#but like... everything that's around me makes me feel much stronger than i've ever been

[lastoneout]

I keep thinking about all of the disabled activists and people before me who stranded themselves on the 4th floor of buildings for weeks and crawled up stairs and fought with airline staff and schools and doctors and refused to stop existing in the face of injustice and bigotry no matter how big and scary and hopeless it seemed. Every time I get angry and scared the protests that lead to the creation of the ADA pop up again and remind me that disabled people are so much fucking stronger than anyone has ever given us credit for, and I can't help but be proud of that. And I know not all disabled people feel like we should take pride in our disabilities and have flags or whatever, but I think not just living, but thriving, in spite of a world that wants us dead and gone, in the face of both illness and persecution, and how we've not only bought ourselves forward, but uplifted the disabled people around us, secured more equal futures for everyone who will come after, and truly changed the way so many abled people have seen us for the better is something to be damn fucking proud of.

We have always been here and we always will be, there will never be a world without disabled people because being disabled is not bad, it's a natural part of the human experience and yeah it sucks some times but even when it sucks we have fought to build beautiful, unique, happy lives with people, both like us and not, and that should be celebrated.

The first sign of human civilization is the healed femur. The body of the profoundly disabled person who would have needed help to even just eat being carefully laid to rest after decades of a full, happy life. The medicinal plants showing even before we were entirely human we were doing what we could to not just survive, but alleviate suffering while we're at it. Above everything, evolution selected not the baby who can walk and eat and be quiet, but the one that can ask for help.

Disabled people are not just angry cockroach motherfuckers who refuse to die, we are proof of humanity's HUMANITY. Proof that natural selection selected a species that takes care of each other. From healed femurs and medicinal plants to vaccines and IVs and insulin to now, we are driven to help one another, we are at our strongest when we don't leave our most vulnerable behind. And I am living proof of that. My mother is living proof of that. Every disabled and chronically and/or mentally ill person I know is living proof of that.

And I don't know about the rest of you, but will carry that shred of humanity's true nature inside me like it's my fucking soul. I am scared and angry and hurt, but I have a lifetime's experience being scared and angry, and I can shake off the kind of pain that would make Atlas crumble to dust like it's nothing but a stiff fucking breeze. Disabled people have always been here, turning fear and anger and pain into joy and beauty and connection, and I'm not going to let everyone who came before me down. I'm not going to give up. Not now, not ever.

It's okay if you're disabled and you've hit your limit, you're too scared and tired and hurt, I won't blame you. But I won't abandon you, either. I might not be able to right all of the wrongs in the world, but I'll be strong, I'll carry all of you with me, I will not give up.

As I've said before, society hates a cripple who won't die, so we must spite them and live anyway.

Please, live anyway. I know if anyone can, it's us.

[sisyphus-hye]

Hyeju's Milk

A/N- Gender Neutral Hyeju Breastfeeding fic, so if you're not into that it would be good to skip this one. Plus rip LOOSSEMBLE :(

In the quiet of the early morning, Hyeju was sound asleep not having to worry about anything. The soft hum of the air conditioner was the only company she had in the apartment she shared with her group memebers. The sun peeking through her blinds. She immediately woke up in a shock, feeling something wet and strange under her shirt. Hyeju sat up and reached for the lamp near hear bed to get some more light, which revealed the unexpected: her shirt and bed were soaked with a mysterious liquid. Panic crept in as she realized it was milk, but she wasn't pregnant, nor had she ever been. She felt her breasts, they were full and firm. Her mind raced with questions she couldn't answer.

Her heart pounded as she picked up the phone to call her significant other, Y/N. Hyeju tried to keep her voice steady as she explained the situation to them, but the fear in her voice was discernible. Y/N was equally confused, if not even more than Hyeju. They told Hyeju not to worry, that he would be there soon. Hyeju couldn't sit still as she waited for Y/N, pacing the room and occasionally glancing down at her shirt. The smell of milk grew stronger, making her feel both uncomfortable and embarrassed.

When Y/N arrived, Hyeju met them at the door, visibly distressed. They took one look at her and immediately knew something was wrong. Without wasting a second, Y/N led Hyeju to the bathroom and helped her clean up, gently wiping the milk off her body with a warm, damp towel. The touch was comforting, but the reality of the situation remained overwhelming. They both sat on the edge of the tub, trying to figure out what could be happening.

"Are you sure you're not pregnant?" Y/N asked, their voice laced with concern as they sat next to her, holding her hand.

"I've had two periods since my last check-up," Hyeju replied, trying to convince herself more than anyone else. "It can't be that. Besides, wouldn't I have other symptoms?"

Y/N nodded, trying to reassure her. "Let's not jump to conclusions. We should see a doctor to make sure everything's okay."

"I called a doctor before you got here and they said… uh… that i need to express the milk manually," Hyeju said, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "They said it might relieve the pressure and it'll be better than it leaking onto my shirt all day."

Y/N nodded, trying to process the bizarre information. "Well, i can go to the store and get one of those devices that sucks out the breastmilk," they offered, hoping to ease the awkwardness.

"No that'll take to long traffic is terrible out there, I don't have that kind of time, plus i'm running out of towles" Hyeju said, glancing out the bathroom window at the bustling city outside. She thought for a couple a seconds and finally got an idea, but it was a bit embarrassing. "Do you mind helping me?" she asked with a shaky voice.

Y/N looked at her, surprised by the question but nodded reassuringly. "Of course, whatever you need I'll do my best to help."

With a deep breath, Hyeju unbuttoned her shirt, revealing her milky breasts, "Y/N you need to suck out the milk," she said, her voice shaking. Y/N's eyes widened, understanding the gravity of the situation. They had never been in a situation like this before, but the love they had for Hyeju overrode any discomfort they might have felt. They leaned in gently, placing their mouth around her nipple and began to suck. Hyeju's body tensed at first, but she soon felt the pressure in her breasts lessen. The sensation was strange for both of them, but Y/N focused on helping Hyeju through this weird ordeal.

The first spurt of milk took them both by surprise. Y/N didn't expect it to be so much, and Hyeju gasped as it left her body. They quickly found a rhythm, and Y/N swallowed the milk, doing their best to make Hyeju comfortable. Hyeju's breasts began to feel lighter, and she could feel the tension in her chest easing with every pull. Despite the strangeness of the situation, there was an undeniable intimacy in this act. The sound of Y/N sucking on Hyeju's breasts was the only noise filling the bathroom.

As the minutes ticked by, Hyeju felt a warmth spreading through her body, something she hadn't anticipated. She watched Y/N's cheeks hollow with each suck, and she couldn't help but find it oddly erotic. She closed her eyes, focusing on the sensation of his mouth, and she felt a flush spread across her cheeks. Her breathing grew heavier, and she let out a small moan that she hoped was inaudible.

Y/N noticed Hyeju's change in demeanor and paused for a moment, looking up at her. Hyeju's eyes remained closed, a soft smile playing on her lips. She was lost in the peculiar mix of relief and arousal that coursed through her veins. Y/N felt a jolt of desire, but quickly pushed it aside, reminding himself that this was about helping her, not satisfying their own needs. Y/N returned to their task, Y/N's mouth moving with more urgency now, their hands supporting her breasts, feeling them soften and empty as he worked.

"Y/N touch me please," Hyeju murmured, her voice thick with arousal. Her hands found their head, running her hands through Y/N'S hair. She couldn't help the way her body was responding, but she didn't want to stop them now. Y/N's eyes searched Hyeju's for consent, and finding it with Hyeju giving a slight nod, they resumed they assistance with renewed vigor. Y/N's hands snaked their way to Hyeju's panties, gently rubbing her clit through the fabric. Hyeju gasped as she felt a warmth spread from her chest to her core, her breathing quickening.

The sound of her moans grew louder as Y/N's fingers moved with more urgency. They slipped her panties aside and slid a finger inside her, feeling how wet she was. Hyeju leaned into the feeling, her hips rocking slightly against their hand. The pressure in her breasts lessened further as she grew closer to climax. The situation was surreal, but the sensations were very real.

Y/N could feel Hyeju's body tensing up, and they knew she was almost there. They increased their sucking and her moans grew louder, echoing off the tiles of the bathroom. Hyeju's grip tightened on Y/N's hair, her breath hitching as she came, the pleasure pulsing through her body like a wave. Y/N kept suckling her breast, ensuring every last drop of milk was removed. Hyeju's legs trembled as she rode out her orgasm, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

Finally, the flow of milk slowed to a trickle, and Hyeju's breathing evened out. She leaned back against the wall, panting, her body feeling both drained and satisfied. "Thank you," she whispered, her eyes finally meeting Y/N's. They looked at each other for a moment, the intimacy of what they had just shared hanging heavy in the air.

[lilac-witch]

Hi cute! how are you? I hope you're well! You could write about Az returning with Feyre from training and they are talking and Az is so unfocused that he doesn't notice that there is another person in the room besides the ic, so y/n screams and runs out to hug Az and they're over. falling to the ground haha ​​they are best friends who have feelings for each other. Y/n had been away on a mission and didn't know Feyre but she knew her from EVERYTHING Az had been telling her jandjsmcjsldk thanks baby

First request! Super sweet ask and a great idea :)

Gadzooks - Azriel x Reader

masterlist | part 2

Summary: After weeks away on a mission, Y/n returns to her family in the Night Court, with the addition of a new member. And thanks to Azriel, she feels like they've known each other forever. Meaning: "an exclamation of surprise or annoyance" Word Count: 658 Warnings: None.

------------

"A letter has arrived for you, m'lady."

Y/n's head drifted from the paperwork before her, to the Peregryn male situated at the door. She motioned for him to come forward, receiving the envelope swiftly.

Once the male had left, Y/n tore into the white paper.

Dear Y/n

So much has happened since you left for Dawn. Feyre is officially living in Velaris, and I've taken over her training regiment. Let's just say her technique could use some work.

She's great though, perfectly suited for Rhys. If only the stubborn bastard would finally confess to her that they're mates.

I miss you. Cassian is as annoying as ever, and Rhys is so busy fretting over Feyre, so there isn't anyone to really talk to.

I hope everything is going well in Dawn, and I can't wait to see you again.

Your loyal friend, Azriel.

Y/n smiled as she finished reading through the letter. Over the many weeks that she had spent in Dawn Court, Azriel had kept her up to date on all things Feyre-related. From their first meeting, to the trauma she'd endured, Y/n knew it all.

Perhaps it was time she returned home. It was coming up on three months since she'd left, and Thesan seemed to no longer require her services. Yes, it was time to return to Velaris.

-------------

"You did well today," Azriel said as he and Feyre strode through the halls of the House of Wind.

"I feel like I'm getting stronger. The regimes no longer hurt so much," she laughed.

"Well then, maybe they could do with an upgrade," Azriel stated, lips twitching upwards into a smirk.

"Don't you dare, Shadowsinger."

