#spare a braincell your highness

[colorofneurosis]

Still beyond pissed at Amerie for actively poking the chicken and risking making it worse for Harper to assuage her own guilt but MORE IMPORTANTLY for dragging DARreN of all people into that idiotic mess of a plan with her??

And then. Then. (sorry need a second) LEAVING. THEM??? In Chook’s unsavory claws????

GIRL. You cannot possibly be that dense. 

[devildom-moss]

Calling them "baby girl" in front of others (the new side characters)

(Raphael, Mephisto, and Thirteen x gn!MC)

(Suggestive)

A/N: Since there are only 3, I made these a bit longer. Requested by: @student-in-devildom

Raphael

The adults at Purgatory Hall came to visit Lucifer for a drink or two from a new bottle of Demonus that Diavolo gifted him – which meant that Lucifer invited Raphael and Simeon in a rare instance of nostalgia, but they brought Solomon along with them out of affection. Asmodeus and Satan decided to join in, too, with Asmo practically dragging you along with him.

You received individual texts from both Solomon and Simeon that they were heading over. The drinking got a little heavier than expected between the seven of you. Although, you and Solomon had nothing to worry about. Asmo, on the other hand, was poking at your side – deep into his tipsy phase – and whispered into your ear, daring you to try to fluster Raphael. “He’s so straight-faced and uptight, MC. You should do something about it, love.”

You had to admit that he was right, you wouldn’t mind seeing what he looks like when he’s flustered. You were friendly enough, but Raphael hadn’t shown much in the way of interest. You weren’t even sure what would work on a guy like him and not provoke the spears, so you might as well try something way out of left field. You grabbed the bottle of Demonus, taking it to Raphael, and asked him, “can I pour you another drink, baby girl?”

Lucifer slow-blinked, and both Simeon and Satan nearly choked. Solomon was biting back a laugh – and Asmodeus was too. Everyone’s eyes were on you, even Raphael’s. He tilted his head to the side.

“I’m not a girl. Wait. Did you think I was a girl this whole time?” Asmodeus lost it and started cracking up in the background while Solomon tried to hush him up. Satan’s attention turned to Lucifer, who looked like you had broken every spare braincell he had prepared to use that day. Lucifer took the bottle from your hands and topped his glass off.

Even though gender doesn’t mean much to an angel, Raphael didn’t know how to feel. He was a bit hurt, though, and it showed on his face. He thought you knew him well enough to at least know he didn’t identify as a girl. You quickly started to explain to him that you were trying to tease him to see if he got flustered, but even then, he didn’t understand.

“Why would that make me flustered? That doesn’t make sense.”

“Well, you see,” you started while Lucifer and Simeon downed another glass, “sometimes people enjoy being called nicknames like that and it turns them on.”

Raphael looked up at you and nodded. He grabbed your thighs from his seated position and used them to pull you onto him, so you were straddling his lap. With no concern for the glares from Lucifer and Satan, he leaned into your neck. He dropped his voice, but the room was silent enough that everyone could hear him speak: “if you wanted to seduce me, you should have tried physical touch.”  

The glass in Satan’s hand cracked, and everyone in the room was filled with regret – regretted inviting anyone, regretted showing up – everyone except for Asmo and Raphael, that is.

Mephistopheles

“Who invited him?” Lucifer sighed from his seat beside Diavolo. Lucifer had been invited to a party by one of his and Diavolo’s mutual acquaintances. He wasn’t going to go, but Diavolo (and by consequence, Barbatos) begged him. It was one of those parties that had an especially elegant dress code, and Diavolo loved an excuse to see Lucifer all dolled up. He caved on the condition that he could bring you as his plus one. Diavolo was thrilled to get to see both of you dressed up. You turned in your seat to see whom Lucifer meant by "him."

None of you expected to see Mephisto walk into that party.

“He has friends in high places, despite his. . .” Barbatos paused to find the appropriate words.

“Personality?” Lucifer offered.

“Don’t be rude, Lucifer.” Diavolo scolded him.

It was as if Mephisto had a magical sense for finding Diavolo in a room because he was headed your way – the sound of his heels clacking on the cold marble floors highlighted his approach. It was like the Jaws theme song: signaling the impending attack.

You couldn’t quite keep your eyes off him. You’d never seen Mephisto in formal wear like this. He donned an all-white suit with gold accents and a magenta tie. It was surprising to see that he had a second pair of white heels to wear. He was so pretty – had he always been this pretty?

“Lord Diavolo,” Mephisto exclaimed, “it’s wonderful to see you. Your elegance is putting everyone here to shame. I see you brought Barbatos.”

“Good to see you, Mephisto.” Diavolo smiled at him.

“And the human is here, too,” he looked down at you. “You clean up better than I expected, MC. Interesting choice of attack dog, though.”

Lucifer was about to retort him, but you spoke before he had the opportunity, “damn, baby girl, you look gorgeous.”

“Excuse me?” Mephisto placed a hand over his heart in shock, before clearing his throat and readjusting his tie. The other three watched on in confusion and a tinge of jealousy that you hadn’t been ogling them like that.

“You look hot – just saying,” you shrugged at him with a smirk. He was visibly flustered.

“Lucifer, control your human!”

“Not my job. I’m an attack dog, aren’t I?” Lucifer tilted his head slightly, savoring Mephisto’s frustration.

Mephisto let out an exasperated sigh and grabbed your hand, pulling you up from your seat, “pardon me, Lord Diavolo, Barbatos. I clearly need to take MC’s manners into my own hands.”

“Uhm,” you stared back at the other three demons as Mephistopheles dragged you away. You stifled a laugh and waved goodbye to them.  

“Should we do something, my Lord?” Barbatos asked.

“He’s harmless,” Diavolo chuckled, “MC can handle themselves.”

“That man gives me a headache,” Lucifer sighed. He knew if you needed him, you’d call him; although he still wasn’t happy to let another demon take you away.

Mephisto dragged you into a dimly lit room where a number of couples were slow-dancing to smooth electronic music. Bubbles gently floated down from the ceiling. Mephisto pulled you flush against him, his hand on the small of your back, and stared into your eyes. It was hard to read his face, but he didn’t look angry.

“You shouldn’t go around teasing demons, you know?” Mephisto’s hand slid down to your hip, feeling you sway with the music. “Did your dog not teach you that?”

“But you really are beautiful,” you smiled. Even in the dark, you could see his eyes soften.

“Nevertheless,” he inched his face closer to yours, “you might end up in trouble if you compliment someone like me.”

“How so?”

Mephisto whispered into your ear – so close that his lips nearly grazed your skin, “you might end up going home with a different demon than you came here with.”

Thirteen

Thirteen had been keeping her eye on you since the beginning of class. You had kept your head down throughout the entire lecture, and you seemed to be writing slower and just staring at your notes today – and with good cause. Between a few nights of poor sleep and the brothers’ constant bickering that they had made a point to drag you into this morning, the headache pounding at the side of your skull in unpredictable intervals had you wishing you were laying down in your bed in complete darkness – not struggling to focus on your professor’s analysis of the proliferation of anti-Celestial Realm rhetoric in Devildom literature in the post-war era.

After the class was dismissed and the professor rushed to their next class, the other students began to filter out. You refused to get up, instead, burying your eyes in your hands to block out the harsh classroom lighting – although even a single flickering candle would have stung at that point. Mammon, Leviathan, and Asmodeus stuck around, too, deciding to resume their argument from this morning. You tried to filter it out, catching a brief evolution of insults: “absolute moron,” “makes sense you’d have a snake tongue because you have no taste,” “I didn’t know giving so much head meant your own head was void of thoughts.”

Ignoring the argument, Thirteen walked over to you, squatting down so she could look up at your face. She placed a hand on your arm, “are you unwell, MC?”

Her voice was gentle and cut through the noise. You dropped your hands to force a smile for her, “I’m alright, baby girl – just a headache.”

Heat rose to Thirteen’s face. Even if you were forcing it, that smile stalled her heart. She couldn’t stop staring at you. Just then, the sound of a chair sliding out and falling to the floor interrupted Thirteen’s admiration.

“Say that again, I dare ya!” Mammon yelled.

“Ugh! MC, control Mammon. He’s being totally unreasonable,” Asmo whined.

Thirteen shot up and glared at them briefly before returning her gaze to you. That glare melted, becoming instantly soft. She sighed, “let’s get you out of here.”

Thirteen helped you out of your seat before ushering you to the door. With you safely in the hallway, she pulled out one of her traps and set it off in the classroom. You could hear all three of the demons yelling and coughing as Thirteen led you down the hallway. You both crossed paths with Lucifer as he rushed, angrily, towards the noise. Thirteen stopped him, “Lucifer, you better control your damn brothers. Those obnoxious idiots are giving MC a headache. I’m taking them somewhere dark and quite.”

“Really?” Lucifer sighed and turned to you, caressing your head carefully, “I’m sorry, MC. I’ll deal with them properly. For now, go with Thirteen.”

You allowed Thirteen to keep pulling you deeper into the halls of RAD, focusing on the warmth of her hand in yours to distract from the throbbing. You kept your eyes shut as you walked and trusted that she wouldn’t let you fall or walk into anything, and she didn’t.

“This will do,” she squeezed your hand. When you opened your eyes, you were in one of RAD’s common rooms. It was much darker in there, and there was no one else around. You couldn’t even hear anyone off in the distance. Thirteen smoothed your hair down and rubbed your shoulder, “take a seat, MC.”

“Thank you,” you sat down on a large lounge chair. Thirteen extinguished a few more of the sconces on the wall before she returned to you.

“About earlier, why’d you call me that?”

“Call you what?” You shifted so that you were facing her.

“‘Baby girl.’”

“I guess it was because you looked so worried, and you sounded so gentle. You were being so nice to me,” you admitted.

“Oh?” Thirteen smirked and sank down to her knees so she could look up at you again. This time, the concern in her eyes was clouded over. She caressed your thigh, “I could be a lot nicer, if you want me to.”

(dateables version) | (demon brothers version)

[owlight]

My request: Zoro, Luffy and Law reacting at gender neutral reader giving up their marine job to join them.

Thanks for requesting ,I love this sm I think we should have a marine join the strawhats,also sorry Luffy one is so long I love him,also just headcanons for this

Tags: Fluff ngl ,is mostly paltonic relationships with them!

Luffy ,Zoro,Law reacting to A GN!marine leaving Thier marine job to join their crew

Luffy

let's be honest he probably asked you to join him and you were 'damn why not' and decided to give up your Marine officer position and join him

strawhats propaganda be working so good ig??

- He is actually surprised but happy you Left the marine to join him

if crew says no ,he will be" ): plz guys they are so cool! They almost kicked Zoro ass In the fight earlier " and zoro will be like ''they DID NOT "

he is so goofy ,he will accept you joining with open arms , welcome to the crew

you will be the new member who will die from heart attack everytime luff pull the crew and jump from a high building, welcome to the team

-you will most likely get along the most with Franky because he will the most understandable of you begin a former enemy (a marine) since he kinda also was that himself

also robin was bit suspicious of you at first but she warmed up to you quickly since she low-key trust Luffy judgement (she shouldn't)

good luck getting rid of Luffy ,he will up your face everyday till he eventfully get used of you begin around the ship

if you joined cuz you're in love with him, good luck with making him realize that ,he is as bright as a rock when it come to these things and will take a long while for him to return those feelings

Everyone respect your gender neutral identity,Luffy a bit confused about it but he really Be trying his best

" HE/SHE GO BY THEY/THEM PRONOUNCE !!! don't disrespect them!!!!"

he is very supportive dw he will get the jest of it soon enough by nami beating his ass into remembering it correctly

you either going to join the no braincells team (Zoro,Luffy, Chopper) ,or the almost functional braincells team (Sanji , Usopp,Franky) , or the braincells (Jinbe,nami,robin) ,pick wisely it will effect your future with the crew and the adventures

10/10 best decision you made of your life

Zoro

You have to ask Luffy first and since Luffy have 1 braincell and he agreed quickly, Zoro was okay with you joining even though you were a former marine ,the more the merrier (?)

Will be very skeptical about you leaving for him(?) Why would you? He won't question it to you in your face ,but he is wondering often about your reasoning

joined cuz you like him? He is low-key flustered by that and he will not show it,he will eat his left leg before showing that he is flustered by that

joined cuz he inspired you and you find him awesome and so strong and inspiring and want to be like him? You're his new best friend ig ,he need validation, thank you giving him some

new sparing buddy which is him kicking your ass the whole sparing match and only begin apologetic cuz chopper is scolding him as he bandage you up ,but you don't care ,you look at Zoro with admiration anyway ,and that make Zoro heart soften a bit

you end up spending lot with time with him ,ya even convinced him to shower after every training session he have as you both talk while vibing fr ( everyone on the crew is so thankful for you)

you learn that he is secretly a very sweet guy ,which is not a surprise,the whole crew is very sweet,Zoro is really good at hiding it behind his tough personality

you both end up bonding over your passion for your dreams,his begin the greatest swordman and yours is begin the baddest bitch alive

He respects your gender identity fr ,he is like Luffy but more careful about it ngl

" good to know shitty swirly eyebrows won't bother you then" Sanji would give him a mean look " (y/n) still beautiful and I'm not bothering any-NAMI SWAAAAN YOU LOOK SO BEAUTIFUL" smmmh

He is like a good companion,you try to make him not get lost,but end up getting lost together because he is too prideful to follow your direction (you were right about going left)

he find your present comforting and he like taking naps with you sitting next to him, keeping an eye out for him

two pretty best friends ( maybe more..?)

