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xpao-bearx · 1 year

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"Partners In Crime"

Officer Callahan x Bad Girl!Reader

SUMMARY: As the resident "bad girl" of Hawkins, you truly only want one thing: to get into the pants of the resident dorky and dedicated police officer, Phil Callahan (and hey, maybe steal his heart too!).

NOTES: I recently just finished Stranger Things and yeah, great show, but have you SEEN the men??? 👀 Anyhoe, being the ✨️whore✨️ that I am, it really comes as no surprise that I'm simping over all the hot dudes but one of the hotties I've become obsessed with is CRIMINALLY underrated 😭

And so, of course, I took this grave offense ✨️personally✨️ and wrote this lil piece! Though I can't really call it little because it is SHOCKINGLY long (for me) and I sacrificed hours upon hours of sleep 🥲 But hey, when Phil fucking Callahan (and his gorgeous actor John Reynolds) makes you horny and inspired, YOU👏SEIZE👏THE👏GODDAMN👏MOMENT👏

If it isn't already obvious, this fic contains 18+ SMUT AND MATURE CONTENT and it gets preeetty steamy if I do say so myself~ It's also set roughly around Season 2, and I say roughly cuz I suck at remembering plots and shit so I just went with the flow 😅 And as always, PLEASE don't be a silent reader! Likes, comments, and reblogs are VERY much encouraged and appreciated!! \(^o^)/

I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing this baby! This is my first ever humble contribution to the ST fandom and, who knows, MAYBE not my last ;)

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In the small town of Hawkins, you were popular as the "bad girl". You were loud, headstrong, and constantly got into trouble--completely unlike any of the "proper" ladies that talked shit behind your back. But the trouble you caused, despite the chaos it unfailingly left behind, was never anything actually hurtful. Hell, you were even caught a few times using your colourful language to make some middle school children cry when you saw them bullying some poor boys (one of them, you remember, being the Wheelers' son who always looked like trouble followed him himself).

A bad girl with a golden heart; a cheesy, living cliché. But that's what you were. You just wanted to have fun, to live in the moment. But in this bumfuck town where pretty much nothing happens before that Byers kid mysteriously disappeared then reappeared, how could anyone really blame you for trying to stir shit up simply for your own entertainment and for your damn sanity?

But some of the locals knew you on a personal level. Particularly, the Hawkins Police Department. Before you stumbled upon Hawkins a few years ago, you were a drifter; chasing after the high of wherever life would take you, free yet lost. Whether it was by chance or by fate, you only stopped at Hawkins to fuel up your motorcycle and have a quick bite at the local diner until suddenly--like something out of those fucking romcoms your mother used to watch--you met him.

Phil Callahan. He was only a rookie officer at the time, having not even grown out his beloved moustache yet. You noticed his police cruiser parked at the gas station with an evident bump on the front of the car. He was fuelling up, but his hand holding the pump was limp and he was as pale as a ghost; eyes comically wide behind his horn-rimmed glasses, brunette locks tousled and sticking out every which way after frantically running his free hand through it god knows how many times.

And staring at this clearly stressed, slightly pathetic man, all you could think was: HOT.

Before your brain could process what you were doing (though, let's be honest, you never really used your brain much in most of your life decisions), you found your feet walking away from your bike of their own accord and towards him.

Once you were by his side, it's only then that you realized just how tall he was. So much taller. He easily towered over you and it made your mind drift to other, much less innocent thoughts.

Namely him bending you over his car and fucking you within an inch of your sorry excuse of a life.

"Can I help you?" Your head snapped up from the stranger's voice, eyes meeting his narrowed ones. And--dammit!--he was much more unfairly handsome up close. His light brown eyes reflected almost green, raising a suspicious brow at you as his lips pressed into a tight line.

"Sorry, Officer--" Your gaze strayed to his shiny name tag, a grin tugging up the corners of your mouth. "--Callahan. I just couldn't help but notice you. You look like you just died inside, man."

His brows furrowed, glancing over his shoulder to the bump on his car before quickly darting back to you. "Thanks for your concern, ma'am, but I'm fine. Nothing a civilian should be worried about, anyway."

"If you don't mind--" You piped up once more as he set the pump away. "I think it's got something to do with that nasty bump ya got there, huh?"

"Uh, okay, actually I do mind." He sighed exasperatedly, no longer able to hide his growing aggravation. Today was just not his day, it seemed. "Ma'am, like I said, it is none of your concern." He put on his police hat, tipping it to you. "Good day."

As he turned away from you, you sidestepped him so that you were in front of him again. Your grin was much bigger this time, practically reaching your ears. "Uh-oh, are you in trouble, Mr. Policeman~?" You purred, one hand reaching out and playfully drumming your fingers along his chest. You intently studied him from head to toe, as if admiring an artistic masterpiece before biting your lip and giggling. "Lemme guess... You're a young, new police officer who doesn't know any better. You got so excited driving a police car for the first time that you drove it a bit too fast and crashed into a tree or some shit. Sound about right?"

His face flushed scarlet, and you weren't sure if it was from the shame of having his dumbass misdemeanor exposed or from your fingers making a shiver run down his spine--probably both.

"How do you--"

"This ain't exactly my first time having a lil run-in with the law, so I know how men like you work." You winked. "Hey, tell ya what, how 'bout I help you? You can tell your other piggy buddies that I'm some crazy bitch with anger issues you caught for speeding and in my oh so scary rage, I purposely crashed my motorbike to the front of your car just to fuck with you. You can even put cuffs on me~"

He blinked, utterly dumbstruck as he stared down at the total menace that was you (and the fact that a certain part of him reacted at you graciously allowing him to cuff you), feeling like forever until he finally found his voice that cracked slightly as he spoke. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Y/N L/N." You hummed, wrapping your arms around his neck as you leaned up on your tiptoes and dangled slightly off of him with the few inches left between the two of you. The sudden action caught him completely off guard, his hands dropping to your hips to support you and making him blush even redder. But you didn't care, smiling mischievously up at him. "Feel free to search me up in the system, Officer. I've got a permanent record, after all~"

And that's how you met Jim Hopper, Calvin Powell, and the rest of the Hawkins Police Department when Callahan brought you with him back to the station. They definitely didn't believe you guys, especially when you didn't have a single scratch on you that indicated you "crashed your bike to his vehicle" (Callahan cleaned up your choice of wording a bit). But it was amusing to see Callahan dragging you along in handcuffs, who appeared all too joyful with a shit-eating smile as if you just won the lottery. Meanwhile, Callahan's cheeks were flaming hot and his voice adopted to a nervous high pitch as he lied to everyone who were just barely containing their laughter.

It also wasn't long before you decided to settle into Hawkins in some shitty trailer park, but you couldn't really complain considering your drifting years weren't all sunshine and rainbows either.

Besides, Callahan made it all worth it.

It wasn't love at first sight, but there was absolutely attraction. Hell, you were practically (if not literally) throwing yourself at him during your first encounter, and after that it would be the same--if not more intense.

You were no stranger to trouble, but often times you would seek for trouble yourself on purpose just so you could wind up in the police station to bother--ahem, I mean, very persistently try to hang out with Callahan. Or you'd just go to the station despite having no business there, but Flo the secretary usually kicked you out before you had the chance to even lay eyes on the gorgeous four eyes.

Today, however, Flo wasn't there. You didn't believe in some higher power, but it was a fucking miracle that you were grateful for and didn't dare to question. And so you more than happily made yourself at home in the station, sitting down at Callahan's desk as you curiously pried into his stuff before a deep laugh from behind you broke you out of your little reverie.

"This is just ridiculous now, Y/N." Hopper shot you an incredulous though very much amused expression. "If you like Callahan so much--which I have no fucking idea why--then just ask him out on a date already."

It was no secret that Hopper can be a total grump, but oddly enough you became fast friends with him. He never gave you a hard time and you never bullshitted him, which in turn formed a weird sort of respect between the two of you.

You rolled your eyes at the huge man, turning back to Callahan's desk and inspecting his assortment of pens--which you thought was way too much and he probably doesn't even use all of them, but that only amped up his dorkish charm to you by, like, a thousand.

"You're one to talk, Hop." You scoffed, snatching a pen and beginning to click it continuously. "I bet your hand's tired from jerking off to Joyce Byers."

Hopper scowled, but a faint rosiness dusted his cheeks. "Okay, first off--" Click. "I do not jerk off to Joyce--" Click. "and unlike you--" Click. "I actually have the balls to ask her out--" Click. "she just hasn't--" Click. "WILL YOU STOP FUCKING CLICKING THAT GODDAMN PEN?!"

You didn't even flinch, casually stashing the pen away in your pocket before you stood and faced him. "Enough about you." You huffed, crossing your arms as your eyes levelled with his. Hopper may as well be a living brick wall walking around ready to punch whoever crossed him, but you were never intimidated by the chief of police whom you've admittedly grown a soft spot for. "Callahan on for patrol duty tonight?"

"Yeah, and you owe me big time." He frowned when you blatantly ignored him, but what was new? "I need as much manpower as I can get to investigate what the hell's going on with the pumpkin patches yet here I am, like a fucking idiot, helping to set you and Callahan up."

"You looove me~" You teased, patting his shoulder and granting him a Cheshire Cat-like grin. "This is all for a good cause, big guy. And just think, the sooner Callahan and I get together, the faster I'll be outta your hair!" You chuckled. "And hey, you're thinking too much into those pumpkin patches. Probably just some pumpkin farmers having a pumpkin war. Go big or gourd home, am I right?"

Hopper watched as you laughed obnoxiously loud at your stupid pun, looking so proud of yourself as little snorts wracked your smaller frame and your shoulders shook from sheer glee. He shook his head, sighing heavily to himself.

"God, I actually feel kinda bad for Callahan..."

•••♡•••

Night couldn't fall any quicker, but once it finally did your entire body was practically bursting with excitement like a child who's about to go out for trick or treating.

You hopped onto your bike, revving up the engine and driving even more maniacally than your Munson neighbour did out of the trailer park. You didn't even keep track anymore of how fast you were going, your hair flying as you raced down the road and were greeted by Halloween decorations strewn about in various houses' lawns.

A few minutes later, you found yourself on the empty road leading out of Hawkins. And just as you predicted--had hoped--the shrill blare of a siren sliced through the air and the all too familiar red and blue lights nearly blinded your vision as a police cruiser followed close on your tail.

You couldn't suppress the giddy grin that tore across your face, slowing down by the side of the road and the car pulling up next to you.

The butterflies in your stomach were doing fucking somersaults now as you heard the car door open and shut close, boots thudding on the ground as your favourite officer approached.

"Well, well, well... Lookie who we have here~?" The singsong voice made your grin widen even more if it was possible, making your cheeks hurt. The beam from a flashlight hit your eyes, and once your sight adjusted there was none other than Callahan, staring down at you with his pretty brown eyes. "If it isn't Lil Miss Trouble."

"Cally!" You giggled like some lovesick schoolgirl, and if we were being honest, you pretty much acted like you are. "Fancy seeing you here~ Halloween ain't 'til tomorrow, so why are ya out on patrol?"

"Beats me." He shrugged. "The chief suddenly put me on duty. Also, you know how much I hate that nickname." He grimaced, turning the flashlight off. It was quite dark, but you could still see him well enough due to a lone street lamp a couple feet away. "Get off."

His sudden commanding tone sent a shiver down your spine, a certain part of you getting wet. And it didn't help that you decided to forgo panties, your slick coating the seat of your bike. You then jumped off, your breasts bouncing slightly. This action didn't go unnoticed by him, his eyes dropping to your chest and trailing down your figure until his gaze landed on your skirt--if it could even be called that.

You were wearing a leather mini skirt that left little to the imagination, hugging your curves just right and showing off your thighs. He thought that if you made one wrong move, you'd flash him your panties; of course, not knowing you weren't even wearing any.

"Did I ever tell you how much I love your moustache?" You purred, heart leaping when he went speechless and his mouth hung agape.

His eyes flicked back up to meet yours, snapping out of his trance. "Only the first hundred times." He then cleared his throat, pointing an accusatory finger at you with a hand placed on his hip like a parent scolding their child. "Flattery won't work on me, Y/N. Do you know how fast you were going? And why weren't you wearing a helmet?"

"I know I was going pretty fucking fast!" You guffawed. "As for not wearing a helmet, well, what can I say? I don't like feeling restricted. I like being free. If I could, I'd totally go naked."

You saw his Adam's apple bob as he gulped at your emphasis of "naked", a death grip on his flashlight as his jaw squared. "That's public indecency." He stated simply. He was getting better dealing with you, but the ever so slight crack in his voice was a telltale sign that you still very much had an intoxicating, beguiling effect on him. "And where the hell were you going? Were you...leaving Hawkins?"

You didn't miss the plaintive way he had asked the question, your heart melting. He cared for you. No matter how much trouble you caused everyone, caused him... He would still check up on you, and you even caught him several times keeping watch outside of your trailer when Will Byers went missing a year ago. He claimed that the police were patrolling every nook and cranny after the kid's disappearance, but you never saw Hopper or anyone else guarding other people's homes like how Callahan did yours.

"I'm not leaving, Phil." You breathed out, nothing more than a whisper as you looked up at him; serious, for once. Because as boring as this town was, you've grown fond of it. And Callahan played a big part in that and even if you weren't together, he was the closest to home that you've ever felt in a long fucking time.

He searched your face for any lies, brown eyes soft before a genuine smile graced his features. "You better not, Lil Miss Trouble." A beat passed between the two of you, breaths mingling together and you only just realized how close you both were standing to each other. He had you caged against your bike, and you had to strain your neck just to be eye level with the tall man.

Then something in his expression shifted, and soon he was drawing away from you. "W-Well, I'm gonna let you off with a warning. Just this once, though! Think of it as thanks for that time--" You cut off his rambling when you reached out, grabbing his hand.

"I didn't leave." You declared, an almost pleading tone in your voice. "So don't leave either, Phil."

For what felt like a dreadful eternity, you were swallowed by a deafening silence. You, who was usually so confident, found your will breaking with each passing second. Your grasp softened until you let go, feeling your heart sink to your stomach.

"...Forget it. Thanks, Cal--" But you couldn't finish; because in a blink of an eye, his lips were on yours. It was brief, feather light. But the chaste peck made your heart explode, and you didn't even question if this was just one of your silly fantasies. It felt too real--too good.

He slowly pulled away, resting his forehead against yours and his warm breath tickling your nose. "I'm not leaving." He murmured, such beautiful, sincere greenish brown eyes locking with yours. "I'm not leaving you, Y/N."

You felt tears prickle your eyes, but before you would ever allow them to fall you wrapped your arms around his neck and nuzzled your nose with his. "Then prove it." And you crashed your lips with his, this time fiercely, passionately. You felt the rough brush of his moustache, but that only made everything feel astoundingly better.

He finally closed the gap between you two, looming over you, the flashlight clattering to the ground as his much larger hands clutched on to your hips before he easily lifted you and plopped you down on your bike's seat. You wrapped your legs around his waist, nipping on his bottom lip that elicited a gasp from him which you gladly took as the opportunity to slide your tongue inside his mouth. His tongue tangled with yours and coaxed it into a sensual dance, earning him a most heavenly moan from you.

You two only pulled away for breath, a thin string of saliva connecting your tongues. But his glasses were foggy and tinkly laughter bubbled out of you, feeling like a druggie high off of life--high off of him.

He chuckled, taking his glasses off to wipe them before putting them back on. "Sorry." He smiled sheepishly. "That ruined the moment, didn't it?"

"On the contrary..." You were still laughing, but you held one of his hands still on your hip and guided it lower, lower, lower...until his palm was right on your bare pussy. "You always turn me on, Cal. It's pretty fucking ridiculous, honestly."

His breath hitched sharply when he felt how drenched you were, his pupils dilating and mouth forming an 'O' at the realization that you've been half naked this whole time. He pressed his palm closer to your core, your laughter instantly dying down as his thumb slowly rubbed circles around your clit. One of your hands flew to his hair, something you've always dreamt of doing ever since you saw the incredibly sexy messy state it was in the day you met him. Your other hand clung onto his shirt for dear life, a gasp escaping you as he pinched your nub and began to stroke his fingers along your slit.

He leaned down to your ear, his fingers gradually increasing their pace and you trembled from the pure ecstasy that overcame your senses just from his deft fingers. "You really are a little troublemaker, huh?" He chuckled, voice dropping an octave lower. "You planned this all along, didn't you? Fucking slut..." His lips dragged down your ear to the crook of your neck, biting down and leaving a mark that had you crying out. "My beautiful fucking slut."

"All yours, Officer~" You mewled, your hand latched onto his shirt making its descent to his crotch. You palmed him, feeling his prominent erection aching to spring free as he groaned. "Just be mine, too." You peered down at him, eyes hazy with desire and desperation. "Pretty please?"

"I think I've been yours ever since we met. Not like I had a choice on the matter, anyway." He snickered before capturing your lips once more in a sultry, intimate kiss. Your mouth moved in perfect tandem with his, but you both took your sweet time as everything else faded away. There was only you and Callahan, Callahan and you. And it's all you ever fucking wanted; all you needed.

Not breaking the kiss, you shucked your leather jacket off and carelessly tossed it to the ground. Your hands came up to cup the sides of his face, fingers caressing him tenderly while his hands crawled beneath your white tank top; imagine his pleasant surprise to discover that you didn't wear a bra either.

"Jesus..." He muttered, yanking your tank top up before kneading and squeezing your perfect breasts as his lascivious gaze met your own. "You're gonna kill a fucking cop here." He grunted, making you giggle which immediately turned into an elated whimper as he tweaked your pert nipples.

"Get down. Turn around. Ass up." He ordered, and you didn't at all hesitate to obey. In your haste, you nearly tumbled off of your bike though Callahan steadied you. "Eager, are we, Y/N?" He chuckled, but something about the way your name smoothly, seductively rolled off his tongue had you wanting to fall down on your knees and reverently suck him off instead. But you didn't dare disobey, spinning around with your back to him and bending over your bike.

Though something dropped to the ground as you bent over, making Callahan arch a brow as he picked it up.

"My pen?" He scoffed, and though you can't see him, you can feel his disapproving stare boring into the back of your head like daggers. "Naughty girl, now you're stealing? Tsk, tsk." He flipped up your skirt, your ass now in full view as he licked his lips. His hands groped the pillowy soft flesh, releasing a low whistle of appreciation as he squeezed before suddenly raising his hand and spanking you.

"Ah..!" You exclaimed, looking over your shoulder with glazed eyes and flushed cheeks. "M'sorry, Officer~"

Smack! Another slap had you reeling in the best way possible, your pussy clenching at--unfortunately--nothing as you whimpered.

"Uh-uh. Didn't say you could look at me, did I, naughty girl?" He chided, seeing that you were wiggling your ass and trying to inch closer to him.

Smack! Smack! Smack! Three slaps, one right after the other. Your flesh glowed red with his handprint, making him smirk devilishly.

"M'sorry..." You said again, your voice coming out as a meek squeak. But more. You wanted more, more, more. "I'm a good girl, I promise!"

"I'm sure you are~" He hummed leisurely. "Just gotta prove it to me, right, baby?"

Before you had any chance to reply, he prodded your legs apart with his knee and his pants unzipping sounded like the most divine music to your ears. Both of your breaths got caught in your throats as the tip of his cock pressed against your pussy, stroking up and down your entrance slowly, teasingly. Your lustful impatience getting the best of you because, fuck, you deserved this, you were just about to slide down onto him when he suddenly pushed his entire cock in with no warning.

And fuck he was big. Much bigger than you ever fantasized, completely stretching you out as a long moan was drawn out of you and your upper body fell like a ragdoll on your bike. You vaguely heard him laughing huskily before he started to move; carefully, as if he was afraid you might break.

But with you? That didn't last very long, any pathetic thread of patience he had snapping as soon his thrusts started to become rapid, hard, wild--hitting that amazing spot deep inside your gummy walls over and over again, the lewd squelches of his cock slipping in and out of your pussy perfectly harmonizing with skin slapping against skin.

"Fuck, fuck, fuuuck..!" You screamed, toes curling and grinding your ass in time with his thrusts as he watched, utterly transfixed, with how you seemed to just fit him like a puzzle piece; the fucking addicting way you slammed back down onto him, your skin rolling with each bounce, your pussy clenching his cock like a goddamn vice and effortlessly accepting all of him.

He then wrapped a hand around your neck, squeezing just enough to have your eyes rolling to the back of your head before pulling you up so that you were standing and your back was pressed against his chest. He nuzzled his face just beneath your ear, hot pants grazing your skin as he never seized his pleasurable assault to your cunt as he continued to pound relentlessly into you like a beast in heat.

Suddenly, he pressed his pen to your clit. Your eyes widened as you felt the long, thin object rubbing against your sensitive mound, stroking and poking at your folds as his cock drove in and out, in and out.

"Gonna cum for me, pretty girl?" He whispered, planting butterfly kisses along the delicate column between your neck and shoulder, his grip on your neck tightening ever so slightly as he humped against you.

"Y-Yes, fuck, yes Officer..!" You choked out, rocking your hips desperately as you could almost see stars.

"Then cum, Y/N."

And you did; your walls fluttered and clamped down on his dick, your body stilling and eyes crossing as waves of the highest rapture coursed throughout your body. Callahan soon followed, a nearly animalistic groan accompanying the spurts of cum that gushed into your deepest, most intimate part as his hips stuttered to a halt.

You basked in silence, revelling in the satisfying afterglow. Then, agonizingly slowly, his twitching cock slid out of you, making you convulse and you could feel the hot cum trickling down your legs. He spun you around and gently grabbed your chin, tipping it up and examining your completely fucked out expression. You stuck your tongue out, and he didn't waste a precious moment as he leaned down and entwined your tongue with his. He held you closely, securely; hugging you to his broad chest as he stepped backwards until his back bumped into his car to support the both of you.

You were the first to pull away from the sloppy liplock, laying your head on his chest and sighing deeply. "That was..." You looked up at him, blinking dazedly. "...not what I expected."

