#so here's my very first graphic JUST FOR U <333< /div>
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kimdokjas · 2 months ago
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Weren't you supposed to be taken by my beauty?
happy belated birthday, aki ♡ @taohs [insp.]
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irritablepoe · 5 months ago
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“poe has some really dark fantasies and sometimes he lets it slip during crime investigations - ranpo doesn't mind, he's even amused.”
ik u said these are just ur hc but this particular hc is very very plausible to me😭✋,,,i can just see poe, in a crime scene, treating it like a stageplay set up and the people like characters (but he is aware they're real tho, that's just his treatment) let's say an entire family was murdered he’d say things like:
“had the murderer used a jagged knife it would've created some interestingly cut lacerations, don't you think so?”
“the knife wasn't even twisted!! it should've been driven in like a screw so the organs would’ve been torn and swirled, imagine! well, perhaps this was a work of an amateur....”
i can see him hearing a policeman saying what a tragedy and he’d be like??? wdym? this is cliche what special quality made u think something so stale could be a tragedy???
also,, THE CONSENSUAL STALKING IS SO REAL THO WHAT,,,,and during it poe probably can't help but scheme a very verrryyy doable but graphic or disgusting violence against ranpo, observing him in secret and gets so so close to doing it and just cancels it last minute shwyhshwhw he’d scheme something fucked up like (oki this was from a book i read) :: making him drink beatle aphrodisiac which is poisonous to humans, and imagine him, as he’s dying being invaded by beatles from every crevice and orifice just absolutely crawling with it, brimming—mouth, lungs, stomach, ears just beatles clipping at his skin to get under.
then he'll back out last second HSUWHSHWSH
ALSO I LOVE LOVE BODY HORROR!! (loved the annihilation book and movie heh)DO U HAVE ANY STARTER RANPO STORIES AND POE STORY RECS THAT ARE VERY DISGUSTING OR FUCKED OH MYGOHSHSHWWGHW
I HOPE IT'S NOT TOO MUCH TROUBLE HEHHEEHE FEEL FREE TO IGNORE AM RAMBLINSHWHSHHWHHS
ok i'm FINALLY going to answer this, i'm so sorry i took so long (again) BUT THANK YOU AHHH <333
regarding poe's dark thoughts, i actually wrote a bit of it into my longfic of them. here's a snippet of poe letting some self-destructive thoughts slip lol
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also you're so right with him treating other's as characters in a play omg i never thought about it like that but hdfjsdhfksdjfh this is great, i'm adopting that hc!!! :D
HE WOULD SO INSULT THE MURDERER AS AN AMATEUR THO OMG YESSS
and yep yep yep this is so poe, he wouldn't do it but he'd think about it and feel so so guilty afterwards fsfjhskfdh i'm feral
edogawa rampo's works that i've read are
the human chair
the caterpillar - this one is particularly body horror like + actual sexual content, also thoughts about and actual further mutilation of a person (that is more seen as an animal/object, i think i should mention that), it's really dark
the fingers - slight body horror
beast in the shadows - this one is so fucking good, i'm gonna be honest, i've read most of sherlock holmes and not one case was as exciting as this one you have to read this shfjsdkfsf
the case of the murder on d. hill - also very interesting; also the first case of akechi kogoro so that's a good starter story :3
the black hand gang - another akechi story; easy to solve actually, i was very proud that i got the overall idea quite quickly
the ghost - i think there's an important character introduced here but i've not read further so i could be wrong
poe's works that reminded me of bsd poe (I'm not listing every work i've read lol)
the telltale heart ofc but you said you read this one right :3
the imp of the perverse - very similar to the telltale heart, i LOVE this story
starter story is also the murders in the rue morgue - it certainly helps understand murder on d. hill better i think? at least i think akechi mentions edgar allan poe in there but i could be wrong
the black cat is another classic
there certainly are more works of poe that inspired the character but that's all my brain can manage lol (also i've not read every work ofc)
also gladly lmk what you think of them :3333
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seawing-vibes · 2 years ago
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ALSO FOR THE ASKS THING!! U SENT THE UHH DOD HEADCANONS EMOJI THING. SOMEONE ELSE ALSO ASKED THE SAME ONE SO IT GOT ANSWERED!! :))) I DIDNT SEE UR REBLOG UNTIL NOW SO I DIDNT ANSWER THEN SORRY....
BUT ALSO I WANTED TO ASK UHHH
🪶🥀!!!
(-@kinkajouwof, again)
DONT WORRY ABOUT IT!! I figured you probably couldn’t see the tags either way so its alright !!!! Thank you sm for asking me though eheh <33
[🪶 ] Draw/talk about your Favorite Character!
My all time favorite character ever is Tsunami Wings of Fire <3!!! I dont know why she appeals to me so much, I think its just due to her interpersonal development throughout the story?? Shes a strong and headstrong character who is very outwardly confident (and quite boastful) in her abilities but is able to recognize her flaws and make an effort to become better and more understanding!!! We watch her development happen within her narrative and see how it effects her relationships in such an interesting and charismatic way <333 and despite this development she keep her core personality (she is PASSIONATE and develops how she conveys that strong emotion!!) and is just very intriguing to me!!! I love her sm just. Such a cool character. I equally think my love for her stems from me reading the Lost Heir as my very first WoF book and I clung onto that shit so quickly and here we are today PFHB
[🥀 ] Opinion on the Graphic Novel style?
Im gonna be fully honest here, I adore it with my whole heart PAHBJ!!! Its so unique and cool!!! The expressions, face shapes, and movements are drawn quite well and the environments the characters are in are often v pretty and intriguing! There of course are certain things I dont enjoy as much (Summer Palace design…) and yes quite uncanny bits (Mainly anatomy of harms & “hands”, as seen by the Pike Hands Incident) but overall I find it very enjoyable and unique. I have a soft spot for kinda messy art regardless so <333 I love how jagged the style is in the first graphic novel and as more graphic novels come out the better the style develops and its so much fun to see develop for me
Additionally I did a redraw of my favorite lil background illustration from the first graphic novel which also includes Tsunami so doodle that covers both questions <33
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glazelilyy · 2 years ago
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luce!!! HI!!!
how are you doing? you've been good??
sidenote: wanted to say your theme has always been so gorgeous to me and i luv it so so much <3 i also LOVE how you did the character banners. serious question: do you enjoy/have experience with graphic design? you should pursue it if you can, you have an eye for design >:D
hope you're alright!!! wishing you the best of luck in life >:D
hello sky!!! :) <3 i'm so sorry i took so long to reply but i am Here Now >:) i've been doing all right but i wish the weather wouldn't kick my butt all the time :') i hope you've been doing great all this time, i still think about and reread the kaeya fic i requested from you and it always has me giggling and hiding my face in my hands hehehe he's so silly and sweet my little skrunkly BUT I DIGRESS. i've been inactive for a while so i'm looking forward to catching up with you! :)
awww thank you! my theme is actually pre-coded and the original maker is in my pinned post but i did choose the colors based off of kaeya's palette and that was definitely an endeavor :P in the end i'm happy with how it turned out since i've always been a fan of lighter/pastel blue colors that make me feel like i'm inside of a snowflake hehe. and it makes me so happy to hear you like my chara banners!!! i'm definitely going to redo them and change the alternative titles at the bottom to each guy's constellation though to make things simpler :P and to answer your question: no, not at all actually i was just messing around in canva and picking and choosing things until i liked what i saw! :) diluc's was the very first one i made and probably the one i like the most (the pink theme was very unexpected but not unwelcome, everyone could use a little pink in their lives :>) eheughuegehh i'm so flattered you think i have an eye for design though hehe thank u <333
i hope you're doing all right too!! thank you for sending me an ask and again i'm super sorry for taking so long. gonna squeeze this ask oneeeee more time before i send it out into the big wide world hehe <3
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inkykeiji · 4 years ago
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little bit of poison in me
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characters: dabi | todoroki touya, takami keigo | hawks
genre: smut and angst
notes: okay FINALLY!! very loosely inspired by tag you’re it by melanie martinez!! uhh dabi’s a drug dealer, keigo’s in his third year of university and a track star, reader’s in her first year of university. please, please pay attention to the warnings below! if keigo’s your comfort character and you cannot handle him being physically abusive and a drug addict, then you might wanna sit this one out! promise he’ll be painted in a more sympathetic light in part two. | aaah dedicating this to @rat-suki​, because ur the only one who’s actually known the details of this fic since november, and because i put a lil something inspired by new moon in there for u ehehe <333 | title credit: tag you’re it by melanie martinez
warnings: 18+, noncon/dubcon, physical abuse, drug use & abuse + graphic depictions of addiction, mindbreak, overstimulation, manipulation, lowkey yandere vibes (which will get worse), daddy kink, a brother a lil too obsessed with his sister + questionably close sibling relationship, generally toxic relationships (possessiveness, jealousy), rough sex, semi-public sex, cumplay/cum feeding, minimal prep, degradation/dumbification, choking, kinda brat taming???
words: 14.8k
synopsis: 
“Do you wanna come home with Daddy, princess?”
He’s caging you between his body and the murky convenience store window as he asks, both palms pressed flat against the grimy glass.
No. You shouldn’t. You know you shouldn’t, can almost hear your brother’s voice in the back of your mind telling you not to. But you’re too enticed in sapphire to care, drawn into pretty, almost glittering blue fire, letting the flames lick your skin as you immerse yourself in it, deeper and deeper and deeper, and allowing it to wrap itself around you, to consume you, to knock the very breath out of you as you gaze into it.
“Okay,”
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It’s well past midnight, but the moon is still hanging high in the sky, illuminating the dingy shopping mall parking lot, its reflection gleaming on the wet, cracked concrete. Breathless little laughs and squeals of surprise and pleasure ring out among the vast empty space, your own voice echoing around you.
“Gonna get ya, baby,”
He’s chasing after you, legs longer than yours, faster than yours, mischievous little growls getting caught in his chest as you daintily leap away from him, just out his grasp again, the tips of his fingers grazing the soft linin of your dress.
“No!” you giggle, pushing your burning thighs to keep running just a bit longer, propelling you forward.
But he’s getting closer and closer with each pound of his boots against the pavement, encroaching on you more and more with each tiny gasp exhaled through your parted lips.
Eventually, he catches you, like he always does, large hands wrapping around your hips as strong arms pull you backwards against a solid chest. You’re both panting, chests heaving with exertion, bubbles of laughter escaping your throats.
“Tag,” he breathes, hot breath curling around the shell of your ear. “You’re it,”
His arms encircle you, holding you tightly, your own arms covering his, little fingers digging into the skin of his forearms almost possessively as he uses his strength and bodyweight to guide you towards the car—a 1959 Cadillac Eldorado Biarritz that runs like shit and guzzles gas like no tomorrow. But it’s pretty, and he loves it, with all its chrome and argyle blue, glittering in the moonlight.
“You’re being bad, princess,” the words are mumbled against the skin behind your ear, and you can feel the smirk on his lips. “Good girls don’t run away from their Daddies like that,”
And he says the word with so much disdain, cruel and mocking, making you feel sick for liking it.
“Baaad girl,” he whispers, dragging the word out.
A tiny pout settles on your face, eyebrows knitting. “Am not,”
“Are too,”
“Am not,”
“You are,” he chuckles, pressing you against the damp metal of his car as you finally reach it, his body still draped over yours. “What? You gonna fight me on it?”
Squirming a little in his grasp, you turn to face him, a playful glint shining in your glassy eyes as you nudge your nose against his. “I just might!”
“Hah,” the breath of air washes over your face, scorching and sweet, a stark contrast to the humid, cool air surrounding you, causing your exposed flesh to break out into chills. “I’d like to see you try, dollface,”
“Oh, I’m sure you would,” you murmur, yelping when his fingers dig into the supple flesh of your ass through your dress, grabbing a healthy handful and squeezing in retaliation.
“Mmm,” he hums nonchalantly, pushing his forehead against yours, eyes nothing but gaping pupils outlined by a thin ring of sapphire. “You gonna show me?” his rough voice fades into a whisper, unblinking eyes holding yours steadily. Calloused hands are sliding up your thighs now, slipping underneath the thin material of your dress and taking the hem with them.
“N-Not here,” you breathe, trying and failing to pull back from him, eyes widening in alarm as you feel his fingers hook in the waistband of your panties.
“Yes, here,” he responds, voice smooth as velvet as soft lips drag along your neck, sharp teeth sinking into your flesh like a hot knife slicing through butter.
Panic is beginning to rise in your chest, your throat closing up, and you choke a little on your words, shaking your head frantically. “Please, Dabi, no, we could just—”
“Wow, you really want me to bruise that pretty ass of yours,” he smirks, cutting you off and pulling back to gaze at you lazily, lips glimmering with saliva.
“No, I—”
“Especially with how much you’re saying no today,” he tuts his tongue in disapproval. “Such a bad girl; a silly, little, stupid, bad girl,”
Each word is punctuated with a sharp slap to your scantily clad ass, each bringing with them a sharp sting that you can hear, echoing out among the parking lot.
“Not bad,” you whimper, eyes shutting tightly against the familiar burn of tears. “Not bad, j-just wanna—”  
“Wanna what?” he teases, voice mocking yours as his palm collides with your ass again. “Huh?”
“W-Wanna—Want you to fuck me right,” you rush to say, the words exhaled as a singular huff of breath.
“Oh?” he pulls back slightly, eyes searching your face, his own features contorted with false concern. “Is that so?”
You nod quickly, eagerly, and he can see it in your eyes, how desperately you want him to buy your lie.
But you know he hasn’t the moment that trademark smirk returns to his face, mouth curling up at the edges as he leans forward, lips moving against your ear. “I think that’s a boldfaced lie, babygirl,” his voice is low, sinister, dangerous, traces of amusement sown into his tone. “I think it’s because you don’t want anyone to see how much of a little whore you truly are,”
“D-Dabi, please,” you whimper, vision blurry with tears as you paw at his jacket, pleading with him.
He thinks it’s so cute when you beg, his silence imploring you to continue, urgently rambling on in your quest to convince him.
“I-I want you to really fuck me; I want you to leave b-bruises all over my body, I want to feel you in my tummy, I want you t-to stuff me so full of cum that it goes to my brain and makes me stupid, please Daddy, I want—”  
Slim fingers wrap around your neck and squeeze, forcing a cry of surprise from your lips and effectively cutting you off. “I’m gonna make sure you remember those words, sweetheart,”
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The thump of your own heart echoes in your ears as the Cadillac Eldorado thrums under your body, the leather sticking to the bare skin of your thighs.
“Open,” he demands, delivering a harsh slap to the thigh nearest to him, eyes never leaving the road as his foot presses down, car accelerating. Your thighs obey immediately, spreading as far as they possibly can in the cramped space, knees knocking against the door and center console box.
A rough hand, decorated with callouses and scabs, kneads the flesh once before sliding up, up, up, and then hooking in the elastic of your panties, Dabi spitting out a curse as he lets it snap back against your skin.
