#but its still not to the extent I’d like it to be | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dreamermonica · 1 year

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“how much do you love me?”

in which you question the extent of their love out of the blue.

—includes itoshi sae, itoshi rin, michael kaiser, mikage reo, nagi seishiro, isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, barou shouei

—gender neutral reader, isagi is the only normal one AGAIN, trigger warning for kais*r himself, established relationships, fluff, crack, nagi’s got a bit too real for a sec, some swearing, yeah this is reminiscent of my most popular post on genshinblr what abt it😤

SAE surprisingly ponders your question. years of your random questions getting ignored has its effects, and it is definitely the reason you're now staring at him like a madman, ready to catch his response in an instant. oh my, you think your heart isn't ready for this. what could your lovely and handsome boyfriend say that'll effectively swoop you off your fee—

“as much as one would love a rock, i guess.”

you whine as you throw your head back in frustration, sliding off the couch dramatically, earning him a scoff. “so mean! and unromantic too! pick a disability, not multiple!”

“well, you're as dumb as a rock. can't have too much in this world, unfortunately.”

a pout makes its way to your features, before suddenly switching into a suspicious frown when you see a small smile creeping on his face.

wait...you're as dumb as a rock?

“oh...?” your face immediately looks up at him. “and how much do you love this stupid rock exactly...?”

seeing that you finally caught on his antics, a heart-fluttering chuckle escapes his lips, his eyes shut in amusement as your heart beat quickens at the melodious sound.

“a lot—as in more than anything in this world.”

RIN ignores you. acts like you never spoke in the first place. why? hah, his pride's too high for him to even properly answer that. even if he said something that's relatively joking or teasing, it'd be lying in a way, right? so what purpose would it solve in answering your question? exactly. none. so you get no response, whatsoever.

“rin-chan, answer my question, please?”

radio silence.

“rrrrrrrrrin. rinnnnnn. riiiiiiiiiiin. RIN!”

he still continues on walking, gaze still ahead whilst you struggle to waddle along with his wide strides, opting to grab his arms as to not get left behind.

“itoshi rin! just how much do you love m—”

he places his gloved hand flat against your face, shutting you up as he moves you away from his line of sight. his teal stare still bored and unbothered.

“any louder and you'll attract attention. i don't want paparazzi stuck to us for the rest of the day.”

you narrow your eyes at him as he practically drags you along, legs unable to keep up with his pace. “i don't see how that refrains you from answering my question, though.”

“i won't answer a question you already know the answer to, so shut up.”

you blink twice, swearing you just saw his cheeks go a bit red for a quick second. were you seeing things...?

KAISER, the mischief, always has to edge you on for a bit before giving you what you want. (🤨📸) it's how he functions as a partner—never failing to be an infuriating piece of shit who gets on your nerves whenever he gets a chance. what makes you think now would be an exception?

“hmm...” he hums with that annoying curl of his lips once more, feigning thoughtfulness. “what do you think?”

“more than you love yourself?” you guess expectantly.

but with how he gasps dramatically at you, all your expectations of the narcissistic king drop like dead flies. your expression must’ve also dropped without you noticing, because now, your asshole of a boyfriend is cackling at you. you mercifully resist the urge to hit his annoyingly pretty face as you pout and face away from him with a huff.

“what’s with that glare? i didn’t mean it, you know.” yet he continues to snicker like a child.

“what did i even expect from you…" you sigh, visibly deflating in disappointment as you stand up to leave. “i’m an idiot.”

“yep, you are for even believing i’d—” wrapping his arms around your frame, he pulls you onto his lap with yet another shit-eating grin of his. “—let you go like that. now gimme a kiss, chuu—”

pushing away his exaggerated puckered lips from your face, still glaring at him. “what do you say first, my liebe?”

he chuckles, half of his face flat against your palm that’s pushing him away. “i’m very sorry. i love you more than anything. well, except my side chicks—” your glare turns into a scowl. “—just kidding! i love you, baby. so much that i’d give up anything in this world just to see you smile.”

removing your hand from his face, you finally let him attack you with his kisses.

REO smugly raises his black card. well, it would’ve been a lot more cool and impressive if he didn’t practically jump out of the couch in his pajamas and full-on sprinted to his bedroom to fetch it. was he waiting for this question for a long time now?

“…what’s that have to do with—”

“i love you, as much as the amount within this baby right here. if not, then more!” he slaps the who-knows-how-much card onto the coffee table, gazing at you with excitement not much unlike a puppy waiting for the coos and praises of its owner after fetching them a stick.

adorable. so goddamn cute. ahhhhh. you want to rip your hair out.

“how long were you waiting for this moment…?” why does this scene seem so familiar?

"a long time. i saw this while reading one of the romance novels you had, and i just had to do it.” he smiles sheepishly at you. “was my excitement a dead giveaway or…?”

that explains the feeling of deja vu, then. you remember getting giddy over that specific scene. mindlessly, you snort at the fact that this man has more achievements than anyone you’ve ever known yet he’s still trying to impress you. jesus. he’s so…

you lean over to him, grasping his hand in your own. “you know, you look so kissable right now.”

he perks up immediately. “heh—then, don’t mind me if i do.”

NAGI hums, animatedly tapping away at his game, not sparing you a glance. “would it be bad if i said that question’s a hassle?”

“…? why do you think so?”

“well…you’re only asking that because you want me to say something that’ll uh…make you blush or something right?” he starts, voice remaining bored as ever. “but if i don’t manage to, you’ll be dissatisfied or even use it as leverage to get mad at me to get my attention.”

you frown. “what are you—”

“i don’t mean it in a bad way.” he finally looks at you, a bold ‘victory!’ visible on his phone screen. “it’s not that i’m not willing to indulge you—it’s just that i don’t really know how to be romantic, and i also don’t wanna make you sad so…”

you blink when he performs a beckoning motion with his fingers, silently requesting for you to come near him.

complying with a raised brow, your confusion is immediately replaced by shock, and maybe a tad bit of warmth as the tall boy’s arm wrap themselves around your form, pulling you down with him with a small ‘oof’.

“n—nagi!?” you squirm.

“i love you a lot, [name].” he nuzzles his face onto your hair, his next words a bit muffled as they left his lips. “so don’t get mad at me, please?”

how in the world are you going to get mad at this goddamn sloth when he’s acting like this??

ISAGI blinks. scanning your face for a moment for any uncertainty or insecurity that might’ve influenced your posed question. but when he finds none, redness takes control of his entire face like a infectious parasite.

“why do you want to know?” his voice is meek, most likely caught off guard by such a direct question.

“just curious.” you reply, smiling at the way he seems so wrapped up in your finger despite it being so loose. “you don’t have to answer though. it’s quite an open question—vague and has a lot of possible answers.”

he stares down at his palm, carefully planning out his next choice of words for your inquiry. he really wants to provide an answer, something that shows he’s completely confident in your relationship. but…

how much he loves you? how is he even going to start?

“i’m not really sure how to put it but,” he starts, determination on his expression as he turns to look at you. “i’m certain i love you a lot. not sure just how much exactly but…”

“if it could go by anything, i think about you so much that my first instinct in the morning is to grab my phone and text you a good morning,” he adds on while rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “i-i don’t know. was that a good way of putting it? there’s also the fact that i always unconsciously brew two coffees even when we don’t live together, and oh! there’s also that time i—”

too caught up in his mind to recount the times his love had overshadowed his rationality and normalcy, he fails to see the lovestruck gaze given by a certain someone, completely and utterly in love with the man chatting away that you could probably see hearts in those [e/c] irises.

just wait till you start on sharing your side of the relationship.

BACHIRA grins impishly as he takes out a ruler, pulling down an imaginary board from thin air whilst putting on some nerdy glasses from nowhere. he points the tip of the ruler on an equation, your face now deadpan.

what is he doing…?

“the formula for measuring my love for [name]! note; very easy!”

you snort at his antics, before deciding to play along as you nod for him to continue.

with his ever-present grin, he taps the board with his ruler, adjusting his glasses as if to catch your attention like a typical teacher. “now, [name], can you try to answer this equation for me? these glasses are kinda blurry.”

n-no teaching or guides at all? uhm, okay.

you suck in a breath, gazing at the imaginative board with an unperturbed focus.

[name]’s infinite beauty x [name]’s infinite kindess x [name]’s infinite funniness equals N…what are these variables?

this shouldn’t even be a working equation but if you’re playing with how bachira’s mind works, then…“infinite?”

“yes!" he swoops in lowly and sweeps you off your feet, a yelp escaping your lips as he lifts you up bridal style. “looks like i have to add [name]’s infinite smartness into the equation too, what do you say?”

“whatever you want. but i think i need to mention that infinity isn’t actually a number so i think you’ll have to make a different formula—”

“jokes on you, i won’t let the laws of math deter me from figuring out the estimate of my infinite love!”

BAROU sneers. making quite an ugly face that forces you to be wary if he’s about to spit in your face or not.

“hah, when and where did you hear that i, the king, loved you, a mere peasant??”

raising a brow at him, you quickly throw a glance at the bouquet of flowers delicately placed onto a polishes and refined vase, the glint of its glassy appearance reminding you who it undoubtedly came from, and whom it was given to.

“at the front of that bakery you like, around 3pm on a sunday a few weeks ago, after i gave you flowers, you replied to my confession by saying—” you’re promptly cut off as an oven mitt is unceremoniously thrown at your face.

“what the hell?” he says breathlessly, letting out an unbelieving scoff as he crosses his arms. like a tsundere. “why do you even remember all that? creep.”

“well, you see, it was the first time king barou had bared his feelings towards me. an extremely rare moment, even though we’re basically dating right now.”

his eye twitches. “WHO THE HELL SAID WE WERE DATING?!”

“eh?” your sarcasm is immediately gone. “you said you loved me back, so i thought that—”

“is that why you’re always in my goddamn house unannounced??” he cuts you off, again.

“it’s kinda late to retract my view of our status now though. your sisters really like me as your lover for some reason.”

he responds with a groan, muttering something about how his soccer is now doomed by some outsider. silly king. he doesn’t even notice that he could always kick you out, yet simply chooses not to.

no i didn’t add a part where they’d explicitly have to theoretically choose between you or soccer because lets be fr they’d all choose to kick a ball forever over some head

its 3am rn (no beta we die like men) so if theres a few typos or pronoun and grammatical errors that ive missed, please do tell me!

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ironunderstands · 23 days

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These Aventurine, Topaz and Jade comparisons are getting out of hand…

As much as I adore both of them, I think it’s very disingenuous to compare Aventurine and Topaz’s lore and be like “but they are the same!!!! If people like Aventurine and dislike Topaz that’s just misogyny!!! and like… no?

Topaz’s whole thing is that she doesn’t know the extent of the IPC’s evil, and believes that what she’s doing is genuinely the right thing to do. Even if she never had a choice in joining the IPC, she (incorrectly) believes what they did to her and her planet is justified, logical and moral, and for those reasons she stands with them. Part of this is likely IPC brainwashing, as she was probably very young when she became an indentured servant to them, and someone living on a planet on the brink of destruction would likely view anyone who stepped up to save them as heroes (imo the IPC likely waited for the point of no return to establish contact so her people had no other choice to except).

However Topaz got best end of the proverbial stick, her planet and its people were deemed useful by the IPC, and didn’t fight back, even if in the end they were still exploited.

Unfortunately, we have seen through Boothill, Belabog and Aventurine what happens when that isn’t the case.

Boothill’s planet got bombed and people genocided because they had a resource useful to the IPC, but were unwilling to cooperate with them or hand over their home, so the IPC decided to eradicate them.

Belabog had a debt owed to the IPC that was ridiculously high and very unfair to expect them to pay back, and had Topaz not convinced the higher ups to give them some time (which she got demoted for), the IPC would have taken Belabog by force

That leaves us with Aventurine, whose story is in no way on the same level of bad as Topaz’s. Unlike her, he has witnessed and experienced firsthand the truly awful shit the IPC can do.

They took custody of Sigonia and promised to offer the Avgin aid in their fight against the Katacans, at the very least protect them from harm. (Sidenote, since the IPC held control over Sigonia, they should have stopped the fighting in the first place). However, they simply stood by and did nothing, resulting in the deaths of around 6,000 Avgin, with around 3,000 went missing (or injured, I don’t remember, either way it’s bad).

But wait! It gets worse! Aventurine when he was still known as Kakavasha referred to the IPC as “the men in black/the men in black suits”, and his first master says he bought Aventurine from “the men in black/the men in black suits”, likely mocking the way he referred to them. Therefore THE IPC TOOK PART AND LIKELY EVEN CREATED A FUCKING SLAVE TRADE IN SIGONIA

Look being made into an indentured servant isn’t fun, but idk personally I’d take that any day of the week OVER BEING ENSLAVED

That’s not even to mention how horrible of a reputation Sigonian’s have in the galaxy, one likely spread by/resulting from the IPC themselves, as at least on Aventurines planet they do not have the mobility to make a name for themselves. (Honestly it’s a mini theory of mine that Aventurines scam is what partly contributed to this reputation, and his status as a slave is something the IPC conveniently left out in their broadcast about it-)

But, you might be saying, didn’t Aventurine have a choice to join the masked fools and leave the IPC, isn’t he free now? And to that I say, it’s complicated.