Azriel was about to open his mouth in retort, when a solid object collided with his body, propelling him towards the floor.

Azriel would have been concerned regarding his shadows' lack of vigilence, or even his own instincts having not kicked it, had it not been for the warm vanilla scent that filled his nose.

"Y/n..." he mutter, arms wrapping around her warm body. "When did you get back?"

"A little while ago," she muttered into his neck, hot breath hitting his skin in the most delectable way.

"I missed you," he whispered.

"I missed you too, Az."

The heartfelt moment didn't last long, courtesy of his brother.

"If you two lovebirds are done, I believe introductions are in order."

Azriel glared daggers into Cassian's skull, doing his damnedest to keep the blush that crept up his neck, at bay.

He helped Y/n up, hands lingering on her waist for a second longer than what just 'friends' would do.

Rhysand cleared his throat, stepping towards the female at his side.

"Feyre, meet Y/n, the last member of our inner circle, and my most trusted emissary. Y/n meet Feyre..."

"I've heard all about you," Y/n stated, mouth spread wide in a smile. "All good things of course."

Feyre's face grew warm, and her eyes met Azriel's.

"Is that so?"

Y/n nodded, taking a cautious step forward, before wrapping an arm around Feyre, guiding her towards the kitchen.

"Indeed it is, and what better way to get to know me than over a cup of tea. Has Azriel mentioned I make a mean cup of tea?"

"He has not," Feyre stated, raising an eyebrow in his direction.

"Hm, how rude," Y/n huffed, smiling at Azriel as the pair disappeared from sight.

He felt his stomach flutter at the sight of that beautiful smile. It had been too long since he'd last seen it.

"You know, you complain about me not confessing to Feyre, but I've had to watch you tiptoe around Y/n for over a century," Rhys drawled, a teasing smirk on his obnoxiously handsome face.

"No one asked you," Azriel grumbled, heading in the direction the two females had gone, in hopes of escaping more of his brother's playful jabs.

------------

And I'm back!

it feels so good to be able to write again, and to be able to bring your requests to life. A reminder that my inbox is open to all your dreams and wishes ;)

Until next time lovelies :)

[a-hazbin-reader]

I would like to see how Alastor's mother meets the reader (when they were alive). I see almost nothing of Alastor's mother and I feel that she is a wonderful mother ヾ(≧▽≦*)o

Alastor lovers would be NOTHING without this woman, she should be WORSHIPPED

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: None I think???

Description: ☝️⬆️

Alastor's mother was his entire world, all the love and affection in his life came from her

The way he learned to love he learned from her

So you have her to thank for that

Which is why you're so fucking nervous to meet her, if she doesn't like you then you feel like your relationship is doomed

Not that Alastor would leave you at the drop of a hat but you just couldn't make him choose, you love him too much for that

You're fretting over everything, your hair, your clothes, your perfume-

E V E R Y T H I N G

It's not until you feel a strong hand on your shoulder and look into Alastor's eyes that you realize you were panicking

He's smiling at you, he's always smiling, but you can tell you worried him

"Sorry...it's just...I'm nervous..."

You're being pulled into his warm embrace before you can say anything more, familiar fingers pushing your chin up

You feel a pleasant shudder go through you as you meet Alastor's eyes, soaking up the affection that radiates from them

"Now now, a little dinner has you this worked up~?"

"What if she doesn't like me?"

He's leaning in closer, never breaking your gaze as his lips brush against your own, his canines glinting almost like fangs-

"Why wouldn't she like you? If I love you then she'll surely love you too..."

God, this woman raised such a good man

If Alastor was being honest with you, he's a bit nervous too but not in a bad way

He's excited for his two favorite people to meet, he's excited to show off each of you to the other so that you both understand his love for you two

He's just so ecstatic that this is finally happening

Coos and soothes you the entire walk to his mother's house, knowing that you're nervous but understanding that you have no reason to be

Alastor lets himself in and you're immediately welcomed with the scent of delicious food cooking

You can hear his mother in the kitchen, the table not yet fully set

Alastor leaves your side to hug his mother in greeting, laughing a little when he startles the old woman

She's beautiful even though she's no longer a young woman, you see a lot of her in her son

"Mother, I'd like you to meet my darling Y/N~"

Alastor's arm wraps around you in an attempt to calm your nerves and to present you proudly to his mother

When her kind eyes land on you, all sense of anxiety and fear melts away as she pulls you in for a hug

She's stronger than she looks, squeezing you as though you two have known each other for years

You realize that she hugs just like Alastor and melt into her arms as you hug her back

"It's so good to finally meet you..! I've been asking Alastor to bring you over ever since he first mentioned he was seeing someone!"

Now Alastor is blushing and mumbling something about her promising she wouldn't bring that up

You can't help but laugh and pat his cheek softly, it's adorable when he's embarrassed

Together the three of you finish up dinner, his mother sending him out of the kitchen to set the table

Leaving the two of you alone

It starts off smoothly, the two of you making polite conversation before falling into comfortable silence

And then it's uncomfortable

Oh shit you're nervous again

She stands next to you as the two of you work together to finish cooking, a soft smile on her face

"My son really loves you, my dear..."

Her voice is still soft, still warm, but there's a warning tone to it

Alastor did say his mother could be the sweetest woman or the scariest woman you've ever met

"I hope that love isn't misplaced."

Oh. Of course.

She's looking out for her son, like any good mother would do

You're careful with your next words, reaching out and taking the other woman's hand gently

You make sure to look into her eyes, wanting to convey your truth

"Ma'am, you son will have my heart and my soul in life and in death. I love him more than words can convey.."

And that's all it takes, the woman pulling you in for another hug and clutching you in relief

This woman is relieved that her son found someone who genuinely loves him and will continue to love him when she's gone

And if you love her son as she does then she has no choice but to love you as well

Things are easy going between you two after that, Alastor's mother loving you a little more with each thing she learns about you

She watches the two of you interact and gains a better understanding of the relationship

She understands why her son fell for you, you're more than just a pretty face that lured him in

You actually remind her a little bit of herself in her younger days

Mother, please don't say that

The two of you actually get along rather well, ganging up on Alastor several times throughout the night

"I'm only saying! The best way to enjoy tea is-"

"Alastor, honey, Y/N and I just told you that you're wrong."

"Why don't you let the two people who know what they're talking about carry the conversation, hm~?"

"I think it's about time we leave, don't you two agree?"

NO

Not Alastor's mother taking your hand and looking at her son with a shocked expression

"You would take away my darling Y/N? What cruel boy you've turned into!"

Oh she's good

Alastor pretends to be annoyed at the sight of you two clinging to each other and whining about not wanting to be separated

Before that fake annoyance melts away into fondness and he's joining in on the hug

Alastor takes care of cleaning up dinner, leaving the two of you alone again

Which means Alastor's mother gets to show you photos of Alastor when he was younger

And tell you all the embarrassing stories

You two are so busy giggling and cooing at the photos that you don't notice Alastor standing in the doorway, face flushed red with embarrassment

"Time to go, my dear!"

She sends you home with plenty of leftovers and fusses over you like you're one of her own

"Do you need a jacket, dear? A hat? I might have an extra one around here-"

Gives you the biggest hug and kiss on the forehead before you leave, telling you to visit her often

Oh just one more hug before you go

Before Alastor can pull away from his own hug, she pulls him back to whisper to him

"You picked a good one, my darling boy...~"

You three are a family after that, no matter what anyone says, no matter what happens

She loves you just as much as she loves her boy and she'll brag about you just as much as he does

Carries a photo of you two around in her purse so she can show everybody

Literally loves having you around and is worried that other men will try to take you for themselves

You don't have a ring on that finger

Not yet anyways

Alastor's mother just has to convince him that he wants to get married

Which probably won't be hard

This is like the only photo of Alastor's mother I can find and I don't even know if it's canon or not-

She's gorgeous??

This one wasn't originally what I was working on but it was too good to pass up

[weministertomonsters]

Imagine This #21 - Werewolf

Your gentle werewolf boyfriend is afraid of hurting you. He treats you like glass when you make love, always stopping to ask "Is this okay?" and ruining the mood. He won't let you have his knot, which is the worst part in your opinion.

You've been planning how you're going to convince him you can handle it. This night, you execute your plan sneakily. Your request to be on top sounds harmless enough since you both know that he's way stronger than you are.

He loves the idea, if his leaking cock is any indication. He flops on his back and you straddle him, grinding lazily on him without putting him in.

"You're such a tease," he purrs, tongue lolling out of his mouth.

You smirk and move to the next phase.

"Can I tie you up? Just your wrists," you say innocently, holding up a pair of handcuffs.

He squints, licks his teeth, and glances over your body, considering.

"I just want to be careful," you pout. "You know your claws are sharp. You might hurt me."

That gets him, he falls for it as easily as you thought he would. You cuff his arms above his head and tug to make sure he won't be able to move them, smiling sweetly.

"Fuck, please," he squirms, already regretting letting you restrain him because now he's entirely at your mercy.

"Yeah," you coo, circling your wet pussy over his throbbing dick. "Now you know how it feels."

"What are you talking about?" He pants. "When have I ever-"

You take his cock in your hand and rub your thumb over the base of it, where the sensitive flesh quickly starts to swell into a knot from the stimulation.

He chokes and whines, his hips thrusting needily into your hand.

"You always deny me this," you tell him.

He looks a little guilty and plenty frustrated.

"Love, I've already told you, it's too much. It'll rip you in half."

"We haven't even tried yet. I'm not made of paper you know."

He whimpers, precum oozing all over your fingers. "I want it just as much as you do. It takes everything I have in me not to shove in you and fuck you the way I want, to knot you so my cum stays where it belongs."

"Just let me try," you beg. "Just this once. If it doesn't work out then we can do it your way."

"Fine," he grumbles, rolling his eyes heavenward. "God have mercy on your stubborn ass-"

He howls as you press his dripping head against your pussy and take it slowly. The handcuffs rattle as he tries to reach for your hips but they hold firm. The realization that he can't touch you has him whining and bucking helplessly.

You have to pull away twice before he finally settles, whimpering apologies and promising not to move. You work yourself open on his cock, savoring his stifled grunts and growls as he forces himself not to move. His eyes widen when you finally sink all the way and his knot locks inside you. It makes you cum almost instantly, trembling and calling his name.

He curses so beautifully for you as you tighten impossibly around his knot and he climaxes as well, filling you up. You know how much he cums, and now it's all inside you, stuffing you impossibly full. You lean back on your shaky arms and open your thighs so he has a good view of his knot locked inside your pussy.

"Told you I could do it," you grin.

[backwzzds]

ೃ⁀➷ choose me, trafalgar law

it was the hundredth morning that the heart pirates were woken up before their time. the sound of glass being thrown on the ship alerted everyone, but mostly bepo, causing him to be the first one to wake.

