#relentlessly nice even when the world seems cruel

[carlosfruitsnacks]

"we used to be a team"

PART 2 || PART 3

summary:

— The trio, you, Camilo, and Carlos were inseparable since kids until one day all of you were forced to be broken apart as things change and don't be the same anymore.

genre:

— fluff to angst, aged up, & modern au 

notes:

— gender-neautral reader. I do not speak fluent Spanish and all of the Spanish here is translated from google, feel free to correct me.

warning/s:

— heavy cussing, mentions of violence, and smoking

a/n:

— some of you guys wanted me to try more of fluff and angst fics so as I said, I will. grab some tissues y'all. part 2 will be coming soon hehe

The world beneath your feet has often been cold. From the start, when you first opened your eyes, you're aware of how cruel life is going to be. Loneliness, confusion, and misery were the only things present in your life, unlike your parents. You never discovered your parents' real names. At the age of ten, you were forced to make a living on your own as an orphan. You were forced to see things a child shouldn't see. It felt like your innocence was stripped away from you the moment you found yourself stealing from people for a living.

As much as you weren't proud of what you had to do to survive, you managed to land yourself in school and did relatively well. It was a public school welcome for those who wanted to learn. You were hopeful that once you finished school you'll find your place in the world. After you turned twelve, you were receiving mistreatment from the other children in school. It wasn't expected but after everything you went through, you should've seen it coming.

You were relentlessly bullied and harassed for being alone, you never bothered how to make friends because you didn't know how to. It was hell, trying to deal with other children picking on you because you had no friends. Life probably thought it was such a cruel joke and that you haven't been through enough.

"You're such a loser, [Name]"

"Poor [Name], they have no friends"

"I bet your mommy and daddy don't love you"

Laughter echoed in the background as you were getting beaten again into a pulp. You never learned how to defend yourself, all you know was to take every punishment the world has to give you even if it seemed unfair. They shoved and kicked you to the ground, one of them was prepared to give you another punch on the face until you hear screaming.

You gasped to see your bullies get trampled into the ground by two kids around your age. You watched with owlish eyes as they did a number on them. One of the kids was wearing a maroon sweatshirt, he punched one of your bullies which sent them cowering in fear. Eventually, the ambush was over as all of your bullies admitted defeat and decided to run away. You gazed at your two saviors who happened to be twin brothers. One of them offers you a hand to lift you up.

"Are you okay?"

He asked, he was wearing a bright yellow shirt with a chameleon print. You didn't know how to reply because this was the first act of kindness you received in a long time. The kid in the maroon sweatshirt scoffs and fixes his curly brown hair.

"Let's just go, Camilo. I'm hungry and I wanna get ice cream"

He says before walking away, acting like the fight earlier didn't happen. The twin, Camilo, nods but turns to you. He watched you stand awkwardly with scratches and bruises all over your skin. He smiles brightly at you.

"Hey, do you want to get ice cream with us?"

Camilo doesn't get a reply from you, he didn't understand why you behaved this way. Nevertheless, he gently takes your hand and leads you to an ice cream parlor with his twin brother. Three twelve-year-olds sat together on a hill on a sunny day, eating ice cream. One of them scrunches his nose.

"Why'd you have to invite them?"

"Oh, don't be mean Carlos!"

"Whatever"

The boy, Carlos, rolls his eyes and continued eating his ice cream. Camilo checks on you to see you peacefully finishing your ice cream. You didn't realize nor process what was happening but it felt nice so you let it happen. It was great to have someone around to spend time with. The three of you watched the sun slowly descend from the sky, all of a sudden, Camilo turns to you.

"Hey, what's your name?"

For the first time, you knew how to respond to a human conversation. You look into his eyes, wide-eyed and glimmering.

"[Name] [Surname]"

"I think we're gonna be friends, [Name]"

Years go by, and you're now in college. The most unpredictable event occurred in your life; you became best friends with Camilo and Carlos. Ever since you ate ice cream with the twins, they insisted on having you around so that nobody comes picking on you. Twelve-year-old you found it sweet when they would stand up for you whenever somebody wanted to mess with you. Day by day, the three of you grew close and eventually memorized each other's habits.

Camilo was a happy-go-lucky guy. He's a very kind-hearted and cheerful person. He'd always know how to make you laugh until you cry. He taught you many things like games and how to have fun. He was like your beacon of hope, your source of comfort. Camilo was an expert when reading your emotions and providing the best hugs when needed. He's the reason why you learned how to smile.

Carlos in contrast to his brother was a pessimist. He loves to deny it by saying he's only a realist. He loved nagging your ear off because of how naive you are. You weren't taking any of his insults to heart, you just figured it's his way of showing he values your friendship. Even if he's a grumpy guy, he's overly protective of you. Refusing to let you walk home alone or leave you alone in general. If you're somewhere, he's probably lurking by. Carlos made you feel secured, he's your safe haven. In the entirety of your life where you felt like nobody cared, Carlos made you realize that someone still cares about you.

The three of you would never miss a day without walking together to your classes. All of you would wake up early to jump on fences and explore for a bit. Camilo would take you to find bugs with him on the ground, and Carlos would insist on hanging out by the park. You three would safely walk to class without a sound. You all would meet up by lunch and trade food and share stories. Sometimes, when lunch is over the three of you would skip classes to fuck around. You'd all go to prohibited places in the university. One time, one of the staff caught you three sharing a cigarette but managed to escape any trouble.

And at the end of the day, when you would walk home with Carlos and Camilo, you'd lie on your bed and dream about the many things you'd do with them. The twins were aware that you were living on your own and had to go to a job on the weekends to pay your rent. They insisted that you should go live with them but you didn't want to be a burden.

Today, you, Camilo, and Carlos explored the park before walking to your classes. You can spend a lifetime with the boys, actually. They're the reason why you're still holding on. Carlos sighed.

"I wanna skip class today"

"Bro, why?"

"Don't wanna attend the first class"

You and Camilo shared a laugh but agreed to skip all of your classes with Carlos. The three of you began doing dumb stuff. Vandalizing an abandoned property, shoplifted a few chips from the store, and went out smoking at the back of an alleyway. You like to think they weren't a bad influence considering they had remarkable grades, they're just probably enjoying the rest of their youth.

Carlos caught your attention by taking a long drag and stomping the cigarette after. He glares ahead and you turn to notice a few thugs coming your way. Shit, they all look like they're want trouble. Camilo sucks in a breath as his smile drops at the sight of the thugs. You looked at them nervously. Carlos turns to you.

"Run, [Name]"

"What the fuck, Carlos? [Name] can throw a punch, they're not five!"

"I'm not risking it, dumbass. Get the fuck out of here, [Name]!"

Carlos shouted before one of the thugs began to run to him and delivered a solid punch to his face. You trusted his word and started sprinting away, you don't dare look back when you hear a couple of pairs of feet running behind you. As you kept running, one of them managed to catch up to you and kick you as you were sent face-first to the ground. You looked up in terror as the teens chuckled and circled around you. It felt like you were twelve again, getting picked on at school every day.

Tears began forming in your eyes, you look around for any sign of your best friends but there was nobody. Your breath turned heavy as your heart began skipping beats. You kept an eye on the thugs as one of them pulls out a baseball bat.

You watched helplessly on the ground as the men towered over you, smirking. They were having fun taking advantage of a helpless teenager.

"Please don't hurt me!"

You pleaded but they all laughed in unison, acting like it was all just a funny joke. Your scan your surroundings but there wasn't anything that can provide you any form of protection. You end up curling into a ball, waiting for your doom until you hear one of the men falling to the ground. Carlos arrived and threw a nasty punch across the man's face. It was incredible to watch him take on the adults on his own and win the fight in the end. He was injured but he managed to sigh and crouch down to you, checking if you're okay.

"I'm fine, thanks Carlos"

"Ay, you absolute moron. You shouldn't have wandered on your own like that!"

"...Sorry"

"Next time, if you need me, don't stay quiet, shout for my name"

"Carlos!"

You screamed. There was a long pause until the thugs began sharing a laugh when nothing happens. One of them began mocking you.

"Nobody's gonna fucking help yo-ARRRG!"

He was cut off when you see Carlos throwing his fist to his face. It didn't take long for a messy fist fight to break out, you take your cue to get on your feet and run to find Camilo. Fortunately, you meet Camilo near the block, he was badly hurt.

"Camilo! Carlos needs help!"

"Oh fuck!"

He panics as the two of you began running. Both of you couldn't find any help until you found a random car parked by the side of the road, Camilo looks over to you, pleading for you to not do what he thinks you're thinking.

"Camilo, do you want to lose a brother?"

"Shit, fine! Just fucking do it and hurry!"

Camilo gives in. You sprint to the car and began picking on the lock, a few long seconds pass as you managed to unlock the car and get inside. Camilo runs to you as you began to hotwire the car, he was surprised when the car's engine starts to roar successfully. He knew well he was in for a ride as he buckles on his seatbelt and let you drive.

Meanwhile, Carlos was on the verge of getting ripped to shreds by the thugs, he hated how outnumbered he was right now. His lip was cut, he's got a sprain and his nose was bleeding. All of a sudden, he hears a car honking in the distance. He turned and his jaw dropped.

"No fucking way..."

"¡Oye cabrón! Get out of the way!"

Camilo screamed as his twin jumps to the side. Carlos watched as you crashed the car into the thugs, they were toppled over the windshield and horribly injured. You stop the car and roll the window down.

"Hurry! Get in!"

Carlos smirked as he opens the backseat and climbs into the car. You pull on the reverse and swiftly drove away, escaping. The three of you sighed inside the vehicle.

"You barely made it in time before one of those assholes knocked me out"

"Okay wow, Carlos. You're welcome"

You laugh as the twin brothers began bickering, totally suffering from a few cuts and bleeds but they still have the energy to cuss each other out. It was a while until you find a discreet area and parked the car. You killed the engine and exhaled heavily on your seat, you rubbed your face and looked at your best friends. They gave you a worried look.

"What now?"

"[Name], you just fucking stole a car!"

"What am I supposed to do?!"

"Call for help! Dios mio, I get that you're an expert on stealing shit but this was unnecessary!"

"¡Cállate, Carlos!"

Camilo shushed his brother, Carlos bites his lip in regret when he saw your teary eyes. He gestures for you to crawl into the backseat with him, and you obliged and sat right beside him. Camilo scurries to the backseat as well. Eventually, the twins began to trap you in their arms as you sobbed.

"...I'm sorry"

"It's fine, Carlos"

"Can we get pizza? I'm starving"

You let out a laugh at Camilo, he grins at you. Carlos rolls his eyes but lets an endearing smile show on his face and watched you two. The three of you were a team, no one is able to separate you three. It's always and forever you, Camilo, and Carlos.

"Police! Step out of the vehicle!"

A man shouts from outside the car. The three of you broke the embrace and noticed a few police cars parked outside. You give the twins a terrified look. Camilo and Carlos panicked and looked at each other, they nodded in unison. It took a moment for you to realize, so you grabbed them before they can exit the car.

"No no no no...don't do it!"

"[Name]-"

"Don't fucking do it!"

"[Name] please we-"

"Please don't leave me!"

You went hysterical, tears were violently streaming down your tears as you hold unto them tighter. Camilo's breath hitches but fights back a sob, Carlos looks away. You couldn't stand the thought of your best friends getting arrested and the possibility of not seeing each other again. It seems like the fates are cruel to you because the brothers turned away and stepped out of the vehicle.

"NO! PLEASE NO!"

Carlos shuts the door behind him and blocked it, pretending to not hear your screaming within. The police pointed their gun at him and Camilo as they cautiously surround him. Carlos glared at the officers.

"Hands in the air where we can see them"

Camilo clicks his tongue and obeys. Never in his life did he imagine that this scenario would happen. He lets one of the officers put a handcuff on him, he looked over at Carlos, his twin had a scowl on his face. All of a sudden, Carlos meets Camilo in the eye and broke into a sprint.

"Get him!"

One of the officers shouted. Camilo watched his twin brother running into the distance without an explanation. All of a sudden, his eyes go wide.

"Fuck! No! Carlos get back here!"

"Come with me"

An officer drags him to the nearest police car, Camilo starts to squirm as the officer tries to restrain him.

"You have to get him! He's with us! ¡Mierda!"

Camilo pleaded as he was shoved into the police car. He couldn't believe it, Carlos fucking ditched him! Why did he fucking do it? When he thought things weren't worse enough, the police found you hiding in the car and finally gets you restrained. Camilo's eyes watched in horror as you were taken away into a separate police car.

"No! NO! [Name]! Please don't take them away!"

He begged and banged on the car window to get the officer's attention. You sobbed uncontrollably as the police put handcuffs on you and transferred you to the police car, you catch Camilo's teary eyes.

"Camilo! Please help me! 'Milo don't-"

You were abruptly cut off when the officer pushed you into the car and locks the door. Camilo was forced to see the vehicle you're in, driving away out of his sight. He screamed in the backseat and broke into a sob. He was punching the car window with tears streaming down his face. Eventually, the car starts to move and took him away as well. Aren't you guys supposed to be a team?

taglist: @vanevafu , @irisia-ckzkb1109 , @elegantkidfansoul , @candykamikun , @cahmilo , @pochi-moochika , @justzei , @try-cry-why-try , @nanaisheretomessupthings ...join here

masterlist

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Bad Dreams - Bucky Barnes x Avenger (f)reader

Summary: You and Bucky are adjusting to civilian life after the Blip, some nights he needs you more then he realizes.

Warning: bit o angst, soft Bucky, fluff

Masterlist

It had been a long fucking five years alone, sure you had Nat and Steve around at the Avengers Facility. But no matter how much time you spent with them doing whatever to keep your mind busy, at the end of the day, you were undoubtedly alone. You liked it that way at one point in your complicated life as an Avenger, but after the blip, you absolutely despised it. 

No one had expected what would have happened to be so terrible and tragic, or it to even go the way that it did. You had never even heard of Thanos or what the fuck kind of weirdass monsters could exist from other parts of the galaxy until they showed up knocking. How rude huh.

Life was peaceful before hand, well for the most part; you were an Avenger, someone who was part of the team. A conjurer of flame and ash, a Phoenix held within that was not afraid to use your power, and you used it well.

Then as per usual, shit went down and low and behold you met the one and only James Buchanan Barnes, Steve’s old friend with the metal arm and troubling history. Not to mention a face to die for, or at least one that would cause a bit of a chaotic scuffle between your two friends. They clearly had other priorities apart from yours at the time which was keep Steve out of jail, don’t burn anyone, and refrain from flirting with his 90 something year old friend. You tried your best in most of those areas. Most of them. 

Nonetheless, you fell hard and fast for the blue eyed man, and him the same for you, his feisty little firecracker with a heart as big and bright as a dragons. So when he went to Wakanda to lie low and get some much needed help. You followed.

With a heartfelt goodbye and a lasting kiss, he went under for a couple long weeks until Shuri and her expert team of scientists were able to fix what those bastards at Hydra had done to him.

For a short yet blessedly peaceful amount of time did you and your dark haired lover live safely within the Wakandan borders. In a small and beautiful little village by a lake, a hut all your own to shelter you from the heat and rain that poured hard onto the earth, and most wonderfully of all you had Bucky.

Life was simple for the first time in a long time, you spent the days helping out the locals and teaching the children how to properly swing a stick in defense, you know completely normal leisure activities. Spending the evenings making a big fire to tell stories under and cook the best food in Wakanda.

And the nights? You spent those wrapped up in Bucky’s arm, although most times you would be the big spoon which he loved more then anything in the whole world. Telling you it’s not just because you’re naturally warm, but that he’s been admittedly a bit touch starved from the years alone and lost. And for that you would always hold him closer.

Then that fateful day came crashing into your lives like a waterfall against rock, your friends had shown up claiming some being called Thanos was coming to take a stone out of Vision’s head. Yeah that was a new one.

The battle wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t great either, you were able to save many lives by scorching the beasts that pursed onward. Letting whips of flame slash hard against the enemy with great skill and force from your bending. Then the world seemed to still, and the wind swayed the trees oddly.

Then HE came, the Titan from another world, he threw down all in his path without an ounce of mercy or remorse. You and Wanda were so close, so damn close to stopping him, but then he threw you back with the whole force of the gauntlet and a moment later Vision was dead.

Your head was bleeding and a fresh scar had marked your jaw in a bloody red slash from the impact. Though your mind didn’t have time to register nor care as Thanos abruptly disappeared into oblivion, leaving a confused Thor in his wake. Much like the rest of the Avengers.

Then to your horror, one by one, your friends began to turn to ash and dust. Gone. You raced for Bucky nearby, praying to who’d ever listen to spare him or you for that matter. You just needed ten more seconds and then you could have held him one last time, touched his precious skin, ran your fingers through his long dark locks.

Looked into his ocean blue eyes, but no, the universe laughed as you gasped in panic, then it snickered as you screamed. Cheering you on as you sobbed in a cyclone of your own fire until the ground was scorched to shriveled dry earth. And no more tears could fall, your throat raw and heart broken in two.

Your world was gone, a memory forever kept locked inside your heart and soul. He was gone, he was your world, Bucky made your life better and you his.

For the coming months you were a mess, an angry and frustrated wreck of a person. Functioning by sheer will power and Natasha to keep you afloat in your new dreary little world of nothingness. You envied Steve for his ability to keep most of his shit together, and where almost enraged by Tony who had everything still intact. Pepper and a child on the way, how cruel the universe appeared.

You would wake up in the middle of the night sweating, your heart racing a mile a minute and usually part of the wall behind you would be burnt and blackened. You never set fire to anything thank god, but fuck, your heart hurt so much.

You wanted to scream most days, but as one year rolled into two and then three, the dull dreary ache in your body subdued to a tiny flicker of sadness. It became almost nonexistent during the day as you went about Avenger business, only to burn hot and angry at night.

You wanted to move on and forget, but you couldn’t, he was too important. They all didn’t deserve to go like that, none of them. And so another year passed, then it was year five since the blip, more months passed on. Until out of nowhere something or perhaps someone miraculous lit the way into a new sense of hope.

Resulting in the return of everyone who had been lost before, including your Bucky. And from that moment after the battle, when at long last you had finally found him, you knew life would never be the same.

——

Rain pours relentlessly from outside your apartment window, a rhythmic pitter patter near your bedside that aids in keeping you asleep and unbothered for the time being. No sooner do you reach the climax of your dream that consists of you being chased by a giant monarch butterfly with no weapon but a sandbox plastic shovel, do you wake. Strange dream.

All your senses flooding back into you as you feel for your lover in the darkness, your eyes still closed as you do so. Your hand slides across the crinkled bedsheets to no avail, the spot next to you is undeniably empty and rather cold.

oh, Bucky.

Cracking one eye open you glance at the alarm clock where it reads 1:10am in big red letters, illuminating the nightstand that it sits on. You take in a deep breath and roll onto your back to stare up at the ceiling, this has become a reoccurring event with Bucky in the following months since his return.

In Wakanda things were different, it was like a nice prolonged vacation away from all your problems and responsibilities of the world. Now, you two have an apartment somewhere in New York City all your own. Bucky goes to therapy and does his best to integrate back into his new role as a civilian while you work as an Avenger part time. The other half used for being a supporting loving girlfriend to Bucky and a hacker on the side for extra cash in the bank.

You get it though, he’s adjusting the best he’s able to manage right now, and even when he swears the nightmares are gone for good. You know him too well to believe that shit, you can see it in his eyes, he may have been a master assassin at one point. Now he’s with a skilled and almost equally as weathered Avenger who’s seen her share of people really going through it.

