YOU SHOULD LEARN HOW THIS GAME WORKS. no mercy - living tombstone
🗯️ ──── intp, morpheus cabin, sour candy enthusiast.
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YOU SHOULD LEARN HOW THIS GAME WORKS. no mercy - living tombstone
🗯️ ──── intp, morpheus cabin, sour candy enthusiast.
navigation. masterlist.
© lcckedcom / do not copy, repost, translate, steal or feed ai my works.
ROCKIN’ YOUR HOODIE !
﹙ 🍙 ﹚grown up!karma akabane x f!reader ⸝⸝ high school crush, friends to lovers and reunion
forewarning ─── reader is mentioned to have made suicidal attempts before. if you struggle with self harm or suicidal tendencies, please reach out to loved ones or call the local suicide hotline. (wrote this in a rush, so not my best work.) also i’m pretty sure i just wrote my first ever kiss scene, so bear with me. and possibly ooc karma??
disclaimer ─── this fanfic is for entertainment purposes only. the use of this text for ai model training, data mining, commercial purposes or any automated reproduction is strictly prohibited without my (the author's) explicit consent. translating or reposting to other platforms is also strictly forbidden without my permission.
They really renovated it all, huh?
The hill used to be steep, muddy when it rained and dusty when the sun shined too brightly for your liking. A path that led you to a classroom where every day was new, built from new emotions and leading to something you didn’t understand back then.
Your wooden desk was on the edge of new and used, creaking with age yet standing with purpose. Now it just looked like a fragment of better times. Times that you wished weren’t so fleeting, even if they felt long in the moment.
Instead of being a place of teaching and learning, Class 3-E was now a monument dedicated to Koro-sensei. “I really came late to the party,” you sighed. The hill was now half-way replaced with stone stairs, the windows more polished than ever.
A familiar tune sounded from your phone, guiding your hand to dig for it in the pockets of your black trousers. “They did mention you, you know. They miss you!” Ritsu was a constant presence in your phone during your exchange year, being both a beacon and a reminder of where your heart truly lies.
Taking a step back from your old desk, you faced the blackboard. “I miss them too, but I won’t be staying for long, so visiting them won’t be worth it,” Eyes swaying over the drawing of Koro-sensei, a stray memory awakened in you. Both fuzzy yet so clear of how much he helped you when no one else did. He was the reason you’re still alive.
“Ever the loner, are we?” The very essence of your annoyance in high school. Standing in a business suit in the doorway, Karma smiled. “Didn’t Koro-sensei give you an entire speech on how to appreciate what we have?”
“Akabane,” your tone didn’t betray how you felt upon his arrival. “And here I thought I would be spared from seeing your face.”
He stepped into the classroom, and you noticed how the floorboards didn’t creak anymore, as if replaced. “Aw, I thought you would miss me after everything.”
During your teenage years, home wasn’t a place for you, and neither was school. You wouldn’t call yourself rebellious, but simply longing for something that was far beyond your borders. Beyond life, beyond death. You never felt comfortable anywhere.
Karma was the type of person you couldn’t stand. He made his life seem effortlessly perfect. Good grades, high ambitions (mostly for killing) and carefree. You admired him at first. Then you became jealous.
Why did he get the life you wanted? Why didn’t others become so consumed by self-loathing as you did? It was selfish of you to think that you’re the only one in your class that struggled, but was it selfish if it was true?
Looking back, you were partially at fault for yourself. You didn’t do homework, you didn’t stay awake in class because the night before you would be standing by a bridge, contemplating every night is jumping was worth it or not.
The night you decided to take a step forward and sit on the railing, leaning forward, a hand made its way to grip your elbow. “What are you doing?”
Even with the flickering lamppost light, you could see his red hair. “What does it look like?” Eyes half-lidded, your head barely turned to face him. “Something stupid, that’s for sure.”
With a harsh tug you ripped your arm from his hold, bringing it closer to yourself. “What does it matter to you? You don’t know me enough to care,” That’s what you thought back then. If no one knows me, then they won’t miss me.
