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nhlhoser · 7 months ago

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On The Rocks - 33

4 years later I post !

Master list Chapter 32

(Author note - read if you will it's been ages since I've updated - ZERP EDITTING I NEED THIS OUT OF MY HEAD)

Read @ 2:05 am

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2:30 am illuminates my room in blue from my alarm clock as I toss my dry phone on my bed and try to cool my annoyance. I'm not exactly pacing my room but I am definitely moving around it quite a bit as I try to busy myself with the task of tidying.

Tossing clothes into the hamper with the built up frustration. The need to clean my room growing as the state of my room registers for my brain -- depression pit. As the need to sleep doesn't appear to be a concept my brain can understand, might as well get this tidied.

Clearing out all the bits and pieces of medical supply's out from around my bed is cathartic. A small step to being better and moving on from this shit once again. My earlier 'conversation' with my dad tries to pass through my conscience but is blocked by the need to clean my room. Every section cleared is a small ounce of control of my life returned to me.

The majority of my room now clear is a great breath of fresh air. Flicking the light on in my closest to start in there next; just some clothes on the floor and shoes scatter. A visual of the lack of time I've give myself to keep my shit together. Tossing the clean or dirty clothes into the hamper not carrying to check and rather just re-wash something than deal with it.

A bundle of dark blue fabric catches my eyes as I arrange my shoes on the rack. It's tucked in a odd place and must of been there for a bit as I have definitely haven't been down to this leaving in a while. Grasping it in my hands and unraveling it.

It's the shirt that I bought myself after that person spilt beer on me at the leaf game. It must of fallen out of my hamper and been kicked aside. Flipping it around and see the back for the first time; 'MATTHEWS' is a startling visual. I thought I had bought a blank one but I also was rushed. The first thought it to toss it in the trash but that's just being dramatic.

The fabric is soft in my hands as I place it in the hamper with more care than any article of clothing I've tossed in so far. The soft spot for Auston always finds its way. Moving on to the other loose pieces of clothes through my closet doesn't take long and I'm left with a mostly full basket and finally a urge to lay down.

Stepping out of the closet (The urge to make a joke here is strong - KATIE) and standing at the foot of my bed - my unmade and could use a sheet change bed - drums up a feeling of dread. My room is so close to be clean but the sheets need to be changed.

I can't sleep in my bed and the couch feels like admitting defeat (to whom I'm not sure of). Glancing at the clock it shines back brightly with '4 am'....yikes. No time like the present to start the first half of the task to make my bed.

Stripping the my bed of all the bed is a better feeling then I was prepared for and made it easier to start the trek to silently trek to the laundry room and dump it in the wash. Then I can admit my defeat to the couch.

The stairs are a breeze with one small hiccup with loosing some pillow cases to the wind (yeah i am speed). Recollecting the cases, I make it down and beeline straight into the laundry room and dumping the fabric right into the washer. The damn 'Matthews' flashes past as it falls in with the assorted fabrics.

Syds "Either direction you go it's the right one" and Steph's "be kind to yourself" are thoughts that bounce off each other and the other offending things taking over my brain. I fish the dark blue shirt from the washer- ending its journey to being clean with the rest of the load. I stare at it like it's going to give me answers to the question I haven't thought of yet.

I go to cast it back in but the thought of it leaving my hands feeling symbolic to some thing bigger than itself. I'm definitely putting too much control in a shirt. A pull in my stomach prompts me to pull the shirt closer to my body as different paths race in my mind.

My sweet lovely Nonna who instilled a majority if not all of my beliefs in life. Who gets me. She doesn't push. She listens. She doesn't judge. She's more logical than emotional. Going to her would be going to comfy, peace , and easy.

Easy...

Auston a boy- a man. A hockey player. A good and very popular hockey player..and man. He's emotional, more than he may be even aware of. He's moody. He's unpredictable. I work his team!

I exhale through my nose and finally toss the shirt back in and mindlessly finish loading and starting washer. Pouring an unmeasured amount of detergent directly in the to basin and gently closing the lid.

My Brain mulls over the beautiful scenes of the last time I was living with my nonna. The healing I had to do and the healing I need to do again.

Again...

Trauma is a fickle thing. It's such an unsteadying experience, to live life going forward to suddenly going backwards.

Am I going backwards though?

I take stock of my self staring into the glass lid of my washer as the basin turns and the sound of the wash rushing in soothes over my ears. My body aches with tension from frustration and general recovery. This all feels dramatic. My appendix nearly or did burst? I'm not even clear on that. My throat is buzzes with the memory of screaming at my dad. A small sadness folds over my heart. He just wants to help.

I'm not the broken teenage he sent off last time.

I'm not broken and I've grown.

The smalls positive thought helps pull me from the trap of thoughts and help guide me to leave the laundry room. Carefully navigating my dark home and avoiding the tripping hazards somewhat successfully.

Seeking my Cocoon of blankets and false protection on the couch once again. The length of the day weighs my eyelids as i start to settle into the couch. Sleepy yet not ready to sleep.

The unanswered and unacknowledged text nags me again just as I fully set into position.

This isn't being kind to myself.

I have a perfectly good bed upstairs that I just cleaned and just needs new sheets. I rolled myself carefully off the couch- taking the blanket with me as they remain wrapped around me. I silently haul my goofy looking self up the stairs and back to my room. The sight much more pleasant now that it's more clean.

Foregoing the new sheets I just crawl on to the mattress and into the pillows as in - fuzzy blanket cocoon. Suddenly the most tired and ready for sleep I have been in a while. So many thoughts that stay unfinished finally dissipate enough for my mind to let rest be an option.

Just as I huff out a breath of ready to let sleep take over. My phone starts to vibrate at the end of my bed. A call coming in - a call that means that who ever is calling; called me went to voicemail immediately then called me again to override my do not disturb settings.

Slapping around the mattress until the device I smack the glass of my screen. I see Austons contact taking over the whole screen with the time into corner 5:30am.

I stare at it like it's going to bite me.

I stare until the call disconnects. My screens lights up with the notification of 2 missed calls.

I ignore it in favour of re-position myself in my pillows and lay my phone on my chest. The tiredness train having now left the station without me.

My phone buzzes one more time with a text this time.

From Auston:

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry that I've been unpredictable and a 'moody little shit'. I need you know how much of a breath of fresh air you have been for me.

My stomach pulls this time not the stitches. It's something emotional and wrenching.

I impulsively hit call and the phone barely rings before Austin's deep voice comes thru.

"Amelia.." his tone is breathless almost desperate. What this man does to me. How did this happen?

"Auston.." my raspy pitchy voice sounding horrible. Especially after a lack of us and some drinking. "It's 5:30" unsure what to say I site the clock.

"I know. I'm sorry I just- I just I couldn't not say that now. I need you to know that there is something. I don't know how to be vulnerable.." he sounds so sounds so sad and like he's walking outside. The early morning Toronto bustle evident behind him.

"What are yo" I had to pause to cough a bit and clear my thought "what are you doing, Auston"

"Hoping to catch the girl" he pleads.

I startled as " no, why does it sound like your outside?"

"I am. I was hoping you could let me in"

My brain short circuits and my heart leaps with want.

"You know the code," and I hang up. I stare at the ceiling.

Am I dreaming?

Confirmed that nope I am wake when I lug myself up and all my aches do call out. Even with the code someone needs to let him in.

Not ready to part with my blankets I trek downstairs once's again. Pleasantly surprised at the ease in mobility and a tab but giggly?

My emotions are going at neck break speed as I pace the area between the kitchen and living room. Pulling the blankets tighter as an anxious shutter rips through me at the thought of Auston Matthews being at my door at any second.

I check my phone and he really should be here soon if not already. I move forward to check though the peep hole. The sight before me erases the doubts and dread I was feeling in front of the washer.

Auston stands with his back to my door. His hands alternately between ruffling his hair and resting on his hips. He looks like he's amping himself up? For what?

Feeling more bold than I have been I open the door. Clearly starling him as his head whips around to catch sight of me standing in the door way, blankets wrapped tightly around my head and body. Just my face and feet really showing.

There's no words and a lengthy pause as we take each other in. Auston in a dress pants and a hoodie ? He looks sad and tired. I can't look much better but when he looks me over his eyes grown fond.

"Snug as a bug," are his only words and tiny smile.

"You wish you could be this snug," the smile sneaking onto my lips as well.

"I really do," in the same second I open my cocoon as he steps forward. The cold fabric of his hoodie snaking under the blanket and encircling my mid section. We pull each other closer as if trying to crawl into each other.

He carefully steps forward to guide us into the apartment where's it easier to fully embrace. The most secure I've felt in ages. My eyes water at the sensation and then over flow when of one his land hands grasp behind my beck and fully just holds me to him. It's so easy to relax into his frame knowing that he'll support my weight. I tuck my face into his neck and inhale the scent of him I've memorized unknowingly.

It's easy..

My body stays in the moment enjoying the sensation of his firm body against mine. Dependably and steady.

My Brain however fixates on "easy"

It's so easy to love him.

My insides get hit at the realization and my breath quickens with panic. I pull back to separate myself from the panic but I'm caught in his gaze. His eyes are so deep and open. He's look into me with an intensity. I realize the position of his hand must mean he can feel my racing heart.

Oh god Oh god.

Peace. My brain just melts as Auston squeezes with just a bit of extra pressure at the points of contact. The hand on the back of neck caresses forward into my cheek before pushing both the blanket and my hair off my face.

"I mean it, Amelia. You have been the breath of fresh air I didn't know I've been needing. You have treated me with such kindness and I appreciate you. I'm sorry I couldn't express this." He stares into my eyes a mixture of intensity and vulnerability. A touch of sadness washes over his expression as a tear finally drops from my lashes and runs straight down my cheek to his hand that rests below. His thumb comes up to wipes its trail away. My lips quiver as the urge to fully sob shakes up my spine.

Auston pulls me closer and tucks his face into my neck. Breathing in my scent and squeezing for just a second. He starts to soothe a hand up my back and pulls back to kiss my forehead his lips are hot and linger before he fully pulls back.

"Let's get you somewhere cozy" He runs both of his hands up my arms and soothing them back down. I pout as he makes more room between us.

" but I am cozy," the words coming out bratty and without my control. He chuckles this deep sound that is like a purr to my ears. The resistance and heartache I was feeling before gets tucked at the back of my mind. I let myself be guided to the couch and Auston awkwardly positions himself a small distance from my designated spot in the corner of my couch.

This new spot has one small side effect - the early morning sun cuts in and illuminates my face and his. Both of our exhaustion becoming evident.

"Have you slept?" He reached forward and tilts my face to better examine the darkness under my eyes. I stare at his darkened features that reveal that he may not of either. "Have you?" I countered lightly with a small smile well being sure connect my eyes with his. He shakes his head but stares deeply. The hand that tilted my faced moves to enclosing what feels like the entire side of my face. The distance becomes smaller and less awkward.

Auston pauses inches from my face searching it for something. I slightly narrow my eyes trying to figure him out but catching his gaze drop to my lips and return to my eyes. Something strong wraps and roots itself around my heart as I realized that he's not just taking a closing look.

I blink at him for a second for bring myself closer so when I nod my head with approval our nose knock each other and he matches our lips together in feather light kiss. Almost more teasing than anything before I press mine lips to his with purpose.

His arms encase me as he maneuvers his way over me softy laying me back as to kiss me fully. My hands brace his face, feeling the roughness from the 'playoff beard'.

My brain clears and my heart beats.

He paused the soft motions of his lips against mine to slowly pull back and kiss my cheek. He carefully moves me easily to be on top of him as we both lay on the couch together. Being sure to pull me close. My head lies on his chest and I hear that his heart matches mine. Blushing I turn my head to kiss his cheek but end up kissing just below his jaw softly.

"Just one more" he whispers so delicious gruffly before kissing more deeply. His tongues brush's my bottom lip so subtle I almost missed it. A shiver runs through me as I hold him closer. We pause with our lips together for a moment enjoying the closeness before separating. Wordlessly I tuck myself between him and couch half in his chest. My head his shoulder and right arm rubs my back and into my hair. His left arm wrapped around me holding me to him.

There is no panic for the first time in a long time as I drift off to sleep.

#toronto maple leafs #austonmatthews #on the rocks

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ari-zonia · 2 years ago

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Limbus Company x Epithet Erased (AU?)

Silly idea based off something me and my partner were talking about and I wanted to write down my thoughts on it since I can't really draw anything at the moment. It's mostly rambles for how the City would work with Epithet's rules.

There's room for improvement, these are just based off my first thoughts and sorta "going for the obvious".

Putting a read more so I don't present a wall. Some spoilers abound up to Canto V of Limbus, so be aware

Setting:

E.G.O. and Epithets are basically the same thing. Now, that's not to say people weren't learning they were Inscribed before L Corp and the Smoke War, but it was basically unheard of.

This is because Singularities are basically people with strong enough Epithet's figuring out how to Transcribe them into everyday objects or other such in a commercial fashion. This is a closely guarded secret of the Wings, as a rule of the Head, so that's why the Inscribed are practically unheard of until The White Nights and Dark Days. The City is still as hostile as you know it normally.

How does this work with the Whales, you may ask? Whales probably work the same as usual, but it's because they've parasitized enough Inscribed over the ages that the Whales themselves are basically all Inscribed with "Amalgam" or something akin to that. And then U Corp made the Tuning Forks out of them.

L Corp's E.G.O. equipment is basically Abnormalities Transcribing their Epithets into the extracted equipment, allowing any person, Inscribed or Mundie, to use that Epithet to some degree (since Abnos are derived from/created by humans anyway). Binah understands how this works and that's about it.

Effloresced E.G.O./Distortion is a byproduct of The White Nights and Dark Days basically allowing the City to realize there are a lot of Inscribed, in fact, Moses has deduced every person actually is Inscribed, but it's a matter of those people having their Epiphany, and how they handle it. Basically, works the same as E.G.O./Distortion manifestation anyway just with fancier words.