It’s not like you were doing any better, you’d wake up screaming in the dead of night from another nightmare involving losing Bucky again. That only lasted for a month or so, but still, it sucked and hurt every damn time. So you get it, nightmares can be a bitch.

Blinking the bleariness out of your eyes, you yawn into the darkness and take a moment to listen to the sound of the rain. It’s peaceful and calm, and though you’d like nothing more then to roll over and fall back into the dark comfortable void of sleep. You long to see Bucky again, even if you saw him not even two hours ago.

Pulling the blanket off of your body, you slowly sit up and face the blurry window that overlooks the glowing city, well more so the park close by. Pushing some hair out of your face, you stand and take a brief moment to stretch before letting your right hand emit a beautiful blue flame.

It proptly lights up the dark room into a shadowed yet still visible one, with a lazy proud smile, you move for the opened bedroom door. Your flame lights the way down the hall until you wander past the tiny kitchen and stop in your living room to the sound of heavy breathing coming from the far end.

You give a lopsided smirk to no one in particular as you pad over to the man who’s sweaty and shirtless on the wooden apartment floor in nothing but his boxers and a single blanket that’s not covering much. Well he sure looks like a hot mess, your hot mess that is.

He gives you an apologetic glance before staring tiredly back at the nearby wall. You extinguish your flame and gently nudge his leg with your sock, “How’s the floor?” You ask with a tinge of humor to lighten the mood.

He lets out a breathy laugh before looking back up at you, “Solid.” Quips Bucky in reference to the hard floor and perhaps his take on the makeshift bed, always one for a bit of humor huh.

Chuckling you crouch down to better meet his shadowed gaze, “I guess so,” You mutter with a shrug, “....afraid I might burn you in my sleep?”

Shaking his head, he gifts you the flash of a smile, “No. Not this time Y/N.”

You smile back before sitting down next to him, you look down at his hand before reaching out to take it without any resistance, “I know it’s the nightmares Bucky.” You whisper softly, your eyes sincere and true, “You don’t have to hold it all in okay, I don’t.....I don’t want you to do that.”

Letting out a reluctant sigh, Bucky frowns, “I know Y/N....I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, I just love you too much to see you hurting. I’ve missed you for what feels like a hundred goddamn years and I don’t want you to slip away from me..” You add with a sad smile, “Never again.”

Squeezing your hand gently, Bucky nods, “You’re not going to lose me okay. I promise you that much alright. I love you Y/N.” And he means every word.

“That’s good then. Can you at least tell me something to ease your mind from what’s bothering you?” You ask with a hopeful smile, “Please. Remember what the therapist talked about with speaking your thoughts and feelings....it’s like emptying a treasure chest or some shit.”

“Right.” Laughs Bucky, “Can’t say you’re going to find any gold in here.”

“Shut up I don’t care.” You muse with a shrug, “I’m here to listen.”

“As the lady wishes.” Retorts Bucky with a half-assed bow that caused you to break out into a small smile at his cheekiness.

“Wait.” You pause.

“What?”

“Can we sit on the couch for this I wanna lay next to you.”

Rolling his eyes, Bucky fakes his annoyance as you patiently await his answer, “Fine.” He confirms, quickly standing up and taking you with him, “But you gotta lay on me I’m kinda cold now.”

Bucky falls onto the large comfortable couch with a dramatic huff as he pulls you onto his shirtless body, “Weren’t you just all sweaty?” You wonder with a raised brow as he quickly wraps his arms around your waist.

“Yep.”

“Gross.”

Bucky chuckles, “Well you’re making me talk about my feelings.”

“That’s because you won’t talk about them with your actual therapist.” You sass back.

“I hate it when you’re right.” Mutters Bucky into your cheek as you snicker at his adorably dramatic self.

“I think your brain short circuited and misplaced the word hate for absolutely love and adore.”

“Maybe.” Adds Bucky as he steals a sweet kiss, “I’m still working through things you know.”

“Okay smartass. Now tell me what’s on your mind.”

His chest rises as he takes a deep heavy sigh, he stares out the nearby window that keeps the rainy city from being bothersome. You can’t completely see his face due to the darkened room, but you’re close enough to see the way his face turns into a frown.

Suddenly you think maybe you shouldn’t have bugged him to speak about his nightmares. Until he purses his lips together and glances those big beautiful blue eyes down at you, the flash of a smile revealing itself in a split second.

To give him a bit more confidence and perhaps to calm his nerves, do you reach a hand up to gently caress his stubbled cheek, “Was it the Starks again?” You whisper softly in question, knowing how much it still haunts him. Among all the others.

Closing his eyes, he leans into your touch, “Not this time.” Mutters Bucky before taking that hand in his as he rests his head against the couches puffy arm. “Someone else.....Someone who got in the way. Wrong place wrong time.”

“oh.” Slips from your mouth quietly, you’re not sure what else to say, but you’re still hoping he’ll speak a little more about it. “Do they have anything to do with your list?”

It’s a shot in the dark, but you’re well aware of Bucky’s goal to make amends with his past and the people tied with it, maybe someone might be linked to it by chance.

Bucky takes another weighted breath, you can just sense how terrible he feels about this person. “Bucky take your time, it’s okay I’m right here.”

Looking for a positive sign you watch as he closes his eyes once again before moving his head a little bit so that it rests against yours, “I know....it’s just, difficult.”

“Always is.”

“Yeah.”

Kissing your forehead, his flesh arm wraps around your waist as he makes himself more comfortable before continuing, “I was in some government building at night.....tasked with eliminating some special high end target. I finished the mission in under a minute, but uh....there was a civilian who saw everything.”

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah.” Mumbles Bucky against your skin as he takes a moment to gather himself, soon he shifts underneath you once more before letting out a soft breath, “I shot him.”

A bang of sadness washes over you in that brief second and then a sparking anger for what Hydra had forced him to do. You keep silent and wait for Bucky to continue on with his story.

“That guy I killed. He um....he uh, he didn’t deserve that....but I had to.” Bucky’s voice is shaky as he puts his words together, “And you know what’s the worst about this?”

“I’d like not to imagine it but I know you should tell me.”

“You remember Yori?”

“Of course, he takes us to that great sushi place sometimes.”

Bucky squeezes his eyes shut as he hugs you tighter against his bare chest for some kind of comfort, his voice nothing but a regretful whisper, “I killed his son.”

Your eyes soften as he reveals who this mystery civilian was, “Damn.”

“Out of all the people in this world and I meet the man who’s son I murdered for Hydra.”

“That’s almost a sick joke.”

“I know. God I’m so fucked up.”

“No.” You protest softly while he hides his face in your neck, “I know you’ve heard this a thousand times but that wasn’t you. It wasn’t the real James Buchanan Barnes alright, you didn’t have a choice. Those fuckers took that away from you.”

“I know Y/N, but I still did it.”

“Bucky look at me.” You ask kindly, to your genuine surprise he lifts his head from your neck to look into your determined gaze, “You’re not the only one here who was manipulated and had their freedom taken from them by Hydra. I’ve done terrible things too, but you know what? We were never truly ourselves then, they molded us into their weapons and now.....they can never touch us again. You understand me?”

Tears whell up in Bucky’s shimmering eyes at your truthfully honest words, he had temporarily forgotten that you were once an unwilling participant in Hydra’s mind stone experimentations many years ago.

“I understand....” Mutters Bucky as he swallows hard, “what would I be without you?”

Giving him a small tearful smile, you gently wipe away a stray tear from his cheek, “A little bit more alone I’d say.”

“You’re a hundred times braver then me you know that? I couldn’t image five years without you and these fucking nightmares.” Admits Bucky as he moves to rest his head in the crook of your neck, “I’d go insane.”

Appreciating this close proximity and his heartfelt confession, you smile into the darkness, “I think I did. Thing is about shitty situations like that....life moves on and finds a way. I have you now, I thought I would lose you forever.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Me too.”

[inglorious-purpose]

Loki has a heart

I find it baffling when people claim that Loki “learned to care about others” in the show, or that he suddenly developed a heart and conscience after sidekicking with Mobius and Sylvie. I mean, even if you forget everything from Thor1 -- in which his whole deal is trying to prove his loyalty and love to Odin and Frigga, while simultaneously having a breakdown over the realization that he belongs to a species that his brother has sworn to exterminate -- even if you forget all this, there is plenty of indication within the show itself that Loki cares about others. His speedy character development in episode 1 is predicated on the notion that he cares dearly about his family. He’s shattered when he watches Frigga die, because he cares about her. Mobius is able to give him the world’s biggest guilt trip -- “you lead them right to her!” (a goddam lie) -- precisely because Loki has a conscience. He’s touched when he sees Odin and Thor express their love for his future self, because he cares about them. He cries when he reads about Ragnarok because he cares about Asgard. He fucking cares, ok? He cared from the beginning. Caring is not a new thing for Loki.

Furthermore, even if we were to assume that Loki starts out as a cold-hearted brute, it’s hard to imagine how he could possibly learn compassion from Mobius and Sylvie, neither of whom is exactly a paragon of loving-kindness. Mobius may be nice at times, but he’s a pragmatic, ends-justify-the-means kind of guy. We do see his mushy side, e.g. when he chides a TVA agent for being too rough with the refugees in Roxxcart, but he doesn’t seem to have any qualms about tossing Loki into a time-loop torture chamber. As for Sylvie, she doesn’t say a single kind word to Loki, although she does give him A Look on occasion, and she touched his arm gently at one point, so there’s that.

What Loki does learn is how to let himself be vulnerable in front of others, to let down his guard and reveal the softness underneath his crusty, prickly exterior. After the revelation in Thor1 that he’s been lied to his entire life, he’s finally learning to trust again and forge connections with other people. (One may question whether Mobius and Sylvie deserve his trust, but let’s not open that particular can of worms right now.) He calls Mobius a friend and gives him a hug; he cries in front of Sylvie while begging her to consider the consequences of her actions. One might think that the physical and emotional humiliation Loki has endured throughout the show would have forced him deeper into his protective shell, but instead Loki does the opposite, opening himself sincerely to the people he cares for. In fact, he’s so eager for affection, so relentlessly forgiving, that he seems to be in danger of regressing back to his needy younger self, desperately seeking validation and approval from others. He’s still defining his worthiness in terms of other people’s expectations, instead of drawing on his own internal strength to figure out who he wants to be. In a sense, he’s back to square one, and we may wonder what he’s really gained from his trials.

So when Sylvie rejects him and blasts him through the time door (since when is she able to use magic anyway?), and Mobius doesn’t recognize him, his profound loss seems especially cruel. Loki’s always had a heart; it’s just been broken too many times.

[plant-flwrs]

ruined parties // older brother draco (implied fred weasley)

masterlist!

a/n: i didn't know how to label this without it looking like an incest fic and I just want everyone to know it is most definitely not an incest fic and I don't know how to make it look better why is this my life

i just saw this in my inbox unreasonably late and I loved it sm so I wrote this little overprotective big brother draco fic :) I wanted to thank @gaycatlord-stuff for the message and the meme because I loved it sm and it rly got the juices in my sahara desert brain flowing.

summary: Draco is a relentlessly overprotective brother who ruins all romantic opportunities for you.

(2k)

-----

Sometimes, you wondered how different your life would be as a muggle. You wondered if your wealthy parents would have shoved you off to a nanny rather than house-elves; if you would have gone to a muggle boarding school and studied classic literature for an actual class and not just for fun, which Draco loved to remind you was one of the weirder things about you; if you would have learned to do laundry and wash the dishes and comb your hair without the brush levitating with a flick of your wand.

You wondered, most of all, how Draco would manage to beat up all the boys who showed interest in you as you grew up.

Draco went through his phases of the ways in which he would 'protect' you. He had really enjoyed the bat-bogey hex for a while in your first year. In second year and most of third year, he went with the safe option of the jelly-legs jinx. By fourth year he had matured to more advanced methods of transfiguration. He had managed to turn Michael Corner into a raccoon for at least a whole day when Michael had offered to carry your bag for you in the hall.

Fifth year was bad. He had been taken in by Snape, who offered him a number of tips and tricks in the world of dark magic. You insisted Draco didn't need dark magic, and he insisted that you mind your own business.

Draco was irritable and nearly unbearable by sixth year. He hovered over you like a vulture, sending glares to anyone who even looked at you. Your friends started calling him Bloody Mary because he was always haunting over your shoulder. You knew it was because your parents were putting a lot of pressure on him and his crush on Harry Potter was becoming inhumanely large, but still. It was annoying.

It was even more annoying when Draco seemed to have met a suitable match in Fred Weasley.

You had a bit of a liking for muggle things. The school year was your only chance to inhabit this hobby, with your father removing all your muggle posters from your room the second you left for the train. You took Muggle Studies and begged Dumbledore not to tell your parents. You had mostly muggle-born or half-blood friends, which you also told your parents nothing about. Draco found this all the more reason to 'protect' you.

"You ought to dye your hair," you gritted out, sulking over your breakfast and resisting the urge to kick Draco's shin under the table.

Draco didn't respond, shoveling beans into his mouth with an unamused look.

"Seriously," you continued. "Your hair doesn't match your energy. Black would be very striking. You and your boyfriend would be matching."

Draco kicked your shin under the table, making you regret not taking your chance earlier. Harry was a sore spot for Draco, but Draco had just done a wandless spell on Ernest Macmillan before he could ask you to Hogsmeade, and he deserved it.

"What are you reading?" He grunted, offering an unspoken truce he knew you would take.

You shielded the cover, "Killing your brother 101. Enlightening."

"How far into it are you?"

"Almost done. I'd prepare yourself if I were you."

Draco hummed, unfazed by your murderous threats.

"You finish the notes for Charms?" you shut your book, stealing a piece of cantaloupe from Draco's plate.

"Yes," Draco looked at you eating the stolen fruit unapprovingly, pulling some sort of older brother superiority with just one look at you. Infuriating.

"What's the time?" You abandoned the Charms notes, no longer willing to admit you didn't do them.

"Just past 7," Draco pushed his plate away from him, standing and straightening his tie.

"See you at dinner," you began putting your things away and Draco mumbled a goodbye, setting off for his own classes. You were just shoveling the last of the beans he left on his plate into your mouth when a foreign group of bodies were across from you in your peripheral.

You lifted your head, hunched over the beans and still chewing, to see Fred, George, and Lee.

You squinted, chewing slowly and leaning back as to avoid any sort of tripwire for a prank.

"Malfoy," Fred said pleasantly, which was not how people usually said your last name.

"Big brother leave you by your lonesome?" Lee added, also not taking the cruel tone most would when talking about your brother.

This was odd.

"What do you want?" you swallowed your food, eyeing them suspiciously.

"I thought she was meant to be the better of them," George stage-whispered to Lee.

"We are here to formally invite you to a party we are hosting," Fred continued, unperturbed.

Lee and George watched you, waiting for your reaction.

"Alright," you agreed and stood, joining your friends in the hall to walk to class.

"That was easier than I expected," Lee said cheerfully, visibly relieved now that he was not in your presence.

"I told you," Fred puffed his chest out confidently and place his hands on the table as he stood, "Without Draco around, she's perfect."

-

The party was in full swing and Draco was drunk. With one guess, you would have to assume it had something to do with the way Harry kept offering to top off his glass, his hand hovering on the small of Draco's back as they talked into each other's ears.

Drunk Draco was a luxury you were not often afforded. Drunk Draco meant living a life of your own, doing things without his watchful eye.

So you also got drunk. Your friends used the term 'waisted' the next morning, but we will say 'drunk' for maturity purposes. And drunk you got!

Fred was always suspiciously close to you, and suspiciously nice once you thought harder on it. You tried not to leave any drink unguarded while he hovered and stayed with friends as often as possible.

You eventually found yourself on a large leather couch in the center of the room. Ron was next to you, stoned out of his mind, and digging around in the pocket of his flannel for more rolling papers. On the other side of you, Luna's head rolled around her neck, falling onto your shoulder and the couch and finally landing on Ginny's lap when she passed out. You watched Ginny stroke her hair, occasionally tracing a line down her nose. Sighing, you accepted the blunt when Ron finally passed it your way.

You were passing it back, sufficiently stoned out of your gourd, when it was plucked from your hands. You thought you had dropped it, jolting back and looking around frantically until you saw those awful, bony, white fingers dangling the now soggy blunt in front of your face.

"C'mon!" Ron groaned, face twisting through the stages of grief as he saw his ruined creation.

"Pot?" Draco said as if he were 40 and with a mortgage.

"Pot," you replied as if you were 17 and at a party.

One of you had an accurate hold on reality. The other held a soggy blunt.

Ron took the soggy blunt and attempted to salvage it, sinking down to his knees to work on the coffee table in front of you. Draco took his seat and set his drink on the table to his side. He didn't drink from it, presumably because of a blunt that had been swimming in it for a moment.

"I thought you were with Harry," you said slowly, torn between wanting to hurt Draco if something had gone badly with Harry and actually wanting to know why he wasn't still with him.

"Yeah, he went up to bed," Draco answered, not sounding pitiful and mournful like he had a habit of sounding after interacting with Harry.

"He didn't take you with him?" you slurred, leaning into Draco's strong and seemingly sober shoulder.

"Shut up," he chuckled, wrapping an arm around your side and hauling you off the couch. You reached into his pocket, finding some loose bills you knew would be there, and slipped them to Ron as compensation before you left.

You felt accomplished, drunk and high, leaving a party after a fun time. It was also a highlight to have given Ron Weasley Draco's drug money.

-

As per usual, you didn't have a date for Hogsmeade. Your friends were all in Madam Puddifoot's with their dates, gazing over the table at each other like lovesick puppies. Draco currently had you in a headlock while he rubbed his knuckles into the top of your head.

You shoved your heal into his foot, making him release you.

You both returned to your drinks with slightly labored breaths and scowls.

Draco was upset because Harry wasn't at Hogsmeade and you were upset because you were in Hogsmeade with Draco. You would have fallen at his knees and begged him to release you from the chains of this sibling dynamic if he weren't the one buying lunch today.

You ate, still scowling, and walked around scowling, and returned to Hogwarts scowling. You hugged each other, scowling, before bed and went to your respective dorms.

-

It was hot and there was no wind. Really, absolutely no wind. The water on the black lake was eerily reflective and the trees were unmoving.

You were walking with some friends, charmed fans moving around you as they blew cold air in your faces. You were returning from Hogsmeade with ice cream, very happy from the outing without Draco.

Regretfully, Draco did not seem to be as happy.

Stepping into the courtyard, you felt a drop of your ice cream land on your hand, sticky and cold and messy, and at the same time, you saw Draco hurl himself at Fred Weasley.

Fred sprawled across the courtyard, landing on some poorly transfigured pillows that you guessed were the product of George's wandless magic. His head was cushioned from what would have been a nasty hit on the stone. He squirmed under Draco, long arms and legs flailing against the steady weight Draco was putting on him.

You watched Lee and George leaning against a wall, presumably letting Fred fight this battle on his own.

You decided to do something similar.

You watched as Fred wrangled himself free, both boys tripping over the pillows until George vanished them. In the free space, they circled each other with their hands raised. It was funny to see two pure-blood wizards fighting so viciously without a hint of magic.

Draco took a step forward with his left foot, tricking Fred out to lunge at him from the right. He had Fred's leg and then Fred was on the ground again, grunting in pain. Draco flipped him and pinned him, knee resting on Fred's back and hands holding his arms together. Deciding Draco had enough fun, you walked over.

"Fight Club?" you offered, quirking an eyebrow.