Considering the amount of suicidal shit Aventurine has done while being part of the IPC, he clearly hasn’t been having a fun time as a member of one, so why does he stick around, especially with the Fools invite? Even if he was a slave, does that absolve him of the crimes he’s committing now? What could justify his actions?

Revenge, plan and simple.

This is going to delve into some spoiler territory for the end of the Penacony 2.2 quest, something which I didn’t feel like mentioning earlier because I’m sorry but everyone and their mother already knows Boothill’s lore. Now, let’s get into it.

Aventurine accepts Jades offer to join the IPC, and when he becomes a Stoneheart, the first thing he asks about is the fate of the Avgin, to which he then learns that besides him, they are all dead. You see, from birth Kakavasha was pushed onto a pedestal as the savior of the Avgin, but now that there are no more Avgin to save, his primary motivator in becoming a Stoneheart (beyond not being enslaved anymore) is gone.

So what does he do now?

Simple, try to kill the motherfuckers behind it.

That’s why he takes on such risky gambles still, and why he wagers and wants Diamond to promote him to rank p46. The higher Aventurine gets the closer he gets to his goal of taking down the IPC for good.

Which is why his meeting with Boothill is so meaningful. I think Boothill is going to “kidnap” him and together they are gonna take down the wicked bitch that is Oswaldo Schneider for his literal crimes against humanity.

Mark my words, an IPC downfall is going to happen, and I think Topaz, Aventurine, Boothill and Ratio are going to be at the forefront of it.

However, Topaz and Ratio (and by extension the rest of the galaxy) have to learn/realize the true horrors of the IPC (although I can sense Ratio doesn’t really like them, and he’s learned a lot from Aventurine, I doubt he knows the full extent of the situation or is in any way happy about it). Therefore? Topaz mental breakdown arc? Ratio lore? PLEASE??!? The IP3 compliment one another so well and god I can’t wait for that to come to fruition.

I really want to see a Topaz and Ratio centered story leading up to an IPC smackdown, and I think we are gonna learn a lot more about how shitty they are in the later half of 2.2 and in 2.3 when the interlude and Jades release arrive.

As for the aforementioned Jade, she’s gonna need a Aventurine squared amount of trauma or reasoning behind her actions to seem in any way sympathetic, because right now she just seems like an evil bitch (in a semi good way, I will always respect the commitment to the bit) who loves her job and would make Machiavelli weep over how hard her ends are trying to justify her means.

#honkai star rail #dr ratio #aventurine #topaz #ip3 #aventiopaz #its not necessarily a ship post it’s just these three are an inseparable unit made perfectly for one another and should kiss #Anyways I can’t fucking wait for future updates #DOWN WITH THE IPC we all screamed #jade hsr #2.3 is gonna be peak #2.2 spoilers #boothill #Also this has made me like avenhill #Avenhill #Kill those cunts!

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sugoi-and-spice · 8 days

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For the first time in his life, Tomura Shigaraki has full control of his quirk. With this newfound freedom, there is so much that he wants to do. And it just so happens that you are at the very top of that list.

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x GN!Reader

Rating: Explicit - Minors DNI

Contains: GN!Pronouns, Smut, Soft Shigaraki, Penetrative Sex (Reader Receiving), Oral Sex (Reader Recieving), Pre-Paranormal Liberation War, Post-PLF Manga Spoilers tho, Established Relationship, Alcohol, Massage, League Shenanigans. (Honestly, no crazy CW's with this one lol. It's just fluff and smut and angst lol)

Notes: I tried to write something wholesome to try and heal our mourning Shig-simp hearts... It had mixed results lol.

AO3 Link

Like my work? Please consider commissioning me or contributing to my Ko-Fi!

That seemed a little too easy.

It’s the first thought that crossed Shigaraki’s mind when he came to on the Doctor’s operating table. Don’t get him wrong, the time Ujiko had spent vivisecting him from finger to finger had been hell on earth, but it seemed to go by a little too quickly for four months.

“That’s because it’s only been a week,” Ujiko explained as he approached Shigaraki with a paper cup of water — an absolutely pathetic offering considering the world of pain the man had just mercilessly put him through.

But Shigaraki took it anyway.

“Didn’t realize that there were going to be breaks,” he said before knocking back the cup in one gulp.

“Once we begin the transference of All for One, there won’t be,” Ujiko explained, “What I was working on this time, was completing your quirk.”

Shigaraki’s brows furrowed, “What do you mean?”

Ujiko chuckled, gesturing to the paper cup in the new leader’s hands, “Why don’t you try putting your pinky down?”

He shot the doctor a confused look, not sure what exactly that would accomplish other than sparing him a trip to the trash can. But upon Ujiko’s nod of reassurance, he looked back down at the cup, bringing his raised finger down on its crease experimentally.

Shigaraki’s eyes widened immediately.

The cup was still in his hand.

It didn’t turn to dust. Didn’t even crumble or sport a single crack. He touched it with all five fingers and yet it stood with as much integrity as the steel IV pole next to him.

He snapped to the doctor, something unreadable in his voice, “Is… Is decay gone?”

“No, no of course not. I’d never purge you of such a powerful quirk,” Ujiko assured, “You just have control over it now.”

Shigaraki willed decay to activate, testing Ujiko’s explanation, and in an instant, the cup dissolved under his touch, just like he was used to.

He stared at his hand in disbelief, the dust falling through his fingers. He couldn’t believe this…

“And it’s not just turning it on or off, all or nothing,” Ujiko continued, “You can stop the spread of decay at certain points, activate it with just one finger — you have full control.”

Shigaraki snapped to Ujiko, intensely. Desperate. Maybe he should’ve been doing a better job of maintaining his poker face like Sensei would’ve, to try and hide the way this was affecting him. But he just couldn’t. Not now. Not when something he’d longed for so badly, so primally was so close to his grasp.

“Are you sure?”

Ujiko didn’t seem to take notice of this lapse of control however. Or at least, he didn’t care. His bushy mustache just raised with a small smile and pride in his work.

“Quite sure.”

Shigaraki’s eyes narrowed. He was not fucking around here, “ How sure?”

Ujiko’s smile shifted slightly, a challenging smirk pulling at the corners as he offered his own hand as fodder.

Shigaraki slapped his fingers fully atop the back of Daruma’s fat hand, letting the full extent of his anger and emotions drive him. He wanted to test this fully, test that even in fits of passion, he wouldn’t lose control.

And he didn’t.

Daruma Ujiko stood just as whole and living in front of him as the moments before. The only change was the chuckle of satisfaction that Shigaraki’s dumbfounded expression brought him.

“Pretty neat, huh?” Daruma said, turning back to start pulling out equipment for the next phase of experimentation, large hulking tubes and wires that looked more akin to HVAC parts than real medical equipment.

Neat wasn’t exactly the phrase Shigaraki would use. But he didn’t really care anymore.

He had shit to do.

“Now, regarding the next steps in your transformation—”

The EKG machine behind him beeped loudly and suddenly, signaling that it had been disconnected. Ujiko turned back to Shigaraki curiously, watching as he pulled off the various electrode pads scattered across his chest and back.

“You don’t want to get started?”

“Tomorrow,” Shigaraki answered, ripping the IV from his wrist as he hopped off the table.

“But what about the power? Your dreams?” Ujiko pressed, something strained, irritated starting to form in his voice, “I would think that these are all things you’d want without delay.”

“I do. But achieving them one day later won’t kill me. And I have some shit to take care of before I grind for four months.”

Ujiko clicked his tongue, clearly unsatisfied with this new development.

He knew exactly what Shigaraki had to go take care of. And he didn’t like it. Didn’t like you . He’d never liked you in fact. You asked too many questions. Had too many suspicions…

But Shigaraki didn’t care about the doctor’s disapproval, simply turned to him after slapping a bandage over his free-flowing wrist and commanded, “Warp me back to the villa.”

This clearly wasn’t up for discussion. Ujiko could’ve protested, sure, but at the end of the day it wouldn’t have mattered. Shigaraki wasn’t a kid anymore, far from it. He’d taken the mantle of true leader by force, and held his head high with the confidence that accomplishment deserved. If he wanted to do something, he was going to do it. The risk of upsetting the doctor or even his master was not a concern anymore. It barely ever had been.

So in the end Ujiko just sighed and turned to his obedient servant sitting patiently in the corner, “Johnny.”

Shigaraki didn’t so much as flinch as the warp came spewing out of his mouth. In fact, a rare sheen of childlike joy took over his features instead. Daruma noted this with a shaking head as he warped away. Oh well. If Shigaraki wanted one last night with his companions, with his little distraction , who was Ujiko to get in the way?

This was the last night he’d have control over his own body after all. Might as well let him enjoy it.

“Robber!” you cheered victoriously, pumping your fist over the seven you rolled.

“Noooo, not again!!” Toga cried out.

You grabbed the little gray token off the board, twirling it around tauntingly as you hum, “Hmmm, and where should I put him? I wonder…”

Spinner glared at you from across the board, “If you put it on my wheat field one more time—”

“Great idea Spinner!” you mock-gasped, already well aware of where you were planning to put it, and slap the Robber down in the center of Spinner’s monopolized wheat hex.

“Great move! Cheap shot! ” Twice, the last player of the group, piped in.

“ Damn it !” Spinner punched his fist down on the table, shaking the drinks surrounding the board precariously.

“Oi, oi careful there!” you said, grabbing your glass of wine protectively, “If you party foul, you lose a turn.”

Spinner just grumbled irritably, grabbing his own beer and knocking it back to try and quell some of his frustration. You giggled at the sight. It would be easy to assume that Shigaraki was the most competitive and aggressive game player out of the League, but he actually managed to keep his cool during sessions most of the time. No, it was undeniably Spinner that was the most uncontrollably competitive, and it never failed to make you smile.

Even as the thought of Shigaraki threatened your demeanor with a frown.

You shook out the thought, because of course, you had another certain player to focus on. And you turned to her pointedly.

“Alright Toga, half your hand, let’s go.”

She gasped, “Whaaaat? What are you talking about!? I only have six cards!”

“That’s because two of them are sticking out of your sweater.”

Toga looked down to her sleeve, where indeed the corners of two resource cards were poking out rebelliously.

She snapped back to Compress in offense, who sat on the couch behind her, observing the game amusedly with his own glass of wine in hand, “Atsuhiro! You said that trick would work!”

“I’m sorry my dear,” he shrugged his hands tragically, “But it seems your sleight of hand needs a bit more work.”

Toga groaned, pulling her cards out of her sleeve and looking over which ones she wanted to discard with a pout.

Crushing his finished beer in his hand, Spinner turned back to Dabi who sat across the room, as far from the game as possible, and pretending not to watch it all, like he wsn’t invested in a single thing in this room. Not at all.

“Oi Dabi, can you grab me a beer?”

“You’ve got legs, get it yourself.”

“But the fridge is right freaking next to you!” Spinner shouted, pointing at the minifridge that actually, was not only right next to Dabi, but that he was currently resting his feet on top of.

But Dabi was a son of a bitch. So rather than even giving him an answer, he just crossed his feet over the fridge, making himself more comfortable.

“God, seriously ?!”

Shigaraki watched this all from the doorway with a whisper of a smile on his face. He’d stopped by his bedroom at the villa to grab a button down and even considered grabbing a quick shower while he was at it before coming here — the griminess of a week of experimentation sticking to him thickly. But ultimately he’d been too eager to see his comrades.

Yet, once he got to the doorway that the familiar rowdy laughter of his League led him to, he couldn’t help but just stop and take in the moment. It was nice to see them all so comfortable and content after months of chaos and vagrancy. And it was a look that especially suited you.

While you’d never been particularly materialistic or image-obsessed (if your decision to be with him didn’t make that obvious), you certainly also weren’t one to turn down the finer things in life when offered. And clearly here, you’d been offered, given the cashmere sweater and expensive bottle of wine you were currently enjoying. The regular access to showers and brand name moisturizers and cosmetics certainly weren’t hurting you either. Your skin was clearer and more glowing than he’d seen in months. You’d even seemed to have some time to style your hair today.

And of course there was your laugh. That big, uninhibited laugh that you only let out when you were truly comfortable. In general you were a pretty pragmatic person. It’s one of the things he’d always appreciated about you, particularly when surrounded by this circus that he calls a villain group.