The Sinners/Limbus Company:

Limbus Company, or rather Faust, has figured out how to "Artificially" Inscribe the Sinners, which is how the other E.G.O. manifest through the Mephistopheles. All twelve also happen to be naturally Inscribed and have had their Epiphany, though their Epithets are not their base E.G.O..

(All of these Epithets come from their titles, extra explanation given for those that don't match said title 1:1)

Yi Sang - Pseudonym: Derived from his title "Ha Yong", another pseudonym author Kim Hae-Gyeong/Yi Sang went under. His Mirror technology was made by Transcribing his Epithet into a Mirror, allowing the Sinners to peer into the infinite possibilities. Without the Mirror, he is a natural mimic, able to briefly become someone else or use another person's Epithet, but it's not as strong.

Faust - Walpurgisnacht: Literally the holiday of the same name. She has some control of fire but is otherwise easily described as "a witch". She can use her fires to manifest familiars, or "cast spells" to cause debuffs

Don Quixote - Dream: Translation of the first half her title "Sueño Imposible". She leans even more into her "Righteous Fixer" persona, and things she "believes" are more likely to "become real". Example, she believes Rociante (her shoes) give her the speed of a horse, they will do so, or if she says her spear will pierce through anything, it can. This doesn't work well when her spirit is broken. (She runs on wish power basically)

Ryoshu - Incoherent: The part of her title "支離滅裂" literally means "Incoherent". Similar to Molly's "Dumb" Epithet, she is capable of rendering foes basically harmless by scrambling their brains, so to say. Also able to make it impossible to read something, but that's situational. She also leans into it with her S.A.N.G.R.I.A. by making herself "Incoherent" to those she has deemed unworthy of her words. (She's not using her power, she just chooses to do that).

Meursault - Sun: An exceedingly powerful heat-based Epithet on someone who actively chooses not to use it. It doesn't hurt him in a physical sense like Mera's Fragile, he just hates the amount of light it produces. He can summon sunlight, even in the depths of an L Corp branch, or simply clear the sky. It's also strong enough to melt through most barriers, just given how hot the Sun can get. It's power is still pretty low since he doesn't actively use it, but it seems to subconsciously manifest sometimes. His body also runs naturally warm due to his Epithet.

Hong Lu - Unreal: Translated from his title "太虛幻境". He's not really used to what it can do, so it's mostly "parlor tricks" like making small illusions. Due to him not using it much, his illusions are easy to see through, as they all have a jade-like color to them. He eventually picks up that he can make himself, or the other Sinners, disappear for a time, but that's currently a frowned-upon tactic as he once made Sinclair disappear for three days because he couldn't figure out how turn off his Epithet. It was only when he passed out from fatigue did Sinclair come back. (He was merely invisible, but that didn't make him feel better)

Heathcliff - Revenge: A Counter-based Epithet. He deals back twice as much damage as he takes. Impressively strong compared to others at the start, since it puts him at a pretty high power level, but given he hasn't figured out any other uses for it other than "take a hit, deal it back", he plateau's pretty quick. He's alright with that, since his Stamina is pretty high, but he can only take so much of a beating before his power means nothing because he's out of the fight.

Ishmael - Hearse: A surprisingly versatile Epithet. She's figured out how to manifest her power both offensively and defensively. On offense, she can call forth spirits of the departed to attack, while on defense she manifests a coffin as a shield. She doesn't like to talk about how everyone on the bus has seen a familiar spirit fight for her at some point.

Rodion - Split: Translated from her title "РАСКО́Л". Compared to everyone on the bus, she's more like Meursault where she doesn't use it much. Honestly, in terms of the story the last time she probably used it was after Canto III where she was able to get more chicken skewers by "splitting them up" between everyone. Other than that, she only really uses it to cheat at gambling, because no matter what she can "split" the pot and take home some cash.

Emil Sinclair - Bird: Translated from his title "Vogel". It's practically useless at the start, where at best he could summon a weak, and I do mean weak eggshell shield. With time he's managed to give himself wings at times, but they're not able to carry him yet. He's still learning how to use his Epithet effectively, and it only seems to grow exponentially more powerful, but for now the best he can do is tame seagulls for Ryoshu.

Outis - Nobody: Translated from her title and name "Ουτις". A fully realized parallel to Hong Lu's Epithet. She is able to make herself and others disappear for a short time perfectly, and has used this power to protect Dante from harm by making them invisible during combat. Beyond that, no one is quite sure what it does, and they're not sure why that is.

Gregor - Vermin: Literal translation of his title "Ungeziefer". He hates his Epithet more than anyone else on the bus. If Meursault and Rodion barely use theirs, he never uses it. Because of Hermann and the Smoke War, it's actually really powerful and is how his right arm manifested. She used his Epithet to Transcribe his mutations onto other G Corp soldiers. This was also how he became the poster boy for the war, he had control over his soldiers, no matter how much he hated it. He can command both total control of actual pests like insects, and mind control people like Rats or other such "lowlifes" widely considered by the City to be nusiances.

Dante - ?: Honestly, they don't know their Epithet yet/anymore, or if the Golden Boughs or their old head have anything to do with it. The clock head itself seems to be Inscribed with "Restore", but they don't know that or if that's the word. The pact they made with the Sinners is how they're able to die and not lose their Epithets as they are literally rewound back before the Epithets "become free", much to the chagrin of some Sinners like Gregor or Ishmael.

#ari rambles #not going to tag it it'll probably be in the tag anyway #ok ill tag the game but not the idiots #limbus company

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togami-fan-translation · 10 months ago

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Danganronpa Togami - Chapter 3

Part of my Danganronpa Togami fan translation | Masterpost 🔗

We were doomed to lose this battle from the get-go.

A defeatist would probably be enthralled writing an introduction like this. But we’ve never known defeat, we’re reckless, and we’ve never forgotten our all-or-nothing sense of adventure.

There were corpses and piles of guts, meat, and brains everywhere. Even with all of this flesh scattered across the floor, for Master Byakuya and I, there’s only one way forward.

It’s the same as how a fired bullet is only interested in what’s in front of it; it’s a fundamental matter of principle.

Sedlec Ossuary.

This strange building in the town of Kutná Hora is famous for storing the bones of approximately 40,000 people, with the bones of around 10,000 of those used to decorate the interior.

The altar, ceiling, monstrance, banisters, coat of arms, objects, everything is made from human bones. It’s been dubbed by many as the “Church of Bones.”

You may be wondering, “Why so many human bones?” Borges would answer this simple question eloquently, but this is no time for history lessons. The present is moving at breakneck speed.

The most spectacular decoration in the Bone Church is the giant chandelier made of human bones. It is said to have been pieced together with bones from each part of the body, and it shakes our views on life and death to a sickening extent. But now, beneath the chandelier, an even more vivid scene unfolds.

A scene from the infernos of hell.

Wet flesh was stuck to the walls, intestines were caught on the banisters of the staircase, and blood was splattered red on the floor. It would take a dozen hungry bears to create such a sight.

However, it was a human, not a bear, who accomplished this. I knew this, having fled from their attack.

“Tch. To be slaughtered in a place like this. In the end, their lives were as meaningless as a mere insect,” Master Byakuya said with a bored look on his face, as he sat on the windowsill, barely avoiding the bloody ravages. His black tuxedo stood out against the white of the bones and the red of the blood in a flaunting way.

“Phew. I’ve stomped on thousands of Goombas in my day, but this kind of crushing leaves me speechless,” said Hiroyuki, who was still not speechless as he lit a cigarette.

Yuika strolled inside the church. She didn’t seem too bothered by the blood at her feet, maybe because she was already wearing red shoes.

We somehow gave off the feeling of “the squad,” which was painful to think about.

It looks like I won’t be able to expect a romantic rendezvous with Master Byakuya for a while.

Anyways, back to work.

I placed my finger on my temple and activated Borges. Even without biometric data, it is possible to identify an individual from pieces of flesh, clothing, precious metals, skin color, etc. It’s basically the same as identifying bodies after a plane crash.

By combining the visual information like a 3D puzzle, we were able to confirm 83 bodies. Of these, we were able to identify 31 as belonging to members.

That’s thirty-one bodies. That matches the number of members of the council excluding Master Byakuya and Princess Sonia.

“Can you fill me in now?” Hiroyuki exhaled a smoke. “What’s this pool of flesh? Why were you all gathered at the Church of Bones?”

“Explain,” was all Master Byakuya said. Looks like this is my job now.

“The great Master Byakuya, the heir to the acclaimed Togami clan, is a member of the Council of World Controllers.”

“…Pst, m’lady, does that story involve the Freemasons or something?”

“If you want it to…”

“Woah…”

“You wanted to talk about underground corporations, didn’t you?”

“I’ll leave this alone. Please continue.”

“I haven’t been told how or when the Council of World Controllers was formed. Apparently it has existed for centuries as an organization that issues orders when a crisis strikes the world and secretly guides people to make choices to avoid it.”

“Oh, I see…” Hiroyuki trailed off. “By the way, are all of its members really just big-name politicians, aristocrats, or large corporations?”

“Of course.”

“Sorta like the Bilderberg Club.”

Borges = Search results #36695501 Category: Conspiracy theory Title: “Bilderberg Club”

A secret council founded in 1954 by Józef Retinger and others.

The meeting is attended by about 130 people, including big-name politicians, financial leaders, CEOs of major companies, monarchs of European countries, and bankers. Due to the contents of the meeting not being made public, conspiracy theories arose, such as “They are plotting to establish a unified government” and “They are discussing a depopulation plan to regulate the world’s total population.”

“This is the first meeting since Master Byakuya became a member. We flew to the Czech Republic for the weekend to go to the Church of Bones.”

“Do you always hold meetings here?”

“Supposedly, at least from what I’ve heard.”

“This here Kutná Hora was called the ‘Treasury of Czech Lands.’ You really get the vibe they're controlling the world from behind the scenes, huh.”

“That’s a strange way of looking at it.”

“Ieyasu found the phrases ‘May the state be peaceful and prosperous’ and ‘May noble lord and servants be rich and cheerful’ on the temple bell, and destroyed the Toyotomi clan as a result during the Siege of Osaka. Metaphors foster conspiracies and create destruction.” Hiroyuki had a pretty serious look on his face. “Anyway, now we know why you guys were in Prague. I never guessed a secret society would turn up, though.”

“How could you be here and meet us now when you didn’t know about the existence of the Council of World Controllers?”

“It’s a piece of cake for an underground corporation, am I right?”

“Are you saying you live in an unrealistic world too?”

“We live in the real world. Nothing too outlandish or unrealistic happens, so it’s impossible to become a world controller.”

“Is that so?”

“There are many organizations of many sizes in the world, and unpredictable events happen at every turn. How can you possibly control such a big crazy world with just one will? I like my fair share of conspiracy theories, but you’re seriously stupid if you truly believe them.”

I don’t necessarily disagree with Hiroyuki’s opinion. You can’t take on the world, it’s impossible to perfectly control schools, companies, and even the smallest organizations like families.

We’re not cogs in a machine or dolls to be played with. Just like how Louis XVI, who developed the guillotine, had his head chopped off by that same blade during the revolution, this world is full of miscalculations and ironies. It’s impossible to control the world.

“Unless you have a ‘poor cow.’” Hiroyuki smiled confidently and turned to Master Byakuya. “Spill the beans, kid. How did this organization called the ‘Council of World Controllers’ get so close to you Togamis?”

“What is this ‘poor cow’ thing you speak of, wannabe mogul?”

“Uh huh. Don’t play dumb with me, now tell me what reason they had to approach you Togamis.”

“Because we’re Togamis, enough said.”

“......”

“I was simply just asked to lead the world, I have no information regarding internal details.”

“It’s not like li’l boss to just run errands.”

“Small social interactions are an inevitable part of making a name for yourself.”

“Or maybe… The Council of World Controllers approached the Togamis to find the secret to their prosperity.”

“Like you did?”

“Kehehe… Say, what was the current crisis that’s threatening the world? A meteorite fall? An alien invasion? Global warming?”

“Isn't it obvious? It’s the Despair Novel that caused the despair disease.”

Borges = Search results #92778018 Category: Books Title: “Despair Novel (Restrictions apply, pending verification)”

A common name for the text that is believed to be the cause of the phenomenon that makes humanity despair, i.e. the onset of the Despair Disease. The official title has been confirmed, but it is not introduced on this level due to the possibility that it may cause the Despair Disease.

The original text is believed to be Japanese. It has been translated into 25 languages at present, and is still spreading around the world. It is 3,382 Japanese characters long (including punctuation). It’s classified as a short story and autobiographical novel. There are other parts that are known, but they will not be quoted or outlined on this level.

The Despair Novel, which is spreading rapidly around the world, is said to “make the reader fall to despair without fail,” and those who read it gain a condition called Despair Disease.

To date, there have been no reported cases of people who have not developed the disease or who have returned from the decision after reading it, and it is inevitable that the disease will be contracted once you read the Despair Novel even once.

Methods such as reading quickly, taking your time before reading, stopping halfway through, listening to it being read aloud, altering the text, and starting from the last page are being explored to read it without causing symptoms, but none have been proven safe.

Leaders of various countries have issued orders to burn books, and international organizations including the World Health Organization are also working to find a solution.

Borges = Search results #55091194 Category: Diseases Title: “Despair Disease (Pending verification)”

The colloquial name for the symptoms suffered by “readers” who finish the ever-growing Despair Novel (#92778018).

Whatever the language, those who read “Despair Novel” experience mental changes within 24 hours. Self-deprecating, self-abuse, discriminatory, humorous, aggressive, and violent aspects are particularly prominent, and many sufferers describe their state of mind as feeling “despair,” hence the name Despair Disease.

Victims become more open to their own impulses, band together with other “readers” to become violent, and there is a tendency to attack concepts that evoke hope (big companies, prestigious schools, celebrities, aristocrats, wealthy people, etc.).

Additionally, some anti-government activists and terrorists have taken advantage of the chaos caused by the infected and have been operating in secret, leading to civil wars in some countries.

The heads of countries have responded by isolating infected individuals and burning the copies of the Despair Novel, but the “readers” continue to spread like a virus, translating them, printing them, and posting the data on the internet, so the disease has not yet been eradicated.

