#wont you think youre incapable? at least for a bit?

[arsenicflame]

Izzy Hands can have a little "thinking hes incapable of feeling love" as a treat (for me. the treat is for me)

[the-s1lly-corner]

Dude, imagine something like: TADC x Mime! Reader. Reader usually stays quiet most of the time, but sometimes they suddenly talk startling everyone around them. At the same time, they are like, very expressive, using exaggerated gestures and facial expressions, and usually communicates solely through their miming skills. And if you wanna go extra crazy THEY COULD ALSO HAVE SOMETHING LIKE MR. MIME FROM POKEMON, where they like, do a mimic of a wall, and then a invisible wall appears out of nowhere or something like that

I hope you understood what i meant, sorry for any mistakes, English is not my first language 💖💖

TADC cast x mime!reader !

eueueu i totally understand what youre saying and i love the idea sm!! i love it when mime characters have mime physics, or when clown characters have clown physics!! love it so so so much!! sorry if this is a little short, ive been writing personal stuff all day and the back aches are starting to creep back in already </3

CAINE:

his jaw drops the first time you speak, he genuinely thought you were totally incapable of speech thanks to your whole theme going on... i think he would love your little mime tricks with the invisible walls and barriers and... did you just no clip through the floor while pretending to walk down some stairs...? where did you go?? where? was there another no clip glitch issue thing going on? he thought he fixed that...!

POMNI:

ah, a jester and her mime.... not the weirdest pairing... though granted pomni doesnt commit to the bit of being a jester and doesnt do tricks or jokes.. while you do commit... i think she would grow frustrated if you put a barrier up and made her slow down... calm down.. chill.. sure you understand the whole "finding the exit" thing going on with her, but rushing things probably wont help.... to time out she goes... probably gives you a side eye if she sees you just randomly walking on some invisible platform to just. leave in the middle of an IHA

JAX:

tries to coax you into using your powers for evil... i have a feeling jax doesnt like people who arent talkers... like being incapable of speak is one thing, i think at most is that he would make decisions for you (ie wrap an arm around your shoulder and be like "oh well me and (reader) were just thinking about......." yk? like in a joking way) but i dont think he likes quiet people... tries to coax you into speaking more... imagine you never spoke before in front of anyone and you finally reveal that you can talk, to jax, and he tries to tell everyone but no one believes him. psychological torment 101

RAGATHA:

i like to think she plays along with your mime antics, pretending to also be putting up invisible props and such... though her actions and movements are noticeably more sloppy and not as... fluid...? afterall, ragatha hasnt spent time practicing to be anywhere near your level! is a little surprised when she finds out your stuff is at least somewhat tangible within the digital world... thinks your emoting is cute..

KINGER:

so you know how he gets startled by gangle simply standing next to him? its like that with you, but he jumps when you randomly start talking next to him.. ponders... invisible safe square/cube/whatever... though i think part of the comfort of a pillow fort is that hes out of sight... but i think he would enjoy it at least a little if you created something like that for him

ZOOBLE:

enjoys that you dont talk much, zooble doesnt like chatty people i dont think... though they are willing to listen to you on days where you do feel like striking up a conversation... you actually get a laugh out of them when you banish jax to time out (aka putting up 4 see through walls around him for whatever length of time to atone for whatever crime he committed that day)

"he took my arm off.. give him an hour.."

GANGLE:

art kid meets art kid, you guys are both a little silly... okay sure your stuff is more performative, and while gangle does have a comedy and tragedy mask her thing is more so in drawing and painting imo, i love me artistic gangle... loves doing your makeup, if its not just a permanent part of your digital face, and can be customized... not much to be said here... theres comfortable silence between the two of you when you hang out since you dont talk often and gangle doesnt know what to talk about and may or may not fear ruining the dynamic between the two of you

[cummin-n-cryin]

❦~ hello! ~❦

if you don’t mind, would you be accepting of writing about Idia Shroud and Floyd Leech(separately, or you may just choose one if you’d prefer not to do both! i’m not picky!) with a female s/o who’s in Pomefiore? she’s very clean and thinks highly of herself, but is also very kind and is a soft dom who’s slightly scared of sex…she wont admit it though until the last second! i’d just like to see how the shy shut-in and sinuster eel would react to someone like that!

❀- so sorry if that was too specific or too strange- you may do whatever you’d like for this! -❀

~Thank you for your request!

Pomefiore Softy

MINORS/BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

Idia Shroud + Floyd Leech x fem!reader (all separate)

Tw: afab reader, NSFW mentions, I think that's it?

Wordcount: 433 + 370

Side Note: Don't apologize! It's def not strange and honestly I prefer more specific requests! It's easier to write them. I apologize if this isn't good I was struggling a lot with writing but I hope this is at least okay!

~Idia Shroud~

Idia's not surprised that you're from Pomefiore. The way you hold your head up high and with how neat and tidy you are, easily give it away. However, he is surprised that someone from Pomefiore fell in love with him of all people.

Idia would typically distance himself from someone from Pomefiore. Believing them to be like Vil, extroverted and simply incapable of understanding a gamer like him.

Though for some reason you gained an interest in this introverted gamer. He considered you quite annoying at first, comparing you to Cater.

It was only when Ortho became friends with you that Idia started to care about you in any way. Hearing Ortho talk about how nice you were piqued Idia's interest.

Soon enough, that simple interest would grow as you and Idia hung out together more. Whether it be playing board games or simply texting each other online, Idia grew more fond of you.

And then, with a growing adoration for you and a few helpful nudges from Ortho, you two became a couple. While he was still terribly awkward, he was glad to have you around.

When it comes to getting intimate with you, Idia is as eager as he is terrified. He gets so overwhelmed by his own thoughts he believes that if he does try to get you in his bed, he'll end up doing something super embarrassing and then he'll be cursed to think about how badly he fumbled before he goes to sleep every night.

So, you'll more than likely be the one to make the first move.

When you tell him that you are a soft dom, he is nothing short of relieved. With you being the one in control, it saves him from the stress and anxiety of somehow fucking up and embarrassing himself. He really doesn't mind, especially if it's the first couple of times you two have sex.

Honestly, he really likes that you're soft. He loves the praise and how kind you are to him. He won't admit it, but he does have quite the big ego.

When you two finally go to have sex, Idia is a bit surprised when you suddenly tell him that you're a little afraid to continue.

He understands how you feel. It's definitely quite the nerve-wracking experience. But trying his best to comfort you, he'll reassure you that at any time you two can stop. After all, you always try to make sure he's comfortable and you never force him to do anything he doesn't want to, so it's only fair that he does the same for you.

~Floyd Leech~

Floyd doesn't really care much about where you're from but he really likes your confidence! You talk to him so casually and even when there's times when he makes subtle threats towards you, you just shrug and walk away.

He enjoys your reactions to his teasing. You're flustered expression is always super funny, but there are times where you get back at him and make him flustered too. It's nice to hang around someone who doesn't shy away from him.

Floyd is truly a fun and amazing person when he wants to be. He may not be everyone's first choice for a boyfriend but he's yours.

When you two decide to pursue a romantic relationship you'll more than likely have been friends with Floyd for awhile and by then you'll have figured out how to deal with his chaotic personality and his ever changing moods.

Whenever you both decide to become more intimate, he's very interested when you tell him you're a soft dom. Floyd doesn't care that much about giving up the dominant role to you. He may complain a little bit though.

The first time you two decide to have sex Floyd's excitability can get the better of him. He may end up going a bit too fast and that's when he finds out your a bit scared of sex.

Floyd can't help but laugh a bit. He's not trying to be mean, it's just funny to him. He tells you how cute you are, gettin' all shy, and that there's nothing to worry about. He won't bite~

Not yet anyway.

But, he'll try to comfort you. He'll tell you that your silly and there's nothing to be afraid of. You can do whatever you want with him, just don't make it boring, 'kay? So go on and show him what ya got!

Of course, you can decide that your just not ready for it and he'll be fine with it. Sure, he may be slightly disappointed but it's not fun if you're gonna be upset the whole time. Either way, he's just excited to be with you.

[tactiletelekonesis]

gonna just ramble my thoughts for a bit

i was talking about how ive been asked to be evaluated for bpd in the past and got told by the doctor that i “dont want that stigma” and shut down before i could decide for myself if its worth it, and the person i was telling this to said they think i dont have it and like.

im kind of mad.

because im still getting to know this person and the more i think on it the more i know i at least have things that mimic the symptoms

and being told “i can tell you dont have it” feels like its diminishing the fact that i worry i do

and dont get me wrong i know the symptoms can be caused by other things but i would still like to know

and like the reason im thinking this is just… dirk strider from homestuck. ive been seeing people say hes textbook DID and i GET IT, i do, but i also really see bpd in him more. and i also see myself in him, though i dont have DID

i see his splinters and lil hal specifically as like. i can see how hal would be an alter, but lets not focus on that. hal is the epitome of a version of dirks self that he gets aggravated with, probably even hates because it reminds him of who he used to be, and to some extent whi he currently is.

if you look at the symptoms of bpd on mayo clinic, i could argue for all of them in dirk - and myself

and like. ive fucked up so many relationships because a flip switches in my head and im convinced they hate me or dont care, and people dont see that BECAUSE I FUCKING HIDE IT

I HID MY AUTISM FROM MYSELF AND OTHERS FOR 19 YEARS. MY PSYCHOSIS FOR 27. whos to say i havent been hiding bpd from people?

i already have dependent personality disorder but if you have one personality disorder youre more likely to have more

the reason people dont believe my struggles is i mask automatically and suffer inside because i dont know how to talk about how im suffering or even explain whats a mask and whats not

i keep going back to the time i was told “youre incapable of being mean” and the visceral reaction of wrongness i felt because i shut myself down so fucking much because the idea of upsetting others is so goddamn terrifying yet until i was 19 i would purposely make lists in my head of actual ways to ruin my friendships of i wanted to. like i would make full lists. just cataloguing all their insecurities so i could weaponize them. i never did because when i admitted to doing this when i felt safe i was told that was a dick move. and theyre right but it still fucking hurt because i dont do it on purpose. i dont.

im currently losing two of my best friends because my brain wont let me fucking talk to them because im simultaneously afraid theyre mad, and mad at them myself, and im sabotaging myself by not talking to them at all

i literally swing from thinking im worthless to thinking im a literal celestial being. i dissociate all the god damn time. im so fucking angry every second of my life

i would go into more detail about other symptoms but im making myself sad.

i dont care about the stigma i want validation for these symptoms and acknowledgement that i am extremely mentally ill at times and i just

i know they meant well but being told im not bpd by a newer friend who im still opening up to is frustrating. youre not my doctor, youre not me. how would you know? my doctor doesnt even know all my experiences because i dont know how to talk about them

im not sure if its the 4am talking or the stress from the roommate situation but like im thinking about bpd again. i think its worth looking into

anyway i cant believe im turning into a dirk kinnie but im not complaining

[drawing-way-outside-the-lines]

➖ Mature content, 18+ ➖ check the trigger tags each time ➖

Chapter 45 - A softness settled in it.

Episode 4. Raven: As he laid curled up in his brothers arms about an hour later, sweaty, naked, his phone suddenly rang

Ronan: Do you want me to hand it to you?

Raven: Mmh.. he mumbled sleepy and snuggled his head against Ronan's naked chest No… it can wait till tomorrow. Whatever it is.

Ronan: …. it's Dalton.

Raven: His eyes got wide and he quickly sat up Do you think he heard me?!

Ronan: He chuckled amused and reached the phone towards Raven There's only one way to find out.

Raven: He hesitated a couple seconds then grabbed the phone and picked up Y-es?

Dalton: Hey his voice was soft and dimmed

Raven: Hey a tranquil smile spread on his lips

Dalton: You disappeared…

Raven: Yeah…. I'm sorry his voice instantly sounded like melted butter, a calmness surrounding his body, and he felt as if he was going to melt into the sheets

Dalton: Are you alright?

Raven: Mhh… I'm alright

Dalton: Good.

Raven: …… wondering if he should ask if Dalton heard his little slip

Dalton: ….. I better get back to bed, just wanted to be sure you got home safe.

Raven: He bit his bottom lip lightly, closing his eyes, leaning tighter against the phone as if he was trying to hear every molecule in Dalton's body.

Dalton: Raven?

Raven: Yes?

Dalton: Good night.

Raven: He nodded lightly Good night.

Ronan: He was sitting and observing Raven with an amused smile as Raven opened his eyes again and hung up the phone

Raven: He rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but chuckle I don't want to hear it!

Ronan: He chuckled lightly and laid back down I wont say a thing.

Raven: Of course you will! He laid his phone on his bedside table and laid back down next to his brother You're incapable of keeping your nose out of my business!

Ronan: He laughed warmly

Raven: Idiot he couldn't help but chuckle

Ronan: So, did he hear you?

Raven: I don't think so? At least he chose not to comment on it then.

Ronan: I see. And now you're wondering if that means he didn't hear it, or if it means he isn't into it and chose to ignore it.

Raven: You're annoying. But yes.

Ronan: He chuckled warmly

Raven: He shook his head lightly I'm glad you're amused by my misery.

Ronan: ….. a secretive smirk tucking at his lips is there anything I can do to help you get your mind of it?

Raven: He smirked back You can fuck me like you mean it!

Ronan: Loud warm laughter

Lina: She sighed soft all of a sudden

Ragnall: What's on yer mind?

Lina: I suppose it got to me more than I'd like to admit. I had really hoped to meet someone special today… instead they were mostly rude, or simply didn't like me at all.

Ragnall: He couldn't help but smile, now that he knew it had all been on purpose, but at the same time he couldn't help but feel bad that it had seemed to affect her

Lina: I never felt beautiful, but I have never-

Ragnall: Yeh never felt beautiful? he asked surprised how come?

Lina: She wrinkled her nose slightly I think I look mostly like a troll…. well… and I don't like freckles she sighed softly as she looked at her arms

Ragnall: He gestured at his own very freckled face Ouch he chuckled warmly

Lina: She frowned soft

Ragnall: I have far more than you have

Lina: I meant on myself, not others… beside, yours are pale brown and orangy pink tones… mine are… like… she sighed soft diarrhoea spots

Ragnall: He chuckled softly Chocolate sprinkles, if you ask me.

Lina: She smiled soft and felt herself blush again, feeling shy that such a handsome man would pay her such a nice compliment

Ragnall: He quietly sipped his tea

Across town

Dalton: He had tried to sleep for quite a while, but kept failing. So he finally decided to get out of bed and up

Malou: She laid sleeping next to him, wearing only one of his tshirts and panties. She looked soft and pure, and incredible beautiful

Dalton: He grabbed a pack of cigs and walked to sit on his chair, lighting one before quickly scribbling some stuff in his notebook he had thought of as he laid in bed. Possible ideas for lyrics. He sat down, took a drag of the cig, and observed Malou for a moment. How her hair framed her face. The soft breathing. She was deep asleep. His thoughts got interrupted as suddenly someone honked outside. A honk that sounded familiar. He hurried towards the window turned in the direction of the parking space outside, and couldn't help but chuckle as he saw Andy sit on top of his roof, holding a joint and a beer in his hands. He shook his head and signalled to Andy that he was coming down, then quickly grabbed a hoodie and some pants, stumbling out the door while still trying to get the clothes on, quickly peeking back into his room. Malou was still asleep. Good. He ran down the stairs and quickly got some shoes on, then hurried out the front door, and down the stairs and around the house

Andy: He grinned as he spotted Dalton I thought you'd still be awake!

Dalton: He shushed loudly and shook his head as he reached Andy Yeah but Malou is asleep, so can we take this somewhere else?

Andy: He chuckled hoarsely Sure, where you wanna take it? My bed? he grinned wide, then somehow seemed to completely change expression from cheeky to confused to embarrassed, and quickly slid down his front window, jumping off as he landed on his hood Sorry, I didn't mean to he frowned soft and walked around his car, looking sorta lost as if he had momentarily forgotten how to Andy

Dalton: He scratched his hair a bit Should I drive?

Andy: ….. you drive?! he looked surprised at Dalton

Dalton: Not really he grinned cheekily but doesn't mean I can't!

A couple hours later, they were both drunk at the pub

Andy: CHeerS MATe!!! he clinked his beer against Dalton's

Dalton: Cheeeers!!! he chuckled drunkenly and sipped his beer I ssshould be getting home soon though….

Andy: Noooo c'mon have another one!

Dalton: He laughed loudly One more, and thatsss it!

Andy: Fuck yeah!!!

Ragnall: It had been about an hour since Lina had curled up against him to get some heat, or so he assumed since she had gotten progressively more chilly although she kept pretending she wasn't. He found it easy to read her over all. She liked him, or at the very least his company. And as such didn't want to go to bed, the only room in the house with floor heat. As such the only room in the house with heat, since the fireplace wasn't working. So she had tried her best to pretend the cold house wasn't bothering her that much. Until she had finally snuggled up against his shoulder, mid-conversation. She had fallen asleep about 30 minutes ago, and Ragnall had sat there quietly, listening to her breathing. But as his shoulder was starting to sleep and his urge to do something was growing, he slowly wiggled himself lose, stood up and scooped her up in his arms

Lina: Mmhh she instantly snuggled her face against his warm chest, seeking his body heat in her sleep

Ragnall: He smiled warmly, and silently carried her to bed.

[yandere-trashcan]

Yandere Fezzik Alphabet:

A: Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Fezzik is a very physically affectionate person, he loves to hold his darling close and just cuddle for hours, if they have to walk for longer than half an hour you can bet Fezzik is going to swoop them up and carry them the rest of the way, he'll take any excuse to have his darling in his arms. His need to hold his darling can get a bit intense, the urge to hold his darling as close to him as possible has led to more then one near crushing hug. Fezzik tries to be as aware of his strength as possible, the last thing he wants to do is cause his darling harm, but he still forgets from time to time.

B: Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Fezzik tries to fight fair most of the time but the second his darling is involved all his morals go out the window. He is more than willing to kill to keep his darling safe and with him.

C: Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Fezzik is incapable of being cruel to his darling, at least not on purpose. Once they are in his care he does everything he can think of to make them more comfortable, he learns how to cook their favorite meals, brings them whatever they want from their old home, he even gives them his bed and takes the floor, at least until their darling is comfortable enough to share the bed with him, but he wont push it.

D: Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

The abduction itself would be a last resort, Fezzik would try almost anything else to get his darling to fall for him before he gives in and takes them. Other than that the only thing Fezzik could ever bring himself to force his darling to do would be to take care of them, making them eat, drink, bathe, if they refused to do it themselves.

E: Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Fezzik is very open with his emotions, and even if he tried to hide them he wouldn't do a very good job of it. Fezzik would bare his heart to his darling almost immediately and their reaction would effect him immensely. The more open his darling seems to like him the more open Fezzik will show his love for them.

F: Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Fezzik would be sad his darling would feel the need to fight him when all he wants to do is take care of them he would let them try to fight until they tire themselves out and then take them back to his room and keep an eye on them until they fall asleep. If they continue to try to fight eventually Fezzik will have to tie them to the bed until they start to accept theor new home.

G: Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

This is Not a game to Fezzik, he loves his darling so much and seeing them try to leave him so desperately only makes him feel worse for taking them in the first place. That doesnt mean he wont take steps to stop his darling from being able to escape, though.

H: Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Fezzik isnt one for punishing his darling, he's too scared of hurting them, or making them hate him. However if his Darling is refusing to take care of themselves Fezzik will force his care on them, making them eat, drink, bathe. He doesnt mean it to be a punishment but he knows being striped and scrubed down by your literal giant of a catpure can sure seem like one.

I: Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Fezzik wants to live a peaceful life with his Darling. He wants to get married and settle down on a piece of farmland by the sea, get some sheep and goats and chickens, have his friends come to visit and see any children he and his darling have/adopt (if his darling is okay with that, he would never force them). He wants a simple life with the person he loves most.

J: Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Fezzik likes to be around his datling as much as possible, so most people will take one look at his darling, see him, and think better of it. But on the rare occasion he isnt around or someone is stupid enough to try something while he is there, they dont get far. Fezzik tries not to be violent infront of his darling and all he usually has to do is loom over whoever was hitting on his darling and they'll scurry away like the rat he sees them as. If they really wont leave his Darling alone Fezzik will usually just pick Darling up and take them home before his jealousy gets the better of him.

K: Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Fezzik is his usual sweet self around his darling, he doesnt feel the need to act any different around his darling other than being a little extra gentle and affectionate because he wants them to see him for who he is and love him for who he is like he loves them.

L: Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Fezzik is aware of how intimidating he can be and would start courting his darling very slowly to earn their trust before properly approaching them. He would start by leaving them small gifts in places he knows they'll find them, and writing them notes. He'll eventually move on to doing them small favors once he's seeing them in person. He'll try to build up a friendship first and get them to fall for him that way.

M: Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

No, even with his yandere tendencies Fezzik is still the gentle giant he normally is, so long as his darling isnt in danger he acts just the same.

N: Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Fezzik really doesmt feel the need to punish his darling for anything. There are things he does that his darling might see as a punishment, the firced care when they wont take care of themselves or tying them to the bed when they try to eacape one too many times, but in Fezziks mind hes just helping his Darling and keeping them from getting hurt.

O: Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

The only thing Fezzik would restrict his darling from doing right from the beginning is leave the property they now live on. Other than that its up to darling since Fezzik will only take away rights that his Darling uses to get into trouble or hurt themselves.

P: Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Fezzik is extremely patient with his Darling and is willing to let them get away with almost anything as long as they dont get hurt .

Q: Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

Fezzik would be absolutely crushed if his darling were to die, he wouldnt know what to do with himself and if his friends werent there to comfort him he might just decide to join his darling. If they manage to escape or leave him Fezzik would be a little better off. He would still be crushed that his darling managed to get away, that they wanted to get away at all, but he would get through it in order to go after them again.

R: Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Fezzik would feel extremely guilty about abducting hos darling and taking them away from their old life, but he would still believe it was for the best and he gave his datling plenty of time to make the change on their own. He wouldnt feel guilty enough to let his darling go, the only way that could happen is if he really believed his darling would never grow to love him or be happy with him even after years of having them with him.

S: Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Fezziks obsession would start out as a normal crush and slowly morph into yandere behavior over time, it would likely happen because he is lonely or jealous of what Westley and Buttercup have or he just feels too nervous to approach his darling and starts stalking them instead and becomes addicted to seeing his Darling all the time.

T: Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Fezzik Hates seeing his darling in any kind of pain, physical or emotional, and knowing that he is the cause of it would make him feel extremely guilty and sad. His darling isolating themselves because they'd rather be completely alone than with him would send him into his own kind of depression.

U: Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Fezzik is a lot more cool headed than the average yandere and while he is still a little delusional and doesnt see anything wrong with hos feelings he does know that the way he feels isnt exactly normal.

V: Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

Fezzik just wants to see his darling happy and for them to be affectionate towards him, he wont really notice or care if the change in behavior is strange or sudden. He would absolutely fall for it if his darling pretended to love him in order to escape.

W: Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Not intentionally. Fezzik is aware that he is a lot stronger than most people and because of that he tries to be as gentle with his darling as possible but if they've really pushed him too far he can firget that in thenheat of the moment. He will always feel awful after he realizes hes hurt his darling and try to make up for it though.

X: Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Fezzik thinks hsi darling is one of, if not the, most amazing people to ever walk the earth. His devotion isnt unlike a subject to their ruler. He sees his darling as a being above himself, someone worthy of worship and devotion beyond what any normal person would see their lover as, and Fezzik is willing to do just about anything to win their affection.