"Did you not have fun?" He chuckled, though there was a hint of worry in his voice as his thumb lazily caressed your swollen bottom lip, kind brown eyes seeking yours. Shit, did he overdo it? Or worse... Did you realize that you actually weren't that into him?

"I did, it's just..." You trailed off before a giggle erupted out of you, shaking your head. "Y'know, the first time we met, I actually thought of you bending me over your car and fucking me. I never imagined I'd be bent over my bike."

"For fuck's sake, Y/N, you really are gonna be the death of me!" He whined dramatically, making you laugh and soon he joined you.

"So..." You grinned, fixing his glasses that had fallen to the bridge of his nose and running a hand through his sweaty, unruly curls that you loved too fucking much. "Was I a good girl, Cally~?"

"The fucking best." He returned your euphoric grin, booping your nose and, though he'd never admit it, he actually liked your nickname. Just for him, only by you. "Buuut you're a good girl that's coming back to the station with me."

"Huh? But I thought you're gonna let me off the hook for speeding?" You questioned, confused.

"I am, but you're forgetting your other crimes." He cleared his throat, rising to his full height and looming over you yet again. "Public indecency..." He traced his pen on your pussy, making you shudder as the cold metal glided across your skin up to the valley between your breasts. "...and theft."

"Well, Officer, if that's the case then you're not innocent either~" You smirked, wrapping your arms around his neck and dangling off of him much like you did the first time. "You stole my heart, after all~"

His face was as red as a tomato, smiling like a doofus as he hooked his hands under your plush thighs, hoisting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist. Taking you by surprise, but definitely not unwelcomed as he stared up at you with a stupidly smitten expression.

"We're partners in crime, then, Lil Miss Trouble~"

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basedkikuenjoyer · 5 months

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I hit 100 followers a while ago. It's not the biggest thing ever I know, but I also didn't really expect anything like that when I started this silly little blog about a mysterious lady and her goofy samurai gang. For 50 we did 27 favorites. People seemed to like it. Main cast taking up a bunch of spots is boring, though I do think a few of these could potentially end up in the main one. For now though that's Nami, Brook, & Jinbei. This time is more measured, I actually thought about a Sweet 16 and why. It's fun to see how it changes over time:

Cabbage: I love pretty idiots in anime. This one was necessary to keep me invested in Dressrosa. But there is a real amount of nobility there and the story of actually being a fallen prince obsessed with stardom is a good one! Most little guy Leo is surging but Cavendish is still my favorite of the Grand Fleet captains.

Queen Otohime: I've already said a lot about her with our Seafloor Sidestory. Such a great examination of a political leader, a civil rights icon. I've flirted with that role myself at times and always been around it as a quirk of fate...so it's cool to see someone who gets the nuances like Oda did with this story. How it plays off of Tiger's, influences someone like Jinbei. I rate Fishman Island very high and Otohime is a huge part of that.

Pudding: Pudding is such a two-faced little snot but young enough and cartoonish enough about it I think she's funny. Whole Cake is a great arc, love how she plays off of Sanji, the "Doll" element hits a little close to home.

Crocodile: He's got style, he's got grace. He'll throw sand in your face. Cool villain, loved him in Impel Down/Marineford, epitome of T-Boy swag.

Miss Goldenweek: Marianne, Goldie...such a treasure. Girl makes me laugh so much. Comically lazy but the secret weapon that was a nightmare for Luffy. Cover story that made her shine as a capable operative and Rainbow of Dreams rocks. Please come back to Cross Guild you little weirdo. I need you and Buggy playing off each other, I need Crocodile hyping up one of his superstar agents to Mihawk only for her to doze off/ask for snacks in the middle of it.

Nekomamushi: He is a massive yellow cat man. This is a great start. Had a nice theme song too. He loves lasagna but isn't an asshole like Garfield. Rising love. Samurai cat man. Then he's Kiku's lil bro and I enjoy pondering that dynamic. Goro nya nya.

Kin'emon: He was pretty funny before, making the chauvinist a simp for his classy af wife and the confused, but caring father figure to a sweetheart trans girl is hilarious. I love his devil fruit and impersonating Doffy was classic. His supernatural luck forced his way deeply into my heart.

Conis: Conis is lovely. Sweet angel girl...with a big ol bazooka she is not afraid to use. People forget Conis but I still love her. Sky Island was fun.

Jewelry Bonney: Being an angry child makes her so much more fun. Always thought she was a solid Supernova. Being such a glutton is funny. Egghead has elevated her. Interesting devil fruit, it's the one my sweetie would want to eat himself which is neat.

Izo: Izo is very, very pretty. He is also good at shooty but have you seen how pretty he is? He is also the dashing elder brother of #1 blorbo...

Kiku: I know this inclusion will surprise some of you. She's a total sweetie with hidden narrative weirdness. What's not to love and obsess over? Plus she's really tall and forgets that when hiding behind things. Imagine if we saw her trying to hide behind Chopper sticking most of his body out from behind a hiding place. That would tick us back at least one minute from midnight.

Cindry: The other Okiku and subject of our Spooky Sidestory. Maliciously compliant zombie with a showgirl vibe. Far out. Hucking plates rules as a combat style.

Ginny: Some might say she's too new. Some Might Say is a pretty good early Oasis song. Neither of those are relevant right now. I love Ginny. She's wonderful. She got done dirty because flashback characters always get done dirty.

Hina: Hina pleased to be included. Hina pleased. She was our Shackled Sidestory and I love her. The cool vibe mixed with a couple of childish traits. One of our truly good Marines who probably hasn't gotten high enough up the ladder to really know how depraved the World Government is. Cool fruit too, perfect for a Marine.

Monet: Punk Hazard came out right before I went into grad school. I love thinking of her as the beleaguered, far more talented assistant to Caesar Clown who I hate and should just die. Harpies are also classic cool and I will not accept statements to the contrary. I love her snow power too.

Gecko Moria: Touched on this in a post about him for Halloween. He's grown on me a lot as a villain as I've gotten old enough to understand him. There's a realism in his motivations that makes him more of a unique villain. I actually believe if he was serious from the start Luffy would never have stood a chance. Shadow fruit is cool and Thriller Bark is an excellent arc.

Bellemere, Kawamatsu, Denjiro, and Hancock would be the honorable mentions. But these are my true One Piece loves.

#one piece #100 sub spectacular

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theintrovertbean · 2 years

Text

The Arcana Main Six + MC as The Phantom of The Opera Characters

It's Masquerade time, bitches.

I must admit, I have an unhealthy obsession with The Phantom of The Opera. And therefore, it was only a matter of time before I came up with this idea. The 2004 movie is like one of the best things I've ever watched in my entire life (but I also like the theater plays), and Gerard Butler is incredibly hot (have you seen those thighs?). This was the straightest thing I've ever said.

If you haven't watched the movie, then this is your sign to do it.

As I stated in my previous post, there's something going on with my left eye, and I'm in pain whenever I look at the screen. Right now, I'm feeling better, so I wrote this real quick. With this eye issue going on, it takes me longer to write the requests that you all have sent me, but I'm working on them. My requests are still open if anyone has ideas, but yeah, I'm taking my sweet time.

I would also like to thank everyone for their support and for all the requests you've sent me. It feels incredible and very motivating.

I'm not sure if anyone in the Arcana fandom is interested in POTO, but I had fun writing this, so it was worth it.

With that being said, we shall now progress to the good stuff before my cat sits on me and prevents me from moving.

And don't take this seriously. It's all just silly fun.

MC - Christine Daaé

Come on; it's the obvious choice.

Everyone wants to date MC, and MC loves everyone. Christine loves everyone regardless of their flaws, even the Phantom.

A bit of a dumbass, tbh.

Could probably solve world hunger with a kiss.

Asra - Viscount Raoul de Chagny

Raoul would die for Christine (and he almost did), and Asra gave half his heart for MC. See the connection?

Pretty boys.

Has a few flaws, but is the obvious choice™

Raoul was Christine's childhood sweetheart and love interest. Reminds me of Asra and MC's relationship.

First love™

Brings stuff for their s/o.

Everyone thinks they slept with the protagonist.

Julian - Ubaldo Piangi

Clumsy drama boys.

Gets hanged but also pegged.

Do they like to sing? Hell yes. Should they sing? Hell no.

I'm sorry, I don't have much else to say.

Nadia - Carlotta Gudicelli

Mommy. Fancy ma'am.

Is this even a question?

Actually, it is. I was torn between Christine, Madame Giry, and Carlotta, but I decided on the latter.

Carlotta played the role of Countess in Il Muto, so it has to be.

Also, Carlotta is a fucking leading lady and Prima Donna, and so is Nadia.

They both pegged their husbands, and they know their worth.

Husband is dead™

Professional girlbosses.

Amazing taste in clothes.

Tired of everyone's bullshit.

Also, the actress who plays Carlotta in the 2004 movie (Minnie Driver) is the same height as Nadia. Tall women 😍

I am a slut for them, and I want them both to step on me.

Prima donna, first lady of the stage! Your devotees are MC is on their knees to implore you! 🎶🎵

Portia - Meg Giry

Lil girlboss™

They both look cute and innocent but would slap a bitch without hesitation.

Bestie™

Curious and sweet.

Gives warm hugs.

Underrated.

Secret passage girls.

Muriel - Madame Giry

Mysterious.

Protective.

Sweethearts who take care of others.

Madame Giry worked for the Phantom, and Muriel worked for Lucio.

They run away when people try to talk to them.

They both look depressed until we see them in their Masquerade outfits.

Lucio - Erik/The Phantom

Sexy drama boys with many issues.

They are tragic, they are violent, and they are ridiculously handsome.

Thighs. Look at their fucking thighs.

Raoul hates Erik. Asra hates Lucio.

They are supposed to be the antagonists, but for some very understandable reason, a lot of people simp for them.

Dramatic cape swinging.

Rose lover plague boys.

The Phantom troubles Carlotta, and Lucio does the same with Nadia.

They both show up at the Masquerade. Suddenly and uninvited.

Everyone in the movie/game hates them.

But mama I'm in love with a criminal.

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alovesongshewrote · 2 years

Note

Hello, I don't know if you're still taking requests. But could you make headcannons for Lady D and the lords with an s/o who loves to pepper them in kisses, and shower them in praises please?

Mwah | The Four Lords HCs

of course!! sorry for the delay btw

Taglist: @prismarts @blixeon @mxcheese @valentimmy @chrysanthykios

Headcanons

LADY DIMITRESCU

Oh my god, she’s so into it

You’ll be with her, and you’ll just

Pepper her hand with kisses, because she’s fucking tall

And she’ll blush

But you can’t really tell

And she loves it

She blushes even harder when you kiss her face, she just won’t acknowledge it

She also loves the praise

She already knows she’s the best

But it’s nice to hear you say it

Some days, it’s just the affirmation she needs

She also returns the favor, like

She’ll see you doing something

Call your name, so you turn to face her

Lean down

And then she just

Smooches the shit out of you

She kisses your hands, too

She’ll kiss any part of you that she can reach

She also praises you very often

It is delightful

DONNA BENEVIENTO

You have to be really close to her for her to allow casual kissing

The praise, however

She doesn’t mind as much

She actually enjoys it a lot, though she never tells you

At least verbally

She will show her appreciation in other ways

Which, hey, once you get close enough

Might be through her peppering your face with kisses!

Who knows!

I would also like to point out that angie gets hella jealous

So tell her she’s a good doll

Also, maybe give her head a lil kiss

It’ll earn you points on her end

SALVATORE MOREAU

Boy oh fuckin boy, if you thought alcina and donna were down for kisses and praise, well

They are literally nothing compared to moreau

Because holy fuckin shit

If there is one thing this man is missing in his life

It’s LOVE AND AFFECTION

So the second you show it to him he just kind of

Clings

And who can blame him, i mean

Just look at his mother

She wasn’t exactly the hugs and comforting words type

And neither were any of his siblings

And his experiments were more likely to bite him than hug him

So when you kiss him or praise him the first time

Well

He might actually cry, i don’t know

He’s always quick to thank you, too

It’s very sweet

KARL HEISENBERG

Where his siblings love it

Heisenberg is

Confused

He isn’t used to praise or affection

At least not the kind you have to offer

So the first time you kiss or praise him he just kinda

Freezes

And then he might push you away

But he might be too busy being frozen, so

That’s fun

Once he realizes that you’re sincerely complimenting him

And sincerely showing affection

He warms to it pretty quickly

He’ll tease you about it, of course

He’ll basically call you a simp but with different words

But however much he teases you, he enjoys your praises quite a bit

And he lets you know it, too

#x reader #re8 x reader #alcina dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #karl heisenberg x reader #donna beneviento x reader #salvatore moreau x reader

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millenialfanfictionaddiction · 2 years

Note

Thanks for letting me rant, Ma, and thank you for sharing your experience with you kiddo too. I really appreciate it :)

NOW! This is a lot of typing to make a simple point but I don't care.

Idk if I could call this my favorite episode, per se (idk if I'd be able to actually choose), but I'd say the episode I appreciate the most is also S3 E3, Guess Monster (twins, Tendou Anon!) And I will explain in great detail exactly why.

I've mentioned before that my four favorite/'I simp for' boys are Noya, Bokuto, Tendou, and Atsumu, and for for each of them was a different situation.

With Yuu, it was a pretty fast fall. He came in at the end of that one epi, made that awesome receive, and his introduction was just great. It was an instant "o,..,o yo, he's awesome, and he's spunky, and adorable!"

With Kou, I had heard a little bit about him before I started watching, and knew he was popular, so I had kinda decided "meh, we don't need to fall for the really popular guy, I'll prolly pass". We'll turn out he's popular for a reason because he's fuckin wonderful! XD I didn't fall as fast as I did with Yuu, but it was pretty quick. He's so dorky, such a goofball, and I love him very much.

Skipping Satori to Atsumu, this man was a struggle! I hated him at first! I was mad that he traumatized Kageyama, and he was just a general dick. Then, reading fics is actually what started to turn things around for ne. Fanon Tsumu is so sweet sometimes. Then in canon we got the flashback with Aran, and the whole (dubbed) "People don't like you, Tsumu" "Yeah, so what?" and I was like "O: that's how I feel too!" Falling for him was a slow trickle after that, and many goofy arguments with my partner of, "you like him!" "no I don't!" "yes you do!" "ok maybe..."

But with Satori, it was more instant that I think I realize, and I easily relate to him the most, almost out of any hq character in general. He was actually properly introduced in "Guess Monster" and is, in the most endearing way possible, a complete and utter weirdo. He's so ridiculous, and I think his character actually startled me at first, but in the best way possible.

I relate and connect with him in so many ways. His insistence on being himself and only himself (or rather, his inability to be anything but himself) was something I instantly related to, and that only got stronger as the season went on. In the flashback, the stupid teacher lady, and those damn children that I'm going to punch were both things I had experienced. Teachers/elders telling me to do things 'the normal way' and my peers not understanding me at all, so resorting to bullying. Then we got the scene with Tori and Washijou, Coach telling him to play however, as long as he gets the job done, and it kinda hit me pretty hard, realizing how badly I crave a mentor like that, and how thankful I am for the people that do support my "I don't give a fuck about your opinion" attitude.

Anyway, that was a lot, but basically 'Guess Monster' because Satori is my biggest comfort character :)

- Dragon anon

Ok but I love this 🥺 I will say, I did not like Atsumu when I first saw him easy. His general vibe just gave me Oikawa but ⭐️ season 4 ⭐️ vibes. It's really the Fanon version of Sumu I love the most too just like the fanon version of Oikawa. Also I truly believe he matured a little as he grew up 😅 or at least I like to hold out the hope that he did!

And please, Tendou is like the sweetest! I adored him from the first time I saw him and I'd definitely say he's the character that is most like me in HQ. Literally I was always called a freak for being so tall so I relate to him so much. I think Tensou fits so perfect at Shiratorizawa, like the coach is a total grumpy man but he knows how to bring out the beat in his players and wr all know he cares about them. Plus Ushijima and Tendou as besties makes my heart clench 🥰

#my lovely bbys #dragon anon

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2p-stuff-because-i-miss-them · 3 years

Note

could you do 2p allies with a like really tall s/o, tall women don’t get enough love🥺🥺🥺🥺

i love your writing btw❤️❤️❤️

LEG

2p America: “Woah there...I don’t remember ordering such a tall glass of water~”. Allen is in love, no really he’s just 🥰. Deadass always hits on s/o with height pick up lines even though s/o’s already his girlfriend- (ask him to stop dw he will). Hand holding is required in large crowds because he gets really lost sometimes and s/o is a good landmark. CLIMBS s/o or completely yeets them down for a kiss 90% of the time. Whats that? Did Allen hear someone shit talking his s/o’s height? teehee. ON HIS LIFE HE WANTS THE SMOKE, HE WILL CURB STOMP ANY DUMBASS THAT SAYS SHIT ABOUT HIS BABYGORL DAMMIT. He fucking adores his s/o’s height in everyway and as far as he’s concerned they’re one of the only important people in his world, so if you got something to say? get ready to fight.

2p England: “Love could you grab that batch of sugar for me out of the pantry?”. He’s taking advantage out of it and honestly can we blame this short stack?? Brings you every where just incase he needs you to grab something too high for him. Fully expects his s/o to carry him around whenever he just decides to sit on their lap and never move-. Did I mention he is the most compliant arm rest? He’ll seriously sit for a long ass time for his s/o to lean against. you may forget he’s there. “stoP SLOUCHING love :>” his s/o will never slouch again seriously he’s so strict about it-. Your reward for not slouching are hugs and kisses. That being said yall will be kissing and he’ll just j u m p and wrap his legs around his s/o and you may both fall-. He does it every time and at this point s/o thinks he’s trying to get them crashing down to the ground. He is

2p Canada: “Can we- *cough* ahem, can you......canwepleasecuddleandcanIbethelittlespoonliketwice”-. He’s all shy and blushy and shit d’aww. Matt loves feeling big and all ofc and yes he is manly forest man...HOWEVER, he likes to feel regular sized every so often ya know? even if s/o’s like a lil shorter than him he’s so happy. He’s still carrying his s/o around and setting them on his lap 75% of the time cause he doesn’t c a r e if she’s an i n c h taller than him. genuinely thinks his s/o is gorgeous so yeah he stares a l o t.

2p France: *glances at legs* damn you’re so f i n eeee. K he didn’t say that, out loud, but its what he’s thinking aight? He likes the height and Franc really do be a leg man so his eyes will linger on those luxurious pillars. His s/o won’t notice tho, he kind of admires them discreetly so they don’t feel self conscious. He rents and owns private seating's for operas and other events like it for his s/o to sit in peace. On the off chance that Francois can’t rent out private seating he’s like “yeah lmao, what was I thinking? lemme call the manager and just rent the place out XD”. He really just wants to see his precious queen happy.

2p China: *jumps on back*. Prepare to be attacked all the damn time. ofc he’ll offer piggy back rides back but he’s gonna latch on first. Most of your shirts and stuff are gone btw, he’s keeping them hostage and no you won’t ever see them again unless he has them on. S/o is his full body pillow now, there's no debate. daily compliments about how beautiful his s/o is, especially in the height department. KISS HIS FOREHEAD PLEASE WHENEVER YOU CAN HE’LL SMOTHER YOUUU.

2p Russia: *BLUSHES EVERYTIME HE LOOKS TO THE SIDE AND SEE’S S/O’S FACE BECAUSE HE’S NEVER HAD TO NOT LOOK DOWN BEFORE*. So Vik at l e a s t 6 feet tall and he’s ecstatic about this-. he doesn’t have to break his back to get a kiss? He doesn’t have to sit in the back of the movie theater alone?? BRUV HE’S FINNA START CRYING. You guys can run into door frames together now how romantic~. Knows where to buy NICE and fashionable tall girl clothing dw. will help with slouching, and gives great massages for sudden bacc pains.

Aight yalls, as you can see the bois love themselves a tall waman. These are a lil exaggerated, the boys probably wouldn’t treat their tall s/o’s too differently from how they would treat any other type of s/o, the height just adds more for them to love on :>.

#2p hetalia #2p!hetalia #2p america #2P france #2p russia #2p china #2p england #2p canada #2p headcanons #my bois are simps for tall ladies

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pluviophile-imagines · 4 years

Text

My Lady

in which captain shigaraki tomura intended to take everything from the commodore who sank his ship—his wealth, his home, every treasure he’d collected in his journeys. but there was one thing he hadn’t factored into his perfect revenge scheme: falling in love with the man’s fiancé

shigaraki tomura x reader

word count: 15.2k genre: fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn type: one-shot warnings: threats of violence, infidelity reader: fem (she/her pronouns, fem terms, fem clothing) note: while in a technical sense this fic contains cheating (the reader is engaged to be married to hawks), the reader and hawks are not emotionally devoted to each other and not together in a modern sense. it’s an arranged marriage and the two characters are not in love

the words were coming forth before he could think about them. he’d realized long ago that such a thing was hardly rare when he talked to you. you simply had a profound effect on him; one which made his careful consideration go fuzzy, made him struggle to keep up the act. “you deserve someone who loves you, my lady. someone you love back.”

your back straightened. you turned your head just barely so that you could settle your gaze at him through the corner of your eye, lids heavy and face unreadable. “that’s a romantic thought, tenko. naïve, I think, but romantic. i used to daydream of it as i used to daydream of sailing. but it’s just as out of reach, just as cruelly close and unattainable as the sea.”

“what if it wasn’t?” he needed to stop talking. “what if it was right here? a man who loves you, ready to take you away on his ship?”

shigaraki tried to keep his breath steady. he tried to keep his expression innocent. he tried to convince you that his question was merely hypothetical.

he hoped you knew, somehow, that it was anything but.

Shigaraki Tomura wanted to destroy everything that Commodore Takami Keigo, the navy’s illustrious Seahawk, held dear.