Also, since reading Despair Novel always results in contracting the Despair Disease, the source, or even a cure, has not been identified. Theories include terrorist weapons, an unknown virus, Super High School Level talents being involved, and it just being mass hysteria.

As no fundamental solution has yet been found, some military analysts and think tanks are of the opinion that “if the phenomenon continues to spread, it could lead to the biggest, most awful, most tragic event in human history.”

Perhaps because Czech is a minor language, or because absurdist novels are not uncommon in the Czech Republic, there was currently no Czech translation of the Despair Novel available.

The original language of the Despair Novel is said to be Japanese, a language that is nowhere near as minor as Czech. However, there were no signs of the Despair Novel spreading in Japan. The incidence rate in the country has not been high, proving that in Japan, where everyone works hard, anime is aired all night, and 24-hour convenience stores abound, there is no time to read.

If I’m being honest, I’m not particularly interested in the Despair Novel. With the fake World Domination Declaration and Master Byakuya and the world in danger, it completely slipped my mind.

As a member of the Council of World Controllers, I’m sure I would have a vivid sense of conflict and epidemics that occur in faraway countries, but in the end, I only have the sensibilities of an ordinary person.

And so I was currently in a hidden room built into the basement of the Church of Bones. I had hoped to find survivors, but the place was deserted. It seemed no one had made it there. They probably didn’t have the time.

“The safe seems to be fine.” Master Byakuya seems to be satisfied as he sits on the skull object. “Quit sitting around and open it already.”

When I unlocked the safe embedded in the wall of the hidden room, I found a satellite phone, some rations, and a pile of gold bars.

“Wow, that’s quite a lot of gold bars!” Hiroyuki peeked his head out. “I wonder how much perica this will amount to.”

“Wannabe mogul, would you be willing to give up your life in exchange for this amount of gold bars?”

“I told you already. I have no issue resorting to ass-licking and prostrating diplomacy with any corporation of a higher rank. I'll serve you for free!”

“It seems I asked the wrong person.”

“Don’t look so down, li’l boss. There are very few people in this world you can have a proper conversation with. I can’t even talk to people who value cats more than humans, or people who laugh like ‘LOL XD.’ Oh well, my sister’s waiting.” Hiroyuki said his piece and left.

Finally, we were alone. Master Byakuya was looking at me.

“Oh, um, is something…?”

“Is there anyone who would risk their life for this amount of gold?”

“Oh, you mean…” I was disappointed. “Honestly, I can’t say. Are you saying you can’t imagine such a thing?”

“I suppose you are cold blooded.”

“Do you mean like… Capote?”

“You’ve never experienced hope or despair,” Master Byakuya said. “Even I, as I sail through the sea of life, encourage myself with the bait of hope and lash myself with the whip of despair. But you refuse to let hope, or even despair, into your life. That’s what they call being cold blooded.”

“I don’t really get what you’re saying, I’m not cold blooded.”

“Tell me then, what is your reason for being?”

“To complete your biography as the Super High School Level Secretary, Master Byakuya.”

“That’s right. You live to write Byakuyako. That’s the only thing you live for.”

Some would think I’d be saddened to hear such a thing, but that was far from the case. My supreme command is “Completing the biography is my foremost priority.”

“We read biographies and think we know about Helen Keller and Madame Curie,” Master Byakuya pushed up his glasses. “But how much fiction slipped into them?”

“Biographies are categorically non-fiction. Biographers are slaves to reality.”

“Hmph. That’s not the case. Traditional production, false anecdotes inflated from sources, virtue signaling… So many biographies are sprinkled with sweet sugars, dramatizing real events as if they’re taking advantage of a house fire to loot.”

“I would never do such a thing. Byakuyako is pure.”

“Do you know why biographers can’t follow such a simple rule?”

“No.”

“Because they’re human,” Master Byakuya exhaled briefly. “Can you tell me something from your position, Blue Ink? What do you think about each day as someone without hope or despair? Or do you believe in a concept bigger than hope and despair?”

“That is…”

“Desire.”

I heard Master Byakuya’s voice, however, Master Byakuya stood in front of me with his mouth shut.

“It’s desire. Desire that is far stronger than both hope and despair. That is because desire is the prototype, the origin, and original sin that birthed hope and despair. Desire is the intervening force behind every action.”

The voice was not only echoing from the hidden room. It was being sent out to the Church of Bones, to Prague, to the Czech Republic, and to the whole world.

“I found you, faker,” Master Byakuya smirked. “Show me your next move, try not to disappoint.”

The fake continued to speak, as if to say “of course.”

The both of them looked to be having fun.

Borges = View history #01106638 Title: “World Domination Declaration (Part 2)”

Desire.

It’s desire. Desire that is far stronger than both hope and despair. That is because desire is the prototype, the origin, and original sin that birthed hope and despair. Desire is the intervening force behind every action.

Tell me what it is you desire. Don’t be shy, go on.

I understand everything. It’s boring, isn’t it? You want adventure, don’t you?

I shall grant your desires. All you have to do is play my game. Participate in the World Domination Declaration. This is the world shattering event that will cure your boredom.

So allow me to give you a treat, dense bovines. I am currently in the Church of Bones.

Yes, I am in the Church of Bones all alone and unarmed.

Ripe… for slaughter. Go ahead, try and kill me. Now is the time to get serious. Try and kill the hope you oh so despise. Kill me, and I will be yours.

Or are you still just a whining maggot, even after all this has been set for you? I’ve provided the perfect opportunity for you, and yet you still make excuses to hide in your shell?

Oh well, I suppose it’s your life. Do as you like.

It’s okay to die as scum. It’s okay to die believing that you’re more than scum scum. It’s okay to become someone whose name will be engraved in the textbooks of history. Do what you want.

Effort can betray people, and there’s no guarantee that hard work will bear fruit. Still, without the desire to leave proof that you lived, you won’t be able to make a scratch on history. That is certain.

Oh well. I bid you adieu.

“It was a trap!” I cried. “W-what should we do? We made a huge mistake coming back to the Church of Bones…”

“It was our only option.”

“How are you being so nonchalant? We got tricked!”

“Think of it as a handicap. Something like a four-piece handicap in a game of shogi would be just right. And it’s not a particularly bad development. In a way, it’s a good thing that we came to the Church of Bones.”

Master Byakuya extended the antenna of the satellite phone he had taken out of the safe and began dialing a number without hesitation.

“Um, who exactly are you contacting?”

“It’s an order.”

“An order? Is it for a Visa?”

“It’s obviously an order for a hit. One from the former Super High School Level Hitman, Suzuhiko Otsuki.”

When I heard that name, my left eye…

…Almost like ink spilling over the edge of a bottle…

…Tears…

…Tears began to fall…

“It’s me, can you hear me?” Master Byakuya didn't notice anything strange about me as he held the satellite phone receiver to his ear.

“Dwahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha! May Buckingham always be in your heart! It is I, the true culprit in this magazine’s special edition… Allow me to shout to the crowd and let it be known, the iconic Suzuhiko Otsuki is here!”

A strange voice leaked from the speaker. It was the voice of a person who mocks the world and feasts on malice and vulgarity, the voice of a person who thinks that everyone other than himself is an idiot, without exception.

The voice of that man.

“Been a while, Byakuya. How’s it goin’? You givin’ world domination your best shot? Dyahahaha!”

“I’m not interested in idle musings. I’ll cut straight to the point, I’m making an order to kill someone.”

“Dyahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!”

“What’s so funny?”

“Is that even a question…? Dyahahahahahahahahahahaha! It’s obvious. It’s only natural to laugh after hearing somethin’ like that outta the little cute mouth of Byakuya, AKA the world’s most wanted.”

“The target on my head is my own business, not something you can laugh off.”

“Dyahahahaha! Good for you, bud. But I’m on a date right now.”

“You’re on a date?”

“I hope you realize I’m making this phone call in secret. Can’t let my darling honey know what I do for a living.”

“What are you on about?”

“Oh! This phone call reminded me, the other day I fought this clan of assassins. And their weapons were like scissors and bats, shit you’d see in the first half of a zombie flick. So I told ‘em, ‘I could beat you shits using a rice cooker!’ Dyahahahaha!”

“I don’t see what’s so funny about your story, nor do I see how it relates to this phone call.”

“S-seriously? Well then, anywho. I’ve already accepted a hit to kill this guy named Byakuya Togami.”

“Then there is nothing left to say.”

“Hey hey hey! Don’t hang up in such a hurry, Byakuya! You’re still as cold as ever, jeez. I haven’t even properly established my character yet.”

“That’s not my problem. I’m hanging up.”

“No need to be shy. We can talk about anything, anything’s ay-okay. Even Richard III.”

“Hmph, of course a hitman would bring up that name.”

“You’re the one who just tried ordering a hit, Byakuya. Just like how a bigshot places his hand on the Bible ‘fore a shootout, ya might as well place your hand on a copy of Richard III ‘fore requesting an assassination! Dyahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!”

Borges = Search results #11118905 Category: History, story Title: “Richard III”

The last king of England from the House of York, and the last king to die in battle.

In Shakespeare’s historical play ‘Richard III,’ he is portrayed as a man of terrible mind and body, twisted ambition, and a strangely captivating way of speaking. However Josephine Tey’s ‘The Daughters of Time’ argues that the negative portrayal associated with Richard III was unintentionally created by later generations.

There are many mysteries surrounding his life, and his true character has yet to be determined.

“Listen here, Otsuki. Do not forget that there is a world of difference between you and me,” Master Byakuya said, clutching the receiver tightly. “I give my stamp of approval to hitmen, then they fight their worthless consciences and destroy themselves.”

“Damn stupid. I cut ties with my conscience ages ago. It’s like, ‘Humans have lost their consciences and dance ‘til dawn.’ Consciences make people sick.”

“I already know you don’t have a shred of consciousness.”

“Dyahahaha! Thanks for the compliment. To thank you, I’ll kill you right~a~way~!”

“Try throwing me in a wine barrel.”

“You’re acting all tough, that’s not cute. Well then, Byakuya, keep yourself in one piece ‘til I get to ya. The second this call ends, you can’t turn your back on anyone. Dyahaha–”

“And so it is.” Before anyone could hear the unpleasant laughter, Master Byakuya hung up the satellite phone.

“Um, so whatever happened to your brilliant plan?”

“The world’s gotten so cheeky now that things just happen to not be going exactly according to my plan.”

“Master Byakuya, are you listening?”

“If the former Super High School Level Hitman is our enemy, then the situation has gotten gravely serious. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a little shaken up.”

If Master Byakuya, the man who only thinks of other people as mere worms or shrimp, has said this much, then it’s clear that that man, Otsuki’s talent, was…

…Incredible.

I think the only student that could stand a chance against him would be Ikusaba.

Despite knowing that, I asked, “Perhaps we should get Enoshima and Fukawa to do something about it?”

“It’s too much for a gyaru and a writer to handle. You know very well that that’s beyond the world that they’re from. We have no choice but to deal with the impostor before Otsuki makes it to the Czech Republic.”

“That’s stupid, it’s impossible”

“What’s impossible is dealing with them both at once, and I request that you refrain from calling me stupid again.”

“…I have a suggestion.”

“Speak.”

“Let’s use ‘that.’”

That being his hidden move.

A finishing move that could change the world.

A word that would send the world into a frenzy.

However…

“I will walk my own path, using my own power.”

Dud.

Dududud.

Dududududududududud!

Suddenly, the sound of countless storming footsteps echoed. A thick atmosphere enveloped the Church of Bones.

It’s boring, isn’t it?

You want adventure, don’t you?

I shall grant your desires.

Perhaps Borges’ contact was poor, but the audio started playing automatically.

It’s true that I’m currently in the middle of an adventure, all thanks to the impostor.

The time was 10 PM. Four hours had already passed since the World Domination Declaration was issued.

There were many people under the still light-filled sky. Many faces expressed anger, passion, and even some anxiety. The Church of Bones was completely surrounded.

“It feels like the finale of the Yokohama Arena tour!” Hiroyuki and Yuika had climbed to the top of one of the Church of Bones’ three spires.

“What on earth is this?”

“Hey, young lady. Looks like we’ve got a few guests tryna kill you.”

The sight of the people looking up at me reminded me of a parade. It was exactly like the parade held by Hope’s Peak Reserve course. Its barrenness, its arrogance, its violence, its cowardice, its gaze, everything about it.

I have a headache. I need to take some aspirin. My head suddenly started to pound, and then… Yuika’s hand gently rested on my forehead.

“Pat pat.” Her sleepy voice and expression had a calming effect. Next, Yuika handed me a konpeito.

“Why are you giving me candy at a time like this?”

“It’s sweet.”

“I know that.”

“You knew that? Even though it’s so spiky?”

“S-sorry…”

“Thank you for your many great efforts.”

“Eh?”

“It’s babysitting.”

There was no time to ask her what she meant, we immediately spotted a fire rising from the Church of Bones.

They set it ablaze!

The people who set the fire were excited by the sight of the red-hot fire and let out cries of joy.

“Oh, it’s burning, it’s burning,” Hiroyuki said, looking down from the spire. “You know, I’m known as the ‘King of Flame Wars,’ online but it’s kinda shocking when one happens in real life.”

“Hey, this is no time for jokes.”

“I wonder if this is what Nobunaga felt while he was burning at that temple.”

“If you don’t have an escape plan, then be quiet.”

“Oh no, I’ve been scolded! Fine, if you say so, my lips are sealed nice and tight. Até breve, obrigado! See you next time!”

As our pointless conversation went on, the flames grew over the church walls. The old church was not fireproof, and if this continued, we would be reduced to ashes along with the skulls of about 40,000 people.

A low sound was faintly heard among the voices of the people, the sound of an engine.

The gates of the Church of Bones bursted open and it roared its giant tires as it charged into the grounds.

“Commoners, please stay away from the Church of Bones. We are from Hope’s Peak Academy!”

It was a decoration truck, commonly known as an art truck. It featured excessive LED lights, glittering aero parts, and brightly painted containers.

This uniquely Japanese culture has been receiving a lot of praise as art lately. These strange trucks, operated by delivery men, can even be seen on local highways and at parking areas.

