#I'm still white so if there is something I probably won't be able to see

[aromanticannibal]

I saw someone complain about how apparently raine was created only to be eda's love interest and op was like hoho ofc the only nb character is a love interest with no character development and like.

I'm sorry I am physically unable to see this as a problem. raine is good representation, like they just are. not ever queer character needs to be incredibly important to the plot to be good rep? also it's not like raine is a side character that was thrown in in the back for cheap rep, they have an important role for eda's developpment and theyre literally the head of the rebellion against belos (aside from eda who rebels against everything). and THEY'RE NOT THE ONLY NON BINARY CHARACTER EITHER?? masha I think is their name is nb too (and they are a very very side character but we already have raine it's not like they're the only nb character again) and the collector uses he/they pronouns im pretty sure. good lord.

I want to bang my head against a wall. how do you Live.

it reminds me of when I saw someone saying TOH is shit queer representation and racist (??? somehow) because it doesn't do enough? bro? the main character is a neurodivergent OPENLY bisexual black latina girl. what do you want MORE. she's in a relationship with her lesbian girlfriend, the world girlfriend was said, trey kiss and hold hand. They put so much diversity in this show it got fucking canceled.

[lovverletters]

Been waiting for this lol

*Ahem* I introduced Yan husband! Finally, after years of waiting and stalking and murdering (if that's cool), he finally has you! He worships you every day and reminds you how lucky he is, and he tells everyone how he's so lucky and how you're perfect!

Yandere! Husband

A/N : Thanks for requesting! Hope you like it, 🌻 anon!

T/W : soft yandere, stalking, implied murder, non consentual photographing, stealing items, this is late asf

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

"Honey, do you remember how we met?"

[Name] asked their husband of 6 years as they flip through their old journal, reliving their countless embarrassing, bitter and sweet memories of their youth.

They had been sifting through the storage closet earlier when they stumbled upon a box containing their old belongings dating back from when they were still studying in high school until they got married to their husband, Derek.

"Of course I do, it's the day I met the love of my life" He says with a smile on his face.

"Psh.. you're so cheesy Derry" [Name] swatted their husband's shoulder playfully, flustered at his words.

"What? I'm being honest. Every moment spent with you is unforgettable" A dark glint was present in his eyes as he uttered his reply.

How could he ever forget the day he met his beloved [Name]?

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Derek had been in his senior year of high school by the time he met [Name].

They had only recently moved to his hometown and enroll to the high school. He could still recall their timid expression as they asked him for directions, at that moment Derek brushed off the encounter as a one time thing.

He was graduating and they were a junior, he'll probably won't see them again.

Until Derek started to bump into [Name] more frequently albeit it being only a coincidence. [Name] would notice his presence and greeted him with a small wave everytime they pass by each other in the hallway or waiting in line during lunch.

Eventually, he finally spoke to them one day. It felt odd for him to be around them yet never uttering a single word.

It was the best decision he ever made.

"Uhㅡhey" Derek cursed himself inwardly for choking on his words.

[Name]'s eyes widened, spooked to hear him talk to them. They mustered up a crooked smile after recollecting themself to reply to him.

"Derek, hi. Sorry, I was on my phone that I didn't notice you behind me"

From then, something shifted in him. Their conversation faded into a white noise in his ears as his thoughts became fixated in [Name]'s voice.

He had heard them speak before but it felt different when they're talking to him. Their voice engraving itself into his brain like an earworm.

It doesn't stop there, their interaction expanded as their friendship blooms. [Name] would seek him out on subjects they were struggling on despite having other student who would eagerly help themㅡ his heart swells with pride knowing that it's him whom they're relying on.

Derek would also began inviting them to his football practice as an excuse to invite them for an ice cream laterㅡ and to also flex his athleticism in hopes of receiving praises from them.

He's not stupid, he knows that he likes themㅡ loves them. Maybe he had been a fool for underestimating his feelings for them.

It had been an unfortunate timing that he had never been able to confess to [Name] as his graduation passes and he was wrapped up with preparing for his higher education.

Those times away and distance from [Name] were hellish. Derek felt his sanity wanning with each day passes and his thoughts were constantly thinking of [Name].

What are they doing, Where they're at, Who they're withㅡ They don't have a partner don't they? They didn't replace me did they?? I'll kill that bastard who took my placㅡ

He finally cracked after stalking through their social media page and seeing the other student having grown close to them within months of his absence.

Derek decided that he's had enough sitting around in the sidelines with an aching heart. He'll make his move and insured that [Name] will be his.

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

"I then drove back to back from my university to yours for years until I finally had enough and decided to ask you to move in with me" He traced the picture they took on their first day moving into his house.

[Name] snorted and pinched their husband's cheek, laughing as they teased him.

"Silly, you, I can't believe you rent out an apartment just because you can't be away from me anymore"

Derek huffed and flipped to the next page, tracing [Name]'s photo as he always does everytime he sees it.

"I love you too much, it hurt's to not be around your presence. I feel like I was going to die with each hour passes without you"

"Mmh sure, how come you never died after leaving me everytime you have to go back?" [Name] attempt at poking at their husband again.

Only to receive an unexpected answer.

"I never left" Derek uttered. No elaboration whatsoever.

Silence follows after as the cogs in [Name]'s brain turn to process what their sweet stupid dork husband just said.

Derek closed the journal shut and stood up, planting a kiss on their temple.

"I'm going to prepare dinner now. You better come and eat when I call you before continuing your clean up! No buts and ifs, okay love?" He gave them another kiss before disappearing into the kitchen.

Come to think of it, Derek had re-entered their life at a time where their newfound friend tragically passed in a mysterious incident. [Name] had been devastated and clung to Derek for comfort before it eventually delved into them being in a relationship with the man.

Everything was perfect. Too perfect if they had to be honest. It's almost as if he had planned it.

They shook off the thoughts and continued sorting through the old boxes when one of the contents surprised them.

It was the items they thought they had lost or threw away. But how could Derek have it when they had lost it before they begun dating. The polaroids were also odd as Derek weren't around during their senior year when it was takenㅡ if the dates marked was correct.

"Honey! Dinner's ready"

They'll ask him about it later.

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

[imastrangeone98]

Homecoming

(A/N: boothill my cyborg my love my life my everything-)

WARNING: fem!reader, SMUT SMUT FRESH OFF THE PLATE MINORS GTFO ILL WHOOP YO BUTTS, probably ooc!boothill but whatever it's fine lmao, his exact birth name isn't known so I didn't put a name for him- if there is one I'll replace it; but I found some X art that called his baby girl "cherry" and I really liked it so I'll use that, and way too much plot as always

"Well, hello there! What'cha lookin' at, sweetie?" You bend down to the little girl's eye level, peeking at where the child's gaze is locked on, then smiling in understanding. "You like those ones? They're moon lilies; they're flowers that are really special!"

"Pe... shal?" the little girl babbles, and you laugh.

"Yes, dear. Special." You pluck one of the flowers, beautiful with light blue petals and golden pollen, and offer it to her. "They mean loyalty, and undying devotion, because they only grow in places they like, and they won't grow anywhere else."

"Loya..." the girl mumbles. You chuckle and pick her up, carefully tucking the flower behind her ear.

"Now, where's your mama? Or your papa? I'm sure they're worried sick about-"

"Cherry! Sweet pea, where ya at?!"

Your ears prick, and the girl giggles and claps at the sound. "Well, I guess we found him."

You maneuver through the crowd until you find the source of the call: a man, tall and lean, with flowing black-and-white hair and piercing gray eyes.

Oh. He's beautiful.

The little girl squeals with delight at the sight of her father, and his head whips towards your direction. He sprints over to you and takes the child in his arms, pressing her close to his chest.

"There ya are, ya little rascal! What'd I tell ya about runnin' off?! Ya had me worried sick!" He kisses her forehead, then looks at you. "Thanks, I would've lost her without ya."

"Of course!" You wave it off, hoping he doesn't notice your hot cheeks. "I will say, she has good taste in flowers! If you'd ever like to buy a bouquet, you should bring her along!"

"Flowers? Oh..." He looks at his daughter, finally noticing the moon lily tucked in her hair. His cheeks flush a bright red. "Aw, man, I'm sorry for the trouble, I can pay for it-"

"Oh, don't worry about it, it's on the house! But I do hope this won't be the last time I see her!" You wave at her, and she giggles.

The man laughs at that. "I'm sure she wouldn't mind." He then stretches out his hand to you. "I'm [???]."

"(Y/N)."

He repeats your name slowly, thoughtfully, then smirks. "Guess I'll be seeing you around, lady."

"I'll be looking forward to it, cowboy."

Your eyes crack open.

Instead of a bustling marketplace, you're in a small shack in the middle of nowhere.

Just a memory.

You rise, body aching with fatigue and heartache, but you force yourself to push it to the side.

There's work to be done. You grab your phone and send a message.

ML: The USB is ready. I'll leave it at the usual place.

BH: ca nt maek it cme her

You stare at the coordinates your contact sent you with a groan.

You don't do face-to-face, too much risk. And the information you collected is time-sensitive; you're not sure if you'll be able to make it to the abandoned planet of Mavorosa in time for it to still be valuable, and your spaceship isn't one meant for such great lengths.

But this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity: Oswaldo Schneider is likely to make an appearance at the upcoming IPC Centennial Gala, and BH has proven themself capable of terminating that sick bastard.

You know you're not strong enough to do it yourself, but BH is. And anyone capable of taking down the son of a bitch who destroyed your home, your planet, your lover, is worthy of your trust.

So you bite your lip and bear it. You'll work something out.

ML: ok. I'll be there tomorrow @ 18:00, don't be late.

BH: k

You roll your eyes. Never mind.

With a heavy sigh, you carefully take out the picture/ only one you have of him. With your little girl in one arm and the other wrapped around your waist, he stares back at you with a grin. Bright, beautiful, alive.

"Don't worry, darling," you whisper, tracing the lines of his cheek and hair on the photograph. "We're one step closer to our goal. That bastard's a dead man walking now that we got BH on the case. They're good; strong and capable, I know they'll get the job done for us."

You gently press your lips over his image. And for a brief moment, you let yourself pretend that the paper is a good replacement for his callous skin.

"Once everything's done, I'll go over and join you and our girl. We'll be together again, I'm sure."

He smiles eternally at you, and you find yourself smiling back.

"Wish me luck, darling. Help me be strong."

[...]

His little girl adores you.

Each time he comes by the market, the first thing she whines for is to see the flowers. And you always indulge her, lifting her in your arms so you can show her all the pretty little blooms you have in your small cart. You give names to each one, tell her what they mean as though she understands you.

And you laugh. And he finds himself thinking that his little girl is a good judge of character, because he's starting to adore you too.

And it's becoming obvious, since Nick and Gray give him the occasional nab and jab, wondering out loud when they're going to see him get married and give them another grandchild. His siblings too, always cackling and yapping about how he might be the first to hang up his boots and settle down.

He rolls his eyes, but he's not too displeased by the idea. You're soft and sweet, with a kick of spice to match- the thought of settling down with you and Cherry on the farm is surprisingly sweet.

So he leaves Cherry to her loving grandparents and invites you out on a moonlit stroll through the hillside meadow, the one with the perfect view of the blooming moon lilies and the spring lake that reflects the starry night sky.

"I've never been here before," you gasp in awe, eyes aglow as you absorb the scenery. "It's beautiful."

"Yeah," he murmurs, gaze fixated on you and the moonlight in your eyes. "You are."

You turn your head, and your eyes meet. "Huh? Did you say something?"

"N- nothin'!" He faces the lake, and hopes you don't notice his red cheeks. "Said nothin'."

You laugh, and god, he melts at the sound. Then you rub the back of your head, and turn away, blushing. "I... I think you're very beautiful too."

His brain short-circuits. "Pretty... you think I'm..." Then he gasps dramatically. "So you did hear that! You sneaky mouse!"

He playfully tackles you, and you both laugh and chortle as you wrestle one another to the ground. But then he opens his eyes and finds himself on top of you, hands intertwined, faces so close he can feel your breath, smell your moon lily scent.

The moonlight bathes you in silver, and god, he wants to kiss you. He wants to kiss you senseless, run his callous hands on your soft skin, wrap your plush thighs around his hips and-

"Can I...?" he whispers, weak and wanting. "Just... just a taste, I swear..."

You stare up at him, eyes so big and wide that he swears the moon itself disappeared to light up your gaze, that he doesn't notice you untangling your hands from his until you wrap your arms around his neck.

"Just a taste, cowboy?" you tease. "You don't wanna try... anything else?"

You raise your hips and grind on his pelvis, and he moans and kisses you, hard.

Eager hands dart across skin, tearing off clothes. He runs his hands over your plush tummy, hooks your thighs around his hips and moans when he finally enters you.

He'll never forget this moment. Even if he were to die and be reborn, he'll never forget you. Your pleasured moans as he slides himself inside your tight heat, your teary smile as you open your arms to let him press his chest against yours, your starry eyes so full of love and desire that mirror his own.

You make love for hours, the stars and moon lilies your only witnesses.

"-hill. Boothill."

His eyes crack open.

Instead of a blooming moon lily meadow, he's in the underground repair shop.

Just a memory.

He rises with a groan, mechanical joints creaking from the lack of use. "Done already? I was havin' quite the nice dream."

The mechanic rolls her eyes. "Yeah, I can tell. Anyway, speed upgrades are done; the rest of your body is the same- sensory receptors are good, memory chip still intact, et cetera."

She rambles on and on; he's used to tuning her out at this point. As long as his body is in peak condition, he doesn't need to know what else extra she's stacked on him.

"-and the dick. Make sure to test it out at some point."

He blinks. "What'd ya say?"

She groans. "The dick, Boothill. Make sure to test it."

"What dick are ya talking about? If you're trying to say I'm a piece of shi-"

"I added a dick attachment to your body, dumbass." She points towards his crotch. "I had an extra one that I really need to get rid of, so I'm giving it to you. Use it, rip it up and toss it, I don't care- just get it off my back!"

And with no further explanation, the mechanic practically throws him out the store, slamming the door with extra ferocity. Boothill lies on the ground, blinking a few times in shock, before checking his pants, and lo and behold, there is a silicone dick attachment. Sensory receptors and everything, he hisses when he pokes lightly at it, the wires in his body jittering at the unfamiliar sensation.

Doe eyes and a teary smile flash in the back of his mind.

He suddenly jumps to his feet with a vengeance and slams on the door. "You cheating, deceitful shirt-bag! Take this fudging thing off right now! You hear me, woman?! Take this shirt off right now!"

He's no doubt starting a commotion, a crowd drawing in to witness his rage-induced ranting and raving. But then his phone dings, and he's forced to put a pin in it, taking out the shitty device to hear the alarm: Meeting with ML @ 18:00! Meeting with ML @ 18:00! Be there or be square!

Ah, shit.

He can't miss this meeting, not even to blow a hole right between that shitty mechanic's eyebrows. ML is too valuable to lose, having provided him with incredibly detailed information on Oswaldo Schneider and the IPC time and again. Almost as if they have an agenda against that sick bastard as well.

Well. The enemy of an enemy is a friend, right? He'll take what he can get. And if they end up turning their back, well, he's sure his bullet is faster than their legs.

So he leans to the door, whispers a deadly "I'll be back for you, baby," and dashes to his spaceship to head over to Mavorosa.

And as he's prepping for flight, he looks over at the picture on the dashboard.

It's the only one Boothill has of you. The three of you, together- him holding little Cherry in one arm and your waist in the other, you wrapping your arms around him and your baby girl with your sweet smile and moon lily eyes.

He brushes a metal fingertip over your face.

"Just hang in there, moon lily," he whispers, a clump in his throat. "We're one step closer; ML's got some good intel on the son of a nice lady that destroyed our planet- our home. That destroyed you."