You approached new situations skeptically and took most things seriously. It’s not like you had no sense of humor, quite the opposite actually. But you also were very aware that there was a time and place for everything. When the pressure was high, laughter was nowhere to be found. And it had certainly been nowhere to be found for a while now.

So it went without saying that seeing you like this now, laughing over a game board, cheeks tinged slightly-red from the wine, completely taken care of and without a care in the world…

It was quite the sight for sore eyes.

“Shigaraki?”

He blinked and looked back to Spinner who, in standing to go grab a beer from the fridge, had turned and spotted him in the doorway.

“Tomura!” Toga squealed excitedly, jumping up out of her seat with Twice to join Spinner in barraging him in the doorway.

“What’re you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be leveling up with the Doc?” Spinner asked.

“Got a night off,” he answered simply.

“That’s awesome boss! Who needs ya?! ”

He turned to look past the three as you approached behind them, much calmer than the others, as usual. But that didn’t mean you weren’t just as thrilled to have him here. The adoration in your eyes was clear from across the room and it warmed him up in a way that he’d learned to really enjoy.

“It’s good to see you,” you said, simple and sweet. There was clearly so much more behind those words, but you knew how Shigaraki felt about doing shit like that in front of people, so you kept it subtle.

Apparently the caution was unnecessary though, as Shigaraki seemed to have lost his own patience for pretense. Even if it made his next words the spark that set off a firework show of “ooo’s” and teasing from resident forever teenagers, Toga and Twice.

“Yeah…” he breathed, “...Can we talk? Alone?”

It was all you could do to sit down on his bed when he told you.

“Full control?” you repeated in disbelief.

“Full control.”

You smiled, so genuinely, eyes starting to shine. You weren't even thinking about what this meant for the two of you yet, you were just happy for him, for the peace he could now live with. The burden that had eased.

“That… That’s amazing Tomura…”

Shigaraki stared down at you, a lump of nerves settling in his gut. He wasn’t affected by things like nerves or apprehension very much anymore — barely ever was in the first place, and especially not now that he had all the confidence and authority of a “Supreme Leader”. But he couldn’t keep those feelings from surfacing in that moment, couldn’t shake the image in his mind of things going terribly wrong.

Of you crumbling into a pile of dust and viscera in front of him.

He swallowed down those fears though, and started to reach out a shaky hand, “Can… Can I…?”

Whatever apprehension he felt, you obviously didn’t share. You shot out a hand immediately, without hesitation. With complete trust in his word. In him.

His trembling palm pressed against your own firm one, fingers still raised taught and high on instinct, careful not to make contact. You slotted your fingers through his own, bringing them down to hold his hand with none of that same carefulness. His knee-jerk reaction was to scold you for being so reckless around his hands, just like he always did, but he held the words back, knowing he didn’t need to anymore. But the subconscious anxiety buzzing within him was just the same.

You didn’t rush him either. Just gave him a squeeze of reassurance, and that was enough to finally encourage him to put a finger down. And then another. Tip by tip resting firmly and fully against your knuckles, until only his pinky remained raised.

He stared down at the horrid appendage, the one that had betrayed him so many times. That he could remember the horrible, gruesome ways in which it had destroyed in full, vivid detail now. Of the damage it could do to not only the world, but had done to his world. To Mon-chan, his mother, his sister…

The League was his world now — you were his world. And the idea of destroying that all with his own hands. It was too much.

No, he decided, starting to pull away. This wasn’t fucking worth the risk.

But you leaned forward then, pressing your lips gently against his, locking him in place. You didn’t deepen it, nor did you pull away. You just held yourself against him, willing him to understand that this would all be okay. That he was a “Grand Commander” now, and with that came taking risks. Risks that you’d stand behind him through to the bitter end.

How you managed to communicate that all in just a kiss — how you always managed to communicate so much with so little — should’ve been a quirk of its own honestly. But regardless of how, the comfort of those unspoken words was enough to spur him forward. Shigaraki brought down his pinky.

And you didn’t turn to dust.

You pulled away in fact, just a little, your eyes fluttering open as a soft, tearful smile spread across your face.

“Tomura—”

He surged forward, all of that hesitation and fear from before vanished in an instant. He shoved your hands together forward, pressing you to the bed as he kissed you with new fervor. His free hand came to hold your face, full and tight, all five fingers scrambling up the length of your cheek, your temple, tangling tight into your hair.

You sobbed happily into his mouth as he pulled his other hand free from yours, running it all across your body, disintegrating your clothes on contact, and then bringing those fingers back up the same route of bare skin, fully in control.

He was just as quick to decay his own clothes as you reached forward to try and tear at the top button of his shirt, which, while haphazardly done, was still too secure for either of your patience. He needed to feel you, all of you. Every inch against every pad of his fingers for the very first time.

And possibly even the last.

He didn’t want to think about that now though. He just wanted to shove you up higher onto the center of the bed, shoving your legs open wide as he kissed down the expanse of your chest and stomach. As he buried himself into your center, the pads of his fingers squeezing painfully tight into the pudge of your thighs.

But you didn’t mind the pain. Not only because it surged the pleasure just that much further, but because it grounded you. Reminded you that this was real. It promised a world — no matter how distant or near-impossible it was in reality — where Tomura Shigaraki could be whole and happy.

Where he could fully be with you.

Your legs strained against his grip, instinctually trying to close as his working tongue pushed you closer and closer to climax. It wasn’t going to take you long at all to reach that peak. After all, the intensity and emotion of the moment aside, it had been a long while since your last coupling. The weeks of recovering from his fight with Re-Destro, the full month you all spent fighting Gigantomachia. And of course, even before that, with the close quarters and stress that came from living on the run and in complete squalor, your escapades had become pretty few and far between. (It was hard to get in the mood when you hadn’t eaten or showered properly in over a week).

So yeah, suffice it to say you were pretty touch-starved at this point, the work of your fingers on lonely nights at the villa having absolutely nothing on Shigaraki’s skillful tongue. And the voraciousness with which he assaulted your sex certainly wasn’t slowing things down for you either.

He didn’t even need to slip his long, knowing fingers into you to have you coming undone — he wouldn’t want to right now anyway, completely losing himself in the way your thighs felt squeezed between his fingers, but that feel of his nails digging into you spurred you on in their own way, ripping a cry from your throat as you came hard under his lips.

Shigaraki smirked up at you, wiping the excess slick from his chin with the meat of his palm, “Missed that.”

You smiled back at him, your own tinged with a bit of sadness as he climbed up over you, hands running up your ribcage. Because you didn’t just miss this. You missed him. And you knew that feeling wasn’t going to go away anytime soon. In fact, it was just getting started.

His brows furrowed at your expression. He’d always been good at reading you, and it’s not like you were being particularly subtle, “You good?”

You chased the melancholy from your smile quickly, planting a happy peck at the corner of his mouth before showing him teeth, “I’m great.”

He hummed, a gentleness overtaking his own features as he stared down at you. Adoration, pure and whole and unrestrained, particularly as he brought a hand back up to cup your face. His fingers spread across the expanse of your skin greedily, his thumb dipping down into your mouth.

They were small gestures, little things that he seemed the most eager to do with his newly-attained range of touch. But it was obvious that they were huge to him. They were a freedom and a comfort that he’d been chasing his entire life. Even if he didn’t know it.

He groaned as you wrapped your own fingers around his cock, guiding him eagerly to your entrance. You had to. As much as he obviously wanted to fuck you, he couldn’t bare to take his fingers off of you for a second. He’d settle for fucking the plush of your thighs if it meant that he could hold you fully in his hands for just a second longer.

You, of course, were not so willing to settle.

“God—fuuck yes,” he growled, low in his throat, as he sank slowly into you, eternally grateful that for once your patience was even more lacking than his.

You grinned up at him`, shifting your hands to settle on the hard curves of his hips, “That’s good, huh?”

It was all he could do to nod shakily, lip biting back a breathy whine and brows knitting hard, as he tried desperately not to blow his load immediately.

You hummed happily at the sight, bringing one of your hands up to run across his cheek and through his hair. You remembered thinking a few months ago just how much those fights with Gigantomachia and Redestro had hardened him, aged him. Foolishly, it had even had you questioning briefly if this would be the end of your relationship. If maybe the shift that occurred during his awakening would chasm too big a valley for you two to bridge.

Of course, in the privacy of the League’s quarters, off of the stages and away from all the new adoring fans (bandwagoners, you and Spinner sometimes like to joke), he had been the same old Tomura Shigaraki, if not a little more confident and level-headed. He still complained about how everyone sitting on his bed eating dinner while he was on strict bed rest was too loud, still invested himself fully and kicking ass at every little game – from video games to cards – they challenged him to in order to pass the time with a cocky little smirk on his face.

And right now, with his face flushed and mouth agape with pleasure, he still looked just as young and ready to take on the world as the day you met him.

Finally he started to rock into you, slow and deep. One of his hands slipped down to the crux of your neck, fingertips biting tight into that smooth skin as he pulled you closer and closer into him. The other found a tight, desperate purchase on the handle of your hip. He used the grip of both to pump harder and deeper into you with every snapping thrust.

Minus the dry spell the two of you had endured over the last couple of months, you and Shigaraki had, overall, had a lot of sex over the last year that you’d known him.

Like, a lot of sex.

Rough sex, soft sex, angry, and fun. And while the man who claimed to hate everything would of course be remiss to admit it, there had indeed been quite a lot of genuine, intense lovemaking mixed in there too. But this right now, with all of the feelings and newness and longing that came with every stroke and whisper?

If Tomura Shigaraki was in fact capable of love, you were positive that this was the representation of that.

His lips dropped hot against the shell of your ear, peppering desperate bites and kisses along the skin as a string of breathy babble spilled out between.

“God fuck, you’re so perfect. Feel so good. Every part of you, so good. So fucking perfect…”

Overwhelmed with emotion and pleasure, it was all you could do to just mewl out his name, “Tomura, Tomura, Tomura—!”

His hips rolled against you with every hard buck, stimulating your aching sex in the way he knew you loved. That would have you clenching and spilling around him over and over again in the way that he loved. You weren’t even sure if it was intentional at this point, or if you had memorized each other’s bodies so well that it just became an instinctual part of his movement. You certainly didn’t have the forethought to drag your nails up the curve of his spine in the way that had him cursing and speeding up immediately.

“F-Fuck, I’m not gonna last like that—” he growled out, rutting desperately into you in spite of his own warning.

“G-Good,” you breathed back, rolling your hips right back into his, “Don’t.”

“B-But—”

He couldn’t get the rest of the words out, his mouth overtaken by a deliciously loud moan instead as he hit that deep, spongy spot inside of you that was heaven for the both of you. You got the message anyway.

But he wanted to keep fucking you. But he wanted this to last.

But he never wanted this to end.

You tangled your hand through his locks, reveling in the fact that there was so much more to hold now, and yanked his head back hard so he’d look at you.

“But nothing,” you smiled through hot, huffing breaths, “You’re fucking crazy if you think this is our only round.”

He stared at you in complete awe for a moment, hips almost coming to a stop as he took in this moment, took in you and the way that you always seemed to know what he was thinking and what he needed, even when he didn’t.

Even if he hadn’t had his own dreams for the future, looking at you now, reveling in all that you’d been through together and all that you’d done for him, thinking about all that you deserved… If he could destroy this rotten society just so that you could have the freedom to be half as happy as you looked in this moment for the rest of your life, he’d gladly fucking do it.

Shigaraki’s face mirrored yours quickly after, a wide lascivious grin spreading across his face. It was all teeth and joy and feral desire to absolutely fucking wreck you. And let himself pound into you with the most reckless abandon he could muster.

You cried out at the new punishing pace, nails pushing hard into his skin, and heels locking sharp around his waist, spurred by the desperate need to have him pound into you harder, deeper, faster. Until you were completely coming apart around him, with his own violent release following close behind.

About two hours later, when you’re lying blissed out, sticky, and half-asleep on Shigaraki’s bare chest, he told you to roll over onto your stomach.

You groaned in protest — while your spirit was eager to roll around the sheets with him as much as possible before the sunrise, your body was sore and spent.

“Not for that,” he said, nudging your shoulder, “Just trust me.”

There was still some visible exasperation as you finally gave in, joints and back aching as you moved them before they were ready. You rolled over onto your stomach, dropping your cheek into the mountain of pillows that awaited you.

Shigaraki followed, moving his body over yours and straddling your hips. You were about to scold him for tricking you when, rather than grinding himself into the curve of your ass or thighs, he simply sat down on your butt and brought his hands to the base of your back. Then he started to knead and you knew exactly what he was doing.

Many a time during your months on the run did you take it upon yourself to try and alleviate some of his stress. Of course one of his favorite ways (and yours too) of doing so was to fuck each other’s brains out. But there were also many times when that wasn’t exactly an option. Whether because there were others around or because he was elbow deep in work for their next operation.