But this is not Tochigi or Chiba, this is the Czech Republic, and when the occupant of the art truck is a student from Hope’s Peak Academy, things change.

The art truck that had parked on the grounds of the Church of Bones had the words “Luxury and Splendor” and “Royal Business” painted on the front, and a large illustration of Princess Sonia was painted on the container.

Beside the illustration were words that would lower your IQ just by reading them.

“Raised like a princess,

I cried at imperial school,

Hope’s flower shall bloom.

Let’s go, move beyond,

To the other side of time…

-Sonia Nevermind”

“Apologies for keeping you waiting, but we have arrived just in time.” The metallic driver’s door was opened, and Princess Sonia stepped out.

She was greeted with applause. The crowd, who had previously been hellbent on attacking us just a moment ago, were now in a frenzy at the arrival of the Super High School Level Princess.

No matter the generation, a young, beautiful woman is the perfect person to admonish and incite the people.

“To the people of the Czech Republic, I am truly sorry for the recent scandal that occurred at Hope’s Peak Academy.” Princess Sonia bowed her head gracefully. “I understand that you all want to destroy Byakuya Togami here and now. But I ask that you please entrust him to me. Would you people allow me to correct your misguided hopes?”

The power of envious influence. The contents of the speech were nothing special, but the atmosphere makes it hard to believe that, and the people are speechless.

“Miss Sonia! Miss Sonia! Wait for me!” Soda climbed over the gate that the decorated truck had destroyed.

I used Borges’s audio inspection function to concentrate on their conversation.

“Have no fear, Soda, chin up.”

“Haah... No, no, it’s not that, Miss Sonia. I’m not embarrassed, I’m just tired. I ran here at full speed after all.”

“You should have just gotten in the art truck. After all, you’re the one who made it for me, Soda.”

“Uh, I get motion sickness, remember?”

“That’s a complicated situation.”

“Don’t call it a situation!”

“So then how did you come from Japan all the way to the Czech Republic, Soda?”

“Did you forget that too? That girl said, ‘If you’re scared of flying, why don’t you just sleep?’ and then stabbed me with an injection! I practically fell into a coma thanks to that…”

“Just like King Kong. Rest in peace, just like the movie version that was a huge flop.”

“Jeez, that hurts more than you think, Miss Sonia.”

“Is the intel that Togami entered the Church of Bones reliable?”

“It was on the security camera. It seems that those two are still with him.”

“And how’s our ‘swindler’ doing?”

“Did you even hear that speech just now, Miss Sonia? He’s getting really caught up in the Byakuya Togami role. Though he seems to be trying out this ‘good guy’ thing compared to the real one.”

“Togami is the perfect example of a misunderstood bad boy. It’s easier to understand if you think of him like Xellos from Slayers or Howard from Uninhabited Planet Survive.”

“What are you talking about…?”

“Aw shoot, ol’ Sonia’s gonna burst into tears.”

“Uh, ahem, a-anyways. The swindler guy is in top form. All we need to do now is to get the real Byakuya Togami out here and we’ll be done, so cheer up, Miss Sonia.”

“That’s right. It might not be in my best interest to organize a national assassination on you because we have different interests.”

“National power sure is scary.”

“It would be painless.”

“It would absolutely not be painless!”

Princess Sonia uttered a catchphrase that didn’t quite make sense, and pointed at us at the spire. There were a few words that caught my attention, but I’ll get back to them later.

Princess Sonia… Soda… The students of Hope’s Peak Academy have officially attacked.

We need to think of something. Think of a way to survive. Just like back then.

Looking around, it seemed Princess Sonia's charisma was dominating the scene. She exuded the energy of “leave the rest to Hope’s Peak Academy,” and everyone did.

“You’re welcome to start anytime, Miss Sonia! You won’t even get sick just by operating it!” Soda climbed into the driver’s seat of the art truck, and the container opened to reveal a crane for high-altitude work.

Princess Sonia climbed into the crane’s platform below. The people watched in awe as the crane extended with a revving sound, approaching the spire where we were.

“Now I finally understand how both the wrecking ball and Miley Cyrus felt all at once!”

So she meant she was just going to come up here directly? It’s simple, but that's why it’s a surefire way to capture us.

With no weapons to repel them, we could only stare as Princess Sonia approached, like children waiting for Santa Claus to arrive.

The optical rangefinder installed in Borges calmly displayed the information of Princess Sonia’s approach.

Twenty meters. Fourteen meters. A few meters…

“That’s enough, fools.”

Come to think of it, I hadn’t looked at Master Byakuya yet.

I found Master Byakuya on one of the three spires… He sat on the edge of the tower. His golden hair flowing in the wind in front of the people… In front of the enemy…

He was fair and honorable, smiling like a true overlord.

“There are those who treat life as a mere game. A life in which you aim for the best ending may indeed resemble a game. I can’t help but agree with this approach of treating school, work, relationships, and managing your life as if you were playing a game. Everything is a game of win or lose, after all. The winners get drunk on fine wine, and the losers taste the bitterness. That is the simplicity of the game of life.”

Silence. The people, Princess Sonia, and Soda all listen in silence to Master Byakuya’s words.

What is he saying? What is his goal? I can’t understand.

“Obviously there are lives where you become a winner and then fall off, or ones where you’re the only one who believes you’re a winner. In some lives, the loser makes an incredible comeback at the end, and some lives where you keep trying but never taste what it’s like to win. There is no optimal method to winning, and there is no secret button combo. The starting conditions and starting equipment are all different. Everyone has different amounts of money and time to invest. It’s an unkind, unequal game. That’s what makes it fun, but I can also understand the arguments of defeatists who say it makes them feel unmotivated.”

Master Byakuya took a deep breath, as if to confirm the effect of his words.

“Some of you are experiencing this as an event. Some of you are rejoicing that the time has finally come for excitement in your lives, which up until now has been nothing more than a shitty game. That’s right. This is a major event hosted by me, Byakuya Togami. A celebration, adventure, something extraordinary, a dramatic reversal. And now I grant you a brand new bonus stage. Pay attention.”

Then, Master Byakuya scattered the gold bars from the safe across the ground like a whim from the heavens.

“I declare the opening of the bonus stage. Whoever can rescue me from the flames of the Church of Bones before the people of Hope’s Peak Academy can catch me will receive these bars of gold.”

Master Byakuya then dropped another gold bar, as if to make his point clear.

The people below stared at the shining golden bar before realizing that it was the real deal. Watching from the top of the tower, you could see the ripple effect in their hearts. Faced with a brand new bonus stage, the people began to ponder their desires.

Why did they come to the Tower of Bones in the first place? Now that they’ve gotten this far, how much more would they be willing to embarrass themselves?

It took less than five minutes for their behavior to shift.

The people began scaling burning walls, attempting to put out the fires with mineral water and rushing towards Soda in the driver’s seat, trying to get to Master Byakuya at all costs.

“Hehehe… Look at them risking their lives for something pathetic like this,” Master Byakuya said smugly as he looked at the scene below.

I, too, was enamored with Master Byakuya’s divine nature. No, I was in pure and utter awe.

I wanted to write Byakuyako. I was consumed with the urge to write. Ahh, the desire to work…

I want to fulfill my purpose, my duty as Blue Ink. My hands, brain, and heart itched.

I am the act of writing itself. I am the very act and manifestation of writing. I am a writing puppet. That’s why…

Yes, that’s why… I could feel the blush on my face increase as thoughts came flooding in.

He lost everything, his name, his identity… And yet he’s fighting for his redemption, all while dressed in a beautiful tuxedo. Right beside me.

What does that mean? At this very moment, am I the only person in the whole world who believes in his existence? Do I have him to myself?

I came to this realization. So in the end, I’ll only tell the world how I felt.

I was on cloud nine.

Some of the people tried to take over the crane, thinking that it might be the quickest way to reach Master Byakuya.

“Halt commoners! It’s dangerous! Only parade-goers can do that, such as on Japan’s new year parades!”

Princess Sonia’s trivia was drowned out by a deafening sound. It was a high-pitched sound that seemed to destroy my eardrums… No, it might as well have destroyed my ears themself. I instinctively covered my ears, but the piercing pain made it impossible to think straight.

Next came a gust of wind strong enough to shake the spire.

“Thaaaaaaaaaaat’s iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!”

Princess Sonia’s delicate body floated off of the gondola, then blew far away. If this were Team Rocket, she would have surely shouted, “Team Rocket’s blasting off again!”

What on earth was happening? Before I knew it, a huge cloud of dust had risen from the ground.

A new silhouette appeared in the dust. A huge, misshapen shadow.

Soon it appeared, and it was an incredibly bizarre vehicle. It had two jet engines resembling crab claws mounted on the front of the transport vehicle. I didn’t understand its purpose or its mechanics. It was incomplete, both as a weapon and as a vehicle, and it looked deformed.

But like any person in the modern era, when in need, I use the information at my fingertips.

Borges = Search results #41908870 Category: Weapons Title: “Uragan”

A minesweeping vehicle developed by the Czechoslovak People’s Army in the 1960s. It was developed to blow up mines underground with the use of jet exhaust. Since simply detonating the mines was easier and used less resources, it was retired.

While there have been plans to repurpose it, ultimately the amount of dust kicked up was extraordinary, and the efficiency was not much different from that of a human being, so those plans were put on hold.

Two people were on board this failed weapon, the Uragan, both wearing lab coats.

One was a redheaded man who was using an umbrella despite the fine weather. The other was a girl who was elementary school age at most, and she was the one operating the Uragan.

The Uragan with the two of them on board, with the sound of its jet engine revving, blasphemously rode up and over the gravestones and approached the Church of Bones.

“Mmmmmm… Mmmmmmm.!” Hiroyuki hummed his mouth as if he wanted to say something. Perhaps his lips were still sealed.

“That’s enough, speak.”

“Those guys are the Hasegawas!”

Borges = Search results #65926750 Category: Institutions Title: “Hasegawa Research Institute”

A research institute under the command of a man named Yoshinobu Hasegawa, which researches all academic subjects regardless of field. It is a highly confidential institution and does not report or announce any results.

The organization that runs it, MacGuffin Computers (USA), is a well-known company, but has consistently maintained a no-comment stance on the Hasegawa Research Institute.

Compared to the average person, I have deep ties to conglomerates and organizations. So even to me, the Hasegawa Research Institute was like an urban legend.

Everyone knows it exists, everyone knows the name and location. And yet no one actually works there.

There have been many rumors, such as a friend of a friend developing a new drug, or an acquaintance of an acquaintance working on human beauty treatments at a facility deep in the mountains, but no one truly knows anything about it.

“The Hasegawas? You mean from Hasegawa Research Institute?” He couldn’t help but ask the pointless question.

“The one and only,” Hiroyuki shrugged.

“Does the Hasegawa Research Institute also want Master Byakuya?”

“To be precise, what they want is the secret to the Togami clan’s prosperity. There’s countless people who want it. The Ketoin Corporation and the Hasegawa Research Institute are probably just the tip of the iceberg.”

I wanted to ask for more information, but the world wouldn’t let me. As soon as I heard that ear piercing high-pitched sound, the sound of a jet engine revving, the Uragan began its attack.

Kaboooooom!

The face of Princess Sonia painted on the container was deeply dented. Soda was stunned, panicking in the art truck, unable to move.

Princess Sonia’s voice could be heard, “Soda, take evasive action immediatelyyyyyyy…!” I could see Princess Sonia opening her parachute and fluttering in the wind.

But the art truck didn’t budge, meanwhile the Uragan began mercilessly shooting the pressure generated by its jet engine at the container.

Kaboooooom! Pow pow pow pow!

Some people got caught in the crossfire and got squashed like tomatoes. Perhaps realizing that the difficulty of the bonus stage was no longer worth it, the people fled the premises like a scattering of spiderlings.

“Hmph. What a bunch of useless idiots,” Master Byakuya snorted in dissatisfaction. “If you value your life, then don’t play the game in the first place.”

“Soda! Please get the art truck on the move!” Princess Sonia tossed her parachute aside and ran over to Soda.

“Even if that’s what you desire, Miss Sonia, I can’t do that!” Soda cried from the driver’s seat. "It’s straight up impossible! I get dizzy and vomit easily…”

Presumably deciding that there was no other way around it, Princess Sonia tossed Soda aside and started the art truck.

The two vehicles moved around, knocking down gravestones one after another in the not-so-large battleground. The giant tires dug into the soil and flowers, leaving tracks behind.

Princess Sonia’s driving skills were quite impressive, and she got behind the Uragan. The Uragan, which could only attack from the front, had no choice but to focus on evading.

“Hey! Heyyyy!” Soda was running around and away from the mass of iron that was swerving in all directions.

“Soda, what are you doing down there?”

“Didn’t you just throw me down here, Miss Sonia?”

“Hurry up and jump in the art truck!”

“That’s impossible in so many different ways! I’ll cry and vomit all over the place!”

“But I can’t combine by myself?”

“Say that again?”

“I want to combine with you, Soda.”

“Say that again!?”

“So I want to combine with you, Soda…”

“Miss Sonia, I’m going to record that in the highest quality audio ever now, so could you say that again?”

“Just hurry up!” Sonia scolded.

It was a display of superhuman strength in an emergency. Soda displayed incredible athletic ability, grabbing hold of the moving art truck and climbing into the driver’s seat.

“Jack oooooonnnnnnn!”

The moment Princess Sonia shouted loudly, the mechanical shifting began with a clanging sound. Arms stretched, legs came out, and finally…

“Face the overwhelming power of the Bogart Truck!”

It was a humanoid mech. It was a robot that was very passionately designed to look like some kind of delinquent, the kind you’d find guarding the halls at a high school in Hiroshima.

In the driver's seat, which also served as the robot’s chest, sat Princess Sonia with a big smile and Soda with a pale face. It would be rude to point out something like that, so everyone begrudgingly ignored it. The Bogart Truck spread its legs to cushion the impact and shouted “Back Button Blast!” as it fired its cannon.