“Take those off,” he seethes, aggressively ripping his hand away from you as if he’s aggravated that you’re even wearing them at all. Your dress hitches up around your waist in your haste to obey, little fingers catching in the lacy material as your hips squirm, seatbelt cutting into your flesh, wiggling a little as you pull the dainty material down your legs.
He’s already holding his hand out expectantly and you press them into it, waiting for his fingers to close around the garment before taking your hand back. He feels them, rolling the fabric around in his palm, between his fingers, chuckling darkly as he chucks them over his shoulder a moment later, onto the dirty ground of the backseat.
Those were your favourite, but you know better than to say anything, forcing your expression to stay neutral, to keep your nose from wrinkling up in distaste.
“They’re wet, but not nearly wet enough,” he tsks as if he’s disappointed, hand finding your thigh again. This time, they part instantly, without any verbal prompting, hips pushing towards his palm as it skims the skin of your inner thigh.
“Now, I’m gonna play with this cute lil clit of yours,” he begins, fingers brushing the sensitive nub, words tumbling from his lips slowly, lazily, unhurried, as if you’re stupid, as if you need an ample amount of time for each word to sink in.
It makes your pussy throb, and the borderline malicious smirk that spreads across his face tells you that he felt it, too.
Speaking through his smirk, he continues in the same patronizing voice. “And you—you’re going to be Daddy’s good little girl and get nice and wet for him, so he doesn’t hurt his cock when he fucks you. Do you think you can do that for me, sweetheart?”
Yes Daddy, of course Daddy, anything for you, Daddy.
It’s torture in the most delightful way, coarse pads of his fingers just barely grazing your clit, just enough for you to feel it, just enough for you to want—no, need—more. Heat, thick and sticky, pools in the pit of your stomach, thighs straining to open impossibly wider, edges of the car’s interior digging into your knees as you desperately try to shift your hips, to press further into his touch, to evoke anything harder than these teasing, feathery touches.
Blunt nails sink into the tender flesh of your inner thigh, hard enough to make you yelp, entire body flinching from the sudden pain. “Big girls use their words,” he chastises, voice fading from a growl into a pleasant, light tone.
“Please, Daddy, I-I want more,” you whimper, hips still trying to catch your clit on his fingers, on his palm. “Touch me more,”
The hum that vibrates in his throat has your heart sinking, corners of your mouth tugging down as you blink against the sting of disappointment—you know that hum, know it all too well, know all of Dabi’s bizarre mannerisms at this point and what they mean for you. And that hum, the one that only lasts for a moment, the one that’s barely a noise at all, the one that doesn’t even sound like he’s considering anything, means no.
His eyes don’t leave the road in front of him, despite the fact that his car is going faster, and faster, and faster, whipping through the empty city streets, neon buildings and harsh florescent lights becoming nothing but a blur. And if it weren’t for the hard lump straining against the black denim of his jeans, you’d figure him disinterested; facial features relaxed, breathing normal, entirely unresponsive to the pathetic little noises he’s so effortlessly pulling from you.
It ignites a fire in your chest, blazing with the need to make him react, to make him pay attention to you.
Wearing your best pout, you arch your back a little, the action shoving your hips towards his hand again. “Daddy, Daddy,” you whine, low and needy in the back of your throat, looking at him with wide, pleading eyes. “Please, touch me more? Please, Daddy, I want it so bad, want your cock so bad, please, help me get wetter? Wanna be dripping for you, Daddy, I wanna be soaking for you,”
“Fuck,” he breathes, smirk growing into a full grin as he glances at you from the side of his eye. “Such a brat,” he shakes his head, through the grin is still present on his face as he finally presses two fingers against the swollen bud, rubbing slow, hard circles into it. “You better be drenched for me by the time we get home, you little bitch,”
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Large hands are on your body as the two of you stumble up the stairs, nimble fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips, obscene sucking and slurping amplified by the stairwell, bouncing back to your own ears, saliva slicked lips slipping and sliding together messily as teeth clack together, practically tripping over each other’s feet and fucking Christ he needs you, he needs you now, his cock hurts, goddamn it.
And you’d be lying through your teeth if you said you didn’t absolutely love it when he gets like this, all clingy and needy and desperate, hushed little whines catching in the back of his throat, fading from deep, rumbling growls as rough hands paw at you.
A sharp gasp is knocked from your chest as he slams you against the wall on the landing of floor three with such force that your head ricochets off the concrete, your resounding cry silenced by Dabi’s lips, tongue invading your mouth as he swallows your beautiful little noises of pain.
You can feel his cock pressed up against your hip, hot and hard and throbbing through the denim that conceals it as he grinds against you, fervent, eager, impatient.
That panic is bubbling up in your throat again, bitter and acidic and eroding, rendering your voice weak and frail as scabbed knuckles drag across your bare thighs, inching higher and higher.
“Da-Daddy, wait,”
“No,” he growls, biting down on your shoulder hard enough to break the skin. “I’m done waiting,” hands are rucking up your dress. “You made me wait that whole fucking car ride,” sharp hipbones keep your thighs spread. “I can’t wait any longer,” the clinking of his heavy belt buckle echoes throughout the stairwell, sending chills pebbling across your skin.
And then he’s forcing himself into you, shoving his cock into your tight little hole, a choked cry bouncing off the dirty white walls as your eyes squeeze shut, tears leaking from the edges.
The stretch is magnificent, little cunt aching as it sucks in his thick cock, and you swear you can feel the burning in your belly, little pinpricks of pain shooting through your gut.
“G-Gonna tear me in half,” you wail, head falling forward, forehead bumping against his.
“Shh, baby, Daddy’s got you,” a callous laugh leaves his lips after he spits out the nickname, the singular word filled with such derision it must sting his tongue. Large hands hoist you up, and your legs immediately latch around his waist, seeking comfort in the monster that hurt you.
“Daddy, Daddy,” Tears drip down your cheeks as you bury your face in his shoulder, the word escaping your lips in tiny half-sobs catching in your throat, little fingers curling against the worn leather of his jacket.
And he can’t help but soften a little as you weep into his neck, thinks it’s so cute that you need him so bad, your little stuttered breaths hot against his neck as you cling to him, reminding him that he is the only man that can make you feel like this; he is the only man that can make you cry while simultaneously finding solace in his embrace. It makes his blood surge, sends cinders searing up his spine, gives him a high better than any other drug every could, and he finds himself hushing you gently, twitching cock buried in your cute lil cunt, snugly pressed against your cervix.
“Okay, okay,” he’s saying as his hips begin to pump, slow and languid. “Quiet, Daddy’s gonna make it feel good, alright? Daddy’s here, Daddy’s gonna make it go away,”
The sweetest, airiest little mewls of Daddy, yes, Daddy, soak into the inky skin of his neck, sandwiched between uneven hitched breaths. He’s gaining speed with each thrust, though, working up a steady rhythm that has you practically bouncing on his cock, little wails of pain fading into whimpers of pleasure. The combination is dizzying, infecting your mind with a haze that is only Dabi, surrounded by him, immersed in him—glowing sapphire and burning hickory and spicy nicotine—unable to quell the little noises spilling from your throat, each one louder than the next with each bump against your cervix and drag against that spot.  
“That feel better, princess?” he breathes out, pausing just to readjust his grip on your ass—to angle your hips just right, chuckling at your selfish, needy whine—and then he’s drilling his cock into you, head pounding against the spot that has his name escaping your lips in high pitched squeals that break in your throat, heavy belt buckle clanking against the wall with each of his thrusts.
It sends sparks of mind-numbing pleasure burning through your abdomen, your chest, straight to your very core and collecting there, each spark adding to the growing fire that’s beginning to blaze, followed by intense spears of pain, slicing through your gut and down the muscles of your thighs, legs beginning to quiver as ankles hook tighter, tighter, tighter, the heels of your sneakers digging into his back dimples, trying to get him closer, closer, closer, desperately begging for more, more, more.
Yet it’s all so much, too much, please, Daddy—the harsh sound of metal colliding with concrete mingling with your pathetic whines and his panted breaths, rough whimpers catching deep in his chest, and you don’t think you’ve ever heard a more beautiful sound.
“C’mon, babygirl,” he gasps, pace never slowing, never faltering once, even though there’s glistening dewdrops of sweat decorating his hairline, inky strands beginning to stick to the skin of his forehead. “Be a good girl and cum for Daddy, cum before someone catches you being such a sweet little—God, Christ—a sweet little slut for me,”
And your cunt submits, would never dare to disobey a direct command from its master, from its owner, clenching around him as you cream all over his cock, a sharp cry ripping up your throat as your nails scrabble against leather clad shoulders.
A growl rumbles, deep and dark and dangerous in his chest, as his hips piston a few more times before they still, tips of his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass, branding his name in tiny blotches of navy and violet as his cock throbs, coating your insides with spurts of thick cum.
Head falling forward, his forehead collides with yours, chests heaving and breathing laboured. And he can’t help the little chuckle he huffs out as you wiggle your hips a little, eyes still closed as you rock in little motions against him, clit catching on his pubic bone.
Needy little bitch.
But he isn’t nearly done with you yet, because that desire, thick and sticky in the very pit of his stomach, only wants more, insatiable and voracious, desperate for more of your whines, more of your tears, more of your cunt.
You’re gonna make good on all those words you spewed in the parking lot, baby, he’s nearly snarling at you, cutting off your whiny complaints as he drags you up the final flight of stairs, stopping halfway to haul you over his shoulder with a huff and a deft slap to your ass, carrying you the rest of the way to his apartment.
“Dress, off. Now.” He orders as he throws you onto his mattress, pulling his shirt over his head, belt buckle jingling as he walks, still hanging undone.
And then he’s crawling over your naked body, lips attacking yours, smashing and smacking and slurping, a large hand wrapping around your wrists as he shoves his tongue into your mouth, laving over yours in slow, deliberate drags, pinning your wrists against the cold cracked drywall behind his nearly bare, minimalistic bed, squeezing hard enough to grind the bones together between a singular rough palm—a silent warning—and forcing a yelp from your throat into his.
“Don’t move them,” his lips mumble the command against yours before he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, between sharp gleaming teeth that bite down hard, sinking into the soft flesh and refusing to release until he tastes copper, the tip of his tongue tracing the harsh indents left behind, licking at your lip once more before pulling away completely.
“I want you to leave bruises all over my body!” he mimics, voice absurdly high as lips skim the curve of your neck, tongue darting out to trace along your collarbones. “Isn’t that what you said, baby?”
But you can’t answer, too busy sucking on your now swollen lip, trying to soothe the incessant throbbing as metal stains your tongue. That’s disrespectful, you think you hear him growl into your unmarred skin before something sharp pierces your nipple, clamping down around it and tugging. A resounding cry tears through your throat as your body instinctually bows off the bed, pressing further into him, a muffled snicker vibrating against your chest before his tongue flicks, licks, slobbers, thick strings of saliva glimmering in the dim light as he pulls away, breaking and slapping against his chin.
“Answer me next time I ask you a fucking question,” The words are spit so harshly they slice into your skin, head nodding fervently before he’s even finished speaking, blinking the bleariness from your eyes. Smoldering sapphire holds your gaze for a moment, burning into your very soul—digging, prying, searching, scrutinizing, his breathing slow, calm, controlled with each deep rise and fall of his bare chest.
You aren’t sure what it is he’s looking for as he peers into the depths of your eyes, but you don’t dare let your gaze stray from his, don’t dare blink, don’t dare breathe until he breaks the spell, blinking once as his lips curl up into a wicked smirk.
“I’m gonna turn your body into a work of art,” he promises you, voice low and guttural, forcing thorns of ice up your spine as lips drag across your jaw.
And he does, paints little galaxies across your skin with his tongue and his lips, asymmetrical blotches of blues and greys and purples, ivory bones scraping against your flesh, signing his name into his masterpiece in deep, dark indents of crimson and violet.
It aches and it pulses and it stings, glittery trails of salt water staining your cheeks, tiny shimmering droplets clinging to your clumped, spiky lashes, adding the finishing touches on the greatest piece he’s ever created.
And it’s so pretty, you’re so pretty when you’re like this, baby, covered in navy and plum and carmine, and, fuck, it’s a shame you won’t stay like this.  
It seems he’s in a trance for a moment, in awe of his craftsmanship, of what he’s produced, breathing laboured as shining azure eyes drift over your body, slowly, purposefully, as if he’s memorizing every single nick, bite, scrape, bruise, burning the image into his brain forever.
His gaze floats back up to yours, holding it for a moment, pupils big and gaping and swallowing you whole—before something snaps, breaks, and he comes back to himself, remembers why he did it.
Narrowing slightly, his eyes darken, that sadistic smirk returning to his lips. And then he’s shoving his cock into you again, hard and leaking and the prettiest red you’ve ever seen, cute little cunt stretching around him for the second time tonight.
But little girls who act like brats deserve to get fucked like brats, he tells you in a snarl, slender fingers collaring your neck and squeezing slowly, slowly, slowly, crushing the column of your throat.
Everything’s beginning to grow hazy, vision sliding in and out of focus as those calloused hands continue to tighten, and tighten, and tighten. He looks like some sort of sick angel as he looms above you, nothing more than a shadow of sharp edges and smooth curves, inky spikes and glowing sapphire, haloed by the weak neon light that spills in through grimy windows. Jutting bones prod the soft flesh of your inner thighs, carving out a space just for them as his hips snap viciously, relentlessly, obstinately.
And it’s all overwhelming, overstimulating on every front, uncontrollable tears streaming from your eyes as you choke roughly on your own sobs, each one being forced from your chest by your Daddy’s harsh thrusts, only to get caught on the palm pressed to your airway, ears ringing from the slap of skin against skin overlapping those harsh words spit at you in his falsely saccharine voice.  
Aw, no, baby, wispy words caressing your cheek as they float by, eyes starting to roll back in your head. Don’t pass out on me, dollface. I want you awake when I fill your cunt with cum.
The pressure around your throat lets up just a hint, and you wheeze in air, a rush of cold flooding your body. You can feel it, that contrasting, familiar heat scorching the pit of your stomach, beginning to curl in on itself more, and more, and more with each pump of his hips, until it explodes, your body arching off the mattress, unintentionally pressing into the hand adorning your neck, restricting your air entirely.
The chuckle that leaves his lips as you choke yourself is dark, would send spears of ice slicing through your veins if you weren’t otherwise focused on trying to fill your lungs with air. Nothing leaves your mouth other than a few choked whines, barely more than a huff of light breath.
But his hips don’t slow, and he’s glaring down at you with parted lips and lidded eyes, pupils gaping, so large you’re unable to detect even the slightest hint of blue outlining them—nothing but big black orbs, absorbing everything in their vision, sucking everything from you, every hitched sob and soft whine and gorgeous wince, each time he pounds against your cervix.
And it’s how your looking up at him—with those gleaming, adoring eyes and that blissful, fucked out grin—that has him cumming with a shuddered f-fuck, forcing his eyes to stay open as he pumps you full of thick cum, desperate to catalogue every little expression that crosses your face, the way your eyes flutter slightly, the way your neck arches, the tiniest little moan slipping through chapped lips as his cock pulses inside of you.
