which confuses you.

“Not to worry, y/n. I killed him days ago.” He says matter-of-factly, anticipating your reaction at hearing that the party was completely unnecessary. “My place?” He skips past it like it’s a minor detail.

Your body tenses.

“Hold on…YOU WHAT?!”

~FIN~

…I could see a very NSFW Part Two for this... -///-

Part two is here!!

https://xhisokas-harleyx.tumblr.com/post/660568203654774784/in-x-this-x-moment-hisoka-x-reader-pt2-to-fire

I loved this prompt. So cute. Hope you all liked it! <3

#hisoka x reader #hisoka morow #hisoka #hxh #hunter x hunter #love #reader insert #fanfic #y/n x hisoka

[mack3030]

Things the Sims 4 Community Can Do About Paywalls...A Post...

[This is going to be a bit long, so you may want to save it and read it when you have time, or just...you know, buckle in.]

I thought I would ring in the new year by talking about something that I feel we as a community need to finally decide on. (It’s been debated since 2017 or so, and it’s now 2021...) I’d like, if possible, to try to suggest some real solutions and choices that we can make that will hopefully create a better and more honest community out of all of us.  Now I would like to start by making some postulates. In geometry, postulates are facts that do not need proven with a mathematical proof. They are assumed to be true. Thomas Jefferson and the founding fathers would call these “Self-Evident Truths”. I would like to use these as a bit of a basis for my arguments. 

Truth: The Sims 4 has been enough of a cash cow for EA.  If you buy the base game ($40) plus all expansion packs (40 each x 10) + all game packs (20 each x 9) + all stuff packs (10 each x 17) you would come to a total of seven hundred and 90 dollars ($790) plus tax. This is of course, without sales, bundling, etc, which many people DO take advantage of, but STILL. That is a TON of money for EA’s pockets.  EA makes a majority of its money on the fact that the Sims 4 is an “incomplete game”. It “completes” the game further and further by adding more “expansions” to the game to the point that it seems almost useless to buy the base game alone without adding to it. 

Even with sales and other things, it’s easy to spend over $500 dollars on the sims 4 game + expansions. Still a lot of cash for a game that is years old. This is just money that is spent on the game that goes to EA. This does not account for:  * Money spent to buy a new computer because your old one wouldn’t run the sims.  * Money spent supporting CC artists who have donations open or early access.  * Money spent on access to sites that have ads/paywalls/exclusive sims 4 CC such as Leosims, etc. (Which are the problem, frankly)

We should be able to respect the fact that a majority of us paid a hefty amount for this game. It is unfair, and frankly greedy to REQUIRE people to pay MORE just to unlock or gain access to specific user created content. 

I am not talking about a VOLUNTARY support or donation because they like what you offer. I am talking about FORCING people to pay if they want to ever be able to use the CC or mod you offer. 

Now, the typical defense for this is “Well, I’m an artist! I spend time/effort/etc working hard on these meshes, the code, etc to make this content!”  Which leads me to point #2. 

Truth: Mods, CC, and other content for the Sims 4 are useless without the game. Once they are created/uploaded to the game, all copyright to those objects IMMEDIATELY transfers to EA. 

I teach art in a Missouri public school. Our state standards dictate that when art students are in middle school grades, they have to learn about copyright, fair use, and creative commons. While I am not a copyright lawyer, I have had to learn enough about this subject to teach it. So allow me to break down a few facts about copyright: 

First, when ya make it, ya own it. There’s not a process to apply for a copyright. The moment you create something that is 100% your own work, you hold the copyright to it. 

Second, when you make something that is created based off of or USING someone else’s intellectual property as a reference or resource it is a fan creation. In art, we call this “fanart”. It is not 100% your own work. Someone else’s intellectual property is involved. 

Fan creations always have tread a very thin and shadowy line when it comes to different companies and the legality of them. You can easily search google for various articles explaining it, but to summarize it in a short method: 

Most companies do not actively go after those who create fan creations unless they are making profits that could instead be going to the creators of the intellectual property. If the fan creation is discovered to be making profits and/or taking the intellectual property in a direction the creator does not approve of, they have legal options to pursue (court, cease and desist letters, etc). 

Third, Copyright can be transferred from person to person. In most cases this is done through a written document that both parties sign, however there IS an exception to this that EA uses to allow itself to transfer your copyrights to your content to them: 

EA’s agreement with you is non-exclusive, meaning that the moment you hit “agree” on the sims 4 terms and conditions, you have handed over your rights to any CC you create for the game. 

If you want to maintain full creative rights over the mesh/mods/etc you make then, you have to not make that content for the sims 4 and make your own platform to host it on. This is way easier said than done. 

Truth: There have been various examples in the past of CC creators who have stolen meshes, bases, bits/pieces of work, or “inspiration” for CC from other sites/companies, who have been called on it publicly. 

The most recent event concerning this was drama concerning itsbrandysims and their use of meshes from imvu/secondlife (you can see my opinion on the subject HERE), but there have been other documented cases. Leosims, for example, has been listed as an example of someone taking meshes from secondlife creators and reuploading them (when it was told to me, I was shown THIS thread as evidence). Another well known creator was accused by a former sims 4 cc creator (who now makes content from second life), and was called out in THIS post in 2019. 

The horrible part of this? Many of these creators are charging people (often at not so great rates as well), for STOLEN content. Content they don’t even own, that they ripped from another place. This should not be accepted by a community that loves a game as much as the Sims 4 community.  Truth: EA has provided a way for people to make money while not hiding content behind paywalls entirely, and the INTENT of this was to OFFSET COSTS.  Almost every post about content locked behind paywalls features this post found on the Sims Forum from 2017. In it, SimGuruDrake, who was the community manager at the time (she has since left the Sims 4 team for another job).  Most of you who have seen this discussion topic before know this post by heart, but I’d like to highlight one important aspect of it: 

One thing that is always important about communication is the intent behind it. The intent for people to be allowed to make patreons and allow early access wasn’t so people could just make money for themselves, the idea was to offset costs to buy programs to make the content. For example, a yearly subscription to Adobe Creative Cloud (which has photoshop, illustrator, etc) costs a couple hundred dollars US a year. If someone was using photoshop to help them create their CC in addition to blender or other free programs, EA/Maxis wanted to allow the creator to not have to pay for making the CC out of pocket.  Can EA/Maxis control what people spend the money they make off of patreon on? No. But it should be noted that the intent of this action was to help people pay for supplies for their hobby more than to make a business out of it. 

Onto the next truth! Truth: There is an image that disputes this post above, however the authenticity of it and timing of it are very disputed. 

This image is often thrown around by people who lock content behind paywalls, but I would like to take a second and try to provide an honest assessment of it.  First of all, I have a bit of a problem with the fact that the original person who “messaged” SimGuruDrake this question has not been identified. This image was not posted on the tumblr of a CC creator who claimed “Hey I reached out to a sims guru and this is the answer I got!” The main pages that have this image are either tweets from CC creators using it to defend their stance on paywalls (ex: here), or tumblrs/tweets “debunking it” (ex: here, here).  I even reverse image searched this image using google, and another platform and could not figure out where this originated from. Of course, I’m not an expert, but...still. 

The fact that the origin of this picture is unknown casts doubt on it. If it were a well known CC maker who is known for being honest, that’s one thing. But the fact that we don’t exactly know where it came from is suspicious. Because frankly, anyone with some decent editing ability could photoshop this. 

Here’s my imperfect edit, but I’m just a self-taught graphics nerd and I am not as dedicated at faking screenshots as some. (And the crap photo quality didn’t help.) Another common issue is that at the supposed “time” that this question was being asked, some state that SimsGuruDrake had already left the Sims 4 team. I will admit, this photo is within the correct timeline, as SimsGuruDrake did not officially depart the sims 4 team until February 2018. (There is a post on the sims forums that has a timestamp that confirms this.) But, if you were in the process of leaving your job within the next month (as a two week/30 day notice is common when leaving a job), would you REALLY be answering questions in DMs on twitter, or be focusing on packing up, and training your successor?  The last thing that really makes me doubt the validity of this picture is the fact that it’s not really easy to message the sims gurus on Twitter. This appears to be twitter from the screenshot (although there are some things that are a little out of place from the current UI): But when I attempt to direct message a sims guru I get this message: 

I even tried seeing if I could reach out via DM to Drake herself, (who now posts under a different twitter) to see if it was possible: 

Could the policies have changed since 2018? Possibly, but I feel that opening up direct messages is just asking for Sims 4 team members to get angry messages, so this could very well be a long running EA policy. I have also reached out to her via a twitter tag (as of 1/2/21), and will update y’all if I get a reply:

Okay, so now that we’ve gone through all of this, let’s talk about the last truth that’s really important:  Truth: Putting content behind paywalls has generally been considered disgusting by many in the sims 4 community, and TAKES AWAY the choice of people to support CC creators they love/appreciate WILLINGLY.  A few notable posts sharing the disgust with this practice can be found: HERE, HERE, HERE, HERE, HERE, HERE, HERE & HERE). And these are just what I can find from a simple precursory search.

Okay, Brainiac. So what can we do to solve this problem? 

Well, there’s a few methods we can employ, and sadly, it’s going to take a bit of a commitment and concentrated effort from the community. 

Step #1: Make the COMMUNITY the VICTIM instead of EA. 

Now when I say this, I don’t mean we’re actually victims, but mean that instead of constantly saying things like “WHEN YOU DO THIS YOU VIOLATE EA’S TOU!”, thus making EA the “victim” of the crime. We change the dialog to saying “When you lock stuff behind paywalls, you cheat the sims 4 community and disrespect their choice to support you or not.”  Because let’s be honest. Maxis/EA really doesn’t give much of a care about if people aren’t following this rule. You can report people to the team, but as far as most people have seen, it doesn’t get anywhere. But if we make it where the community is the party being “wronged” it is much harder for those who have paywalls to not be scared. Because the community, in the end, has to be with them.  DepthofPixels had a really amazing post about this HERE. 

Step 2: Decide to not support anyone who puts their content behind exclusive paywalls and do not hesitate to spread the word about why you choose not to do so. 

By that, I mean

not paying any patreon accounts that don’t offer either their content 100% for free, or offer early access.

And sharing about why you choose to do that on your social media. Something I might suggest would be to make it a bit personal and share something like:

Instead of spending $15 a month to get exclusive content from Leosims (or any other patreon/paywall creator here) I’m spending that $15 supporting creator x, creator y, and creator z, who don’t put their work behind paywalls! 

Link their patrons, share why you like their content, and why you take the stance to make the community better. Make it a positive thing, praising the people who are doing RIGHT by the community. 

Yes, you may not get their content for a while (although there are some different places (

x

,

x

) to find them *cough*. But in the end, is it worth supporting someone’s content when they’re treating the community badly? 

Step 3: Report creators who actively steal content from IMVU/secondlife to those respective companies, and all others to EA. (Even though nothing may happen.)

Here’s the deal. When people steal from either of those sites, they are infringing on someone’s copyright, as well as Imvu/secondlife’s copyright as well. It’s not okay, and they should be held accountable for it. Here’s the LINK for submitting a ticket to Secondlife. I haven’t been able to find one for IMVU, but maybe someone else will find one. Let those companies know and allow them to handle those specific creators.  As to the other creators, EA may not handle them at the moment. But IF (and this is a wishful thinking “if”) there were suddenly a flood of messages about certain creators...? I think they might have to pay attention to some of those messages. There is an official report form, but it might even be worth tweeting to SleddingGuruFrost, who is the current community manager asking about their stance on paywalls.  And last but not least: 

Step 4: Make sure that those who are doing the right thing and not putting their work behind paywalls feel appreciated. Show them some love via a tumblr ask, or by tagging them on twitter, or by going up a tier on their patreon (or pledging for the first time). Celebrate these heroes who are creating content and not forcing it on us. 

Us asking for people to give us a choice to support them isn’t being greedy, or disrespecting their time. We just want transparency, and respect from those who create content for the game we love so much versus them treating us like we’re just a source of income. I know it might seem a bit hard to do this for some of you, and for some it may seem like I’m preaching to the choir, but we have to decide where we stand on this issue and stop letting those who abuse this system keep doing it. We can make a difference if we decide as a COMMUNITY to work together.

With commitment,  ~Sunny

#sims4cc #sims4mm #maxismatch #sims4alpha #sims4cccommunity #paywallssuck #downwithpatreon #EA #maxis #TOS #thievessuck

[guro-giri-letters]

imagine... the dabi hair dye scenario but one of the league finds/sees him and decides to help? my heart

(SO, I totally meant this to be shorter but I got a little in my feels. Plus the lowkey Dabi and Mr Compress friendship is so underrated, I adore it. Anyway, here it is, a little comfort fic.)

The Boy Can't Cry - By Guro. ♡

/Dabi gets overwhelmed dying his hair to cover up his past and Mr Compress comes to his aid. Any fics like this where it’s just the league interacting together I’m going to lovingly tag ‘League of Family’. Hope you enjoy! ♡/

/Tags l Tw ; Dabi being emotionally unstable, some cursing, Mr Compress being fatherly, friendship, league of family. ♡/

“How can a man head a group of villains…” Sako murmurs aloud to himself, pulling another card from the messy pile upon the small table between his knees. Sighing, he flicks it into one of several other smaller piles he’s made around the main one, tsk-ing to himself quietly. “...but he can’t keep a pack of cards together. Really.”

Pure boredom, and an inability to get himself over to sleep, is what inspired one Mr Compress to take up and look through Shigaraki’s deck. It’s late in the night now, maybe early morning, and he’s sorting each of the cards into their respective groups by lamplight. It’s a comfortable, mindless task, the showman dressed down to his shirtsleeves and balaclava. In the rare quiet he lets his mind wander, and wonders where Shigaraki had gotten the cards from.

Had he stolen them? Or were they given to him? Gifts from his master, maybe. Either way dearly cherished, he decides, running his thumb over the faded face of an ace of hearts. He’s pondering still when the quick tip-tap of feet on metal steps reaches his ears.

“Mr Compress!”

Blinking, he lays down his hand and turns to find Toga halfway down the rickety staircase, hand cupped around her mouth dramatically as she whisper-yells. Her eyes are big and wide in the dim light, uncharacteristically appearing almost… frightened? What? Right away Sako is on edge, cards forgotten. “What is it dear?” He asks, lowering his own voice in response to her whispers. His worry only grows as Toga’s lips seem to tremble, looking over her shoulder before back to her elder.

“It’s Dabi…” She replies quietly, hugging her arms around her nightdress-clad self. “Somethings wrong with Dabi.”

Sako isn’t sure what he’s seeing at first as he nudges in the bathroom door. Toga is at his back, gripping his sleeve and peering around his side as the door falls slowly open. The old tiled room is lit by dim, yellowed light, and he can just make out Dabi’s shape hunched over the tub at the far end. “He keeps talking to himself-” She murmurs, only to jump at the sound of an open growl, Dabi’s form twisting to glare over his shoulder in their direction from the shadows.

“Get out, Toga.” The burnt man snarls, sending the girl flying away without hesitation. Sako watches her go, a little shocked at her fear in the face of her own comrade. Dabi doesn’t even seem to be looking right at the doorway, stark blue eyes wide and lost. Vacant. Thick, inky black lines run down his face and throat, dripping off of his chin. What the hell is he doing?

“What’s going on, man?” Sako demands, crossing the threshold and approaching Dabi where he kneels. “What’s gotten into you? You’re scaring Toga.”

“Fuck you.” Dabi snaps back, fingers digging into his hair. The same black sits in smudges over the back of his neck, staining his pale fingers. In the dark it almost seems like the villain has been infected, taken over by some dark, miasmic mess. Squinting up, Sako reaches and with a gloved hand, twists the hanging bulb around in it’s socket. Suddenly the room is filled with brighter light, everything coming into focus, and he looks down at Dabi.

His eyes widen a fraction.

Dabi’s coat lies discarded on the dingy floor at his side, the villain kneeling, almost unnaturally bent over the shallow bathtub. His body is shaking, chest expanding and falling rapidly as he scrapes at his own scalp. His hands are trembling, veins visibly risen up on their backs. It seems like he’s working the blackness into his hair almost desperately, hushed words falling barely audible from his lips. “-away. Get away.”

“Dabi?” Sako tries again. And this time he gets a reaction; Dabi’s head twisting to glare in a manner almost animalistic. The black has run in streams down his face and into his eyes, scleras bloodshot deep red and burning. He can’t even see right now, Sako realises, without the ability to produce tears to get rid of the chemicals. Being so close for the first time, he takes note of the sparse, white hairs appearing in his league-mates' thin brows. Oh.

“Get out, Compress. Get out-”

“Do you need help?” He ignores Dabi’s demands easily. The young man isn’t himself right now, and his voice is hoarse, even more gravelly than usual. In response to his question Dabi’s hands clench in his hair, tight, tendons bulging as his knuckles turn white. Sako can hear the strands tearing and grabs for Dabi’s quivering hands. “Good God, man. Stop it!”

“Get off of me!” Dabi practically howls, twisting out of the older man’s grip and slipping, slumping shoulder-first against the side of the tub. He seems to deflate all at once, his head hanging low. Sako can only stare at him, his heart pounding with adrenaline and hands still outstretched, Dabi’s breath comes quick and loud, his own hands coming up to cover his face. He’s an utter mess, what Sako has now deduced to be black dye staining his hands, shirt. Everything. A stretch of silence passes between them, and then Dabi makes the last noise his companion expected to hear.

For a moment he thinks Dabi is laughing, finding some kind of twisted amusement in all of this. But then it starts coming louder, his shoulders shaking, chest and throat convulsing uncontrollably. A dry, hacking cough leaves his throat before he presses his palms harder against his face, knees pulling in close to his body. A noise like barely concealed sobbing reaches Sako’s ears.

He’s crying.

Well… no, the boy can’t cry. He knows this; Dabi’s tear ducts have been damaged beyond repair for years now. But his body still betrays him, shuddering through bouts of broken weeping, dredged up from somewhere deep inside of him. It feels almost wrong, Sako thinks, to see him so vulnerable. It’s clear he’s witnessing something deeply personal. A moment of distress so jarring that Dabi holds fast onto his own arms and curls in on himself, almost like he’s trying to comfort himself.

Almost like he’s done this a hundred times before.

The feeling of Sako’s arm wrapping around his shoulders makes Dabi jerk, looking up with bleary eyes as he stoops down to his level. “What are you doing?” He snaps weakly, but there’s no real conviction in it. His nose is running, his voice broken up. Whatever kind of mental breakdown Dabi is currently having, the older man simply can’t bring himself to leave him. Doesn’t want to leave him to fall apart on his own.

“Quiet.” He admonishes, crouching before Dabi and pulling him closer bodily, so that his head comes to rest on Sako’s shoulder. Still breathing raggedly, Dabi stares at a space somewhere on the wall beyond Sako’s shoulder for a while before his eyes close, a worn out sigh leaving his lungs in pieces. No attempt is made to shove him away this time. He gives in.

At one point in his life, another entertainer had told Sako that when a child hugged them, they should never be the first to let go. ‘Because you never know how badly they might need it’, they had said. Keeping his arms around Dabi and remembering that message, he tightens his grip a touch, resigning himself to remaining in a crouch and getting sore knees. Not that Dabi is willing to be held for very long. He pulls away with a sniff, hand on Sako’s shoulder to keep himself steady. “Fuck- my eyes.”

He’s not wrong. His eyelids are irritated and swollen, both his regular skin and the grafts beneath. Sighing, Sako loosens his grip and lets Dabi lean back, against the side of the tub. “Put your head over.” He advises, straightening to his feet and pulling off his ruined gloves.

“Why?” Dabi rasps.

“To wash the chemicals out of your eyes, Dabi.”

Dabi considers this with a glance at the dirty tiles then nods his head once. He looks, to put it in a word, drained, straightening himself up and turning to rest his elbows on the tub's edge. Sako watches him as he finishes rolling up his sleeves, shaking his head slightly.

“Where on earth do you young people find the energy to get so worked up?” He chides, not cruelly, turning the faucet and cupping his hand beneath the sluggish flow of water. With his free hand he brings Dabi’s head over the lip of the tub with a nudge, and brings his cupped hand to the fire-user's face. Dabi hisses but doesn’t recoil as Sako rinses the remnants of dye from his face and eyes, pausing only to say; “I’ll do your hair.” and washing the remainder from his unruly mane. His skin will stain for a while, but it’ll wash away in time. He’ll be alright.

To his credit, Dabi has stopped shuddering and seems to be slowly coming down. Slumped against the lip of the tub he lets out a long, slow breath, sniffing and wiping his nose on his forearm. “I feel like I’m gonna throw up.”

“Hold it, I’m almost done.”

With the sting in his eyes finally dulling, Dabi cracks them open halfway to watch the blue-black water flow down the drain. His throat feels suddenly raw, aching. His face hurts.

“Compress.” It hurts to talk. Jesus.

Sako shuts the water off when Dabi’s hair is running mostly clear, a brow arching beneath his balaclava. “Yes?”

“...don’t- Don’t go telling them.” He manages, fingers twitching where he holds the edge of the tub. “I don’t-”

“I understand.” Offering the cleanest looking towel in the room, Sako gives Dabi a faint smile, nodding when he pulls it from his grip. “It’s not for us to know… Are you alright?”

Dabi rises slowly, using the ledge to pull himself up before rubbing at his freshly dyed hair. There’s a moment of hesitation, then; “Yeah… thanks, Compress.”

Sako smiles fully now, spreading his arms and giving a short bow. “I do what I can.”

Dabi snorts, pulls the towel down around his shoulders. “I owe you, I guess.”

“Well… how do you fancy aiding my endeavours to organize Shigaraki’s card collection?”

“No thanks.”

“Understandable.”

#mha #bnha #my hero academia #league of family #lov #league of villains #plf #paranormal liberation front #dabi fic #dabi #toya #toya todoroki #mr compress #atsuhiro sako #dabi and mr compress #comfort #comfort fic #wholesome #just dudes being dudes #oh toga also makes an appearance #himiko toga

[frobin]

Okey serious question here. How much do you actually believe that Oda ships Frobin? Like do you think he actually have like doodles/sketchs of them in a pairing kind of way? like for the strong world film riding the motorbug? (Personally i would love it to be true but he has stated one piece isn't about romance in that way)

Hey there anon! Thank you so much for your question and I hope I can answer it seriously enough. Also once more sorry for the late response. I felt like a question like that needs some research and that is what I did these last few days.

So... I think I'll start with the tl;dr because that way people can read that and ignore the rest.

So, long answer short: I 100% believe that Oda has one or more sketchbooks with drawings of his characters that are absolutely self-indulgent. I am 98% sure that he has drawn Franky and Robin in a romantic way at least once (and supported the ship). I am 80% sure he still is shipping FRobin.

Little disclaimer: I actually have no idea if any of this is true. I pull everything in my arguments out of my own experiences and knowledge and since I'm not a 46 year old Japanese Mangaka my perspective might be WAY OFF.

argument - reason- example - conclusion... behind the cut (or in the google doc)

So, why do I think that Oda has a secret sketchbook?

Simple answer is that he is an artist. He is drawing a lot and no artist will publish everything. That can have multiple reasons like imposter syndrome or because the artist thinks it’s not good or interesting enough or they just forget. There are even more reasons I forget and every person has their own.

For Oda I can imagine two big reasons as to why he would keep secret sketchbooks.

First: He is a horndog. You can skip this part if you don’t want to read about it, to the second reason.

Anyway, we know thanks to answers in the SBS, the way he likes to draw big-breasted women and how some of his characters are classified as perverts that he can be considered one too.

Let me show you a few of a few lewd SBS questions he likes to answer in a funny way:

Chapter 228, Page 46

D: How are ya, Odacchi? I know how much you like getting butt-naked, so this must be a favourite season for you. <3

O: Yes, yes. I just LOVE getting completely naked. In the summertime, after I take a bath I just run STRAIGHT OUTSIDE!! And when the girls' softball team running on the sidewalk looks over at me, they say, "Yup, it's really summer now!!" ... AS IF!! I'D GET ARRESTED!!!

(x)

Chapter 433, Page 68

D: If Lady Robin can use her Hana Hana Powers to make any part of her body sprout somewhere else, does that mean she can do it with her ample bosom as well? "Nyurin-zaki" (Breast Sprout) Boy, I'd like to take a hit from that sometime... P.N. Ero Ero no Mi Devil Fruit User.

O: "Ichirin-zaki" (Single Sprout) "Nirin-zaki" (Double Sprout) "Nyurin-zaki" (Breast Sprout) Very clever!! NO IT'S NOT!! STOP THAT!! I'm sure she CAN do it though ♡

(x)

Chapter 798, Page 64

D: Oddachi, I'll give you a pornographic book, so please answer my question. Sanji won't allow anyone to waste food, but what will he do if a woman does so? P.N. Smoker's Cigar

O: I think he would grab the plate and eat it up. Now please give me the pornographic book.

(x)

Nowadays I’m sure there is a focus on those lewder questions compared to the beginning because that is what 13 year old boys laugh about and we all know that is Oda's main demographic (of course).

I think a very good picture of that is given by Tekking101 in his breakdown video of SBS Volume 100.

“Let’s get diving into these questions (...) now, this is a huge moment. I mean, not many Manga manage to reach 100 Volumes, Okay? Now I know Oda usually starts these off with questions relating to boobs and things that don’t really… you know, aren’t really relevant but you know, this is a big celebration so we’re gonna dive right into it. I bet the most important things that we need to know about the One Piece Story are right here in these pages, okay? I printed them out. That is how important this is. So let’s start off, shall we? Epic voice, Barry!

‘Mister Oda, there is a UFO over there with huge big-breasted beauties on it. That memorable 100 Volume of the SBS is about to begin.’

[pause] Yeah, like the first five of these are all related to boobs in some way. You know what Oda? Sticking true to your guns! Godspeed, Sir Oda. Godspeed.”

(end at around 2:30)

So, Oda is a man who likes beautiful women and who draws.

Coming to the conclusion that he will draw his own characters in suggestive poses, naked and even doing adult stuff is not hard.

