#which to be clear has to be a favorite MINOR character like minor enough that a casual fan wouldnt know who youre talking about

[eskildit]

a nice thing about the locked tomb series is that there are so many characters and plenty of minor background ones which means you can have a locked tomb glup shitto. mine is kiana, camilla’s older half sister <3

[neoplatinum]

in sickness and in health - the finale | minatozaki sana

summary: it's time to face the two demons that lurk in the shadows

pairing: heiress!sana x reader

themes: blood, murder, gore, knives, kidnapping, assassins, katanas, arranged marriage au, fluff, angst, tension, lots of elitism, conglomerate power-hungry side characters, implied sex, misamo!

wc: 7.2k

(series masterlist)

index finger tracing along the scarred name, you stare into the open garden. the sound of a bamboo fountain trickling water, light sounds of wind passing by, hitting the wind chimes in the distance. 

the warm air making your forehead sweat, there’s an unsettling feeling in your chest. a feeling you haven’t been able to put at ease for months. waking up from dreams of the abe brother’s killing your family. 

after the abe ball, you took it upon yourself to do intensive research on their family clan. the history and intertwining of the two families like twin snakes. every generation there’s been an increasing tension between the minatozakis and the abes.

sana’s mother was married into the minatozaki family, much like you. a woman with a strong vision for the family, taking the power in stride. increasing the stretch of the power across industries, a move in which made the abes unhappy. there’s always been territory boundaries, unmoving and untouched for decades, no one crosses it.

sana’s mother crossed it. 

taking over minor territories of the abe clan in japan: a means of expansion. one that the abe’s didn’t take lightly too. the abes took it upon themselves to kill momo and mina’s father. 

a clear sign of distaste for the minatozakis, nearly sparking war between the two conglomerate powers.

which was why sana was set to marry kaito abe. a negotiation of peace and a possible united front against the smaller clans who were itching to take over whichever was killed off. 

sometimes you stare at her, eyes just capturing her, wondering about the woman that you now devoted your every breath to. 

there’s a shift, ever since the ball, she’s gone out less. more need to be around haruto and hanako. even spending days with you in office. she delivered an armchair into your office, to be placed near you while you work.

“it’s getting windy, let’s head back inside.” sana taps you, you take one final look over the garden before picking up a giggling hanako. grabbing at your ears and pulling at it. 

haruto runs ahead, feet taking off ever since he found his own speed. running down bridges of the minatozaki estate.

his little feet lead him in front of sana’s mother. her eyes warm and inviting as she crouches down to pick him up. his grabby hands picking at the flower tucked in her breast pocket. 

she looks so different like this. a woman who can kill as easily as she breathes. 

but she’s so gentle with haruto and hanako, a real grandmother at times. the way she often visits, dropping everything to babysit them. 

but she also comes to talk to you. sometimes you feel like she’s been watching you, the way you now try to take in her footsteps. to take over the family name, one that you didn’t want to bear in the first place. 

that’s all this was supposed to be, a convenient enough marriage that was backed by the minatozaki power. you get to expand your business and lead your father’s, but now you stand, as a pawn. 

likely the next leader of the clan.

hushed conversations in your office, her plans for the clan, molding you into another her. a vision she has long wanted, one that she didn’t want to force upon sana. but seeing your ambitious streak with your business, she knows you have the strength.

you just wonder if you can live up to the expectations.

--

“what do you make of the abe clan?”

“kaito and kenji. vicious, brutal, psychotic, narcissistic.” “right, what else?” she continues to take light sips of her sencha. you bought her favorite kind. 

“birds, sana told me about killer birds.” and she nods. the abe’s are like crows, hiding amongst the shadows, swarming together for the kill. it’s so obvious why they chose killer crows. 

those glossy beady black eyes, always monitoring. 

like a 24/7 surveillance system.

“what about their vulnerabilities?”

you sit and think about the brothers, both so obsessed with murder and blood. hands probably holding the blood of ten of thousands of cronies. 

you learnt of the aftermath of the watanabe, being dissolved like they never existed. their territories and power being absorbed by smaller groups clans. the whole family house being burnt to the ground. 

it was a horrifying sight on the news, covered up under the guise of an electrical fire. 

“i’m not sure.” sana’s mother stares at you, an eyebrow raised.

“who’s at the top?” she asks. setting down the cup of tea.

there’s no one at the top, that seat has been vacant for years. following the sudden death of their father, both brothers have been leading the clan.

some underground bosses have speculated that the brothers killed their own father. sent him to early retirement for the top seat. 

you can’t tell if it’s true, or worse, who did it.

“it’s just the two brothers.” you comment.

“two leaders, as brothers. a clan of that size and prestige is unheard of, i think they’ll kill each other before this year ends.” she sits backwards, leaning against the cushion.

“likely, they’re both too greedy.” you also sit back, thinking about the two brothers. the horrors that happened that night, their eyes filled with pleasure at the killings. 

delight flowing through them at the attention.

that night you returned from the abe ball, you had to hold sana, her just sobbing into your chest. making you bring haruto and hanako into the bedroom. 

her hands shaking as she held haruto and hanako. giving them little kisses as she hugged them close.

you hope to never see her so distraught again.

“do you know why you were chosen, to marry sana?” sana’s mother stands up, grabbing a folder from her drawing. unraveling the string, and taking out the contents.

“no, i don't.”

“you and sana grew up around each other. i had always known your father, he used to be an associate of the minatozakis. he was too greedy and unstable, and i always assumed that he would never amount to much. but you, you were different.” 

she starts showing you photos of you by your father’s side. small and young, without a clue in the world, just anger. 

anger for something that was truly yours, one that wasn’t from your father.

“attended the same law school as sana, but you took your work seriously. devoting years to your business, i always kept tabs on you.” 

she says, showing pictures of you during law school, in the background of sana’s photos. always there in the frame, just barely noticeable. 

“all the heirs were power hungry, but they didn’t have a driving force. nothing to prove, all handed luxuries on a golden spoon.”

“you worked for your place in the world, and that i can admire. you remind me of my young self. when i married sana’s father, i acted much like you did. dismissive towards the minatozakis, until i had sana. she was the most precious thing to me, someone i had to protect.” 

she says, handing you photos of a young sana, in her pretty dress and fake tiara. you smile at the sight, you remember often seeing her dressed up as a princess.

“i knew when i chose you, that you’d be loyal to sana, you have honor and duty in you, you can’t learn that. but this family and the clan, all of that you can learn.” 

she says pointing around the room, and you think of how much you’ve changed. taking the leading stance on propelling the power of the clan.

“i understand.” you say, taking a look at all the photos laid out, you at different points of your life. a whole different you that wanted nothing to do with the minatozakis or any clan for the matter.

“when kazuki abe murdered mamoru, we assumed that they were going to kill off the rest of the minatozakis. but then we negotiated that sana would marry kaito.” she says pointing to a marriage contract. you stare at it, the wild lines of kaito’s signature.

“but then kazuki died suddenly, of a heart attack, they said. kaito was scrambling for the marriage. wanted to marry sana immediately, move up the marriage.” 

“i told them that sana was set to marry someone else, this was a chance to change her fate.” she says, thinking back to when you were delivered a marriage contract.

“they lost their minds, swearing up and down that they were going to kill us for breaking the negotiations. but they had no leader, their father was dead, and they didn’t know how to wield the abe power. foolish little boys in dressed up suits.” 

you nod.

“but now, i see kazuki in them both, ruthless and killer minded. that’s all they care about, killing those that stand in their way. i don’t even think kaito cared about marrying sana, was more concerned that she defied the negotiation.” 

of course that’s where their priorities lied.

“do you understand now?”

“yes, mrs. minatozaki.”

“none of that, call me mom, you’re as much of my child as sana is.” she says, standing up, grabbing her cup of tea with her. you stand up as well.

“oh also, sana chose you because she thought you were captivating. her words, not mine.” and then she leaves with a grin.

-- 

“go go go!” little haruto points at the kite in your hand, the wind blowing your hair back. he jumps and claps as you run around the field, letting the koinobori kite fly into the sky. 

the orange and red fish flying in the sky. 

his laughs filling the air as the fish continues to weave through the sky. moving across the field as more string unravels from your kite.

“you having fun?” sana shouts as she walks up to you, hanako in her arms as she reaches out towards you. pulling your daughter into your arms.

“mhm, haruto is really happy.” he continues to run across the field, chasing the kite closely.

“she’s getting bigger.” you comment, bouncing hanako on your hip. handing the kite to sana. the fish flying up high. she stares at the fish in amazement, whining to reach out for it, trying to get out of your arms.

“isn't she? she might have my eyes.” sana comments, moving the kite to the other side, haruto cheering as he runs towards the other end of the field. you think they look like sana's too. ones that you used to look at as kids.

“what did you and my mom talk about.”

“talking about the abes. i learned why she chose me to marry you.” you say, trying your best to keep hanako in your arms. “didn’t know you had the hots for me even then.” you smirk.

“oh you wish!” she says, a light pink dusting on her cheeks.

“i think you said i was ‘captivating’ or am i wrong?” you laugh as sana refuses to look at you. too busy trying to wipe the smile off her face.

“you’ve gotten so cheeky lately.” you just smile at her, giving her a kiss. and you’re back to watching haruto running across the field.

--

you continue to sink into the water, letting the water move you around a bit. taking deep breaths as you dump more water across your arms. the large stones forming a barrier from the outside. lately you’ve been finding yourself more lost in your thoughts, thinking about how to best move forward.

what is your purpose now as a minatozaki?

without a doubt, you want to raise haruto and hanako properly, not letting them see the dark side of this family. they deserved a healthy childhood, one in which you and sana will foster their future. no matter what they decide.

but what about the other threats, smaller clans all itching to get a piece of the empire. you think about sana’s mother, how strong willed that woman is. wielding the entire empire in her hands, and expanding it to what it is now. 

“what are you thinking about?” sana walks across the wooden boards, just to the edge of the spring. holding out her hand, you hold yours up as she takes a dip, her feet hitting the water and sitting next to you. you give her hand a kiss, before sitting closer to her.

“how lucky i am to marry you.” you say earnestly. days of the past before sana were filled with work and sleep. you rarely enjoyed yourself then. head down in paperwork after paperwork. now you get to experience life with the most beautiful woman in your life, along with two lovely kids.

“i feel the same.” she says, grabbing your hand again, tracing along the knuckles. she stills for a second before continuing, “you know how i was supposed to marry kaito?”

you nod, feeling a sharp distaste just at the name. 

“i never loved him, and i knew i couldn’t be his wife. he would have killed me at some point, i think after mother dies.” his willingness to usurp the minatozakis is obvious, he would’ve killed the entire family if it meant being able to absorb the power that the minatozakis had.

“so i’m glad that you agreed to marry me.” she says, leaving feather-light touches across your palm. you kiss her forehead. letting her lean across your shoulder.

“me too darling.” 

she gets up, pulling her hair off to the side. exposing her back. a long winding gorgeous blue and gold dragon across it. the tail winding down her spine and the tail ending near her tailbone. a full back piece, coloring her back in vibrancy. red clouds surrounding the dragon, wrapping in the curve of her back.

you trail your finger down the body of the dragon, feeling her shudder at the sensation. it’s a beautiful piece, adorning her back. with her gorgeous figure, you can’t help but admire her. everything that sana is and will be, you love every aspect.

“you’ve always liked this piece so much.” she comments, as you lift your finger. she turns around, pulling herself onto your lap. legs laid against yours. 

“because you are gorgeous sana.” grabbing her lightly by the neck and pulling her in for a kiss. naturally, she lays her arms on your shoulder. “my gorgeous gorgeous girl.”

“yours.”

- -

“repeat that for me.” you stand up, watching sana’s mother continue to sit at her desk. pacing a bit as she continues to read down from the reports.

“the abe’s are trying to stage a coup.” she comments, reading the written report. “sent assassins to kill momo and mina, ‘finishing what they started’ they said.” you begin to bite your nail, they’re making moves now. “sent over a hundred of their foot soldiers to their sleeping quarters. momo and mina tore them all apart, but they’re recovering now, heavy injuries.”

you look at the pictures, bruised ribs, cuts along their arms and torsos. momo looks more bandaged from the sight of the photos. both of them sleeping in the minatozaki private hospital.

“you think they’ll come for us next?” you take a step away from the desk, thinking about sana. this is the last thing she needs, bad dreams of the abe brothers plaguing both your minds. now this threat is far more present, they intend to finish off killing off momo and mina, after the abe’s killed their father: mamoru minatozaki.

“yes.” she says, continuing to examine the report, reading down the lines. attacks made dead in the night, but momo and mina’s alert senses pulled them out of their sleep early enough for them to grab weapons to defend themselves. “likely soon.”

you let out a sigh, it seems the darkness is looming closer. some days when you’re outside you spot crows along tree branches, those same beady eyes from the abe manor. all ready to dive and kill at a moments notice. perhaps the abe’s have been monitoring your behavior as well.

“be prepared, the next line of minatozakis all depends on you.” sana’s mother stands up, eyes a little harder than usual as she exits her office. you look back at the photos of momo’s injuries. the bruises, the black eye, the gash along her forehead. mina got off a little easier, she’s more evasive than momo, but she looks pretty beat up too, leg in a cast.

--

“you look like shit momo.” you stare at her body, the bruising has faded a bit, leaving a yellow-ish green color along her ribs. the low sound of the machines running in the background. mina gave you a weak wave as she continues to read her book.

“i still look better than you, dipshit.” you grin, momo having enough energy to still insult you means she’s still herself. and for that you are grateful. you place the fruit basket onto her bedside table. 

“you still doing the exercises i taught you?” she says, pushing herself up with some difficulty. you pull the pillow up to support her back as she leans against the wall. 

you nod, that’s all you’ve been doing lately. training for hours, that you completely lose track of time. sometimes sana scolds you for not picking up her calls, walking into the weight room herself to take off your headphones. training for what, you aren’t even sure. maybe the looming threat of the abe’s has made you paranoid.

“momo, i came to ask you about the abe’s.” mina puts her book down gently, tabbing it before closing it. and momo crosses her arms. both of them staring at you.

“what do you want to know?”

“what happened that night? i want to know from the source.” you explain.

momo lets out a sigh while mina stares outside the window.

“they sent assassins, it was an open-contract just for that night, whoever takes blood gets the pool of money. meaning any assassin could take on the job, they wanted us both dead. didn’t matter how. so roughly 100 assassins or so, all swarming our house, they all came.” she explains.

“many of these assassin we both know personally, i think the abe’s weren’t serious about wanting us dead. i think this was just a warning to sana’s mother. that they’re coming for her.” momo says, and mina nods lightly. 

“the abe’s are killers, they would never send assassins as proxies if they actually wanted us dead.” mina explains. the abe brothers are known for keeping a public record of every person they have killed, a competition to see which brother has a higher kill count.

“doesn’t mean that this was any easier though.” momo says as she tries to rotate her shoulders. you nod, the abe’s are psychotic killers and calculating while at it.

“the abe’s only kill with their knives, it’s like an extension for their bodies. it’s how they were trained, one blade for the rest of their lives. all the abe’s have to use that same knife to take their own life, or else their death is considered shameful. they won’t get an abe burial if they let anything else kill them.” mina says with finality.

--

sana has been pacing like crazy the past few days, her uneasiness continuing to spread through to you. she’s been so anxious since momo and mina nearly got killed. 

some days she’ll stay in the nursery for hours, just spending time with haruto and hanako. or if they’re asleep, she’ll visit momo and mina in the private hospital. you can see how she’s losing sleep over this, eyes wide as she explains how scared she is that everyone will die in front of her eyes. much like what happened to the watanabes.

you don’t even know how to console her at times, just letting her tears continue to stain your clothes as she cries. often coming back from the hospital with hollow eyes.

you’ve stepped up security, placing more security measures around the manor, cameras, guards, even sensors. anything that’ll give you the upperhand against these vicious brothers.

but there’s been radio-silence, nothing to report.

and that makes you antsy, you feel like they’re plotting their next attack against your family but like a lost detective, there’s no conclusive evidence. forced to feel like this threat is a phantom, that it doesn’t actually exist at all.

sana’s mother has taken it upon herself to visit often for her grandkids, a second set of eyes that’ll be ready to jump at the scene. there’s still this trained calmness in her, one that won’t act rashly when provoked. she’s been through hell and back for this clan, and she won’t let these brothers provoke her.

--

“so they stopped sending you sunflowers?” sana asks as you stare at yesterday’s flowers. it’s a bit strange, for the past month, the flowers always arrive exactly at noon, no earlier, and no later. 

it’s also a strange flower to gift. 

“yeah, just today.” there’s never a post card or anything, but with how work has been booming you’re sure it’s just a pleased shareholder expressing their happiness. sana continues to examine the flowers, eyeing them closely, checking the vase for anything special.

“do you even like sunflowers?” she asks.

“no, not really, which is why i’m confused.” you explain, also examining the flower. the yellow petals bloomed around the disk florets. you’ve been asking shoko to figure out who the sender is, but the flower delivery is always anonymous.

sana nods, as she sits down near you, pulling out a magazine. you continue to thumb through the financial report you’ve been sent. great projections for the third quarter.

then shoko runs into the room.

“emi just called, they took haruto and hanako.” shoko shoves the phone forward, you take it out of your hand, putting it against your ear.

“emi, emi, can you hear me?” you shout into the phone, your blood pressure rising.

“they took them!” emi’s anxious voice squeaks through the speakers, her frantic voice as you hear footsteps all in the back. sana’s by your side, staring at the phone as her eyes go dark.

“who’s they?” you ask, grabbing your stuff, as shoko keeps the door open. you and sana take off, running down the hallway towards the elevator. background noise continuing to playthrough the speakerphone. you and sana keep sharing looks of panic, you can feel her shaking. 

“the abe’s, the abe’s took them. both the brothers are here.” emi continues to speak, her voice getting quieter and quieter. you grab sana’s hand as you both race down the stairwell. rushing into the parking lot, handing sana the phone as you both take off. 

“emi, do you know where they took them?” sana’s voice is on the verge of sobbing, tears flowing down her face. she continues to shake in the passenger seat, you offer your hand, as you speed out of the garage, and take the shortest road towards the manor.

“i-i don’t know miss sana.” emi’s voice cuts off and then you hear a scream, nearly stopping the car. your ears listening to the scream of emi, and then it goes silent. sana’s gripping on your hand the tightest she ever has.

then there’s a crackle before a voice comes through.

“hello darling, missed me?” the voice of kaito abe, directly reverberating around the car. sana squeezes your hand. you focus on driving as fast as you can, weaving through cars and traffic, all aimed at reaching towards your kids.

“kaito, you took my kids!” she shouts into the phone.

“oh don’t be like that darling, you know i would never actually kill them. such precious little things.” his laughter ringing out, him placing the phone directly at your kids’ mouths. their wails and cries coming through the phone.

“now, let’s get to the fun part!” his laughter coming back, you’re nearing the house. “come to us! we’ll be waiting.”

sana’s crying, her tears rolling off the phone screen, and you stop hearing anything, the ringing sound in your ears. your blood running through you like a waterfall. the thumping of your chest clambering out of your body, a desperate need to calm down. 

the adrenaline that rushes through you, you press the gas pedal harder, the thought of losing your kids killing any other thought that dares to sprout within your mind.

“before i forget! i left little gifts for you! sunflowers, very fitting, since hanako means flower child and haruto means sun. i thought you would figure it out!” his voice comes back, the ringing continuing to play with his voice.

that fucker is getting what’s coming to him.

then the line hangs up. 

you speed into the manor. outside in the lawns are lifeless bodies, all their blood staining the grass red. a massacre of minatozaki mercenaries taken out by the hands of the abes. tire marks against the ground. 

you hastily put the car in park, throwing the door open as you race to the door, it’s all ransacked. the house, nearly flipped over. deep gashes on the family portrait hung on the wall. both your and sana’s face cut from the painting. sana chases after you, her body still shaking as she examines the room around her. running straight for the nursery. 

you stop when you get inside, it’s not flipped over like the rest of the house, but both children are missing. where haruto usually sits to draw, his chair is flipped over. and hanako who likes to stand in her crib is nowhere to be seen. sana hasn’t noticed, but emi’s been murdered. her blood staining the carpet. you cover her eyes, as you lead her outside.

the absolute anger and venom coursing through your body, you reach the door. 

you get a ring from your phone. 

his voice through your ears, “if you’d like your kids back, come to the abe house alone, let’s talk.” it’s oddly normal, not his usual humored voice. almost like a friend calling. you shudder at how quick he can change himself.

“deal.”

you speed away from the manor.

--

you roll your car into the abe mansion, seeing the same red walls and dark red crest across the main entrance. a sigh leaving your lips. you weren’t really thinking when he called, and now you’re here, at the doorsteps of the abes. they could kill you right here and that would be it for you.

but your conviction to save your kids is stronger, the need to kill kaito and kenji for messing with your kids. 

parking your car in the garage, there’s no guards around. it’s too quiet, almost like something’s wrong here. you can even hear the garden running in the background.

you step into the same tunnel where you once walked through with sana. there’s no line of birds up top, also strange. like a chill up your spine, and soon you arrive inside the main hall. the same hall that was the death place of the watanabes. it’s completely empty, the decorations are still around. but without the guests, it’s just a giant room filled with war artifacts/

you keep walking through the hallways, until you reach a smaller room, much smaller. with it’s door open. and inside you can hear some light music playing. the sight of kaito and kenji abe sitting in two chairs, no guards around either. 

just them two and behind them your kids. little haruto and hanako hugging each other in the corner. haruto’s fearful eyes as he sees you, running towards you with tears in his eyes.

you rush to pick him up, while the two brothers eye you. unmoving as you grab hanako as well. placing them behind you. staring at them two. their hands spinning their twin tantos in their hands. you don’t say anything, rubbing hanako’s hair lightly as you set her down behind you. 

