A/N: This is my very first uh fanfic? ;-; like a full one. Plus I've been craving for Tougen Anki stuff so i decided to do my own🙏🏻 might be a slight ooc... Any advice and suggestions are welcome thank you!
There are rules to working under the Patrol Unit.
Follow orders.
File reports.
Stay alive.
Masumi Yodogawa embodies every rule better than anyone.
An Oni. Sharp, relentless, and infamously difficult to impress— he’s the unit’s youngest intelligence officer. A man who can dissect entire crime scenes without speaking a word…and make you feel stupid for missing even a single detail. His gaze alone can pin you into silence. His reports are flawless. His composure? Untouchable.
They say he doesn’t feel anything.. They’re wrong.
I learned that the moment he started looking at me differently.
I first noticed during debriefs.
Masumi was staring at my report longer than necessary—eyes scanning every line like the ink itself was suspicious. I braced for corrections. Red marks. A blunt remark about incompetence.
Instead, he set the file down neatly and looked at me with those soul-staring eyes.
“Not bad. You caught what others missed"
No praise. No criticism. Yet somehow, it felt like the first crack in his armor.
After that, he started… sharing.
Drafts placed beside my elbow, his tone calm and neutral
“What do you think about this?”
His pen would glide effortlessly as I spoke—never pausing, not even once.
Like he was terrified of letting emotion leave a trace.
One evening, curiosity pushed me further.
“You were gonna write something, What was it?”
His pen froze mid-stroke.
Silence tightened, heavy and deliberate, before he replied, voice lower than usual—
“This time… it’s not something I’d write down.”
He didn’t look away.
And for the first time, the silence between us felt personal.
I tried to remain calm.
"Okay."
Masumi noticed immediately.
“‘Okay’?”
“That’s your whole response?”
He leaned back, studying me like I was a puzzle he hated yet refused to stop solving.
“…"
"Yodogawa-san"
"What?"
"What didn’t you write?”
His answer was a quiet.
“What I thought of you."
I froze
“What you thought of me?”
“Don’t repeat it like a report detail.”
he muttered, a thin line of stubborn pride.
“You asked.”
Still not enough.
“Then tell me what you think of me, Masumi-san.”
I leaned forward on his desk.
“You’re testing protocol,”
he observed, eyes narrowing.
“Or this is personal.”
I didn’t blink.
“You’re not telling me anything.”
He exhaled, annoyed by how calm I stayed.
“You notice too much.”
My brows lifted
"You missed the log discrepancy, but noticed when I hesitated approving the new patrol routes.”
"That's what concerns me"
“I won't understand you if you don’t say anything.”
His restraint finally cracked.
“You’re not just some observer anymore.”
His voice low.
“And that doesn’t belong in any report.”
The tension shifted... dangerous, intimate.
“Then what am I, Masu-kun?”
His entire body froze at the nickname— like I’d found a place no one was allowed to touch.
“You’re sharp.
Capable.
You make me question myself.”
His jaw clenched.
“I should hate that.”
“…But I don’t.”
I moved slow, intentional, slipping behind his chair, hands settling on his shoulders. His muscles went rigid beneath my touch.
“Then tell me.”
My fingers guided his chin upward until those dark eyes locked into mine.
“Tell me.”
His voice came out unguarded, raw:
“I want you”
That was enough.
I kissed him.
For a moment he went still— then his hands shot up, gripping my wrists as he dragged me closer, the kiss turning sharp, messy, hungry.
When we finally broke apart, breathless, his forehead pressed to mine.
“This wasn’t in any report.”
His grip didn’t loosen.
“…This breaks protocol,”
he murmured,
voice rougher than I’d ever heard.
“And yet?”
“And yet…”
his breath ghosted my lips,
“I’m still here.”
He stood up closing every inch of distance
One gloved hand cupping my jaw, thumb resting just beneath my lower lip.
“If we keep going…”
“I won’t be able to pretend you’re only an asset anymore.”
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
(via bsky)
As someone who has not had to write a paper with citations in five thousand years (Amphi and Gory, College Diplomas in the Early Pleistocene, Tarradiddles 2015), I am learning a lot from all the horrified responses on bluesky.
Mostly that you can't take things on trust, with or without AI in the mix. You can't trust that your co-authors did all their citations correctly; if your name is on the paper you'd better make sure that the journal Taradiddles at least _has_ an article with matching authors and title. Even if it's in German and you can't read it.
...And if you go the extra mile and bribe someone in the German department to translate it for you, you might just find out that the article is about college diplomats in the Pleistocene era, and EVERYONE in your field has been quoting it wrong for YEARS, and you get to look very smart.
On the other hand, you might be outraged like the three bozos above (all professors in AI studies, surprise) at the very IDEA you might be punished because a co-author cited imaginary sources they got from ChatGPT. Why, you had nothing really to do with that paper! You only made them list you as a co-author to make yourself look good! Wait, did you say that out loud?