You must pass out for a second, Dabi’s calloused palm lightly tapping against your cheek as he murmurs to you in that sinful, silky voice, sugared sentiments twining around your exhausted body.
Wake up, princess. Daddy isn’t done playing with you yet.
Words tumble past your lips in a mumble, though you aren’t quite sure what you’re saying—everything feels hazy, like you’re gazing through a thin cloud of smoke, and despite the fact that you can barely move, your body feels light, almost floaty in a way, entirely numb to the immense pain it has endured thus far.
Two fingers, coated in thick, gleaming cream, are thrust into your gasping mouth, tongue met with the salty, bitter taste of his cum. You cough around the sudden intrusion, immediately obey when he orders you to clean, sluggish tongue sliding up and lapping at and slipping between them, sucking the digits free of cum.
Good girl, he leans away and your heart flutters weakly at the praise, saliva slicked fingers dipping into your hole again to gather more.
“C’mon,” he breathes as he brings his fingers to your mouth again, sticky viscous glops collected on his fingers. They catch in the dim light streaming through the window, a unique mixture of pale moonbeams and hazy neon, cum almost glittering, almost pretty. “You wanted me so bad, didn’t you?” your head’s moving—nodding, you think, you can’t really tell, breathing shallow as your eyes belatedly follow his glistening fingers—and he smirks down at you. “Then eat my fucking cum,”
Lips part instantly, mouth falling open as your tongue lolls out, eyes drifting up to his and pleading mutely, begging for the substance—the very essence of him—and nearly moaning when he drags his fingers across the saliva coated muscle, curling and sucking his digits back into the heat of your mouth.
And he’s fucking high off of it all, pupils blown to hell, outlined by the thinnest ring of cobalt, barely detectable, visible only when it catches in the moonlight.
A lumpy pile of denim sits abandoned and bunched up near the end of the bed—he must’ve kicked his pants off at some point, though you don’t remember when—and his cock’s hard again, head brushing your inner thigh. It’s hard for you to tear your gaze from it, fleeting thoughts of stamina and impressive grazing through your mind, turning to smoke the moment you try to latch onto them.
He notices, of course—you’ve been staring at it for nearly a minute now, glazed eyes unblinking, soft little pants passing through barely parted lips. But it’s the way you’re staring at it—in the purest, unadulterated form of desire—that makes it jump, twitching a little against your thigh. You think you hear your Daddy breathe out a curse, think his rough fingers brush some hair back from your drenched forehead, think he says something along the lines of how much he fucking loves you, but in your dreamlike state, you can’t be sure.
Because then rough hands are on you, manhandling you as whatever trance he had fallen into yet again snaps once more.
“We’re gonna put that pretty, empty head of yours to good use!” he’s saying almost enthusiastically as he hoists your boneless body up, propping you up against his chest and securing you with a strong arm wrapped around your waist. “Whaddya think about that, hmm, princess? Want Daddy to use your little skull as his own personal cumdump? Huh?” lithe fingers squeeze your cheeks so hard your lips pucker up, a high-pitched whine getting caught in your throat. “That’s all it’s good for anyway, isn’t it?”
You try to nod, but all your head wants to do is flop back against his shoulder.
“Oh baby,” he cooks mockingly, jutting his inky bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout. “I thought that was what you wanted?”
“T’is!” you mumble through his grip, drool beginning to collect in the corners of your scrunched mouth, dribbling down your chin. Gazing at him through the corner of your watery eyes, your resolve hardens, doing your best to hold your exhausted body up on your own, expression steeling as you force your woozy head to nod as best you can in his bruising grasp.
“Yeah?” he breathes, mouth curving into a dangerous smirk before his lips are at your ear, voice dropping an octave lower. “You’re fucking stubborn, y’know that? Stubborn little brat, just like your bullheaded brute of a brother,”
And then he’s pushing you down, shoving your head into the mattress and pulling your hips up, a hiss spit through your teeth as he purposefully presses into the fresh bruises.
Your poor little pussy aches, fucked open and raw by his cock, but you are stubborn—you can’t help it, it runs in your blood—exhilarated by the challenge and pushing your hips back weakly towards him.
Your Daddy chuckles behind you, but it’s one of those annoyed chuckles, one of those disbelieving chuckles, one of those chuckles that consists of an audacious smirk, quick short nodding that’s more to himself than anyone else, and a tongue running along his top teeth, sucking on the bones, before it fades from his face completely, replaced with scorn in an instant, eyes cold and jaw clenched as he delivers a harsh backhand to your ass.
Then his body’s blanketing yours, chest hot and heavy against your back, lips moving against the shell of your ear.
“Oh, you really want me to break you, don’t you?”
No, truly, you don’t, but you grit your teeth, eyes shut tightly against the sting of a fresh wave of tears, trying to stop your head from involuntarily shaking no.
He laughs again, this time mean and sharp and full of malice, as he straightens up, lining his cock up with your hole.
“Nah, nah,” he’s saying as he pushes in, and God, it still hurts, it still stretches you, reopening little sutures created in the stairwell. “I think you do—Actually, I know you do. And Daddy knows best, right?”
Yes, of course, Daddy knows best, Daddy always knows best.
And it burns, that relentless snap of his hips, driving his cock into you with deep growls and grunts, with such force that it’s jostling you up the mattress, little hands planting themselves in a pitiful attempt to press back against him, to keep yourself in one place. Every muscle in your arms screams at the effort, stiff and rigid from being held, kept, still and obedient against the wall for an extended period of time.
The dreaminess has faded again, leaving behind a dull haze, and it all just hurts. It seems to come in bouts, inexplicable waves of numbness and pain, alternating sporadically and sprinkled with spikes of intense pleasure, a potent mix of chemicals swirling in your brain, lust and desire and terror and anguish burning through your veins.
You’re sobbing into the mattress now, fingers curling tightly in his soft black sheets as your bleary vision begins to darken at the edges, mumbling out something almost in a chant—his name, you think, though you’re not sure, it all sounds muffled to your ringing ears—vibrations of your voice getting caught in your throat, hitching with your sobs and the rough piston of his hips.
It’s building again, licks of fire scalding hot against the walls of your stomach, the temperature rising with each drag of his cock against that spot, until you’re sure the flames are going to engulf you from the inside out.
Little squeaks, poor imitations of moans, escape your lips, interspersed with your pathetic wails. He’s speaking once more—you can feel it, his chest reverberating against yours, lips moving against your ear again. Something rumbles, rattles, deep and dark and dangerous at the very core of his body, and then he’s tangling a hand in your hair and tugging, hauling you up, a choked cry slipping from your lips.
It pulls you from unconsciousness’s grasp, just for a moment, clears the mist from your mind as he snarls against your ear, taking the cartilage between his teeth and biting down, hard.
“Thought I told you to answer me the next time I ask you a fucking question,” he breathes, and he almost sounds gleeful, contradicting his voice, so rough, so hoarse, so hot.
You did, Daddy, you did, you’re trying to say, trying to nod in the vice grip he has on your strands, the words jumbled and muddled and near incomprehensible, wet and messy and coated in spit.
“But I guess my—Christ—my cock makes you too stupid to do that, huh?” he’s panting now, in time with his thrusts, huffs of breath sweltering against your already sticky skin. “What would your goody-two-shoes brother say if he could see you, hmm? If he could see how fucking dumb his little slut of a baby sister goes from my cum,”
It’s too much, too much, Daddy, too much, the brutal pounding of his cockhead against your swollen cervix and the continuous stream of strained, husky, filthy words he’s spewing in your ear and the sting in your scalp and that spot, that spot, that spot—
It hits you so hard it’s painful, knocks what little breath you had right out of you as your entire body convulses on his cock, little cunt clenching and gushing as you weep Da-Daddy! over and over and over, the only word your soupy brain is capable of conceiving, body going pliant in his arms as your head lolls back against his shoulder, struggling to keep your eyes open while he continues to drive his cock into you, hard and fast and messy.
He cums with the prettiest broken whine you’ve ever heard—or at least, you think he does, entire body gone numb once again, think you feel his hips juddering and his cock pulsing, think you feel that familiar, thick substance filling you to the brim. Everything is still for a moment, his chest heaving against your arched back, and then he laughs malevolently, though it sounds far away, even though you can feel the sound vibrating against you.
“That ought’a teach you to say no to me again,” he spits harshly in your ear, giving one more hard yank on your hair before letting go completely, your abused body collapsing in a heap on his mattress.
It feels like you’re more Dabi than yourself now, with his name written all over your body, signed by his mouth, his teeth, his fingers, and his cum leaking out of you, drying hard and sticky on your thighs, his scent being all you can smell, all you can taste, heady and fiery. And as you crawl into the sweet embrace of unconsciousness—finally, finally—you think about just how much can change, and how fast it does, in a mere 92 days.
   ✰          ✰          ✰            
Three months earlier
The air is hazy with thick smoke, heavy enough to dilute the already dim yellow light shining from the bare lightbulbs overhead. The stench of cheap beer, weed and sweat stings your nose, and it wrinkles reflexively.
You aren’t supposed to be here.
Throbbing music radiates through the house, causing the structure to tremble in time with the beat, the dirty drywall you’re currently pressed up against quivering in response. It’s so loud it hurts, vibrating through the warped linoleum floors and through your body. It makes you shiver in disgust, as if it’s some sort of parasite worming it’s way through your veins in timed intervals.
Your brother would kill you if he knew.
You’ve been backed into a corner—literally, surrounded by three college boys you’ve never seen before as they drunkenly leer at you. They’re a year or two older than you, glassy half-lidded eyes scanning your body in a way that makes you feel filthy, in a way that makes you want to scrub your skin raw to rid it of their slimy gazes.
They’re mumbling out something, speaking amongst themselves in low voices, peppered with raspy snickers that make your skin crawl. Pressing further into the corner, you quickly wrack your mind for something—anything—that will get them to part just a little, that’ll crack the wall of bodies you’re now surrounded by just enough for you to barrel through. Adrenaline begins to surge through your veins as you gear up, drawing in a deep breath, and—
“Whadda we have here?”
The men part immediately at the sound of that low voice, smooth as melted chocolate, revealing a figure with spiky onyx hair, an involuntary gasp escaping your lips the moment your eyes collide with sapphire.
“Ah, I thought it was you,” he smirks, peering down at you with a gaze so intense it feels like your body’s been set aflame. “What’s a good little girl like you doing in a place like this, hmm?”
Dabi.
This wasn’t the first time you had seen him, remembering the man with the pretty cobalt eyes and inky hair standing under a singular flickering lamp post outside of the tiny house you and your brother share, or lingering on the threshold of the front door, eyes lazily darting around the space as he waits.
He never comes inside. Your brother doesn’t allow it.
You’ve barely spoken any words to him, always responding to his polite greetings with shy nods or little waves.
But this is the first time you’re meeting him properly.
Feet bolted to the floor, you try to respond, only able to emit a pathetic little squeak.
He huffs out a condescending chuckle, gazing down the bridge of his nose at you, head tilted up just a touch, lidded crystal eyes glittering in the dim light. That trademark smirk spreads into something darker, something almost ominous in nature, something that whispers in your ear that it knows something you don’t, sending sharp spikes of ice shooting up your spine.
“Does your brother know you’re here?”
You shake your head quickly, eyes widening in panic as anxiety begins to rise in your throat. He isn’t about to rat you out, is he?
“Thought so. Dunno why I asked,” he heaves a heavy sigh, chest rising with the force of it, as if he’s extremely exasperated, as if you’re some sort of child lost at a supermarket and he’s bringing you back to your parents. “Alright, let’s go,”
A hand extends, hanging limp in the smoky air for a moment, waiting, before Dabi sighs again with a roll of his eyes, latching onto your wrist and all but dragging you out of the corner, maneuvering through the mass of sweaty bodies crowding the dingy living room.
“We’re leaving?” you ask dumbly as Dabi approaches the back door, hand still wrapped in a firm grasp around your arm.
“Yep. My work here is done, and you,” he tuts his tongue with a slow shake of his head, hidden smile on his face. “Your work here is done, too,”
“W-Where are we going?” you ask as the two of you stumble outside, shivering a little as the cool, fresh air hits your heated skin.
“No idea. Away from this place,” he looks back at your briefly, giving your wrist a soft squeeze before dropping it. “You tryna put your brother in an early grave or somethin’?”
A frown tugs at the corners of your lips as you shake your head again. “No, I just—”
“You shouldn’t have been there,” his words echo your thoughts from before. “You were in some real danger for a second, y’know that?”
“I-I know. Thank you for, uh, s-saving me, Sir,”
“Sir?” his eyes are bright with mirth, shining despite the weak light provided by the waxing moon. The smirk returns, and you feel it again—like he’s plotting something, like he’s got some big secret he’s hiding, a plan, something up his sleeve. “Sir is nice, but I think there’s another name you’d rather call me,”
Eyebrows knit in confusion, your eyes drift to the ground, mulling over his words. Something else you’d rather call him? Like what? You’ve only seen the guy a few—
“Still have no idea why you haven’t fucked him yet,” one of your friends muses as Dabi’s exiting his car, eyes watching him lazily from where you’re both seated on the front lawn.
“Keigo would murder me, literally,” you giggle a little, glancing over at the man with inky hair before looking away again, down at your lap as little fingers thread through the grass beneath you and shaking your head.
“Shame,” she sighs, twirling her sticky pink lollipop idly, the candy catching in the sun. “He’s Daddy as hell,”
A sharp gasp leaves your parted lips, eyes snapping back to her face and holding them for a moment before the two of you burst into a fit of giggles, your fingers tapping her bare knee in a silent warning that he’s approaching.
Heavy black boots collide with the front stone path, buckles jingling daintily, his head perking up in a catlike manner, trademark smirk forming on his lips as you both urgently try to calm your laughter.
“Ladies,” he nods with a wink as he passes, little giggles cutting off instantaneously, the two of you mumbling shy greetings in response.
That was the only time you had ever spoken to him, until now.
“Oh my God,” you whimper, eyes squeezing shut in embarrassment. He did hear.
He chuckles slightly, dropping the subject with a shake of his head.
“So. Where to?” he asks expectantly, feet slowing to a stop on the cracked sidewalk as he taps out a cigarette. He whips a silver Zippo open, sharp twinge of metal swiping against metal cutting though the silent nighttime air. “Home?”
A shrill bubble of incredulous laughter escapes your throat. Dabi glances over at you, amused, raising an eyebrow in question as he cups the flame and brings it to his lips.
“Do you want to put my brother in an early grave?” you snort.
“I could just walk you to the street, you know,” he rolls his eyes, but there’s a smile on his face. “Precious niisan wouldn’t even need to see me,”
You shake your head, idly kicking a rock with the toe of your shoe as you begin walking again. The campus is beginning to bleed into the city now, engulfing the two of you in familiar florescent light. “No, I can’t go home,”
“Why?”