Law

impressed,Almost was going to tell you no out of pettiness but ehhhh you fought him well and actually managed to not be shambled into pieces (and You are kinda cute he had to agree with Shachi and penguin)

if you joined because you just want to join him in his journey and admire him,cool he don't mind ,the more the merrier

if you joined him because it's some love in first sight kind of reasons, he would be cool ,as long you respect his captain authority he doesn't care (on the insides he is a flustered mess)

he agreed,why not more helping hands in the crew ,good luck with the cleaning duty for the first month cuz he want to test your limits

you had no limits cuz you cleaned everything the first two hours and kinda went on to vibe with the crew, impressive but he grumpy cuz he was hoping to make you feel like the hard tasks

doesn't mind you Begin GN ,he have a mink as a right hand,the world have giant people live in,not even surprised by it ,he kinda even like it some of his crew already express themselves that way so good for you,you won't feel so out of place in this crew

he is a good captain and a very good friend you will learn that from interacting with the crew,he is very responsible and very understanding

if you fail a task , he would in fact guide you through it to how to be successful at it,he might be a past warlord and The surgeon of death,but he quite the good captain

he would like to spar with you from time to time cuz you're kinda nice to to look at but he won't admit that's the actual reason

he is like a cat,he slow blinks at you and he hope you understand he is begin affectionate with you ,you either get it and be happy about it or you wonder why tf is your captain blinking in Morse code 'you need frogs' so much

the crew is betting on when you both will end up realizing you like each others , hopefully soon

Unfortunately it will take literally 2 years of slow burn,two almost death experience to have law kinda realizing that,unlike you ,you kinda realized that after seeing him shirtless once

M sick again 🫶 went to ER nd they said I was too dehydrated ,smh,,, hopefully this post good for now

[calqlate]

RE: LOVE & LIFE | TWO

— YOUR SAVIOUR, YOUR SOULMATE, THE MAN ACCENTED IN GOLD

SERIES MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

PAIRING(S): zhongli x f! reader + diluc x f! wife! reader

SUMMARY: As the wife of the famous big shot in the wine industry, you have everything you could ever ask for — a beautiful mansion, endless wealth, servants at your beck and call... However, you lack the one thing you yearn for: love. With your beloved husband neglecting you and being stuck in a loveless marriage, you decide to end it all, only to be stopped by a man whom you have never met before, and who also coincidentally happens to be your soulmate. In addition, there just might seem to be more than what meets the eye in regards to your peculiar soulmate, and you just might have to find that out for yourself.

TAGLIST: @crescentmoonnn + @deeomi + @esthelily + @loving-august + @mshope16 + @needsleep3000 + @nerdiel-has-no-braincells + @saintbernardthethird + @thelonelyarchon

A/N: writer's block is a pain in the butt, hence the wait. it's also partially due to school because i've been real tired lately from preparing for a concert (just finished it earlier this week!) and had a bunch of different injuries as well :") n e ways, enjoy! :D

To say you were surprised was an understatement.

You had nearly fallen straight to your death (even though it was completely accidental) and were now in the embrace of a complete stranger whom you have never met before. Your face was inches away from your saviour's, an intimate proximity you have never shared with anyone before, not even your own husband. With the backdrop of the glittery sky and neon city lights in the background, anyone could have easily mistaken this as a scene straight out of a soap opera.

"Archons, I'm so sorry!" you pushed the man's chest and scrambled to your feet, your cheeks painted vermillion in embarrassment.

The man dusted his pants off and wiped his eyes before standing up. Now that he stood to his full height, he was pretty much towering over you. Your eyes darted up to find his face and was met by the gaze of his golden eyes, though slightly red-rimmed from his earlier emotional outburst. As you examined his face, you realised he had quite the handsome countenance: dark eyebrows set above his sharp amber eyes, a V-shaped jaw, a high nosebridge, and dark hair juxtaposed against skin so fair it could rival the petals of a Glaze Lilly.

"It's quite alright," he said, his voice deep and silky, reminding you of the richest Fontainian chocolate you had ever tasted, "I'm glad to see that you are unscathed."

"I'm terribly sorry you had to see that," you laughed awkwardly as you averted your gaze, rubbing your hands together nervously. Somehow, this man made you feel self-conscious of yourself, and you did not know why.

"There's no need to fret," he said, though his voice was now thick with an emotion you could not really place your finger on, "I consider myself fortunate for having saved a beautiful soul like yours from an early demise."

You looked up at him with a raised eyebrow and he chuckled, "Apologies, that was rather forward of me."

There was a little pause, as if the man was figuring out what he should say next. Before you could give an input of your own (and spare him from torture), he spoke, "I believe we have not met before."

"That's right," you nodded, and you stuck your hand out for a handshake, "I'm [F/N] Ragnvindr, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Ragnvindr," your husband's last name rolled off the man's tongue fluidly as if it were his own native tongue as a look of recollection settled in his eyes, then he stuck his own hand out to return your handshake, "By any chance, are you associated with Mr. Diluc Ragnvindr?"

"That's right," you nodded, bittersweetness laced in your voice as you gave a tight smile, "He's my husband."

A knowing look flitted across the man's face, "I'm deeply honoured to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Ragnvindr."

He let go of your hand and you chuckled, "Are you not going to give me your name, at the very least?"

He returned your smile with one of his own, "Pardon my lack of etiquette. Well then, allow me to introduce myself. I'm Zhongli, and…" — he winced as he rolled his sleeve up, exposing his pale wrist and most importantly, his own soulmate timer, which had a string of zeros etched onto his skin — "It seems that I am your soulmate."

You woke up the subsequent morning with less sleep than you had hoped for, along with dark circles below your eyes. Besides, how was anyone supposed to sleep properly after having found your soulmate after getting married?

A part of you was not disappointed: you loved Diluc dearly and he was the man you had wanted to marry ever since you were a child. However, now that fate had thrusted your soulmate into your life ever so abruptly, another part of you wondered if there was another parallel timeline whereby you had met Zhongli earlier and married him instead. Would you have been happier with him instead? Would you have been in a marriage where life was less heart-wrenching, one where your husband cared for you a little more?

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, and your disheveled reflection stared back with weariness in her eyes.

You closed your eyes. For some reason, you could picture yourself next to Zhongli, arms hooked together and strolling in a garden filled with flowers. A warm, reassuring feeling flooded your chest at this image, and it somehow felt right with you, as if it were the most natural thing to do in the world.

You snapped your eyes open and shook your head, What am I even thinking? I'm a married woman, and Zhongli is a respectable gentleman!

You sighed as you tugged at your shawl which was wrapped around you, There are no "what if"s. There is only the present.

And at present, there was a meeting for you to head to.

Seeing Zhongli standing next to Ajax was not what you thought could even occur as you headed to the hotel lobby.

Am I hallucinating right now? You squeezed your eyes shut and willed yourself to wake up. Perhaps you had fallen asleep by accident while in the bathroom and that your morning routine and everything that happened afterwards was simply a dream.

You opened your eyes and still saw Ajax and Zhongli standing a few feet away, comfortably conversing with one another, as though they were friends.

Sensing your presence, both men turned their heads towards you. Ajax visibly brightened and waved you over, gesturing you to join them and take part in whatever conversation they were having.

You slapped a businesslike smile on your face as you approached the pair, looking back and forth between the two men.

"I believe the both of you haven't met each other before," Ajax said with a grin, "This is—"

"You don't have to do the introductions, Mr. Tartaglia," Zhongli shook his head, "The lady and I have already made acquaintances with one another last night."

"Last night?" Ajax's eyebrows rose.

"I merely helped Mrs. Ragnvindr out and prevented an accident," Zhongli explained, "It's nothing you should be worried about."

Ajax hummed and let the matter slide, then turned to you, "Well, I was thinking that the three of us could go for brunch together."

You raised your eyebrows. Brunch with your business associate and your soulmate? That itself was two different genres thrown into the mix.

Zhongli's gaze was focused on you, "Mrs. Ragnvindr seems uncomfortable with the idea. Let me join you another day for a meal, Mr. Tartaglia."

"No, no! It's alright, really," you waved your hands in front of you to prove otherwise, "I must apologise if my expression implied otherwise."

A small smile settled on Zhongli's face as Ajax brightened, "Great! I know this really good place!"

You sighed. Seeing Ajax in a cheery mood after both of his acquaintances (honestly, could you be considered as such?) agreed to share a meal together, as well as Zhongli looking at you with such a serene expression, you found it hard for you to back out now.

"I'll take your word for it," you returned their grins with one of your own, "Well now, where's this place you've mentioned?"

[tachimichishrine]

"high school"

⫭◦⨝◦⫬

doa + hunting dogs {high school AU! hcs}

warnings: none!! just keep in mind this isn't an xreader!!

decay of angels

nikolai is, without question, the class clown, and head of the drama club

the teachers HATE him

he asks waaaaaay too many questions, and all the time, too

and they're so random???

they'll be in the middle of a test and he'll ask the teacher "how's your marriage doing right now? how's your partner, are they doing well?"

lowkey gets kicked out of the class daily

now spends most of his time playing cards with the secretary in the office

bram sometimes gets sent there as well, just because he's in the mood to take a nap

however, he doesn't really say that, he'll make up some kind of excuse like "oh it's my medical condition, I have limited energy" because he's paraplegic, even if it's bs

he's also that one edgy kid who sits in the back of the class discussing the end of the world

he??speak??so??oddly??

"death cometh for thou," like dude okay no need to talk like that???

the only person who actually understands what he says is fyodor, the reigning chess champ in the school

he's also very tired all the time, but he doesn't sleep, he'll just answer a few questions here and there if he's forced to, just to shut up the teacher

does the absolute bare minimum effort to pass class because he thinks it's all useless

"you have great potential, and I'm sure you understand all the material, fyodor, so with just a bit of effort-"

"thank you for the advice."

gets up and leaves 💀

fukuchi is the gym teacher that yells all the time and tells students to do pushups just because he feels like their face is mocking him

everyone either loves his class or dreads it

nikolai is fine, he's not all that athletic but he can run pretty decently and, worst case scenario, he just needs to bug the teacher and get sent to the office again to complete his game of poker with the secretary

fyodor hates gym class

with a burning passion

I CAN'T EVEN ENVISION HIS STICK-LEGS RUNNING PROPERLY SKJGKSJFG

hides under any large object and waits it out

bram is in a wheelchair so he just smugly looks at coach like "haha sucker!", only to be given dumbbells and told to do upper body workouts

now, fyodor and bram are hide-from-gym-class buddies

sigma is in preschool

yk since he's like 3 years old-

CHUBBY CHEEKS

he's so precious unlike all the other toddlers, but he does cry a lot

A LOT

LIKE WAY TOO MUCH

"sigma, you have to share your blocks with our friends, okay?"

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"

the caretakers still love him tho

BABY SIGMA BABY SIGMA BABY SIGMA BABY SIGMA

hunting dogs

jouno and tecchou are the upperclassmen, which is surprising given how many braincells they share between them

jouno is hands down the pretty popular jock on campus and all the girls FALL TO THEIR KNEES

he does get in trouble every once in a while for bullying people or threatening them, but he has practically seduced the principal at this point, so it's no biggie

tecchou is that one kid who raises their hand in class and gets everything wrong

he's great in gym class, though, seeing as he likes to work out in his spare time

some girls try to approach him while he's doing his own thing and staring at the ground but he's like "wait."

"...wait? for what?"

"the ants"

"...the ants???"