"Did you go to Hogsmeade?" Draco ignored you, panting slightly. Up close you saw he had a nasty bruise on his cheekbone and some blood coming from his nose. Fred must have gotten a few hits in.

"Yeah," you licked your ice cream, "bloody scorching out."

"Hm," Draco hummed, adjusting his grip on Fred's arm and causing Fred to yelp in pain.

"How are you?" you asked politely.

"Alright. You?"

"Alright."

Draco nodded.

"So, what's this about?"

"He said he was going to prank you," Draco said, shrugging and adjusting Fred's arm again on purpose.

You gasped in faux shock, crouching down to look at Fred.

"A prank?" you asked him, smirking.

"No!" Fred yelped when he tried to move his arms.

You looked to Draco, whose eyebrows were furrowed. "I heard you! You said you were going to take her out!"

"Draco."

"Draco!" Fred yelped, finally getting his arms loose and crawling from underneath Draco's grasp.

"Oh my fucking god."

"Merlin," Fred mumbled, looking at your face and then Draco's guilty expression.

"Oh," Draco said simply, head tilting as he added up the moment's events in his head.

"Oh my fucking god," you repeated.

Draco got his feet under him.

"Oh my fucking god!" you hurled your ice cream cone at his back, hitting him hard as he ran. You chased him, narrowly avoiding the trail of melted strawberry ice cream he was leaving through the halls.

[shorkbrian]

Stretch and Relax

hello I’m here with some Horny Victor Thots (especially thinkin about like that scene where he wants to sleep with Yuri that first night but Yuri’s too shy hurr hurr)

Really vibing with like, reach around masturbation.

(Gender neutral reader yayyyy)

(Warnings - coercion, dub-con. Reader’s too shy to say no but they don’t like what’s going on. Victor just bulldozes past that. fingering, overstimulation, NSFW)

Victor knows how to handle shy little things. He just keeps pushing and pushing and pushing until they do whatever he wants. He knows his confidence can be intimidating, and that it can be used as a tool to make cute, trembling little messes like yourself let him do whatever he wants.

It’s easy for him to get you pressed back-to-chest with him, the man able to look over your shoulder. 

“You need to stretch, it’s good for you! Look at how stressed you are, it’ll release tension!” he tells you when you try to squirm away. Two quick hands on your thighs keep you anchored against him.

Victor uses his hold on your legs to slowly eases them open, hooking them up and over his own legs, pulling back so you’re exposed and open to the world. You’re just in your bedroom though, no need to be shy!

In no time he’s got his hand down your shorts, petting over your underwear, murmuring in your ear about relaxing and how it’s normal for friends to help each other out like this. It’s okay, you trust him don’t you?

And you do, or you did, so you let him touch you while your face burns and you hide it with your hands.

Victor knows the gentle petting probably feels nice, but he wants to make you feel amazing. He was being serious when he said you looked stressed! He also wants to know how you feel inside.

So he creeps his long fingers beneath your underwear, smiles at the way you gasp when they come into direct contact with your flesh. He starts rubbing and stroking, when you begin to leak he swipes up your wetness with his fingers, uses that to help him wiggle and smooth his fingers into every place he can reach.

And you’re squirming in his lap, unable to close your legs, whimpering out please and stop and it’s too much.

“But that just makes it all the better, no?”

Victor kisses your neck, letting his free hand reach around your chest to play with your nipples, squeeze your flesh, tease and grope whatever he can grab with his hands.

You arch into him as you cum, just from a little bit of heavy petting - he barely even touched you.

Victor’s giggling, nuzzling into your neck. ���Mm, I bet that felt so nice. And I hardly did anything! You’re so perfect.”

He keeps touching you, even though you whine and try to push his hands away. You might be strong, but he’s stronger, and he’s more coordinated with his limbs. Plus, the way he has you situated against him makes it easy to keep you pinned.

The way you keep writhing makes his dick twitch, already hard as a rock from the very first second he touched you. 

The man uses your cum to get his fingers nice and wet, all slick. It makes it easier to push them inside you, especially with the way you’re clenching, so tight and clenching like you want to break his first finger when he tentatively pushes into you. 

One finger turns into two, and then you’re crying, overstimulated, overwhelmed. Victor keeps going though - you’re flushed and you look divine like this, and right now, he doesn’t care if you notice how he’s slowly rocking his hips against your back. You probably couldn’t notice even if you tried, considering that you’re fucked out in his lap from just a few little touches. Victor thinks that’s so hot.

The pads of his fingers stroke at your insides, you’re burning inside, and you feel like velvet, and Victor can’t stop himself from groaning. His fingers skirt over a spot when he adjusts the position of his arm, and you tense up in his hold, eyes fluttering shut, mouth dropping open amidst your cries to wait, oh please wait!  

“Ah, looks like I found something fun~” Victor sings.

He probs at that spot again, and you jerk. 

“Oh fuck, wait, wait wait wait! It’s - I -! Too much, oh god, oh gOD!” You whine, the feeling of his fingers massaging that spot inside you relentlessly making you cream and gush and leak. 

Victor can tell it’s too much, he’s not blind. But he likes this look on you - this sweaty, dopey, pleasure-drunk look. So he continues to work with his fingers, abusing your insides, shifting and stroking and drawing little circles and then you’re humming for the second time, hunching forward. 

He almost laughs as you do so, because you shoot straight back up. Hunching like that only intensified the feeling, and it’s too much, it’s too much, it’s too much!

You’re a babbling mess, and Victor is loving it. You’ll be so relaxed by the time he’s done, he could probably even cuddle with you on your bed after he helps you clean up. 

His fingers haven’t stopped, practically milking the pleasure out of you, and you’re thrashing now, begging, pleading for him to let you up. He doesn’t

“But you’re feeling so good sweetie pie, I shouldn’t stop, it’d be cruel!”

The sounds feel so weird in his mouth, and he wishes he could coo to you in his mother tongue, but he knows it makes you uncomfortable when you don’t know what he’s saying. Victor will settle for praising you in ways you can recognize, for now at least.

“One more, yes? And then we can stop.”

You seem comforted (or at least resigned) by that, and slowly stop thrashing. Victor slowly eases his fingers out of you, sighing into your ear as he feels the way you clench so tightly around his slender digits - you want to keep him inside, your body’s sucking him back in so tightly. He tries not to think about how that would feel around his dick - he’s not an inexperienced man who’ll cum from a touch, but he’s beginning to feel like a sensitive little virgin again.

But he knows that it might be painful (for both you and him, his arm is beginning to cramp) if he continues to finger you, so he’ll make you cum one last time in the same way he pulled your first orgasm from you.

You keen as he finds a sensitive spot, buck away from his touch but he follows you.

“No more, no more - Victor, Victor please.”

“Shh shh shh-” He shushes, fingers still gliding over that sensitive spot “Just one more.” The man comforts.

And then-oh-you get determined. Determined to cum, determined to finish so that you can finally rest. 

You push into his hand, circling your hips, chasing after your orgasm so you can be done with all of this.

“Oh, mmh! Right-Right there!” You whimper, hands clutching at Victor’s thighs.

“Right here?” His voice is deep, throaty, heavy in your ear. He can feel your skin prickle with goosebumps.

Victor continues to fondle the spot he had just brushed over, quickly pinching at the skin just to hear you yelp before quickly massaging the tender flesh. You’re getting closer and closer, whining, keening, humping against his hand like a dog.

And then you crest, body shaking violently as you cum (almost painfully) for the third, and final time.

You’re quickly scrabbling at his hand, trying to pull it out of your shorts as he keeps touching you.

“Alright, I’ll play nice.” Victor laughs, finally withdrawing his wet, sticky hand from your shorts. 

“Messy messy.” He teases, holding his hand up and stretching his fingers apart in front of you both to show how your cum sticks and drips to his digits.

You’re crying, embarrassed, exhausted, and Victor clicks his tongue in sympathy.

“I know, sweet little thing. Here, just sit for a minute.”

You slump back against his chest, breath hitching. 

Victor can’t resist bringing his hand to his mouth, licking at his fingers, sucking them clean. You taste nice - maybe soon he can help you stretch and relax in other ways, ways that will end up with his mouth in-between your legs.

After you calm down, cries softening to little sniffles, Victor helps you up, guides you to the bathroom. He tries to convince you to let him shower with you (”You can barely stand, your legs are all jelly. Let me help, it’s only fair!”) but you almost start crying again, and he knows not to push his luck.

He doesn’t want to make you hate him, after all.

While you’re cleaning up, he quickly jacks off while sitting on your bed, groaning when he thinks of your little body trembling against his own as he forced you through orgasm after orgasm. 

Victor’s able to clean himself up before you step out of the shower.

You look exquisite like that - clean and fresh and glowy. You can’t seem to meet his eyes, but you’ve always been so shy, Victor knows it’s not anything personal.

He was right, earlier. You’re so tuckered out that you simply flop onto your bed, let Victor settle in beside you and pull the covers up over you both.

Yes, you flinch when he slings an arm over your waist, and you shuffle awkwardly when he presses close to you, cuddly and needy and affectionate. But he doesn’t mind. You’ll get used to him soon enough.

[dadsbongos]

Liebeskummer

Movie/Game/Show: Danganronpa: Killing Harmony Dynamic: Korekiyo Shinguji/Reader (and his sister shit but i actually take it seriously, unlike kodaka) Warnings: korekiyo’s backstory/trauma (his sister), sexual/physical/mental abuse implications (and outright said but not described in detail except the emotional and mental), anxiety in both kork and reader and mental breakdown(s?), airhead shit but it’s sad Summary: It’s all her fault. ~~~

Korekiyo suddenly turned to the girl beside him in his quiet research lab, “Have you ever heard of Jack of Fables, (Y/n)?” at her, albeit confused, nod, he continued, “Well, all those myths, fairy tales, and even nursery rhymes in reference to ‘Jack’ are actually about the same man. What this means is that Jack Be Nimble, of the candlestick, Jack the Giant Killer, who sold his cows then murdered and robbed a giant, Stingy Jack, who tricked the devil so relentlessly that he was banned from both afterlives, Jack of Jack and Jill, who cracked open his skull, Jack o’ Lantern, Spirit of Halloween and Headless Horseman, and Jack Frost, Spirit who ends autumn and begins winter are all one in the same. He made so many poor life decisions that he now serves as an immortal representation of winer with a pumpkin serving as head and flashlight. Is that not fascinating?”

“Aw,” (Y/n) grinned, nodding once again, “Like the American ‘Florida man’.”

Korekiyo sighed, disappointment palpable in his tone, “That is… actually much more accurate than I wish to admit.”

“Wait, wait,” she tilted her head, patting the man’s arm despite his attention already being on her, “So… like, was he also Jack the Ripper…?”

His eyes widened at her statement, “(Y/n), I must be grateful you were not born to the life of a woman of the night in Victorian London because I assure you, Jack the Ripper was incredibly real.”

“Oh, that’s so sad…” she pouted before clearing it back into her usual smile almost instantly, “Well, thanks for the folklore fun fact, Kiyo! I didn’t know that Jack was so dumb! God, I’d hate to be like him…”

“You do realize you’re not so bright yourself, yes?”

She shrugged, “I’m fine with that, but at least I’m not tricking the devil!”

So sweet and kind, the Ultimate Composer was. Against all expectations, she wasn’t highbrow or traditionally genius, but she was more than excellent company. And, to top it off, the idea of turning her into one of Sister’s friends was oddly… sickening.

It should’ve been perfectly fine - she was a deeply respectable young woman unlike Miu and Maki, there’s no reason he could have against her.

It just felt wrong.

“Oh! Oh!” she burst out, clapping her hands together, before turning and reaching into a bag slung around her hip. Rooting through scrapped sheet music and notes, once she found what she’d been searching for she held it up excitedly, “Boom!”

Korekiyo took the item, just barely brushing his wrapped fingertips against hers, “Cleopatra’s Pearl Cocktail… much appreciated,” he pressed the small bottle into a pocket on his uniform, “If you enjoy giving gifts, perhaps we can discuss cultural gift-giving practices?”

“Ooh, Kiyo’s gonna teach me?”

“Hmm,” Korekiyo hummed quietly to himself, “Well, perhaps… you would prefer I tell you of a composition piece in relevance to mythology, yes?”

“That’d be nice,” the girl giggled softly, rubbing the back of her neck, “To be honest, I just like when you talk… you sound so smart all the time!”

“My thanks, (Y/n),” he nodded curtly, muttering to himself before coming to speak up, “Alright, I believe that the composition for you would be The Ring of the Nibelung, of Germany.”

“Oh, I know that one!” she knew most ‘ones’, to be fair.

“I had suspected so, but have you heard of the heroic legends behind the pieces?”

“Ah, no… are those what you’re gonna explain?”

“I had planned to, yes. Alright, well, the four parts, as you know, are The Rhinegold, The Valkyrie, Siegfried, and Twilight of the Gods. Nowadays, they are most commonly played as individual, separate works despite making one complete story. They were always intended as a sequence - as The Ring cycle, cleverly. Each piece revolves on a loose basis to German heroic tales and Norse legendary sagas, with the overarching tale of the magic ring forged by the Nibelung dwarf, Alberich, which grants the power to rule the world,” he paused at the sight of (Y/n) yawning, his lips pursed and eyes shot down to his shoes before flickering back up to the girl, “Ah, my apologies for taking far longer than necessary. You must find this- “

“Ah, no!” (Y/n) shook her head, waving her hands about as though it would physically prove how far from needed his apology was, “That’s not it! I’m just kinda tired, ya know?” as if to prove her point, another yawn washed over her, “I hadn’t slept well last night after Kirumi…”

“I see,” Korekiyo nodded, closing his eyes to think over his words, “I apologize for making it about myself. If you wish, I could walk you to your dormitory. Now that you mention it, it has been quite the long day.”

“You don’t have to, Kiyo, I’d hate to bother you so much in one day let alone one sitting,” the composer puffed her cheeks out, “That’d be so obnoxious…”

“I don’t find it obnoxious whatsoever, especially if it’s to aid- “ he hesitated, “to aid a friend.”

He hadn’t had friends before. People usually found him creepy and that was the end of the story - nobody approached him and he didn’t branch out. Life went on. The world spun. His loneliness was everlasting and yet nonexistent. He has Sister. Though, deep down, he knows. She’s on another plane of reality with loneliness stronger than his, that’s why he sends her respectable young women.

Just like (Y/n).

But just… not (Y/n). For reasons he personally chooses to not disclose to even himself.

“Aww, Kiyo! You care!” the girl placed a hand over her heart as if to show that the organ itself was squeezing in delight at his offer.

“Of course, I do,” Korekiyo didn’t like how quiet she made him. How jittery and nervous. And he didn’t like how it made him question the way Sister made him feel.

She also made him nervous but it felt different. He liked to pretend it was the nervousness of a love you don’t quite have yet, but he fully knows he’d be lying. She was a mean girl, a bully in school before being hospitalized. Prone to violent and outright frightening outbursts when she had the energy to do more than force him to her side.

But he didn’t like questioning those feelings for Sister. Who he was, was based on her. His uniform. His passion and talent. His hair. His perfect complexion. His life as the universe knows it is an ode to her.

It’s too late for him to go back now… he’s already done so much in her name it’d be cruel to give up now. He might as well continue for Sister.

“If you really don’t mind, then yeah, I’d like it if we could walk together… I get a little nervous going around at night, you never know who’s gonna snap…”

“And you trust me?”

Shit. That’s what gets him in trouble. It’s as Sister always said. ‘Too naive to make his choices, and once he’s free, too inept to make the right ones.’

“Well, yeah,” (Y/n) spoke as if there was hardly any thought to the answer, “All you’ve shown me is somebody worth trusting,” then, she’s quick to remember poor Kaede, “Well, maybe I’m being silly. But hey, if I have to choose between dying trusting my friends and paranoid beyond myself, then maybe I’d- “ she paused, “Ehhh, I don’t like the way that’s coming out.”

“I understand what you’re attempting to say,” Korekiyo reassured, turning towards his research lab’s exit, “Let us start towards the dormitories, yes?”

“Right!” (Y/n) nearly found herself jogging to catch up to Korekiyo’s long-strided head start, she clutched the strap of her bag as she did so, “So… you heard about Angie’s plan, right?”

“To perform a resurrection?”

“Do you think it’ll work?” she seemed antsier than was typical for her, “I mean, you’re into anthropology, so, like, has there ever been a case where that did work? Do you know?”

“No, besides, that would be more akin to history, remember?” she probably didn’t, her memory failed her at an ungodly amalgamation of best and worst of times.

“Oh, yeah,” she murmured and nodded, pretending to recall the difference between the two.

“Who would you desire back into this game, if you could?”

“Rantaro,” her answer was quick, her fingers looping together nervously, “We didn’t really talk much, but uhm, whenever we did - he was really nice. He said I reminded him of a sister of his… so that’s a good thing, right?”

Depends on who you ask, really.

“You grew attached to him so quickly?” there was no jealousy there, he tried to convince himself.

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wish I’d gotten to know him more. He was always running around, trying to save us, and in the end… it got him killed.”

A lot of things will get you killed.

Korekiyo shook off the thoughts racking his brain, “Your care for him even through his estrangedness and peculiarity is truly beautiful, (Y/n),” he fiddled with the locket piece hanging around his shoulders, “Even your care for myself. I’d be lying if I’d said it wasn’t endearing.”

“You’re not…” her words died out, not wanting to lie to a dear companion of hers, “You’re a little off-putting but you’re not undeserving of love, Kiyo.”

It was a complete 180 from what Sister had told him his entire life. A new lesson coming in far too late. He had to earn love. He should’ve been crawling on his knees and pleading for affection, but now he was supposed to simply receive it? It sounded so incredibly fake. A fictitious tale told alongside gumdrop fairies and candy trees.

No place for someone of realistic standard.

No place for him.

“You’re far too kind, (Y/n).”

“Maybe you just haven’t known nice people,” she suddenly stopped, slapping a palm to her mouth and muffling against it, “I’m so sorry!”

“Worry not,” Korekiyo continued walking, “I’m unphased.”

Because maybe it was true.

Maybe Sister wasn’t so nice.

There was an itch at his skin in the thought and he shook his head.

Sister was kind enough to love someone like him. Who was of rotted soul and rancid heart.

“I shouldn’t have just said that, especially since I don’t really know your life…”

“Would you like to learn it someday?”

(Y/n) was fairly shocked at how quickly he seemed to breeze by her insult to his family and friends - well, if he had any friends - but she wouldn’t refuse. It was extra time with Korekiyo! Who could turn that down?

“I’d love to.”

~~

“Tea and cookies,” (Y/n) pumped a fist in the air, “What could be better than enjoying those with a friend?”

Korekiyo felt his lips twitch up behind his mask at the rhetorical question, he reached out for his teacup, “Perhaps freedom from this killing game?”

“Oh, yeah, huh…” she deflated, “Jeez, I can’t believe I’d say that…”

Oh, great, of course, now he’s gone and made the local ball of sunshine in this school upset.

“Nevermind that, (Y/n), it was a tease…” he gripped the cup a little tighter, cheeks heating up in humiliation at his failed joke, “I apologize if it seemed like anything other than such.”

“No, don’t apologize, it’s fine! It was kind of a dumb thing to say, now that I put some brain into it,” so it made sense she’d said it, (Y/n) frowned at the bitter thought.

“Ah,” the clink of a cup against the table caught the girl’s attention, “I must change my mask in order to properly enjoy this tea and these cookies,” as the anthropologist went to turn, he was stopped by another outburst from the girl.