"what the hell is all this noise?" the furry pirate grumbled, taking a full stop to your shared room with the captain.

"you're not being fair!" your voice is muffled from the other side of the door. "you never choose me!"

"i always choose you!" the captain's voice is loud as ever. bepo could actually hear some offense cloud his tone as well. "i do all this shit for you!"

tears ran down your face as your hand shook against it. "but you d-dont! i've been with you—longer than anyone else here has. I've had your back through thick and thin. time and time again you choose the crew over me—your wife!"

law’s voice is harsh as the next few words leave his lips. "so you're gonna make me choose?"

"i would never make you choose! these men are your family and i get that—they are just as much mine as they are yours-but you don't understand law that no one has had your back, not like i fucking did. that time where you fought with the entire crew over something you were clearly wrong about? i chose you. every single time whether you're right or wrong—i fucking choose you, as any wife would! you never choose me!"

law scoffed with a shake of his head, trying to dodge everything that just came out your mouth.

"i always fucking choose you. you have no idea how much i choose you. I'd kill anyone over you. you know that."

"that is not enough law, why don't you understand that?!" you scream. "you choose being a pirate over being a husband sometimes and i would never tell you to stop pursuing your dreams. i know you've wanted this since kids," your voice cracks. "but you choose the sea over me every time i beg you not to do something and you still do it. i fight with you over and over and you just think that sex will be enough to get rid of this empty feeling inside."

bepo could hear your sobs from the other side of the door. he could tell whatever you two were fighting about was very important. from what he gathered though, he could see both sides of the story.

law was a pirate captain; it was his dream to rule the sea.

understandable.

but he was also a husband first; committed to you, he's been clearly neglecting you the past few months and it was only natural that you became restless and needy for your man.

also understandable.

there were times that bepo did not agree with his captain and best friend often. he was brave enough to tell law when he was flat out wrong about things, and that wasn’t very often. but now he wasn't sure who was in the right or wrong this time. not when law had his mind set on completing a specific goal.

but, at the end of the day, captain's orders were still captain's orders. the heart pirates were obligated to follow their captain to death if the time asked for it. he could see both sides of the story limitlessly, but ethically, had to side with his captain no matter what. it wasn't his business to intervene either.

you and law continue going back and forth, but over time your comebacks slow down as you're practically choking on your tears. at the sight of your reddened brown face, law walked over to you and wrapped his large tattooed hand around your neck, grabbing your attention.

"look at me," his voice is low and demanding. but you didn't want to look at him right now. you wanted to look at anything but him. your sniffles don't stop him from repeating himself though as his grip on your neck grows a little stronger, tight enough not to hurt you of course, but just enough to where you got a little buzz in your head, just way he knew you liked it. "look at me."

finally, your beautiful eyes slowly moved upward to look at him. they couldn't help but glare (although it still came out as a pout), and law visibly frowned when he saw just how upset you were over this. your sniffles get lower as you fight the urge to wipe away your tears, but he beats you to it, swiping the D of his tatted thumb across your hot face.

"i will divide the seas for you, if need be,” law told you, voice strong and calm. you could tell he was out of breath from how worked up he was getting a minute ago. with a much lower octave, he leans in closer to your face, hazel gold eyes never leaving your own. "i’d fucking rip the flag off my own fleet and burn this sub on land with everyone in it over you," more tears run from your eyes in response to his words. but law continues to wipe them away for you, always catching your tears. “i will bring hell to this fucking place we call earth if that’s what you asked of me. everything i do as this ship's captain is for you. i would fucking give up being a pirate if that's what you wanted me to do. tell me. tell me what it is you want to me to do y/n because sailing these seas aren't worth shit if you hate me and if it's in another lifetime where you aren't my wife. tell me what you want me to do. not as your captain but as your fucking husband. that what you want, right baby? tell me what you want."

and that was when your lip quivered and your words cried out to the seas, "i want you to choose me!"

[bakugoushotwife]

𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖑 𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉 // 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖊: 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖋 𝖈𝖚𝖗𝖘𝖊𝖘

a/n: here is the finale to part one!! thanks to everyone being patient with me to get this part out, i've been going thru it lately but we got her done. i haven't proofread everything but will as it goes live, just kinda wanted to put it up. this shit gets dark so proceed at your own risk. cw: gore, blood, murder, major character death, infanticide, smut, cowgirl, pregnancy journey, serious graphic descriptions, etc. dead dove do not eat. series masterlist jjk masterlist part two

he grips your forearms, pink lips parted in disbelief. his touch is gentle, eyes gleaming with emotions yet unnamed. “again. say it once more.” he whispers, seemingly searching for the physical signs already as his eyes dance around your stomach. 

“i’m pregnant, the healer confirmed it–our heir. he or she is coming!” you laugh in astonishment, a gentle warmth blushing across your cheeks. he pulls you against his broad chest within the next second, a myriad of thoughts occurring in his brain all at once. his wife–his queen, was with child. he was no longer the man he was cursed to be. he was loved by you, and would soon become a father to a loving baby of his own creation. a monster he may be, but solitude had lost its grasp on him, and he would never feel guilt for his monstrous ways now. not with a family to protect. a family. ryomen sukuna—head of a family. 

you nuzzle your face against his neck, and his heart physically aches with the emotion he stores in it for you. surely this is something much stronger than love. no one could ever feel as strongly as he does. he sighs softly. comfortably, and sets you back on your feet with a soft chuckle that rumbles inside both of your chests. 

“what wonderful news—outstanding news, my love…you have made me the happiest man...what a gift..” he says in a voice nearly foreign to you with its overwhelming gentleness. it conflicts with the look in his eyes. it’s hard to describe—the love and adoration he’s always held is there, with something else lying beneath. a certain icy cruelty that you know he’s capable of—a primal protectiveness. yes, gone were the days of leaving you in the throne room or bed chambers by yourself to be waited on by uraume and the rest of the staff. no, no. he would be attached to you like a second soul, as if you weren’t growing one already. 

he just couldn’t bear to risk it. especially as the building plans commenced and more strangers would be around his wife than ever before. his nerves were…heightened so to speak. you didn’t want to call it paranoia, as you can understand exactly where his concerns come from. he’s never cared for anyone. not even a fucking little bit, and now he has an entire universe of feelings stored inside of one person—seperate from himself. it’s terrifying. it’s vulnerable in ways he hates to admit, for any one of his enemies that knows of your existence knows exactly how to break him apart. all the sorcerers he’s wronged, all of the families of those he has personally extinguished—they all have a way to enact revenge. they all have a clear path to ripping his heart out of his chest, and it’s a fate worse than death. even the thought of you falling into enemy hands is enough for sukuna to erect gates with enchantments and veils, laying traps of his own mind’s invention all around the palace grounds to ensure your home remains a free territory for you and his baby. 

his baby. his son or daughter growing fruitfully within you. only three people know of the baby’s existence—you, him, and uraume. and this is how the list would stay until it is simply unavoidable. he will cater to your every need himself; and no one else should enter within ten feet of you unless they want to lose their heads. he makes this much clear, announcing the decree to his castle staff. of course they’re curious as to why they can no longer serve their queen–but any questions they have die on their tongues with the feral tone of commands from their king. 

you think it’s all a bit much, but you wouldn’t say anything against his wishes. this is what helps him rest peacefully at night, what makes him believe you are totally and wholly safe. besides it’s more relaxing this way. the only hustle and bustle is about the additions to your home, no servants nagging you about the certain tinctures and powders you should be taking to support your baby through the pregnancy; nor them cooing about how dominant and healthy king sukuna’s offspring would be. no. it’s just the two of you and the moment. the first few months were rocky—much more negative than positive with your symptoms and struggles. your husband was a rock amidst the nausea-inducing waters. he may not be inspirational or motivational in his words, and he may not know simply from instinct alone how to comfort you; but do not mistake that for neglect. he is ever curious, and attentive. he can tell when you need something…he just needs you to help him along as to what for the first few weeks into this beautiful journey. 

he’s quick to provide you a trash receptacle or to rush after you as you run into the bathroom to puke. he’s the one holding a cool rag to the back of your neck and keeping your hair out of the way, the sound of your seemingly endless retching tugging at his heart. he learns that the term “morning sickness” is really a lie—you’re sick at all hours of the day. he nearly feels guilty over your suffering, keeping you hydrated on water and coconut milk for extra nutrients. you aren’t keeping much food down, but he tries to make sure you’re offered plenty of it. going into the second month of your weak exhaustion and pathetic puking, he’s growing more than concerned. 

“i’m calling the doctors, my queen is suffering far too much.” he announces, using a rag to dab the sweat off your forehead as the toilet receives yet another round of your stomach’s contents. another hand fashions your hair into some sort of ponytail, and the other two stabilize your hips. you shake your head, leaning back to sit on your haunches as you wipe your mouth. 

“it’s perfectly normal. i’ll enter the second trimester soon, hopefully it will stop then.” you say, chipper. he finds it confusing how you can clearly feel so bad but pretend otherwise. your child isn’t even showing in you yet, you only look as if you’ve had a large dinner. and while you’re ridiculously adorable in this slightly swollen state, he’s left mystified by how such a small babe can disrupt everything about your body. your appetite increases and wanes depending on the day, you cry over a fallen bird's nest and then threaten to light him aflame. it’s a lot for him to wrap his head around, as someone who’s never really been well versed in emotions to begin with. but he is patient above all else—and that’s just fine with you. he’s there for every mood swing, he lets you beat on his chest and yell at him–he lets you crawl into his lap and hold yourself close, to giggle and kiss all over his face only to whisper how horny you are. 

at least that much is the same. if anything, it’s increased. and while sukuna has never been a delicate man, nor a submissive one—he is a somewhat changed man. his wife–only for his wife. he can tame the desire to absolutely fuck you apart for the sake of your growing child—he doesn’t know what exactly your body can handle at this time, despite what he may crave. but…you know what you can handle, don’t you? he…can allow you to use his body in this way too. it’s the least he can do, really. he knows he’s not the most caring man in the universe. frankly, he’s spent many a time thinking you deserve someone much more loving and doting than he. but you bask in the love that does flow from him, and your body is being used to grow his offspring. so yes, he clears the throne room of contractors and servants and architects making last minute adjustments, adding rooms fit for children to thrive in and his family to gather in; all because his precious wife made an appearance demanding his attention. yes, he lets you position yourself against his lap and rut against him at your own pace, grinding on his thigh while you beg for his hands to toy with your tits. 

“please–i need more, my king~” you pout, pawing at his wrists, dragging them up to your chest.he finds you enchantingly adorable, and this neediness is such a good look on you. not being able to throttle you nearly makes his bones ache, but he uses his lower set of hands to guide your hips over his defined thigh–his top set of hands giving into his sweet wife’s desires. 

and he always knows exactly how to touch you. he kneads at your breasts, the sore fat of your tits melting into his hands so perfectly you hiss and let your head fall back, rolling across your shoulders at just the simple enjoyment of his fingers tweak at your swollen nipples. he loves how sensitive you’ve become, how your brows pinch together and your cheeks darken the closer you get to soaking your panties. he knows you’ll plunge yourself on his cock over and over again–letting him coat your insides with the seed that’s already taken root in your gorgeous little womb. 