At times like those, when he was hunched over a shitty, half-dead laptop he’d manage to scrounge up from a dumpster, or held his fingers to the bridge of his nose, staring up at the ceiling as he tried to fight off an impending headache from the constant pressures of responsibility — you’d usually come up behind him and rub his neck.

It wasn’t like you made a big show of it or anything. Most of the time you’d just reach a single hand over to him and start to stroke his neck without a word. Not expecting him to say or do anything, not even expecting a thank you. You just wanted to do whatever you could. When it was just the two of you around whatever sorry excuse for a base you’d managed to find, or when you’d been lucky enough to be settled in a safehouse with private rooms, you’d manage to talk him into laying down on his stomach, much like this, and work knots that he could’ve sworn had been there since birth, right out of his back.

He never said anything about it, never thanked you nor told you to stop, but in retrospect he did realize that it was one of the few things that managed to bring him even a smidgeon of peace over those many stressful months, that actually got him through it all. Particularly in the fights against Gigantomachia, where, the second the beast was asleep, you’d insist he lay his head down in your lap while you rubbed softly at his temples, lulling him near instantly to do the same.

It truly meant the world to him, even if he’d never admit it. A deep, foolishly sentimental part of him always wished that he could return the favor.

And now he could.

Of course… That didn’t mean he was any good at it.

“Pinching, you’re pinching,” you winced as his thumbs pressed together, unoiled, on a patch of your back awkwardly.

“Oh shit,” he released his grip, settling to just rub his fingers up and down your back slowly, “Sorry…”

“It’s fine. You just can’t do it that hard if you don’t have any oil or lotion, you know?”

His brows furrowed, “You always did it that hard without any of that crap and it felt fine.

You smirked back at him playfully, “That’s because I’m really good.”

He shot you a look, completely unimpressed.

“I liked what you were doing before,” you conceded.

This was clearly something he wanted to do, and who were you to complain or judge when he was being so unabashedly giving?

“When you were using your palms. Just pressing and kneading with your whole hands rather than trying to do any pressure point stuff is really nice.”

“Yeah, okay…” he nodded, concentration settling over his features as he followed instructions.

You sighed, burying your face back into the pillows as he ran those hot, calloused hands purposefully up and down your back.

This was nice.

Again, while he wasn’t hurting you anymore, the massage itself wasn’t particularly skillful. It did put you at ease though, the way his smell and presence, the way those hands — even when you could never feel them fully against you — always managed to put you at ease.

After at least thirty minutes passed and Shigaraki showed no sign of stopping his ministrations, you peaked back up at him.

“You don’t have to keep this up you know.”

He snorted, “Yeah I know.”

And you should’ve expected that response. Because of course he knew. He wasn’t doing this out of obligation or anything. Tomura Shigaraki didn’t do anything he didn’t want to after all.

You rolled your eyes, “I just mean that you must be tired after all that. Don’t you want to sleep?”

“I’m gonna be asleep for the next four months. I think I’ll be good missing one night.”

The message behind those words was clear. He only had so much time to spend with you, he wasn’t going to waste even a second of it with something as stupid as sleeping.

You should’ve been flattered by that. And of course you were. And truth be told, you had the same mindset as him. You had no plans to sleep that night either, even if he had. But the reminder of his fate for the next four months brought a bitterness to your mouth that overpowered the sweetness of this opportunity.

“Sleep, huh?” you said doubtfully, “Is that what the Doctor is calling it?”

“I guess suspended animation,” he corrected himself, “Or whatever the fuck.”

Amongst other things. Hellish agony he believed was the way the Doctor so eloquently put it. But he’d chosen to spare you (and the rest of the League) those particular details.

Even without that knowledge though, you still weren’t thrilled by the prospect. Of course because you were going to miss him, but mostly because you trusted that fucking doctor about as far as he could throw you. Which, for that portly little creep, you were pretty sure wasn’t far.

Particularly, because now that the excitement and happiness you’d had for Tomura’s newfound quirk control (as well as the fog from your repeated orgasms) was starting to fade into something more grounded, a sneaky little question managed to worm its way into your head.

Had the Doctor been capable of “fixing” his quirk this entire time?

A loud pounding on the door suddenly broke the silence, at least two fists rapping. And then Twice’s muffled call of, “Alright you two, you’ve had your fun! Now come out and play with the rest of us! Take your time! Make babies if ya want!”

You snorted at the call. Shigaraki was substantially less entertained.

“Jiiiin!” Toga whined from the other side of the door, “Leave them alone! They want some privacy!”

Ah, so the two fists knocking must’ve both been Twice.

“But you missed Shigaraki too, Toga!”

“I know, but…”

A stretch of silence. And then apparently Toga’s support for love was outweighed by how much she missed her friend. Because then two more fists started knocking on the door.

“Tomuraaaa, come ooouuuut!!” Toga cried, Twice starting up his own pounding on the door right along with them.

“Yeah, yeah— come out! Stay away !”

“I’ll kill them…” Shigaraki growled, glaring at the door heatedly.

You just giggled as you rolled over under him, dropping him to sit on your waist.

“Oh don’t be like that Tomura,” you cooed, reaching up to cup his cheek in your palm and turning him to look at you, “We should all go hang out. I’m not the only one who’s gonna miss you these next four months, you know.”

He sneered at the suggestion at first, wanting nothing more than to spend the entirety of these next twelve or so hours with his hands holding on to you as tight as possible.

But then he really got thinking about it. About them.

Spinner, Toga, Twice, Compress, hell, even Dabi. There wasn’t going to be time to fuck around with them all once he woke up. They’d be going straight into action, into war. Into the future, wherever that may lead. This wasn’t just going to be his last guaranteed chance to enjoy time with you. It was his last chance to spend time with any of them, until they achieved their goals. And by the end of all that, who even knew how many of them would still be alive?

It was a weight he’d carried around with ease as they planned out their attack over the last couple of months, a weight he’d been carrying for the past year if he was being honest. But it never felt as heavy on his soul at this very moment.

You were right. Absolutely right.

How annoying, he thought with a grumble.

You smiled as you saw that shift on his face, the slight softness that always fell over him when he thought about the League, even if he wasn’t aware of it.

“Alright?” you pressed.

He sighed, “Yeah, yeah. Alright…”

And then let the corner of his mouth quirk up ever so slightly as he looked down at you, so splayed and fucked out and pretty. He leaned down to press a long, but surprisingly chaste kiss on you, for someone that was still sitting atop your naked form with his own.

Because just because he was going to get up, didn’t mean he was going to be in any rush.

Caught up in the feel of each other, neither of you noticed the click of the door and Spinner’s voice announcing, startlingly clear, “Guys, the door is unlocked.”

“Ack— SPINNER!! ”

“Okay, you’ve got that all memorized?” Toga chirped, sitting criss-cross applesauce on the floor.

“Yeah, I guess.” Shigaraki, across from her, shrugged, strongly resisting the urge to tell her about how stupid this all was (again).

“Great! So then we start in that first position, crossed arms,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest by example.

Shigaraki sighed and mirrored her.

“Alright! One, two, three!” she sounded off excitedly, before fluttering her hands eagerly and singing, “Misssss Maaaaaryyyyy Mack, Mack, Mack! All dressed in black, black, black…”

You grinned from your position on the couch, glass of wine in hand, as you watched the two. Shigaraki was pointedly not singing along with Toga, but he was matching her claps with impeccable accuracy.

The League had been just as stunned and excited to hear about Shigaraki’s new upgrade. Not to the point of immediately jumping on his dick, but that was obviously more than okay with him.

No, they were more interested in giving him a speedrun through all of the things he’d missed out on in life from not being able to grab it with all five fingers. Playground clap games that Shigaraki, as a boy, couldn’t say he ever played even before his quirk awakened, were apparently of the highest priority to Toga.

“With silver buttons, buttons buttons— Tomura, you’re not singing!”

“And I’m not gonna,” he grumbled back, but not stopping his hands, “Take the W as it is, or don’t take it at all.”

You laughed at the sight, a new glass of wine that you were sure Shigaraki would want by the end of this.

Mr. Compress read Shigaraki’s palms next.

They supposed that this was technically something they could’ve done even before Shigaraki’s upgrade, but with how careful and particular he’d been with anybody getting anywhere near his hands, it definitely wasn’t something they had ever thought to give a go before now.

He decided to read the palm that hadn’t been marred by the fight with Redestro, for more “accuracy” (a reasoning that Shigaraki had openly scoffed at).

“Your love line is quite straight and short,” Compress explained, “Which indicates that you don’t have a lot of interest in love.”

“Booooo,” a red-faced Toga whined from her place on the floor between your legs, shooting Shigaraki an aggressive thumbs down.

You promptly grabbed the half-empty can of chuhai next to her foot, and moved it up to the side table out of her sight. Underage drinking was officially done for the night.

Unbothered, Mr. Compress continued his reading, running his mechanical finger along the top line of Shigaraki’s palm, “Since your love line begins below your middle finger though, it also means that when you do love, you’re quite selfish about it.”

You chuckled, “Hammer? Meet nail.”

“Oh shut up,” he waved you off with his free hand.

“Next is your head line, which represents the way you learn and communicate, as well as your overall intellectualism and thirst for knowledge.” Compress turned to the rest of the group, finger raised as he lectured.

Dabi, from his place leaning judgmentally against the wall across from them, huffed, “Alright, I agree with the Boss on this one. This is really stupid.”

Toga grinned at him, pointing teasingly, “You’re just saying that because you don’t have any more lines in your palm to read! Jelly!”

“I’m not—”

“Jelly!” Twice backed Toga up with a chant, “Jelly, jelly, jelly! Peanut butter !”

Dabi just sighed and returned to his nth beer of the night.

“You have a deep and long head line, that runs separate from your heart line,” Compress continued, “That means that you’re clear and focussed, with a great sense of adventure and enthusiasm for life.”

Shigaraki snorted, “Alright, now I know this is bullshit.”

You flicked his cheek scoldingly, “Just keep going.”

“I also see a singular cross in your heart line, which suggests that you carry some emotional crisis.”

Compress didn’t linger on that point. After all, everyone in this room was dealing with the same thing in one way or another.

“The lifeline is the most interesting in my opinion,” Compress explained, “As opposed to what you might think, it doesn’t have to do with the length of your life, but the quality of it. Yours runs close to the thumb and forks downwards, which means you’re often tired and a pessimist.”

Toga snickered a bit at that, “Still think it’s BS, Tomura?”

“I’m getting the distinct feeling you guys are doing this just as an excuse to insult me to my face.”

You gave his freehand a squeeze, “Oh we don’t need the pretense to do that.”

“ Oi. ”

“There’s a circle in the line too, which predicts great injury or hospitalization.”

The League looked at him pointedly, and he just rolled his eyes.

“The last detail about your life line is a curious one. It’s short and shallow,” Compress said, cocking his head in a way that clearly indicated that he didn’t exactly agree with it, “Which indicates that you’re easily manipulated by others.”

Your frowned.

The rest of the League members pulled faces that clearly showed their similar disagreement with the reading. But you, thinking back to all his interactions with All for One and the Doctor, everything in his life that he’d described to you…

Well, you weren’t so sure.

“Pffft, like I said,” Shigaraki scoffed, gesturing for you to hand him his wine, “It’s all bullshit.”

Deliberately, Mr. Compress did not read Shigaraki’s fate line.

You weren’t sure when the night turned into the League taking turns with choosing tasks for Shigaraki to complete, but you weren’t going to complain. You were already looking forward to Toga’s next round after she’d screamed up into the security camera you all knew Skeptic was watching irritatedly through to get her some string for cat’s cradle.

Spinner’s turn was pretty simple though, and at first, not especially different then before. You thought at first that maybe that was by design, that Spinner just wanted to spend some time with Shigaraki the way he always had.

He wanted to play video games.

Of course, there was a twist.

“Fingers down.” Spinner scolded him for what had to be the fifth time in the last ten minutes, “Toga, I need chicken.”

“Yes, chef!” she chirped back happily.

“God, fucking—” Shigaraki growled, forcing his pinkies back down onto the controller against every instinct in his body.

Years of having to hold things in a particular way had caused him to develop a very particular controller grip. One that, once, back at the bar — god, that felt like it was so long ago now — several of you had tried to mimic, just for the hell of it. (Or more accurately, just to get his goat). And it had been hard . The general consensus had been that no normal human should be able to hold a controller like this, let alone hold a controller like this and be as good at video games as Tomura Shigaraki was.

Now though, the shoe was on the other foot — or more accurately the controller was in the other hands — as you all forced Shigaraki to go a couple rounds of Overcooked while holding the pro controller like a normal fucking person. And it was not going well.

“Stop dropping shit!” you yelled hysterically next to Shigaraki, “Do you see how many burritos we still need to make?!”

“Do you think I’m doing it on purpose?!” he shouted right back, possibly more worked up than you’d ever seen him.