“I…” you trail off, heat flooding your cheeks. “I, um, told him I’d be staying at a friend’s place tonight,”
Dabi gasps mockingly. “Baby, you lied to your niisan?”
Knocking your shoulder against his arm, you scoff, trying to hide the stupid smile the nickname conjures. “Oh, shut up,”
“Getting bold now, I see,” he hums to himself. “Could’a swore just a few minutes ago you were scared of me,”
“N-Not scared, just—uh, just surprised, that’s all,”
“Uh-huh, sure. Tell me again why you can’t just go to this friend’s house?”
“Well, she’s—she’s, like, y’know—” you shrug as a form of explanation, deflating a little at his unimpressed stare as he blows smoke out his nose. “She’s going home with some guy,” you mumble. “A-And I was supposed to too, but…”
Dabi tsks, shaking his head in false sympathy. “Sweetheart, you’re a teenage movie cliché,”
“Shut up,”
“You tell me to shut up one more time and I’m gonna have to do something about it,” he singsongs, a thinly veiled threat coated in sugar. Swallowing thickly, you glance up at him, blinking twice. His eyes tell you that he’s not fucking around, despite the relaxed features of his face, smile easygoing and gaze lidded.
“S-Sorry,” you murmur, looking away.
“Don’t you know? Good little girls don’t speak like that to Daddy,”
He spits the word out, almost patronizing in his tone, but that fails to stop the way your stomach flutters when it falls from his lips, fails to prevent the choked little gasp that escapes yours. He laughs loudly, your cheeks burning with shame.
Sapphire eyes glint in the pale moonlight, as if he’s just discovered the most valuable treasure, as if he’s just been given the key to the universe—a predator who’s just ensnared it’s prey, and the smirk that slowly etches itself across his face is nothing short of sinister.
“Do you wanna come home with Daddy, princess?”
He’s caging you between his body and the murky convenience store window as he asks, both palms pressed flat against the grimy glass.
“Hmm?”
No. You shouldn’t. You know you shouldn’t, can almost hear your brother’s voice in the back of your mind telling you not to, but you’re too enticed in sapphire to care, drawn into pretty, almost glittering blue fire, letting the flames lick your skin as you immerse yourself in it, deeper and deeper and deeper, allowing it to wrap itself around you, to consume you, to knock the very breath out of you as you gaze into it.
“Okay,”
   ✰          ✰          ✰            
He only has one bed and no couch, he informs you as he leads you up four flights of stairs, explaining that the elevator’s been broken for a few months now, panting out the words just a little.
A soft giggle slips from your lips, amplified by the empty stairwell and echoing off the concrete walls, and Dabi looks back at you, amused.
“Something funny, princess?”
And although there’s a friendly grin on his face and mirth in his eyes, something in his voice makes you tremble, shoots scorching sparks up your spine and sends them rushing through your veins, and your laughter immediately cuts off.
“No,” you say simply, shaking your head and hoping that he didn’t catch the full body shiver that coursed through your figure just a second ago, all thanks to his voice. “Just laughing at the absurdity of it, s’all,”
“Ah,” he says sagely, nodding once. “Well, here we are,”
A tattooed hand gestures vaguely to a white door with a large, black 4 painted on it, the paint beginning to chip away, worn down and faded in some spots.
Dabi’s apartment is small, but you like it. He’s surprised, he tells you, expected someone like you—someone brought up with luxury, someone who’s never had to ask for or want anything in their life, because they always already had it—would hate it.
“Or maybe, that’s exactly why you like it,”
It’s a little snarky, the way those words flow out of his mouth, biting your cheek as they pass, and you wince a little.
“I think it’s homey,” you say quietly, tiny voice raw and honest, deciding to omit the fact that you’ve never really had a space that felt homey yourself. “It’s very you. I really do like it.”
His eyes soften at your gentle confession, features relaxing a little as calloused fingers tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
“Then, I’m glad,”
For a moment, you’re positive he’s going to kiss you, staring down at you so intently with that look in his eyes as they slowly sweep across your face. But he turns on his heel a moment later, stalking into the tiny bachelor and beckoning for you to follow with a wave of his hand, flicking on a lamp as he passes.
“You hungry?” he’s asking as he walks. “I know this kickass noodle place that delivers 24/7,” he collapses on his bed, outfitted in black sheets, looking up at you expectantly when you stop hesitantly a few feet away. “You should probably eat something,” he continues, pushing himself up on his elbows, legs dangling off the end of the mattress. “Especially if there’s still alcohol in your—”
“Oh no, I don’t drink,” you cut him off without thinking, the words etched into your permanent vocabulary, sitting down next to him, just a hint too close.
“No, no, of course you don’t,” he says with a laugh and a shake of his head, sitting up fully. “Let me guess; niisan doesn’t allow it,”
A frown forms on your lips, brows knitting together. “Well I—”
“Ah! Stop,” he cuts you off with a disinterested wave and a roll of his eyes. “I’ve heard enough,”
Normally, you’d scoff at someone speaking to you so rudely. But with Dabi, with Dabi, it’s different. A little giggle escapes your lips without your permission, the bubbly noise surprising you, and Dabi chuckles in response, a genuine grin spreading across his face, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.
“So. Food?”
The takeout arrives at 1:56am, Dabi bringing the bag full of noodles and other appetizers—too much food for only two people, if you’re being honest—back to his bed, placing it in front of you and then crawling onto the mattress, sitting cross-legged.
The action surprises you—he doesn’t have a table, but you had been expecting him to bring the food to the small breakfast bar, complete with two mismatched stools, not his bed.
Old Hammer Horror films flicker on the TV as the two of you pick through the food together, Styrofoam containers littering the bedspread. And it’s…fun—it’s the most fun you’ve had in a long time, a strange, unfamiliar giddiness fizzing in your tummy every time you make him laugh, every time his eye catches yours, every time he shoves your knee and calls you dollface, despite the deep, honey-coated voice echoing in your head telling you that you shouldn’t be doing this and he’s dangerous.
   ✰          ✰          ✰            
“Bedtime,” Dabi says simply as he returns from the little kitchenette after storing the leftover takeout in the fridge, using a hand to tug at the back of his shirt and pulling it over his head.
“Wha—”
The material hits you square in the face and an involuntary, entirely unsolicited giggle bubbles past your lips, pulling the garment from your head.
“Pajamas,” he nods at the fabric now bunched in your hands, but you can’t seem to find your voice to respond.
Teeth bite into your tongue hard enough to make you wince in an effort to keep a gasp within your chest when he comes into view. He’s lean—toner than you expected, muscles gliding smoothly under his skin as he moves—and you’re unsurprised to find his chest and back decorated with vibrant, intricate tattoos.
Of course, you knew Dabi had tattoos—they’re on his face, his neck, his collarbone, disappearing under the neckline of his shirt and resurfacing under his short sleeves, curling around his arms, brilliant flowing ink telling stories across his skin. They’re beautiful—they’re mesmerizing, inquisitive eyes slowly roaming the expanse of his chest.
But you had never noticed the soft, slightly puckered skin they hid. Scars, your mind provides dimly.
“Do you want to touch them?”
The rumble of his deep voice snaps you out of your revere, heat flooding your cheeks when you realize you were staring. There’s a playful lilt to his voice, and you can’t quite tell if his offer is serious or not, your eyes floating up to his.
“Here,” he chuckles a little as he sits down, offering you his forearm, flipping it over and resting it on the bed.
He lets you trace every single one. He won’t tell you where or how he got the scars, and you don’t push, even as curiosity erodes your chest. It’s impolite to pry, Keigo’s voice echoes through your mind, and you nod once to yourself.
You don’t have sex that night. He doesn’t force you. You nearly tell him that you’re surprised, what, a man of his stature, of his reputation, has a pretty girl in his bed and he doesn’t fuck her?, petty retaliation for what he had said to you when you entered the apartment hours ago, but you chicken out at the last minute. You’d soon come to find that some things are better left unsaid.
   ✰          ✰          ✰            
Spring has just arrived, bringing with it cool, gentle breezes and swaying blades of grass decorated with glistening dewdrops that sparkle when the sun catches them in just the right way. The smell of freshly battered cinnamon sugar donuts and cheap coffee wafts in through the open window, drifting over your bodies and embracing you.
It rouses you, and your eyes flutter open to be met with Dabi’s face. And, God, he’s so damn pretty, with thick dark eyelashes fanned out delicately across inked skin and tousled onyx hair, breathing deep and calm, sharp jaw on display. Reaching out, you daintily trace over his relaxed features—circling defined cheekbones, sliding down the slope of his nose, trailing along his jaw—allowing yourself a moment to admire him before thick guilt begins to strangle you.
You should go. Keigo still thinks that you’re at a friend’s house, and doesn’t expect you to be home until late afternoon, but that belated bitter guilt finally brands the back of your tongue, face souring a little at the idea of deceiving your big brother. And after all he’s done for you, niisan tsks in your head, voice sweet and syrupy, and you can almost see the disappointment in his eyes as he shakes his head. We’re all each other has, you know. And you do, really, you do know, head nodding routinely, instinctual at this point, as you begin to push yourself up.
“Stay,” Dabi says softly, eyes still closed as a hand catches your wrist. You stop immediately, allowing him to pull you back down to the mattress as lids lift to reveal the most brilliant sapphires. Fingers trace down the curve of your neck and you hum, arching into his touch.
“Keigo—”
“Doesn’t have to know,” he cuts you off, his voice still quiet, rough around the edges and heavy with sleep. “C’mon. We’ll go get pie for breakfast, and I’ll have you home to niisan by dinner, promise,”
Giggling a little, you roll into him, allowing him to wrap his arms around you and pull you atop his chest as he flops onto his back.
“Pie,” you laugh, resting your chin on his toned muscles and gazing up at him. “For breakfast?”
“Why not?” He asks, and that smile is back again, the boyish one that looks like he’s hiding something, a little amusing secret just for him, the one that induces a whole flock of butterflies in your chest. “It’s Saturday,” he shrugs as best he can, then squeezes you to his chest. “You don’t got anything to do, I don’t got anything to do...”
Crystal eyes glitter in the morning sun as they gaze at you, golden rays creeping through the small gaps in his thick purple curtains, swaying gently in the wind.
Molars sink into the inside flesh of your cheek as you think, and Dabi tuts his tongue softly, a hand coming to gently pull the skin from between your teeth.
“Okay,”
His lips curl into a smirk, something sharp flashing in his cobalt eyes. “Okay,”
That’s how it begins—with deceptively bright, youthful smiles and cherry pie for breakfast— and five days later, in the backseat of his Cadillac Eldorado while James Cagney flickers on a worn out, off-white screen and two of his fingers are three knuckles deep in you, he asks you to be his, digits curling in your pretty little pussy as he breathes the words against the shell of your ear.
You’re whimpering out yes as you cum, nodding almost frantically against his shoulder as your hips roll towards his palm.
That’s it, that’s his good girl.
   ✰          ✰          ✰            
But it progresses faster than you ever thought it would—faster than you ever thought possible—like a shot of morphine straight to your bloodstream, pupils gaping as DabiDabiDabi surges through your veins, becoming all you can think about—all you want to think about, all you want to do, eat, feel, breathe.
Midnight double-features of old Hollywood films at the local rundown drive-in become one of the many staples of your relationship, finding comfort in the sharp smell of buttersalt popcorn stinging your nose, in the way the film’s sound cracks and pops as it travels through the car radio, staticky like an old record, in the way Dabi forces a cherry Jolly Rancher from his mouth into yours, the hard candy clacking against your teeth.
This is how you spend most of your weeknights for the next month or so—passing candy through kisses in the backseat of the Eldorado, tongues shoved down each other’s throats, stained red and purple and blue from the cheap artificial dye, hands wandering up dresses and little fingers tugging at beltloops and buckles.
On Saturday mornings—sometimes Sundays, too, if you’ve been a really good girl—you find yourself in a familiar red booth at The League—a little diner tucked away on one of the city side streets not too far from Dabi’s apartment—cheap speckled plastic glittering in the sunlight and sticking to your thighs as your favourite waitress, a young woman by the name of Himiko who insists that you call her Mimi, takes your order. She seems to know your Daddy—your Dabi—somehow, but you don’t press, because it’s impolite to pry, you know and niisan raised you better than this.
He always lets you pick what you want for breakfast, but Daddy always orders it for you, always reminds you the mornings you decide on pancakes that if you get those, you aren’t allowed any sundaes or a slice of pie, because too much sugar is bad for his babygirl, and he knows how much syrup you drown those things in, dollface.
But there’s one staple of your relationship that you love more than all the others.
Joyrides.
That’s what he calls them, those drives through the bad parts of the city, the parts with cracked concrete sidewalks and shattered glass and needles littered in the dying grass.
Dabi takes you along frequently, tells you that you have an important job to do, that you play a crucial role in this whole operation, because the police—including your father—have been cracking down especially hard on dealing in this area. But nobody bothers to question a seemingly innocent young woman delivering inconspicuous brown paper bags—bags full of pretty little pills and tiny baggies of white powder—to shop owners and crumbling apartment complexes, eerily reminiscent of a Girl Scout selling cream filled cookies and thin-mints.
Keigo would kill you, if he knew.
It’s an instantaneous rush, though, being allowed to participate in Dabi’s business ventures, being allowed to help. It’s a privilege, you think, makes you feel like he trusts you, and you absolutely live for the praise, for that gorgeous smile he gives you after you deliver the sweets to the client, for the passionate kisses he rewards you with for being such a good little helper.
Joyrides are the best. Because it’s just you and him, the Eldorado’s radio struggling to play whatever station it’s picking up on—usually some sort of sixties rock—as you cruise the streets in his absurdly large car, the sky smeared with strokes of faded pinks and oranges, peppered with wispy clouds that look like loose strands of white cotton candy.
And sometimes, after his work is all finished, he’ll drive you to one of those cliffs you’ve come to know so well and let you ride him in the drivers seat—precious little whines and pathetic broken whimpers spilling from your lips as you rest your head against his shoulder, gyrating your hips in fast, shallow little circles, using his cock like it’s a toy, just like he told you to—before taking you back home to fuck you properly, to fuck you right.
   ✰          ✰          ✰            
It’s quaint, the little house you and your niisan live in, with its perfectly trimmed hedges and well-manicured grass, a stone walkway leading up to the front door, which is painted white. White windowsills, white brick, white, white, white, the whole thing is white—bright, pure, untarnished.
It’s just enough space for the two of you, your adoptive father, an absurdly large man by the name of Toshinori Yagi, had stated proudly, the first day he showed it to you.
And it’s only a short walk from the university, his wife chimed in with a smile too wide for her face, nodding excessively.
It’s convenient, they had said, the day you received your acceptance letter and scholarship offer from the university your brother attended. It’ll be good for you to stay with your older brother for a little, before going off into the world on your own, they had promised.
You hadn’t really wanted to go to this university—would’ve much preferred to go away to school in another country—but you didn’t. Keigo knew it, too, knew your desire to leave, to see more of the world, to experience it on your own without that hulking shadow with the wild hair. But he coaxed you into it, convinced you to stay, just like he always does, begging you softly not to leave your poor niisan all alone as gentle fingers pushed locks of hair from your face, trailing down your cheek and coming to cup your jaw, reminding you that you’re all each other has.