"you were about to step on them."

girls have now stopped trying to approach him

tachihara is the Bad Boy™ with Family Issues™ and Inferiority Complex™

he gets in trouble A LOT

unlike Nikolai, it isn't for harmless questions or disturbing the class, it's for beating up someone else and egging someone's locker and placing a pin on the teacher's chair and-

needless to say, the teachers hate him with a burning passion

he's taking teruko as his apprentice in chaos, given she'd be around two year younger than him

she doesn't get in trouble bc (assuming this is a different school and everything) the gym coach fukuchi defends her in front of the school staff ALL THE TIME since she's his favorite student

she's surprisingly good at most subjects, except...

m a t h 

she screams and throws a full-on tantrum by tossing her math book outside the window then setting it on fire because this girl CANNOT survive variables and constants and graphs and parabolas

fly high, math notebook 😞✊🕊

[venusandsaturnsrings]

VENUS I have soooo many ideas for taru.... ranging from prisoner taru with warden darling cause yk he's in prison rn to icky angel taru who has nasty thoughts about the human hes supposed to be keep safe<33 -chubby darling anon who's brain's so rotted it's seeping out

this hit me in my pussy!! blinking wide eyed at u prisoner taru… my single braincell is rolling around like a marble i hope u kno how genius this is… i am KISSING YOU!! taking some creative liberties with the prison design since idk what it’ll actually look like… utc since i got a bit carried away soz T^T

includes: afab gn reader, prisoner taru, guard reader, a good handy, and whiny taru!!

you found the early morning rounds to be the least enjoyable portion of your day. the prisons was created out of a series of circles with intricate arching hallways to connect them. architecturally, it was to make the layout confusing for any prisoners looking to escape should they not have a map. equipped with an irritating amount of locked doors and special keypads, no one who wasn’t supposed to leave would be able to. enter the eleventh harbinger Tartaglia.

all of the other guards and employees hated his presence thus Wriothsley burdened you with tending to him twenty-four seven. initially, you had cringed knowing his reputation but… being his watch dog constantly meant less work navigating the building so ultimately, you were game. bring him three meals a day, tend to nay wounds, and keep one eye on him at all times; an easy job for you. when you first met no words had been exchanged beyond your vague introduction to the food he was receiving. you got a sharp nod in response but his furrowed brows and slight pout indicated that he wasn’t pleased, you assumed he was likely used to more elegant dishes, but this is prison. he gets what he gets. Tartaglia slowly began to warm up to you, his slight chatter coming through the bars that separated you from him; it was more like a grate considering there was both horizontal and vertical metal. you had eventually insisted on bringing one of the prisons spare chairs over so you could sit while he talked your ears off and Wriothsley quickly conceded, just happy to know he wasn’t causing you any real problems. it wasn’t like you could do much else other than entertain since there was a door between the chamber and the rest of the jail; this particular cell was saved for high risk offenders which any harbinger more than qualified for.

after some time of swapping stories and bandaging the occasional scratch he obtained from punching the walls in frustration, the two of you were rather well acquainted. Tartaglia told you all about his family, most exciting missions, and even slivers of his life prior to joining the Fatui. you shared tales of your friends, favourite hobbies, and the best spots in Fontaine for spending sunsets; nothing too personal as you were more than aware of his conniving nature and couldn’t fathom metaphorically putting the bullet in the chamber for him. he never complained about your reservations, though, merely enjoying a voice responding. Tartaglia is lonely, you figured. lonely with his psyche rotting away in this prison cell as he awaited appealing the charges wrought against him. it was one evening that you made perhaps the largest mistake of your life.

diner had been served and he groaned about having mashed potatoes for the nth day in a row. you had shrugged in response as you couldn’t control the meals given out. he ate reluctantly, shifting endlessly on the chair bolted to the ground. his eyes flicked back and forth between you and the fixtures of his cell in a way that made nervousness settle in your gut. once his dishes had been taken away and you returned, the flush across his face was beyond noticeable and, to your chagrin, you had looked him over just long enough to notice the member twitching through the fabric of his administered pants. he eyed you, slowly coming to narrow in on the apex of your inner thighs. with a slight shift, he let out a pathetic and garbled groan, face tightening further.

“i… i’m a tad sorry it’s just… it’s just been so long since i’ve had the time to relieve myself… can’t help it i’m… i need something. you can turn away but please i’ve gotta…”

the look he gave you between glances at your chest, face, and clothed pussy said more than his words could. he carried on.

“yer’ just so pretty n i can see everything… makes me wanna touch myself n you so so bad n i just need to… hurts a bit, honestly.”

his laugh was sour when he trailed off. you gulped, mouth suddenly dry and almost imperceptibly rubbed your thighs together but, of course, Tartaglia noticed. his hips raised and head lolled slightly to the side.

“ya want it too, huh? i could… i could get real close to the bars… put myself through n you… can touch if if ya want… can finish me off.”

against your most base inhibitions, you nodded hesitantly and he sighed, rising from the bed. as he approached you noticed just how tall he is for the first time. at least six foot two and with arms flexing as he shimmied the pants down before pushing himself against the grate, he was nothing short of a man who could kill you if the bars didn’t exist. yet, Tartaglias member was pulsing with need. twitching and leaking from the tip, his hips involuntarily moved for a couple thrusts against the cold metal and he whined. your hand reached out and hesitantly gripped him while a moan already spilled past his lips. you stroked him soft and slowly as he pressed his forehead to the bars and gripped them between his hands. settling into an even pace, you fisted his cock with vigour he clearly loved if the groans and soft begs for more meant anything.

“so close… fuck… gonna… in your hand…”

his breaths were laboured and you threw caution to the wind, leaning down just enough to slide his tip into your mouth. he twitched against you and let out a guttural noise as he came into your awaiting mouth and down your throat. you swallowed quickly and upon standing straight up again, you caught him slack jawed and wide eyed staring at you. you spoke before he could.

“i uh… didn’t want to have to clean it up…”

[grismavessel]

You know what, it's father's day (pretends like I'm not a whole day late), why not some dad! Ingo and Gris ramblings because I said so!

Ingo

Soccer dad basically. Has snacks hidden in his coat and has a time table of all the things his kids need to be at, where and when and with who. Being on time is being ten minutes early and proper nutrition is the utmost priority for healthy minds!

Overprotective, just a tad. A scrape or bruise? He's in tears as he applies one of everything the first aid kit has to offer. A rude child is bullying them, Ingo places a lifetime ban on the kid's family from the subway lines. (lawful evil)

Chef dad! Teaches them how to make pancakes and basic easy meals for when they wanna make a snack. Unfortunately, they have Gris's awful cooking talent so it's a 50/50 chance their cooking attends end up good or bad.

Gris

Spare the rod, spoil the kid type dad. The kids want a little bit of ice cream before dinner? Done. Ten more minutes to play before they go to bed? Done. Sneaking them pokeballs before their ten to catch and train pokemon? Done and Done! (Ingo slightly encouraged the last part)

Overprotective, but in a fight another parent type way. Some brat's being mean to their kids? That kid's up in a tree now like a scared cat. A karen mom is hogging the playground? Hope she likes a keyed mini van. Will commit arson in the name of their kids. (totally not a bad influence at all.) (chaotic good)

Street smart dad. Teach the kids how to hop fences just in case they need to run from a pokemon or something. Teaches them competitive strategies to make them the overlordes of the local pokemon battles. Teaching them the ways of team skull that were actually beneficial and none of the law breaking ones mostly >:)

Stylish Dad. Pulling up to the parent teacher conferences in the most punk spikes and studs and liberty spikes.

Together

Those lovey dovey parents you see in movies where they'll kiss and their kids get grossed out because ew they're in love yuck

Very responsible! Despite each other's messes and flaws together they make a good team. Ingo is slightly strict and a little straight arrow, Gris is more relaxed and bends the rules a bit. Gris knows priorities but doesn't know the best execution but Ingo knows how to organize best. Two wacky braincells working together to be a high function single brain cell!

Very caring and unconditionally loving. Gris had a hard time growing up and Ingo didn't fit in quite either due to his mannerisms so they know the struggles of a kid who's a little different than the rest. They know when to give space and when the kids need attention, and how to make them feel wanted and loved.

Bonus: Uncle Emmet and Aunty Elesa

Emmet heavily encourages the kids pursuit in pokemon train and handle and also reinforces the idea of 'fuck around and find out' mentality when it comes to rule following and ruler breakers.

Elesa spoils the kids like no other. #1 gift giver for Christmas and birthdays. They're getting the newest model trains, the best shoes, they most favorite and expensive snacks! Ingo and Gris can't keep up but if it saves them a little bit of money?

Emmet will inpersinate Ingo when needed. The kids accidental got detention, Emmet calls them out of school to avoid it. They need a forged signature, Emmet's on the job. Need to go watch an R-Rated movie? Hell no Emmet's taking them to the newest pg thomas the train movie isntead.

Elesa babysits with the help of Skyla and it's a total spa day.

Emmet babysits and the kids run a battle tournament in their living for the whole neighborhood.

Bonus bonus:

Imagine it's bring-your-parents-to-school-day and the twins bring in the son of Alola's toughest formerly evil organization who's armored up in a battle jacket and platform docs and also one half of the formidable subway bosses that dresses like an office worker but will mop the floor with you if need be.

[susandsnell]

Oh my god, did you see the HSM demonises femininity video. The author sayd that because Sharpay is the villain and she wears pink and is girly, this is clearly demonising girliness. And all the comments were whining about how oppressed they were for liking Sharpay (I promise they weren't, I was 9 when HSM came out, Sharpay was EVERYONE'S favourite.

The author also rebutted my comment that Gabriella and Taylor are also girly af by saying they don't wear pink (they do, and Sharpay doesn't only wear pink either) and that Taylor isnt as girly because she I WISH I WAS MAKING THIS UP wears a lot of headbands. Never mind Monique Colman had to wear those because the hair dep, didn't know how to style black hair and just gave her shit wigs.

And i like Sharpay, she's a fun character. But she's not the villain because she's feminine. She's the villain because she's a bully (Kelsi) , Stalker (Troy) and sabotaged in every film, including to her own brother.

Sorry for the rant this has been making me angry for years

As it happens, I'm trying to put a moratorium on watching video essays I know will only aggravate me, especially the spate of several about ~demonizing femininity~ after a certain one about the non-issue of "nlog" in period pieces melted what braincells 2023 has spared as I spent my finite minutes on this earth watching a woman I'm pretty sure would've called me slurs in high school shriek barely-disguised reactionary garbage for forty minutes or so over the existence of masculine presentation because the consequence of a decade of ~choice feminism~ is women who think the central struggle for gender equality is no one being allowed to criticize their fantasies unquestioning adherence to gender expectations but couch it in progressive lingo. See: the morons who threw a tantrum over Rachel Zegler saying Snow White's story evolves beyond being rescued by a prince because women's narratives were limited in the 30s compared to now (a completely anodyne and accurate statement that created a harrasment campaign horseshoe between racist alt-right chuds and liberal feminists because god forbid you question the potent feminism of their dollies). See also: the pathetic whining about a lack of heterosexual romance or an extremely conventionally feminine, thin and usually white female character wearing pants. However, I fully welcome the opportunity to rant about it lol, because I feel very strongly that "unapologetic femininity" is one of the biggest jokes/psyops/reactionary disguised as progressive movements so long as it refers to people of whom society demands femininity as a performance (chiefly, cis women - there are actually people discouraged/disallowed by cisheteronormative patriarchal society from being feminine, and for whom that phrase actually means something lol). I constantly say this as a super feminine queer woman (literally, my room and most of my clothes are pink, frilly, and floral): femininity is derided, but it is also imposed.

I was never that into High School Musical even as a kid, but the fact that a conventionally feminine character is treated by 'masculine' by these dummies because she isn't hyperfeminine is utterly unsurprising. 'NLOG' as a whole might have started as a critique of female characters who fit a certain male fantasy of internalizing misogyny and catering to certain ideals of being low-maintenance, but at this point as I've previously said, it's being used in place of homophobic slurs for girls and women, both real and fictional, who aren't hyperfeminine, who don't prioritize male attention, or who simply, for one reason or another, feel alienated from 'proper' girlhood/womanhood. The 'mean girl' bully stereotype exists, be it in HSM, Heathers, Mean Girls, or what have you, for a reason. Bullying frequently occurs along the lines of failing at performing your assigned gender 'correctly'. Just as male bullies in media frequently pick their targets due to perceived failures of masculinity, perceived failures of femininity are an extremely common justification for social ostracism and punishment, because that's how gender conformity is socially enforced. This overlaps with these ideals being based in concepts of class, race, and homophobia/transphobia etc, which are simply other facets of the hierarchy. The "demonized femininity" boogeyman we've seen discussed in the last few years genuinely feels like a conservative psyop of some kind if I didn't see so many people otherwise fall for it hook, line, and sinker, because the presupposition that gender nonconformity is rewarded - particularly in the wake of the recent spate of extreme transphobic and homophobic backlash - is laughable.

[shmowder]

How are those so accurate? I love the image of Rubin and Artemy with a kitten, aww 🥹 And your Khan observation and theory, lol. You're so right about Alexander Saburov and Mark, too.

So I don't actually know very much about cats; as a cat person with allergies, I'd be joining Yulia in the pspspspsing at strays. Nevertheless, here are some vibes I'm getting.

Capella would have a Ragdoll cat for sure, with a ribbon for a collar. If Big Vlad were to ever have a cat, just google Cat that Looks like a Coal Baron, that's his. I can see Taya with a Himalayan, but it's also fun to picture her with a huge Maine Coon that's practically bigger than she is. Aglaya - some kind of tabby cat. Grief is also allergic to cats; I have no idea where I'm getting this but I feel it in my bones.

Who is particularly fond of orange cats? Somebody must be! My instinct is to say Yulia, actually. Or Artemy.

"The Kains do already have pets, the human kind. Aka the Stamatins." lmao this startled a laugh out of me.