Boothill lost the ability to cry long ago, but the corners of his eyes itch all the same. He gnaws on his lip so hard, drops of blue blood trickle down his chin.

"I swear to you, darlin', I'm gonna get our revenge against that beautiful bench. He'll wish he never set his filthy sights on our home once I'm through with him." He gently picks up the photo and presses his lips to your image. "And then I'll come home. To Cherry, Nick and Gray, my siblings. I'll come home to you. We'll get started on that house we talked about, maybe some runts so Cherry can be a big sister..."

He swallows, then carefully puts the photo back on the dashboard. The lump doesn't disappear, so once the spaceship is cruising through the stars to Mavorosa, he sets it on autopilot and descends into the belly to go to his chest of valuables. He opens it up and delicately takes out the moon lily crown.

The one he was working on for you, a promise of his undying devotion. Before the world exploded in fire and ash. Before the IPC decimated his family, the moon lily meadow... decimated you.

He closes his eyes and raises it to his face. Even preserved, the petals are still soft to the touch, and smell just as lovely.

Just like you.

He won't let your death be in vain. He won't.

The lump in his metal chest morphs into rage.

Boothill opens his eyes.

[...]

If not for the Stellaron, Mavorosa would be a wonderful planet. A once lively city now stands abandoned, its skyscrapers and glass structures being embraced by nature once again.

You stand on the rooftop, mask and voice synthesizer on, fidgeting with the USB, simply observing everything when-

"So this is what you look like. I thought you'd be bigger," a male voice calls behind you.

Your body freezes. That voice... it sounds like...

No. You must be wrong. Maybe you've been so lonely that every male voice just starts to sound like your deceased lover.

"I thought you'd be here earlier," you reply with your warped voice. "Time is precious to you and me both, BH."

"Sorry, had to wrap up some... personal stuff on my end. I'm here now, ain't I?" The oh-so-familiar yet distant voice chuckles. "Well. Business ain't gonna settle itself. Where's the drive?"

"Where's the payment? We both know I don't work free."

He huffs. "Yeah, yeah, I hear ya. Don't worry, I got your cash. Just fork over the drive, no need to make things difficult, not after everything, yeah? Haven't I earned your trust by now?"

"You realize how difficult face-to-face is? It takes a substantial amount of effort to get this intel, not to mention the possibility of being-" You turn around in your exasperation-

And you drop the USB.

Tall and metal. Flowing black-and-white hair. Piercing gray-and-red eyes. Sharp teeth.

"Y'know, I've always wanted to be a gunslinger, just like Nick," [???] cackled, whipping out his revolver and making dramatic poses with it. "Maybe be one of those boothills of legend."

"I'd rather you not," you murmured as you brushed off some dirt off of his shirt. "Those boothills always died on their feet. I'd rather you not die at all."

He softened, and with a smile, he put down his gun and sidled up to you, bringing you in his embrace, warm and strong. You breathed in his comforting scent and sighed happily.

"Don't you worry about that, hun." He kissed your cheek, then square on your mouth. "I ain't goin' nowhere. You can't get rid of me that easy!"

BH. Boothill.

How could you not notice earlier?

Your mouth dries. You can't move a muscle.

It's him. Mechanical, but very much alive.

"Hey, watch the merchandise!" he hisses, pointing at the fallen USB. "I need that, don't you forget it!"

"How are you..." you weakly gasp, then you grab the USB. "Here. Take it. Forget the money."

You slide it over to him, and he stops it with his foot. But his eyes narrow at you.

"Whaddaya mean, 'How are you,' huh?" He walks towards you, slow and leisurely, like a coyote cornering its helpless prey. "You say that like you're shocked I'm still around. What'd ya do, huh? Sell me off to the IPC?"

"No!" you cry, shocked. "I would never-!"

"Why so jittery, partner? What are you hiding?" He smirks, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "How about a show of trust, huh? You take off that cute little mask of yours, I don't shoot you dead, and we keep our little arrangement goin'. Sound fair?"

You turn around, eyes searching for an escape route.

Aeons above, you need to leave. You can't show him your face. You can't remind him of everything he lost, the people he couldn't save. You can't hurt him any more than you already have. You're afraid. You want to hide. You're selfish. You want to tell him. You're in love.

You want to die. You want the ground to swallow you alive. You want to hole away in your shack and wallow in your grief, descend into a spiral of what-ifs: what if you tried harder to find him? What if you searched the whole IPC ship you snuck on trying to resolve things peacefully until you found him? What if you ran out earlier and tried to bring him with you? What if, what if, what if-

"Now that you got some measure of my grit," he whispers in your ear, suddenly standing behind you, "I'm sure you know how this ends, yeah? C'mon now, take it off."

You pant heavily, head dizzy with his close proximity- god, even with the metal, he still smells the same. "I- I can't-"

"Feelin' shy? Alright, I'll do it for you."

"No! Please, no!" You swat at his hands and try to break free of his iron grip, but he grabs you hard and pulls you against his chest.

He cackles, metallic and bitter. "And here I thought I finally had an ally, but no- you're just like the rest of 'em shirt-bags." He whips out his revolver and raises it to your head. "Take. It. Off. Now."

You want to cry. You don't want to hurt him.

Slowly, with trembling hands, you take off your mask...

And his gun falls to the floor.

Doe eyes. Soft cheeks. Scars. Floral scent.

"What made you wanna be a florist?" he asked you once, helping you water the rainbow roses. "They're pretty and all, don't get me wrong. But don't you want somethin' more exciting?"

"On the contrary, I think they're very exciting," you explained. "They all have their unique personality; some need lots of love and care, and others don't mind if you go missing for a week or two. There's flowers that only stay with you for so long, and there are others that will love you for as long as you'll let them."

He grunted. "Sounds like you'd do just fine without me."

"Oh, please." You put down your watering can and embraced him from behind. And just as planned, he melted at your touch. "Moon lilies love the moon, but they need the sun to grow. And that's exactly what you are to me."

"The moon?"

"The sun."

ML. Moon lily.

It's so obvious, how did he not realize it sooner?

He lets you go. You immediately stumble away from him, hands covering your face in shame.

Boothill has no lungs, yet he feels his chest collapse.

"(Y/N)?" he calls to you, weak and desperate. "Moon lily? That's really you, right?" He reaches out, hand shaking. But when he grazes your shoulder, you hunch further into yourself. "I- I'm sorry, I... I didn't mean to scare ya. Please..."

Boothill willingly let go of his humanity. But right here, right now, he wishes he still had his skin.

"Please, darlin'... turn around? Let me see you, please."

You shiver, tears spilling down your cheeks, and slap a hand over your mouth. You can't hurt him, you'll never hurt him. "I can't... I can't see you."

His body wants to collapse. He wants to grab you by your shoulders and kiss you senseless, look at you from head to toe and sing praises to Lan for protecting you and keeping you safe.

But you won't see him. You won't turn around.

"Why?" he whines, like a pleading child. "Why not?"

"Because I'm not the same anymore!" you sob. "I'm not your moon lily anymore! I don't want to remind you of everything you lost! I don't want to hurt you anymore! You don't know the things I've done, the blood I spilled, all to destroy the IPC!" You sink to the floor in despair, echoes of the dead haunting you, swarming your mind. "I can't bear to see you hate me for being alive when everyone else died. I already hate myself so much, hated myself because I couldn't save anyone else! I thought I lost you, but now I realize I didn't search for you at all! I didn't even try to find you, I..."

You cry and sob and scream. You pound the floor with your fists. You pull at your hair, your clothes, your skin, so hard that drops of blood water the cement.

Boothill's eyes itch with tears that will never spill. His chest burns with a profound grief that will never truly be his own.

"You think I don't feel that way about myself?" he finally whispers. Bravely, he takes a step closer to you. "From the moment the bombs fell, I was never the same. I changed too much to be that man you met at the market- hell, I don't even have the body anymore." He sits just behind you, close to touch but not close enough. "The blood I spilled would be enough to fill oceans. But I'm still here. I still remember everything. I still remember you." His hand, feather-light, brushes your arm. You don't pull away. "I thought I lost you. When I went back to the ranch and couldn't find anyone there, I thought you were one of the piles of ashes on the ground." He chokes as he speaks, but he pushes on. "I never hated myself more. I failed to save them; I failed to save you."

You shake your head, but he gently rests his head on your back, right between your shoulder blades. He breathes you in- dust, machine oil, and moon lilies.

You smell so alive.

"How could you think I'd ever hate you," he whimpers, "when there's no one I hate more than myself? No, sweetheart, I could never hate you. I never will. Nothing you do could ever make me hate you. So please, turn around..." He grabs a fistful of your shirt and tugs. "I'm begging you. Let me see your face, please."

Your heart breaks. You couldn't fathom how much he suffered, how lonely he must have felt, the self-loathing that coursed through his wires every time he looked in the mirror.

Just like you.

"Don't hate yourself," you sniffle, rubbing your eyes. "Nothing you do could ever make me hate you either. What happened wasn't your fault; you didn't know what the IPC was going to do until it happened."

He lets out a small huff. "I could easily say the same about you. It wasn't your fault either- neither of us could've known until it was too late."

You exhale shakily. "Do you really mean it? Not hating me?"

Boothill smiles. "Every word."

For a moment, you're afraid. What if he doesn't like what he sees? You know he's not a superficial man, but you're still not the sweet florist he remembers anymore.

You suck in a deep breath. He's not the same man you remember, but he's still your cowboy, your Boothill.

Slowly, you turn around, and...

Oh. His face is just how you remember. His beautiful silky hair, the red targets in his eyes still framed within familiar stormy gray. When you reach out with trembling hands to cup his smooth cheeks, he melts in your touch just how he always did.

And melt he does. He nearly moans at your soft touch, pressing his cheek into your palms to keep your focus on him. He drinks up every detail of your face and commits it to memory- your beautiful moony eyes and the dark circles under them, the faintest hint of a scar curling from the edge of your jawline into your neck, your soft hair that smells of moon lilies.

You're still you, the sweet florist he fell in love with all those years ago. And now you've returned to him, and this time, he'll never let you go.

He sits you on his lap and embraces you, nuzzling into the crook of your neck and savoring your scent. You wrap your legs around his waist and make yourself comfortable, admiring his metal body, tracing patterns into the steel.

"I love you," he whispers with a kiss to the corner of your mouth. "I never stopped loving you, not for one second."

"I'm sorry I didn't look for you," you confess. "But I kept you in my heart every day. Even when we weren't together, you were always a part of me."

"I'm here now." He pulls away to admire you, his thumb brushing your bottom lip as he gazes at you with what you could only describe as reverence. "I'm right here with you. I'm not leaving you ever again."

Boothill didn't realize how much his world lacked color until he kisses you, but now he swears he can see every color in the spectrum flash before his eyes. You taste just how he remembers, sweet and salty with your tears. When you pull away for air, he dives back in to reclaim your lips, hooking a hand around your neck to keep you in place.

He won't let you slip from his fingers again. And you clearly feel the same way, because you tangle your hands with his hair and tug him closer, pulling him on top of you.

"Please don't be a dream," you cry in his shoulder, and it damn near breaks his heart. "I don't want to wake up if it is."

"Darlin', those dreams are better off in Penacony; I'm right here. Does this," he kisses your cheek, "or this," he squeezes your ass and relishes in your squeal, "or this..." He grinds into you, and you gasp, squeezing his shoulders with a whimper. And fuck, maybe he was a bit too harsh with that mechanic, he should send her flowers or something, because your face contorted in shock and a hint of reawakened pleasure is a drug he will happily become addicted to. He nibbles on your ear and whispers, "Any of that feel like a dream to you?"

"...No." You stare at him, moon lily eyes abloom with hearts and love and fuck, he wants you, he needs you.

And your eyes are reflected in his, because you're so captivated by how the targets in his gaze morph into blood red hearts that drip with love and devotion. You want to give him everything, bring him under your skin and into your heart so you'll never be separated again.

"I love you." You smile and open your arms for him. "Let's never be apart again."

Boothill's brain short-circuits. He can only remember the minutiae of what happens next- tearing off your clothes, your hands running across his metallic chest, his sensors working in overdrive to let him process your touch, your smell, your taste, as he kisses, nibbles and sucks his way across the canvas of your body to reach your core.

But just as he's about to taste your liquid gold, you tug on his hair. He immediately moves up to your face, nuzzling into your neck to comfort you.

"What's wrong, moon lily? I'll be gentle, I promise," he reassures you, but you bite your lip and shake your head.

"I know. But I don't want that right now; I want you to fuck me."

You spread your legs, once again revealing your soaking pussy to his hungry eyes, and fuck, his mouth goes dry at the exquisite feast before him. And his new dick feels the same way, as the electricity in his body jolts it to life, straining against his pants.

He swallows. "Yeah, baby. I want you too, but I gotta prep ya, or it's gonna hurt."

"Don't care!" you whine, and on Lan's Arrow, you're so cute with your pouting and wailing. "I need you, Hillie, I need it, I need it-!"

Ah, fuck. He can't say no to you, and he won't start now.

So he rips off his pants, and after a few quick pumps of his new cock (yeah, he'll send some flowers to the mechanic as a thank-you), he grabs hold on your hips and thrusts forward.

You shriek at the burning sensation, scrambling for grip on his shoulders as he penetrates deeper and deeper. Fuck, it's been so long since you had sex of any kind, and it shows. You moan loudly, shamelessly, so sensitive to the buttons his cock presses perfectly against your walls, that you cum instantly when he bottoms out, hips meeting yours with a soft thud.

"Fuuudge," Boothill groans, each syllable drawn out in pleasure, "you're so tight, sugar~ I can't even move..."

His brain might just melt from the overload of sensations. Your pussy's so tight, so wet, he's damn sure he near ascended to aeonhood. And your face is so adorable when cumming, he makes sure to engrave every part of it into his neurochip and brush the hair out of your eyes, moving his hips in slow, shallow thrusts, guiding you out of the afterglow.

When you finally blink the stars out of your eyes, you see Boothill hovering above you, rubbing your cheek with hearts in his eyes.

"God, you're so fudgin' gorgeous." He grins, sharp teeth glinting in the dim light, and a shiver of excitement runs down your spine. "Think you got another for me?"

You whine, "Still sensi- AH!"

He immediately sets a vigorous pace, hips slamming against yours in a hypnotic rhythm. He fixates on your breasts, and leans over to take a hard nipple in his mouth to suck and lick and nibble. You squeal and pull on his hair. He bites your skin in retaliation.

"Easy, moon lily," he moans, quickly stifling it with a kiss. "Hold on to me."

He grabs under your arms and lifts you onto his lap. His cock sinks impossibly deeper inside you, the tip nudging at your cervix. With a shriek, you bite his neck to try and ease the discomfort, but it only excites him more. With a guttural groan, he thrusts up into your sopping hole, bouncing you up and down with rough hands to set an even rougher pace.

You're still so sensitive; too much, too fast, and his cock fits so snugly inside you that you're already spiraling towards another release. But you don't want to make that journey alone, you want Boothill beside you.

So you grab his face and devour his mouth, pressing your tongue against his to savor his metallic taste. He moans against your lips, hips stuttering in an effort to keep up with you.

"Wanna make you feel good," you pant heavily. You carefully slide up and down on his thick cock, head thrown back as it hits your sweet spot. "Wanna... wanna cum with you!"

"Y- you are, baby," he groans against your neck, each word punctuated with a deep thrust. "You're makin' me feel so- darn- good-"

You're so close, you can see the faintest glimmer of stars again. Or maybe that was the sparks from his body as it overworks to keep his sensors running, so he can keep feeling you, tasting you, fucking you.

"Hillie," you gasp when the stars start to overwhelm you. "Hillie, I-"

"I know, baby, let go, I'm right with ya." He kisses you, over and over, thrusts sloppy as he chases his high, sensors working overdrive, wires sparking to further push him over the edge. "I'm- fudge, fudge, fudge-!"