He still remembered the sight of his burning ship the day the commodore finally succeeded in sinking it; the smell of fire was etched into his mind, the ash heavy in his lungs, the golden red glow of the flames as they reduced the ship he’d inherited from his master to a skeleton of smoldering remains to be swallowed by the sea impossible to forget. He’d lost all but seven of his crew in the fire—seven crewmates who held strong by his side, his most loyal companions.

That was over a year ago. He’d spent that time rebuilding his power, his notoriety, his crew—now, he was Captain Shigaraki of the Decaying Lady, the pirate king, a far more fearsome and respected man than he’d ever been before his defeat, and he hadn’t lost a battle to Takami Keigo since.

But it wasn’t enough. No matter how many of the Seahawk’s ships he sunk, none of them came close to meaning as much as the All For One had meant to Shigaraki. No matter how many times they came to blows on the open seas, it never satisfied his lust for revenge. He wanted to ruin Takami’s life.

It was a life which had only been getting better and better. Just as Shigaraki rose in infamy, Takami too gained in power. His new title as commodore was proof of as much, along with the enormous ships he captained and the grand manor he'd built.

And you, his new fiancé.

He’d first caught wind of the Seahawk’s engagement while he and his crew were resupplying at a remote oceanside town. The chosen soon-to-be bride—you—was the daughter of a recently retired admiral, a man who Shigaraki had never met personally but whose name was made familiar by reputation. Apparently, according to the heartbroken barmaid Shigaraki had accosted (who had apparently been convinced the commodore was in love with her, poor girl), Takami had spent the past three months courting you, and had proposed a few weeks ago. When he followed up on that information by sending Jin to pay off a dock worker at Takami’s local port, he learned that you’d moved into the manor in the recent week, and that the commodore was already back out to sea, leaving his home and his lover unguarded.

Shigaraki Tomura wanted to take everything from Takami Keigo. Every ornate sword he’d stolen from the hands of Shigaraki’s fellow pirates, every gilded treasure he collected on his journeys, every extravagant article of clothing he wore like an expensive peacock, every hint of wealth and success that Takami kept in his manor down to the manor itself, Shigaraki would take it all. He’d pillage whatever was worth reselling, and then he’d return the favor Takami gave him all those months ago and burn the house to the ground. Whatever he deemed unworthy of taking would be destroyed with the home, melted into the ground or burnt to a charred crisp like the wooden walls.

And you, the woman the Seahawk loved—you’d burn with it. Takami Keigo would be heartbroken.

The plan was simple, as these things went. He’d already secured a spot as a servant at the manor; he’d work it for three months to get an inside understanding of the household’s inner workings. That was perhaps a bit longer than inherently necessary, but the satisfaction of Takami returning to find that the pirate king had lived in his household for months on end without his notice was too good to pass up.

So, nearly two weeks since you’d moved into the manor, Shigaraki started his first day. After a brief tour and an introduction to the rest of the small staff (only seven servants including the housekeeper and butler), he was put to work bringing out breakfast.

You sat at the head of the table with the butler standing behind your shoulder. In your hands was a folded piece of paper—a letter, clearly. As he drew closer Shigaraki could see the Seahawk’s seal on the back. You looked bored, and perhaps a bit melancholy, eyes scanning over the words slowly with no reaction to what they said.

Glancing up from the letter as he approached, you set it down carelessly and sat up straighter. “Oh, good.”

“Are you done reading, my lady?” The butler stepped forward, reaching for the discarded paper.

You waved it off dismissively. “Yes, done enough, it was all trite formality.”

“Understood.”

“Was there anything from my father?” Your voice sounded tentative, or perhaps hopeful.

“No. That’s the only correspondence this morning.”

You sighed, clearly choosing to drop the topic as you turned your attention back to Shigaraki. “I haven’t seen you before. Are you new?”

“Yes, miss,” he responded.

“You’ll address her as ‘my lady,’ boy. That’s her proper title,” the butler barked.

You gave a strange side-eyed look to him, expression chagrined, but when you spoke it was to Shigaraki. “What’s your name?”

“Shimura, my lady.” Fine. If you wanted to be pedantic, then he’d play along.

You cocked your head, eyes scanning his form before meeting his gaze. “Is that your family name?”

“Yes.”

“Your full name, if you would?”

“Shimura Tenko.” Saying the name felt final. He had to work to control the smile rising on his face—and it was good that he did, because you seemed to be scrutinizing him with a pensive look in your eye. You couldn’t possibly be onto him already, could you?

“Shimura. Well, welcome to the manor, I suppose.” You lifted a hand and waved him off dismissively. “You may go, I’m sure you have obligations that don’t include indulging in your boss’ morning conversation.”

He bowed, exiting in the same manner he’d entered. Something was strange about the whole encounter. On paper, he supposed, it ought to have been perfect; nobody had questioned why he was there, you’d dismissed him quickly, it was just long enough that he wouldn’t be suspiciously invisible but not enough to stand out. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that you knew something.

Shigaraki didn’t see you again until a week after your first meeting. It was a large building; plus, he got the distinct idea that you preferred to be alone. He didn’t care much—there were many reasons to befriend you and just as many to keep his distance. Takami had most certainly shared his various exploits with you, including those involving Shigaraki, and the last thing he needed was for you to recognize him within the first week. However, conversely, you certainly knew a great deal about Takami and it could be beneficial to become a confidant of yours. He decided to simply let the cards fall where they may and take advantage of whatever he was dealt.

He’d been assigned to clean the library, though, and he found you there, tucked into a corner perched on a plush armchair with your legs folded up beneath you and your skirts pooling around you. You had a book one hand, held open with your well kept fingers, and you used your other hand to prop up your head.

You glanced up when he approached.

“Shimura, right?” you asked. At his nod, you set down the book and began to rise from your seat. “I’ll get out of your way.”

Shigaraki shook his head, all too willing to play up the polite servant boy image he hoped you’d gotten from him the previous meeting. “You’re no bother, my lady. You can stay.”

“Oh, but I wouldn’t want to be a bother.”

“I’d enjoy the company, if it’s not too bold.”

You hesitated, halfway to standing. Slowly lifting your head to look at him, you fixed him with a discerning gleam in your eye. It was strange; he almost felt as if your mere gaze turned his very skin invisible and bore every thought and feeling he held before you.

“It’s not,” you said finally. “I’d enjoy your company, too.”

Sitting back down, you tucked your feet up under you once more, pulling your skirts up as well to keep out of his way as you rested your book open on your lap to keep reading. He dusted in silence for a while, acutely aware of how you kept glancing up at him, especially when he reached up to dust the higher parts of the shelves.

It was only when he was mostly done that you spoke.

“You’re awfully tall, Shimura.”

He had to hold back his laughter. Yes, he was, he supposed—that was why he’d been assigned to dust the shelves, considering he was the tallest among a staff of the stout housekeeper, the greying butler, the three maids around his age and the two young footboys.

“I am, my lady.”

“Would you mind getting me a book before you leave? It’s at the top of that bookshelf,” you pointed just next to him, “near the left corner. The red one.”

He found it quickly and pulled it from the shelf before striding over to you and silently handing it over. As he did, though, he saw the title.

“Astronavigation?”

Looking up at him and fixing him with a keen smile, you raised the other book so that he could see it was about tides. “I’m making my way through Keigo’s collection of nautical works.”

You pointed backwards with your thumb and he followed the gesture to find a stack of fifteen or so books behind you; clearly the ones you’d read already.

“You’re a curious woman...” he murmured, not entirely realizing he’d said it aloud.

“Excuse me?”

Shigaraki’s head snapped back to find you staring at him and realized, belatedly, that he’d been rude.

“Apologies, my lady.” It was rushed, tone not quite as controlled as he would have wanted. He cringed.

You raised an eyebrow. When you spoke, he heard laughter in your voice. “Shimura, I’ll be frank. If I was going to be angry at your... indiscretion, that apology would have done nothing to endear you to me.”

Your words conflicted with your tone. Were you angry? He couldn’t tell. His confusion must have been clear, though, because you answered the question for him.

“Lucky for you I wasn’t angry, and I find your honesty refreshing. Everyone’s so withdrawn around me. It’s nice to have someone who stumbled over those pretenses,“ you paused, tilting your head and giving a smile that was almost impish. “Someone who doesn’t call me ‘my lady’ until he’s been corrected. You should drop that, by the way. I don’t like it, but they all insist.”

“Why?” He was asking before he really thought about it.

“My fiancé drilled it into them. You’ll still have to say it when he’s around, but as I’m sure you’ve been told he won’t be back for months. Besides,” you blinked, and again Shigaraki got the unnerving feeling that you were staring right through him, “I have a feeling you’re a capable man. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

There was some kind of implication in your words, he could tell from the tone of your voice. He just wasn’t sure what it was.

“I’m afraid your housekeeper wouldn’t have that,” Shigaraki replied, glancing to the side slightly before tacking on, “my lady.”

He gained a laugh for that, hardly stifled but kind of sad and accompanied by a similar refrained, morose smile.

“True enough, I suppose. I look forward to seeing more of you, though, Shimura. You’re the first hire since I came here.”

Ah. That made him understand, kind of. The other members of the staff had been around longer than you—Takami, presumably, had hired them himself. Which meant that they, just as much as the manor and everything else within, were his.

But… well, you were the Seahawk’s too, so why did that make you sad?

You were sitting on the roof.

It had been nearly a month since he’d first met you. Shigaraki was lighting the third floor when he happened to glance through a window and see you sitting just outside—not on a balcony, but on a second floor roof that jutted out just slightly, perched on the rounded shingles with your knees pulled to your chest and your skirts carelessly draped around you.

“My lady?” he was calling before he thought about it—truly, he ought to have let you be and moved on with his night—but you turned to look at him through the window and gave him a charming smile.

“Shimura. The sky’s so clear tonight. Come out and join me.”

“I have to finish this corridor, ma’am.”

“I’ll help you if you come out for a moment. Sit and look at the stars with me, indulge your young, naïve boss, just a bit.”

There were many adjectives he might use to describe you after having gotten to know you better over the weeks; many that he had used, in his letters to his crew—eccentric, shrewd, cunning, pretty—but naïve was certainly not one of them.

Keeping a low profile meant not being caught on the roof at night with the lady of the house. Joining you was hardly in his best interest.

He stepped out onto the roof.

You clapped your hands, cheering. “Good choice, my friend. You won’t regret it.”

“Mmm, we’ll see.”

You were right, of course. The sky was nice; the nicest he’d seen since he’d come to live on the island, though he’d seen better on the Decaying Lady. He almost wished he could tell you that as you and he lay back together to look up at it. You held your hand up above you, pointing out constellations and rattling off ancient stories to explain them. He paid rapt attention and tried to ignore how mesmerised he was by your voice.

He’d become so mesmerised, apparently, that he didn’t realize you’d changed the topic until you said, “Keigo will be visiting in a week.”

Shigaraki sat up, turning to look down at you. He’d known, of course, but it was through his own network, not because he’d been told by someone at the manor. “Ah.”

“You’re the only member of the staff who hasn’t met him, is all. I figured I’d give you a fair warning.”

He’d met the man far more times than any other member of the staff, actually. It was actually fairly pathetic; Takami spent so much time at sea that a man who wanted to kill him had spoken to him more times than his own fiancé (and now, the very man had spoken to his fiancé more times than he had). Of course, Shigaraki wouldn’t be seeing Takami now—he’d be found out immediately. So he’d been talking about a heavily pregnant sister, entirely fictional, who would be giving birth conveniently the same day the master of the house would be visiting.

“I’m not entirely sure why I’d need a warning,” Shigaraki settled upon saying.

You sat up next to him, fixing him with that examining look he was beginning to think was a permanent fixture on your face. A cool breeze blew across the roof and ruffled your skirts.

“Turn of phrase,” you said finally. “You don’t really need a warning. Keigo hardly notices the staff, anyway. He’ll have some inane meeting I won’t be allowed to attend and then we’ll have an awkward dinner where he and I try and utterly fail to engage each other in conversation.”

Shigaraki blinked. He almost recoiled, the disdain and boredom in your voice like a slap to the face. You spoke about Takami that way? Your fiancé? The man you surely loved?

He couldn’t even respond. You’d never spoken of Takami with any particular emotion, positive or otherwise, but he figured you were simply a private person—or perhaps that being away from him was trying in a way you didn’t want to share. But you were clearly dreading his visit, as if you’d rather he didn’t even bother.

“Don’t worry, you won’t have to witness that,” you said, breaking him from his thoughts. “He doesn’t like the staff watching him eat.”

“You don’t sound very excited about this visit. Don’t you miss him?”

You raised an eyebrow. “No, not particularly. I doubt he misses me—in fact, I know he doesn’t. He has plenty of company.”

The insinuation there didn’t escape Shigaraki. Of course he knew about the commodore’s infamous womanizing ways. He always assumed (hoped, really, in the vain belief that the Seahawk was a chivalrous man, however annoying) that Takami had stopped all of that when he gave you the ring on your finger, and that the stories he continued to hear were mere aftershocks that refused to fade.

He’d look into it. The idea put an odd, uncomfortable feeling in his chest, one which apparently showed on his face because you laughed.

“I don’t care that much, Shimura. No need to feel sorry for your poor lady. Those women are far more excited to see him than I’ll ever be.”

You directed a confident, reassuring smile at him, yet there was an undertone of sadness to it. His hatred for Takami was so immense he’d doubted it could get any more fierce, but somehow, you managed to stoke the flame, add fuel to the fire.

“I still think it’s awfully discourteous, my lady,” he said, and he meant it.

“Well, thank you for your concern, Shimura. Now. I promised I’d help you light the corridor.”

You began to rise—Shigaraki rushed to beat you to his feet and offer a hand, which you took happily. He ignored the warm tingling in his palm where your fingers touched him. It shouldn’t have surprised him that they were soft, but he wasn’t used to soft hands, and he enjoyed the sensation more than he cared to admit.

He helped you back through the window too, allowing himself to smile slightly when you giggled and hiked up your skirts on your way down. It genuinely surprised him when you made your way towards the candle he’d set down on a table.

“I’ll get one from my room,” you said happily, and you were gone through a door just as he arrived at the table himself.

It seemed you were serious about helping him. He wondered, fleetingly, how often you did this sort of thing. Surely this wasn’t your only time—you were all too casual in bringing back your own candle, pressing the wick to the flame that burned at the tip of his until it caught and then turning about to find the nearest unlit oil lamp on the wall.

He was almost captivated as he watched you stretch upward on the tips of your toes, your skirt rising from the floor and your hand braced on the wall as you held the flame to the lamp’s wick until it, too, caught. When you pulled back, he realized he’d been staring, and quickly averted his gaze towards his candle as you turned towards him.

“Come on now, I won’t do it for you. I’m still paying you, you know..”

That you were. He pushed all lingering thoughts of you from his mind and moved to join you at the opposite wall, easily reaching up to light his own lamp.

The two of you finished, predictably, in half the time it would have taken him ordinarily. You met him at the center of the corridor and raised your candle to your lips, blowing out the flame easily.

“There we are.” You gave him a grin, leaning forward to nudge his shoulder with your own in a very unladylike motion. “All done, and nobody even saw us. That’s a success if ever I’ve seen one.”

Shigaraki nodded in agreement. “Thank you, my lady.”

“Thank you, Shimura, for joining me outside. I enjoy your company. I’ll have to steal you away more often.”

And you were gone just like that, disappearing back to your bedchambers with your candle in hand.

“Captain, you’re not paying attention at all.”

Shigaraki’s head snapped away from the sun setting over the water to face Magne. She and Dabi sat staring at him, the map of the manor spread out, forgotten, on the makeshift rocky table between them. They occupied a small, hidden cave on the shore of an island not too far from the one that housed Takami’s manor—the Decaying Lady couldn’t stay nearby, but Shigaraki decided to use his day off while Takami visited as an opportunity to meet with his crew.

“What's troubling you?” Magne continued.

“Please don’t,” Dabi drawled, “we don’t need to have a heartfelt talk, we need to make a plan.”

Magne shot him a glare before turning back to Shigaraki. “Ignore him. Tell me.”

Shigaraki frowned. “I don’t think they’re in love.”

Magne and Dabi exchanged a brief bewildered look.

“Who?” Magne asked.

At the same time, Dabi raised an eyebrow and said, “Takami and his fiancé?”

Shigaraki nodded. “Why are they getting married if they’re not in love?”

His two underlings sat quiet for a moment, clearly processing his question and how best to respond. He understood—he wouldn’t be asking it if the answer were simple.

Finally, Magne piped up. “I’ll be honest, captain, I thought we all knew it was unlikely they were in love.”

“Power,” Dabi cut in. “Power and wealth, that’s the answer. Love is rarely the reason for marriages among people of their stature, boss. Figured you’d know that.”

What? That was—no. That didn’t make sense.

“I’m still not following.”

Again, his companions exchanged a look.

“Takami’s a decorated naval officer. He’s respectable, young, up-and-coming. She has wealth and titles, and comes from a good family. That’s the exchange. No love necessary.” Dabi shrugged. “That’s what marriage is for—more prestige, more money, more power. It’s that simple.”

“But she doesn’t have wealth, or power—they’re not hers, they’re her father’s. So what does she get out of it, if her husband doesn’t even love her?”

“She maintains her comfortable lifestyle. It’s not as if she has much of a choice; if her father deems Takami a suitable match, that’s it. What else could she need?”

Dabi said it so simply, like it was obvious. Shigaraki was beginning to feel foolish. He no longer liked the conversation, and he didn’t fully grasp what was so obvious about marrying for anything other than love.

“You’re a romantic, captain,” Magne said. She sounded endeared more than anything; almost proud of him. “I am, too. I’d never marry someone I didn’t love. Dabi’s just a cynical bastard who doesn’t believe in marriage.”

Dabi scoffed, but didn’t deny it, not that it was any kind of surprise for the acerbic, closed-off quartermaster.

“Enough of this,” Shigaraki said. “Get back to work.”

Shigaraki found you on your favorite roof the first day he returned.

It was foolish of him, but despite knowing that he ought to be focused on asking other servants about how long Takami would be gone for or any changes to the scheduling, he couldn’t help but feel drawn to you. It was as if he couldn’t focus on his mission if he didn’t know how you were doing.

“I missed you, Shimura,” you said to him as he stepped out behind you. “I didn’t quite realize just how much I’ve been enjoying your presence until you were gone.”

“Sorry, my lady. I had family business.”

“So I was told. I hope all’s well.”

“It is. My sister’s recovering and I have a healthy baby niece.”

“That’s good.”

The conversation lulled. Shigaraki would have responded, but he got the feeling you wanted to float in the silence for a moment. He sat down a little ways behind you instead. You leaned back, bracing yourself on your palms and looking out over the water with a wistful, and perhaps a little bit melancholy expression on your face. He waited for you to speak.

“I wanted to sail, you know. When I was a child. I loved the ocean. My father would take me on his ships while they were docked.” You sighed, glancing down at the gown you were wearing like it had insulted you. “But that’s not a woman’s place, certainly not a lady’s. Keigo is my father’s inheritor. I’m just… a prize. A reward for my fiancé’s good work. Another medal to gather dust with the rest of his impressive collection—just, one that comes with heirs.”

Those words were almost angry—a sad, long burned out kind of flame like you were tired of it. You’d never said it before, not openly, but now that you had Shigaraki realized he’d known. It was obvious in the way you continually asked him not to use your title, the way you fiddled with your ring like it burned you with every second it touched your skin, the way your smile faded at the mention of your fiancé: it wasn’t simply that you didn’t love Takami, you held hatred there, a smoldering ember in your heart. And if there was hatred, then perhaps…

No. That was a dangerous thing, the plausibility that you might be as willing to throw Takami to the wolves as Shigaraki and his crew were to be the pack. It made his mind go to dangerous places, think up dangerous alternatives, imagine dangerous outcomes. But that would be so much more complicated; killing you was cleaner, right? No chance of you returning.

Still, a little thought in the back of his head grew louder, more defined. You weren’t the lovesick fool he’d assumed you’d be—you hated your engagement, perhaps even hated Takami. If Shigaraki offered you an answer, a way out… would you take it? Would you go willingly?

Wouldn’t that be poetic. Better than offing you, better than making Takami wallow in his guilt, better than forcing him to bury you; have him live knowing you left him, willingly, without hesitation. His fiancé running off with his rival.

Shigaraki liked the sound of that.

But he had to make sure, so he tentatively inched himself closer. “Do you hate him?”

He didn’t bother asking himself why he sounded so cautiously hopeful when he said it. All part of the act.

“Keigo?” You turned to your companion, and at his nod you sighed before returning your gaze to the sea. “Do I? Perhaps. I hate plenty of things about him, plenty of things that he represents. But do I hate him? That’s a question I don’t believe I have an answer for.”

“Does he… not care for you?”

You laughed bitterly, short and curt and almost dismissive. “I haven’t an answer for that one either, Shimura. Does he? He cares about what I can give him. He cares about my wealth. He cares about my status. But me? My father wants Keigo as his son. Keigo wants my title and my good breeding. And so, the transaction is made.”

There was still so much left unsaid, unexplained. Shigaraki moved forward further, now standing right next to you at the edge. “You told me before that the commodore enjoys… company. How are you not included in that?”

You wrinkled your nose in distaste. “My fiancé likes the chase. He likes to pursue, to draw a woman to his bed or earn an invite to warm hers. He likes to be denied and then welcomed, a push and a pull, something to be entertained by—and, trust me, he hasn’t given that up despite putting this ring on my finger. I was never a challenge. I’m… boring. I’m guaranteed. I have no choice but to sit here surrounded by servants who refuse to call me by my name and wait for him to return from his far more alluring exploits.”

There were a great many things Shigaraki should have thought upon hearing such information. The only thing that rattled in his brain, however, was that either you were a fool for thinking any man could be blind to your charms or Takami was even more of one for actually denying you the affection you well deserved.

Far more alluring exploits. Shigaraki had been to countless islands, met countless women who found his reputation appealing. He doubted it was possible for a woman more alluring than you to exist. If Takami truly took you for granted and neglected you for however many harlots might cross his path, then, well, he deserved to have you plundered.