🐿️ anon

YOU ARE SO RIGHT WITH ALL OF THIS

omfg Capella having an adorable ragdoll cat is so fitting. She dresses it in tidy bows and ruffles, it's the most polite cat ever. Very elegant looking and well behaved, it's one of the few cats Khan actually loves. Her cat and Notkin's jester surpsingly get along and have playdates in Capella's room. Or well the cat's room, let's be real, Capella probably has a whole room dedicated to her spoiled cat with a cat tree, a luxurious bed and everything.

Big Vlad also has a cat, but it follows him around instead and only sleeps on his lap. Literally that meme of the parent who didn't want a pet vs them chilling with the pet afterwards

Is this the cat you mentioned that looked like him?

I see it, I do. He probably does have a long hair cat.

You're so correct about Bad Grief being allergic to cats, I feel it in my bones too. That's probably why his lair is in different warehouse district than the souls and halves, He keept sneezing otherwise and just moved bases.

What's worse, cat's absolutely adore him. They enjoy rubbing their fur against his legs, he's like catnip for them for some reason and they purr and keep trying to climb up his legs.

It's also funny to imagine him having to deal with cat lovers Artemy and Rubin as kids. Especially with Isidor caring for stray cats and how these two took care of the kittens after their mom didn't make it. Lara helping them and all these kids looking after the kittens everyday but Grief is having the worst month of his life, his eyes won't stop watering, nose won't stop running and he's breaking out in hives.

Grief doesn't visit his friends as adults, not because of a grudge or anything but because all three of them won't stop making their home a 5 stars hotel for stray cats and he can't take two steps inside without sneezing his lungs out.

Those are good candidates for orange cat owners, but hear me out. Listen Listen.

Aglaya is the person who owns THAT communical one-braincell orange cat. And the cat never gets its turn with the braincell ever.

The cat has zero survival instincts. It sleeps on the stove frequently, it runs away from bugs, and it lets a mouse steal its food. It gets stuck on furniture and high places all the time and meows loudly until someone helps it down before immediately climbing up and getting stuck again.

Was this whole post just an excuse for me to subject my readers to looking at these adorable cat pictures i found? Probably.

So Maria's cat is one of those majestic short haired sleek black cats. It's also the cat which traumatised/scratched Khan when he was a kid and now he holds a grudge against all cats bc of it.

It's unfriendly to anyone who's not Maria, it's a very well loved cat that demands respect and will bite and scratch if you touch its fur out of the blue. You must present your hand to be sniffed first and then the cat will decide if you're worthy enough

It has a shiny well maintained coat, Maria spares no expenses. The collar is made out of real gold and gems, she even commissioned a couple paintings of her cat to hang around her wing of the crucible.

[alvcrd]

———  basics! ♡

(PEN)NAME:  Luna

PRONOUNS:  She / Her

ZODIAC SIGNS:  Taurus

TAKEN OR SINGLE:  I'm aro/ace so single

TIME ZONE: EST

———  three  facts! ♡

I'm just a sleepy lil guy

I collect Hellsing stuff! It isn't much but I guess there's worse addictions

I ride horses and do art in my spare time!

———  experience ! ♡

I've been rping on this hellsite since 2012-ish, doing group rps (admittedly lots of very cringe ones). When one group I was in disbanded, I ended up getting into indie rp with my ocs from said group and realized I enjoyed the freedom of Indie rp much more. Didn't rp canon muses until somewere around 2019 when I began writing for the FFVII fandom, but then made Alucard on a whim mostly to do 1 X 1 rp but then realized I enjoyed writing him so much I made him my main blog. I mainly stick to Alucard but my other blogs are @hatredheld (Sephiroth), @ichorbled (Ardyn Lucis Caelum) and @ofimmortalis (Undertaker)

———  muse preference !  ♡

Skrunkly villain types, preferably with the saddest backstories imaginable. Honestly I just see what I vibe with or relate to, but my favorite sort of tropes are anything supernatural or gothic horror themed.

———  FLUFF / ANGST / SMUT! ♡    

FLUFF:  Cute, good stuff. I don't write it often but writing Alucard in helplessly fluffy scenes heal my broken ass heart.

ANGST:  LISTEN do you put your muses through trauma or are you normal.... I love the pain, I live for the pain- give it to me rn.

SMUT:  So I can't say I write this too often, maybe it's because I have low-libido muses but generally I prefer to smut only with mutuals I'm comfortable with but tbh it's not really a high priority on any of my blogs.

PLOT / MEMES: I like the concept of plotting but lbr.... I have a single braincell and I have the hardest time coming up with concepts! I like memes, they're a fun, easy way to get the ball rolling on interactions plus they kind of do the hard work for you. I can't tell you how many cool plots I've developed from memes!

tagged by: oops I stole this from @viciousbite

tagging: @lunarscaled @hhemeraa @blccdsucker @monstriiss @touhji honestly anyone just take it

[sometimesivisit]

something I wrote a while ago.

Melancolía.

Everyone says that “the eyes are the window to the soul”. But when muddy green eyes meet a cold, fog-covered January morning in a run down high school crushed into the middle of nowhere, there’s nothing but smoke and mirrors to behold.

People call me a coin. Two faced and flat. They ask me, “Victor, have you no empathy?” “Forman, have you no hope?” There is neither to be had when the clock ticking within the eternal jewel is set, like lemons inside a microwave: ready to explode. As Shakespeare wrote, “life is but a walking shadow”. There’s nothing at the very pit of it all, so what else is there to do but lie, cheat, and scheme? I have no friends for a reason; they say I play with them like a master would do to a puppet, that I should value them, and myself, more. That the reason I do this is because I don’t see the good in the world. “A poor player That struts and frets his hour upon the stage And then is heard no more”. I’ve rented the stage, mussed my hair and stained my teeth red with agony, and now I must exeunt.

I will get it back.

I will piece the jewel back together.

It’s impossible, I know. To leap over the hour of my death is as imaginative as finding a wishing well.

And I think I’ve found it.

The power. With my unsteady hands I can reach out and grab it. I can escape. I can prove them all wrong while simultaneously beating God.

And I won’t have to feel this anymore.

There is no one more annoying than someone dear to you. It may as well be scientifically proven. They know all your weak spots; your vulnerabilities and pressure points. They know exactly which limb to squeeze to have you writhing. They know exactly which hair to pull to give you a week-long migraine. It’s infuriating. But at the end of the day, you care so much for them that there is nothing you can do but endure.

I never thought I’d have that problem.

“You’re so stupid.”

“I’m working. Be quiet.”

“No, you’re having a kip. If you were working, you’d have your blueprints and textbook. I see not one of them. You’re just laying there enjoying yourself. Don’t lie.”

Her agitating, grating voice does nothing to help the headache forming. Sometimes I wish there was a way to strike fear in the thick, but it’s futile. All I can do is glare so maliciously at her that the room drops a few degrees. “I understand you have trouble with it, but look around. Could you spare me two- no, one measly braincell to comprehend that there is no way to do anything in here? In this white, fluorescent-lit, disgusting room? We’ve been here long enough that you should be able to comprehend. If you’d learn to get it through your neverending skull, you’d realize that there is nothing to do but think.

“And I despise that you’d even consider mentioning this!” I find myself tugging on the tubes they had dug into my arms. The nasal cannula they’d wrapped around my head is threatening to detach. “You- you ignorant- I hate you! You’re at peace! You’re resting! You’ve left me to suffer and figure this out on my own! All you want is to-” an angry bout of wheezing interrupts me. When I can manage a few breaths, I hiss, “Get out!”

“You stand there and accuse me, but why do you lay here and I do not?”

“Don’t,” I whisper. “Don’t. Not today. Not right now when I’m so close. I can make-” I lay back in the bed, shutting my eyes and fixing the cannula. “I can make it better. I know it’s possible.”

“You’re lying to yourself.”

“Leave me alone.”

“Fine.”

My body is itching. Every nerve is firing, trying to bring me back to my death by force. Neurons are firing behind my eyes and I can feel every follicle on my body. My skin is crawling, the nails of reality leaving burning marks on my arms as I slip further and further from her grip. I’m there. I’m almost there. I can taste my future, the future I believed had been buried alongside my empty grave a long time ago. Now, I’m realizing the metallic feel of the shovel is just my own rusting determination. I’m excavating my damn backbone and fulfilling my promise. I won’t let anything stop me.

Yes.

Finally.

The air, once stale and burning of bleach, is fresh and cool on my face. There’s the light scent of salt water coming from somewhere in the distance, but it’s almost completely masked by the smell of the trees and flowers around me. I’m not sure where I’ve landed, but I’m sure it’s in the middle of nowhere. Good, then. The less people that notice me, the better. Keeping contact to the minimal is best when in a situation such as mine.

My spine aches as I sit up, jostling the greenery beneath me. The dirt is moist; not so that the water seeps through my gown, but as if there was a light rainfall the night before. Looking up, the sun is directly overhead. I can’t hear any movement. Not even the footsteps of animals. In fact, I’m surprised I haven’t seen a squirrel, or at the very least, an ant. I feel rather stupid, sitting here staring like a newborn calf. There’s a strange fear in my mind, that if I move I may never find this peace again. My mind has become so still, so overwhelmed with accomplishment that I can’t seem to form a coherent thought beyond simple emotions and physical sensations. I’ve been thinking non stop since I’d been put into intensive care, figuring out how to make the impossible possible. Now, that has become a reality. And I never believed I’d get this far.

Now what?

I know I’ve made it to a place where I can cure my dying body. It’s guaranteed. What is not guaranteed is how far I have to go. How deep I must search to find it. Well, there is nothing I can do by simply sitting here.

I stand, my legs still shaky from lack of use, and I start. I walk for miles, or at least until the sun has become shadowed by the forest. The eerie silence of the woods has me looking over my shoulder every five paces. The view is gorgeous, however; oak trees rise, mimicking the skyscrapers that have been my only scenery for months, a crystal clear lake slides lazily onto moist dirt and then retreats, and the air is far cleaner than any nasal cannula can replicate.

“Hello.”

If I didn’t soil myself by coming here, I definitely did now. I don’t want to turn around. I know that voice like I know my own thoughts, my own skin, my own heart. I hear it day and night, in my sleep and while I’m awake. But of course it’s never real. It’s- she’s never been real. Maybe at one time or another, back when I could taste and smell and hear and feel and see. Back before I was trapped within four walls and one ceiling and six fluorescent lights and God I hate those lights. But I know them. I know the way they buzz, and when they need to be changed to keep buzzing. I know their glare behind my eyelids when I’m too drugged to follow my sleep schedule. I know them, and they are familiar. There is always comfort in the familiar, no matter how hard it is to say it.

And I am very familiar with her. Her voice, her eyes, her stupid condescending grin. Her ridiculous accent that I used to mimic because she hated it, but now she finds it endearing and I despise her adaptability. The uselessness of her words but I’ve never told her that I wish she was born mute, at least not with meaning. The electric touch of her palm on my sweaty forehead when all I could do was lay there and stare at the ceiling fan as it revolved in endless circles, endless pathetic bursts of endless heat pouring onto my blistering body.

I’ve always been sick.

Sick sick sick sick sick.

“Victor.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Please,” I still cannot turn around. “Please don’t. You’re not supposed to be here. You’re not supposed to be a part of it. Of all of it. I’m doing this so I can leave you behind, do you see? Leave you and- and your guilt and your anger and fear and every bull feeling you’ve left behind and I’m trying to give it back! Return it to you so I can move on! You think I’m as content as I’ll ever be, laying there in that bed rotting. You knew it was impossible and you yelled at me every damn day, saying ‘it’s not worth it, Victor, and you know it.’ Well, look! Look what I’ve done! I’ve made it, and you’re trying to ruin it, and I’ll die by my own hand before letting you take me, you hear? Tell me you’re listening!”

“It’s over.”

I’ve been yelling at a tree. It’s so much easier than facing her.

“You’re nothing more than extra skin. A reminder. Ugly. Useless. A burden.”

“It’s over.”

“Stop that.”

“We both know it.”

I whip around so hard the world shifts on its axis. “BUT IT DOESN’T HAVE TO BE! I can fix it all! Look how far I’ve come! LOOK! Open your goddamn eyes and SEE! Look at this tree! Look at the ground and the- the water and the grass and me! Look at me!

“Please look at me.”

I’ve always thought myself good at reading expressions, but no matter what I do, I can’t pull a single bearing from her face. There is not one wrinkle, not one twitch of a muscle to give what she feels away. It’s horrible. She’s staring almost through me, but at the same time she is taking me apart so diligently that I want to run to that crystal clear lake and let it absorb my decaying corpse within the ice cold wave of its embrace. But my feet have grown roots and become one with the dirt beneath them. I can’t move, I can’t breathe, and I can’t look away from her.

“Do you remember how many years it’s been? Since it happened?” her lips move, there is a voice, but I can’t pick up any sort of tone. It’s terrifying.

I swallow. My throat feels raw. “Three, as of tomorrow.”

She hummed and turned to the silent lake. I am finally able to pick up a trace of something: melancholy, as if she were remembering. “You’ve been sick since then. Everyone thinks you picked something up from the water.