“No, don’t! Uh, here!” she clenched her eyes shut, papped her palms over her face, and turned her head downwards, “See? Now I can’t!”

“You don’t have to go to such lengths, I could simply turn- “

“No, no, I want you to feel comfortable and I heard once that doing things to make your friends comfortable is, like, a way to make them like you more?” she huffed at the wording, “Just, I don’t know… I want you to know that I care. Ya get it? No need to turn yourself away like that when I can just not look.”

A tuft of air passed through his nostrils at the girl.

Sister would adore a friend like her.

Korekiyo pulled down his mask, brows drawn tight towards his eyes at the new realization. It was no longer a matter of her being respectable, it was now the knowledge that someone as tender-hearted as (Y/n) would be loved beyond comprehension by Sister.

But… no. Sister couldn’t have her. She’d understand, right? Of course. She could have someone else - the other bubbly girl, what’s her name? Angie. She could have Angie.

Korekiyo just… he just needed (Y/n). Something about her was calming and sweet. He picked his mask for eating from a pocket in his uniform and carefully adjusted it over his lips so as to not smudge his lipstick. It wouldn’t anyway, he knew this, but it usually never backfired to be too sure.

The lipstick in itself was quite the hassle. Another homage to Sister that she might not even be seeing. So was the hair. It got tangled and knotted and was hell to dry after a shower.

“Not to rush you at all, but are you done? Cuz my eyes are starting to hurt… I think I’m squeezing them too hard.”

“Right, yes, I am.”

He really shouldn’t think like that… Sister deserved to be honored.

As if she’d been reading his mind, (Y/n) leaned over slightly, pointing at Korekiyo’s hair, “Hey, hey, how do you manage that? It always looks so silky and soft and well-kept.”

“Ah, well, it is quite troublesome most days, but with patience and rather expensive products, I keep it together.”

“I was wondering, too, do you ever put it up?”

“Not usually, though, that would be… nice on occasion,” he sipped at his tea, enjoying the way (Y/n) shyly glanced away to prove she didn’t want to invade his privacy. She was too delightful to be in a place such as this, even if he did enjoy the beauties of law-absence.

“Uh, I don’t want to come off pushy or like you have to let me, but if you want, I’d love to put your hair up! To be honest, I’ve been wanting to for a while,” her eyes widened at her own statement, “Oh, that sounded creepy. I’m so sorry.”

“I am hardly one to judge,” he reached over for a cookie, “But, if you’re so inclined, I won’t protest.”

“Yay!” she bounced slightly in her chair, “Oh, that’s great, Kiyo, thanks.”

“Shall we go to your dorm after finishing our refreshments?”

“I’d like that,” (Y/n) grinned.

And to think she almost didn’t approach Korekiyo on that first day in the school. How ridiculous could she have been to judge based on looks? Sure, he was a little strange and the way he spoke was unlike any teenager she’d ever met, but he was still a person. He deserved to be given companionship.

Besides, he’d only ever shown her kindness and support.

He didn’t even make fun of her when she said something stupid in front of everyone.

She cringed at the memory of every time Kokichi or Miu or Maki prodded at her. Even Ryoma and Kaito had picked on her when she misspoke during the first trial and just brought up a point the class had already proven. It made her heart wrinkle and shrink at the mere thought. Kokichi still made fun of her for questioning Tsumugi’s whereabouts during Rantaro’s murder.

“You’re staring into your tea, it will grow cold if you only look at it.”

“Oh, yeah,” shaking her head, (Y/n) silently cursed herself for spacing out. What an awful habit of hers, it was, “Sorry for taking so long.”

“You shouldn’t apologize, I’m not upset in the slightest,” he felt his heart lighten at the tiny smile that illuminated her face, “I simply enjoy spending this time together.”

“You’re too nice sometimes, Kiyo,” she giggled, but they both recognized the tingle of nervousness jumbling within it, “If you’re not careful, I might fall for you or something…”

“Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing?”

I wouldn’t mind, she wanted to say.

If you’ll have me, he wished to murmur.

Then he felt his chest tighten.

“Can I…” he tapped a finger to the table, “ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Have you ever been in love?”

“Uhm,” she bit her lip as she thought back, “No… why?”

“How do you think it feels?”

“Like, you could be free and yourself around the person? I’m not too sure, but I think if you and someone else are in love then you’ll accept each other completely, you know? Sure, there’s flaws in every person, but I think you accept those, too.”

“I see…”

“Kiyo, why do you ask?”

“I…” his brows furrowed, “A lot has been on my mind as of late.”

“Alright, I won’t pry,” standing from the dining table, (Y/n) clapped her hands together, “Now, if you’re still down, I’d love to put your hair up!”

“As it stands, I am still, as you put it, ‘down’,” Korekiyo nodded before joining the girl and starting towards her dorm room.

“Nice!” she pointed directly ahead, “Now, onward!”

A total airhead at her truest, Korekiyo thought. He didn’t usually partake in the type, but something about (Y/n) just pulled him in tighter every time he tried turning away.

So, what’s the harm in giving in? Swimming against the tide only ever led to drowning anyway, so why fight it?

Sister… Sister was dead. Is dead. Resurrection isn’t possible and hasn’t been in human history. And she had changed so much of him. (Y/n) would never force him to bend to her ideal.

The more he thought about Sister in comparison to (Y/n), the more he realized that Sister felt like a ball and chain - and (Y/n) felt like a breath of fresh air.

Just her name inside his own head sounded as sweet as the best form of heaven.

“Here we are!” (Y/n) cheered upon their arrival to her room, “There’s probably a bunch-load of unfinished works in here so just… don’t judge them too harshly, okay?”

“I could hardly judge an unfinished masterpiece.”

“I don’t know about masterpieces…”

“If you create them with heart and soul, there’s nobody who can effectively say they aren’t except for yourself,” Korekiyo enters the room after her, legs carrying him towards her desk as she roots around her bathroom for a hairbrush and hair tie, “Sadly, this is also applicable to disasters with effort put into them. However, just from skimming these, I can tell you they are not such disasters.”

“Aw, thanks, Kiyo, you know - I know I’m the Ultimate Composer and junk, but jeez it gets so nerve-wracking when people hear my stuff. I like what I write, but who’s to say other people will?”

“I understand that. Showing others your work is extremely unsettling at times,” he followed the girl to her bed and sat between her knees on the floor, “I recall feeling that way when I would dabble in artistry.”

“You can draw?”

“I would when I was much younger,” he felt her fingers run over his scalp and through his hair and the weight looming over his shoulders practically melted off, “I haven’t held onto any of them, and they’ve likely aged poorly, but I know how I felt showing them around.”

“Why’d you stop? If you don’t mind my asking,” reaching around, (Y/n) threaded her fingers through Korekiyo’s bangs and, as gently as humanly possible, pulled the hair hanging over and around his face back into a slicked style.

“My… sister, she always rathered that I participate in anthropology with her. I wasn’t all that good anyways.”

“Aw, that’s kinda sad. Even if you weren’t good, you could’ve improved over time.”

“Do you truly believe that, (Y/n)?”

“Of course, I mean, talents are just developed over time, right? Angie didn’t pop out of the womb an art genius and I didn’t start off great at writing music, you just keep at it and eventually your skill level is way better than when you started.”

Sister always said he’d be garbage at drawing. Somebody like him could never learn.

She tied off and twisted until the bun was perfect - well, not perfect. It was presentable enough, and it was just a bun anyway! Not like they had anywhere to be.

“Sorry it’s messy,” she scratched at her cheek, feeling anxious that he’d be upset with her work.

“I…” he felt another little smile peek over him, it was indeed messy with stray hairs sticking out here and there and a few tiny bumps running over his head, but even so, “I love it.”

“You do?”

“It’s a gesture from you, why wouldn’t I?”

Standing beside Korekiyo at the mirror, (Y/n) twiddled her thumbs before spewing out her question, “It’s totally cool if not, but can I hug you? Sorry if that’s weird!”

“No… it’s…” Sister never asked to touch him, and now that he thought about it, she never seemed to care when he told her to stop, “That would be wonderful.”

As her arms slowly came around him, he felt truly at ease. With Sister, there was always this fear of never being what she wanted. That she hated him deep down. With (Y/n), it felt like finally being attached to someone you were meant to. Returning to a place of deep affection.

“You truly do care about me, don’t you, (Y/n)?”

“What kind of question is that?” she back-pedals, “I mean, of course, I do. You’re very dear to me, Kiyo.”

Maybe even a little too dear, considering the current climate of the killing game.

But even so, neither of them pulls away. Neither cares enough to wrangle themselves from indulging in the other’s touch. It feels too good against their skin.

It’s then that Korekiyo’s brain strikes the flint to create the burning thought - maybe Sister wasn’t all that great. Maybe Sister didn’t love him.

She’s only ever made him miserable, now that he recalls it all.

(Y/n) doesn’t. She makes him feel human and alive and adored. He likes the way she makes him feel. And between the two, he much rather would be praised than berated.

~~

Oh God, what did this mean again?

Where do the creation myths go?

Who’s Princess Kaguya?

Her head throbs at the thoughts rumbling through her. She tried to get Korekiyo to get someone, anyone, but her to organize his notes.

Shuichi would love this stuff! You two should bond!

Gonta could learn about being gentlemanly from you! It’d be a great learning experience!

I know you don’t like Miu that much, but maybe spending more time together could make you understand each other more?

Anyone.

And yet, Korekiyo denied. He liked spending time with her. He wouldn’t mind answering every question she had - no matter how many times she asked it. He was a patient person, he could handle it.

(Y/n) looked at all the books and stray papers surrounding her alike, bottom lip tugged between her teeth in focus and face beating hot in vivid embarrassment. He wasn’t even looking at her, thank God, but still… it was so mortifying that she’d already lost track of what she was doing.

She tried so hard to pay attention, she really, really did!

She wanted to help so bad. She wanted to be useful so bad.

But she knew… she’s not a smart person, per se. It was beaten over her head repeatedly her entire life by her family, schooling, peers, and even her friends. She was an idiot who couldn’t do anything right.

It’s why she wanted Korekiyo to ask someone else.

But how could she say no to him? He was always so nice, it’d be downright mean to refuse him. Right?

She felt her eyes burn, vision growing blurry through tears. Setting down the papers in her hands - (Y/n) covered her eyes to keep any wetness from splotching the notes below. It was the least a fucking moron could do.

“(Y/n)? Are you feeling okay?”

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

She nodded shakily, just wanting Korekiyo to ignore her and continue his work. Better yet, he’d kick her out and she could dodge the incoming humiliation altogether.

“Yeah,” her voice cracked, lips trembling.

Goddammit.

She heard papers rustling before she could feel the presence at her side. Fingertips just barely grazing her body before hesitating back, “You’re lying.”

Understatement of the year.

“I just… I’m so sorry, Kiyo. I’m such an idiot, I knew I couldn’t do this,” she whimpered, desperately trying to grab and suffocate down her bubbling sobs before they wracked her throat, “I’m too fucking dumb to do anything right… I’m sorry…”

“No, no, don’t apologize. You’ve done nothing wrong and you’re no idiot,” he’s immediately slammed with every memory of every time he’s called her such a thing. No matter how nice he tried to be about it, he still aided her insecurity, “I’m sorry for ever saying you were. Intellect is not measured by how well you can do a task nor should everyone’s mind be measured the same. Intelligence is fickle and is spread over a vast variety of subjects. You’re not an idiot for not being able to do something you’re not accustomed to.”

“I just… I- I wanted to help you but then I forgot everything you said about organizing them and then which regions are which and what even is a gorgon?”

He chuckled quietly at her question, “A creature in Greek mythology most commonly in reference to three sisters - Medusa, Euryale, and Sthenno - with hair made of living, venomous snakes that turned those who so much as looked upon them to stone,” he glanced around at what (Y/n) had gotten done, “I see that the filing in relation to music is nearly completed for your half.”

“That’s about all I’m good for.”

“And I would not have managed that so easily, music was never an incredible strength of mine - though I do admire it.”

“Don’t lie to me, Kiyo…”

“I would never,” he moved his notes away to sit more comfortably next to the girl, “In fact, if you’d be willing to listen…” his throat tightened and heart thumped in his chest, “I would like to tell you of something that’s been troubling me for quite some time.”

“Yeah,” she wiped away her tears, sniffling, “of course.”

“I told you of my sister, correct?” he waited for her nod of confirmation to continue, “Well, it’s my belief that…” his fists clenched.

What if she didn’t believe him? What if she blamed him? How do you tell someone your older sister raped and abused you when you’re barely even coming to terms with the fact yourself?

“(Y/n), I…” he stopped, gut bunching in knots before he suddenly ripped down his mask and turned to face her, “I think I need help…”

“What? You’re just wearing lipstick, Kiyo, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“No, no, no, no,” he shook his head, hands shaking wildly as he pulled out the ponytail (Y/n) had done up earlier and yanked through his hair, “E-everything I am is because of her! She consumes me even in death! She- she- she hurt me…”

“Oh,” the girl moved to sit up on her knees, hands reaching out but not yet touching him, “What happened, Kiyo? You can tell me, I’m listening.”

“She told me I was an awful boy, nobody but her could love someone so foul and creepy… she- “ he moved to grip his sleeves, “She touched me,” he looked into the girl’s eyes, “Is it my fault? Am I so disgusting? Why would she do this?”

“Do you want me to hold you or no?” at his shaky nod, she instantly took Korekiyo into a hug, cradling his head and shoulders to her body and stroking through his hair, “You’re more than what she made you. You’re bigger and better than her manipulation. And it’s not your fault she did what she did. It’s completely and totally on her. She took advantage of you, Kiyo, that’s not your fault.”

He grabbed her arm and pressed his face into her shirt as she held him, “Am I rotten? Am I lovable?”

“You’re the best person I’ve ever met. You’re worthy of love and care.”

His lipstick smeared over her shirt and across his cheek and neither of them minded. It would wash off eventually. Her stain on his life would come out.

“When we get out,” (Y/n) began again, “do you want to seek professional help? You can get it, Kiyo.”

He was slow to nod, beginning to grow tired from dosing out tears and trauma at once, “I do… thank you, (Y/n)...”

“No need to thank me.”

“(Y/n)?” she hummed quietly in acknowledgement, “Even if it isn’t for field work… I wish to travel the country with you. I want to show you the beauty of humanity as I know it… for our sakes.”

Looking down, (Y/n) caught the gentleness in his eyes, tender and soft and awaiting her response, she smiled softly, brushing back his hair, “I would love to, Kiyo. If it’s truly something you want to do, I would be happy to go anywhere with you.”

~~

Nighttime was quickly approaching and with the atmosphere and turmoil of the class, (Y/n) didn’t feel very safe being out so late.

“You’re certain you don’t wish for me to walk you to your room?”

“No, you finish up here,” (Y/n) waved off Korekiyo’s offer, “Don’t be such a worry-wart, yeah? I’ll be fine! You better take care of yourself while I’m gone, though.”

He nodded, a small smile stretching over him, “I will, dear (Y/n), don’t worry.”

The girl’s eyes widened slightly before she returned his beam, “You have a cute smile, Kiyo.”

“Oh,” right, he didn’t have his mask on at the moment. It was refreshing to wake up and not trouble himself with makeup for a woman he wasn’t sure even cared - dare he say it, it was nice, even.

He’d only taken his mask off around (Y/n), it felt intimate. Sweet. Something passed only between them.

“Thank you.”

She nodded before turning back and pressing outward from his research lab, “I’ll see ya tomorrow, Kiyo! You better have the sweetest dreams, ya hear me?”

“You as well.”

He returned to cleaning up his lab, occasionally stumbling over a floorboard looser than the others. How troublesome.

That’s when her voice picked up from within his brain.

“You never loved me.”

He looked around despite knowing exactly where the voice was coming from.

“You let her do this to you. You let her take you from me.”

Pushing past them, he persisted in rooting through his notes and organizing his papers.

“She hates you. She’s scared of you. She’s just trying to be nice. You scare her. You scare all of them. You rotten, rotten boy. You’ve been ruined - only I could love a face so hideous and broken. A horrible, horrible boy lucky enough to be given the love I did.”

His hands shook, fingers twitching and heart thrumming heavy, “No. (Y/n) likes me. She enjoys my company.”

“Why would she enjoy the company of someone so lonely and depressing? So gross and foul? She probably hates you for partaking in your own sister’s touch.”

“No, she- she doesn’t… she knows it’s not… it’s not my fault…”

“Are you inside her head? How do you know? How are you certain? I’m the only one who ever loved you - and you’ve abandoned me. Left me all alone.”

“No, I- I haven’t abandoned you, Sister! Please, believe me, I never abandoned you.”

“So, you know what you must do to prove yourself to me.”

“(Y/n) wouldn’t like that…”

“(Y/n) wouldn’t like you anyway.”

She’s right, right? She’s right. Someone as wonderful and beautiful as (Y/n) could never adore him the way he does her. He loves her and she must find him repulsive. Staying out of fear.

Out of pity for the boy abused by his sister. And so, who better to return to than the more predictable of the two?

(Y/n) may have felt more like coming home than Sister - but Sister was home. (Y/n) was comfort. Sister was familiarity.

He found his foot planted against the loose floorboard once again. He knew how he had to make up for his misdeeds and abandonment.

~~

“I’m truly relieved to see that you got to your room safely,” Korekiyo murmured to (Y/n).

“Huh? Oh yeah,” she pointed over to their local gentle giant, “Gonta and I crossed paths on my way and he wanted to walk me to my room and I just couldn’t say no to him. It’s nice to have someone you trust in this ‘game’. Well, other than you,” the elevator jumbled slightly as it dove down into Monokuma’s makeshift courtroom, “I trust you, obviously.”

She shouldn’t. And he wants to tell her that.

But as Kokichi and Shuichi take glances at him from across the elevator, he knows that she’ll figure things out soon enough.

And, during the trial, when Shuichi’s convicting Korekiyo of the murder of Angie Yonaga and Tenko Chabashira - she does. And she cries and screams and throws a fit. Demanding Korekiyo to fight back harder. Demanding Shuichi to stop lying and get serious. Because Korekiyo would never kill somebody.

He was nice. He was a gentleman. He cared about people. He had stolen her heart - and a man who managed that wouldn’t kill anybody. So, of course, Shuichi was lying.

“Do I have to remind you of what’ll happen if you don’t vote?” Monokuma bit out.

(Y/n) clutched at her hair - she knew what she had to do. But every time she went to vote for Korekiyo, her body wouldn’t let her.

Reaching over, the boy himself took her hand in his, “Allow me,” as he guided her hand over her voting panel. No matter how she swatted at his hand or tried to wrench herself from Korekiyo’s grip, he pressed her vote into his name.

She was forced to watch as he was strung up and spun. Made dizzy and sickly. She was made to watch as he fell into the melting pot. Fires eating at his body until he was no more than spirit.

As Monokuma and the sister who had harmed him so horrifically worked as one to rid the world of his soul.

Eyes went to (Y/n) as the execution subsided. Her sobs and hiccups drawing everyone’s attention.

Gonta was the first to approach, a large hand settling on the girl’s back as she cried, silently taking her into a hug.

Her heart wrenched, fingers squeezing at Gonta’s suit and throat rubbing raw with her wild wails.

He could’ve gotten help. He could’ve gotten out with everyone. If she’d just stayed with him then she could’ve done something. Angie and Tenko would be here. Korekiyo would be here.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Kaito’s voice peeked through, “Don’t cry because he’s gone, (Y/n). Move forward - for both of you.”

“I…” she shook her head, choking on a sob, “I don’t think I can…”

Shuichi placed a hand on Kaito’s shoulder, “Just give her a little time.”