And you had nodded, nuzzled your face against his palm, sought comfort and relief in the presence of your big brother, just as you always do. He was right; you had your entire life to travel the world, what’s the rush? Why leave now? Stay with him, just for a little longer.
But your niisan, your niisan has a secret.
It wasn’t like you didn’t know. Keigo has always had a penchant for living fast, after all, seems to somehow incorporate conceptual and literal speed into all aspects of his life—his marks in school, his record-breaking track races, and now, his personal life, too.
It started in high school. He was in twelfth grade. You still don’t know who gave him his first taste, still don’t know why he decided to shoot up that night, but he did.
And it made him feel invincible. It made him feel like he could fly.
He hid it well, didn’t look like a heroin addict—at least, not what the words ‘heroin addict’ usually conjure up. His topaz eyes were bright as ever, even if his pupils were just a pinprick; nails cut so short it looked painful, to keep from scratching and scabbing his body; was always sure to keep his track marks well hidden, methodical in choosing his injection sites, and kept up with regular hygiene, even if his wild, windswept hair did get a little messier.
Yes, he hid it well.
But he couldn’t hide it from you for long, didn’t hide it from you well enough, becoming increasingly careless the deeper he spiralled into the addiction.
And it takes a while for you to truly acknowledge it. You didn’t want to—not at first, anyway—didn’t want to believe that your all-star, top-of-his-class, golden-child of a big brother was a junkie.
So you ignored it. You ignored the way he began recklessly disposing of the needles in the small trash can under his desk instead of hiding them in the kitchen trash whenever your mother asked him to take it out, ignored the burnt spoon you found in the sink and the bloody Q-tips you found littering the counter of the bathroom the two of you shared, ignored the way those tiny orange syringe caps had begun appearing in odd places, seeming to pop up more and more frequently.
Yes, you ignored it, until he stole one of the shoelaces off of your sneakers. And you still can’t explain it, exactly, can’t explain why that was the final straw, why that had you gripping a laceless shoe in a trembling hand as you stormed into the washroom uninvited and unannounced, catching him with the string between his teeth, just as the last of that disgusting orangish-brown liquid sunk into his veins.
The words disintegrate on your tongue, escaping in a pitiful little squeak, all of the fury you felt towards him for his behaviour melting the instant your eyes catch the end of the injection, wide and unblinking as they stare at the needle stuck in his forearm.
For a moment, neither of you are able to speak, Keigo’s mouth opening and closing a few times as his eyes flood with tears, the prettiest topaz shining in the warm washroom light as they frenetically search your face.
“Sit,” you tell him, finally breaking the silence, your voice not your own. His eyebrows knit together, and he shakes his head a little in misunderstanding, but you persist. “Sit,”
Shoulders deflating, he holds your gaze for a moment longer before nodding once and obeying, sitting on the closed toilet.
“We have to—” you stop as your chin begins to wobble, swallowing thickly against the sob crawling up your throat, quivering hands rooting haphazardly through a first-aid kit. “W-We have to clean those, so they don’t get infected,”
Glassy golden eyes watch you intently, his chest hiccupping just a little as he wordlessly holds his arms out to you, armed with a cotton ball soaked in rubbing alcohol, the scent stinging your nose.
There aren’t many—only a few little pinpricks on each arm, some decorated with dark blooms of periwinkle and violet, but they still cause your tongue to crumble to bitter, suffocating ash in your mouth.
Tiny fingers encircle his wrist, your touch always so soft, so gentle, as if you’re afraid to break him, and he chokes on a noise that sounds suspiciously similar to a sob.
“You don’t—You shouldn’t have to—” and he can’t even force the words out, breathing out forcefully through his nose as his tears finally overflow, glistening drops streaming down his cheeks, bleary eyes unblinking, focused on your little fingers as they continue their tender ministrations with so much care, with so much love it’s nearly stifling, and he can’t breathe, because he doesn’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve it—
“I want to,” a knuckle catches one of his fresh tears, swiping it across his cheekbone and leaving a glimmering trail in its wake. “Alright? I want to,”
And this—this becomes a habit.
   ✰          ✰          ✰            
You don’t tell Keigo about your relationship. Not at first, at least, conjuring up flimsy excuses that become more ridiculous as the days pass, as your disappearances steadily increase. Dabi doesn’t want to, makes up some bullshit excuse about how he isn’t ready yet. But you buy it anyway, and you wait.
Until the morning of one of your niisan’s big races, the ones where multiple trainers and coaches come from all over the country to assess his performance, when Dabi shows up entirely unannounced and uninvited, makes sure he’s in Keigo’s line of sight as he bounces around at the starting line, and kisses the life out of you, right in front of him.  
That’s the only time he attends one of Keigo’s races.
The rest you continue attending by yourself. Dabi doesn’t like it, doesn’t like to have you out of his sight at all lately, but he knows it’s moot to argue with you. You’re going, you told him firmly, the night before Keigo’s next race, whether he likes it or not.
But, boy, was your niisan fuming by the time the two of you arrived home that day.
He hadn’t cared that he had, essentially, lost the race, hadn’t cared that he didn’t even manage to place in the top three for the first time in literal years, hadn’t cared that he just blew several chances with potential coaches and sponsors.
None of it mattered.
With a rough hand wrapped around your bicep, he all but yanks you out of the car, doesn’t care that you’re stumbling over your own feet as he drags you towards the front door, doesn’t care that he shoves you inside the house so hard you do trip, crying out as your hands and knees collide with the cold tiled floor.
And he’s yelling, yelling at the top of his lungs, the moment that white door slams shut, shut so hard the walls tremble.
“Fucking Touya Todoroki!? Are you fucking kidding me?”
You can barely see him through your tears as you quickly flip yourself over, beginning to inch away on your hands and feet as you stare up at him, breath hitching in your chest.
“Wh-Who?”
“Dabi, for Christ sake!”
“T-T—” Touya?
“Oh Jesus, don’t tell me—He didn’t tell you his fucking name?”
No, you shake your head quickly, chest stuttering as the name echoes through your mind, your big brother nothing but a blur of crimson and gold advancing towards you, mumbling to himself about how no, of course he didn’t, why would he? Of course not, as he drags nimble fingers through his messy hair.
“To-Todo—”
“Todoroki,” he spits, so harsh it makes you flinch.
“Your coa—”
“Yeah, I know his father,” Keigo rolls his eyes as he crouches down, catches your trembling chin between his thumb and forefinger, and you cease all action immediately, freezing in his grip. “You know his brother,”
Your brow furrows as you belatedly search your memory for any instance of the name, gunmetal grey and snow white flashing through your mind, but everything’s too foggy, too hazy with the fear of disappointing your niisan more, eyes squeezing shut as you hiccup at the mere thought.
But then he’s sighing, always knows when he’s gone a little too far—you are very delicate, after all, so small and naïve and in desperate need of someone to take care of you, aren’t you?—collapsing back on his heels and pulling you into his lap as soft hands smooth down your hair, murmuring it’s alright, it’s alright and niisan’s got you, niisan’s got you.
“What’re you doin’ with a man like that, my little songbird?” his voice is gentle as he rocks your bodies back and forth, after your sobs have calmed a bit.
What are you? you want to ask, front teeth sinking into your tongue hard enough to make you wince, keeping those three tiny words inside of your mouth.
“I like him,” you mumble instead, nuzzling your face into his chest and hiding from those bright, inquisitive topaz eyes.
“You—You like him,” he snorts to himself in disbelief, shaking his head a little.
“I do,” you respond, a little firmer as you pull back to stare at your big brother���s face, eyebrows knit together in determination, sparks of fury igniting deep in your chest at the thought of Keigo thinking he knows better, when he’s just as bad.
“He isn’t good for you—”
“He isn’t good for you,” you shoot back, tone clipped as you level your gaze, squirming a little in his arms. His grasp tightens, like he’s terrified you’re going to leave, honey eyes holding yours for a beat before he lets out a breath, looking away, defeated.
“That doesn’t mean you should be allowed to see him,” he mutters, glancing at your tear-stained face for a moment before his eyes flit away again. “But…” his chest rises with a deep inhale, pressing against you. “I guess…I guess it isn’t very fair of me to, uh, judge you, is it?”
“No,” you pout a little. “It isn’t,”
He huffs out a soft chuckle, gazing at you from the side of his eye, a tiny smirk spreading across his face. “Stop being so cute,” he grumbles, squeezing you against him just a bit too hard, giggles spilling from your lips as your fingers curl in the cotton of his hoodie. “I’m trying to be mad at you, y’know,”
“Kei-nii,” you whine with a roll of your eyes, shoving his shoulder weakly, though there’s a smile on your lips.
“Alright, alright, alright,” he’s saying as lithe fingers brush some hair back from your face, palm resting against your cheek, thumb stroking your jaw rhythmically. “Just—Promise me, if he ever hurts you…You’ll tell me immediately, yeah?”
Blinking a few times, your eyes search his face, sobering up as gold bores into you. There’s something in his stare, something you’ve never seen before, something that you can’t decipher, and it sends chills pebbling across your skin. Swallowing thickly, you nod, little jerky movements as your eyes hold his. “Y-Yeah, promise, niisan,”
“Good,” he whispers, chin resting atop the crown of your head as he cradles you to his chest. “We’re all we have. Never forget it.”
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You only question Dabi about his name once, lounging around on his bed in the early hours of the morning, tangled in his sheets, wearing his t-shirt, with his large hand resting on your bare thigh. His head’s tipped back against the headboard as he exhales smoke in pretty little curls that disintegrate into hazy nothingness only a moment later.
“T-Touya?” Your hearts thudding against your ribcage as you almost whisper the name, barely audible at all, but his head snaps forward, sapphire eyes finding yours immediately.
And for a moment you’re terrified you’ve made a grave mistake, that you’ve crossed some invisible line you hadn’t had a clue about, his glare scathing your skin; but then his features relax, and a little smirk spreads across his lips.
“Ah, so he finally told you,” his voice is quiet, and you can’t read his tone, eyes squinting a little as you lean towards him. “I don’t go by that name anymore,” he speaks up, voice ringing out clear and strong. “Don’t call me that again,”
The or else is implied, and you nod meekly, promising him softly that you’ll never utter it again.
   ✰          ✰          ✰            
It’s been gnawing at you all week, sitting heavy like a block of lead in your stomach, the cuticles on your left thumb bitten raw in agitation. You need to tell him. You’re going to tell him, it’s just…
It just never seemed like the right time to tell him—then again, is there ever a right time to tell your older brother that you’re spending the entire weekend at his drug dealer’s place?
But now it’s Friday, and Dabi will be here in a few minutes, and you still have yet to let Keigo know.
Because Keigo is currently otherwise occupied. With a girl.
You hadn’t been expecting to hear the tinny laughter of a woman when you entered the house, arriving home after your last class of the day, hadn’t been expecting to walk into the living room to find said girl splayed across your niisan’s lap, staring up at him dreamily as endless giggles spilled from her painted lips, hadn’t been expecting him to be so completely enamoured with her that he doesn’t even greet you.
It burns up all of the anxiety that had been building inside you in an instant, turns it into boiling rage that bubbles and pops, noxious as it rises up your throat.
And so, you decide that you won’t say anything at all. If he’s too busy to even acknowledge you like he normally does every single day, then surely he doesn’t care if you leave, right?
“I’m going out,” you toss airily over your shoulder as your halfway out the front door, a small grin spreading across you lips as you spot Dabi leaning lazily against his car. He gives you a nod of acknowledgement, smug grin of his own forming on his lips.
Keigo shoots up immediately, nearly knocking the girl to the floor, moving faster than he ever has in his life as he catches your wrist and tugs, hard. A loud yelp sounds from the back of your throat and you stumble backwards, right into your big brother’s chest.
“Where? Huh? Where?” he growls out the word through clenched teeth, squeezing again. “With who? That—That fucking scumbag?”
At the sound of your yelp, Dabi straightens up instantly, usual lidded eyes now wide open and alert, zeroing in on where Keigo has ensnared you.
“Not like it matters to you, not when you have a whore to entertain,” you spit, and though your gaze is blazing, your eyes are filling with tears, gleaming in the late afternoon sun. “Right?” you push, after a few moments of silence.
His grip loosens, although he doesn’t let go completely, fingers still clasped around you.
“Princess, I…”
“No,” you snap, viciously pulling yourself free of him. “Don’t princess me. Not after ignoring me like that,”
“You’re overreacting—”
“Then so are you,” you cut him off sharply, already beginning to back away and blinking hard to clear your eyes of stubborn tears. “I’m spending the weekend at Dabi’s. I’ll see you on Sunday,”
Dabi catches you the moment you’re within reach, drawing you close to his chest for a second before pulling back. Calloused hands gently raise your wrist, sapphire eyes assessing the damage. His thumb caresses the rapidly bruising area rhythmically, back and forth, back and forth, and he frowns deeply, his gaze finally meeting yours.
“Does he do this often? Hurt you like this?”
And it’s startling, shocking, to see the overflowing concern in his crystal eyes, studying your face intently as you try to find your voice. You don’t think he’s ever sounded that serious before.
“I—No, of course not,” you shake your head, tongue tripping over the words. “We—Y’know, siblings fight, and stuff, it’s—he doesn’t know his own strength, sometimes, uh, forgets it, a-and I bruise easily,” you shrug, wincing a little at the serious expression still etched deep into Dabi’s face.
“If he ever puts his hands on you again, I’ll fucking kill him,” Dabi says slowly, softly, as if he’s reciting the morning news to you, dark eyes drifting up to refocus on the figure still standing in the doorway. “Do you understand me?” he asks, though his stare does not leave Keigo’s, voice still calm, almost serene. “I’ll fucking kill him,”
He won’t, you reassure him, countless times over the next few weeks. Niisan’s never intentionally hurt me, Daddy, he won’t, I promise.
And they’re all true, those words you repeat to him, over and over and over again, while you comb fingers through his inky hair or press chaste kisses against his scarred skin. They’re all true.
Until they aren’t.
You should’ve known, really, not to talk about it. He doesn’t—not when you’re cleaning his track marks or wiping sweat from his forehead, not when he lays his head in your lap as he’s coming down, eyes fluttering as your fingers thread through his hair, not even when you’re feeding him teaspoons of water to keep him hydrated as his body forces him to throw up nothing, again, lips dry and cracked, skin clammy and cold—and you shouldn’t, either.
“Have you ever thought about switching to pills?” You ask one night, casually, as if this is mundane, normal, to discuss while washing dishes. “I heard oxy is like, heroin in a pill,”
His jaw clenches, you can see the motion out of the corner of your eye, quickly refocusing your gaze on the bowl in your hands, the same bowl you’ve been washing for about five minutes now.
“No.”
