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xshadowdelta · 11 days ago

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DEBUT DAY

NMIXX Lily x Male Reader (1.7k Length)

After many efforts and sacrifices, you finally achieved your dream of becoming a K-pop idol. Years of training, singing lessons, dancing, and hard dieting had finally paid off.

Although your company was not well known in the scene, you had obtained quite respectable numbers in your debut, and you and your group teammates were very happy.

But this had only just begun. After the celebration for the release of your first music video and the amazing reception from the public, now it was time to perform at live events, radio interviews, variety shows, and weekly music shows, where you were now.

The presentation was a success, being able to go on stage with a real audience in front of you, the live performance, the technical team of the show, and the rest of the idols with their respective songs. Everything seemed like an unreal dream.

Now backstage, in the dressing room assigned to your group, which you had shared with NMIXX for the duration of the program.

Almost everyone had already disappeared from there, both your members and staff were already out minutes ago. You had been having a little too much fun recording a challenge for TikTok with a sunbaenim, although the good part was that now you had the whole dressing room to yourself.

Even so, you didn't want to make the others wait much longer and tried to change quickly, without even going into a bathroom or hiding behind a screen, because being alone, you thought it wasn't necessary.

You started to take off the outfit you had brought for the show. Without really knowing why, maybe because of the thrill and excitement of fulfilling a dream, maybe because of the stress of the debut, but for some reason when you took off your pants, you noticed that you were especially hard down there.

Your underwear was a bit sweaty due to the effort and nerves of the day, but luckily, you brought a new one to change completely. You left all your used clothes on the dressing room floor while you rummaged in a bag for your street clothes, a simple shirt and some comfortable jeans.

"Gasp." You heard a gasp from the doorway, startling you and making you jump a little on the spot from fright.

You turned to the door and saw Lily from NMIXX standing there, visibly surprised with her mouth half open and looking directly at you.

You panicked when you realized that you were totally naked and that your erection was in plain sight, in her sight since her eyes were focused on that part of your body.

You hurried to cover yourself with your shirt in a hasty and tremendously embarrassed manner, trying to apologize for the situation but only succeeding in a few awkward stammerings.

"I'm so sorry!" She apologized with a bow, her face flushed with embarrassment as well.

"I forgot my bag." She commented, running up to a coat rack where there was indeed a small bag and practically ripped it off of it, hurrying to walk back towards the dressing room exit.

A normal person would have run to put on their clothes at that very moment so as not to make the situation more uncomfortable, but you were frozen in shock.

"Can I..." Lily paused before turning the doorknob to open the door. Instead, she put the latch on to prevent it from opening from the outside and turned to look at you.

"Can I see it again?"

You were surprised by the question and hesitated. She clutched the strap of her bag in her hands, avoiding looking directly at you, shy.

You swallowed hard and pulled aside the shirt that was still acting as a barrier, leaving your cock in full view.

The girl rested her eyes on your member again, a new gasp came from her lips, biting her lower one and starting to take small steps towards your direction.

"Oh my god, it's so big." She muttered to herself without looking away.

That strange situation was making you both uncomfortable and somewhat horny, causing the size of your penis to continue to grow.

Hypnotized by your cock, Lily bent down, kneeling on the floor to get a closer look at it, inches away from her face. God, if any of the staff walked through that door right now, it would be the end of you.

"S-S-S-Sunbaenim, this is..."

"Can I touch it?" She asked suddenly, setting off all your internal alarms, but you didn't have the courage to deny.

Somewhat hesitantly and nervously, she touched your penis with her hand for the first time; she lifted it slightly to admire its length and was amazed.

In a matter of seconds her hand was stroking your length, slowly and clumsily, but in a way that made your penis and legs tremble, as if you were about to faint.

"Even with my two hands, I can't cover it completely." She said, absorbedly encircling your penis with both hands, squeezing it a little, drawing a grunt from you that brought her out of her reverie.

"OH, SORRY!" She apologized. "My brain wasn't even thinking about what I was doing."

"D-D-D-Don't worry...I liked it." You admitted it with your face flushed.

"That's a relief." She whispered, getting lost in your member again. "I've never seen one so big."

"Well, it's been a long, hard few days preparing for our debut. I haven't had time to unload." You excused yourself, scratching your head.

"I can help you!" She exclaimed excitedly.

"Would you do that for me, Lily sunbaenim?" you asked, to which she nodded energetically.

"A big cock like this deserves its reward."

If the conversation was weird, what followed was even weirder. You had fucking Lily from NMIXX masturbating your cock.

Lily's handjob was no longer clumsy and slow; the first impression had passed, and now her hand was moving with agility and steady movements around your penis that were making you really horny.

It seemed just as she said that her brain stopped working again, occupying all its memory in pleasuring your hard piece of meat. Her lustful eyes never wavered from your cock at any moment, watching every movement of pleasure and how it contracted against her touch.

Lily licked her own tongue across the palm of her hand, moistening it before wrapping it around your penis again, now applying the moisture to your entire length.

She didn't seem entirely satisfied, however, so she leaned forward, formed a ball of saliva at the corner of her lips, and dropped it directly against the skin of your member. Now her handjob was wet enough.

With her hand she rubbed all her saliva along you, causing shivers to run down your spine like electric shocks.

She wrapped her two hands around your penis again, picking up the pace. She pumped you, stretching and squeezing you, forcing you to let out a few moans.

She lifted your cock without stopping the masturbation, looked at your dangling testicles, and in an impulse plunged her face against them, causing you to take a step back.

"Sunbaenim?" you asked, confused and excited. The only answer you got was her rubbing her face against your scrotum.

She opened her mouth and sucked one of your balls for a few seconds, repeating the action with the other. You were getting dizzy with pleasure.

She licked your balls for a while longer, her hands never stopped jerking off. She pulled away once your balls were covered in saliva.

"I can feel how full they are; we must empty them, or it will be a problem." She said, looking into your eyes from below with a smile.

Her thumb touched your tip, making you shudder. All this play had made the pre-seminal fluid start to accumulate on your tip.

She licked your tip, tasting that fluid, opening her mouth to suck only that part of your cock, while the rest was still outside.

Still, the ecstasy was total. You felt Lily's tongue swirling in circles, cleaning the tip of your cock with pleasure. Then she continued to lick with her tongue from the tip to the base and back again, the reverse path culminating in a kiss on your tip.

Your cock throbbed, looking for release. Lily had worked you completely, and it was time to thank her as she deserved.

"I'm so close..." You muttered, clenching your teeth, resisting a little longer to keep her at your feet.

But she needed it now and had no thoughts of waiting much longer. She masturbated you faster than before, her hands moving up and down your skin, which was already beginning to redden from the rubbing.

She positioned herself right under your cock, opened her mouth, and stuck out her tongue. It was the signal that gave you a free hand to unload all your stress and anxiety from weeks of hard work.

You gave up against your own strength and let yourself go, noticing how a great river of semen crossed your entire system until it was expelled like a fountain through your cock.

Thick strands of fluid flowed out with the pressure of water emanating from a dam, flowing into Lily's face and mouth.

One, two, three, you lost count of the squirts she milked you because until she had squeezed every last drop out of you, her handjob didn't stop for a single moment.

You sighed in exhaustion, plopping down on a chair, your head looking up at the ceiling but your hands covering your face as your chest rose and fell endlessly.

When you came back to yourself, you saw how Lily's face was a complete mess, covered in huge white droplets from her hair, her glasses, her lips, and even her chin.

"Looks like you weren't lying." She said, crawling over to her bag looking for something to wipe herself with.

There was no response from you, because you were on the verge of fainting.

"Are you coming at Music Bank tomorrow?" she asked, now clean and on her feet. You could only nod your head.

"Well, meet me in the boys' bathroom after your presentation, I'll give you my best blowjob."

Your cock throbbed in reaction to those words, and she smiled goodbye and walked out of the dressing room, leaving you lying there not knowing what the hell had happened. Simply the best debut ever.

#kpop smut #male reader #smut #nmixx smut #lily smut

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biblical-chronicles · 3 months ago

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Walk in the park

________________________________________

where you and Liam try to hide your relationship from the press but they soon find out about it.

________________________________________

The afternoon light streamed lazily through the half-open window, warm and golden, casting soft shadows against the living room walls. It was one of those rare days off, no recording sessions, no interviews, no managers barking down the phone about schedules. Just you and Liam, stretched out in the quiet hum of your flat, the telly playing some mindless program in the background, half-watched, half-ignored.

Your legs were draped over his lap as he flicked a lighter absently between his fingers, a cigarette dangling unlit from his lips. He hadn’t even bothered putting on a proper shirt, just lounging there in some older one, his hair a mess, looking so effortlessly at home that it made your chest ache.

“You know,” you mused, stretching your arms above your head, “it’s actually proper nice out today.”

Liam hummed, barely looking up. “Yeah?”

You tilted your head toward the window. “Mmhmm. Sunny. Blue sky. Not one of those ‘oh, it looks decent but it’s actually fuckin’ freezing’ kinda days.”

That got his attention. He flicked his eyes toward you, smirking slightly as he finally lit his cigarette. “Oh yeah? You fancy goin’ on a walk or summat?”

It was such a normal thing to suggest. Like any other couple could just throw their shoes on and step outside without a second thought. But you weren’t any other couple. You and Liam had spent months sneaking around, dodging cameras, slipping through side doors, keeping things quiet. And so far? You’d done a bloody good job of it.

You sighed, chewing on your lip. “D’you think it’s a bad idea?”

Liam exhaled a slow stream of smoke, watching you through it. “Dunno. What’s the worst that could happen?”

You gave him a pointed look. “We get caught. Pap pictures everywhere. Front page news. 'Secret Romance EXPOSED.’”

He nudged your thigh playfully. “Sounds like a fuckin’ great headline, that.”

You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling.

You weren’t stupid—you knew what it would mean if people found out. The press would have a field day, twisting everything, making up whatever narrative they wanted. And you knew Liam… well, Liam wouldn’t give a fuck. But you? You weren’t sure you were ready to have your name dragged through the circus.

“It’s just a walk,” you murmured after a moment, more to yourself than to him. “What are the odds that someone’s lurking around some random park waiting for you?”

Liam grinned, tossing his cigarette into the ashtray. “Exactly. And if anyone clocks us, we’ll just say we’re mates, yeah?”

You let out a breath, considering it. It was ridiculous, really, how much effort it took just to go outside like a normal person. But at the same time, you were tired of hiding.

“Alright,” you said finally, sitting up and stretching. “Let’s go on a walk.”

Liam smirked, patting your thigh before standing. “That’s the spirit.”

You both got up, throwing on jackets and sunglasses like that alone would be enough to keep you hidden.

The fresh air hit your face the moment you stepped outside, the sun warm against your skin. It felt strange, walking together like this, out in the open. No sneaking through back exits, no carefully timed arrivals and departures. Just you and Liam, side by side, wandering through the quiet streets toward the park.

It was peaceful—surprisingly so. The further you walked, the more your initial nerves started to settle. There were no photographers lurking in bushes, no fans sprinting toward Liam or you, no one paying you any mind at all. Just the rustling of trees, the occasional sound of dogs barking in the distance, and the lazy hum of an afternoon that felt impossibly normal.

“See?” Liam nudged your shoulder, smirking. “Told you. Piece o’ piss.”

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “You say that now. Just wait till tomorrow when me manager’s blowin’ up my phone ‘cause we ended up on some fan account.”

Liam scoffed. “If we do, I hope they at least get me good side.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the grin tugging at your lips.

The two of you kept walking, falling into easy conversation, chatting about anything and everything. And then, somewhere between topics, somewhere between laughs, Liam’s hand slid into your back pocket.

It was effortless, smooth, like he wasn’t even thinking about it.

You nearly stumbled mid-step. “Liam,” you muttered, shooting him a look.

He only raised an eyebrow, the picture of innocence. “What?”

Your voice dropped slightly, though there was no one around to hear. “D’you mind?”

His lips twitched. “Nah. Feels nice, actually.”

You sighed, but you didn’t make him move. Because if you were honest? It did feel nice.

You hadn’t really been able to enjoy him like this. Not out in the open, not without worrying about someone watching.And now here he was, bold as anything, hand tucked snug in your pocket, just holding onto you as if there was no reason in the world not to.

You bit back a smile. “You’re a menace, Gallagher.”

Liam grinned. “Aye, but you like it.”

You didn’t dignify that with an answer.

As the two of you meandered further into the park, you let yourself relax. The city felt far away, the chaos of your schedules, the constant noise of your careers—none of it mattered here. It was just you and him, walking, talking, laughing. For the first time in what felt like forever, it was just simple.

At some point, Liam pulled you to a stop.

“C’mere,” he murmured, turning to face you.

You barely had a second to react before he tilted his head down, brushing his lips against yours—soft, slow, easy. Just a little thing, just enough to make your breath catch, just enough to make your fingers curl into the front of his jacket.

When you pulled back, Liam was grinning.

“See?” he muttered, voice low. “Told you this’d be a good idea.”

Eventually, after lingering in the park for a little longer, the two of you made your way back, hands brushing every so often as you walked.

And by the time you stepped through the door of the apartment, you weren’t thinking about the risk anymore.

You were just happy.

For once, you got to enjoy your boyfriend.

The morning started off normal enough. You and Liam had woken up late, made a lazy breakfast, lounged around with the telly on.

Until Liam started getting ready to leave.

You were still curled up on the couch when he wandered over, jacket in hand, stretching like he hadn’t just spent half an hour lying across your bed doing nothing.

“Right,” he exhaled. “Gotta shoot. See you later, yeah?”

You hummed in response, barely glancing up. But then—

A knock at the door.

Your head snapped toward it.

Liam barely reacted, just kept messing with his sleeves. But you could hear it now—muffled voices, the slight rustle of movement outside your flat. You sat up straight, a weird little pit forming in your stomach.

Liam just glanced at you. “What?”

“There’s—” You pointed to the door, whispering even though they couldn’t hear you. “There’s people outside.”

He blinked. “Yeah. Happens.”

“Liam.” You gave him a look. “Reporters are outside.”

He just shrugged.

“D’you reckon it’s about us?” you asked, your voice dropping lower, nerves creeping in.

“Dunno,” he muttered. “Maybe. Maybe not. They come round quite often, might just be to confirm some daft little story again.”

That did not ease your nerves.

You exhaled sharply, pushing yourself up. “Okay, I just—I need to check.”

Liam stepped further back down the corridor, out of sight.

You inhaled, steadying yourself.

Then, as casually as you could manage, you unlocked the door—

And all hell broke loose.