Y: Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Fezzik is willing to wait well over a year for his darling to come around to him before he finally cant take it anymore and kidnapps them, and even after kidnapping his Darling he tries to be as patient as possible and wait for them to come around.

Z: Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Breaking his darling is something Fezzik actively tries not to do. He will let his darling go before he attempts to break them in any way, and if he ever did it by accident he would be an absolute mess.

[lanshappycorner]

i was rlly hoping that id have coherent things to say over your akuta and akushio threads on twt but i fucken dont have anything except just incoherent screaming and keysmashes /pos running through my head everytime i reread them so im just settling on just to say, one? HANDSHAKING YOU AT MACH SPEEDS I ALSO WANT TO AKUTA BREAKDOWN IN FRONT OF DAY2 BC CMON!!!! (side b tls arent complete but ive been spoiled a bit) but god the amt of breaking points (which i all favorited on eitori as i read along the tls bc why not) i was SO sure wouldve shown akuta outwardly disheartened and then DIDNT happen was just, felt like a damn chekovs breakdown in this instance, just WAITING for the shoe to drop, (which it does seem to, eventually, and im waiting to get absolutely WRECKED once tls for that moment drop) i absolutely love the way you break down akutas incapability of showing vulnerability as a whole bc of this just. notion that if he "breaks character" he'll just. lose the ppl that he has in his life? im bad at verbalizing my thoughts but everything on ur thread just had me pointing like YES, YES EXACTLY!!! i think. like looking back a lot of ppl in the game comment "wow nothing rlly brings akuta down!!! im glad!!" and it just makes me want to hit a wall, i am so so SO sad that hes able to hide this so well??? or at least, just, in a way that ppl around him just go "oh he'll bounce back, this is good ol' akuta, i dont need to worry too much"???? and the specific mention of his um vocal tics? vocal quirks? makes me want to revisit said chapters where his voice does that bc its such an interesting thing that i did notice but cld again never articulate, and how he always leaves- no, rather he tries to get away from people once he gets dejected and loses that rasp in voice and, adopting This into the belief system, him being on the verge of crying (which is such a thought that breaks my damn heart so bad) i remember reading the tl for akutas novel and just feeling my heart absolutely Crumble at the way his thoughts were running once the whole jig was up with sayochan "as long as no one gets hurt, its whatever" and like WHAT ABOUT YOU!!! YOU GOT HURT FROM THIS!!! (and im so so so glad that day2 and the whole of HAMAhouse was angry on his behalf n went to cheer him up and just, good god kid you have ppl who love you they wont leave if you show some vulnerability i promise, fuck) this isnt short anymore i apologize, ,, (1/?)

HELLO ANON THANK U FOR THE ASK THIS MADE ME VERY HAPPY !!!!!!!🫶🫶🫶 I've been stewing over what to say so it took me a while to reply but . Yeah

ANYWAY SO if you have not yet read side B you are in for a ride ....some of the things he says about himself will have u screaming crying throwing up fr (spoilers i guess but one thing he straight up says is that he's (or rather, his existence is) a nuisance . so thats great <3) he made me audibly gasp in horror.......it probably hits different too because throughout the story he has kept his cool and insists that things don't bother him so when the dam breaks...ohhh...💀💀

(Also speaking of his voice I went back and replayed that chapter where he's in the theater dressed as a crab and you can kinda see that in his voice again😭 and also his usual coping mechanism happens when the mc suggests they wait a while longer for more ppl to show up and he just jokes that his butt hurts from sitting, but his laugh was really weak like he was completely trying to play it off😭 He also somewhat drops the usual raspiness in his voice when he starts to ramble right before the movie but it's not because he's sad but because he's genuinely excited to talk which makes me so 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺)

BUT SAME THOUGH . HIS NOVEL MADE ME FROWN SO HARD.....he downplays a lot of his own emotions in favor of other people's feelings and he doesn't express his own anger....I'm so glad the ppl in HAMA House are there to support him😭 I hope one day he learns he can be more vulnerable with them because they all care for him and would never abandon him😭😭)

as for the Akushio thread!! I have to agree that their appearances do betray how you'd expect them to be, as with a lot of day2 tbh !! Like a lot of their 1st impressions don't line up with how they actually are/think (i would talk abt it but if I did we'd be here all day so that's for another time💀)

I can't say for sure but I feel like u might be onto smth abt Akuta twisting a lot of stuff ppl say into compliments. Like as long as it's not straight up an insult, he can appreciate that ppl r taking time to talk to him I think

(I agree I hope he gets to talk to taichi although that might be because I'm biased as a taichi akuta oshi)

OOO OKAY so I think that if Ushio ever confessed I think. I think it would break Akuta's brain for a second😭 probably because it's Ushio of all people like rly??? USHIO?? but also he might find himself doubting it for a moment he might think that it was a joke but also he knows Ushio wouldn't joke about that ....so he might have to take some time to himself to think abt this, and he might need Ushio to like. Talk to him in depth abt how he feels abt him😭 (speaking of which I've kinda had an idea similar to an akushio confession but not rly ?? bouncing around in my head for a while now so mayhaps I will draw that sometime...)

NO YEAH IM OBSESSED....Akuta going to Ushio for affection is so cute (although I'm pretty sure he goes in expecting that Ushio would not agree💀) ....I hope one day Akuta goes to Ushio for affection again and Ushio actually does it and this freaks Akuta out so bad he gets really red and nosebleeds or smth idk

Anyway to answer the last part of ur ask, don't worry this isn't imposing or anything I love talking abt my blorbos<3 there's very few ppl who like this ship and stuff anyway so I rly appreciate it, ty for the nice ask anon!🫶🫶

[cassyapper]

At the beginning of SDC, it seems pretty obvious that Jotaro feels like he can't ask for help/has to do things on his own given his solution to thinking he's possessed and dangerous is to lock himself in a cell until he can figure things out. Would you say that over the course of SDC, Jotaro came to realize/learn he could rely on others only to have that notion obliterated in the final acts, therefore reinforcing his initial ideas that he has to do dangerous things alone lest others get hurt, or do you think he never really believed he could ask for help/rely on others and the happenings of SDC just reinforced that? Maybe some third thing? I've seen various takes and wanna hear yours if you wouldn't mind!

anon i'm literally so excited that you asked me this because it gives me an opportunity to talk about this one aspect of jotaro's character that has driven me fucking nuts since 2020

so, tl;dr: i think it's the third thing and that third thing is it's a mix of he both learned to trust/sdc reinforced his refusal of help shtick (that is to say, he started to learn how to trust people, but because of how it ended, he closed himself off from that path for good)

full story:

i agree with you so much that he starts sdc believing he cannot rely on anyone, that he has to do it all alone lest someone get hurt. he more or less says this straight up in the prison scene, so you know I'm not just pulling this out of my ass:

HOWEVER: i think during the journey to cairo, he starts to learn to let go a bit. he still prefers to be in control, do not get me wrong, but he's willing to reach out more, to rely on others. we see this highlighted best in the lover's arc, with how he depends on kakyoin to keep his grandfather safe:

and in the anubis arc, when jotaro outright asks for joseph's help with his wound, and accept's polnareff's help while he waits for joseph to get there

he went from being terrified of when he's not in control and cornering and locking himself up like a rabid animal over it, to being uneasy when he's not in control, but also being able to trust the crusaders to have his back when he needs them. he still unfairly shoulders a lot of burdens, more than he really should, but he wouldn't be jotaro if he didn't. but, at this point, he wasn't so unhealthy about it; he was willing to be taken care of, he was willing to trust that others will do their parts

this doesn't last, though. because jotaro has been taking on so much, he still has this perception that things can really only be okay if he at least has a part in what's going on, should he not be at the head of it. and when the journey ends with his friends dying in battles that he had no part in (ie vanilla ice vs iggy, avdol, and polnareff; dio vs joseph and kakyoin and hierophant's barrier), dying in battles he wasn't there to save them from like before (saying, in justice)...but then he could defeat dio...i think that seriously messed with his head

like the grief alone ruined him, it was so consuming and he was so young and he lost so much in such a short amount of time, and i think the only way he could begin to rationalize it was to find a way to make sure it would never, ever happen again. and given his wont to shoulder things unnecessarily and his need for control before all this, i think that morphed into him being like "only i can fight. only i can go into dangerous situations because only i can ensure defeat of the enemy without dying." it's not that he thinks others are incapable necessarily (though he does have issues in that regard), it's just he thinks of himself as like, the op character in a fighting game. you can win any fight no sweat with him. you don't have to try as hard or lose as much health if you use him. and since this is real life, isn't it then his moral obligation to be the one at the front all the time? if he's the one who will be less hurt, less likely to die, while still getting the same result of killing the enemy? he thinks of himself as a one-man army

anyway that's part of why sdc is such a tragedy to me. jotaro was learning, he was reaching out, he was choosing to trust others for the first time in his life, but it got ruined before it could stick. jotaro's own grief prevents him from moving on, from being able to trust like that again, because he had never been stabbed in the underbelly like that and he never, ever wants to again, even if it means he'll die. and he will. and it makes me want to sob and scream and cry

[inkykeiji]

all she want is payback for the way i always play that shit

characters: dabi | todoroki touya

genre: smut + angst

notes: aaaah yikes, sorry it’s so long???? the first part of a companion piece to i can take you there but baby you wont make it back; touya + reader have been fooling around for just under six months, our innocent lil good girl reader is the teeniest, tiniest bit more firm now. jealousy makes people crazy, yk how it is. touya is marginally softer for like, a second or two. | title credit: save that shit by lil peep

warnings: 18+, pseudo-incest (stepcest), public sex, cheating, drug use, generally toxic relationship (possessiveness, jealousy), size difference, dubcon if u squint i guess???, the tiniest bit of cumplay

words: 11k

synopsis:

Why can’t you just be mine? You want to ask, the words searing into your tongue, refusing to leave your lips.

“You’re gonna make yourself sick, angel,” he chastises softly, brushing your hair away from your clammy forehead as another shuddery sob rips through your chest.

“I want you,” you say instead, words garbled.

“You have me, baby,”

“All of you,”

His chest heaves with an exasperated sigh, head turning away and gazing up at the ceiling. “You have all of me, princess,”

      ✰          ✰          ✰          ✰          ✰          ✰          ✰         

In early February, your parents finally tie the knot.

“Now it’ll be official,” you remember Touya whispering in your ear, the night before. “I will officially be your niichan,”

The wedding is gorgeous—elegant and classy, just like Rei herself. A wintertime wedding is so beautiful, you tell Rei as she’s busy being fawned over by several stylists, adding the finishing touches to her hair and make up. She’s absolutely stunning, a lacy ivory dress clinging delicately to her small frame, accentuating her natural curves. It glitters gracefully in the pale sunshine streaming through the large bay windows, sparkling any time she moves.

Touya doesn’t sit with his family. Their eyes sear into your flesh, although Touya keeps his stare pointedly in front of him, glaring at the alter. But you can feel their gaze on your skin, can feel their eyes travelling up your body slowly, critically, sending shivers skittering up your spine. It makes your skin crawl, both of your hands curling around Touya’s, a tangled knot of fingers resting in your lap.

You’ve never seen his other siblings before. Rei talks about them sometimes, but never when Touya’s around. You know that once every month, the three of them join Rei and your father for a family dinner, but you’ve never had the pleasure of attending.

You’d missed the first family dinner by fluke, held up late at the library studying for midterms. But every occasion after that, Touya had made absolute certain that you weren’t there. You hadn’t thought much of it the first time it happened, too enraptured and tangled up in Touya to care, grinding desperately against him in the backseat of his car as his tongue forced its way down your throat. But then it happens again, and again, and it becomes too coincidental to ignore.

“Why do we never go to those dinners with your siblings?” you’d tried to bring it up subtly the third time you guys skipped out on dinner, heart thudding in your chest and gentle voice quivering slightly.

Touya sighed, raking a hand through his hair roughly, eyes not straying from the road ahead of him. It’s complicated, he told you in a quiet voice, and you were so startled, so shocked by his sheer, unadulterated honesty, that you couldn’t find your voice, rendering you incapable of replying. Touya didn’t bother looking over at you, didn’t need to, to know that his response surprised you.

The other Todoroki’s are all strikingly beautiful—not that you expected any less. The one with pure snow-white hair and gunmetal grey eyes captures your attention the most, looking as if he’s around your age. He smirks at you when he catches your stare, giving you a small, polite nod—though you can see that tiny glint of mischief in his eye, the same glint you’ve seen in Touya’s a thousand times before. Choking on a surprised gasp, you rapidly avert your gaze, eyes snapping back to the pile of hands in your lap.

Touya notices, of course, because Touya notices everything. He doesn’t say anything, but his hand squeezes yours tightly, just a little too tight to be comforting, as his eyes dart to his siblings across the aisle, glare losing most of its heat when it meets his brother’s stare.

Tense shoulders relax, falling slowly with the measured breath he exhales as he turns back to glower at the alter.

You know other guests are staring at you—you can feel their eyes, too. You know the pair of you look more like a couple than siblings, know you should both probably put some distance between yourselves, at least try to keep some semblance of normalcy, some masquerade of a typical sibling relationship.

But Touya’s knee is bouncing, and he seems…unsure. It’s unsettling, really—Touya always seems so confident in himself—and you can almost feel the tense anxiety rolling off of him in heavy waves. So instead of scooting away from him or untangling your hands, your other palm finds a spot high on the thigh pressed tightly against yours, small fingers beginning to knead the flesh.

Sapphire eyes find yours, and he gazes down at you with an odd sense of fondness in his stare, the tiniest smile ghosting across his lips. It makes your chest swell with pride, makes you want to grab his face and crash his lips against yours, forces a tingling warmth to spread through your veins. It shouldn’t, but it does.

He barely lets you leave his side that day, keeps you glued to his body, an arm wrapped tightly around you. He’s a constant, looming, protective presence, glaring at anyone who dares to look at you for more than a second.

“Touya-nii,” you laugh a little while leaving the ceremony, watching as one of your cousins immediately averts their eyes. “That’s my cousin,”

“And I’m your brother,” he says flatly.

You suppose he has a point.

The two of you find your parents and the rest of Touya’s siblings—yours too, now, you guess—standing around a limousine, beckoning you over.

Rei begins to explain their protocol for pictures—and yes, you both have to come—but you aren’t listening. Their eyes are on you again, you can feel them, gliding up your skin, taking sharp note of the way Touya has you pressed flush against him, the way your arm is wrapped firmly around his waist, little fingers twisting in his suit jacket as your heart begins to speed up.

Touya can feel it, too, and he looks down at you in concern, his thumb caressing your shoulder, before he meets the stares of his siblings with a glare so ferocious you’re surprised it doesn’t turn them to ash on the spot.

They offer for you to ride in the limo with the rest of them, Touya cutting them off as he curtly declines their offer—no thanks, you’ll take his car instead and meet them there.

Rei tries to reason with him, but the pointed look he gives her causes her to trail off mid-sentence, holding his eyes for a moment before a sad smile settles on her face, nodding once.

       ✰          ✰          ✰

Shinjuku Gyoen is nothing short of stunning in the wintertime. It had snowed this morning, around six AM, blanketing the garden in a soft layer of pure white powder, glittering delicately in the early afternoon sun.

Wide eyes drink it in as your face presses against the glass of the car window, your breath fogging it up. There’s something so whimsical and dreamy about snow, you think, about the way it softens even the sharpest of edges, the way it makes everything look prettier.

“You’re so cute,” Touya remarks, watching you from the corner of his eye, a hint of teasing in his voice.

“I’ve never been here during the winter,” you murmur in response, still captivated by the grounds.

Rei and your father are immediately whisked away by several photographers to do their photos alone, leaving the rest of you to litter the parking lot.

But the moment they disappear from view, Touya’s got you trapped between his body and the cold metal of his car, lips moving against the shell of your ear as he whispers filthy promises, things that force soft whimpers from your lips, things that make your legs feel like they’re about to give out as heat pools deep in your belly. He knows, of course, smirks and teases you even more when he feels you squeeze your thighs together helplessly, tells you you’re his perfect little slut and vows to reward you for being so good as soon as he can.

His other siblings are staring, you try to tell him in a quiet, broken whine.

“Oh yeah?” he breathes, pushing his hips harder into yours, practically grinding his hard cock against your waist. “Let ‘em. I bet they’d love to watch me fuck you stupid, huh? What do you think about that, baby? You want them to watch?”

A pathetic sound hitches in your throat and you bury your burning face in his neck, a low, wicked laugh rumbling deep in his chest.

He doesn’t let up on the absolute filth spilling from his mouth until he can hear your father hollering in the distance, calling for the kids and waving the five of you over.

       ✰          ✰          ✰

Pictures take too long, and Touya’s antsy by the end of it, picking anxiously at his cuticles as his knee bounces. He’s hauling you out of there the moment you’re officially released, a strong hand wrapped tightly around your wrist. You can hear his mother calling for him, and you look back at her desperately, mirroring her worried frown.

He doesn’t even wait for the rest of them to pile into the limo and leave, immediately rooting through his pockets the moment he’s in the safety of his own car, pulling out a little baggie of white powder. He can feel your wide eyes on him, watching his every movement, but his hands are beginning to shake, and panic is starting to rip viciously at his throat, and he just needs it all to fucking stop.

“There’s no way I could endure this shit sober,” he explains as he searches for something in the powder, cursing when he doesn’t find whatever it is he’s looking for. Frantic cobalt eyes dart around the car, landing on the glovebox, and he leans over you, hastily pulling a reflective object from the compartment.

It’s a mirror.

A tiny, circular mirror that he uses to tap out a line, fingers unsteady and breathing slightly laboured. The gentle sounds of his platinum credit card colliding with glass echo throughout the car.

Hovering over the small mirror, he pauses, a finger pressed to his nostril. He almost wants to tell you to look away, almost does, but he knows you’d disobey either way.

He doesn’t like doing drugs in front of you—you’re too precious, too pure and innocent and he doesn’t want you around anything that could potentially tarnish that. But he also can’t stand that look you get in your eyes, almost like you’re scared of him, on the rare occasions that you have caught him.

He nearly snaps at you when you quietly ask if you can help, if he needs someone to hold the mirror steady, currently balancing on the center console compartment, but you’ve got that goddamn look in your eyes, wide and terrified.

No, he says sternly, telling you that he doesn’t even want you near this stuff, much less touching it.

But cocaine highs don’t last long, he explains to you when you ask about the little round white pills clacking together in his pocket. You’re positive he shouldn’t be mixing drugs like that, positive that your apprehension and disapproval are written clearly across your face, based on the simmering look he shoots at you.

Don’t fucking start.

So you don’t. You swallow down your worries and sit nice and pretty and good for him, just like you’re supposed to.

       ✰          ✰          ✰

He only leaves you twice, briefly, throughout the entire night. The first is almost immediately after you enter the reception venue.

Depositing you near the head table, he tells you to stay put before he hurries away. You know where he’s going, what he’s about to do, an odd ache taking root and throbbing deep in your chest.

He’d scold you if he could see you, able to read your expressions like a fucking book, would tell you not to cry for him—he doesn’t need your pity. The words cut through your mind in a snarl, and you work hard to rid your face of the frown marring it; he’s already having such a difficult time today, and the last thing you want to do is upset him more with your concern.

Distraction, you need a distraction. Wide eyes scan the extravagant ballroom, all shimmering golds and beiges and crystal chandeliers, searching in a frenzy for something—anything—to rid your mind of images of pretty boys with inky hair and white, white, white.

You swear you hear your name, then Touya’s, hissed out in a sharp whisper, and your gaze lands on a small group of people not too far from you, with snow and fire for hair—the other Todoroki’s, huddled in a loose circle.

The air around you just feels off, you catch his sister saying in a low but frantic voice, eyes darting between her brothers. She sounds worried about you, you think, and it makes you feel weird. She shouldn’t be worried about you; Touya takes fantastic care of you. It isn’t any of their business anyway, you can almost hear Touya sneering in your head, and he’s right. You know he’s right.

Her brothers don’t look too keen on discussing the subject, especially the youngest, who keeps pulling at his collar and fidgeting with his cufflinks.

“Well, why don’t you go and tell her that yourself,” the one with white hair says, grey eyes connecting with yours. She whirls around quickly, mouth snapping shut when she finds your face. Her lips morph into a smile half a second later, and she waves you over.

You avert your eyes, hands tangling nervously in front of you. No. You shouldn’t go. You really, really shouldn’t go. Touya told you to stay put, and you can’t bear to think—don’t even want to consider—how furious he’d be if he found that not only had you moved, but you had moved to talk to his siblings.

You must spend too much time deliberating, though, looking back up to find them advancing towards you, only a few feet away. Your heart’s pounding almost violently in your chest, breath accelerating with each step closer.

“Hi,” she’s saying warmly as she reaches you, causing you to subconsciously take a step back. “We haven’t had a chance to meet. I’m Fuyumi,”

You want to say your name, to introduce yourself politely, but your lips are sealed shut, only able to manage a small sound of affirmation.

“Shouto,” the youngest says, cold heterochromatic eyes glancing at you for a moment before looking away. “M’Shouto,”

“I’m Natsuo,” the man with white hair smirks down at you, eyes burning into yours.

Some of your anxiety melts away as you meet his stone eyes; there’s something comforting about the way that he has Touya’s smirk, Touya’s mischievous glint to his gaze, Touya’s playful lilt to his voice.

You feel like you can breathe again when you’re looking at Natsuo, so you keep your stare directed at him as you stutter out your name, gazing up at him through your lashes.

“You always miss the family dinners,” Natsuo accuses with a knowing smirk, raising his eyebrows suggestively. “Y’know, eventually, our parents are going to catch on,”

Your blood turns to ice in your veins, chills crawling on your skin. He knows?

And he says it so nonchalantly, so casually, as if he’s discussing the weather and not the fact that Touya deliberately kidnaps you to fuck your brains out in his car every single time they gather for one of those dinners. Fuyumi and Shouto look over at him with brows furrowed in confusion, but you choke on a gasp, coughing a little and nodding.

Touya returns then, saving you from having to respond.

“What’s wrong?” he’s asking immediately as his hands find purchase on your hips, pulling you back against his chest and wrapping his arms around you. A soft sigh leaves your lips as you lean on him, heart finally beginning to slow.

“N-Nothing, niichan,” you wrap your arms around his, hugging them to your chest, and he squeezes you in reassurance.

“You sure, baby?” Sapphire eyes search your face as you tilt your head back to look up at him, scanning for any sign of distress.

He shouldn’t be using that pet name here, not in front of his blood siblings, not loud enough that any of the passing guests can hear him with ease.

He shouldn’t.

But that doesn’t stop it from sending sparks skittering up your spine, heat beginning to coil in your tummy. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it, if you said you didn’t get some sort of twisted satisfaction at the loud gasp that leaves Fuyumi’s chest, or the sharp intake of breath Shouto chokes on, coughing as he tries to cover it up, all at the drop of that one, simple, four letter word.

Touya loves it, too—you can see it in the way his smirk grows into a full smile, a grin big enough to crinkle the edges of his eyes, can see it in his gaze, in the way his cobalt eyes almost sparkle at their reactions.

Your gaze flits back to the three people standing in front of you—your step-siblings, your mind corrects—eyes gliding over their faces slowly.

Natsuo looks thoroughly entertained, a stupid little grin stretched across his face, amusement dancing in his eyes. Fuyumi and Shouto, on the other hand, look thoroughly uncomfortable, shifting a little in place, their faces screwed up with poorly masked disgust.