“Why not? They’re more controlled—”
“I said no,”
“And I asked why not,” you spit, dropping the bowl from your hands. It cracks as it collides with the aluminum of the sink, the sound piercing through the tense air as you turn to glare at your brother, soapy hands on your hips. “It would be safer—”
“Marginally—”
“That’s still better than nothing, Keigo! Christ,” you sigh, running a sudsy hand through your hair. “They’re all fucking opioids, what’s the difference!? They’re all gonna get you high the same way, aren’t they?”
“No—for fuck’s sake—”
You wouldn’t understand, even if he tried to explain to you. You wouldn’t understand that he’s already attempted this, attempted to switch from heroin to pills, and that it wasn’t the same—isn’t the same. You wouldn’t understand that oxy doesn’t give the same instantaneous rush as heroin does, doesn’t take his breath away like heroin does, doesn’t warm his entire fucking body the way heroin does.
No, you wouldn’t understand how most of the time he feels like he can’t fucking breathe until he shoots up, wouldn’t understand how, at this point, heroin feels like an old friend, safe and cozy and more comforting than anything he’s ever felt before, than even your arms are, wouldn’t understand how heroin makes him feel like he’s fucking invincible, like he can take on the entire world in one day, like he can continue living.
It makes him feel whole again, full again, put back together with no cracks or missing pieces. It distracts him from how irrevocably shattered his insides truly are, providing him with quick, fleeting relief, just long enough for him to keep going, keep striving, keep breathing. But you wouldn’t understand any of that. How could you?
He’s sighing as he walks away from you, raking both hands through golden hair.
“You don’t understand—”
“No, you don’t see what this shit is doing to you! It’s killing you, niisan!”
God, no, not the honorific. Not when you’re gazing at him with tears spilling from your eyes, little hands desperately pawing at his t-shirt, urgent just to make him understand, to get through to him for one instant.
“I-It’s killing you and all I can do is watch,” your voice fades into a whisper, breaking on the last word as more tears streak your cheeks, leaving small gleaming trails in their wake, fingers readjusting, knotting in his shirt and tugging, latching onto him as he keeps walking, jaw clenching again as he tries to ignore you. “Y-You have to stop—no, no, n-not stop, just—just slow down, yeah? Slow down a little, it’s—it’s too fast, niisan, you’re going too fast—”
But it’s building, and building, and his head is throbbing, and throbbing, and your voice is rising higher and higher, louder and louder, and it’s all just too much, and before he even knows what’s happening, his hand is cutting through the air, knuckles colliding with your cheek so hard it sends you stumbling backwards, tripping over your own feet as you fall on your ass.
He regrets it the moment it happens, the very moment his skin makes contact with yours.
But that doesn’t matter; the damage is already done.
He’s never hit you before. Sure, he may be a little rough sometimes, and his grip may leave a few bruises every once in a while, but he has never deliberately hit you, until today.
He never thought he would.
Golden eyes dart from his hand, still raised in the air from where it struck you, blood gleaming on his silver rings, to your face, small and terrified, crimson flowing down your cheek, mixing with your tears as it slowly drips off your jaw, and then back to his hand.
And for a moment, he swears, the whole world stops.
Then, a mere second later, his whole world shatters.
You’re trying to form words, staring up at him with impossibly wide, unblinking eyes, but they’re just escaping your lips in little mumbles, half-formed and coated in spit.
His mouth opens, then closes, then opens again, nothing more than a pitiful huff of air formed in the shape of a curse leaving his lips.
It takes your mind a moment to register what’s happened, numb with dizzying shock, stupid with the most heartbreaking pain, dazed as tiny, trembling fingers raise to tenderly prod at the wound, wincing the moment they make contact. But the throbbing of your cheek brings you back quicker than Keigo would’ve liked, and then your eyebrows are knitting together, mouth settling in a wobbly line, blinking hard to clear your eyes of pesky tears.
And all he can do is watch, watch as you shakily push yourself to your feet, watch as your hand grips your phone like it’s a fucking lifeline—a lifeline he very briefly thinks about diving forward and snatching out of your grasp—watch as you turn on the balls of your feet and disappear down the hall, the slam of your bedroom door echoing a moment later.  
You barely make it into your bedroom before your collapsing on the floor, wheezing out uneven breaths, sharp, hard huffs of air that slice through your tight chest with each exhale, vision blurry with stinging tears as you stare down at your phone, cradled in quivering hands.
You know that if you make this phone call, Dabi will never let you come back. You know that if you make this phone call, this is it. Trembling fingers hesitate over his name, those four glowing letters staring back at you, an unnecessary amount of various heart emojis cushioning them.
He doesn’t pick up the first time. Maybe it’s a sign, you think to yourself, a sign that you shouldn’t leave just yet, that you should stay and rot away with him for a little bit longer, remain with him for a little more and give him another piece of your soul that he can add to his prized collection as he slowly steals your life force from you.
But then searing pain radiates through your entire face, along your jaw and to the back of your head, and the coppery smell of blood stings your nose, and you press on Dabi’s name again.
   ✰          ✰          ✰            
If he’s being honest, he would’ve never picked up for anyone but you, probably would’ve killed the idiot that thought to interrupt him during one of the biggest deals of his career—of his life.
“What?” he snarls as he answers, pacing along the wall outside the warehouse like a rabid dog, anxious and eager. “This better be important, sweetheart. You knew I was meeting with one of the bosses today—”
“He hit me,”
It’s hard to understand you when you’re still sobbing, words all wet and garbled, and Dabi squints as he focuses his concentration, feet skidding to a stop as his heart begins to pound.
“What?”
“He hit me. Nii—Keigo hit me,”
And then, his blood runs cold. His ears are ringing, vision fading in and out of focus as red tinges the edges, breathing beginning to accelerate, exhaled harshly through flared nostrils. The thin skin stretched taut across his bony knuckles has turned white as he grips his phone so tightly he’s surprised it doesn’t shatter in his hand.
“Pack your shit,” he tells you, voice oddly calm, cold and sterile and sending shivers skittering up your spine. “I’m gonna fucking kill him,”
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moonarchvs · 3 years ago
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Hi!!! May I request a PJO ship with male preference? 🥂
I'm Biromantic Pansexual and Genderfluid, Southeast Asian, standing 5'1", chubby, Libra, Ravenclaw, I have a brunette short bob cut and, chocolate brown eyes. I may look so nice and gentle, but very contradicting in reality I consider myself as fiery, confident, humorous, passionate Ioud, and sarcastic that doesn't have a filtered mouth---I swear a lot and I get so mean whenever I talk about something I hate. There are times I could be very awkward when things went too sudden, tends to zone out, clumsy and unfortunate, and boldly stands on what I believe, yet hypersensitive and overthinker that cries a lot, but on the other side I'm very friendly, bubbly, thoughtful, genuine who seems to be chill and unbothered, and educative on my interests. I love arts, poetry, stories, choir, makeup, studying about my religion and history, and beauty pageants. hobbies are drawing, singing, dancing when nobody's around walking like a model (if I ever feel so confident), sleeping, listening to music,chatting or browsing on social media, watching videos on YouTube, making terrible jokes/puns, writing, reading interesting things, and conceptualizing my artworks. I also used to study Italian language a bit
Babe, first of all, you sound absolutely adorable, hope u enjoy this <333 graphics by @firefly-graphics
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I ship you with Leo Valdez! I feel you two would have this meet-cute, where he was being bullied and called names (most likely by the Ares Cabin) and you would like just jump in like his knight in shining armor and defend him through and through and he just fell in love with you there and then
He loves the fiery and confident you and cannot help but find your swearing absolutely hot, he also takes complete advantage of you being an artist and asks you to draw schematics and sometimes himself (to annoy you)
Both of you are great at making bad jokes so I think sometimes you would a horrible pun and say it in unison and laugh your asses off while the others are just like 'smh'
He also caught you modelling in your empty cabin once, you were thoroughly embarrassed but he found it adorable!
You two are the whole camp's OTP and no one messes with him now that you and him were a thing.
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Join my celebration here!
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sanchoyo · 3 years ago
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danny phantom, season 3, episodes 7-13 thoughts! cannot believe im finishing this series so fast. ...cannot believe it ended like that...uh. one of the weirdest finales to a show I think I've seen, it really stood out against the rest of the series, and not in a good way, in my opinion. I paused to yell in caps lock...several times, I think, out of anger... BUT. ANYWAY, HERE WE GO.
see prev episode thoughts in this tag <3
-the fentons putting the kids to Work in the lab, with NO SAFETY GEAR. AT ALL. THEY JUST GOT BACK FROM SCHOOL AND ARE TIRED!!! and when jack asked how danny his day was and danny tried to say it was bad jack cut him off :( for the 400th time, i am stealing these kids.
-maddie and jack IMMEDIATELY SELLING THEIR LAB AND WORK FOR A LOT OF MONEY. and danny cant get into the portal anymore, oh no!!! he could always just steal vlads I Guess.
-THEY ARE VLADS NEW NEIGHBOR. OH MY GOD. this is a sitcom format. a butler came with the new mansion. i would absolutely try a kiwi fudge milkshake, why is the butler disgusted.
-the..guys in white bought the lab to shoot a missile. into the ghost zone thru the portal. bro i hate these guys
-jazz straight up setting her new bedroom up in the library. i am very very jealous
-"RATED E, FOR ENTRAILS"
-I like how the 14 year olds very quickly realize if the giw destroy the ghost zone itll destroy OUR ZONE because its just. like. the other side of the quarter so to speak. and the giw, a fully funded government agency, didnt consider that...(or worse, are willing to risk that anyway...)
-a...graphic novel version of the constitution? what in the world have you been READING SAM
-'cool, I always wanted to be called a meddling kid!' scooby doo reference...
-can they keep the butler. I love him.
-ecto latte....I also want to try that. is ectoplasm edible...
-YESS I KNEW DANNY WOULD USE VLAD'S PORTAL. vindicated.
-DANNY WHY DIDNT YOU JUST ASK JOHNNY NICELY. STEALING HIS BIKE IS SO SO RUDE.
-youngblood is also into astronaut stuff, thats really cute. and him being like 'phantom, dude!! :D' ALL EXCITED. THATS ADORABLE.
-the slapstick comedy of the giw slipping and falling and running into shit in the lab. is funny, but also, because this lab has NOOO safety codes in practice. god its a wonder dannys the only one to have died here...
-JOHNNY, SKULKER AND YOUNGBLOOD HELPING DANNY!!! I keep saying it but the other ghosts helping him. is my fav thing in the world. and, it's a really good thing the missile in the real world was harmless...otherwise the fentons wouldn't have had a home/lab to come back to...
-WULF WANTED POSTER!!! we havent seen wulfy in so long :( very funny the box ghost is offended by how much these ghosts are wanted for. first off, what do ghosts even DO WITH MONEY. does the ghost zone have its own currency??? what are ghosts BUYING
-the box ghost is So Funny, im so glad hes still got his bubble wrap. u are VERY wanted in THIS house box ghost. you are SO scary king. dont give up on ur dreams
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-this needs to be a meme format. I made a transparent version, very very messily, for future use.
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-this is a Fellow and a Friend
-box ghost accidentally bringing lunch for everyone, and giving people at the mall free shoes. SHOES ARE SO EXPENSIVE, ID BE SO GRATEFUL. helpful king. i feel SO bad for him lmao, he's putting in SO much effort. he wants the evil aesthetic So bad but hes Just Too Silly. I understand your plight, box ghost....
-oh my god. pandoras BOX. 'THOSE OF US IN THE BOX TRADE' HOW MANY ARE IN THIS BOX TRADE. I WANT IN. pandora is a multi-armed ghost goddess and i love her.
-SKULKER WHY ARE YOU RUNNING FROM THE EVIL UNICORN?? YOURE A HUNTER!! JUST SHOOT IT!!!!!!! JUST HUNT IT!!!
-box ghost...where did you get the cowboy hat. I respect it, i just want to know
-JAZZ COMING IN WITH THE BAZOOKA TO FIGHT THE 10 HEADED DRAGON!!! YEAH!!!!!!!!!!! and the rest of the fentons I Guess
-ignoring the sam/danny moments. I simple do not see them.
-...why doesnt danny just fly over the maze. or do the whole 'real world people act as ghosts in the ghost zone' and turn back!!! I know its just to show off the ghost greek monster designs. but STILL.
-danny being like. um. hi pandora. i found your box. >< polite...PANDORA IS SO GIANT. GIANT GHOST WOMAN. SHES GOING TO BEAT BOX GHOSTS ASS. another ghost thats nice to danny to add to the list :) and HER FORCING BOX GHOST TO APOLOGIZE. and having sandwiches with danny after making box ghost clean up. I LOVE HER.
-DANNYS 'BEWARE' AT THE END JAKHDJFKN
-okay, when dash pulled out danny's seat and was calling him buddy, for half a second I was like 'this is a prank, hes gonna pull it back' BUT THEN FRIGHT KNIGHT MY BELOVED IS BACK. AND EVERYONE STARTS CHANTING FOR DANNY TO BEAT HIS ASS WITH GHOST POWERS AND DANNY DOES WAY TOO EASILY, and im like, yup, this is a dream LMAO
-danny is getting an A+ in science :) my smart son
-DANNY WAKING UP FROM THE DREAM RIGHT BEFORE KISSING SAM AND BEING LIKE 'that was a dream...no, a NIGHTMARE!' same. not to be a hater but, shouldve been val. maybe I am a hater
-...danny running and checking the 'tapes'...why is his whole house constantly being recorded. hes been in ghost form/fights plenty of times in his house. does he have to run and wipe the tapes after?? every single time?? god
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-letting this image speak for itself
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-this is SO cursed
-NOCTURN'S DESIGN FUCKS SO HARD. the Venice mask vibes. also his space pattern not moving while the rest of his animation does is big chowder vibes. but this guy is basically the sandman but Evil, huh. I love dream plots. also, nocturn's design feels very similar to clockwork, like, red eyes and a scar over the same eye, but also just the purple, and the Cosmic Vibes. I want to see them fight. anyway nocturn's va was also avatar roku AND alfred in several batman cartoons.
-the 'sleepwalkers' designs were super cute in shape (kinda remind me of oogie boogie! pillow-cased shaped, which is appropriate for the 'king of dreams's minions) until I looked closer at their eyes. why do they look sewn shut!! (they open their eyes a few times, so they aren't, but they look like it...)
-I like how this show has been pretty consistent (with a few exceptions) about a Ghost Being Huge (or getting larger) = Very Powerful
-2 months of summer camping??? wtf, do camping things usually take that long?? I've never been to a camping...thing like that. but isnt that basically their entire summer??
-'the entirety of nature is your bathroom!' and thats why I do no camping despite loving nature LMAO.