“take a seat.” you sit down across from the brothers. both of them adorning their family crest, kaito’s lips are curled into a smile, while kenji has a bored look on his face.

“why did you take my kids?” you ask, continuing to keep hanako in your arms. rocking her slightly, while haruto peers from behind the chair. still scared out of his mind.

“just for fun!” kaito says as he offers a lollipop to hanako, you push it away. watching the way he laughs out in amusement.

“you minatozakis are always so stuck up.” he says, placing the lollipop down on his desk. kenji continues to flip the tanto in his hand. you can feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. it’s still too quiet, where is everyone.

“i wanted to meet my replacement in person.” kaito explains. “needed to see sana’s plaything in person.”

kenji rolls his eyes. you continue to let your eyes drift to and from the two brothers, attune to each subtle movement. “well i’m here now, what do you want from me?”

“i want you to beg, beg for your life.” he says, knife pointed at your head. you look around you, any sign of escape. the door’s still open for some reason. you stare at him, body unmoving in the chair. hands cupped around hanako’s ears. she sinks her head into your chest, completely unmoving.

“beg?” you ask.

“yes, beg for your life! you minatozakis always just take what you want. took away from my father’s empire, that silly old lady. so my father killed one of yours.” he says, pointing to a plaque. 

engraved towards the middle is ‘mamoru minatozaki’, a list on names stretching down the plaque. all of them kills by the abes, when and who.

it’s sickening to see.

“so beg, beg for forgiveness, beg for salvation, beg for escape. because you just walked into the abe mansion like a fool.” kaito stands up, his knife back towards you, you place hanako into haruto’s arms. 

his eyes filled with tears as he begs for you to hold him. you give them both forehead kisses as he cries with his sister in his arms. 

you beg that they don’t see what you do.

you stand back up, slipping the tanto from your waistband. unsheathing it and rolling it in your hands. taking off the blazer you had on, and rolling your sleeves up.

“oh a branded one too!” kaito laughs out pointing at your forearm, you pay him no mind as he continues to laugh. “you’ve got some fight in you?”

you just nod, getting into a defensive stance, keeping your left fist leveled. as he advances forward. kenji’s still sat playing with the knife in his hand. marveling the sharp edge, while kaito’s got bloodlust painted all over his face.

he advances forward, faking a stab at your left side, the feint doesn’t bother you one bit, using the leverage to stab at his left side as well. letting your power move with your body, nearly cutting into his jacket. to which he claps at the sight, a strange man he is.

“keep going, keep going!” he exclaims, clearly getting excitement from the taunts that you are exhibiting. you begin circling him, clearly he’s excited, letting the stabs continue. you continue to flip the dagger in your hand, he lands a slash against your cheek and against your shoulder. 

kenji hasn’t even moved an inch, his finger still grazing along the edge. you feel your blood pump faster, clenching your jaw as you grip the blade harder. letting a charged attack aiming for his neck, and at the last second letting the blade slice down his body.

he cheers unexpectedly, clapping with his hands. you continue to let your eyes move from him and his brother. confused with the lack of action from kenji.

“you know how to fight! i like when my prey fight back, it’s more fun that way.” he says, changing his smile from amusement to pleasure-filled. his stance getting lower, you feel yourself getting nervous. you don’t know what he’s trained in before.

he nearly lunges at you, an unexpected speed, you dodge the attack with your arms, his knife digging into your skin. and then he pulls it back out. eyes ablaze as he continues to try and aim for your head. you narrowly dodge each attack, and with each attack, he gets faster and faster. 

you let him stab his knife into your shoulder, as you stab the knife deep into his stomach. staring at him centimeters away. the way his eyes roll at the pain, he’s a masochist. entertained by his own pain, and others. you let the knife continue to sink into him being pulling it back out. 

the blood pooling from his shirt, dripping onto the ground. his knife stuck into your shoulder. he grabs a longer blade off a shelf, you stumble backwards a bit. the pain of the shoulder making you hold onto his blade. better to keep it in, than to let it bleed out. 

his eyes gleaming with joy as he wields a katana now in hand, you stare at it, watching the way he moves his grip, adjusting it. all the while kenji steps near him, eyes squinted as he watches his brother wield a katana.

you heave a bit, your left shoulder feeling weak from the knife lodged within. you back up a bit as they both share a look, both their eyes wild, but for different reason.

you put your right arm up, readying yourself for an attack from them both, 

but then it turns into a bloodfest.

kenji, in a quick rotating turn, grabs the katana straight from kaito’s hands and stabs the long katana into his brother. cutting through him in the chest. his brother’s eyes go wide. 

“you, you, you!” kaito’s hands fly towards the katana trying to pull it out, kenji only stabs it into his body further.

“any last words brother?” kenji lets out a little smile, as kaito falls backward his hand outreached towards kenji, blood gurgling in his mouth. his body going limp on the floor.

kenji then he turns to you. 

“thank you for that, let’s let the real fun begin.” he says, pulling the katana out of his brother’s now lifeless body. all the while you’re trying to make sure that none of your kids are seeing this brutal scene, you can hear their small cries.

he crosses the room in a few steps, trying with all his force to slam the katana over your head, you hold with everything in you against it, fighting it with ever muscle fibers in your body. being brought abruptly with the downwards force of his slash. 

knees nearly buckling under the force. he continues to drive the katana deeper, you barely hold on, begging for something to hold.

letting the sweat continue to bead across your forehead, calves and thighs straining in pressure, and at last he lets go. a short knife sent straight at his heart. his eyes nearly bulging out as he grasps onto his shirt, his heart bleeding out. and you collapse onto the ground. 

the adrenaline pumping through your body, and all the pain of the fight coming back to feeling. you stare at the ceiling as people start piling in. you roll your head over, the sight of the minatozaki crest upon the back of the people. 

one in particular sticks out, sana’s mother. taking the knife from his heart and stabbing into it once more. “i pity you abe boys, killing one of your own.” she says before taking the knife out once more.

“take the kids away.” you put your hand up, and immediately the guards back up. you roll your head the other way, beckoning the kids forward. haruto wailing as he falls atop your body, and little hanako staring straight at you, before joining her brother.

you smile at them both, caressing their faces, giving them kisses as tears fall down your face. they’re okay, they’re safe.

you can feel the exhaustion finally seeping in, continuing to brush their hair out their face. as your eyes roll back, and then you’re out.

--

your eyes open to the bright light of the hospital room, one that you previously were in for momo and mina. the windows are open, a slight wind blowing against the curtains. a bunch of fruit baskets laying at the table near your feet. clearly you’ve had some visitors.

mouth drier than a desert as you try and grab a glass of water nearby. your whole body hurts, every part of it hurts. you grunt a bit reaching the full glass, getting some needed hydration.

and this searing headache that you can feel isn’t making it any better. you try your best to look around, vision still a bit blurry. then they refocus on a figure in the chair near you.

sana’s here.

you blink a few more times, eyes getting sharper, until you can see her features clearly. it’s a gorgeous sight after nearly being killed. although she looks mad at you, her eyes in fury. the same fury you saw when she found out you had her tailed.

she stares at you, getting up when she notices you’re awake, towering over you.

“you idiot!” she shouts at you. tears in her eyes already, you try your best to move but everything hurts so much.

“sana. please.” you raise your hand, outreached towards her. she storms out of the room, the door slamming open as she rushes outside. 

then sana’s mother enters the room. a limping momo trailing behind her. both women rounding the side of the bed that sana was in seconds ago. sana’s mother doesn’t display much emotion, but momo seems rather amused.

“sana’s furious, swore she would kill you if you died to the brothers.” she explains, her hands folded behind her as she stares at your patient monitor, a small smile on her hand. “you did well kid.”

“doesn’t seem like it.” you say, feeling the pain of your left shoulder still burning. a searing pain even as you try and relax. she shakes her head no, momo’s staring at your bandaged body. your injuries much like hers, minus the bruised ribs. to which you have to be thankful for. you think back to the room, how dark it was in their study. the sight of your kids cowering in fear deep in the back corner of the room, their small eyes staring at you in relief when they saw you enter.

you hope they never remember this event, and most of all that they didn’t see anything.

you know that you’ll forever live with this memory, the scars, the bloodshed, the pain. all of it will live through you and hopefully only you. a reason that you went straight for the abe brothers, without giving sana a chance to even follow. you don’t want her to deal with the repercussions of the deaths that were bound to happen. to put ease into her mind, you would shoulder the world for her.

a true testimony of your devotion to sana.

“you did it for sana, didn’t you?” 

momo’s words bring you out of your thoughts, and you nod, because it’s true. sana is everything and more, someone that you find yourself leaning on when things get rough. you want her to never experience the sights of the killings. those night terrors were enough to snap you awake, you feel protective of her. wanting her peace to remain for however long she lives.

“she called me and mina up, begging us with her snotty voice to save you.” momo says, a little too serious for your taste. “she begged, sana is not one to beg. she loves you as much as you love her.” 

“i know.” 

momo rolls her eyes.

“what i’m trying to say is, despite how mad she may be at you, she loves you, even this part of you that wants to shoulder all her burdens.” momo explains. and you listen intently. 

“when she told me that you were going to marry her, i always wondered why. but now i know, you mean every word you say. there’s no games with you. in this world, all there is are games, everyone has their motives, their greed, their lust. but you speak from the heart, and that’s all sana wants, someone genuine. their love as obvious as their words.”

you nearly choke up at the words, it’s a feeling that you’ve been thinking about lately. ever since sana’s mother explained why she chose you (sana as well). 

“thank you momo.” and with a small nod she leaves the hospital room.

you feel like you haven’t deserved the love that sana gives you, as much as you want to. just not understanding why, but it’s clear, even in this dark and cruel world that you’ve been married into.

you sob openly, just letting the tears of everything that’s been building up in you fall like flowing feelings. all the pain and suffering of being married into this family, the strange stares from outsiders. enduring the rigorous training from momo and mina all in order to become someone strong enough for this family, all those nights you had to hold a crying sana.

--

“you are an absolute idiot.” you get wheeled outside, sitting in your hospital gown as you get placed next to sana’s bench. there’s tears still in her eyes, and she refuses to look at you.

“i know, i’m sorry.” you respond.

“what if you died? what if they killed you and the kids? what am i supposed to do then?” she exclaims, tears gushing from her eyes. tissues in her hands as she stares at them.

“i, i don’t know. i didn’t think that far. i just knew i had to save them.” you explain, trying your best to not pick at the IV needle. 

“i should kill you myself, sending yourself on a suicide mission.” she bites out, an anger you haven’t heard in months. you just nod letting her continue to talk. “i stayed outside, momo holding me back. and then i saw haruto running towards me, tears in his eyes.”

you nod, feeling a deep shame running through your body, hoping that he didn’t see anything.

“he just kept saying you saved him and hanako, i thought you died in there. but you didn’t. you didn’t die in there, and you saved them too.”

“i did what i needed to do.” sana continues to speak over you.

“and i’m frustrated, because it should’ve been us saving them together, but you shouldered all my burdens once again. you took on this marriage which saved me from marrying kaito, and you continue to shoulder my burdens even now.”

“because i love you sana.” you declare. “it isn’t a burden to me because i love you. and i always will sana, until death do us part, i promised to love you forevermore, and i choose you as my partner.” you pull yourself in front of her. 

“i want everything with you, even in sickness and in health, all these vows i said during our wedding, i didn’t know it then, but i know it now. i mean every single word!” you cry out.

you stare at her, and her eyes lift up at yours, you wipe the tears off her face. a small smile on her face as she kisses you, even with salty tears rolling down.

--

a/n: the series is finished! hehehee, i left an easter egg!! message me if u figure it out :P, also thank you to the lovely @d3viant0n3 for helping me move this series forward, forever thankful <3 as well as my moots for listening to my troubles w this fic (forgot to mention!! dragon back tattoo is @cry4mina's idea) LOL and as always, stay safe and stay healthy everyone!

[always-andromeda]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ 𝐩𝐥𝐮𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 ୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⟡ Frankie Morales x F!Reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ⟡ 3,038

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ⟡ After recruiting you to be his plus one for yet another wedding, Frankie can't help but ruminate on and regret the last one he brought you to.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ⟡ Hey, Lolabee!! I'm super excited to finally share that I'm your secret Valentine!! I apologize in advance for posting this so late in the game; exam week has been super hectic. That being said, I decided to give myself a little bit of a challenge and write something for Frankie for the first time ever. I should preface this by saying that when I read your prompt for rom-com vibes, I immediately began filing through all of my favorite rom-coms. And since my current favorite is Plus One, this fic is very much inspired by it!! Happy late Valentine's Day!! (dt: @thelightsandtheroses) (divider credits: @cafekitsune)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ⟡ fluff with little bits of angst (regardless, minors, please do not interact), no physical description given to the reader except for the fact that she wears makeup, mentions of alcohol and references to the reader drinking, the slightest references to Frankie's past, this fic is almost entirely removed from the movie's canon (these characters are basically my paper dolls that I'm making do cute things<3), idiots in love, they tease each other, they go to a wedding, misunderstandings occur, but it all works out <3

“You’re bringing your own tissues this time, right?” Frankie called from where he sat at the edge of the bed. He’d slept in far worse places. But he could already feel new knots forming on top of the old ones in his back. Needless to say, he wasn’t looking forward to spending yet another night attempting to sleep on the dense hotel room mattress.

You replied from the bathroom, “Oh, yeah, don’t worry. I’m prepared.”

“You better be. Because you’re not using my tie to blow your nose again.”

If you were in the room, Frankie could’ve practically felt your glare burning a hole through him. But instead he only heard the clear exasperation in your tone when you answered, “I did not use your tie to blow my nose.”

“Might as well have…” he mumbled. Santi’s wedding had claimed that casualty. By the end of the ceremony you’d soaked his tie in tears and covered it with a fine layer of translucent powder from dabbing your face off. And as much as he teased, he hadn’t minded it. He hadn’t minded it any more than he’d minded the distant friends and relatives who’d assumed that you were his girlfriend. Which…wasn’t an insulting assumption by any means.

The next time – at Benny’s wedding – Frankie brought you tissues. He didn’t like to think about Benny’s wedding. But if there was one thing he was happy about, it was that he’d thought far enough ahead to bring them for you. He was glad to see your smile. To feel your arms wrap around him as you thanked him and told him he was such a sweetheart. He was also grateful for the Hawaiian sun; for the developing sunburn that had prevented you from seeing how much that one nickname made his cheeks flush in that moment.

Your head popped out of the bathroom doorway, your makeup only half done, to aim a smartass smile at him with your lined lips. “Hey, I like to think of it as a gift. You should too.”

“Your ability to cry at the drop of a hat?”

“You're damn right,” you said indignantly.

Frankie sighed, pushing his hair back for about the dozenth time. He then laid back on the bed and stared up at the popcorn ceiling. “If we’re lucky, this is the first and last time you’ll need to worry about packing some to begin with. Will’s the last stop on the wedding train.”

The thought almost made him misty eyed. Within a few hours, he’d be the last single man in his crew. The last one awake at the sleepover. Eyes so wide they were practically ablaze staring through the uncertainty of night. Unable to find sleep. Unable to believe he’d ever find it to begin with.

Your voice cut through his trance. “I wouldn’t be so sure. Maybe next year we’ll get an invite for Tom’s second wedding,” you teased. 

Frankie rolled his eyes. At least he could take some sort of comfort in that. Redfly had tried out the whole settling down thing. And it just didn’t work. Frankie wished his buddies well, but he couldn’t help but feel deep down that they’d never be made for domesticity. They weren’t made for teary-eyed speeches and destination weddings. 

“Don’t count on it,” he drawled.

“Don’t count on it,” you mimicked Frankie’s slow, gruff voice which earned a small laugh from him. “I’ll tell you what, I bet you that Ben’s best man speech isn’t going to be nearly as good as Will’s was.”

He attempted to recall what Will had even said only a few months prior. It had to have been good, the man was a public speaker, for Christ’s sake. He guessed, “That one was long, right?”

“Yeah…don’t you remember it? Frankie, were you even there?”

“I was there alright.” He laughed to mask the wince he wanted to let out. Then he cleared his throat, throwing out another vague guess, “But I seem to remember that by the end of it, he needed some damn tissues too.”

“If you had a shithead little brother who managed to get married before he could experience massive head trauma, you’d probably get a little choked up too.” You added more to yourself than to him, “God, Frankie, how do you forget a speech like that? It was fucking beautiful.”

There was a very high likelihood that he had forgotten. Frankie spent almost every day following that entire night trying to forget it. And he wondered how in the world you remembered it either considering how much you’d drank.

If you could remember what Will had said…you should’ve remembered what you’d said too, right? You, standing in the bathroom and observing yourself in the mirror as you combed through your lashes to separate them, had to have known what you said to him that night. Because he knew it. Whether he liked it or not, he had that particular speech memorized with the way it ran through his head.

Frankie had known you were in a tough spot. Hell, it was part of the reason why he’d brought you along; part of the reason why Benny had insisted Frankie take you. 

She just got broken up with, Frankie had tried to reason.

Benny had merely smirked, Which is the exact reason why you should invite her out. Give her a chance to get fucked up. Spend the night with one of the bachelors. It’s the quintessential wedding experience.

Frankie couldn’t have even pretended to mask his disgust at the idea. But he couldn’t lie…bringing you along again sounded leagues above going alone. 

And now, sometimes he wished he had toughed it out instead.

No matter how much he tried to forget, the details always flashed through his mind. The way your fingers ran through his hair. How your touch managed to stay so soft despite how completely out of it you were. But that’s how you’d always been with him. Even at his absolute worst points when he was a less than ideal man, you found some shred of decency inside him that you never hesitated to cradle and nurture.

Maybe that’s what had made those tangles form in his stomach; the idea that he was taking advantage of that kindness.

Because that wasn’t…you. You wouldn’t have done that in your right mind. If your boyfriend hadn’t just broken up with you. If you hadn’t just found out that the entire time Nick had been cheating on you with that woman from accounting in his office. If you hadn’t drank way too much. None of this would be happening if you weren’t at your absolute lowest. 

So he wiped the slate clean. It’d almost always been easy to do that. To simply forget. But he should’ve known better by now. Those things he somehow managed to lock up always found a way to ooze out of the cracks in his facade.

There were a few times Frankie thought you might crack during the ceremony. Especially when Will read out his vows, because of course the guy went the extra mile, delivering them with that stern reverence that made him the kind of guy you wanted on your team. 

But you didn’t cry. This time…you grabbed his hand. It almost didn’t occur to him that you had until Will kissed his now wife and you squeezed Frankie’s hand in excitement. For a moment, he wondered if you’d managed to get a drink in before the ceremony. You couldn’t have; the bar wasn’t supposed to open until afterwards. He knew it couldn’t have been an alcohol induced action but he was still afraid to acknowledge it. 

So he kept as still as possible. Even when the ceremony ended and you began to pull him around the venue. Though he knew his hand was getting clammier with every minute that passed, he let you drag him around the little circles of friends and family of the bride and groom. He had checked out enough that he didn’t quite realize what he’d gotten himself into until you were bringing him to the dance floor and positioning his hands on your hips.

Only when you let go of his hand and placed your own on his shoulders did it strike him how similar this felt to that night at Benny’s wedding.

You spoke like you were treading thin ice. “That speech was…surprisingly alright.”

“And you didn’t cry,” he remarked equally as carefully.

“I didn’t cry!” you exclaimed.

“It would’ve been fine if you had.”

You shook your head, “That wasn’t the kind of speech you cry at. It was simple. Sweet. I liked it. Who would’ve thought Benny’d have it in him, right?”

“So what do you do for that kind of speech?” Frankie asked, raising an eyebrow.

“A polite clap. Maybe a cheer.”

“A cheer? Maybe you should’ve brought your pom poms instead of tissues.”

The way you scrunched up your nose into a playful grimace tugged at his heartstrings. Then you laughed, “Shut up.” God, he loved when you and him fell into this groove. 

So he continued with the bit, “You should get some for Tom’s wedding. The guy deserves a whole damn squad if he gets all tied up again.”

“Thought you said I shouldn’t count on it?”

“If you’re gonna count on anyone getting married soon, it’s better if it was him.” Frankie clicked his tongue, “Not like I’m going off the market anytime soon.”

“Oh, Frankie, stop it.” Your smile dropped ever so slightly, eyebrows turned inward as you gazed at him with something akin to pity or sympathy; he wasn’t sure which was worse. “You have no idea what the future could bring.”

“Not a wedding, that’s for damn sure.”

Your expression only intensified. He recognized it well after the amount of times you’d talked him off a ledge. “You can’t just discount the possibility entirely,” you argued.

“I can and I will,” he said stubbornly.

You were quiet for a few seconds, “So you’re telling me you’ve never thought about it? I mean…who would your best man be?”

“I’m not answering that.”

Your lip quirks to the side of your face as you feign a contemplative look before concluding, “Probably Santi.”

“Look at you, you did it for me,” Frankie deadpanned.

“I could plan the whole damn thing for you, don’t test me.”

“Why’s that?”

This time you pressed your lips together. And Frankie swears he felt you stumble over your own feet ever so slightly; like he’d caught you off guard with the query. “Oh, you know…weddings usually aren’t those things that people are eager to plan.”

“But why would you specifically be planning it? Unless you’re–”

A beat passes before you break out into an incredulous grin. “You’d want me to marry you and plan our wedding? That’s a tall order. I’m afraid you’ll have to pick one or the other, sorry.”

Frankie chuckles. He let the remark pass. He always enjoyed this back and forth. How you and him had always been able to bounce off of each other. It was hard enough keeping up with some of the guys. But keeping up with women was a whole different story. He always seemed to be a few steps behind most of them. For some reason, your pace was just perfect. Your humor, your timing, it all clicked with his personality.

Just like you were prone to doing, you broke the silence with an awkward laugh and big eyes staring right into his. “So…which one do you pick?”