"Are you and Liam together?"

"How long have you been seeing each other?"

"Is it serious?"

The words hit you all at once, overlapping, growing louder, cameras flashing. And the moment you actually processed the words Liam and you—

You slammed the door shut.

Hard.

And from down the corridor?

Liam lost it a little, cackling at your flustered reaction.

You just stood there, hands still on the door, blinking. Then, slowly, you turned to look at him, a nervous laugh bubbling out of you.

“What—” you exhaled. “What the fuck do we do now?”

Liam was still trying to breathe through his laughter.. “I dunno, do I? Tell ‘em we were just walkin’. Tell ‘em we’re good mates.”

You huffed out a breath, nodding. Right. Right, you could do that.

You turned back to the door, inhaled sharply, and opened it again.

Only this time—

A fucking newspaper was shoved right into your face.

And there, on the front page, was a massive photo of you and Liam kissing.

Not just some grainy, distant shot—a clear, full-blown, perfect-angle picture of his lips on yours.

Your stomach dropped.

And once again—

Slam.

This time, Liam didn't even bother to contain his reaction, he was laughing so hard he could barely breathe, one hand dramatically wiping at his face.

You gawked at him. Then let out a helpless laugh yourself. “Liam—”

“Fucking—you should’ve seen your face!” he gasped, still wheezing.

You rubbed your temples, turning in a slow circle before sighing.

“I think,” you started, voice slightly hysterical, “there’s no running now.”

Liam, still grinning, pushed himself up. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Looks like it.”

Then, before you could stop him, he walked straight past you, unlocked the door, and threw it open.

The reporters exploded.

“Liam—! Liam, are you two—?”

“Are you together?!”

Liam lifted his hands. “No, no, we are not in a relationship at all.” He shouted over them, smirking, before grabbing you and giving you a quick kiss.

Loud gasps. More flashes. More chaos.

And when he pulled back—still grinning—you barely had time to process it before you slammed the door shut once and for all.

You turned to him, breathless, flustered to hell and back. “Liam—what the fuck was that?”

He just shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Just givin’ ‘em some food for thought, weren’t I?”

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finally back to some Liam posting, hope you liked it ya lot!!

#oasis x reader #oasis one shots #britpop x reader #oasis band #britpop fanfiction #britpop x f!reader #oasis fanfiction #britpop x you #oasis fic #liam gallagher one shots #liam gallagher x reader #liam gallagher x y/n #liam gallagher fanfiction #liam gallagher x you #liam gallagher x f!reader

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irisintheafterglow · 2 years ago

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...but I don't like a gold rush

summary: you're dynamight's publicist and, by some joke by fate, you fell in love with him. you're pissed about it.

wc: 1.3k

cw/tags: swearing, mutual pining, both kats and reader are emotionally constipated, happy ending

note: was listening to a taylor swift love songs playlist on spotify and this popped into my head. short and sweet, hope you like it all my bakugirlies <3 will be back to your regularly scheduled programming of jjk angst and jackals crack shortly

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated!

"this is a disgusting feeling and i hate it. how do i get rid of it?"

"you're in love, babe. there is no 'getting rid of it' unless you find someone else to hyper-fixate on," your best friend reminds you and you groan out of frustration for the millionth time. "might i suggest deku? or maybe shoto? if you want a smoking hot pro, he's definitely not the only one around." her mouth quirks teasingly and you half-heartedly chuck a pillow in her direction.

"he's the only one i want, though, and that's the fucking problem," you lament, "it's so embarrassing."

"have you considered the possibility that he might be interested in you, too? you're already around him 24/7." you bark out a humorless laugh. what a joke. the words "bakugo katsuki" and "reciprocating feelings" did not belong in the same sentence.

"i'm his publicist. it's my job to be around him 24/7." she shrugs indifferently and gives you a skeptical look that makes your face heat up. "am i out of my mind? falling in love with a coworker?"

"considering that your coworker declined the 'sexiest hero alive' award three times now, it's not that far-fetched," she admits and it makes your stomach feel even more queasy. your unease must have finally gotten through to her as she sits up from her bed and determinedly meets your eyes through the reflection of the mirror. "look. any man worth talking to will pass out when he sees you in that," she states, gesturing at the modest but elegant dress covering your body. "if bakugo doesn't realize how much of a catch you are, then you shouldn't waste another breath in his direction."

the sentiment was easier said than done, unfortunately.

the only thought in your mind was him, from the moment the car picked you up from your friend's apartment to stepping onto the carpet of the awards show. crowds of eager fans cheer when you open the door, shouting your name and recognizing you as the brain behind their favorite hero's appearances. you flip a switch in your head, instantly becoming the professional that reassures the cameras and politely answers interviewers' questions. eventually, in what feels like no time at all, the unmarked limo carrying the man you were stupidly in love with pulls into the roundabout drop-off. you try your hardest to keep your composure as his friends exit the vehicle: mina in her sparkly pink gown, deku in his sleek green suit, kirishima in a sheer top that leaves no chiseled muscle uncovered. your breath catches in your throat when he's the last to appear and the frantic screams of the fans fade to nothing when his eyes search the chaos and zero in on you.

"you're late," you say quietly when he's within earshot and he huffs an incredulous laugh.

"and you're stunning," he replies without missing a beat. you don't miss the way his gaze rakes over your body and you despise the way he instantly can set your face on fire. his casual flirting infuriated you to no end, especially when he spoke in that low tone that should only be reserved for...private activities.

"if you think flattery will save you from a lecture, you're deeply mistaken," you force out and pray that he can't hear the waver in your voice. the butterflies in your gut feel like a flock of unruly pigeons. "but, that'll have to wait for after the show. you've got cameras just up ahead."

"this is fucking exhausting," he grunts and you can't help the chuckle that leaves your lips. bright red eyes flick over to you and you swear you can see a cocky glint in them.

"you just got here."

"and? i'm only here for as long as you want to be here," he says and it makes your legs gelatinous. "say the word and we're leaving. no questions asked."

"you're the one who's getting awards tonight," you point out, trying to ignore the way your body naturally gravitated toward his until you were nearly shoulder-to-shoulder in the crowd. at some point, his arm stations itself to float just above your waist, creating a larger bubble for you to breathe without making contact with your body. "you don't wanna stick around to receive them?"

"nah." he shakes his head and waves his other hand in carefree dismissal. "i know that anything i say will just get me in trouble later." his mouth becomes a smirk and you catch him winking at you before making his way toward the flashing lights and calls of his name. you wait patiently for him to finish posing for the insatiable paparazzi, occasionally walking out to fix his collar or brush a strand of hair from his forehead. the burn of his stare doesn't go unnoticed when you're right in front of him, fixing a button on his shirt.

"stop looking at me like that," you mutter and he flashes a sharp tooth in amusement. he knew what he was doing to you; it was impossible for him not to know from the way your hands shook on his collar.

"i wasn't kidding when i said you looked stunning, sweetheart," he murmurs and you have to blink a few times to fix the short circuit in your brain. "you ever gonna tell me how you feel or am i just gonna keep making advances to a brick wall?"

"you have absolutely no concept of-"

"publicist, get out of the way!" you both stiffen and you futilely shake your head the tiniest bit. he doesn't hesitate, and his hand gently pushes you out of the light so he can properly yell at whoever dares to tell you what to do. unlike most of his outbursts, though, his use of profanity and insults toward one's mother was kept to a minimum; it made the true attacks of undermining the reporter's professionalism even sweeter.

"and just for the record," he concludes, "i do whatever they tell me to do, so don't think you can disrespect them and get away with it, 'cause that's never gonna fucking happen. got it?" the shocked reporters nod meekly and bakugo unceremoniously exits the photo area, returning to your side like nothing happened. "i'm sorry about them."

"you shouldn't have done that."

"you're gonna lecture me for defending you?"

"no, not that. the thing you said before we got interrupted," you say, your voice barely a whisper that only he can hear. "about making advances toward a brick wall."

"you mad that i compared you to a brick wall? because it really does seem like that sometimes-"

"no, you idiot." you finally turn to face him and pull him into a quiet corner. "i'm upset because, if this is a joke, it's not funny." he gapes at you for a few seconds, as if he couldn't comprehend what you just said.

"you think," he says slowly, "that i'm joking about liking you." you nod in assent and he drags his hand down his face. you can already hear the protests of his makeup artist, but you don't really care right now. "alright, fine. maybe i'm the idiot in this situation."

"what do you mean?"

"i like you, stupid, and i'm not kidding." his words sounded like they were foreign on his tongue like it was hard for him to voice his feelings aloud. "you deal with my bullshit and you're so fucking pretty, i wanna pass out. get it?"

"mhmm," you hum dumbly, still processing what he was saying. some part of you still was saying that it was a sick joke, but the way his eyes soften when you finally look up at him confirms all that you need to know. bakugo katsuki was irrevocably, uncontrollably in love with you.

and it surprised him just as much as it did you.

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#bakugo x you #bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n #katsuki bakugo x you #katuski bakugo x reader #katuski bakugo x y/n #bakugo katuski x you #bakugo katsuki x reader #mha x you #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha x you

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jp600fox · 5 months ago

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Okay, random shower thought that's got my hyper. WHAT IF...

So we all know the fan theory that Kamski and Reed are brothers. Makes sense because they look alike cuz they're the same actor.

We also know that Reed has a game-canon hatred for androids. At least he acts that way towards them. But what if there's more to the story???

In Kamski's interview about Cyberlife, he assures that his product is top of the line. "They won't deviate. They can't deviate. I've made sure of it. Blah blah blah." But at the end, he gives this smirk...

At first glance, it's a pleasant smirk that you give in an interview to show confidence. But the way I see it, I see someone who knows he's lying and getting away with it. He knows his androids can't be fully controlled. And before anyone says anything, he literally tells Connor that he "always leave an emergency exit in my programs... You never know..."

Put in a pin in that now.

There is an artist on Tumblr that had a theory in one of their comics, one that I will be expanding upon today. @sunsetagain posted a comic that was about Kamski having cancer and the lengths Chloe goes to in order to save him. It's a great comic that I enjoyed and got me thinking...

WHAT IF Reed doesn't just hate androids? He's jealous of his brother, obviously. I mean, Kamski made a name for himself. His net worth is huge compared to Reed's. Kamski is retired, living in an expensive home, being served by his creations, and living the life. Meanwhile, Reed is still working a job he probably loves, but is dangerous, and he is now getting the shit beat out of him by an android.

But what if he's not just annoyed about the androids being everywhere? What if he's not scared Connor or another android will take his job? What if he despises androids because he sees his brother in them?

His deviant brother.

What if Kamski is actually dead? The real Kamski. And what if he died after creating Chloe like sunsets comic said? Which means that, yes, Chloe could have placed his consciousness into an android modeled to look like him.

And the only "real" person burdened with the truth is Reed.

He's angry, not just because he's arrogant, but because he's faced an unimaginable loss and can't even grieve or express it. Because no one can know. So he takes his anger out on everyone, but most importantly the "plastic pricks" that keep him from grasping that closure he so desperately desires and wants.

Just a thought and theory that's so far fetched even the sun can't grasp it. But I couldn't turn my brain off till I got it out.

Also, please go check out sunsetagain if you haven't already. Their comics are so amazing and I love their art so much!

#detroit become human #dbh connor #writing #connor rk800 #dbh rk800 #elijah kamski #gavin reed

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lara4eclipze · 6 months ago

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›› there must be a good reason that you're gone

sypnosis -» we don't talk anymore like we used to do , what was all of it for?

beware -» angst , nasty break up , going against girl code(?) , twice mentioned, lara x reader mentioned

talks -» for my anon 🫢!! hi missed you soo much

taglist (open) : @nyssalvr @ohmyhaely @vrtualstar @jellaaa @c-yerim

you don't know where you went wrong — did you give too little love? did you not give her enough attention? yet as much as you asked yourself nothing came up nothing answered you

moments that lingered in your mind made it seem like you were the problem yet you never were , sophia has never been loyal as much as you tried to make it seem like , she's always behind your back talking to a new woman

you only reached your breaking point when she started forgetting important dates such as your birthday, your anniversary and the day you both made it official

"now the maknae! hello y/n , the question for you is , have you ever broken up with someone and how did it go" the interviewer asks as he approached you

"이 질문에 대답할 수 있나요? (can we answer this)" nayeon asks looking behind the cameras towards their manager who just nods

"ohh , well uhm I have had one and it really was a bit messy , yet I think that was a very good lesson for me" you answer recalling everything that happened during that night , "우리 막내가 다 컸네요! (our maknae is all grown up)" jihyo says giggling as the rest say all their memories when you first debuted

"that sums it up, again twice everyone!" the host says before you and your group bid goodbye , " one in a million! we are twice!" the group says "우리 새 노래를 들어주세요 Strategy! (please listen to our new song strategy)" momo says before the cameras cut

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

after the program you secretly went out to meet your now girlfriend lara , after the break up you didn't really know what to do but good thing she was there and from that point forward you both started dating

"hi love!" you said hugging lara as she ran up to you to hug you as well , "I missed you! , anyways let's go?" lara asks leading you inside the kats dorm

inside the dorm you were greeted by manon who was sitting down watching some tiktoks "hey" you greet

finally making it to lara's room she sits you down on her bed as she takes a seat on your lap, "so you miss me?" you ask cocky about her missing you , "obviously miss y/n" she replied

just before both your lips touch the door opens with sophia oblivious that you were here , "lara have you seen my- oh sorry" she says looking at the scene before her you and lara just being lovey dovey , suddenly the whole mood changed lara was now on the bed next to you sensing the unease , as sophia exits you two let out a heavy sigh

"baby I feel guilty, I mean she's my friend and I date her ex?" lara admits you look at the frown on her lips you held her face with your hands making her look at you "baby I understand , but know that she did something I probably won't forgive her for"

"ill never do that to you" lara says

"I hope not , that's the exact words sophia said" you chuckle remembering the countless lies she told you

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

it was late yet you couldn't sleep so you left lara on the bed to get some water , at the kitchen was her , sophia

"hey" she greets , you took note of how she was still wearing the bracelet you gave her for your first monthsary

"hello , just need some water" you replied awkwardly , you get to the fridge and take out lara's water bottle and drink out of it

you were walking back by this point , but you hear sophia mutter something , "I'm sorry , could you maybe give me a second chance?"