As the group moved out of the courtroom, Gonta stayed by (Y/n)’s side up until she clumsily made her way into her dorm room.

Immediately, she collapsed into her bed sheets. Dreading tomorrow. And the next day. And the one after that. And the one after that. And so on. And so forth. Maybe she should’ve known better than to go around falling for a guy in the killing game. Maybe she should’ve held herself up in her room all alone.

There was no escape from this feeling. No hiding. It may get better over time - but Korekiyo would always be gone.

A buzz at the door caught her attention. Her movements were sluggish, honestly just hoping that whoever was there had given up and left by the time she finally answered.

Shuichi stood there, classically uneven, anxious smile and all, “I think there’s something you might be interested in? If you’ll follow me.”

No verbal response was given, only (Y/n) stepping out of her room and shutting the door behind her to give him her confirmation.

He began towards the casino. With a sigh, (Y/n) was about to tell Shuichi off - she didn’t need to start gambling to get over Korekiyo’s death - until he stopped in front of the building.

“I mostly just wanted you to get some fresh air,” he says earnestly before digging in his pocket and pulling out a key with a heart-shaped handle, “I got this from here. You can get your own or keep this one, I think you need it more than I do,” at her confusion he continues to explain, “It can take you into this weird dream-like state where you can see what ‘ideal’ you play in our classmates’ minds… I think you know who I gave this to you for.”

“Kiyo…”

“Yeah. You can see him again, if you want.”

She wanted to be strong and push the key back into Shuichi’s hand - instead, she just looked between him and the key in her hold and nodded slowly, “Thank you, Shuichi…”

He placed a hand on her shoulder, “Sleep well, (Y/n). I know you can grow past this.”

Because he did.

“I’ll try.”

But he wasn’t her. And Kaede was gone far before Korekiyo. And their grief was not the same.

“Thanks again, Shuichi.”

“Just take your time, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

~~

Her knees felt like collapsing under the weight of her nerves, hand falling to the doorknob of the hotel room.

She pushed through her anxiety and found herself in a red-tinted room, a large heart-shaped bed in the center with a merry-go-round circling it. Then, she found Korekiyo standing to the side.

What would his ‘ideal’ version of her be? A friend? An out-of-touch acquaintance? A lover?

Her heart throbbed at the last possibility.

“Ah, my dear, back so soon?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry…”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“I’m, uhm, not sure?”

I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.

“Then don’t,” he seemed to glide across the room, taking the girl’s cheeks in his hands, “You’ve always had a problem with that, my love.”

My love? My love.

“Ah, yeah, sorry,” she huffed at her own word selection, “Oh…”

Korekiyo chuckled quietly, pulling down his mask to kiss her forehead, “I already took my medication while you were out.”

“Your medication?”

“Yes, from the doctor. You were the one who pushed me to go, have you forgotten?”

“Right! No, no, I just blanked,” she quickly lied, giving the boy a broad grin, “I’m glad, though.”

“It’s only medication, dear.”

“Still,” (Y/n) reached up to cup Korekiyo’s cheek, “it’s good that you’re following through with your meds.”

“Your support always helps,” he pressed another kiss to the girl’s forehead, “We’ll be leaving early in the morning tomorrow, I should warn you,” at her furrowed brows he explained, “In order for us to catch the first train to Iwate prefecture. Did you forget, darling?”

“Wait, wait, let me guess…” she waited for his nod before tossing out her suggestion, “We’re traveling for field work!” she was then quick to tag on, “As a couple that’s, like, super in love?”

“You didn’t forget at all, my love,” Korekiyo pulled away slightly, and sat on the bed, removing his shoes, “You play that memory of yours down too much. You’re far more intelligent than you think.”

“You think that?”

“Of course, I do. It’s not just because I love you dearly, either. You mustn’t let the words and actions of others control your opinion on yourself - you’re better than they say.”

This is his ultimate fantasy. He’s her lover. They travel and see the beauty of humanity together, just like what he said he wanted. He loves her. He thinks she’s so great.

He’s wrong.

She should’ve stayed with him that night.

He’s wrong.

She could’ve done so much to keep him with her.

He’s dead.

Because she should’ve stayed.

“Kiyo,” her eyes burned and began to soak, “I’m sorry!” her lungs rapidly expanded and contracted with her sporadic breaths, her hands clutching at her shirt. Her knees finally buckled and she collapsed to the ground, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry for being a stupid, stupid, stupid failure! Please… forgive me…!”

Korekiyo immediately stood up and rushed to (Y/n)’s side, bringing her into a tight hug as she fell to the floor, his fingers running through her hair. He kisses at her temple and cheeks, waiting until her cries settle enough for him to be audible in the room, “It’s interesting, dear, I first realized I’d fallen in love with you in a situation similar as this. I desired to comfort and reassure you just as I do now. You’re not stupid nor a failure, and I adore you above all else.”

Shaking her head, (Y/n) only began to cry harder into Korekiyo’s chest. This could’ve been their future. This could’ve been what they had to share and hold between only each other. If she’d only stayed. If she’d been with him that night.

“Oh, my dear, I’m sorry for upsetting you.”

“It wasn’t you,” she clamped a hand over her mouth, trying to keep back her cries, “I- I- it’s all my fault… it’s all my fault…”

“You haven’t done anything wrong, darling,” Korekiyo held her tighter, “I love you, my dearest (Y/n). No matter what you’ve done, I will always forgive you.”

And once again, her tears only came out harder. Her head pounding ruthlessly at the ache and consciousness fading out in her exhaustion. Korekiyo was dead. And no amount of her tears could ever bring him back.

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

I read your headcanons about James Potter and I’m really interested to hear your thoughts Sirius and regulus Black pls pls pls

Oh no.

Alright, strap in people, because I’m about to say some things that nobody will like.

Let’s start in alphabetical order with Regulus. 

Fandom often sees Regulus as a reformed Death Eater, the redeemed villain, or else a cooler suaver version of Sirius steeped in pure blood culture, making him more palatable than many pureblood characters as a love interest. There’s a lot of fics of him having almost defeated Voldemort, coming back from the dead and actually defeating Voldemort, reconnecting with Sirius, showing Harry the cool pureblood ways without being racist, etc.

Well, I don’t really buy into any of that.

I think, even with his defection, Regulus was likely still a very racist character and never really disavowed the cause. True, he was young when he was sucked in, he had his whole family meltdown when Sirius was disowned and suddenly he was heir, but I do think he really did believe in blood purism and nothing from the books suggests that he died not believing in it. He just stopped believing in Voldemort.

Instead, I believe he discovered that Voldemort a) did not mean anything good for his culture and b) Voldemort was a fraud.

What do I mean by that?

Well, in the first case, I’ve always viewed Tom Riddle in that period in time as a hate filled nihilist who doesn’t really believe in what he preaches. It’s just convenient to him as the purebloods are the ones with the money and the power. There’s no point in him appealing to Dumbledore’s ilk as they’re far less likely to be able to make him king (also it would mean putting up with Dumbledore and his stupid speeches about love and friendship). Most of Voldemort’s actions throughout the books don’t make the muggle borns’ lives miserable (at least not until he gets into power) but makes hell of the purebloods’ lives and absolutely ruins them. 

The Black family, in particular, he essentially wipes off the face of the Earth. 

With that in mind, I imagine a young Regulus eventually came to realize that Voldemort was systematically destroying the great families from the inside to put himself in power. It was never about the muggleborns or the country, it was only ever about power.

Then we get to the other bit, Voldemort being a fraud. Unlike many, I believe the Death Eaters had no idea who Voldemort was. It’s too unbelievable to me that some guy named Tom Riddle, who their fathers all went to school with, who everyone knew as a muggle born impoverished orphan, could convince them all that he was the next Merlin who they should devote their lives (and their money) to. Tom’s charismatic, but he’s not that charismatic. Better for Tom Riddle to just disappear entirely and show up as the Count of Monte Cristo, descendent of Salazar Slytherin himself, impressing all the young heirs while their young, angry, and stupid. 

With Regulus finding out that his great leader is actually just the halfblood son of a squib, the whole movement falls apart. Regulus is a pawn, fighting for nothing he believes in. Now, that said, I don’t think Regulus ever figured out who exactly, Tom was. He clearly knew the name, as we see from the locket, but just knowing that Riddle is a muggle last name would be enough to know that Voldemort was nothing he presented as.

Basically, Regulus becomes extremely disillusioned with the Death Eaters and Voldemort in a few short years. The change he wanted to see sweeping the country doesn’t happen. Instead the violence, which he was initially very excited for (guys, Regulus did join a domestic terrorist organization and I will not cut him slack for that, he was excited to blow up some muggle borns) is pointless and hurting their own people as opposed to the muggle borns. 

During all of this we have Kreacher borrowed by Voldemort for the creepy horcrux placement. This certainly makes Regulus go “hm” and he’s clever enough to put together on his own that the locket must be a horcrux.

That said, I do not believe he knew enough about Tom Riddle to have been able to hunt down the rest or even know where or what they would be. Dumbledore had been paranoidly collecting memories of Tom Riddle’s entire goddamn life and relying on the plot convenient aspect that Tom was apparently so much of a romantic he never left his horcruxes anywhere but Britain and always left them in very noticeable sentimental objects. Regulus knew about the locket because of Kreacher, had he lived, he’d have no idea where the hell else to start.

So that’s Regulus for you, a fairly intelligent, yet youthfully stupid, extremist whose dream did not live up to the reality and probably still would have spat in Hermione’s face had the gang resurrected him from being a lake zombie.

As for Sirius, well, he’s James the asshole times a thousand to the point where he makes some “ha ha, very funny, but actually really this is horrifying” decisions. 

I guess we’ll start back when he’s young.

We don’t see much of the young Sirius, and granted, what we do directly is given to us by a very bitter, resentful, and biased Severus Snape but his actions still read a lot like pretty much any Stephen King bully villain. The scene where they’re tormenting Snape (and Snape drops the slur, Lily abandoning him) is horrifying to read. And it’s clearly one of many moments over many years of this group of boys sexually harassing him (and yes, that was sexual harassment guys, let’s not pull out stops here).

Then we get to the joke with Lupin that... really wasn’t a joke.

The flimsy excuse we’re given in canon is that a) it was all in good fun b) Snape was so much of a coward he’d never actually go to the Shrieking Shack because he’s a big chicken. Bawk bawk bawk, Snivellus the chicken. But, well, these excuses are flimsy. 

When you get down to the bare bones of it what Sirius did there was attempted murder via his chronically ill best friend. It’s one of those actions that I simply cannot justify, even had Sirius not thought it all the way through, as boys will be boys. What was the good outcome there? Snape sees Lupin and shrieks in terror? (Only to probably run to some authority and try to get the uncontrolled werewolf the fuck off of campus, nice going Sirius) Snape gets infected with lycanthropy? Snape dies, Lupin wakes up covered in blood with the horror of knowing he ate a classmate? 

Later, we do get Sirius sort of apologizing for his behavior. But it’s at best a ‘sort of’ apology. He never admits the full horror of what he did, just how relentlessly brutal he was to Snape, or what the werewolf thing really would have ended in. Instead he goes, “yeah, James and I were kind of assholes. He grew up though, Lily married him so he couldn’t be an ass anymore! And it was Snape, Come on, Harry, it was Snape.” And Harry, messed up asshole that he himself is goes, “Yeah, it was Snape! Stupid Snape!”

I also never got the feeling he ever fully apologized to Remus. Sirius used Remus in the worst of ways, made it clear he had no respect for Remus and no compassion for his condition, and continues to treat him as a sort of secondary friend to James. I think it says a lot that Remus was able and willing to believe Sirius was guilty of murdering James and Lily in cold blood. 

Which probably gives you a hint that I think Remus/Sirius would never happen except in the most toxic of ways possible.

Basically, in a fair world, Sirius should have been expelled if not tried for the werewolf incident. However, Dumbledore plays favorites and chose the sons of two lords as opposed to the poor half blood (which I imagine cemented Snape’s path to becoming a Death Eater). And so there is some cruel irony in that Sirius was eventually jailed for something, even though it was something he didn’t do.

Now, after Azkaban, Sirius seems to have mellowed out a lot. While he’s a bit unhinged and thoughtless (his rescue attempt of Harry’s rescue attempt at the end of Order of the Phoenix) a lot of this can be seen as after effects of his stay in literally hell on Earth for over ten years. 

That said, a lot of people see him as the cool uncle character who, if Harry had been able to live with him, all would have been well. I firmly disagree. Young Sirius was, well, god knows how warped Harry would have been growing up with a young and reckless Sirius Black. After prison he’s in no condition to take care of Harry, and even says as much multiple times. Sirius is cool to hang around at a distance, but up close and personal he’d be very messed up and not at all ready to be a father to a teenage boy. 

Otherwise, Sirius was very very very gay for James Potter. Unfortunately for him, James Potter was straight and into Lily Evans. I’m sure it was a very sad day for Sirius when Lily actually said yes to James. Except not really, because James always strikes me as a “bros before hos” kind of dude. Not that I’m sure if Sirius ever admitted he was gay and in love with James, I’ve always been of the belief that pureblood culture is extremely homophobic and it just... wouldn’t come up. 

So there it is, now excuse me while I go hide behind this barrier before I get eaten alive.

[1-800-smash]

Oh wait I just realised we could ask for the whole alphabet for a character,, could you for Dabi?

「 next time won’t you sing with me. 」

feat. dabi.

summary: learning the alphabet with dabi is easy, as long as you can still remember what he taught you afterwards ;)

warnings: nsfw content.

word count: 1.9k

request:  @inanabsentia — ❝Oh wait I just realised we could ask for the whole alphabet for a character,, could you for Dabi?❞

@anon — ❝Can u do a, c, d and I with Dabi pls 🥺🥺❞

@anon — ❝Omg pls could you do BFKO for Dabi (for the alphabet thing) 🥺🤲❞

@guijh103 — ❝Hii, could you make B,E,F,H,N,V,X,W,Z for Dabi pls.❞

@anon — ❝a, f , i, y on dabi please? 🥺💞❞

a/n: oh my, it seems everyone wants a piece of this beef jerky :0 don’t worry, i see you guys! i’m doing bakugo next, so be on the look out for that one! i hope you enjoy it! ♡ — shelbs.

submitted — [09.20.18]

nsfw under the cut.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

⚘ he’s not that big on aftercare.

⚘ if you want to be pampered after sex you’re looking at the wrong person, hun.

⚘ anything you want you can just get it yourself, at least that’s how he sees it.

⚘ you’re a big girl who can take a big cock, so that means you can do the rest by yourself.

⚘ he’s knows it a dick move but he just doesn’t care.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

⚘ he likes your ass, especially when he’s spanking it until its a nice red color while he fucks you from behind.

⚘ he loves to knead the soft flesh there when your making out and things are getting heated.

⚘ or on the rare occasion he lets you ride him he’ll love to grab your ass and slam you down on his cock.

⚘ the surprised scream that comes out of you makes his mouth twist up into a proud smirk.

⚘ your being impaled on his cock and he fucking loves it, he might even let you do it more often just to hear those sweet sounds of yours.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

⚘ he LOVES to cum on your face.

⚘ when you go down on him, right as he’s about to cum he’ll pull out and paint your entire face white like it’s a canvas.

⚘ doesn’t mind cumming on either the insides of your thighs or your stomach.

⚘ but do NOT ask him to cum inside you, that’s a huge no no.

⚘ “eat shit i’m not putting a demon inside you” vibe.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

⚘ he gets off being the dominant one.

⚘ he likes having control over the situation and being able to decide what will happen.

⚘ he’s still having trouble with his own past and trying to distance himself from what happened.

⚘ but now, in this situation, he can take back control.

⚘ and you’re so willing to hand it over to him, you trust him.

⚘ and it makes him just the slightest bit contented to know that.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

⚘ he has experience, but if i’m being honest here he doesn’t see sex as a big deal.

⚘ he wouldn’t be out there looking to get laid every day of the week but if shit happens, it happens.

⚘ but don’t be discouraged, you obviously mean something a little more to dabi than some random fuck if he keeps showing up uninvited.

⚘ he might not admit it out right, but even though he doesn’t think sex is a big deal he’s still not going to sleep with just anyone.

⚘ remember that next time he’s eating your pussy out until you can’t see straight.

⚘ because no other girl could be this lucky.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

⚘ likes fucking you doggy style the most, his hand forcing your head down into the mattress while he just pound into you relentlessly.

⚘ or maybe taking you against a wall, that’s always fun for him.

⚘ your legs wrap around his hips nicely while the wet sound of skin slapping against skin echoes throughout the room.

⚘ he thinks face to face is a too personal.

⚘ and no matter how much he loves having sex with you, he’s not ready to open himself up to some things yet.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

⚘ he takes fucking your brains out to be a very serious matter.

⚘ he might make a sarcastic remark or a cruel joke here and there.

⚘ but don’t expect him to be lighthearted about it.

⚘ every word that comes out of this man’s mouth is dripping with sin.

⚘ he doesn’t have time to joke around when he’s too busy making your pussy twitch deliciously on his tongue.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

⚘ he’s surprisingly well groomed.

⚘ he says he doesn’t like when gets too unkempt, so he keeps it trimmed.

⚘ his pubes are the same charcoal black as the hair on his head.

⚘ same texture too but a bit softer.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

⚘ he’s not intimate at all, this is just sex for him.

⚘ he might slip up and for just a second you can see a softer look in his eyes when he thinks you can’t see him.

⚘ when he realized what he was doing he went a little harder on you than usual that day.

⚘ he wasn’t mad at you but more at himself.

⚘ in a different world maybe he’d be a more loving partner, kissing you all over and whispering sweet words or love and admiration.

⚘ but that is not the case, and in this world he’s still dabi.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

⚘ he doesn’t jack off often but when he does he’ll think of you.

⚘ won’t ever admit it but goddamn he has the best orgasms when he does.

⚘ and it gives him ideas on what he’ll do to you later.

⚘ but to be honest, he doesn’t see masturbation as a necessary thing and can go quite a while without doing it.

⚘ no nut november, who?

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

⚘ what kinks doesn’t he have, is the real question.

⚘ deep-throating is his absolute favorite, he loves watching your swollen lips envelope around his cock.

⚘ spanking is one he’ll do quite often too, especially if you’ve been an absolute brat.

⚘ i’m not kidding, your ass will be so sore after that you won’t be able to sit for few days.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

⚘ he doesn’t have a preference.

⚘ if the need arises he’ll fuck you up against the wall in an empty alleyway if he wants to.

⚘ and it’s not like you’re complaining either.

⚘ but he would prefer a bed over anything else, he doesn’t like how cold it can be outside.

⚘ especially on his balls.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

⚘ nothing turns him on more than seeing you sitting there waiting for him so seductively.

⚘ he knows you want him he just wants you to show him how much.

⚘ he’s not used to getting this kind of attention with the way he looks so seeing you wanting him this badly will definitely turn him on.

⚘ he’ll take this with him to the grave, but he’s grateful he had someone to spend time with even if it was just sex.

⚘ and you mean a little more to him than most.

⚘ but you didn’t hear that from me.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

⚘ he will admit that even he can go too far sometimes, he knows that.

⚘ and you know that, at least you should by now at the very least.

⚘ but even he has his limits.

⚘ nothing that is too gross or dehumanizing.

⚘ he still sees you as a person, and from his own past experiences he tries to remember that.

⚘ he would expect the same from you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

⚘ he prefers to receive, remember what i said about loving to cum on your face?