-sam, at least TRY TO BE NICE TO THE OTHER GIRLS YOU'RE GOING TO BE SHARING A CABIN WITH. also, the amount of times people in this show have their SHOES ON THE BED!!! IM DISGUSTED
-swamp creature Is A Ghost. Big Foot is a Ghost. starting to think in this universe, every single cryptid or legend is a Ghost Actually
-paulina crying not only because star is missing, but because SHE FORGOT HER SUNBLOCK AND SHE BURNS SO EASILY!!!! okay girlfriends
-ghost cops are the real monsters at the camp. i.......I mean. fair. no one missed you walker
-WULF!!!!!!!!!!! WULF IS BACK!!!!!!!! MY FRIEND WULF :D MI AMAS VIN!!!!! kaj danny lernis Esperanto :)
-'relax kid, we arent here to do any harm' *immediately shoots danny* yeah. ghost cops. and also danny bringing walker 'wulf' and walker IMMEDIATELY SUCKING DANNY IN A THERMOS. FUCK OFF
-haha walker Bald. and haha walker Frozen Now
-the fenton thermos can...reverse its polarity to close portals? okay
-LIBERA MIA AMIKO. :")
-ohhh they end the ep with them star gazing, thats pretty cute...
-dani is back! ...with a new voice actress? wiki says AnnaSophia was in 3 diff movies in 2007 when this aired, so she was probably too busy... (including, bridge to terabithia aka the movie that ripped my heart out that I mentioned in the first ep Dani was in...kinda wanna rewatch it now)
-shes still scared of vlad, who's still being creepy and spying on her. 'shes hardly going to come home to daddy!' I WONDER WHY. also does vlad's cat look more evil than last time? love the concept of him going shopping for cats and being like 'give me your most EVILEST looking cat, please, so I can pet it in my spinny chair dramatically!' ...oh god white cat hair on his black suit. I have a black cat and her hair is still way too noticeable..
-vlad has a big 'valerie' button in his office. can he be pressing that button every episode, thanks
-'theres a GIRL called dani phantom?' yeah valerie. no relation, obviously, even with her looking EXACTLY like danny. so sad valerie just wants to help her dad and her get out of the place theyre in now and vlad using her. ill MAUL HIM
-dani having to STEAL FOOD. :( and valerie immediately being like oh poor kid :(( and trying to help her!!! and then dani immediately helping valerie!! this episode is starting SO well
-...and then valerie catching her. DAMN IT. and being surprised dani knew danny?? HELLO VALERIE I KNOW YOURE SMARTER THAN THIS. I AM SO SORRY THEY WROTE YOU THIS WAY. I STILL LOVE AND BELIEVE IN U !!!
-valerie lying her ASS off for a chance at gettin danny. ok <3 also 'they couldnt catch a ghost if it was living under their own roof' JSDHKJHNK
-danny. why dont you just tell valerie!! this would be so much easier if he was direct. there is NO way valerie would hurt danny (fenton) she'd be HORRIFIED. esp since she got on board helping dani!!
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*is held* :)
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-look at valerie and danny. flying together. about to go beat vlads ass together <333
-DANI SCREAMING AS VLAD IS MELTING HER. WHAT THE FUCCCK
-...fucking vlad convincing valerie hes a good dude with his stupid duplication. FUCK. DANNY JUST TELL H E R
-jesus christ how many times has danny had to watch loved ones die. even if she didnt stay perma-dead. glad they fixed her...
-valerie and dani pranking danny when he came out, oh :( cute...them havin fun and laughing together...babies
-BUT THEYRE JUST LETTING DANI LEAVE, AGAIN??? SHE WAS PREVIOUSLY STEALING FOOD. CHRIST GIVE HER A PLACE TO LIVE. OR A FAMILY. actually, I think it'd be really cute if, since danny isnt ready to out himself, dani went and lived with valerie?? dunno if her dad would have the money but,, it'd be a cute concept. big sis valerie...
-'tomorrow, it's game on!' 'and ill be ready to play!' THE FLIRTING....DANNY/VALERIE REAL
-oh my god,, valerie found out about vlad in the end. But he doesn’t know she knows!!! the DRAMA!!! HOLY SHIT THAT ENDING.
-this episode was. SO Much and probably one of my favorites out of s3. (I mean, there has been a gross lack of valerie this whole season, so thats not a hard choice to make...)
-FINALE EPISODE TIME.
-the title screen looks different! so no title card...
-vlad has his own fucked up satellite that looks like him?? okay. why does the animation look so different?? are they mixing cg in?? for what. anyway, vlad and the gang in SPACE. danny is 100% living his astronaut dreams rn
-'defeating frostbite' YOU BETTER NOT HAVE. YOU STOLE HIS COOL MAP. FUCK YOU VLAD
-wait oh my god. vlad is the final series boss, isn't he. I half expected a fake out, for another boss to show up midway, and for him to finally have to have a real truce with danny for this ep. ITS THE FINALE. VLAD FEELS SO UNDERWHELMING.
-And it's like-- his character isn't bad, i just feel like..he has more potential! they WANT him to seem like some smart super evil genius, but the way he's written makes that SO hard to believe...but the solid backstory and design is THERE and its FRUSTRATING.
-...DANNY CALLING VLAD OUT SAYING HE NEEDS THERAPY LMAOO THATS WHAT IVE BEEN SAYING.
-my grandpa technus is in the finale too :) 'well look on the bright side, at least im not downloading them illegally!' he says while stealing dvds. feels like hes calling me out. im watching this series on a bootleg website lmao. anyway, him turning the tech into a transformer. love that
-mASters BLASters sTOp diSAsterS shut the fuck up. you will never be valerie or danny. bite chomp kill. violence
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-like this if u crie everytiem
-my god the 3d/cgi mixed in looks SO BAD IT DIDNT AGE WELL AT ALL
-the white stripe in dannys hair kinda rules tho. did he just KILL HIS GHOST HALF??? 'revert his human half back to normal' UM. you ever unkill yourself. why are his friends/jazz so mad about it, he'll be in a lot less danger!! christ. they can still hunt ghosts!! as humans!! if they want to!! hes 14 if he wanted to be normal. let him. vlads stupid little team has things COVERED apparently. why are they acting like this. jazz would never act like this. is this fake whats going ON
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-oh my god jack was in a college band. vlad was also in the band. what did instruments they play. i didnt need that headline to tell me they sucked, but i want to KNOW MORE REGARDLESS
-valerie was here for 0.3 seconds.
-sam calling danny selfish. the audacity. no one is stopping YOU from hunting ghosts, girl. valerie does it!!
-I'm halfway through the episode and incredibly underwhelmed so far.
-why would they send jack and 3 teens to space to destroy the asteroid. why not professional astronauts. not even the 3 teens that have already been to space this episode...
-jack getting beat up by teenagers. ON TV. IN SPACE. I GUESS. I GUESS EVERYONE AGREED TO SEND JACK BECAUSE..VLAD SAID SO? we know it was to embarrass jack, but why would everyone agree. why didnt any other space program Do More or whatever, they sent like, 3 rockets/missiles tops?? no way
-danny attempting to punch vlad in the face. i WISH HE WOULDVE LANDED THAT HIT.
-vlad outed himself on live tv, on purpose? and BLASTED AT THE TEENAGERS HE HIRED. LMAO. HES HOLDING THE WORLD HOSTAGE, MAKING THEM PAY HIM BILLIONS TO STOP THE STUPID ASTROID. THATS YOUR GRAND PLAN??? REALLY. REALLY. im like. lmfao
-jack just now, on the last episode GETTING TOLD HE MADE VLAD A GHOST. THIS SHOULDVE HAPPENED WAY SOONER. jack's reaction was one of the only times in this entire show hes seemed human. 'an old friend? no. you? yes.' GET HIS ASSSS ACTUALLY. HE STRAIGHT UP LEFT VLAD IN SPACE. GOD DAMN. that is a Murder! I mean, I guess vlad could fly back to earth, but...I mean, he'll have to, right? no food in space. (that we KNOW of...)
-'thE WHolE EArtH, INTangiBLe?!' oh my god.
-...the white strand of hair somehow still had ghost dna, I guess, and getting blasted turned him back into phantom. I GUESS. I GUESS.
-the fentons being the first to clap for danny despite not knowing hes phantom...that was sweet. and very sudden character development, not at all gradual over the course of time or episodes like it probably should have been...
-sam and danny kissing. IT SHOULDVE BEEN VALERIE, BUT OKAY, I GUESS. also, its a little underwhelming, considering theyve kissed already...
-ALL of the ghosts being ready to beat danny's ass? really. no they wouldn't, they've worked together before, and some of those ghosts are friendly!! cringe. why is the last ep written like this. I mean they came thru at the last minute but. was really cringing for a minute there, why did they write it like that
-valerie is there for another 0.3 seconds! ....she should've been more involved. dani is also there! for also like 0.3 seconds. almost fast enough to miss. (btw, I think shes still homeless at this point, are, we going to...do ANYTHING ABOUT THAT IN THE LAST 5 MINS OF THE SHOW)
-the cgi smoke or whatever it is. this whole post is me saying the cgi is bad, but IT IS.
-'danny or should we say. DAAANNNNY.' this is like the 3rd or 4th time hes been outed damn, but to the whole world, again. and valerie saw, and is just. an extra in the bg clapping. bro im so mad.
-TUCKER IS THE NEW MAYOR? WHAT THE FUCK?? HES 14.
-i think. this is still linked to the dream ep a few times ago. hes still dreaming. this is a plot a 14 year old would write. this feels like a bad fanfic. so much got rushed, and not tied up. vlad wasnt really even the villain this episode, a fucking. non-being asteroid was.
-they kiss again. ok. sure. whatever at this point.
-VLAD IS NOW A FREE-ROAMING SPACE NOMAD. I GUESS. THATS. SURE. WHATEVER. THE END, I GUESS. cannot believe I'm saying this, but: they did vlad dirty.
-IF YOU'RE GOING TO MAKE HIM A VILLAIN, MAKE HIM A VILLAIN!!! DON'T MAKE IT A METEOR!!! STOP BEING WISHY WASHY WHO WANTS TO SEE DANNY VS ASTEROID!!! I didnt even WANT vlad to be the final villain because his character is SO back and forth (esp this season.) but he has done some FUCKED UP SHIT AND I WANTED THE WRITERS TO DOUBLE DOWN, PERSONALLY, IF THEY HAD TO MAKE HIM THE FINAL BOSS. the cabin ep where he basically held danny and maddie hostage? FUCKED. THE DANI THING? FUCKED. FUCKING COMMIT AND MAKE HIM ACTUALLY SCARY OR HAVE HIM FUCK OFF AND AGREE TO A TRUCE!! WHAT IS THIS DYING IN SPACE NONSENSE. (and, he will (fully) die out there, right? still half human, still needs food and water. I imagine he'll like, slowly half-die but this time his human side is dying. will he come back 100% ghost? we dONT KNOW. WE DONT GET TO SEE, ITS PLAYED LIKE SOME FUNNY THING AT THE END, THEN THATS IT!!! WHAT!!!)
-I don't know how to articulate how FRUSTRATING THAT IS. having him basically out himself and ''hold the world hostage'' does not track at all in my brain. like. he's always been scary because he is HUMAN, TOO. like, if he was 100% ghost, he'd be LESS scary, but vlad MASTERS has more power and influence than vlad PLASMIUS because of his position as mayor, his money, too, and his (supposed, s3 made me doubt it) intelligence/manipulation skills, and his being in good graces with jack made it HARD FOR DANNY. him outing himself for,, money and to 'control the world' i guess?? MONEY WAS NEVER HIS LIKE, MAIN GOAL. yeah obv he likes money and is materialistic and values his Rich Life, but hes got billions, the end goal? 1. getting maddie (and or danny as his son, but to me he always treated that as secondary) 2. ruining jack. this feels like they wanted to say 'oh he just wants POWER' which is. HMM?? OKAY?? obv he /does/ want power (usually over certain ppl, tho), but seeing him try to get it like this FELT WEIRD SOMEHOW. weird like the ep where he tried and failed to take over various historical civilizations, because like,, how is that realistically going to do anything for him?? just, being in that time forever and never seeing maddie aka Goal #1 again?? HELLO??? this was like that, but worse
-this was such a weird ending to an entire show. why did season 3 only have 13 episodes?? why did it feel so weirdly paced?? WHY WAS THE ENDING LIKE THAT. I think. I am going to pretend I did not see that. fucked up, dudes. I'm like...hm. I shouldn't have watched that because now I'm mad. valerie sweetie im SO sorry you shouldve been more present. it felt like..if they knew this season was going to be short, and the last season, they should've spent more time wrapping up EVERYONE'S plot lines for the entire season. imagine how cool it wouldve been if every single ep of season 3 was working towards something, a big, nice wrap up at the end, with nothing feeling TOO rushed because they'd been heading towards the End for the whole season....
I will probably end up writing a follow up full series thoughts post. In a couple of days so I can sit with my thoughts. BUT. overall, I really liked the show! (ignoring the finale and some of the moments that aged pretty poorly...) it was charming and a fun concept and very fun to watch in general :) and I am pretending the finale didnt happen <3 and I’m gonna dive RIGHT into the dp tags and mix fanart and posts in my queue, very excited to run and look at that 🏃🏻 (and, of course, make more fanart myself hehe >:3)
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sunnibearr · 2 years ago
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THE NEW THEMEEEEE JDKAJDJSJD JISOOOOO LOML
HOW DID U LIKE PINK VENOM????
AHHH YESSSS I LOVE JISOO SM <333
okay okay, im sorry but this will probably be unnecessarily long TT (because i have no kpop friends to talk abt this to) so enjoy ig??
INITIALLY i did not like it. well it's not that i didn't like it, per se, i was just not impressed. originally i thought it sounded too much like their other songs mashed together and 'not worth the wait'.