He chokes, and you both come undone together, chasing that relentless wave of pleasure side by side. Stars collide and burst in showers of gold and silver, and your strength all but fails you, so you collapse in Boothill's arms, rubbing your cheek on his cool chest.

He catches his breath, letting his sensors rest as he basks in that afterglow. His wires are probably fried after such an intense sensory overload, but he can't bring himself to give a damn. Not when you're sitting so pretty in his arms, eyes just barely able to stay open.

You're so cute when you're sleepy, it's hard to not bite your cheek like he used to do. But tonight, he'll be generous and resist the temptation; you need your rest.

He runs a hand through your hair, and he once again finds himself wishing he still had his skin. But he sets that aside, preferring to be lost in your sleepy smile instead.

"Love you, Hillie," you coo drowsily, head nodding off.

"I love you more, moon lily," he whispers back with a kiss to your forehead.

In a moment, he'll bring you on his spaceship and clean you up, then tuck you in the spare bunk next to his charging port. He'll have to look at that USB you painstakingly put together for him sooner or later.

But for now, right here, he's not going anywhere.

His moon lily came back to him.

Boothill has finally returned home.

[Post-Credit]

"What the actual hell is this..." the mechanic sighs as she stares at the large bouquet of blue flowers.

She wonders if she should toss them out before she notices the card.

Thanks for the added bonus, Doc! - BH & ML

Her eyebrows raise. The handwriting's too nice and legible to be that Galaxy Ranger's, so...

She chuckles. "I figured it'd come in handy sooner or later."

She sets the bouquet on her desk and continues on with her work.

--------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: holy shirtballs BOOOTHILL MY LOVE AAAAAAAHSHDHDBSK I LOVE HIM SO MUCH LIKE I NEVER LOVED A CHARACTER BEFORE

...if only he loved me back just the slightest, cuz I lost 50/50 and went hard pity to get him. But I did win his lightcone so I guess it's even...?

[glorystark]

Empty eyes | Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean doesn't take Charlie's death too well and because of the Mark of Cain affecting him, he tells you things that will regret.

Warnings: moc!Dean Winchester, Dean being a dick, minor mentions of injury, swearing, ANGST, major character's death

Pairing: Dean Winchester × reader

Featuring: Sam Winchester

Word count: 2,3k

We watched in agony as Charlie's body, wrapped around a white sheet, burned in the flames. This should never have happened to her kind soul. She died so we could save Dean. I couldn't help but feel guilty; my heart ached because I lost a friend, again. I knew Sam felt the same. We both asked Charlie for help with the Book of the Damned, and we both lied to Dean about the book being destroyed. Now it was too late to make things right. Memories flashed through my eyes, making me tear up. I remembered when she helped us with the Dick situation, or when I taught her some hunter-kind-of-tricks. How happy she was and wouldn't stop thanking me. She didn't deserve this, anyone but her.

“Charlie,” Sam started, grabbing my and probably Dean's attention. “We are gonna miss you. You're the best.” He stopped when his voice cracked, and now I was sure he felt far worse than me because looking back, he suggested not telling Dean about the Book of the Damned not being destroyed, which I didn't agree with at first. But seeing Dean, my Dean, slowly fade away right in front of my eyes changed my opinion. Maybe it was selfish, me and Sam both were. But we couldn't let Dean become something he fears, a Monster. We couldn't lose another person, another family member, but we didn't realize who we were putting in danger on this path.

“We love you, Charlie, and I'm so sorry,” I said, blinking through tears.

“Shut up,” Dean said coldly, making Sam and me look at him. “You got her killed. You don't get to apologize.” He continued.

“Dean-“ Sam started, but Dean cut him off.

“You too, you two are the reason she is dead,” he said, not taking his eyes off the flames.

“We were trying to help you,” I said, still looking at him.

“I didn't need help,” he said bitterly. "I told you to leave it alone.”

“What were we supposed to do, just watch you die?” Sam asked, not letting me be the only one receiving the cold tone from his older brother.

“The mark isn't gonna kill me.”

“Maybe not, but when it's done with you, you won't be you anymore,” I stated. “Dean, you're all we got. So of course we were gonna fight for you because that's what we do,” I said softly.

“Yeah, she's right, we had a shot-“ Sam was cut off again by Dean.

“Yeah, you had a shot. Charlie is dead.” He finally turned his head to look at me and his brother, who was standing next to me. His dark emerald eyes bore into mine, and I couldn't recognize them. Never have I ever seen him look at me with those eyes. Because no matter how much crap we went through, he always made sure I was fine, and his eyes held nothing but sweetness and, on most occasions, worry. “Nice shot.”

“Are you even listening to me? You think I'm ever gonna forgive myself for that?!” I snapped, not being able to keep my voice down anymore. He is grieving, but so am I. If I could, I would trade places with her.

“You know what I think,” he started, still with the same voice tone. “I think it should be you up there and not her.”

I felt my heart break for the hundredth time today. I parted my lips, not taking my teary eyes off him, which clearly showed how hurt I was. Sam let out a small gasp and widened his eyes after he heard Dean's words, clearly not expecting his brother to go that far.

I knew he blamed me, probably even more than Sam. But knowing that he wanted me dead hurt more than any physical torture I've experienced.

Sam called his name, still shocked after what he heard, but his brother just walked away, breaking my heart more and more.

—————

It has been a week since I lost Charlie, since I lost my Dean. He has been searching for the Stynes ever since but has been having a bit of trouble finding their location. So meanwhile, he went on a few solo hunts. He hasn't said a word to me and to Sam, just a few like ‘buy some beers’ ‘did you find anything about the Stynes’.

He found another hunt for today and was packing his bag in his own room. We both haven't stepped in our shared room ever since the accident, which meant we weren't even sleeping on the same bed. I'm done with being ignored, so I knocked on his door and opened it without waiting for any response. He didn't even turn around, probably knowing it was me.

“Dean,” I called his name, not even knowing what I wanna talk about, but getting him to look at me was the first step. “Dean,” I called, this time louder, and when he still didn't turn around, I walked towards him and grabbed his arm. “Alright, I'm done. When will you finally stop ignoring me?!”

He looked at my hand, which was grabbing his arm, and slowly turned around, finally looking at my face. “I'm not ignoring you, I just don't want to talk to you or be near you,” he said bitterly, pulling his arm away and reaching for his door.

“Dean, you know you're not the only one who lost someone, okay? And believe me, I know it's my fault she's gone, and I'll never forgive myself for that. But, god, you're practically killing me. I miss you,” I said desperately, waiting for something in his eyes to change, waiting for him to embrace me in his strong arms, but... Nothing. His eyes didn't even hold hatred anymore, just emptiness.

“I don't know what you expect me to say, ‘I'm sorry you were so stupid’ ‘I'm sorry you got another person killed off’ ‘I'm sorry you're so fucking useless’ Huh?! Is that what you want me to say? You want me to feel sorry for you?!” he yelled, showing the anger and darkness in his eyes while he harshly slammed me to the wall, making me whimper slightly. His words cut deep into my skin, but I tried my best to ignore them, knowing this Dean wasn't really my Dean.

“I want you to understand, I want you to know that I'm sorry. I want you to tell me that we're gonna go through this like we always do,” I said softly, looking deeply into his eyes, trying to crack him.

He let out a dark chuckle and grasped my shoulders, lowering his head to be on the same height level with me. “You want me to tell you that we're gonna go through this? Well, baby, in that way, I'd be a big liar.”

“Dean, me and Sam, we are so close to saving you. Please, just don't let the mark control you,” I begged, feeling small under his touch.

“I don't want nor need you two saving me, and believe me, at this very moment, I'm trying to not let the mark control me, so don't provoke me,” he whispered against my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

"I thought you trusted me.”

“Well, that trust was destroyed when you got someone who was like a sister to me killed. Have you ever noticed how many innocent people died because you were being too stupid?” he said harshly.

"We all have made mistakes, Dean," I said, as I thought about the hunts where innocent people died, and I couldn't save them. I didn't want Dean to know how much his words were affecting me, but, god, I felt like a crumpled paper.

“Seems like that's the only thing you ever do,” he smirked, letting his eyes fall on the floor again before looking up at my eyes again. “Tell me, how does it feel knowing you don't mean anything to anybody and you're just a burden in our lives? How does it feel knowing nobody loves you?”

That's it. That was the punch line to make me break into tears.

“Y-you love me, you said that before.”

“You know I lie to get laid,” he said, smirking, proud of his response.

My heart was racing more and more, and I felt nauseous.

“Dean, please-“

“You're nothing, do you hear me? Nothing!” he grabbed my cheeks harshly. “Your existence doesn't matter. You.don't.matter.” he said, spitting the words out before letting me go. He took his bag and walked out of the room, not even glancing at me. I slid down the wall as I started sobbing silently.

Then I heard a buzz from my phone.

New message from Sammy:

“Y/N, Dean just said he found a hunt, probably three to four werewolves, and he told me to go with him. I was really surprised but didn't question him. I think he's getting better. I'll also talk to him on the road. Next time, he'll definitely ask you too, just like old times. Don't stay up and don't worry; we got this :) love you.”

He asked Sam to go, but not me. If he hadn't told me that he hated me a few minutes ago, I'd think he was worried. But if it was really 3 or 4 werewolves, there's nothing to be worried about. He just wants to stay away from me. He told me I was a burden to them; he'll probably throw me out of the bunker soon.

Dark thoughts ran through my mind, and suddenly a rush of anxiety ran through me. What if there were more than a few werewolves? What if they get hurt? What if Dean hates me even more?

I checked Sam's message again and saw that he sent me the address of where the werewolves' location is and where the hunt would probably take place. I quickly rushed to my room, grabbed my car keys, and went to drive to the location.

—————

I was hiding behind some of the trees in the forest, watching as each of the boys fought one werewolf, two already dead ones on the floor.

Everything seemed good so far; I mean, their guns were on the floor, but they were fighting each werewolf single handed and there was no need for me to make my presence known. The boys were winning as always. And that's when I realized they don't really need me in their life. I knew the words that came out of Dean's mouth tonight weren't really Dean's, my Dean. But he was somehow right; before I became the hunter I am today, I made many mistakes. Some were small, and some led to people getting hurt or even killed. I also put their lives in danger multiple times because I was being reckless. Finding the demons that killed my parents blinded my vision. I was ready to get back to the bunker when I saw both of the werewolves giving up until I noticed something.

A werewolf close to Sam's back, and it seemed like none of the brothers noticed him. I searched for my gun but remembered I forgot it in the backseat of my car. I cursed under my breath and did the only thing possible right now to save Sam. I couldn't let Dean lose another person, especially his brother, who I knew meant the world to him. I couldn't put him through something like that again when there's a chance to save the younger Winchester.

So I ran towards Sam, trying my best to not slip because of the woods on the floor. The Werewolf was close, and nobody noticed him. I'm not the only stupid one after all. The boys turned their heads to me for a slight second, surprised at my presence, but didn't stop fighting the other werewolves.

Until I pushed Sam away from the werewolf he was fighting onto the floor. He seemed confused at first, until he saw it. I assumed Dean did too but couldn't be too sure since he was behind me. I let out an agonizing scream when the werewolf grazed his claws into my stomach and the other one, which Sam was fighting before, grazed his claws into my back before my lifeless body fell on the floor. Dean didn't hesitate more seconds before getting his gun from the floor and shooting all the werewolves.

I was bleeding like a waterfall from my body and my mouth. But the good thing is-

I didn't feel any pain, or anything in that matter…

Dean Winchester’s Pov:

No no no.

This can't be happening.

It's all a nightmare, just another stupid nightmare.

I heard Sam's crying voice telling the love of my life, his best friend, to wake up, holding her torn apart body in his arms, asking her why she pushed him away. But there was no answer.

It's a nightmare happening in real life.

Her beautiful y/e/c are open but so empty, unrecognizable.

I stood over her body, not being able to move from my spot.

There is so much blood everywhere.

Her blood.

This is hell.

No, I’ve been to hell and it's worse than hell.

I started tearing up more and more, reality hitting me more every second.

I let out an angry scream and fell on my knees when I remembered my last words to her.

“You're nothing, do you hear me? Nothing! Your existence doesn't matter. You.don't.matter.”

She wasn't nothing, she was my everything.

She mattered, she was the reason I kept going, now she's gone and it's all my fault.

All my fault.

All of the words I said came back to me, making my chest hurt.

As I knelt beside her lifeless body, surrounded by the aftermath of our shattered world, I whisper into the silent abyss, "I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm so sorry."

And deep down I felt the Mark laughing…

[theminecraftbee]

Tango makes a terrible, terrible face as he walks into Grian's new creation. Bit rude, he thinks that is, but whatever. Grian waves his arms out, getting ready to show Tango more than he'd shown him when the practice room was still in-progress, when Tango says:

"What did you do to it?"

"Huh?"

Tango shudders. He folds his arms over himself and looks at Jellie the ravager. "What did you do to it. To this place. Why is it... warm?"

"I mean, it's not really warm, see it's all white so it actually doesn't retain heat very well, even with the froglamps, so I had to do some work to make sure the temperature was appropriate for heavy physical activity while not risking frostbite the way the actual dungeon does, and..."

Grian trails off.

"The point is that it's mostly just, I don't know, mild temperature? Unnoticeable temperature? The fact you commented on it is weird."

There's a strangely echoing quality to Tango's voice as he steps back again, against the door to the practice room. "It's clean."

"Yeah. I mean, that's the aesthetic, isn't it? Wiped clean of everything but the ravager, the water, and the drowned. None of the distractions. Good for practicing, you know?" Grian squints. "You should like it. You said you'd like it. Wanted people to be able to practice so they'd do better at the dungeon."

Tango shudders again. "You've wiped clean the ravagers, too. I can't... touch her."

"What?" Grian says, baffled.

"What have you done to this place," Tango says.

"Listen, I won't have you insulting my clean room," Grian says. "I cleaned it of all the dungeon bits. It's nice and easy and white and understandable. I won't have you corrupting it."

Hm. Not sure where that one came from, he realizes. Probably a bad sign. He'd certainly guess as much from Tango, who is staring at him with something akin to horror.

In a voice that echoes like a card readout, Tango says: "You won't do this in the dungeon. You'll feed us what's left from this. Or I'll have to ask you to move it."

Grian rolls his eyes. "Geez, yeah, I won't touch the actual dungeon! I already broke the sound test room, I'm not breaking any really important redstone. Now, do you want to see the drowned dodging room or not?"

"I'm horrified to find out what happened to the drowned, if this is your ravager."

Grian looks between Jellie's blank stare and Tango and throws up his hands. "Nothing! I did nothing to her! I have no idea what you're on about!"

"It's like you bleached their insides," mutters Tango. "Bleached everything. It's not natural."

"Not natural? Like you're one to talk!"

"I need to know. Show me," Tango says.

"Right then. Take off your armor first, I don't want Jellie getting thorned or something, then let's practice some dodging and get in there. Then you'll see this is a perfectly normal set of eerie white rooms and leave me alone, right?"

Tango makes a face.

"I don't know why I bother. Honestly. You'd think I'd done something weird," Grian says, and then neither of them talk much, on account of the ravager trying to chew their faces.

[justwinginglife]

What Lies After?

Y'all, spoilers- it's a depressing one and I'm so sorry in advance. I promise I'll post something more wholesome later.

You're dying.

You're dying and Soshiro can't do a damn thing about it.

Amidst the chaos of people pulling each other from the rubble, medics running to and fro, and other soldiers groaning in pain as they writhe in the dirt waiting to see if death or the medics will claim them first, he can still hear the situation you're facing a couple feet away from him (in fact, it's the only thing he can hear at this point). You're never far away from him, he would never allow it. He doesn't know what it's like to not be by your side. But he can't reach you. He's badly injured himself and though he gave crawling a good, hard attempt, his bruised, bleeding organs won't allow him to get any closer to you though he's already pleaded and begged them to. He'd plead to anyone who'd hear him, who'd save you. The doctors, the gods, the devil himself.