He almost didn’t catch the question; almost didn’t want to. “Hm?”

“Would you rather marry me or have me plan your wedding?” you clarify.

“Come on, you know I’m not answering that.”

And the tide shifted once more. Just as quick as you were to smile, your expression melted into one of muted mortification. Like you’d just tilted your hand a little too far

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you mumbled to yourself. Your hands slid off his shoulders and you wiped them off on your dress before wrapping them around yourself. That was when you retreated, leaving him standing there looking like more of a fool than he ever thought he had.

He stared after you for a few seconds, struggling to process what had just happened when it finally registered.

Soon he was following after you. How you knew to navigate the venue so quickly, he couldn’t be bothered to wonder. All he knew by the time he got to the lobby of the wedding hall was that something was wrong.

He spotted you rushing down the sidewalk as he stepped outside. In all his exasperation, all he could get out was, “Hey, what the fuck?”

The cool night air of the fall settled in and billowed around him like a curse. He wasn’t quite sure if the deep chill that ran down his spine was from the weather or the sight of you turning around, eyes already wet with tears that you were desperately trying to blink away.

Your voice came out hoarse as you shouted back, “You’re asking me what the fuck? No, Frankie, what the fuck is up with you? I kissed you…God…how many months ago? And you don’t say a fucking word. I keep talking about Benny’s wedding and you keep acting like none of it fucking happened.”

Frankie threw his hands up. “You were drunk. I don’t even remember how many fucking drinks you had.”

“I had a couple virgin cocktails,” you scoffed. The admittance wasn’t stubborn. But it did come with a tone of disdain, “I wasn’t drunk.”

“You wouldn’t–” he stopped himself. You wouldn’t have done any of that unless you were drunk.

“You acted like you were drunk.”

You shook your head. “I was having fun. I was with you and I was having fun, you dumbass.” Then you sighed, gaze darting towards the street nervously. “And I woke up the morning after and I thought that…I thought you would’ve at least said something. I thought you would’ve asked me how I felt. I thought you would’ve had the decency to at least check in. But you were just…you were completely fine.”

“I wasn’t fine…”

“And now you want to crack jokes about marrying me?”

Frankie wagged a finger in your direction, an almost childish defense. “You brought that shit up first.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Frankie, that doesn’t matter,” you muttered before raising your voice once more. “What matters is that I kissed you. I looked into your eyes and told you I fucking loved you and you said nothing.”

Hearing your voice say it again, even filled with such frustration, such anguish, he could help the way something fluttered in his chest. And even still, he shoved it down deeper than he ever had before.

“Because I wasn’t going to hurt you the way that Nick did.” He watched your gaze soften. “It would’ve killed me to hurt you like that.”

With the sounds of the city passing you both by, Frankie caught one of the worst sights possible. The tear that rolled down your cheek. And then the few more that followed, all shamelessly continuing their desolate stride down your neck. How you unclenched your jaw and unfolded all of the pain you’d kept since that summer into a few words. “You hurt me worse than Nick ever did.”

Your whole being compacted in on itself once more, recoiling from the vulnerable admission with a breathless conclusion. “Fuck you, Frankie. Fuck you.”

There it all was. And all he could think about was that night at Benny’s wedding. The night you told him you were glad Nick was gone. The night you smiled softly at him, thumb running over his bottom lip as you whispered.

I love you.

They were such fragile words. Words he hadn’t wanted to put any weight on, lest they shatter from beneath him and leave him falling face down in his own hopes. Because a small part of him had almost always hoped it was you. He never let himself truly believe the idea for long. But, God, he wanted to…could he still? He squeezed his eyes shut, holding back his own tears.

“I’m sorry.” His voice trembled in time with his hands. And he’d fully come to terms that it wasn’t just the cool air. He wasn’t a stranger to fearing for his life, with the work he’d once done, it was a given. But this wasn’t that. This was different. It was a fear of something a little more abstract. Because following this risk, there wouldn’t be oblivion. On the other side of his eyelids was a world where you either forgave him or you brushed him away. He certainly believed he deserved the latter with the way he’d been. But he’d never know unless he took the plunge.

When he opened his eyes again again he was grateful to find you still standing in front of him. He wouldn’t let this night steal his courage again. He repeated, voice firmer than before and charged with certainty, “I’m sorry.” Then finally replied, “I love you too. I love you.”

You gave him those hope filled eyes once more. He saw how it slowly morphed into joy; the kind that carried peace. You stepped closer, fingertips brushing against the material of his jacket as you reached for him.

Frankie closed the gap without any hesitation, his own hand moving to cradle your face as he moved in to kiss you. None of his recollections of the first time he’d done it could’ve ever lived up to the second one. There was no dread, no looming guilt, no fear. Only excitement and hope.

“If I could only pick one. I’d marry you. Any day…I’d marry you,” he mumbled against your lips.

You pulled back. And with his eyes still closed, he felt you smile as you answered, “Maybe I’ll ask you again next year. For now, let’s have this.”

“I can handle that,” he smiled then melted into you once more. And already it was something he knew he could easily get used to. Next time you asked, he’d be ready.

[utilitycaster]

You mentioned it briefly a few months ago (but it lives rent free in my head sorry!) that the most popular ship from this campaign has almost only AU fanfics and it's really telling me something about the characters from c3, that there is just really nothing to explore about them.

So here's the thing. I do not think the characters aren't worth exploring! There's been good character work (a lot of which gets ignored, actually, because it's not what many of the people who insist that C3 is their favorite as they slowly turn into a corncob want*; see basically anyone on Twitter about Orym), it's just not central to the plot.

I stand by what I originally said and which was validated at a recent Q&A panel: the cast wasn't told that this was going to be the Moon Plot Campaign (they were just told pulpier and deadlier) and Laura wasn't told that Imogen would be as central a character as she was. So I think we have characters who could have, for the most part, had a character-driven campaign around them, but it became clear relatively early on that this was the Moon Plot campaign and that wouldn't be the focus; and because to get all of his ducks in a row for the Moon Plot Matt had to take a heavier hand with the rails and as a result the party didn't have a ton of bonding time early on because they were always taking NPC missions/being ferried around in an airship with no need for watch conversations, and it's hard to go back and fill in those interactions later, which is why they've sort of fallen out of the habit.

With respect to the ship...the thing is, I genuinely believe it could have been good. The reason I'm not a fan of imo/dna isn't because I think the characters aren't good (well, my feelings on Laudna are documented but I do think Imogen is a great character). It's because, ironically enough, every barrier between them did get removed all too quickly in the service of Cottage Endgame and as a result I think many of the people who wanted that are like "wait...that's it?" Like, the gnarlrock fight fizzled out only for the same conflict to come up briefly with Ishta (swordgate) 70 episodes later and be resolved a day later in-game. When they reunited I was like you know what would have made this good? If Laudna had remained angry in episode 65 and turned Imogen down which Laura 100% expected to happen, because they hadn't talked about this and they were awkwardly trying to deal with unresolved feelings for 30+ episodes and perhaps Laudna actually leaned into Delilah wholeheartedly during that time and realized she had feelings for Imogen after all, while Imogen was simultaneously struggling with that rejection and realizing Laudna was going into a dark place but didn't feel like she could get involved, and they both leaned more (platonically) on other characters and Swordgate was the point where Laudna said "oh no, I'm becoming too much of a problem and I do want Imogen to like me" and the soul anchor felt like a culmination of a deeply felt struggle instead of a quick fix for something that had only inconvenienced her a few times and led to a 20 hour long minor spat at best? If we actually got a fucking slowburn? It would have been great! Turns out if you always go for the instant gratification, it makes for a story without any tension! And now we're watching people who were always clamoring for skipping to the good part realizing that in doing so we skipped all the buildup that makes it the good part. There could have been something to explore. It was not explored.

*I think that there are people who for whatever reason do legitimately prefer Campaign 3 for whatever reasons and are in earnest and this isn't about them. While I don't share their tastes I support them and their feelings; we all have our preferences. This is about the people who are already visibly setting up the groundwork for a dramatic rage quit that will make copious, wildly incorrect use of the term "neoliberal" if the campaign ends with the gods still in place while still insisting this is definitely the best campaign and making absolutely brainless statements about prior campaigns not being as political even though this is the least politically inclined or aware group by a country mile. I think the lesson from the above and from here is that you really cannot have your cake and eat it too.

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Like A Big Girl (Quirkless!Dabi x Black!Fem!Reader 18+ One Shot)

“Take all of me like a big girl, baby.”

Pairing: Quirkless!Dabi x Black!Fem!Reader 

Synopsis: In which you get the surprise of your life when your apartment neighbor and crush (who happens to be extremely anti-social) shows up at your housewarming party to celebrate your moving into your first-ever apartment after a breakup. 

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ One Shot (MINORS GTFO); Non-Quirked; Disfigured!Dabi (he has burn scars); Alcohol Consumption; Marijuana Use; Flirting; Shotgunning; Foreplay; Exhibitionism; Fingering; Cunnilingus; Deepthroating; Loud Sex; Doggystyle; Scar Appreciation; Non-Protective PIV Sex; Creampie; Scent Play/Marking; Spanking; Mild Degradation; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer's Note: WE A COLLEGE GRADUATE BIH!!! I'm so so happy & so excited for the future. Even more for the summertime cuz now I'm free to write! I hope y'all like this one. I needed to write something smutty for my favorite crusty villain. Enjoy & fuck Enji!! -Jazz

**********

You’ve never been so nervous before until you’re sitting on your couch with a lukewarm tequila sunrise, waiting for your guests of honor to arrive. 

Or rather one guest in particular. You know you shouldn’t be at all. You know you should be socializing and talking to the other guests currently occupying your brand-new apartment in celebration of your down payment and a new accomplishment in life.

You should be laughing, joking, and flirting with the fine-ass men that Rumi insisted on bringing with her to help with catering and cleaning before the party started. 

But you just can’t. The motivation to do so isn’t there, and the reason why is embarrassing.

Rumi, who sits next to you on the couch, looks you up and down. Her stark white hair is piled up into a messy bun on her head and the red bodycon dress she chose for tonight hugs her toned body and legs just right. If anyone could get a lay tonight, it’d be her. “You might wanna smile, babe. You’re scaring off your guests.” 

She gives you a cheeky grin as she sips her drink–a whiskey smash. You’re so glad you managed to find a bartender to make drinks for tonight thanks to Keigo knowing him from his job. You’re even happier that your job’s salary allows you to pay him $550 by the end of tonight. 

“Shut up,” you mumble, bumping her with your knee. But even her brash humor doesn’t make you smile an inch. Rumi rolls her eyes and turns to Nemuri, one of your other hot and longtime friends. “Nemuri, please get this girl another drink so she can get up out of this seat,” Rumi sighs. “I’m tired of seeing that face on her face.” 

Nemuri stands from her seat in her sundress and flats, looking like a sexy girl next door. “I’ll get you some water, honey.” She gives you a wink before making a dash to the snack table located in the kitchen, dodging between people and the wafts of marijuana smoke in the air. Just weed. No vapes or E-cigs are allowed tonight which you made clear in your invitations. 

“I don’t have a face,” you grumble, glaring at Rumi. “And I have gotten out of my seat. I’m the host, aren’t I?” 

“Exactly!” Rumi replies. “Which means you should be walkin’ around and hosting. Not sittin’ here, mopin’ about some dickhead and worryin’ if he’ll show up. Plus, you know how men are: they show up when they want to.” 

“Not true,” you scoff. “That’s a fact that is relevant to my ex, but not to every guy in existence.” Even referring to your ex as simply “your ex” is enough to make you want to down the rest of your drink. Not only did you decide to throw this party to celebrate your buying and moving into your first “big girl” apartment as the start of a new chapter of your life, but you also wanted to celebrate being free of the leech you called your boyfriend of three years. 

“And I’m not moping, okay?” you sharply tell Rumi. “I just wanna make sure there are enough champagne flutes and food. If I get new guests, that means I need more, right?” 

Rumi eyes you down, knowing damn well you’re lying through your teeth. “Whatever you say,” she sing-songs. Nemuri returns with the iced water, handing it to you. “Here you are, honey,” she coos. “What are we talking about?” 

Rumi is happy to fill her girlfriend in. “The fact that she’s ready to toss a wedding ring at this man who’s afraid of leavin’ his apartment for groceries. If she says that’s not why she’s got that sour face, she’s lying.” 

“Hey!” you gasp, kicking at her ankle with your heel. “It’s not a lie! It’s the truth! This is the first party I’m hosting and it’s a lot to worry about, especially since it’s my new apartment.” 

At the beginning of the year is when you found your dream apartment complex. It came with a pool, a tennis court, a gym, and a laundry mat along with central air, free wifi, and vending machines. The neighborhood surrounding the complex was quiet at night, noisy with kids in the morning, and nearby a hub of parks, restaurants, and public transportation. It was the perfect place to begin the new chapter of your life. 

And not to mention a man, in particular, you had a slight thing for lives here. So, after putting down a payment, signing papers, and getting help moving in, you were finally living on your own three months later. Only a party could really welcome you into your new four walls.  But so far, you aren’t enjoying it as much as you should be. 

And that’s all because someone you desperately want to see here tonight is missing. 

“And second, Dabi isn’t afraid of leavin’ his apartment, Rumi,” you criticize your friend. “He’s just not a people person.” At least, that’s what Keigo told you when you met Dabi for the first time. “According to him,” he scoffed. “It’s just an excuse to not socialize, really. But he’s always been like that since we were kids.” 

You caught that vibe from Dabi as soon as you met him several years ago before you met your ex. You met Dabi through Keigo when he dragged his friend to a club to meet up with you and Rumi one spring night for happy hour.

You had heard about Dabi many times before–that he’s a firefighter; that he has some dark humor; that he is kinda weird and awkward but still a pretty nice guy (according to Keigo). As soon as you got a look at that black hair, tight tee shirt, and buff arms roped his tattoos, you were entranced by him. Though he seemed somewhat out of place and like he didn’t want to be there, he carried with him an intoxicating aura, like he was your favorite cocktail drink. 

You were so taken aback at how hot he was that you barely noticed the burn scars. He only had them on his face, neck, and snaking up his arm from what you could see–healed yet puffy skin from second-degree burns coat the left side of his face, cascading down his neck to his upper torso and disappearing down his shirt. Though his arm is roped in tattoos, you can see burn scars there too beneath the dark ink. They aren’t as bad as Keigo said they’d be, but they’re not exactly unnoticeable either. 

But when he spoke, all of that went out the window. Keigo had sat him down across from you and Rumi, grinning. “Ladies, meet my friend, Dabi,” he said. “D, this is Rumi and Y/N.” 

“Nice to meet you,” you had politely said, sticking your hand out for him to shake. His crystal blue eyes, so intense yet mysteriously guarded, flitted up to meet yours. He stuck his hand out and took yours, causing your heart to jump at how warm and calloused his palm was. “You too,” he murmured. 

Lord, if you could have sex with a voice, it’d be his. Though it was raspy like he chain-smoked, it was also deep and traveled from your heart right down to your clit which jumped in your panties beneath your skirt. You had to cross your legs to avoid the feeling as Rumi and Keigo began to chat. Dabi would chime in here and there, but mostly just sipped his drink and looked around the club like a bored and lost puppy. 

He was fine as hell and kind of unintentionally funny, but that wasn’t what hooked you. It was two weeks before you moved into your new apartment when he randomly hit you up while you were organizing boxes for move-in day. You were sweaty and out of breath so when you answered the phone, you sounded less than happy. “Yes?” you snapped. 

“Uh…this a bad time?” Dabi had asked, his gravelly yet smooth-like-chocolate voice in your ear. Your eyes widened and your heart jumped into your throat. “Uh, no!” you immediately replied. “Sorry, I didn’t know it was you. The ID came up as a possible scam.” 

“That’s my fault,” Dabi said, actually sounding apologetic. “I never gave you my number. Listen, I didn’t wanna take up your time. I just wanted to ask if you needed help movin’ in.” 

“Huh?” you dumbly asked, your brain short-circuiting. “To where?” 

“....Your new apartment?” he said, just as confused as you. “You’re movin’ in this week, right?” 

A record scratched in your mind and you physically facepalmed yourself. ‘You dumb bitch!’ you thought. “Oh, yeah!” you backpedaled. “Sorry, I’ve been moving boxes since this morning.” 

“Well, lemme come up and I’ll help you,” Dabi replied. You blinked at his offer, shocked at how easily he volunteered. “No, it’s fine!” you said. “It’s just little stuff anyway! You don’t have to–” 

“I’ll be up in ten,” he interjected. “I’ve got nothin’ better to do anyhow. Stay there.” Then he hung up, leaving you open-mouthed and horrified at your appearance. Luckily, when he came over, you had dried off your sweat and fixed your hair so you didn’t look a total hot mess. 

Though you worked in silence most of the day, Dabi made sure to ask you what to put where and heaved heavier boxes for you, his muscles flexing as he did. When his job was done, he even offered to help you move your furniture around once you got it. Weeks later, he did so, helping Keigo lug your couch up the stairs and put together a table. 

He did it all in his free time without asking for a dollar. You knew from Keigo how he didn’t like going out much, so to see him do so for you did something to you. Since then, you’ve always had a slight thing for Dabi. You call it a “thing” because you’re not sure what it is. Even when you were dating your ex, he’d always be at the back of your mind and in your wettest dreams. Since he lives in the same apartment complex as you, you made it a point to say hi to him whenever you could after moving in. But the thing is you barely saw him. He lived on a whole other floor and had an entirely different schedule than you which made being nice a lot harder. That’s why you were hoping he’d come tonight: so you could get to know him more. 

“How he and Keigo are friends, I’ll never understand,” Nemuri scoffs. They’re complete opposites!” Rumi smirks up at her as she squeezes a hand on her girlfriend’s ass. “I guess opposites attract,” she teasingly says, pulling a giggling Nemuri close to her. 

You pretend to retch. “Ugh, can you two please stop?” you whine. “I don’t need to be reminded that I don’t have a fairytale romance or that I haven’t had sex in two months.” 

“Two months?!” Rumi and Nemuri exclaim in unison. You flush, adverting your eyes as you sip your drink. “That’s what I’m saying!” Rumi exasperatedly says. “You’re stressin’ over a guy as weird as Dabi when you should be out and about gettin’ your flirt on. With a body like yours, you’d find someone to keep you company tonight in no time. Someone better than that dickhead you left.” 

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose as you begin to see your ex’s stupid face behind your eyelids. “Don’t remind me of him, Rumi.” 

It’s been three months since you moved out of your shared apartment with your ex and officially broke it off with him after catching him with another girl. After being together for a year and knowing in your heart that this was the man you were destined to be with, you threw caution to the wind and went half on an apartment with him in a nice part of Musutafu. 

The first five months were good, but then you started noticing how lazy he was. He barely cleaned, couldn’t cook, and argued about running errands when you asked him, even if it was just a grocery run. “You know I’m not good with groceries, babe,” he’d whine. “I always get the wrong shit and you yell at me about it!” 

What irked you most about him is that he never tried. Not with anything! Not with the cleaning, the cooking, or the sex. That was another thing you started noticing about him: the sex was boring. It used to be amazing between you two, but after moving in together, it started seriously lacking. Though you cut him some slack because of his busy work schedule and long hours, the same old position (that being doggy style) can get tiresome. 

But though you tried to spice things up with new lingerie, toys, or new kinks to enjoy, he never seemed to want to participate or be interested in them. Those nights of nothing leading into mornings where he left early for work and left you alone were devastating. You started suspecting something was up the third year of your relationship, but you never ever suspecting cheating. 

However, fate forced those rose-colored glasses off of you when you stepped into your apartment one afternoon after a yoga class with Rumi and found your boyfriend getting head from a woman you’ve never seen before. You were devastated, to say the least. Your first instinct was to leave and you found yourself crying to Rumi, Nemuri, and Keigo that night over wine. 

“I’m gonna fuck him up,” Keigo had growled, and you had to stop him from getting in his car to do so. “You’re telling me he cheated on you?” he asked incredulously. “You? He’s as dumb as he is a bitch.” 

“You can stay here as long as you want, babe,” Rumi cooed, stroking your hair away from your tear-soaked face. “Nemuri and I would be happy to have you…as long as you’re okay with the thin walls.” 

And you were (or at least you told yourself you were every time you’d hear Nemuri scream Rumi’s name to the heavens) because you did stay. After Keigo and Rumi helped you get your shit and tell off your boyfriend, you moved out of your shared apartment and bunked with Rumi and Nemuri while you saved up for a new home. 

Your ex called and texted you constantly throughout that time, begging you to come back and that he was sorry, but after you ignored each one, he stopped. It took a while to get over him. Even now, you still feel a lump in your throat over what happened–the lies; the betrayal; the utter disrespect to you and your home. But after a while, you managed to push through and finally began home hunting. 

Rumi stares at you now, pissed that you’re being so stubborn but also looking empathetic towards you. You don’t like either. “Fine, do what you want,” she sighs, “but I still say to get out of your funk and stop worryin’ about Dabi showin’ up. If he does, he does. If he doesn’t, it’s his loss and he needs to get his shit together.” 

You try to ignore her words by gulping down the rest of your drink. When it’s gone, your body craves more to replace your feelings of pure shittiness. “I’m gonna go get another tequila sunrise,” you mutter to Rumi and Nemuri. “Watch my spot.” 

You hurry away from your hands, not wanting to see their faces as you make a beeline for the kitchen. You plaster on a smile as you catch the eyes of your guests, wanting to assure them that everything is fine and you don’t feel like you just wallowed in a load of shit in your pretty yellow mini dress.

You finally make it to your kitchen, away from the music blasting from your portable speaker in your living room and the constant chatter. The snack table and counters still have snacks, plastic cups, and jello shots on them along with bottles of alcohol and soul food that you had catered from your favorite restaurant. 