"no soph , I'm tired plus me and lara are together , I've never felt any better with anyone else" you replied trying your best not to look at her , and just continue walking

"how is that okay? — we break up and you get with my friend? , how fucked up is that?" she reasons as you hear her sniffle

"soph , you cannot be talking about what's fucked up when you cheated on me , fuck I'm not gonna have this conversation again, goodnight" you replied mad at her audacity to get upset over you picking lara , yet you didn't mention that instead going inside the girls room

"babe? — where'd you go?" lara asks in a groggy voice as she opens her eyes , you're so glad you chose the woman who knows how to treat you

"just drank some water love" you replied trying not to sound like you just finished crying , you both lay down with her in the crook of your neck as she hums a gentle tune

"I love you so much" you whisper as you place a kiss on her head

#katseye imagines #katseye x reader #lara katseye #sophia katseye #sophia x reader #lara x reader #lara raj imagines #lara raj #sophia laforteza #sophia laforteza imagines

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https-lvesick · 4 months ago

Text

⌕ LYING WEBS, a mark smau

[02] study group goes terribly wrong...

half-written chapter. [1.4k]

You veer away from the classroom, heart racing as you slip out of the school unnoticed.

Thankfully, you’re always prepared—the Silk suit is snug beneath your clothes. With a quick glance to confirm you’re alone, you switch into hero mode, stash your backpack in the bushes, and breathe in the adrenaline.

“Ruby, take me there!” you shout, shooting a web at the nearest rooftop.

Ruby—your trusty AI partner—springs to life. Programmed with nanotech, she keeps your suit flexible and near indestructible. Her link to your phone keeps Ningning, your tech-savvy friend, in the loop.

“Text from Yizhuo. Ningning says: Two hostages confirmed—one worker, one customer.”

Your stomach twists. You pick up speed, swinging across the city as Ruby’s guidance paints a clear route.

You arrive at the ATM vestibule. Police form a tense perimeter while three gang members—two frantic, one keeping watch—cling to their last shred of control. Armed and dangerous.

“Silk!” A cop waves you over. “Two hostages inside. We need them out before we can move.”

“I’ll handle it. Stand by.”

You creep along the walls, silent as a whisper, until you cling to the ceiling, scanning. Two criminals clutch heavy bags of cash, guns trembling in their hands. Sweat beads on their brows—desperation makes them reckless.

But the hostages come first.

“Ruby, distract them.”

The small “S” on your chest detaches, a crimson blur darting through the air. A flare of panic erupts as the gadget sparks and buzzes.

You drop silently behind the CCTV guard. He doesn’t hear you—until it’s too late. A sharp move disarms him, and a swift blow knocks him out cold.

“Stay calm. I’ll get you out,” you whisper, freeing the hostages from their bindings. Their wide, terrified eyes soften with relief.

As you exit the room, fists clenched and ready for a fight, you freeze. The other two criminals lie sprawled on the ground, unconscious. Ruby reattaches with a self-satisfied beep.

You stifle a laugh. Power charge mode. Figures.

The hostages are safe. The day is won. But you can’t bask in the glory—interviews and applause aren’t your style. With a polite “bye,” you launch a web, vanishing into the city skyline, just another student heading back to class.

Mark, Chenle, Haechan, Jisung, and Renjun lounged around a library table, waiting for the girls to arrive. Renjun and Chenle exchanged glances, their project untouched.

“They should be here by now,” Jisung grumbled, checking his watch for the third time.

“Maybe they forgot and went home,” Renjun suggested, shrugging.

“No way. Sweets wouldn’t do that,” Donghyeok replied, pulling out his laptop with practiced ease.

Mark grinned at the nickname. “She’s the one who set the time in the first place,” he added, flipping open his notebook.

“Wait—‘sweets’?” Renjun whispered to Chenle.

“Y/N,” the younger clarified, smirking.

Before the teasing could continue, they heard panting. Heads turned as Yujin stumbled into view, flushed and clearly flustered under the weight of their stares.

“Uh… hi, guys,” she mumbled, sliding into the seat next to Jisung. “Sorry for being late. I had questions for my teacher.”

Jisung froze like a deer in headlights, blinking rapidly as if he’d forgotten how to breathe. His friends watched, eyes gleaming with mischief. Even Renjun, who barely knew him, suppressed a grin.

“Are we waiting on more people?” Yujin asked, adjusting her notes.

“Just mine and Mark’s partner,” Haechan answered, biting his cheek to stop from laughing.

“But don’t wait on us. You two should get started,” Mark encouraged with a kind smile.

As Yujin shifted closer to Jisung, his hands trembled, cheeks burning red. Haechan, trying to contain his laughter, rested his forehead on the table—but his head hit with a loud thud.

The sound echoed through the library, drawing annoyed glares from nearby students.

“Fuck, Ningning!” he hissed, rubbing his forehead while muffled snickering erupted around him.

It was painfully obvious to everyone—except Jisung—that Yujin had a crush on him. The way she leaned in when she spoke, her subtle touches on his arm, and her bright, lingering smiles made it clear. Meanwhile, Jisung was a ball of nerves, too distracted by her presence to focus on their project. His hands fumbled with his pen, and his cheeks flushed with each playful nudge. Neither seemed to notice the stares from the rest of the boys.

“Finally,” Haechan muttered, spotting you and Ningning by the door before Mark even had a chance to turn around.

“Sorry we’re late,” you offered with a sheepish grin, plopping into the seat next to Mark while Ningning sat across from Jisung and Yujin. The tension hit her immediately, her eyes narrowing.

“Hi!” Yujin greeted brightly. You smiled politely, but Ningning’s lips stayed sealed, her eyes like daggers as she rifled through her supplies.

“Why’d it take so long?” Renjun asked cautiously, sensing something off.

“Uh… girl stuff,” you said, sharing a quick glance with Ningning. Your bright smile made Renjun’s ears turn pink, and he shifted uncomfortably.

The group finally settled into work. Projects moved forward, partnerships formed routines, and little habits emerged.

Mark admired how color-coded your notes were, your handwriting neat and meticulous, capturing only key insights. He quietly marveled at your efficiency. Across the table, Jisung discovered Yujin had a habit of chewing a plain old pen cap, reserving her fancier glittery pens for writing. She furrowed her brows intensely when focused, nearly crossing her eyes.

Meanwhile, Renjun’s pen twirled skillfully between his fingers whenever boredom hit, while Chenle smirked at his partner’s dramatic sighs of exasperation over simple tasks.

Ningning, however, wasn’t amused by her own partner, she already knew everything about him. She looked more focused on something else.

Every flirtatious giggle, lingering touch, and shared glance between Jisung and Yujin made her stomach twist into knots. Her gaze darted between the two, her anger simmering like a storm ready to break.

“Calm down,” Haechan whispered, rubbing her back soothingly. “We’re here to study.”

“They aren’t,” she hissed back.

“Then politely tell them to shut up—nicely.”

Her eyes flicked back just in time to see Jisung laugh at something Yujin said, his shoulders relaxed, his nerves gone. She clenched her fists.

“Ning—”

“You do not get to tell me to calm down,” she snapped, her voice low and deadly. “Not when you’re practically jumping Mark’s bones.”

Without waiting for his response, she stood abruptly, her chair scraping loudly against the floor.

“What’s your problem?” she seethed, glaring at Yujin. “This is a study group, not a flirting session. Your voice is giving me a headache, and I can’t even hear my own thoughts.”

The library fell silent. Students stared. Even the air seemed to still.

“Ningning…” Jisung started, wide-eyed.

“You. Shut up.” She stormed out, leaving everyone stunned. The other students didn’t even had the courage to silent them.

You blinked, sharing a glance with Haechan who was gathering not only his, but her belongings too before following his best friend.

“I’ll be right back,” you muttered, following Ningning’s perfume.

In the empty classroom, Ningning paced like a caged tiger, her fury palpable.

“I hate him. I hate her. I hate how they look at each other, how he’s so oblivious, and how I can’t stop caring!”

You wrapped your arms around her, holding her tightly. “Let it out.”

“She’s so annoying,” Ningning groaned, her voice muffled against your shoulder.

Haechan leaned casually against a table. “We could string him up with your webs,” he teased. “Leave him dangling for a bit.”

“That would teach him,” you agreed, flexing dramatically.

Ningning cracked a smile, her anger ebbing just a bit.

“Hae… do you mind if we work at my house? I don’t think I can face them now. Not only because of the shame, but… you know…” he nods, aknowledging why. But he hesitates a bit, pondering her offer, thinking about the whole reason behind this study group.

“You like him,” you whispered.

“I can’t.”

“You never stopped,” you said softly.

Her eyes shone with unshed tears, but she nodded forcefully. “Take me home?”

Haechan slung her bag over his shoulder. “Of course.”

You watched them leave, your heart heavy with empathy. Back in the library, you slipped into your seat.

“She needed to cool off,” you explained, looking pointedly at Yujin. “But she was right. This is a study group. Let’s focus.”

Mark leaned closer. “Is she okay?”

“Yeah,” you whispered. “Haechan’s got her.”

Silence settled as the group refocused, the weight of unspoken truths hanging thick in the air.

previous ⋆ series masterlist ⋆ next chapter

★ chapter 2 and a conflict already omg im so.... anticlimatica 😞

🏷 @jungaji @spacejip @lyvhie @sinisxtea @jirsungs @polarisjisung @chenlezip @ayukas @leleszn @mystverse @prologue-ae @hibernatinghamster @kj-kts @lovesuhng @haechanahceah67 @jeonghansshitester @hyusun @ncthoe69 @dawntyun @snowyseungs @bunnysoonie @haechansssun @n0hyuck @yvaniile @cheolcam @dreamwithlost @spiderm444rk @nosungluv @chenlesfavorite @nanaxwi @cosmic-marauder @yewshi @morkiee @jensdior @soggyfrogfarts @f6llsun @kittydollzz @nahyuckers @222brainrot @nctrawberries

#nct fanfic #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #mark fanfic #nct smau #nct social media au #mark imagines #aespa x reader #aespa imagines #aespa fanfic

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thelonelyfairy · 8 months ago

Text

Fractured Bonds

Chapter 2

(Toshinori x Reader x Aizawa)

Note: this chapter has about 7k words so buckle up! Also there won’t be any scenes between Toshinori and reader on this one so gather up Aizawa girlies 🫶 lastly, this chapter will contain spoilers from either season 4 or 5, you can stop reading after “the work-study program has always been…”

Update: Added a fanart of Aizawa/Reader (Yan) at the end made by the lovely @mananeez!

Masterlist Chapter 1 ch3

You finally caved in to Recovery Girl’s persistent requests to accompany Class 1-A on their USJ visit, given their frequent trips to the infirmary and avoiding more headaches on her end. Funny how fate plays out sometimes.

She had reassured you that Toshinori would be present, easing your worries about any direct interaction with your ex.

But as roll call begins and the students boarding the bus, All Might was nowhere to be found.

Sitting across from Aizawa, your nerves begin to stir in your chest. Your Kitsune picks up on it, curling in your lap and radiating warmth, calming the tension in your body.

In the back, the students laugh and bicker, showing how well they’d bonded despite Bakugo’s frequent outbursts. You tried to stifle a laugh but couldn’t hold it back.

It had been a long time since Aizawa had heard your laughter, or seen a genuine smile on your face. Far too long.

When the bus arrives at the arena, the scale of the place leaves you just as awestruck as the students. You’d never seen such a massive training center. As you all enter, Aizawa informs you that they’d be working with Thirteen, who soon briefs the students on the Unforeseen Simulation Joint and today’s focus on rescue abilities. She explains her Quirk, Black Hole. Dangerous, but capable of saving lives if handled correctly.

Once that’s all finished, Aizawa approaches Thirteen, “Let me guess, All Might booked an interview instead.”

A soft scoff leaves you before Thirteen announces the inconvenience, “Apparently he did too much hero work on the way to school this morning and used up all his power, he’s resting in the teacher’s lounge.”

Of course, you know that man well enough that he goes out of his way to care for his people, not for fame nor for money. You can already imagine him feeling guilty and helpless while Principal Nezu rambling his ass off about his philosophies.

“That man is the height of irresponsibility.” Aizawa sighs.

“Irresponsible or not, he’s still the Symbol of Peace. He’ll be back soon enough.” You counter, ex lover or not, you’ll go to the moon and back to defend Toshinori just like he did for you.

“Clock’s ticking,” Aizawa announces, disregarding your comment, “we should get started.”

Before you can dwell on it further, the air shifts, a subtle disturbance you can’t quite place. Your Kitsune leaves your body, ears twitching, sensing it as well as it growls. You glance toward Aizawa, who’s already on alert, his sharp eyes scanning the perimeter with Thirteen immediately on guard.

A dark, swirling portal materializes in the center of the USJ, figures begin to emerge—villains. Dozens of them. More than you’ve ever seen gathered in one place. The students freeze, their confusion quickly turning into fear.

“Aizawa!” you call, your voice tight with urgency.

“I see it,” he mutters, stepping forward, his scarf already unraveling as he places on his goggles.

“Stay back with the students. This is no place for you right now.” Without hesitation, he leaps forward, his capture scarf trailing behind him like a shadow.

You grit your teeth, instinctively wanting to rush forward, but you know he’s right. Your job is to protect the students first. You’re a nurse, after all. Your Kitsune begins to swirl around the students protectively as you turn toward the group of wide-eyed students.

“Let’s get to safety,” you command, ushering them toward the back exit, your voice calm despite the chaos around you.

The portal continues to spew out villains, and you can see Aizawa already in motion, darting into the fray. He’s a blur of calculated strikes, his scarf snapping out like a whip, disabling the quirks of those who dare get too close. But the numbers are overwhelming, and even Aizawa, as skilled as he is, can only handle so much at once.

“It’s locked!” Thirteen calls out, as you try to budge with your Kitsune’s strength, all but no hope.

A sickening sound cuts through the air. You whip around, your blood turning cold. Aizawa, mid-battle, is slammed to the ground by multiple villains. He struggles to get up, his scarf moving about to throw them unconscious as blood drips from his forehead, staining the ground beneath him.

Your heart stops. He’s injured. Badly.

You freeze, torn between staying with the students and rushing to Aizawa’s side. The instinct to protect him overwhelms you, but you can’t just leave these kids defenseless.

Panic claws at you from all sides, what are you supposed to do? Save Aizawa, or stay here and protect the students like you promised?

"Fox Face!" Thirteen's voice slices through your spiraling thoughts, her hand firm on your shoulder, her tone calm yet urgent. "Go. I’ve got things here. The students are safe with me, and we trust you—you were All Might’s sidekick after all." Her words hang in the air as the students nod in agreement, their eyes wide with a mix of fear and trust.