The sound of the defibrillator thumping at your lifeless body is deafening to him. He can hear his own heartbeat vying for attention as it thunders in his ears and he wishes it would shut up and let him join you.

He wipes blood from his eyes, as it's started to drip down his forehead, he's desperate to see you better. Even if the color has drained from your face he still thinks you're the most beautiful thing ever placed on this Earth. His weak eyes widen slightly, as much as they have the energy to, as he sees the doctors starting to pull away from you. He sees the resigned looks on their faces, though muddled by his own tears, and he thinks he might just choke on his own lungs when he finally brings himself to look at the unforgiving, unbudging line of what was your heartbeat flattened against the cold screen of the monitor.

He stops looking at you. You're not there anymore. He's got nothing left to look at, nothing left to look forward to.

He lays down flat again, pressing his back up against the dirt, and peering at the sky while he still can, his eyelids getting heavier with each aching breath. I'll be there soon, love, wait for me.

He thinks about your laugh. How you'd probably say something about how we shouldn't waste the chance to enjoy such a bright blue sky. How we have to seize the day. And then you'd seize his hand and take off running, laughing and laughing, the way you always do. The way you always did.

Why was the sky so damn blue today?? How dare it be a perfect, clear day when nothing about this day was perfect or clear?

You would've loved today. If you weren't... gone.

He'd always make fun of people who used euphemisms. Just be honest, and say they're dead if they're dead. None of this "kicked the bucket" or "gone to a better place" bullshit. They're dead. But he can't bring himself to think that about you. He settles on "gone to a better place." Darling, save me a spot up there, won't you?

He lifts his fingers weakly and waves at the sky and what is presumably heaven.

He's never thought about religion before, but now every torn, exhausted fiber of his being hopes to every god out there that there is a heaven and that you're waiting impatiently at the door for him, tapping your foot and rolling your eyes but still grinning nonetheless. "Welcome home, Soshiro." You'd say with open arms.

"He's crashing."

He wonders if God will let the two of you have that house that you'd always dreamed of. He's sure God could spare a house or two for the love of his life especially when you're such an angel. He's made up his mind that God definitely wouldn't be able to resist a cutie like you if you asked nicely.

"Get him under control now, I'm not losing another one, damnit!!"

He wonders if you're an angel now. You always did believe in angels. You always believed in everything good and pure and wonderful like the saint you were. He smiles at the thought of you with a little glowing halo above your head and a white flowing gown. He'd kill to see you again. He'd die to see you again.

"Vice Captain, don't you quit on us!"

He wants to quit. He will. He'll do it. He doesn't know who said that but it wasn't you so he doesn't much care. He misses you so much. He misses you. What he'd give to hold you again, to smell your hair- you thought he wouldn't noticed that you'd changed your shampoo recently but he did. He never got to tell you he liked the new shampoo. He never got to tell you a lot of things. His trembling fingers move towards his pocket where he knows the ring is sitting snug against his leg but he stops himself. He doesn't want to touch it. He can't take it, it might kill him if he thinks about whatever future you might've had together. It might kill him. He touches it.

Everything goes white. Your face is coming into view now. He can almost see you fully, your hair bouncing in the wind, your sparkling eyes gleaming at him, your full lips waiting to be reunited with his. Just a little longer baby, I'm coming.

"We've got a pulse! He's stabilizing. He's going to make it!"

No.

Fuck.

[queenendless]

CRIMSON

A/n: I legit don't know how to title this piece. Inspired by @xo-romiiarts and their artwork.

Also Guns for Hire by Woodkid fits this piece so listen to it while reading this or any song that gives dark!GoGe vibes.

CW ⚠️ : 4.7k worded piece with DARK MATURE themes/depictions of murder/genocide, teen dropouts/runaways, angst, hurt/comfort, romance/fluff, already established poly!teen!GoGe x fem!teen!curse seer!reader, set in an AU where the guys did go through with it ... you have been warned. ⚠️

Cause #261 and fanarts of Gojo saying yes to Geto have given me the push to finally get this out. I have been working on this since September of LAST YEAR SO I hope yall enjoy this.

And I'm working on a pt 2 to this set a few months to a year later of the aftermath. Cause Lord, Clan Head Gojo x Cult Leader Geto x Reader but they're dark now kinda I wanna explore in my own way. With them kids. Their kids. And scene.

*DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, COPY, EDIT, PLAGARIZE, AND OR STEAL MY FANFIC WORK. Rather if you enjoy my fan work, then reblog, like, comment, n follow pls n thnx u.

"You're late, Suguru."

Indeed he was.

"No … I guess you got here fast. There are several Star Religious Group facilities in the city, after all."

Something felt seriously off the moment the snowy-haired sorcerer raised his head.

"Satoru? Is that you?"

The look in his eyes … practically radiating their potent rebirth … a stark contrast to the fading scuffs of blood running down the left half of his face, down both sides of his mouth, weariness evident.

"What happened?"

This was not his Satoru. This one … had seen hell first hand. In a twisted way, they both have today. Literally at death's door.

"I see you already saw Shoko."

"Yeah, she healed me. I'm fine now."

And yet, a long sleeved uniform arm slipped out from under the sheet, swaying a bit til staying still as a lifeless corpse would be.

"No … me being safe doesn't help anything here."

Not when he failed to keep their promise to Riko-chan. She was ready to walk away from the merger with him. Choosing to live for herself rather than follow her pre-chosen fate. Yet, fate had other plans. A cruel one, at that.

"I screwed up. You're not at fault." Gojo sounded so blunt, so calm … willing to accept all the blame for their greatest failure yet.

"Let's head back."

An eerie ringing began penetrating Geto's hearing as the clapping kept going. He chalked that up as an explanation as to why he thought he misheard Gojo's next words.

"Suguru, should we kill these guys? The way I feel right now, I doubt I'd feel anything about it."

As the form of Gojo carrying Amanai's draped body was being overshadowed by the pure white radiance of the smiling clapping cultists, Geto's morality dilemma prodded his mind, unable to meet Gojo's gaze.

"No. There's no point. It looks like there are only common believers here. The masterminds who know about our world have probably fled already. And unlike with the bounty, they won't be able to talk their way out of this. The organization had problems to begin with. It'll be dissolved soon enough."

Geto, standing in the pure white room of morality, starkly contrasted Gojo as he brushed past him and stood in the crimson room of immorality.

"No point, huh? Does there really need to be any point to it?"

Does there need to be a rhyme or reason for them to act on this? Ideally yes. They may be above the laws in most cases, but even sorcerers can't enact vengeance on regular humans. Unless they were curse users or even like the Sorcerer Killer, they couldn't lay a hand on them.

Realistically?

Right now?

The clapping grew louder, mocking him. Antagonizing him.

Gleefully celebrating her death and their own damaged, traumatizing failure.

Geto's left hand curled into a fist.

His morals were conflicting with his personal feelings; his fist shaking in restrained emotion.

His almond eyes, weariness tainting his eyebags, finally looked up.

Out at the clapping, smiling crowd.

"It's very important that there is. Especially for a jujutsu sorcerer."

Even the cruelest scum of the Earth get away scot free, never facing retribution. Darkness grew underneath him, outstretched to reach their seemingly untouchable light, as his fractured moral code made way for his true inner self to finally show its true colors.

"But not us …"

Gojo stiffened. Slightly looking back over his shoulder, peering inside the open doorway, his radiating Six Eyes turned on at the darkened gaze of Geto's eyes slightly looking back in return.

"Not today."

Rage and distraught guides him.

He would right this wrong.

To the bloody damn end.

Now triggered by those firm, final words, Gojo's heightened state strengthened as he set Amanai's body down gently on the hallway floor, the anger he didn't feel on her behalf in his rematch against the fallen Zen'in man was finally making its appearance, intertwining with an unhinged drive for chaos in his blood as a twisted gleam overtook his lips.

Survival of the weakest. Discouragement of the strong. That's how society should be; one where jujutsu sorcerers protect non-sorcerers. That's what he always strived to uphold despite his inner demons. But now… they as sorcerers still failed in the end.

Riko-chan, Kuroi-san, the weak but good ones, now dead by the orchestration of these unforgivable heinous —

"Monkeys." Having seen that monkey assassin's standing corpse himself on his way inside; decimated and dripping with bloodied spilled guts, made Geto wish he could deal the killing blow himself back in Tengen's domain.

This would have to do, feeling ready to puke when he uttered the same word as that scarred mouthed bastard, wincing as the shadowed hole he summoned released his newest curse.

The same cursed worm draped over his shoulder, opening its mouth to pop out the handle of a cursed tool, one Geto pulled out as swiftly as Gojo began ascending to heights unbound, slicing the cursed energized blade through the air as tears sprung from his unforgiving dark eyes.

"DIE!"

Those monkeys' glee changed to confusion then bursting out in waves of panic as the blade grew in length the more Geto spread his cursed energy into it.

Several heads got sliced sideways, splattering blood over some's prime white apparel, kicking off the shrill hysterics.

In an instant, Gojo blips out of sight only to plow through a row of them scurrying ants in his way like the cursed speedster he had become.

Blown off head chunks.

Fists jutted right through their torsos right and outta their spines.

Setting off carnage filled piñatas left and right.

Trained on every weakling in his sight, Gojo's uniform grew darker as more blood seeped further in with each blow.

Reappearing as he grabbed a randomly chosen neck, snapping it in two with ease, before blocking a panicking one that tried socking him from behind, glowing eyes narrowed in as he clenched their fist before ripping their arm right off with swift ease. Their tortured screech is heard one moment, the sound of bones crunching in Gojo's other hand the next.

Through hatred fueled adrenaline, Geto cleaved in them guts to match the mutilated limbs that rolled across the crimson spreaded floor.

Those attempting to flee were squandered as the force field of Limitless smooshed them, splattering the now cracked dented walls; minced red.

Many more sunken noggins soared in the air, sprinkling red from on high.

Screams and splatters became the symphony of Pandemonium.

Flinging the chain around the neck of one, Geto swung them like a chain and ball, crushing many others against the walls.

Those petrified hideous faces get their brains ruptured out; globby chunks vomiting out by mere cursed thought.

Many rammed right into the glass window ceiling, sending cracks racing in its wake, the pure white sunlight becoming a neon red.

Shards of glass rained down, deflected by Limitless as the pair found themselves back to back, watching with callousness as many were skewered like porcupines.

Limbless lumps of lifeless flesh plastered every inch of the once pristine interior from every wall, crevice, and even the ceiling had scarlet drenching it.

Their haggard breaths and sweaty burning faces aside, their dark craving for retribution still lingered in them both.

It wouldn't be enough.

Not until every last member was eviscerated.

Dismissing the worm, Geto scanned the room, trembling at the grotesque aftermath.

His cerise painted hands hung limply at his sides.

Amiss the madness, their residuals were there.

Fortunately they knew to an extent how to hide them. However long those held out, they couldn't waste a moment. Any longer than that spent here meant capture followed by immediate execution.

Feeling himself moving by a firm grasp tugging on his hand, his light headed state transitioned to a frigged one over what they had just committed. The solid squeeze of Gojo's sizzling hand helped pull him further out of his own unsteady mindset.

"Satoru …" He internally felt revolted at having those monkeys wretched blood covering his skin.

"Suguru."

Through the path of red, his closest friend – his ally in genocide – turned to him with cherry-red streaking his unbuttoned jacket and the collared white undershirt, for his glowing – exhausted – eyes were scarred with the brutal truth. Reaching his stained, steadfast hands out for that stained lost face, Gojo rested his forehead against Geto’s, staring into those stricken eyes of one of his most greatest treasures.

"Come with me. Let's get away.”

Blood trickled down from the ceiling, spilling along their hair, staining their faces, but both couldn't care less as they sealed it with a kiss. Lost in the bloody euphoria, relishing in one another's warmth.

The new taste of searing iron overtook the repelling flavor of cursed spirits, overwhelming the pair as Geto clawed at Gojo's back and the latter's hands massaged the former's supple cheeks, bringing muffled moans outta them both.

It feels right … anywhere … as long as it's with each other. It's just right.

Wherever they end up, whatever it may be, may it be nowhere near here whenever whichever sorcerers would be sent to investigate this now scene of massacre.

Once partners in sorcery.

Now partners in crime.

What a send off for them, the newly dropouts.

The clapping halted.

The ringing faded.

Their hearts felt lighter.

But something still felt off.

Someone was missing.

"Y/n." Geto's eyes opened to stare into Gojo's as they parted lips. "We can't leave her behind … we can't …"

Knowing their cursed seer partner probably foresaw the bloody chain of events that had recently just transpired in the last few hours. But knowing how abrupt they can be, maintaining and willing them into your mind’s eye was still a burdening struggle, ergo you being left behind at school for tiring training.

The heavy fog of bloodlust and tension between them lifted for now Geto's eyes lightened at sensing that familiar presence. He knew Gojo sensed it as well, for his glowing eyes followed his lead, taking Riko back in his arms, the duo raced to the surface outside.

You had ran outta the car that dropped you off down the street. You gulped to stifle back the bile at the gory sight of the fallen Zen’in still standing; the bloody puddle reaching for you now.

Your gaze averted once you spotted them coming out, hurrying over, your stomach churning at how scrapped up and red they appeared, but your empathy outweighed the disgust as Geto caught you in his heavy weighted grasp.

The fear in Geto's eyes mingled with confusion and concern. "Y/n … I … we –!”

Gojo’s eyes slanted as you kept your face hidden. "Did you get a vision?”

Your shaky nod against Geto’s chest paired with your ashamed tone. “I was too late … I,” An anxious pause of silence stretched between you three. “Shoko told me where you were headed after healing you … then came another one … of course you two would get Riko’s body back …”

They waited for the heart shattering blow. The final nail in the coffin. You shunning them away, cutting ties immediately. Rejecting them for their heinous act. Fleeing away in horror to Jujutsu High, reporting their sorry asses and ousting them as traitors. All the above — !

“The system would have let these zealots slip through the cracks. They … their assassin … they all deserve to rot in hell for what they've done … all because of Tengen … Kuroi and Amanai have been avenged.” Your callous tone kinda threw them off a tad bit.

Geto gulped. “You … You're okay with it?”

Your head finally rose up, the glossy layer to those e/c eyes sparkled from the sliver of sunset. "I know I can't make up for letting you all down … and no amount of apologies can redeem my blunder … but I can do this at least. I'll bring her back to the school, back to Kuroi-san. They deserve to be laid to rest together.”

You reluctantly pull away from Geto’s warmth; uncaring about the red stains smearing your clothes now, to take the wrapped up body as Gojo gently passes her into your arms, melancholy heavy on your face but the strength of resolve aiding you in carrying her. “My place is with you two. Always. Now more than ever.”

Geto’s eyes pricked with burning warmth; your willingness to stay despite everything, as he kissed your temple. “We should be apologizing to you.”

“There's still more of those facilities in the city left standing. We're not finished just yet.” Gojo's voice spoke doom for their upcoming targets, a stark contrast to his own kiss to your forehead being so sweet.

“They all need to go. Every single one of them.” Geto clenched his veiny hands, determined to see this through to the end. “We will return for you. If you wouldn't mind packing our things for us by the time we show up …”

You nodded, sadly smiling. "Don't keep me waiting too long.”

Their brisk nods to you paired with smooches to your cheeks were all you were given before you watched them holding hands then warping away.

The driver stayed silent as they drove your contemplative self, keeping her cold self close to your warmth, back to school for the last time.

°•○•°•○•°°•○•°•○•°°•○•°•○•°°•○•°•○•°°•○•

The sun had set.