But people knew you. The neighbor’s cat you always fed when they weren’t home, the kindergarten you walked past every morning where kids waved at you with smiles, and your little sister that never understood why you were barely home.
“You really think just because I don’t know you means I don’t care?” He chuckled loosely, and something irked in you when he did. Without touching you, he stayed by your side as he joined you, sitting next to you to your left. “Let’s pretend I don’t then. Let’s pretend that when you jump, I will simply walk away and act as if it never happened. I’ll pretend not to know what happened when Koro-sensei asks how he could’ve failed a student, or when Bitch-sensei becomes sad over losing a talented English speaker in her class, or when Karasuma-sensei becomes disappointed in himself for not noticing the physical signs earlier.”
He spoke so clearly about it, head tilted so he could look at you while you couldn’t face him. “I’ll pretended not to care when I know deep down I could’ve done something. Would that make you feel better? Jumping and giving up when you’ve barely lived?”
“I’ve lived long enough,” you hated yourself for crying in every waking moment, especially in that one when a tear streamed down your face. “Have you? Have you truly done everything you’ve ever wanted? You can’t sit here and tell me you don’t have at least one dream, one goal to fulfill before you go.”
Your shoulders shook, sniffing as you wiped your face, embarrassed. He sighed, but not in the way you expected. You thought he would be disappointed, perhaps even annoyed. He wasn’t.
With the rustling of fabric, he brought a tissue to your face, fingers at your chin as he made you look at him. Automatically, your chin tilted down, making effort to hide yourself. And he didn’t force you to look up again until you calmed down.
He waited. He waited until your breathing calmed, until you stopped hiccuping and simply sat still. “I’m not going to pretend to understand what you’re going through, and I’m not going to play therapist either, but whatever you have going on will not stay. What you’re trying to do is find a permanent solution to temporary problems, which makes you stupid in my eyes.”
Leaning closer, he wiped your face with the tissue, sliding your hood down. “I think we both know Koro-sensei has a way to help you with whatever it is that’s making you want to jump. But in my eyes, nothing is worth taking your life for when you’ve barely lived it.”
“I hate you, you know,” He nodded, “I know, I could tell.” Your eyebrows furrowed, shaky hands gripping the railing. You were finally gripping onto something, even if you didn’t realize. “So why don’t you hate me?”
He smiled in the same way he usually did. Cocky and a whirlwind of foul play and sarcasm. “Because I don’t know you. I don’t think that this is you. There’s something brighter somewhere inside you, and only then do I think you and I will both find something to love and hate about you.”
“A shame I don’t love anything about you,” you mumbled, removing his hand stubbornly as you wiped your face on your own, blowing your nose. “We’ll see about that.”
From then on, he challenged you. He challenged you to keep going with words and actions, to find purpose even if it took months or years. He never stopped being there until you moved away for graduating.
An exchange year in Europe to study history and architecture. You got a new phone, met new people and finally became someone you liked when you looked in the mirror.
Architect was stable, it had a format and a plan to stick to, it was grounding. History was never finished. There was always something to find, something to learn.
Now, standing before him what a bag in hand you pocketed your phone, Ritsu disappearing from your screen with a teasing grin on her face. Damn her. “I wanted to give you your stuff back.”
He raised an eyebrow, watching as you held out the paper bag towards him. “I recently went through my old stuff from my mom’s house and found some of your clothes and more. Thought you would want it back.”
Old clothes from when he would break into your house, sliding your window open as he talked with you until you got tired enough to get sleep. Not enough, at the start, but some. Which was better than none.
Your mother was surprisingly calm about it when she found out, smiling and responding with “That’s how I got closer with your father.”
He partially moved in, occupying the couch for an hour before sneaking into your room, your face in his neck and his arm around your back. You hated that you needed him at your side to sleep.