BUT OMFG the more i listen to it the more i like it i can't lie!! (here's where it gets longer oops sorry not sorry) THE GRAPHICS BRO!!!! the music video is so cool and (my baby) jisoo finally got some more well deserved screen time ahhhh!!! i like the outfits & styles in this one sm but that's a topic for a different day BUT ALSO LISA MY LOVE FINALLY GOT SOME FOREHEAD LOL!!
but seriously, jisoo's parts are just so <33 as always. i love her. can you tell? but yeah she got some very well deserved lines and screen time (but she needs more istg) ANYWAYS all in all the more i listen to the song the more i like it!! also the main "it's that pink venom" part is becoming harder and harder to not sing sksnskdn its so catchy TT ALSO ROSÉ IN BLACK GOO IS HOT. I SAID IT. THE CONTRAST OF HER HAIR WITH THE BLACKNESS??? THE PEOPLE WHO WERE IN CHARGE OF THE MV'S VISUAL CONCEPT ARE SO GOOD WTF
so yes, in short: i didn't like it at first but i really like it now! :D stream pink venom <3
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beryul-blog · 7 years ago
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so  i’ve  reached  a  milestone .   ive  loved  luke  ever  since  i   first  watched  the  movies  when  i   was  seven  years  old  and??????honestly  my  love  for  him  hasn’t  changed?????  having  said  that ,   my   love   and   understanding   for   his   character   would   not   have   been   where   it   is   now   without   you   guys.    im  just   so   grateful   and   balled   over   at   the   talent ,   creativity ,   and   passion   of   everyone   i   follow   and   idk   expressing   emotions   is   not   my   strong   suit   so   uhhhhhhhh   yeahhhhhhhh   ilu<333   im   way   too   adh.d  for  this   i  stg ZOOM ZOO M TO  THE SPECIAL  MENT I O N S
THE BLUE MILK  (  the  duplicates  ---  some  id  consider  friends  )
ooOooOh boy .    you   guys  i  cant   even   bE  GIN  to  explain  my   love  for   y’all .     i   have   the   biggest   duplicate   angziety  in   the   world .    its   in   my   nature   i   cant   help   it   and   honestly??????/all   your   interpretations   terrify   me   bu t in a good way i promise   bc   theyre   all   so   unique   and   well   thought   out   and   amazing  and   what   makes   it   even   wor S E   is   that   all   of   you   (  even  the  ones  that  i  dont  speak  to  all  that  often  )   are   the   sweetest,   most   talented ,   sensitive ,   passionate   individuals   ive   met   online????? EV E R.   also   all   these   comments   are  genuine  not   sarcastic aslkjaksdnasl   (forgive  me  im  british  i  thin k  everything  sounds  sarcastic)
@horizonwept  :   charlie????mY. G OD.   your   understanding   and   enthusiasm   of   our   Son   is   unparalleled   and?????? ik   we   dont  speak  that   much  recently  b u  T  I  WANT  TO  MORE????? everytime   you  post   something   i   press  mah   lil   face   up   to   the   screen   and   weepe t h .   you’re   also   kind   and   funny   and   people   just????? love  u?????AND  I lov e  u  too?????  al SO   you   convinced   me   of   lukes   characterisation   in    tlj   and   tfa   and   honestly????im   so  s O   glad   u   did<3   everythign  u   post   is  just   so   thought  out   and   intelligent  and   i   just.   wish.   i   could  do   wht   u   do???   keep   being  amazing   sweaty  :’) @lstjedi  :   KAY!!!!!!!   the   founder   of   the   lu k e   slywalker  group   chat   *g a sps*   mah   love.   now   i   know   youve   been   feeling   a   lil   insecure   recently   about   ur   age   and  ur   mental   health  has   been   acting   up   (belief  me  i  know<3 )   b u T  HUN NN Y   listen   up:   you   ar e  the   symbol   of   dont-judge-by-age   policy   bc   honestly???? u   have   the   skill,   dedication,   and   maturity  of   people   who   are   twice   ur   age.   ur   passion????? unbelievable.   ur   kindness?????  one  of   a   kind.   ur  maturity?????? uhhhh more   than   me.     ur   writing???? delicious.    if   youre   feeling   insecure   about   your  age,   dont.      you   are  amazing   and   talented   and   dont   u   d  A  RE    forget   it<3   edit:   also   i   love  how   you   come   onto   the   chat   being   the  first  person  to   talk   and  ur   like  ‘hi  guys!!!’  and   idk  i   just   find   u  really   sweet   and  friendlyasjdna,nda @skyhcpped  :    ro!!!!!!!   henlo   there  my   frond.    first   of   all   wh  ERE   DO  U   FIND  ALL   THESE   MEMES??????  im loving it keep going.    we   havent   spoken   much   b U T   the  groupchat   has   brought   us   Together   and   thats   the   best   thing   ever   bc   i   think   ur   just?????? so   talented   and   ur   understanding   and   love   for   luke  (eveninmemes)  is   unparalleled.   i   love   talking   about   our   mutual  Hate  for  re/ylo   and   a L SO   i   hope   ur   not   still   freezing   on   hoth?????if  you  are cold,   wrap   up   warm,   grab   urself   a   hot  chocolate   if   u   like   that   sort   of   thing,  run  a   bath,   uhhhhhhhhh  create   a   pillow   fort,   find   a   tauntaun   and   sit   inside  it.   that   was   my   survival   lecture  thanks  for  coming  to  my  ted  talk  :)))))   also  the  fact  u  are.  literally.  daredevil???? taking  a s  hot  of  vinegar  and terrified   a   boy??? my  hero, mah idol.    i   did   a   reverse  thing  where  i  dared  (2)  boys  to  take  a  teaspoon   of   vanilla   essence   and   they  did  it   (s o empowering  ;)
@lightswept  :   riceeeeee.   honestly  how  can   anyone   ever   hate   you????    we   havent   been   talking   for   v   long   but   omgskdnf   you   are   so   sweet   and   lovely   and   u   deserve   The  World?????   haters   need   to   back  tf   up   bc   u   are   so   Pu re.    and   ur   also   really   attentive?????  your   writing   is   just   so   fluent  and  honestly??a  full   course  meal.   remember   that  i   love   and  appreciate   you   and  thats   NEVER  going  to   change<333   if  u  ever   need   to   talk,   i  am  always   here   even   tho  im   shit   at   advice   i  will   send  u   metaphorical  cake  and  hugs xoxo
@hopegave  :   mY  ITALIAN  BEAN.   look  at  us  europeans  yesiknowbrexit,   awake   when   all   the   ‘muricans   are   sleep i n g  asljdaksl   ur   honestly   adorable??????like   i   cant even  begin?????on  the  group   chat   youre   so   enthusiastic  and   capiTAL  LETTERS   and   asjaklsdlka  so   Pu re???  and  both  of   us   gushing  about   snow  ??????? iconic,  truly.  you,   being   the   first  person  to   call   ne w   york   hoth????? also  iconic.  ITALY  IS  ONE  OF   MY   FAV   PLACES   ON  EARTH  I   GO  THERE   A   LOT  IN   THE  SUMMERASFJHSD b U T  thats  off  topic.  what  i   need  to   say   is   that   ilu   and   ur   enthusias m   and  friendliness   and   yeah??????   stay  awesome
 @dualsuns   :   LIAM   IDK  WHY  IM   TELLING   U   THIS   BUT  WHENEVER   I   THINK   OF   U   I   THINK   OF   WINE???????  m aybe  its  bc   ur   prose  is   so   damn   sophistica t e d?????  its  so   fluent   and   makes  s o  much  sense???? ur  so   good   at   narrating   lukes   thoughts   its   so   obvious   you   have  this  amazing   understanding   of   his   character  its  !!!!!!!!  and   i   seriously  admire  that/?   like  your   voice   is  uhhh h   on  point .    i  can   tell   you   take   this   seriously   and   care  so   much   about   luke    (boi   me  too)  and  it   shows????  in   all   ur   hcs   and   ooc   posts   its   all   backe d   up   with    quotes,   love   and   analysis  like   damnnnnnnnn.   i   know  ive   only   really   interacted   w   you   a   couple  of   times   in    passing   but   id   love  to   more?????   ur   amazing   everythings   amazing  wow<3
 @didntturn   :    hmm mMMMM Mm   kylie.   have   we   ever  spoken?????  i   dont   think   so.   i   just   admire  u   from   afar   :’)   g U RL   first   of  all   ur   hilarious????  idk   i   think  we’ve  got   a   similar  sense   of   humour aklsdnanm  its   very   british.   also  ur   hcs   t a KE  MY  BREATH   AWAY.   so  muc h  detail   and   love?????   u   clearly   have   a   deep   understanding   of   luke  only  us   mere   mortals   can   d  REA M   of<3   hope  we   can   start   talking   bc   i   uhhhh  adore   ur   characterisation   and   id   love   to   discuss?????  idk   im   gushinggggggg
THESE  ARE  ONLY   SOME  DUPLICATES  I  COULD  GUSH  ABOUT  EVERY  SINGLE  ONE  OF  U  UNTIL  THE  DAY  I  DI  E
THE DROIDS  (  mah  main cretins  )  
@guiltslut  :   yh  idk  who  u   ar e   :/    j K  BINCH  IK  UR   WENDO!!!!!   mah  main  cretin  :’)   youve   been   by   my  side   for   8   months   (or   was  it   seven???? i cant rememberasdkajsdk)  which   is   an,, ,, ,  achievement.   your   writing  is   tasty  af   and   ur   enthusiasm  unparalleled.   i  will   always  love  and   appreciate   you<3
@smuglr  :   i   have   to   put   u  on  here   bc   we’ve  known   each   other   for   over   a  year   and   thats   kinda   mcCrazy??? im  sorry  i  havent   kept   in  touch  as   much  as  i  probably   should   have,  but  im   more  sorry   for  making  u   think  i   was   on   bath salts   when  i   was  quoting  bad  lip   reading  :/   honestly   ever  since  the  beginning   ive   admired   ur   prose   so   much???? its   so   good   and  attentive   and  poetic  and  fluent  i  just???? could   gush   about   it   all   weak   tbhhhhhh  your   graphics   and   aethetics   are   also ?????? amazing?????? im  so   happy   that  i  know  u   and  even  after  all  this  time   i  still  love   and  appreciate  u<33  Stay groovy  mah  frond
@primdoe   :    sO   ik   i   havent  known   u   for   very   long   at  all   n  this   is   probably   like?????? a  lil   Extra??????   but   im   already  in  love.   i  could  gush   about   ur   oc   for  Yonks   and   just   how   passionate  and   attentive   you   are  to  her????? shes   so   detailed   and   cared  about   by   many   and   you   inspire   me  to  put  more  detail  into  my  own  ocs askdjasmnd???? ur  graphics  and  ps  skills  are  just????? they  water  my  crops  honestly???? and the fact that you gave me one of your psds is the sweetest ilu??  
SPACE SHIPS  (  the  i-admire-from-afar-but-also-interracted-with-in-the-ims-and-loVING IT-so-far-even-tho-im-shit-at-replying????  category  )  
@aequitia ,    @astrmech ,  @awokeforce ,  @baelnc ,   @deadlymarch ,   @elanere  ,   @hopehrt ,  @rystolo  ,   @scintist  ,   @sunworn .
SUNSETS   (  the  i  admire  and  havent  interacted  with  yet  *__* )
@dynste ,  @entropiet ,  @ersoic ,  @flypulse ,   @forcebled ,  @galasymph ,  @greysistance ,  @jaigsight ,   @midlapse ,  @tiefighting ,  @resistijo ,  @roseared ,  @starkniight ,  @theforcetm ,   @rotichor  ,   @scorpyre .
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studierten-blog · 7 years ago
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⭐ hello! my name is percy and ive been lurking around on studyblr/studytube (? is that what it’s called idk) and decided to make myself one because i go back to school in a couple of weeks and i could do with some structure in my last year of school! ⭐
abt me -
⭐ 17 ⭐ he/him/his  ⭐ infp ⭐ hufflepuff ⭐ very gay ⭐ in year 13/upper sixth/last year of senior school  ⭐ i study graphic communication, german and theatre studies! ⭐ english is my first language but i am fairly fluent in german! i want to pick up french again one day and hopefully learn japanese ⭐ my aim is to go to university to study art and animation ⭐ i track my url! 
why did i make a studyblr? -
⭐ i need!!!!! more motivation!!!! i just got my recent AS exam grades back and i did well but i know if i actually studied properly i would’ve done so much better! and i started a bujo to help study but i really need to crank it up as im going into my last year of school ⭐ sometimes going on tumblr on my main blog can be a bit eek because of all the discourse and it’ll be nice to have somewhere that can be more chill! ⭐ ive not seen many guys who have studyblrs? i mean maybe i’m totally wrong and i’d definitely like to be!!!!!  ⭐ ive been inspired by so many blogs and youtube channels that i had to make my own! but i dont think i’ll branch out onto youtube until uni aha!
inspo -
⭐ @studyquill​ ⭐ @emmastudies​ ⭐ @waystostudy​ ⭐ @studyign​ ⭐ @soymilkstudies​ ⭐ @studyblr​ ⭐ @s-u-n-n-y-blr​ ⭐
⭐ please like/reblog this so i have lots more blogs to follow and im sure i’ll enjoy my time here! thank you <333 ⭐
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princepsomnum-blog · 7 years ago
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DEAR LORD HOW DID THIS EVEN HAPPEN HOW DO I DO THESE THINGS
Hello, I don’t know where to start but, just thank you I guess??? I never thought I’d get to 100+, I’ve only had this blog for a couple of months or so now? Not my first time having an RP blog but the first time I made one & actually used it for more then a week, & honestly couldn’t have wished for anymore of a welcoming experiences. I’m glad my muse for Noct as well as my love lasted this long to even see me getting this many follows!! He is my tired son & is so fun & easy to write & I am happy that so many of you enjoy my portrayal. I didn’t think I would be noticed that much to be honest ‘cause of how many other Noctis’ there are. They are all just as amazing & great to be honest!!
Onto the people!! Of course gonna but under a read more ‘cause I have a few things I wanna say & might ramble on. But here we go~!!
First of I have to give huge HUGE thanks to the two people that honestly are the main reason I even got into tumblr RPing. They are amazing & kind people & I am so grateful for knowing them. Opal & Verz are inspirations honestly, & if it wasn’t for them I wouldn’t have even been given the push to make any blog. They deserve so much & sometimes are so much better then they give themselves credit for, I owe them so much!!! <33
Also, huge credit to Opal for making the graphic for this ‘cause I can’t graphic design to save my sorry ass. I like to draw pretty pictures & colour things in, the only thing I’m good at with photoshop honestly. They were both practically offended of what I tried to make let’s just say.
Their blogs!! I’ll post the ones I know you’re most active one kinda cause I don’t know which ones :U @falconiidae​ // @warflowered​ // @clairdxlune // @solraised​ // @venatordcminus​ // @missperegcine
For others that I have RPed with very often or so & have made my experience so much fun!!
You guys I have had the biggest pleasure of meeting, whether we have talked a lot OOC or not, but you guys are the people that I always enjoy greatly whether I see you pop into my askbox or so & honestly get so excited when I do!! Always a fun time rping with & just seeing you guys on my dash!!
@solusvici // @floweringeclipse // @freknur​ // @theplagueofstars // @trashkingizunia // @triggerxhappy // @lunaliee // @reaprise // @commodorexaranea 
To the many others that I have interacted with a little but definitely would to do a lot more with or just simply admire from afar ‘cause I am a shy awkward bean & too nervous to say hi first!!
Whether we have simply only just followed one another or yet to properly interact with other then the odd times, IC or OOC, or even just rped but yet to do anything else, I love seeing you guys too & seeing the content you put out. I definitely would love to do more if ever you wanna come for some random starters or memes or even plotting. May have talked a little about some ideas but I definitely wanna do more, & also to those I am yet to really interact with but so far I have been admiring you from afar!! Keep up the great work & it’s always a joy to see you on my dash!! One day I’ll be brave enough to talk to you all!!
@badassbarmaid // @itaidoshin // @rexcrystallis // @daemonmade // @no-consequence // @oracleofthegods // @ofguidanceandcharge // @leorugiet // @divinelybled // @piictograph // @gnzlngr // @croweoftheglaive // @loyalule // @sinstress // @thekingsshield // @tidesmother
I’m probably missing some people I fell need a mention but forever anyone else, just a big thank you for following me, I’m happy to see that you’re interested in me trying to do Noctis justice, & hopefully in the very near future we may write some beautiful things together~!!
Here’s to another 100!! <333
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