“of course. my naughty little queen can’t sleep without her husband’s cock pressing into her?” he coos, the words so taunting but so loving at the same time. you howl with excitement, ripping his pants down after several seconds of effort, your animalistic growls of need so pleasing to his ears and ego. you take as much of his cock inside as you can, thighs tightening at the effort. 

“mm–nuh uh, can’t help it–just need you all the time!! ‘s your fault–you did this to me!” you pout, bottom lip swollen from the amount of times your teeth have dug into it. your belly, just barely bloated with the sign of pregnancy, just glistens in the candlelight of his throne room, everything about you was calling out to him—as always. he doesn’t know why the sensation still surprises him every now and again. so he helps you, hands on your waist to help lift you up and down along the shaft of him, watching your face contort and ease with bone-deep pleasure. “oh, yessss~” 

your hands scramble to hold something, his wrists, his chest–anything with purchase as your orgasm shakes through your entire body. he only uses your tight walls for a few more lengthy strokes, erupting thick white ropes that paint your insides in the best way–the way that makes your legs tremble and buckle, so spent from your attempts at riding him that you’re leaning into his chest and closing your eyes to sleep. this has been your routine for about three weeks now, not that he minds. 

but the second trimester…oh how golden. this was the first time that sukuna really understood the beauty of pregnancy. with all of the nights of puking and bad sleep and weird cravings and mood swings and the list goes on—he was wondering what exactly was the big glow with babymaking aside from your sex drive and the overall concept that you get a baby out of it. but now, as your bump develops and grows everyday, as your energy evens out somewhat and all you want to do is nest and decorate for the baby—he gets it. uraume brings bigger robes so you may dress comfortably, and sukuna passes along your every demand to the builders. the baby’s nursery is being painted by hand, the crib by the finest carpenters that japan has to offer. sukuna wouldn’t be sukuna of course unless he threatened to kill every worker on the project if they spilled the news of what they were working on to a single soul. 

the fields outside the palace have become your favorite place to be. you enjoy laying in the sun, plucking the wildflowers that grow on the hillside and weaving them into a flower crown, and watching the animals sprint around in the treeline below. sukuna would watch from the castle some days, letting you bask in nature under his careful oversight. some days he joins you, listening to you prattle about the birds that like the sugar water you lay out. the peace that you bring to his life is something astounding. he never would have imagined himself enjoying listening to someone so bubbly and optimistic. you have always been a light he had never known existed, and he sees you as a literal angel. the way the summer skies cast a glow down on you—glowing up your hair and skin and highlighting that beautifully round bump. 

this day, he sits outside with you–watching you lean back, robes unbound to drink in some more sun. he’s proud that he’s able to make it such a safe place for you–your happy place. you can hear him approach, a joyful grin spreading across your face as you look over at him. 

“the baby knows you’re here~” you coo, supporting the underside of your rounded bump. the king lays beside you, a smirk on his face at the greeting. “say hello to your spawn.” you add, snickering. and dutifully so, he leans in and places his hand on your stomach. the broad paw spans most of the stretched skin, life and wonder sparkling in his ruby red eyes as he feels it, the repeated soft flutters against his palm make his heart skip a beat. his son or daughter is so active, and very strong. and they seemingly feel him, like you claimed. they like his voice and his touch, his gentle brush of his hand inspiring another tirade of kicks that send you giggling. 

it just makes things that much more real for him. his child is on the way, halfway grown already. he can’t wait to meet them, to see if they resemble you or himself more closely, to have a mini-him to take under his wing and entrust his philosophy to. he can’t wait to watch you be a mother either. just what his limited imagination can conjure up warms the coldness in his chest. the idea of you swirling around a sweet nursery with the baby smiling with gums and lips, cheeks rosy from being so loved. 

“hello, little baby of mine.” sukuna hums, leaning down to kiss below your navel. 

you smile sweetly, eyes crinkled in the corners. “we need to think of names!” you hum, running your fingers through his hair. it soothes you to have him so near, your protector and greatest advocate. he hums at the feeling, resting his chin on your breastplate, right before the swell of your stomach. those eyes melt you every time, especially when they look at you with such fondness. 

“their name will come to us when we look upon their face. no need to rush.” he hums softly, rubbing your stomach absentmindedly. he hadn’t even realized he was doing it. 

“i suppose so, but i would like to call them something aside from the baby.” you hum, twisting the pale pink strands around your fingers, wondering if your child would get this uniquely colored hair. 

“then let’s call them ayame, for now.” he decides, the corners of his lips twitching upwards in a smile. the word has so much significance in love and beauty, and he knows it’s the right one to bestow upon his unborn. 

“you’re so sweet, i love it. ayame–for now.” you hum once more–nodding your agreement, resting your hand atop his own. before long, the sun begins to set and the king ushers you inside for dinner—relieved your appetite returned. 

everyday after that was just as beautiful. you worked tirelessly daily to craft ayame’s clothes, knitting in neutrals to ensure the pieces would suit either gender of child. your excitement grows with your stomach, and so does sukuna’s protectiveness. you hardly use the bathroom by yourself. your pregnancy is now common knowledge amongst the castle staff–widespread across your kingdom. so naturally, sukuna is even more scrutinous of anyone coming in and out. the construction is nearly complete, but enemies could be lurking anywhere. and no one is more aware of that than your husband. 

he’s more than relieved whenever the construction reaches its final days as you’re about to pop. he still hovers, don’t misunderstand, but he can take a breath. any day now, you’d go into labor and the heian era’s new prince or princess would make their grand entrance. the nursery was fully prepared and the doctors and midwives had arrived as the construction workers were leaving, everything was in place. 

imagine his surprise when he’s thrown out of sleep in the middle of the night—one of his veils have been breached. moments later, uraume rushes into the room. 

“my king–the perimeter guards caught someone…they had weapons. ordered to kill the queen.” they pant, out of breath from hustling here so quickly. and with that one sentence, his every worst fear is confirmed. people are after you—they want to kill you. kill his baby and his wife in one fell swoop. 

he sees red. 

he looks over at you–sleeping deeply beside him. he can’t disrupt your rest, not when the baby will be coming so soon..so he leans over to kiss your lips softly before following uraume to the throne room to torture the infiltrator that thought they could get away with such a thing. 

he doesn’t think he’s ever been this bloodthirsty before, either. love like this makes you do crazy things–feel crazy things. the perpetrator is being held on his knees, head forced forward to look at the floor. 

“my servants tell me that we’ve caught a roach. let’s hear it.” he spits, intent on torturing this cretin slowly—send a message to everyone else that tries to come after his family. that if you attack—you will be dismembered and scattered across the continents with the breeze. 

“or maybe you just caught the fall guy, and you didn’t stop anything at all.” the man smirks boldly at the king, a shuffle upstairs catching his attention. 

you wake up when the last traces of your husband’s warmth has dissipated. you blink awake, feeling around in his spot to confirm his absence. huffing, you roll to your back, seeing his shadow shuffle around the room. “my love? are you having trouble sleeping tonight?” he’s been known to periodically wake up and patrol the place to make sure that nothing’s slipped past his other defenses. 

“notcha love—you can’t bring that demon to life, whore.” 

and those are the last words you ever hear. 

there’s a slash across your gut, deep. you can hear your blood splatter on the ground—similar to what you had always imagined your water breaking to sound like. you don’t even feel the pain, really. just the fear. just the realization—that you’re too late, that all sukuna had done was for nothing. you’re dying. you’re going to die today–here. alone, and scared, the slash that comes next nearly decapitates you, and you can’t use your technique. you never even got out of bed, only your legs had touched the floor. you hadn’t even been able to stand before they slaughtered you. 

the baby…the baby is gone just as grotesquely as you are–pulled from the gash in your midsection to fight these grown men on their own. ayame was a girl. and she was suffocated before her eyes ever opened, blood strewn about the room. 

the two murderers flee before sukuna makes it to the top floor, able to cascade a rope out of the window and sneak right out, now that all of the security is distracted.  

seconds later, he throws the door open. he nearly sprints forward to check on you–your form visible on the bed. but as he gets closer, he slips. his feet slide on something wet, warm—and he knows. he knows he’s lost the only person that ever mattered. his heart pounds faster as the staff rush in with the candles–revealing the gruesome scene. 

he sobs. it’s a foreign feeling, crying. he had only felt this once before—when he knew he was going to be a father. that was certainly more pleasant than…this. you’re gone. his light–his eternal sunshine…slaughtered like cattle on his bed. you’re gutted, the scent of iron finally hitting his senses. had he been in shock before? is that why he didn’t immediately notice? your head is barely attached to your neck—eyes wide open with horror, mouth hung open to scream. there’s so much blood. dripping out of your mouth, gushing over your chest and out of your abdomen–soaking your pretty lavender nightgown. he reaches for you, emotions heightened to levels left undocumented. that’s when he sees—his eyes focusing on the lifeless lump that was his baby daughter. he reaches for her too–little ayame. he cradles his girls to his body, absolutely wailing. his body spikes in temperature—cursed technique going haywire. he’s inconsolable. his cursed energy is spiking to heights unknown, body shifting—growing larger–rage flowing like a new source of energy all on it’s own. his soul is shattering, twisting and knotting up in his body–heart aching like never before. it was one mistake—he left for two seconds, to let you sleep and now you are gone forever. his baby is dead—his wife…he’ll never speak to you again. never feel your hands on his skin or the warmth of your kiss. he can’t go on like this—no. he has no desire to live. 

the love of his life, his first born child—ripped away from him in an instant. all the peace and happiness and joy you showed him existed has turned into the deepest and darkest personal hell he has ever known. he looks around him—even more blood than ever before. his technique—it killed everyone. he can’t find it in himself to consider it again, too focused on the mangled mess they made of his queen. he will avenge you—he will murder everyone in his path until someone can put him out of this misery. until then–he will take every other soul out of this world. if he can’t be happy–if he doesn’t get to live this life in peace–then no one else will either. 

the entire castle is consumed with the raw force of his cursed energy, shattered in an instant. as if he was a natural disaster in and of himself. perhaps maybe know he is…for he is no longer a man. ryomen sukuna never was quite just a man–the king of the heian era. but now, he is the king of something else. of all things bad and evil—of all the things that can help him enact revenge. the king of curses.

tags: @neon-crow @skypperlegacy @gis4greenandgreenisgre4t  @alastors-radio  @alltimenogoaway-blog  @tragedyofabrokensoul @gojosukuna2268  @hannas16  @alwaysfreakingout @thepurpleempath @pelicanpizza  @aenishas @satsuk-jjk @catobsessedlady @gucci-basura @eiaaasamantha @asukahiriko @t4naiis @thejujvtsupost @mymelx @maskedpacific @berranurates @enchantingartisanwitch @celena-alanze

[yanderestarangel]

Could you do something smutty with fujin? 😭 I’ve only ever seen 1 story of him on here and it is KILLING ME🙏

✶ F U J I N ✶

TW: afab reader, v!sex, soft sex, smut, praise, no pronouns used other than "you"

You really wondered how many hours had passed there, in Fujin's temple of heaven - the strong winds and the sight of clouds and blue sky filled your eyes, on the bed suspended under the ceiling with golden chains decorated by flowers... Your flowers favorites, it was already the second orgasm you had, you smelled of sweat, roses and the salty musk of the platinum man's seed.