Silence filled the air between you for a moment, your face blank before he burst out laughing. “The fuck are you laughing for?! I knew I shouldn’t have made the effort to give anything back to you, you—”
“Keep it,” You stopped, your arm dropping slightly. “I’m pretty sure whatever’s in there is going to fit you better than me, since you barely grew.” You didn’t hesitate to punch him in the stomach, making his lower back meet the nearest desk. “You asshole!”
He kept laughing despite the bruise you gave him, hand on his stomach as he wiped his tears with the other. “Good to know you’re as feisty as ever,” Your arms crossed over your chest, “How unfortunate for you, you haven’t changed at all, Akabane. I mean, bureaucracy, really? Out of all the career paths I thought you would take, that one is—”
He cut you off with one hand at your lower back, gentle with his touching as his lips met yours. He was warm, bold and unhesitant with his touch as the bag dropped from your own, shaking.
Your fingers went through his hair, pressing into his scalp as your chest met his as he pulled you closer, and you could feel him smirk against your lips. With a tug, you pulled his head back, smiling when his lips chased yours. “I still hate you, Karma.”
“First name basis again, look how far we’ve come.”
HOW DEEP IS YOUR LOVE ?
﹙ 💭 ﹚reno ichikawa x f!reader ⸝⸝ yearning, flirting and puppy love?? reno is a dedicated man 🤷♀️ (potentially ooc, not proofread)
forewarning ─── reader is lowkey cold bcs she has problems w showing emotions, and she's also a little in denial of someone actually falling for her. mentions towards the death of a family member. be warned, reckless and suicidal tendencies in the reader’s behavior. for the sake of the story, reader is described as athletic/built. btw im lowk inexperienced when writing yearning ;( also i was listening to “my way of life” by frank sinatra while writing this, highly recommend u do that too (honestly this is so old, i finished it months ago and just found it again, thinking of a part 2 tho)
disclaimer ─── this fanfic is for entertainment purposes only. the use of this text for ai model training, data mining, commercial purposes or any automated reproduction is strictly prohibited without my (the author's) explicit consent. translating or reposting to other platforms is also strictly forbidden without my permission.
You weren’t scared.
How could you be, when Kaijus have become a common sight for you? Not because you were a JAKDF officer, not yet, but because you learned to analyze and move instead of staying stuck with one problem.
Many people thought that ignoring a botheration would make it disappear. That the less you acknowledged it, the more it would cower into nothingness.
You learned very early on that it was never that easy. So, you trained. Because lying in wait wouldn’t bring back your sister from her grave. But neither would fighting, you knew.
The closer you got to death, the closer you got to her.
That’s why you threw yourself into battle, eyes focused front with your heart pounding in your chest.
The suit fit like a second skin, your finger resting on the trigger of the gun. It was an unfamiliar weight that you welcomed, even if this was just an exam and your acceptance into the force wasn’t confirmed. You would keep trying until you couldn’t.
Couldn’t stand, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t live.
Reno Ichikawa, on the other hand, was dumbfounded. He couldn’t understand your disregard for your own safety. That confusion sprouted from you jumping into the mouth of Kaiju after pushing him out of the way.
He stood to close, still nervous in the first moments of the exam, eyes darting left and right with hand shaking.
A shadow threw over his figure, the sunlight outlining a Yoju. Then, a push. A call. “Move!”
His back met the floor, and the last thing he saw was you, one of your feet slotted between the teeth and muscle of the creature as you pushed yourself forward.
Its mouth closed around you. A deafening silence surrounded the area, the smell of fresh blood and steel still occupying every corner you walked. All of a sudden, a voice. Muffled, but loud enough to be heard from inside the Yoju. Unleashed power: 40%
A ringing filled the quiet, organs flying like a wave. It rained purple, the iron smell of the flesh becoming clear and nauseating.
You stood, unbound and unaffected by what you had just done, weapon strapped to you and the thin pin of a grenade stuck between two of your fingers.
In that moment, he had believed you were born to fight. Born to protect. And so much further than him.
Your head turned to the side, eyes not betraying your appearance. Sharp and calculating. “Keep moving, Ichikawa. There’s no use for people who freeze.”