The Uragan, which couldn’t possibly defend itself, made a jarring turn to avoid the cannon, but the Bogart Truck immediately took aim and fired the next shot, calling out “Bully Beam!” for some reason, I couldn’t tell you why. The Uragan’s current trajectory meant it couldn’t possibly dodge.

Bang!

…but the shot flew in the complete wrong direction and exploded in the air.

“Weak,” a voice murmured. “An assault without fists is too weak.”

A flesh-and-blood human was standing on the battlefield where the machines were clashing. The person stood tall and imposing on the battlefield, delivering a speech.

“The heavens are calling!

The earth is calling!

The people are calling!

All calling me to vanquish despair!

Listen here and listen well, despair!

I am a true warrior of hope, I am the Muscle Mask!”

No matter how you looked at it, it was obviously just Ogami wearing a mask…

Masks are an essential item at any Czech carnival, but they just hide your face, not your muscles.

Wearing a flashy mask, Muscle Mask aka Ogami closed the distance between her and the Bogart Truck in only a few steps.

“I grant you only three seconds.”

Her fists smashed down and Princess Sonia and Soda leaped out of the mech at the same time. The driver’s seat, decorated with vehicular parts, was crushed like paper mache.

The sound of a jet engine revving could be heard from behind the wrecked Bogart Truck. It was the Uragan, and it fired its air pressure and Ogami.

“Destroy!” A shout of determination drowned out the sound. The two weapons were rendered completely helpless.

This is it, this right here, this is the power of the Super High School Level Fighter.

“Togami, I heard the details from Enoshima,” Ogami looked up at the spire. “There’s something fishy about all of this. Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

“Hehehe. You’re impressive,” Master Byauya clapped his hands appraisingly. “As long as you function as an instrument of destruction, that’s enough for me. An instrument of destruction must act like an instrument of destruction and eliminate all destruction with destruction. Look, here comes the next attack.”

Danananana daaa daaa! Danananana daaa daaa naaa!

The famous riff from Lenny Kravitz’s hit song “Are You Gonna Go My Way” rang out.

What is this time?

“It’s me this time!” A figure appeared above the Uragan.

The one mastering the guitar is… Taeko?

Encouraging her, the Uragan began to blow fire from the ground, causing a cloud of dust to rise.

Taeko enters the stage, charging at Ogami.

Ogami caught the guitar that was swung down on her head just in time.

“Raaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh!”

“Ngggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhh!”

“Jimmy Page intentionally made the sound thinner by phasing his Les Paul!”

“Instruments are meant to be performed!” Ogami swept the guitar away, and Taeko quickly regained her balance in mid-air and landed as if nothing had happened.

“That girl’s from the Hasegawa Research Institute,” Hiroyuki said, revealing a shocking truth. “She’s apparently the one who's supposed to watch us.”

So that means…

1.) Hope’s Peak Academy (Princess Sonia and Soda)

2.) Hasegawa Research Institute (The two in white coats and Taeko)

3.) Master Byakuya’s Party (The Ketoin Corporation, Ogami, and us)

We were players in a triple threat match.

Ogami and Taeko have already clashed. Ogami seems to be more skilled, but the Uragan’s rear support is getting in the way so she can’t land a decisive blow.

Meanwhile, from what we can see, the Bogart Truck seems to have lost its primary control system. Princess Sonia crossed her arms in a sulky mood, and Soda was holding a bag of vomit.

“Ora ora ora ora ora ora ora!”

“With my still, calm, and clear mind, your attacks appear to be nothing but merely standing still.”

“Grah! The guitar attack isn’t working… is what I’d say if I was lying-kick!"

“You’re cunning, little girl.”

“Little girls are always cunning, y’know? You should really stop working out so much and enjoy your youth!”

“My muscles are my youth!”

“Poor youth.” Taeko shakes off her legs and resumes hitting with the guitar. “Youth is about breaking school windows at night and forming an impromptu band at the school festival!”

“Are you forcing your youth onto me?”

“You’re the one spending all your time working out instead of falling in love!”

“How dare you assume I’ve never fallen in love!” Ogami's elbow strikes Taeko squarely in the side.

Taeko is sent flying, but this time she can’t regain her balance causing her chest to bounce off the ground like rubber.

The Uragan uses air pressure to hold back Ogami as she tries to pursue Taeko. Taeko takes this opportunity to stand up and she spits out some blood. “You have some balls actually going against me, I’m the bullfighter here.”

“Up against you? You have a high opinion of yourself. You’re completely outmatched by me.”

“I refuse to give in. If I did, then it’d be over. Don’t you think it’s important to have the strength to not accept defeat?”

“Why are you so hung up on landing a one shot?”

“Cause it’s cool, duh. I’m not interested in winning by digits.”

“You really think that would work on me?”

“You think I don’t know that?”

“Ngh…?” Ogami’s eyes widened.

“My attacks are indeed too big, but there’s a reason for that. My job is to stop you, not defeat you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I attack. You dodge. Then the Uragan gouges the ground and I perform my attack while scattering mines. And in the end, the Uragan covers it with dust again… Oops, you shouldn’t have moved carelessly. This is a high-density mine field now!”

Taeko lifts her skirt, and several mines fall down like a girl’s secret.

“I see.”

“Now I’ve sealed your movement. I don’t underestimate your jumping power, but I doubt you can break through here without making a single misstep.”

“And what about you guys?”

“What about us?”

“You guys can’t move either. Looking at that vehicle, it looks like it has a minesweeping function, but once we clear the battleground, you’ll be pursued.”

“I got that covered already.” From the back of Taeko… a balloon emerged, inflating. She floated up gently, like a character from a picture book.

The duo in lab coats aboard the Uragan also inflated a balloon from their backs and floated into the sky.

“This is everyone’s favorite Fulton Recovery System!” Taeko shouted. “We’ll get outta here without having to walk through the minefield!”

A shadow began to appear. I looked up and saw a transport plane flying low above the ground.

Fwoosh… Fwoooosh…

I heard a deflating sound, and it turned out that the balloon that had shot into Master Byakuya had inflated, sending him floating.

“Master Byakuya!” I reached out with my hand, but there was no way I could reach the spire on the other side. Like a balloon that a child has accidentally let go of, Master Byakuya rose into the sky in an instant. “Master Byakuya!”

No… No no no… This can’t be. I don’t want to be separated any more!

“Don’t make that face,” Master Byakuya said as he had his arms and legs crossed, looking calm even though he was floating high in the sky. It was like he was saying there was nothing to worry about, as if encouraging me not to give into this hell. “Hey, Blue Ink, tell me what your mission is.”

“...Completing the biography is my foremost priority.”

“Then observe. Observe this scene, this situation, this adversity, and write. Write like you’ve never written before.”

“Hey sis! Wahahahaha, sis!”

Yuika was far up in the sky. Now that I think about it, there were two shots fired, but of course I didn’t have time to worry about that.

“Can you hear me?”

“Y-yes!”

“I’m giving you an order, so listen carefully. Protect me, even if it;s you vs. the world.”

The transport plane collected all of the balloons and vanished. At that moment, the Church of Bones finally gave in and crumbled, burying both Hiroyuki and me.

#danganronpa #dr #dr togami #danganronpa togami

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adventuresinclientservice · 4 months ago

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Nine years after.

Friday began like most others, with a regular visit to the gym, first for a weight-lifting session, followed by cardio. But what began as normal did not end that way; after a three-week hospital detour where survival was at issue, I returned home, grateful to everyone for their hope and help.

If you’re wondering why I didn’t wait until next year’s 10th anniversary milestone to commemorate my near-death experience, there is no better time like the present. I plan to post this again next year, and the year after, and the year after that, but not knowing what the future holds, here’s what I wrote, for those who are interested:

Three reasons why I didn’t die.

For the past five-plus years, I’ve made it a practice of posting to Adventures at least once a week and, when an occasion calls for it or minor inspiration strikes, sometimes more. How do I know? I looked.

So where have I been these past three-plus weeks? You might have thought of me as among the disappeared, but there’s a far simpler explanation, best explained as the three reasons why I didn’t die. The first is about speed. The second is about competence. The third is about love.

Here’s the backstory.

Survival belongs to the swift and sure.

Friday, February 26: off to the gym for my regularly scheduled, 45-minute weight lifting session, followed by a 45-minute, elliptical cardio sweat session.

I didn’t get past flat bench. After a warm-up set, then doing 3 sets of 60-lb dumb bell presses, feeling good about achieving, yet again, 3 sets of 12 reps, I backed off the weights by 5 lbs. After finishing that set, and with only one set remaining, I was ready to move on, except for the minor thing going on in my head.

“It’s nothing” I thought. ”It’ll pass.” Except it didn’t. After a few minutes of waiting for things to “clear,” then becoming alarmed when they didn’t, I realized I needed to find my wife Roberta, who also was at the gym, attacking a treadmill. As I stumbled from the weight lifting section to the cardio area, a veteran trainer named Judy, along with her manager colleague Cathy, saw I was struggling and had the presence of mind to ask, “Are you okay?”

I clearly was not okay. Judy and Cathy took charge, found me a chair, sat me down, got Roberta, and called an ambulance. As I would later discover, their speed and decisiveness would prove a critical difference maker, perhaps the critical difference maker.

The gym we work out at actually is part of the Queen of the Valley Hospital, roughly a block from the hospital itself, allowing the ambulance to show up in minutes. The ambulance crew arrived, saw I was in trouble, and took control. Before long, I was strapped to a gurney, then wheeled into the ambulance for the very short trip to the hospital.

Time elapsed: the duration felt interminable, but in total no more than 30 minutes passed from the moment I felt something amiss, to my crossing the emergency room doors.

Survival belongs to the capable and caring.

The ICU Intensivist, Dr. Schroeder, was among the first to see me, but it became quickly apparent I am in need of a neurosurgeon. Serendipity seemed to play its hand here: a UCSF Board Certified Neurosurgeon, Dr, Nguyen Do, was on the scene and participated in my evaluation. I was of little help, but a cat scan revealed a brain bleed. I am assuredly no doctor, but I think you would say I was suffering from what most of us would describe as a cerebral hemorrhage.

These things are scary: there simply is no place for the hemorrhaging blood to go. Your blood pressure can rise, your heart rate can go haywire, you can destabilize, you can die.

I spent Friday night in the ICU disoriented and in pain. When the bleed didn’t abate, Dr. Do decided to intervene Saturday by drilling into my skull to insert a drain that would relieve pressure on my brain. This, I now realize, is what you call brain surgery.

On Sunday, with me still not stable, my breathing labored, my oxygen saturation levels still low, Dr. Do decided to intervene again by re-intubating and re-catheterizing me. As sick as I was, I fought the decision hard. But Roberta trusted Dr. Do; I trusted Roberta. In the end, I went back on a breathing tube.

On Tuesday the tube came out; that was a relief, but I remained very ill. What got me through what were terribly dark and uncertain days was the accumulated compassion and competence of the entire – yes, I mean entire – hospital team. Not just the doctors, who often are the high-profile, thank-you-for-saving-my-life performers, but the nurses and others, who every day quietly go about the mission of keeping patients stable, hopeful, and alive.

I just wish I could summon all of their names, but remember ICU nurse Janie Salinger, who was an immense source of support and steadiness when I was at my worst and Roberta was on her own. There was Steve, Virginia, Jalena, Lisa, Lori, Keaton, Devin, Mary, Josh, Janet, Judy, Esther, Erin, Rob, Michaela, and Jenna, who each, in their own way, were remarkably steady and capable when I was wobbly and disoriented. There were literally scores of others who will remain anonymous and beyond the reach of my memory, who made sure I was as well as I could possibly be at a time when my future was anything but assured.

I spent 12 days in the ICU, transitioned to a traditional room for two days before arriving in Acute Rehabilitative Care, where I spent the last week slowly recovering.

Survival belongs to love.

Roberta was on her own for the first two days I was in hospital; they were beyond hard. The difference maker? Roberta’s sister Tracy, who flew in from Boston.

Tracy is exactly the sibling you want to have in times of crisis: always present, always helpful, never someone you need to be concerned with. She was an extraordinarily calming presence in a roiling sea of uncertainty, where things could quickly come apart.

But it is Roberta herself for whom I reserve the greatest degree of admiration and awe. Without her, I would not be writing you now. If Roberta’s love were a shield, I would live forever.

What all of this means.

I was released from hospital last Friday, three weeks to the day since I was first admitted to the ICU, and am now on the mend. If you’re simply curious about what happened to me these past three weeks, you can call it a day.

But you might just as easily say, “We’re sorry you got sick, Robert, but what the hell does any of this have to do with client service?”

When I think of serving clients, I can’t help but think about those nurses who cared for me, day-after-never-ending-day. It’s not just about their technical competence, which they demonstrated in great abundance. It’s about their consistency, their compassion, their unwavering support of and commitment to the welfare and best interests of their patients.

If client service people brought the same level of dedication to serving clients as my nurses brought to serving me, there would be far fewer agency reviews and far fewer account shifts, both outcomes of an ever deepening level of trust.

My hospital stay taught me something simple, yet profound. The lesson? Going forward, I am going to take my cues from my nurses, secure in the knowledge this is what will best serve the needs of my clients.

#survival #surgery #nurses #advertising #marketing

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spicyclover · 2 years ago

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Race of champions | Part two

Summary: This is the first time Mabel will attend a racing event. All happy and full of apprehension, the dream weekend will take a somewhat dramatic turn.

Character name: Mabel Lindberg, aka May.

Part one | Part two | Part three

Hope you’ll enjoy this part. Let me know in the comments section! And to support me by tipping me!

Little information, I will, for now, only post on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.

Thank you, and Enjoy! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

In her sleep, she dreams of a weird thing. Something dark and sweet at the same time.

Saturday morning feels different. Everyone is excited about the first part of the competition. Today the crown is the world’s fastest nation. Every team will be performing at their best. She can’t wait till noon.

This morning she ran around the track with some of the drivers. They were extremely friendly to everyone who came to them. Answering everyone and all. “This is clearly the best weekend ever!” She thought as she prepared herself to leave for the race.

The start of competition started well. The different teams did laps of practice before setting off for the race. The first riders pass, and the excitement goes up a notch. The crowd is delirious, and despite the biting cold, no one complains.