You hesitate for just a second, but Thirteen’s steady gaze holds yours. "He needs you."

That’s all it takes.

Without a second thought, your Kitsune retreats back to your body, its strength surges through you, its aura radiating from your body, your eyes glowing as your iris turns into slits. As you teleport straight to Aizawa’s side. The world blurs, and you appear in a swirl of glowing sakura blossoms, kunai ready.

Aizawa flinches as the pain in his body suddenly begins to ease. Bruises and cuts start to repair, your healing ofudas floating toward him, their energy absorbed into his skin. The warmth floods through his muscles, easing his exhaustion like a switch had been flipped—but that relief is quickly replaced by something sharper, anger.

"What the hell are you doing?" he snaps, his voice harsh as he pushes himself up, locking eyes with you from behind his goggles. "I told you to stay back with the students!"

"How are you supposed to fight if you’re injured?" you counter, approaching as you’re unfazed by his outburst, raising your hand to heal a cut on his brow.

"I’m fine," he growls, swatting away your hand. "You should’ve stayed with the kids. This isn’t—"

Before he can finish, a villain charges at you both. Reacting on instinct, you wrap your arms around Aizawa—feeling unexpected muscle beneath his dark uniform—before teleporting the two of you a few meters away in a flash of light. The villain stumbles in confusion, giving Aizawa the perfect opening. He regains his footing, whipping his scarf out to disarm the enemy and bring them down with brutal efficiency.

But his scowl remains.

"You’re reckless," he mutters as the fight continues, frustration lacing his words.

"And you’re stubborn," you shoot back, pulling a kunai strapped from your thigh and throwing it with precision, hitting another villain dead-on. "We’re a team. I’m not letting you face this alone."

Aizawa’s eyes narrow beneath his goggles, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, you both fall into a familiar rhythm, your movements perfectly in sync. You teleport into the fray, kunai slicing through the air with lethal accuracy, powered by your Kitsune’s spirit. Aizawa stays close, his scarf whipping through the chaos, disabling any villains who try to flank you.

It’s almost like old times—each of your moves complementing the other, his reflexes sharpening your attacks while you provide support and healing when needed.

But beneath the surface, Aizawa’s frustration simmers, it’s practically in the air, you know the conversation isn’t far from over.

As you glance toward the edge of the arena, your eyes lock onto a strange trio standing near the center of the USJ. One man appears to have no physical form, swirling with the same dark color as the portal that brought the villains into the facility. Beside him stands a beast, assuming to wield a mutation quirk, and the third—a white-haired man—observing the battle with a chilling detachment.

Whoever they are, they’re not just bystanders.

“Nomu…”

The voice catches you off guard—unexpectedly high-pitched, especially coming from the white-haired man whose intimidating physique suggests something much deeper. His red-rimmed eyes lock onto yours, and for a brief moment, everything else fades into the background. The battle, the noise, the chaos—it all blurs, and you’re left staring into the void that seems to echo within him.

Your breath catches as something deep inside you stirs, a pressure inside your chest that twists uncomfortably, almost suffocating, as if an invisible chain is tightening around you. Your Kitsune spirit trembles, and for the first time, you feel its power falter. Panic flickers in your veins, but you force it down, refusing to let him see your fear.

Your fingers twitch at your kunai, instinct urging you to move, to do something, but you’re frozen—eyes locked with his. He takes a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours.

The man tilts his head, his eyes narrowing slightly as a twisted smile hinted beneath the decaying hand covering the lower half of his face.

"Her."

The Nomu lunges, unleashing its power against you.

Aizawa panicked, quickly throwing off the villains that were pinning him down and sprinting to your side. You'd only ever stopped Toshinori's full strength once, and even then, you weren't sure if he was using everything he had. But one thing was clear is this beast, this Nomu, is at least as strong as Toshinori, if not more so.

Your feet barely touches the ground as Nomu's iron grip closes around your neck, squeezing the air from your lungs.

Your feet barely touched the ground as Nomu's iron grip closed around your neck, squeezing the air from your lungs. The Kitsune inside you fought to keep you conscious, but the lack of oxygen was making your vision blur.

The Nomu hurls you into the corner, near the water of the shipwreck, its gaze locking onto yours as you struggle to catch your breath. Before you can react, it wraps your wrists in one of its massive hands and starts dragging you toward the white haired man. You curse under your breath, teleporting was impossible with its grip on you.

"Aren't you going to save your little friend, EraserHead?" The man's voice remains disturbingly calm.

Without hesitation, Aizawa charges forward, the man doing the same.

Aizawa lands a sharp elbow to the man's stomach, but the villain swiftly grabs his arm in a tight grip.

You can't hear their exchange, only the sickening sound of skin decaying and Aizawa's pained gasp.

“Fox Face!” Aizawa shouts, shoving the villain aside with force as he sees your eyes close, your head slumping forward as the Nomu releases its hold on you. Your body collapses to the ground, unconscious.

“By the way…” the Nomu moves to stand beside its master. For the first time since his school days, Aizawa’s body freezes, paralyzed, unable to tell if you’re still breathing.

“I am not the final boss.”

The Nomu lands a brutal hit, leaving Aizawa’s goggles in the air, his blood pooling around, painting the ground crimson as the Nomu begins to grab a fistful of his hair, smashing his face to the ground over and over.

"Oh, before we go, let’s make sure the Symbol of Peace is shattered," the man’s red eyes lock onto your still body.

His hand moves toward you, deliberately slow, each finger stretching out as it inches closer to the top of your head, ready to make contact with all five fingers. He could already see it, the decay of All Might’s previous sidekick, presumed lover, all in ashes. Nothing.

But none came.

The man chuckles, “You really are so cool.”

With all of his might, Aizawa lifts his head, his blood spilling on his face as the cluster of veins and redness of his eyes holds you in place. Breathing or not, he can’t fathom the idea of you out of his existence.

Many years ago

The first day at U.A. High School was a whirlwind, with you still adjusting to your new classmates. You stood beside your brother, Oboro Shirakumo, who was already chatting with two students. As always, Shirakumo’s bright personality drew people in, while you kept more to yourself, quietly observing.

"Hey! This is my sister, Yan!" Shirakumo suddenly announced, pulling you into the conversation as he introduced you to the two classmates, Hizashi and Nemuri. The unexpected attention made you flinch slightly. "She’s gonna wipe the floor with all of you, just watch!" His grin earned a chuckle from Hizashi, while Nemuri raised an eyebrow, smirking.

"Nice to meet you!" Nemuri said playfully. "I’ll believe it when I see it."

You laughed lightly, still unaccustomed to the spotlight. Before you could respond, your gaze was drawn to a student standing off to the side. He was tall, quiet, with shaggy black hair partially covering his face. His arms were crossed, and he seemed disinterested in the lively conversation unfolding nearby.

"That’s Aizawa," Shirakumo leaned over, noticing your wandering eyes. "He’s a bit quiet, but he’s sharp. Really smart."

As if sensing the conversation, Aizawa glanced in your direction. You quickly looked away, but not before noticing the intrigue in his eyes.

A few months into the school year, you headed towards training grounds on your own, bathed in the fading light of the setting sun. Most students had gone home, but you remained, practicing your kunai throws. Each one hit the bullseye, but something felt off. No matter how perfect the throws were, they didn’t feel right.

"You're overthinking it."

Startled, you turned sharply, cursing yourself for not noticing Aizawa standing by the fence. He leaned against it, arms crossed, as silent and unreadable as ever.

"What do you mean?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He hops over with no trouble as he approaches slowly, his footsteps deliberate. "Your movements are stiff. You’re second-guessing every throw." His voice was calm and matter-of-fact, though not harsh.

You huffed, glancing back at the target. “Alright then, what do I need to work on?”

Aizawa stepped closer, his presence oddly calming despite his usual stoic demeanor. “Don’t think. Just throw.”

You hesitated, feeling an unexpected flutter in your chest. His gaze was sincere, and there was a softness in his expression you hadn’t noticed before. With a deep breath, you pushed away your nerves, refocused on the target, and let the kunai fly.

The blade sailed through the air and struck dead center.

Aizawa gave a small nod. “See? You’re better when you trust yourself.”

"Guess I owe you one," you said, half-joking but grateful.

Aizawa shrugged, his usual stoic air returning, though there was a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Just don’t overdo it. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard about that hero work study.”

As the sunlight bathed the training field, you noticed how it caught Aizawa’s features—the sharp angles of his face, his dark hair falling messily over his eyes. In that moment, he was no longer just your classmate or your brother’s best friend. There was something more, something that made your heart race in a way you hadn’t expected.

His eyes lingered on yours for a moment, and you thought you saw a flicker of warmth in his usual cool gaze.

"Good luck with that," he added, his tone softer than usual, almost teasing.

Aizawa turned to leave, a small, rare smile crossed Aizawa’s face as he disappeared from view, leaving you standing there with a sense that something between you had shifted.

In the second year, the U.A. training grounds buzzed with activity as students prepared for their now-mandatory hero work studies. Amid the hustle, Aizawa stood apart, a frown creasing his brow as doubt clouded his thoughts. Watching his classmates give their all, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling of not measuring up. The weight of expectations sat heavily on him, and the thought of failure gnawed at his confidence.

“Hey,” you called, approaching more quicker as you note the tension in his posture. “What’s wrong? You look like you’re about to pass out.”

Aizawa glanced at you, frustration and embarrassment flickering across his face as he gently pushed away your healing ofudas. “I don’t know if I’m cut out for this mandatory work study. Everyone else seems to have it figured out.”

“You’re an amazing hero, Aizawa. Don’t let self-doubt trip you up. You just need to train harder and trust yourself.”

He shrugged, avoiding eye contact. “It’s not that simple, and your overly cheery advice isn’t exactly helping.”

“Well, let’s train together, then,” you offered, brushing off his cold response with determination shining in your eyes. “I owed you one from last time anyways.”

He raised an eyebrow, “You really think I need help?”

“Everyone needs help sometimes,” you shrug.

After a moment of hesitation, Aizawa nodded, and the two of you moved to a quieter section of the training grounds that already had a series of obstacles placed around, demonstrating your agility with the Kitsune energy swirling around you, leaping, dodging, and striking with precision. Aizawa watched closely, studying every movement as you flawlessly navigated the course.

“Your turn,” you said, stepping aside to give him space. “Focus on agility and timing. Don’t let your quirk limit you.”

With a deep sigh, Aizawa stepped forward, determined to overcome his doubts. He began working through the obstacles, his performance mixed with moments of success and frustration. Each misstep weighed on him, feeding the sense of pressure.

“Don’t let your mind get in the way. Trust your instincts.”

Taking a deep breath, he tried again, concentrating harder. Slowly, with each attempt, he began to improve, but the doubts still lingered. He glanced your way, seeing nothing but encouragement in your eyes.

“You’re doing great!” you cheered, your enthusiasm lifting his spirits.

Fueled by your support, Aizawa pushed himself harder. The obstacles seemed less intimidating, and with every completed run, he felt his confidence build.

“Now try using your quirk!” you encouraged.

He nodded, activating his quirk, his hair lifting as his eyes glowed red with his scarf extended, helping him move through the course more fluidly. The challenge increased, but so did his sense of accomplishment.

“See? You’ve got this!” you called, clapping your hands in excitement. “All you needed was to believe in yourself!”

Breathing heavily, Aizawa finally stopped, a rare smile breaking through his stoic exterior as blinks, his hair fell forward to mask it. “I think I’m starting to get the hang of it,” he said, a quiet pride settling in.

You approached him, beaming. “I knew you could do it! Just remember, you don’t have to shoulder everything on your own.”

The moon hung low in the sky, bathing the quiet streets of Musutafu in a soft, silvery glow. As you walked toward your family’s apartment, your mind wandered after a long day at U.A. Absentmindedly, you kicked a pebble down the dimly lit alleyways, your Kitsune spirit lazily trailing behind.

Passing a narrow alley, your Kitsune suddenly turned, drawn by something. You followed its gaze and froze. There, slumped against a wall wrapped in his familiar capture weapon, was Aizawa. His dark hair obscured his face, and his sharp eyes were closed in exhausted sleep. His chest rose and fell steadily, but the scene was far from peaceful.

You stood still, staring in disbelief as your Kitsune spirit retreated back into your body. “Aizawa?” you whispered, the sight of him sleeping in an alley catching you off guard.

The realization hit hard. You knew Aizawa well enough to understand his desire to keep things private, but this? You had no idea it had gotten this bad. He always seemed so self-reliant, never asking for help, yet here he was, sleeping in an alleyway, leaving your heart dropping to your stomach.

You crouched beside him, hesitant, your hand hovering before pulling it back. "Aizawa," you whispered again, this time softer.

He stirred, his eyes fluttering open. Groggily, he squinted up at you. "Yan?" His voice was barely audible.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, though the answer was painfully clear. “You’re… sleeping here?”

He sat up slowly, running a hand through his disheveled hair, clearly uncomfortable. “It’s nothing,” he muttered, avoiding your gaze. “Just… had nowhere to go tonight.”

Your chest tightened at his admission. “How long has this been going on?” you asked gently, trying not to push too hard.

Aizawa shrugged, his usual stoic demeanor cracking. “A while,” he said quietly. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll manage.”

“Manage?” you echoed in disbelief. “Aizawa, you’re sleeping in an alley. This is not okay.”

He fell silent, staring at the ground. You could tell he hated this—hated the vulnerability, the pity. No wonder he’d been dozing off in class so much recently.

Without hesitation, you stood and offered him a hand. “Come on,” you said firmly.

“What?” Aizawa frowned, confused.

“You’re not staying here. You’re coming with me. You can sleep at my place.”

He hesitated, concern flickering in his eyes. “Yan, I can’t—”

“I’m not giving you a choice,” you interrupted, leaving no room for debate. “You can sneak into my room through the window. No one will know, not even Oboro—he’s always glued to his computer all night. You can stay as long as you need.”

Aizawa stared at you, torn. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re not a burden,” you reassured him, your voice softening. “We’re friends, right? What did I say last time? You don’t have to shoulder everything alone.”

He sighed, exhaustion winning out over his pride. “If you’re sure…”

“I’m sure,” you smiled. “And don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”

After a moment, he reluctantly took your hand. You bit back a cringe as you helped him to his feet. “Thanks,” he muttered, his gratitude quiet but genuine.

“Anytime,” you reassured, already planning out how to sneak him in unnoticed.

As the two of you made your way back to your apartment, you kept glancing at him, your heart heavy for the boy who carried more than anyone realized.