He always did everything to make you happy, even with his brother's protests... The god of winds had really fallen in love with you. The two are lying on a blanket, their bodies intertwined in a gentle dance of love. His hands freely roam your body, caressing and exploring every curve and contour.

He enters you from the side, his cock sliding effortlessly into your tight pussy. Your moans fill the air as he thrusts slowly and rhythmically, savoring the feeling of being inside you again, it had been so long since you enjoyed intimacy together - his cock filled you like no other, you could feel every bubble of pleasure in your mind, as you felt his skin heat up and get wet against yours.

"-You don't need to worry about anything, just enjoy, let me take care of you as you deserve..." Fujin moaned against your skin, you could feel every inch going in and out of your cunt, while his skillful and careful fingers - they went against your clit, massaging it lightly with each slow thrust of his hips.

"-You're mine." He whispers in your ear, his voice husky and gentle. "-Always have been, always will be." His hands caressed your curves and traced delicate lines along your back. His lips trail kisses down your neck and collarbone, leaving a trail of desire in his wake—He can feel your body responding to him, your grip around his cock getting more intense. It was a feeling that drove him crazy, making him lose control momentarily.

"-You're going to make me cum so quickly... You really are a beautiful little thing, aren't you? A beautiful little thing, you're the most beautiful creature I've seen in my entire life darling... Mmm-" he grunted, his fingers came against your breasts, while his pulsing shaft beat slowly between your legs, making you moan and beg him not to stop - and he obviously wasn't going to, your pleasure was his priority - The god of wind accelerated the pace, stiffer thrusts that echoed throughout the natural setting, while you felt the air become even stronger, shaking the sheets and refreshing your mind.

"-When this is all over, I'll take care of you, when everyone is gone, I'll still have you, I don't care what Raiden says or the old gods" Fujin sighs before increasing his pace, grabbing your hips and pounding increasingly hungry. "-I'll still have you dear, and I'll do everything to just keep you and adore you, as you deserve." Fujin lightly bit your shoulder, leaving a soft red mark, as he emptied himself inside you with a few more thrusts, moaning hoarsely how much he loved you, intertwining his hands with yours - the result of seeing you trembling and crying with pleasure, made it all worth it. Too bad for him, even abandoning his powers one day and living with you forever, he loved you, and no immortality was capable of supplying that.

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

[thewalkingthread]

"I've been thinking" - D.D.

pairing: daryl dixon x f!reader

summary: After witnessing how good Daryl takes care of Judith and RJ, you think it's about time y'all have one of your own.

warning: fluff

a/n: I love soft Daryl.

You and Daryl had been through more than your fair share of hardships, having faced the trials of the apocalypse together. Your bond had only grown stronger over the years, and now, after the war in Commonwealth settled, you and your community found a place to call home. Despite the chaos of the world outside, you had finally had a semblance of peace and security among friends, new and old. Hell- you guys even had a dog now.

It was sunny today, Judith and RJ ran around on the street with some of the other kids. They screamed and hollered as they played tag, a heart melting smile spread across their faces. Just kids being kids.

You and Daryl sat on the front porch of your house with Dog. Daryl's crossbow rested against the wall as he sharpened the points of his arrows. You watched the kids, you had a smile that mirrored their contagious ones.

"You okay?" Daryl asked, his voice soft, he glanced at you briefly before he continued to work on his arrows.

You nod your head, your eyes still fixated on the kids. "I've been thinking,"

"That can't be good," Daryl scoffed, teasingly. You roll your eyes, reaching over and bumping his shoulder with your fist. "Bout wha?" He asks.

You shrug your shoulders, glancing down at the glass of water in your hands. "The future." You said simply.

Daryl looked up, curiosity evident in his stormy blue eyes. "The future, huh? What's on your mind?" He placed the arrow on the table, giving you his undivided attention.

"Well," You began, a faint blush coloring their cheeks, "I've been thinking about this for a while, but it never seemed like the right time. I mean these past few years have been so... crazy." You wince.

"But now, everything feels right. We're safe. Here, in commonwealth. The kids are safe here, we've got something good going. Something real." You hated saying it, knowing you felt the exact same way with the prison, with Alexandria. I don't think anywhere in this world would ever be safe, but here felt like it.

"We've been dealt some shitty cards. With Rick and Michonne gone, we've basically been given all their responsibility. I know we have to lead these people. I know we have to keep Jude and RJ safe. But I can't help but notice how great you are with Judith and RJ. You're a natural, Daryl. We take care of them like they're our own and-" Your voice trails off, losing the confidence to finish.

"Spit it out, woman." He grunts, staring into your eyes knowingly.

"I want to expand our family... Have one of our own?" You raise an eyebrow, "I wouldn't mind a little Dixon running around."

Daryl paused, his hands grasping yours. He looked at you with the softest eyes, his heart swelling with love and tenderness. "You serious?"

You nodded, your eyes never leaving his. "Yeah, Daryl. I am. I think we're ready. I mean you're obviously going to be one hell of a dad."

Daryl's rough exterior couldn't hide the softness that your words had brought out in him. He scooted closer to you, holding both of your hands tightly in his. "You really think that?"

You smiled, your love for Daryl shining in your eyes. You've been with Daryl from the beginning. Him and Merle found you alone in a convenient store the day everything went to shit. After months of pining over each other you finally bit the bullet at the prison and made it official. Though the two of you been through hell the past 10 years you're here, together.

"Absolutely. I've seen the way you protect and care for those kids, the way you take care of me. It makes my heart ache with how much I love you. We're building something here. I want to start a family with you."

Daryl leaned in, capturing your lips with a tender kiss. It felt just like it did the first time all those years ago. "I love you too, Y/N. Let's do it. We'll make it work, no matter what. Us against the world. The way it's always been."

His arms wrapped around your body and pulled your close to him.

"Are you two okay?" Judith's voice caused the two of you to pull away from each other. Her eyebrow was raised suspiciously at you two. You and Daryl both burst into a fit of chuckles.

"How would you feel helping Auntie Y/N out with a baby?" Daryl's voice was scuffed. Judith's eyes just about popped out as she jumped into y'alls lap.

"Yes, yes, yes!" She cheered. "About time!" She laughed. Dog barked, oblivious to what was happening but happy to see everyone happy.

You and Daryl exchanged amused glances. Deep down inside you both knew you'd be okay. Whatever happened next, you'd handle it together.

[toastykaykes]

Paint it Black (Prologue)

Hello! This is the beginning of a series for me! Series rating will be M (18+). There will be mention of torture, mention of SA, abuse, fighting, alcohol, sex, and probably more that I'll warn before the chapter.

Pair: Logan Howlett x Mutant!Reader.

Please give me feedback so I can become better! But anyway guys, here's the Prologue!! Teehee Enjoy

Word count: 1116

-----------------------------------------------------

CLANG 

CLANG CLANG

.

.

“Get up.”

You peek through your eyes, feeling as if you are the earth gazing upon humanities evils. There’s so much crust and filth embedded in your skin, it’s essentially consuming you. You just want to sink and hide beneath it. Away from all of this. Away from this pain. 

You look past this facade and see the same place you’ve been encased in for…how long now? You’ve lost track of time, between the hell they put you through and the salvation you call your mind when everything goes black.

Grime and grease, blood and bodily fluids litter the concrete floor of your cell. No bed, no toilet, just chains they use to confine you. To use you. 

“I SAID GET THE FUCK UP! WHAT YOU CAN’T EVEN HEAR ANYMORE?” The man yells, the increase of volume and proximity making your earthbound soul shake. He pounds the cell wall, this fist probably getting scuffed trying to make himself look like a monster. 

A monster.

You shift your head, (e/c) eyes finding the same guard as always who comes to collect you. His face naturally hosts a snarl of a smirk, as do most of the people at this place. Oh how you just wish to clean the earth of them all. People like them, all they do is hurt and consume others. You manage to contort your muscles in your face to paint on some form of a twisted smile. If it even could be called that. It’s more so of a snarl, but depends on who’s looking. To him, he takes it as a smile, throwing one back as he enters the stall. 

“I knew that would catch your attention honey,” He draws out while his hand jerks out to grab your head, smacking it against the wall behind you, “ya know you’ve lasted way longer than another mutant down here. Poor Wanda couldn’t handle it anymore…tsk. What a shame, right.” 

As you take in his words, your heart feels like it stops. There’s no way she’s..gone. She was so strong, way stronger than me. We both promised to get out of here together, to finally free ourselves of this filth. To make sure no other children and women would ever go through this pain. 

Something that is all you feel right now, throbbing throughout your body. If your body had anything left in it, you would feel the tears slip past the threshold, becoming one with the dirt on your face. You let your eyes fall, shutting out the feeling his hands go lower to your neck ready to start. The cold steel of the needle just barely pierces your skin. 

His chapped fucking lips scorch your ear, “You’re all just filthy demons. You act like you're all powerful when really all you are is weak. Disgusting and impure. Can’t even fight back, I bet you like what we do to you huh? You filthy whore.”

Fight back? All I’ve been doing is fighting back. Day after day, fighting the urge to just let myself die. To end this hellish loop I've been stuck in. But I never did, because of Wanda….

You fall inside your mind, where you're standing surrounded by your shadows. Your safe place. It’s here where you can truly react to what just happened. Wanda is gone. The only person who made you feel an ounce of sanity. Gone. Your knees give out as you gasp, feeling the air leave your body. You feel the shadows around you, swirling between your fingertips and through your anger. You gaze up, tears cascading down your cheeks to see the door. That goddamn red door. 

You begin to smile. Wanda wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. 

I’ll show them who the real monster is. 

And you let your shadows paint the door Black. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Miss (l/n)?” 

You look up from your stack of ungraded assignments to see Daven holding his hand up. You smile. “Something on your mind Daven?” 

“I was wondering if you have a favorite hero here? Like mine is Cyclops. He’s so cool with his lasers that go ‘bbsszzzz’” Daven asks with a huge grin, hands reenacting exactly what Scott’s eyes do when fighting. The whole class starts to laugh, children chiming in louder who theirs is. 

