#as opposed to L and Light for example. who had So Much More going on

[empressofthewind]

Not to be That Guy but I'm so happy to see that meme format used with someone other than Mello. Like yeah Mello has very deeply complicated feelings about Near that are often most effectively summarised as hatred but he never wanted Near dead and that's a hill I will forever die on

[missdawnandherdusk]

My Type

(Hufflepuff!*)Reader X Draco

Fourth Year

There was a time when I was alone

Nowhere to go and no place to call home

My only friend was the man in the moon

And even sometimes he would go away, too

Summary: (Original request form @darcypottah​) The events of the summer between fourth and fifth year unfold and you find yourself at Malfoy Manor more than you expected. 

A/n: Okay, so I might have said that these summer ones would be shorted, but that was before I started writing it... so yeah it’s like 10k words. But every one of them is so cute and ugh, I’m in love you guys. It’s got fluff, it’s got angst, it’s got magic, what more could you want? Let me know what you think!! Also see the end note for some thoughts from me and my posting schedule!! Love y’all so much 

“Malfoy?” My mother asked. “You want to go to Malfoy Manor?” She was trying very hard not to yell at me and I could tell as I bit my lip and looked down.

“Draco invited me,” I argued weakly. “He... um.”

“He what? He’s tormented you for three years Y/n. And now you want to go to the lion’s den?” Her voice was raising as the invitation in her hand fluttered about with her spastic movements.

“It’s not like that mother,” I insisted. “He’s... you wouldn’t understand,” I shook my head, wrapping my arms around myself defensively. “No one understands.”

My mother took a deep breath and set the parchment on the mantle, facing the fire, her back to me.

“Your father would understand,” She whispered softly. “He always saw the best in people...”

My eyes dropped to the floor as my stomach sank because we were thinking the same thing: it was his trust in people that had led to his death in the first war, and now my mother thought it was happening again. After what happened with... Cedric and the rumors about...she was frantic about protecting me.

“Mother, please. Draco asked me to come. He sent an invitation,”

I looked to the fancy paper marked with the Malfoy seal: an invitation to a Summer Solstice Ball at the manor. I took a deep breath.

“He’s alone, mother. You have to see that,”

It killed me that she had kept me here all summer because of the news of what occurred during the Triwizard Tournament. My thoughts often lingered to Draco as I wrote to Abby explaining why I couldn’t come over to see her, as was the usual of my summers. I didn’t write to him, explaining, and though I wanted to... I found myself staring at a blank page with too many words and not enough to say.

“Very well, you may go,” She finally sighed out. “But Abby will be your plus one,”

My heart soared as I thanked her, hugging her and taking the invitation, rushing to my room to write to Abby and to tell Draco I was coming after all.

Abby was ecstatic about the invite and teased me about liking Draco still, but again, I insisted that we were friends, and that was all. It was a friendly thing to do, invite me to the Ball, and it was friendly when I responded:

~

Draco,

I’ll be there, I promise. Mother’s making me bring Abby—not that I don’t want her to come as my plus one, but it is first and foremost my mother’s wishes. I can’t wait to see you.

Your Hufflepuff,

Y/n

P.S. Yes, I’ve sent the invitation back with the proper RSVP. It’s included with this letter.

~

It was two weeks before the party, I could wait two weeks. Right?

_______________________

“What is that?” His father demanded, coming up behind him.

Draco flinched and quickly hid your letter behind the invitation.

“Another has RSVP’d to the ball, from school,” Draco responded coolly, counting the seconds until his father responded in tense anticipation.

“I see,” His father’s eyes narrowed. “Very well. Your mother and I are going out for the evening. We shall be back in the morning.”

“Yes father,” Draco sighed.

All summer, since the Dark Lord had returned, his parents had been going to meetings non-stop, leaving him alone at the manor. In the quiet of the house, away from the house-elves, he had read through your book about three times, pouring into the pages, finding comfort in knowing that the book was all that he had to know that you were real and not a figment of his imagination.