It was harsh, but true. He couldn’t afford to fail this and lose his opportunity.
When he found out you were accepted, something in him was proud.
It didn’t surprise him that you were, with the stunt that you pulled off and survived. But what he did notice was you pulling away.
Straying away from crowds, avoiding conversations and training alone. You were closed off, never entering the space of another and never letting someone do the same to you.
He took it as his chance to approach you.
Your chest heaved, sweat dripping down the side of your face as you stopped in your tracks, taking the moment to breathe.
Your palms settled on your knees, spine arched in as your sight began to blur. From exhaustion or the sweat dropping into your eyes, you couldn’t tell. You always pushed too far when your head was too loud.
“Here,” a shadow fell over you from your left, a water bottle entering your vision as you felt your throat dry.
Your hands clenched, eyebrows furrowing as you tilted your head up, (e/c) hues meeting a soft purple-lavender wrapped in sunlight. The boy you pushed, you remember. “No offense, but you look like you could use it.”
Pushing yourself to stand straight again you accepted the bottle, twisting the cap open and taking multiple gulps. He took the soundless space as his shot to speak. “I wanted to thank you for saving me back then.”
You only hummed in response, glancing at him as you drank. Wiping the dampness from your forehead you scanned him from head to toe, studying him. Awkward silence wove between you, your heavy breaths becoming a quieting sensation.
“Um,” he sweat-dropped, “I know it’s not my place to ask, but why do you never hang out with the other girls or generally anyone?”
You paused at his question. If I get close again, they’ll die, you wanted to say. I carry so much bad luck with me. But you couldn’t bring yourself to. “It’s not your place to ask.” Had you always been so mean?
Of course not. When Emiko was alive, you made sure to share whatever you had with her. A flower crown, your lunch, a camera. She tethered you to this world until fate decided you’ve become too dependent.
He gulped, nodding hastily. “Of course. I just think none of us are necessarily bad, if that’s what you’re scared of. I’m sure Kafka and and Kikoru wouldn’t mind if you joined us for dinner at a ramen shop tonight? Only if you want to though!”
Your eyes didn’t stray from his own, the water he offered now resting lazily in your hold, reminding you of the situation. He was trying. Out of all the other in-training-officers, he was the only one to attempt and become closer with you.
What if you hadn’t saved him? He would’ve failed the exam. He could’ve died. But you didn’t let that happen. Even if you hadn’t, would he still have approached you like he did now?
Emiko would’ve liked him.
“Fine,” you broke your thoughts with verbal response, screwing the drink shut and brushing past him. “But I don’t plan to stay for long.”
You didn’t linger long enough to hear his answer, continuing your jog.
Showering beforehand, you threw on casual clothes, baggy jeans and a shirt, before stepping out of your dorm, coming face-to-face with Kikoru Shinomiya.
Awkward silence followed. Again.
You were well aware of her heritage and skill, far above any trainee. By calculation, you’re certain she would leave her mark on the world. You didn’t bother to understand what you appeared like in the eyes of others, but you knew too you weren’t far behind her.
“You finally look normal for once,” you tilted your head at her words, pocketing your phone and wallet. “Normal?”
“Yeah,” she hummed, beginning to walk after you closed your door. “You always just look tense in that suit. If you weren’t as talented as you are, I would’ve told you straight up that it isn’t made for you.”
The rumors do her justice then. Bold and straightforward, confident in her skill, but even she sometimes pushes her limits too far.
“So, was that an insult or?” Your words trailed off, walking side by side with her. “Back-handed compliment.”
You recognized it. The layer of protection that she coated over herself like a silk cloak that bore her name, the refusal to let others see that she cares deeply. It felt like looking in a mirror.
Dinner felt loose with the three of them. Not the kind that had you hanging on for more, but the kind that had you realize the moment you’re in. Sitting bathed in the gentle orange hue of the ceiling lamps, laughter soft with the air light, yet full of conversations that seemed endless.