“He’s a fool, then,” Shigaraki sneered, angry and vicious. Subconsciously, surely, he’d known all along, but for some reason the way you spoke, so forlorn and bitter and scorned… he barely had time to tack on a, “My lady,” to the end.

You gave another laugh. This one was happy and tinkling, lilting with genuine amusement and (though it might have been wishful thinking on Shigaraki’s part) affection. “You know what I like most about you, Shimura? All the others refuse to say my name. It’s always ‘my lady’ or worse: ‘Mrs. Takami.’ You, though… you hesitate. Every time. Sure, you say it anyway. But it’s an afterthought. That’s how I know you’re talking to me for real.”

He caught the hidden meaning to that—he was getting better at reading between the lines of your words. The others only saw you as Takami’s fiancé, but he saw you as your own person. Perhaps it was foolish (there were, of course, so very many people who didn’t have the luxury of living in an enormous manor enjoying the wealth their family accumulated over the years, all work being done by the staff), but Shigaraki couldn’t help but feel sorry for you. Having all those people around you but never even hearing your name, the only man who bothered really talking to you one who didn’t love you and was largely absent—it had to be lonely.

There were so many things about you that were enticing, but chief among them was a lust for adventure that you couldn’t quite hide from him. He could see it in the way you looked at the ocean, or talked about the sky; down to even the way you breathed, like you wanted the air to smell different, less stale. You wanted to be out there, not stuck in this manor, and to Shigaraki’s own surprise he found himself yearning to be the one who’d break you out.

“Of course, my lady. I enjoy talking to you,” he said at last, having realized you were waiting for him to speak. “If it’s not too forward of me to say, I missed you in my absence, as well.”

It would be a lie to claim he was entirely surprised to find that he meant it.

“It’s not too forward at all,” you assured him. “In fact, I’m glad. It means this friendship isn’t quite as one-sided as I feared.”

“Well, I consider you a friend. More so than the rest of the staff, to be honest. That’s probably foolish of me.”

“If that makes you a fool, I’m just as guilty.”

No, you weren’t. You at least thought he was a simple servant—he’d allowed himself to get attached to you knowing he was living a lie.

You could never be a fool.

Shigaraki’s duties within the household had long included cleaning in the room everyone referred to as the armory (it was a silly name, in his opinion, because really it just housed Takami’s fancy unusable swords that sat on walls collecting dust).

It was still one of his favorite rooms in the manor. Though many of the swords were decorative and completely useless, just as many were expertly crafted, perfectly balanced weapons that Shigaraki couldn’t help but admire. He would, of course, be taking all the good ones in the upcoming raid—the others could melt with the home’s flames.

The first thing he noticed this time around, though, was that there was a new sabre displayed on the wall.

It was fairly ornate, the handle intricately carved, almost delicate in its complicated, swirling design of metal shaped to look like the ocean’s waves. The blade was well-used, though; it was clearly not simply for display, and it was just as clearly well cared for, the steel polished and sharp and the leather grip newly re-wrapped.

“That used to be my father’s,” a voice said from behind him.

Shigaraki whirled around to find you leaning against the open door frame. You pushed yourself off and walked in, coming to stand next to him in front of the sabre.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” You reached forward and traced the leather grip with one finger. “When I was a kid, he’d let me play with it. The women on his staff would throw fits—they always said I’d lose an eye or a finger—but his crew loved it. Though, to be fair, they loved most things I did.”

His mind’s eye conjured up an image of a little you, five or six years old, swinging around the sword half your height. It was an undeniably adorable thought. He understood why your father’s crew would be taken with you. “I’m sure you were a very charismatic little girl, my lady.”

“Oh, you flatter me, Shimura, but you’re wrong. I’m still a charismatic little girl.”

Well, one of those things was correct. Though he might not quite use charismatic if he were to say it—more like enthralling, or captivating.

“Keigo brought this sword last week. He visited my father while he was gone and, well, was given this. He has his own, though, so here it sits.”

Shigaraki knew all about Takami’s sword; that preposterous, gaudy thing designed to look like it was fashioned from birds’ feathers. It was probably dreadful to clean—in fact, he hoped it was. He hoped even the slightest of inconveniences were as bad as they could possibly be for the commodore.

“Which one’s your favorite?” It seemed like a simple enough question, but he knew you well enough now to recognize the playful glint in your eye. Apparently, though, you misinterpreted his hesitation, because you gave him a slight nudge with your shoulder and laughed lightly. “Come now, Shimura, you’ve been combing this room weekly for months now, surely you must have a favorite.”

You were planning something, he just wasn’t sure what. Either way, he didn’t particularly mind playing into your skillful hands. He lifted a finger and pointed towards a sword tucked into the far corner.

It was one of the few blades in the room that wasn’t displayed proudly. Shigaraki had recognized it immediately, but Takami obviously didn’t know what it represented—and to be fair it was an unassuming weapon on its own, decently crafted and plain in design. But it was the sword Shigaraki had once used, back when he was the captain not of the Decaying Lady but of the All For One, and there was only one other blade in existence that held a candle to it: the one he used now, handmade, beautiful, the sword of the pirate king. The one he pointed to wasn’t that of a king, but of a prince; but he had been a prince before, and so it was still his.

He’d thought it lost, waterlogged at the bottom of the sea with the remains of his other ship. He couldn’t wait to take it back.

Following his indication, you turned around and made your way to where it sat propped against the wall. He watched you pick it up by the handle, hefting it in one hand, and for half a moment he had the absurd fleeting thought that you’d laugh at his choice (why would you? You were hardly the type to do so. And why would he care, however unlikely it was?).

Instead, you turned back to him and tossed him the sword.

He caught it on impulse, slightly panicked by the sudden motion but managing fine enough not to fumble and let it fall to the ground.

“It’s simple, but I have to say you have good taste. That was always my favorite before but, well, I’m awfully biased. I don’t know the story of that one like many of these others, or I’d regale you with it. I’ve never been inclined to even hold any of these things, they’re all Keigo’s really, but…” trailing off, you reached out purposefully and lifted your father’s sword off its display. “This one’s rightfully mine.”

He heard every minute word you implied with the resentful tone you took for the last sentence. For whatever reason, despite everything, to you this was the worst of Takami’s crimes: a stolen sword, your father’s legacy. His grip on his own sabre tightened.

“That’s a solid grip. It looks almost like you’re used to holding a sword.” Oh. That was what you were getting at, then. Couldn’t you have just said it outright? He looked up at you, meeting your eye just as you said what he expected. “You know how to use it, don’t you?”

“Yes, my lady.”

You raised your father’s sabre, shifting your fingers on the hilt, and he realized that you also looked like you were used to holding a sword. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the way your hand circled the leather; he remembered how soft your skin was every time you took one of his own offered hands. He was captivated by the firm hold you had, the controlled maneuvering of your wrist as you lifted the blade to face him.

“Let’s spar.”

Your words really shouldn’t have surprised him. In a way, they weren’t exactly unexpected, just jarring.

He should have said no; he was supposed to be a servant boy, why would a servant boy know how to use a sword? But that rational voice was completely drowned out by the part of him that selfishly wanted nothing more than to see how well you could use one. Would you be playful? Would he hear one of those laughs that made his chest grow warm and heavy? Would you bite your lip or stick out the tip of your tongue like you did when you were concentrating hard on something? You looked so confident; was that founded? He wanted to find out. There was nothing more important to him at the moment.

“Okay,” he agreed, and raised the sabre in his own hands to cross yours.

Nothing could have prepared him for how good you were.

You had him on the ropes within the first few seconds, startling him with how fast you lunged and how skillful you maneuvered your blade. He’d planned on pretending to be far worse than he truly was, going through the motions and blowing the fight, but it was clear with your first strike that it would have been unnecessary.

He blocked your blow and the familiar metallic sound of the blades meeting sent a thrill down his spine. He met each of your following attacks with one of his own, but you kept one step ahead of him. Those few seconds before he’d truly begun to spar with you were proving to be his downfall; you were easily as good as he was, and you weren’t letting him fall into his normal rhythm.

Your blades crossed in front of his eyes, half a moment of calm allowing him to say, “did your fiancé teach you this, my lady?”

He knew the answer—Takami was good, but your technique was just different enough from his that you’d certainly been taught by another. You were impressive, but a bit textbook, clearly never having been in a real fight like himself or the Seahawk.

The grin that lit up your face was impish as you struck again and he deflected. A harsh, exhilarating clang of metal on metal rang out in chorus. “My fiancé doesn’t even know I can fight.”

The statement made Shigaraki’s heart skip a beat. He held back his own grin, one that would surely have been embarrassing. The fact that you trusted him but not Takami with something like this—your knowledge of this elaborate, intimate dance—made his heart swell with smug pride.

But beyond that, the fight itself was something special. Somehow it wasn’t so violent when he performed it with you rather than an enemy, or even a member of his crew. Dabi was a favorite sparring partner, but even when they weren’t truly aiming to harm it was harsh and unloving. With you, it was different. It was softer, somehow almost affectionate.

If anyone could hear his thoughts they’d think him insane. Affectionate. Yes, of course, you were so very affectionate as your steel bit into his cheek and left a thin mark that oozed red; as you pushed him backwards and pressed further. He must be some form of deviant—not that such a thing would be surprising. He was a damn pirate.

Apparently, that train of thought was his downfall. He didn’t notice your foot, hidden deceptively by your billowing skirt, darting out. It hooked around his ankle and pulled him down to let gravity slam him heavy into the floor.

It was over in an instant. His sword was out of his hands with a flash of your own, his back was against the ground, and you were standing with your foot on his chest, pointing your own sabre down at him.

He was frozen, unable to move, and he was very certain it had little to do with your blade mere inches from his throat. His eyes were glued to where your hand gripped the handle (firm but easy, somehow perfectly natural in your manicured fingers), entirely unwilling to let himself look anywhere else for fear of how he might react.

You had other things in mind. You moved the sword minutely, softly tracing up his throat and then under his jaw until the tip rested just under his chin. Then, just as soft, just as slight, without threat and merely bidding him to do as you desired with a silent motion, you applied more pressure and tilted his head upward to meet your eye.

You were still breathing heavily, staring down at him with that wondrous gleam in your eye and a wide, victorious smile lighting up your face. His heart was pounding in his chest, so loudly he almost feared you could hear it. He watched, captivated, as you broke that brilliant smile by drawing your lower lip between your teeth.

And suddenly he was thankful beyond reason for the wretched sword that kept him down, because if it weren’t there he would have kissed you.

The urge was abrupt and overwhelming when it washed over him. He wanted to lunge upward and pull you down, connect his lips with yours, feel you in his hands. He wanted to knock the wind out of you and flip you over just to hear the way you’d giggle—and the breathy way your laugh would stutter off when he’d press a heated kiss to your throat in retaliation for your steel. The sword that kept him from acting out his desires was the cruelest and most benevolent thing in the world.

“I win,” you announced, voice low, intimate and jubilant.

He swallowed thickly.

You plagued his thoughts every moment from then on. It was like you’d carved your name in his heart; he couldn’t rid himself of you. He thought about you before, of course, so very intelligent and capable and enthralling and pretty. Now, though… call it his own unconventional proclivities as a pirate, but the memory of you pointing a sword at his throat ran through his head every second of every day. The mere thought of it exhilarated him—your heaving chest, your triumphant smile, the steady grip of your hand on the saber’s hilt. He’d catch a glimpse of just your finger and his mind would fog up to the point of disuse.

It was probably obscene for a servant to be thinking so excessively about his lady. Luckily he wasn’t really a servant boy, and the pirate king could think about whoever he damn well pleased for as long as he desired. Still, he tried his best not to let any other staff catch on to his newfound infatuation.

His best wasn’t enough. He knew that they whispered to each other, and they whispered warnings to him as well, advising him not to pursue anything. He appreciated them though they weren’t particularly applicable. By the time Takami learned of Shigaraki’s closeness with you, he’d be long gone (and, perhaps, you with him). But more importantly it was through these warnings that he came to terms with the fact that this infatuation was hardly newfound. It had been brewing for some time; the sparring match had merely been the boiling point.

You kept shooting him fleeting glances, too. You’d seek him out more often, speaking with him in darkened corners and private balconies away from peering eyes, your smile bright and demeanor cheerful. You seemed happier than he’d ever seen you. It was, perhaps, a little arrogant, but he liked to believe it was because of him.

You took him out on little secret adventures, too. He could always tell when you were planning them; you’d spend the whole day in this strange mood, staring at him when he wasn’t looking but never addressing him directly, that all too familiar sparkle of mischief a permanent fixture in your eye. That was how he wasn’t surprised when he found you waiting for him a few hours after the sun had set.

“Come with me,” you ordered.

“Where?”

“Just come.”

And so he followed dutifully behind you through the jungle behind the manor, led by the wrist you were pulling. You held a lit oil lantern in your other hand, but aside from that the winding path you led him on was illuminated only by the full moon and brilliant stars above. Soon enough, the two of you emerged from the trees to find a cove—small, with pale white sand, sheltered by enormous rock outcroppings that surrounded it. He didn’t recall ever seeing it from the Decaying Lady before; it must have been largely camouflaged when looking from the sea.

“Pretty, right?”

Shigaraki turned to you to find that you had set the oil lamp down in the sand and were bending down to unlace your boots. You were right on the edge of the water, soft waves coming up almost to the edge of your skirts, and you looked like you were glowing with the silver moonlight coming from the sky and reflected in the water.

“Yeah,” he said. “Really pretty.”

The snort you let out broke him out of his daze. You were looking back at him with an amused, flattered grin and a raised eyebrow. “That was awfully cliche, Tenko.”

You’d been calling him that too, he’d come to notice. You’d thrown away his last name, only using his first. The intimacy of it didn’t escape him; though he’d long given up that name, he still liked the way you said it.

You were headed towards the water now. He rushed forward to grab your wrist and pull you back. Shigaraki had long come to foster a healthy dose of respect for the sea—the cove might have seemed calm, but he didn’t want you getting too far out at night while he was still on shore.

“Wait for me,” he demanded, letting go of your wrist to hurriedly bend down and take off his own shoes. He haphazardly cuffed up his pants in the vain hope that they might stay dry, though he had a feeling you wouldn’t let that happen.

When he finally rose to his full height, you were watching him expectantly. “Ready?”

“Yes, my lady.”

That was all you needed as you, in turn, took hold of his wrist again and pulled him into the water. He probably ought to have been thinking about other things—the tides, the temperature of the water, what little sight he had in the moonlit sea—but his mind couldn’t focus on anything other than how nice it would have been to maneuver his hand within your grip to lace his fingers with yours.

He was right about getting his pants wet. Within minutes, you’d dragged him out until the water reached his knees, his mid-thighs, up to his waist—and you would have kept going if he hadn’t stopped you.

Even in the dim light of the night sky, he could see you pout. But he held fast, keeping you from going deeper. In silent retaliation, you dropped down into the water to your shoulders.

The sudden motion made a laugh bubble up within him. Even the lower half of your face was below the glimmering surface, your eyes glinting up at him with that impish sparkle. He had no time to react when you lashed out with your arm and pulled him down with you.

Shigaraki plunged under for mere moments, not nearly long enough to worry him. When he surfaced, he stayed crouching like you, bobbing his head up in the air. You cackled, the sound echoing in the silent night—you had so many different laughs, all so captivating and gorgeous. He thought he could die happy listening to any of them.

This one, though, bid him to retaliate. So he raised his hands and splashed you, causing a small wave of saltwater to drench that little very top of you that had yet to be submerged. Your sputtering, surprised protests were downright adorable, making him grin wildly.

“Oi!” you shouted. “You can’t do that!’

“Oh dear, did I get you wet?” You splashed him back; it was almost pathetic compared to his, so he told you as much. “Is that all you have to give me, my lady? Weak.”

You sank down into the water again, up to your eyes, but Shigaraki was ready when you lunged this time. Instead of letting you pull him under, he caught your arm and pulled you towards him, launching the two of you back towards the beach and hauling you up out of the water with him until the two of you stood, laughing uncontrollably, in knee-deep shallows.

He realized he was still holding you only when the laughter began to die down. He pulled his hands away regretfully—how he wished so desperately he didn’t have to—and the two of you stood there in comfortable silence, you looking out at the dark horizon, him staring at the flickering flame of the oil lantern that stood guard dutifully on the beach.

You broke the silence with a simple question. “Where did you learn to sword fight, Tenko?”

“I taught myself.” That wasn’t entirely a lie—his master had been cruel in his teachings, offering no proper instruction and simply making Shigaraki learn by picking up a sword and fending off attacks. It had left him with more than a few scars, though those were long faded and covered up by far more recent ones by now.

A cold wave slammed into the back of Shigaraki’s knees, threatening to pull him down into the saltwater again. It likely would have succeeded, if not for you surging forward to grab his arms and steady him with a laugh. It made him smile, your laugh, as natural and involuntary as his heartbeat. You led him back away from the water, out of the sea until you two were right on the edge with waves only just caressing your bare feet.

“Your father taught you to fight, didn’t he, my lady?” Shigaraki asked.

Your smile was fond, if a little sad. Your tone reflected the same when you spoke. “My father always wanted a son. My mother died in childbirth, and I was their only child. He was devastated. He never remarried, but he raised me lovingly, teaching me so many of the things he wished to share with his son. My love of the sea and sky are inherited from him, as are many of my eclectic talents, my skill with the sword among them.”

“Did he teach you to use a pistol, too?”

“Yes.” God he wanted to see you shoot. You laughed. It faded quickly, though. The faraway look that appeared in your eye as you looked out towards where the moon was reflected in the glassy waves. “Sometimes it feels like he was the one Keigo courted, not me. For every letter or gift I received from my fiancé, my father got two. And when he visited he’d spend all his time in my father’s study. If he had been the one to ask me, I probably would have said no. But he asked my father, and my father told me, and he was so happy that I couldn’t deny him. It wasn’t as if I had any other prospects. And Keigo’s a fine enough man, he isn’t cruel to me, he lets me have my eccentricities. If I’m to be married to a man I don’t particularly like, I’d much rather he be absent than overbearing.”

A fine enough man. The way you spoke made Shigaraki’s blood boil, though he wasn’t angry at you. Your standards shouldn’t be that low—a man who simply wasn’t cruel to you instead of adoring you; one who allowed your eccentricities rather than cherished them. And for what? So that your father could have a son? If your father truly loved you, shouldn’t he have seen how Takami did not?

“Tenko,” you said, breaking him from his thoughts. “Don’t waste your hatred on Keigo. I knew coming into this agreement that he wouldn’t stop finding company in others. Marriage for women like me is rarely for love. My relationship with him is transactional.”

The words were coming forth before he could think about them. He’d realized long ago that such a thing was hardly rare when he talked to you. You simply had a profound effect on him; one which made his careful consideration go fuzzy, made him struggle to keep up the act. “You deserve someone who loves you, my lady. Someone you love back.”

Your back straightened. You turned your head just barely so that you could settle your gaze at him through the corner of your eye, lids heavy and face unreadable. “That’s a romantic thought, Tenko. Naïve, I think, but romantic. I used to daydream of it as I used to daydream of sailing. But it’s just as out of reach, just as cruelly close and unattainable as the sea.”

“What if it wasn’t?” He needed to stop talking. “What if it was right here? A man who loves you, ready to take you away on his ship?”

Shigaraki tried to keep his breath steady. He tried to keep his expression innocent. He tried to convince you that his question was merely hypothetical.

He hoped you knew, somehow, that it was anything but.

“What kind of a question is that?” The tremor in your voice made him think you might.

When he didn’t respond, you turned to him fully, further explanation coming easily as it always did from you. “He loves me? He would never tire of me, abandon me, move on? Despite the fact that I’d no longer be an advantageous match? He’d be devoted, he’d hold my hand, he’d whisper sweet nothings to me as I cast away the only life I’d ever known for the uncertainty of his sea?”

Yes, yes he would, all of it, everything for you. You deserved it. He didn’t have a mansion or servants or fancy medals but he had a crew, a ship, a heart that would be yours if—

No. He hadn’t offered yet. He hadn’t even asked the others, and he wasn’t about to invite you to join him if his crew didn’t want you.

But if he did offer, and if you said yes, he would give himself to you for the rest of his life. If you said no… it would break his heart to let you go, surely, but not so much as if he killed you. He’d let Takami have you, if that was what you so chose—even if he knew you’d be happier with him, cherished, treated the way you deserved to be.

Shigaraki didn’t say any of that, though. “He loves you,” was what he said, as if those three words could get across every sentiment he wished so desperately to tell you.

“I suppose our views on love are much the same, then.” You caught a little bit of it, clearly—at the very least you understood that to him, love meant everything you’d described. You blinked, that all too familiar gleam shining in your moonlit eye, like you were picking him apart at his seams and knew exactly what made him tick. Your voice when you continued held an equally familiar tone—that one you used when you wanted to tell him something hidden, laced with double meaning. “If this hypothetical, mysterious sailor is also a man of similar opinions, then yes. I’d go with him.”

A cold wave washed over Shgaraki’s feet. Everything you said, everything you did, everything you made him feel, it was all so intoxicating. And dangerous. Like steering his ship in a storm, every sentence you spoke a bolt of lightning threatening to sink him—except he wasn’t so sure was opposed to getting hit.

Scratch that. He’d been struck by your lightning months ago (and every single day following the initial bolt), and he wasn’t opposed at all. In fact, he liked it. A lot. Wasn’t that why he wanted you with him?

He pulled you down onto the beach. Your surprised, jovial yelp stole the breath from his lungs as cold water washed over the lower half of his legs.

It had been nearly a week since his spar with you, and every moment he’d spent with you in that time, however fleeting, had tempted him to kiss you. He was hungry, starving, and yet was forced to hold himself back despite the fact that there was nobody around and he was braced over you with arms splayed on either side, holding his face above yours.

You made this whole thing so very difficult. It was your fault—you looked so goddamn kissable, staring up at him with starlight and that exquisite twinkle in your eye, pleading with him to throw away any sense of decorum he needed to maintain for the sake of his cover.