“It’s not the water, is it? It was never the water.”

My chest has been growing tighter since she began talking.

“It was never the water.”

“So what was it?” she asks, turning back to me. “Or what is it? You’re still sick. Sick sick sick sick sick,” the air settles, falling stiff as she walks towards me. If there were birds in the trees, critters scuttering across our feet, they would not have moved. Her steps were so smooth, so non-existent, that she floated instead of walked. “Mum is overcome with sadness. She’s lost two for the price of one. And you’re not gone yet, but then… you are.

“And you can’t move on with that hole in your chest,” she pokes my sternum. “So now you’re here.

“Do you even know what ‘here’ is?

There’s no point in looking around, I’ve taken in all there is to see. But, of course, that’s not what she means. It was never this place that held the answer. It was what this place inhabited. Not the trees, not the lake, not the plants. It was this moment, this thing standing in front of me. The thing I used to know. I know her, I know this place, I know it all.

“And that’s why we’re still standing here, time at a standstill. You’ve created this figment to help you deal with the hatred you’re harboring in that caged beating muscle in your chest. You’re driven mad every day, every waking moment that you’re not up to your head in medication. You let yourself writhe in pain- and I say ‘let’ because this is your choice. It’s on your own free will, on your own conscience, that you’re here, fighting the inevitable. You’re punishing the disgust of yourself, all the tears and the guilt and the exhaustion. You’ve given voice to them through me, but it’s such a corrupted version that you can’t tell what’s reality. You think this is where it ends. This is where it begins, Victor. This is where we begin.

The sheer stupidity of it all comes crashing down on my shoulders. I want to cry, scream, punch her, rip my arms to shreds, run deeper into this illusion, and leave her behind, all at the same time.

“Forgiveness is on the horizon.”

“You’re going to forgive me?”

“No, you sod. You know exactly what I mean.”

This room is… not what I’m used to. It’s filled with auburns and deep summer colors, trinkets and posters and a strange chandelier that reflects so confusingly that I try to take it apart with my eyes when I grow bored. The windows stretch from floor to ceiling, coating the office in a golden glow. A red scaled cockatiel squawks every now and then from its perch by the desk; we watch each other diligently. Beside me, on the sofa, lies a Norwegian Forest Cat. It sleeps soundly, the tips of its fur brushing my hand. I have the urge to run my fingers through the orange, brown, and white coat, but I’ll refrain for now.

All these attributes connect right down to their master, Eve. I’ve already forgotten her last name, as she refuses to allow me to call her as such. Her olive green eyes and tan skin glow in the light of the sunset. Her dark brown hair curls in soft ringlets, placed messily into a claw clip at the back of her skull. Her circle-rimmed glasses sit naturally at the base of her button nose. Little to no makeup hides her freckles and the wrinkles forming at her smile lines and the corners of her eyes. She sits with an open expression, an ankle crossed to her opposite knee. Her leather notebook rests upon her thigh, her eyes fixed on me.

“I’m glad you’ve decided to make good on your promise, Victor,” her voice is light and hopeful. I was not exactly responsive when we made this appointment.

“I’m not so sure I’m glad, myself,” I pull my knee to my chest.

She hums and glances at my twitching fingers, itching to touch the resting feline next to me. “Her name is Melon. You can pet her, if you’d like, I can see she’s taken a liking to you. Do you have any pets at home?”

My eyes grow dim at the question. “I practically live in the hospital. I don’t have time to take care of an animal. That would be cruel.”

“I see,” she diverts the conversation. “Let’s get to the point, then. Why are you here?”

“Has my mother not told you?”

“She has,” Eve nods slowly. Her gaze meets mine again. “But I’d like to hear your reason.”

I look down at the cat. My hand moves, ever so slightly, to brush its fur. Melon makes a small noise, acknowledging my presence, before falling back to sleep. I marvel at the softness of her coat.

“I made a friend,” I start. “A longtime ago. She was an exchange student from Liverpool. My family took her in. The time we spent together was not a lot, but it was meaningful. I feel as if she knew me better than my own family, perhaps even myself. Her trust was everlasting, and back then I was so sure not to break it. Being myself, though, of course I hurt her. But she stayed. She wanted to stay. And out of the goodness of her heart, she continued to trust me. We were practically inseparable.

“I think that was the best I’ve ever been. Mentally, physically. I was happy. Not sick, not confined to a hospital bed and staring at fluorescent lights and listening to the beeping of a monitor. Instead, I lay in a bed of grass and stared at the shapes of the clouds and listened to the chirping of birds and whatever she had done that day. She was ridiculous. I hated her, she hated me. The most fun I’ve ever had. I never wanted anything from her; friendship nor anything romantic. Neither did she, on the romantic side of things, but we were as close as pseudo-siblings could be. I never expected the way we would end.

“‘What goes up must come down’, and vice-versa. I’ve always hated that phrase. But I suppose we all hate the truth.”

“And that is?”

“That I could never be happy,” it’s ridiculous how my voice cracks. “I got my driver’s license and crashed us into a river. That’s what happened. I landed myself in a coma and killed her. She told me that her greatest fear was being suffocated, or drowning. Of course she had to experience it. Of course it had to be me that made her go through that. They dug us up with water to the tips of our lungs. No one knows how I managed to get out alive. It eats me every day. Every waking moment I sit there, staring at her ghost and knowing it’s not there. It’s my own twisted mind making me relive the worst moments of my life through her image. I’ve corrupted her over and over again, making her say hateful things just so I can get that satisfaction that ‘yes, she hates you. Good.’ And if that was taken away from me, I don’t know what I’d do.”

“I see.”

Of course she does. Of course she doesn’t. Of course there is a hand on my shoulder, not asking me to look, but telling me she’s there.

And I know that one day, that won’t be there. The twisted comfort, the spite and the guilt and the hate that has gotten me through every day. That hole between my lungs will be covered with clay and fired so that I may breathe again. I want to look forward to it, but I’m scared. I’ve always been scared. That’s why I have no one but my parents and the illusion of her.

“I miss her.” I whisper, not meeting Eve’s eyes.

“I’m so happy you’ve said that,” she smiles. It’s genuine. “Now we can get started.”

I force myself to meet her gaze and I know she sees right through me. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I get the feeling you’re a philosophical kind of person,” she writes something down in her leather notebook. “Our eyes give away so much information about ourselves. That’s why we feel so vulnerable when we make eye contact, especially with someone new, or that we’re talking about something sensitive to.”

“‘The eyes are the windows to the soul’.”

“Exactly.”

[leeyanyanyaaan]

Kitsona Koven

A Kingdom Hearts "Heart Hotel" inspired AU, ft. all my kitsune OCs and personas 🦊

Where a young girl finds a kitsune mask amongst the abandoned belongings of her family's attic. Upon putting it on, she finds herself amongst multiple others uncannily resembling herself, only to find out later these are her other identities from other worlds.

"It all started with The Mask.

As I began finding identity within my personas and original characters, The Mask has grown and moulded along with them.

Now, it is the catalyst that holds them all."

Lee Anne

Sora; The Main Heart and soul/persona of all the Kitsonas.

Lee

18 years old

149cm / 4'11"

A graduating but struggling high school student.

Her main passion is writing, but she also enjoys gaming, watching anime and reading manga and books in general.

Her favorite colors are black and red.

Her favorite animal is a fox.

Quiet and introverted in public, yet that is but only one of many sides of her. Bubbly and energetic with her friends, cold and aloof towards her family, at ease on her own.

Doesn't know what she wants to do in college/university and is having an existential crisis over it as graduation nears.

Renge

Roxas; the Nobody.

Renge (蓮華)

16 years old

145cm / 4'9"

A half-kitsune. She needs to hide her kitsune side in public.

The chaotic gremlin baby kitsune of the group.

Looks like a cinnamon roll, can actually kill you.

Will steal your food.

Reincarnation of yANYAAAN, my old alias and persona.

Wears Japanese-styled casual clothing, likes hoodies and flowy pants.

Has reddish-brown undertones to her hair

(Art by @/pacpauo on Twitter)

Guren

Xion; the derivative of the Nobody.

Guren (紅蓮)

16 years old

163cm / 5'4"

Also half-kitsune but seems to have inherited more of the human side of them.

The one that just goes with the flow with everything because they have no idea what’s happening.

You’d think they’re a braincell holder but NO they’re just as head empty as everyone else.

The one that does it all with the straight face no energy. Super chill though.

The other half of Renge.

K1T5U3

Ventus; the Heart that resides.

Kitsue (K1T5U3) is just an alias

aka Kit (K1T), K1, The Fox Bandit (unofficially labelled by black market locals)

Real name: Hu Yanyan (狸晏炎)

17 years old

148cm / 4��10”

An infamous hitman at the young age of 14, she’s known for the kitsune mask she wears and the white fox tail that follows behind her. While it may seem fake, it is, in fact, a true fox tail, which is only a sign of her being a successful experiment of the government. A mysterious girl she is, her existence is often mistaken as some sort of legend, as no one’s ever truly seen her, though rumour has it that the ones who do meet her never live to tell the tale.

Long story short was sold to the government by her selfish parents who wanted the money from volunteering her into this obviously dubious experiment.

Cynical. Sceptical and distrusting, but has a vulnerable heart that she had to build walls around. Will be a tsundere towards those she loves, not wanting to seem weak or soft. Is ultimately a loyal person if you earn her trust.

Has a cheeky mischievous side to her, will only show it if she's close enough to you. Resembles Renge in which she has this innocent childlike demeanour.

She needs love and care she's been through a lot

L (leeyanyan)

Vanitas; the derivative of the Residing Heart.

Unit #1030-4

She no longer remembers her human name, but was lovingly given the nickname "leeyanyan" by the scientist that was working on her. She uses that as her identity ever since.

A refugee cyborg war machine. Has forgotten all of her memories except for her basic model details as her creators removed them all. She escaped from the organization in rebellion. Constantly on the run.

Before her conversion, she begged the scientist working on her to spare her. While that scientist couldn't do that in fear of punishment for disobeying the superiors, they did keep her memories safe in a memory card and was planning to secretly input it into her after conversion. However, things took an unexpected turn down at the laboratory, so the formed rebellion's plans had to make compromise in order to successfully escape. The scientist didn't make it.

L/leeyanyan doesn’t know how to act and feel like a human anymore and is troubled by that. She only knows how to kill, which she chooses to only do so if threatened.

Uses kunai. Has mechanically enhanced abilities as a robot-human.

She feels like she’s looking for something, someone.

[greenscreen-dress]

HOLY SHIET!!!!!!!!!!!! 💥🥰🎉🤩😊👁️🦀😍🔥✨💚💖🫶🫠✅🥳 Okokokok I have. SO many words about how cool this is and how much I love it aaaaaa this is going to be Very rambly and repetitive maybe. I'm just. AAAAAAA THIS IS A DELIGHT!!

Readmore to spare y'all's dashes from this LONG SHOUTY EXCITED RAMBLE you're welcome ^^;

Right off the bat, yes you can ABSOLUTELY post this to ao3 (I'm eMeraldlapin over there) please share it with the world I have a good dozen ppl that will go completely bananas over any new fic with xBcrafted front and centre... And this is SUCH A HIGH QUALITY WONDERFUL XB!! You nailed his voice so well, all the little mannerisms: the pacing of each sentence with commas, the capitalisation of "it's a whole Thing, y'know", the averted swear to start things off, it's just. That's him it's HIM! And not only that, but Joe and Cleo are part of the ride and they are ALSO excellently done!! Cleo the fake awful girlfriend and Joe joining in aaaaa, they would they would they WOULD DO THAT. 💚. I was about to go "it's like this fic was DESIGNED for me" but then. the braincells caught up ^^;

Ok moving on. Your woldbuilding?? is so??? I LOVE IT???? Planetary-dimensions-Rendogverse space setting is not my go-to when it comes to Hermitcraft, but when it's well done I very much enjoy it. AND THIS IS VERY NICELY DONE :DDD The guardian lore is also delicious, from the waterworld to the naming conventions to them hAVING EXOSKELETONS THAT THEY SHED ON BECOMING ADULTS YESSSSS. GET SHRIMPED FISHBOI :D

Genuinely though, I adore this so much... My personal headcanon is that current in-game guardians are mechanical constructs based on an ancient extinct fish species, so your version of the organic guardian-people having tough shells that they need to shed is!! Such a delight!!! Also the combative / trial aspects of this culture are fascinating... "welcome to your adult body, go give it a test drive by mauling uuuuh That guy". Fun!!

The fact that xB panicked and just Left is interesting actually, bc of course he wasn't planning on fighting for his life that day + wanted to get Joe & Cleo out of there... But also it suggests that newly-shed mature guardians are a significant challenge. Maybe their spines are extremely sharp when they emerge and get duller over time? I LOVE LOVE LOVE worldbuilding like this, which is extremely solid but has enough holes for you to plant your own headcanon-seeds into :D

Aaaaghhh I'm out of words and coherent thoughts for how GOOD and INTERESTING this is!! I literally just got done posting my own gift for this exchange when I got the notification for this, & I've just been sitting in bed kicking my legs in excitement the whole time I was reading, this is so. AUGH. Thank you so much, this is a phenomenal gift exchange gift— and even ended up as a birthday gift for me too, which is especially fun. Yaaay timing! ^^

2023 Halloween Gift Exchange

My gift for @greenscreen-dress for @mcyt-halloween !