Obviously he would not show these sketches just around. He would probably keep them in a secret sketchbook that he keeps at a safe location. Maybe his wife and some close friends know about it? Maybe it is his and only his little secret.

I don’t think it would be unlikely to learn about this years into the future, maybe the next generation of Anime Fans will hear about this.

And it would not be the first time that something like this happened.

Not that long ago the daughter of Osamu Tezuka - groundbreaking Mangaka, known for his works of “Astro Boy”, “Kimba the white lion” and many more - found his adult Furry art. Source; Japanese article;

It’s a fact that many Mangaka did indeed start their career with art of the more risque kind and/or as doujinshi artists.

So again, I have no doubt that Oda, a known pervert, has one or more secret sketchbooks with „the p0rnography“ in it. Is there only hot stuff in there? Not necessarily.

The second reason to keep a secret sketchbook would be to collect information in there, that could be considered canon but he is not willing to use it in the Manga. Maybe they are not important enough or will be used later.

What am I imagining here? Anything that could be considered too weird for the normal sketchbook but isn‘t too risque. Funny things that might still not be „appropriate.“

Like a sketch of the male Strawhat ding-dongs with the sizes beside it. All the lewd jokes the fans did about Luffy's stretching qualities? I’m sure Oda thought about them too and drew that in the past if he had the time and it made him laugh enough.

But also maybe there are scenes in there that never made it in the Manga. The Strawhats interacting with each other in their daily lives, ideas for colorspreads and maybe chapter-titles. Oda probably has noted/sketched down a lot of unofficial stuff somewhere.

Another example, even an artist like Oda himself would have needed to exercise drawing two people kissing. Why not use Characters he thinks that might work out together?

Why not Franky and Robin? I would imagine he sketched up a few panels of Franky and Robin having a romantic date, going shopping together in Dressrosa, having a conversation that we never got to see because it was too on the nose.

Which brings us to the second point of me being very sure that Oda had drawn FrankyXRobin at one point.

I’m sure in those sketchbooks there is at least one drawing of them doing anything couple-related together. Again it does not have to be downright nasty but it could be them holding hands, kissing or even just Robin leaning onto Franky while reading, like all those fanarts that exist out there.

It’s not hard to imagine. Even for other Characters I think that is possible

And there might even be proof for that idea. The sketch of the Strong World movie you also mentioned, anon. The one movie that can be considered canon is Strong World. It was basically written/directed by Oda. Shiki the antagonist had an appearance in the Manga.

This sketch is drawn by Oda. Robin is holding onto Franky.

Can it be read as romantic? Yes. Can it be read as Robin holding onto Franky because there is nothing else to hold onto? Also Yes. But couldn't she just have used her power to keep herself secured on the bike without holding onto Franky? WELL YES. Could Oda never have thought in these circles like I do right now? I hope he did not because I hate it and I don’t wish it upon him.

In the movie Robin is NOT holding onto Franky. Now the really interesting thing - that is neither proof pro nor anti FRobin - is that we can see the sketch provided by Oda as a “between the scenes”.

In the movie Strong World the old trio is collecting information at the Pirate assembly. The next time we see them they use the Batta GT-7000 to slowly approach the destroyed village, which had been ravaged by the animals, and start to look for their friends. No need to hold onto Franky and no need for Brook to lean back. They are looking around.

The sketch is clearly not the same scene as the one we see in the movie.

In conclusion the drawing is indeed a between the scenes drawing. And yes if there exists one, who is to say there aren’t more?

Talking about Animal-Bikes...

Is there any meaning about the fact that in the opening scene (that is part of the talked intro after the opening ‘We Go’ - a huge thanks to antiherofangirl, ccb0nnet, JFL_Estudios and Maems, over at twitter!) Franky and Robin build another grasshopper-based vehicle? Maybe not but I still feel like it’s quite a callback.

Where did the idea to put this in the beginning come from? a) an editor had the idea inspired by Strong World; b) maybe it’s another sketch that Oda provided.

Neither seems very far-fetched in my opinion.

So yes, I am very sure that Oda has drawn things that we would consider FRobin.

Now to the last point (the first being Oda having a secret sketchbook, the second me arguing that Oda might have drawn FRobin).

As I said in the beginning I’m very sure that at one point Oda did and kinda that he still does ship Franky and Robin. Because even though every Interaction of two characters can be depicted as romantic or platonic, Oda used ROMANTIC TROPES with Franky and Robin.

They have never kissed on screen but we had

finishing each other's sentences

coordinated clothes

one using the others lap as pillow

hand on cheek caressing

and we can’t forget that Robin had answered Franky's invitation to ride on another animal-themed bike with a heart.

Edit: I didn‘t say anything about „no romance in OP“ so ask again if you want me to talk a bit about that. Sorry!

Those are things an author of Oda's level would not write or draw without being aware about how teasing this is. He has to be aware that every single line he draws will be analyzed to the end of the universe and back. People earn money by saying their opinion and interpretations about the Manga on Youtube.

These interactions are not something outlandish like “There was once an Anime Scene in which Robin was wearing something blue and exactly 28 episodes later Franky was wearing something violet and then 39 episodes later they both stood beside each other for exactly 69 seconds.”

Whenever I think about these facts, things that are not about interpreting but are factual, black ink on white paper but also about the little things, about how Frank and Robin help each other to become better, how they support each other… I want to say YES! ODA IS 100% on board! While in reality I’m 80% sure and 20% of me is wondering if I’m not actually analyzing too much into it. If maybe he really is abandoning ship. Maybe I will become the person who will curse his name and throw my Mangas and fanfictions in an active volcano?

I don’t know and it’s impossible to say what is going to happen.

And with that I've concluded this answer, and it only took me around 2k words and four days.

#FRobin #One Piece #One Piece Meta #Odas secret sketchbook #One Piece analysis #Adult themes #Notreally Frobin #long post #2k words #ask #modpost #kon #boy this was something #sorry about any mistakes

[wishingicouldfly]

I've been actively blogging for more than six months, even though I've had a tumblr account for ten years. I started reading One Direction (specifically Larry) fanfiction about the same time.

Originally, I read exclusively canon compliant fiction--I was hungry for industry insider, what-could-have-happened narratives. But I've slowly branched out into other genres. I find fanfic--good fanfic--super calming. When I've had too much stunting, too much noise, I grab a fanfic and immerse myself. So I thought it was time to do a post about my favorites. Keep in mind, I'm terrible at cataloging, and I have over 150 bookmarks on my A03 Account, so this is by no means an exhaustive list.

I'm not including the classics like Tired, Tired Sea and Escapade. While I do love both of those (so well written), because a lot of people know about those already.

My all time favorites are by @helloamhere

1. The Multipicity of Powers - https://archiveofourown.org/works/28580229

Maybe in another universe he isn’t different. Maybe he hadn’t been given an impossible choice. Maybe he wouldn’t have lost everything and broken everything and then fallen impossibly, irrevocably in love with the first next thing that was kind. Maybe in that universe he doesn’t feel like he’s never breathing, always pretending, teaching the kids even though they all have to learn alone, trying hard not to read the headlines, and so afraid, every day, that he won’t be a good enough teammate to the superhero he can’t live without. He knows that love isn’t supposed to feel this way, slid secret under your skin like a surgical razor, an invisible war held close over the tender vein that keeps you alive. On the other hand, Louis wonders, had he ever known how to do it any other way?

Maybe there’s a universe where he doesn’t have to keep all his secrets on the inside.

But this isn’t that universe.

//an X-Men AU.

Me: I never thought I'd love a super hero 1D cross over, but this is so well done. The backstory, the pacing, the characterization, the friendship. Read it.

2. Saving Symphony Hall and it's prequel Night Out - https://archiveofourown.org/works/12633921

“I think I have an idea,” Louis said. Slowly, and reluctantly, but with a growing sense of the inevitable. “God damnit, I think I have a really good idea.”

“Oh christ, that's the problem-solving face,” Babs said. “Last time we saw that face, he sold a company.”

“Wait, what?” Zayn asked.

“Right place, right time,” Louis said. “Also, fuck my life,”

“What?” Zayn repeated. Niall patted his hand.

“I usually just roll with whatever Louis is about to do,” he said. “It’s better for us all.”

“That’s the attitude,” said Louis, “I’ll tell you tomorrow. Tonight, I need to do some research. Zayn, give me your number. I’m gonna save our symphony.”

Me: The best sex scene I've ever read is in the prequel Night Out. Sexy, but tender. I love the characterizations in this duo--ABO but not traditional. Doesn't feel out of character.

3. Just Let Me -https://archiveofourown.org/works/11695350

The party was going well. So well, Niall had already sworn undying love to one multi-tiered chocolate cake, two friendly corgi-poodle mixes, Zayn’s hair, and the entire population of Los Angeles. So well, Zayn had only laughed and ruffled Niall’s hair and not even twitched towards a cigarette. So well, nearly everyone had spilled far past the boundaries of the night’s original plans, extracting bottles of vodka from the cabinets and losing a lot of clothes. Harry had proclaimed that he was finally going to throw a small and very grownup dinner party and of course here they were three hours later, fifty people half-naked in the pool. Soon to be full-naked, if Louis had to guess. Everybody in LA loved a heated pool. Everybody loved Harry.

Me: I love love love this. Harry is so gentle, and Louis is so stubborn and needy. It's ABO but subtle. I'll read this one again and again. It's comforting.

@HelloAmHere is one of the best writers I know--amazing stuff. I also love their werewolf story, but it's not finished, so I won't link it here.

Other favorites:

1. Seven Up by cherrystreet - https://archiveofourown.org/works/5828539

Very loosely based on the British TV show "The Up Series" and somewhat inspired by the song “Something I Need” by Onerepublic, we follow the lives of Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson in an interview setting every seven years. They fall apart and come together, their lives and emotions recorded. Harry calls it a time capsule. Louis calls it a pain in the arse.

Me: Trigger Warning, major character death. I literally SOBBED through the end of this. It was lovely and devastating. So good. But be warned.

2. Light, Spark and Fire series by @greenfeelings

Life’s pretty ordinary for Harry. He lives with his best friend, got into university just like he’s planned, and manages to support himself just fine for an unbonded omega. If he sustains that lifestyle by getting paid to help alphas through their rut every now and then, that’s nothing to be hung up on. Until he’s hired by an alpha that turns everything upside down.

Or, Louis and Zayn run a music label, Liam is Britain’s up-and-coming pop star, Harry’s working on taking Louis’ walls down until he builds his own up, and Niall holds them all together without realising he does.

Me: A nice healthy three-parter. Characters you just want to live with for a while.

3. Relief Next to Me by dolce_piccante - https://archiveofourown.org/works/1117942

AU. What happens when a baker and a graphic designer meet via a very specific Craigslist post? Fate, friendship, food, and maybe more.

Me: This one is super long, so be prepared when you dive in. It's got a lot of lovely bits, and some great smut.

4. 2012 'Verse by ashavahishta - https://archiveofourown.org/series/27601

Me: This is a five-parter and satisfies my love of canon compliant stories. It spans most of 2012 and into 2013, and illustrates the difficulties of Harry and Louis' relationship amid the band success and management disapproval.

5. Love After the End of the World by mercurial-madhouse (writing_practice) - https://archiveofourown.org/works/31251434/chapters/77248901

Society shattered when all electricity suddenly cut off across the globe, plunging the world into darkness. Now, Prometheus Industries is the sole remaining supply of power, a saving grace to those who survived Lights Out. As fugitives in no-man’s land struggling to break into Prometheus HQ, death lurks around every corner for Louis and Zayn. Things get complicated when a routine recon falls apart and Louis collides with Harry and his mates Niall and Liam, survivors with their own agenda.

When staying alive is already a constant battle, the deadliest weakness is to be in love. For Harry and Louis, finding each other sits on top of the endless list of What Else Could Go Wrong.

Me: Really unusual (as far as I can tell) end of the world story. I loved the characterizations of soul mates here at the end of the world.

6. Flightless Bird by audreyhheart - https://archiveofourown.org/works/6401653/chapters/14656807

AU where Louis Tomlinson is a principal dancer with The Royal Ballet. When his rival from ballet school, moody dance prodigy Harry Styles joins the company, old wounds are reopened and old passions reignited. During the company's production of Swan Lake the secret that doomed their love is finally revealed, but will it be too late?

Me: Trigger Warning, sexual assault (by an original character to a major character). This was a little brutal because I hated to see a broken Harry, but it was well written and has a happy ending.

7. Wear It Like A Crown by zarah5 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/1816771/chapters/3900322

AU. As part of a team of fixers hired to handle a gay scandal in Buckingham Palace, Louis expects Prince Harry to be a lot of things—most notably a royally spoilt brat. Never mind that the very same Prince Harry used to star in quite a number of Louis' teenage fantasies.

Me: I loved Louis in this one--actually they are both pretty great. Scratch that, they are ALL pretty great.

8. Shake Me Down by AGreatPerhaps12 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/3331958/chapters/7285322

Harry's new to college, fresh out of Catholic school and conversion therapy camp, and Louis runs the campus LGBTQIA organization.

Me: I don't like the self-hate here, but it was necessary for the story and H comes around. Found family vibe.

9. Gods & Monsters by Velvetoscar - https://archiveofourown.org/works/2090982/chapters/4550871

The instructions were simple: seduce and destroy Harry Styles. Not once did they discuss the option of Louis actually falling in love. So, naturally, that's exactly what he did.

Me: I loved Harry in this one. Louis gets there. I don't like Liam, but I don't think you're supposed to. Zayn is great.

10. Own the Scars by crinkle-eyed-boo (KimmieRocks) - https://archiveofourown.org/series/1010796

Louis has never felt like he was good enough: for his stepdad, for his life-long best friend, for the life he's supposed to want. After an accident that nearly costs him his life, Louis' parents send him to rehab where he’s forced to face his demons. On the long and difficult road to recovery, Louis must confront the truths he’s been avoiding about his future, his relationships, and his sense of self-worth. Because before he can love anyone else, he’s got to learn how to love himself first.

Me: Harry is lovely in this one. Trigger warning, substance abuse and near death.

11. Wild Love by purpledaisy - https://archiveofourown.org/series/1030904

AU: Two best friends try to date each other for forty days. It's supposed to be fun until emotions make it complicated.

Me: I loved this way more than I thought I would. It's lovely and messy and I love it.

12. Victorian Boy by audreyhheart - https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosann1986/readings?page=6

Victorian AU. Harry the virgin Duke of Somerset knows little of love, while Louis the sly Duke of Warwick knows too much. When the two dukes come together for the Bilsdale fox hunt in York, Harry finds himself drawn into Louis' bed. But when secrets from Louis' dark past come to light, Harry fears that the fox isn't the only one being hunted.

Me: Historical fiction I didn't intend to love. I LOVE Harry in this one. LOTS of smut, so be warned.

13. Keep Me Closer by zanni_scaramouche - https://archiveofourown.org/works/30752633

Louis expects Harry to react poorly, maybe even file a formal complaint and that’s gonna suck ass but Louis won’t say shit cause he knows he deserves it, so he prepares an apology before Harry’s even turned around.

What he doesn’t expect is Harry to fucking drop.

Me: lovely, protective Louis just trying to do the right thing.

14. Turning Page by purpledaisy for SockstheDog

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11826345

AU: Harry Styles tries to get lost in a place he’s never been.  Louis Tomlinson has been perfecting the art of being lost for years. What they don’t expect to find is each other.

Me: sweet love story. Niall owns a bar, and is pretty great.

15. Freedom Always Comes With a Price by Cyantific - https://archiveofourown.org/works/30278514/chapters/74624262

A shared dream brings them together onto the X-factor stage, but one decision changes Harry and Louis’ lives overnight. Thrust into a world of instant stardom, they're forced to live a lie to sustain their dreams, but years of living in the shadows and under strict management takes its toll.

With the bands impending hiatus, there’s no better time for change, so they think.

Desperate for a solution, they turn to an unlikely source with a radical plan. An unfortunate accident sets everything in motion, but not how they intended, leaving Louis’ memories altered, Harry broken-hearted and full of regret.

Can Harry figure out a way to fix everything? Will he even want to once he sees how Louis moved on after the hiatus? Will Louis ever find out the truth of their past and can he forgive Harry after all this time?

In the end, two friends find out that memories are elusive, trust is everything and love is the only antidote.

Me: Heartbreaking when they lose each other, but really good in the end.

16. Little Technicolor Things by scary_crow - https://archiveofourown.org/works/6025519/chapters/13821628

Louis is a poor writer and recent university graduate, depressed, anxious, and living in London when he meets Harry, an artist with a secret who likes to paint sunrises and pretty boys from California.

17. Hold You Now by solvetheminourdreams - https://archiveofourown.org/works/30253536/chapters/74556744

Three years ago, Harry Styles said goodbye to communications consultancy firm McQuiston Worldwide, leaving a life of travel and agency PR behind. When he accompanies his best friend to a family wedding across the Atlantic, he'll be forced to reopen old wounds and face his past—one that no one wants to hash out, but may just have to.

Me: Niall is great. They almost miss each other in this one, and you just want to bash them over the head. But they figure it out.

18. At Risk, I Fold by clare328 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/26542480

2015 is a stream of hotel rooms and whisky on the rocks, tired glances and touching hands under tables. It’s the bears and the bees under a rainbow sky, and Harry and Louis have to figure out how to grow up together, instead of apart.

Me: A canon compliant fic that feels like it could have really happened. Set in 2015. Lovely first chapter and scene where Harry writes If I Could Fly--i could read that chapter over and over.

19. Into The Blue by zarah5 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/1035822/chapters/2065499

AU. In which Louis is Harry's scuba instructor and quite happy to provide the requested special treatment, pun fully intended. It can't be all that difficult to convince Harry that they're on the same page, right? Also, Niall and Liam may or may not be dating, and Zayn is surrounded by emotionally stunted idiots. He bears it with dignity.

Me: AKA the Scuba fic.

20. Tie Your Heart by ArcadianMaggie - https://archiveofourown.org/works/546688/chapters/973236

Harry grows wings.

Me: How can you not love a fic where Harry grows wings? Trigger warning: injury of a major character.

21. I think I'll end this here. My last and probably first favorite (read it more than once) is...

my heart is breathing for this moment in time by usedtothebeach - https://archiveofourown.org/works/934996/chapters/1820282

When Louis first saw Harry at the 2010 X Factor Auditions, he thought he was watching a peculiarly special stranger. But Harry has known Louis ever since he was five years old.

Because Louis has a rare genetic disorder that causes him to Time Travel to important moments in his past and in his future - and to Harry, always to Harry. When they're put into a band together, it seems like everything Harry has been waiting and wishing for has finally come true. Except for the small fact that Louis doesn't know that Harry is in love with him- that Harry's always been in love with him. Fate, it would seem, is just getting started.

A story about growing up and growing together, and the impossible love that makes it all worthwhile.

Me: I LOVED the Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger, and I'm a huge fan of time travel, so this is right up my alley. It's really well done, weaving canon into fantasy and then going years forward in tme. I love everything about it. Great character development. Really good smut. Trigger warning, there's a little underage sex, so be aware. Anyway, LOVE this one so much.

I'll add to this but it's already longer than I meant it to be.

#fanfic #recommendations #fic suggestions #my favorites #Larry fics #I love the love

[hopeymchope]

Parascientific Escape: The sci-fi “escape room” visual novel-style series nobody talks about

I can’t help thinking that Parascientific Escape would probably have an active fandom somewhere on the Internet if it wasn’t TRAPPED ON THE 3DS ESHOP.

I mean, it’s an escape room-centric visual novel-style sci-fi Japanese game that is clearly inspired by Zero Escape and very anime in its style. There are endearing characters, including optimal waifus/husbandos, plus a gradual buildup of an interesting fictional world full of political intrigue, its own countries, its own companies, and of course... psychic powers. Because you can’t have a trilogy of Japanese visual novel-style games featuring escape room puzzles without mental powers, now can you?

But as I said... they’re trapped as download-only titles for the 3DS. That’s fucking brutal. 

Even so, there’s a pretty big 3DS/2DS user base still in existence. It’s not like they’ve never been translated or something, so at least we have the capability to play them. So if you look into them, what are you getting?

A basic overview: Parascientific Escape is a trilogy of anime-style games about solving escape room mysteries and tracking down evildoers via the use of psychic powers (obvious Zero Escape influences). There’s an overarching plot about a mysterious mastermind who believes it’s time for the recently emerged psychics of the world to take their place as the next evolution of humanity and get their own nation (obvious X-Men influences).

They don’t work very well as standalone stories; each story relies on information from the last one, culminating in a game that stars the protagonists of both parts 1 and 2 together as they finally unravel the motivations behind the events of the whole series and face off with the people behind everything. In addition, the escape room puzzles start out pretty easy in the first game build to be pretty frustratingly obtuse by the tail end of the third. And on top of all that, each game taken on its own only contains about 3-4 escape rooms. So when you bundle all three together, that’s when it all works as a single satisfying package. 

Don’t worry about burning a lot of cash to play the whole series, however. The three games are $5.00 US each on the 3DS eShop and are usually on sale for $2.50 each these days. I got the entire trilogy for $7.50 US!

So let’s break down the gameplay and setup in a little more detail. Don’t worry; I won’t give any spoilers that go beyond the first five minutes of any game in the series. The twists and turns are part of the fun here.

The first game is Parascientific Escape: Cruise in the Distant Seas. You play as  Hitomi Akeneno, a high school girl (because of course she’s a high-schooler) with the dual abilities of mild telekinesis and a type of clairvoyance that lets her peer past barriers or into the insides of objects. She finds herself trapped on a sinking cruise ship where some mastermind keeps systematically locking her into isolated sections while she’s trying desperately to escape. 

I really liked how you could look inside of an object with clairvoyance and then use her telekinesis to manipulate the various switches and levers within, gradually pulling some object you need out from within a maze. I also thought it was clever how the solution to a new escape roomight require you to backtrack to a previous escape room to investigate some object or area that wasn’t relevant to that previous room’s original puzzle. 

(One of the things I found most fascinating about this one is the ethical debate raised by Hitomi’s friend Chisono regarding how Hitomi got herself involved in all this. Chisono offers a perspective that is extremely unusual to see in most fiction. You can even say it’s pretty cold, but it’s not without having some merit to it. I don’t want to say too much about what I’m talking about, though; it’s better left as a surprise.)

The second title, Parascientific Escape: Gear Detective, almost seems standalone at first. You play as Kyosuke Ayana, a private detective and actual adult (!) who is 22 years old. A young woman shows up at his office and asks to hire him for protection. See, there’s a serial killer on the loose, and she believes she’s the next target.

We are swiftly told that Kyosuke was once in an accident that necessitated the replacement of his left arm and right eye. He volunteered to be a guinea pig for some very special prosthetics that granted him artificial psychic powers. As such, he now has “chronokinesis” — to the power to look back in time. However, he can only look back for five days, and he only has limited ability to move or manipulate the things he sees in the past. 

Naturally, Kyosuke’s investigation winds up trapping him within some escape rooms that require use of his unique abilities to solve. Some of the hints at the proper timestamps or exactly where you should be looking when you peer into the past are a little vague, though, which can cause momentary frustration. Because I like to always be making forward progress, I actually preferred Hitomi’s telekinesis/clairvoyance powers from the first game. Still, Hitomi had some pretty basic puzzles in her rooms. I can’t deny that these puzzles took more thought.

Outside of the escape rooms,  everything is undeniably a huge improvement. The first game presented strictly linear segments of storytelling between the rooms, but this one is more of an adventure game. You can choose where you go, select from a limited menu of things to do when you get there, and do all of it in any order you like. There’s usually a correct sequence order to progressing the story, but it’s typically pretty clear what the next step is, so it’s not like you’re just flailing about and trying a bunch of locations blindly. Besides, there’s no way to get stuck, so don’t stress it. There are even a lot of actions you can take that have no impact on story progression at all — they’re just there to generate additional dialogue that further develops the characters. 

The tradeoff is that you actually get fewer escape rooms overall. The first game had four, but the second only contains three. This is also the first game in the series to introduce multiple endings; you get a number of dialogue choices throughout, and unfortunately, it’s far too easy to trigger the “bad” ending. There are guides online to help you trigger the Gold Star “true” ending, however. Just hit up GameFAQs. You might want to use the guide on your first playthrough, because I can say from experience that it’s annoying to have to replay all the dialogue sections just to make the correct choices. (Luckily, you can skip over any irrelevant sections of each chapter — including the escape room puzzles.) 

In spite of my above whining, the second one is probably my single favorite story in the Parascientific trilogy. It’s a lot of fun.

The final game in the trilogy is Parascientific Escape: Crossing at the Farthest Horizon. Mysterious characters who were plotting offscreen for the previous two games are finally given faces, locations that were talked about extensively in both are finally visited, and the two protagonists of the first couple games finally meet and team up. It’s absolutely a culmination of what they set up in the first two.

The narrative jumps around from the perspectives of many different characters, but the most time is undoubtedly spent with Hitomi and Kyosuke. Sadly, there is no gameplay usage of Hitomi’s powers this time; the escape rooms are all done with Kyosuke, and they are more devious now than ever before. Personally, I found the next-to-last one to be incredibly obtuse and frustrating. I ultimately had to consult a video playthrough on YouTube for that. (The YouTuber in question didn’t seem to have the same issues figuring things out that I did. So I guess your mileage may vary.)

The “adventure game” segments make a return here as well, although they’ve also become a bit tougher to figure out. There are a couple of times when you might find yourself wandering the various location options, clicking on every possible action to try and progress. Luckily, there aren’t so many default options that you’re left flailing for very long. Even the longest period of clueless wandering lasted me a maximum of 15 minutes.

Once again, you have to make the correct dialogue choices if you want a positive ending. And once again, GameFAQs is your friend and co-pilot.