You immediately for the fridge where a pitcher of pre-made tequila sunrise mix sits next to some sangria (which is all gone). ‘Damn drunkies,’ you think as you go to fill up your glass. Nemuri appears behind you, obviously following you from the couch. She silently watches you pour your drink before she decides to say something. “Don’t worry about Rumi, hon,” she comfortingly says. “You know how she is: she’s blunt, but she’s only that way because she loves you.” 

You lower the pitcher once your glass is full and place it back in the fridge. You don’t close the fridge though. The cool air feels good on your clammy skin. “I know,” you sigh, “but I don’t need to be reminded about how my recent relationship crashed and burned. Not to mention be lectured about Dabi. I’m not a kid.” 

“So you are worried he won’t come?” Nemuri asks curiously. 

“No!” you immediately protest, then pivot, fumbling with the straw in your drink. “I-I mean, not really. He just said he’d show up, so…I guess I was just hopin’ he’d stop by and congratulate me for the apartment since he helped me move in.” 

You had invited him, after all. This was last week on a very warm Saturday morning when the summer heat was starting to rise. It was laundry day and you were forced to lug a pillow sack of dirty clothes in an elevator, sweating in your biker shorts and Spongebob tee. You were prepared for no one to see you that morning, but fate had other plans when the elevator stopped on one of the lower apartment floors. You were headed for the basement where the laundry mat is. 

The doors opened, revealing the last person you wanted to see that morning. “O-Oh!” you stuttered, taken by surprise by his sudden appearance. And the fact that he looked so goddamn hot. Dabi stood at the elevator doors in his usual black attire, except he had on sweats instead of joggers. You had to force yourself not to stare at his crotch. “Hey, Dabi,” you greeted him, giving him a smile. 

Dabi only gave you a nod as he stepped inside the elevator. You didn’t take it negatively. That was just Dabi–he never said much. He pressed the button to the lobby before the doors closed, leaving you together in the small elevator cart. You could feel the four walls of the elevator closing in with him standing so near, especially when his scent was invading your senses. It was spicy yet sweet like cinnamon with a hint of cologne. It was turning you on badly. 

Dabi suddenly tilted his chin at the pillow sack. “What’s with the sack?” he muttered. “You got kids to deliver to or somethin’?” 

You quirked a smirk at his attempt at a joke. “Funny,” you chuckled. He smirked back, shrugging passively. “I try.” Just like that, the tension faded. “Just laundry,” you sighed. “About two weeks’ worth. I’ve been puttin’ it off since I’ve been still setting up my apartment.” 

He nodded and you both fell into silence again that swelled around you. “Sooo where are you off to so early?” you asked, desperate to fill the horrible silence. “Just the station,” he replied blandly. “Why they decided to have a meeting at the ass-crack of dawn is beyond me.” You nodded and giggled to yourself, only imagining the shit he had to put up with as a firefighter. Dabi has been working for the Musutafu fire department for three years now, commuting from the apartment to work every morning. 

You smile at him gratefully. “Thanks a lot for helpin’ me with the move-in process. It made things so much easier.” He once again shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “It’s whatever,” he mumbled. “And no, I don’t want your money, before you say anything. You need it more than I do.” 

“Ugh, you ain’t lyin’,” you groaned tiredly, your mind jumping from place to place. “I thought doing all the cleaning would be a lot, but I’m still gettin’ used to handlin’ the bills myself plus rent and groceries and…” You buttoned your lip and flushed embarrassingly, realizing you’d been talking for too long. “Sorry,” you giggled, embarrassed. “I’m rambling. Not a good way to start your morning. Just tell me to shut up.” 

Dabi shrugged, not looking perturbed by it. “You have nothin’ to be sorry for. Your ex was a dick, end of story. Plus, hearin’ you complain about him isn’t the worst thing I’ve heard in the morning.” He looked at you, looking deadass. “Try gettin’ an earful of that blonde bitch singin’ in the shower when he’s not laid up with somebody.” 

You laughed then, glad you didn’t have Keigo as a roommate. “How are your ears not bleeding?” you giggled. Dabi smiled at the sound of your laugh–a real, genuine smile that made him even more handsome to you. The moment quickly ended though when the elevator dinged and the doors opened to the lobby. “This is me,” Dabi muttered, his smile disappearing. 

He began to head out, not even giving you a goodbye or a “have a nice day” or a “you look fine as fuck in those shorts, lemme get your number”. Nothing! Your heart thundered in your chest, realizing this may be your one chance to interact with him for more than five seconds. 

Quickly, you jammed the button to hold the doors open. “H-Hey!” you abruptly called out. Dabi stopped and looked over his shoulder at you. “I meant to tell you: I’m havin’ this apartment warming party next Saturday night. It’s like a housewarming, but it’s for my apartment and uh…” 

‘You’re rambling! Just get to the point, bitch!’ 

“If you wanna come, you’re welcome to,” you continued. “Keigo is coming, so I figured I’d extend the invite.” Dabi had an unreadable expression on his face as he stared at you as if trying to make sense of you. “So…other people are gonna be there?” he carefully asks. 

You blinked at him. What a weird fucking question. “Well, yeah, but just some of my coworkers and people Rumi and I know. It’s just a small thing, nothing too big. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to, but there’s gonna be food, music, a little bit of weed…” You trailed off, hoping the weed would get him since he’s a smoker. 

Dabi shoves a hand into his pocket and leans back on his haunches. “I don’t really go to parties too much,” he admitted. “Not that I hate ‘em, but I’m not really a people person.” That definitely meant he wasn’t coming. “Oh,” you exhaled, disappointment blooming inside of you. “I get you. I just figured I’d–” 

“I mean, I’ll still stop by or whatever,” he interjected with a shrug. “Don’t I gotta bring a gift or somethin’?” You tried to stomp down the happiness flooding your chest, but you couldn’t help it. “If you want!” you chirped happily. “I like plants…wine…gift cards…Beyoncè tickets…just some ideas.” 

Dabi smirked humorously at your little witty joke. “Not sure about that other part, but I’ll see what I can do.” Then, without another word, he turned to leave. “I’ll see you later then!” you called after him to which he gave you a slight wave. Finally, you let the doors close on you, and though his goodbye was anti-climatic, you couldn’t get rid of your smile. 

Now here you are, two hours into the party, and he still isn’t here yet. Keigo isn’t either but he at least said he was coming straight from work as a bartender. “Don’t be upset if he doesn’t, Y/N,” Nemuri coos, putting a hand on your shoulder. “I haven’t heard of Dabi ever going against his word, he’s very…different.” 

‘Tell me about it,’ you think.

“He’s not a bad guy,” Nemuri continues, “but he’s not as much of a social butterfly as Keigo is, especially because of his accident. He might be afraid he’ll make people feel uncomfortable.” 

As soon as the words are out of her mouth, you freeze, your brain processing the meaning behind them. Dabi never talked about his accident, especially to you, but according to Keigo, he got those burn scars not from a firefighting mission gone wrong. He got them when he was a child after playing with matches one Christmas night and setting his home on fire. Supposedly, this was because he was angry that his father aka that redheaded bitch Enji Todoroki didn’t buy him, his siblings, or his wife any Christmas gifts. 

Little Dabi found the matches sitting up on the mantel above the fireplace and ultimately set a spark that engulfed their home. Dabi was never the same after that, especially after nearly dying from the flames. Luckily, he didn’t die from his severe burns, but they left the left side of his face and body with burn scars–reminders of what happened. “He blames himself a lot for that night,” Keigo said to you when he recounted the story. “Especially since his family lost so much stuff. To him, he feels responsible for the fact that his family could’ve died in that fire.” 

Though he has a great relationship with his family besides Enji, he’s always carried around the weight of that trauma. Literally speaking too, because of those burns on his body. He can never ever get rid of them. He’s forced to wear them and be scrutinized by the world because of his disfigurement. 

As soon as Nemuri’s words process, you feel sick to your stomach. “I never thought of it that way,” you confess, feeling horribly guilty. “Fuck, now I feel like a bitch! Here I am upset over him not comin’ to my party when he owes me nothing, and yet–” 

“Hey.” Like a light in the darkness, Nemuri emerges in front of you and firmly holds your shoulders. “Stop. You’ll ruin your makeup sweatin’ over this.” She then hands you a napkin and you begin to bloat your Fenty Beauty foundation, hoping your makeup didn’t slide.

“Just take a breath, get yourself another drink, and have some fun!” she encourages. “While I wouldn’t have said it as brazenly as Rumi did, I agree that you need a night to forget about your ex and meet somebody you can spend the night with so you can forget about your ex. Here, I’ll even help you! I’m great at matchmaking.” 

You quirk a smile at her volunteering to help you get laid. “Thanks, Nemuri, but I think I’ll pass on scouting for dick tonight. I don’t feel like hooking up.”

And you don’t. All you want to do is drink, dance, and celebrate your first big girl apartment. “But I do feel like having fun,” you say aloud before taking a jello shot and throwing it back. The taste of vodka and artificial orange immediately hits your tongue, just as your favorite Beyoncè song blasts from the living room. 

“Oh, this is my song!” you squeal, already moving your body to the beat. Nemuri moves with you, happy to see you happy. “That’s the spirit!” she cheers. You two dance in the kitchen for a while until the doorbell rings. “Looks like more people came to congratulate you,” Nemuri giggles, squeezing your hand. “Go get it quick before the song ends.” 

You nod and take your drink with you as you hurry out of the kitchen to your door. You already feel better after the quick dance session and some more alcohol. You feel like you could take on anything now. You swing open the door with enthusiasm, happy to have more guests. “Welcome to my…” you begin to shout, grinning at your guests standing at your door. 

But that smile fades when you get a look at not only Keigo but Dabi standing behind him, each with a bag in their hand. As soon as Dabi’s cobalt eyes meet yours, you’re a puddle. “Home,” you weakly finish. 

“Wow, what a welcome,” Keigo chuckles. “Thanks for havin’ us, babe. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” He leans in to give you a one-armed hug before releasing you. “Hope you don’t mind I bought the enigma along for the ride.” 

He nods at Dabi who looks oh-so uncomfortable and delicious in his black tee and jeans. His icy blue eyes flick to yours before looking away to somewhere beyond your face. “N-Not at all,” you reply softly. 

“And us too!” a familiar voice comes from behind Dabi. The voice belongs to his equally as fine brother, Natsuo Todoroki. “Long time no see, Y/N.” He grins at you, running a hand through his snow-white hair.

Another familiar face appears from around the corner though it is hidden behind shaggy, black hair that reaches his shoulders. Tenko, aka Shiggy, with his tattoos and gages. “That’s ‘cause you're deep in those nursing books,” he tells Natsuo before turning to you, dark circles under his eyes. “You got smokes in here, right? I’ve been tattooing people all day and I need a reliever.” 

“Yes, and come in,” you giggle, opening the door wider for your four muscular, tall, and fine-ass guests. They each walk in and you close the door behind them. As soon as they’re inside, Shiggy makes a beeline for the weed, leaving you, Dabi, Keigo, and Natsuo standing there. 

“Woooow, kid,” Keigo whistles. “Cute place you got here. I knew it was a good idea to put the TV over there.” He nods proudly at the TV in the living room. “So this is your very first place. I really can’t call you “kid” no more, can I?” He actually sounds upset about it. 

“Yep,” you laugh. “My first home, first real purchase. I feel like a big girl for real now.” 

“You should!” Natsuo chuckles, a smile growing on his handsome face. “Especially without that emotional vampire suckin’ the life outta you. Oh, before I forget…” He nudges Keigo who presents you with a paper bag “Housewarming gift number one,” the second oldest Todoroki kid says with a grin. “Dabi has the other. C’mon and give her the gift, D!” 

Dabi glares at his brother, but pulls a little bag from behind his back. You look into both, finding a bottle of wine, a bottle opener, and some cute, multi-colored wine glasses in them. “Thank you,” you giggle. “I’ll drink it all tonight.” 

“So where’s the food and the pretty people?” Keigo asks, a mischievous glint in his eye. You already knew the man would be getting his freak on tonight. “All in the living room. Rumi and Nemuri are somewhere around here if you want me to–” 

“Nah, kid, don’t worry your pretty head about it,” Keigo interjects, putting a hand on your shoulder. “I’ll definitely find them. You stay here and tend to your new guest…he’s gonna need it.” He nods at Dabi before giving you a wink. “C’mon, Natsuo!” he hollers, taking the white-haired man by the shoulder. 

Natsuo gives you an apologetic look as he’s dragged off. “Take care of him, please?” he softly pleads before heading off with Keigo to stop him from harassing people. You turn to Dabi who looks ready to strangle them both. “Fuckin’ bitches,” he growls under his breath. 

Standing among the music and the chatter, you realize that now you two are alone. Well, not completely, but enough that it feels awkward without someone starting the conversation. Nervously, you swallow, realizing you’ll have to throw in the towel. “I-I didn’t think you’d come,” you shakily begin. “You said you weren’t a people person.” 

“I’m not,” Dabi gruffly declares, “but I did owe you a gift.” Your heart leaps at his words despite his tone. “You really didn’t, but thanks anyway.” 

He nods once more his eyes flick up and down your form quickly. When you catch it, your entire body grows hot. Does he think you look good? If he does, will he say it? It doesn’t appear he’ll say anything at all. You clear your throat once more, attempting to break the ice that is quickly hardening. “Uh…so you want a drink or a tour of the place? I’d feel bad if you were just standin’ here.” 

“What’s wrong with just standin’?” he deadpans, but you can tell it’s a joke. “Everything, unless you’re a plant,” you tease. You earn a little smirk out of him, but that’s about all you get. So you start to ramble. “The drinks are really good. Keigo knows the bartender, so–” 

“What?” he cuts in, straining to hear you. You lean in toward him, placing a hand on his shoulder to get closer to him. “I said Keigo knows the bartender I hired for the party!” you exclaim into his ear. “I also catered soul food if you want to–” 

You’re rudely cut off when someone bumps into you. She’s one of your coworkers from the HR department, but because she’s so drunk, she barely recognizes you. “Sorry!” she hiccups. “Bathroom!” Quickly, she runs upstairs to your bathroom, holding her stomach as she does. You turn to Dabi who looks even more uncomfortable now. You keep your hand on his shoulder, wanting him to know you’re here for him. He doesn’t move your hand away. “I’m startin’ to think maybe you’re right about the standin’ thing,” he mumbles. “You got anywhere more private?” 

It takes a moment for his words to process, but when they do, you swear you could touch the moon. He’s really here for you. To talk to you. And you know exactly where to go for it. “I know a perfect place,” you giggle excitedly. “Get yourself a drink and I’ll get some smoke. Meet me back here in five minutes.” 

Dabi looks relieved that you agreed. Quickly, he moves to the kitchen to get himself a drink, earning some eyefucks in the process, regardless of his burns. Still holding your gifts, you make a beeline to the smoke section and force Shiggy to cough up the rest of the starburst-flavored papers (to which he whines about) and a little baggie of weed. 

The crew is sitting on the couch vibing to the music when you come over. Keigo and Natsuo are in awe at Dabi being up and about, pouring himself a drink. “So I see you got him to move!” Natsuo laughs. “It’s a miracle!” Rumi, currently holding Nemuri in her lap as she chats with someone next to her, gives you a smirk. “Where are you off to?” she asks suspiciously. 

You smile back at her, unable to hide your giddiness. “To show my guest around. Hold down the fort for a minute.” 

“Maybe more than a minute,” Keigo snickers knowingly. Rumi nudges him with her elbow as you flush to yourself. “You’ve got it, captain. Go enjoy yourself and your man.” You turn away, skin still on fire. “He’s not my man!” you call over your shoulder as you hurry to gather something to loosen you both up. “Yet,” you whisper to yourself. 

Dabi meets you back at your door like you ask him to with a red solo cup that smells of whiskey and apple in his hand. You motion for him to follow you out the door of your apartment and down the hallway. “It’s right up here,” you explain, pointing up the emergency staircase in case of a fire.

Dabi raises a quizzical eyebrow but follows you up the short flight of steps anyway. When at the top, you push open the door at the end of the staircase, revealing the rooftop to your apartment building. The roof is decorated with comfortable sofas, mini tables, and fair lights that hang among the rafters. The edges of the rooftop are blocked off by clear, plaster walls that serve as barriers between the inside and the outside. 

You shut the door behind you and turn to Dabi. “You know about this place?” you softly ask. 

He stares around the prettily-decorated rooftop, lips parted in awe. “Not at all,” he admits, bewildered. “I’ve been livin’ here longer than you and knew nothin’ about it, but then again, I barely come out of my apartment.” 

“I’m a sucker for rooftops,” you confess. “That’s what drew me to this complex.” You walk over to him, staring out at the view before you: glittering city lights and the sunset that isn’t anything but a line of fuschia that dips beneath the mountains far off into the distance. It truly is a beautiful sight. 

You suddenly feel warm as if someone’s eyes are on you and turn to see Dabi unabashedly staring at you. 

“Goddamn, you are short,” he snickers. 

You smack his arm, flushing. It’s not your fault you were cursed with short genes. “Hey!” you gasp, mock-offended. “Keep talkin’ like that and you’ll find yourself goin’ over this rooftop. Just for that, you’re rollin’ the blunt for us.” You plop down on one of the couches and pat the empty seat next to you twice, motioning him to sit next to you. 

Dabi looks hesitant at first but sits down next to you anyway. He still appears tall even though he’s sitting. 

“You sure your crib is gonna be okay?” he asks as he begins to set up shop. You wave off his concern, trusting your guests. “Rumi and Keigo won’t let anything happen to it. Especially Rumi; she scares people.” 

He smirks at your answer as he begins preparing a blunt for you, taking out a grinder and the little baggie of weed. You prepare the wine and glasses, pouring yourself one and leaving another empty for Dabi just in case. Once finished, you sit in silence and watch him work, sipping your wine as you do. You watch him intensely, your eyes hypnotized by his fingers expertly sprinkling the marijuana into the paper and then working on rolling the blunt to absolute perfection. 

He’s so good with his hands. 

Your eyes trail up his hands to his wrists to his arms, admiring the muscle beneath the dark ink on his skin. One tattoo, in particular, catches your attention: the number 58 with a green dragon slithering out of the eight. “Nice tatt.” 

“It’s my firefighter number,” he explains, eyes still trained on his hands. “The dragon is the symbol for the department. I designed and inked it myself.” You don’t notice that you’ve gotten closer to him, your legs aimed directly toward him. Your body is completely under his silent spell. “You do your own tattoos?” you ask, wanting to know more, anything more, about him. 

He nods, jetting his tongue out to lick the paper. It is pink with a glint of something in it. You realize that it’s a tongue piercing and your clit jumps. “Shiggy taught me when we were teens.” He suddenly stops rolling the blunt and points at a few words linked across his right collarbone. “This one is the first tatt I gave myself when I was sixteen. It’s Latin for ‘don’t let the past steal your present’.” 

He then begins to recite the words in Latin, his rolling tongue making the inside of your thighs feel warm. “I didn’t know you spoke Latin.” His eyes flicker over to yours, a softness to them. “There are a lot of things you don’t about me,” he murmurs, his tone low and sugary sweet to you. 

You don’t know if it’s the alcohol, the privacy, or him, but it allows you to be even bolder. You scoot next to him even farther, turning your body so that your hip presses against his. He doesn’t move away, but you do feel him tense. “Hopefully, there are some you’d be willing to share,” you softly reply, hoping he’ll read between the lines and see how much you want this. 

Alas, he doesn’t say anything, but you do notice that his knee begins touching yours. You don’t know if it’s accidental or intentional, but it has you feeling warm and tingly regardless. When he finally finishes the blunt, he lights the end of it and takes a smoke test before passing it to you. You take it gingerly between your forefinger and thumb and take a much-needed puff. 

The smoke fills your lungs instantly and you exhale peacefully, watching the wisps of smoke disappear into the starry night sky. “Nothin’ like a blunt to ease the nerves,” you sigh contently, already feeling more relaxed. 

“Are you nervous?” Dabi asks, actually sounding surprised by it. His arm is tossed over the back of the couch, right behind your head. “Around me?” You flush, passing the blunt back to him. “Well, kinda,” you laugh awkwardly. “You’re just so…” You grow quiet, trying to find the appropriate word. 

He takes a puff of the blunt. “Weird?” he finishes, quirking a brow at you as smoke billows from his mouth. He passes the blunt back to you. “I was gonna say ‘quiet’,” you reply. “I don’t think you’re weird.” 

Dabi shrugs, looking out into the city lights. “I just don’t have much to say, but you ain’t the only one who’s nervous. Like I said, I’m not much of a social butterfly; not even at work. That’s Keigo and my brother. They dragged me out here tonight.” His eyes, like twin pools of the bluest water in the farthest Carribean island, flick to yours. “But to be honest, I would’ve come anyway.” 

You suddenly forget you’re holding the blunt and quickly place it down on the ashtray on the mini table. “You would?” you ask, hating how breathless you sound. He shrugs like it should be obvious. “Well, yeah. I wouldn’t want that gift card goin’ to just anybody.” 

You scowl confusedly at him to which he smirks humorously. “Look at the bottom of the bag I gave you.” Slowly, you do so, and sure enough, you see a silver $150 Visa gift card glinting at the bottom of the bag. You take it out, staring at it. Dabi looks sheepish, planting his hand firmly in his lap as if he doesn’t know what to do with it. “It ain’t much and it definitely ain’t a Beyoncé ticket, but I hope you like it.” 

Suddenly, the alcohol, the weed, and the scent of him begin to work their magic on you. All of your inhibitions and all logic are gone as you stare at his gorgeous, scarred face. “I love it,” you whisper, and before you can stop yourself, you lean in and press a soft kiss to Dabi’s cheek. You feel his soft skin and the slight prickle of stubble there before pulling away. 