Touya’s smile drops the moment he looks back at them. Azure eyes scan the faces of his siblings cautiously, giving Natsuo one quick, sharp nod of acknowledgment before his gaze lands on the youngest. And the glare Touya gives him is nothing short of terrifying, practically snarling at the boy, a rough, dangerous sound that gets lodged deep in his chest. It makes the boy cower away, shuffling ever-so-slightly closer to his sister, who shakily glares back.

Lips tugging down into a frown, you look up at Touya, forehead creasing in confusion. He’s still glowering at the kid, eyes narrowing just a little before he huffs and turns away, leaving without speaking a word to any of them.

“Don’t you ever talk to them again,” he’s murmuring as he whisks you away, something malicious in his voice. “You’re my little sister,”

You nod obediently, promising him that you won’t, reassuring him that you didn’t even want to as you relay the entire situation. But he can see it, the curiosity swirling in your eyes, a question dancing on your tongue.

Because although Touya appears to be on seriously awful terms with his younger siblings, Natsuo seems to be some sort of exception. From the interaction you just witnessed, you’re able to deduce that something, some line of communication, must be present between Touya and Natsuo, evident in their shared looks and swift, discreet nods.

He sighs, irritation coating his voice as he demands that you spit it out already.

It makes you jump a little, but the words come tumbling out of your mouth the moment he commands them to, powerless to disobey a direct order.

“Does that include Natsuo?”

Your voice is so tiny that he barely hears you, brows knitting together. There’s an odd look in his eye as he observes you—something that isn’t quite jealousy, but close to it—nose twitching a little as he considers.

“Alone, yes,” he finally says. “With me around it’s fine, I guess. But you are not to speak to him alone, do you hear me?”

Yes, niichan, of course, niichan.

       ✰          ✰          ✰

Dinner is absolute torture, and the two of you can barely keep your hands off of each other. It starts innocently enough, discreetly enough, with palms on thighs, fingers brushing down arms, hands interlaced under the table. But the need to touch grows, and grows, and grows, these simple actions too teasing to satisfy that dull burning in the pit of your stomach, flaring a little more each time his fingers press into your thigh, or his thumb runs across your knuckles.

And you shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t start acting up now, not while the two of you are seated at the head table, looking out amongst the guests—a few months ago, you would’ve never thought to do something so indecent, so dangerous, in such a public place. But you just can’t help it, you’re getting restless now, brain going hazy with thoughts of him as your fingers trail up his thigh and ghost over his lap.

“Getting bold, are we, princess?” his hand catches your wrist, holding your palm in place and grinding up into it. His voice is low, head tipped towards you, sapphire eyes dark. A breath catches in your throat and he smirks, an evil little quirk up of his lips, raising an eyebrow at you in expectation.

You’re lucky they’re seated in a straight line instead of a circle, he murmurs in your ear, Natsuo snickering beside him. “Imagine what your daddy would think if he could see you, acting like such a desperate little slut in front of all of these people,”

A soft, broken moan escapes your lips without your permission, thighs squeezing together in an attempt to combat the heat pooling in your panties. Someone down the line of the table says something, but you’re too enticed by Touya to hear them, your father writing off whatever the remark was with an easygoing smile.

“Oh, those two are always in their own little world,” you hear him dismiss, voice sounding muddled and distant.  

“Be a good girl and sit still,” Touya growls in your ear, grip tightening to near bruising.

“But niichan,” you whine, much too loud, gazing at him with glazed, blown eyes. “Niichan,” you repeat, leaning forward to whimper in his ear, fingers flexing around the bulge in his trousers. “N-Need you,”

“If you can’t behave, niichan won’t let you cum later,” he breathes, though his voice is stern, heavy with the weight of the threat.

A pout forms on your lips as he releases your wrist, firmly placing your hand back in your lap and holding it there for a moment, a silent warning for your wandering fingers to stay put.

But he’s up and out of his chair the instant dinner’s over, moving so quick his seat wobbles a little as he grasps your hand tightly in his, practically yanking you up and dragging you along behind him.

The best thing about these fancy venues, he’s telling you as he strides through the halls, cerulean eyes searching for something, is that they have single person washrooms.

The granite is cold on your cheek as Touya shoves you up against the wall, head bouncing a little as it whacks against it.

You whine and he laughs, a cruel, piercing sound echoing off the walls.

“Aw, baby,” he coos contemptuously. “Did that hurt?”

“Y-Yes,” you whimper, eyes squeezing shut against the throbbing pain radiating through your cheek.

“Poor little thing,” he hisses, lips against your ear as his hands begin to bunch up your dress, gliding over your silk covered thighs, hands fisting in the material as he goes. Pushing it up around your waist, he leans back, hands travelling over the globes of your ass and kneading hard enough to make you cry out.

“You’re a slutty little brat, y’know that?”

Deft fingers hook in the waistband of your thong, all delicate baby pink lace, Touya snickering about how much of a whore you are, wearing such skimpy, slutty panties, as he lets the elastic snap back against your skin.

A little shocked gasp escapes your lips as he begins tugging the dainty fabric down your thighs—you had expected him to merely push them to the side, but he forces you to take them off entirely, stuffing the soaked material in his pocket.

“You think you can just tease niichan like that and get away with it?”

“No,” you whisper, shaking your head against the wall.

“No,” he murmurs, hips grinding against your bare ass. “Good girls don’t tease their niichans without delivering, do they?”

“No,”

“On your knees,” he orders, spinning you around and stepping back just enough to allow you to sink to the floor. “Get my cock wet,”

Little fingers work quickly, eager to obey, as they undo his pants, practically salivating as you free his cock from its confines.

“Your cock’s so pretty, niichan,” you breathe, eyes glittering with pure, potent desire as you take it in your hands, tongue darting out to trace the prominent veins.

“No teasing,” he growls, a hand knotting in your hair. “I wanna see you choke on it,”

You nod as best you can, mouth instantly falling open, reduced to nothing more than a wet, warm little hole for him to stuff.

And then he’s shoving it down your throat, the hand fisted in your hair holding your head still, and you gag around it almost immediately, working to force you jaw open even more.

“That’s it, that’s my good girl,” he rasps out, voice echoing off the walls of the washroom.

The praise has your heart soaring, has you sucking hard around him as he thrusts into your mouth, coating his cock in thick saliva and desperate to hear more. It’s intoxicating, every quiet moan you manage to pull from him, every breathless good girl that falls from his lips, makes you feel lightheaded and heady and dizzy for more.

His hips pump a few more times before he’s pulling you off his cock completely, devious smirk forming on his lips at your whine of protest, and commanding you to go bend over the sink.

Calloused hands are bunching your dress up around your waist again, toe of his shoe kicking at your inner ankles and forcing your feet further apart.

He doesn’t bother stretching you out, not because he doesn’t have the time to, but because he simply doesn’t want to. It’s truly one of his favourite things, to see tears fill your eyes while his cock stretches your cute little pussy, and he knows you love it too, don’t you?

Yes, niichan, of course you do.

His cock glistens with your saliva, sufficiently wet that it slides in easily enough, with minimal pain for him. And the soft groan he lets out as he watches your little hole struggle to take him, paired with your sweet little whimpers of his name, is nothing short of gorgeous.

It has your pussy fluttering around him, pulling a breathless chuckle from his lips as he fills you to the hilt, hips pressed against your ass.

And then doesn’t fucking move.

Your brow furrows, eyes meeting his in the mirror. You try to fuck yourself back on him, but he’s too quick, hands stilling your hips immediately and tutting in disapproval.

“Niichan,” you whimper. “N-Niichan, please fuck me,”  

“Do you think you deserve it?” he’s asking, tongue tracing the shell of your ear as he holds your gaze through the mirror. “After the way you behaved at dinner?”

“M’sorry,” you whine, wiggling back against him, his fingers digging into your flesh as he stops them, grip tightening. “Couldn’t help it, wanted you so bad,”

“Of course you couldn’t,” he smirks, hips starting to move slowly, teasingly, stilling after only three simple thrusts. A hand reaches down and finds your clit, forcing a gasp from you as his thumb brushes over it, back and forth, back and forth, featherlight grazes that have you arching back into him, trying to press further into his touch.

“Think you can cum just like this for me?” he asks, beginning to thrust shallowly again, just enough to have the head of his cock dragging against that spot buried deep inside your cunt, that spot he knows so well, then nudging your cervix. “Hmm?”

“Mhmm,” you nod, breath starting to come out in short little pants.

“Then do it,” he demands in a whisper, eyes still holding yours. “Show niichan how pretty you look, cumming all over his cock,”

And the combination of his deep, rough voice rumbling against your back as praises tumble from his lips, his thumb and cock, and the fact that anyone within a fifteen foot radius of this washroom could probably hear you, has you cumming within minutes with a sharp cry of Touya-nii!  

Touya laughs at how pathetically quickly you came, about how easy it is to have you creaming on his cock, heat seeping into your cheeks as you try to look away.

“My turn,” he breathes, yanking your head back up by your hair, fingers finding root in the intricate updo that has begun to fall apart. “And I wanna see your face as I fuck you, so keep your damn head up,”

And then he’s slamming into you with enough vigour to propel you forward, face pressed against the mirror, toes barely touching the ground. Every moan and whimper and mewl he forces from your throat fogs up the glass, leaving tiny glistening drops of condensation as they fade.

You’re trying so hard to keep your eyes open, to watch him as he fucks you, because he always looks so damn pretty.  

He’s stupidly attractive, with his shirtsleeves rolled halfway up his forearms, first few buttons undone and collar popped, revealing his sharp collarbone, smooth ivory skin stretched taut across it. Ebony hair clings to his forehead and neck delicately, coated in sweat, and he’s emitting the most glorious noises, heavy pants and little broken whines, peppered with praise.

Nails bite into your flesh as he holds you in place, hips snapping relentlessly, your fingers curling around the porcelain sink.

“You want niichan’s cum?” he growls in your ear, eyes burning into yours. You whimper in response, nodding against the mirror. “Yeah? Then fucking beg for it.”

Pleads are spilling from your lips immediately, nothing but senseless babbling as he pounds into you.

“Please, niichan, please, need it, your cum, stuff me with your cum,”

“That’s it,” he gasps, voice hoarse. “I want every single person in this godforsaken hall to hear you, I want every single person to know how much of—” he cuts himself off with a shuddery curse. “—How much of a slut my baby sister is,”

“Pretty please,” you whine out the words, eyes rolling back in your head. “Fill me up with your cum, niichan, I-I want it,”

His hips still just as your cunt clenches around him, cockhead pressed tightly against your cervix as he fills you with hot, thick ropes of cum.

He pulls out a few moments later, and you uncurl your fingers from around the rim of the sink, wincing at your appearance; lips bitten raw, hair beginning to fall from it’s elegant style, body covered in a thin layer of sweat.

You look back at him to find him already staring at you, expectantly, impatiently, hands jittery as he quirks his head towards the door.

“We can’t leave together,” he says, as if it’s obvious, even though you stumbled into the washroom together twenty minutes ago.

He needs more.

You nod, slow and dumb, staggering a little on your trembling legs. Grasping the doorknob you pause, turning to look at him again.

“What?” he asks as he searches through his pockets, not bothering to glance at you. He can feel your eyes on him.

“Um...” you shift nervously from foot to foot, lip caught between your teeth.

He looks over at you sharply, brows rising as if to ask why are you still here?

“M-My panties, niichan,”

Oh.

A wicked smirk spreads across his face, eyes twinkling, brows relaxing.

“What about them?”

“Well, I—I can’t return to the reception without them,”

“Oh, and why not?”

You pause, blinking a few times, at a loss for words. Why not? Because you can feel his cum beginning to trickle out of you, mixing with your juices and dribbling down your inner thigh?

“Exactly,” he says, when you take too long to reply. “Now be a good little girl and go. I’ll be out soon,”

       ✰          ✰          ✰

You don’t go back into the ballroom, terrified that you’ll be ambushed by his—your—siblings again. Collapsing in one of the plush chairs, you cross your quivering legs tightly in a desperate attempt to keep the cum oozing out of you from getting on your dress.

People are looking again, probably think you’re drunk based on the way you teetered over to the seat, or the way your hair’s begun to come undone from it’s intricate updo, wispy strands framing your face.

He returns from the washroom only a few minutes later, eyes finding you immediately. There’s a stupid, smug smirk on his face, thinks it’s so cute that he fucked you so good you can’t walk, can’t even get up, that you need your niichan to help you.

A pout forms on your lips, eyebrows furrowing. “Not funny,”

“Very funny,” he chuckles as his hands snake under your armpits, hauling you to your feet. You stumble a little, bumping into him and he laughs again, wrapping a sturdy arm around your waist and propping you up against him.

“Alright, let’s get this over with,”

“Oh, niichan,” you murmur and he pauses, glancing over at you. You reach up, your thumb swiping across his nose to collect excess white powder.

“Thanks,” he breathes, winking at you. You hum noncommittally, about to rub your thumb across his white dress shirt to clean it when he catches your hand, bringing your thumb to his lips and licking it instead.

It isn’t discreet. It’s slow and deliberate, tongue sticking out of his mouth, flattening it against your thumb and dragging it up, from base to tip. You’re sure someone saw that, but you can’t be bothered to care, not when another bout of intense heat rushes to your core, forcing you to squeeze your legs together, trying in vain to keep Touya’s cum from seeping out, from your juices traveling down your leg. A soft whimper leaves your lips, breathing beginning to accelerate as your eyes bore into his, now half-lidded and dark. He holds your gaze for a moment before something snaps.

“We need to go,” he says, voice firm with no room for negotiation. “Now.”

And, God, his voice is rough and raw and fucking dripping with desire. It’s got you nodding before he’s even finished speaking, a flock of butterflies invading your stomach at the downright sinful grin he gives you in response. Such a good girl for him.

Despite the fact that you’ve barely recovered from your previous orgasm, you nearly moan at his look alone, the urge to kiss him burning through your veins and alighting your entire body in direct juxtaposition to the shivers his eyes just sent rippling across your skin. The insatiable need overwhelms your senses, and it’s dangerous. It’s dangerous, how captivated he has you, entirely wrapped around his slim finger and hanging on his every word, how you’re positive that, in that moment, you’d do anything he asked.

You wobble awkwardly in your heels, legs still shaking and having trouble keeping up with Touya’s swift pace. You’re about to ask him to slow down just a little so you don’t break an ankle, when you bump into your father.

Who just so happens to provide you with the perfect excuse to leave early. You can practically see the gears clicking into place in Touya’s mind, sapphire eyes glittering as a sinister smirk spreads across his face.

Your father’s eyes widen as he observes your appearance, strands of hair sticking to your clammy face and eyes half-lidded, chapped lips beginning to crack, leaning heavily against Touya and seemingly too weak to stand on your own.

“Hi dad,” you greet hoarsely, wincing a little at how grating your voice sounds.

He frowns immediately. “Jesus, sweetheart, are you feeling alright? You look…” he trails off, forehead wrinkling with worry.

“Oh, she’s not feeling too good,” Touya says softly, smoothly, just the right amount of concern and compassion in his tone.

“Oh no,” your father breathes, frown deepening. “That’s terrible,” he clicks his tongue with a shake of his head. “Do you think you’ll be able to tough out the rest of the reception?”

You begin to croak out an answer, but Touya speaks over you.

“She’s burning up, sir,” he informs him, and it isn’t a lie—not exactly, anyway. Technically, if your father were to feel your forehead, your body temperature would be above average, a result of Touya fucking the absolute life out of you a mere ten minutes ago.

Touya looks down at you with painfully sympathetic eyes, but you can still see that little glint of mischief, buried under all of that artificial benevolence.

“Maybe I should take her home?” Touya muses, looking back at your father, mimicking his anxiety effortlessly.

“Mm,” he hums in agreement. “I think that’s the best thing to do,” his eyes dart to yours. “You really don’t look well,”

Oh, you’re sure you don’t. Resting a little more against Touya, you play up the symptoms a bit, whimpering quietly as little fingers twist in his shirt, nuzzling your face against his side. A soft noise of endearment sounds at the back of his throat, large hands readjusting your body to support you better.

Another whimper falls from your lips, but this time it isn’t from pretending you’re ill. You can feel his cum leaking out of you, slimy and cool as it drips down your inner thigh, and a sick thrill shoots through your body, abused cunt throbbing greedily.

Rei comes up behind your father then, wrapping her arms around his midsection and resting her chin on his shoulder, eyes flitting between the two of you carefully.

“What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

“I’m gonna bring this little princess home,” Touya explains, nodding his head at you in indication as he speaks. “She isn’t feeling very well, poor thing,”

And it’s scary, scary how terrific he is at lying, how easily he slips into that niichan role, the one painstakingly crafted and flawlessly maintained around your parents, the one he’s perfected at this point.

Rei doesn’t say much, only cooing in sympathy, remarking that it’s such a shame, but your father’s eyes soften. “Such a good big brother,” he praises, clapping a hand on Touya’s shoulder.

Touya has to consciously work to smother the smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he responds.

“You have no idea,”  

       ✰          ✰          ✰

Your parents don’t come home that night, opting to go straight to the airport from the venue, embarking on their honeymoon immediately.

It’s nice, playing house with Touya, having the entire place completely to yourselves. He’s been home an awful lot these past few weeks, more than he ever has in the past, and you get to experience things you never could before.

Every morning and every night, you cook breakfast and dinner together. You go grocery shopping together, wash the dishes together, fold the laundry together, all while stealing kisses in between; little domestic things you didn’t really do with your parents around.

You spend every night that they’re away in his bed, being fucked into his mattress, surrounded by the smell of him—campfire and Marlboros and expensive cologne—absolutely full of him in every sense.

You wake up in the mornings with his hand between your legs, playing with your cute little clit, or his cock pressed against your ass, grinding until you wake up. You have sleepy, slow morning sex while you’re both still half asleep, and it’s the most gentle he’s ever been. It consists of lazy, sloppy, messy thrusts against each other, hips meeting halfway—just grinding until he gets too impatient, though he usually lets you cum two or three times before he finally flips you over, trapping you under his body and slamming his hips into you, growling and grunting, your legs pushed up and folded on either side of you.

You get to fuck in the kitchen—not that you hadn’t before, but this time you get to take it slow. He eats you out while you sit on the counter and then fucks you into oblivion and it’s nasty, it’s disgusting, it’s so good. He cums so much that it’s leaking out of you, onto the counter, his chest heaving as he observes it with an odd little smile and a soft “fuck,”

And you get to fuck in the bathtub, that big jacuzzi in your parents room, water and bubbles sloshing around as you bounce on his cock, loud cries echoing off the walls.

It’s going great, until the last weekend of the honeymoon, a mere few days before your parents are supposed to return.

       ✰          ✰          ✰

A party.

Keigo tries to talk him out of it, tries to at least talk him out of letting you stay.

“She shouldn’t be here,” you hear Keigo hiss under his breath as guests begin to fill the house, Touya snorting in retort.

Keigo doesn’t think you should be around any of this at all—there’s no reason you should have to witness this shit, you catch him growling, gold eyes blazing. No, not a poor innocent babygirl like you, this isn’t the place for you.

But Touya’s too stubborn, too selfish to let Keigo take you out for the night. He knows he’s right, would rather not have you around these people, but he doesn’t have a fucking choice. The thought of you being out of his sight, out with another man, has anxiety rising in his throat, panic clawing at his chest.

As a result, you spend the entirety of the party being passed between Touya and Keigo. There are so many girls here, so many people you don’t know, wide eyes scanning the living room as your fingers twist in Keigo’s hoodie.

Niichan’s busy, Touya tells you, when you ask why you can’t just stay with him, when you ask where he keeps disappearing off to. Niichan’s working, don’t you know? Be a good girl and stay with Kei.

You can tell that Keigo isn’t happy about it. He coos softly when you timidly ask if he’s upset that he’s stuck babysitting you all night, in the middle of an apology when he cuts you off.

“It isn’t your fault, songbird,” he murmurs, gentle fingers tracing the curve of your face.

He’s even angrier at Touya when he takes that first girl back to his room, because the look on your face—the way it crumples accompanied by a soft, hurt sound caught at the back of your throat—kills him.

And it isn’t like you don’t know about his side whores. You do. They’re customers, he had snapped at you, the only time you had ever asked about it. But it’s an entirely different thing to actually have to witness it with your own eyes.

You can’t help the flare of jealousy that rises in your chest every time he takes a girl by the hand and leads them to his bedroom. It stings, burns, feels like a fire’s been lit in your chest, filling your lungs with dense smoke and making it hard for you to breathe.

Keigo tries his best to distract you, gentle fingers on your cheeks turning your face towards him, golden eyes softening in sympathy. He keeps you as preoccupied as he can, but it still isn’t enough. Your eyes are drawn to Touya every time he’s in the room—an automatic, instinctual reaction you couldn’t control even if you wanted to.

And every time you watch a girl giggle into his ear, or hop up with him, that fire smoldering in your chest blazes, rages, has you wheezing and hissing and pressing a palm flat against yourself, a desperate attempt to get the pain to stop.

Tomura’s here, too, though he’s sitting in a shrouded corner on his phone, the light from the screen reflected on his pale face, colours flashing intermittently. He looks absorbed with whatever he’s doing on there—probably playing a game, Keigo tells you, but why are you interested, anyway?

You don’t know, you aren’t sure, you can’t exactly put it into words. He terrifies you, but he sparks a morbid curiosity in you, too. He’s so silent, private, almost inobtrusive; and yet Touya never lets you anywhere near him. Your eyes keep flitting his way, as if trying to will something to happen, staring at him longingly and hoping he’ll look up from his phone for a split second and catch your gaze, that he’ll somehow magically get the hint that you’re desperate and dying to talk to him, and take the first step.

But it doesn’t happen.

Touya is thoroughly unimpressed each and every time he finds you sitting on Keigo’s knee or lap, leaning back against his chest as he speaks with that easygoing lilt that is so distinctly him, but there isn’t much he can do. The third time he returns to take you from his friend he can tell you’re beginning to get tired, can see it in your eyes, in the way you’re cuddling into a warm chest. He debates sending you to bed right then and there, but you protest, little hands tangling in Keigo’s hoodie.

“Aw, she’s alright for a little more, isn’t she?”

Touya’s sharp jaw clenches twice and he exhales slowly through his nose, eyes darting between your faces.

“Fine,” he says, although it doesn’t seem fine.

And you are exhausted, straddling Keigo’s hips, face pressed into his shoulder and hot breath evening out softly against his neck. Fingers ghost up and down your spine nonchalantly as Keigo talks softly to the people around him, his laugh vibrating against your chest and filling you with an odd, tingly sensation, a warmth that seeps through your body. You snuggle a little closer to him and he coos, readjusting you in his lap and wrapping an arm around your waist, holding you tightly to him.

“Don’t wanna go to bed with him,” you whisper, words muffled by his skin.

Keigo hums in question, squeezing you once. “Who, songbird?” he presses his lips to your ear as inconspicuously as he can, lidded gold eyes lazily scanning the room for your brother. “Touya?”

You nod sluggishly, little fingers curling in his hoodie, a silent plea not to let you go.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” Keigo says softly with a small chuckle, but it sounds off to your ears—sad, even.

“Don’t wanna,” you repeat, pout evident in your voice. “Wanna stay with you,”

You wouldn’t have noticed the way his chest hitches at those four words if you weren’t pressed flush against it. But you feel it, feel his breath getting caught in his throat, reverberating against you as he clears it quietly. Unexpected guilt sours your mouth, makes your stomach turn to a block of heavy lead, weighting your body down.