Behind the locked door of his room, he took your letter out and smiled. Though he was bitter that you hadn’t come, or written to him all summer, it all went away when he saw the letter upon the dining table.

Taking out his own parchment, he stared at it, wanting to write you back, but having no idea what to say, or how to respond that would make sense and not make him look like he was holding onto your every word—because he wasn’t. He was just fine. And you were just a friend.

A week remained until the ball, and his parents were barely at the manor despite the fact. The house elves were cleaning religiously each day, so he spent his days outside, under a tree, reading your book.

________________________________

Abby arrived two days before the party, and after the initial excitement of seeing each other, we had time to fawn over our dresses and laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

“Is there a reason your dress is green,” Abby drawled. “To match a certain Slytherin we know?”

“No,” I refuted, growing red. “It was my mother’s. I’ve made adjustments of course, but it has nothing to do with Draco,” I defended.

“Who said I meant Draco?” Abby grinned.

I gave her a pointed look and rolled my eyes, failing to hold back a smile.

“I can’t believe you got invited to a Malfoy party,” Abby sighed wistfully as we lay awake, the stars coming out to play.

“It’s not that big a deal,” I laid on my back, staring at the swirling stars that lingered on my ceiling. “And, I did say I would come visit him over the summer,”

“You miss him,” It wasn’t a question, it was a melancholy statement.

“Somedays, yes.” I confessed, taking a breath in. “It’s harder at night... after you know...”

“What did happen between you two on that day? At the tournament? There was something that you knew, that really freaked you out. I know you Y/n, you rarely get that bad for Pomfrey to give you all three,” Abby sat up, looking over at me.

“I know, and... what Dumbledore said... about... you know... and my dad... and Cedric... It was too much that night, it still is most nights,” I sat up and hugged my knees. “And he was right there. He was as scared as I was... and he still... stayed.”

“I know I tease you about it a lot, but you know it is okay to like him, right?” Abby looked over at me, a soft look on her face.

“I know,” A smile touched my lips. “But I don’t know if either of us is ready for anything more than what we have now.”

That thought stopped me from writing to him constantly or doing something Slytherin worthy to go and see him. We needed to figure out what we needed, and right now, a friend was that.

The night of the Ball, Abby and I spent hours getting ready in my room, music playing for hype. It was great fun, preparing for the unknown with Abby. It calmed my nerves about seeing Draco for the first time in about a month.

“See, you should have gone to the Yule Ball with us,” She pointed out, setting an embellished headband in my hair, her options now much smaller that I had cut it, not that I was complaining. It was the easiest getting ready I ever had.

“Like I would have made it through that night,” I scoffed.

“What makes this one different?” The challenge caught me in my tracks, and I knew the answer deep down, but I was in denial about it: I had said yes to Draco this time.

The Malfoy Manor held up to its expectations as Abby and I arrived, greeted by a house-elf that asked for our names. After giving them and being escorted inside, our coats ushered off, I paused, taken aback by the glittering scene before me. It was like I had stepped into one of my books and it was a proper royal ball. My eyes scanned the sea of people, looking for silvery blond hair that I knew to be Draco, but I couldn’t see him in the crowd.

Abby took my arm and we headed into the throng of people, and I tried to ignore the stares that lingered on the two of us. I recognized several people from the Ministry, and professors from school, and of other places that were highbrow. Many greetings were exchanged, and I was becoming slightly overwhelmed, making my way to the outskirts of the noise.

“Miss Y/l/n,” The icy tone tipped me off that I was being called by a Malfoy.

“Mr. Malfoy,” I smiled politely, dipping in a slight bow. “May I congratulate you on your party,” My compliment was light and airy, opposed to the deep dark look Lucius Malfoy was giving me.