You can’t help but chuckle as they start to all talk about who on the X-men is their hero. So much for a quiet break. “How about you all draw your favorite X-men and give it to them as a gift? I think that would be quite nice, wouldn't you?” 

This of course went over very well with them, their smiles growing wider in excitement. Chairs topple over as you see them all rush to get their papers and crayons, some grabbing paints. “Remember to be clean!” You chime while sitting back down, grading their homework assignments before their attention span dies. 

By the end of class, everyone has their special drawing and the room is clean. Thank God. 

You hold the door for them as they all let out one by one. “Next week you have a quiz! So remember to read your chapters over the weekend.” You smile at them all, feeling content they enjoyed their art class. It’s something you hold dear to yourself, always finding serenity and peace with it. Which makes your heart happy to be able to share with them. 

“Miss (l/n), I have something for you.”

You look down to see Marie, adorably clad with pigtails and bows that match her uniform. 

“Whatcha got sweetie?” You say while reaching out to grab what she was offering. 

“My hero doesn’t come here often. He’s mysterious like that. But I wanted you to give it to him if you see him.” Her drawing is a misshapen round circle person clad in a yellow suit with what looks like knives poking out of his hands like Freddy Kreuger. HUH

“Honey, you sure you don’t want to give it to him? You made it. I’m sure he’d love to receive it from you.” You look down to see her shake her head no. 

“No, I think you should give it to Logan.” She then turns on her cute little shoes and makes her way out the door and down the hall.  Bro I don’t even know a Logan. Huh, maybe Professor Charles knows something about this. You sigh to yourself before folding it into itself and stuffing it into your bag. You feel the exhaustion from today begin to settle in with the quiet. Closing the door behind you, you walk down the hall, ready to get this meeting over with.

[icaruspendragon]

im sorry to ask but i dont know what else to do—how did you do it how did you dig yourself out because it feels like i am choking on dirt and people keep shoveling it onto me and i miss her so much and i dont know how to make this feeling stop. she was my best friend. ive never lived in a world without her before. how did you do it. how are you doing it

grief is so hard and so heavy when we first meet it. it feels like all our arms will ever hold for the rest of forever. and it is, in a sense. once we pick it up, we never really set it down. not fully.

and I don't think it gets lighter, I think we somehow, impossibly, get stronger.

there's lots of metaphors for grief. that's one of them. another one I like to use is that it feels like you're in the grave with them. like lazarus. like yourself. waiting for someone to raise you from the dead. to raise you both.

I've learned a lot about crawling out of the grave. more than I would have ever wanted to learn. like how emptiness is actually quite heavy. or how to pretend like you feel half-alive. but I think the most important thing I've learned is that somedays, we inexplicably end up back in it. and that sucks.

because we just spent months clawing our way through the bugs and the earth. because our soldier-hands have finally breached the surface. because the sun is finally caressing our hell-fresh faces. because for the first time in months we feel like we can finally breath. and then, suddenly, we're right back in the terrible thick of it.

those days make it feel like I'm sisyphus and grave dirt is my rock. or like I'm prometheus and the darkness is my eagle.

but then it's tuesday.

which is to say my brother died on my 25th birthday, a monday. and that day is now a memory that's fuzzy around the edges. single snapshots I know are connected, but I couldn't tell you how. I remember my mother standing in my bedroom and tears and family and phone calls and cleaning my living room because I didn't know what to do with my hands. I remember going to my grandmothers and my phone vibrating off the table and leaving to go get coffee because I couldn't sit still. I remember joking, trying to joke. trying to do whatever I could to make sense of that impossible day. I remember checking my phone and reading and rereading the messages, a mixed bag of congratulations for surviving another year and condolences that my brother didn't, I remember not knowing how to respond to any of them. so I didn't. I remember being surrounded by so many people doing nothing but extending love and kindness to me and never feeling more alone. the world was ending and I was alone. I thought that day would go on forever.

but it didn't.

it ended, as all things do. monday was over and my first day as an only child was done.

and suddenly it was tuesday. and everything was different but also exactly the same.

it was tuesday and my brother was dead. I was so heavy when I woke up that first tuesday. so heavy and confused. I thought the world had ended. it surely felt like it had. but it hadn't. because the world couldn't have ended on monday.

not if it was tuesday.

it was tuesday and my brother was dead but the world wasn't ending. monday should have been our demise, but it wasn't. and it hasn't. and it won't. because just as sure as we have mondays, we'll always have tuesdays.

that's something I've taken a strange comfort in, knowing that we'll always have tuesdays.

the feeling never stops. but I think that's okay. because you're only feeling that way because there was love first. and as much as what I felt on that first tuesday hurts, as much as it suffocates, as much as it consumes, I'd take the hurt and the suffocation and the consumption because the love I felt first will always, always be worth it.

tuesdays will always be worth it.

like yeah, if I loved less, it wouldn't hurt this bad. but I don't want to live in a world where I have to love less. where I was loved less.

I'll take the pain. I'll take the grave days. I'll take the rock. I'll take the eagle. I'll take apocalyptic, earthshaking mondays. I'll take every last wretched bit because goddamn what a miracle it is to love so bad it hurts this big.

I hold that love, his love for me and my love for him, a love that's now become our love in the cage of my ribs while I'm in the cage of the grave. and I dig.

it's monday and I dig.

I dig.

and then tuesday comes.

[htpssgavi]

pleaseee bestfriends to lovers with gavi🙏🙏🙏

hiii!!! Sorry it took me that much to write it😭😭

Best Friends to Lovers

Gavi and y/n had been best friends for as long as he could remember. Growing up in the same vibrant neighborhood in Barcelona, they shared everything from childhood secrets to teenage dreams. Now at nineteen, Gavi was making a name for himself as a talented footballer at FC Barcelona, while y/n, eighteen, was finishing high school and making waves as a rising star in volleyball.

Their bond was unbreakable, a blend of deep friendship and mutual respect. They were always there for each other, through the highs and lows, laughter and tears. But lately, something had shifted. Gavi couldn't deny the way his heart raced when y/n was around, the way his eyes lingered on her a bit longer than before, the way her touch sent shivers down his spine.

One breezy spring evening, after a particularly exhausting match, Gavi decided to unwind with y/n. They agreed to visit their favorite spot—a quiet beach just outside Barcelona. It was their haven, a place where they could escape the world and just be themselves.

As they walked along the sandy shore, the setting sun casting a golden glow over the waves, Gavi couldn't help but steal glances at y/n. She looked more beautiful than ever, her eyes reflecting the warm hues of the sunset, her smile radiant. His heart swelled with a mixture of affection and longing he could no longer ignore.

"Do you remember when we first came here?" y/n asked, breaking the comfortable silence between them.

"Of course," Gavi replied with a smile. "We were just kids, and we thought this beach was a hidden treasure. We even made a pact to keep it our secret spot."

Y/n laughed, the sound like music to Gavi's ears. "And we've kept that promise all these years. This place still feels magical."

They found a spot near the water and sat down, the serene atmosphere enveloping them. For a while, they watched the waves gently lapping at the shore, the scene as peaceful as their friendship had always been. But tonight, Gavi felt a sense of urgency, a need to say what he'd been holding back for too long.

"Y/n, there's something I need to tell you," he began, his voice tinged with nervousness.

She turned to him, her eyes filled with curiosity and a hint of concern. "What is it, Gavi?"

He took a deep breath, his heart pounding. "We've been best friends for so long, and you've always been there for me. But recently, I've realized something… something more. I can't keep it to myself any longer."

Y/n's breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening. "What do you mean?"

Gavi reached for her hand, his touch gentle but firm. "I love you, y/n. Not just as a friend, but as someone I want to share my life with. I've been afraid to tell you because I didn't want to risk our friendship, but I can't hide it anymore."

Tears filled y/n's eyes as she listened, her heart pounding in her chest. "Gavi, I… I love you too. I've felt this way for a while but was too scared to say anything."

Relief and joy washed over Gavi as he pulled her into his arms. They stayed like that for a while, holding each other as the sun dipped below the horizon, their hearts beating in sync.

From that moment on, their relationship changed. They were no longer just best friends; they were partners, lovers, soulmates. Gavi's career continued to soar, and y/n's volleyball skills flourished, each of them supporting and inspiring the other. They traveled together, explored new places, and built a life filled with love, laughter, and countless shared moments.

Their bond, once a simple friendship, had grown into something beautiful and profound. Through every challenge and triumph, they stood by each other's side, their love growing stronger with each passing day.

And so, beneath the ever-present Catalonian sky, Gavi and y/n wrote the chapters of their love story, forever intertwined, forever in love. Their journey together was a testament to the power of love and the beauty of finding a soulmate in the most unexpected places.

[moghedien]

honestly I'm just constantly obsessing over the Lae'zel romance scenes, but like I think I've finally decided which version of the duel (you winning or her) I prefer from just like a character standpoint.

because in the moment I went back and forth with both versions because I wasn't sure, but then ended up staying with the version where I win, and I think that's my preference now because it just feels like a subtler but more intense mind fuck to Lae'zel if you take everything that happened up into this point into account.

and do not get my wrong, i think the version where she wins is absolutely a mind fuck to her for many reasons, and I do love it. like her realizing that you aren't weak and she's like horrified at having hurt you and that very concept confusing her? amazing. we love her for it.

but if you win the duel, I feel like that forces her to recontextualize soo much more if you played the romance how I did at least. because basically any time she told me to submit, i did. I never tried to be the dominant one. I never even really teased her for being soft in certain circumstances or got snarky with her or got upset when she'd be like possessive and demeaning.

and I imagine that the githyanki sex rituals dictate that like the weaker one is submissive one and so obviously Lae'zel was the stronger one your relationship and if you did nothing to dissuade her of that fact then you obviously agree. there's no love or preference in it. There's just like desire and physical need and ability that decides who's doing what.

and I feel like this is backed up by the conversation when you can turn the one night stand into a two night stand, where she's like "you look weak and pathetic when you look at me. you look terrified." And also the fact that you can request that she stay and cuddle you afterward in that scene and she's like, baffled and upset by that suggestion. She calls it pointless grappling and a waste of muscles. like sex is combative to her. If you're not fighting for dominance or directly getting off in that moment, then what's the point? and if you embarrass her by suggesting she's never cuddled before, then she tries to get back at you by pointing out that she killed some kind of creature and you haven't. like do not get it twisted. dominance in sex is like expressly tied to actual strength and weakness outside of sex to her.

So if you win the duel? If you've been unquestioningly letting her dominant you in every sexual encounter and then only to turn around and fucking annihilate her in battle the first time you're actually going head to head, 1v1?

Imagine how much that must fuck with her perceptions what your relationship has been up until this point.