Mabel made friends through the crowd. Speaking with tournament animation, she has stars full of eyes to see the cars paraded at high speed on the circuit. Everything runs smoothly.

It is the turn of Mick Schumacher to pass on the circuit. The first lap goes well, but in the second, he loses control of his car without apparent reason. The wheels skid in one of the turns, and the vehicle comes at full speed on a slight slope that propels it in the air. Time stops, and the scene seems to go in slow motion for the present world.

With eyes filled with terror, she sees the car approaching at high speed and rubs her before crashing a few meters longer in a snowbank. The crowd lost its voice, and even the event's music stopped.

Without thinking, Mabel heads towards the car, still running and spinning in the void. She has no idea why she decides to intervene, but her brain is not responding. The front of the car is wholly embedded in the snow, but the engine is still running. She manages to open the door on the driver’s side or is unconscious Mick, his foot pressed in the pedal.

She puts her hand in the vehicle and waits for the power button, and she presses it, and the car finally stops working.

She raises her head and falls nose to nose with Mick’s helmet. She raises his head so that he does not choke. His teammate is conscious and trying to understand what is happening, but the shock is brutal for both.

The paramedics arrived at the scene of the accident and quickly took over. Mabel retreated, still shocked and shaken. With rapid breathing and shortness of breath, she can feel panic. However, she was cut short in her moment when Sebastian Vettel rushes towards her, taking her at a further distance from the scene.

He turns the young woman to him and hastens to call for help. She didn’t realize it, but a large gash burned into her skin when the car flew. Pieces of ice are stuck in her cheek, and he doesn’t understand how she can’t feel anything.

She puts her hand on her cheek and realizes the severity of the cut. The blood flows, and her gloves are quickly dyed red.

“Are you okay?” Asks Sebastian as he holds her so the paramedic can help her.

“I don’t feel my face,” she mumbles, lost in her head.

“You’re lucky that it didn’t touch your eyes. But we’re gonna have to bring you to the hospital. Get in the truck,” says the doctor, who gives her a compress to keep on the wound.

Sitting in the ambulance, they take Mick in with her. He is still unconscious, and they fear a celebratory commotion or worse. Forbidden to the scene, she sits next to the driver. Unable to say something. To reassure herself, she grabs his hand and feels a little better. The warmth of the hand makes a feel more confident. She feels that the hand is gripping hers, even though it is minimal.

They arrive at the closest hospital.

#mick schumacher #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher fluff #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 #sebastian vettel

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bl00dgutsgl0ry · 4 years ago

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Let Me Feel You For a While

Pairing - Zhongli x Fem!Reader

Warnings - 18+ NSFW SMUT DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU ARE A MINOR PLEASE!!! Breeding kink (im sorry), slight blood, marking/biting, accidental voyeurism? THIGH RIDING YES PLEASE, AND SHARP TEETH MAKE ME DROOL. Oh btw spoilers for the Farewell Archaic Lord I think? General spoiler warning for genshin.

Word Count - 1.7k.

Other Comments - You guys have NO IDEA how much I love Zhongli oh my god I love him. I slept on him at first but ever since my eyes were opened I realized how wrong I was for that. Anyway enjoy!!

@sadpsychologist @barbqtos

Zhongli had money, he was just dumb and never brought it with him; too used to the routine of just making more Mora if he ever needed to buy anything while he was an Archon. This being said, that also meant he had one of the most elaborate bedrooms you’d ever laid eyes on. The room was filled with rich browns and shimmering golds, his bed sheets made from the finest silks. Archons never really slept, which meant the Zhongli had made this room as ethereal as possible just for you.

You were laying across the cold white gold sheets, hair clinging to your forehead from the sweat. Your fingers were dancing around your clit, rubbing harshly at times before dipping into your wet cunt and pumping them in and out roughly. You were so horny it was uncomfortable, and since you had gotten accustomed to your lover's large member, your fingers were doing much for you. You needed something better. You shakily stood from the bed, before kneeling down and pulling out the box and you guys only got into when the two of you were really in the mood. You quickly found what you were looking for, as it was the largest thing in the box. You pulled the dildo out of the box before quickly shoving the box back under your bed.

Zhongli didn’t really like when you took matters into your own hands, as he wanted to always be the one thing that made you melt. He wanted to pleasure you in ways that you never would have imagined. At this point you were quickly pumping the dildo in and out of yourself, lost in the pleasure as you moaned out loudly. You weren’t worried about anyone hearing since you were alone in the house and Zhongli wasn’t going to be home for a while. You can imagine your shock and horror when you opened your eyes to see Zhongli standing in the doorway, dick already straining hard against the large man’s dress pants.

“Ah you finally noticed my presence.” Your face was even redder when those words left his lips. How long had he been standing there watching you fuck yourself roughly with the large silicone tool. You let out a low whimper, beginning to pump the object in and out of yourself again, too worked up to be embarrassed. You heard Zhongli chuckle lightly before the loud sounds of his dress shoes against the hardwood floor could be heard. You felt Zhongli’s gloved hands halt your movements before brushing your hand away and pulling the dildo out, setting it aside for cleaning at a later time. Soft desperate whimpers falling from your mouth as your chest heaved up and down. Zhongli pressed soft kisses to your face, his gloved hands running up and down your naked body, brushing against your nipples causing you to jolt.

“You’re so sensitive my dear.” Your hands were looking for purchase on any part of his body, finally landing on his strong biceps. You squeezed his arms hard, wiggling around and continuing to whimper.

“Nothing feels as good as you Zhongli, please… please help me. Fill me Zhongli, stuff me.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, your lips swollen from chewing on them.

“Well it looked like you were having a good time with the dildo sweetheart.” Warm embarrassment bloomed in your chest and you desperately tried to pull Zhongli down by his collar. Zhongli’s lips attacked your, passionately biting at yours, Zhongli’s sharp canines drawing blood before he swiped it away with a quick flick of his tongue.

He continued this assault on your flesh as he went lower. He made sure to mark you anywhere that was visible, it made his pride swell when he saw you walking around Liyue trying and failing to cover up bitemarks and deep purple hickies. Zhongli pulled back to admire his work, before propping himself up on the edge of the bed. Strong arms manhandled you, forcing you to straddle his thigh. You blushed profusely when you realized what Zhongli wanted you to do.

“But- but your pants Zhongli, I don’t want to ruin them…” A small smile and eyes filled with pure admiration poured into yours. He carded his fingers through your hair, pushing back any strays behind your ear in the process.

“My dearest, you have always been so considerate, but for tonight don’t worry about anything, just do what comes natural to you. My clothes can be cleaned, and if not I will buy another pair.” Zhongli’s hands gripped your hips tightly, starting to move you back and forth on his thigh. You clit was ecstatic to finally be getting some friction, moans already being ripped from your throat. The ex archons dick was uncomfortably hard, outline clear as day from how hard it was straining against his slacks. Once you finally got yourself into a rhythm he let one of his hands fall from your hips, giving in and palming himself through the thick fabric.

You moans began increasing in volume and frequency as you got closer and closer to the edge. You gripped onto Zhongli’s broad shoulders, your body quickly becoming tired. The man in front of you noticed this, letting his hand return to your hip as he helped steady your rhythm once again. Tears were threatening to fall from how good you felt, everything starting to become light and fuzzy as you continued to get closer to your climax.

With a couple more rough thrust against his leg, the coil deep in your gut snapped, sending waves of please surging through your body. Your back arched hard before slumping into Zhongli’s chest. He kept your hips moving, letting your ride out your orgasm on his now soiled pants.

“My love, do you still want me to fill you up?” Zhongli’s voice brought you back to reality, where you realized how hard he was. The thought of Zhongli filling you to the brim reignited the fire that was just extinguished in you. You nodded reverently before rolling off his thigh and onto your back, presenting yourself to him. A low groan sounded from Zhongli’s throat as you spread your leg wide, the site of you littered with markings making his brain go fuzzy; his only focus now on making you both feel good. You’ve never seen Zhongli rip off his close at such a speed before, until he was stark naked and crawling on top of you; caging your head with his arms.

Once again Zhongli began to attack your neck, except not as rough, not wanting to cause more pain than pleasure. Without warning, he slammed his dick into you, since you had already worked yourself open for him. Despite this, your walls still clung tightly to him, his large cock dragging deliciously against your walls as he hit all the right places. Both of your were on cloud nine, as he ruthlessly pounded into your.

Normally when the two of you had sex, right before Zhongli came he would pull out and cum onto your stomach which he of course would clean up later. Not for any particular reason as to why since you were on birth control, it had just become a habit. This time however you wanted to do things a little different. You were getting close, and you could tell he was as well, as his breathing became more uneven and more low pitched noises started coming from him. Your walls fluttered around his cock, causing him to shutter and let out a low grunt. Before it was too late, you tightly wrapped your arms around the ex Archons next, and pulled him down closer so your lips were mere centimeters away from his ear.

“Cum in me Zhongli, stuff me with your cum. I want every drop of it please I wanna feel you inside me even after you pull out. Archons please please Zhongli let me feel you cum. Breed me.” Zhongli’s eyes widened, those words causing something to snap in him as he was hit with another wave of pleasure, his thrust still maintaining their power but becoming more erratic. You could feel Zhongli’s calloused fingers rubbing quickly against your clit, sending new waves of pleasure through you. The moans coming from the two of you were matched perfectly, as the two of you got closer and closer. With a couple of final thrusts, Zhongli sheathed himself in you as deep as he could go, cumming shooting deep into you. The feeling of his cum filling you up is what sent you over the edge, cumming for the second time; your mouth falling open to form a silent scream. You could feel Zhongli beginning to ooze out of you as he pulled out, which made you shiver.

“Let’s get you cleaned up shall we darling?” Zhongli was still a little out of breath as he stood from his position on top of you, holding his hand out to you. You grabbed a hold of him, before catching him off guard and pulling him back down.

“Let me stay full for a little while longer.” Sleep was slowly starting to take over, as your eyelids couldn’t stay open. Your words went straight to Zhongli’s dick, but that was an issue he would take care of himself. For right now, he just pulled you into his chest, allowing you to drift off into blissful slumber.

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tteokdoroki · 4 years ago

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awake with you | s.todoroki

♡ pairing: shoto todoroki x fem!reader.

♡ word count: 1.7K

♡ rating: everyone.

♡ genre: ua student!au, angst, comfort, fluff.

♡ summary: during the night, bad things happen but your boyfriend is always there to keep them away. by your side always, shoto todorki makes it his mission to fight your demons and make sure you know that you’re loved.

♡ warning(s): please read ! character death, mentions of car accidents, nightmares, guilt, lack of sleep, but a lot of fluff and the best boyfriend in the whole world :(

♡ author’s note(s): guys! it’s shoto’s birthday, so here i am postiing this shoto request from anon a while back, i hope you all enoy and have celebrating the beautiful boy’s bday <3

♡ masterlist | requests

it was hard for you to sleep.

harder, when shoto wasn’t around.

sometimes it was your thoughts that kept you up; late at night— dark thoughts that swirled around in your head and slowly poisoned your brain with heavy black venom. it was hard to sleep when your mind was heavy with fear, but ever since dating shoto todoroki; those nights became easier and sleep wasn’t so hard to come by.

you weren’t so sure what it was about your boyfriend that made it easier for you to get some shut eye; it’s not like he really knew either. todoroki just didn’t like seeing you in pain, the way your face twisted with discomfort or the way sleepy tears would wet your cheeks under the moonlight— but you had somewhat of an idea, that his fresh peppermint smell and warm arms are what often helped you.

shoto would so lovingly sneak into your room, no matter the time, dusk or dawn— he would hold you tight under the sheets until you drifted off to dream land. even if it meant being teased by the others for stumbling out of your room in the morning, his pretty hair a wild mess creating the image that’d you’d both been up to no good, he’d face it all for you, over and over again.

but tonight, your loving, caring and doting boyfriend was nowhere to be seen— everyone’s second internships had begun and todoroki had chosen to work with his father along with izuku and katsuki, so it was no doubt that they wouldn’t be home until late. what with endeavour being the number one and all.

your friends knew about your struggles to sleep, of course, todoroki bluntly mentioning how you ‘like to sleep together’ to soothe your nightmares ( iida had lectured you about it after, saying it was inappropriate while deku and ochako turned as red as your boyfriend’s hair ) so offered to stay up with you— but you needed rest, today’s training sessions having taken a toll on your body, and wave them off with a smile laced with tiredness.

you could call him, he wouldn’t mind and you know it— but he’s with his father and that takes enough out of him as it is.

you decide, instead, to trudge to the dual quirked boy’s bedroom, instantly calmed by his sweet peppermint scent embedded into every inch of his dorm. you swipe one of his clean sweaters straight from the closet before hitting the lights and snuggling into his bed.

tonight would be fine, todoroki would come home, wrap you in his arms and with the aid of his scent surrounding you— you would sleep safe and soundly.

is what you hoped as you drifted off to the land of dreams.

when you were younger, you watched your older brother, haru, get hit by a car.

the scene haunts you to this very day, crawling up on you while you rest at night— choking you out in your dreams. you see it now, feet glued to the ground as you’re forced to watch the younger version of you, mess with your older brother using your new found quirk. your parents had called it scenery, back then your powerful quirk had been their pride and joy, giving you the ability to create a mirage in a certain targets mind— make them see things that weren’t really there.

back then it was fun to play tricks on your sibling— you made haru see all of his worst nightmares, everything but the road.

everything but the oncoming car.

everything but his untimely death.

you want to scream at little you— tell her to stop and that it’s not funny anymore as she forces your brother back into the road— he’s giggling, he doesn’t know it yet and neither do you. but the words you want to say die down deep in your throat, suffocating you from the inside although they burn at your lungs to burst through.

why cant you speak? why cant you stop her?

adrenaline trickles into your blood stream as you will yourself to run out into the street and protect haru from the oncoming traffic just as he slips off of the sidewalk. your senses are blown out of the water, static noise filling your ears and intertwining with childish screams and the sound of a not so distant honking horn.

you claw harshly at your throat. speak. save him. for god’s sake; do something.