He stares at you, shocked, and you stare right back as reality sets in. ‘Oh, no…what the fuck did I do?’ 

“Y/N,” he says, your voice like a prayer on his lips. But before he can finish his thought, your phone rudely interrupts him. “Fuck,” you hiss. “I’m so sorry.” You scramble to pick it up and find your ex’s name flashing across the screen. “Dammit!” you snap. 

“Who is it?” he asks, his brows furrowed in confusion. You show him, groaning with dread. “It’s my ex. I thought he stopped callin’ me, but apparently not.” 

“He’s been callin’ you?” he asks, a bitter tone to his voice. He does not sound happy about this. You slowly nod to which he demands, “Put him on speaker.” You stare at him, wondering if he’s deadass, but he’s not looking like he’s bs-ing you about this. Despite your better judgment and confusion, you do as he says and put the call on speaker before answering your ex with a curt, “What do you want?” 

“Heeey, that’s no way to talk to your man,” your ex slurs into the phone. “What’s up with you?” You scowl in disgust at his tone. “What’s up with you?” you shoot back. “Are you drunk?” He snorts in response meaning he’s definitely drunk. “Not nearly enough. Just was thinkin’ ‘bout you bein’ alone in that big, empty apartment…but then I happened across your IG and saw your stories.” 

“Yeah, and?” you ask cooly. 

“You’re throwin’ a party at the expense of us?” he snaps at the flip of a switch. “You want everyone to know what happened to us?” You roll your eyes. Everything is always about him. “Only my friends know what happened because they’re my friends. And even if I tell people, it’s none of your business and you fuckin’ deserve it for cheating, lying dick.” 

He pauses, letting your insult process, but the longer he’s quiet the more tired you grow. “Is this what you called me for?” you demand. “To argue? ‘Cause I’m not in the mood.” He makes a sound over the phone between a sigh and a groan, sounding exhausted. “Can’t we just talk about this?” he asks. “I just don’t get why you had to leave. We had three years!” 

You scoff to yourself. The sheer audacity of this guy! Those are three years he decided to ruin; not you! 

“Can’t we just talk it out, Y/N?” he asks again, sounding absolutely broken.

Now it’s Dabi’s turn to respond. “There ain’t nothing to talk about,” he malevolently replies. “She already made it clear that she’s not interested in whatever you want.” 

Your ex is quiet for a moment, taken aback by the new voice. “Who the fuck are you?” he spits. “Y/N, who is that?” Your brain short circuits trying to find a legitimate answer. 

“Her new man,” Dabi growls, “and if I ever see you callin’ her again, I’m pullin’ up to make you see God early. You’re lucky I didn’t do that when I found out you stuck your dick inside someone else who wasn’t the woman you had. What are you, stupid?” You and your ex are silent, astounded by his words. 

“And if you even think about comin’ over here yourself, don’t,” Dabi continues. “Take that as my act of kindness to you even though you sure as hell don’t deserve it.” Your ex is enraged, cussing, and slurring into the speaker. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” he snaps. “You think you can just–” 

“Don’t call here again, whore,” Dabi growls before he gives you a slight nod and you end the call. 

As soon as the call ends, you set your phone down and voice the one question that is burning you alive: “Did you mean what you said?” you ask carefully. “That you’re my new man?” 

Before Dabi can even begin to explain himself, you softly, shyly, tell him, “Because I wouldn’t reject that offer.” 

Dabi gapes at you, obviously not believing your words. Then a hardened expression sets on his handsome face. “You’re not serious,” he scoffs with laughter. “You’re not.” You scowl at him, disappointed. That wasn’t the response you were expecting. “What do you mean?” you ask, confused. “You don’t think I want this?” 

“No, I don’t,” he replies sternly, suddenly standing up. You can see that wall that you’ve been all night trying to destroy building back up. “I think you think I’m a weird ass, introverted loser that you wanna take a ride on because it’ll be fun for the first few weeks while you’re gettin’ over your breakup.” He shakes his head, laughing to himself. “You could never want me.” 

You stare at him, dumbfounded. “Why would you think that?” you softly ask, hurt for him now more than yourself. Dabi chuckles dryly. “C’mon now, Y/N,” he scoffs. “Someone who looks like you with someone who looks like me?” He points to the scars on his face. “I’m not the man you think I am.” 

“I don’t think of you as anything, Dabi,” you passionately say, standing up now too. “I invited you here because I want to get to know you more. I always have, even when I was with my ex.” He turns to stare at you, shocked at your words. There it is: the truth, laid out in the open with only the stars as witnesses to it. 

You move closer to him, gently taking his wrist into your hand. His body feels tense in your grasp. “Your scars mean nothing to me; they never did. Would you believe me if I said I’ve always liked you too?” 

You take your other hand and place it on his chest, right above his heart which is beating as fast as a hummingbird’s wings. “Now that I know you’ve felt the same way, nothing is holding me back anymore.” 

You then stand up on your tiptoes and again press a kiss to his jawline, right on a burn scar there. “I can handle this, Dabi,” you murmur against his ear. “I like it rough.” That is all you needed to say to get Dabi to finally unravel. 

You can only let out a tiny gasp before he grabs you by the back of the neck and presses his lips against yours. His kiss isn’t soft or careful. His kiss his rough; hungry; slow as he draws moans and gasps out of you. He kisses you like he’s been dreaming of doing so for ages, and you have no doubt that he has. His lips are soft, the taste of whiskey, apple, and mint on his tongue. You let his hands move along your back and ass, squeezing the flesh there and making you moan. 

Taking advantage of your open mouth, he slides his tongue alongside your bottom lip before slipping his tongue inside of your mouth. He moans hungrily as your tongue begins to swirl with his, swapping spit and exchanging breath. The act makes your pussy clench impatiently in your panties, wanting to be touched and petted. By him. Dabi then pulls away enough to speak to you, his eyes hooded and dark. 

“How long have you felt his way about me?” he murmurs hotly against your lips. “Tell me.” 

His hand sneaks down underneath your dress to squeeze your ass. You let him, biting back a whimper in the process. You barely know him and yet you’re letting him touch you like this right in the open. “S-Since you helped me move,” you softly stutter. “But I’ve always been attracted to you since we met.” 

He begins to kiss you all over now: your neck; your jawline; your collarbone; your naked shoulders in your spaghetti straps. “Fuck,” he growls against your skin. “You’re too good to be fuckin’ true.” His hands roam up and down your hips and sides, squeezing and fondling. “I’ve been wantin’ your fine ass since we met.” 

“How come you never…?” The rest of your question doesn’t reach your lips as he grabs you by your hips and pulls you toward him, so close that air can’t even move between you. Your bodies are pressed flush against each other, so close that you can feel a bulge in his jeans that can only be his hardening dick. He’s turned on by you. The fact makes you delirious. 

His lips press against yours again, kissing them so much that your mouth becomes raw from it. He begins to walk backward to the couch, never breaking the kiss, and plops down onto the cushion. He then grips you by the hips and coaxes you on top of his lap where you begin to straddle him. His hands, so rough yet so warm, continue to fondle your thighs and ass, squeezing at the flesh there and making you whimper into his mouth. Instinctively, you grind down into his hardening dick, enlisting a moan from deep within his throat. It travels right down to your pussy. 

Suddenly, he pulls away with a soft gasp. His eyes are lust-blown, his lips pinker than usual. “Hang on…I wanna try something.” With one arm wrapped securely around your waist, he moves to pluck the blunt from the ashtray. “You ever shotgun before?” he asks. You blink dumbly at him, confused, and shake your head. “It’s easy. Lemme show you.” 

You watch with utter lust as he takes a long drag of the blunt, his eyes pinned on yours. Then, with one hand, he squeezes your cheeks, forcing you to form your mouth into an O shape. He leans in close as if he is about to kiss you again and, slowly, billows of marijuana smoke shoot out of his mouth and into yours. You’re trembling with need and anticipation as the smoke fills your senses along with the sight of Dabi’s crystal blue eyes staring you down. “Nice, right?” he chuckles. “Now try it with me.” 

You’re eager to try this new addictive activity as well as please him, so you pucker your lips and puff on the blunt that Dabi holds out for you. Then, after inhaling a good portion of smoke, you slowly blow it out into Dabi’s waiting lips. But you don’t stop there. You lean in toward him and devour his mouth, desperate to have him. At some point, he puts the blunt back down but you don’t notice. You’re too drunk and high off of him. You pull away, leaving him dazed. “I want you,” you whisper, wrapping your arms tightly around him.  

“Bedroom?” he asks, a suggestive glint in his eye. “And before you ask, no, I don’t think you’re easy or that I’m a rebound. We already established that we’re two idiots who’ve been pinin’ after each other for months now.” 

His words make you smile. Though you weren’t at all thinking about if he saw you as “easy” or if he was just a lay to get over your ex, it’s so nice to hear that all he wants is you. This only makes your need for him grow until it reaches an almost painful point. Your throbbing clit is a testimate to that. 

“No bedroom,” you say, giving him an excited, sexy smile. “I want you out here.” Dabi raises a brow, not expecting your request. “Please, Dabi,” you plead. “I-I don’t think I can wait.” To show him that you’re serious, you begin to take down the spaghetti straps to your dress to reveal your bra. You don’t care if anyone sees. You just want him so badly. 

The shock in his blue eyes is replaced with sheer hunger when he gets a look at those perfect tits in the pretty little bra you have on. “You little freak,” he chuckles. “Well, at least lemme get a feel of you if you want me that badly. Hop off me.” You listen to him and settle down next to him as he gets up to inspect you. 

You bite your lip and watch him as he kneels down in front of you and opens your legs. When he gets a look at your soaked little panties, he almost looks pained. “Goddamn, mama,” he hisses. “You’re so wet for me. You don’t even need these little panties anymore.” His eyes flick up to yours and his hands still at your thighs. ‘Okay?’ his eyes ask. 

Wordlessly, you nod, unable to speak. But he isn’t down for that. He begins to brush his fingers up and down your wet slit above your panties, paying close attention to your reactions. “Words, baby,” he growls. “Gimme words.” 

“Yes!” you moan, your toes curling in your heels at the feeling of his fingers brushing your wet cunt. “Please, Dabi…please touch me.” He gives you a wolfish grin at your pitiful reaction, but doesn’t keep you waiting. He loops his fingers through the waistband of your panties and pulls them down your legs you reveal your naked, sobbing wet pussy. “Shit!” he hisses, gaping at your sex. “You have the prettiest pussy, babe.” 

“Thank y–!” Your words are cut off by a sudden gasp as Dabi leans in and begins suckling on your clit and eating your pussy like a starving man. He is relentless with his tongue slashes, flicks, and long licks up and down your slit. He moves his tongue like he’s a master at eating pussy, paying close attention to your reaction every time he does something new. 

You’re loving it. You writhe and grind your hips against his mouth, trying to get him closer. Your pussy pushes around his pillowy-soft lips and wet tongue that writes shapes and nonsense words across your wet lips and needy little clit. “You’re so wet,” he mumbles into your pussy. “Does doin’ this shit out in the open turn you on that much, mama?” 

You moan in response to him, unable to form words, especially when he reaches one hand up to pay with your breast. You help him bring down the bra cup to expose your breast, hissing in pleasure as he begins gently pinching the hardened brown nipple. This is insane. You barely know this man and not only are you letting him do this to you, it’s all in public. Anyone could walk up the staircase and see you, or look across or up from the sidewalk to find you like this. 

It’s so shameful. So nasty. And so, so good. It feels even better when Dabi begins to tease your entrance with his middle finger, dipping the tip in and out of your wet pussy. “You want this?” he asks, his voice nothing but a low growl. You nod vigorously and he laughs. “So needy,” he teases as he begins to slowly slide his finger inside of you. “Your ex must’ve not be takin’ care of this pussy. He never made you feel like this, did he?” 

“N-No,” you gasp, eyes blown as you feel your pussy stretch slightly around his finger. He quickly begins to aim up to brush against your clit as he slides his finger in and out of you. Not only that, but he also begins to suck at your clit, sending waves upon waves of pleasure coursing through your body. This shit is crazy! He’s crazy! 

You can feel yourself quickly beginning to reach that peak to your climax. ‘No!’ you think stubbornly. You don’t want this to end. You want to make this moment last. “Wait, Dabi!” you shout, writhing against him. “Stop! Don’t make me cum!” He immediately ceases his movements and pulls away from you, glaring in confusion. “‘Scuse me?” he asks, not sounding happy with your protest. 

You nearly laugh at his reaction. “I wanna make this last,” you explain. “I wanna make you feel exactly how you must made me feel. So stand up.” Dabi still looks pissed he couldn’t make you cum, but listens to you anyway. He stands up, mouth and chin glistening from your juices, and you stand with him. Slowly, you begin to kiss and suck your essense off of his mouth, earning low moans from him. 

Your hands slide down to his broad chest and you grip his shirt collar. “Off please?” you ask, peering up at him through your lashes. You don’t even have to ask twice. In a flash, he’s stripping himself of his shirt and tossing it somewhere on the rooftop. 

You take a moment to admire his beautiful body–so hard and defined with muscle, ink, and burn scars that coat the left side of his body. His nipples, pink and hard, glint with two rings that hang from them and his lower stomach is sinewy with ink black hair. He’s so, so pretty. He must think your stares mean something else because he adverts his eyes from yours. “I know it ain’t picture perfect,” he mutters, sounding ashamed in himself. Your heart leaps with fear, hoping you didn’t ruin tonight for you both. Quickly, you try to fix things by gliding your hands up and down his hard body, admiring his well-defined pecs and abs. “You’re perfect,” you whisper before leaning in to peck his burn scars, running your lips softly over each. 

The low moans and “mmm”s Dabi lets leave his mouth are delicious to you. They only heighten your arousal along with the sound of the party still going on downstairs. The music and chatter are muffled, but the fact that it is still near is so exciting to you. You never pictured yourself one for exhibitonism, but you suppose it takes the right person to bring the freak out of you. 

And baby, do you want to be the freakiest bitch for Dabi. To prove that, you begin to lick and suck along his hardened nipples, tugging on the tiny silver rings hanging from them. “Fuck, baby,” he hums, watching you as you work. His lips are parted and his eyes are hooded. He is completely entranced by you. 

He hasn’t seen shit yet. You begin to kiss down his hardened stomach until you come to his jeans already hanging low on his hips. You stop, your hands at his fly, and look up at him. ‘Okay?’ you ask with your eyes. Slowly, he nods, giving you the green light to finally rid him of his pants. You pull them and his underwear down in one go, eager to see what’s underneath. 

You begin to think you bit off more than you can chew (or suck, rather) when you get a look at his cock for the first time. He is well endowed, thick, and curves upward so his dick slaps against his stomach when you finally release him from his trousers. Black hair curls around his stomach and pubic area, but it isn’t like a jungle. But that isn’t what gets you: it’s the cockhead piercing that glints from the head of his dick in the moonlight. 

You gape at his cock, not sure what to say or do. “You okay?” he asks, laughter in his voice at your silence. “Uh…” That’s all you can say. He’s just so, so big! How could you get him in your mouth? You’re lucky you can even fit one hand around him as you begin to stroke him softly from base to tip. 

Dabi cackles down at you, relishing your fear. “Don’t be scared of it, mama,” he purrs, taking his dick out of your hand and waving it in front of you. You watch, hypnotized…or dickmatized. “You said you wanted to make me feel the way I made you feel, right?” he asks teasingly. “C’mon now. You can do it. Open that pretty mouth.” 

Not wanting to disappoint him, you open your mouth and he slowly begins to slide his dick against your tongue. “There we go,” he coos. “Good girl…take it all in.” You try to do so, your jaw and mouth stretching to accompany his size. “I’m guessin’ I’m bigger than your mans, huh?” he chuckles lowly. 

“Mmm-hmm,” you hum around his cock, the vibrations causing him to moan. You relish the sounds, wanting more. So you begin to move your head back and forth, taking his cock in and out of your throat. You gag and spit all along his dick, causing saliva to drip down his balls and your chin, making your blowjob extra sloppy. Dabi is loving it. He tosses his head back and rolls his eyes to the back of his head, giving you a sight that is fit for only the finest of porn. He’s so, so sexy. And to be able to make him feel good gives you the motivation to fight against your aching jaw and burning throat as you continue to fuck him with your throat. 

“You’re doin’ so good, babe,” he grunts as he begins to roll his hips into your mouth. “So, so good. At this rate, you’ll make me cum.”

You nod your head, coaxing him to do so. You want him to cum. You want to taste all of him in your mouth. But he surprises you when he begins to slow down his hips and pulls his wet cock out of your mouth. “No,” he growls. “If I’m gonna cum, it either has to be on that pretty ass or those titties of yours.” 

You stare up at him then, drinking in his spectacular body and dick standing at attention for you. You then decide that if you are to finally cum, you want it to be wrapped around his cock.

‘Fuck it,’ you think. You don’t care that you barely know him. All of that “getting to know you” shit can wait until after you get him inside of you. “Why not inside of me then?” you purr, standing up to take his hands in yours. 

He blinks at you, dumbfounded. “Without a condom?” he asks. “I don’t have one on me.”

You shake your head, pecking his lips. “I’m on the pill.”

That’s all you need to say to get Dabi to smash his lips hungrily against yours. “Oh, thank fuck,” he sighs, relieved. “I don’t mind beatin’ my dick to the sight of you in front of me, but I’d be lyin’ if I said I didn’t want your pretty little pussy wrapped around me.” 

His dirty words send shivers up your spine. “And you’re okay with this? I mean, we barely know each other and–” 

“I don’t give a fuck,” he growls, already moving you back to the couch again. “I’ll take you out later to get to know you, but right now, I fuckin’ need all of you. Now choose how I’m doin’ you before I lose my fuckin’ mind.” 

You gape at him, dumbfounded and so, so horny. You’ve never had a man be so desperate for you before. You waste no time bending over the couch, presenting your ass and dripping pussy for him. You then look back at him, finding him standing there and stroking himself to the sight of you. “Like this,” you whisper. “Fuck me just like this, Dabi.” 

Dabi is going fucking feral behind you. It takes everything in him to not shove every single inch of his hard, thick cock inside of you as he moves closer to you and begins to stroke your pussy with his cock. “God, look at you, stainin’ up the couch,” he sighs as you twitch and quiver along his dick. “Anyone could look up and see you like this, about to get fucked by someone who is practically a stranger to you.” 

‘I don’t care,’ you want to scream. Anyone could watch if they want. All you want is that dick inside of you now. And then finally, he gives it to you.

He goes slow, taking his sweet time to allow you to get used to him. As soon as his cockhead enters you, your jaw is dropping open and your eyes are blown from how stretched you feel already. No toy could compare to how warm and solid Dabi feels snuggled up in your pussy. Not even your ex could make you feel this full or this good. 

Through it all, you breathe in and out, relaxing your body into the couch cushion. Though it doesn’t hurt, you’re feeling beyond stretched by Dabi and you almost collapse from the feeling. You’re so glad to have the back of the couch to grip as Dabi takes a hold of your hips and bottoms out inside of you. “F-Fuck, Dabi!” you whine, gripping the couch. You can’t believe how good you feel. Where the fuck has he been hiding all this time? 

He begins to bump his hips against your ass a little faster now, the sound of skin slapping filling the air as his heavy balls hit your clit. “Come on now, mama,” he huffs. “You wanna be a big girl, right? Take me just like one. Make me proud.” He begins to fuck you harder, taking a handful of your breasts and fondling them one at a time. 

The feeling is just too much. His dick strokes the most sensitive parts of you as your clit jumps with every slap of his balls against it. And he’s just so deep. He is making you see stars that don’t even compare to the ones coating the night sky above the beautiful view stretched before you. You have no chance to take it all in, too busy taking Dabi’s fat cock as he fucks you into oblivion in your little sundress and heels. 

“Feels good, don’t it?” he grunts into your ear. One hand moves to your ass to gently spank your ass, causing you to moan at the feeling. “Bet you’ve dreamed about this,” he growls to you. “Bet you wanted to get slutted out on my dick for so long. Bet you couldn’t wait for tonight. Bet you planned for this.”

He leans down toward you, his lips grazing your ear. “Bet you’ve wanted to be my good girl for so long,” he growls before his hand comes down on your ass a little harder. 

“God, Dabi, yes!” you scream out to the heavens, gripping the couch for dear life as he fucks you harder. You’ve never felt like this before: so gone. Your eyes are closed and your mind is completely blank from the blinding pleasure you feel, each wave much bigger than the one before and washing over you. 

The pleasure is just too good, and it’s starting to reach a deafening crescendo. You can feel it building in your core, threatening to snap at any moment. “Gonna cum!” you practically sob, your head thrown back. “Gonna cum for you Dabi!” 

Dabi cackles behind you, putting a foot up on the cushion to get a better angle as he continues to fuck your pussy into submission. “Me too,” he grunts. “Want you take it. Take all of me like a big girl, baby.” 

He presses his lips to your ear, leaning down so his dick is hitting that spot that has you seeing the entire galaxy behind your eyelids. “Fuckin’ cum for me, mama,” he demands. “Let me know how good I’m making you feel. Cream all over that dick.”  

And you do. Moans and gasps leave your lips like a chorus as that chord finally snaps. You unravel, cumming all over Dabi’s dick. “Oh, my God!” you scream, your voice reaching heights fit for a shower singing session when you think no one is listening. You cream all over Dabi’s cock buried deep inside of you as he talks you through it, telling you how good of a girl you are as he strokes your outer thighs. 

“Gonna cum too,” he grunts, his hips snapping against your ass again and again as he chases his high. “You gonna take all of it, baby, hm?” 

“Y-Yes!” you choke out. “Please, please cum for me!” You begin tossing your ass back to meet his thrusts, wanting to feel him burst inside of you. And that does it. He grips your hips for dear life and cums deep inside of you with a raspy, loud moan that makes your stomach leap and your pussy clench around his pulsing cock. 