Crimson painted the sky.

A young girl's life ended by a gunshot to the head.

Two young teens, forced to face the cruel reality of their lives through near death.

The Star Religious Group Headquarters.

House of the Children of the Star.

Their monotheistic religion spent worshiping their absolute God; Tengen.

Crossing the wrong sorcerers, nearly costing them their lives in the process at the hands of their hired assassin; the Zen'in clan failure.

Their facilities left as ruins scattered in ruble, collapsed craters layering the grounds, red painting the toppled stone and marble.

The trauma of near death, failing to keep their promises to protect their friends' lives, and losing to a physically gifted human … their pride as the strongest duo now tarnished.

Retribution.

Selfish desires made to fruition.

With Riko-chan now gone, the assimilation was now void.

Tengen-sama had evolved.

The barrier hiding the school's location was weakened and easily spotted by the Six Eyes.

You solo carried Riko to the morgue, spotting your senpai and fellow kouhai watching you from the distance, ignoring your driver hurriedly running to inform Yaga-sensei of the turn of events, but only making eye contact with Shoko as she was standing out front by the entrance, already expecting you, prepared for the worst.

You two stayed silent, understanding exactly just from seeing the acceptance in your gaze.

Seeing the covered bodies laying side by side on the tables, you prayed over the mother daughter pair, believing the guys would stop by to do the same, hopefully.

As you just finished zipping up one of three duffle bags meant for each of you in your room, you felt the ripples through the Force that is cursed energy.

The fuse was lit. The air pricked with sparks as those two set off a chain reaction.

You could visualize the facilities up in flames.

“You really are idiots.” Shoko leaned against the open doorway, smoke in her disapproving frown. “To think they'd go this far … and you're bailing with them.”

“My whole world ended when I lost my mom. My dad was a broke ass deadbeat. Then I was discovered, brought here and met you all. You became the family I needed … so I thought that was enough. But those two … they're my everything. We ride or die together. You can join us or stay here. That goes for you two as well, ya know.”

You felt Haibara and Nanami hiding behind the wall before joining Shoko in the sliding doorway. By the looks on their faces, the news spread like wildfire.

“If I go with you guys, then the higher ups will force my sister to take my place.” Haibara frowned at the guilty truth.

“Rules and regulations keep us in line, as much as they suck.” Nanami sulked.

“Those old cods view us all as disposable tools. We're not heroes. We have our own ideals, desires, lives even. And if it means I may die down the line because I choose to walk away, then I'd rather die with freedom than serve them as their obedient lapdog.” You spoke devotedly.

“I don't get it.” The blunt tone and her aversion to eye contact made you realize how left out Shoko still felt that her two crazy guy friends were willing to leave them – leave her – behind.

“It'd be nice to have you by our side Ieiri … but I know you still have Utahime to consider.” You grinned at seeing the tiny pink tinted rise to her cheeks.

“You're our classmates! To have you and our senpai be branded as curse users, I don't want to have to fight you guys!” Haibara's angry tears made your heart waver. Your own eyes burned with cursed energy.

The static film reel of seeing your guys getting savagely brutalized, Riko and Kuroi's murders, even further down the line … glimpsing Haibara scarred and pale and so damn still —

“You're still our friends. Always.”

Even with glistening chibi eyes and stubbornly pursed lips, Haibara realized you had made up your mind, reaching Nanami's hand to squeeze and be his anchor.

“It's not a crime to be a kid, but the accumulation of life's little despairs make you become an adult. Remember that.” Nanami understood that much, knowing the guys are capable of setting the world on fire when pushed too far. Like so.

Blinking back tears yourself, you nodded. “If you ever need us or change your mind, you know how to reach us.”

Throwing the duffle bags outta the window before jumping out yourself took them all by surprise. Jutting their heads out, they were relieved yet anxious spotting Geto's manta ray cursed spirit flying away, the bags and you safe across his lap and wrapped up in his arms.

His crestfallen gaze back at them was the last sight of him they received when they also spotted Gojo floating on high, gazing at them with melancholy, the living example of Nanami's parting words to you.

Knowing deep in your intuition they snuck into the morgue to pay their final respects to Riko and Kuroi before retrieving you, you kept quiet about it, trusting them wholly to catch you as well.

On that day, everything changed.

On that night, there was no turning back.

But to both yours and Geto's surprise, the boldness of Gojo as he landed right by you both on the manta ray and grasped Geto's shoulder, his suggestion for a hideaway took your breaths away.

The empty private home – one of quite many – belonging to his family's clan; this one gifted solely to him. Even as fugitives, making such a bold choice to hide there, Gojo sure is a wild child.

Wading in the waters of the giant tub to wash away the blood, flushing the pink tinted liquid down the drain, then filling up the tub once more made way for some scented oil that helped elevate the tranquil vibes.

“You're certain?” Geto scrubbed his shoulder length sudsy hair, brushing his wet locks.

“The clan has too many spots all over Japan. We crash here tonight, take what we can to sell for cash in case the geezers fry our bank accounts, then high tail someplace new. Like say, I don't know, overseas?” Gojo's lax assurance transformed him into a chibi in Geto's point of view; resting his head and arms back against the tub's rim.

Almond eyes darkened, catching the scar stretching from Gojo's lithe neck, across that toned chest, and stopping by his hip poking out of the bubbly water.

Exhaustion smeared with piqued intrigue and guilt in those blue eyes spotting the X shaped scar on Geto's sculpted chest.

Red tints colored their faces as pleased sighs left their lips at the warm water loosening up their stiff muscles, fingers weaving through each other's slick hair, bringing their faces closer, brown meeting blue as they stared longingly at each other.

The unique connection ergo magnetic attraction was evident. From clashing freshmen to still bickering but budding sophomores. And now, as fresh genocidal dropouts, they both looked like they aged a lot.

The contrasts, the similarities, their yin yang dynamic.

That and the fuzzy warmth was getting to them.

“I'm really glad you're alive.” Geto nuzzled his nose against Gojo's.

“RCT for the win.” That albino pecked the corner mouth of his raven.

Their tired giggles relieved the tension.

Brushing their bare dripping shoulders together, lips connected, initiating timid soft touches. Drool connected their heated tongues, their heated breath fanning one another's face, oh so close, wanting more.

Your hums of content grabbed their attention as you waded over to them, watching your round cheeks blowing soapy bubbles into their faces.

Running your hands down their scars made your lips tremble at the agony they went through. Entrapped in their arms, you hummed as their lithe hands caressed your supple smooth skin for they were touched by your gingerly layered kisses along their tender marked flesh.

Toru's yawning broke out, worrying you and Sugu who suggested you all start drying up. Toru was the most exhausted being actively awake using Six Eyes for 3 days straight.

But you all were, mentally and emotionally.

The electric dryer rumbled as your wet uniforms swirled within. The AC hummed in the backdrop.

Duffle bags left open as you three laid in the enormous bed, you three snuggled in close on the center.

Setting up a small simple altar in honor of Riko and Kuroi in the room gave you all some peace of mind, especially when burning some smoky incense to cleanse the place. To pray and hope that their souls were in a better place than the hell they're stuck on called Earth.

“I detest humanity. Swallowing cursed spirits made from the worst parts of their very existence for so long confirms that. Killing those cultists put my mind at ease … as horrible as that must be to you.” Suguru's weary gaze shifted to meet Satoru's now unsettlingly calm ones as they laid atop the bed beside each other, clad in just boxers, with you splayed across Satoru wearing just a large tee you all shared just cause.

“You've been feeling this way for a long time, then.” Suguru flushed as Satoru weaved his hand through those silky obsidian strands, free from the metaphorical shackles of his usual restrained bun. “I'm sorry I didn't realize it.”

Suguru's cheek nuzzled his wrist, breathing in Satoru’s cozy scent. “I never wanted you to. Or anyone for that matter. These are my own feelings to grapple with.”

Satoru's messy cat hair shook, tickling Suguru's face, closing his stinging eyes to let them rest for the moment as their foreheads touched. “Well, now, we'll carry that burden together.”

“We're branded as curse users now … we're on our own from here … and you're fine with that?” Sugu was skeptical for the most part.

“I never held hatred for anybody before … not even over Amanai's death … but I always knew my life would be spent as a living weapon for jujutsu society … a monster. And now that I've crossed the line … there's no coming back from that … but I'd do it all again …if it mended the pain you felt inside. I just … I don't want you suffering in silence anymore. I never want to leave you behind.” That soothing voice of his cracked.

Suguru was breathless seeing red in those reopened agonized eyes.

“Still … I took advantage of your heightened state and let my emotions cloud my judgment. I'm supposed to be the moral compass … yet I'm no better than those monkeys … and you nearly died because of them … I'm sorry Satoru … I'm so sorry.” Water hit Toru’s skin as the choked up weeping of his best friend smothered his shoulder.

“Hey, hey. I'm here, aren't I?” Keeping an arm wrapped around his partner, Satoru smooched the crown of Suguru's precious noggin, being tickled by those loose bangs in the face, shushing him and kissing that pierced ear of his. “And even you need to cut yourself some slack and lean on others too, ya know. And realize … you can't get rid of me that easily. You're stuck with this monster for a long time, Suguru~”

That possessive, enamored voice compelled Suguru to peak out and witness those lovesick eyes; the polar opposite to the tunnel vision of the reawakened Satoru Gojo that approached him with Riko-chan in his arms, struck right at his core.

The soft warm lamp on the side table paired with the sliver of moonlight between the curtains transformed their eyes into mini galaxies. Their own universe even to dwell in and share together.

“Hmm.” He brushed back Satoru's locks to spot the scar on his forehead and kiss that booboo. “You've never been a monster to me. Just a goofy idiot.”

Elated chuckles hit his giant lobed ears as his resident goofball pecked his blushing nose. “Your goofy idiot, smart ass.”

“Awwww~”

Flinching at that familiar voice, the guys directed their flushed gazes to you; your cheek mushed against Toru's pillow chest, fawning over them with your e/c eyes, round with sparkles and hearts set a glow in ‘em.

“I agree with all the above. Don't mind me. Just get it on with the yaoi goodness.”

“How subtle.” Suguru's eyes crinkled with mirth.

“She's got good taste, though.” Satoru's feline grin followed, rolling you both over to smush you in between them, pecking your forehead. “Period.”

You frowned. “All the apologies in the world can't make up for me letting you two down today.”

“Nonsense.” Suguru disagreed as the back of your head cushioned in between his plush pecs. “Having you here with us makes this shitty day much better.”

“We all screwed up.” Gojo griped before it became a longer deeper yawn.

Your eyes glowed a moment before dying down, alerting them and reminding you. “Time for you to sleep. Cause we got a lot of shit to think over on how to move forward. For all of us.” His exasperated sigh was met by your chaste lips as you leaned up to kiss him; him returning it to suck them up.

“Yes ma'am.” His pouting turned to a dopey grin; growing wider when Suguru kissed him goodnight too. That finally conked him out, breathing softly, when Suguru's hand wrapped around your side, turning you to lay on your back so he could see you properly; eyes clad in guilt of his own.

“Y/n, in no way should you feel responsible for what happened. That assassin would have killed you too if you had gotten involved. If we lost you as well …” His forehead met yours, letting you kiss him slowly, pulling him in to relish your personal taste. “My hope is that they're in a better place now.”

“Me too … My visions are just as much an omen as they are an aid. In this world there are no guarantees for a peaceful living … but I believe in you two … no matter what … and I know in my heart this is worth it, risks and all.”

Your honest smile made him grateful for accepting him, despite all that's happened, his tears hitting your face in response so you kissed his tears away.

“Thank you, Y/n.” His whispers met your lips as you two got caught up in another kiss when you two grunted in surprise as Satoru flipped you both over, smothering you two under his precious heat.

“‘M love you both, mmh so much.” He mewled, sleepy eyes peeking open to drowsily smile down at you two.

“Satoru, we can't breathe.” A red faced Suguru wheezed out.

Satoru languidly laughed, “My bad.”

Thankfully, you three were able to get some shuteye that night.

They're your whole world now.

Deep down inside, they know they're both monsters, for that day brought the truth to light of their dark potential.

But they're your monsters.

Your empathetic, devious, passionate monsters.

And as far as the truth goes, you too are just the same.

Three of a kind, indeed.

[paleroze]

Blade Imagines

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Joining the stellaron hunter, you don't know what the future holds for you. You don't know what will happen, you don't know what you want and what you desire. The future is dull, and this life of yours has lost its meaning before you can even seek for the light.

Your past is nothing but a black and white, blurry and chose to be forgotten. Your family.. well, they became strangers to you when you've told them you don't know what to do with your future. They said you have a bright path ahead of you if you just work for it. But you don't, sick of just working and doing everything you can just to please their desire for your upcoming future.

You've long forgotten what is the meaning of doing all of it.

Coming across the stellaron hunters, you meet Elio and you look at him blankly as you join them for their so-called "Scripts", their Destiny and their desire to obtain the stellaron.

Somehow, when you join and meet Elio, you have no intention of learning your own destiny, Elio just mentioned that your future would be an interesting one, and quite an issue if not payed attention.

Again, does even the Destiny's slave say the same thing to you?

You've learned of the other members of their deal with Elio, but not that it concerns you. Besides, it seems you are just there to help, yes you are an official member but you don't have a deal with Elio like the rest of them. It is quite out of place, but when you begin to work with Kafka, she says there's nothing wrong with it even if you're the first to not ask something in return.

It is weird as you try to be capable of anyone, Silver wolf, Sam, Kafka, and that guy..

Blade, he's quiet, always on his own, and Kafka is the only one that is able to control him. Probably because of her ability.

Nonetheless, you still try, even if Blade always throws himself into battle before you can even act. You were once like that, too, determined to win, get the upper hand. Now you act on your own, as if you have the same healing abilities as him.

The difference is, you can die.

The first time you've witnessed Blade 'die', you were debating whether you bring his body back or just leave him in the planet. Only to see him stand back up before you can even approach his body, stained with blood, yet no wounds to see.

You've finished the enemy before Blade resurrects, and the man looks at you before the dead bodies across the land. The stellaron on your hand, sealed and waiting to be in the possession of Elio.

No words were spoken between you as you return to the station, handing the stellaron to Elio then going back to the other members, waiting for your next part.

"Dear, would you be so kind and get Blade a new set of clothes? I'm too occupied right now to help him."

You receive a text from Kafka days after, that woman must be shopping for herself right now. No time to complain.

You approach Blade who seems to be meditating, knowing he will notice your presence, you remain standing in front of him, waiting for his nonverbal response.

He opens his eyes and gazes back at you, "Kafka says we have to get you new clothing."

Blade didn't budge.

You look across the room and saw Silver wolf, "He doesn't come with her, therefore he won't come with you." She pops the bubblegum on her lips.

'That won't happen.' Your eyebrows twitch, then go back to your room, changing into a comfortable outfit before going back out.

"Get up, you're coming with me. I don't care if you don't go with Kafka when she buys you clothes." You tug his shoulders, disrupting his meditation.

Blade was quick to take out his sword and as for you, of course you would block his swing with your weapon.

Clashing with him in the middle of the room, Silver wolf barely pays attention to both of you as she continues to play, moving away if you two come close to her and she would curse from the disturbance.

Sam walked in, confused at the commotion and tried to step in and stop before the two of you broke something.

Pining him down on the floor that stopped both of you, you glare at him and point the tip of your weapon to his face, as if it would taunt him.

"Stop." You said, voice stern while you pull away.

Seriously, you're doing this for him and he would act like this? Kafka better pay you handsomely.

The two ladies in the room look at you intrigued, and Blade stood up from the floor, eventually giving in and leaving the room.

You mentally curse him.

Rolling your eyes, you wait for his return and gladly he doesn't take his time. Blade wears casual clothes, a long black coat, underneath is a brown shirt.