“You know you can’t, sweetheart,” he finally responds, voice cracking just a bit, right on that last word. “Don’t hurt your niichan like that, he loves you,”

No he doesn’t, you want to say, but you can’t seem to force the words from your mouth, opting to shake your head instead, eyes shutting tightly against the burn of tears.

“He does,” Keigo says, more sternly this time. “Don’t doubt that,”

But you’re not so sure. If Touya loved you—really loved you—would he have disappeared no less than three times tonight, each with a different girl, leading them into his bedroom with those dark glittering sapphire eyes while they gaze up at him like he hung the fucking moon himself?

Honestly, is that even a question you want answered?

You keep your face buried in Keigo’s chest to block it out, to keep yourself from watching your big brother as he flits around the room, handing out discreet baggies in exchange for ridiculous wads of cash and talking in hushed voices, in code, to men who look much too old to be at a house party.

Eventually, Touya returns to retrieve you, bending down and speaking softly.

“It’s time for bed, princess,” A hand pets your head, and you flinch away.

“Hey,” you feel the couch dip beside you as he sits down. “Look at me,”

You’re shaking your head, trying in vain to press even closer to Keigo, but that doesn’t stop Touya from reaching out and gripping your chin, forcing you to face him.

Crystal eyes search your face carefully, wide and alert—he always works sober, you found out. He can tell you’re upset, can see it written plain as day across your face, eyes glassy with your lips set in a deep pout, eyebrows pushed together. Exhaling harshly, he closes his eyes, fingers rubbing at his eyes in exasperation.

“C’mon,” he says lowly, wrapping a hand around your bicep and tugging as he stands.

“No,” you nearly growl, shaking your head and viciously pulling your arm from his grip.

Touya stares at you for a moment, like he cannot believe you just had the audacity to tell him no, before he speaks, an incredulous laugh bubbling up from his chest. “What did you just say?”

Keigo’s sitting up straighter now, more alert as your body subconsciously curls into his chest, cowering away from your big brother. “Y-You heard me,”

Snorting in disbelief, Touya raises his eyebrows as his tongue runs along the front of his teeth, huffing out the remnants of a chuckle before his smile drops completely, blue fire blazing in his dark eyes.

“Get up,” he snarls, hand in a vice grip around your arm as he yanks harshly. The force of it has you practically falling off Keigo’s lap, though Touya catches you roughly before your knees hit the hardwood, hoisting you up by your arm to stand on unsteady feet.

“Move.” He instructs, giving you a shove in the vague direction of his bedroom. “Now.”

His chest bumps into your back and you stumble forward, yelping softly. He keeps pushing like this, strong hand clasping your shoulder so tightly you’re sure you’ll have five little bruises in the shape of his fingerprints in the morning, driving you to walk with the sheer force of his body.

“No,” your whispering, trying desperately to turn back and look at him as you approach his door, tears flooding your eyes, frantically shaking your head and trying your damnedest to plant your feet, heels digging into the floor in an attempt to stop him from pushing you forward.

“You really gonna say no to me a second time tonight? In less than fifteen minutes? You think that’s wise, baby?”

You don’t—of course you don’t. It’s probably one of the stupidest things you could do, in this situation.

But even though you know, know this isn’t a smart move, know you shouldn’t be testing him like this—challenging him like this, especially in front of so many people—you’re powerless to control the words that tumble from your lips next.

“I don’t want to sleep in a bed that’s been infested by your whores,”

They come out as a hiss—you don’t mean for them to, but they do, voice quivering under the combined weight of your fury and fear.

That gets him to stop, entire body going rigid. Icy dread rushes through your veins, panic clawing its way up your throat, forcing uneven breaths through your parted lips. Squeezing your eyes shut tightly, you brace yourself for the impact of his bellowing voice, shoulders tensing in anticipation for the blow, for him to really snap.

Except then he starts laughing, his hand relaxing around your shoulder, spinning you around to face him as he backs you up against his bedroom door, caging you in with his body.

“That’s what this is about?”

Eyebrows furrowing, you blink twice in disbelief, prompting hot tears to finally spill over. “I—Wh-Why are you laughing?”

“Because you’re being silly, princess,”

It hurts, stings like three massive spikes just shot through your heart, causes a tiny whimper to sound from deep in your throat, chest hiccupping with pathetic little half-sobs.

“Sil…Silly?” Time feels as if it’s slowed, your sluggish brain having trouble comprehending the situation unfolding.

His lips pull down into a frown, eyes narrowing slightly as he regards you with extreme precision. “Yeah,” he says, but his voice sounds far away, muffled, like you’re underwater and he’s speaking to you from above the surface. “Hey—”

Your head’s shaking again, in slow, delayed motions from side to side. “No,” you whisper. “No.”

You feel nauseous, and the proximity of his presence is only making it worse, making you feel like you could hurl at any moment. Little hands find purchase on his chest and push, stomach lurching painfully as your head spins.

He catches your wrists easily, holding them together in one large hand, his other coming to grip your chin and force you to look at him.

Thick silence settles between the two of you as Touya’s eyes study your face slowly, noting the tears flowing steadily down your face, the way your breath stutters with sobs you’re so desperately trying to hold back, the way your entire body trembles.

“Are you seriously upset over this?” he asks, laughing a little.

Your gaze holds his, tears casting a thick, gleaming screen across your eyes.

“Yes, Touya,” you whisper, wishing your voice didn’t sound as small and weak as it does. “I’m seriously upset,”

That’s the first time you’ve used his first name—just his first name, void of any honorific—in a long, long time.

It gets him to pause again, his usual and well-worn mask of passivity melting away for just a second as shock crosses his face. Then his features are hardening again, brows knitting together and creasing his forehead, eyes narrowing into near slits.

“Don’t be fucking stupid,” he spits harshly, the words cutting into your flesh. “You know none of them mean a thing,”

“Then why do you fuck around with them?” you shoot back almost immediately, voice fading into a whisper.

He glares at you, as if you’re wasting his precious time with such childish questions when he’s told you this already, and you can see the blue fire simmering in his eyes.

“It’s late,” he says curtly, voice sounding off to you. “You need sleep.”

You try to fight him on it, but he’s too quick, reflexes too swift, and he shoves you into his room, door slamming shut less than a second later.

Tears obstruct your vision as you stumble around, finally finding his desk chair and collapsing heavily. You don’t even bother trying to open the door, know it’s locked without having to hear that soft click! as the lock turns into place.

He’s right—it is late, well past three in the morning, and you are utterly exhausted, drawing your knees up to your chest and curling up in the plush chair.

But no matter how tired you are, you absolutely refuse to sleep in his bed. The party’s dying down, you can hear Touya’s muffled farewells as guests begin to leave while you fade in and out of consciousness.

You think you might’ve heard Keigo say something, might’ve caught the word stay, might’ve detected the annoyance laced in Touya’s voice as he responds, but you’re too worn out to reflect on it.

At some point in the night, Touya reenters his room, chuckling a little at your antics and carrying you to his bed.

The move wakes you, and you weakly protest—no, you don’t want to be in this bed, please, just let you go sleep in your own bed—but Touya ignores you entirely, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you tightly to his chest.

It’s then that the tears start up again, salt staining your puffy cheeks, head beginning to throb from dehydration.

“Shh, baby, shh,” he hushes you, nimble fingers combing through your hair. “I’m here, right here,”

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Touya over these past few weeks, it’s that he becomes marginally softer in the middle of the night. Your fingers twist in his t-shirt, trying in vain to pull yourself impossibly closer, Touya making a soft noise akin to a coo in the back of his throat.

“I’ve got you, niichan’s got you,”

You hate it. You hate that he’s the only person you want comforting you right now, as you lay in his bed, surrounded by the smell of cheap perfume and clinging in desperation to him, needing him close, needing his body heat warming you and his hands on you. You hate the way your sobs come harder the more he soothes you, the heavy ache in your chest almost bruising, crushing your lungs and making it near impossible to breathe.

But you crave his comfort nonetheless. It’s a special kind of comfort, one that’s difficult to describe, one that only comes from the love and adoration and protection of a big brother.

Why can’t you just be mine? You want to ask, the words searing into your tongue, refusing to leave your lips.

“You’re gonna make yourself sick, angel,” he chastises softly, brushing your hair away from your clammy forehead as another shuddery sob rips through your chest.

“I want you,” you say instead, words garbled.

“You have me, baby,”

“All of you,”

His chest heaves with an exasperated sigh, head turning away and gazing up at the ceiling. “You have all of me, princess,”

There’s something in his voice that makes you stop, pause, his words reverberating in your mind. He sounds almost like…like he’s upset over this fact, like he wishes that you didn’t have all of him.

You want to press for more, to probe and prod and pick away at it, but exhaustion finally claims you, rendering you incapable of speech, your tongue moving sluggishly in your mouth as you desperately try to form words.

       ✰          ✰          ✰

It’s grey when you wake, only a few hours later, eyes sticky and dry from lack of sleep. Your head is pounding, feels like it’s been stuffed full of cotton, lips cracked and dry from dehydration, and a painful lump forms almost immediately in your throat when you get a whiff of sickly sweet artificial vanilla, then another of intense, synthetic citrus.

The tears are starting up again, collecting in your eyes and clouding your vision. It makes you nauseous, makes your skin crawl and your chest burn as your throat fills with acid. The tears sting, but you blink hard to keep them at bay. You will not cry, not in front of him, not in his bed surrounded by the remnants of those other girls, not again. You refuse to give them the satisfaction.

You spring up quickly, halfway through climbing over Touya’s body when a strong hand latches onto your wrist.

“No,” Touya mumbles, face half buried in his pillow. “Stay,”

“No,” you whisper, pulling yourself free from his grasp and hurrying out of his room. You can smell them on your clothes, on your skin, and it makes you want to scrub your body under scalding water until it’s raw.

Everything hurts—it hurts so much it feels like your chest is collapsing in on itself, like you can’t breathe, gasping for air as you stumble onto the porch, nearly tripping over your own feet as you stop and realize you have nowhere to go.

Touya has cut you off from all of your friends at this point; any spare time you had was now claimed by him.

And that’s exactly why he doesn’t bother rolling out of bed to follow after you, isn’t worried about you going anywhere, knows you can’t leave him, no matter how badly you want to. No, not a precious little girl like you, with nowhere to find refuge.

You sit down heavily on one of the front steps, vision so blurry with tears you’re barely able to make out the figure advancing towards you. They’re finally escaping your eyes, rolling down your cheeks as you blink twice, trying to clear them. Your chest stutters under the force of a sob you’re desperately trying to hold back, clapping both hands over your mouth in an attempt to silence it.

“Hey—oh no,” Keigo breathes the moment your watery eyes look up at him. You squeeze your eyes shut, causing more tears to leak out as your shoulders shake, whole body trembling from the force of your sobs, poorly muffled by your palms.

“No, no, no, sweetheart,” he’s saying as he rushes to sit down next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders tightly.

Keigo’s the closest thing you have to a friend now. And really, you should be embarrassed by the way you practically fling yourself into his arms, burying your face in his chest as your hands form fists in his t-shirt. He’s a little startled by your borderline violent reaction, but he recovers quickly, arms encircling your body and pulling you against him.

“It’s okay,” he says softly, one hand rubbing your back while the other pets your hair. “Hey, it’s alright, I’m here,”

And you hate the way his words almost directly mirror Touya’s, the way his low sultry voice turned gentle and soft as he carded deft fingers through your hair echoing almost painfully in your head. But Keigo lets you cry, lets you stain his t-shirt with salty tears and saliva until you’ve got nothing left, never stopping his compassionate motions.

“You…Stayed the night?” you pull back a little, the fact that he’s still here, blonde hair all mussed up from sleep, finally dawning on you.

“Well, yeah,” he says, a little bashful as he looks away and ducks his head. “Wanted to make sure you were alright, s’all. Last night was…” he trails off, frowning. “What happened?”

Golden eyes search your face, his forehead crinkling in concern. A beat of silence passes.

“I mean, you don’t have to tell me, but…” kind fingers move to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’ll feel better if you let it out, promise. And, not to brag or anything, but I’m preee-tty good at this kind’a stuff,” he chuckles a little.

“Got in a fight,” you whisper, eyes staring intently at the brick wall behind his shoulder as your chin trembles slightly, memories of last night flashing through your mind.

“A fight? With Touya?” Keigo moves his head a little, forcing his face into your field of vision and catching your face with tender fingers when you try to look away.

“Yeah,” tears are beginning to well up in your eyes as you think about it, the sheer fact that you’re in a fight making your heart feel like it’s ripping itself to shreds. A chaotic storm of emotions brews in your chest, switching mercilessly and swirling together so quickly that you can’t even tell what they are. Your insides feel all jumbled up, and trying to decipher what the heck’s going on only makes your head ache more.

They torment you, a deep sense of anguish finally settling at the core. You’re confused, livid at Touya for being such a jackass; jealous, because you want him all to yourself; heartbroken, because you want—need—his approval, desperate to hear him tell you that you’re his good little baby girl.

You want to be his good little baby girl.

But it isn’t fair. Life isn’t fair, sweetheart. Get used to it, he had told you once, when you had complained about something so silly, so simple as him eating the last ice cream cookie sandwich (he made it up to you, of course, telling you he wanted to taste your cream—such a cheeseball—and making you cum three times before taking you out to buy more).

No, it isn’t fair, but you don’t care. You want him to be yours, too.

Keigo tsks, bringing your attention back to him, mouth set in a hard line as sad eyes watch you. “What was it about?”

“I-It…H-He—” a shuddery breath cuts you off, and Keigo draws you into his arms, holding you against his chest as the sobs start up again, sobs that make it feel like your body’s about to tear apart, desperately clutching Keigo to try and keep yourself together.

“Oh, songbird,” he coos, rocking you gently. “Is it…Um, the other girls?”

“Yes,”

“But you know you’re his favourite, right?”

“D-Does it even matter, if he’s still fucking them anyway?” you ask, pulling back suddenly as hot anger flashes through you. “Why does he need them? Am I—” a sob cuts you off, but you swallow it, persevering. “Am I not good enough?” your voice breaks on the last word, fading into a whisper, big teary eyes scanning his face almost frantically, seeking an answer in his expression.

Keigo blinks, surprised by your sudden brashness, then gives you a small, sad smile. “Only he can answer that, sugarplum,” he whispers, using the pad of his thumb to catch a stray tear and wipe it across your cheekbone. “But just because he’s fucking around, doesn’t mean that you can’t, too,”

Your head tilts to the side, brow furrowing. “What do you mean?”

“Give him a taste of his own medicine,” Keigo shrugs, leaning back a little. “He definitely deserves it, for making an angel such as yourself so upset,”

You sniffle a little, wiping at your nose with the paw of your sweater as you consider the prospect.

“Y’know, it technically isn’t cheating, since you guys aren’t in any sort of official relationship to begin with,” Keigo reminds you gently, nudging just a tiny bit more.

It isn’t right—you know it isn’t. You’ve never been one to fight fire with fire, often preferring to avoid conflict and drama, but you’re so hurt; you’re so angry at him—angry at the way he reacted, as if it was you in the wrong, angry at the fact that he doesn’t even seen to care about your feelings on the issue, because he knows you’ll come running back either way, angry because he’s right, as evident in the way pathetically clung to him last night—that all you want to do in that moment is cause him a shred of the pain he’s causing you.

It’s an impulsive decision that has you pulling out your phone, quickly scrolling through your contacts, thumb jabbing at Tomura’s name—Touya had given you his number for emergencies only—before you have time to think it through, before you have time to regret it.

Tiny thumbs fly across the keyboard, your heart pounding in your chest as adrenaline accelerates your breathing.

Hey. Let’s hang out.

Keigo inhales through his teeth next to you, and your eyes dart to him in surprise, as if you had forgotten he was there.

“Well,” he begins, though his voice sounds odd to you—unlike his usually nonchalant, happy-go-lucky manner. “That’s, uh, definitely one that’s gonna hurt him, songbird,”

You look back down at your phone to see Tomura typing a response.

Yeah, definitely. Pick a day.

“Good.”

[bibbawrites]

But This Love Is Ours - 90s!Luke Patterson x Reader

Request: none, written for @screwunsaidemily's birthday fic thing

Word Count: 906 words

Warnings: swearing, light sexual references

Prompts chosen: - setting: Waterpark - 16) "You're so dumb." "You love me." - 17) "Kiss me again. Please?" - 36) "You think our friends will be mad if we just get married right now?"

A/N: why am i incapable of writing sunset curve without making boggie a thing smh also this is so dumb but i kinda love it lol

Tag List: @happinessinthedarkesttimes @molinaroberts @joynersgoatblog @courageous-she @littlemissaddict @gloomybrieyxb @itsyagorlemmalyn @jatpxmultifan @moneybagmgk @emeliii1 @mybradforddream  (the strike through means it wont let me tag you)  

The good thing about Bobby and Alex both having their drivers license was that, on days like today where it was so hot you all wanted to die, you could hop in the car and go somewhere cooler.

Which today, by request of Reggie, was a waterpark about an hour away from home.

You were just shoving the last of your things into your bag when a horn sounded from outside and you rushed down the stairs.

"I'm going out with the boys." You called to your mother as you ran through the kitchen.

"Okay, have fun." She called back as you reached the front door, throwing it open to find your four best friends, crammed into Alex's tiny pink hatchback, a car that he had saved every penny for, and had saved extra to have Bobby's cousin paint the car in his signature pastel pink (much to the disgust of his bandmates).

You headed down your driveway, climbing into the passengers seat. It was an official rule in Alex's car that if you were in the car, the boys had to be in the backseat.

"Good morning boys!" You greeted cheerfully. The three boys in the back seat mumbled in response. You snuck a glance at Luke, the boy who you had been crushing on for as long as you could remember, giggling slightly when you noticed he had been put in the middle seat, presumably due to his size.

"How are you so fucking cheery at this time of the morning?" Bobby grumbled, his head pressed against the window.

"It's 10am." You replied, shaking your head before turning to Alex, who gave you a bright smile.

"Ready to be my navigator?" He questioned, holding out a map. You grinned, taking the map from the blond boy.

"Let's get this show on the road."

-

It was a few hours later when you finally found yourself alone with Luke, in line for the largest waterslide. Alex had decided to take a nap in the sun, and Reggie and Bobby had disappeared, presumably to go make out somewhere hidden, which is how you and Luke ended up silently standing together near the top of the slide, both trying to figure out the perfect thing to say to get the conversation started.

"You think our friends will be mad if we just get married right now?" Luke asked randomly. You glanced at him, confusion clearly covering your face.

"Sorry?" You questioned.

"Just figured this would be a cool place to get married." He shrugged.

"In the line for a waterslide?" Your tone was thick with confusion, causing Luke to grin.

"Yeah why not? It's unexpected and adventurous, and the waterpark would probably give us free entry for life." He joked, and you rolled your eyes. What did you see in this boy?

"You're so dumb." You sighed playfully, shaking your head. Luke smiled, and your heart melted.

"You love me." He replied, and you bit your lip. If only he knew how true that statement was.

"Unfortunately." You joked, feigning annoyance. Luke gasped, acting hurt.

"Ouch, maybe I should go hang out with Bobby and Reggie instead of you. At least they appreciate me." He turned, as if he was considering leaving the line to head back down the stairs and find his bandmates.

"Unless you're looking for a threesome I wouldn't recommend that." You said, and the woman in front of you in line made a noise in disgust. Luke laughed loudly.

"Yeah you're probably right. And Alex would kill me if I interrupted his nap, so looks like I'm stuck with you."

"Not for long." You told him, noticing the end of the line just ahead of you.

"Oh good. There's still time to get in on the Bobby and Reggie deal." Luke smirked and you hit his arm playfully.

"You couldn't handle having sex with Bobby and Reggie. They'd tear you apart." You teased.

"Kinky." He winked, as the woman in front of you climbed into her tube with one last glare at the both of you.

After a moment of waiting the attendant called you forward, taking the two person tube from Luke and placing it into the ride. You stood in front of the tube, waiting for Luke to sit before settling in between his legs and grabbing onto the hand holds as the tube began to move.

Luke's legs squeezed tightly around you, and you almost wished you could stay there forever as you sped through the tunnels, but of course the ride had to end and before you knew it the both of you were heading back to where you'd last seen your friends.

"Can I ask you something?" Luke asked suddenly, and you stopped, turning to face him.

"Anything Luke, you know that." You said with a grin. He bit his lip.

"If I kissed you what would you do?" He questioned softly. You didn't reply, instead taking a step closer and connecting his lips with yours. His lips tasted like chlorine, and his hair was dripping onto your face, but you couldn't care less.

You were kissing Luke Patterson.

After a moment you pulled away, giving him a shy smile.

"Does that answer your question?" You asked, and he smiled widely.

"Kiss me again. Please?" He said softly, and you grinned, crashing your lips against his again.

Your friends could wait. You had something much more important to do.

[nicknellie]

Anonymous requested: willex and one of them confesses their feelings to the other while sleeping

So I wasn’t 100% sure if I’d understood this right and I had two directions I could go, either of which would have been good, so I did the Right Thing and included both versions of how I interpreted this. It’s a little short, but I love it. I got a random burst of inspiration for it in the middle of a maths exam yesterday so that was fun, and this is what came out of it. Thank you for the prompt!

No Going Back

If there was one thing Alex had become certain of in all the time he’d known Willie, it was that the guy didn’t get nearly enough sleep.

At first Willie’s constant state of being so exhausted that he was hyper had been endearing. Alex had looked forward to receiving that inevitable ‘are you awake?’ text in the darkest hours of every night, thrilled that he was on Willie’s mind, anxious to have a late-night deep conversation or for Willie to show up at his house and whisk him away on a midnight adventure. He had loved the spontaneity that Willie displayed, a by-product of his insomnia that rendered him incapable of figuring out when something was a bad idea – though Alex was still bitter about that time they’d nearly been arrested for breaking into a skatepark after dark, something Willie had sworn was perfectly legal.

He still loved all that about Willie, it wasn’t something he could ever stop loving. Willie was like that – once you loved him there was no going back. But over time Alex had started to worry, as he was wont to do, about how little sleep Willie was getting.

“Did you sleep at all last night?” Alex asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” Willie said, not looking up from what he was doing. “What makes you think I didn’t?”

“Nothing,” Alex replied, “just the fact that you’re still wearing the same clothes as last night and there’s a marble run spanning the length of your apartment that definitely wasn’t there yesterday.”

It was mid-morning and Alex was stood in the doorway of Willie’s apartment, peering in through the door at what could only be described as chaos. Willie was stood in the centre of the living room, fiddling with a section of the marble run, his tongue poking out in concentration. All around him, the marble run twisted through the apartment, an explosion of plastic in colours that clashed painfully alongside each other. By the looks of it, the run started atop a light fixture, wound its way through the kitchen (including going inside the fridge and back out again), tracked into Willie’s bedroom, linked back around into the living room, and ended in the perfect position to hit the TV remote’s power button.

It was very obvious to Alex that Willie had spent the whole night trying to find the most complicated way of turning his TV on – getting him to admit it would be the difficult thing.

Willie looked around the apartment, eyes wide as if he was only seeing the marble run for the first time now. He looked utterly bewildered, stumped by his own creative genius.

“Oh,” he said simply. “Yeah, well, I did sleep for a bit. And I also made this. A guy can do two things.”