“you’ll kill him! stop! you’re going to kill him!”

the flickering of artificial, yellow light behind your closed eyes has you jolting awake, sweat forming at your brow and hands clenched tightly around your boyfriend’s plain bedsheets. your gaze darts across the room while your heart thumps loudly in your ribcage from the fear that struck you in your dream and finally, your stare settles on a shirtless, bewildered shoto todoroki. his face is a little scratched up no doubt from being on his father’s patrol and he looks exhausted but that doesn’t stop the concern he has for you taking over his expression. “yn—?”

“s-sho,” you hate how your voice caves so easily, the single syllable of your nickname for him falling wetly from chapped lips. todoroki is by your side in an instant, not caring that he’s only half dressed and half awake. he’ll deal with that later.

with tender hands shoto cups the back of your head, letting you sink into the warmth of his flesh. you reach out for your boyfriend and he’s there, taking your free hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze to help ground you. “love, what happened? why didn’t you call? you know i don’t mind—” his timbre voice fills your ears like warm honey, calming your rapid breathing but all you can do is shake your head.

“nightmare ‘n you were working,” you pant, cutting him off while the death grip on your lover’s hand begins increasing. you feel so far from the ground, the scene of haru’s death dancing across your mind. “i killed him, again—“

shoto watches your body twitch with fear and your usually glimmering eyes gloss over in away that makes him feel sick. you’re not here with him yet, still tangled up in the black string of your bad dreams. the world around the dual eyed boy begins to change and it seems you’ve activated your quirk by accident— showing him scenes of the day your brother died.

you screw your eyes shut as flashes of his body tangle with reality to the point where you don’t know what’s real and what’s not. you’re losing control of yourself so easily, fresh sets of tears stinging their way down your streaked cheeks. trapped. you feel trapped like a bird in a cage even while you’re awake and the sounds of cars and screaming burn at your ears once more.

make it stop, please.

“yn... come back to me love, i’m right here,” todoroki’s calm voice cuts through the suffocating song of death, dragging you back to reality while the effects of your quirk drift away. his fingers, although contrasting temperatures, now cup your cheeks to tilt your face towards him so that your eyes lock with his under the crescent moon. “you didn’t kill him. that wasn’t you. it wasn’t your fault.”

you blink away more tears like a helpless child, chest heaving but todoroki doesn’t give up. “but—“

“no.” your boyfriend says softly, yet sternly, leaning down to place an eskimo kiss to your nose. your eyes flutter shut at his simple gesture, although it raises saftey and warmth across your body— black radiates behind your closed eyelids, no longer plagued broken bones and blood. it’s easy to keep breathing from there, focusing on that as todoroki pulls you into his lap and the sheets fall away from your body.

“no,” you repeat back to him while shoto’s arms settle on your waist and his familiar scent of fresh peppermint fills your senses. “not my fault.”

it wasn’t your fault, that day the car had come speeding down a usually safe road in a residential area. the accident was a hit and run, but being a child made you feel every ounce of the blame. shaking the thought away you curl into your lover’s chest, listening for sounds of his heartbeat while he toys with a lose string on his sweater— the one you wear.

“that’s right, good girl...not your fault, here with me yet, love?”

when you glance up, todoroki is looking right back down at you— brows creased with worry but there’s love in his stare, overwhelming amounts that make you hum into his bare chest, grounded by the feeling of his skin against yours. “present and accounted for,” his chest rumbles with relieved laughter, soothing you even more. “thank you, sho. i’m sorry for making you do this so late at night.”

this time, shoto shakes his head— sending locks of red and white flying. “don’t thank me and don’t apologise,” his words are feather light in the dark while he manoeuvres you both onto his back to settle into bed. you’re about to mention that he’s still half in his suit, but your boyfriend doesn’t seem to care, already closing his eyes. “i’m yours, your boyfriend and i’m going to support you no matter what. i’ve got you, okay? you’re always here for me so i’ll do my best to do the same for you. what kind of man would i be if i wasn’t?”

“a very unmanly man,” you tease with a kitten like yawn, already feeling the confines of a more comfortable sleep, taking over.

todoroki rolls his eyes but pulls you closer to him anyways. “you’ve been spending too much time with kirishima.”

“at least i don’t spend everyday working with bakugou, now that’s true nightmare.” you counter, narrowly missing a pinch to the side from your boyfriend.

the pair of you sleep soundly that night, wrapped in each other’s arms. you feel safe, knowing that nothing could ever harm you, as long as you were with him. shoto todoroki would give anything for to you to have a goodnight’s rest. no matter what. even if it meant staying awake with you and being late to patrol with endeavour the next day.

not like he cared, he hated his dad anyway.

1K notes · View notes

tchallasbabymama · 4 years ago

Text

Instinct

Hello, fellow whores. You asked for it and I hope I delivered. I present to you: T’Challa in heat❤️‍🔥! This one had me blushing, y’all.

The next request I work on will either be sugar daddy silver fox T’Challa or Star-Lord T’Challa. I know I just threw the latter in the lineup, but apparently, people are seriously feeling the lack of Star-Lord T content here and I want to do what I can to help fill the void.

Check out my masterlist to read my other stories and oneshots, and, as always, comments and reblogs are my lifeblood! Enjoy😘

Word count: 4,903

CW: SMUT, infidelity

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Instinct [instiNG(k)t] noun: an innate, typically fixed pattern of behavior in animals in response to certain stimuli.

For centuries, the descendants of the great Bashenga retained their hold on the Wakandan throne. Challenge Day after Challenge Day, they beat their opponents and were rewarded by Bast allowing them to ingest the heart-shaped herb. The herb imbued them with a panther’s strength, speed, and instincts, effectively turning each of them from an ordinary man into the Black Panther. Now, strength and speed are pretty self-explanatory, but what exactly were their instincts?

When T’Challa was crowned king and ingested the heart-shaped herb, he visited the ancestral plane and reconnected with his baba. Their reunion was one full of tears, but most importantly, T’Chaka took the time to impart his wisdom to his son. T’Challa spent hours talking to his baba about life, what to expect as king, and, most importantly, what to expect as the Black Panther.

T’Chaka had warned him about what was to come, but until it happened to him months later, T’Challa was in denial. It couldn’t be that bad, right?

Wrong. When T’Challa woke up one sunny Wednesday morning, he felt strange. He felt feverish but not sick. Like most days, his morning wood stood at attention, tenting the crisp white sheets that laid across his lower half. He looked at the clock and saw that he had plenty of time to take care of himself, so he rolled to his side and reached for the tub of shea butter in his nightstand. T’Challa bit his lip as he rubbed his hands together to melt it down, but when he reached down to stroke his length, he nearly bit clean through it. He was much more sensitive than usual, and he wondered why...then it hit him. He jumped up and grabbed his kimoyo beads with his slippery hands, and he frantically opened his calendar.

“Twelve weeks,” T’Challa groaned as he counted backward to the night he became the Black Panther (the second time.) “Fuckkkk.”

He was in heat, and it was only going to get worse. T’Challa wracked his brain for ideas on what to do to fix his problem, but all he could hear was T’Chaka’s words echoing through his head.

“You should find a partner sooner rather than later. The instinct will take over you, and it will become unbearable if you do not have anyone to aid you.”

T’Challa had been so busy trying to rebuild the kingdom that his cousin damn near broke that he had forgotten to look for someone. Sure, there was Nakia, but she had moved to Oakland and their relationship quickly fizzled out. Then, there was that one Dora Milaje after he regained the throne, but that was a one-night thing and she went back to her wife the next morning. He needed to find someone, but who?

As the king’s mind wandered through his options, sweat beads began to form on his chiseled body. He knew he’d be no good today, so T’Challa typed up a message to his family and staff that he would be taking the day off. With that taken care of, all he needed to do was figure out how to get through this heat in one piece. T’Challa looked down at his dick again. It was swollen with need, and he watched as droplets of precum escaped from his tip. He couldn’t take it anymore and decided to bear through the sensitivity. Carefully, as though he might hurt himself, he reached his hand down and grabbed it in his hand. The whimper he let out was foreign to his ears, but it was all he could do when he felt the intense wave of arousal wash over him. He gritted his teeth as he began to slowly move his hand up and down his shaft. It seemed that everywhere his hand went, it left a deep burning sensation in its wake, but he just couldn’t stop. He rutted into his hand, and as soon as his thumb swiped over his reddened tip, he came undone quicker than he ever had before. His body jerked as the milky white substance spilled over his hand, and it seemed that he had plenty to give. However, instead of leaving him sated, all that did was arouse him more.

T’Challa had made a mess all over himself and decided to take a shower, but every touch of his hand, or even the water, drove him up the walls. He needed some pussy, fast. He exited the shower and allowed his body to air dry as he moisturized his mahogany skin. Minutes passed before he noticed that he was still massaging himself, too caught up in the sensation to notice the passage of time. His dick was rock hard again, and he groaned in frustration as he attempted to stuff it into silk lounge pants. He called for his breakfast to be brought to him and spent the day in his quarters, alternating between desperately jacking off and going through his contacts to find the right person. It had been so long since he had opened that figurative little black book that all of his usuals were taken, and unfortunately for him, they were hellbent on remaining faithful for some reason. As the day went on, his hunger grew in intensity, and it got to the point where neither his hand nor his sex toys could cut it anymore. He felt lost, he felt horny beyond belief, and he felt...famished.

T’Challa looked at the time again and realized that he hadn’t eaten in hours. He placed another order from the kitchen and waited impatiently for it to arrive. It wasn’t that he couldn’t wait for the food to be brought up; he was impatient because every moment that passed without him touching himself brought him more pain. He didn’t need the poor kitchen staff walking in on him feverishly pleasuring himself, so he just sat there and attempted to focus his mind elsewhere. Eventually, there was a knock at the door, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Room service,” a melodic voice called out, and T’Challa smiled to himself at his friend’s playful tone. It was Xoliswa. He hadn’t seen her in almost a week, and he was sure she was out of town, yet here she was bringing him his dinner. Xoliswa started working in the kitchen at the palace seven years ago, and they grew close over the years. He was even in her wedding.

T’Challa unlocked the door with his beads, and she came right on in with the cart full of more food than he usually ordered.

“Somebody’s hungry today,” she joked. Just as T’Challa was about to respond with some smartass remark, an aroma hit him square in the face. It definitely wasn’t coming from the heaping portions of doro wot and rum cake he ordered. It was sickly sweet and made the hairs on the back of his neck stand at attention, as well as something else.

The king began to salivate. “New perfume?”

“No, just the usual,” Xoliswa sighed. “Why?”

“No reason. You just smell different today is all,” he gulped to keep from drooling at her smooth, brown legs that were always on display. His eyes traveled up to the curve of her hips and the thickness of her waist before grazing over her delicious-looking chest and landing on her plump lips. Of course, he had noticed her looks before, and they would playfully banter and flirt back and forth from time to time, but this was the first time he was really seeing her beauty. Not only could he see it, but he could smell her from across the room, and his body was reacting in ways he couldn’t control. His dick sprung up and immediately started to harden as he watched her ass bounce in her flowy shorts when she pushed the cart out to the balcony. She had gone too far away, and he felt the intense need to be closer to her, so he bolted up and made his way outside with her.

“Here, let me help you.” T’Challa quickly picked up the heavy tray before she could and placed it on the table before taking his usual seat.

“I thought you didn’t feel good today,” she crossed her arms over her chest, unintentionally pushing her ample breasts even closer together. His body burned at the sight, and he visualized his lips wrapped around her undoubtedly perky nipples. He needed her body on his, but he knew he shouldn’t. Xoliswa was a friend, a confidant, a married woman...

“I don’t,” T’Challa cleared his throat and tried to focus his mind on anything but her. It wasn’t working, though. “But, uh, it’s not what you think. I just needed a day, that’s all.”

“Want to talk about it?” Xoliswa asked as she leaned against the balcony. He was acting strange, and it concerned her. “You know I’m here for you if you need me.”

“Don’t say that,” he chuckled darkly as something flared inside him.

“Why not?” she tilted her head to the side and uncrossed her arms. He would’ve sighed in relief, but she just made it worse by stepping closer to him. Xoliswa placed her hands on his shoulders the way she always did and began kneading his bare flesh. Little did he know, he wasn’t the only one fighting back their arousal. Xoliswa had a small crush on T’Challa since the moment she laid eyes on his muscular frame. Had she not been in a relationship the entire time she’d known him, she would’ve dropped down on her knees and given him the business by now. However, Xoliswa loved her husband and wouldn’t dream of doing such a thing...except for the occasional nights where she closes her eyes and all she can see is him. All she can feel is the king.

T’Challa let out a low groan as her hands worked out his stress, and as usual, the sound made Xoliswa flood the panties that had gotten wedged between her fat pussy lips. The scent of her arousal traveled straight to his nostrils, and his pupils blew wide. He jumped up and crossed the balcony in just a few quick strides, needing to get away from her before he truly lost himself to his lust.

“Seriously, what’s up with you today?!”

“N-nothing, you just...you smell so good, and- Xo, I can’t.”

“Can’t what?” Xoliswa narrowed her eyes as she tried to figure out what could possibly be wrong with him...but then her eyes fell to the large dickprint in his silk pants. She had seen him in those and similar pants several times before, and although they always left little to the imagination, she had never seen him in his full Bast-given glory. But this time? This time she could almost make out every vein through the soft fabric, which made her pussy spasm with need and release more wetness.

T’Challa could see that Xoliswa was staring right at his dick, and he knew she liked what she saw by the whiff of sweet honey that wafted his way. A low rumbling started in his chest like an engine revving as the burning need in his loins intensified.

Xoliswa spoke barely above a whisper, stunned but in awe of the man before her, “Why are you-”

“My heat,” he sighed.

“Your what?”

“My heat!” T’Challa snarled, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Any other time, he would assume he had scared her, but he knew better now. He could hear her heartbeat, he could smell her dripping pussy, and he could see her hardened nipples and the way her luscious thighs rubbed together in a feeble attempt to quell the throbbing between her legs.

“W-what’s that?”