You found yourself smiling again, glancing down at your bowl of ramen with something akin to reminiscence. This is what authors wrote about when hearing friendship, the moment people thought about when meeting their friends, the memories elders look back at when storytelling.
There was a nudge at your right side, soft and reminding, but not with force. Reno’s eyes met your own before they fell onto your lips, “Are you alright?”
Your ears drowned out Kafka and Kikoru as they argued, may that have been about battle strategy or personal vendettas they had grown for another, your focus shifted.
It was a simple question, not intruding or trying to make sense of your emotion with knowledge. Simply asking. And your eyes softened. “Never better.”
From then on, Reno’s presence seemed to haunt your own, a quiet shadow that became light in your routines. You would encounter him in the halls, training area and outside the building. Though your meetings were always inevitable.
He never intruded, never came to close and never forced words out of you, he simply stayed in the silence you excused as acquaintance.
You learned his shape and he learned your silence. You read his body language, calculating his thoughts while he waited for your words, observing you. He became a constant.
You shared hollow pants in a room full of gear, you advising and guiding him to find his own fighting style. When you suggested he changed his bullets to a different material, a crystal blue of ice, he mocked you with a grin. “I thought there was no use for people who freeze.”
“Dangerous game you’re playing.” You retorted.
“Then stop losing.”
You stood up from where you sat on the floor, feet padding lightly as you made your way to stand and stop in front of him, your breath mixing with his. His eyes were still annoyingly beautiful, unwavering. “I don’t lose.”
He smiled, the corners of his mouth crinkling slightly, “I know.”
Someone take my phone from me.
can y’all stop tagging ur shit in the x reader tag when it’s an oc
love language: acts of service
breakfast in bed
brewing their coffee as soon as they hear them get up
building their expensive dream furniture from scratch
cooking meals
date planning
"don't even mention it."
fixing things around their place after they complain about it once
getting ahead on chores
hanging up decoration
holding doors open
holding their jacket up for them
"i'm going into town, do you need anything?"
planning holidays and vacations
scraping ice from their car before leaving
showing interest in their hobbies
snapping candids
waiting with dinner after a long day
[Prompt Calender: February 17th, National Random Acts of Kindness Day]
What did I just discover
Reblog if you do NOT want the new Tumblr update
Apparently, from what I hear people say, in the new Tumblr update, if someone reblogs your post and adds a comment of their own, that reblog is counted as a new post and it belongs to the reblogger. Not you. You, as the OP, do not get the notifications if someone else later reblogs from the person who reblogged your post with their own comment. You can’t see what comments people leave on the reblogs of the post you originally made unless they reblogged directly from you.
If this is actually true, it will just open doors for harassment. And also it takes the credits away from the OPs. Tumblr’s etiquette has always been “reblog don’t repost”. So this new update, if true, contradicts the whole core values of Tumblr as a community.
Respectfully, we don’t want this @staff @support @tumblr @changes please listen to your users.
I’d also like to clarify that this is what I hear from what a lot of people are saying, and it bothers me. But if I got anything wrong, I do apologize.
maekar’s daughter!reader who was raised with both books and swords and now refuses to marry a man that cannot disarm her (valarr’s daily motivation btw)
maekar’s daughter!reader who cut her long silver hair shorter to show support in egg’s decision (she’s the first diva to have a bob cut in her time fr)
YOUR HONOR IT’S THE SAME PICTURE
guys hear me out… varka x ratniki general/commander
(with a little angst yk)
hii, i love your karma works im so glad I stumbled onto your page!
idk if ur taking requests but what do you think about a karma with a really witty gf? yk like some people who are able to make comebacks like really quickly and is kind of similar to him in a way? however if you're not taking requests or don't wanna do this that's fine as well!!
I am taking requests currently! Tho, I cannot promise on how soon I can start working on it, since my exams have already started and I’m quite stressed. I will get to this tho💃
TORN BETWEEN TWO ROADS !