⚘ but if he goes down on you, just know that you’re special.

⚘ dabi just doesn’t give a fuck when it comes to sex, but when he’s actually trying to make you feel good then you know he likes you.

⚘ in his own twisted way, of course.

⚘ but that still won’t stop him from absolutely destroying you inside and out, no in fact, it just gives him more incentive to.

⚘ so if you want him to go a little easy on you, make sure to open that pretty mouth of yours nice and good.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

⚘ two words: FAST and ROUGH.

⚘ do not expect anything less from him.

⚘ he’s the dominant one when you in this arrangement and he’s not going to give that up for no one.

⚘ not even for you.

⚘ he’s going to be fucking you so hard into the mattress until your absolutely screaming his name.

⚘ and be warned that if you’re being even the slightest bit bratty, he’s going to punish you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

⚘ he really likes them and sometimes even prefers them over regular sex.

⚘ just fair warning though, he’s not going to be gentle at all.

⚘ this will mostly be about getting him off, so if you don’t get much out of it that’s not his problem.

⚘ any feelings of guilt won’t stick around for long though, and if your a good girl he might even fuck you again that night.

⚘ just to how that while he may be a villain, he’s still looking out for you in his own way.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

⚘ oh he loves to take risks.

⚘ he sees it as kind of pointless if there isn’t at least some risk involved.

⚘ he can’t help but love the way your eyes shrink in fear a little if his hand puts just a little too much pressure on your neck.

⚘ you know he wouldn’t actually kill you, at least not like this.

⚘ but the thought still lingers in the back of your mind...

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

⚘ he can last a few an hour or two at most with how many rounds depending on how long the first was.

⚘ but it’s also important to note that while dabi loves to fuck you, he doesn’t want to spend all night having sex.

⚘ he’s fine going a couple rounds but when he’d done he’s done.

⚘ even if you didn’t get to finish or not.

⚘ but let’s not kid ourselves here, you most certainly did.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

⚘ be expected to be introduced to toys at some point if you guys continue to see each other.

⚘ he owns all kinds with every intention of pleasure and punishment.

⚘ noting gets him off more than watching your thighs quake around him as he fucks a vibrator into you.

⚘ but he’s quick to turn your pleasure into his own when he over-stimulates you until you’re on the verge of tears, your knuckles turning white from how hard you’re grasping onto the sheets underneath you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

⚘ it depends on his mood.

⚘ sometimes he wastes no time and just wants to bury himself into your tight cunt already.

⚘ other times, he’ll make you beg for his cock on your knees like a good girl.

⚘ you’ve got to earn it.

⚘ but don’t even think about teasing him, that’s one mistake you won’t ever make again.

⚘ trust me.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

⚘ he doesn’t make a lot of noise.

⚘ slight hisses and groans are expected, he doesn’t like to moan a lot.

⚘ but he does get nosier the closer he is to cumming.

⚘ he prefers to make you moan more than he ever will, it’s just so addicting to hear.

⚘ he’ll do whatever it takes to draw out those sweet, sweet noises from that sinful mouth of yours.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

⚘ the two of you have definitely done anal, i mean come on.

⚘ he already loves your ass as much as it is.

⚘ would definitely tell you to get on your hands and needs as he aligns himself with your hole.

⚘ he’d get the lube out of the side table and pour it over his cock, he’s not that cruel.

⚘ it feels so fucking good to him but whether or not you like it is a whole other story.

⚘ if you two have been seeing each other for a good time now he’d respect it if you didn’t want to do it again.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

⚘ he’s a solid 6.1 inches, circumcised.

⚘ and jesus christ does he know how to fuck you with it.

⚘ would it be too much to say that you love his cock?

⚘ what am i saying, of course it wouldn't.

⚘ saying anything less would be a crime punishable by death.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

⚘ it surprisingly isn’t that high.

⚘ now don’t get me wrong, he loves to fuck you and will happily do so.

⚘ but like i said, sex isn’t a big deal to him.

⚘ if it were he’d have a bigger sex drive then he does now.

⚘ not to mention most people don’t want to have sex with someone who looks like he does, and he’s accepted that.

⚘ now that he’s found someone that does though his sex drive might increase more.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

⚘ he’s not very quick to fall asleep.

⚘ more than likely he’ll go outside for a smoke after you’ve both finished.

⚘ or lie in bed and just get lost in his own thoughts, but sleeping isn’t on his mind that’s for sure.

⚘ he’ll be more likely to fall asleep if you’ve taken a lot out of him or if he was more rough than usual.

@cocoa-bitter @micchikari @cherrymyeon @tiaraowens @dane-1212 @tenaciousgothstudentauthor @kac-chowsballs @cockaimeruben @fandomwhoresblog @shoutosteakettle

want to be added to my tagslist? click here.

[megan-is-mia]

Saw you wanted to write some yandere Twisted wonderland. So, I have one prompt. "Some people weren't meant to take care of themselves." (no. 23 on first set) for the Heartslabyul dorm members sharing a darling? If I may ask, I'd like some fluff in there too please (I just wanna be spoiled by these boys-).

(I am glad for the chance to write for a reverse harem and I hope the lil bit of fluff will be satisfactory)

23. “Some people just aren’t meant to take care of themselves.”

(Yandere! Heartslabyul Dorm x Fem! Reader)

Everyone had a soulmate, every person was born with a red thread connecting them with the one they were meant to be with. Except (Y/n) that is, her situation was something completely out of the ordinary. 

You wouldn’t have guessed it at first sight, and most would never see what was odd about her red thread. It was only when one looked closely that they saw the absurdity of the matter. Her thread you see, was more like a braided cord.

For reasons unexplained five threads adore (Y/n)’s pinky and were interwoven so cleverly that there was no way to snip one without snipping them all. Doctors made countless theories regarding the matter from reincarnation to adultry and everything in between.

All this fuss meant little to (Y/n) who was content to live a life without love when the alternative was sure to be full of heartbreak and headache. She never anticipated that the universe itself would conspire against her plans of solidarity and throw her into a world full of magic and mystery called Twisted Wonderland.

In her new world the threads round her finger seemed to have minds of their own. Acting up at the most inopportune times and almost revealing her dirty little secret to her classmates. The nearest calls always seemed to come when she crossed paths with the boys of the Heartslabyul dorm.

Yet she was so certain that she’d make it out unscathed that she foolishly accepted an invitation to an unbirthday party that doubled as the end of her days of freedom. The day when her thread had fully manifested for the first time in years and showed that it connected to each boy at the table. 

The shock of such a outcome was enough to make (Y/n) pass out only to wake up with her head in Cater’s lap. Riddle was already decreeding new rules of conduct towards and Trey was putting together a schedule of how they’d divvy up time each of them got with her. Both these activities having to combat with the argument that was raging between Deuce and Ace on who got first dibs on her.

It was no surprise that she ended up yelling at them like they were children and insisting she was not a toy for them to toss about until both her voice was hoarse and her energy depleted once more. 

When (Y/n) next awoke she was in Riddle’s room, his face pressed against her bosom like it was a high quality teddy bear. Despite her desire to leave she dared not anger him and risk a second overblot on her conscience. So she allowed herself to be ordered about like a doll, even suffering the shame of wearing magic collar in all of her classes that day. 

The next morning she found herself in someone else’s bed. It wasn’t hard to guess who from the tall frame pressed against her back or the glasses perched on the nightshade. Yes, today (Y/n) belonged to Trey and was never more then a few feet away from him. She even missed classes to remain by his side but was soothed by promises of help catching up on missed material and spoonfuls of cookie dough in her mouth. 

When Wednesday rolled around (Y/n)’s bedmate was already awake long before she was and taking pictures of her sleeping face for his Magigram. She begged Cater to remove the embarrassing photos but her pleas went ignored in favor of his desire to take more pictures but now with them both in camera’s gaze.

(Y/n) was struggling for breath when she woke in Deuce’s tight hold and found her mouth soon occupied by jealous lips. Fortunately delinquent side was soon sated by the triumphant of stealing her first kiss and his temper cooling so he was content just holding her hand as they were from class to class.

The final weekday was almost anti-climatic with how chilled out Ace acted now that it was his turn. If it hadn’t been for the four previous days in hell (Y/n) had suffered, she would have believed nothing between her and the other first-year had changed at all. Sure he was a bit more touchy-feely with her but comparatively it was mild and almost nice.

Then everything went to shit on the weekend. (Y/n) woke up to the sensation of being naked as a baby with a blindfold over her eyes. Even worse that the nudity and blindfold was that her arms and legs were chained so she couldn’t move. Soon she knew the reason behind this disgusting set-up as all through the day the rest of her firsts were stolen from her.

She’d never know who took what from her but when it was over she knew she’d never be clean again no matter how hard she tried. When she finally fell asleep that night she couldn’t imagine what terrors would await her in the morning. 

Sunday was the opposite of the previous day. All the boys acted strangely cordial with each other and (Y/n) felt like a princess with how throughly she was spoiled. She could almost convince herself that everything had just been a nightmare until she found herself back in Riddle’s bed and another week before her. Everyday she was passed to the next boy, the weekend was her cruel personal hell and repeat.

Eventually she gathered the courage to ask that question to end all questions. The one thing that tormented her mind relentlessly. Why? Why wouldn’t they just let her be.

The answer varied though the spirit was always the same. “It’s simple (Y/n). Some people just aren’t meant to take care of themselves...”

THE END

[stay-tinystars]

She's a what??

Ship: Wooyoung(idol) x female Vampire (unnamed)

Comedy/crazy fic!

Warnings: biting, blood, immortality, slight cursing, vampire, it's a really stupid vampire x idol au.

A/N: this is probably the stupidest weirdest fic I've ever written. This is my take on vampires. TMI I've always enjoyed looking at necks, and Wooyoung of ateez has a very very nice neck. So I wrote this crack fic because of a discussion I was having with @ateez-angel

I hope you all enjoy this crack fic. It's very random, and obviously very untrue, and a work of complete fiction.

Word count: ~1.2k

As an immortal it was a good thing to keep moving. Never being someplace too long, of course looking to be in my early twenties helped. I could always be a student attending college abroad, or a new girl who had moved from a small city. I'd done many random jobs, internships, at one point I even joined a nunnery. Having traveled the world I enjoyed the small things like the smell of small bakeries, the sound of amusement parks, the crackling of an open fire.

Most people thought of vampires as creepy, blood sucking creatures, only wanting to suck people dry. Bursting into flames if they stepped into a church (which is why the nunnery was always funny to me). I never fit that description. I also found human food to be quite tasty. I was the uncommon vampire, who had been around for centuries. I was grateful for modern day things, like airplanes, but mostly I was grateful for the fact that humans now bathed regularly.

I had seen things come to be that were now in museums. In fact I'm pretty sure one of the books on display in the Trinity college library was originally mine.

Well enough of my rambling, I'm here to tell you the story of how I accidentally created another immortal after 370 years. How can you accidentally turn someone immortal, you ask? Well that's why I'm here to explain. I really didn't mean to turn Wooyoung immortal. I really didn't, but with a neck like that, how could I not be tempted.

It was your average day in Seoul. I was working at the Jamsil Arena, setting up for another concert stage. This job was quite nice, away from direct sunlight, and worked well for my current 'life' of interning to work doing lighting for concerts. Being an intern I mostly set the lights up, and tested them. That is when I saw him for the first time as he and the 7 others walked on the stage for rehearsal. I had seen my share of k pop idols, they all were fit, young, and talented. However the one with a loud voice and cackling laugh, he drew me in. Wooyoung was what he said his name was, as they all introduced themselves to the stage hands. His aura, his smirk, that jawline, it was all beautiful, but his neck was so tempting. I could feel my small fangs sneak out slightly further than usual as I watched them perform. I tightened my lips as I adjusted the lights during their rehearsal.

I hadn't had human blood straight from the source in over 50 years. Most of my blood fuel came from blood sausage and rare steak. Tonight I'd definitely need a rare steak.

"Hey" I felt someone tap my shoulder, bringing me out of my thoughts, back to work. I turned around and saw him standing mere centimeters from me. "Sorry to interrupt, but they said you could help. My transmitter for my mic isn't connecting correctly"

"Well. I usually only deal with the lighting, but I'll see what I can do" I offered, trying not to stare. He was a masterpiece. I held out my hand, expecting the transmitter, and only getting Wooyoung's hand.

"My name is Wooyoung" he smiled as he squeezed my hand.

"It's a pleasure," I responded. He just swung my hand with his. "Can I have your transmitter to see if I can get it to connect"

"Oh yeah, here you go" he pulled it out of its holder, with his other hand effortlessly, never dropping my hand.

"I'll need both hands" I said slightly giggling as I took the transmitter. His ears reddened as he loosened his grip, dropping my hand. I turned it on, and pressed a few buttons. Trying to remember all the things I'd learned over the years of how these things worked. "OK, try talking," I said.

"Hello" he said, and the sound of his voice echoed through the stadium. "Cool, it's fixed."

At this point I doubted it was ever broken, but I handed it back to him.

"How can I repay you?" He asked as he switched it off.

"I don't think it was ever broken" I smirked.

"Well how else was I supposed to start a conversation with you?" His eyes looking at mine.

"Maybe just a hello?"

"That's too ordinary"

"I suppose it is, for you at least" I had to admit this boy intrigued me. He was different than most humans I had encountered. He seemed to skip steps in the getting to know you process.

"I'd still like to repay you." He grinned. "Maybe I can buy you dinner"

This was difficult. I hadn't been this drawn to someone in over a century, and I couldn't do anything about it. I just did my best to play my role as a young twenty something. He flirted relentlessly through texts, I responded in kind. That's all we did for a month was text. I ate a lot of rare steak.

Soon enough he started inviting me over to the dorm. That is one thing that's true about vampires we must be invited, luckily Wooyoung invited me everywhere with him. The relationship blossomed quick. My feelings for him deepened, much further than just the lust of it all.

Everything went fine until one late night we got caught in the rain as we walked. I had truly fallen for this strange beautiful man. We were walking when I slipped, and he caught me. I found my arms around his neck, his beautiful beautiful neck. It probably looked as if he was dipping me during some odd slow dance in the rain.

He moved in closer as he pulled me up. Our lips ghosting each other. My fangs started protruding, I couldn't stand the temptation anymore, I opened my mouth, a cruel smile taking hold of my features. His face changed from one of caring, to one confusion.

"I've always noticed you have what look like fangs, but tonight they seem bigger" he said quietly, his eyes growing larger.

He was going to become my drug, and I knew it. I smiled wider, then dove for his neck. His beautiful neck, his neck flexed, his SCM tight as I bit him.

His scream brought me out of thoughts. "What the hell! That hurts!" He yelled. I couldn't drain this man, so I did the next best thing. I pulled back slightly and bit hard on my own lip. My blood mixing with his, in my mouth, I then went back to his neck, and sucked. Mixing my blood with his against his neck. I pulled back looking at him and smiling. His hand flew to his neck, he pulled it away covered in the wet red blood.

"I knew you said you liked my neck before, but what the hell! Most people don't draw blood when giving a hickey. It almost felt like you were sucking my blood!" I smiled at his ignorance.

"Wooyoung, sweetie. I am a vampire" I said, trying to help him stay calm.

"Am I going to die??" Panic flooded his features.

"The good thing is, you will never die now. The bad thing is you're gonna have a hell of a time the next few days. You're gonna feel like you have the flu, and a hangover at the same time."

"Well, shit!"

"Also you're going to have to wear some thick chokers to cover your new mark for a while"

[sally-mun]

I know I mentioned in another recent post that I really want to get back to doing my “shows,” but before I can get started I have a couple of other things to finish first, one of which is working on zines. The one I’m currently working on is a Ranma ½ zine, and it’s been an interesting experience -- both because of working on the zine itself, and because of my own history with this series.

That’s right, it’s time for another rip-roarin’ Sally-mun ramble!

My first encounter with Ranma ½ was on my 15th birthday. A friend of mine, one of the only other anime fans I knew because it was still relatively unknown in the US, got me the second graphic novel, which is as much as had been officially translated at the time. Going into the story with no context was confusing to say the least, but it also intrigued me enough to look up whatever info I could find on the few stray bits of internet that covered the series, and it was enough to get me hooked.

That said, I also had kind of a difficult time being a fan, because I honestly didn’t like Ranma himself. Like, at all. I found it confusing that the author would write the protagonist to be so blatantly and outwardly unlikable, and as a result I found myself just sort of looking past him and trying to follow the lives of the other characters. I was appalled at the sort of things he would say to Akane; his constant jabbing that she’s not cute, she’s stupid, no one will ever like her because she’s a tomboy, his frequent judgements of her body... I gotta say, they really resonated with me. I couldn’t help putting myself in Akane’s shoes, and in a weird way I felt personally hurt by his insults. I really admired Akane’s strength and the fact that she never let his bullying get to her, because I know it probably would’ve destroyed me. And this is just the way he treats her; I was equally uncomfortable with the way Ranma antagonizes and harasses several other characters in the series as well. I loved the series and I enjoyed following it, but there was always this uneasy feeling inside of me anytime Ranma opened his mouth.

The last time I read or watched this series was probably in my early 20′s. I worked really hard to track down all the DVD seasons (which were exceptionally rare and expensive at the time), and once I completed my set, I felt such a relief and satisfaction that I put the story down and, it turns out, I hadn’t picked it up again since. It’s been a decade or so since I was actively engaging with this series, so when I got accepted to work on this Ranma ½ zine, I’ll admit that there was a part of me that felt a mild degree of panic. Yes, I’m still a fan, but I’m not very deep in the weeds right now; I honestly wasn’t even sure if I could decently write the characters, including and especially Ranma himself. In fact, I realized, I didn’t want to write about Ranma. I didn’t want to write about a character that I probably wouldn’t willingly spend time with in real life.

In the end, however, none of that mattered, because I signed on with this zine and I needed to be an adult and honor that commitment. Since it’s been such a long time since I’ve read or watched this series anyway, I decided to binge on the anime again for the first time in all these years. And this is why I’m writing this long-ass post tonight, because even though I’m only a couple seasons in right now, I have been absolutely shocked to find that my perspective on this story has completely changed. My teenage self can’t even believe I’m saying this, but I seem to have switched sides. I now find Ranma extremely sympathetic, and Akane to be the bully.

Although there is still a part of me that feels for her when Ranma really digs in with his insults, it pales in comparison to how upset I get with Akane over her treatment of Ranma. The fact that she’ll purposefully go as far out of her way as possible to paint Ranma as a jerk is honestly something that’s interfering with my enjoyment of the show. She does have her nice moments here and there, but if any opportunity arises for Akane to scream about Ranma doing something allegedly reprehensible, she’ll take it -- no matter how many people point out the very simple and innocent alternate explanations.

With Akane relentlessly campaigning against him, it honestly comes as no surprise anymore that Ranma snaps at her and antagonizes her. It’s about all he can do to vent his frustrations sometimes, and if she’s going to depict him as a jerk no matter what, he may as well let off some steam in the process. Ranma’s situation is difficult enough just having to deal with his curse, but then to also get forcefully engaged to someone who intentionally sees the worst in him? If anything, I’m now surprised at how much he holds back. He could easily be as nasty to her as she is to him, but he actually takes it kind of easy on her, all things considered. And don’t forget, he rarely gets a break from her; they not only live together, but also go to school together. They’re in each other’s faces all the time. I’m pretty sure I’d have had a few choice things to say to her too if I were in his shoes.