Toga on the other side of him giggled. She and Spinner were having absolutely no trouble at all on their side of the kitchen, “Tomura, I thought you were supposed to be good at video games.”

“I am! I’m just not used to this grip— FUCK! ” he screamed out as his character once again fell off the map, throwing his controller down onto the carpet.

The room erupted in doubled over laughter and “woah woah woah’s”, over the tantrum the sorts of which none of you had seen since the early days back at the bar.

Maybe he wasn’t such a good sport after all.

With Twice’s request, even you had to admit that things were getting a bit ridiculous.

Twice slammed his elbow down onto the table, holding his palm open for Shigaraki to take, “Gimme all you got, boss! Go easy on me, please!”

Shigaraki, on the other hand, seemed the most enthusiastic about this one, placing his own elbow on the table and grabbing Twice’s hand tight in his own with a cocky grin.

You suspected that the many beers he’d knocked back (not to mention the entire bottle of wine the two of you had killed together) played a decent role in that, but it was also impossible to deny that their dear leader was fiercely competitive, no matter the game.

“Ready?” you asked, looking between the two. They nodded, and you begrudgingly stepped further into your role as referee, clapping as you counted down, “Three, two, one— arm wrestle!”

The room blew up in a (small) chorus of screams and cheers. Actually, even that was generous. As referee you were expressly forbidden from picking sides (Twice was very serious about that), and Compress and Dabi were too composed and too uninterested respectively to participate. It was just Spinner and Toga going wild and slamming their hands on the table as Shigaraki’s and Twice’s muscles strained against each other — although they were more than loud enough for the whole group.

“Go, Jin go!” Toga cheered rhythmically, “Go, Jin go!”

“Kick his ass, Shigaraki!”

The match lasted a respectable amount of time, both sides putting up a pretty damn good fight. And while Twice was built like a tank and was no slouch either — he probably would’ve won this by a moderate margin a couple of months ago — Shigaraki’s month-long escapade with Gigantomachia had given him a strength and will that surpassed Twice’s own.

“Arrrrgh— damn it !!” Twice shouted as Shigaraki slammed his fist down into the table definitively, “Great game Shigaraki! Die!”

You chuckled as Twice got up from his seat, head dropped in defeat, then turned to Spinner, who was already rolling out his dominant shoulder.

“Next challenger,” you gestured to the seat, “You’re up.”

Dabi didn’t have any requests throughout the night (surprise, surprise), just a lot of eyerolls and snippy commentary. But he also didn’t ever split off from any of you, which made you consider that he may not have thought this was all as stupid as he claimed.

The part of the night he seemed to enjoy (or at least, not vocalize his annoyance or the group’s childishness over), the most, was when around 4 am rolled around.

Out of ideas and exhausted, but absolutely refusing to go to bed, the League decided to take a particularly noisy and drunken nightwalk around the property (much to the dread of whichever resident’s window they passed). This quickly turned into an equally harebrained climb up onto the roof so that you could all watch the sun come up.

That sunrise was still a good hour or so away though by the time you all got settled up there, and as chatty, adrenaline-filled, and drunk as most of you were, the late hour and comforting breeze was starting to get to you all.

Twice and Toga had long fallen asleep, heads resting together. Compress, with his hands folded over his stomach and Spinner, curling up tighter into a ball with every minute, were not far behind. Dabi’s eyes were closed, but he might’ve still been conscious. He didn’t make a sound either way.

Only Shigaraki seemed to be wide awake, staring up at the waning moon with a complex expression on his face. He looked like he was thinking hard, but also somewhat at peace. Grateful for this moment, but already mourning its inevitable end. Exhilarated by the future that began for him tomorrow.

Wondering just what exactly he’d be leaving behind in the past.

You watched this all cross his face, not shifting between expressions, but clearly feeling it all at once. Overwhelmed, and unprepared to process it all. The one thing that seemed to keep him grounded was the hand that held yours, tight and warm. Anytime tonight that his hands weren’t occupied with whatever silly ringer the rest of the League was putting through, he was threading those fingers right back with yours, savoring the one new experience that he truly wanted to indulge the most in.

And you were more than happy to let him.

He shifted a bit in surprise as you nuzzled into his shoulder, squeezing his hand just a bit tighter in your own.

“You’re still awake,” he commented, voice horse with the sleep his body clearly wanted.

“So are you,” you mumbled against the fabric of his shirt, just breathing him in.

“Yeah, but you need sleep,” he chuckled, “Like I said, I’ll be having more than enough of it for the next four months.”

You stilled against him, frowning.

Right. The next four months.

Shigaraki seemed to sense your shift in mood, and kicked himself. That was a stupid thing to mention again when you’d finally managed to put it out of your mind for a few hours, and when that fate itself was even fewer hours away.

He ran his thumb with a restlessness that was once reserved for his nails against his neck. Even with that itch seemingly gone for good from his life, Shigaraki was still a fidgety person by nature. Especially when uncomfortable.

“You guys will be busy,” he grumbled, “Planning the attacks, organizing your regiments, training… You’ll barely even notice I’m gone.”

You didn’t comment on the stupidity of that statement, even though it was a really, really stupid and patently untrue thing for him to say. Because frankly, it wasn’t what was on your mind at the moment, not the front of it anyway. Of course the fact that you were going to miss him and these days together was a constant parasite, gnawing and suckling in the back of your brain. But truly, your current concern was a bit less melancholy. Less abstract.

Shigaraki had full control over his quirk now. And it was great and beautiful and nothing short of a miracle of course, you wouldn’t trade this night and all the memories opened up by that particular door for anything in the world. And yet you could not fight that question that had first struck your mind the first moment you had to actually think about it.

Why now?

That question wrenched through you painfully, no matter how much you loved the feel and sight of his hand in your own. Because sure, Shigaraki had been out of touch with the Doctor ever since All for One’s arrest. But what about the last sixteen some years that he’d been at the personal beck and call of All for One and his ward? Why hadn’t he ever adjusted Shigaraki’s quirk then? Was it a matter of technology, a breakthrough in quirk alteration he only recently was able to make? Or was it something else? Was there something bigger going on here?

What was he not telling you all?

Shigaraki looked down at you, giving that flat expression of his that you knew translated to concern. You looked up from your locked hands to meet his gaze. He stared into you, those deep pools of carmine that stood so hard against the rest of the world, now soft and imploring. Even more than they were for the League. This look was for you.

“Tomura—”

“It’s gonna be worth it.”

You paused, that newfound calm confidence in his voice silencing you in an instant.

“I know these next four months are gonna be hard for all of us. This war is gonna be hard for all of us,” he said, turning to stare back up at the stars, “But it’s all going to be worth it in the end. We’re gonna make a new world where you’re all able to live as you want to. To be free. And this power that the Doctor is giving me... That’s going to assure that it all happens.”

“And… You don’t think that you can do all that now?” you breathed, “You’ve gotten so strong already, Tomura. Maybe you don’t even need that power.”

He turned back to you with a small but sincere smile. The one that betrayed that deep down tenderness he always tried so earnestly to hide. That called his bluff, revealing that there were feelings other than hate in that cursed body of his.

The one that made your heart skip a beat.

“I don’t want to take any chances,” he said, bringing his free hand — all five fingers — to rest on your cheek, “Not when it comes to my comrades’ dreams.”

Not when it comes to you .

Those unspoken words were loud and clear.

You swallowed something tight in your throat, fighting the burn that threatened to overflow from your eyes, the worry that brawled to burst out from your chest and ruin everything. But you had no choice but to shove it all down.

Forcing a smile onto your face, you squeezed his hand tight.

“I understand.”

His own smile remained the same, although a bit of relief did seem to fall over his eyes. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your temple and stayed there, breathing as much of you in as he possibly could.

Shigaraki had made up his mind. He was going to go through with this. And there was nothing you could say, no concern you could voice or ultimatum you could give that would change his mind. This decision was beyond his own wants and dreams at this point. It was for something far more important to him, even if he’d never admit it.

This was for all of you.

And who were you to stand in the way of that?

The fears wouldn’t ease with time, the nagging in the back of your head wouldn’t be forgotten through training or planning or anything else that you could do in the next four months to try and drown it out. But you just had to suck it up. You had to support him.

You could talk about your fears and the Doctor and any secret ambitions he may have after this ordeal. After the war even. You could talk about anything then, really. It was only four months after all.

And the two of you would soon have all the time in the world.

#TOMURA SHIRAGAKI #TOMURA SHIGARAKI X READER #TOMURA SHIGARAKI X OC #SHIGARAKI #TOMURA SHIGARAKI #BNHA SHIGARAKI #MHA SHIGARKI #SHIGARAKI FANFIC #READER INSERT #SMUT #SHIGARAKI SMUT #SPICE WRITES #MHA #BNHA #MHA SMUT #BNHA SMUT #league of villains #mha spoilers #bnha spoilers

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thegettingbyp2 · 4 months

Note

Oh!

Billy the kid hates reader but it’s so passionate so… they fuck. Threats are always spewing in sex, gun to the head, a splintered bed frame/dented wood step… 🥵

Would I Do This

A/N: Hi I've combined this with a request where Billy fucks the reader with his gun, really hope you like it!

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Billy hated you. He was pretty sure he hated you more than he’d ever hated anyone else and he couldn’t put his finger on why. But what he did know was that you knew how much he hated you, so you made it your mission to infuriate him at every chance you had. You’d think that by now he’d be used to your constant teasing, that he’d just be able to brush it off of his shoulder and carry on with his day, and usually he could do this to an extent, but there was something about you on this particular night.

‘Hey Billy!’ you called over to him from where you were sitting on the wooden step at the front of your house, your dress sitting prettily around you as you breathed in the night air. Billy knew that he should just carry on walking and ignore you but he quickly found himself stopping in the middle of the road and turning to head closer to you, stopping when he was a couple of feet away.

‘What do you want?’ he said, crossing his arms over his chest, already getting annoyed when you giggled at him.

‘What’s wrong with you today, hmm?’

‘I saw you.’

‘You hurt me, Billy, you truly hurt me,’ you replied, grinning as you held your hand to your chest and Billy couldn’t help but notice the way your chest rose and fell with each breath. ‘Besides, I don’t think you actually hate me at all.’

This pulled Billy up short, his eyebrow raising as he looked at you. ‘Oh yeah?’

‘Yep. I think you’re actually in love with me and are just too scared to admit it.’

That was the last straw for Billy as he cleared the final few feet between the two of you, his hand coming out to wrap tightly round your throat, making you gasp in surprise as he brought his face close to yours. ‘If I loved you, I’d be treating you a lot nicer than this,’ he said, before crashing his lips onto yours. The kiss was rough, dirty, your teeth clashing against each others as Billy’s hand refused to let up on its grip around your neck. ‘If you want, I can take you inside and show you how much I hate you,’ he said, breaking the kiss and pulling back to look at you, his grip loosening the tiniest bit while he waited for your confirmation.

It was only then that you realised that you were still outside on your front step and anyone who walked past would have just seen what happened. You quickly nodded your head, desperate to get inside and see what else Billy would do to you.

‘Words,’ he reminded you, tightening his grip once again.

‘Yes,’ you gasped out breathlessly as your hand came up to wrap around his wrist. That was all Billy needed to hear before he took his hand off of your neck and tangled his fingers in your hair, pulling you to your feet and pushing you inside your house.

As soon as the door slammed closed behind you, Billy spun you around and crashed his lips to yours again, lifting your thighs around his waist and walking over to the small sofa that sat in the centre of the room before dropping you on it and climbing over you. He instantly pulled the skirts of your dress up and your panties down, revealing yourself to him and brought his hand down to run a finger through your folds, groaning at how wet you were.

‘If I loved you,’ he said, pushing a finger into you without any preparation, making your head fall back and a moan to escape your lips, ‘I wouldn’t be using you like the little slut that you are, would I?’

‘Some couples are into that kind of thing,’ you replied, grinning up at him.

‘Oh yeah?’ he crooked his fingers inside you as he used his other hand to reach down to his belt and grab his gun, sliding it up your body and pointing it at your head. ‘Would I be doing this?’ he questioned mockingly.

You felt your heart stop as you felt the cold metal of the barrel of his gun against your temple, both from fear and excitement as you felt your pussy clench around his fingers, making him smirk. ‘You wouldn’t,’ you said, hating the fact that your voice shook slightly.

‘Wouldn’t I?’ he said before pulling the trigger. The click of the empty barrel echoed through the room and you couldn’t help but flinch, making Billy chuckle darkly. The sound of the gun had you clenching around his fingers, throwing you into your first orgasm of the night.

Once your breathing had begun to even out again and your eyes reopened, you were instantly greeted with the sight of Billy smirking above you, still holding his gun in his hand against your temple. Your chest heaved from the adrenaline.