You take every single ounce of his warm, creamy cum that shoots into your pussy, never once pulling away. You can feel it coating your walls, filling you up to the point where you curl your toes and gasp at the feeling coursing through your body. Finally, Dabi’s hips begin to slow until he is sloppily fucking you, chasing the rest of his high. Then with a soft groan, he pulls out, but it isn’t over for you yet. His cock is still hard as he begins to slide the head along your lower back and ass, coating your skin in his cum. “So you smell like me,” he softly says. “So no other man will even try.” 

You let out a weak moan as you feel his nut coat your skin and drip down your thighs, making them slick and wet. Finally, he releases you and you slump against the couch, exhausted and spent, but feeling so, so good. After giving you some time to compose yourself, Dabi helps you fix your dress (without the panties) and fishes a napkin out of his pocket to wipe his cum off of your thighs. ‘What a gentleman,’ you think, giggling to yourself. 

He seems sheepish and almost shy standing there, now in his briefs. “I didn’t…hurt you, did I?” he carefully asks as if afraid of the answer. You slowly shake your head, still in a daze. “That was amazing,” you sigh. “I’ve never been fucked like that before.” A proud smile stretches across Dabi’s face. “Just what you needed?” he asks. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, nuzzling your face into his shoulder. “Absolutely,” you hum contently. “I hope it’s what you needed too.” He hums in agreement, pressing a kiss to the crown of your forehead. “That and much more.” You smile happily into his chest, glad that it was just as good for him as it was for you. 

For a while, you two stay like that: hugging in the warm breeze. Finally, Dabi clears his throat. “So…now what?” he awkwardly asks. 

“Well, we can’t go back inside like this,” you giggle. You motion to your dress still hiked up on your thighs and his semi-nakedness, though you’re sure that his physique would be welcomed. “And I think we both need to recover after those mind-blowing orgasms,” you purr, your pussy still sensitive from his dick beating it up. You curl up on the sofa and poke your bottom lip out at him. “Cuddle with me?” you coo. 

Dabi chortles at you, rolling his clear, blue eyes. “Such a baby,” he chuckles. “You’re lucky I like feelin’ you in my arms.” His sweet words make you flush in the breeze as he settles down next to you. He scoops you into his lap and securely wraps his muscled arms around you, squeezing you to him as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear. 

You feel the same way. You loop your arms around his neck and cradle his head to your beating heart. “So is a date in order after this?” he curiously asks. “I’m not too familiar with this shit, so…” 

You can feel the awkwardness radiating off of him. A laugh bubbles in your chest. Leave it to him to feel awkward about dating even though he just fucked you doggystyle on a rooftop.

“Yes, Dabi,” you laugh. “I’d love to go on a date with you.” You feel him smile into your chest and he squeezes you closer to him, making you giggle. You want to stay like this forever, wrapped up in him. 

When your phone suddenly rings, you feel like shooting somebody. You whine as you grab your phone, Dabi keeping his arms wrapped around you to make sure you don’t fall. Keigo’s name flashes across the screen.

“That’s Keigo,” you sigh. I hope no one broke anything.” You answer the phone, going back to cuddling Dabi. “Yeah?” 

“So I’m guessin’ you made our guest feel welcomed?” Keigo immediately asks. “You two have been gone for, like, an hour.” 

“It hasn’t been that long, Keigo,” you scoff though you really don’t know what time it is. “How’s the party? Is my apartment still intact?” 

“Don’t you trust me?” he scoffs, but you don’t answer that question. “So you and Dabi are together now? I knew it was only a matter of time until he decided to pull up his big boy pants and tell you how he felt.” 

You scowl in confusion, your heart picking up speed. “How did you–?” 

“Know?” he finishes and gives a laugh. “Kid, I’ve known this shit for years! It just wasn’t my business to tell. However, you can thank yourselves because you saved time. Now everyone knows you two are an item.” 

Your eyes widen, hoping he doesn’t mean what you think he means. “Huh?” you dumbly ask, earning an eyebrow raise from Dabi. “Everybody totally heard you up there, sis!” Rumi yells in the background. “You ain’t slick!” You hear laughter from Shiggy and Natsuo in the background which embarrasses you even more. You feel like hiding in a hole and never coming out. Everyone heard you? Were you that loud? 

“We turned up the music, but it could only block out so much,” Keigo chuckles, humored at your embarrassment. “I didn’t know you could get that loud. You ever consider singing?” 

“Goodbye, Keigo,” you growl, cutting off his cackle by immediately hanging up. You toss your phone to the side but not before turning off your ringtone. You don’t want anything or anyone ruining this moment for you. “What’d he say?” Dabi curiously asks. 

“Nothing,” you quickly reply. You slide off of his lap so you’re sitting next to him and snuggle back into his chest, holding him close. “Just that he’s an asshole.” 

Dabi chuckles, wrapping an arm around you as he puffs on the rest of the blunt, smoke billowing into the starry night sky above. “Well, that’s just a fact, babe.”  

THE END.

[readychilledwine]

Requiem for a Dream

Part 3: Change

(Two months into Rhysand's Return home)

Rhysand and Rhiannon are still walking around their sexual tension, but our high lord has finally decided enough is enough. After a month of lingering touching, glances, and true re-courtship, he wants his mate in his bed.

Warnings - Smut, NSFW, D/S dynamics (daddy/Princess and sex slave/master) ownership kink, praise kink, oral (F Recv), not edited. Minors- DNI

A/N - This is kind of that last step before the peak of Rhys, in reality, reclaiming his sexual being, which is a journey a lot of SA survivors go through. While everyone's journey is different and models different patterns, I felt Rhysand's NEEDED to show aspects of regaining domination and control, and I do not feel that was truly shown or touched on by SJM.

Rhiannon's character, at this point, may not be for everyone. She is very submissive due to her own trauma and back story I crafted for her. Let me know your thoughts, feelings, if you want more, have gripes. Also, the song in mind is "Change (In the House of Flies)" by Deftones. The theme to one of my absolute favorite movie sex scenes in history.

Author ps - as an active member of the kink scene, I see festish written on here, but it never comes with this warning and when we do not know who is reading our stories, I feel like it needs to be said.

Please DO NOT ENGAGE IN BDSM with a partner you do not fully trust. BDSM, dom/sub dynamics, all varieties, and sex in general need to be based on trust and the care for each other's emotional well-being. You all deserve the best, give yourselves the ability to have that 💜 love yourself enough to WANT and NEED to have that.

✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

Part One Part Two Part Four

Rhys had convinced Rhiannon to join him for dinner alone in the River House. They ate in silence, hands held over the table. They were dressed casually. She was wearing a dark plum sweater that went down to her mid thigh, tight black leggings and fuzzy socks. Rhysand had on a cream sweater with casual pants.

He had asked the twins to make her favorite meal. Elk steaks, potatoes with gravy, greens, and homemade bread and butter. He had personally flown into Velaris, arriving at a sweet shop his mate absolutely loves, asking if they had her favorite cupcakes available that day. They had made them for him, without hesitation as he did some other shopping for her. She was eyeing them with a sparkle he had not seen from her since his arrival home. But after all, what female could possibly resist the imported vanilla and sea salt caramel this bakery used.

"When were you going to call on the bargain with Feyre? I'm worried about her powers eating her alive." Rhys looked at Rhiannon. "He won't train her. She needs to be with someone who will."

Rhys nodded. "I assume the realm gave you that information?" She nodded. "I would like to ensure my own home and court are on a stable foundation before bringing her here."

Rhiannon was no fool. She knew immediately what he meant. She gently put her silverware down, turning to look at her husband. "I did not realize there were issues in the foundation. Is something wrong in the court?"

Rhysand sighed. He wouldn't be able to woo her now. This conversation was happening, and it was happening much sooner than he anticipated for the night. "Not necessarily with the court itself. I worry more about my family and Inner Circle." Rhys paused to turn to her, "My wife hasn't kissed me since I arrived home, despite many chances and opportunities to do so. I keep attempting to recourt her with countless gifts, praise, and flirtation, but I just cannot seem to bring her into my bed." Rhys paused to watch her look down. "You are my most trusted advisor when it comes to Illyrian Females, Rhiannon. Do you have any suggestions on how I can get my wife to be close to me again?"

Rhiannon put her silverware down, clearing her throat before responding. "Is she possibly afraid that reciprocating your affections may hurt you or the progress you've made?"

Rhysand smirked, finally getting the answers he needed. "I would not know," he laced their fingers together. "Aside from asking me how my day was, doing her duties to fill me in on her assignments, and small conversations, she has all but closed me out. I know she loves me. I just worry that maybe I am not doing enough to show her I would like to begin the process of us going back to who we are."

Rhiannon felt tears lining her eyes. "I know you still have nightmares about her, Rhys. I just feel like sleeping with you, touching you, or even kissing you is retraumatizing you. I love you too much to risk hurting you emotionally and mentally."

He nodded, taking a sip of his wine before beginning to speak to her. "I appreciate how much you care. I have always loved your empathy and kindness, darling. I want to sleep with you at my side, though. I want to hold you. To kiss you. To fuck you until I cannot tell where you stop and I begin." He took another deep drink. "I am ready to try, my nightingale. I need to try. Madja believes I am ready. I believe I am ready. Please, Rhiannon, come to bed with me tonight."

She nodded. "And we will stop if it is too much?" He sent her confirmation down the bond. "Mor made me wear something pretty under this for you. Just in case." His ears perked up at that. He took her hand, dinner long forgotten, and pulled her to their large bedroom.

Rhysand took the chair that sat across from their bed, leaning forward on his elbows as Rhiannon stood close to him. "Take your clothing off." Her scent hit him immediately. The sweet scent of her arousal mixed with the normal soft smell of moonflowers and honey. He watched, eyes fixated on every inch of slowly exposed skin as her sweater was removed and set on the desk near them.

She went to remove her leggings next after he gave her a nod, exposing her muscled thighs to him first. He groaned loudly at the sight of her mating mark. The delicate pattern of swirls and stars that ran the expanse of her leg, mapping out the night sky at the exact time they accepted the bond.

Mor had picked a wonderful little set for her to wear. A black haltered bra made of strictly lace and mesh that left nothing to his imagination, a matching high waist thong, and stockings that stopped at her midthigh. He patted his lap, leaning back as she crawled to straddle him.

They studied each other for a few seconds. His fingers ghosting the new muscles she had earned while training with Cassian, then her pretty throat, then her breasts and stomach, before reaching her panty line. "Mate, please." The bond was banging like a war drum in both of their ribcages, right where it connected their hearts. "Rhysand, please."

He pulled her to him, locking their lips for the first time in 50 years and moaning at the taste of her. It was exactly how he remembered, yet so different. Her lips were soft on his, tasting faintly of the sweet red wine she had been drinking. The bond began to almost hum, begging for more.

She fully submitted to him, allowing him to control the pace and pressure. One of his arms quickly wrapped around her hourglass waist while the other went up her back, allowing his hand to tangle into her hair.

It was a familiar position to them. One they had been caught in countless times by Azriel, by Cassian, by his mother. He almost smiled, remembering the first time Azriel had walked in on Rhysand pounding into his sister while she moaned and cried for him. Every single punch of the absolute beating her older brother had given him that day was worth it. Every single punch Azriel still gave him was worth it.

Their first time seemed so distant now as he pulled away from her, lifting her and carrying her to their marriage bed, kissing her throat, and whispered praise into her soft skin. He laid her gently down and sat on his knees between her legs.

Her dark hair was spread out in every direction, her pupils slightly dilated as she began to enter the part of her mind and behavior only he had the pleasure of seeing. Her lips were swollen, bringing out the soft blush they naturally had even more. He ran his thumb down them, smiling as she immediately opened her mouth and began to suck the digit, looking at him with her wide eyes.

"Such a beautiful little treat, aren't you, darling?" He pulled his thumb from her lips, "You're dripping already. Daddy wants to have his favorite dessert. Is that okay with his princess?" She whined, her back arching slightly off the bed. "Words, my darling. Daddy asked you a question."

She looked up at him, wide eyed. "Please Daddy. Need you. I'll be a good girl." Her submission had him ripping his own shirt off and removing his pants with speed he hardly knew he still had in him as he pulled her to the edge of the bed and dropped to his knees to be closer to her dripping cunt.

"I wanted to take my time with you, worship you and this body of yours, but I fear I just do not have the patience for all of that today." He misted the now offensive lace from her body, leaving only the thigh highs and growled at the sight before him. "Such a pretty cunt, Rhiannon. Who does she belong to?"

Rhiannon was already breathing heavily. "You. I am yours."

He growled, throwing her legs over his shoulder. "Good girl." Without warning Rhys began his assault. Licking long stripes from her leaking hole the the apex of her thighs. He drank from her like a man receiving water after being trapped in a desert for too long. He was starving for her. Aching for her. He groaned as her hands found his hair and gently tugged to bring him closer to her clit.

He had missed this. He had missed waking her up with his head between her legs. He had missed the feeling of her tight entrance twitching on his tongue. He had missed the sweet taste of her. He pushed his tongue into her, nose nudging that sweet bundle of nerves, "Fuck daddy, yes!" Her back arched of the bed, and he instantly locked her down with his forearm, growling at her in warning.

Keep still like a good little toy, or I will leave you dripping and aching. He continued his feast, knowing fully well he couldn't, and wouldn't, do that to her. He wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking lightly, and moaning as it earned him a harsher tug on his hair.

His free hand moved up, taking some of her wetness on one finger before slowly pushing it into her. She was tight. So tight. His pretty girl only had her own fingers to play with, and he realized he'd need to slowly stretch her back open all over again for him to slip inside of her like the little sleeve he had made her to be again.

He smirked at the thought of retraining her to be constantly wet and ready to take him at a moment's notice. He curled the one finger, chuckling against her as she swore and prayed to the Gods. Just Rhys or daddy is fine, darling. There are no Gods here to save you from me.

"Rhys!" She gasped loudly as he slowly put another finger inside of her, moving them in and out and curling them into the soft spongy spot that he knew made her see stars. "Fuck please don't stop." He doubled his efforts, moving his fingers faster, sucking and licking at her clit a little harder as she began to flutter around him. That tight coil in her stomach was winding itself up faster and faster with each well planned lick, suck, and curl.

Is my little princess going to cum? A loud whimper of his name came as her breathing picked up. Does my princess have permission to cum?

"Daddy please. I need it. I need to cum. Please." Rhys removed his mouth from her nerves, keeping himself within licking distance.

"Who makes you feel this good? Who is the only male who gets to make you feel like this, huh?" He went back to licking circles and figure 8s on her as his fingers began to move even faster.

The room was filled with her cries, her pleads, and the sound of her wetness. Rhys released his hold on her hips, only for tendrils of darkness to take his forearms place to begin the quick mission of stroking his cock. I asked you a fucking question, Rhiannon. Scream. Scream for all of Velaris who is making you feel this good.

And she did. Her walls locked and began squeezing his fingers as she screamed his name over and over. The tight coil in her stomach releasing and causing more wetness to flood her mate. He moaned against her core, refusing to slow down until he also found his peak. That refusal instantly sent Rhiannon back over the edge with little effort. One graze of his teeth gently against her clit had her crying out of him again, and then him roaring as he came seconds later.

His head fell into her thigh, peppering small kisses there as his hips rutted, and they rode out their bliss together. She tugged the bond, silently begging him to come hold her, and he obeyed. He laid on his back, pulling her into his side, and began playing with her hair. He placed a soft kiss on her lips before trapping her in a more heated one.

One month, he said to her mentally. In one more month, I'm fucking you on every surface of this house. She smiled against his chest, nodding.

"Is that a promise, my love?" She held her pinky to him, making him chuckle and smile as he enloped it into his larger one and pulled her into another deep kiss. A feeling of the familiar zip of a promise being made hit them both. New tattoos, three small stars, adorned their left ring fingers, right above their wedding rings.

✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

Requiem for a Dream Tag List:

@horneybeach1

@we-were-beautiful

@cat-or-kitten

@twsssmlmaa

@dream-alittlebiggerdarling

@tothestarsandwhateverend

[jittyjames]

so kinda want to talk about something that happened in the past few days and an ongoing issue within the ham community atm. i know y'all have seen all of the stuff going around, people hiding behind anonymity to tear each other down, name dropping accounts to get them harassed etc.. the blog was fun at first, and i even enjoyed putting in harmless opinions on women's representation and aaron burr being my favorite character, but it quickly devolved into something concerning. but hey! you can't censor people by deleting or ignoring posts on a confession blog right? that would defeat the purpose. so of course all of this discord will be allowed.

except the moderator had no problem taking down my anonymous post that called out the undermining of harmful slurs being used by the community.

i blurred the person's name i was referring to because although it was all over the confessions blog and they have no problem with airing this minor's name after she's already gotten death threats, i don't want to spread it outside of there for people not involved. so here's the following conversation that took place.

(context for anyone who's had the great fortune of not running into this blog: someone had said a homophobic slur in a derogatory way and there was a question if they could reclaim it or not.) (rebuttal is also not the right word, but my mind was racin and that's what we got. i meant response.)

at first, i thought there was a misunderstanding. that someone had asked them to take something down and they mistook my post for it since they made a post saying they did in fact take down a post by someone's request. but i had a feeling it was something more. clearly, the moderator values someone who doesn't want people speaking out about an issue of homophobia being down played's opinion over an actual member of the lgbtq+ community. it's 2024 and we're still having to have the conversation about if slurs are bad or not, and it's frankly exhausting.

i might have adjusted my original post a bit more in the actual tumblr inbox, but this was the gist of what it said bc i always write down what i want to say first outside of the app (social anxiety says hi 🤪). as you can see it lines up with the conversation at hand— the conversation that was allowed and was still up, i might add— and i was polite about everything— unlike the actual hate mongering on the account. i really don't know where this attitude came from or why my specific post about queerness was targeted out of so many, but as you can see, they did so clear as day. to my knowledge, no other post has been taken down despite there being multiple continued conversations that are vague enough to not specifically be about fandom (like the morality of long distance incest, arguing over which hamilton artist they don't like, and people complaining about the drama going on across the blog.) those were allowed to be up, and i believe they should be if those are the conversations that people want to have about the fandom space. so why the detestation in these responses? it's not even veiled disdain. you would think i was the one bullying random minors just because i didn't like their art style or the one sending death threats. when a marginalized person expresses concern over something happening under your watch, why is the first line of action to be hateful and flippant while making excuses that don't even make sense and referring to rules that aren't even followed. despite all of this, it's my opinion it didn't even break said rules. the conversation at hand was about slur usage in the fandom. why did the posts claiming people were basically dumb for finding an issue with it stay, and mine get deleted?

why has the biggest crime on that blog—by the moderator's standards, the post so horrible they had to step in and delete and tell the person to leave the page—a gentle reminder that some people find the use of homophobic slurs a disrespectful practice when the word is in the wrong mouth. even if someone disagreed with my post, which is their right, why was it erased completely?

but that blog was taken down. and we thought it was over. but strangely enough last night, my anon box was filled with so many hate comments i had to turn off anon, and i have no plans of turning them back on. and it appears the blog was remade with rules but only one specific rule.

now here’s the issue. whore can’t really be compared to homophobic slurs or racial slurs due to the way it’s evolved in culture. and let’s say whore is a slur. let’s go with that. just because you listen to music or consume content that has people reclaiming slurs, it does not give you the right to reclaim them and say them for yourself. that is ignorance. you can't silence a community by saying they can't take issue over SLURS with this excuse used over and over again when it's not even an appropriate once. something that will always stand is people should not be saying slurs they can't reclaim.

you all can keep playing around with that blog if you want. just remember while you're arguing and cursing each other over fictional queer ships, actual queer issues are being censored by the person hosting y'all for no apparent reason other than some unnamed person asking for it's removal and the moderator's apparent disdain for queer people asking people not to use harmful slurs. which makes no sense to anyone if you think about it for more than two seconds.

i'm just a blip in this fandom, and there's so many of you i haven't gotten the fortune of talking to, but you need to sit down and ask why you guys are doing this to yourselves in the first place. why are you continuously feeding in to a bullying platform when you know how it's effecting people? when you know the moderator's intentions have been made clear in just want hatred bred throughout the fandom? why are we so dead set on being mean to each other? maybe you think i'm trying to stir up trouble or be self-important by butting my nose into people's business, and that's your right to think that. but this account has split the fandom in two and made it's fun diminish for everyone involved. you can say that every fandom is like this, but i've been in the fandom since the beginning and active on this account for almost three years and i've never seen anything like this. if you want to see change and for the fandom to go back to normal, stop torturing yourselves and calling it entertainment. the drama was silly and fun in the beginning, but now with specific attacks on minors and disparaging an entire community by telling us to take our "queer concern" elsewhere and saying we can't speak out against people using slurs, it's gotten worrying.

obviously, i'm not going to tell anyone what to do or fault them if they continue to play the intoxicating game of ganging up on someone because they don't know who you are and you know you won't face any repercussions. but just realize it could be you or a close friend being endlessly harassed and silenced. i used to think there was no place in this community for things like this, but there's always something that weasels it's way in.

it's basic and you've heard it from every single adult in your life, but think before you post. think about what the intentions are. think about why you find all of this fun. think about why this person behaves the way they do.

[pixiedust-poppers]

you know funny enough, I feel like Jake and the neverland pirates would actually do really well as a Disney channel show for older kids (like say Gravity falls) instead of a preschool show. You’d be able to get more into lore and emotional stuff. Maybe even plot?

I don’t know, if they ever did decide to reboot the show it’s a neat idea.

*grabs your shoulders and shakes you excitedly*

THAT'S WHAT I'M SAYING!!!! LIKE!!!!