Ultimately, even the gated endings and occasional puzzle frustrations did little to curb my enthusiasm. I really had fun with these characters and their stories, I greatly enjoyed the majority of the escape rooms, and I was pretty satisfied with how it all wrapped up. The character designs/artwork get better and better as the series goes on. The selection of music tracks may be the same throughout the whole series, but I really dug on them, so I can’t complain. Do I have any other misgivings? Well, just one; the English localization is pretty sloppy. There are a pretty large number of typos, and the dialogue can sound stilted and awkward at times due to being a direct translation. It’s actually at its worst at the start of the first game. Luckily, after about 30 minutes of playtime, it settles in and finds its voice.

Seriously, they should really figure out a way to re-package these games for another system that doesn’t use the the dual-screen setup. Put all three of them together, and it’d easily be satisfying as a full retail release!

But for now, if you have a 3DS/2DS, they’re only $7.50 in total most of the time (and $15.00 at the worst). Do you like adventure game-style mysteries and visual novel-esque progression and, of course, escape rooms? You should give these a shot! And I hope these devs get to make games with bigger budgets and better localizations in the future.

#parascientific escape #parascientific escape: gear detective #parascientific escape: cruise in the distant seas #parascientific escape: crossing at the farthest horizon #3ds #2ds #3ds games #2ds games #video games #visual novels #Kyosuke Ayana #hitomi akeneno #escape room games

[samwrights]

I Found You

I have no excuses for this one except I’m a dirty dirty Overhaul fucker.

On the real though, this one was very loosely inspired from Yagami Yato’s plot lines for Dabi and Overhaul. These routes inspired the Underground and Dabi and Kai’s occupations, otherwise everything else was just me being a simp.

⤞ Pairing: tattooed!Reader x Former Villain!Chisaki Kai

⤞ Word Count: 16,850. Yes you read that right.

⤞ Warnings: language, arson, awkward questions, reader smokes, I shafted Dabi again and made him the best friend...again, slightly vivid gore, mentions of death, male masturbation, daddy kink, age difference, breeding kink (ish), dirty talk, dom!Kai, 

I’m sorry this is so long. Just kidding, no I’m not. I love writing really long fics. Honestly, I’m trying to see how much I can push the boundaries of my writing and how long I can keep one idea conhesive and consistent and how much I can flesh out. Eventually these longer oneshots will be cross-posted to my AO3, I just really need to do my paper. Also Tropium Tattoos is pronounced as Tro-Pie-Um.

The color of fire always burns in accordance to temperature as well as the material that it’s burning. Watching the local Underground clinic slash orphanage burn not only red, but an almost ethereal green from the copper couplings and details of the building felt like an early Christmas warning—like the Underground was a target and the rest of the hidden city would soon follow by the holiday. That warning was only followed by disgust at the thought of someone feeling the need to go after a free clinic and orphanage in a city built out of a hollow sewer full of exiles for whatever fucking reason. 

Your heart is an amalgam of aching and sorrow and anger as you watch the flames burst through the windows of the shoddy building from a safe distance. From where you stood outside of your tattoo parlor only two blocks down, you see a crowd beginning together. Much to your surprise, most of them were only kids with one adult herding them—a man you recognized to be the owner of the building currently meeting its demise. 

The doctor of the clinic is as calm as ever, or rather trying to be, quietly attempting to do a headcount of his children. It seemed that concentration was alluding him, given the situation, because he swears up and down that he knows he has nine kids. Yet, he seemed to be unable to count past eight. He’s trying not to panic, but one of the kids speaks his greatest fear into fruition. “Daddy, Eri’s not here!” Golden eyes widen until the sclerae are fully round, pupils constricting in fear. This ‘Eri’ was special, you realize as you observe from a short distance away. The doctor is looking back at his children who are all in some form of tears and shambles then back at the burning building like a ferocious game of ping pong. Chisaki Kai can’t just leave his kids out here—not when he is almost certain that this attack was premeditated. But his daughter, his eldest daughter at that, was still inside potentially being engulfed by flames. 

Back and forth. 

Back and forth. 

Your body moves without a second thought. 

Your body moves, ignoring the screams from other bystanders for you not to go inside the burning clinic as you burst past the dilapidated red door. Upon entering, copper decor and steel support beams had fallen from the ceiling, sparking flames that were separating you from the stairwell that led up to the orphanage. There was no way you would be able to find this Eri person through the wreckage—not alone at least. Maybe your dumb quirk was good for something. 

You didn’t even realize you had a quirk until the age of twenty when you had gotten your first tattoo. It wasn’t anything crazy—a traditional-style three-eyed wolf’s head on your arm—only to wake up the following morning with no soreness, no tenderness, and no ink on your body. The wolf laid beside you, curled up in your bed, somehow manifesting into real life. At first it was terrifying, of course, but after learning how to return the creature back to your body you realize it might not have been a total waste of money. Your quirk, something you jokingly called the Magic Pencil quirk in reference to a Spongebob Squarepants episode from your childhood, was officially registered through the government on the Surface as Life Canvas. Again, it was a pretty dumb quirk unless you knew just what to utilize. Now your body was littered with dozens of creatures, weapons, hell even a telephone just in case you might need it. But the wolf was your favorite, as it was your first, and he was just the one to call for in this situation. Activating your quirk, you pinch at the ink on your forearm until it begins to peel off before setting it down on the ground. The line work stands on its own before the ink fills out into a three-dimensional mass and a now recognizable creature. 

“There’s a child somewhere here. Help me find them,” you implored your creation, cautiously climbing around the shambles while it did the same, though much nimbler than you. Fragments of the stairs were missing, some of railings were in flames—it was hard for you to get anywhere at the moment. A scream rips through the walls, a young girl you realize. She’s probably now seeing your large and somewhat creepy three-eyed wolf. Maneuvering carefully, you find spots that have yet to burn until you see a little girl cowering away from flames in her bedroom and away from your quirk. “Take my hand!” You try to scream, but the way building was going down was deafening. Instead, you cross a patch of fire to scoop the frail child in your arms and trapping the both of you behind a brazen wall of flames. Patting the wolf on the head, as if deflating it with your magical hands, it flattens back into a two dimensional drawing and returns to your body to grant you the ability to switch out to a manifestation that would prove to be more useful in this situation. You repeat the process, this time with a Phoenix from under your bosom that emerges just outside the window closest to the two of you. “Hold on tight,” you tell her as you pull her flush against your own body before smashing through glass to land the back of the Phoenix, covering her head to make sure the shards didn’t mar her skin. With a gentle descent, you place her feet first on the concrete with her family. 

“Eri!” The doctor of the clinic calls out in relief, arms wrapping around his daughter tightly. Your lips purse in a small, tight smile before you’re off on your way again, riding off into the horizon on the back of your strange creature. And for a moment, Chisaki Kai is torn between going after you to thank you while Overhaul wants nothing more than cleanse his children and you for touching his precious daughter with a vile quirk. He settles on the former, golden eyes watching your back disappear into the dark cavern of the Underground city. 

Weeks had passed since the fire burned down the orphanage clinic. Tabloids were published trying to figure out who the mysterious hero was, though most of the articles feared that an actual Hero was among the residents of the Underground. The Underground welcomes Heroes like the human body welcomes the plague—they tried to be eradicated and killed off. Not to say that quirks themselves weren’t welcome, no. It’s just that most of the residents were quirkless and those that did have one were all registered in a public database, separate from the government mandated one up on the Surface, so that quirk wielders were no secret. 

All but you, anyway. 

One of these well-known resident holders was Chisaki Kai. Quirk: Overhaul. Local doctor and caretaker of the orphaned, quirkless kids. Though, whether their powers had yet to manifest or he had removed them himself due to his vile distaste for the genetic mutation was unknown to the public. 

Another was the leader of the Underground: Dabi. The Cremation user who was presently lounging in one of your dingy, beat up sofas of your tattoo shop. “You know, most of the people just want to know who you are,” he supplies, flipping through the most recent news article. Instantly, he knew it was you that had rescued the little girl from the burning building, knowing full well of your quirk regardless of how rarely you used it. 

“And half of them want my head because they think I’m a Hero,” you spit the last word out as you finish tidying up your workspace. Your last client of the evening had just left, leaving you to close up shop while Dabi came to bother you as you did so. Not that you complained considering he had been a close friend for a long time. “Like I would ever be a Hero.” Heroes were the reason you and many others here in the Underground existed in this hidden sewer metropolis. Whether the Heroes had destroyed their livelihoods, their families or, in your case, accidentally killed your parents while you were still a teenager and you had nowhere to go, they were at fault for the creation of this cozy, dingy city. 

“Says here that Eri wishes to personally thank you,” Dabi adds, turquoise eyes flickering in your direction as you stop at the mention of her name. “We could hold some little rally, get you a medal—“

“Dabi, no.”

“—or you could just stop by town hall with me. Overhaul and the kids have been staying there while the clinic gets rebuilt.” You mull his words over in your head while capping all your ink bottles and putting them away in their respective drawers. Dabi takes your silence as a gesture of you thinking, even more so as you aggressively sanitize your client chair. “Come on, [ name ], she’s just a kid.”

“Yeah, but I hate kids.”

“Then stop acting like one.” With that, the leader leaves your shop, bells tolling as he exits. You weren’t being childish, you internally bite, silently and stubbornly. It wasn’t your fault that you didn’t want to just announce that the lone tattoo artist of the Underground had a quirk that the public didn’t know about. It wasn’t your fault that your body moved without thinking. And it certainly wasn’t your fault that you rescued the daughter of the most notorious quirk hater in the city. 

Chisaki Kai was not quiet when it came for his distaste of quirks despite having one himself. Rumors floated all around the Underground that all of the children in his care had their quirks removed by his own hand, Eri included. What kind of monster did that? To his own child, no less. The thought made you sick to your stomach, only reaffirming your initial decision to not meet with Eri. 

But thinking of her brings great sadness to you. She was merely a child—a child who probably didn’t understand her father’s distaste. A kid who just wanted to thank the woman who saved her and nothing else. A sigh passes your lips as you head up the stairs from your shop to your attached apartment, turning off the lights to Tropium Tattoos. It’s not fair to deny her, you think. 

Maybe you’ll just sleep on it for now. 

 The following morning was quiet, as it was every morning in a city built out of a sewer. But eerily...too quiet. The sound of chirping nature and wildlife was a foreign concept now, especially years later. But there were no sound of bikes or clunky old cars passing by or arguing neighbors—if noise was present at all, it was in the form of faint crackling and crinkling of papier-mâché but somehow on a grander scale. It was new. There’s a grotesque smell in the air; a cross between a stale bonfire and rotting wood and warm smoke. 

Oh no. 

Oh fuck.

Panic fills your veins, throwing your nearly bare body out from under the covers. Ripping open your bedroom door and flying out the narrow entryway that led to the stairwell, you’re met with orange flames burning the wood of your staircase leading down to your shop. There’s no time for you to think about anything other than retreating back to your living room, to where the flames had yet to enter the threshold. Glancing out the large bay window behind your couch, you debate how steep of a drop it is from your second story down onto the cold pavement without sparing a second thought to how you could break your own fall. Contemplation wears down at your time to escape, you realize, as the fire is now entering your living space and burning brightly like a firework and catches onto the wooden console table in your entryway as well as the walls. Without another moment’s hesitation, you throw yourself through the window, bracing for impact from both the glass and the inevitable shattering of at least one bone. 

“[ name ]?!” You hear Dabi yelling over the sound of collapsing support beams from the inside of the building. All that’s on your mind is pain—throbbing pain and an ear-splitting cry as you try to cradle your probably broken arm from the back alley of your shop. Dabi calls out your name again, running over towards you while still trying to be somewhat mindful of all the shards of glass in fear of accidentally kicking more in your direction. Between rapid breaths, a few heavy coughs escape your lungs, no doubt from smoke inhalation. “I got you,” he murmurs as he picks you up gingerly. Another groan leaves your lips—your whole body hurts and were you more coherent and not in shock, you probably would have realized sooner that you’d broken more than just your arm. “Find who did this and bring them to me,” Dabi snarls at the small squadron behind him attempting to put out the fire that was destroying your livelihood as he makes his way back to town hall. 

It takes everything in Dabi’s body to not stamp his entire way back into his living quarters and the only reason he isn’t is because he’s carrying your busted body. This is the fourth fire in two weeks with no discernible pattern. All he knows is that it started with Overhaul’s clinic and now has somehow reached your quaint and quiet tattoo shop. As a leader, it makes Dabi want to tear his hair out. As a friend, he’s just pissed off. 

He’s thankful you’ve passed out just so he doesn’t have to deal with you bitching about how gruff he’s being. Though, it certainly dawned on him that you had probably fallen unconscious from the sheer agonizing pain of breaking multiple bones simultaneously. He sets you down, far from gently, in the residential living room upstairs of the Town Hall building. “Overhaul!” He bellows out, not even caring if the children heard his angry tone right now. 

“I told you to stop calling me that,” the doctor appears from around the corner, a clearly agitated look on his face, even beneath a simple black mask. The irony isn’t lost on Dabi despite his composure—he remembers once upon a time when Kai only went by the name of his quirk. Funny how years go by. “Her again?” Overhaul all but sneers, looking at your limp body that was covered only in a thin tee shirt and a pair of panties. Ignoring that little fact of seeing so much painted flesh, he notices the distinct smell of burnt wood and swelling under the skin where the breaks were. “What happened to her?”

“Someone set [ name ]’s tattoo shop and apartment on fire. She jumped out of a window to get out.” Dabi is absolutely seething, little sparks of blue flames leaving his nostrils as he lets out tufts of air. “Idiot had no idea how to break her fall and busted her shit. Can you help her?” 

“I suppose that would make us even.” The doctor snarks back thoughtlessly, but he can’t help but wonder why you didn’t use your little quirk to save yourself as you had with Eri. 

“Good. I’m gonna go find this fucker.” With that, Dabi storms out of the living room and out of the town hall building, leaving Kai with the woman that saved his daughter’s life. At least maybe now, Eri could say thank you like she had been asking to do. He could say thank you. 

Chisaki adjusts you on the couch so that you’re entirely flat on the cushions, mindful of the glass that’s embedded in your skin. If anything, he should probably remove those first. With gloved hands, he picks out all the shards he can see with his golden eyes while his mind wanders as he looks at the lines and colors of the tattoos that covered your body. From neck to toe, there was ink on nearly every inch—even the one dragon-snake hybrid on your face that wrapped around your temple and cheekbone. Despite your [ hair color ] locks matting your skin, Overhaul found all of your tattoos rather intriguing to look at; almost as if it weren’t flesh because the contact wasn’t causing him to break out in hives. Like your body told a story without you even needing to speak. 

After getting all the glass cleared up, Kai gently pushed on your arms and legs, checking for any signs of bones out of place from where they should be or cushioning and swelling to protect the damaged areas, outside of the very obvious ones that nearly looked like softballs. Two breaks in your femur, four in your ulna from what he could feel—nothing that Overhaul couldn’t fix. Though, he had to make sure that everything had set the way it was supposed to and that you were able to use your limbs after he did the repair. That meant he would actually have to speak to you, and he comes to the realization the two of you never actually had the chance to speak to each other before. Maybe he shouldn’t be as judgmental of the fact that you had a defect—maybe you were like him and abhorrent at the fact that you had a mutation to begin with. 

After using his own quirk, Overhaul checks for a pulse on your neck with two fingers, making sure you at least had a heartbeat before patiently waiting for you to regain consciousness. In the meantime, he continues picking out the fragments of glass that escaped his initial sweep—a task made slightly easier when the shards caught the light contrasted the dark lines embedded in your dermis. For a brief second, you stir against his touch before your eyes snap open. “Holy fuck, what happened?” You all but howl when you come to. You let out a deep gasp for breath, suddenly aware of the dull throbbing in your arm and leg as you attempt to make sense of your surroundings. 

“Can you tell me if this hurts?” The doctor to your left says evenly, emotionless even, as he holds your wrist between his thumb and middle finger, moving your arm in all sorts of ways. A sharp inhalation sucks in between your teeth as it twists in ways you weren’t sure it could before. A grimace touches his lips underneath is plain, black cloth mask—maybe he didn’t set the bones correctly? Overhaul lays your arm flat, ready to make his adjustments, but as his gloved fingers padded closer, you found yourself retreating further into the depths of the couch cushions. 

“I-I’m good,” your words come rushing out, desperate to dodge his touch. Why did you wake up with Overhaul over you? Did he take your quirk away? You’d have to investigate further when you were alone, test it out in private. Ignoring the dull hums of pain coming from your arms and legs, you manage to sit up, slumping over your knees before you realized where you were. “Town hall?”

“Yes. Do you remember anything?” You shake your head—you remember waking up to smelling the smoke in your apartment. You remember the fire creeping up the stairwell and the way orange painted your once tan walls. You remember jumping out the window, but everything else after is met with a blank slate. “You broke your arm and legs in a few places—I reset them with my quirk.”

“Oh,” is all you have to say. “Uh, thank you.”

“Speaking of thank you,” Overhaul palms his knees before pushing off of them from the wooden stool he’s sitting on, standing at his full height and smoothing out his black dress shirt and slightly creased slacks. “My daughter would like to thank you for rescuing her a few weeks back.” 

Dammit. 

It wasn’t like you could just say no to Eri’s father when it was only the two of you—that would just make you look like an asshole or worse; he could just kill you and say you died in the fire. It was even more difficult to decline considering the young, silver-haired girl was peeking her head from behind a partition, wide-eyed when her dad mentioned her. With your own eyes softening at the sudden contact, you offer an awkward smile that you pray comes off as welcoming. Overhaul beckons her to come closer, holding one hand open until the young girl is tucked underneath his hip. 

“U-Um, t-thank you for saving me,” a squeak spills past her dry lips before she runs out of the room as quickly as she came. You didn’t blame her. Even if Overhaul is her father, he gave off an intimidating air that surely would frighten any child. It made you wonder how such a man ran an orphanage. But to your surprise, Eri returned, though this time not alone. A flock of children was accompanying her, each of them with bright eyes and big smiles adorning their unique appearances. 

“Thank you for saving our sister!” They chime in unison. The sight made your heart swell and soften, even if only slightly. Eri steps forward cautiously, pushing through her own trepidation as she stands before you and throws herself at you, hugging you tightly with arms around your neck in gratitude. As if triggering a domino effect, a few of the other children felt the need to express the same sentiment. An uncomfortable laugh bubbles past your lips as you awkwardly wrap your arms around the gaggle of kids—you may not like them, but you weren’t that much of an asshole to deny them a hug. 

Kai’s typically hard, cold expression mellows at the sight. It’s heartwarming, he gave it that, but a part of him cannot stave off the tiny bubble of envy he feels seeing his children so ready to embrace you when they initially had such a hard time adjusting to life with him. He loved these kids—and it was quite clear you felt the opposite—so why hadn’t they gravitated towards him like they did you? Underneath his mask, he grimaced before internally shaking his head. They were his children, they loved Kai regardless and he knew that. “Alright kids, why don’t you go play and let [ name ] rest? It’s been a rough morning for her.” The use of your name shouldn’t have shocked you, or maybe it was fear that crawled up your spine at the doctor’s endearing tone. You weren’t aware that he knew who you were. The kids let out a collective groan before listening to their father and exiting the living room. As soon as each of their little, youthful heads is out of sight, you breathe out a sigh of relief. 

“S-sorry,” you mumble out, suddenly reminding yourself that it was probably rude of you to make a sound as such and you wanted to make sure you did nothing to insult Overhaul to his face. A huge part of you felt that one wrong word out of your mouth meant the end of your quirk or your life. 

“It’s alright, I know they can be a handful. Though, they seem to be quite taken with you.” His tone is still rather polite, you notice, and his voice is entirely different than what you’d thought it would be in a one on one interaction. You thought it would be deeper, as whispers and rumors of Chisaki Kai being an incredibly cruel, bitter man painted a different picture in your head. But the man standing before you looked every bit as broken as you felt on the inside—as if a part of him had an empty chasm residing in his chest that could not be filled by the nine children in his care. 

“I can’t imagine why,” you reply. 

“Neither can I,” he says without skipping a beat, his tone still airy and light. Before you can rebuttal with your quick wit, Dabi storms in with his eyes locked on to your now conscious body. Gesturing with his head, over exaggerating the folds of his damaged skin, he encourages you to follow him downstairs to the mayoral study. Silently, you sauntered off behind him, leaving Overhaul alone in the living room, while you could feel the internal flames burning within Dabi. Pissed didn’t even begin to describe the look on his face.

In the office, photographs of burnt down buildings, rubble, and the skeletal framework of Underground businesses were littered across the large, maple desk. All the while, the leader of the Underground was grumbling to himself repeatedly while tugging at his raven locks in frustration. Not only had someone burned down local businesses in the city, let alone a close friend’s business, but it seemed that someone was attacking his city from the inside. “I wasn’t able to save Tropium.” You offer no response, mostly because there isn’t one to have. You felt anguish over losing your home, sure, but knowing how hard Dabi worked to protect the Underground, you can’t quite imagine how he’s feeling.

Instead, you respond with, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I should be asking you that. Your home is gone, [ name ].” He had a valid point. Perhaps you could find a few local contractors and give them some work—it wasn’t like you didn’t have the money to spare. But that would probably take some time considering, from photo evidence, the place—all of them—was going to need to be built from the ashes. “Stay here while you figure it out. It’s the least I can do.”

“Don’t you already have Overhaul and the kids staying here?” Maybe Dabi didn’t notice the way your voice trembled as you spoke his name, even more so after having woken up to him by your side. But the thought of you, a quirk wielder that kept that little fact hidden from the public, temporarily boarding with a man who was vehemently against the abomination of quirks gave you severe anxiety. Additionally, there was the nine little children that also were a factor and the thought of one of them waking up in your temporary residence and intruding on what little privacy you would have—

“And?” Dabi asks, pulling you from your reverie. “[ name ], I know I don’t say this enough, but you’re one of my closest friends. I don’t feel right not giving you a place to sleep.” His quirk may be Cremation, but Dabi was a master manipulator when it came to pulling at your heartstrings whether or not he was aware of that. You let out a sigh of conceding, knowing you wouldn’t be able to argue your way out of this one. 

“One condition, bud,” you hold up a single index finger, the black quill feather tattooed there standing erect, “find me some contractors to help rebuild all the buildings that were burned dow.”

“That’s gonna cost ya,” Dabi hums, as if contemplating. And he was, but rather in estimated cost as opposed to the proposal itself. Physical currency was a rarity in the Underground, as the city ran on a merit and bartering system. Real Surface money was only used for certain occupations. Realistically speaking, he knew money was no object to you considering the wealth, or rather hush money, you acquired from your parents’ death, so there had to be another reason. Knowing you as well as he did, it was probably the fact that the faster your homes were rebuilt, the less time you would have to spend sharing walls with Overhaul. Very smart, the leader mused. “You got a deal, doll.”

 You lost count of the days that had gone by since you took over the project of rebuilding the structures that had gone down. While the orphanage project had already begun, you had hired two additional bodies to help the progress go faster so that Dabi could return to his duties without the addition of eleven more mouths to feed. Simultaneously, you had been at your own construction lot from metaphorical sunup to sundown, helping contribute and manage the two men that were hired for your location. 

You weren’t avoiding Overhaul, you told Dabi repeatedly when he asked where you’d been all day. 

This project was an opportunity for you to set up shop in a reimagined way—to be able to design both your studio space and your living space exactly to your tastes. It had sort of become your baby and you wanted to be as hands on as possible. 

You weren’t avoiding Overhaul, you kept telling yourself. 

Tropium’s new store front was stunning, albeit a bit ill-fitting with its new modern style in contrast to the Underground’s more rustic, steampunk look. But the charcoal grey stone walls with chunky white trim filled your heart with a sense of pride that your business would hopefully rise from the ashes much like that of the Phoenix tattooed under your bosom. 

Currently, you were upstairs with the tiny team of contractors while going over the floor plan of your currently bare apartment. Given the space of the empty building, you managed to enlarge your rooms at the cost of downsizing your entryway and living room. It still felt homey and, with the addition of a small office that served as a spare bedroom, you figured on nights that Dabi hung out and didn’t feel like going home, he had a space too. After laying out the floor plan and going over schematics with the team, you ventured back downstairs to continue sanding down the counters for your studio space. 

“So, this is where you’ve been spending your time?” Oxygen freezes in your throat as you’re met with Overhaul’s golden eyes and black mask. Albeit he wasn’t in his normal dress shirt and tie for once, but rather sporting an oversized hoodie and tight denim jeans. 

“W-what are you doing here?” Is all you can say back. You aren’t sure if you’re moving or even breathing at this point. The pressure you feel from a man whose face is half-covered is terrifying—liquid gold was dull in comparison to the intimidating eyes of Chisaki Kai. 

“Dabi told me about your little deal,” his voice rolls like honey straight from the dripper as he makes small flits toward you that subconsciously leave you retreating back up the stairs one step at time. A deep groan rumbles in his chest when he sees your reaction—not that he blames you in the slightest. Overhaul is more than aware of his notorious reputation both in the real world and in the Underground and is accepting of strangers’ reluctance to be around him. He knows he’s partially to blame for not trying to quell the stigma around him by formally introducing himself prior. maybe not being such a condescending jackass when he first officially met you would have helped as well. 

But he can’t squash the little bouts of jealousy that filled him seeing his children flock to you like dragonflies in search of water that almost make him bask in your trepidation. 

“Take a walk with me,” Overhaul adds, torn between offering you a gloved hand as a metaphorical olive branch or simply turning around to see if you follow. He opts for the latter merely for the fact that you’re covered in dust and paint from your days’ work. Bounding after him, you stuff your hands into the pockets of your loose overalls as you try to catch up while bearing in mind to keep a short distance between the two of you. The two-block walk is brief and silent as you end up at the construction site of the clinic. Perhaps your memory of the building you never visited beforehand was skewed, but it you were certain it was much larger now. “Feel free to look around. After all, you’re paying for this.” There’s a twinge of malice that paints his invitation that isn’t lost on you, but you decide to forego the welcoming regardless. 