‘You actually came around my fingers at the idea of a gun to your head?’ Billy asked incredulously, a low chuckle coming from his chest, ‘you’re more of a slut than I thought.’ Your cheeks flushed as you realised that you didn’t have a comeback for him which only made him laugh harder. ‘If you liked that so much, I wonder what else I could do to make you cum with my gun?’

You didn’t actually process what he had just said, still too busy recovering from your orgasm, until you felt him slide his gun down your body, your body stilling when he ran the cold metal of the barrel through your folds, bumping against your already-sensitive clit. Your hips bucked up slightly, earning you a pleased hum for Billy, a sound you wouldn’t mind hearing again.

‘How about I fuck you with my gun? See how quick you get off on that?’ he asked teasingly, circling the barrel of the gun around your entrance.

‘Take the bullets out,’ you replied, still somewhat breathless.

Billy leaned back down, this time planting a soft kiss to your lips surprising you. ‘Now, why do that? I take the bullets out and it takes away the fun,’ he said before beginning to apply pressure as he slowly pushed his gun into you, making sure to give you time to adjust before pushing more in and rubbing a thumb on your clit, making sure you stayed nice and wet for him.

As soon as the gun was buried deep inside of you, Billy pulled it back only to push it back into you, causing a quiet whine to crawl from your throat as your head tilted back. ‘Billy,’ you sighed unknowingly as your eyes fluttered shut from the pleasure.

‘Nuh-uh,’ Billy sounded, tapping your cheek harshly to open your eyes, ‘eyes on me. I want you to see who it is making you feel this good with a fucking gun.’

His words paired with the feeling of his thumb on your clit and his gun inside you had you whining pitifully as you tried to keep your eyes open. ‘Close,’ you managed to gasp out as you started rocking your hips in time with the gun.

‘Oh yeah? You gonna cum on my gun, sweetheart?’ he teased, speeding up his pace with the gun and his thumb on your clit until your thighs began to shake around his waist. ‘Go on, cum all over my gun like a little slut and I’ll fuck you with my cock.’

That was all it took for you to let yourself fall over the edge. As stars burst behind your eyes and your back arched up into him, you left yourself to Billy’s mercy as he fucked you through your second orgasm. However, the sound of a click had your world screeching to a halt, unfairly cutting your orgasm short as Billy pulled the trigger again.

‘You - you just,’ you stammered, not quite believing what had happened. ‘You said you were taking the bullets out.’

‘Think back, sweetheart. You told me to take the bullets out and I said no,’ he said, leaning back down until his lips were brushing your ear as he whispered, ‘that’s where all the fun is. But, look at that, I’ve made you cum twice and you’ve not even had my cock yet.’

‘Don’t get cocky, it’s not a good look on you.’

‘Maybe so, but I think you on my cock is going to look very good,’ he replied straight away, leaning back to push his trousers down and free his cock. You took the time to pull your dress up and over your head so you were naked on the sofa underneath him and he groaned when he saw the sight of you, your thighs spread over his as his hands came to grip them wrapping you tighter around him and placing his cock on your stomach, showing you just how deep he’s going to reach inside of you. You couldn’t help the nervous swallow as you realised his was going to be the biggest cock you’d taken. ‘Like what you see, sweetheart?’ he asked, smirking down at you.

‘Don’t call me - oh!’ you were cut off as Billy slid into you, not stopping until he was completely buried in you and your chests were pressed against each other. The fabric of his shirt was rubbing against your nipples teasingly and it took everything you had not to whine at the feeling. Billy groaned at the feeling of you wrapped around him and he buried his head in your neck, nipping at your skin.

‘You were saying?’ he looked back at you before letting his eyes trail down your body as he began to thrust his hips. He bit his lower lip as he watched himself disappear inside you, mesmerised at the way you stretched around him before looking back at you, grinning when he saw your head tipped back and your eyes screwed closed.

He moved his head to your breasts, circling his tongue around one of your nipples, making you arch into him before harshly bit down, pulling a cry from your lips. Your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him against you as he started to leave bite marks all over your breasts, collar and neck, marks that you knew were going to start to bruise before he even left.

‘Stop leaving marks,’ you protested weakly as he grazed his teeth against your earlobe, a small whimper coming from you as his breath fanned across your face as he chuckled at you.

‘I want everyone to see that you were my little slut, to see that I put you in your place.’

Billy sped up the pace of his hips, his breath coming heavier as he grew closer to his orgasm. His hips started hitting harder against yours as he hitched one of your legs higher on his waist, making his cock brush against your g-spot.

‘Fuck, Billy, I can’t,’ you whined, tugging at his hair hard enough to make him hiss in your ear. Your whole body felt like it was shaking as you began to feel overstimulated as your third orgasm was fast approaching.

‘Come on, sweetheart, cum for me. Let everyone know who’s making you feel this good,’ Billy groaned, trying to stave off his own orgasm.

You clenched around Billy as you were both catapulted into your orgasms simultaneously. Your hands moved from Billy’s hair to wrap around his neck, holding him close as he panted against your skin. As you were both coming down, you couldn’t help but place a soft kiss on his jaw, making him shiver before he pulled out of you and leaned back on the sofa, running a hand down his face.

‘Where are you going?’ you asked quietly when you watched him stand up and begin to tidy himself up, leaving you feeling vulnerable as you grabbed your dress, wrapping it around you haphazardly as you sat up. Billy chuckled darkly before he looked over at you, hatred filling his eyes once again.

‘I think I’ve finished proving my point, sweetheart,’ he said coldly, smirking as he looked you up at down again. ‘Next time you need a reminder, call me,’ he said before walking out of the door, leaving you, still naked on the sofa, cursing yourself for letting yourself feel something for him.

#billy the kid #billy the kid imagine #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid smut #tom blyth

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ghcstao3 · 5 months

Text

(part 1)

As more days pass, the job doesn’t get any less strange.

Johnny is still poring over Ghost’s hint, trying to figure out how it could be possible that all these varying pieces are from the same artist. Unless it was someone more contemporary, experimenting in art styles of different eras—

Which would make sense, if not for the paints and materials not available in the present day, their methodology in creation having been lost to time, or its dangers realized.

And the signature. Scribbled consistently on every one of the pieces in the exact same place, exact same handwriting, even when the initials of S and R shift from the Roman to Latin alphabet, and when the length of the name itself shrinks and grows.

About every theory that pops into Johnny’s head is easily dismissed for another that makes slightly more sense, until he reaches another road block in reasoning. It’s impossible, plain and simple.

But at the end of the day, Johnny has to shake his head of those sorts of thoughts anyway. Because he’s here for a job, not to speculate, even when it’s his current employer that’s planted this dilemma in his head.

Speaking of—Ghost hasn’t gotten any less weird himself, either. Or, perhaps enigmatic, Johnny should say.

He continues to pose questions to Johnny as he works, but at some point they begin to sound less like questions from the owner of the artwork—and more like questions from the artist, as if seeking feedback.

All Johnny can do is answer honestly. He’s gotten better at deciphering Ghost’s hums and huffs and grunts, but not to the extent of really understanding what he’s thinking. Which only serves to confuse Johnny further about the whole… arrangement.

It’s on the last day, while Johnny is finishing up the last piece, that Ghost asks him the strangest thing of all.

“Say you were… immortal,” Ghost begins slowly, sometime nearing the end of the day; the end of Johnny’s contract, “would you choose to make a mark on the world, or remain invisible?”

Johnny furrows his brow. “I’m not sure. I mean—really, unless you’re big and famous, you kind of remain invisible to most, anyway.”

Ghost shakes his head, seeming almost frustrated by his answer—which would be a first. “No, not like—like if you made art, would you choose to keep it hidden, or would you allow it to be shared?”

It’s the first time Johnny has ever heard Ghost seem unsure of himself. He’s never seen the man falter like this, wavering in this intimidating, indifferent persona he’s thus far created.

Johnny suspects that there’s more to this question than it simply being a hypothetical.

“Depends,” Johnny says. He blinks up at Ghost, staring undeterred into that intense gaze of his. Sometimes Johnny thinks Ghost expects him to be nervous in his employer’s presence. “If it’s something personal, then sure, I’d keep it to myself. But I think in creating art, there’s also times that you’d want to display it, so I would. Not necessarily to leave something behind, but… maybe to inspire someone else.”

Ghost considers this for a long while, eyes raking over Johnny’s face for who knows what. Maybe a discrepancy in his honesty.

Eventually, he breathes slow and deep as he squares back his shoulders. “Then I’ll ask this again:” He pauses. “What do you think happened to the artist?”

The corners of Johnny’s lips twitch upward, though a proper smile never appears.

“I think he’s giving himself away right about now,” Johnny decides. It hasn’t really clicked to him, of course, that Ghost might be immortal—but it’s a conclusion he can at least speak aloud.

Ghost squints his eyes, and Johnny is inclined to think that means there’s a smile hiding beneath his mask.

“Suppose I have,” Ghost admits. Almost sheepishly, he then asks, “Does that change your answer?”

Johnny shakes his head. “I still think these should be displayed, if you’re willing. They’re… they’re beautiful pieces, and… why should you hire me to restore them just to keep them in storage?”

Ghost shrugs, and there reappears that new uncertainty. “I wanted a second opinion.”

Johnny laughs, shaking his head again. “Next you’re going to tell me you destroyed these yourself just to get it.”

Ghost stares at him a long, silent moment after that. Johnny’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline with the very clear answer to that joke.

“…Ghost.”

“It’s Simon,” Ghost corrects. “And I may have… tampered… with them. Just a little.”

Johnny scoffs. “Ghost, Simon, whatever. Some of these materials have been lost to time! And you just… you just—“

A deep, rumbling laugh escapes Ghost—Simon—that has Johnny trailing off from the rant he’d just been ready to go on. Art history is so meaningful to him, and he has a living man who can attest to those times in front of him, and—

And Johnny was just insulting him.

He shrinks back as Simon’s laughing tapers off, and that cold look in his eyes is overtaken by something warm, something friendly.

“Those pieces never meant enough to me,” Simon finally says, something melancholy falling over his tone. “But… I do have one more that was actually ruined by time that I think… I think I’d trust you enough to fix.”

Johnny’s eyes widen, perking up at the suggestion. “Really?”

Simon nods. “I’ll pay you however much, I—“

“No need,” Johnny interrupts. “You’ve already paid me… far more than you needed to, for the rest. I’ll do it, on one condition.”

Simon cocks his head, silently willing Johnny on.

The smile threatening Johnny finally releases, spreading wide across his face.

“You let me ask questions,” Johnny says. “I have a few debates to settle.”

Simon hums. Something… approving.

Finally, he says with an air of humour, and something oddly akin to hope, “I’m sure that can be arranged.”

#not proof read because i am feeling a bit Lazy #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ghostsoap #ghost x soap #ghoap #alternate universe #writing

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turtleofthehollow · 2 months

Text

With the idea that Alastor can’t stop smiling because of his deal, I’d love to see Lucifer be the only one who notices

Being one of the oldest being in all of existence, and living in hell since its creation, Lucifer would notice the signs of a deal from a mile away

It’s also likely Lucifer invented deals in the first place, so he would know the full extent of what they can do, which means he’s able to see that Alastor is trapped in a pretty nasty deal

What could be fun to explore is the idea that Lucifer has the power to break any contract made by a demon, and offers to do so for Alastor, but for a price

Alastor is than stuck between a rock and a hard place

Does he take the chance to finally be rid of this deal, only to be leashed to the king of hell? Or does he let his rivalry with Lucifer stop him from accepting this offer

In the end, Alastor accepts the offer, figuring a deal with Lucifer will be less restrictive than his current one

Lucifer raises his hand to break the deal, yet nothing happens

He tries again, and still his powers have no affect on Alastor’s deal

That’s when Lucifer realizes Alastor made a deal with something other than a demon

This whole idea is based on the theory that Alastor made a deal with the root of all evil instead of Lilith

Even if Lucifer wanted to help, he can’t because Alastor is leashed to a being even older, and more powerful than Lucifer himself

Alastor is left sitting there in both the humiliation of actually accepting a deal from Lucifer that proved useless, but also in the horror of knowing there really is no way out of this deal

#hazbin hotel #radioapple #duckiedeer #queer platonic radioapple #queer platonic duckiedeer #radioapple fanfiction #radioapple fic idea #alastor headcanons #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin alastor #hazbin lucifer #Alastor #Lucifer #alastor the radio demon #lucifer morningstar #alastor theory #Alastor headcanon

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hazshit-hotel-hater · 3 months

Text

Since Viv still somehow cannot decide on what Angel overdosed on. I am taking my liberties and doing it my goddamn self. I will also be formatting this into a summary of what I think a good small backstory scene could be like while also giving Angel a safespace and bonding experience.

It’s in the tags but WARNING there is discussion of drug abuse and overdosing in this summary.