It’s even more frustrating when you consider that she doesn’t even have a good reason TO be treating him this way. This all started because of a mishap that was nobody’s fault. Ranma’s not at fault, Akane’s not at fault, NO ONE is at fault here. Ranma had no reason to believe that anyone (let alone Akane) would walk in on him getting out of the bath, and Akane had no reason to think a boy would be in there. I’m sure she felt embarrassed and violated and wronged, and I DO feel for her in that regard, but that is not his fault. If, IF, IF we’re going to assign fault to anyone, it could honestly only be hers, because one could argue that Akane could’ve at least knocked or announced herself prior to joining Ranma (as a female) in the bath. Furthermore, she doesn’t even acknowledge that this mishap went both ways, as Ranma points out himself that she got a good long look at him, too. He was just as exposed as she was, but she immediately disregards his point and tells him “it’s different when a girl sees a boy,” whatever that means.

Akane is too stubborn to admit to herself that she’s the only one you even could assign blame to, too hypocritical to acknowledge that she wasn’t the only victim, and too immature to just let the damn thing go. It’s a really bad mix that becomes the driving force behind her relationship with him from day one. Akane wants retribution for the crime she’s convinced herself that Ranma committed, so she INSISTS that he’s a no-good pervert because she’s mad that no one was on her side that day. If she couldn’t convince them then, then by god she’s going to convince them eventually, which is why she just will not fucking stop trying to paint Ranma as a perverted jerk. She takes any opportunity she gets to show off his allegedly bad intentions, because to her it’s just another step closer to getting people to see she really was justified on that first day. And Ranma is forced to keep tolerating this, day in and day out, regardless of what he does or doesn’t do.

So what does all this mean?

I think this means that this series is exceptionally well-written, more than anything. At the time that I first discovered this series, I was only marginally younger than Akane herself. I related to her so strongly that I was only capable of seeing the situation from her side, and only able to relate to her emotions and her experiences. As I stated in the beginning, I felt like Ranma’s insults hurt me personally, rather than just empathizing with Akane for him hurting her. This tells me that, for all of her faults, Akane is exceptionally on-point for a girl in her mid-teens. Yes, she’s being immature and petty and unreasonable, but she’s also only 16. That’s how we are at that age, and sometimes it’s easy to forget about that once you grow past it. Teenage years are that shitty point in your life where you feel like you’re so sure that you’ve FINALLY got everything figured out, when in reality you aren’t even capable of understanding the depth of how much you don’t know. Akane holds her grudge against Ranma because she’s so sure she’s right, and she’s determined to find validation for that if it’s the last thing she does, because that’s how most of us viewed the world at 16.

But that’s one of the things that makes my revisit to this series so extraordinary: Akane’s not able to grow and change, but I am. I’ll never be able to view the series the same way I did as a teenager, because I’ve had so many new experiences and so much time to grow since then. I can certainly remember the point of view I had and why, but I’ll never actually have that same view again. I’ve learned so much more about the world, about people and relationships, about morals and ethics... all kinds of things that she can’t, because she’s necessarily frozen in time as a character in a story. Akane doesn’t get to evolve with her readers over the years, and it makes for a fascinating snapshot of where I was mentally and emotionally at that time.

I think the biggest and most critical difference between then and now is my self-esteem. When I first connected with this series, I had basically no love for myself and no confidence that anyone else would ever see anything valuable in me. I was in a place where it was not only very easy for words to hurt me, but for those words to stick with me, sometimes for years after the fact. Ranma, despite simply being a character in a book, was effortlessly able to hurt me on a particularly deep level because that’s how delicate I was at the time of reading it. He hurt me so much that I was completely unable to see his point of view; all I could see was someone being cruel for seemingly no reason, and as such I saw Akane’s treatment of him as completely justified.

20 years later, however, it now reads as a completely different story. I don’t share Akane’s kneejerk reaction to these situations anymore, and I’m more focused on thought process and reasoning. I’m more able to recognize when I’m missing information and need to investigate more, more accountable for when I’ve done something wrong, and more willing to let small things go. Hell, I have a better understanding of what “small things” even are. When I was Akane’s age, none of the incidents happening in the story seemed like small things, but now? Now I just don’t have time for that kind of minutia. It’s... wait for it... childish. Because teenagers are still children, no matter how much we didn’t want to admit it at that time.

But that’s part of the genius of how this series is written. Not only did I instantly fall into the same mental trap as Akane when I WAS her age, but now that I’m not anymore, I look back on it as just kids getting wrapped up in their microcosm of the world. No matter how much I get frustrated at Akane for being horrible to Ranma, I can’t not admit to myself that she’s not an adult yet, so in some way it’s me being the unreasonable one by trying to hold her to adult expectations. She’s still got a lot to learn because she’s still just a kid. I literally used to be just like her at one point in my life. If I was able to mature past that sort of behavior, then I’d like to think that, if Akane were able to age, then she probably would one day too.

[babyybitchhh]

Thotty Thursday: Part 2

The second installment of Thotty Thursday is upon us. Rejoice, heathens!

Now, let me just say that I’m picking dudes at random while trying to keep things balanced between old shows and new ones but ... y’all really bout to notice some patterns the more we do this so I’m just gonna wait for someone to call me out tbh. 😰

FYI, I like to think of myself as an equal opportunist thirster and if a dude is hot then he’s hot. I’m not one to question this shit. But when you get right down to it I have like four types: high IQ smarty pants, dummy thicc, dad and bad boy bastard. Our next snack belongs in the last category, without question.

He’s honestly prettier than me and that is not an exaggeration but don’t let his good looks fool you

This Arabian Nights styled dime piece has a mean streak a mile wide. Because of Reasons, ofc, but that don’t change the facts

Not only did he once punch a child in the face for no other reason than to assert his dominance (fact) he also pretended to cry in front of the person he hates most just to laugh about how they fell for his (flawlessly executed) act

He honestly may or may not have a few screws loose but that’s part of the appeal, you see. It adds a dash of spice to the meal

And you know what they say about crazy bitches in bed 😏

Full disclosure, I started reading Magi: Labyrinth of Magic before the anime aired and his name was originally translated as Judal so that’s what he’s always going to be in my mind. The official translation is Judar, and I respect that, but at the end of the day I do not know her

Judar who?

Can I also just take a moment to point out that gloriously long, thick braid he’s sporting tho

This man has hair for days and there’s just something I find incredibly attractive about that

I want to take it all down and carefully comb through it, play with it and style it again 

Really show him the attention he deserves

If he decided to suffocate me with it, well, I guess I wouldn’t complain about that either

Now, the setting alone had my interest PIQUED right out the gate because I love Middle Eastern inspired aesthetics and I truly don’t think it’s utilized as a setting half as much as it deserves to be. It’s very beautiful imo and the anime team did a pretty good job of capturing that vibe but if I’m being honest I think the manga was better (up to a point)

However there ain’t nothing quite like seeing your man move on screen or hearing his voice with your own two ears and when I say Judal put on a show each time he showed up ... 🥵

I think I can safely say my pussy clenched whenever I got so much as a whiff of him possibly making an appearance, PHEW

He’s just so pretty and mean

My favorite combo tbh

“But why do you like mean boys so much 🤔?” You ponder aloud and my answer to that is “I don’t know. I just do.”

Judal gets my kitty purring for a variety of reasons but the biggest is probably that I can’t look at him without imagining myself as his feisty little slave girl, wearing nothing but sheer silk and delicate gold chains, completely at his mercy ...

Oops, did I say that out loud? 😳

I mean, can you really blame me when he’s running around in those baggy harem pants though?? Can you really???

So the first thing you probably thought was: damn. This guy kinda dressed like a thot 👀

And you’re not wrong

Does he HAVE to dress like that? Strictly speaking, no. But I am definitely not complaining about his fashion choices

His titties are so close to popping out of that tiny little shirt that we’d be getting nip slips left, right and center if he had any more meat on his bones than that and trust me when I say he did that shit on purpose

This boy is SUCH a fucking tease and he loves the attention it gets him - first and foremost because he’s used to being the CENTER of attention but we’ll get more into that a little bit later

Hes just a tad 👌 narcissistic, loves to show off, definitely bipolar and is in a constant state of feeling himself so he’s hitting all his marks as far as I’m concerned

In short, he’s perpetually oozing big dick fuck boy energy and I live for it

That’s why he’s always showing up with that stank ass attitude, he knows damn well he can pull the baddest bitch around AND her man too

He’d fuck you and your boyfriend at the same time just to prove a point, that’s actually how petty he is

Honestly though I’d like to see ANYbody maintain their resolve when he’s laying on the charm and Judal’s just cruel enough to do it for shits and giggles

Probably wakes up in the middle of his sprawling imperial bed at two in the afternoon and says something like “damn, I need a little pick me up today” and then proceeds to manipulate and harass his lucky unfortunate victim of choice

He’s relentless too and will stop at absolutely nothing to get what he wants, even if that means breaking you in the process

Again, I like the challenge he represents

But also I just like a man who can make me cry 🤷‍♀️

And I don’t doubt he absolutely would. Tears probably turn him on tbh and I’m positive he’s got a bit of a yandere streak too

Are y’all seeing those patterns yet??

So did you guys notice that wand he keeps twirling around like a goddamn baton?

He’s a magic user, or in this case a magi which means he’s literally at the top of the food chain in this universe

He’s special special

Every ounce of confidence he has is rightfully deserved and even tho he’s not the strongest per say, he IS extremely powerful and his destiny as a magi is to influence the world

THE WHOLE ASS WORLD YA’LL

That’s why he’s got such a big fucking ego

I promise these aren’t major spoilers, so you don’t have to worry about that

When he was still a (too precious for words) child, he was abducted by an evil cult so that they could manipulate him and use his powers to influence shit in a bad way. The exact details of what they did to him are hazy, but based on the snippets we did get it seems like they basically put Judal on a pedestal and raised him as if he were some kind of god or a king

I’m talking waiting on him hand and foot, giving him whatever he wanted, essentially worshiping him and using persuasive mind control magic to convince him that he’s the best thing to happen since sliced bread

And it worked

Can you tell exactly how fucked up this kid is right now

Keep in mind here that I’m not saying his screwed up personality isn’t the result of some seriously bad mojo

Magi are supposed to be what tips the scales of fate in this setting which, generally, means for the betterment of the world and this whack ass cult pointedly steered him down a path he otherwise would not have gone

But it’s this tragic past of his that really brings the whole package together

He could be a mean pretty boy for no other reason than because he wants to and I’d still drop into a split on his cock

I like mean for the sake of mean too

It’s just that knowing what made him the way he is gives us the perfect amount of insight to truly feel sympathetic despite all the bad shit he has done and will continue to do

Personally, it makes me want to be the one to show him genuine, tender affection no matter how much he’s initially appalled by the mere suggestion so in a lot of ways it’s similar to how I feel towards Hiei

But that doesn’t mean I want him to change and start being n - 🤢 start being nice - 🤮

He’s perfect just the way he is and there’s just something about big, confident egos that gets me going like little else

And Judal seems to truly believe he’s the greatest gift the world has ever received and he’s not wrong about that imo so yeah he definitely has an attitude problem

But that also means he’s a spoiled brat tho and he’s definitely one of those dudes who needs to be dommed on occasion to really get the full experience 👀

I am not too shy to pin him down and milk his cock for all it’s worth, that is all I’m saying fam

And can I just point out how breathtakingly gorgeous he’d look all flushed and sweaty, whimpering like a needy little bitch in heat while having his prostate relentlessly teased for hours on end?

Goodness, it suddenly got HOT in here, is that just me??? 💦

Ofc the only way that’s gonna happen is if he allows it - which I don’t see being a common occurrence - but that’s why you gotta take advantage of that shit when it does 👀

On the topic of Judal being spoiled, I want to mention that there are actually TWO very different backdrops that I can thot around with him in, and I like that

There’s the fantasy Middle East setting ofc which I personally can’t get enough of

I’m wearing the slave girl Leiah outfit in my mind right now btw

But he also spends a lot of time in this worlds version of ancient China complete with all the dramatic robes and elegant architecture to really set the mood

He has an entire imperial palace on lock and if that doesn’t get you even a little bit horny then idk what to tell you

The royal family for the most part treats him like one of their own despite not being related in any way, if that tells you exactly how much clout he pulls in this setting, and even tho they’re essentially using him for their own gain Judal doesn’t seem to mind it one bit

He likes being at the top and having the freedom to do whatever he wants so if that means doing a little dirty work for the Kou Empire then so be it

And I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t be a ride or die on these little errands

Like, just imagine this pretty boy pulling up to you on his flying carpet (that’s not a joke or something I just pulled out of my ass btw) and asking if you want to come back to his crib for some fun

You say yes, because you might be a thirsty slut but you’re certainly not STUPID

And he straight up takes you to a fucking palace

Be honest with me guys, how fast do the panties come off tho?

Be real with me here

This is actually just the plot of Aladdin but with the gender roles reversed 🤣

Fr fr though, A Whole New World plays softly in the back of my mind every time I think about this dude, except it’s much darker and ... explicit 😏

But my point here is that Judal’s got basically everything he could ever possibly want so he really just needs a pretty little concubine at his side to complete the picture

And I dead ass feel like it should be ME

When I say this man could get it ....

OOF

He is TROUBLE in its purest form and I regret nothing about my choice in fictional men

Absolutely nothing

He could honestly fuck me up seven ways to Sunday and I’d thank him for the honor

Spit on me, king. Please. I don’t need nothing else to sustain me

Unless you want to throw some of that choice dick in for free? 👀

Lord  have MERCY

[telehxhtrash]

Hello! I had a very nice idea while I was trying to sleep yesterday, so here it is: Killugon Circus AU! Can I have some headcanons please?

Hello !! I LOOOOOVE this idea so much omg !!!! it’s such a good idea !!! 

• Killua ran away from home and was looking for something fun and exciting to do, and saw a circus poster by the side of the road, which made him decide to join it on impulse.

• Gon has been in the circus since he was 12. He was looking to travel the world and seeked excitement and thrill, which the circus provided for him!

• Gon would do aerial silk because it makes him feel like he’s on top of the world and he loves having all eyes on him. Killua can pretty much do anything, but decided to specialize in contortionism. (my original thought was gon working with animals and killua doing aerial silk but gon would never join a circus with animals bc its cruel)

• Gon is that crowd-pleaser, everyone knows him and loves him, he’s pretty much the star of the show. When Killua first joins the circus, he likes to stay back and observe Gon while not paying him too much attention, until Gon meets his gaze and winks at him, which makes him roll his eyes but still blush a little.

• Gon is intrigued by the new kid, and decides to take him under his wing (even though they’re the same age HAHA), and decides to teach him the ropes of everything. 

• Turns out Killua is pretty much skilled at everything, and during one of Gon’s training where he decided to relentlessly embarass Killua by being very flirtatious in his demeanor, Killua decided to play into his game too. With the excuse of “correcting his posture”, he takes the occasion to lightly graze his fingers on Gon’s waist a bit longer than necessary, and Gon’s blush makes Killua smile snarkily.

• They make it a habit of watching each other’s training, Gon making as much eye contact as possible while up high, and Killua getting very close to Gon during his routine because he noticed it flustered him a little.

• They’re both idiots who do shenanigans all the time around the circus. They’re always messing around, bickering with the other, and always up to no good (one day, Gon threw a pie at Killua’s face and the chase that ensued almost made the tent collapse).

• After each show, they hang out in each other’s caravan, telling each other stories about their lives, laughing at the other’s dumb jokes, generally enjoying each other’s presence.

• Gon always seems to know his way around every city they go to, and takes Killua to every good spot in town. When Killua happened to mention liking sweets one night, Gon dragged him to the best chocolate shop in town the very next day, insisting on the fact that it was a date.

• One day, Gon walked in on Killua practicing aerial silk, and decided to join him. Dancing around each other, skin almost touching but not quite, prolonged eye contact and shy smiles. Until when they’re both up, up high, their chests heaving from exhaustion and the light reflects in Killua’s sapphire eyes in just the right way, Gon decides to gently close the distance between their lips.

i absolutely ADORE the concept of circus AU !!! i hope my headcanons were alright HAHA my brain is mush <3 but thanks it’s such a wonderful idea i love it so much !!! 

[lemonsandstrawberries]

I was First

fandom: Stony (Steve x Tony), MCU

summary: It is Tony's 50th birthday and while Tony doesn't have any expectations, Steve wants to celebrate early.

length: 1 480

a/n:  Happy Birthday, Tony Stark! Endgame, what? Don't know her. And Tony has the best butt in MCU, don’t even get me started on it! Hope you will like the fic and as always, feedback, reblogs and likes are appreciated and needed!

——————–

I was First

"Hey, babe... Babe? Tony? Hey, Tony. Babe. Babe. Babebabebabebabebabebabe-"

Tony pulled his eyebrows together, the annoying sound getting to him through his sleep. It was like someone had been relentlessly poking on his skull, every syllable drilling into his mind. Groggily, he forced his eyes to open, blinking in the dim glow of the night lamp.

"Wha - Steve?" Tony croaked out, wrapped in the covers up to his waist and comfortably smushed, belly first, in the soft mattress on his and Steve's marital bed. With some effort, Tony lifted himself on his elbows, turning his head to the side, trying to locate his husband. "Steve, what the heck-" he complained, finally finding his husband, sitting at his side and smiling too brightly for no apparent reason.

Tony didn't know that someone could smile so much, but somehow Steve did it, adding a lot more enthusiasm into his already perky self and looking elated with Tony being awake.

"Happy birthday, sweetheart," Steve said in a cheery voice, leaning in closer and pecking Tony's cheek in a tender kiss.

Birthday?

The annoyed feeling from being woken up got replaced by something warmer and fuzzy. Well, that was cute. Annoying to be woken up, but cute to receive birthday wishes from his husband as the first person.

"Aw, thanks, Ste-," Tony didn't finish when he noticed the numbers displayed on the digital clock.

12:01 am. AM. As at midnight. Not noon.

And the annoyed feeling was back.

"Steve!" Tony scolded, not believing that his husband woke him up, barely an hour after Tony managed to fall asleep. That was just cruel. "God! You couldn't wait until morning?!" Tony hissed, wrenching the pillow from underneath his face and covering his head with, wanting to fall back to sleep in comfortable darkness.

"I wanted to be the first to wish you happy birthday," Steve said and Tony didn't need to look to know that his husband jutted his lip forward in a sorry pout, that made him look extra adorable. "I bet your social media is already flooded with wishes!"

Tony groaned from underneath the pillow. Maybe. His birth date was there in the open, for everyone to see and Iron Man had quite a fanbase. It was cute that people cared, but at the same time, it could get a bit overwhelming. This year, Tony didn't plan anything special on his birthday, seeing that he was turning -

"Any ideas what you want to do on your 50th birthday?" Steve asked in a happy voice, the mattress dipping under his weight as he plopped down on his side, next to Tony.

Tony just groaned again, only wanting to sleep. Why his husband couldn't get a hint.

"On my 100th birthday we went to Disneyland for a week, do you remember it, Tony?" Steve continued to chat, not bothered by his husband's attempt to shield himself. "Remember that teacup ride? They should put warnings on those things, I almost puked on your shoes once we were off."

Tony remembered that Disney trip and how happy Steve had been, just grinning and skipping in joy like a child, even if the first ride almost made him vomit. Some pretzels and a cup of water later, Steve had been good to go, choosing more and more daring rides. It was a great trip.

"Sooo... Any wishes for your birthday?" Steve asked in a low whisper, and Tony felt light fingers brushing against his shoulder. It was nice and caused a shiver to travel up his bare back.

"A slide and a ball pit," Tony muttered out, not thinking it through, just hoping that coming up with something ridiculous would make Steve leave him alone and let him sleep.