Ok, I think there is something to be done with Jake and his crew and his dynamic with Peter and Hook. Like for example how do the kids feel that Peter is only here for a day or a few hours, just enough to help with their issue? I'm sure the kids have a bit of an unhealthy attachment to him as he's really the only guardian figure they know, and as shown in Peter Pan's return, they all crave his attention so bad that they fuck up the mission trying to impress him! Like sure they can call him to bring him back to Neverland, but they don't perhaps he implemented a rule that they can only call him for emergencies. Which is also kinda hm. But you know he doesn't completely neglect them.

Word vomit incoming

Now let's take this a step deeper; what about Peter's relationship with them individually, it's clear he has a favorite, and it's Jake like that isn't a contest. Even if the show tries not to portray it in that manner it's obvious (I mean for fuck sake his name is in the title lol). His item(s)? A wooden sword personally hand-carved by Peter himself. After completing the Forever Quest, a golden sword called the Destiny Sword (towards the end of season 3) turns him into Captain Jake after giving the others a rousing speech about teamwork and how they can all get together to defeat Fathom with it. So it's clear he's the chosen (I'll touch more on that pressure later) by Neverland. But what does that mean for Izzy and Cubby? I mean sure they got items from him and he does care about them, but they're not as special as Jake. And they're never going to be, I mean god, Disney didn't even bother to make them Birthday episodes yet gave Jake two, then gave Skully and a minor character one. So it could develop into them realizing that while they are well-liked they aren't loved by Peter, Cubby is in denial about this revelation as he has gotten more gifts than Izzy. Izzy, the only girl in the main cast, is grated by this knowledge, she KNOWS and she has known for a long time. Enough to the point where perhaps she deserves a villain arc (then a redeemed villain arc) with the help of Captain Hook, who sees this opportunity to manipulate her for his gain.

Ok so jumping, let's go back to that Captain Jake issue. I personally didn't like Season 4, I thought it was shit BUT this new Captain Jake in a reboot could bring up an interesting little angst point called, "The pressure of being forced to be THE responsible one when you're only still a child." You might have all these other well-established Captains around you but, they depend on you to think of ideas, and come up with solutions to save the day, if you fail then it's on you but you're only 8 or 10 years old!!! A user mentioned this before but Jake could develop an entirely new personality as a Captain to make himself seem smarter and more capable than he actually is! This can go two ways A) he burns out and he burns out REAL bad and rather fast. B) The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, and the realization of how much power he holds makes him realize he can almost do whatever he wants because he IS the 2nd most powerful person after Peter. This then comes his Power-tripping arc and the consequences of Peter not dividing this power between the trio, and being gassed up everyone, which raises his ego through the roof. This can only end badly obv and it does, how? idk but just know it does.

As for Captain Hook, because this is New Disney he can't be 100% back to his OG self but he can absolutely be raised to be more of an asshole in a Disney channel show and probably a bit fucked up. But you also would have to thread carefully on how you do these things, because one wrong move and Disney will have you rewrite the whole thing and tone it down more than need be. I also think there would be more to explore with the kids and their dynamic with him, since they also would have more nuance to them. They could have more stakes with him, and could honestly do more messed up shit with them he could make them have an inner conflict, he could manipulate one to join his side temporarily. Put the kids in more life-threatening situations that they don't come out unscathed from. Hell, you know what, I want him to win some episodes and get his way with Jake and his crew being powerless to stop it. It would teach a lesson that some days, you just can't win, someone who is nasty will win and get away with it and you have to be ok with that! (if you have resourced all your options first) Life will not always go your way. As for him and Red Jessica, show a toxic relationship, I mean come on do you REALLY think she has a thing for hook lol, it was shoehorned Hetero-shipping bait and it worked now can we do something else with it? As for smee, sharky and bones? I guess they can be less friendly to the sea pups, it would be more of a loyalty thing rather than a personal thing.

Also, the show could bring back the lost boys, to make the island seem less empty than it is, and maybe a different set of kids to replace the Native Americans.

Finally, to end this word vomit, the relationship between the kids. I really beg it be explored more. Now don't get me wrong they can have a wholesome and loving bond but not everything has to be peachy-keen. Like sure Jake is their captain but do they, not envy or resent him in some way? For example, they're all bright but Izzy is shown to be the brightest she has more knowledge about Neverland and its artifacts, so why is she not captain? Is it because she isn't naive enough? She isn't as nice or forgiving as Jake? She has no issue snapping at you when she's fed up? Then there's cubby, does he even have the real guts to be cut up for this type of thing? The classic "why him and not me?" type of deal. Then there's Cubby, does he hate being just stuck as coconut boy by his peers and other pirates? Will he ever break out of his shell, does he have a breaking point with his friends? Then Jake gets annoyed that they're not as in sync as they once were, he kinda hates that they're developing on their own and steadily gaining more and more independence. They're willing to talk back to him, be rude, and do less trio activities. Which leads to more conflicting ideas, possibly fights, and less "what I say goes!". He is scared of them changing and becoming their own individuals, he's scared that they might be growing up.

Sorry this is so so so long and rambly, I just have a lot to say about a reboot for this show that I cannot help myself.

[babyjakes]

forever and a day | 53. accident.

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

← last chapter | series masterlist | next chapter →

summary | a story in which america’s favorite captain gives a new life and family to a five-year-old girl who has suffered well beyond her years at the hands of hydra.

characters | dad!steve rogers, girl/willa rogers (original character)

warnings | AU similar enough to OU to include spoilers to many Marvel movies (Age of Ultron and beyond). action and fight scenes with violence and killing. injuries/mild gore. mature themes related to and semi-graphic depictions of child abuse/neglect, past CSA and CSM, and their aftermath (emaciation, wounds, scarring, etc). medical abuse (including sterilization) and experimentation. ptsd/trauma symptoms in a child (developmental discrepancies, de-humanized behavior, detachment, extreme fears). medical treatment of CSM and other aftermath of abuse.trauma-informed therapeutic treatment of ECT. minor mentions of disordered eating. themes relating to abuse of power/authority and immoral interrogation tactics including SA (with brief depictions.) evil!Tony Stark.

[Bucky]

The sound of the doorbell ringing in the middle of the night rouses me from my usual restless slumber. Grunting as I twist from my side to my back on my mattress, I stare at the ceiling as my mind takes several moments to adjust to being awake again. Who the hell could that be? I think to myself, my heart beginning to pound lightly in my chest as anxiety builds in my throat. I don't know who would come knocking at an hour like this, but given my past, I'm heavily inclined to be skeptical.

Forcing myself up to a sitting position, I glance over at the red numbers of my alarm clock glowing faintly in the dark. 2:49am. What on earth?

Dragging myself out of bed, I switch on my bedside lamp, fumbling around on the ground to find an overshirt and throwing it on over my pajamas before walking slowly out of the room. I make my way up to the front of the apartment slowly, putting on as few lights as possible for myself in an attempt to minimize the amount that can be detected from outside. By the time I reach the front door, my whole body is shaking. Cursing the fact that I have no peephole or window to see out easily, I clear my throat, asking firmly through the thick wood, "Who's there?"

Almost too quiet to detect, a muffled voice responds, "Bucky? I-it's Willa. C-can I-... c-can you-... sorry, sorry for b-bothering you." Realizing who it is, my entire body relaxes as I let out a sigh of relief. I immediately undo the locks and open up the door to find the poor thing shivering out in nothing but her light blue teddy bear pajama shirt and undies, carrying a mess of bedsheets at her feet. Her cheeks are bright red and stained with tears, her big green eyes glancing up shamefully towards me.

"Willa- hi," I murmur, a bit stumped by her appearance. "Hi sweetheart, are you alright? What're you doing up so late, hmm?" I ask, ushering her in the door. Closing it behind her and kneeling down to her level, I look over her once more. Noticing that her underwear are soaked through, with her matching pajama pants balled up along with the mess of sheets, the dots start connecting in my head; she probably had an accident in her sleep. I still don't know, though, how or why she ended up at my door.

"'m sorry. D-did I wake you up? 'm so sorry," she mumbles, her head hanging lamely as she sniffles.

"It's okay, bunny. Don't worry about it," I tell her gently, unsure of what to do or say. "Are you okay, sweetie? What're you doing here? Does Steve know where you are?" At the man's name, the girl flinches slightly, shaking her head.

"'m sorry. Tried t-to do it by m'self but c-couldn't reach," she rambles as a few more tears make their way down her flushed cheeks. "Please don't tell D-Daddy. He'll be s-so mad."

"What do you mean, doll? Couldn't reach what?" I ask, leaning my face in a bit closer and raising my brow sympathetically at her.

Keeping her gaze on the floor, she whimpers, "Th-the machine, to wash m-my sheets. W-wet them... while I was s-sleeping. H-had a nigh'mare. Don't beat me, please. Please don't." More tears drip down her nose and onto the floor as she quivers, my heart breaking at her pleas.

"No sweetie, I won't beat you. You're alright, doll," I soothe warmly, reaching out to rub her back lightly. Jumping, she sniffles as she eyes my arm warily, clearly not trusting my gentle touch. "It's okay to have accidents, Willa. No one's gonna hurt you for it; I certainly won't. You need help cleaning up your sheets?" I ask. She nods defeatedly. "Okay. We can wash them in my machine, okay? Your pajama pants, too, and your undies. And we can get you cleaned up too, kiddo. How does that sound?" I offer.

"Y-yes please," she agrees quietly. Giving her a smile, I carefully take the contents of her hands from her.

"Alright missy, follow me," I tell her as I rise to my feet, walking back through the apartment to the washer and dryer, which are tucked in a closet by the bathroom. Willa trails behind me silently with her head still lowered, a stray tear still making its way down her face every once and a while.

Opening up the folding closet doors, I load what the child gave me into the top machine before crouching down again at her height, asking softly, "Could I get you a big t-shirt to wear while we wash your clothes? That way you can still keep covered up," I offer, not wanting to ask her to give up the underwear until she has something else to cover herself with. Receiving a nod, I stand again, going into one of the baskets of clean clothes I've yet to put away from my last cycle that sits in the closet beside the stacked machines.

"Here, how about this," I try, pulling out an old maroon shirt that seems like it'll fit her somewhat like a dress. She nods as I hand it to her, suggesting, "How about I cover my eyes and turn around while you get changed. Is that okay?" I ask carefully, not wanting to cross the little girl's boundaries. She nods warily as I give her a comforting smile, covering my eyes as promised with both of my hands and turning around.

I can hear quite shuffling as the child gets changed. After a few moments, she tells me, "'m done."

"Okay bug," I hum as I turn back around and uncover my eyes, taking her soiled clothes off the ground and loading them with the rest in the machine. Measuring out some detergent and popping it in the washer as well, I hit the button to start the cycle, the cheery chimes of the machine sounding as the water begins whirring inside. Turning back to the little girl, I crouch down again to her height, my heart aching as she winces slightly. "If you want, you can use my bathtub to get cleaned up. I don't have baby wipes, but I can give you a washcloth and some soap and you can use the tub's faucet. Does that sound alright?" She nods silently as her wide eyes gaze into mine, seeming relieved that she'll be allowed to do it on her own.

"Alright bunny, this way," I tell her as I rise back up to a standing position, guiding her over and into the bathroom. Switching the light on, I make my way over to the tub and get the water running, making sure it's a comfortable temperature for her before stepping back over to the cabinet under the sink and pulling her out a clean washcloth. Willa stands sheepishly in the doorway, watching my every move as I prepare the things for her, grabbing a big fluffy towel and setting it down right outside the tub. "Here's the soap I have; it's some really nice hand-made stuff I got at the market," I tell her as I place the bar down on the edge of the tub along with the cloth. "Okay sweetheart, how about I go back out into the living room and let you get cleaned up, and you can come join me when you're done," I propose.

"N-no beating?" she mumbles quietly, still frightened that she might be punished for her mistake.

"No babydoll, no beating," I promise her. "You did a good job, coming and asking for help," I add, remembering something Steve had told me about her therapy and exposure work. While it would've made a lot more sense for her to seek out Steve instead of me, the fact that she asked anyone at all is progress. "Willa, can I ask you a question?" I ask slowly, not wanting to overwhelm her or make her fears escalate. Her eyes widen slightly, but she nods. "Honey, why didn't-... why didn't you ask Steve?" I question softly. "If you're worried that I might beat you, too, then... what difference did it make?"

Her gaze falls to the floor as she trembles in the doorway, swallowing hard before revealing her answer. "D-don't... don't want Daddy to beat m-me," she whispers. "P-pounded that guy's face in... h-he could hurt me really b-bad." My heart breaks at her revelations, but they make sense, so I nod. She does have a point. While I was mutilated to be a super soldier like Steve, it's no secret that he's the stronger of the two of us. If Willa's train of thought was that either way she would be beaten, and she was just trying to avoid as much damage as possible, her choice makes sense.

"Little dove," I breathe sadly, not even sure where to begin. "Sweetie, Steve would never hurt you; he'd never beat you. He loves you so much, so, so much, and he'd never do something like that," I tell her, but I know that her worries are deeply engraved in her brain, and that it'll take a lot more time and experience than just simple words to put them at ease. "Everyone has accidents, honey. Everyone does when they're little, especially when they've gone through as many scary things as you have," I reason. "Steve knows that; he would never be angry with you for it. He'd do the same thing I'm doing, help you clean up and wash the sheets. That's all," I coo, wishing I could prove it to her. "Bunny, you're always welcome to come to me for help. I'll always do my best to help you. But Steve wants to help you too, Willa. That's what he's there for; that's what Daddy's are for."

Willa sniffles and I sigh, deciding that at this point it's probably wisest to just let the poor thing get clean before pursuing any further discussion on the matter. "Here, I'll let you wash up," I tell her as I step past her out into the hallway, closing the door over behind me before heading back out into the living room.

As I continue to listen to the water run faintly from the bathroom, I pull my phone out from my pocket, unlocking it and pulling up Steve's contact. As much as I hate going against Willa's wishes, I think the smartest thing to do would be to have him come down here and address the situation as soon as possible. Besides, I don't want him to wake up and find her missing; that would scare the shit out of him. Letting out a deep sigh, I hit his number, a call popping up and ringing only a few times before there's an answer.

"Buck?" Steve's sleepy voice calls.

"Hey pal," I greet lowly, taking a seat on the couch. "You're probably gonna wanna throw on some shoes and come down here."

[Steve]

"She what?" I exclaim as I throw on a sweatshirt, making my way quickly through the apartment to the front door to slip on my shoes.

"Yeah, she showed up in nothing but her pajama shirt and underwear, carrying all her sheets at her feet. Said she had a bad dream," he explains.

"Oh god," I breathe, brushing my hair back anxiously as I make my way out the front door, being sure to lock it behind me. "I'm so sorry, Buck. I had no idea she would do something like this. I should've guessed something might-"

"No, no, it's okay, Steve," he tells me quickly. "Really, it's no trouble. I'm glad she felt safe enough to come to me about it. It's good that she came to someone, anyone."

"You said she was begging not to be beaten?" I repeat what he had said, making my way across the porch to the stairs.

"Yeah. She's still pretty worried that she's going to be punished for stuff like this. I told her that neither of us would ever do that, of course, but it's just gonna take time," he replies.

"Yeah- we're working on it with her therapist, but I think you're right," I agree as I make my way down to Bucky's apartment. "I'm outside," I let him know.

The front door to the home opens up before me, and I switch my phone off, shoving it in my pocket as my friend lets me in. Closing the door behind me, he offers me a sad smile. "Hey, punk," he mutters, patting me lightly on the shoulder.

"Hey, thanks again for everything," I say sincerely, still feeling incredibly guilty for all the trouble he's gone through for the little girl.

"No problem, pal," he waves it off as I step into the apartment, hearing water running back from what I'm guessing is the bathroom. "She's getting herself cleaned off right now. I have her sheets and clothes in the washer, and she's got a big t-shirt of mine to wear in the meantime."

"Okay. Thanks Buck," I thank him again. "Does she know you called me?"

"Uhh... no," he admits, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "She begged me not to tell you, but I figured it would be better for you to come and get the situation addressed." I nod, thankful for his decision. Hearing the water shutting off, Buck looks behind him before turning back to me, suggesting, "Maybe we should meet her at the bathroom, so she doesn't try to run back through the house or anything."

"Sounds good to me," I agree, doing my best to mentally prepare myself for whatever kind of reaction the little girl might have to my arrival.

"I'm gonna let her know you're here, and then I'll let you take over," he decides as he leads me back to the closed bathroom door. The light from inside peeks out from under the wood as faint shuffling can be heard from the other side. "I don't wanna overwhelm her with both of us in a small space like that, so I'll just let you handle it," he tells me, earning a nod.

Turning and knocking gently against the door, Bucky calls, "Hey Willa? You doin' okay in there?"

"A-a'most done," she calls back, the shakiness of her voice causing my heart to break. The whole situation in general is incredibly saddening. While I think Bucky is right in that it's an improvement for her to have sought out any help at all, it still makes me feel unbelievably guilty that she's so scared of me, apparently even more scared than she is of Buck. "O-okay," she says.

"Alright," Bucky says opening up the door slightly. From where I'm standing, I can't quite be seen yet by the child. "Sweetheart, while you were getting cleaned up, I had to call Steve and let him know what was going on," he tells her slowly. Though I can't see her, I can just picture her beginning to dissolve into a mess of anxiety. Soft whimpers can be heard from inside the room, making my heart tighten in my chest. "Shhh bunny. it's okay. He's not angry, not at all. He's just happy you're here and safe," he murmurs soothingly, stepping aside and motioning for me to join him.

Taking a deep breath, I shift over into the doorway; the sight before me breaks my heart. Willa stands trembling on the bath mat in one of Bucky's old t-shirts, her eyes overflowing with tears as a look of pure terror and betrayal makes its way onto her face. She flinches back at the sight of me, bumping up against the wall behind her and letting out a frightened sound as she realizes she's trapped. "I'll let you two have some time alone," Bucky sighs as he steps away, heading back into one of the rooms at the back of the apartment and closing the door.

"Willa-bug," I coo, keeping my voice as soft and low as possible. The poor child's knees begin to wobble underneath her as she stares at me, her bottom lip trembling in fear. Stepping a bit inside the bathroom, I bend my knees in hopes of coming off as unintimidating as I can, though my efforts seem to do little in helping the girl relax. "Hey sweetheart- it's okay, Willa. You're not in trouble. I'm not here to hurt you," I tell her softly.

The little girl's chest rises and falls erratically as tears continue pouring down her cheeks, a soft whimper rising in her throat before she opens her mouth, barely able to make any sound at all. "P-... p-p-..." she tries, her eyes widening in fear as she struggles to speak. "P-please," she finally manages, adding, "'m sorry, 'm so s-sorry. Didn't m-mean to. D-don't beat me, please don't beat me."

"Willa, Willa, shhh," I soothe, inching myself a tiny bit closer to her as she shakes feverishly against the wall. "Shhh, sweetheart- I'm not gonna beat you, doll. No beating," I tell her reassuringly as I bend down onto my knees before her, causing her to jump again. "I know you didn't mean to, sweetie. I know. It's okay, doll. You're not in trouble. Bucky said you had a nightmare?"

She nods, swallowing down her sobs as I soften my expression for her, murmuring, "Oh honey, that's alright. You couldn't help it that you had a scary dream." The look in her eyes tells me that she's skeptical of my words, but I continue, "It's okay, accidents happen. You're still little, sweetie. No one's mad at you. And you did a good job, you asked someone for help. That was really brave of you, darlin'. I'm so proud of you."

Willa's eyes widen at my words, and she asks, "P-p'oud of me?"

Despite her confusion, I just nod, explaining, "Yeah baby, you were really scared, but you came to Bucky for help anyway. You didn't do it all by yourself. That was good, Willa. You did such a good job." The child blinks, still appearing perplexed at my words. "Next time, it would be good if you could come to me," I add. "I know you were scared that you were going to be beaten, and that you would rather be hurt by Bucky than me. But no one's gonna beat you here, Willa. Never. I'll never hurt you or punish you, no matter what you do."

Willa's eyes gaze warily into mine and I open up my arms for her, earning a soft flinch. "Here sweetheart, you want a hug?" I offer, wanting nothing more than to wrap her up safely in my embrace. A pitiful look of longing forms on her face as she takes in my position, letting out a quiet whine of want. "It's okay doll, Daddy won't hurt you. Just wanna hold you."

And to my surprise, despite all the fear lingering in her big green eyes, Willa slowly steps forward, her face tucking itself away into my chest as I wrap her up softly and lift her off the floor. Carefully, I rise to a standing position, holding her safely against me as her tears begin to soak through my sweatshirt. "Hey- shhh," I soothe, rubbing her back tenderly as I sway her gently from side to side. "You're okay, Willa-bug. I've got you, it's okay."

"N-no beating, please no beating," she begs quietly.

"No beating," I repeat back to her, "no beating, baby. Just soft. Just safe." For several minutes, the little girl continues to cry silently into the damp fabric of my sweatshirt as I keep rocking her, offering quiet shushes every now and then in hopes of soothing her fears. Eventually, her breaths start to even out, and it occurs to me that she must be exhausted after all the night's events.

"You tired, sweetheart?" I ask, stroking down her hair gently as she shifts weakly against me, her head completely limp on my chest. She nods silently and I stroke her hair again, telling her, "That's okay, honey. It's pretty late, and you've had quite the night. I'm gonna thank Buck again and let him know we'll come get the sheets in the morning, but you can close your eyes if you want to, okay? I'll hold onto you," I soothe.

"H-have to sleep in th-the cold?" she whimpers, catching me slightly off guard.

"In the cold? What do you mean, baby?" I ask as I head out of the bathroom, shutting off the light behind me.

"N-no sheets, n-no blankies," she pouts.

"Oh," I say with a slight chuckle, now understanding. "No baby, of course not. You can sleep with me in my bed. How does that sound?"