Urg, okay, Vague but also kind of not vague angel backstory stuff because ig viv cant make up her mind on her own OCs backstory

Angel is lying in bed with Husk sitting at the edge as per usual, and Angel starts talking about a few mild personal things (mental struggles, work, general issues, etc) and Husk suggests taking something mild to help him relax and sleep so he gets up and gets him a few pills and puts them in Angel’s hand; says its Benadryl just to help him sleep a bit, but notices quickly that Angel is suspiciously reluctant to take or even look at the pills. Obviously, he asks what's up and is met with the answer of, “Nothin’ I just don’t… use that stuff.” It piques Husk’s interest, and asks if it doesn’t work for Angel, who responds with, “It definitely works.” but ultimately, Husk decides not to pry; however, he lets Angel know he’s open to listen if it’s something he feels like he wants to talk about.

Angel, being weirdly stubborn but also becoming a bit more open with Husk by this time, takes a few minutes to actually say something but eventually informs Husk that it was something he used to try and get high off and had some really good and really bad trips with, but it was the drug that ultimately led to him suffering an overdose and never waking up after it. Both of them are quiet for a bit until Husk gets up and searches for something else to help Angel sleep and, once again, places a few small pills in his hand and says he can try these, but if not, he can try something else without pills. Angel is still reluctant but ends up accepting the offer and proceeds to carefully assort the pills into little categories, saying it’s something he ‘needs to do’. Husk doesn’t push further than that and watches Angel take the pills before the other lays down again.

Things once again go silent for a good ten or so minutes until Husk notices Angel uncomfortably folding his hands over his stomach but mentions that pills always make him feel queasy to an extent and that he only takes them with other people around so he’s distracted from the discomfort they give him. In an attempt to calm Angel’s apparent nerves on the topic, he decides to sit with the other until Angel falls asleep. Eventually, Husk follows suit, with both of them waking up the next morning and Angel giving a relieved and grateful, albeit shaky, sigh. The next morning consists of Angel thanking Husk but ends with the two coming to an agreement that next time Angel can't sleep, a liquid medication approach would be better.

I don’t know if I’ll ever do a full fledged writing of this, but the concept of triggers is something I’ve personally yet to see stated in Hazbin Hotel. This would be a good way to discuss clear lingering trauma Angel has while still treating it with the gentleness the character needs and severity the topic needs. Benadryl was also just becoming a thing around the 1940’s so it makes sense for this to be something Angel very likely could’ve overdosed on. The topic of common triggers is something interesting too; I’ve seen that in other media obviously but even though I know we won’t get it, it’d be nice to see the caution around said trigger and very slowly seeing the character become more open to it if it is a common thing like this. Not everyone will get over triggers and I myself also used to have a strained relationship with a certain pill like this, but there is always the chance that you will be able to use it somewhat normally again.

If this were to happen I’d be fine with it if Angel never got over the discomfort of pills, but much later on in the series if we saw him take some kind of antihistamine casually and comfortably it’d be really nice to see that kind of growth. And as for Husk, I’d like to see him be less shame-y with Angel’s struggles like he was in Episode 6. Since we’ve basically lost Cherri Bomb as his safespace from external stressors, I really think Angel will benefit from an actually deeply caring friend, especially one that doesn’t overstep his boundaries and doesn’t encourage self destructive behaviour. The same goes for Angel by the way, I’m really pissed that they didn’t have Angel apologise for harassing Husk and everyone else. It really is not that hard to at least try to have him feel sorry about that sort of thing. Fuck, here’s something I wrote in like 20 minutes.

——————

It’d be really nice to have someone to talk to, honestly, even though he didn’t speak to Husk very much at all prior to this; he was looking forward to it a little more now. Coming home… er… coming back to the hotel after work and chatting casually at a bar was just… something about it sounded so… calm. Sure, he could go to a random bar and flirt with some rando, but talking with an actual acquaintance while having a few drinks seemed so freeing. Not having to worry about someone staring at him from across the room and getting approached about some kind of ‘offer’ outside.

God, he fucking hated that... “Fuck…” Soft smile melding into a grimace, Angel began to chew slower and slower until he eventually stopped altogether and harshly swallowed. He’d probably been making Husk feel gross like that for ages now. Obviously, he’d seen the disgruntled faces he’d get in return for flirting, but he’d never actually thought about it like that until now. He couldn’t even say, ‘for some reason, it made him feel gross’; he knew exactly why; coming to terms with that, on the other hand, was a lot more uncomfortable than he’d imagined. “Hey, uh… Not to damper the mood, but… I…”His chest puffed as he took a deep breath, and each word pulled Angel to avert his gaze further from his food and the cat sitting across from him. “I was gonna say… I’m sorry for bein’ weird and touchin’ your face yesterday…” As he spoke up, his voice lightly cracked near the end of his sentence. “And when we were filmin’ the hotel commercial… And every time I’ve put my legs on ya lap… And any otha time I did somethin’ like that.”

——————

I haven’t even finished this writing yet (I’ll likely add the rest when I do finish it) but you can see that it genuinely is not that hard to fit in an apology.

Anyway I hope you guys enjoyed my little Angel Dust ideas. Be prepared for more eventually

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tartigglez · 6 months

Text

"taking care"

・❥・HI POOKIES ITS DINNER TIME,, HAPPY BIRTHDAY KAEYA

・❥・kaeya x afab reader (no pronouns mentioned)

・❥・0.5k

・❥・SUGGESTIVE CONTENT!! no smut tho! consent, period talks and general sweet kae eeee, he might be a lil ooc, i'm very sleep deprived. happy birthday hubby. this isnt proofread owo

the way he kissed you was beyond passionate, to the extent it even seemed furious. but you knew he wasn’t angry, quite the opposite actually, he was completely captivated by your presence; the way you straddled his lap, hands moving all over his chest as you kissed him, the way they wrap around the back of his neck, eventually settling in to the rhythm of the make-out session. his hands travelled from your thighs to your waist intermittently, squeezing where he could, keeping you close to him.

the soft red light filling the room, combined with the quiet music in the background and the sounds of you both gently sighing in to the kisses were enough to have kaeya starting to unbutton your trousers, stopped by your hand grabbing his wrist.

“not yet,” you said quietly, but it didn’t sound like you were holding off a surprise, more like you were hoping a hole would open up somewhere in the floor and swallow you. still, he slowed down a little, his kisses a little less aggressive now, his hands steadying on your waist.

“your pace baby, always your pace, yeah?” he asked between soft, loving kisses placed on your lips, his thumbs rubbing your waist from where his hands had steadied.

“mmh” you mumbled, moving away from his lips to bury your head in his neck. he was half expecting you to start kissing him there, or taking his clothes off, since thats how this would normally go, but today, you simply rested your head there. this was enough to throw him off though, because who would he be if he didn’t know you like the back of his hand? not your boyfriend, apparently.

“hey,” he opened, a hand coming to your cheek, resting there for a moment, “are you not feeling this?” he half-whispered, placing a tender kiss on your forehead, an attempt at letting you know it was okay to feel however you did about it. you just shook your head a little, trying to somehow bury your head even deeper in to his neck.

“you know that’s okay, right?” he asked, kissing the top of your forehead again, “you know i’d never be annoyed at you for saying no to me, right?” he whispered, only getting a mumble in response. “can you say that a little louder for me, sweetheart?”

“i got my period,” you said abruptly, “i didn’t want to tell you cause it’s your birthday and i just thought you’d wan-”

“shh~” he hinted softly, a hand reaching to stroke your hair. “can you sit up for me, honey?” he asked, straightening his posture a little, as an invitation for you to do the same. “look at me. i would never, ever be angry or upset or grossed out by any of that.”

“i know but it-”

“but nothing, baby. it’s a human function, sweetheart, and whether its my birthday or not i never expect sex from you. you alone are gift enough for me, understood?”

you nodded, going in to his lips once again.

“taking care of you is the best gift of all, no matter how or when.”

nsfw masterlist || sfw masterlist

#eat and be fed my children #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin #kaeya #genshin fluff #genshin smut #genshin kaeya #kaeya x reader #kaeya smut #kaeya alberich #genshin impact kaeya

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aimbutmiss · 4 months

Text

another snippet from the shuggy fic I'm writing:

“You’re doing great, Buggy.”

Rayleigh nodded proudly with a smile and crossed arms as he watched the detached hand fly back to its owner, seamlessly reconnecting to Buggy’s wrist.

“It still feels weird.”

“That’s only natural. There’s nothing normal about it.”

Neither Rayleigh nor Roger had devil fruit powers, so even if they helped with his training, neither could help Buggy to a full extent.

“It’s in your own hands to figure this out and get through it. It’s scary, I know. But if anyone can do it, it’s you.”

That’s what Roger had said, but Buggy wasn’t so sure. He didn’t feel like he had what it takes to figure this mess out on his own.

His breathing still got jagged whenever he detached any part of his body, his mind recreating the pain that should have been there but wasn’t. It worked similarly to phantom limb ache; your eyes see your hand get ripped clean off and it fills in the gap. It’s not like Buggy was actually in pain, but it felt very uncomfortable. It was getting better though, the more he used his powers. His mind was starting to catch up to his body. But that didn’t make him feel better. His own body felt alien to him. Nothing felt like it used to. He was sweating a lot more, and while Roger joked it was puberty, they both knew that was not the case. His overall body temperature felt much higher than usual. Crocus did checkups on him regularly, which showed that while he was indeed warmer, it was not to a dangerous extent. But he was still under the doctor’s careful watch, just in case.

Buggy didn’t let any of that stop his training. He put on a brave face because he didn’t want to look weak, to disappoint Roger and Rayleigh. He couldn’t let a minor inconvenience break him, not when Shanks was still training, getting stronger every day. Buggy might not have conqueror’s haki, but he could still be strong like his friend. At least he got the other boy beat in the smarts department.

Buggy could get through this.

He started sneaking out at night, when most of the crew was asleep, to find a quiet corner and practice. And while Shanks usually slept like a rock, he was weirdly susceptive to Buggy’s absence. It didn’t take long for him to realize what his friend was up to.

“Rayleigh would be angry if he caught you. You’re cutting up on your precious sleep time.”

Buggy rolled his eyes. “Sleeping one hour less is not gonna kill me. And Rayleigh can shove the worried father act up his ass.”

Shanks chuckled at the foul words. “Don’t let him hear that.”

The red head settled down on the wooden floor of the ship, making himself comfortable as if he was going to watch a show.

Buggy turned to Shanks with furrowed brows. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Watching you.”

“Why? Just leave.”

“Nope.”

Buggy felt like punching his friend to the other side of the Grand Line but managed to keep calm. He couldn’t let the boy waste his precious training time any longer. “Ugh. Fine, whatever.”

He started by detaching his fingers first, quickly pulling them back. Then he worked his way up, doing the same with his hand, his forearm, and eventually his whole arm. Then he detached them all at once. That still felt the worse. He could handle doing it one at a time, but cutting himself up too much made him nauseous. He went on to do the same with his legs, the foot first and working his way upward… Shanks, who had been weirdly silent up until then, finally spoke up:

“Have you tried detaching both feet at once?”

Buggy looked at him with wide eyes, shutting the idea down quickly. “Of course not! I’d just smack to the ground.”

Shanks rubbed his chin with curiosity. “Hm, maybe. But you can make your parts fly, can’t you?”

“…” Buggy stared at his feet in apprehension. He hated to admit it, but Red’s logic was sound. If he could make his limbs float, he could technically do the same with his whole body, right?

Shanks walked closer, holding his arms out like a safety net around him. “How about this? I’ll catch you if it doesn’t work.”

“… You better.”

“I’d never let anything happen to you.”

Buggy’s ears got red at the blunt confession. It confused him, how easy honesty came to the other. It was as if he could never feel ashamed of how he felt. Buggy would have felt envious if embarrassment didn’t overwhelm his other emotions.

“… Shut up.” He simply deflected because he didn’t know what to say. He turned his attention back to his feet and reluctantly raised one, detaching it from his foot. He stayed like that for a few seconds, not knowing how to go about this. It’s not like he’d be hurt badly, but losing your footing was not a pleasant thought. Everything in his brain screamed “Don’t do it!” but it all quieted down as Shanks’ hand sneaked its way into his, squeezing in reassurance. Buggy didn’t even realize it, but his other foot slowly detached from the ankle, skipping away from his body. He opened his squeezed-shut eyes one after the other, looking down at his lack of feet. But he wasn’t touching the ground.

He was floating.

He panicked at the sight and fell on his butt, or at least he should have but he just gently landed on it. He looked back at Shanks, who had held him from his arms to slow his fall, with grateful eyes. His feet skipped back over to him, reattaching themselves. He took the hand Shanks was offering and the boy pulled him up to his feet once again.

Shanks looked at him with wide eyes and an even wider smile, the picture of pure amazement. “Buggy, that was amazing!”

He looked away in embarrassment, unsure of how to feel of his accomplishment. “More like creepy.”