Alex stepped cautiously into the apartment, shutting the door behind him, being careful not to tread on the marbles that littered the floor. Willie quickly got back to tinkering with his marble run, trying to secure two bits of track together. He was stood on a coffee table up on his tip-toes – Alex moved instinctively behind him to catch him in case he fell.

“Did you really sleep?” he pressed.

“Yes,” Willie insisted. “For, like, an hour maybe. I woke up at about half one.”

Alex checked his watch and felt his jaw go slack in shock. “You’ve been building a marble run for eight hours?”

Although he probably didn’t need to, Willie held onto Alex’s outstretched hands as he lowered himself slowly down from the coffee table. He didn’t let go once he was down, leaving one hand gently slipped into Alex’s. Alex felt his heart beat that little bit faster but ignored the feeling in favour of continuing to worry about Willie’s godawful sleeping habits.

“Not the full eight hours,” Willie told him dismissively. “Probably more like five? I built a domino chain first, and then I had to clear it all up.”

He pointed to a box in the corner of the room that was being used to prop up a good chunk of the marble run and appeared to be filled with an ungodly amount of dominoes. He was smiling triumphantly as if setting up dominoes all night was any different to setting up a marble run.

“You say that like it makes this better, but you’ve still only had one hour’s sleep,” Alex reminded him as Willie tried and failed to stifle a yawn. “I think it’d be a good idea if you got some rest now.”

Willie shook his head. “I’ll be fine, hotdog. One hour is more than enough sleep, I usually get less.”

“That’s not something to be proud of.”

Willie just shrugged, but he wasn’t fooling Alex. In recent weeks, Alex had noticed that Willie’s lack of sleep really seemed to be getting to him. He was sleeping less and less, running on energy drinks and sugar highs, spending his time doing nonsensical things like building colossal marble runs all night instead of at least lying in bed. And Willie was pretending that he was fine, carrying on like it was nothing, but there was something in his eyes that told Alex he was struggling with it more than he would let on.

But now, Willie’s face broke into an excited grin and he squeezed Alex’s hand. “Do you want to test it out?”

In his head, Alex knew he should have insisted that Willie just try and take a nap instead, but he would have been lying if he said he didn’t want to see the end result (after all, there were some loop-the-loops in there and he was quietly curious to see if they’d actually work). So he nodded reluctantly and let Willie pull him to the kitchen where he hoisted himself onto the counter and plonked a marble in the start of the tube.

They watched in awe as the little blue marble rolled its way through all the tubes, flipping around the loops, gathering speed in tight spirals. It was oddly mesmerising and Alex was so caught up in watching it that he forgot he was supposed to be a little annoyed that Willie had made it instead of getting some well-deserved rest.

It was going well, the marble run holding out sturdily, but Alex noticed Willie tense as the marble neared the section he’d been fiddling with when Alex walked in. As the marble ran over that bit of track, there was a catastrophic crash and the entire marble run collapsed around them, raining bits of rainbow-coloured plastic down around the apartment like an avalanche. Alex had covered his head and closed his eyes instinctively, but when he opened them he saw that every inch of the floor was carpeted in bits of marble run and crushed dreams.

The marble dropped to the floor with a pathetic clack, the icing on the cake.

Alex turned to Willie, who was still stood atop the kitchen counter, staring at the wreckage with a completely blank expression. He reached his hand up to hold Willie’s and got nothing in response.

“Willie?” he prompted softly.

“I hate everything,” Willie sighed.

He hopped down from the counter and began trying to pick up bits of the marble run to clear it away. Alex could hardly believe how much of it there was when it wasn’t all stacked together – he couldn’t help but admire Willie for putting it all together, but it was overshadowed by the pity he felt now that it had failed.

Gently, he placed a hand on Willie’s shoulder. Willie instantly broke, his shoulders sagging and his head hanging defeatedly. The bit of track he was holding clattered to the floor.

“You take a nap,” Alex said. He wasn’t asking anymore, he was telling, and truth be told Willie looked like he was ready to fall asleep on his feet. “I’ll pack this away.”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” Willie said, rubbing at his eyes exhaustedly.

“You’re not asking me, I’m offering. Go on, you need to rest.”

There was a short pause while Willie looked at Alex, something indescribable in his teary eyes. He broke it to say, in a tired voice not quite like his own, “Will you come and stay with me when you’re done?”

Alex smiled softly. “If you want me to then of course I will.”

Willie nodded, eyes already drooping closed, and made his way to his bedroom incredibly slowly as he tried to avoid stepping on any bits of the marble run. Alex began packing it away, and he could hear Willie’s soft snores within minutes.

He spent at least two hours tidying away all the pieces, mainly because for most of that time he was arranging them by size and colour and trying to get them all to fit perfectly in the large container Willie had labelled ‘MARBLES :)’. Eventually though, when the apartment was clear, the final marble plonked into the box, Alex carefully pushed open the door to Willie’s bedroom.

Willie was tucked in underneath the covers, warm and snug, snoring soundly. It appeared he still hadn’t got changed out of yesterday’s clothes, but at least he was finally getting some rest. Alex crouched down by the side of his bed and placed his hand next to Willie’s where it was thrown out exhaustedly across the mattress.

People often thought Alex and Willie were dating, told them they were such a lovely couple, asked about how long they had been together. And every time they would laugh it off, correct whoever had said it, no harm done. But Alex wished that just once he could reply in a very different way, thank them for the compliment, tell them he and Willie had been together for six months or a year or five. Sometimes he suspected that Willie wanted it too – like when he held his hand, or giggled at Alex’s dumb jokes, or smiled in a way that seemed like it was just for him.

But he couldn’t bring himself to ask.

He thought about it now, how if he had been Willie’s boyfriend he could have held him as he slept, run his fingers through his hair, pressed kisses to his forehead until he dozed off. It was probably wishful thinking, but he wondered if he could have helped simply by being Willie’s boyfriend. (He knew the problem ran deeper than that, but he could hope.)

Willie shuffled a bit in his sleep and his hand came to rest atop Alex’s. He felt his breath stutter and hitch in his throat.

“I hope you can’t hear me,” Alex said quietly before he even knew he was going to say anything, “because all I want to tell you right now is that I love you. And I don’t know if that’s what you want to hear. But it’s true – I love you, Willie, and I’m always going to be right here when you need me.”

There was the briefest moment of silence in which neither of them moved and all Alex could hear was the thumping of his own heart. He couldn’t tell if Willie was fully asleep, and he wasn’t certain if he wanted that or not. He wanted Willie to know how he felt, he just didn’t want to tell him.

But after that moment, Willie’s hand clutched weakly at Alex’s, and he breathed, “I love you too.”

It was so quiet Alex thought he might have imagined it. He blinked, leaned a little closer as if Willie might say it again, but he was already back to sleep. Alex wanted to shake him awake, tell him again, make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

He didn’t though. That conversation could wait until Willie was awake. Instead, Alex sat himself down on the floor next to the bed, hand still in Willie’s, head resting against the mattress, and let Willie finally get the sleep he so deserved.

*

Taglist (if you want to be added or removed just let me know): @ace-bookworm @williexmercer @willex-owns-my-heart @itstiger720 @the-reckless-and-the-brave @that-one-newsie @bluedarkness @lookingthroughmirrors @teammightypen @salty-star @julieandthequeers @lmaohuh 

[the-s1lly-corner]

Sleepover w/ the digital circus cast

been a while since ive written this style of post for tadc, but im on my computer again so hopefully writing so much wont be too grating! reminder that i do not currently take requests for the entire cast in one post-

notes: reader is gn, not really romantic, written with the idea that everyone is having a sleepover in the main area of the circus

cws: bugs

caine

does not sleep but he wants to feel included, hes the one providing the games and activities for the night, as well as bedding for everyone to use

pretends to sleep, probably totally incapable of sleeping unlike the circus members... fake snores to try to sell it and make it convincing but all it does is it keeps everyone else awake

the games mentioned are usually an exaggerated and insane version of them- truth or dare but if you lie or refuse a dare you were given you get locked in the cellar/j

oh he definitely would try to get some juicy conversation with you or another circus member- god forbid you show some small sign that youre crushing on someone, hes not going to leave you alone

even worse if he finds out you actually do and who it is

his version of spin the bottle might get a little insane, knowing him.. definitely rigs it lands on whoever you like

pomni

not very interested, but if this takes place post episode 2 shes more inclined to join everyone for the night to get to know everyone better

if you two have grown close she sticks with you during the insane games caine has set out

completely opts out of any games that look way too intense but she probably gets roped into it by some of the others- or simply being swept into the chaos

sleeps off to the corner a bit away from everyone else so she can at least try to get a good nights sleep

if SOMEONE (jax, or even caine) gets too overwhelming or annoying she just gets up and goes to her room... you might be able to coax her back out

ragatha

as mentioned in jax's section, she offers to let you lay next to her if jax is bothering you

if you ask her, she does your hair before you go to bed. brushing through it and if its long enough she ties/braids it up for you

if you have a sleep set- unlikely given that they cant take their clothes off but we can pretend caine snapped his fingers and changed everyones clothing or something- she compliments how it looks.. if its cute or if it looks comfortable

if youre still awake and open to it she talks to you quietly when she cant sleep, its actually a nice change of pace against the chaos of when everyone else was awake

you dont talk about much, you just check in on each other and ramble about nothing in specific... keep it down or caine will come on over and try to insert himself

jax

hes the reason the cw is here, hes going to put bugs in your blankets if you guys arent sharing his room. if the two of you are in your room, or if you guys are in the common area hes going to do it.. or put something else thats unpleasant there..

thinks its funny, knowing him he might actually laugh a little off to the side as you thrash your sleeping bag around

snack hoarder, especially if theres candy- good luck trying to get more than a handful from him, hes not much of a sharer

tries to play everything off when someone offers to let you come lay down next to them for the night- likely ragatha

tells the most grotequse and horrifying stories before everyone else goes to sleep

"first person game mcs dont blink" is said as everyone is trying to unwind or something along those lines

kinger

has the softest and comfiest pillows and blankets, from his fort of course! likely sleeps in it rather than out and exposed on the floor with everyone else

makes it a little larger so you can crawl inside with him- its a lot calmer in here than anything thats happening out there

small talk, you both talk about your interests though due to kingers nature the conversation bounces around a lot

he doesnt participate in the games for the most part, especially if its after a high energy adventure... hes a little drained after the day- physically and mentally

sleeps with at least an arms length of space between the two of you unless you tell him youre comfortable with him being closer

dad snores

zooble

not very interested, probably stays in their room for most of the night if not the entire night

if theyre around when jax is telling scary stories they just roll their eyes... theyve heard worse

zooble being a horror/disturbing media fan headcanon my beloved, they probably try to one up him... though theyre not taking it very seriously. theyre not all that interested in winning, but jax is and hes going to get annoying

if they go out and interact with everyone else, theyll go to their room when theyre ready to sleep. they dont want to sleep on the floor in some sleeping bag.. offers to walk you to your room if the horror talk got to you

gangle

sits in her own corner doing her own thing, you can convince her to join in on the more tame games if you promise to stick with her

sticks around with you after that but like... lingering to the side, not really glued to your side because she doesnt want to invade your personal space or make you feel uncomfortable

very quiet if you offer to let her lay down next to her in the night

its a little less awkward if her comedy mask isnt broken but knowing how fragile it is, its unlikely

refuses to participate in any games like 2 truths 1 lie or truth or dare- she just knows jax is going to hang whatever she says over her head even if hes not the one asking her questions

[normal-thoughts-official]

With a little help from your friends (the help is praise kink and the friend is your boyfriend)

Who would have thought that fucking your boyfriend senseless cures dysphoria.

Alternatively: being a dom is actually something that can be so gender,

Fandom: It Lives (Visual Novels)

Pairing: Andy Kang/Tom Sato

Additional tags: let's see, mild mentions of transphobic and racist comments, Comfort Sex, the filthiest comfort sex uve ever seen but WHATEVER, dom andy kang, sub tom sato, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Dom/sub Play, Collars, Praise Kink, basically someone says transphobic shit and then tom rides him and talks about how wonderful andy is, except tom has also been in denial for a few days and he's super horny, and andy gets in domspace and everything is great and nothing hurts, Fluff and Smut, Humor, cuz u know these two are incapable of taking anything too seriously, Established Relationship, oh they're both in college and they go to the same college cuz i said so, set after the events of it lives beneath, that's it I think, trans author if that matters to you

Read it on Ao3

Andy isn't having a great day. It's not a terrible, clawing-at-his-chest-trying-to-deal-with-dysphoria kind of day, but he's been trying out this "not comparing everything to the worst possible scenario" thing his therapist has been talking about, so still, not a great day.

The thing is, he thought college would be easier. And it is, in a lot of ways. For starters, there is no evil monster spectre trying to kill him, which gives college at least 5 points over high school. And his uni has a pretty solid queer club, so he knows other trans people there. Some of them are even non-white. Some of them he even actually, truly likes. And most of the time, he feels like he has a place to turn to, and people to support him. He's not alone. He has people who get him. And that makes all the difference.

But basketball is still a nightmare, and his knee still hurts when it's cold, and winter is officially starting now.

People still hesitate to pass the ball to him, and it's frustrating, because Andy fought so hard to earn his old team's trust and now he's back at square zero. And well, Andy has been gaining this team's trust, because he's good, goddamn it, and his team owes at least the last three victories to him. He's not hesitant to say that, especially because otherwise no one will. And he can see that they look at him differently now - nod at him in the hallways, at least, talk to him in the locker room, pass him the fucking ball if his position is very, very open.

But if he weren't trans and Asian, he wouldn't have had to work so hard to get all of that - or well, just that, really. He has a full sports scholarship despite the fact that he had a broken leg, had to retake his last year of high school, and doesn't even have the body type for basketball. If he weren't Asian, if he weren't trans, his team would have assumed his greatness from day one. Instead, he has to show it to them time and time again only to get them to reluctantly admit maybe he's not bad. No one calls him "triple threat" anymore, but he still has to work three times harder than anyone else, and it's frustrating.

And usually Andy can deal with it, but right now his knee hurts, and he can't afford that because he'll lose everything he's worked for if his teammates know that his fucking knee hurts. So, he braved training and then he got the fuck out of there without even changing so no one would see him wince. Which means he's still in basketball shorts, which are short, in the cold, which means his leg hurts more.

At times like these, he's thankful he never got the chance to go through with his promise to break his other leg kicking Noah's ass. Because he would have, and then both his legs would be hurting right now, and two legs that hurt every time it's cold is just too many legs.

No comparing to the worst possible scenario, he tells himself. Therapy is so hard. If he had known there would be homework, he would have thought twice about going.

And that's, apparently, the cue for his phone to go off. Andy smiles, knowing who it is even before he opens the message, because only one person messages him during class, and it's the only person he wants to hear from right now.

Tom <3 sent you a message

Grinning like a fool, he opens it.

Tom <3: dude, im horny af rn. the fuck

Finally, good news, Andy thinks, smiling. Then he remembers why Tom is so horny, and suddenly this day is great, actually.

He quickly types a reply.

You: who wouldve thought that 3 days of denial would make this happen

Tom <3: ill have u kno i was very good at holding it together before today

You: yeah, dw. soon u wont have to hold it anymore ;)

Tom <3: that flirt was terrible, dude

You: said the guy whos calling me dude for the second time in this conversation

Tom <3: what else should i call u? 😩

Andy thinks for a second. Tom and him do longer-term denial every once in a while, but they aren't in a 24/7 relationship. Does Andy really want to go there right now? Yes. Well, that was fast. Okay then.

You: how about "sir"

Tom's reply comes fast as lightning.

Tom <3: Yes, Sir.

Andy smirks at himself.

You: uve been hoping that id say that, havent u?

Tom types for just a little longer this time.

Tom <3: Yes, Sir.

----

Many things are wrong with the world, and Andy doesn't mean to make light of the other things, but the fact that Andy can't simply go and fuck his boyfriend whenever he wants is definitely one of them. It should be, like, financial compensation or something. We're so sorry the school environment is transphobic, here, have a free sex pass. Sounds fair to him. But instead, he still has two hours of classes to go through, and Andy is a better guy than he wishes he was, so he tells Tom to pay attention to class instead of sexting him, because he doesn't want Tom to struggle even more with his course when he had already had to leave it once. God damn true love or whatever.

The point is, by the time classes are finally over, his day is back to not being that great; he's tired, and his leg hurts. He gets to their car after Tom does, and Tom takes one look at him, and says, "I'm driving".

Andy crosses his arms. "Why?"

"Because your leg hurts," Tom answers, rolling his eyes and taking Andy's bag from him and putting it in the trunk.

Andy looks down at his legs. He wasn't limping. There aren't any bruises. How the hell-

"It's cold and you're in shorts. I'm not an idiot, dude."

Right. Yeah. Right. Of course. Tom knows. It's… It's alright.

"Bad day at training?" Tom asks, slowly, sympathetically, and Andy feels himself settle in his skin a little bit.

"The usual," he answers, getting inside, and, as always, Tom gets the hint.

---

Their uni's dorms are gender-segregated because these guys have still not gotten the memo that people of the same gender fuck; and Andy wasn't willing to deal with cis college guys' bullshit, much less cis college girls' bullshit; and the uni wouldn't let him simply pick Tom as his roommate. So, they rented out a beat up apartment right next to it instead. It took a little longer to get there, but it wasn't a lot longer, and well, it was worth it.

Tom gets inside, still carrying Andy's bag because he's transphobic and unfair and had taken it and bolted up running so Andy wouldn't have a chance to argue with him. And Andy can't run after him with his leg hurting, which kind of proves Tom's point that he should carry Andy's bag. All in all, Tom is the worst, and he turns up the heat as soon as he gets inside and sits Andy down on the bed, kneeling in front of him to take a look at Andy's knee.

He's silent for a while, massaging his knee until Andy sighs and throws his head back, before Tom plants a little kiss on his knee and looks up at him. Andy's knee always stops hurting when Tom kisses it better. It's a little embarrassing, if Andy is being honest, but still- nice. Really nice.

They stay for a little longer like this, Tom humming and massaging his knee and Andy not meeting his eyes, until the question inevitably comes.

"What happened?" Tom asks, not letting up with the smooth movements of his hands, his eyes big and sincere with worry.

"Nothing. Just the cold. You know how my knee gets."

"I meant, for you to leave practice without putting some warmer clothes on."

Andy looks away. "It was nothing."

"Dude, are you expecting me to go, 'okay, yeah, that totally makes sense and I believe you', or…?"

Andy laughs, despite himself, and throws his good leg up in an almost-kick to pretend he's retaliating. "Don't be an ass."

"I'm not. Come on, Andy. You know you can tell me."

"It's nothing, it's just- Kyle-"

"Oh boy."

Andy laughs. "Yeah." But then he grows serious, "the thing is, he doesn't mean any harm, you know? I know he's not saying it to hurt me, and so that just means that, like... that it's true."

Tom's hands stop their movements, rubbing soothing circles around his knee instead. "What did he say?"

Andy doesn't look at him. "He asked me why I didn't stay on the women's team. Said that I could have an advantage, cuz Asian people are androgynous anyway, so no one would notice that I was taking hormones."

Tom just stares at him in shock for a moment.

"And I was like, 'dude, I've been on T for three years, I'm pretty sure they would notice the changes'. And he was like, 'yeah, but you still look like a lot of Asian girls with short hair, you could write it off if you wanted', and I just…" He trails off.

Tom waits in silence for a second, seeing if Andy finds his words, before asking, "Is Kyle, like, okay?"

Andy scoffs. "I didn't try and fight him, if that's what you're asking."

"No, I mean, does this dude have a screw loose or something?"

"He's very bad at figuring out what is or isn't offensive, yeah, but it's not like he really cares, he just won't go out of his way to antagonize me."

"No, I just- Andy, even when you were a little kid with huge pigtails, anyone would have to be crazy to see you as a girl."

Andy bites the inside of his lip. "You're just saying that."

"I'm not. It's just wrong, man. It was so obvious that it was wrong. Anyone could tell. There's nothing about you that says 'girl' to anyone who's looking."

Andy sighs, finally risking looking at Tom's eyes. There's overwhelming sincerity there, and Andy instinctively looks away. "I guess. Maybe. I don't know. It just got me thinking... Maybe T didn't change anything. Maybe I look exactly the same, maybe it was just hopeful thinking that had me thinking it would change anything, maybe it's just- pointless to even try-"

"No, no, come on," Tom says, and the interruption is so sudden it makes Andy look at him again, just in time to see Tom shaking his head vigorously. "There's no way you believe that. What about this bad boy over here?" He smiles, reaching out softly to caress Andy's neck. "You have more of an Adam's Apple than me, dude. And we both know you don't need T to be a guy, but thinking it made no difference is just crazy and you know it. What about those dry pecs? These broad shoulders of yours? Your voice, I mean, come on. You even smell different, man. How can it be pointless, if even your scent is different?"

Andy looks to the side again, but he can feel himself smile. "Well, when you put it like that..."

Tom gets up, but stays close, putting his hand on Andy's cheek, slowly, as if testing the waters, before turning him slightly to look at him. "Andy. Kyle is an idiot and a transphobic racist who's too damn lazy to realize how fucked up he is. And you shouldn't have to deal with that, and I'm sorry, and I will set him on fire."

Andy laughs. "You can't keep threatening to set every shitty teammate I have on fire."

"I can, because it keeps making you laugh," Tom says, smiling. Well. Andy can't argue with that. "My point is, you wouldn't listen to a word this dude says if it were about anyone else, so don't listen to him when he talks about you, okay? T or no T, you're no girl, and you don't look like a girl, and regardless of whether or not Kyle's dumb ass noticed it, your transition has been doing you good. Remember when your voice started to crack and get all weird? I've never seen anyone be that happy about it."

Andy laughs. "It was pretty awful."

"No, it was great, 'cause you loved it. Do you want me to pull out the 'before' pictures we took in case this happened? Look at yourself, dude. You fit so much better in your own skin, you know? And like, you've always been gorgeous, but-"

"Come here," Andy interrupts, pulling him down because Tom is standing and Andy is sitting and Andy is already height-challenged. And Tom goes willingly, carefully straddling Andy's lap and meeting him in a kiss. Finally, Andy thinks.

Tom kisses him softly, slowly, one hand resting on the back of Andy's head and the other draped lazily over his shoulder, as he usually does, all gentle and a little hesitant, and Andy is having none of that. So he grabs Tom's hair and deepens the kiss, bringing him closer until their chests are flushed together and he can feel Tom's hips mindlessly making little circles against Andy's belly.

They separate - or well, stop kissing, really, because Tom is still as close to Andy as physically possible, and Andy feels about ready to shoot anyone who tries to push him further away. Tom's a little breathless, and his hips are still making these almost imperceptible movements against Andy, and Andy realizes that he's still grabbing Tom's hair and that he's a little breathless, too.

Tom looks down at him for a second, as if debating something with himself, before saying, "and like, not to be horny during a serious moment, but since we're talking about the effects of T... Andy. Andy. Your clit. Fuck. It's so huge now, and it's got a visible head and you can fuck my face and everything, and I could sing it praises for a week and probably will if you don't stop me right now."

"Hmm, but I like it when you sing me praises," he smiles. "Keep going."