﹙ ⚔️ ﹚soshiro hoshina x f!reader x gen narumi ⸝⸝ love triangle bcs why choose one if u can have both, flirting and rejection?? (potentially ooc, not proofread)
forewarning ─── reader is a weaponry specialist and engineer (which i lack knowledge abt), and she's also a little dismissive abt soshiro's and gen's flirting attempts (basically rejection). for the sake of the story, reader is described as athletic/built. i'm also fresh out of a 4 month writer's block so tell me if this is shit or not
disclaimer ─── this fanfic is for entertainment purposes only. the use of this text for ai model training, data mining, commercial purposes or any automated reproduction is strictly prohibited without my (the author's) explicit consent. translating or reposting to other platforms is also strictly forbidden without my permission.
Eyes followed you the second you stepped into the building. And they would never stray.
When word spread around of a new weaponry specialist being recruited, there was little expectation. Many thought the production of armor may rise in Izumo Tech. But no one expected anything grand from someone like you.
A woman.
A woman in a male dominated field is what had others question you, doubt you. "What does your husband think of your job?" You remember being asked countless times. And to no matter whom, you'd give the same answer. "What husband?"
You never believed in needing a man to be content. And you were never wrong.
Many believed you got accepted into the company by sheer luck. A coincidence that was stumbled on and hired just so there would be no lack of workers.
What they called sheer luck was blood, sweat and tears turned into metal and electricity, the invention of weapons that brought a new era into anti-kaiju technology.
Multifaceted guns, blades forged of new steel, weapons that could connect to the subconscious of a person and be shot at will without pulling a trigger or pressing a button.
You became the beacon of essentialism in your field, the most important and main inventor in your company, a resistance of your own kind.
With new inventions came buyers, with buyers followed money, and with money followed fame.
Your creations became the main weaponry source for the Japan Anti-Kaiju Defene Force, strapped to combat suits (that you, sadly, still haven't gotten permission to experiment with). The thought always lingered in your head.
People carry my innovations for protection and elimination. If they fail, I fail.
You soon became a trending topic on social media, and that's what bothered you. There were those that cared about your designs and developments, and then those that wanted to get into your pants.
You could politely take a compliment and offer one back, but the constant sexualization made people overlook your potential.
You knew you shouldn't have let it gotten to you, but it was a pressure in your chest that you couldn't simply ignore. Words like that don't leave.
They bury a hole in you, become one with your flesh, and they leave a shadow.
Instances would occur where you would be summoned to a mission. Rarely, but not uncommon.
These situations you would use to your advantage to show off your newest mechanisms and gadgets, machines on display for the entire world to see through a screen, the damage you could do with simple resources and your brain.
You weren't muscular by any means, but objects of destruction required the strength and will to wield it.
Still, with your reputation came awards. And awards meant people to become associated with.
People like Hoshina Soshiro and Narumi Gen.
Your first encounter with them was in the midst of the battlefield, smoke in the air and rumble under your feet, the pure thrill and adrenaline of fighting for not just your life, but for the lives of others.
Those that relied on you and your weapons.
You were trying out new boots, though your gun had gotten lost along the way, your hands now bare with you technically left defenseless.
"Unleashed power 49%." That's enough, you decided.
A crocodile-like Honju endangered a river you couldn't bother to name, while you killed a couple Yoju on your way. Then it came into sight. The swishing swamp green tail of the beast, a clicking sound rising from its throat.
There was no time to waste.
You knew Captain Mina Ashiro was perched somewhere with a canon that was still charging up and loading, and you didn't have the patience for it.
Your eyes landed on the Captain of the first division and the Vice-Captain of the third division.
They stood nearby, officers alike surrounding the Kaiju in order to distract it and carve open a path for Captain Ashiro.
You huffed under your breath, coming to a stop next to Narumi. "Hey," you said, barely out of breath. "Your bayonet. Hand it over."
There was a pause before a tick mark appeared at his forehead, "The hell?" You didn't hesitate, deficient on tolerance. Before he could register it, you took the steel from him. This was the perfect opportunity for your testing.