“But you can fly now! Imagine getting the hang of that… This is so cool!”

Buggy was still apprehensive about the absurdity of his powers, but he had to admit that this was pretty exciting news. He was still mourning the loss of his ability to swim, but he could fly now... sort of. Maybe it was true that you win some, and you lose some.

Still, floating felt terrifying, even when he was only a few inches off the ground. He was certain that nothing could ever fill the void the comfort of the sea had left behind.

“I think we should go back to sleep.”

“Yeah, probably. You did great today.”

Buggy smiled brightly at him. “Thanks to you.”

Shanks looked away, rubbing his nape as his face grew red. “W-well it’s what friends are for…”

Buggy slept like a baby for the first time in a long time, but Shanks kept staring at the ceiling till the first rays of sunlight filled the room.

#I was feeling generous today #eat up people #I love baby shuggy #they're like 12 here #how many posts have I made about buggy and the complicated relationship he has with his devil fruit???#a lot #because I think about it all the time #one piece #buggy the clown #shuggy #red haired shanks #buggy x shanks #shanks x buggy #buggy one piece #shanks #silvers rayleigh #my writing

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am-i-interrupting · 3 months

Text

Dinner with Dad | Vox x Alastor’s Child Reader— OATSH

Summary: You reunited with Vox in Hell and took him on a tour as you caught up, ending with dinner at your house. . . with your father.

You had errands to run. Sinners to see. Deals to fulfill. Land to run over.

All in all, since landing yourself in Hell, you’d been doing well for yourself. Some would even say you were thriving.

You’d harnessed your powers in less than a half a year. It didn’t take too long before you were making deals. Within your first three years, you’d become an overlord and you were doing a damn good job at it.

You had a fair bit of Pentagram City to your own. You made yourself a theater. Took a bit out of Rosie’s book and opened yourself one day a week to fix people’s problems. You didn’t have much to complain about, all things considered.

Your bag swung back and forth in your hand as you walked the streets. Several people darted away, recognizing you. A smile stayed in your lips.

It was nice. It was so nice to simply be free. That was the thing that suffocated you when you were alive, was that you were never free. You were always doing a performance and to an extent you still were but you got to choose what it was this time. You didn’t have it placed upon you.

Gone was the sweet tempered, innocent daughter of a brutal murderer. Now in her place was the confident woman with just as much of a dark side as her father.

Not that many people knew you were related. No, most residents of Hell had no idea you and the Radio Demon were kin. Instead, you were just two overlords who were close, like him and Rosie or Zestial and Carmila. It was better that way, safer.

So, you strolled along and people saw you as you were. It was so nice. After a bit less than a decade, you still weren’t fully used to it. Convinced some days you’d wake and you’d be forced to slip on a persona you never wanted.

While you didn’t wake up suddenly alive again, you did stop as something reminded you of your time living. A voice, a very familiar voice came to your ears. You immediately turned towards it.

A mostly humanoid demon was the source. Although, curiously, instead of a head a television was in its place.

“Damn it,” that voice seethed as a different sinner walked away from him.

Your smile morphed into one of genuine happiness instead of general contentment. You couldn’t help but tease. You had to.

You simply appeared in front of the demon causing him to release a noise of shock as he stepped back. You leaned into his space, “Why, is that my favorite TV show host?”

The discomfort fell from his face as pure shock took its place. “Oh my god,” he uttered beneath his breath.

“Mmm, far from.”

“You’re here.”

“So are you. What is it I call you now, exactly?” you asked him.

“Vox.”

“Mmm, that’s Latin, correct?”

“I— Yes.” His screen glitches and the smugness fell from your face. “You’re here.”

“As we’ve established. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he said slowly. “Just shocked. I didn’t— You’re. . . May I touch you?”

It was your turn to be shocked. You blinked owlishly several times before you nodded.

Vox tentatively reached out a hand. He placed it on your shoulder. A breath escaped him when it made contact with your blazer.

“You’re here. You’re real,” he said, voice still breathless.

“I am. I am here. I’m real,” you repeated.

Suddenly you were pulled in for a hug. You tensed but quickly relaxed. Your arms wrapped around Vox’s torso as your head bowed against his shoulder.

Mint and citrus filled your lungs. You couldn’t control your fingers, which without your permission balled the fabric of his suit jacket in your hands at the fragrance.

“You still smell the same,” you told him.

“I never thought I’d see you again.” He pulled back. Using his pointer finger and thumb, he held your face in place so he could look at you. “You’re just as beautiful as the day I lost you.”

You felt something wrap around your heart and squeeze it so tightly you thought it’d burst.

“I’m sorry you had to.”

You stayed like that for a moment, just drinking each other in. He looked so different. Obviously but aside from his head and his newly acquired height, his body seemed the same. Granted, it was covered by a simple black and blue suit but the silhouette remained similar.

You shook yourself. “Why don’t you join me on my errands today? It’ll give you the chance to meet some new people, have a proper tour of this place, and we could catch up.”

Vox’s thumb caressed your chin before it slipped away. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Good, because you didn’t have a choice in the matter.” He laughed. You hadn’t realized how much you missed that laugh until now.

Vox was by your side for the entirety of the day. It was nice, comforting. You introduced him to sinners and hellborn alike as your company for the day. Not too many to note. Not many were interesting. Mimzy flirted, as Mimzy does, and Rosie. . . Well, Rosie was certainly something.

She greeted you with her usual gusto and pulled you in for a brief hug before she acknowledged your company.

“Now who is this stripping young man?” she asked, doing a circular gesture as she pointed to him, her arm still wrapped around your shoulders.

“Rosie, this is Vox. We were actually fairly well acquainted when we were alive—“

“Ooh?”

“—Vox, this is Rosie. She is a very trusted friend and overlord of this district.”

Vox held out his hand and Rosie slipped hers into his. He turned it over and placed his other hand atop it.

“It’s an honor to meet you,” Vox said. “I’ve heard nothing but positive words from the denizens of Hell in my time here.”

Rosie placed her hand (once around your shoulder) over her heart. “Why, you sure are a flatterer, aren’t ya?” she said as her other hand slipped from his grasp.

“I’m saying nothing but the truth,” he assured her.

She hummed and shook her head. “So, you knew this one in life? If you’ll let me I’d love to pick your brain apart for information. She never tells anyone anything about when she was alive. Nothing meaningful at least.”

“That’s not true.”

“Oh, yes, it is!” Rosie said. “The most meaningful piece of information about your life I’ve gotten out of you is stuff I already knew about you from your father.”

Vox smiled at the exchange. “Whenever you’re available, I’ll likely be as well.”

You rolled your eyes as Rosie looked at you with a smug, victorious smile.

“Anyway, I’ll quit teasing. Watcha need today, hon?”

You summoned a dress with a sizable, jagged hole. “I was just wondering if you could fix this. I’d ask Niff, but she’s been taking on too much work. I’m honestly afraid her heart might combust. You know I don’t trust anyone else.”

Rosie took the dress and fingered the fabric. “Should be a quick fix. I’ll get it back to you by the end of the week.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry to bother you with something trivial. I know you stay busy.”

“Nonsense, you’re never a bother,” she assured.

“I’m sure that’s not true but I won’t stick around much longer. You were the last stop for the day. You know, save the best for last and all—“

“One lonely woman in a room with two charmers, however will she survive?”

“—so, I’m off to make dinner. Would either of you like to join?” you asked.

“I have plans with Frank tonight,” Rosie said, “so I’ll have to decline this time.”

“Vox?”

“I’ve spent years without your company. I’m not going to leave now that I’ve finally got it,” Vox said.

“Then I’ll warn you, my father and I have what could be considered unique tastes,” you told him.

Vox’s face fell. “Your father?”

“Yes.”

“As in the radio show host?”

“Yes.”

“The serial killer?”

“Yes.”

“Alastor?”

“Is something not clicking?” you asked. “You’ve been in hell two months. Is television so faulty you already need repairs?”

Vox simply slowly turned to Rosie. He was met with the amused smile she now wore.

“I’m almost tempted to cancel my plans and join you,” she said before she walked away. “Good luck!”

“You don’t have to come in if you don’t want to,” you told Vox.

He took a deep, steadying breath as he smoothed down his clothing. “No, no, I agreed to come. I’m not leaving now. I’ll have to meet him eventually.”

“Well, yes, but today as been a lot for you,” you said. “We can cancel this and you can meet him in a public place if you’d rather.”

“He won’t try to kill me, will he?”

“Why would he?”

“Right. We’re just friends. I’m just meeting my friend’s father.” You felt a weight on your chest but brushed it off quickly. “Who is a serial killer, a very powerful overlord, and the only sinner who’s ever permanently made other sinners disappear.” He yanked open the house door, “After you.”

You entered the house and heard your name called. “Yes, daddy, it’s me. I brought some company,” you called back as Vox closed the door. “Here, let me. . . Your jacket.” Vox stood nearly perfectly still as you slipped the suit jacket off his figure, then placed it on the coat hanger.

“I’ve never heard you call him that before,” Vox said.

Suddenly you felt yourself feel something you hadn’t felt in years, self conscious. “I— Southern thing, I guess.”

“Who is this—“ Alastor’s smile went tense as he looked Vox over. “You’ve brought a picture box into my house.”

“This is Vox,” you said, a nervousness coming to you that hadn’t been there before. “We knew each other when we were alive. He’s a good friend.”

“Oh, I’m sure. Well, any friend of my daughter’s,” his voice trailed off. He snapped his attention to you. “I’m in the mood for venison.”

“You are always in the mood for venison.”

“Would you rather I be in the mood for something else? Television perhaps?”

You rolled your eyes, already sensing that tonight would certainly be something you’d remember.

Vox tried to help and it was a valiant effort. However, Alastor insisted that no help was needed. Saying with everything but words that he didn’t want anything to be tainted by Vox. You made sure to give your father a well placed elbow.

“So,” Alastor began when food was on the table, “how did you two meet?”

“Well, we—“

“Now, now, dear,” he interrupted, “it’s polite to let the guest answer. I can ask you any time.”

Vox put on smile, one rehearsed, one that even digitalized you recognized. “We met your daughter was a guest in my television program. She was promoting a book she wrote. She hadn’t even spoken two sentences before I realized I was in the presence of a truly remarkable woman.”

Alastor’s eyes narrowed. “Personally, I’ve never been in the habit of making friends with my guests.”

“As all of Hell knows,” Vox replied.

“I’ll admit, I’m a vain man,” Alastor said with a fake laugh following. “Why was it your show in particular?”

You opened your mouth to speak but Alastor held up a hand. You literally bit your tongue. You tasted a bit of copper in your mouth and couldn’t help but wince slightly. Your hands curled tighter around your fork.

“Television has been on the rise in the last decade. She recognized this and seemed to plan accordingly. My show was one of the more popular. However, it wasn’t the only one she went to. I do recall tuning into what was once your station and hearing her there.”

That caught your attention. You didn’t know he’d listened to any of your other interviews.

Alastor rested his head atop his folded hands. “You listen to radio?”

“I’m known to occasionally indulge,” he answered. “I do recall listening to your show actually, when it aired. Truthfully, it was one of my favorites. You’re very talented at what you do. Covering your own case even, a very bold choice.”

“As I previously said, vain.”

Some time later, dinner was over and so was the interrogation. You felt yourself breathe again at the idea of this evening being over. Funny how you’d had no reservations until Vox and Alastor were in the same room.

You grabbed Vox’s jacket off the coat rack. You hooked your fingers underneath the shoulders and held it out for him.

“I’m capable of putting on a jacket myself,” he said.

“I know.”

He turned around and slipped his arms through the sleeves. You smoothed down the shoulders. Your hands stayed there, only rotating in place as you moved to the front of him. You smoothed down the lapels. Then you did the buttons.

You lingered for a moment, just feeling his warmth underneath your fingers.

“It was good to see you again.” You looked up at him. “I hope we can do this again some time. Minus the dinner with dad. I’m sorry about him.”

“It’s alright and I’d love to.”

You nodded to yourself.

The two of you simply stayed like that for a moment. Your hands on his chest. His hands dancing at your elbows before he moved to grasp them, holding you in place.

You reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck. His hands traveled to your waist. He pulled you closer.

“I missed you more than you’ll ever know,” Vox said, voice breathy and barely above a whisper.

You held him tighter. “I missed you too.” Reluctantly you both pulled away. “Should I walk you home?”

Vox laughed softly, “Your father would think I kidnapped you. I think he’d kill me.”

“He wouldn’t.” Vox gave you a look. “I’m serious.”

“If you say so. I’ll be fine though, thank you.” His eyes darted over your features one last time and he re-tucked some hair back in place. “I’ll see you soon then?”

“Yeah.”

With that he left and for some reason, you felt like he was taking something with him.

#vox x reader #hazbin vox x reader #one author two show hosts

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