"God, I was hoping you'd say that. Do you have any idea how much I've been thinking about it today? I didn't hear a single word anyone said to me, all I could think about was you fucking my face, pulling my hair, making me worship you and beg to be allowed to suck you off, I wanna serve you like you're my God." Tom's hips start to jerk up, more visibly this time, shameless, and see, this is why Andy's been really, really liking this whole denial thing - Tom has only started to explore his subby side recently, a little ashamed of it to admit it to anyone, even himself. But when he's horny enough, he gets shameless and desperate about what he wants, and god, nothing is more beautiful than Tom when he asks for what he wants. He feels something growing inside of him, not sure if it's warmth or heat, but seeing Tom like that, wanting him, needing him, definitely makes him feel so much better.

"Yeah?" Andy asks, tracing a finger over Tom's shoulder, close to his neck, just to give him goosebumps.

"Fuck yes, I want it so bad, and you deserve it too, Andy… Sir. You're the best Sir I could ask for, I just want… Want you to use me, want you to cum on me, want to kiss you all over and worship you and pleasure you, you're so gorgeous..." He hides his face in Andy's shoulder for a bit, but his hips don't stop moving. He whines, "Andy..."

"Address me properly," Andy snaps, feeling the edges of worry clear from his mind and giving way to that wonderful feeling of clear-mindedness, of power, where nothing matters but his own pleasure. "And maybe I'll give you what you want, if you earn it."

Tom nods, hips full on thrusting now, and Andy snaps again. "Stay still."

And he does, immediately, without question, biting his lip and keeping his eyes shut with effort. Andy can feel his thighs clenching and spasming over his, trying to keep himself from moving, trying to be good. He hums in appreciation, but doesn't praise him for it, not yet.

"I'll get you ready," Andy explains, before reaching to Tom's hair, and starts to undo his bun, as slow as possible, just to watch him squirm. He gets so impatient when Andy undresses him, which is why Andy never misses a chance to drag it out.

He begins by removing Tom's jacket, sliding his hands slowly over his shoulders, then down his back, feeling the firm muscle there, digging his nails just a little bit so he can see Tom's eyes flutter in bliss. When the jacket falls to the floor, Andy begins circling the hem of his shirt, sliding until his hands are back on front, fingers just close enough to Tom's cock for him to feel Tom tense in his hands, so damn sensitive to his touch, so needy. God, he can't get enough of this, but he pretends that he doesn't notice, lets Tom try and keep himself together as Andy's hands slide over his belly, then chest, over the shirt, collarbone, wrapping and resting on Tom's throat just so he feels the threat of it, before Andy finally grabs the back of the shirt's collar and tugs, taking it off. Then he slides his hands back down, making sure to run a finger just over the sensitive spot where his pecs end, then lower, over his ribcage, belly, hips, next to the bruises where Andy had grabbed him the night before, then back to the middle, just over the bulge in his pants, and Tom finally breaks and jerks up slightly, letting out a little moan.

"Sir," he whines, "please, please, I-" Andy continues to circle the head of his cock with his finger, "please!"

"Patience," is all he says, before going back to his painfully light movements, imagining Tom's needy cock twitching under his fingers, imagining the effort Tom makes not to thrust up or keep begging for more, just because Andy told him not to. "You know how much I like playing with your pretty little cock. You said you wanted to serve me, didn't you?"

"Yes- yes, Sir."

He hums, noncommittally, not looking at him. "Good." He teases the tip of his clothed cock some more, enjoying the way his mind zeroes on that, the way he feels like he has all the power and the time in the world. Finally, he pats Tom's thigh once. "Get off, and take off the rest of your clothes. Get the lube and a condom."

Tom gets up, a little shaky, and does as instructed, while Andy reaches down to the drawer under the bed where he keeps his dick's spine and a few of their toys. He gets the spine, then adjusts his packer briefs so he can put it on - best purchase of his life, really, those briefs. So much easier to use than a regular strap-on and it makes the packer sit over his clit just right, making a little suction and pressure. Andy couldn't be happier that he was already wearing them.

Tom gets back with everything he asked right in time for Andy to finish making his dick hard, and goes on to put the condom on and cover Andy's cock in lube with the kind of attention that makes Andy hold his breath. Tom's so careful, yet eager, and adoring, about it. Andy feels like the hottest guy in the world.

Once he gets permission, Tom sits on his cock, slowly, getting adjusted to it - admittedly, Andy went a little overboard when he bought his first cock. Andy waits until Tom is fully seated, littering his neck with little kisses and praise for how well he's taking him, how pretty he looks, until Tom looks fully comfortable and ready to start complaining if Andy doesn't start fucking him in earnest soon. That's when Andy shows him the other item he pulled from the drawer - Tom's favorite collar.

Tom's reaction is instantaneous. He throws his head back, moving over Andy's cock as he lets out a breathless, almost choked moan; the hands he had resting on Andy's shoulders suddenly squeezing full force in his need.

"God, you're such a whore," Andy says, casually, and Tom nods, even as he flushes. The collar is just a simple black one, with a little hoop for the leash, but inside they had it engraved with the words Andy's whore, and it left visible marks that could be seen for a few hours after they took it off. It never failed to drive Tom crazy, so it always drove Andy crazy, too. "Stay still," he warns, and Tom nods, breathing heavily, gripping Andy's shoulder as tight as he can as he stays frozen in place. Andy slowly puts it around his neck, checking with his finger to make sure it's not too tight, and the second he clasps it in place, Tom's whole body relaxes, a content little sigh escaping his lips, his face slack and blissed out. He likes being owned, so much. Andy can't get enough of it. "Good?" he asks, just to make sure it's not too tight.

"Perfect," Tom answers, the words leaving him in a sigh. Andy then ties the leash to the headboard, making sure that they're just far enough from it that he'll be feeling its pull the whole time. Tom lets out a moan. "Thank you, Sir."

Andy smirks. "Now, here's what I want you to do," he says, "you're going to ride me, just like that, and you're not going to come until I tell you to. You're definitely not going to come before I do. If you come close, you'll have to tell me. I want to hear you scream, so make as much noise as you want. Do you understand?"

Tom nods again, almost dizzyingly quick. "Yes, Sir."

"Good, then get to it."

Tom doesn't need to be told twice. He starts riding him, slowly at first, trying to find the perfect angle for Andy - not himself, Andy notices, pleased. Once it's perfect, Andy orders, "faster, slut,” and Tom obeys, as always, working up speed as he tries to keep himself upright, feeling the tug of his leash with every movement, moaning the whole time. “Good boy,” Andy says, and Tom’s responding whine is high pitched, embarrassing, needy. He gets even faster then, starting to babble as he keeps on working, and Andy just stays casually in place, not having to do a single thing while Tom works to give him pleasure.

"Fuck, you're so perfect, did you know that?" Tom asks, quickly sliding down on Andy's cock, making sure he puts all this weight in the end so Andy's cock will press down against his clit just the way he likes, making sure to go as deep as possible, "I've been dreaming of your cock for days, god, Sir, nothing's better than this," he hides his face in Andy's shoulder, speeding up even more, thighs shaking with the effort, and Andy puts a fist in his hair and pulls, watching as Tom throws his head back and lets out a scream, working even faster on Andy's cock. "Sir!," he whines, "oh, thank you, thank you, feels so good, oh my god, please, I'm gonna-"

"No, you won't," Andy interrupts, "I'm not even close to coming yet. Keep working, slut."

"Y-yes, Sir," he whines, going faster, deeper, and Andy makes it harder for him, keeps pulling at his hair to expose his neck, litters kisses and bites on his exposed throat, grabs his thigh and squeezes hard enough to bruise so Tom remembers he's his, his whore, his toy.

"I love it when you get like this," Andy says, doing his best to keep his tone even, even as he's a little breathless from pleasure, from power, "I bet you want to come so bad, don't you? If I'd just give you the word, you'd be making a mess of yourself, coming on my cock right now-"

"Fuck! Yes, yes, Sir, please, I'm so close."

Andy smiles. "No."

Tom whines, so cute, adorable, and Andy is nice enough to leave a little kiss on his shoulder, grounding, calming him down. Before going right back to torturing him, "no, you don't get to come for a long time yet. I want you just like this, on edge, tasting it…" Andy grins. "Tell me how close you are, baby."

"I'm- I'm so close-"

Andy slaps him in the face. "You can do better than that."

"Fuck, I feel like I'm going to explode, I'm so close, I want it so bad, and you feel so good, God, you have no idea what you do to me, Sir, your cock is so perfect, it hurts, I need it- need to cum on your cock, Sir, please-"

"No."

Tom chokes on a moan, and starts to go even faster. He lets out a little whine, something Andy thinks was supposed to be a word, but doesn't come close.

"See," Andy says, "this is why I won't let you come. Look at you - every time I tell you no, you get so desperate, so obedient - it's what you want, isn't it? You want me to keep telling you no, you want to know your pleasure doesn't matter, that you're just here to serve me."

"Yes! Yes, yes, yes-"

"Good, then keep going. And beg all you want- I like telling you no, too."

Tom does. He begs, and he says thank you when Andy denies him, again and again and again. Thank you, Sir, thank you for using me, for putting me in my place, I'm yours, I'm yours. And he keeps on praising Andy, praising his cock, his body, the way he fucks him and uses him, no one else makes me feel like this, no one deserves to be worshipped and served like you, Sir, I want to make you feel good-... Until even the clear-minded state of domspace begins to crumble and Andy feels nothing but pleasure, and confidence, and power, and he cums to the sound of Tom praising him and begging, once, twice, three times, until his head is clear again and everything, even the need to chase his own pleasure, is gone, and he just feels perfect.

"Stop," he orders Tom, who's still babbling more and more incoherently, endless praise and worship, and Andy finds that he worships Tom right back. "I want you to get my cock as deep inside you as you can, and stay still. I'm going to play with your dick for a while, and when I tell you to, you can come. You did well today, baby."

Tom nods, suddenly struggling to use his words. "T-thank you, Sir," he says, already frozen in place, thighs clenching with the effort not to move and also shaking with all the effort he did before.

Andy coos. "Poor baby. You were so good to me today. Let me take care of you."

"You always- always do, Sir," Tom replies, and Andy smiles.

He gives Tom a long, slow handjob, making sure Tom stays still through it, enjoying the way his thighs shake on top of Andy's, the pressure of Tom sitting tight on his cock, the way his arms also shake with effort where they rest around Andy's neck; Tom's pretty, exposed throat all marked up around his collar, his breathless little whines as Andy makes sure to do it just the way he likes it, makes his cock turn red with need; watches Tom bite his lip, because when he has to keep still he becomes so quiet and needy, even as the little whines go through his lips… Until Andy finally says, "come for me, baby," and Tom screams through an orgasm that lasts almost a minute, hanging on to Andy as tightly as he can to keep himself anchored through the pleasure.

And then Andy holds him, and Tom holds him back, and they hold each other.

----

A while later, they've cleaned up Tom's cum so it doesn't get all sticky on Andy's chest, and Andy's finally taken off those damn briefs - they're great for sex, but get pretty tight when you wear them for a long time - and Andy holds Tom against his chest. He's humming, contently, and if anyone had told him at the beginning of the day that he'd be comfortable enough to have someone close to him while he's fully naked, he'd - well, probably assume they meant Tom, but still be skeptical.

"How do you feel?" Tom asks after a little while, finally opening up his eyes and saying hello to the world.

"That's supposed to be my line," Andy laughs.

"I feel great. Perfect. Next time, I wanna do it for longer. A week? Let's try a week. Or two weeks…?"

Andy laughs. "Let's not make too big of a leap yet."

"Fine. A week sounds good. Great. And now that we've established that denial is totally bomb for me, how are you feeling?"

"Honestly? I'm feeling great, too," Andy admits, playing with a little stray of Tom's hair, swirling it around his finger, "I think I needed that, a little bit. Who'd have thought that having you ride me and praise my cock cures dysphoria."

"Every trans top on every forum I've ever visited."

"Let me have my moment of realization," Andy mumbles, faux-annoyed. Tom just laughs, holding him closer.

"I'm just glad I could help," he says.

"Please tell me you didn't ride my cock just to help."

"Well, no, in case you hadn't noticed, I was horny as fuck. I just tried to, you know. Use that to give you a little push. Since you wanted to. Y'know. Also, it was all true. So..."

"Thanks, love," Andy says, earnestly. "I love you."

"I love you more."

They bicker about it, and Andy's smiling the rest of the day.

[valdemart]

A New Experiment (NSFW ValdemarxReader)

I made a nasty Valdemar fic because I’m 🎵Human Garbage🎵

It’s Valdemar so warnings for medical kink, mentions of gore (I don’t think its that intense), dead bodies, some swearing, and everything else that goes with everybody’s favorite Quaestor.

((I know hysterical paroxysm probably wasn’t actually a treatment or whatever, and time line wise it doesn’t really fit, but for the sake of this story I do not give a fuck. Do I want to romance the horrible demon doctor? Yes? Am I foolish enough to think it’s possible? Absolutely not. This is as good as it gets, fuckos, not being murdered maybe.))

To make it an entire year as a student doctor under Doctor Valdemar was previously unheard of. If the student didn’t vanish mysteriously never to be heard from again, they fled to another country and refused to talk about it. You, however, had done it and it hadn’t even been hard. As head doctor of the palace, Valdemar had no time for anything not related to science. All you had to do was focus on work while you were working and do everything they said immediately and correctly.

You had even managed to get a few compliments from them. They were not the type to hand out praise, but you had gotten ‘adequate work’ several times and even one ‘well done’.

There were a few ‘eccentricities’ to deal with, but what genius wasn’t a little bizarre? Another year or so working under them and no doubt you’d leave to become a brilliant surgeon.

After an entire year of hard work and dedication, you wouldn’t have thought that you’d undo it all with one little mistake, but isn’t that always how it happened?

The city morgue had apparently gotten a new delivery man; specifically, a tall, brown eyed delivery man with a roguishly handsome smile. You hadn’t had a lot of time for dating while attending medical school and, well, you were only human. You had to flirt with him a little bit. Despite him hauling around unclaimed corpses, he was in the mood to flirt a little too. Doctor Valdemar was engrossed in a project so you made small talk with the man while you counted the bodies and signed his delivery ledger. He told an unfunny joke and you giggled. It was harmless and didn’t interrupt your work at all. As soon as he left, you were back to work, categorizing the corpses based on possible causes of death to be examined further.

But, later, white cleaning various beakers and test tubes, your mind began to wander. You couldn’t help the big, stupid grin plastered to your face as you thought of the delivery man. He’d be by next week and maybe by then you would have the nerve to ask him to dinner. Or maybe he would ask you, wouldn’t that be something.

Valdemar called your name loudly and impatiently and you jumped. Had they said your name already without you hearing it? They did not like having to repeat themselves. In jumping, you had managed to knock two test tubes off the table. They broke with two quiet ‘tinks’ against the floor. You stared at them wide eyed for a moment before looking up. Doctor Valdemar was less than a foot away from you and frowning.

Shit…

You hadn’t ever broken anything before. The last person to break something had been an assistant and Doctor Valdemar had stepped on their hand while they were picking up the shards, driving the glass into their skin. That had made you conscientious about maintaining a firm grip on everything in the dungeon.

After a horrible, silent moment of staring, Valdemar smiled.

“Distracted today, are we? It wouldn’t have anything to do with that handsome man that was here earlier, would it?”

They weren’t yelling, but they often didn’t so there was no telling how mad Valdemar was right now.

“I’m so sorry, Doctor Valdemar. I’ll clean it up and get right back to work.”

“Leave it for now.”

This kind of thing didn’t happen to you. You were a professional, dammit. You had never gotten in trouble before and now Valdemar was going to make you eat those broken test tubes.

Valdemar turned to the only two other staff currently on and waved their hand at them.

“Leave us.”

They exchanged glances with one another and then shot you two helpless, sympathetic looks before climbing the stairs to the palace.

“Come join me at my desk for a moment, wont you?”

Your feet felt like lead as you dragged yourself to the desk in the middle of the dungeon. Valdemar sat down, but you waited for them to nod at you before you dared to take a seat. There was another endless moment of silence as they watched you over their steepled fingers.

“Was I right? We’re you thinking of that delivery boy?”

“Yes, Doctor.”

Of all the stupid things to get in trouble for.

“Seems even the good little humans lose their heads in the spring.”

This would be funny if it wasn’t so terrifying.

“Mating season and all.”

Maybe you’ll be the first student to be forgiven?

“When was the last time you had sex?”

Valdemar didn’t waste time mincing words. A forthright question like this was embarrassing but not uncommon.

“Oh, um, two years ago I believe, Doctor.”

“Hmm, I see. Do you masturbate often?”

Despite your fear, you couldn’t help your blush at that question.

“Um, not very, I don’t think, Doctor.”

“Quantify it.”

“Um, once or twice a month.”

“I see.”

This next span of silence really does go on forever. It’s almost as though Valdemar has no intention of speaking. Their unblinking gaze is too much to bear and you speak first.

“I’m so sorry, Doctor. I promise, it won’t happen again.”

“How?”

“P-Pardon?”

“How are you going to keep it from happening again?”

Well, you hadn’t expected that question. Usually, when you apologized to someone, they just accepted that you would do better.

“I, um, I’ll just-“

Valdemar stared at you while you stuttered, their passive face making it very clear that they could wait all day for an answer.

“I don’t want to disappoint you, Doctor. I’ll do better. I won’t get distracted anymore.”

“And how can you guarantee that? The human drive to mate is so primal. It’s so deeply embedded in your brain that it will almost certainly always win over logic. I don’t blame you for what you are, but I don’t trust you to be able to resolve it on your own. After all, you aren’t even a doctor yet, are you?”

Well, at least they weren’t angry. You weren’t sure what they had planned, but it wouldn’t be like that time they broke another assistant’s arm for preparing the wrong slice of a cadaver’s brain.

“I’ll do whatever you think I need to do, Doctor.”

They rose suddenly and silently, making you flinch slightly.

“I’m glad to hear you say that. It’s refreshing for someone to take responsibility instead of blubbering excuses. Although, I would expect nothing less from you.”

You watched Valdemar walk over to one of the metal exam tables and reach underneath to pull out the gynecological stirrups. A feeling of dread washed over you, but all you could think was how well you had oiled the stirrups, as they no longer squeaked when they were moved.

“It will be a simple treatment. Not invasive at all and so little blood,” Valdemar explained, steepling their fingers together again. “Now, please undress from the waist down and lie on the table.”

You didn’t move. You couldn’t. What the hell was Valdemar planning on doing to you? Cut you? Sew you up? Because you were distracted one time?! No! Please no! This couldn’t be happening! Not this!

“D-Doctor Valdemar, please, whatever you’re planning… I’m sorry! I’ll work twice as long just-“

You could try to run, but how far would you get? Valdemar was almost supernaturally graceful and quick and if they caught you, there would be Hell to pay.

Valdemar frowned but didn’t otherwise move. They were studying your face as though they were trying to read your thoughts and figure out why you weren’t obeying them.

“Are you afraid I’m going to mutilate your genitals? Really, now. Horny is one problem I can fix, but I can’t help you if you’ve gone stupid as well. If I carve you up, I lose my only capable assistant for days while you recover.”

Valdemar sounded annoyed, but there was the slightest bit of amusement in their tone. And while you desperately did not want to stall further and really anger them, the fear of the unknown medical procedure planned for you kept you frozen in place.

“Please tell me what you’re going to do.”

Your plea was raspy as you fought and failed to hold back tears, but to your great relief, Valdemar didn’t seem any more annoyed with your sniveling. It was the same impassive face they wore when a patient pleaded to save a limb from amputation. Just a minor irritation.

“Hysterical paroxysm.”

“What?!”

Then, to your great perplexity, Valdemar grinned. Not the sharped tooth grin that accompanied the arrive of more corpses for autopsy but a closed lipped grin like…they were trying to comfort you? What was happening?

“Hysteria. A most amusing theory, but further proof that the human mind is incapable of truly grasping medical science. However, in this case? This might be the cure we need. Now then,” Valdemar said, patting the exam table. “Up you go.”

What choice did you have? You could run. If that didn’t change Valdemar’s mind about cutting you up then you’d still lose your residency. You’d never be a doctor then.

And…

This was quite possibly the nicest Valdemar had ever been to anyone. They were the smartest and most capable doctor you knew. You had been chasing their approval since day one and never once had you seen them attempt any sort of bedside manner before. But now they were endeavoring it specifically for you. Squaring your trembling shoulders the best you could, you reached up and under your coat and pulled your pants and panties down with one smooth tug. You shivered as the cool air of the dungeon hit your legs and Valdemar merely watched patiently as you worked off your shoes and folded your pants.

“There’s a good girl,” Valdemar cooed as you laid down on the table. The praise had to have been meant to mock you, but as they almost gently assisted you with putting your legs in the stirrups, you weren’t sure of anything anymore. Valdemar had cracked ribs and dislocated ankles while strapping patients into restraints before. Was this really happening?

Valdemar opened a few buttons on the bottom of your lab coat and flipped each side outward, exposing you completely. The doctor never was one to waste time with a privacy blanket.

“No wonder I’m having problems with you,” they said as they ghosted a single digit down your slit, making you shiver. “Your little cunt is so engorged that there’s no blood left for your brain.”

They spoke with an almost bored air of professionalism, like they were examining a mole and not about to finger fuck you to orgasm. As horribly embarrassed as you were, prone in front of your boss like this, you risked a quick glace downwards. You only saw the crisp white dressing wrapped around the doctor’s head as they gave you a thorough visual examination, staring intently at your vulva as they softly spread and stretched you lips.  You bit back a whine. How were you supposed to work for them after this? You’d never be able to look them in the eye again.

“Now then,” the doctor said, standing to their full height. “Let’s commence treatment.”

Two long, hard fingers that felt more like a medical instrument than a part of someone’s hand entered you swiftly. The cold rubber of the glove made you gasp and your nipples hardened under you clothing.

Valdemar didn’t move like you had expected them to and instead called your name. Reluctantly and with a great deal of mortification, you met their gaze while you were being penetrated. They stared at you, unblinking, their razor blade smile finally back on their face.

“Do feel free to make noise. It will help me speed the treatment along.”

Your head fell back as they began, their cool fingers almost scrapping at your walls as their thumb made a perfunctory back and forth motion against your clitoris. It was as sterile and unerotic as something like this was possibly capable of being. But, somehow, it was doing the trick. You could feel yourself heating up against the cool air. Despite your humiliation, your boss was actually going to make you cum.

Despite? Or because of?

Valdemar was deathly silent now and, even with your eyes being snapped shut, you could feel their gaze on your face with needle like focus. Their movements didn’t change in the slightest, almost like they were using a machine.

And yet…

You were beginning to squirm and twitch under their ministrations. You balled your fists against the cold metal of the exam table and let the first of several heady moans escape you lips. You were really going to cum on your weird boss’s fingers on a table you were going to have to see every day you worked.

That thought was your undoing.

As you bit back a squeal and your back arched off the table, Valdemar continued moving their fingers until your contractions stopped and you tried to pull away from them. Then their touch was gone completely. You allowed yourself a moment to catch your breath. Despite the horribly bizarre nature of it all, it had been a good orgasm. However, the light, warm feeling fled you faster than it usually did. Most likely it was from the stirrups and exam table and lack of a soft, warm bed or the loving caress of a partner. Your high extinguished, you wanted nothing more than to get dressed, but you didn’t have the doctor’s permission. You propped yourself up enough to see Valdemar, who was now standing a few feet to your right next to a torch. Holding their fingers up to the light, they were scissoring their two fingers back and forth, studying your cervical mucus as it stretched. A hot wave of embarrassment sent you back down.

“D-Doctor? May I get dressed now?”