With a few leaps over the grasses and stationed officers, you flew, the sun caught behind your back and the wind blowing your hair back, you landed on the water and didn't drown.
They worked.
You could feel them thrumming with energy under your soles, and again, sprang up into the air, effortlessly weaving into the air currents.
Maneuvering, your feet planted on the hilt of the weapon, eyes fixated on the crevice of soft skin between the head and back of the crocodile Honju. You couldn't reach its stomach, so this would do.
Pushing down with your soles, the weapon followed your command, slicing into the soft skin that had a shriek tear out of the throat of the creature. You had struck the core, and the monster sank.
More murmurs followed, more rumors too. You treaded across the water in a casual stride, making a beeline for the man you took the weapon from. "Here."
Again, there was a pause between the two of you, his eyes peeking out behind his bangs. And then—
"Marry me."
"Huh?"
Since that first encounter, Gen Narumi was set on marrying you. The fucking audacity.
And he wasn't the only one.
"You've caused quite the ruckus. Both online and in the corridors of JAKDF. You've become the talk of the world."
After the scene you pulled, Soshiro Hoshina had taken interest in you too. You couldn't blame them.
The Vice-Captain had paid you a visit (by the order of his Captain, he said) to take a personal look into your recent creations and keep the company updated on any future potential changes and plans. "The world will always talk."
"It certainly will."
It wasn't long after that you were contacted by them both even though you never gave them your phone number. Through someone in the force, you had to guess.
Narumi was the first to reach you in the middle of you forming a new blade, the grinding of the metal drowning out the ringing. Still, you had heard it, and you wished you didn't.
"I'm working."
"Aw, don't even have a second to spare for the Captain of the first division?"
Your eye twitched. "No. I don't."
You could see the grin on his lips with your sixth sense, momentarily stopping your work. "Even if it's about my bayonet?"
"What about it?"
"I broke it."
"You what."
Hoshina followed in suit, but unlike Narumi, he had respect for your time and simply opted to texting you instead of calling you.
81-xxx-xxx-xxxx
Hello my favorite weaponry specialist ;)
You left him on read. On purpose.
81-xxx-xxx-xxxx
How rude of you to leave me on read
And here I thought we were bonding : (
You
Hoshina, I'm the only weaponry specialist you know.
81-xxx-xxx-хxxx
So that makes you my favorite
You could only sigh from behind the screen, shutting off your phone and setting it down. Men are so disgusting.
Despite your constant rejections, they were stubborn, both pursuing and seeking out your attention at any given chance they got.
When you were on your break, they saw opportunity. Opportunity to text you, call you, annoy the living shit out of you and become the main source of your headaches.
Your gadgets were something you were strict with. Strict on who gets to touch them and test them out. It was a boundary, a line not many got to cross.
Narumi and Hoshina basically sped past the line.
"Don't breathe on that, it's expensive." You warned, not having to turn to see the purple haired man inching closer to a barely finished built gun model. He hummed at your words, instead choosing to lean over your shoulder and let his eyes sweep over your busy hands.
Then he rested his chin on your shoulder.
"Hoshina."
"Hm?"
"Be fucking glad I can't move my hands right now."
"l am."
Narumi, on the other hand, was scanning the blades hung on your walls. Some were broken, even. But you didn't see what the work called broken. You saw the ability to reuse and refine. So you stored everything, even the damaged.
"Those are decorative," he pointed out.
"Just because they're pretty doesn't mean they can't kill."
"I know. You're the perfect example of that."
"Get out. Both of you."
im returning with a new theme soon trust🙏🏻
what if I said I had a malevola x fem reader fanfic in my drafts…
Hi there!! I just wanted to say how much I really love how you write for karma!! It feels so true to his character even when you give reader different personalities. Your writing is so genuinely lovely, please continue to write!! 🥹🫶
To be honest I’ve been having such a bad day, and this made me so happy. Thank you so much, and I shall continue my work🫶🏻💗