But his self restraint held just strong enough to resist. He rolled off you, ignoring or perhaps imagining the tiny whine of disappointment you let out as he fell back in the sand and looked up at the sky with you.

He raised his hand, finger pointing to a random spot. “What’s that one?”

Your snort was anything but ladylike. “That’s not a constellation, silly. Have you been listening to me in the slightest?”

Yes, he had. He just wanted to hear the amusement in your voice caused by his mistake. More importantly, though, if he was lucky…

And he was. You raised your own hand, fingers reaching up to press against his palm and redirect his pointing, heedless to the way your touch set his skin alight.

“That’s Cassiopeia. She’s one of the brightest constellations in the sky. And right here, next to her—he’s harder to see, she outshines him—that’s her husband, King Cepheus.”

“You want to spare the fiancé.”

Shigaraki sat at his desk in the captain’s quarters aboard the Decaying Lady, looking over the dark wood at Dabi, who had repeated his statement in an incredulous tone.

“I want to ask her to join us.”

Dabi stared at him like he’d grown a second head, seemingly having said all he was capable of. In various spots throughout the small cabin, the rest of Shigaraki’s skeleton crew lurked—Kurogiri, Himiko, Jin, Atsuhiro, Shuichi, Magne, his closest companions. Every other person aboard the ship was irrelevant, ever changing and only loyal enough to keep alive, but these seven were steadfast, they’d been with him since before the All For One sank; he wouldn’t take on an eighth without their approval.

“Why?” Dabi finally said, no less flabbergasted than before.

“She’s intelligent, educated, not bad with a sword, likes the ocean.”

“Likes the ocean.”

“Are you just going to keep repeating everything I say?”

“Likes the ocean…” Dabi scoffed. “If that’s all it takes to be a good pirate, then my seasickness and I make a godawful one.”

“You’ve managed,” jeered Shuichi.

“She has insider knowledge of the navy, too,” Shigaraki piped up. “She’s valuable enough.”

Atsuhiro narrowed his eyes at him. “You’re reaching, Shigaraki. Why would you—“

“Captain,” Dabi interrupted, bored like always, “if you tell us you’re sweet on this girl I’ll mutiny.”

Shigaraki sighed, slumping back in his chair as he kept eye contact with Dabi. “And if I told you I was in love with her?”

Whatever Dabi’s answer might have been was drowned out by Toga’s squeal of excitement.

“Romantic! Tell us more!” Jin said. “Disgusting! Stop talking!”

“How dreamy,” Magne sighed.

“She’s a prissy high class lady, Shigaraki,” Dabi drawled. “Don’t let a pretty face make you forget that she’s Takami’s fiancé.”

“Trust me, I’m well aware,” Shigaraki grumbled. He drummed his fingers on his desk, irritable, annoyed at himself for his feelings—angry at fate that it was so damned difficult. Couldn’t you have just been a servant girl?

He didn’t even have the heart to wish that you were a shrew; he didn’t want to imagine never having fallen for you.

“Would she join?” Finally, from the back, Kurogiri spoke up.

Shigaraki sat up straighter, meeting the older man’s eye—his caretaker, his oldest companion, the most experienced of everyone in the room. If Kurogiri denied him, Atsuhiro and Shuichi would follow suit, and that would be it. “I think so.”

“Have you asked her?” Kurogiri raised an eyebrow.

“Not directly. I’m not so brainless or selfish even in love. I wouldn’t ask without seeking your collective permission first—that’s what this is, of course. And I’d never tell her who I am or my intentions if she had an inclination to foil our revenge plot—which she might, of course. I’m not a mind reader. But in a roundabout way, yes, I have asked her and received a positive response. But I have to admit… despite how careful I’ve been, I’m starting to think she knows.”

“Knows?” Dabi repeated.

“That I’m…” Shigaraki rolled his hand forward dismissively, trying to find the right phrasing.

Atsuhiro finished for him before he could find it. “That you’re Captain Shigaraki Tomura of the Decaying Lady, the pirate king, inheritor of the All For One and rival of her fiancé the Commodore Takami Keigo? That you’re there to steal her wealth, burn down her house, and kill her? Or that you’re madly, illicitly in love with her?”

“All, I suppose.”

“All, he supposes.”

Shigaraki fixed Dabi with a chilling glare. “I’m growing tired of your repetition, quartermaster.”

“Understood, captain.” Of course he understood—he just wouldn’t stop. The insufferable grin on his face said as much.

“How long?” Kurogiri asked.

That could have meant two things, so Shigaraki answered the easiest. “I began getting suspicious about two weeks ago. Though, admittedly, it might just be wishful thinking.”

Shuichi looked stunned. “You want her to know you’re a pirate infiltrating her home?”

“He wants her to know the real him,” Toga said dreamily. “He wants her to be in love with who he truly is, not his alias. How cute!”

That wasn’t exactly how he’d have phrased it, but it was close enough. Apparently the look on his face got that across.

“Gross,” Dabi groaned. “You look like you’re about to start penning poetry.”

Jin turned to him. “Let him be, it’s sweet! I agree, it’s revolting.”

“You’re quite positive that she’s expressing interest in you?” Kurogiri sounded concerned. Coming from any of the others, Shigaraki might have taken offense. But he knew what Kurogiri was truly asking.

“If she doesn’t return my feelings then she’s having good fun playing with them.” Shigaraki could hardly bear the prospect of that.

“Toying with a poor infatuated servant boy’s feelings is exactly the kind of thing women like her find entertaining.”

Shigaraki fixed Dabi with another glare, this one far more scathing. “You don’t know her. I’ve spent three months with her. She’s close with other members of the staff, but she’s different with me. She seeks my company, alone. Yes, I’m confident enough that she returns my affections.”

The way you talked to him was just so fond, stark contrast to the bitter way you spoke of Takami. How cruel of you to give him such hope, if you really would reject him.

“Then, it seems, we have three most likely possibilities.” Atsuhiro raised a gloved hand and held up three fingers. “One, that she’s entirely oblivious to the captain’s true identity and believes she’s fallen for a servant boy, in which case revealing who he is might scare her off. Two, that she’s well aware of who he is and has fallen for him anyway, which is the scenario most likely to lead to her agreeing to join us. Or three, that she knew immediately and has been playing our young, strapping captain for a fool the entire time, plotting with Takami to foil our revenge plan from the start.”

Shigaraki’s shoulders slumped as he heard the last scenario. But, even if it were the case… “It’s not as if I’ve told her our plans. Even if she were acting against us, she wouldn’t know when we planned to make our attack, and we know from sources other than her that Takami is days away.”

No harm done if it was the case. But Shigaraki hoped beyond reason that it wasn’t.

“Fine.” Dabi seemed at least slightly placated. “We’re voting on this, then?”

Shigaraki nodded. “Yea or nay, whether I’ll ask her to join.”

“I’m unconvinced. Nay.”

That was hardly surprising. He highly doubted he’d ever have been able to sway Dabi’s opinion without the man having met you. He knew, though, that if you joined Dabi would warm up to you eventually, and certainly not antagonize you too excessively until that happened.

“I think we could use more women on the crew!” Toga was grinning. “I vote yea!”

Next to her, Jin spoke. “A lady friend would do you good, boss. Yea.”

“Perhaps I’m being overly cautious here, but I’m not a fan of the risk.” Atsuhiro cocked his head. “My vote is nay, though I would very much like you to prove me wrong.”

“I think it’s incredibly romantic.” Magne gave another wistful sigh. “Yea.”

“I… agree with Atsuhiro.” Shuichi sounded disappointed in himself. “Nay, but… only barely, I suppose.”

They were even. That wasn’t good. Shigaraki looked towards Kurogiri in the back, the tiebreaker. More than that, though, Kurogiri’s approval was more important than the others—not to the voting system, but to Shigaraki. Sure, he hadn’t met you, he was passing judgement on someone he had yet to know, but it was a question of whether he had a desire to know you, and Shigaraki certainly wanted that to be the case.

Kurogiri didn’t speak for a time. He stood and stared at Shigaraki for a good few heartbeats, as if he was trying to find the right answer from his captain’s face. Shigaraki felt like his heart was going to explode. Finally, he nodded, and quite simply said, “Yea.”

“That’s four to three,” Magne announced. “Yea’s take it.”

Shigaraki nodded his thanks to Kurogiri, and the man only returned it.

“I’m asking her to join, then. Tonight.” And if you said no, he’d get you out before the manor burned. But the others didn’t need to know that. “You’re dismissed. You all have jobs to do.”

They all filed out quickly, mingling with each other. Only Kurogiri stayed—certainly because he wanted to speak with Shigaraki more about you, the woman who’d stolen his former ward’s heart.

Before they could have that discussion, though, Dabi paused at the door.

“For the record, captain,” he said, still sounding disinterested and not facing the man he addressed, “she says no, she never deserved you.”

And with that, he left.

They attacked at night. Dabi’s eyes practically glowed as he spoke of the way the manor would burn so brilliantly, teeth sharp in a smile that carved through his scarred face. Shigaraki led his crew through the town and back towards the building he’d called his temporary second home for three months.

It felt odd to stride through its halls in his usual captain’s garb. Accustomed to the simple clothing of a poor worker, the sound of his boots and the weight of his large coat almost threw Shigaraki off. The sword and pistols strapped to his body, too, were strange.

The staff had already evacuated by the time they arrived. Atsuhiro, having scouted ahead, informed him that you’d chosen to remain in your bedchambers; though he hadn’t seen you, nobody had. Shigaraki had no way of knowing how you were taking things. Were you melting down? Had you predicted this, and were completely calm?

Was Atsuhiro wrong and you’d left the manor already, and Shigaraki would never see you again?

Jin and Himiko were immediately taken by a set of golden candlesticks. Magne made a beeline for the crystal and Shuichi went for the silver in the kitchen. Atsuhiro was admiring the paintings on the walls; Dabi didn’t bother doing the same for the various medals proudly displayed in elaborate cases. Their captain, though, had his mind on a far greater prize than any of them.

Shigaraki practically sprinted up two flights of stairs, leaving his companions behind to pillage. It was careless—he ought to have been more cautious, the possibility that someone remained hardly slim, but his mind was racing far too much to think clearly.

You weren’t in the sitting room, so he went through it and made for your bedroom. He’d only been in about two times—neither with you, but enough that he gathered how it was undoubtedly a barren, lonely space. Takami’s room was his study, but this one was hardly your sanctuary. You’d always preferred the library.

You were standing at the window on the opposite wall, back to him, when he opened the door. The light of an oil lamp on your desk and the full moon outside were the only things illuminating the room.

You didn’t seem scared, but you didn’t move—not even your head. You stayed there, eyes fixed on the horizon, even as you spoke before he could open his mouth.

“Hello, Tenko. Or Shigaraki, I suppose you’d rather.”

You knew.

He should have been cautious, or suspicious, or tentative. He should have wondered what you had planned, but instead the knowledge thrummed within him like the beat of his heart. You knew, you knew, you knew.

You knew who he was. How long had you known? Did you put two and two together during the raid? Was it sometime over the months you’d been growing closer to him?

“I was going to kill you,” he admitted. “I was going to burn you with the manor.”

He wanted your laugh to be sorrowful, wanted to feel the ache of his heart as you acknowledged his betrayal. Instead, it was bittersweet, and the words that followed made his mouth feel dry. “That’s a horrible way to die, Tenko. How cruel, punishing me for your rivalry with my fiancé.”

“I thought you were in love with him.”

“But I’m not.”

“You had no reason to return. If I took you and told you not to come back, you wouldn’t try. So I was going to kidnap you, dump you off at a town where he’d never find you, and threaten you for good measure, to ensure you’d stay away.”

“Would you have visited me?”

Shigaraki bit his lip. “Monthly. Me, or a member of my crew. To make sure you stayed hidden and followed my instructions.”

“How kind.” Kind? He’d just admitted he’d met you with the intent to murder you—that he’d planned to kidnap you, imprison you, force you to live in exile. And you called him kind?

You raised your hand. He was mesmerized by the motion, eyes tracking your fingers until they came to rest on his chest. When had you gotten so close? No—no, you were still standing at the windowsill. He had walked to you. He had closed the gap, magnetically drawn to you like his heart was the needle of a compass and you the stalwart northern pull.

“Would you like to know something, Tenko?” Your gaze flitted upward from your hand at the same time as his. Your voice was low, like you were telling him a secret. Your eyes were hooded.

He couldn’t even answer verbally, only managing to nod and hope that it didn’t seem too desperate—not that he could hide anything from you, with the hazy look on his face and his erratic heart and the way his breath hitched when you said his name.

“I knew the whole time.”

The whole time. You’d known from the start. You’d welcomed him into your home and let him accompany you alone and even put a sword in his hands—and you’d known.

“How?” he breathed out, mind still foggy and far too focused on the heat of your palm through the thin fabric of his shirt.

You shrugged, the roll of your shoulders drawing his greedy eyes to the slope of your neck, your collarbone, the low neckline of your gown. “Keigo keeps journals meticulously. I get bored.”

Of course. That was exactly the kind of thing you’d do, wasn’t it? Sneak into your fiancé’s study and read his journals; find the childhood name of his nemesis and remember it well enough to catch on immediately when the new servant introduced himself. Shigaraki had to fight the smile that threatened to bloom on his face.

“Why, then? Why didn’t you tell him immediately?”

You gave a quick, quiet huff of laughter. “Why? I don’t know. When we met I was reading a letter from him, the first one I’d gotten since he’d dropped me off at his own home and left not even a day later. Perhaps I was feeling vengeful. Perhaps I was simply taken with you on sight. But then by the next week, well, I was fascinated by you, and…”

You trailed off, almost sheepish, and the implication of why made Shigaraki’s heart skip a beat.

“And?” he asked, practically pleaded, desperate to hear you say it.

You picked that up—of course you did—and tightened your hand on his chest, gripping his shirt in those fingers that held him hostage. His eyes were drawn to your mouth as you bit your lip; he was fairly sure you’d done it on purpose.

“And perhaps it became something beyond enjoying your friendship. Perhaps I found myself falling for the roguish pirate king disguised as a servant boy.” Perhaps. His heart soared, his mind running wild wondering how long you’d been pining and if it had been nearly as intense as his own. Your hooded eyes scanned his face, reading him like one of your thick books. “Your turn, Tenko. What do you want with me?”

Well, now that you were asking, it felt awfully presumptuous. I want to steal you away was quite the statement, but it was the truth. Shigaraki wanted you to run off with him, he wanted to throw you over his shoulder and carry you to his ship, he wanted to sail away with you—he wanted to nab you right out from under Takami Keigo’s nose, no longer simply for the humiliation and anger that he would feel knowing his fiancé eloped with his greatest rival but because the damn peacock didn’t fucking deserve you.

You, so beautiful, so enthralling, so loud and boisterous and bright. You, stuck in the manor like a bird with wings clipped by your fiancé who spent months at sea seeking the company of other women because he found you boring. As if you, with your brilliant mind and your lethal sword and that unimaginably radiant glint in your eye that always made him want to fall to his knees in adoration before you, could ever be boring—could ever be anything but downright extraordinary.

Takami’s fucking loss, really. Boring. Because the women whose beds he warmed must have been so much better. Shigaraki doubted the chase you claimed Takami loved so much was anywhere near as thrilling as your grin when you held the point of your sword at his neck, your unreserved cackle at midnight on the manor roof, the way you took him by the hand and led him into cold seafoam under the cover of night. His rival had that handed to him on a silver goddamn platter and the fool hadn’t even bothered.

“You’d make one hell of a pirate, my lady,” Shigaraki said finally. For the first time since he entered the room, his voice was steady and confident.

There. He’d said it, laid the card right there on the table for you. Hopefully you wouldn’t balk away.

But you pulled your hand from his chest, and he felt his heart go with it.

“Is that so?” you asked. Shigaraki ached at the heartbreak in your voice, low and pained as you took a step away from him—the most you could take—and turned back towards the window.

What had he done wrong?

As always, you were one step ahead of him, ready with the right words to express your implication while he was left mute. “Do you want me? Or do you just want to make sure he can’t have me?”

Yes. He wanted you. Takami was insignificant.

He reached for you on instinct, hand on your upper arm. He’d touched you before but now, with the context of lady and servant drowned in the waves beyond the window, the feeling of your soft skin beneath his hand exhilarated him. It wasn’t enough, even as his other hand came to rest on your waist from behind. He knew that even if he gave in to the little voice screaming at him to pull you in and hold you as tight as his strength could allow, it still wouldn’t be enough. He couldn’t possibly hold you close enough, but oh how he’d try if you’d let him.

Shigaraki moved without thinking; no cognition, just instinct. His lips were pressing against your shoulder before he could stop, and despite the fabric of your gown preventing direct contact he felt the way you shivered under his kiss.

“I want you,” he murmured, muffled by fabric but loud enough that you heard—loud enough that you melted back into his body with a soft sigh, guided by his hand inching its way around your waist. “The Seahawk is irrelevant.”

He could feel the hitch in your breath and, for the first time, realized that perhaps he had you enraptured just as you did him. That instinct took hold of him again and he didn’t bother pushing it down; he placed a second kiss right on the edge of your gown’s fabric, half of his mouth making contact with the soft skin of your shoulder.

“I want you,” he repeated, as much for himself now as for you, breathless and giddy and terrified. A third kiss, fully on bare skin, almost to the nape of your neck. It was so illicit, the full contact making it more real than anything else—yes, he was kissing you, you were letting him place his wicked mouth on you, you were encouraging him to do it.

“I want to steal you away.” He let his lips follow up the side of your neck and then along the line of your jaw, a tender, featherlight kiss between every word pressed into your skin, emboldened by the way you turned your head to beckon him closer.

The scene he staged with you was completely profane, servant boy latched to his lady’s jaw, holding her in no decent manner—but he wasn’t a servant anymore, no, he was the pirate king Shigaraki Tomura, here to pillage every treasure within his enemy’s manor, and you were undoubtedly the greatest treasure he’d found.

He removed the hand not wrapped around your waist from your arm to tenderly grasp your chin, turning your head so that his greedy mouth had more access as he continued to breathe out words between kisses. “I want you at my side. I want you to be the first thing I see when I wake. I want you to be mine just as I’m yours.”

He hesitated before he met your lips. The hunger to kiss you for real, that ache he’d had to push down for weeks, roused itself stronger and more powerful than ever before, but he hesitated.

Shigaraki had always been bad with words. You’d always known how to break the silence, elaborate on your thoughts without his prompt, and he cherished that about you. He loved listening to your voice. Actions, though, were his forte—and this long-awaited kiss was an action he’d been craving to take for far too long.

He withdrew. It didn’t escape him how you tried to follow, pushing back against him and raising your hand in an attempt to keep him at your jaw. The feeling of you physically lamenting his retreat spurred him onward as his hands flew to your waist and firmly, quickly, spun you about to face him. He allowed himself a single heartbeat of hesitation to take in the view of your surprised expression—your eyes wide, those teasing lips parted just slightly, head tilted upward towards him. And then just as quickly, just as suddenly, without hesitation or restraint as he threw any semblance of moderation out the window behind you, he drew his hands up to cup your face and finally, finally pulled you into the kiss he’d so desperately been wanting.

If Shigaraki had ever held any kind of notion that his infatuation would be appeased by a single kiss, that once would be enough and his hunger would be satisfied, then he was wildly wrong. It was like this was his first sip of the finest wine and he was now addicted, except that had been the case long before he’d even gotten a taste. He’d become addicted by the mere thought of it, his own imagined fantasies of how it might taste when he finally got it, and now that he was truly digging in at last it was overwhelming and enslaving in the most glorious of ways.

Yet still, that wasn’t quite right, because a fine wine was a luxury and he could live without luxuries. Your kiss was more than a simple luxury; it was a necessity, for now that he’d gotten that first taste he felt he might die if he couldn’t continue having it. The finest of wines wasn’t quite accurate—it was a breath of fresh air, it was the sustenance that kept him moving, it was the very lifeblood pumping through his veins.

Your lips were softer than he could have possibly imagined. The smell of your hair flooded his senses. You were the most heavenly thing he’d ever tasted. And oh, when you sighed, he not only heard the sweet, breathy sound but felt the vibration in his mouth and his hands.

Shigaraki pulled you up further, pressed closer to you. Following the slope of your neck, his left hand migrated downward, and then came to stop with his thumb on your throat, his fingers spread wide across your nape. One of your own hands flew upwards in response, threading through his hair and then tugging desperately.

It drew a noise from him that could only be described as a whine. He might have been embarrassed, except that you seemed to very much enjoy it, if the way you renewed the kiss was any indication. Your lips moved all the more frantically, your other hand coming up to join its twin (his hair was going to be a verifiable rat’s nest when he finally pulled away and damn him if he didn’t wear the messy locks with pride) as you fell backwards until the small of your back hit the windowsill. He felt the bob of your throat under his thumb as you swallowed thickly.

That was what got him to pull away—not a desire to end the kiss, but a sudden urge to latch his mouth onto that throat you so indecently exposed to him.

He moved his thumb to place his lips there, open-mouthed and wanton. His other hand dropped from your face to wrap itself once again around your waist, pulling your whole body flush against him. And he spoke again, breathless, murmured against your delicate skin, raw and unrestrained and throwing caution to the wind.

“Please,” he begged, no longer caring how weak he might sound because he wanted you to know just how damned weak you made him. “Please, come with me. I need you. Please.”

“Yes,” you breathed in response, hesitation kissed from your very mind. “Yes. I’m yours.”

Two simple words. It was all you ever had to say.

Surging back upward, Shigaraki captured your mouth again with a kiss somehow more searing and frenzied than the last, relief and euphoria and enthusiasm buzzing in his veins—you said yes, you wanted to come with him, you needed him like he needed you.

Your hands left his hair. He whined again—any loss of your touch was devastating—but that devastation was nothing compared to the way he felt when those hands came to his chest and gently, but firmly, pushed him away.