You looked when they didn’t answer right away and you watched with shame as they scraped your discharge off their fingers and into a vial.

“Yes. The treatment is over now.”

Your legs cramped slightly as you removed them and stood up and your toes tingled as blood finally reached them again. That discomfort was nothing compared to the aching empty that had suddenly taken over your chest. No, you hadn’t exactly had a long-term partner before and your lovers were few and far between since most people didn’t understand the long hours of a medical student, but you hadn’t been into casual encounters either. There had been cuddling and pillow talk with them and now, as you pulled your pants up in silence, you felt ashamed and used. Obviously, Valdemar wasn’t interested in romantic entanglements, that much you’d bet any amount of money on, but had this just been some weird power trip? Or an experiment? You were grateful it hadn’t involved the removal of any of your organs like most of the doctor’s experiments, but it did nothing to stop the sob that rose in your throat.

You froze. There was no way Valdemar hadn’t heard you. They had been incredibly accommodating with you this entire time, but no doubt your crying would anger them finally. Your luck had to run out eventually. You didn’t look up as they moved towards you, their heels clicking on the stone floor.

“I’m sorr-“

Your apology was cute off when their hand grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at them. Their grip wasn’t painful, but the indifference in their eyes as they studied your face knocked the wind out of you like a fist.

“I’m so sorr-“

“Oxytocin.”

“What?”

“Oxytocin. Dreadful little chemical. But it’s always so fascinating how humans are such slaves to their hormones. In the end, what are humans but machines powered by chemicals and electrical currents?”

You shivered at their voice. That odd, detached way they spoke about humans as though they themselves were not one was also so unsettling, even if you were usually able to ignore it.

What happened next, however, was the weirdest thing to happen in all your time working under the doctor. Stiffly, and with no affection, Valdemar leaned forward and pressed their lips to your forehead. They did not pucker and they made no effort to actually kiss you, but their thin, cool lips against you was probably the closest they had ever gotten to it. It was the equivalent of pressing a lizard’s face against you for a few seconds, but it stopped your tears immediately.

“That will be sufficient comfort for you, I hope?”

“Yes, Doctor,” you replied, your voice soft with incredulousness. There was no way that had actually happened. All of this was some incredibly messed up dream. Clearly, you had been working too hard and were stressed.

“Good. Now, take your lunch hour and collect yourself. Be back here on time and set up the diaphanization chemicals. Don’t make me wait.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

Unsure of how to carry yourself, you half bowed, half curtsied before turning to ascend the stairs. Hopefully an hour would be enough time to process the last ten or so minutes. It probably wouldn’t be, but at least you were being given any time at all.

Before your foot had even hit the first step, you felt those long, thin fingers wrap tightly around your hips. You froze and your breath hitched in your throat.

“One last thing before you go,” Valdemar said softly, their breath tickling your ear as they spoke. “Do be sure to let me know if you start feeling distracted again. I need to take care of my favorite subject.”

[raziroo]

3. Demon Child (Pt. II) - Remus Lupin

Pairing : Remus Lupin x Reader

Genre : Angst all the way. Hint of fluff.

Warnings : Abusive home conditions, mentions of death, graphic descriptions of death, descriptions of torture, mentions of sexual activity.