Summary: xB is invited back to his home server for a ceremony. Joe and Cleo come along to make things more bearable.

“Ohh, son of a…”

“What is it, man?” says Cub, sliding over to xB to see what he’s reading on his communicator.

“It’s just a family thing, kind of annoying though,” he scrolls through the message, taking in the details. Cub glances at it, but looks away as soon as he realises this isn’t something he’ll understand.

“What sort of family thing?” Gem asks, from across the Decked Out hallway, where she and Cleo are doing… something. xB doesn’t know what it is, but it involves wooden swords and their decks on the floor and an armour stand that he thinks is supposed to be Tango? They used a blue bath-towel instead of a robe.

“Guardian coming of age ritual, involving one of my cousins,” he sighs, flicking his tail back and forth, “The point is I’ll have to go back to my family’s server and meet everyone and it’s going to be a whole Thing.”

“I mean, xB, if you don’t want to do it, just don’t go? If you don’t like your biological family, you shouldn’t feel obligated to visit them,” Cleo says, messing with the Tango armour stand as they speak.

“I like some of my family. Not all of them are bad. But yeah it’s, mm,” he purses his lips together, thinking of what to say, “I do want to stay in contact, but as long as I do that, they’ll expect me to go to coming of age rituals. And it isn’t that bad on it’s own but some of them are just very… traditional. And judgemental. But, it isn’t the end of the world? It’s just… a Thing.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get that. The Vex sometimes can sometimes be, uh, very overbearing,” Cub says, from his spot, crammed into an indent in the wall.

 “Hm, yeah,” Cleo pauses, either pondering what she should say or whether she should stab the Tango armour stand, “Maybe, if you want, one of us could come with you? Just to make the whole thing more bearable. I wouldn’t mind. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a guardian city in-person before.”

“Yeah, that actually sounds like a good idea,” Cleo’s presence is calming - in a no-nonsense, sarcastic way. The only time he’s ever brought someone with him to his home server was Keralis, ages ago on a holiday, which looking back on, was a horrible decision. Cleo, however, he thinks is far more mature than Keralis, and will only steal people’s possessions if necessary, “I mean, will you be free this Saturday afternoon?”

She smiles.

World hopping has developed a lot over the past century, which is nice. xB remembers when a trip across a galaxy would take a few weeks, but now, it’s only a few hours. It’s incredibly convenient since, in true hermit fashion, they always choose very distant planets for their worlds. His ship’s on autopilot and the estimated arrival time is two hours, fifteen minutes. He can chill. He watches the little map on the GUI, the ship zooming past various named star systems. His passengers, behind him, are also chilling. Passengers, plural, because Cleo wanted to drag Joe along too. Which, wasn’t the plan, but xB couldn’t say he was too surprised when Cleo and Joe both showed up to his ship. Like, you can’t get one without the other. They’re sold as a pair. He hears them arguing, something about the difference between a gravestone and a cenotaph. Cleo says they’ll break Joe’s legs. Joe starts talking faster, pleading for his life.

At the very least, xB’s home world is beautiful. As they approach it at last, it turns from a perfect blue circle to a painter’s dream – miles and miles of beaches and sea. There’s no considerable landmass on it greater than a few square miles, and all that’s on those are ship docks and tourism centres, everything else is in the water. He parks, opens the doors, and breathes in the salty sea air. It burns his nose, but in a refreshing and nostalgic way.

“We’re here! In case you haven’t noticed,” he says, but he knows they have, especially since Joe has spent the last twenty minutes trying to take pictures of the planet through the tiny windows.

“Oh wow,” Cleo steps out, “I will say, in terms of places to visit, this certainly isn’t the worst for looks.”

Joe steps out after, running out a bit further to take pictures of the sea. xB giggles, “Now the question is, will your opinion change when you meet the family.”

“Oh gods yeah, that’s gonna be, uh,” she laughs and shakes her head, “Well, we’ll be here for you, xB. And on that note, what is our story going to be?”

“Our story?”

“Yeah, like, why we’re here with you. Are we just saying we’re friends coming along because we wanted to visit?” Cleo pauses, before gasping, “Oh! I could pretend to be your annoying girlfriend! That would be fun.”

“Hey now, if you’re xB’s partner, what would that make me?”

“Oh Joe, you can be with xB too. I’m sure we can share him,” she ruffles Joe’s hair, “I mean, if you’re alright with that, xB.”

“No, no, that’s fine,” he’s laughing, “That does sound interesting.”

Whilst Cleo and Joe are arguing about the details of their very real relationship with xB, he is busy sorting out actually important things, like how Cleo and Joe are going to get to the monument. Every urban area has conduit-powered water, but for such a deep and lengthy swim, they’re still going to need equipment. He’s packed hour-lasting water breathing and resistance potions, to reduce any issues with suffocation and pressure; specialist helmets with goggles for seeing in dark environments, enchanted with aqua-infinity, and with built-in translation software so they can both understand and speak water-tongue; and flip-flops enchanted with depth strider for easy movement. It takes a further ten minutes for xB to get them to properly equip the stuff and acclimatise to breathing in the water. Then, they’re ready to go.

xB leads them down, following the currents to the monument. It’s mainly a smell thing, because the monument is the most populated thing in this area of the ocean, and you can definitely tell, but he also knows the way off by heart.

“Alright, just checking you can hear me alright?” he asks in water-tongue – a deep, chittering language that works solely for water – now they’re a decent bit down it’s worth checking Joe and Cleo actually know what’s going on.

Cleo gives a thumbs up, whilst Joe responds, “Loud and clear!” through the robotic voice from the helmet. It sounds a little crunchy. xB wonders if that’s it struggling to translate Joe’s accent.

They keep swimming down, until the monument leers in front of them. It’s far more impressive than the ones inhabited by regular guardians, with this one being twice the size with twice the colours and covered in flickering neon lights. He feels Joe and Cleo stop, presumably looking on in wonder. He supposes it’s pretty impressive if it’s your first time seeing one, but given he’s spent too many years living there, and has seen some five times more impressive in bigger cities, it’s just a regular building to him. They start swimming again, xB careful to keep the three of them in the “incoming” current. Small settlements and businesses rest on the seafloor below them, branching out around the monument, but most people will be living inside it.

They take the top entrance, xB telling the guards they’re here for tessC Crafted’s ceremony and the three of them are let in without trouble.

“The guards are more for display, than anything,” he says to Joe and Cleo once they’re inside the monument and alone in the winding corridors, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen them refuse anyone in, they just deter criminals by being there.”

“Right,” Cleo says, glancing around, “Good to know! I’ll just be staying right by you, so I don’t get lost, because this place is an absolute maze.”

“Yeah, I mean, yeah,” he laughs, “There’s no structure, you just learn where everything is by living here.”

“So where are we going now?” Joe asks.

“The main hall, it’s got like, a big platform in the centre and a bunch of seats,” he takes a sudden left turn, making Joe and Cleo quickly swerve after him, “You just kind of wander around and talk to people, and then everyone sits down, and the ceremony begins.”

“So, it’s like a wedding?” Cleo says, slight uncertainty in her voice.

“Um, I guess?” xB says, about to elaborate further, before the hallway opens up into a massive chamber. Several rows of flat seats wrap in a horseshoe shape around a long walkway, raised several metres above the seats nearest, leading into the back of the wall where there’s a door for the ceremony participants to emerge.

The noise is the most prominent thing, chittering bouncing off the walls and coming back in an incoherent blabble. He imagines Joe and Cleo won’t even be hearing this, it’s so indecipherable the software won’t bother to translate it. It’s no surprise it’s so loud, with hundreds of people in here. Technically, its only mandatory that the family of the person involved come, but everyone living nearby tends to, both as an act of community support and because free food is served throughout. Since xB is family, they’ll be right at the front on the bottom seats. He leads his friends down there, picking out a free-ish spot for them. With less people being at the bottom of the hall, it’s easier to hear things.

“Why, xB, you came,” a voice booms from behind him, belonging to none other than his biological mother. Great.

“Uh, hello. Joe, Cleo, this is my mother, beK Crafted,” he grabs his friends’ arms, making sure they’re here for this conversation, “And, mother,” he pauses for a second, wondering if he really wants to go this route, before remembering he has no fucks to give, “This is my girlfriend Cleo, and her partner Joe.”

“Oh, don’t be so humble, my Angel Pie xB! Joe is your boyfriend too!” for good measure, she even ruffles his hair as they say it, and it takes everything he has in him to not burst out laughing. She turns to his mother, holding out her hand, “Hi! I’m Cleo! I’ve heard so much about you!”

“Right,” his mother tentatively shakes Cleo’s hand, looking down on it like she might catch a disease. This is going far better than xB ever imagined.

“I – on the other hand – have heard nothing about you! xB has never mentioned you to me! This is a wonderful night to meet!” Joe says, grabbing his mother’s other hand to shake at the same time. He’s doing it far too fast, jerking her arm up and down.

His mother wrinkles her nose and steps back, flicking the hands off her, “Right. It’s good that you’re here and that you’ve-” she does nothing to hide the disappointment in her tone, “Brought some other people around. Make sure to introduce yourself to everybody, I’m sure your uncle rK would love to see you.”

His mother quickly swims away, to nearly the other side of the hall.

Cleo turns to him, “Was that a success?”

“Oh yeah, absolutely. Usually she goes on super long rants to me, or brings up about when I’ll be having grandkids, so it’s nice to have skipped all that.”

“Oh geez, are you sure you want to come to these things?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. I don’t take any of it to heart, it’s just annoying,” they both nod, but still look rather unconvinced.

They continue talking to xB’s other family members, in a way that has made this kind of thing far more enjoyable than it has been in a long time, with everyone reacting to Cleo’s ridiculous pet names with either obvious distress or approval, some even finding her charming, somehow. It’s nice to be able to catch up with his more reasonable family members, and anyone annoying Joe scares off with his passionate talks of eighteenth-century poetry. They have a good time.

The lights begin to dim and xB ushers Joe and Cleo to sit. Whilst the rest of the chamber grows dark, the walkway lights up and the door slides open. Stumbling and shambling, xB’s cousin emerges and makes the harrowing walk to the end of the platform. If he didn’t know better, he’d say she was sick: desaturated skin, tattered fins, and dead eyes. It’s obvious she’s just about to undergo metamorphosis though, with her juvenile external fins fluttering in the water.

She collapses as soon as she reaches the spot, body completely relaxing until she looks like a ragdoll. Some soft tearing sounds echo through the water.

“What’s going on?” Cleo whispers to him.

“She’s about to grow into her new body,” he says,” Just… watch.”

Cleo turns back to tessC, transfixed. At her back, a new, pale growth emerges from the ripped skin. It grows and grows, until it becomes evident it is, in fact, her back, and her arms and legs come with it too. She’s covered in spines and the tail that forces itself out of the body is far longer than it once was. Eventually, her head frees itself too, and there are no signs of the external fins anymore. She pushes herself onto her feet and makes a noise, somewhat like a growl, triumphant over her old body. Her limbs still look so wobbly and crooked and her tail hasn’t quite filled itself out yet, it’ll take a few hours for her new self to settle into shape.

“Oh wow,” Joe murmurs, “I didn’t know guardians did that.”

“Yeah, metamorphosis into adult form,” xB says, looking around for the elders, “I remember mine. It really hurt. They’ll just need to choose the sacrifice and then we should be done.”

“Hold on, sacrifice?” Cleo whips her head around.

“Yeah? After someone sheds their skin, another person is chosen for them to test their claws on. Like, they don’t die, most of the time, but it is pretty brutal.”

“That, feels like something you should have mentioned before coming here? Some guy just gets ripped to shreds every time this happens?”

“I- Oh yeah. It completely slipped my mind. Um, if it makes you feel better, you won’t get picked? They won’t have your name down, it’ll just be me. And in all my years, I’ve never been picked, it’s really unlikely.”

The elders, on a balcony looking over everything, read out from a piece of paper, “This year’s sacrifice shall be… xB Crafted!”

Joe hums, “Wow, way to jinx things!”

Cleo grabs his arm, “Yeah, no way am I letting you get hurt because of these idiots, come on!” she tugs him upward, kicking as much as she can.

xB doesn’t falter, the survivalist in him knowing he has to escape now if he wants a chance. He snatches Joe’s hand and starts swimming, thrashing his tail as hard as he can. He can feel the water ripple around him, others trying to catch up to them and catch them, you weren’t really supposed to try and escape, and all. He couldn’t bring his usual guns, being under the water and all, but he does have a rather nice harpoon gun, however, he doesn’t really want to attack his family members and former friends unless he has to. Cleo, on the other hand, managed to smuggle in her sword and doesn’t hold back swinging at people in her way. They escape the great hall, diving into the corridors, and xB takes special care to not let go of Joe or Cleo as he takes twisting routes to cover their tail. They zoom out a small, unguarded exit xB discovered himself many years ago, near the bottom of the monument. He doesn’t dare slow their pace, charging through the water, practically carrying a panting Joe and Cleo, until they reach the island they landed on.