Passing through the threshold cautiously, you’re greeted with what looks to be a regular, two story home. The skeletal structure foreshadowed a kitchen, dining room, living space, and a hallway leading to two rooms. One staircase that lead to a basement, one that lead upstairs—it was strange to see the clinic become more of a home than anything else. “Where are you putting the clinic?” You ask meekly, careful not to touch. Just because Overhaul invited you to check out the specs, doesn’t mean he wanted your lingering fingerprints ingrained in his space. 

“Basement. I figured it would be better for the children to have majority of the space.” A pregnant pause takes over the conversation once again, leaving you to roam around the new space in appreciation. A part of you was pleased with the work the contractors did for this family, a large part even, but there was a small nagging voice in your head that was still telling you to retreat back to your own project. “Why did you do it?” 

“Do what?” A brief chuckle that is muffled by his mask dances on his lips. He’s not sure which of his theories he wants to start unraveling first. So he starts with the one he believes to be most ludicrous—the conspiracy that you or somebody you worked for was trying to take this children away, or Eri at the very least. If people on the Surface knew about her and her quirk, Kai doesn’t doubt a bounty would be on her head. But truth be told, he knew this seemed unlikely. You had never bothered to even engage with him or anyone else in his family until recently, despite having come to the Underground shortly after its establishment. 

“Rescue my daughter, for starters.” Of course he starts with the question you don’t have an answer for. To which you can only respond with the truth—your body moved on your own when you saw the panic in his eyes. Also knowing he had to watch his eight other children and ensure their safety prompted your body to act automatically. “You used your quirk to save Eri, but not yourself. Why?” Your eyes narrow slightly in both suspicion and out of confusion. It was strange that Overhaul kept demanding answers and logic and reason for things you did as a knee jerk reaction. Considering you’d only discovered your quirk just before going to the Underground, it wasn’t exactly what you would call a natural reaction. Plus, weaving through danger for someone else wasn’t as simple as just running in and out of the building as it was to jump out your bay window. Judging by his silence, it seemed he accepted that answer.  “And the contractors?”

“I just want all of our lives to go back to normal, including Dabi.” It wasn’t exactly a lie—rather just a short omission of the truth—and it wasn’t like you could tell him that you couldn’t stand living in such close proximity with him due to fear. But Overhaul had a knack for pinpointing a fib like a honeybee in search of something sweet. 

“You’re lying,” he bites. You shake your head almost violently, as if the movement will deter your mouth from telling him the truth in its entirety. There was no way you could admit the fear he instilled in your bones or the anxiety you felt standing close enough for him to touch you. Sure, you may have felt that your quirk was less than impressive but that didn’t mean you wanted him to take it away or worse, your life. Knowing that he knew about it too, while the public didn’t which was a requirement for living in the Underground, only reaffirmed your worries. “Do you fear me?” Overhaul asks, making note of the way your fingers were trembling and way your eyes constantly averted his. 

“Yes,” your voice comes out as a mere whisper, barely rising above the hammering and drilling of the construction workers. A part of you wished that your admission made you feel better—like it felt like a weight lifting off of your shoulder rather than making it feel like you were denying some greater truth—a part of you just wanted to run and hide and pretend this interaction wasn’t happening. 

It shouldn’t have hurt Kai as much as it did to hear you say it out loud, considering you were nothing but a stranger. But you were a stranger that his children were so utterly enamored with and all he wanted was to understand. Yet, the feeling of disappointment is a dull thrum in his chest, long forgotten with a wide array of other emotions and coming only second to his envy. “I’m sorry,” he says finally, though the monotone voice almost sounds insincere. 

Perhaps, his jealousy is misplaced, he thinks. His children may be drawn to you, but at least they didn’t tremble or wrack their bones with trepidation the way you do when you see him. If anything, his jealousy is replaced with empathy. Despite your clear distaste for youth, you got along swimmingly with his kids and they clearly wanted to be present with you. It must have been difficult for you to be near them, even more so considering you trembled in their father’s presence. The two of you stand in silence with you looking away pretending to soak in your surroundings of the plastered walls. Overhaul is observing your nervous ticks—the way your twitching fingers are exaggerated by the ink in your skin or the way your knee bounces impatiently along the hardwood. 

“Daddy, daddy, daddy, come look at my roo—oh! [ name ] is here too!” Bounding down the unfinished staircase was one of the orphans in Overhaul’s care; Shura, if you remembered correctly. 

“Just stopped by to see how the place was coming,” you offer in addition to a sheepish wave. Before you know it, Shura is grasping one of your hands with both of his while guiding you up the stairs. 

“Come see our rooms, [ name ]!” Overhaul watches with curious eyes at the way one of his sons is so overzealous to include you in their little world. The appeal makes no sense to him—you were just a stranger with skin like a Monet painting that had made little to no effort for these children outside of rescuing Eri and allowing them to shower you in their affection. 

Why did acknowledging that their enthusiasm to include you hurt Kai even more so, knowing you were afraid of him?

Trudging behind, Overhaul peers through the open doors upstairs to see each of his kids decorating their freshly painted walls. In Shura’s room, you were sitting on the floor with your arms wrapped around your knees while the little boy explained to you that he wanted his room to be decorated with narwhals. The excitement he had, and the knowledge of even knowing such a creature existed, was quite charming. “[ name ], are you gonna join us for dinner this time? Dabi says you’re always working, but daddy always makes you a plate just in case!” Your eyes glance over to Overhaul and his leisurely pose as he rests one arm on the door jamb. For a moment, your mouth open and closes repeatedly as you try to stutter out some semblance of an answer. 

“Just in case,” the doctor adds, as if to add more pressure to his son’s convenient question. The golden orbs you normally deterred from swirled with an intensity that, much to your surprise, didn’t wrack your nerves like they normally did. It was as if they were filled with remorse rather their typical bitterness, maybe sympathy even, imploring you to consider Shura’s inquiry. 

“I should go finish my work for today then so I can be home for dinner,” pushing yourself off of the freshly carpeted floor to stand. At some point while Shura was giving you the grand tour of his room, your legs had fallen asleep, causing your first step to hobble and throw you off balance and trip. 

“Careful,” Overhaul chimes, bemused at the way you flail to recover from your stumble. To your surprise, he’s pushed himself off the door jamb, crossed through the threshold of Shura’s room, and has his arms locked underneath yours to keep you steady. “Drink some water before going back to work.”  

“R-right,” you stutter out, hyper aware that his hands are touching you. He feels the way your tendons bunch together in your arms at the contact, even more so when your pupils lock into his. It untangles one more thread in his theories, one he figures he’ll push on later because it’s a theory just as farfetched as his last one. “I’ll, um, see you at dinner,” the last syllable rises in intonation as you squeak, flitting away and ignoring your numbed legs and blood burned cheeks. Meanwhile, Overhaul chuckles as he watches you scurry away, the blush painting your cheeks burning into his mind just as well. The way you moved was reminiscent of when he had reset your bones and the way you recoiled thereafter. But through thorough observation, he knew that reaction wasn’t fear this time around, no. Fear made you quiet, not nervous or jittery or force your pupils to dilate. 

This was something else entirely.

Something else entirely to the point where Chisaki Kai is unsure if he even wants to entertain the possible theory that maybe, maybe, you’re the slightest bit infatuated with him. 

“How nice of you to join us,” Dabi sneers teasingly when you set foot into the private entryway of town hall’s attached home. The makeshift family of ten is already seated at the extended dining table, an empty seat awaiting you on Dabi’s left with Overhaul on his right. Each of the children that you had come to be familiar with over the last few weeks had lit up like your presence was a treat—a strange feeling, considering you’d done the most to avoid being in the temporary residence. 

“Go wash up, we’ll wait for you,” you had never seen Chisaki Kai without his mask, let alone heard his voice so clear. The angelic lilt rivaled expert fingers rimming crystal glasses, hypnotizing you to do as he said without so much as a fight. Entering your room, you immediately discard your dirty work clothes and shower hastily, scrubbing off flecks of dried paint and dust. In seven minutes and nineteen seconds, you’re out of your en suite bathroom and shucking on leggings and a long sleeve tee before joining everyone else at the dinner table. 

To your surprise it felt quite...normal. Was this how families had dinner together? You were unsure, considering your parents had never been one to have the three of you gather together for a meal—they were always too busy working until the day they were killed nearly a decade ago. 

It surprised you how natural the flow of conversation was, even with nine children ranging from ages four to seven. Even more to your shock, Dabi was more than willing to indulge the kids in their stories. But the creme de la creme was seeing maskless Overhaul smiling and laughing and attempting to get his kids to eat their vegetables. Was this the real Overhaul? Had his notoriety preceded him so greatly that you feared him for no reason at all? Your intuition tells you no and, perhaps, to some degree it’s right. There was still a dangerous air that encapsulated Chisaki Kai, but it wasn’t one that made you instantly retreat like touching a cake pan you’d recently pulled from the oven with a bare hand. If anything, it was alluring as opposed to intimidating. 

The kids were so happy you finally joined them all at dinner. Rapid fire questions from any one or even two of them made you hesitate to answer but you did your best to keep your face even and amused. Children may not have been your favorite, but however the heck Overhaul was raising these ones, especially all nine of them, was truly wonderful. Throughout conversation, Shura and even shy little Eri had scrambled into your lap with each one of them taking a leg while the three of you ate. Initially, Kai had scolded them both, saying they were being rude to which you only shook your head and allowed them to stay, much to his surprise. 

After dinner, the children cleared the table. Those that were able of the younger ones brought stacks of dishes to Eri and Shura whom were in the kitchen washing plates and silverware—their duties as the eldest of the nine. Dabi has pardoned himself after thanking the family for the meal to hole himself up in his office. According to the leader of the Underground, the investigative team was still working around the clock to unearth who was responsible for the fires. You had found yourself in the garden of Town Hall, tablet and digital pen in one hand with a cigarette in the other. Drawing was the only leisurely activity you indulged in when not working on rebuilding Tropium. 

Typically, Dabi would join on you on these evenings with stacks of papers and a cigar between his lips as he bounced ideas off of you to figure out potential perpetrators. Needless to say, it surprised you when Overhaul enters the makeshift garden that was really just a manmade pond with lily pads and rose bushes aligning the sinkhole. “Hi,” you offer meekly, averting his gaze by keeping your own glued to your tablet screen. 

“Hi,” he returns, twisting up a shapely brow at the cigarette between your index and middle finger. For a moment, he’s torn between asking what you’re working on or if you had any ideas to who burned down both of your homes or even how the rebuilding of Tropium was coming along. But he can tell by the way the filter of the cigarette squeezes between your fingers that you’re tense, that you can sense there’s a reason for his presence and decides to forego small talk. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me,” his voice is small and unsure and drastically different from the Overhaul you were used to. Nonetheless, his statement catches your attention and pulls it away from the screen of your tablet. 

“I’m more afraid of what you can do,” you admit quietly, “I don’t want people knowing about my quirk. Dabi was the only one who knew and now your entire family knows and—“ you pause for second, hesitating on whether or not you should continue. But Overhaul was brave enough to tell you had what been bothering him, even if only a minuscule issue, you figure you owe him the same. “And I don’t want you to take it away.” The broken syllables leave your lips bare above a whisper, reaffirming at least one of the theories the doctor had about you. Of all the conspiracies, it made sense that this one was the most likely to explain your reactions to his presence, no matter how much he had hoped it to be some strange, magnetic attraction. 

You had bought into the whispers of the Underground that said Chisaki Kai’s life mission was to overhaul the population and remove quirks. 

Dejection fills his chest as he lets out a sigh. Maybe this was being too honest, his inner voice argues as it debates on his next words cautiously, but he feels the need to burn clean. “[ name ], what do you know about me?” 

“That you were a Yakuza leader and you think quirks are a plague that need to be eradicated.” Overhaul closes his eyes languidly, peeling them back open at a snail’s pace while the warm, golden orbs stare off into the never-ending tunnels of the Underground. 

“I became the leader of the Shie Hassaikai when I married my wife at twenty-three and took over for her ill father. It was a quirk marriage, but a happy one, nonetheless. At twenty five, my wife had Eri and while most children’s genetic code didn’t activate the gene for a quirk until a few years later, Eri was born with her quirk activated,” you listen deeply, soaking in every word leaving Overhaul’s maskless lips. His eyes drop down to stare at his gloved hands before burying his face in them for a moment to swallow his guilt quietly. “Eri can rewind time on living things and the first person she used it on—“

“—was her mother,” your voice barely vibrated past your lips as you made the connection. Bile rose in your throat, threatening to spill the contents of your gut not out of disgust, but rather an overwhelming surge of sorrow. 

“I lost my wife when I was twenty-five. The rate that she was being rewound at was too much for her body to handle and I had to overhaul my own daughter at birth just to get her quirk to deactivate so she didn’t destroy everyone she touched,” had Chisaki Kai not come to terms with the truth a long time ago, he would have shed at least a single tear recounting these memories he had buried. Either that, or almost hurled recalling the way his wife’s body had imploded until chunks of skin and muscle tissue and blood ended up spewing all over his chest and face. There was a reason he constantly wore gloves and a mask—the smell of cooking carcass and burning meat never left him and the exaggerated mask stuffed with lavender was the only scent that eased him. “I was angry at the world for a long time.”

“I am so sorry, Over—“

“Kai,” he interrupts, “or Chisaki, at the very least. I don’t go by that name anymore.” After a bout of silence, Chisaki continues further. Eri never grew up with a mother or siblings and after things had gone south on the surface, he wanted to raise Eri in a place where people didn’t know the truth about her or the mother she never had the opportunity to meet. So he fled to the Underground with Dabi; he started helping tend to the ill and taking in quirkless children who had lost their parents on the Surface to Heroes. 

In a moment of vulnerability, you felt the need to offer the olive branch and share your own story with this man after he bared his soul to you. And so, you tell him about the accident. How, while in pursuit of a villain, the small mom and pop diner that your parents frequented on Friday afternoons was accidentally set on fire by Endeavor and trapped and killed of the patrons inside. You were in your first year of high school at the time—fourteen and preparing for university until you realized you would need to work full time in order to continue paying the bills until the settlement from Endeavor came. University was down the drain. It took years for the dividends to be decided and the lawyer managed to get you a considerably high amount thanks to emotional damages, but riches and wealth would never quell the resentment you held towards the then number two pro Hero for being so reckless. That was nine years ago. Somewhere along the way, you’d met Dabi and he granted you a home and space to continue to hone the craft of tattoo artistry that you had picked up from working part time in a parlor, as recompense for his father killing yours. Though, you’d left that last little tidbit out, unsure if Kai knew of Dabi’s lineage. “I’ve been in the Underground for the last three years, give or take.”

You had always been rather indifferent to the concept of heroism until that day. Even more so when you had met Dabi—a man who was wanted and was supposed to be a villain. Yet he extended warmth and welcoming to you, offering you refuge in a new city he had created for the exiled and wandering. 

The grey areas only widen with this conversation with Chisaki Kai. A notorious man, an infamous man, known for causing utter chaos on the Surface both as the leader of the Shie Hassaikai and as a super villain, was sitting across from you and sharing the most intimate moments of his life. 

Maybe the concept of heroism was skewed to begin with, you think to yourself as you put out the cigarette in the ashtray in front of you. Maybe Dabi and Overhaul weren’t the real villains—only designed that way because of the way some omniscient creature in the stars that you couldn’t see. 

“I remember when you first opened Tropium,” Chisaki hums bemusedly, “the children said you looked like a coloring book.” The only fitting response you have is laughter. Neither of you thought laughter would be something the two of you would indulge in together. But the way your cheeks cinch together at the corner of your eyes or the tufts of air leaving your nostrils in a short snort and the somehow smooth staccato of your chuckle sounds like holiday bells after the first snowfall. It was a peace that Chisaki Kai hadn’t known for some time now. It was a peace he didn’t know he needed, and it makes him wish that his magnetic attraction theory had some truth to it. “Your secret is safe with me,” he says finally after the laughter had died off. 

“Thank you, Chisaki,” 

 You started coming home for dinner every night, figuring the two contractors didn’t need you there to micromanage them, until you stopped dropping into the worksite all together. With a full house, Dabi was out more frequently, preferring to be in the field to investigate the fires as much as he could. This left you with Chisaki and the kids more often than not. On occasion, you would run to the local market with Eri and Shura or had even done arts and crafts with some of the younger ones. As a sort of inside joke, you had bought each of the nine coloring books. 

Currently, the kids were playing volleyball in the makeshift garden while you and Chisaki supervised. It was no longer tense between the two of you, a sort of bond forming since that one night. You should have seen the inevitable question coming. Though you more so imagined it would come from Dabi in the form of some snide comment with sexual implications regarding how close you and Overhaul had become. Never did you anticipate his oldest son asking, “[ name ], are you going to be adopting us? Are you going to be our new mom?” 

“I-I—“ you were a deer in headlights and the question was a freight truck gunning in at ninety. Looking over at Chisaki for help, who seemed almost unwilling or at the very least unsure on how to, you shake your head before staring back at Shura’s big blue eyes. These children had begun carving a special place in your heart due to how they came to be in Chisaki’s care, sure, but you still had your reservations about kids in general. Not that the doctor blamed you—maternal instincts didn’t necessarily apply to every female. “I-I don’t wanna take you away from daddy, he works so hard to take care of you all and he does such a good job,” for a second, Shura’s expression becomes crestfallen. 

“But we all like having you around, [ name ],”

“I’m not going anywhere, buddy, I promise,” the seven-year-old boy promptly wraps his arms around your neck, squeezing tightly as if you were going to dissipate into the air in front of his very eyes. Without hesitation, you hug back briefly before telling him his siblings were waiting for him to start the next set of volleyball. “Was that okay?” You ask quietly, looking over to the doctor. From underneath his mask, you can see the twists of pain coloring the dusty gold hues of his irises and the way his jaw tenses. When he remains quiet, you anxiously reach for an e-cigarette—a fruity one that wouldn’t alert the kids or burn Chisaki’s nostrils from the scent—and pull the tip to your lips. Maybe you shouldn’t have said that to Shura, you think as you exhale a large cloud of smoke. 

But Overhaul’s stomach is twisting and churning, and he crosses his legs over the knee to squeeze his legs together tightly. He’s thankful for the black cloth mask that covers majority of his facial features as he bites his lip and his nostrils flair while he tries to control his breathing. Think of anything else, his mind snarls. Think of the days in the Shie Hassaikai, think of the children, think of literally anything but the way you called him “daddy” and how the blood rushed from his brain and straight to his dick at an alarming rate. It was so innocent—there was no reason Kai should even be thinking of it in any other way—but primal instincts were taking over, twisting into a delusion in his brain into hearing you repeatedly call him daddy while he fucked you from behind. 

“Can you watch the kids?” Chisaki chokes out, standing up abruptly and fleeing inside the temporary home. He doesn’t even have the chance to hear you ask if he’s alright as he’s rushing upstairs to his en suite bathroom. Entering his room, he rips off every shred of fabric covering his body before turning on the shower to the coldest temperature he could tolerate. But there wasn’t enough cold water in the Underground or gruesome thoughts of his wife’s sudden death that could stave off the erection he was currently sporting. “Fuck!” He snarls out viciously, mind running rampant with salacious daydreams. Out of sheer need, Overhaul wraps one hand around his cock, the other bracing himself on the shower wall while the cold water runs down his spine. 

Chisaki Kai is livid—raging over the fact that he is reduced to such actions over a simple word that he hears multiple times on a daily basis. It wasn’t that he was abhorrent at the thought of masturbation in the slightest—he was a human with natural human needs, after all—but this desperation that filled his gut and fueled his hard on was less than desirable. But he can’t stop the aching he feels to hold onto that blip of memory of you calling him daddy. He savors it like the first bite of a meal and indulges it in the same way he’s trying to coerce his own orgasm. 

Throaty groans and grumbles wrack in Overhaul’s throat as he fists his angry, weeping cock, twisting and turning it as he prays for reprieve. It’s not enough; it’s not your mouth or any other oriface he would rather be shoving into, but the friction rubbing against his veins would have to be enough. He’s far from gracious at this point. Cupping and massaging his balls with one hand while thrusting into his enclosed other at ferocious speeds was all in the name of merely getting off. “Fuck,” he hisses out once again as he feels the very start of his orgasm. As much as his natural instinct is just telling him to sit back and enjoy the ride, his common sense tells him otherwise, tells him that he’s filthy for doing this and he doesn’t deserve to indulge in these thoughts. 

But he needs that extra push to satiate his natural instinct. 

Succumbing to his deeper, carnal desires, his imagination wanders back to you. With golden eyes screwed shut, he pretends it’s you he thrusting into, that it’s you stringing together languid profanities between your lips; that it’s you begging for daddy to fuck you harder. 

That it’s you begging daddy to fill you up and make you into a mother. 

“Oh, shit,” Chisaki is gasping for breath as he cums on the shower walls—the last thought to flood his mind serving to break the dam. He licks his lips and swallows hard, his skin becoming dry despite standing in the cold shower. After his ragged, uneven breathing returns to some semblance of normal, he peels his heavy lids open and stares at the fluid coating the shower wall. For a moment, shame washes over him because he feels pathetic and small. But the moment is brief before it was replaced with a dull burn of hunger that may never be quelled. 

Pathetic, Kai thinks again as he scrubs his body clean, before exiting the arctic shower. Never before had he been in such a state, even at the ripe age of thirty-two, to masturbate to the mere thought of another person. Perhaps he was that touch-starved, all things considered. 

He can’t bring himself to gaze at his reflection as he gets dressed. Adorning grey joggers and a red zip up hoodie, in addition to his usual mask and gloves, he maneuvers his way back to the makeshift garden where the children are still playing with together. But rather than you sitting alone at the patio table as you were, Dabi had joined you in the seat directly across from you. 

Both of you were sporting matching cigarettes in your respective hands with matching distressed looks on your faces. 

“We’ve been waiting for you,” you say in an almost indifferent tone, a departure from the way Kai had heard you in his mind seconds ago. It was a sentence typically accompanied with some sass, but your eyes were devoid of emotion at the moment. Cautiously, Chisaki took a seat beside you at the patio table, propping an elbow on the armrest closest to you before resting his temple on the same closed fist he had just used to beat himself off. You pay it no mind, how close he is to you, but rather put out your cigarette on the ashtray on the table as a courtesy to him. “Dabi,” your tone is thoughtful as you say your best friend’s name, making a hand gesture that signifies him to speak. 

The leader of the Underground opens the manilla folder that was harboring the photos of both of your burnt down homes as well as the two other destroyed businesses. “It’s been a challenging investigation, but after eyewitness accounts and working with local law enforcement from the Surface, I’m pretty sure my bastard brother was behind this shit,” Dabi grits out. 

“Brother?” Kai asks, confirming your suspicions of him being unaware of Dabi’s genealogy and family tree. To this, the leader pulls out a mug shot of Todoroki Shouto. The face wasn’t entirely familiar to Kai, save for the small resemblances to Dabi. Same jaw shape, same blue eye with the same dead look. 

“Why us?” You ask, flipping the photo over. While it had been awhile since you had resided let alone visited the Surface, you knew that there was some rumors in the air about the start of a war, but what possible reason did Todoroki have for going after the Underground when everyone kept to themselves? For Chisaki, who ran a free clinic, and his children? What about you—why go after you?

Outside of Dabi, hadn’t the Todoroki family tortured you enough?

The city leader takes a deep breath, exhaling smoke as he extinguishes the dead cigarette on the ashtray. According to the patchwork man, Todoroki had confessed that he was selected for a covert mission from the Hero Association. The primary goal was to eradicate any and all quirk wielders within the Underground so they didn’t procreate further, so no overpowered quirks would mutate in the next generation of Underground born children. Overhaul lets out a scoff at the explanation—leave it to the Heroes to act so recklessly and selfishly. 

If quirk mutation was the concern, only him and Eri would have been targeted, maybe Dabi as well. Probably Dabi as well. But they burned down Tropium Tattoos, the home of you whom had the legally registered quirk Life Canvas up on the Surface. They burned down a farm whose owner had a quirk that could manipulate light and sunshine—whose farm fed the patrons of the Underground. They burned down the house of the guy who had a weird magnet quirk. It sounds more useless than he actually is—Dabi ended up capitalizing on his manipulation of magnets to create magnetic elevators up to the surface for supply runs and other necessities. 

This was about population control. 

It was a form of genocide that Overhaul himself was all too familiar with. 

“Well that’s fucked,” you sneer, reaching for one more cigarette, “the fuck is wrong with your family, dude, and why are they all trying to kill me and my family?” Chisaki turns his head in curiosity, no longer resting on his knuckles. The only time you had brought up your family, around him at least, was when Endeavor killed your parents—

Oh. 

He pretends he doesn’t feel disappointment when he realizes you weren’t implying he and the children were your family. 

“Why the hell do you think I left, [ name ]?” Chisaki almost feels as if he shouldn’t be present for this conversation; like it was meant to be private between the two of you. But he can’t bring himself to leave your side, not with the way anger is crinkling in the form of crow’s feet at the corner of your eyes. Dabi excuses himself after a long bout of silence, leaving you to stew in your bitterness while Overhaul directs the kids to wash up for dinner. You don’t realize all nine of them had left the garden until the doctor is standing over you, despite the small wisps of smoke billowing from your cigarette with a hand extended towards you to pull you from the patio chair. You’re sure to extinguish the stick, knowing how the smell often offended him before taking it. 

“Why don’t you go rest inside for a minute and wash up while I make dinner?” He offers quietly as he pulls you to your feet. The entire time, Chisaki maintains eye contact, his golden orbs unwilling to break their trance with your form. But thanks to the distress and the rapid pace that your brain is moving, you aren’t even aware of your surroundings or the way Chisaki is just standing in front of you until you’re running into his broad chest. Instinctually, you recoil away from him. Not out of disgust or fear like before, but rather respect, knowing how he is about touch and physical contact. 