“Yes,” The word held disappointment and a thousand meanings. “You look so much like your mother,” His eyes all but stripped me. My hands clenched as I took a sharp breath in. “I believe she wore that before you,”

“Yes,” I responded blithely.

“It suits you as it did her, a fine Slytherin at Hogwarts,” There was a challenge in his eyes, as if he were trying to find what would make me come undone.

“She was,” I smiled, thinking of her and the comfort the thought gave.

“I heard that you are Hufflepuff, like your father then?” His eyes narrowed, disgust in his voice.

“Yes sir,”

“A shame he died in the war,” Lucius gave off hand. “Must have been difficult to grow up without a father,” There was no pity or sentiment in his voice.

I grit my teeth, pursing my lips together.

“He died for something he believed in,” I whispered. “It was the greatest example he could have set for me,” There was a fire in my eyes as I looked into a cold stare.

Lucius opened his mouth to say something, but I felt a hand at the small of my back and from my peripheral vision I could see blond hair and a cold look.

“Father, I see you’ve met Y/n, she attends Hogwarts with me,” His voice dripped acid as he took a small step in front of me.

“Yes, she is quite charming,” It was a lie. “If you’ll excuse me. And Draco, do not forget, you owe your mother a dance,”

As soon as his father was out of sight, I all but sagged in relief, turning to Draco. There was a small smile on his lips, and I greeted it with one of my own.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“You’re okay?” There was concern in his voice.

I nodded and looked back to the way Lucius had left. I took a deep breath and let his comments slide off of my shoulders. I wouldn’t let him ruin my night.

“You... um... look lovely,” Draco stammered as we stood there, quite awkwardly.

“Thank you,” my cheeks flushed a slight pink like his. “You’re rather handsome yourself.” He was in a well-tailored suit with a green tie that held the same hue as my dress.

“Thank you,” A smile caught his lips as his cheeks reddened.

“So, this is a Ball,” I mused, looking out onto the happy party goers. “It’s very warm,”

“Depends on the company you keep,” His voice got colder for the moment, no doubt his thoughts directing towards his father.

“Well, I hope I’m good company,” I baited, grinning at him. 

“You’ll do,” He grinned back, offering his arm.

I took it, walking along the halls surrounding the party, all lit with hundreds of fairy lights. A few hellos and introductions were made as we walked along. Seeing Snape outside of the school halls was a bizarre experience.

“Why didn’t you write sooner?” The question was soft as Draco and I found another moment alone.

“I’m really sorry about that. My mother was being overly protective,” I muttered as we walked among the outskirts of the party. “I did want to,” I clarified.

“It’s been so dull here. My parents are always out...”

“And they just leave you here?” I was slightly appalled. “You could have written me, we could have figured something out,”

“You said your mother was being overly protective,” he pointed out. “Besides, it’s fine. It’s done now,”

“I’m sorry Draco, if I had known,”

“Well, you’re here now, aren’t you?” He gave a hesitant smile. “A few others from school are here as well, I believe Abby already found them.” He changed the subject quickly and put up a front I knew all too well.

“I’m sure she did. She has a knack for that,” My tone became somber as I found the same mask he did and donned it.

He led me to a sitting room off the main foyer where a group of students from Hogwarts chatted and lounged. Most of them I recognized from Slytherin but there were a few others from different Houses.

“Y/n!” Abby called. “I was wondering where you went, you just vanished,” she scolded in a soft voice not to raise attention.

“I’m sorry, I don’t like large crowds, you know that,” My voice dropped to a mutter, while I fidgeted with the lace on my dress.

“I guess it’s a good thing I brought her back then?” Draco smirked, joining our conversation and bringing Pansy with him.

“Oh, like you didn’t go looking for her,” Pansy baited. “Merlin, you two,” She muttered under her breath

I felt my cheeks blush as Abby handed me a glass of what I hoped was not alcoholic. A gentle sip and I knew it wasn’t. I didn’t prefer the carbonated drink however, so I held it politely with no intention of drinking more.