Word count : 7,200

~~~~~

"What?" I asked Potter and company.

"N-nothing, just, you know..."

"You think me kissing your best friend is strange."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Well... Because you seem to hate humans in general, and it physically pains you to smile?" Potter asked, sarcastically. "Oh, and also because you're incapable of feeling emotions," Black chided.

"Is 'ugh' an emotion? Because I feel that all the time," I retorted, then turned to Lupin. "I don't feel 'ugh' now, I feel actually happy, but that's an occurrence that's rarer than a Parseltongue, so..." I shrugged.

"It's OK," he replied.

After a painfully awkward moment, I exclaimed, "Well! I... Guess I should get going, uh, I need to... get fired," I said, removing my hands from Lupin's shoulders.

"Fired? Why would you get fired?" he questioned, furrowing his brows, looking adorable.

"Oh, Moony! Why are you surprised? Miss I-only-wear-black-and-it-physically-pains-me-to-smile scared her boss, so now she's about to get fired," Black commented. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Well, Mr. It-is-my-mission-to-get-in-bed-with-every-breathing-organism-in-existence, I am about to get fired because I was on "holiday" for two whole weeks, and because I bunked my five minute break to come visit your best friend who you're practically married to, and because my boss is a-!" and that was the moment, witches and wizards, when the Golden students of Gryffindor had the fortune of hearing my artistically colorful vocabulary. "Oh, and also," I added, "I don't wear just black. I wear inky black, metallic black, leather black, jet black, jade black, obsidian black, onyx black, charcoal black, midnight black, coal, and raven. And also, grey, burgundy, violet, blue, and green." I flashed a smile at Black's bewildered face, and with a kiss to Lupin's cheek, apparated out.

•••••

Ever since the kiss, that had occurred two weeks ago, Lupin frequently visited me. He often brought me food, and coffee, and we would sit and talk about anything and everything for literal hours. Things had become comfortable between us, we had even discussed about the kiss, and what it meant. I had made it clear that, now that he finally knew what I felt towards him, he was in no way forced to return the feeling, and that it was alright with me if he ever felt uncomfortable or forced to reciprocate my feelings.

Of course, he had always replied with a remark that assured me that he wasn't feeling forced, and it was all fine. I, of course, wanted to believe him; it wasn't my fault that I couldn't. Because even though I knew Remus Lupin was a good person, one who'd never lie to me, I was also aware of the fact that I wasn't typical crush material, and people would have no problem leaving me, even if they were scared of me, quite like my father.

And so, strictly out of the fear of being left alone, a quite rational fear of being left alone, I asked him the question that had been bugging me for days now. Or at least tried to.

"Gryffindor," I said, to the person sitting opposite me, who was sipping coffee in the secluded corner of the coffee shop.

"Hm?"

"I... wanted to ask you... something," my hesitance abundant in my voice. Perhaps my unusual reluctance was the reason that led Lupin to look up at me.

"What is it?"

"I... Have been thinking..."

"Hm, go on," he urged.

"I just... " I couldn't do it, it was way too difficult. So I twisted my words around, in order to make the Gryffindor aware of what I meant to say, without actually saying it. "Look... As a kid, I didn't have the greatest childhood. I- I had one of the worst... possible scenarios you could possibly call a childhood. I was a... Mistake, as my parents kept reminding me every other day; they had me when they were teenagers, you see," I raised my eyebrows a bit, but not meeting the man's intense gaze.

"So, my father didn't... he wasn't very- keen on the idea of supporting a family, and neither was my mother. She did, however, take care of me as a child, if you could call feeding a person regularly taking care. My father, he dropped around to our apartment... from time to time, and that was also just a formality. I mean, until I was seven, he did say "Hello" to me, called me a name I hated, but it was a pet name nonetheless; after that... he just stopped caring. Kept having affairs, would get involved with problematic people, ignored me and my mother. Mum, obviously, had slipped into depression. I, as an eleven year old, had to witness my own mother transition into a drunkard, and my father didn't care," I sighed.

"After I received my Hogwarts letter, however, I had to leave, and so... my father left as well. Because, well, why should you care for your dying wife? Your mistake of a kid will now be fed; she wont have to arrange food herself, and that's all a father's role is, isn't it?" I looked up to a face filled with sympathy and pain.

"After my second year, though, I knew that my mother's condition was worsening; she'd gotten into drugs, she seriously needed a rehab. I visited my dad a few times, asked him to get my mother treatment. He just called me by that nasty pet name, gave me a cookie, and sent me on my way. My mum's condition kept worsening and worsening and worsening, she even resorted to hitting me and stuff; I had to lock her in her room. I... just think about it. I had to lock my own mother in a room, and listen to her sobbing- a- and banging on the door, begging me to open the door. But I couldn't, because well, self-survival was a thing."

One day, I returned home from my muggle job, and I called out to my mother; check if she needed food, or- or if I could read her a story. I pulled out a card from... my bag, because it was her birthday. And I go inside, hoping to see my mother in a better... mood than usual; she hadn't been locked up in her room, so." I chuckled, as I tried to blink my tears away.

"And then, I go into her room, and you know what I see? My... my mother's bod-" I sucked in a breath. "She was laying... on the ground, and her eyes, they had no life in them, she- my mother had died. I got her admitted in the nearest muggle hospital, and, a few days later, in her postmortem report, it said that she died because of a... drug overdose. I, was obviously so confused, because I made it sure that I always threw all the- the drugs and alcohol out, I destroyed it. That... Was the reason she was able to live on her own in the first place, obviously. And all the abuse, mental, and... And physical... That wasn't because she was drunk. It was because I wasn't giving her the alcohol. She had so many attacks, and even a couple seizures, but a visit to the hospital, and she would always be able to survive. So when, after my fifth year, I see my mother dead, it was devastating. I wasn't able to find out who really gave her the drugs; I had to suffer jail time. Got out because my father bailed me out after the first three days."

And then, in her funeral, he didn't even make an appearance. I was alone, at her funeral. And then, one month later, a few days before school started, he makes an appearance, with his newest girlfriend," I sniffed.

"An he's like, 'Hey, kid,' and at that moment, I hated my father. I truly hated my father at that moment, because I knew that he had really stopped caring. He didn't even call me that nickname, didn't even call me... 'Demon Child', didn't taunt me for being magical like my mother. He didn't try to even show his loathing for me, and that's when I knew he really stopped caring. Because if you hate someone, you dislike someone, you care about them. But..." I swallowed the lump in my throat, not wanting to let the first sob out.

"Everyone, Gryffindor, every single one of the people who I cared about, they left. My mother, my father, Cynthia. And, I know it's not even been that long, but I like you, Gryffindor, a lot. More than I feel comfortable with, this is uncharted territory for me. And I just, I don't want you to go, or leave, because I don't know how much longer I can go around with this bitchy persona, because it hurts. It hurts to kn- know that I don't deserve getting cared about. And I-" I couldn't even say what I had to, I burst in tears. Lupin didn't waste even a fraction of a second to envelope me in a hug, allowing me to cry my sorrows away.

I had truly never felt more cared about, and safe, than I did in that moment.

•••••

Honestly, my life could have been a teen drama. Four months, four very hectic and possessed months later, after I officially became Remus Lupin's girlfriend, the Dark Lord and his goons found out about it.

And purely because of my knowledge and intellect on dark magic, the Death Eaters had sworn to forever follow me, and give me zero privacy. They often turned into ordinary civilians, I could just tell that they weren't ordinary people going about their ordinary routines; these people were Death Eaters.

So one day, while I was in the old Coffee shop, alone, after a long period of time, my irritatingly impulsive self confronted one such Death Eater in disguise, who just so happened to be one who could not-so-easily overpower me. Yep, you guessed it, none other than Bellatrix LeStrange.

"Can I talk to you?" I asked Bellatrix, who was in disguise of a frail woman with curly ginger hair and big blue eyes.

"Me?" she asked, sounding surprised, and very fake.

"Yes," I replied. "Bellatrix, yes, you," she looked surprised. I don't know what for, though, because her acting was pathetic, and the way her eyes had been trained on me throughout my visit to the cafe was hostile and creepy enough for any normal person to suspect danger.

"I don't know why you and your Death Eaters are stalking me, but I don't like it. So if you could please leave me alone, and let me live my life, it would be heavily appreciated."

The woman, however, only sneered at me, and before I could even snatch my wand out, I had been apparated away.

•••••

Being back at Malfoy Manor was certainly not a pleasant experience; the dungeons of the manor stunk badly, and the fact that there were now more prisoners in it wasn't exactly homely. On top of that, Voldemort seemed adamant on making me one of his Death Eaters.

And he had been successful.

Staying in the same rotten cellar, with its putrid stench and disgusting puddles for an entire twelve days, as far as I'd managed to count, was a tedious task on its own. But when I received torture sessions from Bellatrix LeStrange everyday, where my body would end up feeling sore until the next day, when I had to get tortured again, the twelve days felt to be as long as a century.

Whenever I asked the Death Eaters why they were doing this they would just chortle and leave. So one particular day- or it could have been night, as far as I was concerned - I said something that I would have never, ever said in such a situation, because in all honesty, I wasn't keen on dying. How, or why those words spewed from my mouth, I was unaware, but the damage had already been done, and the Dark Lord had taken offense personally. And so the situation had spiralled out of my control.

"Why doesn't your Dark Lord come here to greet me personally, huh? Why does he send his minions to deal with an innocent prisoner?"

Bella scowled. "It's because the Lord doesn't wish to spend time on half-breed filth such as you; he expects us to take care of people of your likes, and I would be damned if I don't."

"Ha," I laughed, a spiteful, emotionless laugh. "He doesn't want to spend time on half-breed filth like me? Well, tell him I'm not going to subject to his torture. He can hurt me all he wants; I will never become a Death Eater," I sneered at Bellatrix.

She spat at my face. I moved it out of the way. "Well, thank you then. The Dark Lord will be pleased to know that you have already surrendered," and she strutted off, before I could even think to question the meaning of her sadistic grin and the cackle she let out on her way.

••••

Why do I have to be so damn dumb?

I should have let them torture me, hurt me. But no, little miss bad bitch had to go ahead and question the Dark Lord's intentions. And now, I had messed up. Bad. Real bad.

Why? Oh, because this was the question the Dark Lord had posed when he'd come to check my cellar late that same night.

"If you do not wish to be a Death Eater, a devoted follower, then that is fine. But know, that I do have other methods... Forceful methods to get you to submit to me," the Dark Lord had said, in his ominous, whisper voice. "If you are confused as to why the Darkest Wizard of all time is so determined to have you under his wing, then, you may not be as clever and cunning as I expect of you," he'd snarled, his vicious eyes on me.

"I know why, I'm not...," I had sighed, because I had been dumb. "You want me to become a Death Eater because of your brother's soul that resides within me. Maybe... Because I'm into darker forms of magic as well," I had said, straining my voice.

"Hmm, you do, indeed, possess sense. I thought you didn't, for you had very easily given into Bellatrix, a trap... Of sorts... But then again, I expected you to. You may be cunning, but you do not know the full extent of my command and power on people... You couldn't possibly have expected to be aware of your ...relations, with the half breed."

That was when my head had jerked up, looking at the Lord with wide eyes; he didn't even glimpse in my direction.

"I do know, I know... Lord Voldemort knows all... If you do not submit to my will, then, unfortunately, I will have to... attend to the werewolf personally. I will make him feel homely, but yet I assume you wouldn't want me to keep your little lover as a guest..." he'd trailed off, finally stopping his pacing and looking at me, staring down, at my fearful eyes, panic-stricken face, and shaking body.

"You, you- you can't-"

"I can, foolish child, you know that as well... It would be best, then, if you bid your alliegance to me, to the cause... To the Greater Good... Or we can always pay the werewolf a visit..."

"I-" I had looked up at the Dark Lord's merciless slits-for-eyes, and then instantaneously looked down, closing my eyes, but shedding no tears.

"Fine..." I had barely managed to whisper, shaking my head. I had known this was selfish; I should have been fine with sacrificing the Gryffindor for a better world; I would have certainly sacrificed either, or both, of my parents if I had to. But even though I'd met the Gryffindor only about half a year ago, I suddenly realized that I cared about him more than I could've ever imagined. I didn't just love the Gryffindor anymore, no, I was in love with him. And that realization alone was so startling that I had missed hearing the Dark Lord give me instructions on how to dress and when to appear in the Malfoy living room for the ceremony.

For my Death Eater initiation.

•••••

I was currently situated in the centre of the Malfoy Manor's living room, dressed in my usual color, black. Though this time, I was dressed in clothing belonging to Bellatrix LeStrange. My left arm was stretched out, forearm bare, as the Dark Lord approached me, his wand in hand, ready to carve in the ugly stain that would forever bind my alliance with him.

"Hmm... My dear followers," the Dark Lord said, addressing all the Death Eaters that were surrounding us; most of them looking nervous and having a sense of nostalgia to them - not-so-pleasant nostalgia. A few others, and I mean really few others, such as Bella, were grinning. Charming.

"Today is the day... The day when I initiate a Death Eater who's only reason to become a Death Eater, is love, " The Dark Lord taunted and laughed, and his followers chuckled too. "Love for a werewolf, at that... But fear not! She will not betray us... Won't even think about it. Why, might you ask... Because she has the soul of Richard Riddle in her... The soul, of my deceased brother." Although the Dark Lord paused, his followers didn't laugh. "And she's aware that I just have to greet him to cause immeasurable pain to her... She's smart... But above that, she knows that her werewolf will be in danger if she betrays me... But then again, she may go behind my back without me noticing. Like I mentioned earlier, she has great levels of intellect... So, after the Death Eater initiation, I will bind her in an Unbreakable Vow."

What?!

"Don't look surprised... It was expected... Even if the scarcest bit," he said, words aimed towards me. "But first, you will be initiated. And to be initiated, you have to kill someone..." I wasn't aware of that.

"Bring her in!" the Dark Lord said in a higher voice, and soon the lump body of a girl was levitated inside the room. The girl, brunette and with blue eyes, looked painfully familiar, but due to all the panic and dread swirling around my gut, I just couldn't place it. It was the kind of feeling you got when there was a word, right on the tip of your tongue, but you still couldn't place it.

As the spells were removed from the female's body, she fell to the ground, her hands supporting her fall, hair messily framing her face. She could be clearly heard sobbing. I watched, scared, as I pondered on how I was going to kill the poor girl. Said girl looked up and around, and when her eyes fell on Voldemort, she started sobbing even louder, pleading to anyone and everyone.

Her cries and pleas were blatantly ignored, however, as the Dark Lord turned to me. He didn't need to say anything, I knew what I was supposed to do. And so, knowing that there was no way out, I raised my wand at the girl, who screamed when she saw me go through the motions. She shook her head, crawling over and grabbing me legs, howling, wailing, begging for me to spare her.

I knew that maybe, maybe I wouldn't have to murder anyone in the end, if the spell fell short. It obviously was a tricky spell, the Avada Kedavra, so I might be spared of murdering someone.

So I raised my wand, fully confident that it wouldn't work, and meeting the girl's eyes, muttered the spell. Except my fantasies didn't come true. Perhaps, it was because of the other, very powerful soul that inhabited my body, alongside my own soul, but it worked.

The spell worked.

The Avada Kedavra worked. I had just committed a murder.

And just as the gravity and guilt of that situation fell upon my shoulder, I realized something else as well.

Those striking blue eyes, they could belong to only one person. And that was Crystal Hollander. The face shape, the body, the eyes, everything was same except the hair. I had not just murdered someone, I had murdered Crystal Hollander's sister.

But I wasn't given time to hate myself, though. The Dark Lord let out a low chuckle, swished his wand, and the dead body disappeared. I looked up. "Killing someone for the first time can be traumatic; more so when you do it against your will. But we'll, it does not do well do dwell on the past. Bring out your arm." I did.

The Dark Lord wandlessly cast a spell, and the skin on my left forearm begun to burn, and not just tingling burn. My skin was getting scarred, and then it was being cut through, albeit in the shape of the Dark Mark. I bled, and finally, an inky black hue covered my scarred and bleeding skin, and when it cleared, only smooth skin and the Dark Mark was left behind. The pain hadn't stopped, though.

The Death Eaters all remained silent. The Dark Lord then held out his left arm, and looked up at me, right in the eyes. It felt like he was piercing through my soul, and considering who we were talking about, he probably could. At first, I just stared right back at him, confused as to what his want was. But then it clicked, and so I joined hands with him. He then ordered Rudolphus LeStrange to come forward and carry out the vow.

After the Dark Lord turned to Rudolphus and conveyed the vows to Rudolphus through his, what I could only assume, mind, using legilimency, Rudolphus nodded out of his daze and started speaking, whilst casting the spell.

"Do you forever vow your services, as well as allegiance, to the Dark Lord?" he asked.

Nervously, and after taking a breath, I replied, "Yes." A thin golden tendril of magic came out of his wand and wrapped around our joined hands.

"Do you vow to never break the Dark Lord's trust?"

"Yes." Another tendril came and wrapped it around us.

"And finally, do you vow to swear on your life, that you will always bear the Dark Mark, and to serve your Lord, die for him?"

I swallowed. "Y-yes."

The golden tendril burst into sparkles, and then someone spoke. It was the Dark Lord this time.

"Well, welcome... To the ranks of a Death Eater."

.....

3 more months had passed since that initiation, and I was miserable. I had constantly been asked to carry out Death Eater-esque tasks; taking part in attacks, killing and torturing people, the likes. I was also being trained. And I wasn't aware why I'd been surprised in the first place, because it was painfully obvious that such tasks were part of being a Death Eater.

My relationship with the Gryffindor, if you could still even call it that, was going as strong as ever. We still hung out all the time, read books together, and visited the quaint little Cafe.

It had been one month since I'd confronted Lupin about his furry little secret, and he had looked as scared as I could've possibly thought. I'd quickly calmed him down, though, but still he wouldn't listen. He'd apparated away. I'd followed. We had both ended up in different places; knowing Lupin's address, I'd apparated there later, and found said man messing his room up.

Sparing the details, one thing led to another, and we both had ended up taking each other's clothes off, and me telling the man that I loved him; my feelings were reciprocated. Thank Salazar I'd been using a cosmetic spell to cover up my Mark, or things would've gotten messy. Little did I know, they were soon about to.

Sooner than I was comfortable with.

.....

I was sat in the Gryffindor's bed, inside his apartment. Said Gryffindor was currently preparing tea in the kitchen, while I was engrossed in a book about lethal magical creatures.

I had arrived about an hour ago; Lupin had invited me yesterday, but I couldn't come due to a Death Eater attack that I'd been involved in. My injuries and bruises had all been covered up by cosmetic spells and my usual form of clothing: long sleeves. However, I hadn't covered my Mark, because there there was a gash going through it, and there was a bandage wrapped around it; I simply had been too lazy too use a cosmetic spell, even though parts of my Mark were still visible.

I was just about to reach the end of the Vampire chapter, when I heard a distant crack, and the opening of a door. My eyebrows furrowed as I closed my book without even marking the page; who would separate here, at this time? It was probably the Gryffindor's friends, Black and Potter and Pettigrew, but Lupin had said that he'd informed them he was busy today.

Ignoring all the questions in my mind, I swung my legs around the bed, and walked to the living room.

"Lupin, who is it?" Only I needn't ask, because the golden-blonde hair and the Boston dress was enough proof. Crystal Hollander.

I immediately grew nervous; even though she didn't know I killed her sister, I still had an uneasy knot in my stomach.

"Hollander? What ar-"

The girl whipped her head around, looking livid. Lupin peered at me from behind her.

"You!" she exclaimed, pointing one of her sharp nails at me, nostrils flaring. "You filthy Death Eater!"

I tried not to show my surprise, but still my eyes widened a bit, and my brows raised. It was often that people mistook me for a Death Eater, courtesy of my interests in Dark Magic and fashion sense, but I had never ever felt as queasy as I did at that moment.

"What?"

"What?"

Lupin and I asked at the same time.

"Don't 'what?' me!" Hollander exclaimed. "You know exactly what I'm talking about! You were there, present at the Death Eater attack yesterday!"

"I... Know that," I said. "I was present at the Death Eater attack yesterday. That's why there's all this," I pointed at my split lip and the light bruise on my cheekbone, "on my face."

Hollander let out a frustrated groan/scream at the same time. "Could you stop being so irritating and ju-" the girl's eyes fell on my left forearm. Oh no. "Show me your arm."

"What? Why?"

"Because that's where the Mark is, isn't it? Huh? That's why you're so-"

I let out a typical forced breath of mine, and rolling my eyes, said, "Look, Hollander. I understand that being the reason for my friend's very gruesome death, you're traumatised, and probably have PTSD-"

"What's PTSD?"

"-but that doesn't give you a right to harass me. I know that you want to reduce your guilt, even though I'm pretty sure you don't even have a guilt complex. But I won't have it. Get out," and with that and a sharp glare, I turned on my heel, all ready to walk away, when a voice stopped me.

"Stop..." I turned around at the Gryffindor's voice, looking at him incredulously. "Just show the arm to her... and me," he said, looking stern.

I opened my mouth, trying to say something, but nothing would come out. I probably looked like a fish.

Clenching my jaw, hard, I put a hand on the sleeve of my left arm, ready to lift it. I already was ready to take out my wand.

Closing my eyes, I pulled up my sleeve, and as soon as i was done, I whipped out my wand. It was the right time, too, as Hollander pointed her wand at me at the same time. However, before she could do anything, I Petrificus Totalus-ed her.

My head then swiveled towards Lupin, who was now staring at me with a blank expression. But even though his expression was blank, I knew he was broken inside. His eyes said it all.

"Remus, I can explain, plea-"

"Stupefy! " I took a step to the side, but instead, Lupin got hit.

"Remus!"

"Gryffindor!" hearing the other call of his name, I turned around, meeting the furious eyes of Black, Evans and Potter. Apparently, through all this drama, those three had also made it here. How, I didn't know, because I was sure Lupin had asked them not to. But that didn't matter. They were livid.

Before I could even breathe, they were shooting spells at me, and I was shooting spells at them.

I did the only thing I could possibly do. Which was also incredibly stupid. I pressed on my Mark, and called the other Death Eaters. I was so dumb.

After a long and complicated duel, I finally mustered the courage to cast a spell that I was never able to carry out before. "Prorsus Defixit!" it was just a stronger version of the petrifying spell.

Thankfully, maybe due to the adrenalin in my body, the spell worked, and all three Gryffindors fell to the floor, rigid.

I then turned to look at Lupin and Hollander, who were both also passed out. Well, that was great, but what was I to do about the Death Eater situation? I had acted foolishly, and in a panic, invited Death Eaters here; I guess my reflexes acted out - I had just grown used to calling other Death Eaters when I was in a tight situa-

Crack!

I was too late.

They were already here.

.....

I hoped the Gryffindors were doing well in the Malfoys' dungeons.

It was yesterday when the Death Eaters came and abducted them, and since then they'd been chained up in the cellars.

I hadn't been allowed to visit them, though. Not yet. The Dark Lord though it'd be better for me to be part of a few 'missions'. Why he thought so, I was unaware.

But one thing was clear. I had landed myself in deep shit.

I had been the reason for four people to be held prisoner, out of which three were Order members, one was out for revenge on me, and one was the man I loved.

Wonderful.

.....

Two days later, I was asked to visit my... those Gryffindors.

I was nerve wracked, and rightfully so, too. It wasn't everyday you got to visit your captive boyfriend.

As I made my way through the ominous hallways and staircases of the Malfoy Manor, I thought. The Dark Lord had said that he wanted me to be part of his ranks due to my cunning and cleverness, and knowledge; he'd said a contributing factor was the fact that I was possessed by the soul of his deceased brother. But that was the thing though, he hadn't really even conversed with his brother after I was turned a Death Eater, only a couple times at most. Even then, the pain hadn't lasted that long. And about the intelligence part, he hadn't really tested my wit, or cunning.

It was all so strange. It felt so... normal, now. It always had, even though it never should've. I was literally demonically possessed, but that issue felt so insignificant amidst all my other issues. For example, the fact that the person I'd become a Death Eater for was now hostage, that too because of me. And then, what Dumbledore said. Richard Riddle's soul would never really leave my body; not until the Dark Lord had really died. As in, even his soul was no more. But Dumbledore had said that that wouldn't be possible; not until all parts of his soul were destroyed. Not until the horcruxes were destroyed. And that was near to impossible.

I had asked Dumbledore why the soul just took home in me, why it didn't really possess me, as in control me. He'd said it was because Richard's soul was too weak. He just had one horcrux.

I didn't even realize when I reached the dungeon. I had almost barged into Magnus Fawley; thankfully, I caught myself.

He smirked at me.

I glared at him.

We went our separate ways - me into the cellar, him out of the dungeons.

As I walked in, I noticed that the people chained were all huddled close together. It wasn't really a very important detail, just a mere observation.

My footsteps indicated the prisoners of my arrival, and they looked up. Black, Potter and Hollander glared. Evans seemed as though she was trying to glare, but she couldn't because she was weak. And lupin - oh, his reaction broke my heart - he didn't even have a reaction; he was blank, not meeting my eyes.

I met all of their eyes, and masking my hurt, sat opposite them.

Hollander was already at it.

"You! You Death Eater scum! You're the reason we're all here! What did you lot do to my sist-?"

I groaned. "Hollander," I looked her dead in the eye. "Shut. Up. "

"You can't ask me to shut up! What did you do with my sister, huh? I always knew you were shady, reading those nasty books! You killed her, did you? I'm sure you did! Had fun doing it too, I reckon," she spat at me, her eyes seeing red, nose breathing fire. "And then- then you betray Remus! You loved him, didn't you? Bet it was all a plot, a, a grand scheme! " Her nostrils flared.

Before the Blondie could start again, I Silencio-ed her. She looked comedic.

"Why'd you do that, huh? Death Eater? "

That hurt.

I then mustered up all the self control and braveness I had, and spoke up. "Black, what do you take me for-?"

"-A death Eater, perhaps?"

"-,I'm not just going to sit here and let her blame me for something I very clearly did," I rolled my eyes. Lupin looked up, but looked down again almost instantaneously.

"So... You did kill Hollander's sister?"

"No, I didnt-"

"Oh, don't be modest. You did," Rabastan drawled, smirking, as he strolled in. I snapped my head at him, glaring venomously. Hollander's jaw dropped.

"She looked disgusted with herself; should be, too. Considering the Dark Lord had her in his ranks just because his dea-"

"If you don't shut up now, LeStarnge, I will castrate you."

"Oh, does little miss halfblood even know the spell for that?"

"You wanna see? Don't try me." I raised my brow at him, as his smirk faltered. He then drawled out monotonously, "The Dark Lord needs you to take care of our guests."

"I already am."

"You need to torture them," my jaw clenched. "Bellatrix will help you," and with a devious smirk, he sauntered out.

Although i didn't wish to, I really didn't, I knew the Dark Lord would do it himself and make me watch if I didn't do it. So standing up, I walked to the prisoners, standing in front of them.

"You really are-"

"Filthy? Scum? A git? A prat? A backstabbing cockroach? Thanks so much," I said uninterestedly to Black. "now, who would like to go first?"

"Look, you can't torture Lily."

"And why is it so, Potter?" I looked down at him.

"She... She's pregnant."

My eyes widened and brows raised. "You both thought it would be a good idea to bring a new life to this world during such times? You had sex with your wife in the midst of a war, and got her pregnant? How did you even have time for that?" I looked at him incredulously. He was turning scarlet, while his wife was too tired to even notice.

"You should always use protection." and with that, I pointed my wand at Evans, casting a spell. It wasn't Crucio, though, even I wasn't that heartless. It was imperio, and I forced the woman to writhe and thrash and scream, looking expressionless, all while the others, even Lupin, shouted and cursed at me. Soon, I was done with her and moved onto Black.

Him, though, I used cruciatus. I couldn't afford being caught.

I was done with him after a good ten minutes, and then as I moved to Lupin, Bellatrix entered, cackling.

She immediately went for Evans; she was the mudblood.

"I'm done with the mud blood, you attend to Hollander and Potter."

She went to Hollander first, and tortured her. Tortured her so badly, it was difficult to even look at. Even worse, she'd been cackling through it all. As I moved to Potter, I asked her to stop. She didn't. I asked again.

"Stop it, Bellatrix, that's enough." no response.

"Stop it, Bella." Nope.

"Bellatrix, please, you're going to hurt her more than necessary," My pleas rang out between all the Gryffindors'.

"Enough, Bellatrix!" I exclaimed. I just knew that Richard had taken over; that was clear by the looks everyone was giving me. "Thats... Enough. Just, go out, please."

And she did. Without a question.

.....

It had been after 4 days of the Gryffindprs as our prisoners, when there was a break in at the Manor, obviously by the Order.

I rushed to the dungeons; however on the final stair, collided with the Gryffindors. Immediately casting a shield spell around myself, I took a step back.

I then removed the spell.

"You can go," they looked suspicious, so I dropped my wand. "I... Go. Just be careful, Potter. Prophecies... " I decided not to tell them too much, as even I wasn't fully sure of what was happening.

"Be careful." and with that, I stepped back, making way for them.

As the group walked past me, wands aimed, still suspicious, I called after them. Also, could you, maybe... Make me pass out?"

.....

It had been fifteen years. Fifteen years since I let those Gryffindors elope, most of whom had dreadful fates. Fifteen years since I'd seen Lupin.

You see, maybe it was just destiny being cruel, but up until Voldemort's (yes, I call him that now, I'm brave) downfall, me and Lupin had never crossed paths. After the Potters' deaths, I'd left the country, becoming a wanderer. I changed my name and past each time; sometimes I was a hippie, sometimes a businesswoman, sometimes a struggling artist.

But now, as I set foot inside Grimmauld Place, my nerves wracked again. I would see Lupin, and maybe he wouldn't even remember me.

But I, however, was still nervous. I was about to meet the boy who lived. I was about to meet Black. I was about to meet all those Order members I said I didn't trust. And I was going to be helping them.

The papers in my hands were quite important.

I knocked on the door. A chubby woman opened the door; that was probably Molly Weasley.

Her face fell. "You're here... The meeting got over-"

"I'm aware. I was... A bit busy," I held up the papers. "Could you please...?" I motioned inside, and Molly moved aside. I walked in, following the path I knew led to the dining room.

"Dear, they're having-"

"Dinner? That won't be a problem." I smiled at Molly as I turned the knob of the dining room's door, and all eyes turned to me. Among them was a pair of light greenish-blue eyes that I'd craved to see, bit I couldn't meet.

I raised an eyebrow. "Well, isn't this a pretty sight." I smiled a sickeningly sweet smile and entered, everyone still gazing at me. Black was clutching his fork so hard his knuckles were going white, while. molly still looked troubled.

"Greetings," I scanned the crowd, "Gryffindors." my eyebrows jumped. I dropped the papers right in front of Black.

"Here is your information. You're welcome. I now must leave, because I have work to att-"

"Who are you?"

"-end. You should never interrupt," I said, looking pointedly at Potter Jr. "Even if you are the boy who lived."

"I-" Potter was cut off by Black.

"He asked something, why don't you answer him?" Ugh. And they say Slytherins are evil.

I thought a bit. Then, "I'm the reason you even got the chance to be born." The Potter boy looked confused, but before he could ask, someone spoke up. Go to hell, Black.

"How so?"

"Could you not interrupt in between? That's what I just told the boy, but then again, you are excruciatingly dumb."

"I'm not dumb. I just pointed something out. And you're one to say; Miss-I'm-So-Edgy."

"Oh well, Mister-I'm-an-adult-but-still-a-child, you could maybe not have interrupted in between of a conversation?"

"You're so difficult."

"You're dense, and a literal man-child."

"You're evil, and nutty."

"You're annoying, and a pathetic drama queen. I'm a hundred percent sure that when you met your Godson, who thought you were a murderer, and confronted that rat, you said something along the lines of," I cleared my throat, " 'Only one shall die tonight.' and then went off behaving immature."

Judging by the look on his face, I was right.

I smirked, and then, to Potter, said, "Potter Jr., there was once a time when your parents, along with a few dear friends were locked up in the dungeons of the Malfoy Manor, and I was tasked with taking care-torturing them, if you will," I raised an eyebrow, "And your father had been dumb enough to have se-"

"Stop-"

"-Could you please not interrupt me, Black?" I said, frustrated.

"Well, you were about to-"

"-Tell the boy that his parents had sex? Well, Black, he has to be really thick to not know about that-"

"-He's just 15-!"

"-just 15?" I scoffed. "You had bedded half the Hogwarts population by the age of fifteen, Black, and then some." That made him shut up. I smirked again. He narrowed his eyes.

"so, mini Potter, your mum was dumb enough to have sex and get pregnant amidst a war, and she was pregnant in the Malfoy dungeons. And do you know what? If I'd tortured your mum, you would have lost your life in her womb. There would be no 'The Boy Who Lived', and Voldemort would've reigned. But I didn't. Because there were prophecies involved, and spirits, too."

I knew that was way too vague and cryptic, but that was all I said.

And as I turned and left the room to apparate away I could faintly hear the conversations inside.

"Who was she?"

Lupin sighed. "My ex-girlfriend."

I smiled, and then was engulfed in smoke as I apparated away.

[fizzingwizard]

Tumblr sucks so I had to post this twice but you should still read it because I had a lot of fun writing it xD Yamato is so easy to tease omg

Today’s Digimon Adventure: 2020 episode is entitled, “Time To Bring Back Visual Kei Bands,” because that’s pretty much where WereGarurumon belongs. I know what you’re thinking, he’s a wolf man in jeans with a kind of grungy rock n roll cowboy theme, how is that visual kei?

My friend, it’s all about the NAILS.

Those perfectly manicured, PINK freaking nails.

Tto start I’ll say this episode lowers the tension significantly compared to previous ones. That’s to be expected, and doesn’t mean it’s boring. It does a lot - it lets us confirm some things about Yamato, and a couple things about Sora and Jou in relation to him as well. It is otherwise a carbon copy of episode 8 in terms of story arc. More below as usual

So this ep is Yamato/Sora/Jou main inside a Taichi/Koushirou/Mimi sandwich.

We are starting to see more of Mimi Herself, complaining and whining about the unfairness of it all. Taichi appears to have scaled this wall by himself and Mimi’s like “YOU HAVE TOO MUCH ENERGY, YOU’LL PUT THE ENERGIZER BUNNY OUT OF A JOB, DO YOU WANT TO BE RESPONSIBLE FOR HOMELESS BUNNIES?? HE HAS TO PROVIDE FOR HIS FAMILY”

Adding salt to the wound, Koushirou then zips up the wall like this..

zip!

The good thing about Mimi is, though she’s emotional, it’s easy to lift her spirits. She’s very in the moment. And fortunate that she has a partner who is both very patient and useful in these circumstances.

wheeeeee

Meanwhile the slightly-less-energetic group has put their heads together and decided to fly first class to their destination. I would ask where they got the basket but I’m sure I’d get the same answer as Taichi’s raft from episode 4 and Jou’s pergola from episode 7: these kids are extremely good at woodcraft and speedy

(or maybe Sora just had a giant basket in her bag, which we all understand by now is really a Bag of Holding)

While airborne they are Attacked!!! by SandYanmamon and not one but two tornadoes.

Jou: Wonderful!

(for a hot second there I mistook this for Birdramon’s line and was like “??? birdramon’s unusually sarcastic today” but of course it’s the king of morbid humor kido jou)

These Kyaromon appear out of nowhere to show off their dramatic eyeliner. Work it baby

Just when you think SandYanmamon and TWO FREAKING TORNADOES are enough, turns out there’s another threat lurking below the sand for the sole purpose of reminding us yet again “Pokemon this is not!”

SandYanmamon: Aaaaaaahhh nooooooooo i had so much living left to doooo heeeelp mommyyyyyyyyy

NOT IN FRONT OF THE CHILD YOU MONSTER!!!

Cool-headed Yamato figures out that the new monster is able to track their movements under the sand. He sends the others away while he stays behind to hold off the bad guy.

The Kyaromon lead them to a cave where they meet...

ewww uuggghh noooo I hate them aaaahh make it stoppp

and also Neemon! and I’m just going to assume this is a parallel universe version of Frontier’s Neemon because it tickles me to think this is what he actually sounds and acts like and is just riding Bokumon out of pure spite

also Bearmon’s cap says “Bears.” Not bear, bears plural. I believe he’s an outcast former member of the Gummy Bears.

The Labramon look like Rainbow Brite rejects

Pictured above: First lovers’ tiff!

Neemon doesn’t know about the holy Digimon and tells the kids he is leading his group of perfectly helpless Digimon across the monster-infested desert because of the dark forces taking over everywhere. They will seek asylum with Leomon! We got our first mention of Leomon! Quick, cast your bets, how long till he dies? My guess is sooner rather than later because this seems like the kind of show that likes to kill your darlings.

Sora takes one look at this pathetic group and goes “We must go with them to protect them!” conveniently forgetting that she just got her ass kicked, but hey it’s the thought that counts

Yamato is quick to disagree.

Yamato: Did you forget that I stayed behind while you RAN AWAY? When you say let’s protect them, you mean I’M gonna be protecting them, right? RIGHT? That’s what you mean RIGHT??

(he thinks, but doesn’t say. that wouldn’t be Cool)

Yamato doesn’t want to lose sight of their mission, which is to fix things in their home world. He’s already at his limit hanging out with other human children who don’t know what they’re doing, he doesn’t want to be slowed down by freaking Bearmon. Wishy-washy Jou is like “Eh, either way sounds like death and torment to me, so...”

The interesting thing to me here is that no one’s upset. A bit surprised, I think, but Sora just stands her ground, Jou wibbles but eventually gets pumped up enough by Gomamon to decide to help her. They don’t even try much to stop Yamato from leaving which I think is what surprised me the most. I would have expected at least a vibe more like “We shouldn’t split up!” or something. If Taichi were there, maybe we’d have seen more conflict... but I’m really not sure. So far, conflict among the kids has been very low key. Even last week, the first time we saw Taichi and Yamato butt heads, to the other kids it was shocking but to a 99 Adventurer like me it was barely a kerfluffle xP

Well, anyway, the result is Sora and Jou stay with Neemon, and Yamato goes off on his own, and there is surprisingly little bad blood about any of this. They are all just getting to know each other though, so maybe that loyalty’s not quite expected yet.

Same as episode 8, Gabumon hints that there’s more to Yamato’s behavior than he lets on. He’s not just coldly abandoning his friends... except that he totally is >_> (As an adult, I don’t exactly think Yamato is wrong. I’d be more likely to agree with him than the others probably xP But these are children in a show for children, so Protecting Others and Following Your Feelings get a boost over cool rationale.)

Gabumon says Yamato should open up to the other kids. YEAH RIGHT. Yamato says “You’re all I need.” AWWWWWWWWW this wont backfire on them in a way that will wrench out my heart and tear it to a million pieces in forty episodes or so, no way

Ikkakumon becomes a Sand Boat while Birdramon covers the sky. At first I was like “hey! not a bad plan!” If they can help Neemon’s group get across the desert faster, it will be a big help even if they can’t take them further.

Of course, first they have to deal with the SandYanmamon.

Ikkakumon: Why does everyone go straight for the horn!?!

Oh, and also the two tornadoes.

Sora, standing on Birdramon’s leg: don’t look down don’t look down don’t look down

And now Sora’s on fire! That is it, I’m headcanoning it that the kids are basically invulnerable as long as they are touching their partners. THERE’S JUST NO EXPLAINING THIS

The flaming elementary school child does well until her partner is snared by the same monster from before, who turns out to be Scorpiomon. But this ain’t your momma’s Scorpimon from 99 Adventure, who was really Anomalocarimon but that was too hard to expect kids to say. This is the real Scorpiomon who is much scarier.

All of a sudden, from above!

ACTION LINES!!!

Yamato and Garurumon, both physically incapable of doing anything normally when there is a cooler, more awesome method available, drop into the battle from the air and start burning shit up.

They stand, bodies licked by blue flame, piercing eyes bright with the fever of battle, the sound of swooning fan girls echoing into the night

Garurumon does his best but Scorpiomon is a level higher so, duh, he doesn’t stand much of a chance. WHAT WILL OUR HERO DO.

Well, first, same as in episode 8, he flashes back to each of his newfound friends, gaining strength from their memory. Yamato is so sentimental it Hurts

Then his mind flashes to someone else...

... his favorite bobble head doll. No wait, that’s his round-headed baby brother, Charlie Brown.

he is infused with the power of Friendship!!!!!!!

Garurumon: What... is this feeling... so passionate... so... powerful... FFFRIENDSHIPPPPPP IS MAGIC

He then evolves into a brony into a furry in the coolest freakiest way he knows how.

WereGarurumon is basically everything the creators thought little boys like besides dinosaurs (because Taichi’s got that one covered) thrown together to make the ultimate little boy dream action figure: wolves, leather, hardware, piercings, brass knuckles, belts, skulls, scars, dog tags, and fuchsia stiletto nails

Ikkakumon: Sugoi... so shiny... oooh... blinding me...

WereGarurumon kicks Scorpiomon’s ass, it’s a cool battle scenes complete with kicks so fast his foot appears detached from his body. He then gives Yamato thumbs up.

Yamato: With nails like those the brass knuckles are kind of overkill...

Yamato dodges apologizing for going off on his own like that by saying he only came back because it’d be useful to him to have the others around as a decoy. Jou’s like FRIGGING DECOYS AGAIN??

But his dedication to remaining cool and aloof falters and he ends up telling them he’s just extra pressured to get their mission handled because he has a little brother, Takeru, living in Tokyo who is probably very scared stuck in the blackout. Sora and Jou are like “Oh, that makes sense, that’s why you’re so high strung.” They don’t point out the obvious, which is that they also have families affected by the blackout... >_>

Jou passionately thanks Yamato for being so forthcoming so early in the season and looks forward to telling Yamato about himself in the future.

The others: “But we already know all about you.”

Jou: “But HE doesn’t!”

xD look forward to it, Yamato...

It’s episode 11 and Yamato can already smile like this... I had to cap it.

Yamato: Ahh, I’m finally getting used to wearing this purple shirt. Still can’t get quite suppress the urge to cut off the sleeves though...

The other slice of bread completes our sandwich when we shoot back briefly to Taichi/Koushirou/Mimi’s group.

Taichi gets annoyed with Koushirou for the first time because of how much time Koushirou spends taking pictures of everything. Koushirou is that kid on the museum field trip who holds up the entire class reading every last word on the exhibit plaques while everyone else groans ‘cmon dude I wanna get to the dinosaurs before we go extinct too!!’

fyi I, Fizzing Wizard, was and am that slow ass kid

Mimi’s even more impatient than Taichi and in her boredom she starts touching things, because she’s never seen The Mummy.

IT’S A TRAP!!!

lol

Next ep’s trailer includes:

Andromon!!!

And Lillymon!!!

Oprah voice: You get a Perfect level and you get a Perfect level and you get a Perfect level and you get-

Yeah so, clearly everyone’s gonna get to Perfect level much quicker than in 99 Adventure, which again, it’s good they’re mixing things up. The question is, what’s next? My guess is down the line everyone will get Ultimate levels and of course, at some point we’ll see Omegamon. I wonder if there will be other Jogress possibilities? Just because it’s hard to believe evolution will stop being important, but if they’re going through both Adult and Perfect so fast it doesn’t leave much left for the rest of the season...

I give this ep a 5.5/10 for being basically a remix of episode 8, and I’m looking forward to getting new stuff for Yamato eventually. Next week’s looking to be Mimi-centric if Lillymon’s any indication, but I’ve got my fingers crossed for a few Taishiro moments anyway.