When you reached the fire escape, your Kitsune lowered the ladder with ease, and soon, you were both standing outside your window.

“Take off your clothes,”

Aizawa blinked, stunned. “Wh—?”

“Not like that!” you spoke in a low enough for him to hear, “You were sleeping in an alley. I don’t want all that in my room!” You kicked off your shoes, placing it at the fire escape balcony you’re both on and slid open the window, relieved that your mother did not lock it this time.

He chuckled, remembering your slight germaphobia from class. He quickly shed his outer clothes, folding them at the other end of the balcony along with his capture weapon, leaving only his undergarments as you instructed.

“I’ll get the shower ready,” you inform as you head toward the bathroom, your bathroom.

Aizawa couldn’t help but notice how different your lifestyle was—quietly wealthy but never flaunted. The Shirakumo family definitely raised both you and Oboro well, something he wished his own family would’ve done.

You motioned for him to follow, “There’s a fresh towel and some unused toiletries over there…” He glanced around, noticing the pink, white, and floral décor—completely opposite of his usual style.

“The soap and shampoo are floral-scented too,” you added with a slight apology. “So, you might end up smelling kind of...girly. Hope that’s okay.”

He chuckled softly. “I don’t mind. Thanks for everything.”

You left him to his privacy and went to grab some blankets and pillows, hoping he wouldn’t mind what you had. Mentally, you made a note to pick up something more suited to his taste tomorrow after school.

After his quick shower, wrapped in floral-scented towels, he settled near your bed, sinking into the plush pillows and blankets you’d laid out for him.

As you handed him a blanket to pull himself over, your hands brushed for a brief second. You face reddens while Aizawa allowed himself a small, grateful smile in return, hopefully he’ll like this one more than the others.

“Hello Kitty?”

You sigh, before you can apologize, he asks, “Wait, who's this one?”

“Ah that’s Chococat!” Your voice still hushed, “he’s a quiet cat, of course you’d like him,”

Aizawa released a soft chuckle, “Thanks, Yan,”

“Of course, Aizawa,” you replied, settling into bed yourself.

“Shouta,” he corrected, his voice gentle. “Call me Shouta from now on.”

Your eyes widened at the request, but before you could respond, he had already pulled the blanket over himself, the exhaustion finally winning over. For the first time in a long while, he looked at ease. As you settled into bed, you made a quiet promise to always be there for him, no matter what.

The night was quiet, the faint rustling of leaves outside barely breaking the stillness as Shouta lay in the dark, wrapped in the Chococat blanket you’d given him with a matching pajama that you bought, he offered a quiet thanks, when deep down he grew fond of the black cartoon cat. Months had passed since the incident, and he stared at the ceiling of your small room, exhaustion sinking deep into his bones. It had been a long day—made longer by the clear realization that you had sneaked him into your home, offering a kindness he wasn’t sure he deserved.

He absentmindedly flipped through his English book, one with a romance theme, occasionally thinking about words to describe you. Yet, ‘beautiful’ just didn’t seem to cut it.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t find the right words. What you meant to him, how he felt for you—there were no terms that fit. Maybe it was a failure of the English language, or maybe it was just him struggling to understand his own feelings.

No one had ever taught Shouta how to love. He’d never planned to, not until he met you.

What he did know was that you were captivating in every way, and it was becoming increasingly hard to focus on the pages in front of him.

Just as he was about to give up, a sound broke through the silence—soft, but unmistakable.

You stirred restlessly in your bed, your breaths uneven and ragged, and Shouta immediately sat up, his senses alert.

"Yan?" he whispered, concern laced in his voice.

You didn’t answer. Your face was twisted with distress as your body tense, trapped in a nightmare. Another whimper escaped your lips as you shifted under the covers, bracing yourself against some unseen terror.

Shouta hesitated. He wasn’t good at comforting people. But seeing you like this, his instincts took over. After all you’d done for him—giving him a place to stay, helping with his hero work studies—this was the least he could do.

He got up from his makeshift bed and quietly approached yours. “Yan,” he called softly, gently placing a hand on your arm, giving you a light shake. "It’s not real, wake up."

Your eyes shot open suddenly, your breath catching in your throat as you sat upright. For a moment, you seemed lost, your gaze unfocused, until you finally registered where you were—and who was beside you.

“Shouta?” you gaze up, your voice hoarse from the remnants of the nightmare.

"Yeah," he replied softly, his hand still on your arm. "You were having a nightmare."

You exhaled shakily, trying to compose yourself. "I’m sorry," you muttered, your voice trembling. "I didn’t mean to wake you."

"You didn’t," he assured you. "You’re alright?"

You nodded, though the trembling in your hands said otherwise. You were trying to hide it, but Shouta could see how much the nightmare had shaken you.

After a pause, he gently slid his hand away. “Do you… want to talk about it?"

You shook your head, your shoulders slumping. "No, it’s the same as always. They come and go."

Shouta remained silent, eyes downcast. He knew what it was like to not want to talk about things, so he didn’t push. But something inside him urged him to offer more.

“Move over,” he said quietly, before he could second-guess himself.

You blinked, taken aback. “What?”

He glanced at the narrow space on your bed. “Just… move over.”

Though surprised, you shifted to make room. Shouta climbed in beside you, lying on his back and pulling the blanket over the both of you. He didn’t say anything more, but his presence spoke volume.

You looked over at him, still shaken but feeling comforted by the quiet gesture. “You don’t have to—”

“I know,” he interrupted, his voice steady. “But I’m here.”

For a while, neither of you spoke. The room was quiet, save for the distant hum of the city. Slowly, your breathing steadied, the nightmare’s grip loosening with Shouta’s presence beside you. You found yourself watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest, his calmness grounding you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, barely audible.

Shouta didn’t reply, but you felt him shift a little closer, his arm brushing yours in a simple yet comforting touch. He wasn’t one for flowery words, but his actions were louder than anything he could say.

With him beside you, your eyes began to grow heavy again. For the first time in a while, you felt truly safe—as if your nightmares couldn’t reach you with Shouta there.

Just before you drifted off, you whispered, “I’m glad you’re here.”

Shouta lowered his gaze, his expression softening as he watched the peacefulness return to your face. “Me too,”

The U.A. School Festival was in full swing, and Class 2-A had chosen to put on a theatrical performance as their contribution. They all agreed a play would be the perfect way to showcase their quirks while providing some lighthearted entertainment. The theme? A dramatic fantasy adventure—complete with a brave knight, a cunning sorceress, a wise king, and, Shouta, much to his reluctance, had been cast as the villain— a dragon disguised as a dark sorcerer.

The auditorium buzzed with excitement, the audience eagerly awaiting the show. The lights dimmed, and the curtains rose.

“Fear not, I will save the kingdom from the evil sorcerer’s clutches!” Shirakumo bellowed, swinging his sword with exaggerated flair. His armor gleamed under the stage lights as he charged forward.

Dressed in a flowing gown, you stood at the edge of the stage, your Kitsune spirit subtly swirling around you, adding an ethereal touch. “Be careful, noble knight,” you said with a serious tone, barely managing to keep a straight face, “The dark sorcerer’s power is too great!”

Behind the curtains, Shouta sighed, waiting for his cue.

Hizashi entered in bright royal robes and a ridiculous crown, brimming with energy as the king. “You must save my daughter and defeat the dragon! The kingdom’s fate is in your hands!” He waved his arms dramatically, earning laughter from the crowd.

Nemuri, in her sorceress costume, floated onto the stage in a puff of smoke, trying not to accidentally use her quirk and knock the audience out. She tossed an apple to Shirakumo with a smirk. “With this, you shall gain the strength to defeat the dragon. But beware—his magic is dangerous.”

Finally, Shouta stepped onto the stage, tall and brooding, his dark aura accentuated by his flowing hair and glowing red eyes. The crowd gasped. He stood in silence for a moment, letting the tension build before delivering his line in a low, gravelly voice. “Foolish mortals, you cannot hope to defeat me.”

Shirakumo, ever the energetic knight, took a bite of the apple before throwing it to the side, pointing his sword at Shouta as the final battle began. He eventually stood triumphantly over Shouta, the crowd holding its breath, anticipating the princess’s moment to thank the knight.

But then, Shirakumo collapsed flat on his face.

The audience murmured in confusion as Shirakumo lay motionless on the stage, clearly out of character. You blinked down at him, unsure of what to do—this wasn’t in the script.

Nemuri leaned over Shirakumo’s ‘unconscious’ body, a mischievous grin on her face as she added a dramatic pause. “It seems the knight has fallen,” she purred. “Perhaps the apple was too much for him,” drawing laughter from the crowd.

“And perhaps… there’s another way to save the kingdom.”

You glanced at her, eyebrows raised, lines completely forgotten. From backstage, Hizashi stifled a laugh, and the atmosphere shifted.

Shouta, still playing the dark sorcerer, looked down at Shirakumo before his glowing red eyes settled on you. His expression was unreadable, though his eyes narrowed slightly, as if trying to figure out what was happening. Nemuri threw a sly wink in your direction.

“Uh…” you stammered, scrambling to stay in character. “How else can the kingdom be saved?”

Nemuri, grinning fully now, stood up and dramatically pointed at Shouta. “The sorcerer has not been defeated, but perhaps… love can conquer even the darkest magic.”

The audience began to murmur, some whispering to each other, wondering if this was even part of the original script.

Before you could react, Hizashi’s voice boomed from offstage, clearly enjoying this far too much. “Yes! Love is the key!” Nemuri pushed on, “Princess, you must act quickly before the kingdom falls into eternal darkness!”

Shouta stood there, expression stoic but unwavering, his eyes locked on yours. It was too late to back down now.

Stepping forward, you felt the weight of the audience’s gaze. You met Shouta’s eyes, and for a moment, it felt like the entire stage had faded away, leaving just the two of you.

Taking a deep breath, you whispered, “I suppose… this is how the kingdom is saved.” Your heart raced as you placed a hand on his chest, your gaze never leaving his.

Shouta, ever composed, raised an eyebrow in silent question, and you gave a subtle nod. He leans in, gently raising your chin before closing the gap between you. The soft touch of his lips against yours sent a spark through you, the kiss gentle but lingering.

The crowd gasped in unison, and whistles broke out from the back, undoubtedly from Hizashi. The kiss deepened for a brief moment before you pulled away, your face flushed, Shouta’s usually stoic expression softened with something unspoken as his hair settled and his eyes returned to normal.

Behind you, Nemuri let out a dramatic sigh. “Behold!” she declared, arms outstretched. “The princess has saved the kingdom with the power of love!”

The audience erupted into applause and cheers, some students laughing at the unexpected twist, while others swooned at the romantic turn.

You turned to face the crowd, your cheeks still burning, only to see Shirakumo peeking one eye open from the floor, barely suppressing his laughter.

“That… wasn’t part of the script,” you muttered, catching your breath.

Shouta, back to his usual calm demeanor, though the faintest hint of a smile tugged at his lips.

As the curtain fell, Nemuri and Hizashi bounded over, grinning from ear to ear.

“That was genius!” Hizashi cheered, clapping you both on the back and nearly knocking you into each other. “Way better than what we had planned!”

Nemuri winked at you. “I knew it would be perfect. Who doesn’t love a good plot twist?”

You glanced at Shouta, hesitating, silently wondering if he felt the same way. He sighed, a faint smile still on his face. “You’re overthinking,” he muttered before gently pulling you backstage.

“None of you better knock unless you’d want my scarf wrapped around your throats.”

The end of the school year was fast approaching, and with it, the looming reality of graduation. You sat on the edge of the fire escape balcony as the sun begins to set, your legs dangling over as the cool breeze plays with your hair. Beside you, Shouta leans back against the building, a shoulder wrapped around you with his usual calm demeanor slightly more relaxed than normal.

You sigh, resting your head on his shoulder. "Graduation feels… weird. Like we’ve been working toward it for so long, and now that it’s here, it doesn’t feel real."

Shouta nodded, "Yeah. Everything’s about to change." He paused, glancing at you. "What about you? Have you figured out where you’re going after this?"

You smiled, though her eyes were distant. "I’m not sure yet. Hopefully anything within the medical field, or maybe in a rescue agency.,” you shrugged. "It’s just an idea. What about you?”

Shouta shifted slightly, "There’s plenty of work to do here. A lot of people who need protection, me, Oboro and Yamada were actually thinking of opening our own agency."

You turned to face him fully, a slight smile on your lips. "You think we can make it work? We’re gonna be super busy, maybe even needing to relocate,"

He met your gaze, his dark eyes steady and serious. "We’ll make it work. I’m not worried about that, if this agency thing works out, it’ll be enough to have our own place.”

You reached out to take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. "I like that confidence."

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, his lips quirking up into a rare smile. "I have to be confident. You’re a handful."

You laughed, the sound light and melodic, a sound that Shouta would never get bored of.

"Just know that I’m not letting you go that easily, Yan."

The work-study program had always been a crucial part of training, but with graduation so close, it felt like this was everyone’s final real-world test before stepping into full-fledged hero careers. You, Shouta, and your classmates were deployed to different areas of the city. You were no longer simple students—You were all heroes in training, and the safety of civilians rested in your hands.

You were assigned at Tatami Ward, where a massive villain, Garvey, was causing havoc. Garvey was no ordinary villain; According to his rapport, he had a powerful stockpiling quirk, allowing him to absorb attacks and release them with devastating force. His rampage had left parts of the city in ruins, and backup was immediately called in.

After a quick briefing, saying your goodbyes to your friends and a kiss to your lover, to which he promised he’ll keep your brother safe before you all part ways.

You were stationed with Hizashi, responsible for ensuring civilians were evacuated safely and tending to the injured. As the EMTs worked tirelessly to treat those who were wounded, you used your Kitsune spirit to heal and protect those who were caught in the crossfire.

Everything seemed to be going well on your end—no civilian casualties, thanks to Kitsune's healing abilities. But there was still worry in your heart. You hadn’t heard much from Aizawa or Oboro since the battle began, and the uncertainty gnawed at you.

You pressed the speaker in your ear, checking for updates. "Shouta? Oboro? Are you there?" You called out. Aizawa was mumbling, unable to catch his words , you tried again with Oboro, only to meet a sharp ringing on his end that you quickly shut off.

Your mind began to race. Shouta had a habit of focusing intensely during battle, so it wasn’t entirely unusual for him to ignore communications. But Oboro—he would never leave you hanging like this.

"Something’s wrong," you muttered to yourself. You spotted Hizashi’s ship, given from the Buster Union agency as he landed near you and immediately rushed over.