“Sorry—“ his arms are nestling at your waist to keep you in close proximity and you’re suddenly reminded of the time your legs fell asleep at the orphanage and you had stumbled trying to walk. Chisaki had been there then too, holding you steady much like he was now. There was something drastically different to the scenario now compared to back then. The doctor didn’t shy away from the contact anymore, didn’t draw his hands back like he touched a freshly stoked lump of coal or break out into itchy hives. If anything, his gloved hands lingered just a little bit longer—too long even for Chisaki—before gingerly patting your head and retreating inside the home. 

And maybe if you weren’t trying to process the fact that the Surface was attempting to start a war with the Underground, you would have dwelled more on the warmth and security coming from Kai. The poise he held coupled with the fire and desire in his eye would have been enough to reassure that everything was going to be alright.

Dabi never came back that night. Rather than leaving his head seat at the dining table empty, Chisaki sat to your left with his daughter filling his space temporarily. You sat directly across from Eri, the girl who was once too timid to thank you now smiled brightly every time you looked at her. Other than your best friend’s absence, dinner was relatively average. Conversation went on as normal, sharing laughter and smiles between all of you—it was a nice delusion that for a moment, you were all a complete family and you weren’t so enrapt with the heartbreak of knowing these ten humans were targets to the surface. 

The children cleared the table as they always did, but rather than having the two oldest do the dishes, you offered to clean up instead. “Why don’t you kids gather up in the living room and have daddy put on a movie for you?” Clearly excited from the reprieve of duty, the orphans all head off, touting something along the lines of Frozen versus Tangled. But your back is already turned away from the family, getting started on putting away leftovers and scraping away scraps on plates and entirely missing the way Kai’s eyes drain from gold to a murky mustard. It misses the way his jaw clenches tightly as he settles the debate for his children, turning on Tangled—the clearly more superior film—before he returns to the kitchen. 

The sleeves of your ragline tee are pushed above your elbows as you hum an unknown hymn, unaware of Kai stepping cautiously toward you. Despite having just eaten, the doctor is filled with a renewed hunger entirely as his grip finds limp purchase on your hips much like they had before dinner. “You know, I think we need to have a talk about you calling me ‘daddy’ in front of the children,” he murmurs hotly against the shell of your ear, causing the hair on the back of your neck to stand up. Your blood is torn between running cold from the predatory drawl in his words and boiling from the sudden close contact. 

“I-I’m sorry, should I stop?” Kai licks his lips before running his teeth behind your ear and down your neck, suckling on the flesh as he mumbles a response. 

“Do you want to?” You contemplate his question in full, though it proves to be a challenge with the way he’s pressing warm, open mouth kisses to your neck and shoulder and the way his hands are kneading at your hips. “Are you afraid of me, sweetheart?” He asks again, his voice a low grumble yet somehow is louder than thunder as it isn’t hidden behind a mask. Had this been months ago when he had asked you an identical question when you were perusing the reconstruction of the orphanage, you would have said yes again. But this wasn’t fear—fear wasn’t a word you associated with Chisaki Kai anymore. 

Warmth. Strength. Dedication. Resolve. 

Love. 

Those were the words you associated with him now. 

“No,” you finally respond, shutting off the water before turning to face him. It was a rare, momentous occasion when you got to gaze upon his bare face outside of having meals together. His golden eyes swirl with elation, even more so as your painted fingers brush stray locks that fallen just over his brows. Despite a rather simple appearance, especially in comparison to yours, there’s something elegantly charming about Chisaki Kai that had never gotten the full appreciation he deserved. 

Tentatively, you nudge him closer to you from the back of his neck until your lips are pressed against his. For you, it’s an experiment just to feel him in such a manner. For Kai, it’s torture in every sense of the word because it’s a tease after all of the salacious thoughts that have marred his imagination. Taking a leap of faith, his arms tighten around your waist, pulling your body flush against his because right now there isn’t enough contact in the world that would satisfy him. 

The once delicate, experimental kiss becomes hungrier at his hand as he’s exploring your mouth with tongue, groaning as he does so. The scent of smoke and fresh cotton wafts into his nostrils between his sharp intakes of breath as he refuses to break contact. It’s as if he’s trying to commit the moment to memory, to burn it into his brain. 

As if this was never going to happen ever again. 

“Kai,” you whimper out his name, his true name, between pants of breathlessness for the first time. Just as gingerly as before, your fingers are cradling the man before you by the temples. You’re gazing at him fully, unabashedly, as you run a thumb just below his distinct lower lashes. Chisaki’s head dips a bit further into your brief touch before you skip away from him. 

“Wait, where do you think you’re going?”

“Come on, let’s go watch the movie with the kids,” you chime, holding a hand out to him as if he didn’t just have you all but pinned to the kitchen sink. 

“I was serious when I said we needed to have a talk.” Despite his verbal protest, he takes your hand in his, trailing behind as you saunter off towards the living room where the children are fully invested in the film. Plopping down on an empty space on the couch, you bring Kai with you until he’s nearly resting on top of you. For a moment, he releases your hand, opting to wrap an arm around you to pull you closer. “Back to avoiding me, angel?” The doctor grumbles into your ear, low enough so as not to alert the little ones. 

“Figured it would be better to not risk being interrupted,” you whisper back, smirk twisting your lips. Chisaki’s licks his own dry plains, tugging you even closer so that you’re sitting on one of his thighs instead. That predatory miasma that surrounds him on a day to day basis is seeping out of him tenfold, but intimidation when it came to Kai was now a foreign concept to you. It brought back that same seductively dangerous feeling you’d felt the first time you had dinner with the family or, thinking back further, to when you went to scope out the renovations. A part of you wonders if that fear you once had was displaced as soon as you knew he was going to keep your quirk a secret. Displaced with an attraction to him that was easily confused with fear. 

A part of you wonders if you ever really did fear him at all. 

Maybe you didn’t. 

Your mindless thoughts wander to anything other than the screen, casually leaning back so that your head settled on Kai’s clavicle. The doctor looks down at you with a curiosity that is replaced with a warmth that temporarily quelled his lust. As much as he had been fighting his day dreams of fucking you, having you in his arms surrounded by his kids stoked a different fire inside him. 

He didn’t want this domestic moment to end. 

He hopes that desire translates into the simple gesture of his lips pressing into your hair. 

Chisaki Kai was finally caving into his wants and being honest with himself. He doesn’t want this makeshift family to go back to normal when you finally returned to Tropium or when his family returns to the Underground clinic. There isn’t a single cell in his body that believes having you in his lap and curled into his chest feels anything other than right. He’s overwhelmed with the idea, the fantasy, of you moving in and being with the family. Your family—in the collective sense—with Kai by your side with your nine orphans. 

During the lantern scene of the film, he presses another kiss where the roots of your hair meet your forehead, lips lingering a little longer than normal. In response, you look up at him curiously to find his muted golden eyes staring right at you. There was a plethora of different things that Chisaki wanted to say to you, especially with the way you look so heavenly in his arms. But he settles with the murmur of, “I don’t want things to go back to normal.” 

“Neither do I,” you whisper, gracefully accepting the way Kai’s lips mould over yours almost lovingly. In a sense, it’s your way of finally admitting to yourself the feelings that worked and wriggled their way into your chest. The thought of returning to your lonely little two-bedroom apartment by yourself just seemed daunting now, despite the initial rush to get to work on the remodel. No more waking up to bright eyes at the table for breakfast or coloring with the kids; no more having Kai cook a delectable meal or having him accompany you in the garden for a smoke. It broke your heart just thinking about all you would be missing out on when life returned to somewhat normal, war aside. 

The doctor sucks gingerly on your lower lip, nipping slightly with his canines as his tongue wholeheartedly dances with yours. The kiss is full of longing and desire and it made his brain go fuzzy with strange thoughts. A part of him can’t remember ever feeling this recurring surge of wanton lust and infatuation when Kai would kiss his wife and, in regular circumstances, he would have felt guilt over it. But this warm, wet entanglement of your tongues is more loving than he was accustomed to and it excited him. Than you were even accustomed to. 

“So stay with me, sweetheart,” the nickname he’s given you sounds almost patronizing. But the admiration that seems to be laced in with it sends a shiver down your spine and leaves the hairs on your arms standing at full attention as the film comes to an end. “Time for bed, children. We’ll be by in a little bit to check on you,” Chisaki calls out to his protesting kids, though making no motion to move from his planted position on the sofa. When he’s certain that all nine of them are out of earshot, he adjusts you in his lap so that both of your legs are draped over his thighs. You call out his name, pulling him from his thoughts that take him far away from the present. 

“You said you wanted to talk,” you remind him. A part of you is afraid to start conversation because you aren’t sure what direction he wants to take this. Chisaki could have an entirely different meaning of returning to normal than you, but for you...

You didn’t want to wake up every morning without him being nearby. In the rawest form, that was the only way you could piece it together into a coherent thought. But even more than that, you felt as if there was so much more you wanted to see from Chisaki Kai. He was becoming more open with touch, no longer breaking out into hives when he touched others and even going so far as to hold you, albeit very languidly as he was now. Another part of you wanted to know if he would be beside you when it came to the impending war with the Surface. 

Mostly, you just wanted to know if he wanted to be by your side too, even if logic wanted to tell you this was a bad idea. 

“Will you stay? With me?” Kai implores quietly. His eyes are locked with yours, the gold shining brighter than ever. 

“You say this after I renovate our homes?” A short, lighthearted scoff leaves his lung in lieu of laughter at your attempt of a joke. Because, despite him echoing your own deeper, innermost thoughts, a part of you refused to believe this was reality. As if reality was actually playing a prank on you. 

Of course he had thought of that little fact. It was the longing desire he felt in his bones to have your presence that he hadn’t taken into account, but that need burning at the pit of his stomach had outweighed any semblance of logic that urged him to keep his thoughts to himself.

“The kids will grow up eventually and need their own space away from the orphanage. We could always save it for them.”

Answers you were expecting from Chisaki Kai: not that. 

Had he invested that much into the idea? To the point where he planned on you still being a part of the orphan’s lives until they were adults?

“‘We’?” You ask. “And what if “we” don’t work, have you considered that?”

“No,” Kai’s voice is clear and calm as ever, exuding the very confidence that once made you tremble, “I want you in every sense of the word. I’ve already said my vows and had my shot at forever. I want that sort of permanence with you and I know that some part of you wants me too.” At a loss for words, you opt to brush the backs of your nails along his cheeks endearingly, trailing them down until your hands find purchase around his neck to bring him close enough that you can feel his lashes tickle your cheekbones. The silence between the two of you was deafening and damning, yet welcoming as it’s broken with him pressing his lips fully against yours. 

For a moment, it feels as if the hunger stirring within his gut is satiated—satisfied with the even the tender, loving gesture of pulling you closer still until you’re straddling his lap. As if you were trying to fuse your bodies together because there was no such thing as too much physical contact right now. Kai encircles your waist with his arms, hoisting you up as he motions to stand and causing you to wrap your legs around his midsection. You don’t ask where you’re going; partially because your tongue is too busy just indulging in a private dance with his, partially because it doesn’t matter where he takes you. You’d go with him anywhere, no questions asked. 

It’s a challenge and a half maneuvering up the stairs with you anchored around him so tightly—even more so that with every step he took ended up grinding your pelvis along his ever-growing erection. Kai felt liberated this time around, shamelessly rubbing against you this time rather than scurrying off for a cold shower and a five-minute session with his hand. Your eyes open as he unceremoniously tosses you onto the plush blanket of your borrowed bed. Immediately, you’re greeted with the sight of Chisaki Kai hastily shredding off his tee shirt and lounge pants, leaving the doctor in strained boxer briefs. 

Briefly, you’re blown away by the sheer beauty of him—like a statue of Adonis come to fruition before your eyes. Even with the uncomfortable twinge in his golden orbs from your unnerving gaze. It was different, to say the least, to have you gawking at him with such adoration when he felt he was the only one doing so. “C’mere,” your voice comes out as a near broken whimper, a call to which Kai heeds graciously. The bed dips as he kneels at the edge, crawling closer until he’s hovering above you. Gingerly, your fingers trace over the smooth skin of his cheeks, tracing down his lips and neck until they ghost over his collarbones. 

“Sweetheart,” Kai groans out, snatching your hand in his as it continues to trail further down his bare skin. “As much as I want to bask in the romance of all of this, you called me ‘daddy’ earlier, and I think it’s time you suffer the consequences.”

“Yeah?” You sneer sardonically, pushing into your elbows until you’re both touching nose to nose. “Like it when I call you that?” His breath is hot as it fans over your features, the wanton lust tangled within the golden hues of his irises becoming overwhelmed with feral desire. Kai’s hand that isn’t supporting him over you grips tightly at your baggy tee, pulling harshly to tear at the fabric keeping your bare body from him. For a moment, his breath becomes caged in his chest upon seeing your semi-nude form for the first time. But the moment is flitting as he’s reminded of his aching, hard cock twitching underneath his undergarments. 

“Hands and knees, baby,” the slow, torturous movement you give in reply grates at Kai’s nerves, prompting a resounding smack to the ass of your joggers the moment your bottom is visible to him. “Daddy’s already impatient, dear,”

“And what’s Daddy going to do about that?” 

Similar to the treatment he gave your shirt earlier, Kai dug his fingers into the waistband of your joggers. Though he did not have nearly as much luck tearing off the thicker material, the gruff motion is enough to expose you, leaving your bare, pulsing core in plain sight while the cloth gathered at your knees. His chest presses against your back, his skin searing hotter than hellfire, as he places languid kisses along your shoulder. “I promise, I’ll spoil you with attention later. But right now, I need you,” his voice is something reminiscent of begging, only amplified by his suddenly bare cock dancing along your slit and smearing pre-cum along it before cautiously slipping the head in. 

Throaty groans leave both of your lungs simultaneously. Kai swears up and down that this was heaven manifested into reality. Part of him thinks this is all a dream, the way your walls are squeezing him to tightly as he pushes in centimeter by centimeter. “K-Kai,” you whimper. The calling of his name awakens something gutturally primal within him. 

“Uh uh,” the doctor tuts, ceasing his movements. “What’s my name, baby?” In lieu of a response, only pants of shortened breath escape your slackened jaw. There was no way Chisaki Kai was human, you decided. Not with the way his words sent every cell in your body into overdrive or the way his fat girth stretched you so deliciously without even entirely plunging his engorged cock. Not with how, despite his notoriety once proceeding him, he was often blatantly honest with you and certainly not with how utterly enamored he was with you and vice versa. “Say my name, baby, and I’ll give you a reward,”

“D-daddy, please,” you whisper in between breaths. Abiding by his word, Kai works his thick length into you, albeit still slowly, until your bones presses into his pubis and his whole cock carefully bottoms out inside you. His right hand trails up your tummy and dances along the skin of your sternum until his fingers encase your throat gingerly. Keeping still within you, the doctor tugs at your throat until you’re only resting on your spread knees as his lips ghost along the outer shell of your ear while he gives slow, deep, steady thrusts.  

“You like having daddy’s fat fucking cock in you, angel? Feel so fucking good around me, yes you do,”

A real poet, Kai was. 

Turning your head to face him, your fingers lace themselves in his messy locks and pull his lips to yours in a kiss that is entirely devoid of lust. He can bring the heat all he wants—it was your mission to make sure he understood that you wanted him in more than just sex. Even if the slow torturous withdrawing of his cock was absolutely divine. 

And he felt it too. Even with his hand delicately cupping your throat or the way his pelvis greets your plump ass with every thrust or the way your wet walls clench on him as if trying to expel his cock from inside of you. Kai can feel it in the way your nails are digging into the flesh of his arms or in the tufts of breath that leaves your nostrils because he leaves you absolutely breathless. He feels the love, and he wants to bask in it. 

Now that he’d quelled his hunger slightly, Chisaki pulls away from your endearing lip lock while simultaneously withdrawing his length from you. A small whimper leaves your lips at the loss before Kai turns you over, pressing your back against the mattress and sliding home once again. The passion and intimacy he feels is overwhelming, boiling his skin through every pore as he bears weight on one arm while the other caresses your cheek. “I meant it, you know,” the murmur dances like air along your own lips, warm breath inviting. “I want you in every possible way. I want to wake up next to you in the morning, experience every season that doesn’t pass for us in the Underground with you.” 

“Kai...” in return, you seal you mouth along his, wrapping your arms around him to pull him closer and coaxing him to move. Slow and steady, he withdraws himself from within you before snapping his hips once again until he’s fully sheathed. Each thrust feels like thunder. “M-more,” you choke out, breaking apart your kiss momentarily to beg. His focus shifts down to where you’re connected—where each vein of his throbbing erection greets and becomes acclimated for every crevice within your cavern. Angling his hips along with your own with the assistance of his hand, he manages to welcome that spongy weakness that makes your knees buckle and regurgitate a scream in response. 

“Right there, princess?”

“P-please!” The hand under the small of your back moves to hook around your knee, it’s twin mimicking the gesture and leaving you entirely at the mercy of Overhaul whose mission at the moment is to rearrange your insides in an entirely different sense. Pinning your knees to the bed, Kai is at the perfect angle to ram into your g-spot over and over at a rapid, even pace until you’re clenching around him deliciously, silently coercing his orgasm. “Oh my fucking god,”

“Mm, you’re so tight, baby. Ya gonna cum? Gonna cum nice and hard for me? Cum for daddy,” his words are almost enough—almost. And it was as if he knew the filthy, slopping sound of his cock reaming you wasn’t enough. Though whether enough for you or him remained a mystery, his thrusts are becoming erratic as he’s panting and grunting an unabashedly as he chases his release and oxygen. “I love you,” Kai’s voice is broken, “love you so much, just wanna fill you up over and over until your body only knows the taste of me.” And you aren’t sure if it’s his nasty, vile words or the way he is utterly knocking away at your g-spot that is causing you to convulse around him—that brings you over the final hurdle and over the dam. Screams rip past your lungs as your back arches as much as it can from it’s confines while your fingers twitch out of necessity to grip something—anything. 

You’re granted no reprieve in that regard, but it matters not with the way Kai is still smacking his hips into yours, dragging out your orgasm even longer while in pursuit for his own. There is no amount of physical contact in this moment that is enough for him, even as he slats his lips over yours and slides his tongue inside your mouth to greet yours. Hips beginning to stutter, Kai is fighting every fiber in his soul—torn between the dichotomy of wanting to cum and stave off his orgasm because he wants to feel the welcoming, convulsing walls of your pussy forever. And though you’d already came at least once, the pressure was building again rapidly from the stimulation of the uneven rhythm of Kai’s hips. Part of you is thankful his tongue is hungrily dancing with yours to keep your screams muted so as not to wake the children down the hall. But the rumbling in his chest from his own throaty groans become overwhelming, forcing him to break away to and let his grunts and slew of curses fly from his mouth freely. 

“I love you, Kai,” the moans are just as bad coming from you, but those four words coming from your lips are what do the aforementioned man in. And he can tell there is no lie dripping from a silver tongue here—you mean every ounce of these four little words. For everything that is Chisaki Kai—the former Yakuza leader, the former villain, the doctor, the father—you loved the man before you. 

“Fuck! Fuckfuckfuckfuck, ‘m gonna cum,” he wails, the rhythm of his cock head tamping against your womb matching the pacing of his broken speech, “daddy’s gonna cum so fucking deep in you, gonna make you mine forever, angel.” Another hissed out string of profanities pass through as his dick twitches almost violently, shooting out ropes of seed and painting your walls white. You can tell he meant what he said, even in his lustful spew, by the way he leaves his softening erection inside of your spasming cunt and sealing his emission inside until he was almost certain his claim held permanence. 

“I meant it too,” you mumble into Kai’s sweaty neck as he collapses on top of you. Though he’s boneless at the moment, having spent all of his energy, you feel the breath of his questioning grunt beside your ear before his face is attempting to look at you while half buried in your pillow. Gingerly, he removes his now flaccid member from you, adjusting himself so that his form molds around you and wraps his arm securely around your stomach. 

“You know,” Kai starts off slowly. The rich timber of his voice is thick with exhaust but is warm and welcoming all the same. “I was jealous before.”

“Jealous? Of what?” 

“My children love you—a woman who was nothing but a stranger who doesn’t even like kids. They warmed up to you so easily, much easier than they did with me,” there’s a brief pause between his statements, causing you to adjust under his grasp until you’re touching nose to nose with the doctor. His eyes are closed for a moment, his long and feathery lashes greeting the tops of his delicate cheekbones. “So I tried to understand. Tried to figure just why they gravitated towards you.”

“And what did you find?” Peeling back his eyelids, Kai’s rich amber eyes bore into your own. Irises swirling with admiration before the view is flooded with a sudden closeness and the press of his plush lips against yours in the most loving fashion.

Truth be told, he wasn’t sure how to answer. 

He had found determination and independence, qualities of a strong woman that his daughters looked up to. Free and proud and brave, he thinks, are the reasons his sons admired you. But there’s something more. There’s a love and warmth that you bring to the family, yet a sternness that doesn’t allow them to run rampant (not that they would under Overhaul’s upbringings) that spoke so motherly to each of his nine children. And somewhere along the way for the last six months that the Clinic had been under remodel, Kai found himself gravitating to all of those exact qualities in you, the envy transforming into an admiration of his own. It was an error in his initial magnetic attraction conspiracy theory; he thought that your fear had changed to attraction when it was his all along. 

But Kai’s not always the greatest with words, and the thought of spilling his deepest thoughts of you seems a daunting task that he’d rather replace with kissing you instead. Considering you asked a question, however, he did feel the need to respond with something—anything. 

“I found you.”

 “Honey, I can still help, you know,” you whine for the umpteenth time, folding your arms over your chest as you stand in the mayoral office of Dabi with your partner. It’s been a year since Todoroki Shouto had burned down Tropium Tattoos and the Underground Clinic and tonight was finally the night that the Underground had planned on mobilizing their forces. It had taken a full year of investigating, planning, building alliances with those on the Surface, and patience for the citizens to finally strike back. 

Enough was enough. 

All of you had been exiled at one point or another, but now the Surface was trying to exterminate all of you. 

“Angel, no,” Kai chides sternly, igniting the twitch on the leader’s face. Granted it had been six months since you and Kai had first declared this little relationship of yours and, as your best friend, Dabi was still slightly hesitant on the idea. Not that his opinion had much weight considering—

“Kai, I am only three months along. I can still fight!”

“Hell no,”

“Absolutely not,” both men snark simultaneously. Best friend or not, personal opinion aside, there was no way in the ninth circle of hell that Dabi was going to let you go to war while you were pregnant. And with Kai being the father, the chances of you getting your way in this moment with him were even slimmer. The doctor pinches the bridge of his nose underneath his black cloth mask with his thumb and middle finger before letting out an annoyed rift of air. “Dabi, I’m gonna take [ name ] home before we go over invasion plans. Do you mind?” 

“Nah,” the leader waves his purple and nude hands in dismissal, “besides, we should wait for Hawks to get here before we start all that.” With that, Kai grabs your wrist with his gloved hand and drags you away from the office. He knows you want to fight, and he knows you want to protect your family—all eleven with himself and the embryo included. But as a father with another—biological—one on the way, Chisaki Kai just can’t bring himself to allow you to put yourself in harm’s way. 

“Sweetheart,” he calls out, stopping just outside of the currently closed Tropium. The grey and white building looked crisp and clean and everything you wanted it to be but you often found yourself closing up shop early and coming in late to spend more time with your nine children at home. At the very least, you were grateful that your parlor was only a block or two away from the clinic. “I need you here where you can keep our children safe in case anyone slips through the cracks.” Even with his mask on, you can tell that Kai is trembling ever so slightly. The thought of someone making their way into his home and hurting his kids, hurting you, was enough to unleash the beast within. 

“I know,” you respond quietly. Using his grip on you to your advantage, you pull the doctor towards you until he’s towering over you and looking down directly into your eyes. “But you know me, always ready to jump headfirst into the fire,” his amber eyes soften, thinking back to a year ago when you had saved Eri from the burning clinic. To think that a year later, you would be living with him and carrying his child and occupying nearly every cell in his brain. 

“It’s your turn to watch the kids,” he jokes pulling down his mask below his chin to slat his lips over yours lovingly. It’s only half a joke—he knows better than anyone you would do anything to protect them. He’s known that since day one. 

“You better come back to us,” your demand is quiet and breathless and laced more with concern than it is with threat. The thought of Kai dying while on the Surface has plagued you for the last six months, even more so when you found out you were pregnant. He knew it too, knew how much worry and panic had disturbed your sleep when the realization that war was an option had settled in. Despite the knowledge that he carried about different afflictions and ailments; Kai had been at a loss for how to quell your anxiety. He hopes that circumstances aside, him reaching into the right-side pocket of his heavy, army green coat and pulling out the small black velvet box is the correct move. Gingerly holding up said box until it’s in your line of sight, he takes a step back before peeling back the lid to showcase a single, solitaire diamond set in a simple gold band. 

“I promise you I will come back. And when this is all over, we can finally enjoy our life in peace, so long as you’ll have me.”

#samwrights way too much #I'm so sorry it's so long #overhaul #my hero academia #my hero academia villains #bnha chisaki #kai chisaki #mha chisaki #overhaul x reader #soft!overhaul #shie hassaikai #kai chisaki x reader #chisaki kai #my hero academia overhaul #dabi my hero academia #bnha dabi #dabi is a todoroki #slight mention of hawks #villain!todoroki #conspiracy theory #fan theory #yagami yato #the underground #thank you for 2k #samwrights hit 2k

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MailOnline editor at large, who has helped show to record ratings, had blazing row with Alex Beresford

They were discussing the Sussexes' interview with Oprah, where the couple accused Royal Family of racism

Piers Morgan today doubled down after quitting Good Morning Britain by tweeting that he still doesn't believe any of Meghan's incendiary claims to Oprah in a defiant message sent as the show began without him with Strictly star Ranvir Singh in his chair.Susanna Reid admitted it will be a 'very different' programme without her co-star of five years and told viewers this morning that he had been a 'voice for many of you' through Brexit and the coronavirus pandemic.Mr Morgan sensationally quit the show on the day it scored record ratings after he told viewers he 'didn't believe a word she [Meghan] said' to Oprah and branded her 'Princess Pinocchio' after an interview where the Duchess said she was suicidal while five months pregnant and accused the Royal Family of racism. His views sparked more than 41,000 complaints made to Ofcom.