He was panting when he followed your silent request. He almost felt like a fool for how much his heart plummeted, standing there looking at you silently. His heart beat heavily in his chest and he counted the beats as you regarded him with a soft expression.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you said finally, voice thick with some heady mixture of desire and apology and endearment. “You look like a kicked puppy. We can kiss all we want on your ship, captain. But we can’t stay here.”

Oh. He quite liked the way you called him captain. He tucked that into the back of his mind to bring up later. Of course he knew that the two of you had to leave, but couldn’t he have just one more kiss? He’d waited so very long. He’d been so very patient.

Apparently, like always, he wore that sentiment on his face, because you raised your hands to cradle his face as he had yours when he initiated that first kiss, and leaned in. He closed his eyes, anticipating the feeling of your lips once more, but they didn’t fall on his—they fell upon his nose, which scrunched up at the sensation.

Then you were gone.

His eyes shot open. You were no longer standing between him and the window. He whirled around frantically (really, what had you done to him—Shigaraki Tomura,the pirate king, lost and desperate when you weren’t in eyesight) but he found your form moving towards your desk. He met you there swiftly and snaked both arms around your waist so that he could bury his head into the back of your neck.

“What are you doing?” he asked. “I thought we had to go.”

“I’m writing a note. To Keigo. I figured you might want to sign it.”

“Oh?” Shigaraki pulled up, resting his chin on your shoulder to read what you were hastily penning down.

He didn’t bother trying to bite back his grin. You were brutal, scathing yet so brief as to be dismissive. It was hardly three sentences long, a simple goodbye and good riddance. Then you signed your name (your name, oh your name, he mouthed it into your shoulder as you wrote, already so sweet and natural on his tongue despite not vocalizing it just yet) and held the quill up to him.

Shigaraki took it, not bothering to let you go as he signed his own name right below yours, the ink merging with the dried letters above to create a beautiful union.

“It’ll burn with the manor if we leave it here,” he said into your neck, having turned his head back into it before he’d even set down the quill.

“I was planning to leave it in the foundation outside for him to find.”

The fantasy played in his mind’s eye: Takami racing home in his ship far too late to do anything at all to stop it, coming through the town and up the cliff to the smoldering remains of what used to be his opulent manor, just the stone foundation and charred wood left—and your note, tucked away for his keen eye to find, telling him that his fiancé had left with a servant boy who was really the pirate king, a story corroborated by the mouths of the staff who would let him know that the man had gone by the name Shimura Tenko.

“You’re so perfect.” Shigaraki pulled away (as much as he didn’t want to) trailing his hand down your arm until it found your palm and then lacing his fingers with yours. He used your interlaced hands to guide you away from your desk, lifted yours to his mouth, and placed a kiss on your knuckles—then he turned it over and landed a second on the inside of your wrist.

“We’re never getting out of here,” you whined.

“You should stop distracting me, then.”

“Only if you stop getting distracted by me.” You leaned in, batting your eyebrows in an exaggeratedly coquettish manner that probably shouldn’t have made his heart skip a beat the way it did.

He raised his free hand to press his pointer finger teasingly against your forehead and push you away, just slightly. “Brat.”

“Am I no longer your lady?” You poked out your lower lip, and Shigaraki had an overwhelming urge to kiss away the pout you were giving him.

He blinked instead. Then he turned towards you fully, grasping your other hand to lace your second set of fingers with his, and looked down at you with an impish grin. “I thought you didn’t like the titles?”

You cocked your head, giving out a low hum that indicated you were pondering. Then you lunged, gripping both his hands stronger to yank him down so that you could connect your lips with his.

The kiss was sweet but over far too soon, lingering and leaving him wanting more as you pulled away—and promising more, more which he could hardly wait to partake in when the two of you finally made it to the Decaying Lady.

“It’s grown on me coming from these lips,” you sighed. “I quite like the sound of being your lady.”

“Do you now? Well, then,” he let go of your hands to grab your waist and lift you up.

You let out a noise, something between a slight yelp and a giggle, that made him lean in to kiss your throat again. The way it faded out, became breathy and giddy, was something he’d dreamed about—but the reality was far better.

He started for the door, your arms coming to wrap around his shoulders as you continued to laugh and enjoy his sudden insistence on carrying you. “Let me take you to my ship, my lady.”

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cometchasms · 3 years

Text

I'm realizing a pattern with the people my weak pan ass hardcore simps for. Mainly Belphegor (Obey Me) and Lady Dimitrescu (Resident Evil 8) cause those two straight own me

Both are taller than me

Both aren't human (then again I don't normally simp for human characters)

Both are deviously hot af

Both are murderous (one already attempted to kill me and that was the moment I officially fell in love with him)

And both could stab me and I'd probably thank them for it (while also keeping the knife as a souvenir.)

They have me wrapped around their fingers and I'm fine with that.

#Chasm rambles #Obey Me #Obey Me Belphegor #Resident Evil 8 #resident evil lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #Look man I'm smitten with these characters and these reasons are probably why #I'm weak for tall /evil/good looking people #Im just overall a weak simp whos head over heels for my Demon Boy and Tall Lady #Yall can ignore this if you want just me being a simp that wants to gush about the two characters I'm in love with

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taylor-will-be-the-death-of-me · 2 years

Text

A kiss to build a dream on

Regulus's POV

Since the Yull ball is approaching everyone needs to have dates and to say that this whole school has been filled with nothing but teenager's hormones running wild would not even sum it up. All the guys are way to busy checking out the girls asses and all the girls are giggly and smilely. It's disgusting.

"So who're you gonna go with?" Asked Evan.

"I don't know. I probably won't even go?" I replied while walking towards the carriages which will take us to Hogsmeade.

"What?" He asked loudly. "Why?"

"I don't know. guess I just don't want to go."

"Why do want to deprive the ladies of a night out with the hot young Mr. Black?" He said wiggling his eyebrows.

"I just do not know, okay Evan."

"You wanna go with her don't you?" He asked stopping abruptly.

Stopping as well I asked "Who are you talking about?"

"Her." He said pointing at Y/N Potter who was walking along her friend laughing and holding a book in her hand. My silence was exactly the answer he needed.

"How do you know?" I asked as we started walking again.

"I'm not as blind as Luscious." He replied as we reached the only carriage. "Go tall to her."

"What?" I asked as he pushed me towards Y/N who was standing alone now.

"Hey Y/N" I said as I reached her. "Everything okay?"

"Oh, yeah yeah everything's fine." She replied and when she spoke it was as if the angels had spoken.

"Where're your friends?" I asked.

"With the Gryffindor golden boys. They took the carriage. Do you mind if I sit with you and your friend?" She asked and without a moments hesitation I said-

"No, not at all."

As we all sat down in the carriage, Y/N sat next to me and Evan in front of us. Half of the journey was filled with awkward silence till Evan said.

"So how do you know dear little Reggie here?"

"Um.. we met while doing our rounds." She replied.

"Oh we actually met on the train, remember. You were reading Little women and I said that I liked Amy and Laurie better and you absolutely freaked out." I corrected her.

"I did not freak out." She fake gasped while looking at me. "I just didn't like your opinion."

"Well it's changed now?" I replied.

"And who's that because of?" She said while weirdly wiggling her eyebrows. God she looks like a dream.

"You even remember how you met?" Said Even. "You are simping my friend." He said chuckling while I just burned hot red.

"Aww are you simping for me?" Asked Y/N with a smile on her face and her baby voice on.

"In your dreams Potter." I replied.

She just laughed and then turned her head towards Evan "I'm sorry, I didn't really catch you name."

"Oh its Evan." He replied.

"Nice to meet you Evan." She said with a smile.

"So Potter, have you gotten around to knowing what's in the golden egg you stole from the dragon?"

"Well my friends and I, we opened it but it was just screeching." She replied.

"Well if you are in an enchanted competition, then surely the clues you get would be enchanted as well." I said.

"We thought so to, but we just didn't get the answer."

"Don't worry, you will."

When we reached Hogsmeade I really wanted to go with Y/N but I had no idea what Evan would think. Before I could open my mouth to ask him he said "Go. I'll cover for you."

"Thank you, so much." I said walking towards Y/n. "I owe you."

"Yeah you do." He replied.

When I reached her I took the book from her hand and read out loud "The Great Gatsby. What's this about?"

"Many things." She replied.

"Do you have to meet your friends?" I asked.

Before she could answer her friend, Ethan came up to her and said "I know you wanted to got o your music shop today, but your brother and his friends have invited us to hang out with them and your brother and his friends are really hot."

"What are you trying to say?" Y/N asked.

"I'm saying that we want to spend time with them, so you can join if you want."

"I think I'm fine. I'll stay with Regulus today." She declined Ethan's offer.

"Okay cool, but just know that James will not be happy." He said wile walking away looking at us.

"James can piss off."

With that we both started walking. Not really sure where we were going as I had not seen this place before, I asked "Where exactly are we going?"

"Miles's music store. Have you ever been there?"

"No. I haven't even heard about it before.

"Ohhh we are defiantly going now." She said as she took my hand in hers and ran to a little shop at the end of the village. When we went inside there was no one there.

"Um.. where is the owner?" I questioned.

"Oh he would probably be in the back. Don't worry, he won't say anything." She said as she started looking through all the albums that were kept there.

I moved to one of the shelves and started looking at them as well. I didn't really know any of these artists because all I was allowed to listen to was classical music.

"Ah ha." Said Y/N as she turned around with an album in her hand. It read La Via En Rose. "This is absolutely amazing. Its one of my favourite albums ever."

"I've never heard of it." I said as I followed her to the big gramophone in the middle of the shop, hidden from the outside world.

"What kind of music do you listen to?" She asked as she got ready to play the songs.

"I-I really don't listen to music at all." And with that she stopped doing what she was and started at me with shock on her face.

"Why?" She asked in a soft voice.

"My parents think that the only music that deserves to be heard is classical. They don't like anything else and because of that I can't listen to anything at all." I replied looking at my shoes.

She put one hand under my chin which mad me look up and said "Well let's change that shall we"

After a few minutes of listening to songs, I was having the time of my life. She was sitting on one of the big armchairs reading her book peacefully as I was stretched out on the bigger sofa, listing to the deep voice of Louis Armstrong soaking up the words.

As the piano in a song started I heard a gasp from Y/N. Looking up at her I saw her mouthing the words to the song. Seeing the way she was bopping her head to the song, I got up and made my way to her.

Standing in front of her I put out my hands and said - "May Ihave this dance mademoiselle?"

"I don't know how to dance." She said.

"Don't worry. I'll help" I said having her hand in one of mine and putting the other on her waist.

"Put your other hand on my shoulder and don't look down."

Give me a kiss to build a dream on

And my imagination will feed my hungry heart

Leave me one thing before we part

A kiss to build a dream on

As we were dancing I couldn't help but admire her face. I may have been staring too long as she looked up at me with a weird expression.

With the sweet words and strong voice of Louis Armstrong, my eyes trailed down to her lips, so perfect. I couldn't begin to think how sweet they would taste or how soft they would be.

Looking in her eyes again I was asking for permission. Permission to fell he close to me, permission to know how it feels to be kissed not because someone wants to fuck you but because someone actually likes you for you. Her answer was nothing but her leaning in closer to me.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I felt her lips on mine. As soon as they touched fireworks exploded all around us, violins started playing, it was the perfect scene out of a movie. But perfect things can't stay perfect for long.

"Hey. Who's in-" we heard a voice and puled apart. "Oh my sweet baby Jesus."

As we looked at the place where the voice was coming from, we saw a short man with a big beer belly and few hair on his head. He had the expression of shock on his face.

"Y/N" He gasped. "What are you doing here?"

"Snogging." Said another voice that belonged to a women with short blond hair and green eyes. "Hi."

"Hi, Daisy." Said Y/N in a small voice.

"Who's your friend?" The man asked.

"Um.. This is Regulus. Regulus this is Miles and this is Daisy." She said pointing at them as she spoke.

"I had no idea you were coming tomorrow." Said Miles as he walking around to the desk he had and rummaged through it. "If I did I would have kept the mix tape I made for you outside."

"It's alright Miles." She said. "I sold get going anyway."

"Yeah you gotta go and snog your friend don't you?" Said Daisy which made both Y/N and me flush.

"I'll see you next time I come here." Said Y/N walking out with me following her out. "Bye."

We walked in silence a bit as we were roaming the vacant streets of hidden parts of Hogsmeade. Soon it became very awkward. Deciding to break the silence I started "So um.. should we talk about what happened?"

"I- I don't know what to say." She replied.

"Was I that bad?"

"No. Not at all. I just have no clue where this leaves us, because we don't know each other that well. I mean yeah I know that you are the prefect of your house and that you have shitty friends but I don't what your favourite colour."

Chuckling I replied "If you give me a chance, and that's a very big if, I can tell you everything you need to know." I said standing close to her.

"Everything?" She whispered coming near as well.

"Everything."

A/N-

Happy New Year everyone!!!!!!!!

#regulas black #regulus black #regulus headcanon #regulus black x reader #regulus x y/n #remus lupin #james & peter & remus & sirius #marauders era #marauders imagine #regulus x you

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angryfistman · 3 years

Text

kyotani x reader

No warnings

Summary: comfort with angry boy

Gender neutral reader

———————————————————————

Being friends with the big scary mad dog wasn’t as bad as other people were lead to believe. He’d occasionally share his lunches with you when you forgot yours (although you couldn’t get away from getting scolded by him.) He’d text you every morning to make sure you did your homework (so he could copy it.) Generally he’d always be there for you in his own way. Sure he wasn’t the most typical friend and maybe not always the nicest, but he was your friend nonetheless.

He knew you wouldn’t last with your current boyfriend. He made sure he told you that multiple times, much to your dismay. That is NOT something you wanted to hear from your friend. But he kept pressuring you into “just thinking about the future of your relationship with him.” You didn’t believe him when he had said he had seen your boyfriend with someone else. You thought it was just him being petty and overprotective like he had been before. Then he showed you evidence, several pictures and a video of him and the person you were always worried about, all in the same places you showed him and loved to take him to. Yeah. That hurt.

“I wouldn’t lie to you about that kind of stuff idiot” he had told you with a scoff. You really should’ve just listened to him then. Now you weren’t quite sure what to do as he showed you the pictures.

“I- oh. First of all I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.” You told him, genuinely feeling quite bad.

“THATS what you’re more worried about right now? That’s stupid.” He replied.

In response you said, “Well I’m going to be honest with you kyo, I’ve kinda been preparing for this since you tried to tell me last week. I didn’t really wanna face it but that night I realized it really wouldn’t be a stretch with the way he’s been acting.”

“The way he’s been acting? Have you been worried about this? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well you can’t exactly get mad at me! You were the one continuously putting my relationship down and doubting him! So my first reaction when I had troubles is obviously not going to be to go to you. Even if you were right in the end.” He scoffed at that.

Kyotani isn’t the best at dealing with emotions. His or others. So the only way he knew how to help was by saying,

“You wanna go check the park to see if they’re still there and you can watch me beat his ass?”

You laughed and responded,

“You know what? Honestly yeah let’s do it. Though I warn you I might get to him first.”

He smirked at that and gently shoved you forward to start walking to the park.

“What are you gonna do if we actually see him?” Kyotani asked. You sighed and thought about it for a minute before responding,

“I guess we will find out wont we. I haven’t really been in that situation before and it depends on how they react.”

“Makes sense.”

After about five minutes of walking you reached the park. Kyotani led the way to where they had been earlier in the day and then you saw them. Just like in the pictures, they were hanging out in the place beneath the trees you had shown him a month into your relationship. That kind of stung.

Before you could stop yourself you walked up to them and said, “Oh hey! Crazy seeing you guys here! Having fun?” with the biggest smile on your face. All they could do was look up to you in shock before your (now ex) boyfriend started to say,

“Woah hey it’s not what it looks like!”

“Oh really? What does it look like?” You said still with the smile on your face.

“I- uh- I’m sorry!”

“I don’t think you are. I really don’t. Most of the time I wouldn’t waste my time on someone like you but really? Cheating on someone? And one of my closest friends at that?” Kyotani said, stepping towards your ex in a threatening way.

Before Kyotani could actually do anything, you stepped up right in front of him and spit on him. The person he was with said,

“What? Are you a llama? That’s disgusting!”

All you said in return was, “I guess so! Baa bitch! Have fun with someone who cheats I guess! And before you get to say it, I’m breaking up with you dude!” And walked away with Kyotani following close behind you.

“I didn’t think you had it in you to stand up for yourself honestly.” Kyotani said.

“Excuse me? I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself! Plus I think you’ve rubbed off on me. As much as I hate to admit it.”

“That’s dangerous.”

“Tell me about it. Anyways! Wanna come to my house and play the new resident evil game? I could really use some simping for a tall scary woman honestly.” You asked. Kyotani nodded and you both made your way to your house.

After about an hour of playing resident evil and screaming about how much you wanted to marry lady dimitrescu, you had kind of settled down and started thinking about what had happened. You hadn’t really given yourself time to process that he had, in fact, cheated on you and that yall had broken up. Kyotani had noticed you were acting weird and sluggish all of the sudden.

“Hey? What’s wrong? You better not be sad over your ex now.”

“Well how can I not be? We were dating for several months. I’m not all that sad over it! Its just- it’s weird not having anyone to go to now I guess? Like there’s not gonna be the promise of dates or good morning and good night messages.”

“Are you dumb?” Kyotani asked.

“Excuse me?”

“Are you dumb?” He said again.

“You’re not gonna miss out on that stuff. I mean we could always hang out instead and if you really needed me to I guess I could text you good morning instead of just asking for the homework.” He said so nonchalantly that it confused you. You just stared at him with wide eyes.

“Who are you and what did you do with my Kyo!” You said loudly. He scoffed at you for the hundredth time that day and said,

“Well if you’re going to act like that I guess I won’t!”

“Wait wait no I’m sorry!!! Pleaseeee do those things!”

He rolled his eyes at that and said,

“I guess I have to.”

———————————————————————

SORRY FOR NOT POSTING GUYS I AM SO SORRY AGSHAGJAS HAVE THIS LONGER SELF INDULGENT FIC

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smau #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fanfic #kyotani kentaro x reader #Kyotani #kyotani headcanons #kyo #Kyotani x reader #aoba josai headcanons #aoba johsai #aoba josai x reader #kyotani kentaro #kyoutani headcanons #kyoutani x reader

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wornoutmouse · 2 years

Note

can you write a fic abt a flirty y/n being rejected by the boys, but they don’t realize she’s only tryna recruit simps? And they only find out when her reverse harem (any other anime characters you like) visits her at school ? 👀

"THIS IS GETTING RIDICULOUS!" Bakugo yells outraged. "Instead of hiding in the back room like a bunch of scared sissies, we should just go out there and tell her we ain't interested!" Midoriya twiddled his thumbs as he sat at the very edge of the explosive boy’s bed. “We tried man, but it doesn’t work.” Mina rolled her eyes, “The only thing you two ‘tried’ was sending Koda to tell her that she should stop being so aggressive with her affection.” Koda briefly pipped in, “Which she did!” most of the room sent the poor boy an icy glare making him sink into himself. “Well at least for me..”

Kaminari stretched out on the floor, fingertips sparkling with zig-zags of electricity as his fingers wiggled past each other. “Now I am a ladies' man and all, but it really marshes my mellow when a chick doesn’t give me personal space ya’know?” Jirou chimed in with a sarcastic tone, “Oh really? Then why have you not stopped touching everyone in here since this meeting started?”

Chattering stops when a hollow knock is heard on Bakugo’s door. Being the owner of said room, Bakugo sighed as he walked towards his impending torture. There you stood, rocking back and forth on the heels of your foot, chewing gum obnoxiously. “Hey Sugartits!” you slip past Bakugo, taking careful time to jiggle his pecs from underneath before walking carelessly into the room. “Nice room, so what are my gorgeous hoes talking about in here, all secretive from me.”

In an almost impossible way, everyone found a way to avoid your eye contact making a coy grin adorn your face. “Not talking!? Such a shame.” You glance over to Shoji, “Is there anything you want to tell me?” A visible shiver racks down the boy’s body as you drag the very tips of your fingernail up his shirt before curling it beneath his chin forcing him to look at you. “Anything at all?” Saved gratefully by the bell, your phone rings, and everyone lets out a sigh. “At least pretend not to be afraid of me my dears” You wink at Shoji with your lips mouthing the words ‘Almost got you.’ Before you answer your phone.

“Hmm? Oh, you guys are here already?” Your voice and demeanor almost become regal, “Well I hope you’ve done your parts, wouldn’t want to make me upset would you?” You hang up the phone without a word and stand up. The boys sit around each other and look awkward, “I am somewhat curious as to what that was about.” Iida mutters before standing up to peek out of the room. He just barely catches a view of you skipping down the hall before turning the corner. “Well you nerds can go check it out, I’m staying here.” Bakugou muttered, ears red with his arms folded tightly over his chest.

The rest of the gang sneak down the hall and pretend to ignore the fact that Bakugo isn’t closely following in behind them as well. The closer they get to the living room, the louder the low sound of many voices gets. “Did she invite her family?” Todoroki mumbled to himself as he opened the door with no regard to the panicked whispers telling him not to.

The door opens and everyone’s eyes are immediately drawn to the different varieties of clothing taking up the room. “Is that extra wearing a damn kimono in the middle of the Winter?” “That’s pretty many-” “Stop talking Kirishima.” “Okay,”

“Thank you, my dear, I’ll cherish it.” Your voice rings extravagantly throughout the room as you hold a bouquet of flowers to your face, inhaling deeply, before dropping it in another pile of bouquets. “Oh look who decided to join us!”A tall thin blond boy stands up and looks at the U.A students with damn near disgust, “Is their presence bothering you, my dear?” You shake your head, “Tamaki calm down. Glancing over to a boy with a head of hair so white it looked silver, “Zero my dear, why so quiet?” You lean on the black uniform jacket he adorned watching with a hidden smirk as his lips twitched with a small smile.