Sighing, you went out first and you could feel Blade following behind you. If you are some stranger, you would guess this man is a stalker with the way he dressed. What the hell is with that mask and glasses?

Also, a beanie??

Irritated, you turned to him and grabbed the hat and glasses. "You look much better without those, take that off." You put it in the bag before he could even complain.

As you shop for the clothes Kafka gave directions to, you went to try the size Blade fits him, that man has a bit of a muscle and the part on the chest mostly doesn't fit in. You're almost determined to get him a new design, if not for the saleslady to give a size that finally fits him.

Getting a lot of pairs of them, you pay with your own money, not even bothering to ask the man behind you for his own credits. You doubt Blade has some, and even if he does, you wouldn't ask anyway.

Bags in your hand, you walk around the place to look for yourself, clothes you would find interesting, food to eat while you're out.

If only life could be this way and not have any responsibilities.

Blade follows behind you, two bags on hand that have his new clothes, yet you carry the rest for yourself. He was tempted to take the ones in your hold as he has noticed that you're giving everything to him for free. Yet he could only walk behind you like some kind of bodyguard.

As he waits for you in another stall, Blade had his eyes on you only, and he was quick to notice some men looking over you. You must've noticed with the way they act noticeably, yet you kept looking around the shop.

One guy came close to where you stand, staring at you discreetly, he would follow with his gaze, and when you're out of the sight then he would trail behind.

As soon as you step out of the shop, Blade walks towards you, weirdly close instead of walking a few steps behind you. The two of you look at each other, before you shrug him off and begin to walk.

'Do you have no idea at all?' he thought to himself and yet walks next to you, he felt the group of men still following you.

He turns his head to glare at them, and puts his hand to your waist to pull you closer that causes you to almost trip to your feet from the sudden touch.

You look up at him then to where he's looking to notice the creepy men following you. From their actions alone, you couldn't help but scowl at them.

They scattered away like rats, and as soon as they were gone, Blade continued to walk, his hand still around your waist and seemed to be forgotten.

Throughout the day, the two of you stayed close, Blade didn't pull away and would even bring you close to him if you tried to.

'Perhaps this shopping day isn't so bad after all.' The two of you thought.

Blade would insist that you would be the one to get his clothes from now on, and he would accompany you. He wouldn't like to know that there are still some kinds of guys out there, and even if you are tough to take them down and take their lives, Blade would pretend you wouldn't.

As for you.. there might be some changes. Perhaps light is beginning to shine on the horizon if you try to reach for it again instead of waiting..

[loganwritesprobably]

First Meetings with.. (One Piece Edition)

Part two with Zoro, Robin and Luffy Part three with Crocodile, Mihawk and Buggy Part four with Benn, Shanks and Smoker

A tumblr exclusive collection of little reader insert drabbles - these won't be going on my AO3, these are just for the feral people of this wonderful hellscape

Requests are open for x reader things! I will write basically ANY kind of reader - male, female, non-binary, gender neutral, trans, disabled, black, white, latino, asian, neurodivergent, etc

I'll probably do more over time but here's three to start with - Ace, Law and Sanji. Readers are all gender neutral, but for Sanji reader is fem presenting (so he would be nice)

"Well hey there gorgeous." A voice said behind you, startling you to the point of hitting your hand against the counter in front of you. You were just minding your business, attempting to buy some food for the week, when some random guy had appeared behind you. You had half a mind to turn around and give him a piece of your mind, when the shopkeeper's eyes widened, and whispered his name. Fire Fist Ace. The pirate. "Who do you think you are?" You asked, turning to face him with a scowl. You wouldn't attack him outright, but you were not happy with the look on his face (now that you could see it) and wouldn't let it go. "Your future boyfriend, hopefully." Ace replied, and you scoffed. You turned back to the shopkeeper and bought your groceries, before making to leave the store. Ace followed behind you closely, making no secret of the fact that he was there.

"Are you lost?" You snarked, rolling your eyes at Ace. He was persistent, you'd give him that. "Oh no, just hoping you'll look at me like that again. You're perfect." "You're disgusting." You grumbled, although you'd certainly never been called perfect before, and in another circumstance you wouldn't be mad about it. "Hey, now that's harsh." Ace replied, but he was laughing as he said it, clearly unphased by your displeasure being directed at him. You took off walking again, not walking toward your place since you didn't exactly want to lead him straight to it.

Ace, to his credit, continued to follow you and eventually began to just talk. He seemed to be able to talk forever, uncaring whether or not you were listening - though you were. He was a pirate, pretty high bounty, almost a warlord, he had a little brother who he was stupid proud of, and an even bigger family waiting for him back on his main ship. "While this is all very nice, are you going to leave me be any time soon?" You asked eventually, back on the main street of the town once again. "Are you going to tell me your name?" That was all? You told him your name, utterly exasperate it. "Well, gorgeous, you'll be seeing more of me soon." With that, he took off in the opposite direction of your home, with a swagger in his step, happy he'd gotten what he wanted. You kind of hoped that you would be seeing him again soon - you liked him, reluctantly.

You weren't even hurt that badly. The guys were gone, and you were managing to stumble home just fine. You had a first aid kit in the kitchen that would be able to patch you up, and then you could go to the doctor when you had the time and had gotten some sleep. It was too late to go see her now.

As you stumbled down the dark street, clutching walls for stability, a man began to approach you. "Fuck off! Not in the mood." You snarled, clutching the broken shard of glass you'd gotten in the fight, a strip of your shirt wrapped around it to protect your hand. "You're injured." The guy stated flatly, and then you'd hit a stalemate. "Duh?" You said, still brandishing the shard in your hand. "I can fix it. I'm a doctor. Don't have to drop the glass, but I'd prefer if you didn't stab me." The supposed doctor drawled. He seemed.. familiar. Something about him just sparked recognition in the back of your mind, and that put you a little on edge. "You're familiar - why?" You questioned, shuffling backward to get a little further away from him while you waited on his answer. "I'm Trafalgar Law. My bounty poster is on the wall you're clutching." The pirate doctor pointed out, nodding toward it. Well, that made sense. Surgeon of death you'd heard him called - so at least that meant he was a doctor right? "Alright. But one wrong move and you'll be needing your own medical care." You threatened, and Law just half nodded. He knelt down in front of you to look at your wound, then pulled some bandages from a pocket in his coat. He wrapped your leg, doing so in complete silence and without hesitation. When he was done, he stood again and grunted as he nodded.

"Should be fine now. It'll hurt to walk still, but less risk of infection." He summarised, stepping around you to continue in the direction he'd been going. "Wait! Why did you do that?" You asked, spinning quickly on your good leg. "You're cute." He said simply, a small smirk on his face. He lifted his hand, said a word you didn't hear, and then in a flash of blue light he was gone.

You'd bumped into him entirely by chance, and gotten talking. He was a nice guy, he was sweet if a little much when it came to women he saw. You didn't mind - you could see that his intentions were good, for the most part. He offered to pay for a drink for you, since you'd narrowly avoided colliding with him outside of a bar, and you'd accepted. He let you order what you wanted, and he paid, not even blinking. It was second nature to him. He was kind, and offered endless compliments that you withstood with a smile on your face - you weren't quite used to such a bombardment of affection.

He disappeared after an hour or so, but returned the next day. You'd tried to ask where he went, but he danced around the question and asked you on an official date. You'd had a nice enough time the day before, and so you agreed.

He took you to a restaurant, it was classier than you usually allowed yourself to go to with a modest amount of money, but it didn't seem to be any object for him. He told you that he wouldn't compromise on good food, and allowed you to order anything you'd like, with no concerns about how many beri it would set him back. It felt nice not to worry about it for once. You ordered starters, then mains, with drinks flowing easily between you, and then a dessert to share to end the experience. You'd been there for hours, but with the money that you'd spent, no waiter could argue.

The conversation between you was easy and light, he was enraptured by your every word, he couldn't help it. He looked at you as if you'd hung the very stars in the sky. "All I've done is talk. I know almost nothing about you." You said to him, and Sanji laughed awkwardly. "I suppose so. But I'm afraid there's not much to tell." He said, and just as you'd been about to argue, a woman with orange hair came bursting into the restaurant calling his name. You looked at him with wide eyes and stood quickly. "No! She's not-" Sanji said hurriedly. "How much of my money was spent on this date?" Nami demanded, fire in her eyes. "I'm so sorry! I didn't realise you were-" You attempted to say to the woman, hoping she wouldn't direct her frightening anger at you. "Oh you're gorgeous. Well played cook, didn't think you had it in you." She praised, and then bewildered confusion fell over you. "Oh Nami, your praise is a balm on my heart." You rolled your eyes and folded your arms, raising an expectant eyebrow as you stared at Sanji, waiting for an explanation. "I'm a pirate. She's our navigator, and.. treasurer I suppose." He explained, and you sighed. "So you're not staying." "I can't." Sanji agreed, with a sad smile and nod. "But we're not leaving for another few days. So have fun while you can." Nami said, giving you a wink and Sanji a firm punch before turning to leave the restaurant.

Fun. You could do that.

[vanya-evergreen]

How to remember (prologue)

Relationship- Batfam x reader (platonic)

Summary: At the age of 11, you woke up in an other world without any guidance and all the money you once lacked. You were left with only your memeories and your other memories.

You tired to remember, their life, but it seemed like they didn't want you too. So when trying to navigate the intricate sides of an elite schoo, but you always got in trouble when it came to faces and names.

Cw- attempted kidnapping, murder (in self defense) guns.

wc: 953

Masterlist

next>

A/n- probably will edit a bit later, but I won't be able to be as active for a little while so just thought that this would be a fun. (I say this, and I'm probably going to end up posting the third chapter by the 15th. )

Your place the last flower into its designated spot. Using your sleeve, you wipe the sweat off of your temple. You had been out here for hours working on rearranging the garden. While it was rare to find something as nice as a community garden in such a crime ridden part of gotham. It wasn't impossible with the right people. You put the last bit of dirt into place, grab your gardening tools and head upstairs. You place tools by the front door, as you take off your shoes. Your mom was standing in the kitchen biting her nails, waiting for you.

“Darling.” You turn on the faucet, wincing at the temperature of the water as you rub your hands together. “Why would you do that?” you look at  your mom, the worry was written all over her face. You look back down to the sink, you couldn’t look at her. The water runs off your hand, now tinted red from the blood. A mix of both your’s and the person who lays underneath the apartment’s community garden. 

“Maybe to save your life,” You grab a few pumps of soap and lather up your hand. You feel your mom giving you the look for your sarcasm. “I am sorry mom, they were trying to take you.” 

You remember the moment, two masked people were carrying your mom into a black van. You didn’t have time to think about your reaction, you just acted. You grabbed the biggest brick near you and jumped onto the person carrying your mom. They were bigger than you, see as they were an adult. Not even thinking twice, you got blood on your hands. You grab the gun off of their limb body and point it at the other person. They pulled out their gun shooting your arm, but you quickly shot their hand, making the gun fall out of their hands. They climbed into the van as you shot again missing. They closed the door and sped off.

“Yes, but you know that I always told you to never do that.” She pulls her hand over her face, then pushes them back into her hair. She paces around the kitchen. The water was now clear, you took hydrogen peroxide and poured it on your hands and over the sink.”please look at me.” You didn’t raise your head. Your mom grabs the bottom of your chin and turns your head to look at her. “You look at me when I talk to you.” black inks out of her irises, completely consuming the white of her eyes. Your eyes widen, you rip your chin out and run into the corner of the room.

“Please don’t” you defensively cornered yourself into the kitchen counters. “Don’t do that please!” You breathe quicken as you stare her down. She furrowed her brows, and she quickly approached. You breathe harder the closer she gets. Your vision narrows. Black slowly creeps into the corner of your eyes. The last thing you remember is your mom rushing toward you.

“Wake up.” A familiar voice calls. Your eyes jolt open, you are met with your own face. They are identical to you in every way. “Hello. Nice to meet you, or well me.” They rest their head on their knees, keeling over your body. You look past them, it was all just white with no edges or ceiling. You try to move, but you are stuck. “Oh yeah, sorry, you can’t speak, it tends to take up too much time.” They smile at you. You are still trying your hardest to speak, blinking rapidly in a weak effort to move. They chuckle a bit.  “Anyways, I'm going to make this quick. You are in the in between and-”  

You are able to pry your mouth open as they speak  “Is it called the in between because we are in between realities?” You blurted out. They lift their head from their knees and tilt their head. 

“Yeah,” They stand up, their face seem to be more continuous than before. They walk around you and your eyes follow them.

“How original.” You poke at them. “Let me guess, you would call your dog ‘dog’ wouldn’t you?” you still couldn’t move the rest of your body but at least you didn’t have to listen to them.

“No, i dont like animals” You were offended, this person claims to be you, and yet they dont like animals, not a single one. “You are much more difficult than I thought you would be.”

“You thought I was going to be easy to deal with?” you laugh out as they give you a nasty look. They kick your side with their feet. 

“You are just as annoying,” You give them a smug smile. “I was just to say thanks for taking my place but never mind” 

“What do you mean by-” They reach their hand out to touch your forehead, you move your head to the side quickly. They let out an aggravated sound and attempt to grab your shoulders, but you rolled away. They chase after you as you continue to roll away from them, until you are able to lift your head and see a hole. You debated about if you should roll into there but they were getting closer so you would rather take your own chance right?

“Hey you better not-” You roll in that hole. They run over trying to grab you but you are too far down. You can hear their scream as you fall deep into the hole. It gets darker the further you go, you tightly close your eyes waiting for the inevitable splat on to the ground.  It never came. 

Taglist: @problematicreblogger

@mileskisser @hoeinthehouse @luminous011

@enjisthings @earth-to-mee @thereeallink

[inmyicyworld]

New purchase

kinktober - lingerie kink, mirror sex

Summary: You just got a new expensive lingerie set and decided to tease your mafia boss boyfriend with some sexy pictures.

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: mob bucky barnes, established relationship, smut, p in v, lingerie kink, mirror sex, unprotected sex, creampie, sexy pictures, doggy style, butt slapping, hair pulling, dirty talk.

Author's note: I know for a fact that I won't be able to write for every day of the Kinktober event, but I still want to be a part of it lol. So if any of you have some spicy (or not) ideas, my inbox is open for requests or suggestions.

Also, I had too much fun with AI stuff and y'all... this Bucky Barnes makes me literally weak in the knees😩😩 (I have a few more AI-generated pics to add to my fics, if you'll like it.)

masterlist my ao3 ko-fi

As soon as the message from you popped up on Bucky’s screen, he was no longer involved in the conversation with his people, who were reporting on the situation that got a few men killed.

No, now his eyes were glued to the screen of his phone. To the photo that you sent him, to be exact. You were standing in front of the mirror in the new blue lingerie set that Bucky definitely hadn't seen before. 

“miss you, baby.” 

Bucky took a deep breath, studying every little thing in the photo—from your half-hidden smile to the soft skin of your legs and stomach—and noticing the way your boobs were perfectly sitting in that almost see-through bra. Fuck, to be right now on top of you instead of sitting here was a dream. You knew what effect you had on him and that Bucky loved your expensive lingerie, but he couldn't just leave now, right? Controlling Brooklyn was not easy, especially when some brave idiots tried to threaten him.

“please, Jamie…”

Another text message with an attached picture appeared in front of him, and his pants immediately became much tighter. Now it was from another angle. You were on the bed on your hands and knees, your spine perfectly arched to show your round ass in just a little piece of fabric that shouldn’t even be considered underwear. 

Flashbacks from all the times Bucky was holding your hips while thrusting into you from behind filled his head and he almost wanted to moan out loud. No, it was impossible to listen to whatever Peter was saying, especially when it was the first time you sent such photos.

“You better stay in this position, baby. I'm coming.” He typed quickly before suddenly getting up from his fancy leather chair, making the whole room go quiet. 