Just after the show began at 6am this morning he tweeted to his 7.8million followers: 'On Monday, I said I didn’t believe Meghan Markle in her Oprah interview. I’ve had time to reflect on this opinion, and I still don’t. If you did, OK. Freedom of speech is a hill I’m happy to die on. Thanks for all the love, and hate. I’m off to spend more time with my opinions'.

He also shared a quote by Britain's greatest prime minister Winston Churchill, which said:  'Some people's idea of free speech is that they are free to say what they like but if anyone else says anything back, that is an outrage'.

On an extraordinary day for the show he also walked off set live on air after the show's weatherman Alex Beresford accused him of unfairly 'trashing' Meghan, branding him 'diabolical' and saying: 'I'm sorry but Piers just spouts off on a regular basis and we have to sit there and listen'. Mr Beresford was not on screen today, with Laura Tobin presenting the GMB weather this morning.

Hours later Mr Morgan quit, with his supporters defending his views and claiming his exit is more bad news for free speech and a sad indictment of cancel culture in Britain after critics including Labour MP Dawn Butler encouraged people to complain to ITV and Ofcom. Others have questioned whether GMB's viewing figures will hold-up without its star, who helped add a million new viewers in his time on the show.

After Ranvir Singh, a GMB reporter and star of Strictly last year, stepped in for Piers today, Susanna then gave a short speech on the tumultuous events of the past 24 hours.

Ms Reid said: 'A number of people will know the news and many of you will not and will be surprised that Piers Morgan is not here this morning. Now, Piers and I have disagreed on many things and that dynamic was one of the things viewers loved about the programme.

'He is without doubt an outspoken, challenging, opinionated, disruptive broadcaster. He has many critics and he has many fans. You will know that I disagreed with him about Meghan's interview. He himself clarified his comments about her mental health on the show yesterday.'

Reid said there are 'many voices' on Good Morning Britain and 'everyone has their say'. She added: 'But now Piers has decided to leave the programme. Some of you may cheer and others may boo.

'He has been my presenting partner, Monday to Wednesday, for more than five years and during Brexit and the pandemic and other issues, he has been a voice for many of you and a voice that many of you have railed against.

'It is certainly going to be very different but shows go on and so on we go.'

Ranvir Singh, Reid's co-presenter for the morning, replied: 'Well said.' She described Morgan as a 'big character' and said 'many viewers will be absolutely gutted'. Singh called Morgan 'Marmite' and acknowledged his role in Good Morning Britain's success. Ms Singh is amongst the favourites to take the job, but said: 'I was here anyway, don't read anything into this, I was here anyway. I've shifted seats on this brand new desk'.

It came after 55-year-old Mr Morgan shocked viewers by walking off camera during a heated on-air row with weatherman Alex Beresford, saying 'I'm done with this' after being challenged on his position of the Duke and Duchess by his co-star. Afterwards ITV CEO Carolyn McCall - who formerly worked for the left-wing Guardian newspaper - said that the broadcaster's media and entertainment MD Kevin Lygo was speaking to Mr Morgan.And last night it was announced that Mr Morgan had quit the hugely popular ITV show - which he co-hosted with Susanna Reid.An ITV spokesman told MailOnline: 'Following discussions with ITV, Piers Morgan has decided now is the time to leave Good Morning Britain. ITV has accepted this decision and has nothing further to add.'It is understood Mr Morgan had been asked to apologise for his remarks which had been criticised by mental health campaigners but had declined.It brings to an end his six-year long association with the breakfast show, which he originally joined as a guest host in 2015, during which time he has made it must-see TV with a strong of exclusives and his strident opinions.Ironically it came the day after GMB recorded its highest ever viewing figures in the wake of Megan Markle's blockbuster Oprah Winfrey interview.It also came on the day that he had followed up with an agenda-setting interview with her father Thomas in which Mr Markle had taken aim at 'snotty' Harry, defended the British people and Royals against her claims of racism and revealed that he felt she had betrayed him, not the other way around.Earlier Morgan, who this evening Tweeted a picture of himself with former manager David Ferriter and the message 'trust your gut', also addressed his previous comments regarding the Duchess's mental health.Yesterday, he was criticised by the charity, Mind, after saying he 'didn't believe a word she said'. I wouldn't believe it if she read me a weather report,' he added.Today he addressed these remarks and said: 'When we talked about this yesterday I said as an all-encompassing thing I don't believe what Meghan Markle is saying generally in this interview and I still have serious concerns about the veracity of a lot of what she said.'But let me just state for the record on my position on mental illness and on suicide.'On mental illness and suicide these are clearly extremely serious things and should be taken extremely seriously and if someone is feeling that way they should get the treatment and the help they need every time. Every time.'And if they belong to an institution like the Royal family and they go and seek that help they should absolutely be given it.'It's not for me to question if she felt suicidal, I am not in her mind and that is for her to say.'My real concern was a disbelief frankly and I'm prepared to be proven wrong on this and if I'm wrong it is a scandal, that she went to a senior member of the Royal household and told them she was suicidal and was told she could not have any help because it would be a bad look for the family.'If that is true a) that person should be fired and b) The Royal family have serious questions that need to be answered.'But it was not enough to stop a wildfire social media campaign against him that resulted in 41,000 complaints to TV watchdog Ofcom by last night who announced they had launched a probe under their 'harms' code. The campaign featured an avalanche of tweets which criticised the host and supporting Meghan - some sharing direct links to the Ofcom complaints page. Among those launching criticism at Morgan were Labour MP Dawn Butler, who copied in the Twitter page of ITV to her Tweet.

In her social media post, which shared a comment from Mind criticising Morgan's remarks, she asked: '@ITV what have you decided to do?'Another Twitter user said: 'It took me about seven minutes to complain to fill in the Ofcom online form to complain about Piers Morgan's disgusting behaviour on mental health and race issues. It's not much, but if enough people complain they have to do something!' One Twitter user - who said: 'I am determined to get Piers off GMB Lolz. Which petitions do I need to sign?' - received a response with a link to the Ofcom complaints page.Their decision to act was in stark contrast to what happened with 24,500 people complained about dance troop Diversity's BLM-inspired routine on Britain's Got Talent last year when the watchdog refused a probe and said: 'We carefully considered a large number of complaints about this artistic routine, an area where freedom of expression is particularly important.'Diversity's performance referred to challenging and potentially controversial subjects, and in our view, its central message was a call for social cohesion and unity.'Any depictions of violence by the performers were highly stylised and symbolic of recent global events, and there was no explicit reference to any particular political organisation - but rather a message that the lives of black people matter.'Mr Morgan is also Editor at large for MailOnline and writes a twice weekly column for the website. A spokesman for MailOnline said: 'This is a very sad day for British free speech and one ITV will come to regret very quickly. We stand by Piers 120%.'  LOADS MORE ON THE DM

WELL HE HAS CERTAIN MADE HIS OPINION CLEAR AND MANY AGREE, MYSELF INCLUDED! EVEN GIVEN PAST ERRORS HE IS TO BE COMMENDED FOR TAKING SUCH A PUBLIC STANCE!

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

[humans4vampires]

Cold Heart

Context: This story was inspired by a tumblr post from tumblr user @cozycullens. The post outlined the potential for sappy holiday content that the original story lacked. The post noted that Twilight fans had to fill in the blanks; I thought it would be fun to write out what Valentine’s Day could have looked like for Edward and Bella. The timeline of this story edits the original canon, meaning the breakup in New Moon and subsequent recoupling happens earlier, allowing the pair to be reunited in time to spend both the Christmas holiday season together and Valentine’s Day. This is before the events are set in motion for the vampire army attack in Eclipse. I’d also like to mention that this story addresses a scene that occurs later in the timeline of the novel. I’ve edited it here to give Edward and Bella a bit of private time that is free of the pressures that the later happenings of Eclipse bring to the moment. In this, I have used direct quotes from Meyer’s novel, and I do not claim to own that content in any way. As stated, this is purely for fun and to share with my fellow Twilight fans.

READ PART TWO HERE

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The dull blue grey light of the morning filtered through my window in a haze, waking me gently from inconsequential dreams. My natural instincts to unfurl myself from my usual swaddle of blankets to reach for him felt empty and unnecessary. Rather, I found myself spread across my bed in a sweaty mess of fabric.

“Edward?” I said softly, propping myself up to take in the room. I blinked quickly and tried to brush the mess of my hair from my face, speaking his name again as a question. There was no reply.

I tried to think back to the night before; I didn’t think he had gone hunting. No, he had surely been with me when I fell asleep. A compilation of Victorian poetry was open face-down on his side of my bed. We made the trip to Seattle a few weeks ago to get the book I needed to get started on my research paper. I had chosen the topic of Tennyson and Rossetti as an ironic gesture toward him – my very own post-Victorian era angel. He was reading his favorites to me, his voice a velvet whisper when I had fallen asleep in his cool embrace.

No, I was sure he had been with me throughout the night. I ran my left palm over the bare sheet beside me and felt the lingering presence of his wintry skin. It was unusual for him to leave before I woke. It was my favorite part of each day, and his. I was wondering what had called him away as I picked up the heavy text to see where he had left off. As I turned the pages to face me, a small piece of paper fluttered into my lap. The note he had left in his elegant script explained his absence.

‘Who are wise in love, love most, say least. Happy Valentine’s Day, love.’

He quoted Tennyson, I was sure, but the poem he had left open was not the same one he referenced. Instead, the book was open to Tennyson’s ‘Crossing the Bar,’ which was certainly not a love poem. I scanned it quickly, trying to garner any meaning from it without success. My mind was racing elsewhere, my heart beating quickly with exultant dread. So he had gone to prepare whatever exorbitant Valentine’s Day surprise he had planned. As fate would have it, this holiday had arrived on a school day and would provide a public audience to witness the surely over-the-top display Edward had planned for me.

Edward’s obsession with making the most of my human experiences had only intensified since reaching our compromise for Carlisle to turn me after my impending high school graduation. Christmas had been a deluge of cheer and merriment thanks to Alice, who was overcompensating for lost time with me – while also, just being Alice. I was still convinced it hadn’t snowed quite as much as she’d wanted and she had somehow managed a snow machine to fill in my yard for Christmas morning. Alice had laughed off my assumptions as absurd, but Charlie was still trying to work out how our yard had had a good three feet more snow than the rest of our neighborhood.

The halls had certainly been decked in Cullen home, too. It had to be visible from space from the sheer amount of Christmas lights neatly hung on every eave and railing. For the entire month of December, the house smelled of fresh gingerbread and pine. Every surface had been transformed with fresh garlands and shiny decorations. The fireplace in the grand living room was constantly crackling a gentle fire, flickering its light against the enormous tree trimmed with ornaments gathered over the many decades of Christmases past. And the gifts – oh – I couldn’t even bring myself to continue the thought.

I was brought back to reality, the sweet valentine in my shaking hand. I took a staggered breath and made a passing glance at the clock as I rushed to the bathroom. I tried not to think about the day ahead as I dressed. Charlie had already left for the station and the rest of my morning at home seemed to move in a blur of anxiety. I stumbled out the door in a black turtleneck, jeans, bean boots, and my mustard yellow coat. I thought my very standard attire might signal Edward to my disinterest in any outlandish public displays of affection. I drove slowly to Forks High School through the rain muddled snow. My truck dredged through the sludge into the parking spot beside the familiar silver Volvo.

The parking lot was already full and busy with the usual Friday commotion. I looked out my rearview mirror to take in the pops of pink and red from the Valentine’s baubles that everyone seemed to be toting. I had always found the holiday rather arbitrary – a well-marketed event to boost the sales of chocolates and flowers. Until my mother had found Phil, Valentine’s Day was usually spent in front of the television with a pint of ice cream, two spoons, and a chick-flick. I was trying to remember the last Valentine’s Day movie my mom and I had watched together when a quick knock on my driver’s side window snapped my eyes from my rearview.

The morning’s panic melted from my bones as I took him in. Edward was standing there, my favorite crooked smile on his lips, a single and perfect red rose held up in his hand.

“Good morning,” he murmured as I opened my door and got to my feet to stand in front of him. “Did you get my Valentine?”

“Mmm,” I hummed. “Tennyson?”

He nodded, a smirk crossing his expression. “Happy Valentine’s Day, love.”

I felt a blush beginning to mark my cheeks and looked down at my feet as he handed me my rose. He moved to rest that now empty hand above my head on the frame of my truck, leaning to tighten the space between us. His free hand swept down my jaw, his gentle fingers stopping below my chin to tilt my head up. He bent down to press his lips to mine, his cool breath sending my delicate humanity into a tailspin. The kiss was, as expected, refined… at first. Unexpectedly, he draped an arm around my body to pull me closer to his frame. He lifted me effortlessly to continue the kiss as my free hand found its way around the base of his neck and into his bronze hair.

When his response became rigid and he began to return my feet to their reluctant ground, I realized I had forgotten to breathe. My legs trembled against the sudden gravity and he steadied me as I took in sharp breaths. He chuckled lightly and shook his head.

“What am I going to do with you?” he teased.

“With any hope, that, again.”

He took a slow step back and smirked, “I do enjoy sweeping you off your feet.”

My head was still spinning as I grabbed my bag from the truck and shut the door behind me. Edward took my right hand as we walked to class, my single rose in the left.

The rest of the day continued on and I was a happy bystander to the couples declaring their love for one another throughout the day. It seemed each period passed with another sudden delivery of roses, large teddy bears, or chocolates. Joyce Lowell in Government received a loud serenade from half of the school’s marching band, her boyfriend, Aaron, the faux-conductor. Each time the door to the classroom opened my heart skipped a beat with the fresh fear that Edward might have some embarrassing demonstration planned. I wasn’t eager to hurt his feelings and so I kept the question from him all day. I had cracked by fifth period when he finally asked, “Why is your heart is thrumming like a hummingbird’s?”

“I’m worried that you have a grand romantic gesture planned,” I took a sharp breath, anxious for his response. My heart rate only increased when he shrugged and walked ahead of me into the classroom.

I was at a loss for words when he chuckled. “Am I not allowed a grand gesture on Valentine’s Day?” Panic rushed through me before he continued in a more serious tone, “Do you honestly believe that my romantic displays are akin to those of someone like Mike Newton?”

His eyes glanced down at the trinkets gathered in my arms. I thought this tradition had been left in elementary school, but it seemed my friends still enjoyed giving each other Valentine’s treats. Jessica and Angela both had given me small paper crafts and chocolates to mark the occasion. Even Tyler and Eric participated, handing out boxes of tiny heart candies.

The only class Edward could not manage to work out to have with me our senior year was math – considering my being in a far lower level than was excusable for him to fail into. This, of course, was the only class I had exclusively with Mike. I had found it funny that it bothered Edward in the slightest; until today, when Mike seized the opportunity to give me a large stuffed bear, a rather huge box of chocolates, and a clearly handmade valentine. All platonically, Mike had assured me, as he was still on-and-off with Jessica and I was still very much Edward’s – only Edward’s.

I shook my head as I fumbled to stack all of my favors onto a pile on my desk, keeping the rose in my hand to tap lightly on the tip of Edward’s nose.

He tilted his brow at my playful gesture. “You have nothing to worry about. I simply have arranged for us to have a night alone. My family have their own Valentine’s Day traditions and we’ll have the house to ourselves. For this one night could we try to forget everything besides just you and me?” he pleaded, unleashing the full force of his eyes on me. “It seems like I can never get enough time like that. I need to be with you. Just you.”

“No,” I shook my head again. “Just you is good.”

The hitch in my tone caught his attention, but he didn’t have a chance to respond. Mr. Banner began lecturing on optics and light. I couldn’t focus on Physics; I could only hear Edward’s methodic voice repeating ‘I need to be with you’ again and again. Each passing thought brought a new blush to my cheeks that I tried to hide behind a curtain of my hair. I was sure he could hear my fluttering heart, but I couldn’t focus on that either. I was entirely clouded with thoughts of him. I stared at his strong hands, folded together in front of him on the table. How I imagined them on my body a million times, his cold fingertips grazing over my bare skin in the places he refused to wander. It was all I could think of the rest of the day.

When I was back in my room, a different blur of anxiety plagued me than when I had left it in the morning. Edward and I went our separate ways after school. He had filled me in on how exactly he had planned to handle the issue of Charlie. My father was still learning to trust me again and another night out of the house was certainly going to come under some heavy interrogation. I was technically still grounded even though Edward had been following Charlie’s very strict rules to a perfect degree. I was sure that Charlie hadn’t missed the fact that it was Valentine’s Day and I could only imagine the things he would think Edward and I would be doing if left alone. I was pressing the subject when Edward said, “Esme spoke with Charlie today and let him know that Carlisle is taking my brothers and I on a long-promised camping trip. You’ll be having a girls’ night with Esme, Alice, and Rosalie, as Charlie knows it. He’s been hoping you’d be spending more time with Alice soon.”

I felt a twinge of guilt for all the lying that had to be done to protect Charlie. This lie was much less to protect him from the perils of life threatening vampire attacks and much more about protecting him from the thought of his teenage daughter being alone with her boyfriend on Valentine’s Day. The guilt subsided when I remembered that I would get to be alone with Edward.

I stood in my room, hands steadying me on my dresser, knees shaking from the anticipation. The mix of emotions kept wracking me in waves. Edward had made it very clear; we could not be together physically until I was changed. My safety, was not something he was willing to jeopardize to satisfy any desire – which, to his credit, was entirely the reason I was alive. It was difficult to argue with Edward on that fact, but it was so incredibly difficult to argue with my own desires, still. And yet, I felt foolish all the same. I was so intensely human. Though he’d told me many times that he felt the same way for me, I knew he couldn’t possibly lust for me the way I did for him. I was able to reason that point logically, but part of me questioned it in this moment. Had he changed his mind?

I knew what was waiting for me at the Cullens’. It hadn’t been much more than a month since the last time I had genuinely spent the night there for a ‘girls’ night.’ Edward didn’t want me anywhere near Jacob and so Edward had been avoiding distant hunting trips to keep a close watch on me. Alice was all too eager to babysit to allow Edward a satiating hunt; it left me free to be played with as if I were her life-sized doll. That wasn’t what I was fixated on now. The image of the intricate wrought-iron bed burned in my mind. The thought of Edward and I wrapped tenderly in its golden threads made me quiver again, a sigh escaping my lips.

A knock at the front door made my heart stutter. I heard Charlie gather himself up off the couch to get the door. I stopped listening and only heard the light murmur of greetings as I rushed to find something appropriate to wear. What kind of outfit were you supposed to put together to seduce your vampire boyfriend? I was clashing hangers together across the pole, a bit frantic, when I heard her behind me.

Alice shook her head. “You look like you need to sit down. Let me handle this,” she said.

I decided it was better not to argue with her. I was, in all fairness, a mess, and there was only so much harm she could do with my own wardrobe to work with. She confidently pulled my small duffle from the top shelf of my closet and began packing things without truly looking at them. She had already seen what she would need.

I was sitting in my rocking chair when she looked back to me, still absently packing my bag. She looked like she was waiting for me to say something, but I swallowed uncomfortably rather than working up the nerve to talk.

She cast me a sympathetic smile as she removed something from my closet and tossed it toward me. “Try this,” she said.

I stood to change into the hyacinth blue sweater Alice had given it to me as a Christmas gift. Unlike many of the other fashion pieces Alice had tried to dress me in, I did like it. It was soft, probably a thin cashmere, with a plunging V neckline. It fit my frame tightly and was flattering in a way that I couldn’t justify being embarrassed by. She moved to my dresser then, digging through the very bottom drawer to pull out a short skirt she had also gifted me that I was not particularly fond of. Before I could argue, she slung it onto the bed.

“Work with me here, Bella,” she said sternly.

I pulled on the black skirt without a fight. Alice finished off my outfit with a pair of expensive black leather boots.

“And those were a gift from Esme, before you think of disputing them,” she lectured.

“No, I like them. At least they’re covering more of my skin,” I said, zipping them up.

Alice peaked her eyebrows, a smirk budding on her face as she closed my bag. I felt the rush of blood on my complexion again. “Alice – “

“Come on, let’s go before you lose it,” she said quickly, pulling my hand and leading me out of my room and down the stairs.

Charlie didn’t bother looking away from the television as we called a quick goodbye to him. Alice carried me through the slush in a movement so brief that I had no time to process it, placing me in the passenger seat of her small yellow Porsche. Forks blurred outside the windows and in the darkness of the car, it was easier for me to talk about what I was getting myself into.

“Does he…” I asked in her direction, not finishing the thought.

“I don’t think I should really say anything, Bella.” She answered, plainly.

“Since when do you keep things to yourself, Alice?”

She chuckled quietly, “Whatever I say now is not going to help. I’m just dropping you off. You’re not the only one with Valentine’s Day plans, you know.”

“That’s not fair,” I complained. “He’s seen whatever you’ve seen. He’s not going into this blind like I am.”

“Oh, yes he is,” she said proudly. “I’ve been careful to stay away from him today – and it’s not quite clear what’s going to happen. You’ve only been growing bolder in the last few hours.”

Bolder? I certainly didn’t feel it. In the light of the dashboard, I saw Alice turn to me as the car began to slow. We were already in the driveway. When the car stopped, I felt a quick breeze from the opening and closing of her door. She had slung my bag over her shoulder quickly before arriving at my door to help me to the porch steps. I doubted even Alice thought I was that uncoordinated to walk a few feet without falling; she was carrying me everywhere to keep the boots safe, I thought. She set me down on the porch and walked ahead of me into the house. I followed her in, confused.

“I thought you said you were just dropping me off?”

                  We were in the living room when she said, “I am. Edward isn’t here yet. He had an errand to run. He’ll be here soon and we’ll be gone – don’t worry.”

                  A fresh blush met my cheeks as I locked eyes with the another set in the room. Rosalie was perched on the edge of the sofa, bent over the coffee table arranging what looked like a large photo album. She had small papers and photos scattered all over the table, some in small piles on the floor beside her. She gazed up at me with the come-to-be-expected level of enthusiasm I generally received, but there was a hint of something else in her expression. It caught me by surprise and left me gawking at her silently. Rosalie’s appearance always struck me, but tonight she was especially beautiful. Her tight satin dress was just the perfect shade of red to compliment her equally satin skin, her golden hair a perfect, elegant twist, and her long bare legs crossed in front of her were only further elongated by her strappy, red stilettos. Alice had done her best with me, but I felt myself self-consciously tug at the hem of my skirt.

                  That inexplicable look that I had caught in Rosalie’s expression seemed to grow stronger as she gauged my assessment of her. A small smile crossed her lips as she looked back to what she was working on and I looked to Alice, who was dancing back down the stairs now. I hadn’t noticed her departure, but she was already redressed in an ensemble that mirrored the glamour of Rosalie’s. Alice bent one leg up behind her, fastening the tiny buckle on the strap of her heel, careful not to bend and crease the fabric on her burgundy slip-dress.

“Alright, Rose. Let’s not keep them waiting any longer.” Alice rolled her eyes at me quickly before Rosalie noticed. Alice had her keys in her tiny hands as she walked my direction to head for the door.

“I will see you tomorrow,” she said with a coy grin.

Rosalie was out the door faster than I could follow. I turned to Alice as she moved at a more mortal pace. “Where are you going?” I asked.

Alice waved as she replied, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Bella!” The door was shut behind her then. I heard the muffled roar of her Porsche as she and Rosalie left me behind. I assumed that I was completely alone then. I was curious to know where they were going, but my mind was busy calculating other worries. I stood in the Cullens’ living room, taking in the sheer silence. The only sound was coming from the low burning fire still crackling dimly in the fireplace. I unlocked my tense limbs to move toward the heat. I stopped briefly to survey Rosalie’s project and flipped through a couple of pages on the bound album.

Were these all valentines? I picked up a few loose papers from the table and skimmed them quickly. It seemed that Rosalie had been collecting notes from her admirers for decades, compiling the highlights in an album with cards dating back to 1929. Some of the earlier letters were from when she was still human, if I wasn’t mistaken. A few authors were brave enough to sign their names, but most were anonymous confessions. I spent more time snooping through Rosalie’s valentines than I should have, but part of me thought that she must have wanted me to see them. Why else would she have left them all here?

I focused myself again and took a seat on the edge of the hearth.

                  I was glad I had a moment to gather myself and took the opportunity to take a few deep, but unsteady, breaths. Why was I so unnerved? I closed my eyes and tried to summon my buried fantasies of Edward. There I let myself imagine him, pulling me tightly to his chest, letting his lips roam my jaw, my neck, and the dips of my collarbones. What would he look like bare? I’d only been able to guess the parts of him that were always just beyond my reach. I let those thoughts in too, imagining my own fingers tracing patterns around the curves of his muscles. To bring him close to me, skin to skin – the thought alone painted my face in a soft blush. I bit my lip, letting go a full breath I had been holding. I opened my eyes then and immediately found him.

He was standing across the room from me, a statue of indescribable, sculpted beauty, leaning on the wall casually. He had a peaceful expression resting in his features, but his bright golden eyes were burning with something I couldn’t explain. My favorite crooked smile slowly crossed his lips as his eyes seemed to search my body. I blushed more deeply, a decision forming more firmly in my mind.

I loved him, purely, and every ounce of my body and soul ached to be his. It was exactly the reason I had asked him to change me himself. I wanted his venom to alter me permanently, his lips on my skin to be the last human sensation I’d ever feel. I wanted to be tangibly his, forever; for Edward to lay claim to me in an absolute and eternal way. If I was his, then he was mine. This desire burned in me more brightly in this moment than it ever had. But there were other human sensations I ached for now. And suddenly, I was sure I was not willing to sacrifice them.

Edward moved slowly across the room to perch in front of me. The height of the hearth and his tall body in a crouch before me, leveled us to be equally face-to-face. As he bent, he balanced a small, thin velvet box on my knees. I made no move to open it, so he chuckled lightly and opened it to reveal a small glittering heart-shaped charm. Even in the dim firelight, the brilliant crystal’s intricate cuts glinted countless sparkling rays of color. It was hung on a silver chain as thin as thread.