"That could be arranged," Steve laughed and Tony just groaned. He didn't have the mind power to discuss his birthday. "Alright, I will let you go back to sleep," Steve said generously and shifted on the bed, probably reaching his hand to turn the night lamp off. "Just to be clear - the official version is that I was the first one to wish you a happy birthday, right?"

"Right," Tony croaked out, his body really wanting to get back to sleep.

"Great," Steve said, again in that cheery voice, and for a second Tony had doubts if he would get any sleep if Steve showed that level of enthusiasm, "go back to sleep, babe," he added in a softer voice, pulling the covers up Tony's back, wrapping him in warmth.

"Mhhhm," Tony hummed gratefully, his eyes already closed. Sleep.

Instead of laying still and joining his husband for the night, Steve fidgeted on the bed. "Isn't there a custom that you should get your ass spanked on your birthday, one slap for each year?" Steve asked, and Tony wasn't sure anymore if he was thinking out loud or talking to him. "I think there is. We should do it now. Fifty slaps!"

Tony didn't expect to have his ass swatted, and his body jumped after the first slap, luckily, it was the gentle kind of a swat. More like a pat, really, just with enough force to let him feel it, but not to hurt or leave a bruise. Quite nice.

And that's how Tony fell to sleep, listening to Steve counting the fifty slaps at his ass, and vaguely aware that at some point, Steve played his butt cheeks like bongos, quietly singing 'happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday my husband, happy birthday to you.'

When morning finally came, Tony stretched in bed, slowly wakening up. He was alone in the bedroom, and rolled on his side, reaching for his phone and smiling when he noticed the hour.

9:30 am.

A much better hour to wake up to.

And seemed that Steve was right, and his phone did blow up with notifications overnight, starting from text messages from Rhodey and Pepper and ending on social media posts from people all over the world. Out of curiosity, Tony opened his twitter and skimmed through his wall, smiling at each message, until he got to that one post, with the highest amount of likes and retweets, already trending.

Post made by SteveSR_CaptainAmerica. Official account.

It was a photo of Tony and Steve. Both were in bed, Tony flat on his stomach, wrapped in covers, Steve grinning at the camera and holding the digital clock they kept on their nightstand. The displayed hour was 12:36 am.

'I was first. Happy Birthday to the love of my life!' A simple caption and a bunch of grinning emojis and birthday related ones. And the hashtags went on and on and the more Tony read, the more mortified he was.

#happybirthdaytonystark, #happybirthdayironman, #happybirthdaytomyhusband, #FIRST, #lookatthatbutt #ONLYLOOK, #canttouchthis, #mine, #bestbuttintheworld, #stillsmokingat50, #captainamericasfavoriteass

Tony felt a lot more awake and paid closer attention to the photo. While Steve was on the foreground and there was no doubt that it was him, there was no real proof that the man wrapped in the covers was Tony. Well, Tony knew it was him, but it couldn't be so obvious to others. Maybe his sleep ruffled hair was a hint, sticking out from underneath the pillow, or the visible wedding ring on his finger for people who would zoom in, but the most obvious indication was right in the middle of the photo, covered with the thin sheets, but still sticking out enough to be recognizable.

#lookatthatduckbutt, #duckybutt, #ducky, #quackquack

Tony felt embarrassed. Somehow humiliated. Just at the same time, it was so damn funny, he started laughing, just to himself, while alone in the bed. So the Happy Birthday concert Steve had played on his butt during the night was just the tip of madness.

"Happy birthday, boss!"

"Thanks, Friday," Tony smiled, laying in bed, happy and content. "Where is Steve?"

"Captain is during a meeting in the conference room. He told me to give you a message that he will be back after 10 am."

"Hmmm, okay," Tony hummed, working his phone with quick fingers. Aaaand retweet. Tony put the phone away and curled underneath the covers, feeling that he could enjoy some peace and quiet in bed, before Steve would come back and Tony would have to start his day for good. "Please make sure that Steve checks his twitter account."

"Sure thing, boss."

"Thanks," Tony yawned and pulled the covers more over himself, imagining the hubbub his and Steve's exchange would cause, but that would be something for the PR team to take care of and Tony didn’t feel like being bothered, especially on his birthday. To his account, Tony retweet Steve's post, adding comments of his own.

'I confirm it, Steve was first. Thank you all for birthday wishes!' #happybdaytome, #stevecalmyoselfgddamit, #nextime, #stickaflaginit, #andclaimitforamerica #loveyouhusbanddontkillme

Somehow, Tony could hear Steve laughing all the way from the conference room.

-------

Tony wanting a slide and ball pit was inspired by the fact that RDJ had a slide and ball pit on his 50th birthday party

[marmolady]

Livita: Part Two

Book/Series: Endless Summer

Main Pairings: Estela x MC/Taylor (f)

Summary: Post-ending. Freed from Vaanu, Taylor has been building a life with her soulmate… but their family remains not quite complete. Read PART ONE and PART THREE.

Word Count: 3545

Reviews and reblogs are hugely appreciated!

Tagging: @sceptilemasterr​ @saivilo​ @greengroove 

San Trobida, March 2023

 The months initially dragged by; the nervous wait for those vital early milestones agonising. Life had taught Estela that nothing good ever came easily; at any moment this could all turn to tragedy-- she woke up each morning with no expectation that she wouldn’t have lost the baby by the next. Taylor was far more secure in her optimism, though at times it did threaten to crumble. Some five weeks in, the pair were married, officially, in the grounds of Catalyst International’s new San Trobidan resort, surrounded, of course, by their extended family. At the end of the night, Estela had said ‘screw you’ to fate, and confided her condition to her tio, who had wept with joy. His belief in her, the support unyielding as always, did wonders to help her through those most vulnerable days.

After the twelve week scan, there was a joint exhale of relief, and the reality that this was happening at last began to set in. Through those early months, home was San Trobida with Tio Nicolas. In time, Estela and Taylor would return to La Huerta, where they had always planned to raise their child, close to Aleister and Grace’s own little family, and to Diego and Varyyn. Estela would not be fit to travel for a whole lot longer, though, so the time spent with her uncle was precious.  While in San Trobida, Taylor was faced with a rush to establish her youth programmes during the brief window in which she’d be available with her full attention. The country was in the midst of a great rebirth, its people boldly stepping out from the shadows left by the cruel dictatorship that the revolutionaries had brought to its knees. To be able to play her own part in that story was, to Taylor, an immense honour, and a responsibility she took very seriously. Those fleeting months were intense, with meetings on top of meetings and enough networking to test even her people skills. Once the baby arrived, everything else would take a back seat, and her role would be as a part-time counsellor specialising in LGBTQ+ youth, and a mentor to students-- all of which she could carry out from their La Huerta home.

Estela had slowly dialed back her role with Catalyst International-- with both herself and Aleister on parental duties, delegation had become increasingly necessary. She kept up with the few bits and pieces that interested her, primarily assistance and scholarships for San Trobidan students, which allowed her to work nicely in tandem with Taylor, but anything else could be someone else’s problem. Staying with her uncle, a sense of peace had descended upon Estela. Her body gradually changed-- and morning sickness had plagued her-- but she took it in her stride.

The front door creaked as Taylor strode through. “Honey, I’m home!” She found Estela sitting cross-legged on the couch, leafing through a collection of baby sewing patterns. “Hey, are you feeling better?”

“Better. You didn’t have to come home….”

“As if I need an excuse to be with you.” Taylor crossed the room, and sat herself beside her wife. “I finished what I needed to get done. So, I got myself back to where I needed to be.”

Estela huffed happily. “I won’t complain. Maybe we could work on that blanket some more. You know how much of a kick Tio gets out of the sight of me knitting.”

“Yeah,” Taylor giggled. “He laughs, but I’m pretty sure he knows you are more than capable of disemboweling someone with those needles if a threat came up.”

“Of course. A spear could never be so subtle.”

They laughed together, then Estela took Taylor’s hands. “Actually, I wanted to share something with you, in my room. We can knit at the same time.”

Estela’s old room had changed little since she was a teenager; it was a cramped but cosy space, decked out with just a few shelves of childhood possessions and faded photographs upon a narrow dresser. Nowadays, alongside the charred-edged photo of a young Estela on the beach with her mother and uncle, was another of Estela-- now older, far more battle-scarred and world-weary-- on the very same beach, her arms around a smiling Taylor. Sat on that worn single bed, Estela could enjoy the comfort of familiarity as she carried on her journey toward a great unknown… and with her wife beside her, she found the courage to face the shadows that crept in along with those memories.

“Gordita, I made you up some of your horrible patacones,” Nicolas announced, pushing open the bedroom door with a shoulder as he presented a large plate. Since the pregnancy had been announced, Estela had been his gorda, with no care paid to how small her bump might actually be. At six months along, though, the belly was living up to that new nickname. “I despair. You get rid of one dictator, and suddenly we have jumped-up young people thinking they can eat peanut butter and jelly with their patacones. Is this the terrible price of freedom? Have I made a grave error?”

Estela snorted with laughter, taking the plate as her uncle kissed her forehead. “And yet you made these up for me; I must be very loved.”

“Always, mija. But you should notice there are some with mango salsa for your poor wife. I won’t have her suffer for your insanity.”

Taylor smiled, gratefully taking a patacone.Nicolas has been doting on the both of them relentlessly since the news had been broken-- Taylor didn’t think she’d ever seen him quite so happy. When the time finally came for them to leave for La Huerta, it would be a great wrench. “Cheers! You’re the best.”

“I’ll have that in writing, Taylita.” Nicolas’ eyes twinkled as he looked over his nieces. The time was fast approaching that they would be on their way again, ready to start the greatest of adventures. He would miss them so. La Huerta had never been a draw to him-- he’d not visited once-- but there was no doubt in his mind that even his stubbornness would have to concede once Estela had that baby in her arms. There was not a force on heaven or earth that could keep him away. “Okay, gorda. I will leave you to it. I’m sure you’ll let me know if you have any other culinary abominations you want me to whip up.”

“Thanks, Tio.”

Alone together in their small sanctuary, Estela and Taylor cuddled close. Taylor braved a nibble of one of Estela’s controversial patacones and admitted that Nicolas had a point. Those things just weren’t right.

“I’m with Tio,” she said. “Our little nene has played havoc on your taste buds.”

Estela chuckled, more forced than she’d have liked. There was something else on her mind. And it hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“Hey. Are you okay? You had something you wanted to show me?”

For a moment, Estela considered changing her mind. It had been over a decade that she’d avoided this, what was to say that now was suddenly the right time? The bump of a little foot up against her ribs gave her clarity. She wanted to show this to her baby someday; that meant she had to brave it. She pulled up her laptop and placed it on the bedside table, then rummaged in a drawer, taking out a disc.

“It’s… it’s our old home videos.” She took a deep breath. “Tio put it on a DVD ages back to make sure we didn’t lose it, and he had an extra copy made for me. You know, just in case I ever….” Her cheeks became pink. “I… I haven’t watched this for a long time.” How long, she didn’t say, but she didn’t doubt that Taylor would know, understand.

Taylor squeezed her wife, her own pulse quickening. She knew this was huge. “I would love to watch with you. So much. But only if you’re really ready.”

“I think sometimes, the closest thing you’re ever going to get to being ready is wanting to be.” Estela offered a wobbly smile as she picked up on Taylor’s concern. “Mi amor, I’m okay. I’m doing this with you.”

She leaned into Taylor as the DVD began to play. Then came a voice that made her heartbeat quicken.

“Hola Nicolas!” Olivia said, waving with one hand, while she supported the small infant Estela with the other. “Here she is! This is your niece. This is Estela.”

Taylor felt Estela’s hand clench around the bottom of her shirt, clinging on for comfort. She placed her own hand on top and gently squeezed. I’m here.

They watched as Olivia placed the infant in a bassinet, then picked up the camera to give a tour of her home.

“So, this is the first place I lived; my mom’s apartment in Colombia,” Estela explained, her voice shaking at first, then steadying. This… didn’t hurt as much as she’d anticipated. If anything, it was a comfort. The last pieces of film she’d seen of her mother had been that horrifying footage in the Elysian, and the VR warning message from Olivia’s office in the MASADA complex. This was Estela’s mother as she knew her, the person she’d been missing so painfully. There was the inevitable pang of longing as she looked at that face, but the wash of memories made her seem closer than she’d been for so many years. “It was a few months before she had everything sorted so we could move to Tio Nicolas’ place, so Mom made a videotape to send him. A friend at the lab she worked at gave her the camera; it was so Tio could see the new baby, but we used it a long time after that.”

With the apartment tour complete, the camera was placed down on some unseen table or stand, and Olivia came back into the frame, picking up baby Estela and cradling her in her arms.

“If you’re lucky, you might get a smile out of her,” Olivia said, grinning as she gently tickled Estela under her chin. “The twentieth of July was her first real smile. You’re going to laugh at me, but I cried. Maybe you’ll get it when you meet her. She’s just so, so beautiful. I swear I’m addicted to this girl.”

Taylor snuggled under Estela’s arm, and watched, entranced, as the baby on the screen grew and changed under the loving care of her mother, and then uncle as well.

“Wow, Tio Nicolas looks different!” she commented, to Estela’s chuckle. Time, unimaginable stress, and facial hair could do that to a person. It was impossible not to smile as she watched the young Nicolas bouncing his little niece on his foot. That he’d be utterly, totally smitten with Estela’s own child had to be the surest thing in the world. Taylor saw on that screen an image of a dream come true, a future that now lay before her and Estela. God, could I be any more clucky right now?

“That’s going to be us, Taylor. Our own little family.”

Instinctively, Taylor put her hand to Estela’s bump, stroking it. Her family with her soulmate; it wasn’t what she’d been made for, but she was certain it was what she was meant for.

“I’m going to be someone’s mom. When I think about it, it’s just… incredible.” She cuddled in close, and gently kissed Estela’s cheek and forehead. “It means so much that you shared this with me.” She gestured to the screen. That had taken a whole lot of bravery. “Watching this… I see so much of you when I see your mom.”

“She would have been an amazing abuelita,” Estela said softly. Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply. Her mother’s sacrifice had brought her to Taylor. This new family would carry a great deal of Olivia Montoya’s influence, though she’d never know. “Thank you. I know it’s silly for me to say this, but I really appreciate you saying that. I’m gonna do her proud.”

The child on the screen was older now, toddling around the so-familiar house on stumpy legs. She held in her arms a soft doll.

“Oh-- that’s Babydoll. I was… creative at naming things when I was two. Mami gave him to me on my birthday, and I just took him everywhere. It always made sense to me; there was no way in hell Mami would ever leave me it home, so how could I ever leave my baby?”

“So, when you say you always wanted to be a mom?”

“Yeah, it goes back a long way.” Estela stroked her belly, meeting Taylor’s hand there. “I’m glad I had no idea just how rough the path would be… how that dream just burned and died. But we’re going to get there.”

She could see it. A lot of what had made her childhood had been lost in a wash of pain and trauma, but it couldn’t be taken away completely. Those memories, there before her, they were still a part of her. Those warm family moments were hers to pass on to her own child.

“Actually, I think Mom kept Babydoll. Maybe as a souvenir of my brief period of childhood innocence. I should dig him out--” She faltered, and her cheeks flushed. This shouldn’t still be a problem….

Catching on in an instant, Taylor squeezed Estela’s knee, and met her eye with a warm and loving gaze. “We have time. And if we need to enlist Tio Nicolas to do most of the necessary rummaging, that’s fine too. It would be really nice for nene to have something of yours.” Memories were powerful. They made up so much of who each person was. Lacking her own childhood, Taylor had found herself gain a great deal from Estela’s, something that had always been generously shared with no hesitation, in spite of the pain that came with those memories. That family history was important, and it bonded them together.

With a small, appreciative smile, Estela nodded. “Yes… we have time.”

  La Huerta, May 2023

 “Right; tell me. Which end am I kissing?” Taylor scooched forward in the sand, reveling in the gentle heat of the lowering sun upon her back and shoulders.

“That’ll be nene’s back.” Estela gestured to her lower belly, then the top. “Head. Butt. Right where they should be.”

Taylor smiled warmly, and went back to lay another kiss against her wife’s swollen abdomen. “Bub’s got it all worked out. Ready to high-tail it outta there and start lapping up the cuddles.”

“It’s come around fast,” Estela stated. It had. Almost too fast. Pregnancy had been an adjustment for sure, but she’d become comfortable with sharing her body with the small passenger. She could take care of herself, and that meant that baby’s needs were met too. What came next was a great unknown. Estela knew better than most how good intentions of keeping a beloved child out of harm’s way could go up in flames. What her life had been… grateful though she was for the person it had made her, she didn’t want a life like that for her baby. She could tell herself that it would be different, that the fight was over, but she’d seen too much to not be protective. The person she might have gone to for reassurance, the person who’d truly have understood, was long lost to her. Rarely had Estela missed her own mother more than in these days leading up to the big event. It made her all the more grateful for Taylor; already completely besotted with the tiny person they were waiting to meet. In Taylor, her loving hero, she had all the faith in the world.

“Yeah...” Taylor put on a forlorn gaze as she looked up into Estela’s shining eyes. “Just a few more days, and I won’t be able to outrun you anymore. I’m pretty devastated.”

“You’re a beautiful dork, Taylor. But don’t worry. You’ll be able to keep ahead of nene for a few years, if you’re lucky.”

Taylor snuggled into Estela’s lap, and together, they watched the sun journey towards the horizon. The rising tide licked at their bodies. All was peaceful, tranquil; the only sounds were the rolling of the waves, the calls of tropical birds, and the distant laughter of children in Elyys’tel, voices carried upon the wind. Taylor quietly studied Estela from head to toes, taking in everything. The pregnancy had added further lines to Estela’s scar-painted body; marks of something happy at last. Her carriage gave off a quiet confidence; the baby was safe in its strong, resilient vessel. And in Estela’s face, once the vision of heavy burdens, so great that it might might have been those of the whole world… quiet, happy serenity. Taylor felt a wave of affection wash over her. It happened to her a lot. Goodness knew how she’d ever get anything done when she had Estela and the baby to love on all day.

“Estela?”

“Mi amor?”

“You know, I think a part of me is going to miss this. Being able to put my arms around you and hold the two people I love most in the world at the same time.”

Estela’s lips quirked into a smile. “You’ll still be able to do that. Soon enough, baby will be hugging you back.”

“It’s… got to be normal to be a little scared, right? I’ve got nothing, nothing at all to look back and remember as a reference for how the hell to raise a kid. What if I--”

“Taylor.” Estela took Taylor’s face in her hands; gentle but firm. God, Taylor… no one could ask for more than to be loved by you. “I’m scared too. But I’d be a hundred times more scared if I wasn’t doing this with you. It’s a whole actual person depending on us. A whole person we could screw up in a million different ways. But we won’t. Taylor, look at me. You won’t. Just… be scared with me. And all of us… we’ll be okay.”

Taylor pulled herself up and put both arms around Estela. Holding the two people she loved most at the same time. To be scared with Estela was almost to not be afraid at all. “You’re right. Wise Mama Estela.”

“Because of you. Don’t forget that.” And Estela kissed the tip of her beloved’s nose, growing cold with the retreat of the sun. She gave a little wink. “Mama Taylor.”

Her eyes glazing dreamily as she stared out to the sunset over the sparkling sea, Taylor felt a little kick against the arm that she had around Estela’s middle. She didn’t even need to look to know that there would be the most beautiful of smiles across her wife’s face. Pure elation. Mama Taylor? She could get used to that.