Because now its not even just her realizing that she has feelings for you that she doesn't know how to deal with. Oh no. She's realizing that every single time she's told you to submit and you did, its not because you couldn't dominate her. Its not because you were afraid of her or thought you were weaker than her. Its not because you couldn't flip things around on her. its not just that you were so lustful toward her that you submitted just to be able to have sex. It's because you specifically wanted to be the submissive one and you wanted her to do what she wanted with you.

You coulda kicked her ass at any time. And you never even tried. You never even hinted at it.

and god, the cuddling? You didn't want that just to distract or as some trick to exhaust her? You just wanted to cuddle? you wanted to be soft and hold each other just for the sake of it?

and the fact that its only after the duel that she asks you to be gentler with each other now and she says its the most terrifying thing she's ever done just kinda hammers that home for me. Because she realized it isn’t weakness that makes her (and you) want those things. It’s still scary to ask for though…

Like I'm just saying, if you've just unquestionably submitted to her and then you kick her ass, then she's not just grappling with the fact that she's having feelings. She's grappling with the fact that you've been having feelings this entire time and were much more aware of it than her, and that didn’t make you weak, so maybe it doesn’t make her weak either?

[blackgirlsuperherorants]

IWTV rant incoming, spoilers for both seasons, be forewarned!

I've been seeing far too much Louis hate online recently, and while I'm of the opinion that none of these vamps are completely innocent by nature, I can't help but notice the disproportionate hate on my boy.

Honestly, it feels a little like fandom racism. And I think AMC IWTV fans have convinced themselves that they're beyond such things because of Jacob and Assad, but idk, everyone turning on the Black one at once seems... yucky?

First, I've seen a lot of "Louis is an abuser". Which... is a wild take on a show where most of the main characters hurt everyone around them?

I think some of it is coming from those who saw the episode in season 2 in which it is revealed that the big fight that Louis and Lestat had in S1 was more even than just Lestat beating up Louis, but y'all... we're not supposed to take S1 as a complete fabrication. A lot of y'all keep saying "oh, we haven't met the real Lestat." Sure, not in person and not from his POV until that ending, but we're not supposed to take it as Louis just lying outright. In the series, different from the books, OUR Louis calls Daniel back in 2022 to give him a more accurate version of the story. In the 1970s, he was just trash-talking Lestat. In 2022, he is remembering Lestat fondly while also remembering all the pain Lestat caused him. He only learns at the end of the season that Armand manipulated some of his memories. And only SOME. We're not supposed to think Armand made Louis misremember everything he and Lestat ever did together. So, we can take S1 as a version of the truth, even if it has some holes or misremembered parts... and in S1, Lestat is a scary guy. When Louis fought him, he was fighting a scary monster. You can't talk about it like he was a human man fighting his human partner because he got a little angry. He was a vampire fighting an even stronger vampire who, as far as Louis knew, was capable of awful things. And Lestat stalked Louis when he was still a human, fed on him without consent, killed the priests Louis turned to in fear... none of that was healthy courtship of a lover. To then turn around and call LOUIS the abuser? That's nuts.

And then there's Armand.

Armand is capable of great physical violence without even lifting a finger. You cannot look at me in the face and tell me that Louis slamming him into a wall was *abuse* after finding out that Armand mindfucked him for 70 years. After y'all saw what Armand did to Daniel. After Armand plotted Louis' death while manipulating Louis into thinking he was loved.

"Louis is an abuser" is a wild take after watching both of those seasons. Louis isn't an innocent princess, either, but compared to the two older vampires, he is the main victim of the story. Both Lestat and Armand emotionally abused him, manipulated him, and physically hurt him, and after all of it, he just ends up alone.

Now, believe me, I love Armand and Lestat. I think they're wonderfully awful people, and so much fun to watch, so fun to love, so fun to hate. But I think so many people left season 2 on their sides completely, just because Louis stood up for himself AND admitted that he was wrong about a lot of what he thought he remembered. And in all honesty, I think a lot of y'all like Sam and Assad because they're hot and... Jacob, while hot, is still Black. With Assad, you can give yourselves the benefit of the doubt because he's still a person of color, but he's a non-black person of color...

And Black people are not afforded softness or innocence, the way non-black people are. So, Louis doing something that's not good makes him not good, even if it's in the context of being a vampire. But Lestat and Armand get "brat prince" and "baby girl" even when they're cruel.

And also, it's not great to put the "abuser" label on someone standing up to their abuser. I dunno. Feels kinda yucky, in that sense, too.

Personally, I try to keep these people's vampire incarnations out of human morality, because being a vampire is inherently immoral because you need to kill to stay alive. So, like, when they physically fight, I can excuse it because they know they can't actually do much harm for the most part, because vampires heal fast and can't be easily hurt. But when... idk, you drop your fledgling from an extreme height, or cut someone's ankles and have them buried in rocks and locked away in a mausoleum... that's actually trying to hurt them (as Lestat admitted.)

And Louis' attempt to kill Lestat was because he and Claudia feared him. None of them disagree with that fact.

Anyway, have the same grace for the Black man that you do for your brat prince. Idk why y'all are trying to make Louis the bad guy. He never even asked to be a vampire. Lestat just wanted to keep him.

[promptedwordsmith]

I have a request my birthday is on March 3 so can you write something with the LDS boys?!?

Hi, thanks for the ask! I wasn't sure what you wanted me to write since I've already done a birthday post so I hope you don't mind what I chose instead! Happy birthday!!

(ps I also gave Caleb a shot as an extra treat I hope that's OK!)

LADS guys when you get injured

Rafayel:

Is furious but he’s not sure at who, you? The wanderer? Himself? He can’t believe it happened, it could have been so much worse, you could have died and what was he doing? Painting peacefully in his studio.

Is very clingy for the next few weeks, appearing at your door to make sure you’re taking care of yourself, and that’s after you had convinced him to not just sleep at your apartment.

When the doctor declares you fit to go back to work Rafayel refuses and makes you go for a second opinion, claiming the first is delusional, claiming you still had a slight limp and if you limped on the battlefield it could get you killed.

Claims he needs to nurse you back to health and he doesn’t tease you as much, he’s quite serious actually.

Tries to make you foods that are good for healing, three meals a day and thinks you don’t notice when he slips out to call the nutritionist he hired and collect the food from the chef.

Xavier:

Everything considered, he would give you the silent treatment while tenderly taking care of you, he’s supposed to be your partner at work and outside of work so why were you out there without him? If he had been there the wanderer wouldn’t have had even the slightest chance of hurting you like it did.

He’s constantly thinking about what could have happened and is more driven than ever to be there when you needed him.

When he did start talking to you again, he made sure to drill into your head how it made him feel for you to not even think of getting his help, that he understood you were strong and capable but that he was always available, he knows he could have made a difference and it’s never too safe to bring back up.

Makes sure you go to doctors’ appointments; he may not take proper care of himself, but everything be damned before he let you work yourself to death with this injury.

 Tries to make you food but quickly learns if he wants you to be stationary and comfortable, he should not even approach the kitchen, opting to order the healthiest takeaways he can, sulking a bit you don’t trust him with the oven.

Zayne:

As your doctor he’s startled when you appear with a large injury, but he’s instantly more comfortable when he finds its mainly just superficial, doesn’t stop him from lecturing you about how you could let that happen.

Makes you go through every test he can justify you getting to check there’s no poison or corruption or anything that could risk your life in anyway and pays special attention to your heart.

He’s now more concerned for your safety, especially about if this is going to be more common and starts researching wanderers and whether they were getting stronger or smarter to cause this, start keeping up with any news on wanderer evolution.

Schedules a few more appointments for you than is really necessary but since its large he justifies it as a higher chance of infection because of its location, even though he’s busy he just extends his working hours to see you in a professional capacity or if he can’t do that because of working laws he’ll come see you as soon as his shifts are over to check on it.

When he’s sure you’re healed he reluctantly signs you fit for duty and gives you a stern lecture about avoiding those types of injuries in the future.

Caleb:

Doesn't hear about it for a while because he's occupied by his job, but the second he does he's desperately calling you and texting you, all while booking time off, a flight back and buying you get well soon gifts.

As soon as he's home, he's giving you a big hug asking how you are, what happened, "what does the other guy look like?" in a teasing tone.

Promises he's sticking around for at least a week, preferably until you're feeling better though, and makes you all your favourite food while he's there, insisting you stay at your grandma's while you recover so they can both dote on you.

Let's you talk his ear off, spends the whole time reminiscing with you and doing things you did together when you were younger, just being more careful with you of course.

When you eel better and before he leaves he makes you promise not to get hurt again any time soon, and makes sure you know he'll tease you like crazy if you do, ruffling your hair before he goes.

[a-student-out-of-time]

The Post-Tragedy Horrors of Despair Time

Hello everyone, Mod Bubbles here!

This Halloween, I decided to do something a little different. Rather than a dedicated post or song parody, I've decided to share a worldbuilding analysis. A pretty fortuitous one, since we've recently completed Chapter 2 of Despair Time.

I'm sure it's no exaggeration to say that DT is a pretty dark fangan, especially within its own context. I wouldn't say it's as grimdark and nihilistic as some people are convinced it is, but there's some elements to it that I feel are worth analyzing going forward.

See, it's been established that DT is set within the Hope's Peak continuity. This would mean that the canon games sans V3 (and if you want to have fun with it, other fangans like the Another series) have all happened here.

According to a Q&A, DT is set around 70-80 years after the end of the Tragedy, so if you wanted to estimate based on in-universe dates (such as Makoto's Hope's Peak brochure saying 2010 in the earliest version of the game but 2014 in a re-release), that would put it sometime around 2080 to the mid-2090s. Veronika backs this up in Chapter 2, when she mentions the Tragedy happened "almost a century ago."

Why do I bring all this up? Because if you looked at DT, you'd probably never guess it was that deep in the future. I know I didn't at first. And this is all by design, but it goes beyond simple cosmetic details. Allow me to explain to you why this is probably the darkest timeline that could've happened after Class 78's victory over Ultimate Despair.

___________________________________________________

Modern Stagnancy

So if we look at the obvious, the world of DT looks pretty much identical to our own, which should be a good thing. When you consider that this is set after The Biggest, Most Awful, Most Tragic Event in Human History- an event that saw societal collapse, wars happen for the sake of destruction, massive pollution, rampant murder, and countless killing games- then it almost seems utopian.

Cities have long since been rebuilt, the skies are clear, there are functional trains, movies, celebrities, schools, music, art, Ted-Talks, the internet, all the trappings of normality. And that's really the problem.

Once the recovery efforts were underway, the goal of those in power was to rebuild things exactly as they used to be. Bear in mind, the world looks like our modern day, yet this is set deep into the late 21st century. In that context, the world almost seems stunted in its growth or even that it's regressed, given that CDs and DVDs are used rather than USBs or digital downloads.

Not only that, but this extends to societal attitudes as well. Nico was the victim of bullying over their status as an enby by everyone who knew, including their own father. It's almost the 22nd century and anti-LGBTQ bigotry like this still exists.