He was the first to break the silence.

“It was my mother’s.” He shrugged deprecatingly. “I inherited quite a few baubles like this. I’ve given some to Esme, Alice, and Rosalie throughout the years. So, clearly, this is not a big deal in any way.” I could feel his eyes on me, but I continued to stare down, not quite ready to speak. “A hand-me-down,” he reminded me sternly. “You said that was allowable.”

“I guess I did say that,” I said in a whisper.

He chuckled at my reluctance. “I thought it was a good representation,” he continued. “It’s hard and cold.” He laughed. “And it throws rainbows in the sunlight.”

“You forgot the most important similarity,” I murmured. “It’s beautiful.”

“My heart is just as silent,” he mused. “And it, too, is yours.”

I offered the box to him and moved to gather my hair away from my neck, turning to the fire. As he moved to clasp the chain around my neck, I said, “Thank you for both.”

His fingers seemed to linger on the skin of my throat as I turned back to face him. Our lips were only inches apart now. I moved my hands to wrap them around his neck.

“No, thank you. It’s a relief to have you accept a gift so easily. Good practice for you, too.” He grinned, flashing his teeth.                   His eyes wandered down to take pride in his accepted gift. I was grateful for the plunging neckline of my sweater when his gaze lingered where the crystal charm hung delicately above my chest. I made a mental note to thank Alice later and took a steadying breath. I began to feel cautiously optimistic. Perhaps getting what I wanted would not be as difficult as I’d expected it to be.

No, of course it was going to be just exactly that difficult. I cleared my throat lightly and braced myself. “Can we discuss something?” I asked. “I’d appreciate it if you could begin by being open-minded.”

He hesitated for a moment and returned his eyes to mine. “I’ll give it my best effort,” he agreed, cautious now. He unwrapped my arms from around his neck as he moved to put space between us.

“I’m not breaking any rules here,” I promised. “This is strictly about you and me.”

“Listen to your heart fly,” he murmured. “It’s fluttering like a hummingbird’s wings,” he repeated the analogy he had applied to me earlier in the day. “Are you all right?”

“I’m great,” I said formally. I wondered why I was being so formal.

“Please go on then,” he encouraged.

“Well, I guess, first, I wanted to talk to you about that whole ridiculous marriage condition.”

“It’s only ridiculous to you. What about it?” He was backing further away from me now.

I leaned closer to him, placing my hands on his knees to keep him near me. “I was wondering… is that open to negotiation?”

Edward frowned, serious now. “I’ve already made the largest concession by far and away – I’ve agreed to take your life against my better judgment. And that ought to entitle me to a few compromises on your part.”

“No.” I shook my head, focusing on keeping my face composed. “That part’s a done deal. We’re not discussing that now. I want to hammer out some other details.”

He looked at me suspiciously. “Which details do you mean exactly?”

I hesitated. “Let’s clarify your prerequisites first – matrimony?” I made it sound like a dirty word.

“Yes.” He smiled a wide smile. “To start with.”

The shock spoiled my carefully composed expression. “There’s more?”

“Well,” he said, his face calculating. “If you’re my wife, then what’s mine is yours… So there would be no issue with Dartmouth tuition.”

“Anything else? While you’re already being absurd?”

“Time. I’m finding it quite ephemeral… like it’s slipping through my fingers,” as he spoke, he rose his finger tips to sweep a gentle line over my exposed collarbones.

I shook my head, trying to forget his distracting touch. “No. No time. That’s a deal breaker.”

He sighed longingly. “Just a year or two?”

I refused to give into his burning amber eyes. “What else?”

“That’s it. Unless you’d like to talk cars…”

He grinned widely when I grimaced, then took my hand and began playing with my fingers. “I didn’t realize there was anything else you wanted besides being transformed into a monster yourself. I’m extremely curious.” His voice was low and soft. The slight edge would have been hard to detect if I hadn’t known it so well.

I paused, staring at his hand on mine. I still didn’t know how to begin. I felt his eyes watching me and I was afraid to look up. The blood began to burn in my face.

His cool hand cupped my cheek. “You’re blushing?” he asked in surprise. I kept my eyes down. “Please, Bella, the suspense is painful.”

I bit my lip.

“Bella.” His tone reproached me now, reminding me that it was hard for him when I kept my thoughts to myself.

“Edward,” I said, nervous, staring at a freckle on my wrist. “There’s something that I want to do before I’m not human anymore.”

He waited for me to continue. I didn’t. My face was hot.

“Whatever you want,” he encouraged, anxious and completely clueless.

“Do you promise?” I muttered, knowing my attempt to trap him with his words was not going to work. But he was unable to resist my coaxing.

“Yes,” he said. I looked up through my lashes to see that his eyes were earnest and confused. “Tell me what you want, and you can have it.”

I couldn’t believe how awkward and idiotic I felt. I was too innocent. I didn’t have the faintest idea how to be seductive. I would just have to settle for flushed and self-conscious.

“You,” I mumbled almost incoherently.

“I’m yours.” He smiled, still oblivious, trying to hold my gaze as I looked away again.

I took a deep breath and leaned closer to him, pressing my lips to his. He kissed me back, bewildered but willing, his lips gentle against mine. I began to slide my hands from his knees, up his thighs and slowly toward his waist. I hadn’t gotten very far when I all but heard the click in his head as he put together my words and my actions, his lips freezing in place.

He pushed me away at once, his face heavily disapproving.

“Be reasonable, Bella.”

“Edward, I –. “ He had cut me off, placing a single finger over my lips to quiet me.

“No.” His face was hard.

I was surprised by my reaction to his dismissal. I raised my hand to swat at his. My action didn’t move him, of course, but he moved his hand from my mouth in response. “You are not going to shush me,” I said sternly. “We’re here discussing terms of an eternity together – marriage and other promises – but sex?” I said the word louder than the rest. “Edward, why can’t we talk about sex?”

He was frozen there, hands at his side, eyes locked on mine. I felt the charge of adrenaline passing quicker than it had come. We sat there for a moment in silence with only my quick breathing and rapid pulse as audio. I shifted my gaze down as the rush subsided. It took me a minute to recognize why I was staring at my freckle again, the blush returning – why my stomach felt uneasy, why there was too much moisture in my eyes, why I suddenly wanted to run from the room.

Rejection washed through me, instinctive and strong.

I knew it was irrational. He’d been very clear on other occasions that my safety was the only factor. Yet I’d never made myself quite so vulnerable before. It was hard to beg for the mercy of an angel.

Edward moved then, bringing his hand up to my chin to pull my face up until I had to look at him again. He scrutinized my face for a long moment while I tried unsuccessfully to twist away from his gaze. His brow furrowed, and his expression became horrified as I continued to fight off the onslaught of water in my eyes.

His other hand rushed to my cheek, his thumb stroking there reassuringly. “You know why I have to say no,” he murmured. “You know that I want you, too.”

“Do you?” I whispered, my voice full of accusation and doubt.

He held my face at my jaw now, his fingers on my neck at the base of my hair. “Of course I do, you beautiful, oversensitive girl.” He laughed once, and then his voice was bleak. “Doesn’t everyone? I feel like there’s a line behind me, jockeying for position, waiting for me to make a big enough mistake… You’re too desirable for your own good.”

It seemed like he wanted to press on, anxiety flooding him as it had me throughout the day. I took a breath.

“Tell me if I have anything wrong,” I tried to sound detached. “Your demands are marriage, college, more time, and a faster car.”

“Only the first is a demand,” he said taking a breath. “The others are merely requests.”

“And my lone, solitary demand is – “

“Demand?” he interrupted, on edge again.

“Yes, demand.” I said confidently, looping my fingers around his wrists and tugging until he dropped them. I was not going to concede, now that I knew he wanted this as badly as I did. I would have to be brave for the both of us. I kept my gaze locked on his, placing a hand on his chest to request more space between us.

Edward immediately responded, backing up slightly and resting on his knees with room in front of him. Without breaking the contact we had, I slid down so that we were both on our knees. I brought both hands to the collar of his shirt and began to unbutton slowly, never moving my eyes from his.

“Please,” I begged. “There is nothing I want more than you.”

He took a deep breath. I was surprised that it sounded a little unsteady.

“I could kill you,” he whispered.

I had the last button undone then and slid the fabric from his shoulders to the floor. I was gliding my hands down his chest and placing my lips over his heart when I murmured against his skin. “I don’t think you could.”

As I kissed him there, a low sound escaped his lips. A moan? My body ached in a way it never had. I felt electrified. My heart jolted, words tumbling out of my mouth to take advantage of the sudden uncertainty in his eyes. “Please, try,” I pleaded.

His hands were wrapped around my biceps then, his head bent down to bring his lips to my ear, making me shiver. “This is unbearable. So many things I’ve wanted to give you – and this is what you demand. Do you have any idea how painful it is, refusing you when you plead with me this way?”

“Then don’t refuse,” I suggested breathlessly.

He didn’t respond. I tossed my head back to catch my breath, letting my hair fall down behind me. Edward’s hands still held my arms firmly. “Please,” I tried again.

He bent his head to my neck. “Bella…” He shook his head slowly, but it didn’t feel like denial as his face, his lips, moved back and forth across my throat. It felt more like surrender. My heart sputtered frantically when his lips finally stopped to embrace my skin. The same low sound spilled from my lips now, which seemed to hit Edward with the same electrical shock.

His grip tensed instantly and I was sure he was going to push me away again.

I was wrong.

His lips were on mine, his hands pulling me up to close the space between us. His mouth was not gentle; there was a brand-new edge of conflict and desperation in the way his lips moved. When his hands moved into my hair, I locked my arms around his neck, tightening my hold on him. To my suddenly overheated skin, his body felt colder than ever. I trembled, but it was not from the chill.

He didn’t stop kissing me. I was the one who had to break away, gasping for air. Even then his lips did not leave my skin, they just moved to my throat. So quickly that I wasn’t even sure how it happened, I was in his arms, his lips still exploring my skin, as we nearly flew through the house. Human velocity was not fast enough for him. We were in his bedroom then, still locked in each other’s arms as he fell onto his back on the bed.

The thrill of victory was a strange high; it made me feel powerful. Brave. My hands weren’t unsteady now and my fingers traced the patterns I had dreamed of a thousand times. He was too beautiful. What was the word he had used? Unbearable – that was it. His beauty was too much to bear…

I was on top of him, our lips pulled together again and moving in heated sync. Edward’s hands were exploring my body. His hands were tight around my waist, straining me closer to him. All I wanted was my skin to be bare against his – his grip made it difficult to reach to remove my sweater, but not impossible. Just as I had my stomach exposed, cold iron fetters locked around my wrists, and pulled my hands above my head, which was suddenly on a pillow.

His lips were at my ear again. “Bella,” he murmured, his voice warm and velvet. “Stop trying to take your clothes off.”

“Do you want to do that part?” I asked breathlessly.

“Not tonight,” he answered softly. His lips were slower now against my cheek and jaw, all the urgency gone.

“Edward, don’t –,” I started to argue, trying to free my hands and arching my body to mold myself more closely to him.

“I’m not saying no,” he reassured me. “I’m just saying not tonight.”

I had never felt frustration this way before. I was restless, eyes wild and questioning on his.

“I wasn’t born yesterday,” he laughed. “Out of the two of us, which do you think is more unwilling to give the other what they want? You just promised to marry me before you do any changing, but if I give in tonight, what guarantee do I have that you won’t go running off to Carlisle in the morning? I am – clearly – much less reluctant to give you what you want. Therefore… you first.”

I exhaled with a loud huff. “I have to marry you first?” I asked in disbelief.

“That’s the deal – take it or leave it. A compromise.” Edward pressed himself to me, urging me to accept his terms. His arms wrapped around me, and he began kissing me in a way that should be illegal. Too persuasive – it was duress, coercion. I tried to keep a clear head… and failed quickly and absolutely.

“How did this happen?” I moaned, and not in a good way. “I thought I was holding my own tonight – for once – and now, all of a sudden – “

“You’re engaged,” he finished.

“Edward, no.” I objected.

“Are you going back on your word?” he demanded. He pulled back to read my face. His expression was entertained. He was having fun.

I glared at him, trying to ignore the way his smile made my heart react.

“Are you?” he pressed.

“No,” I groaned. “No. I’m not. I just need time to think. I can’t think right now – give me some time to think.”

He kissed me again quickly. Another too persuasive kiss.

“Take all the time you need.”

He kissed me another time. “Do you get the feeling that everything is backward?” he laughed. “Traditionally, shouldn’t you be arguing my side, and I yours?”

“There isn’t much that’s traditional about you and me.”

Neither of us would surrender in this moment – that was clear. But there were compromises that were pending on the horizon. And, if nothing, I had this night to service my fantasies for awhile. I bit my lip and chuckled.

“I’m curious,” I sighed. “What exactly did you have planned for tonight?”

He didn’t answer. Instead he was up and out of the bed, a hand extended toward me.

I let out my last sigh of contest and threw my hands down on the bed to heave myself up. Edward laughed to himself as I slid to the edge of the bed and stood. I fidgeted in my sweater and straightened my skirt as I walked toward him. I took his hand and noticed him taking in my figure again.

I raised a brow. “Did you want to get back in bed?”

Edward chuckled again, shaking his head. “No, but please do remind me to thank Alice in the morning.”

I rolled my eyes as he led me from his bedroom and into the rest of our romantic evening alone.

PART TWO

 ____

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Twilight Saga world, which is trademarked by Stephenie Meyer and Little Brown Books. All characters referenced are owned by Stephenie Meyer, and I do not claim any ownership over them or the Twilight Saga. The story told here is of my own invention. This story is for entertainment only – fun – and is not part of the official story line. I am grateful to Stephenie Meyer for the creation of these characters and I in no way am profiting from the creation and publication of this story. Some lines are directly quoted from Meyer’s book, Eclipse, and I do not claim to own Meyer’s words.

References:

Meyer, Stephenie. Eclipse. Little, Brown, 2013.

Tennyson, Alfred Tennyson, and W. E. Williams. Tennyson: Poems. Penguin, 1985.

#edwardcullen #edwardandbella #valentinesday #twilight renaissance #twilightfanfic #twilightfanfiction #twilightsaga

[attackonmyself]

Beat the Heat--NSFW

Inspired by a prompt from @voltage-vixen​‘s Summer of Smut Writing Challenge but took waaaaay too long for me to complete, and I missed the deadline. Anyways, thanks to @voltagesmutter​, @passagesthroughpages, and Lia_Jones (all amazing writers themselves!) for all your help! Dedicated to all Victor stans, and my Discord family!

Please see this amazing artwork that inspired my fic!: https://m.sg.weibo.com/user/2173912080/4472175635540915

And also this Karma owned by MLQC:

Link on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25654276

I sprinted into the LFG lobby, out of breath. I was late. Again. 

Cindy spotted me, and quickly gestured towards the stairs. “He’s been waiting for you, go on up.” I groaned, still out of breath, then crossed the lobby. Great, I thought as I ran up the stairs. Another lecture on punctuality, coming right up. I stopped before the office door, taking a moment to catch my breath before knocking.

“Come in,” came the clipped reply. Even better, it sounded like he was already in a bad mood. This should be fun. I entered, closing the door behind me. Victor was sitting at his desk, skimming something on his computer. He looked up, removing his glasses and placing them next to his desk calendar. “It is 2:33.”

I grimaced. “I’m sorry.”

His normal poker face had been replaced with a scowl. “What time did I say to be here?”

“2:30.” It didn’t matter how close we had become, some things never changed. When at work, Victor was always in prime CEO mode, any trace of my shy and sweet boyfriend disappearing the moment he walked in the office doors. 

“It seems your memory is indeed working today, despite all evidence to the contrary. So perhaps you like to explain why that was not the time you entered my office?” Being on the receiving end of a Victor-Li-is-irked glare was never a good experience, but unfortunately, that was often the position I found myself in.

“Our printer jammed at the last second, and wouldn’t print a contract that my 1:30 client needed to sign before they could leave, so I was stuck there calling maintenance and then waiting for them to show up, and then waiting for them to fix it, and then--”

“Stop. I’ve heard enough.” He rubbed his temples, eyes closed. “You do realize this is the modern era, yes? Contracts can be sent over email, and signed digitally. We will need to discuss your company’s disturbing lack of adaptation to current technology at another time; you have wasted enough of it already. Begin your report.” 

“Right.” I pulled out my newly purchased tablet and cleared my throat. “As you can see, we exceeded our predicted revenue this month. Views that we lost last week were not just recovered, but doubled.” I fidgeted a bit under his intense stare. 

“I implemented the ideas we discussed last week, and they were successful  For future consideration, I’d like to bring to your attention--”

The soft whirring of the air conditioning of the building sputtered to a startling halt. I paused, and looked at Victor for direction. He sighed, and picked up the phone on his desk when it began to ring. “Speak.” I heard a hurried voice on the other end, and watched Victor’s frown deepen. “What?” More frantic explanation from the voice, trying to appease him, and then Victor hung up. 

“Something wrong?” I asked, hoping that an urgent matter had come up, so that I could move my report to later when he would hopefully be in a better mood.

“The air conditioning stopped working. It will take a few hours to fix.” I groaned internally. It was the middle of July, peak season for hot days, and Victor’s office was directly in the sun’s path at the moment, the windows offering no protection from its heat. He shed his suit jacket, draping it over the arm of his chair. “Continue,” he commanded.

“Uh,” I scrambled to remember my place. “For future consideration, I’d like to bring to your attention trendlines predicting future revenue on episodes based on current events.” I began to sweat, already missing the almost too cold climate I had complained about in the past, and vowed to never do so again. 

“Our most popular episodes to date have been ones related to current issues in the news. Our recent collaboration with Loveland TV gave us access to topics and resources that we might not have had otherwise. Therefore, I propose that we begin a new series to be aired in conjunction with local news stations beyond just Loveland TV that would cover oddities addressed in daily reports.” 

Ok, the heat had officially become unbearable. I took off my white cardigan, putting in on top of my bag. Victor did a double-take, eyes widening. Uh oh. I forgot how casual my dress was. I tried to distract him with the report. “The series would cover not just super powers, but also delve into the psyche--”

“Stop, stop.” Crap. He was still staring at my dress. “What do you think you’re wearing?!”

“Uh, a sundress?” I responded dumbly. He glared at me. I fumbled for an excuse, though not knowing why I needed one exactly. “It’s the middle of July. I know it’s not formal business attire without the cardigan, but it’s hot in here without the AC. I thought you would understand that and be ok with me not wearing it considering the circumstances.”

He gaped, apparently shocked. “You thought wrong. Do you seriously not realize how alluring that dress is?”

Wait what? “Huh?”

He shook his head. “Dummy, you are astoundingly naive sometimes. Wearing that to any presentation, including this one, leads the audience to focus not on your proposal, but your physical assets.” I blushed, and covered myself a bit with my arms. He continued. “For example, I missed everything you presented after taking off your cardigan. Be thankful this was only a weekly report meeting, and not an official proposal for more funding with the entire board present.” He leaned forward and placed his elbows on the desk.

I looked down, ashamed. “I really am sorry, Victor. That would have embarrassed both Miracle Company and you; I understand now and I will do better in the future.”

“No, you misunderstand me.” He stood, and strode quickly towards me, crossing the room in a few broad steps. He grabbed my shoulders and forced me to look him in the eye. “The only person who should see you in outfits of this nature is me.” It was the hunger in his eyes that made me realize I was no longer talking to the CEO of LFG, but Victor Li, my protective and now aroused boyfriend.  

Desperate lips met mine, taking my breath away. I was always weak for his kisses, this time literally. My knees gave in a bit, and I held onto his arms as he pushed deeper. I eagerly reciprocated, a need for his touch growing rapidly under my navel. We broke apart for only a moment, before he claimed my lips again and ran strong fingers up my neck and into my hair, gently nudging my face closer to his. 

Victor was not a man of many flowery words, but he made up for it in his actions. Every kiss we shared was so fervent that you would think it was going to be our last. Even in moments of raw passion, it was obvious how deeply he cared for me, and I fell more in love with him each time our lips united. This kiss was no exception; I sank into his yearning for me, throwing my arms around his neck. 

Suddenly, strong arms wrapped around my thighs, and I felt myself being lifted into the air. I scrambled to wind my legs around his waist, holding him tighter. We were intimately closer than before, and I could feel his heart pounding in his chest. It amazed me that I could have such an effect on the seemingly stoic mogul, that I could be the one to break his cool. His lips captured mine once more, then he impatiently moved us towards his desk. 

“Hold tight,” he instructed, using one arm to awkwardly clear off the desktop, sending pens and his mouse flying. He set me atop it, beginning to suck at the pulse point above my collarbone, when reality hit me.

“Wait, stop,” I whispered harshly. He immediately backed away, arms to his side.

“What’s wrong?” Concern overtook ardor, and he scanned my figure. “Did I hurt you?” That thought seemed to shake him a bit.

“No, nothing like that,” I quickly reassured him. “But...should we really be doing this in your office? People might hear, or worse, what if someone came in?”

His confidence immediately returned, desire resuming its place in his eyes as I mentioned others overhearing our stolen moment of passion. He smirked, leaning in close.

“Let them hear.” He continued his attack on my neck, but I wouldn’t be swayed just yet.

“Victor,” I chided. “I’m not comfortable with someone catching us in your office. That wouldn’t look good for either of us.” He stopped, judging my sincerity, then walked away. 

“Wait, where are you going?” I asked, reaching out an arm towards him needily, missing his warmth already. Had I angered him?

“Relax, dummy.” He strode up to the door and turned the lock, its satisfying click signaling his intentions. He turned and smiled devilishly. “No one is going anywhere until we are finished.” 

He hastened back to me, as if I were his prey, strung up and waiting for him on a platter. He kissed me again, and loosened his tie to quell the sweltering heat. I grabbed for his shirt, undoing the first few buttons before he stopped me with a lick to a particularly sensitive area behind my earlobe. He undid his tie the rest of the way and set it down beside me on the desk. I finished unbuttoning his shirt, untucking it roughly. I gulped upon being met with the sight of his broad chest. As if controlled by some unknown force, my hands ran over his torso, brushing his collarbone and hips alike, searching for any point of contact with him. 

He placed feather light kisses all over my face and neck, brushing my cheek; my eyelids; the small v formed by my collarbones. As lovely as his display of affection was--and it truly was; not often did we get a chance to bask in the other’s devotion--it wasn’t quite enough. I needed more. 

I ran my hands down his abdomen, grabbing for his belt buckle, but he caught my hand in his and tsked. 

“Someone needs to learn to be patient.” His hands left me, and I let out a whine. He picked up the flimsy piece of fabric that lay beside me and wrapped it around my face, covering my eyes. 

“Is this okay?” I heard a soft whisper beside my left ear. 

His breath tickled me a bit, paused in anticipation of my answer. I hold absolute control over him at this moment, I realized with a small gasp. The power was a heady feeling; Loveland’s most eligible ‘bachelor’ was all mine, treating me as if I was some queen to be worshipped. Although he was leading most of the action, I held the ropes. And I would be ever so careful not to abuse this gift. What’s more, after years of having to take care of myself on my own, I now could trust him. Completely. 

“Yes.” 

That one word spurred him back into action. He quickly fastened the makeshift blindfold behind my head, careful to avoid knotting my hair with it. I heard a low groan, and then my skirt was pushed up, warm hands rubbing slow circles on my inner thighs. 

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he murmured, his lips brushing mine, sending shivers down my spine. "There is nothing I would not do to keep you safe and happy."

I bucked my hips towards his, searching for any friction to relieve my need. Suddenly, I felt a hand over my underwear, massaging my clit leisurely. I let out a breathy moan. Finally. His steady fingers ran back and forth across the fabric, gentle yet firm in their ministrations. "Faster, please Victor," I gasped, spreading my legs. He obeyed, for once, going faster and faster until all fear of others intruding disappeared. I could only think about him, his touch, and my palpable desire to become one with him. 

I could feel a flush rise in my cheeks, the sounds coming from my mouth garbled and brimming with pleasure. I reached blindly for him, needing to touch him for stability; so that I could hold off my climax a little longer, but was met only with air. I let out a whine. I heard a chuckle from somewhere in front of me. Seconds later, strong hands guided mine to his shoulders; his warm body moved closer, parting my legs further.

I was already beyond wet by this point, and I felt ready for him but knowing Victor, he wouldn't enter me until he was sure I was relaxed and ready for him. "Please, hurry up, I need you, now," I urged.

Surprisingly, he decided to grant my request. I heard the soft clink of a belt buckle being undone followed by a rustling of fabric. I hooked my ankles behind him, wanting, no, needing him in me as soon as humanly possible. A hand ran through my hair, and then my underwear was pushed to the side;  in one fluid motion he had both lifted me into the air and entered me with a soft moan. I gasped, throwing my head back and digging my fingers into the well-defined muscles of his shoulders.

The sensation of him inside me was more intense in the dark. I felt so safe, protected and satisfied in his arms. It was as if all my fears and worries had melted away. I knew that he would shield me from any incoming darkness that dared to threaten me. He pulled back for a moment, then slowly slid inside me once more, giving me time to adjust and savor the feeling of us, united as one. 

We maintained a comfortable rhythm, my hips grinding down to meet his as I panted against his neck. There was no need for words; anything that needed to be said was communicated through movement and small gasps and moans. I realized that I could no longer hear the ticking of the wall clock, its telling absence revealing that time was no longer in motion. 

I drew in a breath to mention it, but he suddenly changed to a different angle, shifting me in his arms, and sparks burst behind my eyelids. “Don’t you dare stop, right--right there!” I practically screamed. He hummed in confirmation, building speed. I let out a series of whines, bouncing down into his thrusts in desperation to add to the surging, rising tide of pleasure that's only just out of reach. I could hear Victor’s pleasure as well in the short, cut off breaths he let out. 

“Are you close,” he ground out, ever the gentleman in refusing to come before me. 