“Hizashi, please,” you begged, grabbing his arm. “I need to go where Shouta and Oboro are. Something’s wrong, they aren’t responding to me.”

Hizashi, always quick to react when it came to his friends, nodded without question. He brought you aboard, and the two of you soared towards the last known location of Shouta and Oboro. As you got closer, the smoke and debris became clearer, and your stomach twisted in knots.

When you two arrived, the battle was already over. Garvey lay unconscious, his colossal form defeated by Aizawa and Oboro’s teamwork. You sigh with relief at the sight of the downed villain, but something felt off.

"Shouta!" You called out, rushing toward him. But

your breath caught in your throat when you followed his gaze.

Oboro's lower body lay crumpled, toppled by multiple amounts of boulders as blood began to stain the concrete.

“No,” you whispered, stumbling toward, ignoring the blood splashing the soles of your shoes. “No, no, no!” Your Kitsune spirit frantically tries to sense any life left in him. There was nothing.

"He’s gone…" Shouta whispers,

Oboro had been there for your whole life, through everything, the one who always made you laugh when the world felt too heavy, the one that reassured you when your parents never understood you, the one that threw you boxes filled with donuts to treat your sweet tooth cravings.

And now… he was gone. Your vision blurred with tears, but those tears quickly snapped to anger.

Aizawa stood frozen, unable to move, unable to process what had happened. But your grief twisted into rage, and suddenly, your Kitsune took over, feeding on your pain and anger.

With a swift turn, kunai in hand, your eyes began to glow a harsh blue with sharp slits filled with fury.

"Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I thought he was still alive… I heard him talking to me—“

"I could’ve saved him!"

Aizawa stepped back, his own guilt reflected in his eyes, but before you could land a hit, Hizashi grabbed your arms and pulled you back with a strong grip, dropping your kunai.

"Yan! Stop!" Hizashi shouted, holding you tightly as you struggled against him.

"I could’ve saved him! You promised me! YOU’RE A LIAR—!" Your words broke into sobs, your body trembling with grief.

A soft voice cut through the chaos. Nemuri had arrived in perfect timing, and in a swift, gentle move, she used her quirk. "Sleep," she whispered.

Your eyes fluttered shut as her fog begins to cloud your vision, your body going limp in Hizashi’s arms. The tears still streamed down your face as you were placed gently on Nemuri’s lap, eyes closing shut as the world darkens.

—-

Hopefully this super adorable art of Reader and Aizawa during UA cheers you up from this angsty ending! The art is from the lovely mananeez go support her! ❤️🫶

#aizawa x reader #eraserhead x reader #fractured bonds #shouta aizawa #shouta aizawa x reader

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exitpro · 2 years ago

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#exit interview program #exit survey #exit interview

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mariacallous · 11 days ago

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It ended, of course, with a tweet. Late on Wednesday evening, Elon Musk announced the official end of his short, traumatic tenure as the head of a made-up agency called the Department of Government Efficiency. Musk’s post on X, the social-media network he owns and had sought to weaponize in service of a radical cost-costing assault on the federal government, was brief. After thanking Donald Trump for “the opportunity to reduce wasteful spending,” the world’s richest man, deflated but still defiant, added, “The @DOGE mission will only strengthen over time as it becomes a way of life throughout the government.”

The reviews of Musk’s rampage through Washington have been, deservedly, vicious: Who, during the past few crazy months, could have possibly failed to take note of his toxic combination of entitlement and ignorance, his vastly overstated claims, and his move-fast-and-break-things ethos that has resulted in wreckage that will take years to fully assess? Musk, the largest individual donor in a single election cycle in American history, seemed to truly believe what his critics feared—that his hundreds of millions of dollars spent on behalf of Trump and Republican causes had purchased him an outsized share of the Presidency itself. He sought to collect in unprecedented fashion, installing himself in the White House at Trump’s side, helicoptering around on Marine One with his young son in tow, speaking at Cabinet meetings though he held no formal Senate-confirmed seat at the table. He demanded sensitive government data on millions of Americans, empowered a former intern known online as Big Balls, and blew up the U.S.’s foreign-aid program. In February, he cavorted onstage at a conservative event with a chainsaw—no metaphorical subtlety there—and, when he fired thousands of workers and abolished entire agencies, he became the gleeful personification of the G.O.P.’s decades-long campaign to denigrate and downsize America’s federal government.

In a round of exit interviews this week, Musk has sounded all the predictable notes of a naïve billionaire businessman mugged by Washington’s political reality. He told the Washington Post that he found things were “much worse” than he’d realized inside the federal bureaucracy, and that it actually turned out to be an “uphill battle” to take that chainsaw to the government. In an interview on “CBS News Sunday Morning,” he started the messy work of separating himself from the President. “I was, like, disappointed to see the massive spending bill, frankly,” Musk admitted, given that Trump’s “big, beautiful” tax cuts for the rich and spending cuts for the poor will add trillions of dollars to the budget deficit. Stating the obvious, which, these days, counts as an act of lèse-majesté among the Republican sycophants who surround Trump, Musk added that the measure “undermines the work that the DOGE team is doing.” (What a “lie,” Stephen Miller, Trump’s deputy chief of staff, said, though it was not.) Trump himself, as is often the case, was embarrassingly direct about why he had sold out Musk. “We have to get a lot of votes, we can’t be cutting—we need to get a lot of support,” he told reporters in the White House on Wednesday when asked specifically about the comment from Musk. Revealingly, Trump never even mentioned Musk’s name.

Watching Trump casually brush off the sidekick who stuck to him like glue for most of the Administration’s first few months, I couldn’t help but think of Reince Priebus, the first-term White House chief of staff, who was dumped via tweet while deboarding Air Force One and left on the tarmac of Joint Base Andrews as Trump’s motorcade roared off without him. The truth is that Trump can hardly afford one of those messy divorces at which both he and Musk excel; he still needs Musk, who has talked of spending another hundred million dollars of his fortune to help pro-Trump groups before next year’s midterm elections. The oligarch may have left the building, but it’s not clear the President can afford to live without him.

I was in Madison Square Garden last October when Musk, during an election rally for Trump, claimed that he would slash an incredible two trillion dollars, at least, from the U.S. budget—a remarkable bit of bravado that got less attention than the rally’s headline-making racism and its Trump-as-Dear-Leader vibe. Later, Musk dialled his ambitions back to cutting a cool trillion dollars. Of course, that was never going to happen, either, as anyone who’d ever spent a minute in Washington could have told Musk, had he cared to listen.

For all of Musk’s breathless early claims of “revolution,” the final tally of his efforts appears to have been somewhere around a hundred and fifty billion dollars. And even that is unlikely to stand. Many of the savings that Musk bragged about on the DOGE website proved to be nonexistent; numerous agencies and departments he attacked are now suing to block the wave of firings and cuts that he set in motion. In the end, his reckless approach to cutting, with little or no thought to the consequences, may cost the government as much as a hundred and thirty-five billion dollars this fiscal year alone, according to recent estimates from the Partnership for Public Service. Turns out it’s not cheap to place tens of thousands of workers on paid leave and to rehire mistakenly fired employees, never mind dealing with the lost productivity of a traumatized and uncertain workforce. Who’d have thought?

Musk’s failure to follow through on his boasts, though, should not detract from a clear-eyed assessment of the extraordinary amount of damage he succeeded in wreaking. The wise men are laughing Musk out of town, and I get it. His “performative vandalism,” as Jonah Goldberg put it on CNN, was in some respects just a pernicious, highly dangerous new variant of a Washington perennial: the pol who makes promises he cannot keep. But it is hard to think of any other unelected official who has done so much harm to the U.S. government in such a short period of time. The fact that the deficit may get even bigger at the end of the day only worsens the injury.

A few hours before Musk’s announcement, I spoke with one of his many thousands of victims. Until a few weeks ago, Mary Boyle was a commissioner at the Consumer Product Safety Commission, the historically bipartisan agency that, for more than fifty years, has insured that America’s car seats and toaster ovens and baby strollers are safe. Boyle, one of three Democratic appointees on the commission, recounted how Musk’s men had effectively ended her office’s work in a matter of hours. First came the rumor, on the evening of Wednesday, May 7th: “DOGE is coming.” By 2 P.M. the next day, two young men had appeared at the agency’s offices, in Bethesda, Maryland. At 3:45 P.M., Boyle and the other commissioners received an e-mail from the commission’s acting Republican chairman, informing them that he planned to bring on the two DOGErs who, “at no expense to the Commission,” would help the agency “with the assessment and enhancement of internal processes and operational procedures.” The commissioners had until 6 P.M., he said, to let him know “whether I have your support.” It would be funny if it weren’t the kind of thing that should have remained inconceivable in a functioning democracy: Here are the guys who are going to put us out of business, and they come real cheap. Boyle sent her reply, a single-word e-mail: “No.” Not even an hour later, while pulled over at a rest stop on the New Jersey Turnpike, she received a response of sorts, from Trent Morse, the deputy head of the White House’s personnel office: “Mary, on behalf of President Donald J. Trump, I am writing to inform you that your position on the Consumer Product Safety Commission is terminated effectively immediately. Thank you for your service.”

It did not seem to matter that the Consumer Product Safety Commission had been set up by Congress, had its budget provided by Congress, and had its commissioners confirmed by Congress. The law itself governing the agency, first passed back in 1972, could not be more clear: there were only two reasons to fire a commissioner—“neglect of duty” or “malfeasance in office.” Boyle now finds herself as the lead plaintiff in a case she never expected to file: Boyle v. Trump. Although the attack on her agency was “brazen” and “baldly illegal,” Boyle told me that she knows it just might succeed. The day after she and her colleagues filed their lawsuit last week, the Supreme Court indicated that it might strike down the precedent dating back to the New Deal era that protects the commissioners of independent agencies from being fired by the President. In the meantime, you can forget about new rules to restrict potentially dangerous ion batteries in e-bikes and scooters that the Consumer Product Safety Commission was working on. Thanks, Elon.

Musk’s casualties are not only in Washington but all over the world, in refugee camps and scientific labs whose funding was abruptly cut off, in national parks you can’t get into this summer, and in communities across the country where polluters will no longer be prosecuted. All of this upheaval “is going to affect the functioning of the government in ways we can’t even anticipate,” Boyle told me. She is right. We have been warned.

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mirai-e-jump · 5 months ago

Text

Animage February 2025 Issue ft. Shoji Kohei Interview (translation below)

Publication: January 9, 2025

That man, is Vram

Shouma and Hanto discover that they're both transforming into Kamen Riders. Making her exit is Siita, second daughter of the Stomach Family, the biggest enemy to Shouma and his friends. As thrilling developments unfold each week, a new Kamen Rider has joined the fray in "Kamen Rider Gavv." His name, is Vram. Known as Lage 9, he's a Granute who's been employed by Stomach Inc and can transform into a Kamen Rider.

Shouma, born between a human and a Granute, transforms into Gavv. Then came Valen, who the human Hanto transforms into. Many fans may have predicted that the one to transform into the tertiary Rider would be a Granute. However, the "man" known as Lage 9 is more than just an enemy to fight. While he pretends to not be interested in the reward of dark sweets, when he negotiates with Nyelv, who approached him with a secret job behind president Lango's back, it becomes apparent that he has his own agenda, but what are his true intentions?

Before Granute Lage 9, Shoji Kohei-san passionately played the role of Crystaria Takamichi (KiramaiSilver) in "Mashin Sentai Kiramager." A complete departure from his role as a powerful and lively man, it'll be interesting to see how he'll play the role of a lazy and mysterious monster!

-Working together to express Vram's sense of strength-

"It's not often that a person who plays a hero in the Super Sentai series then goes onto playing the role of a Kamen Rider, so we were surprised when we first heard the news."

Shoji: I was surprised that coincidences like these could happen. I worked together with Kudo Mio on Kiramager, where she played KiramaiPink after appearing in "Kamen Rider Ghost," but I never dreamed that I'd be in a situation where I'd play a transforming hero and then a character who Henshins, and not just as a minor character, but as a regular.

"We also thought it was interesting that just like KiramaiSilver in Kiramager, you made your entrance with this role during the middle of the story."

Shoji: Yeah, it feels like some kind of fate.

"What kind of impression do you have of the Kamen Rider series?"

Shoji: Compared to Sentai, I have the impression that the human drama is played out more seriously. I've been watching Gavv's broadcast so far with the feeling of, "How can they do this much with a Sunday morning program?!"

"Lage 9 acts exactly like a typical enemy, doing things like collecting large amounts of Human Presses, so we couldn't believe that he was a character who'd transform into a Kamen Rider."

Shoji: I was alittle surprised by that too (laughs). In the original materials I received, all I knew about his character was his purpose in life and his general beliefs, which would be revealed in the future. When it comes to the scenes where he performs his evil tasks, I think it's easier for children to understand it if he looks like a bad person, as it also makes it clear as to why he's doing it, so I'm trying to play the role in a way that makes me appear as evil as possible.

"He made his first appearance in episode 12 for a short time in his Granute form, with Shoji-san only appearing through his voice performance."

Shoji: Until he appeared in his human form, he'd been putting on an act in front of Stomach Inc, so I wanted to make sure he appeared weak. From there until he transforms into a Kamen Rider at the end of episode 17, I wanted to make my performance as natural as possible, and to create an intense contrast with his fighting appearance.

"Starting from episode 18, he'll finally play an active role as Kamen Rider Vram."

Shoji: When talking about strong characters, I think there are many different types you could go with, but together with Vram's Suit Actor Eitoku-san and the production team, we're expressing him as the type who can "switch on and off." Eitoku-san doesn't make any exaggerated movements or heroic poses in his performance, and he'll wait until the last moment before suddenly moving, so even during post recording, I'm conscious of creating a difference between when he is and isn't putting in alot of energy.

"What was your impression of Vram's visuals using a pudding motif?"

Shoji: It was more poppin than I had envisioned (laughs). The vivid yellow color is eye catching, too flashy and cute for him to be an enemy, and I also like the pieces of pudding being applied to various parts of his body, such as his ears, shoulders and back. It's the same for Gavv and Valen, but I think the nice thing about Gavv's production is that while its story runs heavy, the Kamen Riders are colorful and poppin.

"How do you communicate with Eitoku-san?"

Shoji: Currently, I feel that we're on the same page and can have everyday conversations when we meet (laughs), but in the beginning, we didn't know how to approach each other, so we'd just confirm and adjust things one by one. We'd be like, "What'd you do in this scene?" or, "I think this is the emotion that's coming from the scene." Before Vram made his entrance, Eitoku-san and I have been performing Lage 9 together since his Granute form appeared. When done well, the effects of our synergy can expand upon this great role alot better than if we were to perform it alone, but on the other hand, if we're both looking to go in different directions, it can make the viewers feel that something's out of place. While thinking about how we should handle our emotions, I hope we can continue to trust each other and perform together.