“We’re out,” he says, flopping onto the surface, “Don’t bother to take your stuff off now, just hop in and I’ll take off. They’ll give up pursuit once we leave the surface.”

They both nod in response and xB hops inside, fiddling with the controls and inputting the co-ordinates of their Season 8 planet. Thankfully, they take off with no issues.

“xB,” Joe says as soon as he’s got his helmet off, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m… fine.”

“Really?” Joe tries to raise an eyebrow, but he can’t, so he just makes a weird face.

“Yeah, well, a little sad,” he admits, “I definitely won’t be able to return now. I mean, I know it’s probably for the best? But, like, there’s still that feeling that I’ve lost something, y’know?”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Joe isn’t following the correct safety protocols for space travel, instead opting to stand behind xB and rest his hand on his shoulder.

“Just remember that we’ll always be here for you, alright?” Cleo says and the thought does cheer him up, because they’re right. He’ll give himself a little time to grieve, but really, there isn’t anything those stuck-up guardian folk could’ve given him that his friends can’t. He probably had more fun today, because of Joe and Cleo, than he has had in every other family gathering combined. He hears Joe recount some lines from a classic and Cleo groans, and, well, maybe it isn’t beautiful blue planet with gorgeous underwater cities, but it still makes him pretty happy.

[xkitcharmont]

♛･*˚ INTRODUCING: CROWN PRINCE KIT CHARMONT 💝

inspired  by  :  PRINCE CHARMING, of cinderella — additional : leopold mountbatten ( kate & leopold ), prince kit ( cinderella - 2015 ), prince henry but like more enlightened and not an elitist ( ever after ), princess anneliese ( barbie as princess & the pauper ), the nutcracker/prince eric ( barbie in the nutcracker ), princess ann ( roman holiday ) — can you tell he’s a prince yet — anne lister ( gentleman jack ), sam baldwin ( sleepless in seattle ), aragorn ( lord of the rings ), clark kent ( superman 1978 ), also ig just like tom hanks in rom-coms vibes

full name. christopher reginald lancelot charmont preferred name. kit !!! faceclaim. richard madden dob. 7 may 1986 (taurus) occupation. prince of ulstead (first in line)

!! quick first impression: he is courteous, he is perhaps a little too formal when you first meet him, but it’s all warmth and sincerity. no dry sarcasm here but he does love to crack a joke. perfect posture. very much a prince, through and through. wide, brilliant smile. nice cologne. 😌

physical description.

curly brown hair ; short trimmed beard (soft !!)

5ft 9 ¼ (175.9 cm)

clothing: neat, stylish, tones of gold, green, blue, grey, white. 

( for more information on kit, please also view his full little introduction here ! it’s a more detailed version of the information below :3 )

birthplace. ulstead, france orientation. biromantic, demisexual

song. vienna, by billy joel

You got your passion, you got your pride But don't you know that only fools are satisfied? Dream on, but don't imagine they'll all come true When will you realize... Vienna waits for you?

> JUST KIT THINGZ  👑

highest level of education. masters in international relations

other skills/training. naval training, equestrian training, military training, an insane knowledge of microsoft and google suite (he is an excel master), also notion pages and every calendar app known to man.

languages spoken.

fluent : english, french, spanish, italian, german, latin, ASL ( french & american )

learning : mandarin, arabic, japanese, russian

hobbies.

sports : fencing, polo, rowing, spelunking, rock-climbing, hiking

fun : baking !!! :3 man loves to bake, and do scrabble, and trivia !!!!, and KARAOKE !!

music : piano, he sings pretty well too smh

kit quirks.

he has SWORDS (but he keeps them at home). 

as a kid, his favourite stories were of pirates.

he sends weekly emails to his brothers called ‘ulstead uppity updates’ (UUU ; the ‘triple U’). these detail everything happening in royal meetings, including minutes, latest decisions, and any proposals the brothers should look over.

he bakes a lot, and is very good at decorating cupcakes and cakes. he likes to bake pies. everything he makes in excess is given to his neighbours, or to passers-by, or to local orphanages and shelters.

his two cats: vienna (the tortoiseshell) and antoinette (a black cat). both of them are rescue cats. 

you’ll see him biking around with a cat backpack on sometimes. if you wave, he’ll ring the little bike bell and smile !!

he likes to listen to music in the open, not through headphones. so he usually only plays it freely in his home. he loves music up to the early 2010s. after that it is a void.

> THE PAST

kit charmont was raised in ulstead, france with his two little brothers (florian & philip), and their mother and father (king hubert)

in his teens: 

kit stayed mainly within ulstead, finishing all his relevant studies. 

not really a party animal, not many close friends, was known as a very polite kid but kind of quiet and kept to himself

literally the one who like stays at home doing homework for the next school year.

smartest kid in school, valedictorian, all of that. started learning languages at this time, president of the academic decathlon, hehe

in his twenties:

kit studied his undergraduate degree in arts, while also commencing more rigorous royal studies to complement his duties. 

he also began training with the royal army and navy

it’s within this decade that his mother dies.

in his 20s-30s:

kit began to want more from life. always prepared, and very self-aware, he knew that in order to be the king/brother/son that his family needed, then he needed to make sure he was okay. 

his late 20s/early 30s was a time of self-reflection and soul-searching. he started to travel alongside his royal duties, learning as much as he could of the world and ‘living’ as much as he could before he stayed permanently within ulstead’s borders.

his travels took him all over the world, but he would not have stayed for more than 2 weeks somewhere before he came back to ulstead. 

he knew his father was preparing to pass the crown to him soon, and he wanted to be ready. 

marriage ???? no !!!

he finished his travels around age 34. but just because he stopped travelling, it didn’t mean he stopped learning. this man is the literal definition of ‘lifelong learning’. much to his father’s chagrin, he was still balancing time between princely duties and his personal passions. but no one could say that the royal court ever suffered, because kit was always on time and did his homework, providing substantial discussion etc.

he got along really well with his father, until it came to the marriage thing. 

he had to marry ??? what why ??? so that someone could take care of him ??? not right now ://

but then ella ....

you know the story. the beautiful maiden in the gorgeous dress, attending the royal ball in ulstead. no one knows who she is, but look! she’s caught the crown prince’s eye. who was she!

heart-eyes. heart-eyes EVERYWHERE.

he’s not sure he fell in love, but he had never been more ready to fall in love than at that moment. he would have leapt into love for her.

BUT THEN MALEFICENT #$%^$

she knows what she did !!!! >:((( 

> PRESENT

now the charmonts are in elias. 

kit was the last one to leave ulstead. he understood the need to protect his brothers, but he couldn’t fathom why his father wanted him to escape too. who would be left to protect their kingdom? who would be the one to come up with a plan? his father’s aging advisors? that snivelly Grand Duke??

and by last to leave, i mean he left a few days after his brothers. he fought tooth and nail with his father that he should stay. tried every trick in the book. but eventually, he surrendered to his father’s desperation.

he’s been at elias now for at least a 1.5 years. he was there for the big battle with hades and maleficent (let’s just say he played a super small role and didn’t do much other than general fighting).

he lives in an apartment all by himself. and two cats: vienna & antoinette. they have lil cat backpacks.

he has no horse :(( he has a car here, but mainly rides his bike around elias. 

he spends his days doing a ‘work from home’ situation, still attending royal meetings and fulfilling his duties. things have recently become more difficult due to his father’s exhausted state. it’s hard to be semi-king of your kingdom when you’re an ocean away.

other things he does in elias:

volunteers time with different organisations, such as orphanages, homeless shelters, and fundraising events

he started the ‘chatty cafe’ in the community centre. on tuesday and thursday afternoons, you get to just sit and chat about anything, and there’s free coffee, tea, and snacks. kit is always there, without fail, to chat to anyone who needs it.

bit of a good samaritan around elias, just known for doing nice things like helping someone with their groceries, paying for the items of the people in the queue, getting a cat out of a tree hehe

[ MENTAL STATE ]

kit has always done very well with like self care and all that. 

but being stuck in elias makes him restless. he’s not sure if he wants to make a life here. he’s got his cats, he’s got his hobbies, but it feels like the longest business trip in the world. and the worst part is, he’s not meant to act like a prince here.

they’re meant to be ‘in hiding’ technically, so he introduces himself as only ‘kit’. and it comes with its perks — he has to admit it’s a little freeing to now have that time he used to crave. the time to just be whoever he wanted to be. only it came a decade too late because he literally just got into the rhythm of being an almost-king in ulstead, and now he has to be .... HIDING ????

being in hiding from a witch, being kept away from his beloved home country .... this was NOT in his ten-year plan.

he’s so proud of being a prince, he loves his kingdom so much. WHY CAN’T HE JUST GO HOME !!!!!

on the family front: he and florian are tense atm (have been for a few years now), and ... kit doesn’t know how to fix it :((

> FUTURE

he’s going to defeat maleficent if it’s the last thing he does honestly

he wants to learn more about magic, or at least request the help and assistance of magic-users who could know something to combat/defend against maleficent

then he’s going back to ulstead

(maybe fall in love?? 🥺)

> TAKEN connections 🕺

florian charmont. brother

philip charmont. brother.

aurora capulet-charmont. sister-in-law

maleficent faery. enemy !!!! ⚔️🔥 IT’S ON SIGHT

elsa arnadalr. dear old friend (lil sis elsa)

anna arndalr. LITTLER SIS ANNA

james sullivan. friend. (met once at a business conference, had the best time, lost touch but will come back together again !!)

more to coooommmee ...

> WANTED connections 🎂

neighbours : want some free food ? need some pet-sitting done ? nervous to talk to the land-lord and need some help ? kit is your guy. his apartment building is a bit ‘posh’ and on the rich side. 

chatty cafe : as explained above, the chatty cafe is a thing he started in the community centre. every tuesday and thursday afternoon he and other volunteers sit down and chat with anyone who needs it; there’s free tea, coffee, and snacks.

stranger in need, is a friend indeed : kit doesn’t shy away from asking if someone needs assistance. there’s very little he can’t do. study help? yes. language help? yes. assistance with navigating forms and paperwork? YES. 

did someone say ... prince charming ? : similar to the above but more the ‘damsel in distress’ route hehe. here is literally prince charming. can end up hilarious, serious, dramatic, sad, you name it. not necessarily romantic. ( any gender !!! :3 )

you’ve got a friend in me : kit has never had ... uhh ... friends. the closest people to him are his brothers, and the captain of ulstead. he needs people that he interacts with as just himself, not as someone helping out or doing something. people he can chill with — and honestly, they need to make him chill.

he likes trivia nights, board games, karaoke, HIKING, sports, PLSSS

he is also a music lover, will go to any concert pls

can you tell i want him to have friends :///

barbie as princess and the pauper (i'm just like you !!! you’re just like mEEEE !!! ): listen .. bear with me ... someone who also deals with a lot of responsibility and stress. please raise your hand. now you are officially the erika to kit’s anneliese. best friendism and cats.

tough love : in addition to friends, he needs people who will tell him straight up that he needs to slow the heck down and run at a normal human being’s pace for once. force him to take a vacation pls. 

it’s witchcraft (frank sinatra vc) : he would like to learn more about magic so he can better defend his kingdom and family against maleficent :((

[agentbluefox]

I desperately want to hear your thoughts on Frankie and Face (also can't wait to see that rant about Face and his father)

First, thank you for enabling me to rant about this. Literally rubbed my hands together when I got your ask and was like ‘my time has come I am going to go OFF about this'

^^ actual footage of my last three braincells upon receiving this ask. (this got so long. it’s below the cut to spare everyone)

(I’ll preface this by saying I’m mostly looking at this from an in-universe perspective, not really criticizing the writing choices or why the writers/directors did certain things)

I’m going to briefly talk about season 5 as a whole because I think it’s linked to the thoughts I have on Frankie. I actually didn’t dislike season 5. It’s far from my favorite, but I feel like it is misunderstood to some extent (especially in fanfics). Or maybe I just like my interpretation of it. Either way, it wasn’t a bad season, and it provided a lot of interesting character moments by putting them all in situations we hadn’t really seen before.

However, the entire tone changed, the dynamics changed, and the overall story and interactions just felt a little... off.

Frankie is... fine as a character. If he were the protagonist/sidekick of some other show, he would be fine, he’d probably even be an interesting character. But he just doesn’t work in the A-Team. At least not in the way that the writers seemingly intended. The team, for four seasons, has operated as a single cohesive unit. You can TELL that these men have worked together for years, you can tell they’ve been though war and hardship together. This also means that it’s very clear that each of them has a purpose within the unit.