In that context, it feels less like the world is recovering and more that it's been stuck in its pre-Tragedy status quo, right down to continuing the Ultimates program that contributed to The Tragedy in the first place. And who would be motivated to do that?

2. Hope's Peak And Their Kin Are Stronger Than Ever

Probably one of the most contentious aspects of DR3's ending is that, after everything the people in charge of it were responsible for- exploiting their students, covering up crimes, human experimentation- Hope's Peak Academy was rebuilt by the survivors, now with Makoto as headmaster.

Now, one could make the argument that Makoto is a better example of hope and thus better suited to lead the school to follow its stated ideals than the Steering Committee ever was. That very well may be true, but as they also proved, nobody stays in charge forever. And now, because of his decision, Hope's Peak isn't contained to Japan.

There now exist Hope's Peak branches in every major country on Earth, with two in the United States. Teruko and co. are students of the East Coast Division's 27th class, meaning that one opened almost thirty years ago. This would also mean that Japan's Hope's Peak would have seen over 150 classes since its inception.

I bring all this up because, as has been made very clear by canon, Hope's Peak is a terrible place even in concept. When you remove the idyllic aspect of fostering talent and guaranteeing its students are set for life, the truth is that ultimates are stunted in their development. They're only encouraged to excel in their particular field, whether they really want to or not.

In addition, Hope's Peak has always quietly held this belief that only people with talent hold any worth; those without talent are just "ticks" who leech off the success of their betters. Characters like Byakuya and Nagito echo those very same sentiments, this extreme elitism that encourages people to view the "99%" as inherently inferior.

Even if you wanted to say Makoto managed to undo that idea, can we really say this divide would never come up again? No matter how many years pass or how many divisions of Hope's Peak are set up across the world? That seems really far-fetched to me.

Consider Min's bonus video. As she explains, she was never scouted by the school. Instead, America's Hope's Peak announced something called the Ultimate Contest for Eminent Students, where eligible high school students would be allowed to take a test, the best of whom would be admitted to the school when they graduated. The catch is that they had 12 years to prepare. Min, who was only 5 at the time, wasn't initially going to participate, but then the founder of a company called XF-Ture Tech approached her family- who was quite poor- and wanted to sponsor her in exchange for her participation.

She spent her entire life preparing for that test. And when she passed, she realized it was all really just an experiment to create their ideal version of the Ultimate Student. She even doubted that she was the best in terms of raw score, just that she met their desired expectations by cutting out everything else in her life for that test.

It also extends beyond just Hope's Peak itself. Those with power and influence now hold a strangle hold over the most vulnerable people out there, as we can see with the Lacroix family.

Rose wanted to help her family out of their financial limitations using her painting skills and her photographic memory, which lead to her becoming an art forger. However, at 15, she was found out and her family faced tens of millions in fines. This would've been the end, but then they were bailed out by a billionaire named Richard Spurling, founder of the Spurling Foundation. In exchange for clearing her charges, Rose had to sign a contract that meant she doesn't own the rights to anything she paints.

She hates what her life has become, where she can only ever really paint things at the whims of the Foundation because it was the only way her family could survive that mountain of debt. The exploitation there is undeniable.

No matter where you look, there's still exploitation and experiment abound with the school, corporations and the wealthy. And if you think the Spurling Foundation sounds bad here, they're implied to be responsible for something much worse.

Which is also brings us to Xander. See, there's a curious detail when we first meet him in the prologue:

And I agree. Xander being the Ultimate Rebel really doesn't fit him, as he's better described as the "Ultimate Revolutionary." Except there's no chance Hope's Peak would call him that, instead paying lip service to the idea in a digestible format to still support the status quo.

Xander is an activist who works to oppose corruption, but the ones who benefit from corruption wouldn't want him to flaunt that. It's a subtle but very clever detail that shows those in power still maintain a hold even over their beloved Ultimates.

They probably had no issue throwing the obviously corrupt under the bus to save their own hides, and raised Xander up with a quasi-supportive title. It gives them a chance to look like they're supporting what he's doing while still tying an element of a "rebellious child" to his image with the name.

Had Xander survived, he had a good reason to want to bring them down, especially the Spurlings.

3. Illness and Poverty

Xander's bonus video clued us in on what I believe is one of the most important parts of DT's continuity: the fate of the town of Chariton, implied to be where he lived. It seemed to be a small town, home to a couple hundred or a couple thousand people, where the only hospital for miles was "dinky, understaffed" and barely able to handle a minor flu outbreak. They were completely unprepared for what became known as the Chariton Incident.

When he was around 14, the town was hit by a disease that caused those infected to decay from the outside in; their limbs would stop working before their organs did, meaning they would just lay there and feel themselves slowly dying. So many died that nobody was left to move the bodies, so they were left where they fell, rotting in the summer heat.

The cause of this outbreak? A contaminated river that served as the town's water source. Chariton was an impoverished community, where people had no money to treat their water, get medicine from a nearby city or to even move out. It's also implied, based on Xander's anger, that Duke Spurling was partially responsible and that he got off the hook, which may be what drove Xander to become the Ultimate Rebel. Especially when you consider he's the only surviving member of his family.

Duke Spurling is, as the named implies and Dev has confirmed, the younger brother of Richard Spurling. The money and influence needed to get his brother off the hook is the very same that has the Lacroix family under his thumb.

So as we can see, Chariton was a major event in DT's canon. Not only does it showcase corruption, it also showcases understated but still prominent problems in the post-Tragedy U.S. If you pay attention, you'll also notice Teruko, Min, and Rose mention poverty playing a role in their lives.

As we can see, poverty plays a major role in their lives, and that extends beyond a personal level. Chariton's poverty is why the incident happened at all, and a big reason is because it's also an example of a medical desert.

"Medical desert" is a term used to describe regions whose population has inadequate access to healthcare. This can be all healthcare in general or in specialties such as dental care or pharmaceuticals. This is an especially prominent problem in rural areas, but it can affect urban ones too.

If that sounds implausible to you, today it's believed that around 30 million Americans- over 1% of the population- live over an hour from a hospital. Can you imagine how bad the problem is in a world after The Tragedy? All the damage to infrastructure, established institutions, the economy, and the population? I doubt Chariton was the first to see something this bad.

Ace's execution gives us more clues. In the Death By Illness section, there are several newspaper clippings on the wall, most of which are readable. One flashes on screen saying "Unexplained Illness Kills Thousands," which I believe is another reference to Chariton (why else would it flash on screen?), but there's more as well:

"More people are dying of cancer than ever before"

"Flu season claims thousands of lives"

"Falling rates of survival for hospitalized patients"

"Antibiotic-resistant infections a growing threat in this hospital"

One is harder to read, but I believe it mentions Chronic Kidney Disease being tied to an early death

Now, the interesting thing is that most of these are modern headlines, and they can be pretty misleading. The cancer one is actually based on the fact that more people are living longer lives, thus are reaching ages where they develop cancer due to their cell infrastructure breaking down naturally. It doesn't mean there's more cancer cases overall across all ages.

The only one that's not true is the falling rates one. Which suggests that not only was it Chariton, but healthcare infrastructure in general after the Tragedy seems to be a mess.

See, I was assuming that these articles are identical to what we see today. But it's also possible that the cancer one is now literally true, and it could be because The Tragedy was rife with this kind of horror. We know that terrorism, coups and wars happened for no reason other than to spread despair across the world.

Could you imagine how many nuclear, chemical, biological and radiological weapons were used? How many diseases and hazardous materials were seeded into the environment? If it's unsafe to drink tap water after a serious hurricane or earthquake, how bad is the problem when contamination is the goal?

And this doesn't even touch on how disturbingly easy it would be to spread long-term illnesses such as HIV or CJD in contaminated food and medical supplies. Some diseases have latency periods that last decades, meaning they could still be killing people even by the time DRDT is set.

Antibiotic resistance is also a very real and serious problem. Even today, some strains have become immune to even the strongest antibiotics available. This has given rise to Vancomycin-Resistant Enterococci or VREs, which are immune to basically every medication we can throw at them.

Now, it's still possible to deal with them, such as with naturally antimicrobial metals or experimental treatments such as CRISPR and Phage Therapy, but in a world that saw such a massive hit to everything? I'm certain antibiotic-resistance bacteria have become much more serious, potentially resulting in epidemics over the years.

And when these things happen, it's always the poor who suffer the most.

4. Lethal Repetition

Now we come to the most obvious example, something highlighted by the same reveal that DT is set nearly a century into the future:

Veronika, who provided us with information on the effects the Tragedy still has, apparently has never heard about The Killing School Life.

Now, it's important to keep in mind that most of the Killing Games in DR were pretty secluded and motivated. SDR2 was only broadcast to Future Foundation with the goal to allow Junko to escape into the real world, for example. However, DR1's Killing School Life was broadcast globally as a means to break humanity's hope by showing the Ultimates slaughtering each other. Instead, Makoto and co. managed to reinvigorate the world's hope and played a pivotal role in ending the Tragedy.

...And yet Veronika apparently hasn't heard any of it.

Now, there's two possibilities here, neither of which are good:

One is that the Mastermind has removed their knowledge of previous killing games, specifically. Now, I actually consider this an unlikely explanation because, not only does Teruko seem to vaguely remember the Killing School Life happened, but what's the goal in doing so for the participants?

The canon games all had solid reasons why the other masterminds erased the participants' memories: the revelation that they'd been killing their friends, the fact that their past identities were supposed to be undone to save them, even the fact that they weren't even who they were supposed to be in V3.

But what's the purpose of suppressing the memories of the Killing School Life in the participants themselves? Especially since this game is also apparently being broadcast to the outside world, although we only have MonoTV's word on that. Is it to undermine everything the survivors achieved or to get the participants not to consider the same strategies?

The other, more plausible explanation to me is that the mastermind isn't the one who erased their memories. The outside world did.

It's possible that, in the decades since the Tragedy and the drive to return things to the status quo, knowledge of the Killing School Life has been suppressed. It would be so easy to blame Makoto's decision to rebuild the school, but it's just as plausible that his attempts to genuinely reform the school were undone over the years.

Corporations and those that came after had a vested reason to improve their own reputations, and why would they allow their connection to the Tragedy to remain public knowledge? The entire thing began as a revolution of lower classes against the rich before it became a whirlwind of mindless violence.

So what does this mean for DT? This is more hypothesizing on my part, but I'd say this could tell us a lot about the potential motivations for this very killing game. Could it be someone trying to remind the world about this event and how we got here? Is it more retribution against the wealthy? Is it someone who was inspired by Junko to slaughter her friends? Or is it something else entirely? And what role does Teruko have if someone involved is so hellbent on trying to kill her?

For now, we can only speculate. But I can tell you that, based on what we've seen here, DT is probably the darkest future we could've gotten out of the canon series.

Happy Halloween, everyone!