“D-did I say something wrong, boss?” Peter’s face became white. Bucky probably looked really angry right now, but only because he couldn't touch you and bury himself in your heat at that exact moment. 

“I didn't listen, Parker. I need to go; finish here without me. Steve, you're responsible.” Bucky took his jacket and stormed out of the room without another word. 

You were walking around the bedroom in nervousness, as if it were your first time waiting for Bucky from work. But now something was different, though. You knew that he was busy, and you hated disturbing him, but after looking in the mirror at yourself for too long, you got so confident and bold that you decided to text him with photos, which you had never done before. 

Your best friend Nat took you out shopping, but even though Bucky always gave you his card and told you to buy whatever you wanted, you never actually did it. Until you saw that unbelievably beautiful blue set. Bucky went crazy every time you had new pieces, but they weren’t as expensive as this one because you always bought them with your own money. Your friend basically shoved you into the changing room and convinced you that it cost every single penny, so you gave up and used Bucky’s black card. 

The loud noise of the slammed door came from the first floor, and you knew that your boyfriend had come home. Fuck, it has been only 15 minutes since he messaged you, and he was already there. 

You sat at the edge of the king-size bed, facing the door. And in just a few seconds, heavily breathing and slightly annoyed, Bucky stood in the door frame. If you hadn’t been dating him for almost a year now, you would’ve thought that he was angry, but the way he licked his lips and the look in his eyes while he was scanning your almost naked body told you otherwise. 

“You’re such a fucking tease, babydoll. I had an important meeting, and you just had to send me those photos, huh?” Bucky grinned at you, taking off his expensive jacket and rolling up the sleeves of the white shirt. He took small steps toward you, but you were too focused on his tattooed and veiny forearms to notice it. 

You blinked only when a soft but firm hand pressed under your chin, making you look Bucky in the eyes. The realization of how ridiculously wet you were hit you hard, and Bucky probably saw the way your cheeks blushed because his lips curled in a one-sided smirk. 

“You’re looking like the sexiest thing on the planet, but you’re blushing. God, you’re amazing, baby.” His eyes slid down your body, covered in a thin lace, and you swore that his eyes darkened within a second.

“I just thought that I became wet by just looking at your hands.” Bucky growled at your words. He took both of your hands into his, silently asking you to stand up from the bed. "Sorry for bothering you at work, I just... I don’t know.” 

“I don’t care about work as long as I can see my amazing girlfriend looking so incredible. Is this new? I know every single piece of clothing that you own; I’ve never seen this before.”

“Nat convinced me to buy this... from your card. I hope you don’t mind." Bucky chuckled at your words. 

“I told you a million times to buy whatever you wanted. My money is your money, ‘key? Now spin for me.” He lifted your hand above your head, helping you to spin around and show him every little detail of your new purchase.

The bra, which perfectly lifted your boobs, so they seemed nice and round. Matching lacy blue thongs and a garter belt that was attached to the tights sat on your waist, showing every curve of your hips. There was nothing left for imagination. You looked so soft, delicious, and sexy, but those cute little flowers all over the fabric made Bucky want to destroy you.

“So pretty, goddammit. I need you right now.” He firmly grabbed one side of your face, connecting your lips in a hot and messy kiss, while the other hand trailed its way from your neck down to your soaking wet panties. “Still can’t believe that you’re mine. The most beautiful woman on the whole fuckin’ planet.” Bucky growled into your lips, refusing to let you go. “Is that all for me? Are you so wet because of your naighty little photos or from my hands? Tell me.” Two fingers run up and down your covered folds, making you moan into Bucky’s mouth from the stimulation. 

“Both… Jamie, please. I need you.” You tried to grind your hips on his hand, but Bucky gripped your thigh and lowered his mouth onto your hot neck. 

“‘M not gonna let you get off on my hand, not today. You teased me with those sexy pictures, so I think it would be fair if I just fucked you senseless. That’s what you asked me to do anyway, right?” You just eagerly nodded, hoping that Bucky would do anything. The heat in the lower half of your stomach was almost painful, and you felt awfully empty inside, squeezing around nothing with every kiss Bucky had left on your sensitive skin. “Should I bend you over the bed? Or maybe on the floor in front of the mirror so I could see how good you feel when I fuck you?” He asked mostly himself. 

Bucky pulled away from you, admiring fresh red marks on your collarbones and neck and already knowing that you'd blame him in the morning before work. His lips were swollen and his hair was a mess, but you still bit your lip at how sexy and pretty he was. Lately, you didn’t spend much time together because of his job, and now you wanted to spend every second admiring and touching him. 

“I don’t care, Buck. I just want you, I miss you.” Your hands flew to the collar of his shirt, opening every button until his tanned chest was on full display. 

“Get on your knees and hands, doll.” Bucky mumbled, and you knew that he had lost all of his patience. 

You lowered yourself on an expensive white rug and teasinly moved your ass from side to side, looking at Bucky through the mirror. His eyes stuck on your body, and he licked his lips once again. You saw the way his pants were barely holding the hardness behind them, and your mouth instantly started watering from that thought.

“Are you going to fuck me or keep starring at my ass?” 

He smirked at your words and fell onto his knees behind you, slightly pushing his covered hips into yours and making you both moan. 

“Oh, I am going to fuck you? Don’t worry about that, doll.” The sudden slap on your ass cheek made you loudly gasp; your mouth stayed slightly open as Bucky was massaging your burning cheek with one hand and unbuckling his pants with the other. 

You felt the silky-soft skin of his cock between your legs when Bucky ran his length on your wet panties. “It’s too pretty, I don’t wanna take it off of you. ‘M just gonna push them to the side.” He took your underwear out of his way, lining the leaking tip with your wet entrance. 

You couldn’t stay steel, so Bucky had to grab your hair, raise your head, and perfectly arch your back. You whined at the slight pain from his grip, but it soon turned into a loud mixture of a moan and Bucky’s name when he pushed inside of you. 

It never failed to amaze both of you how perfect you were for each other. The sex was incredible every single time. Your body instantly adgasted for his size; your wet and soft folds gripped his cock firmly, as if your body didn’t want him ever to leave. Bucky honestly didn’t even remember the sex before you; at that time he thought it was nice, but since the first night with you, everything has become blurred, and he couldn't look at any other woman in a sexual way anymore. 

“Fuck-fuck-fuck, James!” You cried, squeezing him harder and gripping the soft material under your hands. 

“Holy shit, doll. Your pretty pussy ‘s taking me so well; she’s so greedy for my cock.” Bucky slapped your ass again at the same time as he bottomed out in you. You tried to stay focused on the reflection in the mirror, but that teasing little push of Bucky’s hips right into your g-spot made your eyes roll back. "What? You can’t handle it, baby? But that's what you asked for. You thought that you could just send me these things and not get fucked like a naughty little girl?” He chuckled, immediately increasing the speed of his thrusts. 

“I just wanted you, J-Jamie, fuck!” You cried at another slap on your ass. Red hand prints were already visible, and you knew that it would be hard to sit the next day. “I need to cum, please…”

“Already drunk with my cock?” Bucky chuckled, slightly squeezing your hair in his hand, until you opened your hooded eyes and looked at him in the mirror. “Look at you, always so perfect for me.” His blue eyes studied your reflection. Your still covered in bra tits bounced every time he pushed his cock inside of you, and Bucky felt like he became even harder because of the fact that he couldn’t see you fully naked. 

It felt like he wanted to split you in half with the power of his movements. Your skin slapped into each other, and the wet sounds of your pussy were almost too loud and inappropriate for you, but Bucky didn’t care. He moved fast and hard, mumbling praise words under his breath, which you barely understood, being too close to cum. 

“Bucky, ‘m gonna cum… Please, let me cum, ‘m so close.” You loudly moaned when your body started trembling and your hands were almost too weak to hold you up. 

“Do it, doll. I’m right behind you. Cover my cock in your cum.” Your mouth fell open, and your eyes instantly closed when you finally came, clenching around him. Bucky looked closely as your face expression changed—it was his favorite thing. 

He pushed into your tight cunt a few more times before freezing as his own orgasm came. You moaned at the feeling of his hot seed feeling you from the inside. 

“Just like that, doll. You did so well.” Bucky soothed the skin of your thigh and reddish cheek, finally loosening the grip on your hair. Your hands couldn’t hold you up anymore, and you collapsed on the soft rug with a muffled puff. 

Bucky slightly chuckled, slipping out of you, and flipped over your exhausted body so you could face him. You both were flushed and slightly sweaty. Bucky brushed your hair from your face and lowered himself to catch your lips in a slow kiss. You wrapped your arms around his strong shoulders until he fell on top of you. 

“I’ll call Nat so she can take you shopping tomorrow. Use my black card and get yourself everything that you like, because now I want to see you in every possible shade and variation of lingerie, doll.” Bucky mumbled near your ear while his hands traced the soft skin of your ribs and stomach. 

“I don’t want to spend your money, James.” You laughed. 

“Then I’ll give my card to Nat, so she can spend it on you. Because I won’t leave you alone anymore, doll. You drive me crazy looking like this.” He started kissing your neck, going lower to your chest. You just sighted, knowing damn well that there’s no point in arguing and that your amazing boyfriend would find a way to make you buy more lingerie. “Are you ready for round two? Because I really wanna put those pretty tits in my mouth.” 

Whatever you wanted to say died on your tongue with the first touch of Bucky’s wet tongue, and your brain went completely blank. 

[arseholism]

[ Wow, you're seriously going to attempt reading about me?? Alright then, before we begin this long and tiresome charade, let's go over the basic information you NEED to know and understand.. ] [ NO! i do not want to subscribe to your OF] [ I don't "want" you. I don't "need" you. I don't want to "come see you". ] [ Please for the love of whatever you love most, do not bother telling me this post offended you]

[ Aw you look beautiful when you’re smiling! Love those shoes too ;) ]

[ Alright, get comfortable my darling ] [ I love people, i just don't find many interesting. So technically, the law of averages works against you.] [ You might be awesome.. please, feel welcome to change my mind ] [ Okay, Lets go. ] [ My name is Arias ]

[ You pronounced that wrong! ] [ I like coffee ] [ I like people. I wouldn't be able to live without people.] [ I love talking ] [ You don't know me ] [ You probably wouldn't understand me even if you did ] [ I'm From London ] [ I also live in Los Angeles, Sydney and New york ] [ Because i can ] [ I travel a lot ] [ I'm 6'3 ] [ I like short girls ] [ Not midgets. Short girls ] [ My dad's white, my mum's spanish .. Incase you wondered ]

[ I love American accents! They’re so fucking cute!! ]

[ I'm English ] [ Yes i have an accent, it's london with a hint of sydney] [ I like it.. ] [ No you probably will never hear it ] [ I've played Piano, Guitar and Violin since i was 4 ] [ I write lyrics and music when i'm bored ] [ No i will not write you a song ] [ Yes i can sing ] [ No i will not sing for you ] [ I love to cook ]

[ No i will not cook for you ] [ I'm blunt so i can be an arsehole ] [ I'm quite nice in general ] [ I'm passive, i really don't give a fuck ] [ Unless i care.. then I absolutely give a fuck ] [ I won't suck up just so you like me ] [ I do what I want ] [ I do not like cameras, in case you’re wondering why my page isn’t littered with selfies ] [ No i will not be your trick monkey ] [ or your human puppet ] [ enough. ] [ Make me smile, make me laugh, i'll get addicted to you ] [ I'm a cuddle whore ] [ I'm attracted to pretty faces and beautiful smiles ] [ I'm a dreamer ] [ I love to plan dreamy dates and sensational moments] [ I have sleep issues. I like my issues ] [ I love to read ] [ I think you're spiffy because you're still reading this ] [ I'm bored right now, so i may NEVER stop. ] [ I LOVE to cook. I even bake my own bread haha ] [ If you tak lyke dis, dun fuhkin tak 2 me mkay? ] [ Right. got that off my chest ] [ I swim, i run, i eat unhealthy, my body is so confused, but it's pretty to look at? ] [ I love music, i have way too much music for one guy ] [ I love kids, i have 3 god children and they rock my world ] [ I'm opinionated and judgemental, however, i will listen to your opinion and i will listen to your side of the story] [ I'm hopelessly romantic ] [ I'm very very very picky ] [ No. I'm not looking for anything or anyone ] [ Romance.. is so misunderstood ] [ I'm broken ] [ No. You can't fix me ] [ Wow. I didn't stop. You didn't stop. We're still here and we're meant to be *gushes* haha ] [ I'll probably adopt. ] [ I'm always bored ] [ I like conversation ] [ I love to read ] [ I don't like pictures, i figure that if there is something beautiful enough, it'll burn into my memory ] [ I however, do not want you to hit on me ] [ I can be very perverted ] [ No, this does not imply i want to talk dirty ] [ Or.. that i want you to talk dirty ] [ Please try not to be too creepy.. PRETTY PLEASE? ] [ I'm also very moralistic ] [ I love my imagnation ] [ I have a major oral fetish ] [ Do we have things in common? ] [ No, You could probably never be my dream girl ] [ I have never had a one night stand ] [ Yes, i'm very picky and fucking frustrating ] [ Are you Captain Entertainment? Sent to rescue me from the trescherous depths of boredom? ] [ Didn't think so.. ] [ I love cookies, they make me happy ] [ I love cold miserable rainy weather ] [ I'm cheeky ] [ I'm complicated ]

[ I'm curious ]

[ Did the brackets annoy you? ]

[ Stupid word count ]

[ Go on.. Judge me! ]

[ Message me if you still want more ]

[poomphuripan]

what do you think of the comments on mdl of my stand in calling ming a cheater?

hi nonnie []~(￣▽￣)~* that's actually something i've been thinking to write about because i saw those remarks as well but it is such a controversial thing to discuss. if you don't mind, this discussion post will be filled with mild spoilers of the novel.

!!!!!! novel spoilers warning !!!!!!

alright so first of all, @ineffable-opinions wrote an excellent post about the danmei tropes in my stand-in (which i highly recommend everyone to read). this is a great post as they discussed the white moonlight trope presented in my stand-in.

i don't consider ming, a cheater because as i see it, tong was simply ming's white moonlight. ming never established a physical nor emotional connection with tong, throughout his time knowing joe. tong was always an idealised fantasy, he's mistaken it for it to be love. in other words, i see it as ming looking up tong like a delulu fanboy with an idol crush than him actually having any substantive feelings for tong ever. i mean if you had a partner that looked like a kpop idol, and sex with your partner makes you feel like you're achieving your sexual fantasy, are you cheating on your partner? maybe? maybe not? probably controversial and debatable question but for me, i don't consider it 'cheating'. i do think ming took for granted joe's genuine feelings and did not fully appreciate joe's affection (ming you ungrateful bish, repent).

during their time together playing pseudo 'not boyfriends', ming showed that he could be an okay partner. whether it's caring about joe's day at work, how hard joe's job as a stuntman, accepting joe's invitation to accompany him to his wrapped filming party.

i mean it's really bare minimum but that's already quite a lot coming from the dude who's afraid as hell once joe started mentioning the 'faen' word, triggering his self-defense mechanism, depreciating himself trying to claim that joe wouldn't be able to stand him.

i think one of the most obvious example of how afraid ming was to lose this relationship, was him using the word 'faen' in the last breakup fight with joe. this line was very ironic of him to say, because i'm sure even ming knows this line applies more to himself (how in this life, ming won't be able to find a better boyfriend than joe).

i absolutely love ming's emotion progression in ep 4 because it encapsulates perfectly his 21 year old spoiled brat attitude. he was confused when broken up over the phone, then mad and started throwing tantrum trying to get joe to coax him (like joe always does), until he realized it wouldn't work this time and he started frantically begging for joe to stay so they could go back to playing house and being happy.

personally, i don't consider it cheating because by around ep3/4, you can already started seeing ming settling down with the option that makes him "happy". some may even argued that by this point, he has 'recognized' his feelings (not me though, i think he just wanted his simple happiness/domestic bliss back, i still think it's during the period he lost joe 1.0 that he learned what love truly is).

now the most important question of all: is ming cheating on joe 1.0 with joe 2.0 or vice versa?

to quote chapter 63 of Professional Body Double (My Stand-In novel), i think the author puts it best how ming views joe 2.0.