“Very,” I replied, concentrating on my climax, adding a finger to my clit. A few more strokes, and it hit me--hard. I screamed out his name and clenched around him. He gasped, and I felt a warmth inside me as he tightened his grip on me. The waves of pleasure taking hold of me ebbed slowly; suddenly, I could see again, tie dropping to the floor.  

Victor cradled me close and kissed the top of my head. We remained entangled in each other’s embrace for a few moments longer, catching our breath. He slid out of me, but didn’t let me go. I buried my face in his neck, flushing at the whispered “I love you” that came from beside my ear. 

Suddenly, the ticking resumed and the space that was only ours returned to being shared with the rest of the world. I was gently set down on the desk, and I grabbed a tissue to clean myself up. We began to redress and had almost finished when there was a knock at the door. 

“Sir, the mechanics from Four Seasons Heating and Air have arrived,” Goldman’s voice came from behind the solid wood. “Would you like to direct them or should I handle it?”

Victor gestured at my cardigan, “That goes on; tightly,” he said in a low voice, then he grabbed his suit jacket and approached the door. I buttoned it quickly, barely finishing in time before he swung the door open. 

There was an awkward silence as Goldman took in our appearance. He did a quick double take, then stammered an apology. “Sir, I--uh--”

 I flushed brightly; there was no way to conceal what we had been up to. Only Victor stood stoic as always, not caring about our disheveled state or the smudge of my lipstick on the corner of his mouth. “Mark me as booked for the next two hours,” he announced, glancing at his watch. “I expect the air conditioning to be up and running when I return.”

“Next two hours--but sir! You have the meeting with the investors from--” Goldman was cut off with a glare. Typical. I felt sorry for him. 

“Did I ask for any feedback? I said that I am booked for the next two hours. Make any schedule changes necessary in my absence.” He put an arm around my waist and led me out of the room in the direction of the elevator. 

“But sir!” Victor paid him no mind and as the door closed, he pulled me into another kiss. 

“How do you feel about lunch at Souvenir?” 

“Mm, sounds great!” I replied, smoothing down his slightly rumpled shirt. Oh! Pulling back with a smile, I suddenly laughed. “Victor!”

He frowned. “What.”

“You forgot your tie!”

#mlqc #mlqc victor #mlqc victor smut #mlqc writing #my writing #this took way too long

[alonelytinywriter]

Forced

Anonymous ~ do you write smut? because if you write smut you should write another villain!au w/ All Might x fem oc where he breaks into her house and fucks her in every hole available and doesn’t let her cum the whole time and cums in her so much her tummy expands and he fucks her right into her womb and it’s just lots of noncon and him making her do whatever he wants her to do. please don’t use my user name I don’t know how to make it not show it. Thxs you!!!!!

*Flames red, fans self, and cracks knuckles* You got it baby, and no problem, name removed! I hope you like it Darling. It’s my first real attempt at writing smut and hopefully it’s what you had in mind. You’re, uh, you are age appropriate for such requests, correct? *Harshly raises eyebrow in judgement* Also, I’m pretty sure that there’s an option around your username that asks if you want to be anonymous? I could be wrong? *Edit - So, it turns out that I didn’t have the Asks set up properly and you couldn’t ask anonymously, and I am so sorry!* 

Warnings: Mature 18+. Smut. Non-con. Shameless, indulgent, request inspired, filth. Real rapey folks. Anal play. Nipple play. Throat fuck. Vaginal Sex. Orgasm control/denial. Daddy kink (implications). Super unrealistic descriptions of how everything works out with the size difference. (Please never look at John. K. Peta in Google. Just. Just don’t.) A mess of curse words. Lots of cum/cum inflation. Cervix penetration. Kidnapping. Graphic descriptions of everything mentioned. It’s fuckin’ filthy y’all. Ye have been warned.

 Yandere! Villain! All Might / Original Female Character

Playlist - The HU (Mongolia) Radio ~ Pandora

Name: Kauri Zenigata ~ Birthday: July 7th ~ Age: 24 ~ Hair Color: Blonde ~ Eye Color: Blue ~ Gender: Female ~ Height: 5′1′’ ~ Quirk: Usagi ~ Occupation: Pole Dancer

Appearance: Kauri is a short girl of a relatively slender build compared to the other girls who work at the gentleman’s club, who has notably large rabbit-like feet as well as two large white ears on her head. Her appearance is rather rabbit-like in general: she has a very fluffy tail at the base of her spine, the tips of her fingers have soft pink pads rather than fingerprints, her eyes are large and coltish; she also demonstrates some rabbit-like mannerisms, like hopping instead of running in life or death situations and thumping her feet against the floor to alert others in her area to danger. Her hair is light blonde, and is very long, although the curls cause it to fall no further than her waist. ~ Most, if not all of Kauri’s clothes outside work come from the thrift markets around town, and she’s managed to collect a rather large closet filled with Mori Kai fashion - loosely fighting layers of garments such as floaty dresses and cardigans. Her clothes all come from natural fabrics and tend to be  hand-made or vintage accessories with nature themes.

Quirk: Usagi (Rabbit) ~ Kauri’s Quirk gives her both physical attributes and abilities of a rabbit. This gives her heightened leg strength, allowing her to jump and kick with extreme force. She also has excellent hearing thanks to her rabbit-like ears, and possess animal instincts that alert her to nearby danger.

Power - 4/5 ~ Speed - 5/6 (S) ~ Technique - 2/5 ~ Intelligence - 3/5 ~ Cooperativeness - 5/5

~ Forced ~

~ Kauri Zenigata arrives home after working an exhausting night and barely manages to wipe away the heavy stage makeup from her face and change from the barely there underwear she wears for her work into a pair of plain black panties and a tank-top of the same color. The moment her head hits the pillows her body melts into the mattress and everything goes dark behind her eyelids. She doesn’t feel like she’s been asleep long at all when she feels a heavy weight holding her down and she wakes up to find a looming shadow above her, a single hand pressed into her wrists while a second stroked and touched her body. He’s already talking when she wakes and when she listens to the words her blood runs cold.

 ~ “ -little angel. So perfect. Such a dirty little slut. You like it, huh? Dressing like a slut and dancing in front of all those men? You’ve been asking for someone to fuck you for a long time. Gonna wreak that pretty little pussy of yours, baby girl.” Even if his voice hadn’t been instantly recognizable the piercing blue eyes cutting through the darkness certainly were, and Kauri’s situation came to her in a rush.

 ~ She was no longer wearing the clothes she had fallen asleep in, she realized, and there was something hard and stiff rubbing against her stomach; after a fleeting moment of confusion, Kauri realized that it was his dick rubbing against her pussy while the tip leaked pre-slick above her navel. Long and thick and so hard she could feel every vein as they passed over her freshly waxed slit, his shaft was nearly as large as her forearm. “No! No, no, no -” Kauri begins to scream, and she suddenly regrets living in such a remote part of town. It had seemed so nice, not having any neighbors for three blocks in any direction, but now, with Japan’s Number One Villain forcing her back into the mattress, pressing his obvious erection against her, it suddenly seemed as if she might as well be on Jupiter. “No!”

 ~ The laugh that leaves All Smite is booming. “Come now, darling. You work at a gentleman’s night club. You can’t tell me that you haven’t expected this - haven’t expected what would happen to you if anyone ever thought to follow you home.” All Smite begins to laugh again when Kauri starts to cry, huge tears pooling against her lashes before falling into her pale hair. Words of denial and refusal continued to fall from her lips, but they were incoherent between the hiccuping sobs that escaped with every breath, her body nearly vibrating as All Smite leaned forward so that his teeth could scrap across the sensitive skin on her neck and chest.

 ~ Kauri’s voice rose to a wailing cry when he pulled her to the edge of the bed and bent her at the waist so that her hips were pulled up into the air. His mouth latched onto the smooth lips of her pussy and sucked - hard. His teeth followed after and Kauri’s voice continued to rise and fall as All Smite abused the soft slit before him. Drawing back, All Smite felt the girls legs shaking where they rested against his shoulders, her back pressed against his chest, and he smiled wolfishly. With one hand, he held her in the air by a single ankle, and with the other he spread her swollen, bruised, beautiful pussy lips wide, her slit bare before him; a second later his lips and teeth latch onto her clit, making Kauri’s legs to go stiff and her entire being to go hot - hot - her hips began to thrust against his tongue, a wave a pleasure rising up in a white hot pulsating tide that was seconds away from washing over her -

 ~ And then All Smite removed his mouth, stopping all stimulation and the moan of frustration that leaves Kauri’s mouth is absolutely filthy as her pussy clenches around nothing in a dry imitation of an orgasm. “Oh, no, baby. Good girls don’t cum without their Daddy’s permission. You’re so small, you know. Like fucking with a little girl.” All Smite let Kauri fall limply onto the bed, her head hanging from the edge. His fingers slipped into her mouth and he forced them in and out after commanding her to suck. Kauri, who very much so wished she was brave enough to bite the villains fingers as a way to show him that he didn’t own her, began to openly weep as All Smite continued to speak. “Oh baby girl, so fucking small. Like a little doll. Gonna fuck you up and take you home so I can do it all over again. Gonna ruin that pretty little pussy of yours, and fuck this cute little mouth-pussy until your lips are swollen and you can’t breath without my dick in your throat.”

 ~ All Smite removed his fingers from her mouth, wet and glistening with her saliva, and found her nipples, pinching hard enough that Kauri’s mouth opened into an immediate yelp of pain. The sound was cut short, however, when All Smite pressed his hips forward, burying the head of his dick into her mouth. “If you bite me, I’ll break your neck, little girl.” And Kauri believed him. It didn’t matter how fast she knew she could be - how strong - All Smite could break her in a second if he wanted. But he hadn’t. Not yet, at the very least if you didn’t count the bruises Kauri could feel forming on her wrists and neck.

~ “Mmmphh!!” Kauri’s hands flew to All Smite’s thighs, pushing away, trying desperately to breath past All Smite’s length when it hit the back of her throat and then continued. Thrashing, Kauri’s hips rolled across the bed despite All Smite’s hands on her lower back, and he groaned, “Ahhh, c’mon, don’t struggle. That’s it. Swallow baby.” All Smite pulled back when only half his dick was buried in her throat, his glacier blue eyes flashing for a moment before he smiled, teeth wicked sharp in the darkness of the room, and then he thrust forward, encasing the length of his dick to the base. With Kauri’s nose buried against the fine golden hair just above the base of his cock, he began to snap his hips forward, while one hand slid to focus on her abused slit while the other pinched and pulled her puffy nipples. His words began to assault her ears as he continued to fuck her throat, muttering vile, degrading things when her pussy began to produce slick. He gathered the wetness and began to pool it upward, rubbing against the small star bud so close to the entrance of her pussy. For a moment - only a moment - All Smite pulled back, his dick resting along the side of her face, and she wondered why until All Smite slipped two thick fingers into her ass, slamming them to the last knuckle with no warming before scissoring them inside her, stretching her open. “Didn’t want you to bite my dick off when I did that.” All Smite muttered against her back as she shrieked, before nipping at her bottom with his teeth, causing her to convulse.

 ~ All Smite began to against her wet heat once again, even as he thrust his fingers into her again and again, ignoring her pleas to stop. The pleasure was back, spreading through her pussy and making her clit feel as if it were on fire, the throbbing unbearable as she felt the pleasure spike as All Smite rubbed at the swollen button of flesh. The fingers in her ass were pumping into her vigorously, making her backside burn like ice as the pain mixed with the pleasure from her clit. The mixture was overwhelming and she began to whine low in her throat. She was close - so close - almost - All Smites fingers found her clit again, pinching this time, causing Kauri’s faint moans to change to a hoarse scream as the pleasure turned to pain and the orgasm was forced away once again. All Smite wasted no time in pressing his dick back into her mouth, thrusting forward hard and fast all at once, the whole length of him in her throat before she can take a breath.

 ~ I . . . c - can’t . . . breathe . . . Kauri’s eyes rolled upwards, vision blurring into a wall of golden light. The throbbing in her clit was beginning to rise once again as All Smite rolled the bud between his fingertips. “Oh, fuck, I’m cumming, baby girl. That’s it!” All Smite’s roar drowned out the sound of Kauri’s feeble cry around his cock when he abandoned her clit just as she retched the edge of yet another ruined orgasm and instead threaded his fingers through her hair, forcing the whole of his penis into her mouth and throat as thick ropes of cum erupted into her esophagus. His fingers massaged her scalp and ears as his hips continued to give sudden, jerky thrusts, holding her down with his length still buried in her throat. Kauri could see black spots beginning to dance before her eyes, could feel of him pulsing inside her neck, blocking her airway. Her head began to spin and her hands, which had been pressing against the villain’s hips, fell to the bed, fingers dangling limply towards the floor. “That’s a good girl. But what’s wrong, your heartbeat feels faint. Doesn’t it feel good baby girl?”

 ~ Kauri couldn’t be sure, but she thinks that she passed out with his shaft still forcing her throat to stretch, because the next thing she knows, she’s laying with her back against the bed instead of her stomach and All Smite is smiling down at her in a way that makes her stomach curdle. His fingers pinch and pull her nipples, massaging her generous breasts as he spoke softly to her, his voice nearly inaudible as he seems to speak with himself over her small body. His fingers soon moved from gently tugging and pulling at her rosy nipples to twisting them and pulling against them so the weight of her breast hug from their tips making Kauri cry out.

 ~ Something jingles loudly in All Smite’s hands, but before Kauri can give the sound a second thought something cold and heavy and tight wrapped around the base of each nipple and the pain that seemed to engulf her breasts made her scream high and loud, her voice breaking at the end as she scrambles to move away, to protect herself from more pain. Her leg jerks from his grasp and a moment later her foot - large, furry, and strong - hits his chest with enough force to make All Smite’s breath rush from his lungs. Glaring, All Smite easily slips a hand around a singe hips the moment she manages to move to her hands and knees, the weighted clamps attached to her nipples pulling against the sensitive flesh painfully, and he yanks her back in one fluid motion. Kauri screams again when her weight is forced onto her chest, rubbing and pressing against her nipples so that her screams continue as he easily forces her over his lap.

 ~ “Where do you think you’re going, baby girl?” All Smite’s voice cracks as he begins to fondle her ass, spanking her ever time she seems to become too comfortable with his touches. It was after his hands fell upon her ass in a quick succession of blows that Kauri lost count of when he slipped his fingers between the folds of her pussy to find it absolutely soaking wet. “Holy fuck, are you - are you liking this?” All Smite asks, mocking her with the tone of his voice and the fingers that skimmed the surface of her swollen clit, making her entire body tremble. The immediate, feeble ‘no’ that leaves Kauri’s mouth causes All Smite to smile, his hands already pulling her up so that she was sitting across his lap, the head of his dick resting against the bottom of her sternum while her hips strained to spread far enough to allow his thighs between her own.

 ~ When All Smite moves to position Kauri over the head of his shaft by lifting her as if she weighs no more than a kitten, the swollen tip leaking pre-slick across her already soaked entrance, her voice raises in level once more. Her voice raw and rasping, Kauri begin to struggle against him once more, shaking her head. “It won’t fit - too big - you can’t - no.” She knew that her words were disjointed, that they didn’t make sense, but as she felt the large head of All Smite’s shaft begin to force its way into her body, Kauri swore she could feel her pelvic bones creaking. It hurt, hurt, hurt, and All Smite wasn’t stopping, not when her nails scrapped across the skin of his chest and forearms, not when her back arched in an attempt to throw herself from his hold, not when she screamed so loudly her voice broke and suddenly became nothing more than a rasping squeak. He had only managed to force the head of his dick inside her entrance and already it felt as if he were splitting her in two. Her neck felt weak and Kauri couldn’t seem to hold her head up as All Smite rolled his hits into hers, chuckling when she stiffened and whimpered, eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks. 

 ~ “Still awake down there, baby girl?” All Smite chuckled, pulling back so that  the swell of the  tip of his shaft rested against her folds. Her hands were slack against his chest and it seemed as if her eyes might be rolled into the back of her head. “Hey, c’mon now, you’ll want to wake up for this next part. It should be . . . Plus Ultra.” All Smite laughed, the old saying from his high school days rolling from his tongue easily as his hands gripped her hips tightly then, giving her no room to move as he pressed his hips forward - and then he surged upward and Kauri wailed as his length sunk into her heat. 

~ “You’re breaking me! I”m breaking - you’re going to break me - I can’t!” All Smite laughed and told her what nonsense that was - “After all a woman’s pussy’s meant to have a baby and as flattering as that is, my dicks no where near the size of a baby.” - and then he was moving, the length of his dick showing through the bulge in her stomach each time he thrust. Kauri continued to wail, unable to help the sounds escaping her mouth as All Smite bounced her on his lap. With her back pressed against his chest it was easy to reach the swollen bud between her legs and he rubbed it aggressively as he began to bounce her, and her nails dug almost painfully into his wrist as her walls began to flutter around his shaft. He waited until the fluttering stuttered and her breath caught before he pulled his fingers away. The orgasm was further halted by his other hand pulling one of the clamps on her nipples sharply and suddenly so that it pulled from her skin with a loud snap. “I told you, only good girl get to cum and you’ve not proven that you’re a good girl yet, have you?”

 ~ She lost the second clamp when All Smite denied her yet again and her thoughts were beginning to go fuzzy around the edges. She didn’t scream when the nipple clamp was painfully pulled from her body, but she did begin to sob when All Smite pulled his dick from her pussy with an audible pop and a rush of fluid down her thighs. Her pussy clenched painfully at nothing and All Smite turned her so that he could watch as she trembled in his arms. “Fuck baby girl, gonna cum soon and fill that pretty pussy of yours with my cum.” 

 ~ Pulling her up he dropped her down again with no warning, and he groaned as he felt her battered cervix give beneath the pressure and the last few inches of his shaft slipped inside as he moved impossible deeper into her slit. “Wha - !? Uahhhh! No! Nooo!” Kauri wailed. All Smite’s hands wrapped around her waist and he smiled. “Do you feel that baby? Feel your womb getting pushed up? Your so stuffed with my cock that I can feel your ovaries.” Kauri’s face flushed violently and she shook her head when All Smite’s fingers danced across the skin of her belly. “No! Stop it! Don’t - you can’t do this! You can’t! You can’t!” All Smite laughed through each word by pulling back till only the tip of his shaft lay inside her before pushing forward with as much force as he possible could. His fingers found her clit again and he rubbed with a single minded intent and for a moment, a fleeting moment, Kauri thought he might finally allow her to tip over the edge but then he leaned down close to her ear, “Fuck, baby girl. Fuck, I’m . . . I’m gonna cum! I’m - I’m cumming!”, and he pulled his finger away and left her teetering at the edge once more, her voice a breathless whine as her body shook on his dick.

 ~ Kauri could feel the rush of liquid as it filled her, but she couldn’t bring herself to care as All Smite continued to swipe his fingertips against the swollen bud that was throbbing painfully between her legs. She was cramping, the pressure from the villain’s cum trapped within her pussy causing the swelling of her stomach to grow. The shape of All Smite’s dick became less pronounced and then disappeared all together while he continued to pump into her slit, each thrust filling her with more and more of his essence.  “Such a good girl.” All Smite crooned into her ear, his hand rubbing across her belly, which was swollen to the point she seemed nearly four months pregnant. “Such a good girl. If you keep being good I just might let you cum when we get home. I can’t wait to fuck you again. Such a good girl.”

#yandere #yandere thoughts #yandere all might #villain all might #bnha #yandere bnha #yandere my hero academia #all might #no beta ill die a (wo)man

[crybabysunflower]

The song which reminds me of a Mystic Messenger character

Introduction

I have chosen this song based on how I have perceived this certain character from the otome game. I have chosen this song because the lyrics reminded me of him every time I listened to the song.

The character I have chosen for my blog is Kim Yoosung and the song which reminds me of him is Zombie by the South Korean punk pop band Day6 from their 2020 album, The Book of Us: The Demon

Before I write this blog I would give a trigger warning because it may have mentions of having suicidal thoughts so please read at your own risk.

The Lyrics

"What kind of day was yesterday

Was there anything special

I'm trying to remember

But nothing comes to my mind"

The lyrics above represents hopelessness and pessimism, the lyrics describes how the singer can't recall anything remotely positive happened to him on the previous day, he has been so used to the misery he has been dealing with. This reminds me of how Rika's "death" had severely affected Yoosung's life to the point that his life had come to a standstill, after that incident he had been waking up to face the same monotonous, miserable days which repeats over and over. He did not experience anything positive enough to affect him since the loss of his beloved cousin.

"Today goes by the same

Am I the only one struggling

How do I get through this

Would things get better

If I cry my heart out"

The first line of the lyrics again brings back our focus to the monotonous nature of the singer's life, just like the singer Yoosung too leads a monotonous, colourless life. Just like the lyrics mentioned above, Yoosung feels that he is the only one who is still not over grieving over his cousin since the other RFA members in his perception are seemingly doing well and are succesful in their careers while he is stuck in the past and wasting away his life. He is desperate to get over the never ending pain he had been feeling since the tragic incident due to which he finds comfort in playing video games which helps him to drown his sorrows but unfortunately it turns into a serious addiction and it actually does more harm to him than doing good. The last two lines also depicts the singer's strong desire to get over the heartache and thus he wonders if crying out loud would make his agony subside. This reminds me of how just like the singer Yoosung too had desired to cry out his pain several times, but he knows that it is futile since the rest of his friends are eventually going to invalidate his feelings in some way or the other.

"Yeah we live a life

Just running in circles day and night

Yeah we live a life

Though I try to change something

I cant seem to do anything

And I have got nothing left with me"

As the lyrics mentioned above Yoosung lives a life where he is just running in circles, he wakes up, goes to school (and can't pay attention to his lessons), comes back home, plays video games for the entire remaining day, and the cycle repeats. However he tries his best to change his situation, he joins various clubs in his school, the stitching club, the barista club and many more but, he quickly ends up losing interest in them and quitting them since they barely help him to cope up with his crippling depression. Just like the lyrics mentioned above, he found nothing to permanently get rid of his heartache. The last line reminds me of the void his cousin and role model Rika had left. After Rika's absence, there was no one for him to look up to, there was no one whom he would love to impress by performing well and finally there was no one to give him the type of emotional closure which he desperately craves for.

"I feel like I became a Zombie

With an empty heart and empty head

A scarecrow without a brain inside

Since when did I end up like this oh why"

Zombie is a person's corpse which continues to haunt the earth even after the actual demise of the person. Just like a zombie, Yoosung had been dead inside. He isn't living up to his fullest like he used to under Rika's guidance before, he is just surviving for the sake of it. A scarecrow is a term which is also used for describing a person in ragged clothes. Usually a person in ragged clothes is either not able to take care of themself and/or is not bothered about taking care of themself. In Yoosung's case, its both. He plays video games most of the time barely letting himself get a wink of sleep, he also does not give himself proper meals on time and happens to survive on convenient store foods and this is all because of his crippling depression which makes him hardly care about his own well being. Since he had been dealing with depression for quite a while and it has been a pretty long time since Rika's "demise" he can't recall for how long he had been persistently melancholic.

"I became a Zombie

I walk on drifting aimlessly

Tomorrow will be no different

I live counting the time

Till I close my eyes"

Initially Yoosung aimed to be a vet due to Rika's influence for which he worked hard to earn the top position in his class during his highschool years and he even joined one of the reknowned universities in the country with full scholarship, until the sudden disappearance of his cousin from his life. After her absence he had lost all of his sense of direction and aim in his life, he was no longer motivated to do well enough to accomplish his dreams. He had stopped expecting anything different would happen to him on the next day and is waiting for everything to end. The last lines reminds me of him in the Another Story routes. There it was very obvious that he had extremely dark thoughts where he wished to put and end to his sufferings (and thats why Zen kept him under his watchful eye to prevent the younger man from doing anything dangerous).

"Yeah we live a life

Eyes wide open in the dark

This meaningless life

Though I want to just let go

Though I want to just dream on

There is nothing I can do anymore"

The line "eyes wide open in the dark" can be used in the situation both literally and metaphorically at the same time. In the literal sense it reminds me of Yoosung's messed up sleep schedule where he barely sleeps at night. In the metaphorical sense it depicts that he can't see anything ahead of himself, except darkness, his eyes are wide open to see any possible beam of hope which he could not find at that moment. His future plans are luxury for him. When he sees the other RFA members, such as Jumin, Jaehee and Zen who are successful he desires to become as succesful as them. But whenever he dreams, he has this persistent thought that he will never be as successful as them, no matter whatever he does. That tragic incident had not only left him with crippling depression but also had shattered his self esteem.

"Get it all out, wanna cry

Let go of everything

Can I cry

Give me back my tears, they have run dry"

The lines above again depicts the desparate need to get over the crippling depression which is consuming the singer like a black hole. From the previous descriptions here, it is clear that in a similar fashion, Yoosung too is desparate to get over his sufferings. This reminds me of that one time when he told that he wants to cry so hard that he would blank out. He had already cried several times while grieving over Rika, yet he isn't satisfied.

Miscellaneous

I had also made a fanart on Yoosung based on this song because I was heavily inspired by the illustrated music videos I have seen of this song

Conclusion

I had been planning to make a lyric blog which would be related to a Mystic Messenger character. I am sorry that this took a very long time to come out. The only alibi I have to justify why I took so much of time is that, I was extremely nervous about it, I wanted to write a very good blog but I was not feeling confident enough about my project and hence I was extremely nervous about writing this blog. I an very glad for having instagram user @emilytheredone help me write this blog, she helped me to ease my nervousness over writing this blog. I am very thankful to her. Therefore, please let me know if this blog has turned out to be good.

#yoosung kim #mystic messenger #jumin han #jaehee kang #mysme zen #hyun ryu #saeyoung choi #agent 707 #another story #mystic messenger yoosung #yoosung route #yoosungkimsfeelingsarejustified #zombie #day6 zombie #jaehyung park #young k #wonpil #sungjin #dowoon #the book of us : the demon #myday #kpop x anime #day6