Everyone, even the girls stood flabbergasted at the sight of these many men ogling you like you were the best thing since sliced bread. All thinking the same thing, “I thought she was just obsessed with me?!” A new mission played in their minds as suddenly they wanted to blush in your presence. Your eyes narrow analiticlay, “Huh, your plan really did work L.” A man who looked severely sleep-deprived slinked from the shadows. “Of course it did, it had a 98.9%success rate.”

#mha imagines #mha x black reader #mha deku #mha au #crossover #black reader #black y/n

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sporadicthingcollection · 2 years

Note

so i wanna know what cad would do if his daughter started getting interested in boys!! like overprotective bounty hunter dad mode lmao.

proof that all cad bane simps share the same brain cells

The Bounty Hunter's Guide to: Unsupervised Outings

Summary: In which the Little Lady tells a little lie of omission, her little brother makes some cash, and Cad Bane gets busted. Pairing: Cad Bane x Reader Rating: General. Word Count: ~3.6k Warnings: None!

Of all the house rules you had, only one stood the longest -- no shooting in the house. And you stood firm when it was pointed out that it’s an apartment, not a house.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to get carbon scoring out of carpet?” you’d said. “Keep it outside.”

Bane didn’t pay it much mind until he was showing the kids a trick shot and karked it up. Three hours, two sponges, and a whole bottle of all-purpose cleaner did barely anything. He ended up rearranging the furniture and swearing the kids to secrecy.

And so, despite the chill in the air, he's set up a few empties on the balcony railing.

Winrel "Bambi" Bane will be a good shot one day. He’s got steady hands, keen eyes, and a mind for on-the-fly calculations. But inherent skill is nothing without practice, and Bambi is a lazy, flighty pre-teen who’d rather be listening to sound slugs. He needs a firm hand.

“Legs wider,” Bane says. “Elbows up and out. Y'ain't stuck in a box.”

The boy takes the advice and squeezes off a shot. The bolt clips the side of the bottle. It spins on its base and falls off the side, landing with a crash below.

He looks to his father, a hopeful smile on his face. But Bane shakes his head.

“Close don't count, son,” he says. “Again.”

The light goes out of the boy’s eyes and he slumps. “Do I hafta?” he whines. He flexes his fingers. “Can’t feel nothin’ below my knuckles.”

“When ya hit one dead center, yer done.” He makes a note to buy the boy some good gloves.

Bambi grumbles something under his breath, but raises his hands. He takes careful aim.

The balcony door opens, and bare, light-stepping feet come padding out. Bane would think it was you except for the fact that the Little Lady's stride is shorter -- poor thing didn’t get the tall genes. Probably for the best, given how gangly her brother is getting.

Two thin, violet arms wrap around his waist to hug him from behind. “Hello, beloved father of mine,” she says, voice syrupy sweet.

He snickers. She only takes that tone for one reason. “How much does it cost?” he asks, craning his neck to peer over his shoulder.

She hops back, a scandalized look on her face. She puts her hand on her chest in mock offense. “Am I not allowed to hug my favorite parent for no other reason than that I love him?”

“Nope.” He turns to her and crosses his arms. “Y’only do dat when yer in trouble or ya want somethin’. So which is it, missy?”

“Well, I'm not in trouble and it doesn’t cost anythin’, so yer wrong on that.” She puckers her lips and folds her hands behind her back to bounce on her toes. “Buuut there’s a li’l carnival uptown tonight. Can I go? Sida’s mum said she’d drive us.”

He raises a brow. “Who’s ‘us?’” He likely already knows, but it doesn’t hurt to ask.

She gives him the same dry look you give him when he asks a dumb question. “Sida, Miry, and Trish. Who else?”

The Usual Suspects, as you’d dubbed them. They’d been friends since primary. The Little Lady was always the ringleader.

Bane takes a deep breath. “Y’ask yer mother?”

“Asked before she left,” she says. “She said yes but to ask you, so here I am.”

He drums his fingers on the butt of his remaining LL-30 -- Bambi has the other one.

He takes a mental inventory of his opinion on them: Sida is a Togruta -- a narrow-eyed schemer, but loyal. Miry is a Zygerrian, good-natured and polite, if not a bit of a pushover. It’s Trish he doesn’t like. Her father is the Imperial sub-governor, and she likes to remind people of that fact.

The shatter of glass knocks him from his thoughts. He turns to see a bottle falling from the balcony and Bambi stomping his foot like an agitated bantha.

“Piece o’ shit blaster,” he spits. “Can’t hit nothin’ straight!”

“Watch yer mouth, boy,” Bane warns. “Ain’t de blaster’s fault.” He returns his attention to his daughter. “You can go, but I want ya home by ten. Got it?”

She claps her hands together and... squeals. She’s been doing that lately. He loves the girl dearly, but stars above, what an obnoxious sound.

“Thanks, Daddy!” she chirps. She throws her arms around his neck, knocking his hat off. She presses her rostrum to his and gives him a gentle nuzzle before releasing him. “Good luck, loser,” she says to Bambi.

Bambi sticks his tongue out at her. “I hope ya get kidnapped.”

"An' I hope yer fingers fall off."

Bane is sometimes genuinely unsure if the kids like each other, and he wonders if Bambi will try to peg his sister with the blaster. But the exchange ends there and she trots back inside, presumably to get herself dressed up.

He watches after her for a moment. The Little Lady isn’t so little anymore, he’s starting to realize. And it hurts a bit -- he’ll never not see her as the little purple baby cradled in his arms, mrrrr-ing sweetly and chirping for attention.

A mischievous chuckle reaches his ears. It's trying to be low and devious, but Bambi’s still a kid and his voice hasn't dropped yet. But the smirk on his lips is unmistakably Bane’s, as if he didn’t need anymore proof that the boy was his.

“I know something you don’t know,” Bambi sing-songs.

And there’s your cheekiness. “Spit it out, den.”

Another chuckle. “Y'always say not to work for free, ol’ man.” He fires another bolt, and it sails past the bottles to hit the building across the way. “Whoops.”

Maybe he’s teaching the boy too well. “Ya don’t make a threat like dat unless de other person knows what yer on about an’ it’s interestin’ to 'em.”

“It has to do with her friends,” he says.

...alright, that is interesting. “If ya tell me, you can have extra dessert.”

He shakes his head. Grinning his sly grin, he rubs his fingers against his thumb. “Fifty creds.”

“Twenty-five,” Bane says.

“Forty.”

Bane shows his teeth. “Thirty an’ I don’t chuck ya off dis balcony.”

Bambi stares at his father. Bane can see the gears turning in his mind, trying to figure out if he’s actually in danger. He’s not -- Cad Bane would never be so sloppy as to rely on a fall that short to kill a target. Not to mention the fact that he'd never see the light of day again if he ever deliberately harmed one of your kids.

But Bambi doesn’t know that. “Thirty and you let me be done for the day.” Bane frowns at him, and Bambi gives him a pleading look. “Daddy, please? I really can’t feel my fingers anymore.”

Bane inhales deeply. “Deal. But you’ll get yer money wit’ yer allowance at de end o' de week.”

Bambi gives him a toothy grin. “Pleasure doin’ business, mister,” he says. He tries to twirl the blaster, but it slips out of his hand and hits the ground with a smack. Father and son both flinch, but it doesn’t go off. Bambi's grin turns sheepish.

Bane just shakes his head. “Now spill it, boy,” he says, squatting to pick up the blaster and his hat.

“The reason they’re going to the carnival is that Trish’s cousin is in town,” Bambi says.

He dusts off the brim and places it on his head. “So?” he says, picking up the blaster.

“He’s a boy. And he's eighteen.”

The blaster hits the ground again. It goes off, shattering one of the bottles.

---

Bane is acting casual on the sofa, pretending to read while Bambi strums his kitarra and you argue with your daughter about footwear.

“But they match my dress!” the Little Lady whines.

It's a fair argument, but you’re not having it. “You’re gonna be on your feet and walking around and playing games,” you say. “This is not a heels situation. Go put on flats.”

“Yer always doin’ stuff in heels!" She sounds like him when he gets mad, he observes. "Ain’t’chu always goin’ on about stealin’ the Jewel of Yavin in heels?!”

You scoff. “In pumps, not heels. I’m not stupid.”

Bambi casts him a look. There’s a difference? it says. Bane nods his head -- you’ve lectured him enough times over the years about it.

The Little Lady whines again. “But Momma--!”

“Mezerel Donnina Bane,” you say. “Go put on flats or you’re not going at all.”

Ooh, you broke out the Full Name. Even Bane winces at that.

With an aggravated huff, the Little Lady turns and marches back to her room. When you hear the door close, your bluster deflates and you flop onto the sofa.

“There’s a curse on Zeltros,” you say. “‘May your son be like his father and your daughter like her mother.’ Never got it ‘til just now.”

He chuckles. “If she’s anythin’ like you, fullua, she’ll be alright,” he says. “The boy, though...”

Bambi frowns as you laugh. You open your mouth to reply, but the doorbell rings.

“That’s for me!” Little Lady comes sprinting out of her room, petulant rage forgotten. She pauses to kiss you on the cheek, then him. She even gives Bambi a playful bop on the head. “We’ll-be-safe-I’ll-be-back-by-ten-I-love-you-both-byyyye!”

And just like that, she’s gone.

You blink after her. “...have fun, Donnina!” you manage. You glance at him. “Does she get that from you?”

Bambi chimes in. “Naw. You do that to Daddy all the time.”

You look to him for confirmation. Bane nods. “He ain't lyin'.”

“Huh.” You shrug, then let out a yawn the likes of which he hasn’t seen since Vincenzo passed, rest his little feline soul. “I think I’m gonna turn in early,” you say, rubbing your temples. “Been sleepy all day.”

He gives you a toothy half-smile. “Need a hand?” he says with a wink.

You laugh your chirpy little laugh. “Thank you, darling, but I’m all set.” You stand and take his head in your hands. You place a long, lingering kiss on his forehead. “...but maybe later.”

Bambi looks up from his strumming to wrinkle his forehead at the pair of you. Bright as he is, Bane is still surprised he hasn’t put two and two together as to what his parents get up to in the dark hours of the night.

He looks like he might ask, but you interrupt that by pulling your son into an obnoxiously tight hug. “And goodnight to my favorite little kitarra-playing bottle-shooting bellissimo bambino--”

He groans in displeasure as you pepper his head with kisses and Zeltrian words of affection, but he doesn’t make any real effort to get away. “Daddy, make ‘er stop,” he whines.

Bane chuckles. "I ain't gonna pry a woman away from her son."

A son from his mother, maybe, but that was a long time ago. And he didn't pry, she handed him over freely...

As soon as you're out of sight and the bedroom door is closed, he stands and walks to the balcony door. He pulls his hat off its peg and places it on his head. "If yer momma asks..."

"I know, I know -- yer gettin' some fresh air." Bambi waves his hand. "I'm no snitch. Just don't get caught. She'll kill ya."

He snorts. "Which 'she?'"

"Both of 'em."

---

The Little Lady scans the crowd every so often, recognizing anyone who might be a threat. Subtly herding her friends away from suspicious characters. Making sure to put at least two people between herself and anyone who might be looking for trouble.

From his spot in the shadows of a speeder trailer, Bane can't help but feel a bit of pride. He trained her well -- not a day goes by where he doesn't regret pushing her harder to go on jobs with him. Bambi's a good kid, but he's never going to beat his old man. The Little Lady, though... she could have given Daddy a run for his money.

But she's got her mother's distaste for dirty work. She likes a quick, easy payday, not getting down in the blood and blaster fire. At least she keeps up her target practice. The galaxy is a dangerous place for a young woman, and there’s bound to be sleemos lurking in every corner.

Like the one he's choking now. A Human male he'd spotted leering at the girls. Bane snatched him by the collar and hauled him into the shadows, wrapping his arms around his throat in a blood choke.

Overkill? Not at all.

He lets the man hit the ground and slinks out of the shadows into a new set, a narrow alley between done buildings. He taught his girl well, but he's got experience and has been able to avoid her scanning.

Something clanks above him, and he looks up just in time to see someone clambering off of a fire escape and over the edge of the roof.

He frowns. Now that's just suspicious.

He activates his boots and shoots upwards, grabbing the edge and hauling himself upwards.

A figure in a heavy coat lurks in the shadow of a water tank, peering through a pair of macrobinoculars gripped in well-manicured hands. They're squatting in pumps, managing to stay perfectly still...

...Wait a tick.

He sidles up to the figure quickly and quietly, hovering right over their shoulder. The sweet, faint smell of flowers hits him.

He grins. "Evenin', missus," he purrs.

You let out an adorable yip of surprise as you whirl around, dropping the macrobinoculars and immediately going for your blaster. You squeeze off a shot from the hip, but he dodges easily.

You go to fire again, but he slips under your arm and grabs your wrist. He pulls you against his body and dips you down, twisting your hand just enough that you drop the blaster.

Ah, the look on your face is beautiful. Wide, panicked eyes and lips open in a perfect little circle. He can't resist a taste.

You go rigid, only to relax as soon as you realize it's him. You wrap your arms around his neck and push up into him.

Every bone in his body is telling him to take you right here -- this is the best foreplay he's come up with in a while. But he's on a mission, and he pulls away from you with a wet pop, straightening up.

Your lips twitch as you try to frown at him, but a smile wins out. You give his cheek a weak slap. "I almost shot you, jackass," you say.

He huffs a laugh. "You couldn't de broad side of a bantha," he says. He picks up your blaster and hands it to you. "Guessin' we're both here for de same party."

"Looks like it," you say. Your smile vanishes, turning into a sneer of disgust. You poke his chest. "But I'm here on a tip, not just because I'm an overprotective parent."

He realizes immediately what happened, and he's honestly too impressed at the duplicity to be mad. "How much did ya pay Bambi fer it?"

“Twenty-five--” Your brows shoots up as you also put the pieces together. "...that kid's going places,” you say, impressed. “Probably prison, but definitely places.”

He snorts. “Not if he listens to his ol’ man.” He picks up the macrobinoculars. “You see ‘em?”

You return to your squat. “They’re outside the malt shop with the striped awning. Miry got melonade spilled on her so Sida is helping her wash up.”

He spots the awning and, beneath it, the kids. Trish is talking animatedly about something, and the Little Lady laughs every so often as she sips a chokecherry phosphate.

The young man looks a bit like Trish. He sits with the chair leaned backwards on two legs, his feet up on the patio railing.

"He seems above board, but who sits like that?" you say. "Weirdos sit like that."

He lowers the macrobinoculars to give you a dry look. You backpedal immediately.

"I mean, I don't mean you--" You roll your eyes at him. "Oh, come on. We're a burglar and a bounty hunter on a roof spying on our daughter after our son snitched on her. What part of that isn't weird?"

He shakes his head at you, then returns to the macrobinoculars.

Nothing has changed in the thirty seconds since he looked away. Sida is still talking, the boy is still sitting...

...and the Little Lady is staring right at him. She turns away quickly, but he knows he's been spotted.

Busted.

---

He returns home with you around quarter to ten. The lights are all off, so you both assume the Little Lady isn’t home yet and Bambi is fast asleep. You enter quietly, him close behind you.

The light flips on, making both him and you wince.

The Little Lady sits in the recliner, arms crossed and frowning deeply. She looks between him and you several times, waiting for someone to talk.

He goes first. "I think we're s'posed to be de ones waitin' fer you to come home."

She doesn't appreciate the attempt to diffuse the situation. "What's wrong wit' you two?!" she says, jumping to her feet. "You were spyin’ on me de whole time!"

"Not the whole time--" you start.

"See, Daddy I expected. He's always slinkin' 'round like a schutta.” She jabs a finger at you. “But you?! I thought you were de sane one!"

You bristle slightly. "Don't talk about your father that way,” you said. You cross your arms. “If you’d been straight with us about who was going with you, we wouldn’t have tailed you.”

“I was straight with you!” she says. “I was wit’ Miry an’ Trish an’ Sida.”

“An’ a fella neither of us have met,” Bane says.

Speaking of fellas, a bleary-eyed, pajama-clad Bambi comes slinking into the living room, rubbing his eyes with one hand and clutching his teddy bantha in the other.

The boy doesn’t get the chance to speak before the Little Lady whirls on him. “Ya li’l fink!”

She dives at him, but Bane snatches her out of the air. Bambi doesn’t even flinch, just wrinkles his brow and blinks as Bane holds her back.

“Easy, missy,” he says.

She hisses a short, quick spit at him. He curls his lip and hisses back, but she keeps squirming, trying to get at her brother. He pins her arms to her sides and hisses long and loud enough that her eyes go wide and she falters. A little chirp of submission escapes her, and her cheeks flush in embarrassment as he releases her.

Beside him, you roll your eyes and mutter something about being surrounded by lizards. “Look, everybody sit down so we can talk this out.”

Bambi raises his hand. “Can I go back t’ bed? This seems like a ‘you guys’ problem.”

Bane shakes his head. “Sit, boy.”

The boy groans, but slinks over to the couch.

---

It’s a productive conversation. You do most of the talking -- you’re better with words than he is, explaining why the kids ought to tell the whole truth so Momma and Daddy don’t think they’re hiding anything. He just sits and gnaws on a toothpick, nodding at appropriate intervals when a point needs emphasizing.

“You two don’t realize it yet, but the galaxy is a scary place full of people who might want to hurt you,” you say. “You’ll both be independent and capable of defending yourselves one day, but until that time comes, it’s our job to keep you safe. Got it?”

“Yes, Momma,” both children say.

“That being said...” You take a deep breath. “You’re our kids and you’re gonna do illegal things without telling us. So if either of you ever end up in an unsafe situation, call me or Daddy to come get you.”

Bambi tips his head. “Like what?”

You purse your lips. “Like... if you got to a party and you drink something and you start feeling sick. Or someone breaks out deathsticks. Or--”

Bane chimes in. “Or ya get kidnapped by gangsters and need someone to come rescue you.”

You start to nod, only to shoot him a dirty look. “Once. That happened once.”

“An’ as long as ya keep me ‘round, yer never gonna hear de end of it.”

The kids both giggle, and you roll your eyes. You stand up. “Alright, enough lecturing. Everyone go to bed.”

Bambi scrambles to his feet and nearly trips over you on his way out of the room. The Little Lady is slower, waiting until she’s alone with him to speak. “Sorry I hissed at you,” she mumbles.

He chuckles as he stands. “It’s instinct. Gets easier t’ control when yer older.” He places his hand on her hand and gives her a pat on the crown. “Go rest up.”

She blinks at him, then wraps her arms around his torso, sticking her face in his chest. “Love you,” she says, voice muffled.

He’s never going to get used to hearing that. Not from you, not from her, not from anyone. Every single time, it will make his heart swell and his throat close a bit. At this point, it’s a bit frustrating.

He clears his throat and forces some roughness into his voice. “Love ya too. Now shoo before yer momma yells at both of us.”

The Little Lady pulls away from him, smiling. With a little wave, she trots off to her room.

---

"Catch Us If You Can Masterpost" | To the Mastahpost | Tip Jar

#thanks for the ask!#cad bane #dad bane #cad bane x reader #cad bane x oc #star wars #catch us if you can #99 problems #emberly writes #emberly speaks #fanfiction

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lonely-lost-soul · 3 years

Text

First Lady of the Court Pt. II

(Wilbur Soot x Reader) Part I, Part II, Part III

Part 2: Moments

The first time Tubbo snuck you out of the city it was like a breath of fresh air. Schlatt was on your last nerve while you tried to keep everything else together. Your duties included collecting unfair taxes, answering questions from concerned citizens, getting Schlatt cigars and booze but you tried to keep your main focus on watching over Fundy. While Fundy was on Schlatt’s side now you still wanted to keep an eye on him for Wilbur, trying to sow the seed that this wasn’t the best decision in the world. Plus Fundy always saw you as a mother figure so you hoped you had a little bit of influence over him and his actions. Although you never wanted to replace Sally, his actual mom, he still looked up to you like one and you treated him as a son. You let the breeze tickle your cheeks as Tubbo led you towards Pogtopia, you were disappointed seeing you were now headed inside of a cave and couldn’t stay in the fresh air. Did they need to make their base an underground bunker? You supposed that logically, it did make the most sense, considering they were in hiding from the government.

“Be careful okay?” Tubbo smiled over at you, “There are no railings or anything I don’t want you to fall. I think Wilbur would kill me!” You nodded as he led you down the steps of the cavern, you were in awe at the lights that were set up all around you. It was amazing what they managed to do in such a short amount of time. While you were away from the boys Tubbo managed to fill you in on who Technoblade was and would constantly update you on what Tommy and Wilbur were up to. You couldn’t wait to experience everything they created in person. “Hey, guys it’s me!” Tubbo shouted his voice echoing off the walls of the cave, “I brought a surprise.” He flashed a big smile in your direction, his eyebrows wiggling at you suggestively.

“A surprise?” Tommy raised an eyebrow stepping out into the open and once he caught sight of you he let out a loud shrieking laugh. He ran over and tossed his arms around your neck, you were much shorter than him so the hug was a little awkward but you appreciated it nonetheless.

“Hi, Tommy. I missed you too.” You hugged him back with a squeeze and a soft giggle of your own, “You holding up okay?”

“I’m gonna be much better when we get Manburg back from Schlatt’s clutches. God, it’s so good to see you, women, I can’t believe I’m saying that! Wilbur’s gonna lose his shit! WILBUR GET IN HERE!”

“Shut up Tommy I’m coming, I’m coming.” Wilbur groaned walking into the room, his trenchcoat floating behind him. “What exactly is so important. I was in the middle of something rather importannnnnnn- (Y/N),” He sputtered jaw-dropping as he saw you. You looked just as beautiful as he last remembered you, the bags under your eyes were new, as was the suit, but other than that you were the epitome of a goddess in his eyes. Meanwhile, he looked like a homeless mess covered in dirt and grime, hair a greasy mess, clothes tattered. Wilbur never wanted to die more than he did at this moment.