-The difference between Rider and Sentai's storytelling-

"Shoji-san, please tell us your impressions of Shouma's Chinen Hidekazu-san and Hanto's Hino Yusuke-san."

Shoji: Chinen's a kid who's like a sponge. Even without lighting, his eyes are sparkling, and it makes me wonder if me and the other five appeared like that on the outside four years ago (laughs). Hino's career in the entertainment industry is longer than mine, and I feel that he has the desire to greatly expand upon the important role of Kamen Rider that he's obtained with his own hands, and that he wants to improve the entire set. I haven't actually said this to him, but he's a kind person. Our job isn't just to put on a good performance and create good scenes, it's also about making the finished footage look good. Chinen and Sachika's Miyabe Nozomi have yet to build up their acting careers, so there are times where they struggle on set. I'd like to give them advice, but it's something I also have to think about for myself, so I'm watching over them from a slightly detached position. I feel that Hino's advice, which varies in subtle ways depending on the person he's directing it to, has had a positive effect on Chinen, the others, and the entire set……I might be praising him abit too much (laughs).

"(laughs). You must feel that the atmosphere on Gavv's set is good then, huh?"

Shoji: That's right. I'm a main cast member with five years of experience as an actor, and especially on Kamen Rider's side, it's like I'm a veteran entering a younger set, where everyone has the ambition to take a big step forward as actors from this production. I hope that this will be a turning point in my career where I'll be able to grow, and I'm thinking about how I can give back to the set using the experience I've gained so far.

"What do you feel is the same or different between working on set for the Super Sentai series and Kamen Rider series?"

Shoji: What they share in common is that the scripts are written in parallel to watching our performances and the finished footage, which allows the actors to grow alongside their characters. As someone involved, I enjoy the fact that Chinen and the others look more appealing now than when I first met them, and I think that's the most interesting part tokusatsu fans who have loved the series for so many years want to see most. I think what's different is that Super Sentai has stories for each character, but they also work as a group and have storylines that are usually resolved in an episode, while each person in Kamen Rider has their own storyline that lasts the entire show. I was together with the Kiramager members pretty much all the time (laughs). In Gavv's case, it'll be interesting to see how Gavv and Valen, who are fighting together, deal with their opponent Vram, and how their relationship will change in the process. I'm excited to perform as well.

"What did you learn from your experience on Kiramager that you've been incorporating into Gavv?"

Shoji: I feel that I've been able to make use of my knowledge in post recording and how I behave on set. When I first started doing post recording for Kiramager, I struggled with it so much, that I finally recorded a single episode after what felt like countless hours of recording. What was great for all of us was that we were able to record while surrounded by Voice Actors such as Minase Inori-san, Sugita Tomokazu-san, and Nakamura Yuichi-san, all of whom are active at the very front of the industry. Suzumura Kenichi-san still contacts me every now and then, and Inada Tetsu-san comes over when I call him (laughs), so we're very close friends. I learned alot about how to approach the performance with just my voice, so I think it's one of my assets. Normal dramas are filmed and finished in about 2-3 months, and while staff members join and leave within Super Sentai and Kamen Rider, they're always involved in the same productions, so their sets are abit unique. With the main premise being what Chinen, the lead actor, wants to do, I try to come up with ways of improving the atmosphere on set, while also thinking about whether to give him a push or run with him.

"Please tell us what we should pay attention to in future episodes."

Shoji: First would be the action performed by Kamen Rider Vram. As a viewer, I really enjoy the battle scenes that Action Director Fujita Satoshi's been putting alot of thought into, and now that Gavv and Valen are being joined by Vram, you'll get to see three different fighting styles. I hope you enjoy his interesting visuals, as well as how he uses his weapon. And then, the type of fate Lage 9 carries on his back will become clearer as his character develops, so I hope that you'll watch each week's broadcast with anticipation. _

Double Riders from the tertiary Rider's point of view.

From Lage 9's perspective, they both serve as obstacles who get in the way of his objective, nothing more and nothing less. He happens to wear a suit that looks similar to theirs, but he's taken the stance to eliminate them since he's been ordered to do so by those above him. As for myself, I view both of them as heroic, but it's interesting to see how the things they both carry overlap, such as the feelings of guilt Shouma has towards Hanto. I think it's because there are some nuanced elements that you end up wondering, "What kind of person is this guy?" or "Maybe there's another side to him." I feel that that's what makes them so appealing within the story. (-Shoji)

#kamen rider gavv #kamen rider #kamen rider vram #kamen rider vlam #shouma inoue #inoue shouma #shouma stomach #hanto karakida #karakida hanto #animage #tokusatsu #toku cast #my scans #my translation #kohei shoji #shoji kohei #granute lage 9 #“sono otoko” huh......

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usafphantom2 · 5 months ago

Text

The former SR-71 pilot who saved the lives of members of Aerosmith and Charley Pride bands flying as their own private pilot

The SR-71 driver who became private pilot for Aerosmith, Cher and Gregg Allman and country western superstar Charley Pride

Col Robert “Grey” Sowers

SR-71B crash

From SR-71 driver to private pilot for Aerosmith

From SR-71, to Aerosmith private pilot, to Saving Charley Pride’s life

Col Robert “Grey” Sowers

Col Robert “Grey” Sowers was the first pilot selected to fly the SR-71 Blackbird. He also became the first instructor pilot. Grey’s first Reconnaissance Systems Officer (RSO) was Richard “Butch” Sheffield, my father. They were both nicknamed after their hair. Grey’s nickname name was because his hair turned grey at an early age. Butch’s Nickname was from his butch haircut. Sheffield in fact had to stop his hair from becoming so messy from being in a helmet for hours after he had been told that he needed to look more presentable during the required post-flight briefing.

CLICK HERE to see The Aviation Geek Club contributor Linda Sheffield’s T-shirt designs! Linda has a personal relationship with the SR-71 because her father Butch Sheffield flew the Blackbird from test flight in 1965 until 1973. Butch’s Granddaughter’s Lisa Burroughs and Susan Miller are graphic designers. They designed most of the merchandise that is for sale on Threadless. A percentage of the profits go to Flight Test Museum at Edwards Air Force Base. This nonprofit charity is personal to the Sheffield family because they are raising money to house SR-71, #955. This was the first Blackbird that Butch Sheffield flew on Oct. 4, 1965.

According to the website SR-71 Blackbirds that lists all Personnel Who Flew the Blackbirds, Sowers is listed as number 115 and Sheffield is numbered 116. They were both flying the B-58 at Carswell AFB, TX, when they were interviewed for the SR-71 program in 1964. At Carswell Grey was awarded the prestigious Bendix Trophy plus the Mackay Trophy. This trophy is awarded for the most meritorious flight of the year. These records were from Los Angeles to New York (2:00:58 seconds) and return (2:15:50 seconds).

SR-71B crash

On Jan. 11, 1968 while flying SR-71B #957 at 80,000 feet and over 2,000 mph, a total system failure occurred which resulted in a double engine failure due to fuel starvation. Grey successfully maneuvered the plane to an isolated area near Beale AFB, Ca, where it crashed after he and the student pilot (David Fruehauf) safely ejected.

Col Charles “Pete” Collins Sr was on the base at the time of the crash and led the rescue of the two men that were aboard the SR-71.

Grey and Butch

But there’s more to this story.

Fruehauf had a heated argument with Sowers as the doomed SR-71B was dropping rapidly to the ground: the argument was about who should eject first! Fruehauf the student consistent, that Sowers should because he had the backseat!

Sowers was the mission commander and the more senior officer, and he declared that Dave exited the plane first they continued to argue until Fruehauf finally complied and ejected just in time. At 3,000 feet and some 8 miles from Beale AFB, Fruehauf complied with Sowers’ order and ejected. An instant later, Sowers followed his student into the sky via his Lockheed SR-1 ejection seat. He landed on the ground, removed his helmet and survival kit and found Sowers already on the ground, smoking a cigarette.

From SR-71 driver to private pilot for Aerosmith

SR-71 driver Sowers became private pilot for Aerosmith rock band

After his Air Force retirement, Sowers became a Commercial pilot.

In a telephone interview with my childhood friend Pete Collins Jr, he told me Gray’s first job after retirement was becoming a private pilot for Rock band Aerosmith.

Gray was a pilot who didn’t like to take chances with people’s lives so when Aerosmith demanded that he landed their plane in horrible weather conditions in New York, he refused to do so making Aerosmith members was mad!

That job didn’t work out.

Charley Pride

So, he flew for singer Cher and husband Gregg Allman. His next job was flying for a country western superstar, Charley Pride.

Grey saved Charley Pride and his traveling band’s lives while flying them on tour.

In 1980 While flying Pride and his band in a Fairchild F-27 [a version of the Fokker F27 Friendship twin-engined, turboprop, passenger aircraft manufactured under license by Fairchild Hiller in the US] a midair collision occurred and Grey Sowers had to land the aircraft with an engine out and after experiencing a flight control failure.

From SR-71, to Aerosmith private pilot, to Saving Charley Pride’s life

This print is available in multiple sizes from AircraftProfilePrints.com – CLICK HERE TO GET YOURS. Dawn at 80.000ft – SR-71 Blackbird

“Country singer Charley Pride and his traveling band narrowly escaped death when a small Cessna clipped their aircraft and crashed, killing two people, (the 19-year-old pilot of the plane that hit them was one of the deaths) authorities said. “It scared the hell out of us,” said Bobbi Smith, Pride’s road manager and a passenger on the plane. Pride and members of his entourage were uninjured, in their Fairchild 27, piloted by Bob Sowers.”

So, when Grey wanted to retire and spend more time with his wife Susie, Charley told him to bring her with him on tour: he wanted to keep Grey!

Pete Jr told me that he was thrilled to be invited along with his family to a Charley Pride country western concert. His father SR-71 Pilot Charles “Pete” Collins Sr had been taught how to fly by Gray at the Air Force pilot school in Waco, Texas. They remained close friends for the rest of their lives. Gray passed away on Dec 1 2018 at the age of 92.

Be sure to check out Linda Sheffield Miller (Col Richard (Butch) Sheffield’s daughter, Col. Sheffield was an SR-71 Reconnaissance Systems Officer) Twitter X Page Habubrats SR-71, Instagram Page SR71Habubrats and Facebook Page Born into the Wilde Blue Yonder Habubrats for awesome Blackbird’s photos and stories.

@Habubrats71 via X

#sr 71 #sr71 #sr 71 blackbird #blackbird #aircraft #usaf #lockheed aviation #skunkworks #mach3+#habu #aviation #reconnaissance #cold war aircraft

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accord-vn · 1 year ago

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Subject: Archon Program Candidates

From: ██████

To: Flora Pearson <[email protected]>

Timestamp: 2088.09.24.6138

Dir. Pearson:

It took some time to process the data we've received from the Dept/Statistics request, and your patience in that matter is deeply appreciated. Our diligence has paid off, and we have narrowed to 54 potential candidates across the Republic. I've attached the full portfolio--note that among the 54, 7 in particular stand out. I've flagged these subjects accordingly. While a thorough examination of *all* prospective candidates is paramount for expedience and risk mitigation, the attached dossiers will surely speak for themselves with regards to their fit for the program.

Saklas

Raithe Desmont

b.2057.12.30 / 193cm / 66kg / B+

int-SYN/TRA compatibility: 83.25%

d-SYN/TRA compatibility: 57.29%

Minor irreversible microgravitational osteoporosis from offworld childhood

History of childhood asthma, no noted persistent chronic obstructive pulmonary disorders in adulthood

Existing psychiatric profile suggests an intense need for approval, acknowledgement

Medical records became publicly available when he was processed following the dismantling of Synesia

Immediate family:

- Estranged father, younger sister

- deceased mother

Census records indicate no other family or partner

Criminal records indicate a history of activism that ended following an arrest with no conviction

Church records confirm status as hylikos

Currently works an administrative role within the Automation Division of the Dept/Research

Evaluation:

Desmont's department shows fantastic efficiency and produces incredible results at the expense of high turnover rates. Exit interviews indicate that his aggressive and controlling management style is to blame, however the growth in his department was undeniable to his superiors. Were he not a hylikos, he would surely be head of the division by now.

Desmont's ego is thoroughly immodest, and his focus solely on the Material. He refuses to accept that he cannot rise above his position without aid from the Church.

His methodical yet aggressive nature and relatively high d-SYN/TRA compatibility score suggest that he would be an ideal candidate for the archon of kings.

Iao

Zoe Katab

b.2070.07.19 / 170cm / 70kg / A-

int-SYN/TRA compatibility: 95.66%

d-SYN/TRA compatibility: 71.90%

Several childhood hospitalizations for frequent upper and lower extremity fractures

History of self harm attributed to survivor's guilt/PTSD

Existing psychiatric profile indicates a need for control that stems from severe anxiety

Medical records became publicly available following her adoption as a ward of the state

Immediate family:

- deceased mother, father, sister

Census records indicate no other family or partner

Criminal records indicate that she was arrested for the murder of her parents, but ultimately found innocent

Church records confirm status as hylikos

Currently unemployed

Evaluation:

Katab's past indicates that she is capable of bloodshed yet more interested in the stability of total control. Behavioral reports from her childhood describe a deeply protective personality with recurring accusations of attempting to manipulate others.

Katab's exceptional d-SYN/TRA compatibility alongside her complex psychiatric profile indicate that she is an ideal archon candidate, with the most synergy with the archon of lordship.

Sabaoth

Sera ████

b.2060.10.30 / 180cm / 102kg / AB+

int-SYN/TRA compatibility: 98.92%

d-SYN/TRA compatibility: 89.01%

Significant medical records were removed from public record following her involvement in the destruction of the Caesarea

Existing psychiatric profile indicates a deeply emotionally disturbed individual

Immediate family:

- estranged mother, father

- aunt, living apart

Census records indicate no other family or partner

Criminal records indicate that she is currently convicted for criminal negligence, manslaughter, and practicing medicine without a license

Church records confirm status as hylikos

Currently imprisoned

Evaluation:

████ 's involvement has been previously confirmed, as she was sponsored by █████.

Nonetheless, ████ 's unprecedentedly high SYN/TRA compatibility, unique physiology, and damaged psyche suggest that she is an ideal archon candidate, such that she may be a possible match with the archon of deity.