"Daddy's bed," she hums lovingly, her thumb having made its way up into her little mouth. "Big. Lots'a blankies"

"That's right," I agree, "big bed, soo many blankies, baby. Plenty of room for both of us. And that way, if you have another scary dream, Daddy'll be right there to make it all better," I add.

"All better," she mumbles sleepily into her thumb, her eyelids fluttering as they fall shut.

"All better, sweetheart," I coo, rubbing her back lovingly as she falls asleep right in my arms.

← last chapter | series masterlist | next chapter →

[finestcigar]

My personal favorite lines from every DRDT character + explanations

Most of these are my favorites because they carry deeper implications about the characters or are thematically interesting. A few of them are just here because they're funny.

Fair warning that this is at least half just an excuse to talk about my subjective character interpretations and various cool shit I've noticed.

Spoilers up to CH2-11. Content warnings for DRDT-typical stuff.

J:

It's a kind of funny part of J's character how genuinely vindictive she gets over her secret despite it seemingly being minor and almost completely meaningless. To be fair, I guess spending four straight days hanging out with Arturo does that to a person.

Xander:

This is very interesting to me because a lot of the cast feel trapped by "fate" or unfortunate circumstances they're unable to escape (well, besides the killing game...). Teruko is the obvious example, but so are David, Arei (at first), Rose, Ace... It's common enough among the characters that I'd argue it as a central theme of the series, and I'm excited to see how it gets explored. This line being coupled with Xander immediately trying to kill Teruko despite the fact he doesn't want to seems like a contradiction, so I'm curious about that, too.

Veronika:

A big part of her character is just parodying Danganronpa fans (think Shirogane but less insulting) and I think this sums it up well. David was my least favorite character pre-CH2 and I break out in hives whenever I hear people saying he was better before, so I unfortunately can't deny how accurate this is :p A healthy appreciation for morally bankrupt characters is a keystone of maximum Danganronpa enjoyment!

Nico:

Everyone knows this one, but still. I like how Nico's shyness feels more like a character choice to make them seem unstable rather than non-threatening. This is accurate to reality since it's mostly shy people who send death threats on Tumblr dot com. (just kidding)

Eden:

Sums up her entire speech to Teruko in 2-3. What she says here cements her as the only person to stand in clear-cut opposition to the cynical worldviews of people like Teruko and David, which is important, since they're clearly supposed to be in the wrong but would otherwise lack a clear source of pushback. Disturbingly convincing theories about her being the CH2 killer aside, I think she's the only character more likely than David to die in CH5, since she seems to be taking on a role similar to Nanami and Momota in the mainline games.

Charles:

I'm getting a degree in computer science. Gonna start randomly dropping this one into conversations with people. (not really)

Rose:

This along with the rest of her backstory is symbolic for how corporations take the autonomy from artists and suck the soul out of their work. (Can you even call it symbolic if it's practically word for word?) All I can say about it is that it's a creative's horror story and this is exactly how I would feel if I were in her shoes.

Ace:

There's very obviously a lot more going on with Ace than what meets the eye. This line is a particularly clear example and I'm curious exactly what he's referring to when he says "this".

Whit:

This guy has problems.

Teruko:

Teruko being a doomer who thinks everyone besides her is fated to die. Should be obvious by this point, but this is actually why she's refusing to get close to people more than physical self-preservation: she doesn't want to deal with the grief of watching everyone else in the cast die one by one. Also ties in nicely with the next one:

David:

Similarly to Teruko, on the inside he's in complete fatalist despair thinking everyone (including himself) is gonna die. This is very telling of why he gives up on surviving and tries to get everyone to vote for him in 2-11.

Hu:

The motive secret she got is "You only took on your talent to distract from your incessant need to harm yourself for fun." This is a pretty morbid secret, but she doesn't think it's odd because the secret doesn't apply to her; she only thinks it's odd because it doesn't have her name on it. Interesting tie-in to her actual secret being the "hopeless child" one.

Min:

As someone who is an exceptional student but mid in every other area of life, I feel this hard. Min's entire bonus story speaks to me.

Levi:

Pretty funny, I laughed. Levi hasn't had his development yet so he's really leaving me with a shortage of things to say about him.

Arturo:

Again, can't explain why, I just think this is a very funny thing to say for some reason.

Arei:

I love the way this kind of cynicism is portrayed in DRDT. If Teruko and David are super negative and pessimistic about other people, Arei is a visceral demonstration of just how miserable and wet-cat-pathetic it is to hold views like those. As Eden says, "Not caring about others is the worst way to live." Although the aforementioned two were the only witnesses to this scene for a reason, I think the point was lost on both of them. Very sad!

Honorable mentions:

Self explanatory. Teruko really wants to be loved; she just believes any meaningful relationships she makes are figuratively and literally doomed.

Also self explanatory. Another indication that there's a lot more going on with Ace than meets the eye.

I always forget he said this so I get jumpscared by it every time I rewatch the prologue. Like whoa man, you're in America, you can't say that word here.

Anyway, thanks for reading this far. Feel free to ask me to elaborate on any of this if you want to, though be aware I might write an entire essay if prompted. See you next time! 🚬

[kimaratomoya]

I know I don't follow you but like- Maybe an Analysis on Oscar? Idk he's just one of my favorite characters =]

Out of Stock deep dive for @namedoggo (still finding it super awesome that a fellow Faz Frights fanfiction writer who I love is asking me for analysis!!!) because they asked for Isaac and Raj too at a later date!!

THIS WAS DONE WITH THE ACTUAL BOOK!!! NOT THE GRAPHIC NOVEL!!! I AM USING THE ORIGINAL INFORMATION!!!

Also I'm so sorry for the delay my motivation suddenly spiked so here ya go!!!

Oscar Avila:

Our main protagonist of the story!

Basic info:

- Pretty broke family

- Lost his dad at a young age to an infection

- Helps his mom at the Royal Oaks Nursing Home

- Likes Freddy's

- Has the nickname "Little Man"

- Loves his mom

- Wrong thing right reason

- Decent sense of fairness/justice

- Really good friends - Honestly like they are super cool and he does recognise it a few times

He seems like a good enough kid, with some wonky morals, but a good heart. He genuinely does love his friends, even if it's hard to see. He loves his mom too, and tried to be there for her, but he also needs a childhood. He's trying his best and the book seems to be his breaking point. Oscar is one of those characters you feel bad for, and can sympathize with, but still kinda looks at and be like "bro??? What the fuck???"

A bit more in depth:

- Feels like his childhood was stolen

- Often says he has "almost" of stuff he wants/strived for

- Has a decent relationship with Mr. Devereaux

He's just a little guy with a lot of issues. He often overlooks that his friends are really good and they aren't an "almost". He says almost for a lot of things, and lists about the baseball and getting a phone, etc. He's still a good kid, just a bit misguided, especially with his father's death and how he feels like he lost his childhood to help his mom and be the "man of he house". Mr. Devereaux seems like the "wise sage" (looney) of the story, but he's trying his best and Oscar doesn't appreciate him, but I feel like a lot of people wouldn't, but he still seems to like being around him for a bit. He just wants something for himself because he seems to believe that everything is just out of his reach.

Raj:

- Good guy

- Weird mom

- Honestly kinda chill

- Blunt and direct (Very Cool)

- Seems like the reasonable one

Honestly he doesn't get too much development, but it's clear he's the a chill guy. Seems like the smart/reasonable one of the group. Does have a very weird mom though and I do want to mention that because wtf is she on?? Her punishment for the sister is insane.

Isaac:

- Has a brother

- Tbh seems like a good guy

- Again there's not a lot on him

- A tad bit dumb compared to the others

- Easier to get a bit spooked

Ok so I don't like Isaac as much as Raj, more because he seems a bit dense, but he's still a good friend. He risks it for his buddy and, while not quite registering when Oscar gets electrocuted, seems like he does love his friends.

Overall:

They are great friends and it's good to see such a good bond in the FNaF books. They are honestly great people, of not a bit young and misguided, but they tried their darndest. They also are one of the few books with all main characters surviving so congrats.

I do however have to point out that they are sophomores, which is around 15-16, and I have noticed a LOT of ship content for a pair, or all three of them. I understand that they are a few of the most known characters, mostly from people not reading the full series, but please refrain from shipping minors, at least when interacting with this post, as they are not a canon ship.

I try to keep all my AU stuff out of the way so this is all based on actual plot points from the book.

[EDITTED BECAUSE I COULDN'T FIND THE AGE AND NOW HAVE IT, THANKS NAMEDOGGO!!]

[dangermousie]

would you happen to have thoughts about the acting/casting and/or depth of characterization in rise of ning? i'm watching it and wanna be more into it but fsr most of the cast (besides wanyi and the stepmom) are not very...charismatic? to me 😧 would love a convincing mousie blog on the topic if you have one up your sleeve!

I am a terrible person for this kind of question because (a) I tend to watch most shows for the mains and supportings are less important to me in general and (b) I am not really a person who wants to convince others to like what I like because all my liking means is I enjoy it; others may or may not - I am no arbiter.

This said, while the OTP are the shining stars of the show for me, I do find the rest of the characters interesting (even if a lot of them are not likable - I dare anyone to find Dad likable.) I think it's because they all feel like real people to me - in their good and their petty. Even minor characters like First Aunt - I knooow women like this. Or the Dad - too many men are like that. Or take oldest daughter of First Aunt - so many other narratives would make her evil or besotted stupidly to the end but she is not - she ends up doing the sane thing and moving on from her crush and repaying FL's favor; but they don't become BFFs, they basically a nicely tolerant, which is a realistic thing in families.

And it allows characters both greyness and consistency. Take Lady Qiao. Awful person but loving mother and you really understand how Dad and societal structures pushed her into what she is. Or, even better, grandma - she is very much a grande dame of society, I am sure she was a good wife, but it's clear she is part of all the generational trauma and dad got his tendency to favoritism from her. And I love that she's consistently so - no magic change of heart vis-a-vis ML. It's realistic.

As to non-Luos, the only ones we really see are Ci Sha's sinister sexy marquis and his nephew. I am interested in the former not just for the hotness (tho mmmm) but because I want to know what his deal is, and nephew is interesting enough for a minor character.

(I am leaving actors out of this write up because I think they all do fine jobs, but mainly because unless acting is truly bad, I care about the characters only.)

This said - this is (a) very much a costume take on slice of life or, perhaps better, a cdrama take on something like a Gaskell novel - I love that small but wonderful subgenre but depending on one's taste, it just might not be one's bag (no matter how well a proper harem drama is made, for example, I just don't like them) and (b) this is all my very subjective take - I am a big fan of "clicking." I believe things either click for us or don't, somewhere in the lizard brain; we can then write a long explanation as to why but it really is an attempt to explain after the fact. And this just might be a situation where those characters/narratives just don't click for you. I mean, plenty of people enjoyed Are You the One this year and I felt like it poisoned my puppy - not even 100 essays could ever make me like it because it's so subjective. I could very well go "I get why X likes it" but it would, alas, not make me like it any more than I do now. I am one of probably three people who dislike the main premise of Nirvana in Fire (could write essays on it!) and the fact that everyone else loves it has not changed my mind.

I can perhaps explain (badly) why I think the click happened for me here, but I have no eloquence to make that click happen for anyone else (if I did, mwhahahahahaha I would take over the world and adapt every good danmei out there :P)

[artsinus]

Recent arts

I just drew some quick little traditional drawings of Bambinata from PGR and some woman I made up that i thought i drew decently.

Ignore the weird perspective I’m still learnin 😩

Aside from that however, there was a drawing I was workin on that I doubt will be working on for a while. This drawing was supposed to be my big grand entrance back to digital, but I keep messing up so i’m just going to post it as a WIP and work on it later. It’s a drawing of Onikata Kayoko from Blue Archive, another gacha game i’ve been playing.

You can stop readin here cuz i’m gonna detail my journey of Blue Archive.

I never usually play games like Blue Archive because I despise games that are boring to play (usually idle games). I avoided Blue Archive not only because it didn’t look fun to play, but the community is extremely sussy which is creepy considering almost everyone in the game are underage minors. Personally, it ain’t real so idc but It’s still pretty icky to me. Recently however, I found the animator named BlueSeichi, who animated cute stuff about Blue Archive. Here is where I learned about the OST of BA, which is stupidly good for no reason. Due to this, I downloaded the game, and I’m having fun with it as my casual game while PGR is my main game. My top 3 favorite characters rn are Kayoko, Wakamo, and Toki.

The characters of BA carry the game, everybody having unique personalities. P.S, Kayoko and Wakamo are the only confirmed adults so what a coincidence 🤔. I also realized that the gameplay ain’t as braindead as I though, with it requiring skill timing and team building to actually clear harder content as apposed to pure brute force with leveling up. If I had to say what the hardest gacha games I played were, it’d be Arknights, Punishing: Gray Raven and then Blue Archive. The gameplay just has so much charm and personality to it.

Do yer want to know why I love Kayoko and Wakamo so much? Kayokos such a sweet heart, even with how she looks. In her description, she’s literally the only sane one in Problem Solvers 68 and she literally keeps it from crashing breh😩. She’s also a cat and music lover so based. Everybody in Problem Solvers is such a goofball, but Kayoko just follows along with their shenanigans just because she doesn’t want to break people’s expectations that she isn’t a delinquet. She knows how she looks may be detering, but she doesn’t care enough to change it. She also has some mystery to her, as it was revealed she knows Ako, from the Disciplinary Committe, one of the big bois that protect Gehenna. So, people say she used to work in the club, but it doesn’t make sense why she’d leave to go to join a rowdy troublemaking group full of nutjobs. Overall she’s a mystery overall, being disguised as a delinquent even tho she’s actually competent.

Wakamo, is crazy. In a good way. She’s basically a yandere, but one you can fix. Literally. Basically she’s one of the seven prisoners who broke out after the disappearance of the general student council president. She’s pretty violent and destroys every place she goes. When she met Sensei however, she developed love at first sight, and she kinda just stalks him. However, she actually listens to what Sensei says if he reprimands her, since she started holding back her violence specifically for Sensei. Like seriously, if Sensei tried, he could actually fix Wakamo, which is why I like her so much because she isn’t just your typical yandere.

And toki is just cool. I think i’ll like her more if I read her relationship stories, but the fact she can transform into a cool mecha suit is super badass ngl.

Blur archive has been quite the experience for me, and I an actively looking more osts for my playlist.

[indianchindian]

Curly Hair in Young Royals

This is another Young Royals word dump that I constantly think about, and it is about Felice, who is my favorite character in the series. Felice is mixed-race girl with a Black father and a White mother, hence part of the racial minority in Hilleska. In the first season, she was obsessed with the idea of a façade of perfection, as shown when she posted a selfie of her and her horse Rousseau and captioned about having a great time at the stables, and that she has a good relationship with Rousseau while the opposite was true, as it was Sara who truly bonded with Rousseau. She was always shown posting selfies on her Instagram account. However, one thing I found interesting is her hair.

In the first season, Felice straightened her hair because she wanted to "look" perfect and fit in with her white counterparts (who have, I'd say, racial blindness). She would wake up really early just to straighten her naturally curly hair, and it took hours. Throughout the first season her hair was straight, and according to me, it didn't suit her enough. With straight hair, she didn't look very authentic, and that is the point. Her hair is a symbol of authenticity, and initially she didn't accept that she can have flaws, whether physically or personality-wise.

However, in the first episode, when Felice was throwing up in the back door of a party was when Sara met her, drunk. She asked Sara if her hair looks curly, to which Sara, being Sara, said that it did. This caused Felice to be anxious about her looks, and explained Sara about the amount of time it takes to straighten her hair. But Sara was unfazed, and instead complemented the way she looks in curly hair. In the third season, Felice stated to Sara in the last episode that this remark meant a lot to her. That was because she internally never liked herself in curly hair and wanted to fit into the crowd of majority white students.

However, in the second season, there is a change; Felice stopped straightening her hair, and it continued in the third season as well. It was during and after she became friends with Sara and Wille, and it indicates that she has come to terms with her flaws. With the curly hair, we see a more confident and supportive Felice, especially when she's around Sara and Wille, her closest best friends.

This continued in the third season as well. And that's where racial discrimination in subtle but also no subtle ways starts. Felice was cold out for her open hair, unlike her white counterparts. She stated that there's a clear hierarchy here and in the initiations, only for one of her friends to say that she's pretty. It's evident that her friends live in a racially blind environment. They never understood what Felice had to go through as a black girl because of their shared economic and social privileges. They never understood that she woke up an hour early so as to straighten her hair. It was maybe because of her growing friendship with Sara that she started to embrace her natural hair more. Her no longer straightening her hair signifies that she's close to becoming her authentic self.

The fact that she stated that Sara saying that her hair looks pretty when curly is already evident when she stopped straightening her hair. This remark by Sara was the first step to embracing herself and her identity. This is the reason why she missed Sara even though she was very angry and hurt by her actions with August, because she was the first true friend she had, and still deep inside was grateful for the kind of impact she made. This didn't cost her self-respect though.

The impact of her curly hair is more with her conversation with her father about his experiences at Hilleska being the only black student there, and for him the hierarchy was even more evident. Curly hair is seen in mostly African people, and considering the history of racial discrimination in Europe, her hair was seen as undesirable, which is why the headmistress would tell her to tie her hair up when it was opened. And this is the reason why she straightened her hair. However, I'm glad she stopped straightening her hair because curly hair really suits her :)

[chromacryptid]

Alright im sure this has been rehashed a million times, but i wanna talk about monsterhigh so too bad 😤 i will talk to the void. If ur not interested , enjoy the art but my thoughts about the new lagoona below👇

-im glad that they’re leaning into athlesiure with her!! Obv the og design is iconic, but the best piece is inarguably the hoodie. So even tho i have issues with the colors, i think the new hoodie is actually cute n fitting :] The mesh and sandals are also nice.

-im glad that they’re leaning into athlesiure with her!! Obv the og design is iconic, but the best piece is inarguably the hoodie. So even tho i have issues with the colors, i think the new hoodie is actually cute n fitting :] The mesh and sandals are also nice.

-the fanny pack and asymmetrical earrings are my favorite of the accessories!!!!

-i…I really cant say anything good about those pants. What was the concept there

-the purse is just really uninspired imo,, especially if you compare it to the original

-ok ive stalled long enough. I have to talk about the colors…i guess the new concept is rainbow? But its also very pink? The execution just isnt doing it for me 😓 besides, her name is lagoona BLUE man!! Honestly i think the biggest problem is that there are so many pinks. Different shades, cool tone, warm tone, all over. This might be fine, except for all the rainbow on top of that. Theres just no clear color story:

Example a) i dont hate the hair that much on its own. But in combination with everything else? It’s giving unicorn barf instead of unicorn magic :[. It could be pretty pastels but instead it feels drowned out/muted

Example b) Im glad they kept her fins but the peach skin tone is just strange…its like, almost a human color, but also colorful enough to clash with the other colors?

-this is kinda minor but i liked the body shape changes of some of the other g3 dolls and wished lagoona got something. Wouldn’t it fit great with her athletic fashion vibes and personality if she had some defined muscles? Maybe they were going for more of a lean yoga girl vibe.

Overall, Lagoona is my least favorite doll of g3 rn. I feel like they missed the mark on blending her character with modern fashion and the result was a weak, busy design. Although, I am curious as to why so much of her design was changed compared to the other g3 dolls, which pretty much keep the hair and skin of their originals. Hopefully she’ll look better in future outfits, and maybe even win people over on the peach skin?

[hallucinateonpaperspines]

With pack bonding, will there be misunderstandings where one of the kids mention it and the bots 100% think the kids have bonded with them (cybertronian style) and they themselves just can’t feel it or smt

Like with cybertronians, bonds are a very real, physical thing, and the absolute MESS that misunderstanding could cause is insane

(No pressure or anything btw!!! Is saw your post and couldn’t stop thinking about the possibilities LMAO)

... who said it would involve the bots (¬‿¬)

No, but, lowkey, it is going to involve one of my favorite original characters who has yet to be introduced. I think he's adorable.

That said, it would be a hilarious to have that conversation with the bots. Ratchet would see that as an opportunity and a sign to fully embrace his dad mode.

Cue the team having deep introspective moments searching for links to their charges but not feeling anything. Cue the angst as they wonder what they're doing wrong, if they're not good enough, what they're missing.

They keep holding their charges close to their spark, trying to reach out with their fields, trying to maintain proximity like a creator would for a new spark, but none of it is working.

Ratchet, the bearer of human medical knowledge and a very suspicious charge, recommends looking into more human-oriented methods. Touch via cuddling, mimicking body movements, smiling, are all prescribed with the promise of finally earning those bonds.

It doesn't work.

The kids seem happy. They look content. But there is no bond, no metaphysical link that opens and clicks into place.

The kids are also getting suspicious. Seeing Bulkhead jump on his tip toes for no reason does that.

Then they think "pack-bonding," perhaps it must be done as a group or unit. That they're failing because it's a bond to the unit and not an individual. That they've sucked these kids into a version of a hive mind without even realizing it.

Optimus takes a few days, guilt eating his spark. Is that why the kids go out onto the battlefield? Why they can be so restless and reckless? Is it a protective measure? An instinct to protect the group above themselves? To be living shields, to serve in whatever way capable, because of an ingrained program demanding that loyalty?

The bots make sure to tell the kids they're doing great. Always complimenting, and asking them to do minor things. Chores they claim are valuable, can only be done by them. Because if the bonds need an outlet, let it be one that won't take them away.

It isn't until Ashlyn says something about needing a "Stabby" to clean up the base and sic on the cons that things start to get cleared up.

Amid her panic about explaining an internet joke that won't exist for almost half a decade, Ashlyn somehow manages to convey the concept of anthropomorphizing objects. Which then turns into a talk about empathy, and then emotional bonding.

"Wait- so humans don't form spark bonds?"

Glancing at the 4th was, Ashlyn shrugs "Only in fiction"

Bonds or not, every human feels the bot's relief.