T’Challa gestured for her to take a seat, and she lowered herself into the chair across from his, squirming in her pooled fluids. Her obedience just made him harder, if that was at all possible. He gingerly sat down across from her and just stared for a moment, her breathing getting shallower with each inhale.

“One of my newly acquired panther instincts requires me to, uh, mate every three months.”

“So...you basically ovulate four times a year,” Xoliswa joked in an attempt to break the tension, but he began to growl at her again, causing them both to shudder at the other’s arousal.

“It’s more than being a little horny and fertile, Xo. I have to- no, I need to find a release, or I’ll go crazy. My whole body is on fire, and masturbating just makes it worse. I’ve been in here all day-”

“You’ve been in here jacking off all day?”

“Yes.”

“And it’s not helping?”

“Not at all.”

“Have you tried-”

“Yes. Whatever it is, I’ve tried it. Trust me.”

Silence descended upon the pair as they both stared at each other, stuck in a lustful feedback loop, chests heaving and mouths watering. Xoliswa was the first to break, so she stood and headed for the door. She had to get out of there, the atmosphere was too thick, and she couldn’t think straight with him staring at her like a piece of meat. She couldn't stand to look at him any longer or she might do something she’d regret later, but when he grabbed her wrist and looked up at her with those pitch-black eyes, she knew she was in trouble.

“Xoliswa, please,” he begged. He knew he had no business asking that of her, but he was desperate, and she just looked so damn delicious.

She bit her lip as her eyes traveled back down to his bulge that had started leaking through the fabric of his pants.

“Shit…”

“You like what you see?” his voice was lower than she’d ever heard. It seemed like everything he did turned her on more and more. T’Challa took a deep inhale so he could know for sure, and his head swarmed with the smell of her. “Yeah, you like it. I can smell that sweet pussy; it’s dripping for me, Xo.”

He had never spoken to her like that before, and every word lured her further into his trap. She had a brief moment of clarity and pulled her wrist from his grasp, taking a step back.

“T-T’Challa, I’m married-”

“Tell your body that, then,” he grumbled as he stood and stalked closer to her. She backed up with every step he took until she was wedged between his body and the doorframe. His arms went up on either side of her, and he leaned in close enough for her to feel his breath tickle her lips. “Tell me right now: do you want me?”

Her eyes darted around, desperate to look at anything but the coal irises that would surely draw her in. “I-I-”

“Say it, Xo. I want you so fucking bad,” T’Challa growled with his face buried in her neck, imprinting her scent deep in his brain. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help but take a little bite. As soon as his teeth made contact with her skin, she let out a light moan and set his body into overdrive. He pressed his hips into her, and the heat of her skin made him whimper. The noise shocked her, and she realized just how much he needed her...as if the ten inches of clothed steel pressing into her stomach wasn’t enough of a sign.

Xoliswa had secretly wanted this for a long time. In her dreams, he’d fuck her good and deep and leave her a sobbing, leaking mess. Truthfully, if he had ever come onto her before this, she probably would have caved then, too, but she thought he was too gentlemanly to do so and pushed the dirty fantasy to the back of her mind. Boy, was she wrong. Right now, T’Challa couldn’t give a shit about chivalry and certainly didn’t care about her husband. Right now, all he wanted- no, all he needed was her body.

She pulled his curls to remove him from her neck, and he growled again at the titillating pain and the loss of contact.

“You want me?” she whispered, her lips mere centimeters from his.

“Mmm, more than anything.”

Xoliswa’s hand traveled down his body, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. T’Challa’s lip found its way between his teeth again as he struggled to maintain composure, but it all flew out the window when he felt her hand wrap around his throbbing length.

“Fuck! Xo, stop playing and-”

“You need me?” she teased as she pulled his pants down over his hips and let them pool at his feet. She wrapped both of her hands around his girth and stroked him softly. He was so sensitive that he jerked away from her hand, but she grabbed him and pulled him back in. Xoliswa had dreamed of this day, so why not make her dream come true?

Suddenly, T’Challa’s self-control went out of the window as he thrust into her hands and wrapped one of his much larger hands around her throat. She stared back at him with lust clouding her eyes as he met her lips for a hungry kiss. The taste of her on his tongue drove him wild, and she felt his dick begin to twitch. She picked up her pace and gripped him a little tighter, making him stick his tongue further down her throat. She melted into him. The firm grip he had on her made her knees weak, and just as they began to buckle, he pulled his lips from hers and said the three magic words he had uttered so many times in her dreams.

“On your knees.”

Xoliswa fell to the ground and looked up at him with her mouth opened wide for him to use. And use it, he did. T’Challa was surprised she could take all of him without any training, but he guessed her husband might have been around his size.

Her husband. He had a married woman on her knees, slobbering up and down his shaft. He had Xoliswa on her knees…

Just the thought of how wrong this was turned him on even more, and as if the same thought had occurred to her, Xoliswa started sucking harder. The spit foaming in the corners of her mouth and running down her chin soaked her chest, and the king longed to see more. He reached down and ripped her shirt down the middle, freeing her breasts from the confines of modern clothing. T’Challa grinned when he saw that not only was she not wearing a bra, but her nipples stood erect like two Hershey’s kisses ready for him to devour. Just the way he liked.

Xoliswa didn’t care that he had ruined her shirt; all she cared about was making her king cum. She wanted to taste him and swallow everything he had to give, so she grew impatient and turned it up a notch, fondling his balls in her hands as she sucked on him. Her tongue swirled around his tip, and he gripped her locs in his fist to hold her down on him as he exploded into her mouth. Splashes of him coated her throat, and she swallowed every last drop he gifted to her. She blinked up at him with those innocent-looking eyes as she sucked him like a straw, milking him for all he’s worth. Normally, he would get overstimulated at this point, but that seemed impossible. Xoliswa gave him the best head he’s had in a long time, but it still wasn’t enough to sate him.

T’Challa pulled her head off him, and the bridge of spit that connected them was a sight to see. He reached down and lifted her to her feet, kissing her once more to taste his saltiness on her tongue.

“You still...want...this pussy?” Xoliswa asked between kisses.

“Mmmmhmmm,” he grunted as he pushed up on her again.

Xoliswa pushed him away, and he looked at her like she had betrayed him. His face relaxed when he noticed the feral look in her eyes and the way her pheromones filled the air.

“Take what you need.”

T’Challa saw red, and the next thing he knew, he was buried deep inside her as he pounded her into the mattress. The arch in her back deepened as he fucked her rougher than her husband could have ever dreamed of. Xoliswa struggled to see as she reached for the sheets to hold onto, but he wouldn’t let her. T’Challa pinned her hands behind her back and continued to plow into her as she screamed.

“Fuck, yes! Just like that, baby! Ooooh, T’Challa-”

“You like that?”

“Yes!”

“Then take it. Fucking take it!” he roared as he released inside her, but neither was ready to stop. Xoliswa loved how his cum felt dripping out of her, making her pussy even wetter than it already was. Keeping it juicy for him to do whatever he needed to do to her body.

“This tight fucking pussy, Xo,” he groaned as he slowed down and grinded into her, stirring her insides. His heavy hand came down on her ass, and she let out the most adorable squeak. He smiled and did it again and again, her pussy tightening around him with every strike until she couldn’t take it anymore. Xoliswa’s body convulsed as she came all over the king’s dick.

“T’Challaaaa!” she wailed, and he stopped to massage her cheeks.

“Too much?”

She looked back at him and smiled mischievously with a glint in her eye. “No, my king.”

“I’m your king?” he teased while rubbing her clit, making her hips circle on his dick as he stood still and let her work.

“Yessss,” she whined.

“Then cum for your king one more time. I have another load for you,” he whispered in her ear with his teeth firmly gripping the lobe. His fingers tickled the underside of her clit, and she bucked her hips. “That’s your spot, huh?”

“Y-yes, my king!”

He alternated between circling her clit and strumming the underside for barely a few moments before her pussy began to grip him again. T’Challa leaned back and watched the way her pussy spasmed on him. He couldn’t hold out and exploded inside her once more.

“Mmmm, baby, I love when you do that.”

“You love when I cum in this pussy?”

“Mmmhm,” her voice grew higher in pitch the more she felt him twitch inside her.

“Good, because I’m not done with you yet.”

T’Challa pulled out slowly, and she moaned as his bulbous head dragged across her g-spot. He flipped her over with ease and slid right back into her slippery canal. She loved how full he made her feel, how he stretched her walls and beat the breaks off her pussy. But this? This felt so good.

His hips moved slowly as he stroked deep into her and gazed into her eyes.

“I just need one more, babygirl. One more, and I think I’ll be good, ok?”

“Whatever you need, my king,” Xoliswa whispered against his lips and pulled him into an open-mouthed kiss. She wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, and he chuckled darkly.

“You want me in there deep, don’t you?”

“As deep as you can go, baby.”

“You’re filthy. Does your husband know what a little slut you are?”

Xoliswa released all over him again.

“Oh, you like when I talk about him when I’m in these guts? You like being reminded of how naughty you are, don’t you?”

“Mhm,” Xoliswa nodded with tears threatening to fall from her eyes from how good it felt to have T’Challa inside her.

“Let me ask you something,” he leaned in close to her ear and thrust harder. “Does he fuck you like I do?”

Xoliswa frantically shook her head, “N-no!”

“Then you come to me whenever you need a taste of what a king can do for you.”

“Yes, baby!” she keened as he picked up the pace and dropped his weight on her.

“You know this pussy is mine, now, right? He can use it if you want him to, but this shit belongs to me. You’re fucking mine, Xoliswa.”

“T’Challa-”

“Mmmhm, say my name, babygirl. Tell them who owns this tight little pussy,” he punctuated those last three words with thrusts so deep she swore she could feel it in her ribs. “Who owns you?”

“T’Challaaaa!”

His eyes rolled back in his head at hearing his name fall from her lips. Her voice was shaky and hoarse, but she screamed his name over and over again as his hips pounded into hers, the curve of his dick angling just right to keep her creaming all over him.

“Fuck, baby, here it comes. You ready?”

Xoliswa looked him dead in the eye and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “Cum in your pussy, Black Panther.”

He hadn’t expected her to call him that, but it lit something within him, and he came harder than he ever had before. He bit into her neck as he spasmed inside her, pumping her full of his essence. She came from the feeling of him releasing so much and putting it right where it belonged. Their bodies fed off each other, and when one would spasm, it would trigger the other to cum. T’Challa peppered sweet kisses all over Xoliswa’s face and spoke to her in hushed tones, “Thank you, babygirl.”

Xoliswa couldn’t speak; she could only moan incoherently. Minutes passed before their bodies began to tire of the constant state of arousal, and they slowly pulled apart. She whimpered as she felt their fluids escape her and drip slowly down her crack, and he could only watch in awe. He had never produced so much, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of Xoliswa or his heat or a combination of both. Whatever it was, he wasn’t ready to give it up just yet.

“Call Abdul. Tell him you have to work tonight,” he rasped, making a devilish smile appear on her face. She knew she was in for the night of her life, and just the thought of what was to come had her playing with her overstimulated clit. He swatted her hand away and replaced it with his own. “Call him. Now. Make sure your camera is off.”

T’Challa kissed from her neck down to her chocolate nipples and took a bite, making her yip at the sensation. “Be quiet, or he’ll catch you. You don’t want that, do you?”

“N-no, my king,” she stuttered out as she pressed Abdul’s contact card and called him.

“What’s up? Aren’t you supposed to be working? Or are you slacking off with T’Challa again,” he joked, and Xoliswa locked eyes with a smug T’Challa as his tongue swirled around her nipple.

“N-no, I’m at work,” she struggled to speak as T’Challa trailed his tongue down her body and suctioned his lips around her clit. She snapped her legs shut around his head, making him pry them open with a menacing growl.

“What was that?” Abdul asked.

“What was what?” Xoliswa chuckled nervously.

“I thought I heard something. Anyways, what’s up, sweetie?”

“I, uh-” she stopped herself and muted the call for a moment to let out a moan from the pits of her soul as T’Challa showed no mercy on her. His tongue masterfully maneuvered around her clit like he designed it himself, and the three slender fingers curling inside her coaxed another orgasm out of her.

“Take him off mute right fucking now,” T’Challa ordered with a mouth full of pussy.

“Hello? Xo?”

She scrambled to unmute the call and calm her breathing down as the king nibbled on her labia and sped his fingers up inside her.

“I’m here, baby. I-have-to-work-late-so-I’m-staying-at-the-palace-tonight!”

“Wait, slow down. I can barely understand you. Are you ok?”

“I’m ok,” she giggled as T’Challa nibbled on her inner thighs. “I’m staying here tonight.”

“Oh, no problem. Don’t let T’Challa work you too hard, ok?”

“I won’t!” she squeaked.

“Good. You get back to work, and I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Tell him you love him,” T’Challa whispered against her pussy lips, and Xoliswa couldn’t help but oblige.

“Abdul?”

“Yeah, sweetie?”

“I-I love you.”

“I love you too, Xo. Call me when you get off,” he blew her a kiss through the phone, and she hung up right as T’Challa started chuckling.

“You almost got us caught!” she fussed.

“You liked it. Don’t lie.”

Xoliswa bit her lip to hide her smile, but it didn’t work.

“Maybe a little.”

“Mmmhm. Nasty slut, letting me use you like this. You ought to be ashamed of yourself.”

Xoliswa’s pussy jumped, and T’Challa couldn’t help but smile at her.

“Maybe you should teach me a lesson,” Xoliswa moaned as she ground her hips on his fingers, and his dick hardened right back up. “Or punish me.”

“Fuck, Xo, where have you been all my life?” he groaned and pulled his fingers from her, lining the head of his dick up with her entrance.

“Married...to my husband,” Xoliswa teased. T’Challa’s nostrils flared, and she knew it was on.

She wouldn’t be getting any sleep that night.

Taglist: @maddeningmayhem, @theblulife, @motheroffae, @love-mesome-me, @toni9, @bribrisback, @impremenior, @nahimjustfeelingit-writes, @dersha89

#cecewritessometimes #oneshot #smut #t'challa fic #t'challa x oc #black!oc #Youtube

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