Adonaios

Ash Ward

b.2074.08.16 / 175cm / 58kg / B-

int-SYN/TRA compatibility: 84.11%

d-SYN/TRA compatibility: 74.39%

Childhood history of malnourishment

Reports of several scars from infections secondary to insufficient wound care

Existing psychiatric profile indicate difficulty controlling anger

Medical records became publicly available upon becoming a ward of the state

Immediate family:

- deceased mother, father, uncle

Census records indicate no other family or partner

Criminal records indicate a predisposition to violence

Church records confirm status as hylikos

Currently a ward of the state

Evaluation:

Ward's behavioral reports indicate a tendency to lash out against authorities and classmates alike. He is quick to violence and has little patience for others.

His exceptional SYN/TRA compatibilities and temperament suggest a strong compatibility for the tyrant archon.

Elaios

Adrien Hein

b.2059.03.03 / 187cm / 40kg / O+

int-SYN/TRA compatibility: 74.29%

d-SYN/TRA compatibility: 52.63%

Bilateral below-knee amputation secondary to explosion during an attempted live-munitions terrorist attack

Existing psychiatric profile indicates severe anxiety bordering on paranoia

Medical records became public record upon arrest

Immediate family:

- deceased husband, son

- mother, father live apart

Census records indicate no other family or partner

Criminal records indicate that he has been convicted for terrorism, conspiracy, possession of illegal explosives, destruction of property

Church records confirm status as hylikos

Currently imprisoned

Evaluation:

Hein lost his husband and son in a riot started by immigrants protesting the stride of Stauros. He was radicalized by the experience and subsequently became involved with a group of nationalists. During an attempt to bomb a train station the explosives were improperly timed, resulting in the loss of both of Hein's legs.

His willingness to shed blood, loyalty to Stauros, and obsessive mental state make him an ideal candidate for the archon of jealousy.

Oraios

Surya Marit

b.2068.09.25 / 175cm / 68kg / B+

int-SYN/TRA compatibility: 88.04%

d-SYN/TRA compatibility: 73.43%

Minor broken bones in youth, negative growth plate abnormalities noted

Possible TBI secondary to concussion received during routine training though MRI/CT inconclusive

Existing psychiatric profile indicates an antisocial personality disorder diagnosis as well as a need for connection

Medical records became publicly available upon joining the ExoCorps

Immediate family:

- estranged brother, mother

- deceased mother

Census records indicate no other family or partner

Criminal records return no charges

Church records confirm status as hylikos

Currently unemployed

Evaluation:

Marit is an unusual individual. She was initially chosen to be a Cataphract though her surgery regimen was cut short by a traumatic head injury during a routine training exercise. This purportedly spawned a change in her behavior, at which point she was ejected from the ExoCorps.

Marit's fantastic SYN/TRA compatibility, her experience as a pilot, and her alienation from others make her a strong candidate for the archon of wealth.

Astaphaios

Elena Casaubon

b.2069.09.09 / 158cm / 53kg / O-

int-SYN/TRA compatibility: 63.14%

d-SYN/TRA compatibility: 47.69%

Irreversible microgravitational osteoporosis from offworld childhood

Existing psychiatric profile indicates obsessive tendencies and a thirst for the forbidden

Medical records not publicly available

Immediate family:

- absentee mother

- deceased father

Census records indicate no other family or partner

Criminal records return no charges

Church records confirm status as hylikos

Currently employed by the Dept/Research as a part of the Archon program

Evaluation:

Casaubon's participation was, of course, previously confirmed due to her connection to the Rite.

Casaubon's SYN/TRA compatibilities barely meet program minimums, and though her psychiatric profile does not indicate any particular affinity, the archon of wisdom will likely be the most fitting for her potential as a pilot.

Thank you for your patience,

██████

#accord #mecha #visual novel #character art #in universe text

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ra1npo3t · 2 months ago

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The Bitter Sweet Semen Stained Cubicle

@cheeriofriend this is for you, Merry Christmas!

Note: I have never written straight smut before and I hated every moment of this and I will NEVER do it again. (Unless...)

I feel like I also need to say this isn't content for minors so I don't get bombarded for not giving a warning. But that also makes me a hypocrite in a way, so read at your own caution if this is not something your comfortable with.

---

“Do what you must.” Wookong sighs from his cubicle at roblox inc.

Not too long ago–perhaps a year or so–he was assigned an apprentice, GordonRox24, as he has decidedly named himself. About a month from this current moment, Gordon graduated from the apprenticeship program and was promoted to administrator.

Despite getting along in their mentor and apprentice stages (BOTH ARE ADULTS DURING ALL OF THIS, I’M NOT A CREEP), things have taken a turn and has led them to become sworn enemies (hence the current argument unfolding).

“Well, I’m sorry. No need to get all sassy on me.” The purple horned creature appeared from behind one of the cubicle walls, “I was simply asking if you would want me to make some backup copies of code.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“That’s why I was asking you-” “I DIDN’T ASK.” Wookong snaps as his co-worker before regaining his composure and straightening his shirt. “Now if you would kindly leave me to work in peace, that would be extraordinary.”

Without another word Gordon trudged back to his cubicle and collapsed into his chair. He hangs his head in his hands as his heart continues to pound- it was pounding? He didn’t know his heart was pounding before. Upon raising his head, he found his face flushed and hot against the cooler air.

“God, what is wrong with me…” He mutters under his breath as he swivels around to begin his paperwork.

–

Wookong is able to find himself in a very similar situation, his face growing hot at the thought of his annoying co-worker, the same one which he was supposed to despise and look down upon.

“Oh… to #### with this!” Wookong exclaims to the walls, not caring enough if others in the cubicles next to him heard him complain over his predicament. He knew what he felt, and he knew that he had felt it from the very moment he interviewed Gordon for this job. But if he confessed… What then? Would Gordon accept his feelings and reciprocate them? Or would he shut him out, report him to Buillderman and get him demoted, or worse, banished to the Banlands?

He shakes the thoughts from his mind, opting to go back to doing his work. It would be better anyways if he kept it to himself, after all he could at least still have a chance of seeing him if he kept his mouth shut.

—

Days passed, and in these days Gordon went about his business as normal.

“Oh how I wish I had some kind of papers to deliver to him, and maybe see him working away with a little sweat on his brow, his sleeves rolled up, and his #### ere- no.”“What is WRONG with me?!” He slams his head down onto his desk with a thud that sounded painful to anyone else, but not to him. Nothing could overcome his emotional pain and distress.

He slowly raises his head and presses ‘print’ on some of the papers he had been working on, before turning his chair around and going to exit his cubicle.

The walk is very nerve wracking, feeling the need to peek around every corner to make sure his secret crush wasn’t going to cross his path. A wave of relief comes over him as he sets his sight on the printing room.

The relief, however, was short lived. Upon entering he immediately sees Wookong standing there flipping through the papers Gordon had just printed, only stopping when he reached a certain photo.

Gordon froze in his steps when he saw Wookong holding the photo of himself, the one taken from the security cameras that depicted him with the little sweat on his brow and his sleeve rolled up–just how Gordon liked it.

—

During the same period of time, Wookong finds himself in a similar conundrum; Always looking away from Gordon in the halls, blushing when he had tried to send a very important ‘work’ email that always ended up in his drafts, and avoiding all contact with his co-worker.

As he is sitting in his cubicle, attempting to not fall asleep, he reaches for his cup of coffee to take a sip, only to realize it is very much empty.

“####” He curses under his breath, knowing he would surely be banished if he let his mouth run away with him too often.

With an annoyed huff he got up from his comfy chair and made his way to the printing room, which for some reason housed the coffee maker too.

The sound of the printer printing caught his attention, causing him to glance at it as he placed his mug under the machine. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary amongst the business work until a burst of color was on one of the pages before the regular work paper continued coming out.

His curiosity got the best of him and he set his fresh cup of coffee down, walking over and flipping through the pages that just finished printing.

“What the…” He mutters as he finally lands on a photo of himself from his young adult years–before he joined the Roblox admin–when he was always clad in just his boxers and some sandals if it was a chilly day; Then another photo of him from the security cameras with his sleeves rolled up and a little sweat on his brow and his di- “Who in the server…” He ponders until he looks up and sees Gordon standing there with a look of horror on his face.

Could it really have been him, the very co-worker who he was trying to suppress his feelings for? Surely not…

Or that’s what Wookong wants to think.

—

Gordon slowly entered the printing room and stood a few feet away from Wookong, a sheepish look on his face. “Can I uh…?” He asks, trying to keep his voice steady as he holds his hand out for the papers.

Instead of placing the papers in his hand, Wookong places his own hand in Gordon’s. “Why is he looking at me like that? Why- oh.” He thinks to himself as he sees Gordon’s expression of slight disgust, but unbeknownst to him the facial expression was forced and he didn’t really mind the closeness that they are currently experiencing.

“Uh, heh, sorry!” Wookong exclaims as he removes his hand and places the papers in its place.

Gordon didn’t want to tell him, but he was a tad bit disappointed when Wookong’s hand was drawn back, but now was not the time nor the place. They were simply co-workers after all.

“I-Wookong-” Gordon begins to confess but Wookong cuts him off, wanting to have the first word of confession.

“No, Gordon, I need you to hear me out and listen to all that I have to say.” He takes a deep breath in before continuing, “GordonRox24, you are by far the most attractive, hottest, and overall kind man that I have ever met.”

He pauses a moment to judge Gordon’s expression, which is stoic but not in an upset way, in the way that he was listening intently as the cogs in his brain turned, trying to figure out if he meant what he was saying. Wookong continues when his co-worker doesn’t respond.

“I know you may not reciprocate those feelings, but I need to get them out and tell you that I appreciate seeing your smiling face every morning and ready-to-go attitude, even if it makes you an annoying prick sometimes. Gordon-”

He begins to go on with his glazing confession but is cut off, the words being pulled straight from his mouth as Gordon presses his body up against Wookong’s, which is sandwiched between Gordon and the wall.

The sweat begins to form on Wookong’s brow, causing him to roll up his sleeves, just how Gordon likes it.

“Is this… okay?” Gordon begins to ask, consent over desire, of course.

Wookong nods, “So you’ve wanted this just as much as I have, hm?”

Now it’s Gordon’s turn to nod silently as Wookong assumes the position of being on ‘top’ in this intimate moment.

“Good boy.” His voice has become low and rough, filled with neediness and lust. They stay in the same position for only a moment, yet it felt like an eternity–an eternity that they both desire.

The desire goes beyond being close, oh they need to act on it. Gordon is the one who makes the next move, sliding his hands over Wookong’s sides and violently pressing their lips together. The silence of the room from before is only broken by the sounds of their lips moving and the frequent gasps for air emitting from their mouths.

Their sights are beginning to set in ecstasy, but they know now is not the place.

“Oh God…” Gordon tries to manage speaking his instructions through gasps of air and other panting like noises, “Wookong… Not here…”

Wookong slowly pulls away, his face red and sweat dripping down the side of his face, “Yeah… back to my cubicle.” He grabs Gordon’s tie and tugs him along, both of them stumbling down the array of halls trying to suppress their edging pleasure from their co-workers that pass them, giving them odd glances.

Once they are safely in Wookong’s cubicle with the curtain pulled tight and fastened to the wall he lets go of the tie and they both stand apart for a moment to catch their breath.

However, the break is short lived before Wookong bends Gordon over the desk and places himself on top.

“Comfortable…?” Wookong whispers in Gordon’s ear, his tone coated in lust.

“Yeah.” Gordon was ready for anything Wookong threw his way, whether it was a handjob or up the ass, he would enjoy every bit of it.

Wookong turned Gordon back over just long enough to make eye contact before going down on him, pressing closer to him in a passionate kiss as if he was trying to make their atoms touch.

Wookong was getting ahead of himself, using his hands to explore every inch of Gordon’s skin he could. Without breaking, Gordon used his free hand to unbutton his own shirt and then Wookongs, giving both of their hands more area to explore. To caress.

Their bare bosoms touch as they become more and more desperate for the prize. Wookong begins to unbutton Gordon’s dress trousers.

“You sure you can handle it?” Gordon asks, grabbing Wookong’s hand and pulling away from the kiss ever so slightly, which reveals how flushed and red Wookong was. “I mean, I’m a pretty big dill…”

Wookong smirked and nodded before continuing, reaching the prize underneath. The long purple beast looked uncomfortable wedged all in Gordon’s underpants, just begging to be let out.

“That must be painful…” Wookong caressed Gordon’s hips, teasing the little friend, “being all hard and having to keep it pinned up like a caged beast.”

Gordon nodded, his breaths becoming shaky yet equally in sync with Wookong. Their eyes flicking between each other's hard cocks, knowing that the smallest gesture of true fun would cause them both to explode within seconds.

The anxiousness can hardly wait and Wookong knows it, nothing like the present to get things going.

With a quick move of his hand Gordon lowers his pants and Wookong’s pants too.

Wookong flipped Gordon over, stripping off their boxers so their large and very voluptuous asses were on display. If there is a hole there is a goal mindset took over their minds

Wookong lined up before inserting his cock between the sweet buns that had graced his sights. The motion forces a desperate moan to escape Gordon, they continue as the thrusting continues.

“Oh you edge me~” Gordon gasps before a high pitched moan follows. “gah-!”

“Of course my princess… anything for your ecstasy” Wookong keeps thrusting until white liquid spews out from in between Gordon’s crack. “Oh it’s comin’! Woo!” He only removes his hand from his ass to raise them in the air in triumph before placing them back to help finish. More horny sounds followed.

“Oh you filthy little…” Gordon hums as he feels the cum running down his leg and to the floor, which will definitely be questioned later on. He whips around forcing Wookong to remove his dick and move his hands to Gordon’s chest.

The caressing doesn’t stop, Wookong moves his hands down to help Gordon finish off, rubbing and caressing the schlong that was a little too big for his hand to wrap around.

“Ohhhh~ F-F-f- FUCK!” Gordon exclaims in a half moan half screech before nothing. Wookong’s hands drop to his side, no more gordon and no more dick… what?

“G-gordon…?” Wookong asks the thin air where his fuckable co-worker just stood. “Where did you-” He begins to ask before an email appears on his computer. HE quickly reads over it to find that Gordon had been sentenced to the ban lands for adult language…

“YOU FUCKING DICKS OF A COMPANY-” Silence filled the room at Wookong's last words. He too had joined Gordon in the ban lands.

#what the fuck #did I just write #fanfic #roblox admin #wookong #this is for someone #I do not write this typically #I am not a gooner #I swear

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