You didn’t care about any of that though he was still your Wilbur, you could tell by the look in his eyes that he was. “Hey, Wilby long time no see.” You walked up to him and wrapped him in a hug, you pressed your head to his chest, “I missed you so much.” Your voice was soft, as you squeezed your eyes shut, you felt the ex-president tense up in your hold.

Oh god did he smell? He totally smelled. Wilbur prayed that he didn’t smell, could you tell how fast his heart was beating? He hesitantly ran a hand through your hair and caressed it softly, it was just as soft as he remembered. He missed it more than he ever would’ve imagined.

“I missed you too my darling,” He whispered, “so much. You have no idea.” Wilbur looked up to see the smirking faces of Tommy and Tubbo and his face turned bright red. They both were mouthing ‘simp’ at him, well it was more Tommy than Tubbo but still. He glared at his companions and pulled away from you, “Let’s go talk in private okay?” You tried to turn around to glance behind you but Wilbur only dragged you away so you couldn’t get a good look at the teenagers. As soon as the two of you were alone Wilbur cupped your cheeks and pressed an almost desperate kiss against your lips. You sighed happily into it, grabbing the collar of his trench coat to hold him close to you. Wilbur rested his head against your own and after a few minutes of silence he finally spoke up, “How’re you doing?”

“Usually that’s asked before you kiss.” A smirk was planted on your lips as you reached up and twirled his curls between your fingers. He burned red up to the tips of his ears and he nudged you while scoffing, “I’m hanging in there Wilbur. I’m stronger than I look, remember that.”

“And Fundy?” Wilbur asked a bit hesitantly, “I’m sure he has no desire to know about me and I guess I don’t deserve to know about him but even so…”

“He’s doing good...he’s very… I guess confused is the right word. He’s desperately trying to gain Schlatt’s approval, I think he just to make someone proud-”

“I’m proud of him!” Wilbur tried to argue and you shushed him softly,

“I know Will, I know. But does he know that?” You raised an eyebrow as he shrunk in on himself. “I’m looking out for him though so try not to worry, he still seems to tolerate me.” Wilbur looked relieved at the fact that you were still in Fundy’s good graces and were keeping an eye on him.

“You’re an angel, (Y/N). When this is over I’m gonna marry the shit out of you.”

“Oh stop.” You tossed your head back with a laugh, your (h/c) hair falling in front of your eyes shyly. Wilbur could only smile at you as he pushed your hair out of your face to kiss your nose.

“Now tell me everything you know about Schlatt and his band of misfits.”

---

The second time you snuck out with Tubbo was the day before Schlatt’s festival. Tubbo spent the entire day decorating for it and with your help, the both of you managed to get the decorations up in a timely manner. Sometime after the preparations were complete Tommy requested to meet up with Tubbo. Immediately you pleaded with Tubbo to let you go with him but he seemed very hesitant to let you join. He told you that the last time he visited Pogtopia Wilbur was acting very strange and he didn’t want you to get hurt by him in any form. You were flattered that you had him looking out for you but you assured him that Wilbur would never hurt you and that talking to you might be positive for his mental health. Tubbo gave you a tense smile and interlocked his hand with yours,

“I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I won't, I promise. Plus I’ll have you to protect me if anything goes wrong.”

“I appreciate that but I am very weak,” Tubbo sheepishly smiled scratching at his chin, his face turning slightly pink. You tossed your head back and laughed, as you squeezed his hand tightly,

“Okay, I’ll look out for both of us then.”

You both had to sneak past an overzealous Fundy who wanted mother-son bonding time but eventually, you shook him off your scent and made your way into Pogtopia. Tubbo called out your arrival and once again Tommy beat Wilbur in greeting you at the entrance. You frowned seeing that he looked a little worse for wear, the bags under his eyes were darker and a clear indicator that he wasn’t sleeping very well. Your motherly instincts kicked in automatically at that moment as you cupped his cheeks in your hands. He made a groan of protest but didn’t pull away from the warm embrace of your hands.

“You look like you haven’t been sleeping, what’s been going on?” You asked and Tommy looked hesitant to tell you which worried you, even more, no one was giving you a straight answer but it all revolved around Wilbur.

“(Y/n)!” Wilbur called as Tommy opened his mouth to answer your question, “It’s so good to see you!” He grabbed you by the waist and drew you into a deep kiss, you couldn’t help but smile into it, you loved this man. “So much has happened, I can’t wait to catch you up. Come, come, let’s talk.” Wilbur led you down the long corridors of Pogtopia, from behind you both Tommy and Tubbo frowned in worry.

“Will she be alright?” Tubbo looked up at his tall friend,

“Obviously she's a badass.” Tommy scoffed but Tubbo knew him long enough to tell that he was just as worried about the girl as he was.

“I missed you, Wilby.” The soft tone in your voice seemed to make Wilbur melt into you, but there was something in his eyes that made you pause. You bit your lip as he placed his hand on your cheek, they were rougher than you remembered but then again it was to be expected. He also smelled like cigarette smoke and wood, the smoke was new and wasn’t necessarily too terrible. After all, you’ve dealt with Schlatt’s smell of alcohol and cigars for months at this point.

“I missed you too my darling, but things have been finally coming up Wilbur. It’s amazing and I know we didn’t get invited to the festival tomorrow but it doesn’t even matter.” Wilbur hummed stroking your cheek with his thumb, “Cause something is going to happen that’s going to change everything.” You tilted your head to the side in confusion,

“What do you mean? I mean shit Will I’m happy for you, I want the bastard out of power as soon as possible. He’s an absolute mess.” You gave an awkward laugh, “at this point Tubbo, Quackity and I are running things.”

Wilbur didn’t seem to find that as funny as you did considering that his smile turned into a bitter frown, “He’s ruined everything I built, it’s disgusting.”

“Shit.” You gave another uncomfortable laugh and crossed your arms, “I wouldn’t say he’s ruined everything. After all the country you built is still standing, right now it may have a different name but it’s still there, the people who love it are still there-”

“Tommy and I aren’t.” He snarled at you and you flinched backward in response, you waited for an apology but you didn’t get one. “The people who loved it, who made it what it was aren’t there anymore. They didn’t care about it as I did. It’s MY country,” You glared at him and crossed your arms, your jaw was set in place.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“Okay just making sure.” You wound your hand back and punched him in the stomach, not hard but just enough to stun him, “you son of a bitch! How DARE you insinuate that Tubbo and I don’t care about L’manberg as you and Tommy did. We all lost a life in the control room to Eret! We fought beside you against Dream for the revolution so the country you dreamed of could even come to fruition! We’ve done our best to keep everyone happy when everyone under Schlatt is fucking miserable and you know what we’ve done a damn good job of it! You’re insinuating that Niki and Fundy’s struggles have met nothing to you either, we’ve fought just as much as you have. This isn’t a competition.”

“You’re wrong. It is a competition because it’s MY country!” He grabbed your shoulders, nails digging into the skin, you kissed your teeth in pain. You supposed the pain was justifiable considering you had just knocked him in the stomach. “MY country that isn’t MINE anymore, what’s the point in it even standing!”

“What…?”

“What’s the point in it even standing.” He smiled wickedly moving your hand to brush your hair out of your eyes, suddenly scarily gentle with you, “(Y/N) don’t you get it? The solution was right there the entire time. We blow it up!”

“WE WHAT?! Wilbur are you nuts! People live there, I live there! So does your son? If you blow it up Schlatt’s won!”

“No, I win. We win.” He purred leaning close to rest his head against your own, “We can start a family afterward. You know my love like we always wanted...after everything after the smoke clears. We can be together-”

“Wilbur.”

“We can kiss in the remnants of what once was. Then we rebuild something new, something grand-”

“No.” Your voice quivered in fear, “Wilbur that’s not what I want.” The smile was wiped off his face and his brows furrowed.

“Sorry? Come again?”

“I don’t want it to be gone. I want it as it was-” “IT CAN NEVER BE WHAT IT WAS! CAN’T YOU UNDERSTAND THAT!” He slammed you up against the walls of the ravine, you let out a choking gasp as pain shot down the back of your skull and your spine. A brief glance of old Wilbur flitted across his face, he pulled away from you watching you sink down onto the floor. “I...darling I’m so sorry.” He whispered softly, his hands shaking at his sides, “I never meant to hurt you. Please know that. I’d never hurt you.” Wilbur reached his arm out and you flinched, a heartbroken look spread across his face. “Please...I can’t lose you-” He paused as you raised your hand in a stopping motion,

“Wilbur. You blow up that country, and we’re done.”

“That’s not fair-”

“Me or the country. Your choice.” You snarled, baring your teeth as you rose to your feet, “I love you. So fucking much but I won’t STAND being treated like I’m garbage.”

“You’re not garbage. You’re not you’re my entire world. I-I’m doing this for you and for Fundy and for everyone-”

“You’re doing this for yourself you prick!”

“Am I interrupting something?” Tubbo murmured finally coming into the room,

“Yes-NO.” Both you and Wilbur said simultaneously, you both glared at one another as Tubbo’s ears flattened against his skull.

“We have to go.” Tubbo spoke up, “Schlatt will get worried. Let’s go (Y/N).”

“We aren’t done- (Y/N) please.” Wilbur reached out to you and you shook his arm free from it. You glared back at him and walked past Tubbo,

“Let’s go. See you soon Wilbur.” With one last glance at Wilbur, Tubbo followed you out of Pogtopia.

---

The third time you saw Wilbur was the day of the festival. Schlatt had tricked you all, Tubbo’s head was pressed against your chest as you both were trapped inside his execution box. He had found the both of you out and decided it was the perfect time to get his revenge for your treasonous acts. You were staring death straight in the eyes, and the almost hesitant eyes of Technoblade stared right back at you.

“I’m sorry. I’ll try to make it as painless as possible.” His smooth voice echoed through the chamber, Tubbo only clutched onto you harder.

“Technoblade please.” He tried to plead with the pigman, and Schlatt only cackled loudly in response. Technoblade closed his eyes and shot, you heard a loud snap of the crossbow and saw colors beyond your wildest imagination; in between the chaos you swore you saw a flash of Tommy and hear a cry from Wilbur. You woke up in bed, one single heart levitating above your chest, two cannon lives down, your ears were still ringing from the fireworks moments prior. ‘Tubbo…’ You thought squeezing your eyes tightly, ‘I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you…’ You tossed your legs over the side of the bed quickly tumbling out of it, Tubbo burst through your door moments later. Anxiety was written all over his face but even he knew now wasn’t the time to talk about your interconnected trauma. “We have to go. NOW.” Tubbo motioned to the door with his head, you stood up grabbing what you could momentarily, and ran. The both of you sprinted past a devastated looking Fundy, you made the mistake of looking behind you as he let out a soft,

“Mom?”

You closed your eyes and turned away from the fox hybrid, not before mouthing an ‘I’m sorry,’ in his direction. Tubbo dragged you behind him all the way back to Pogtopia both of you eerily quiet the entire way. Entering the ravine the first thing you heard was Tommy’s ferocious yelling, Tubbo flinched a little and rushed away to comfort his friend the best he could. You noticed Wilbur was scarily silent, as you approached you saw how small his pupils were, the smile on his face was nothing less than mad. It turned your stomach but even so, you wanted comfort from someone you loved, you took his hand and squeezed. Still smiling he looked down at you and kissed the top of your head. It didn’t take a genius to understand he was oddly enthused with what went down between Schlatt, Tubbo and you, the man you once loved was gone.

“My darling, I’m glad to see you’re alright.”

“Do whatever you want. Blow it up.” Your voice was icy and soft so only he could hear you, “Fuck it.”

Wilbur’s smile widened and he kissed you passionately, he tasted like smoke and it was so overwhelming it burned your eyes and almost choked you. He pulled away to rest his forehead against yours,

“You don’t know how happy I am to hear you say those words. You won’t regret this I promise.” He turned towards Tommy and the Blade with the damned smile still on his cheeks, you didn’t respond to him. You felt gross, this isn’t what you wanted, you only hoped when the time came you would convince him otherwise. He began to go on and on about a pit, and a fight between Technoblade and Tommy; supposedly in you and Tubbo’s honor. You watch the two climb into it, even though you knew Tommy was going to get his ass kicked you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Even when The Blade won and Tommy was getting patched up by Niki you could only stare at the flickering torches on the wall, the only person to be able to pull you out of your stupor was in fact, Tubbo.

“(Y/N) it’s gonna be alright. I promise.” You gave a tired nod, stroking his hair fondly he let out a soft whine. “You’re scaring me a little, I don’t like that you’re so silent.”

“I know Tubbo. I know. Everything will work out one way or another. We just have to have hope.” You spoke, but your tone was anything but comforting, it was flat and it chilled Tubbo’s core. He wouldn’t let you turn out like Wilbur not if he had anything to say in the matter.

---

It was finally the day of the Manburg vs Pogtopia war, surprisingly the rebellion had earned a lot more members than you had originally expected. Obviously, you had your core members, Technoblade, Tommy, Tubbo, Niki, and obviously Wilbur and you. However, it seemed Quackity was done with Schlatt’s bullshit just like everyone else, Fundy saw the error of his ways and fought by your and Wilbur’s side as did Eret. As everyone gathered around to discuss the plan, Fundy got your attention with a snap of his fingers, you blinked turning towards him.

“Hi, little champion...how’re you doing?” You smiled towards him ruffling his bright orange hair. He frowned swatting your hands away with a disgruntled huff,

“I’m alright. How’re you doing?” It seemed Tubbo wasn’t the only one worried about your mental health, Fundy’s frown only worsened. “My dad’s a dick.”

“Fundy-”

“No. No, he is and you know it. He’s changed (Y/N), don’t follow him down that path...please. I need you. I can’t lose you too...” Your eyebrows furrowed and you smiled sadly, his words touched your heart and you felt nothing but fondness for the young man. You reached out and cupped his cheek with your hand, his eyes lit up and he nuzzled into it almost desperately.

“You haven’t lost me yet and you won't lose me today.” You assured and he let out a soft breath of relief, “I’m going to do all I can to save your father. I know he can bounce back from this, but if I can’t.” A watery look came across your face and Fundy kissed your forehead quickly,

“I’ll be there to help pick you back up. So will Tubbo we all love you.”

“Thank you little champion.” You spoke, a smile spreading across your lips, his tail began to wag insanely fast. “You stay safe today too, I don’t want to see you hurt or worse.”

“I will. Now come on Technoblade apparently has something to show us.” Fundy hummed holding out his arm for you to take, you did so joining the others. Once you all were gathered Technoblade led everyone to what he called ‘the vault,’ and the vault it certainly was. Everyone was equally as shocked at the sheer amount of gear The Blade managed to gather in such a short amount of time. There were Netherite weapons and armor and in almost every chest were potions and bows for the entire milita. Everyone made a mad dash towards the chests gathering whatever artillery they could find, and taking it for themselves. You made sure all the kids and Fundy were suited up and geared properly before taking what you could for yourself, there was some Netherite left which you applied to your body, you also grabbed an ax and a crossbow of your own. You glanced over at Wilbur and saw him bare, no weapon or armor insight, you furrowed your brow in concern and shook his arm gently. He glanced over you with a hint of the tender expression he used to always look at you with, it made your heartbreak.

“Wilby?”

“Hm?”

“No armor?” You questioned and he brushed a stray piece of hair out of your face.

“No. I won’t need it,” Wilbur hummed as you gave a disbelieving scoff. He chuckled a little at your disbelief and nudged your shoulder, “Trust me. Everything’s going to work out.”

You could only nod your head in understanding even if you truly did not understand his reasoning. The battle was long and bloody, tearing apart Schlatt’s allies was no easy task but Pogtopia managed to get them to surrender. You couldn’t help but be hesitant and suspicious, it wasn’t like Dream to just call off his forces and surrender so easily. You’ve fought against him enough times now to know that, yet Wilbur seemed unperturbed. Even when you all had Schlatt cornered Wilbur only seemed to get a little bit of glee from it, only seeming to feel more when the old ram had a heart attack and keeled over. You all had won but you didn’t feel good. You didn’t feel like it was over, not even when Wilbur took your hands and kissed them lightly on top of the podium beside Tommy and him. It did come as a surprise to you when Wilbur gave up power in favor of handing it off to Tommy, then Tommy gave it up for Tubbo, Tubbo began to give a nervous speech and you couldn’t help but be proud of him. Tubbo would make a great president much better than Schlatt ever was and maybe even better than Wilbur. Tubbo was warm and compassionate he might not even need your assistance as the first lady, honestly, you didn’t even know if you wanted the title again. Although any thoughts of happiness were wiped away as your stomach churned seeing Wilbur sneak away from the crowd, that wasn’t good.

You followed behind your boyfriend on high alert, it’s not that you didn’t trust him, it was just that he was clinically insane. Eventually, Wilbur entered a small room that was cold and dark, you took a deep breath before stepping inside behind him. Your eyes widened in absolute horror, nonsensical scribbles were all over the walls and in the middle of the room sat a familiar button, chills rocketed down your spine. The setup of the room was an all too familiar sight, Eret’s words echoed through your mind and you felt the burn of betrayal run hot. Wilbur’s hands hovered over the button with a longing smile, caressing it like it was the face of his lover. You reached your arm out to call to him but felt a tight hand come around your waist,

“What’re you doing?”

Shock flooded through your system as you looked up at the man touching you. It was Phil, Wilbur’s father, you had only met the man briefly a few times so you both had knowledge of one another's existence.

“Phil?” Wilbur turned around his jaw clenching, “(Y/N)? Shit,” He let out a disbelieving laugh. “You're both trying to gang up on me, that’s just unfair.” He leaned his head back, his beautiful curls falling around his face as he stared at the ceiling. “Do you know what this button is?”

“Uh-huh. I do.” Phil gruffly stated his big grey wings curling around you protectively.

“Have you heard... the song? On the walls? Before? Have you heard the song? I was just saying, I made this big point, it was poignant, and it's um... There was a special place where men could go, but it's not there anymore y'know, it's not-” Wilbur let out a frustrated sigh punching the wall right next to the button. You jumped a little as Phil cut in,

“It is there. You've just- You've just won it back, Wil!”

“Phil’s right! Wilbur, we did it together, we don’t need to blow it up anymore! We can be happy!”

“(Y/N), PHIL, I'M ALWAYS SO CLOSE to pressing this button, Phil! I've BEEN HERE like seven or eight times, I've been here seven or eight times...Phil, I've been here so many times…” All of you jumped a little at the sound of crackling fireworks outside, your body went numb as you remembered the execution, “They're fighting. They're fighting!” Phil and you glanced at one another, there was a beat of silence.

“And you want to just blow it all up.”

“I do,-” Wilbur started before letting out a frustrated sigh, “I think, I-”

“You fought so hard to get this land back... So hard.”

“We all did Wilby. Please listen to us.” You pleaded and he flinched at your tone, it was so tender and loving. He didn’t deserve it, he didn’t deserve your forgiveness.

“I don't even know if it works anymore, Phil, I don't even know if the button works, I could, I could... press it.”

“Do you really wanna take that risk?” Phil laughed, “There is a lot of TNT potentially connected to that button.”

“Phil... There was a saying, Phil. By a traitor. Once part of L'Manburg. A traitor- I don't know if you've heard of Eret? He had a saying...”

“Yeah.”

“Wilbur. Don’t please.” You let out a frustrated cry stepping forward in front of Phil, “I know what you’re about to do. This isn’t you.” He looked at you with such pity he cupped your cheek with your hand, staring dead in your eyes,

“It was never meant to be!” He tossed his hand back and slammed it against the button, you let out a loud cry as explosions fired all around you. Wilbur pulled you close to protect you from any stray debris, he let out a roaring cry “MY L'MANBURG, PHIL! MY UNFINISHED SYMPHONY, FOREVER UNFINISHED! IF I CAN'T HAVE THIS, NO-ONE CAN, PHIL!”

“Oh, my god…” Phil spoke, his voice quivering with horror, Wilbur looked down at you and he captured your lips with his own. Once again he tasted like cigarettes, but there was a hint of warm honey and coffee...a hint of old Wilbur. He murmured a gentle, ‘I love you’ before pushing you away from him and onto the floor. He turned to Phil letting out a loud declaration,

“Kill me, Phil. Phil, kill me, Phil kill me! (Wilbur throws Phil his sword) Phil, stab me with the sword, murder me now, kill me! Killza, Killza, do it! Kill me, Phil! Murder me! Look, they all want you to! Do it, Phil! Kill me! Phil, kill me!”

“I- You're my SON!”

“Wilbur NO! PHIL DON’T!”

“Shut up (Y/N). PHIL, KILL ME!”

“No matter what you- dude, no matter what you've done, I can't-”

Wilbur slammed his fist against the wall, “Phil, it's- LOOK! LOOK! HOW MUCH WORK WENT INTO THIS, and it's GONE!” A loud pause echoed as Wilbur shoved his sword into Phil’s hand holding it to his chest. “Do it. Do it.”

“PHIL DON’T.”

The man ignored you running his sword through his son's chest. Wilbur choked blood staining the front of his shirt before spilling out of his mouth and down his chin. He looked over at you and reached his arm out in your direction. ‘Watch out for Fundy,’ He mouthed before smiling at you, the look would always be ingrained in your memory, the smiling face of Wilbur Soot the love of your life, as the light left his eyes.

“God! You couldn't just let- You couldn't just win! You couldn't- You had to just throw your toys out the pram!” He snarled through tears of his own cradling his son's lifeless body. You crawled over and gently put your hand on Phil’s shoulder, he turned and pressed his head into your chest. The father of the man you loved mourned beside you, not sure what was next for you but both were in agreement that this country changed Wilbur for the worst. It caused him to blow up a nation, hurt his loved ones, something he never would’ve dreamed of doing when he was young. It twisted his mind making him forget what was important to him, you’d never step foot in this crater again.

---

We’re back BITCHES! This is the second part out of I think I’ve decided 3 parts, thank you so much for waiting and being patient. I hope it was worth it! Stay healthy and safe little spirits! @blossom-702 and @mayempress

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