Hannibal is the leader and everyman in a sense, Murdock is the pilot and backup, B.A. is the muscle, Face is the con-man. That doesn’t mean the roles aren’t occasionally interchangeable or they don’t have other jobs or abilities, because they absolutely do, but at a very basic level, they all have a job and a place and it works well within the dynamic.

Then we get to season 5 and several things happen. First, the tone is different from the outset, the stakes are higher, there’s not so many fun missions or lightheartedness. The team isn’t just helping out the little guy anymore, they’re following orders from a man none of them seem to really respect, and doing jobs that none of them really seem to want to be doing.

At the beginning, through the trial, we really get to see the team’s loyalty to each other on display. This is great. But while the stakes remain high through the season, the dynamics go through a shift. Starting, I think, with Frankie. First, we see Hannibal taking Frankie under his wing, almost as a mentor (a dynamic that we’ve most often seen between Face and Hannibal in the past). We’ve never heard of this guy, suddenly Hannibal trusts him so we’re supposed to trust him. This MIGHT have worked if it was handled a little differently. As it is, it feels cheap and contrived. (especially since Frankie is just really full of himself from the first introduction) Murdock was right when he pulled Frankie aside and told him “It’s my team, not our team.”

So Frankie is taken into the team as a fifth member. The problem is, there’s no place for him within the cohesive unit that we’ve been presented with for the past four years.

And since there’s no real place for him, it became necessary to create one. The issue is that his place tends to overlap A Lot with Face’s. From his skillset to his relationship with the other characters - particularly Hannibal. The other additions to the team in the past (Amy for example) have added their own skillset/perspective/etc. They added something that the others couldn’t. Which I just felt wasn’t the case for Frankie.

We have scenes where Face is teaching him to pick a lock or to scam people, which at first is a little endearing. Like, okay, Face gets to teach someone else the ‘tricks of the trade,’ if you will. But very quickly, we start to get scenes where it’s just Frankie doing all these things that Face always handled. Frankie is redundant, and the narrative makes no attempt to give him his own niche. This leaves Face as a redundancy himself.

And to be fair, it’s not even just Frankie, it’s the rest of the team too. ‘The Spy Who Mugged Me’ is a great example of that. And, objectively, I like this episode. It’s a fun story and it’s neat to see Murdock taking on a role that’s so opposed to the one he usually has. But once again, it is Face’s role; one that he’s not being allowed to fill, which leaves him basically as an extra. And here we do see quite a strong reaction from Face, after Murdock leaves him out on the balcony all night (I love Murdock but I just want to shake him for this tbh). He hasn’t been allowed to fulfill his role on the team, and then when he’s completely removed from the equation, nobody even notices. Might just be my interpretation but he feels sort of reserved this whole season. Like he’s drifting a little bit, with no reassurance that he really is vital to the operation of the team. Something that I think he needs more than any of the others.

He tries to leave in season 5. Something he’s done once before, though the circumstances were different. This is an interesting decision, because it means he’s giving up the pardon, despite being the one constantly looking for the normal life it would provide. That being said, I personally don’t think he ever intended to actually leave. I think we were seeing him at the end of his rope, realizing that this isn’t quite what he wanted, and this was, in a way, an act of desperation. To see if his team would try and stop him, or to see if they would follow him. What he was proposing was basically to go back to the way things were. Being on the run, helping people THEY wanted to help, instead of performing glorified chores for Stockwell, and watching his place on the team be given over to an outsider.

B.A. said early in the series that Face would be in jail if it wasn’t for Hannibal, and I think this is absolutely true. Face is the most vocal about wanting a normal life, but I think he’s the one least suited to it in many ways. He’s never had a normal life. I don’t think he would know how to stop. He enjoys it, just like the rest of them do. With Frankie there, I think he probably recognized that he was potentially replaceable and that, if they get the pardons, he might lose his team for good.

I got the sense that they were all in a sort of survival mode in the last season. They cut it really close with the trial and their ‘executions’ and then they’re offered a chance at the pardons. I got the sense of “none of us are happy about it, but we’re going to suck it up and make the best of it because what other choice do we have?” Maybe Hannibal realized he could have got them all killed and that’s still a very real possibility, so the focus now HAS to be on getting the pardons, and he’ll deal with the fallout later (Face, Murdock’s mental state, etc.). Unfortunately, that means we have the team at a low point in many ways.

Now, I have my own headcanons about what happened after the finale (which I will either make a post about at some point or write a fanfic about), but I think at some point, the balance these characters has is pushed completely off kilter, forcing them (Hannibal mainly) to take a step back and evaluate where they are and what needs to change. Recognizing that their operation worked because their dynamic worked, not just as a team but really as a family, and that maybe the pardons aren’t really worth all the trouble they’ve caused.

[heli0s-writes]

heart beats slow* (b.b)

a/n: erm, porn with (squints) slight feelings 1.6k words  title from this song :)

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, bucky has 3 braincells: horny, sad, tender. please stop reading if you are not 18+

brooklyn after dark masterlist

“You nailed that guy.”

At it again, Bucky thinks as a low, impressed whistle buzzes past your lips. It’s the third time you’ve brought it up, so proud of yourself, and positively chipper at the way he took down a trigger-happy agent with—yeah—a nail gun.

You lean against the frame and suggest, “Appreciate the utter poetry of your situation,” but all he does is dramatically roll his eyes.

A regular Friday night: retrieve a highly dangerous alien weapon and try not to kill oops the bad guy. Do a good job and everyone can make it to bed in one piece at a reasonable time.

Tonight, he did a great job, so he ends up with a few extra hours to spare, speeding through the city with the wind in his hair and high on adrenaline. He’s buzzy in his chest, vibrating on his toes because unfortunately, the downside of being so efficient is that sometimes he still itches for a match his body was expecting. More fight. More action.

Good news: so are you.

“Keep it in your pants,” Bucky says, nudging you out of the way and unlocking the door. “I know you’re into me, but easy, tiger.”

“Really?” You jab him in the side with a quick fist. “Into you? Really full of yourself, Barnes.”

“You’re about to be full of me, too.”

You jab him in his back next, but Bucky takes it like a champ, laughing at how easily he can rile you up.

Teasing is clockwork. Mess with each other for a couple of weeks, barrel into a bit of violence headfirst, and then what better way to end the chase than to take each other to pieces, to fuck like animals. You say, anything for a friend, Barnes. We’re friends, aren’t we?

Of course you are. You’re a stone-cold killer and a perfect counterpart for all his moods. Not a graduate of the Red Room, but equally fluent in compartmentalizing and lying and well— you fuck with no strings attached.

He’s allowed to release all that weird guilt anger shame killer programming pent up energy and blow his load in the process. You don’t ask questions and you don’t stay the night, disappearing home sometime between when Bucky’s soul meanders back into his body and when he reaches the shower to scrub himself clean.

He’d been warned about not getting involved. Plenty of concern from Sam about getting “poorly wired android signals” crossed. It’s dangerous with a friend, and he’s not got many of them to risk losing.

He’ll have to think about it later, another time, like always, when you’re not unzipping the front of your jacket.

Not when you’re tossing your clothes somewhere into the dark, eyebrow raising in a challenge. Nah. He licks his canines instead, can hardly wait to get his hands on you, his fingers around your hipbones, his nose on your neck, savoring the way your throat bobs when you swallow.

“Easy, tiger,” you warn when he reaches forward, twirling a pointer down the hall. He retreats as directed, slinking away with goosebumps, breathing through his mouth to calm the pace of his thrilled heart.

He’s still got his pants on when you splay your hand out on his chest, pointer on the hollow of his neck, pressing gently. “Back up.”

He does until he hits the bed.

“What do you want today, Barnes?” You wonder, eyes mysteriously purple beneath shadows. Faint daubs of gold lines the side of your cheek from the window light, the curve of your shoulder, the tops of your breasts. You step and move until your elbows are past his neck, forearms limp over his back. One knee slides up the inseam of his pants.

“You want me to call you daddy, Sergeant?” But he makes a noise like a scoff. “Okay, not tonight,” you murmur knowingly, closer now, your lower abdomen hitting the loose clink of his belt buckle. “You want it easy?”

You look again. A blink here, a study there. So clever and bright, your eyes. How you read him is a miracle, but not even you’re wholly convinced when you say warily, “You want me to call you... baby?”

It tightens something in his gut and chest. He doesn’t do baby. That’s not helpful to anyone; that doesn’t purge the itch, and you know better. So what are you thinking, asking that? What did you read off his face? Hear from his voice?

“Just--” He doesn’t address the question, only pausing when your hands go into his hair, untangling the mess the wind left. He unexpectedly sighs into the sensation, the rustling sound drowning out car engines outside. “Get on the damn bed.”

“Whatever you say.”

You start crawling, pants still on, and Bucky yanks them down impatiently. He’s pushing your spine into the sheets, dick leaking precome on your underwear before something pivots in his cluttered mind.

It’s your fault; you brought it up.

He drops to his knees, gets his mouth on your thighs.

“Hey…” you say, “Barnes.”

“Easy,” he says back.

Two fingers brush down the line of your slit, warmth seeping inside your panties hotter and hotter with every stroke. Your body flexes, shuddering as he does it again. He’s never gone slow and he doesn’t know what’s possessed him this time, but he parts them, curls them on the outside of your lips, pinching your clit, and then his mouth is sucking at your sweet flavor through the fabric.

Bucky carefully turns his head to get into better positions. He’s kissing syrup out of a honeycomb and you’re keening for more, pawing at your own tits, grinding back into his mouth. You’re desperate, he can hear it when you choke on the first few letters of his name. Not used to being treated gently and neither is he, but he’s discovering that he really likes the way you shake on his face.

He pays your squirming no mind, not even when you wiggle out of your underwear, grab him by his hair and pull him off. Bucky holds your hands, flicks his tongue even more.

“Mmm,” he slurs, drunk on the novelty of what feels like tenderness. “You taste good.”

Regular nights together know roughness. The beat of his palm on your bare ass, harmonies of grunts and howls muffled in his pillow, the perfume of sweat crushed into the sheets. Not compliments, so he expects it when you snap, “Jesus, shut up.”

Alright, he will. It’s easy enough when he’s face deep in pussy. He even gets back to flirting with the kind of sex you’re used to—slapping your cunt wetly.

Two times is all it takes. Two vulgar hits and you’re crumbling as you come.

There’s a thin gloss of satisfaction covering your entire body when Bucky pulls you into his lap, marveling at your glazed eyes so different than how they usually look when the two of you fuck. Limp legs rearrange themselves around his waist. You hiss when he slides two fingers inside.

You’re always wet, but he’s drenched down to his wrist. It’s good-new. It’s wrong-new—but could he get used to this? Could he? Was Sam right? About not fucking your friends? His thoughts are backfiring, signals getting crossed just like he was warned—ah shit, what’s he gonna do about this?

“Oh,” you mewl, astonished, rocking gently with this guidance of his hands. You claw at his chest and back weakly, moaning, “Buck…” His name overruns out of your tipsy hot mouth, “Bucky…” Again, and it makes his cock throb.

He moves carefully, taking a long look at you. He can make out most of your expression, gazing at him like a blooming flower, asking to be touched, to be felt, to be drank from. He’s scrambled the entire thing, tuned into a different frequency, a molten heat seeping from his chest, warming him everywhere.

“Baby,” you say, and it’s not teasing like how it was intended before. “Bucky, baby,” and he’s rushing to fuck you—really fuck you. Get in deeper than he’s ever had, find the truth of it, the wet hot core of it, marvel at it like how he really wants.

He was wrong. Regular Friday, regular rough sex, regular – anything. He’s been robbing himself of these pretty sounds and this side of you and this side of himself, too.

Being animals allows little time for tenderness. It’s all instinct and reflex. This is close to bliss.

You cling to him like he’s the last tether to your world, gripping his skull, pushing him into your chest where he buries his face.

“Baby,” he tests its letters, and says it again.

He slows down, lashes fluttering, pulling you further into him until it’s indistinguishable where either of you end, aching and pulsing.

“Let me come in you,” he whispers, “Can I?” He’s done it before, many times, but the way he asks this time makes you whimper. “I want to,” he says again, “Want to come in you. Want to give it to you.”

You only nod, touching your forehead to his lovingly. He slips his tongue between your teeth, kisses you long, losing his edges when he burst apart in your arms.

He lays you both down on the crumpled blanket, reaching for each other in the aftermath, breathing slow and deep. He’s sticky with all sorts of fluids, that tangy heady smell hovering like fog. Embarrassingly dirty but doesn’t feel the need to run to wash off yet. He feels cleaner, even.

“That was…” you trail off, turning your head toward him.

“Yeah.”

It’ll be a conversation for another time. Not yet.

Instead, he squeezes your hand and announces petulantly, “Nailed… you.”

It takes a few seconds for you to understand, and he watches the array of expressions cross your face— a scrunch of a wet brow, swollen lips pursing up in confusion— before you sock him in the chest. Hard.

“Little fucker,” you huff, miffed, afterglow still bright on your cheeks. And then quickly, before Bucky can make any other funny comments, you shove a pillow over his laughing face.