He has fallen to the point of looking for the shadow of that person in a substitute. This is his punishment. When he thought that he was using [Joe] as [Tong]’s substitute, he was not aware of the actual person who had entered his heart. He had failed miserably with this method but still could not help himself from wanting to try. There are no other reasons. Just that he was in too much pain. He can’t endure anymore. He was adamant that [Joe] is not dead but no one could confirm it. That little doubtful voice in his heart is getting louder and louder, but is roughly suppressed by him time and time again. To continually be persistent with this thought, he needed a lot of willpower. He knew better than anyone else. Even if this [Joe] could bring him a little comfort, he wanted to be close to him, just like a long frozen person wanting to be close to a matchstick. This can’t save him… but he couldn’t stop himself from taking that little warmth.

i LOVE this metaphor and this little inner thought of ming we got because we can see how he's very much aware that he's falling right back into the bad habit that got him into trouble in the first place but... he's a fucking fool... who resorts to spiritual shamans for hope...

but also the familiarity he got from joe 2.0 is way too strong to joe 1.0. so for me, i'm seeing it as ming is using joe 2.0 as a means for comfort and relief as well as keeping him close to observe the similarities between him and joe 1.0, rather than viewing joe 2.0 as a replacement for joe 1.0 (because keep in mind, at this point he doesn't know they're the same person yet).

so !!!!!!!!! BIG WARNING of spoilers from the novel !!!!!!!!! if joe had considered joe 2.0 to be a direct replacement of joe 1.0, i don't think he would have had this conversation with joe 2.0 about joe 1.0.

Ming spoke right at this time. His voice sounded very faint and very soft, “Joe, are you hiding something from me?” Joe didn’t know what Ming meant by this. He asked cautiously, “I don’t understand what Khun Ming means.” Ming, “The feelings you give me is too familiar. It’s as if I’ve known you and have lived with you before. Why is this?” Joe forced himself to responded, “Maybe this is fate.” If it wasn’t because they are fated, they would not be in the predicament of today…with a relationship that is so unclear in both past and current lifetimes. “Joe. Tell me….If a person had been missing for more than two years, do you think he may still be alive?” Joe’s tensed up and smiled, “Most likely impossible. If still alive, he would have come back already.” “Why can’t he be alive? It could be that he didn’t come back because he doesn’t want to come back.” Joe is silent for a moment, “Khun Ming, are you talking about the other Joe?” Joe clearly felt Ming’s body stiffened. Then Ming asked, “How much do you know about him?” “I don’t know anything at all. I just heard from what others have said.” Ming quietly asked, “Then do you know what relationship I have with him?” Joe’s heart tightened, What relationship? You say, what relationship? He clenched his teeth in the dark, “I don’t know.” Ming’s voice is like the rising of the quiet abyss, cold and empty, “I feel that he’s not dead. He just doesn’t want to come back.” Joe heard his own voice dissociated from his thoughts and automatically asked, “Why won’t he want to come back?” Ming didn’t respond to his question, instead he tightened his arms around Joe.

i like that in the 2.0 timeline, we got ming learning but also not learning his dumbass mistakes at all. ming learned that he should be upfront about his feelings and be straightforward with his sexual partner, but at the same time he's still impatient, hot tempered and say hurtful things easily.

so i think through and through the second half of the series, you'll see his fidelity to joe (the soul) only. while perhaps it was the shadow of a back that mesmerized ming in the first place, but it's the kindhearted soul of joe that ming truly fell in love with, the person that showed him what love means, the only period in his life where he felt happiness.

© gif courtesy of the talented @alienwlw

you can also check out @befuddledcinnamonroll and @ineffable-opinions discussion on matters of transmigration, attachment of the soul with the body in their excellent posts, here and here. to sum it up, i think up kinda succintly puts it here in this interview.

of course, this is not to excuse dating/fucking anyone who resembles your missing ex but then treating them like they're your object ;_; like i'm just saying i don't think what ming is doing with joe 2.0 can be categorized as cheating (for me). it's something scummy, foolish, dumb, really stupid but... not cheating ┗( T﹏T )┛.

also if you notice, ming doesn't sleep around. surely he could have slept with dozen of nice looking man with similar physique to joe 1.0 to "keep the warmth" if he was that type of dude... but he doesn't... so for me, i see this proposal he has for joe 2.0 is not simply because of a physical attraction/similarity to joe, but it's the vibe/the aura/the ✨energy✨ that joe 2.0 radiates that is too similar to joe 1.0, drawing ming to him again.

tldr: ming is a lot of things but for me, i would never characterize him as a cheater. ming is a scummy, spoiled, arrogant, entitled, hot tempered hi-so brat but also a foolish little crying bag with zero wife-chasing skills. his only tactic is begging and getting his waterworks flowing.

ps: i'm not sure if this ask actually answers your question at all but hopefully some of my thoughts made sense ಥ_ಥ

[xxsycamore]

methinks......... lactation

TWO OF YOU?! I'm kinkshaming you!! *proceeds to write this*

TW: PREGNANCY

Napoleon + lactation (we're assuming cisfem reader for this one)

Now that you're nice and bred, having Napoleon's eyes on you is the norm - he just can't let you out of his sight, you must be safe and protected at all times. That means he notices every little change in your body, the same body that he might as well know better than you do... you should have expected this. Yet it probably comes out of the blue, one night while you're changing for bed and slipping into that nightgown that is specially selected to accommodate your growing bump. Napoleon is there to assist you, pulling your hair free from the back of the neckline once you pulled it over your head, sliding his hands down the curves of your body until he lets them rest on your belly... and then begins to slide them up again, on your front. And then he asks, "Do you feel them any different? They've gotten a little heavier, it seems."

And really, did you feel the change? You're probably a little embarrassed by how Napoleon figuratively puts you under a looking glass, waiting for the signs of your advancing pregnancy... his hands are groping your breasts, delicately covered by the fine lace of the nightgown, but he's being very gentle. He expects them to be sensitive, and you're yet to give him an answer so he might remove his hands altogether, always careful not to make you uncomfortable.

And if you mutter something about your breasts having begun to leak milk, he won't be able to keep his composed expression. You're still in front of the mirror, after all. All you have to do is look at the reflection, and you'll be able to see this lust darkening the normally clear aquamarine pools of his eyes. Maybe you find it a little unexpected, depending on how you feel about this, but either way Napoleon will push this sudden emotion away, collect your chin and turn it around for a kiss. He can tell when you're nervous about sharing something with him, so he's quick to reassure. "Your body is beautiful." "This is normal and expected." "Tell me if I could help you in any way."

In fact, there is a way for him to help - maybe they really have begun to ache a little, in a way you're unfamiliar with, but you figure it won't hurt to try - or maybe your pregnancy just simply makes you horny about his hands on your boobs. Either way, you two get to that point, and Napoleon being Napoleon, he gives your breasts the usual dose of attention and some more - and while his beautiful strong hands knead your breasts with the intention to massage, something you both knew would happen happens, and a single milky-white droplet travels down the gap of his fingers.

It's strange because neither of you cares much about making a mess while being intimate, yet you have the same reaction about something needing to be done here. And maybe that's when Napoleon follows that droplet and catches it with his tongue. You might avert your gaze and call out his name scoldingly, but he's going to chuckle and wait for you to look back at him. There's a silent question hanging in the air above you that you're both very much aware of. And maybe you do give him consent...

Once you give in, you're going to wonder why you didn't think of this sooner - but you can't help it, the sight of Napoleon putting your nipple in his mouth is obscene. It's a funny thing, considering how you've seen the exact same sight hundreds of nights, including the one that put you in that state, yet you can't help it. Napoleon drags the tip of his tongue around your darkened areola before he takes the engorged nipple in his mouth, and he suckles on it. And the feeling is a little weird and new, and also so good, as your breast gradually begins expressing milk. He's always been so kind to you. So ready to help. To give you pleasure. It really is no different.

You will be a little surprised when he shifts a little to a more comfortable position and you find out that he's doing this because his pants have become uncomfortably tight on his groin. If you put your hands on his cheek to make him let go and ask him how is this making him hard, he'll look you with those lust-crazed eyes, breathing just a little heavier than usual when he's buried in your chest, and you won't be able to miss the way he licks his lips clean before speaking to you, expression becoming a tad more serious just for a moment. "I can't help it. The sight of you being so motherly, becoming like that because of what I did to you... it makes me desire you like crazy. Forgive me for being so dirty, Nunuche."

Will you forgive him? Will you stroke his cock while he nurses from you? If you do, you might have discovered a new special kink you and Napoleon are going to participate in for a while... After the birth of your child, your breasts are bound to be in need of relief when you produce excessive milk. You'll be grateful that you left yourself in Napoleon's care, as he eagerly turns your aches to a content pleasure surging all over. He might finger you while he sucks mouthfuls of milk out of your breasts, delighted at how fast he's able to make you cum on his hand. Just don't indulge him too much, or as soon as you stop lactating he's going to think about knocking you up again.

7/10 "I'm just showing my thankfulness for your body that is working to nurture our child. Isn't that what a loving husband is supposed to do? Come now, sit on my lap and let me do this for you. I promise I'll try to hold off from bending you over at least until I'm done relieving you."

-> (ALWAYS OPEN) send me a kink & I’ll give you a headcanon and rating for Napoleon!

🦶foot fetish 🥵breeding kink 🥕pregging 😈dom/sub 🍈breast kink ⛓bondage 🩸period kink 👄marking 🐺predator/prey 🏙public sex 🤗praise kink 👅 cunnilingus 🍌blowjobs (receiving) 🚪getting caught 🖐️masturbation

[fictional-magic]

by the glue,

coquette!singer!reader x actor!sirius black

summary: after a long parting, he's finally stuck to you after a year.

you stand on the stage, adrenaline rushing, but not too much because it's habitual to you now. you're still happy about how many people stand and singalong to your feelings poured out as songs. you decided to wear a long white skirt with mid-ruffles, and a bubblegum pink top which had the name of your latest album (the one you will be singing in a few minutes) with bold dark pink letters. you have satin pink ribbons braided in your hair, tied like small bows near the ends of your hair.

your mic goes on and you start talking first, the princess-y smile comes naturally with your playful conversations with the fans. the first track is a sweet one, with light flirting and about being attached to someone like glue in love. you sit on the edge of the stage for this one, dangling your legs and occasionally pointing your mic at the fans who probably know the lyrics better than you.

don't forget to kiss me, or else you'll have to miss me i guess i'm stuck forever by the glue, aren't you?'

words flow out like sweetness from you, pouring until you're painted in smiles and rainbows. as you sing, you remember him. the one you wrote this song about. you both were practically inseparable in uni, and the high school sweethearts too. it feels wrong to reminisce like you're 50 when it's really only been two years since college, but it feels like a really long time since then. it's not a good feeling to have to be mature and all grown up suddenly. and he helped you through that transition.

you remember and miss a very very handsome, beautiful, cute, and every-word-under-that-umbrella man. you haven't met him since a year, and it's neither of your fault. he's busy, and you're busy. you text almost 3 times a week, and call each other on the weekends, but seeing his face and being able to touch and feel him was a long-lost dream of yours.

if he were here, maybe your smile would be more realistic and happier, maybe your days would be brighter, and nights more sleep-providing. but he's not, so you toss and turn in your bed, and panic the next morning about what to wear.

he's almost never done with his shootings, and your recording sessions seem endless to the both of you. when he's doing interviews, you're at home. when you're doing concerts, he's at home. it's exhausting and almost impossible to find timings where the both of you are unoccupied.

no, silly, focus on singing!

you come back to the matearilistic worls and start genuinely thinking about the soft notes you hit while you're humming. your earpiece tickles your ear a bit just then, while you're walking on the stage like frolicking through a huge field with daisies and peonies around. your manager's voice pops in through the small device, "black's here. he's standing backstage!" and even your manager sounds excited to know you won't be so sad anymore. the song ends with a last hum, and with an apologetic voice, you murmur into the mic,

"i'm so sorry everyone, i have to leave for just a moment, i'll be back in a few minutes, i promise!" and you do manage to hear a few groans and chants of your name while you run backstage after keeping the mic on a random stand.

you shout, "sirius? are you here?" you're still quite unsure if you're manager's saying the truth. she has been known to play a few mean pranks every now and then. "sirius?" you say again, hope laced around your voice.

"hi!" he whispers as he warps his arms around you from behind in the dark, dimly lit backstage. you can still figure out from his clothes' feel, that he's wearing something leather.

"sirius!" your voice hold a giddyness, and you smile bright enough to light up the entire place for sirius. you hug him tightly as tears run down your face, happy or sad you aren't sure.

"missed you so much siri, you have no idea."

"hey, you should really go back onstage." he says, with a light kiss on your forehead.

"we'll catch up after a while yeah? fuck, wanted to see you so bad, doll." he kisses you on the lips now, and you wrap your hands around his neck instinctively as he reaches for your waist. it feels oh so wonderful to explore the lips and mouth of the man you've been thinking about for a whole year. and, just like that, you're stuck together lke glue again, rest of the world be damned.

[cripplecharacters]

Hello! For a fic I am writing, a main character who uses a walking stick is temporarily blinded and has to use it in the moment as a makeshift white cane to not run into things. How difficult would it be for her to move forward while she had to use it that way? Are there any pitfalls in specific I should look out for? Thank you!

Hello,

A few things to keep in mind-

She would need to remove the protective rubber tip or else it wouldn't be good for anything other than "there's a large obstruction right there."

She probably wouldn't know how to use it effectively. A lot of blind people need to be taught how to use their canes, especially when they were blinded by trauma rather than naturally. Using a white cane effectively takes knowledge and practice, neither of which she has.

A walking stick is made from very different materials. A white cane is specifically made to send vibrations to the person using it, but a lot of canes are made so that the vibrations don't go to the person using it, because it causes fatigue. Depending on what kind of cane handle she has (an offset handle is usually padded and a derby handle is usually rubber or something similar,) she might need to bypass the handle entirely.

It probably won't be long enough, even if it's an adjustable cane and she's using it as short as it can go. I'll let Sasza explain.

Doesn't she still need the walking stick? Temporarily blind or not, depending on her condition, she might not be able to just start walking without her walking stick and everything's fine. Just something to consider.

It might be best if she goes for a different improvised white cane. Her walking stick probably won't work the way you think it will.

Mod Aaron

Hi, I'm not blind, but I use a walking cane. I agree with what Aaron has already said, but would like to add that a walking cane is simply too short for what a white cane does. My cane reaches to my wrist - if it was a white cane, it would go somewhere to my shoulder.

In the past, I have had a time where I would probably benefit from a white cane if it wasn't temporary (TLDR: eye surgery complications, I was unable to open my eyes for a few weeks), and I really don't see a scenario where using my current cane would be particularly helpful. I just did stuff by touch. You walk slower, pay attention to what's in front of you, and feel what's around you with hands or feet. If it's close enough that you'd feel it with a walking cane, you're either already tripping over it or you just stabbed yourself with the handle of the cane right into the stomach or wherever you were holding it. Potentially both.

In my non-blind, no O&M training, walking cane user experience, sighted guide would be the most helpful, hands and feet would be second (I have gotten toe pain way too many times from slamming my shoe into something, but hey it's better than walking into the wall), walking cane would be somewhere at the very very end. It feels like more of a hindrance to be honest, and I feel like your character would feel a similar way after trying it out.

I hope this helps!

mod Sasza