“Is it better in here?” Draco’s voice was low and soft, I barely heard him.

I gave a small inconspicuous nod and a smile.

“Let me know if you need a break,” he whispered and then went to talk with Crabbe and Goyle.

My face warmed up again as I leaned against the wall, talking with Abby and Pansy about the party and the people and what we had done over the summer thus far. It was great fun, and a warm atmosphere but I found myself slipping into a sort of panic, as too many questions were asked, and the noise rose. My fingers thrummed against the glass as I got more fidgety.

“Excuse me,” I whispered, setting my glass down.

“Do you need me to come with you?” Abby asked concerned.

“No, I just need some air... I’ll... yeah,” I swept out of the room without another word and found myself hopelessly lost in the large house.

“There you are,” Draco’s annoyed voice came from behind me. “Seriously, Y/n you can’t just roam around here alone.” He hissed; fear hidden in his eyes letting me know that it was dangerous to be alone tonight.

“I’m sorry,” my gaze dropped. “I...” sighing, I shrugged.

“If you don’t like crowds and lights and noise, why did you come?” He asked, his tone softer as he led me in a better direction, it still stung though.

“I don’t know,” I confessed softly. “I thought I’d give it a try... and I... I missed you.”

“You missed me?” He scoffed, rolling his eyes as if he couldn’t believe it. “Am I not allowed to miss you?” I demanded, watching disbelief flit across his face.

“I guess,” he led me down a long hall, and to a smaller foyer that had a door leading outside.

Guiding me through the door, he took my hand in the moonlight and led me with practice down a path to a small garden of roses. I took great care in walking, not trusting myself completely in the heels I wore. The lights around us began to illuminate, and fairy lights twinkled all around, lighting the rose garden and the two of us.

“Is this quiet enough?” His demeanor had changed, his voice now colored with concern again.

I nodded and sat upon a bench, taking a deep breath, toying with my dress again. He sat beside me, as the same awkwardness from the Tournament and earlier hovered over us. Like whatever walls we had between us were gone, and it was just him and I out here; not Houses or expectations or our pasts. It was nerve wracking. Instead of focusing on that, I watched the stars swirl in the night sky above us.

“Lovely view,” I commented softly.

“Too bad it’s just us out here,” He sighed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, curiosity stretching a smile on my face as I stole a glance.

“Well, isn’t it a bit... I don’t know,” He took a sharp breath in and shrugged. “Romantic?”

I let out a soft laugh, hope fluttering in my chest, in vain of course, but it was there all the same. A blush rose to my cheeks as I focused on anything that wasn’t him.

“Maybe,” I murmured.

“Some other couple would love this,” He gestured softly, and I rolled my eyes, finally giving in and looking at him.

“And why can’t we enjoy it?” I challenged. “Shame to waste a lovely night,”

He gave me a flat look and stood.

“You can’t be serious,” Draco scoffed and faced away from me. “You’re not my type.”

A laugh bubbled through my lips as I stood.

“Really?” I dared. “And who is? Pansy maybe?” I took the few steps that laid between us, so that we were side by side again, gazing over the night sky.

He shrugged and didn’t say anything.

“I think I’ll be the one to make that call though,” I decided. “Of course, I’d never fall for you,” I scoffed at the mere thought and rolled my eyes, seeing if he would play my game.

“And what makes you think you get to make that decision? Are you going to make it for me?” His eyes found mine, his eyebrows raised.

“Of course not,” I narrowed my eyes at him, “But, you’re right, this would be nice for some girl who feels the chance that there’s some sort of romance but,” I shrugged teasingly. “I’m feeling nothing,” A smirk played at my lips.

He paused a moment, and I could see the gears working in his head. Would he play the game, or would he call me out on it? What call would he make?

“Is that right?” He was playing. Game on.

“Could be less than nothing,” I pressed further, turning from him, facing the rest of the manor and the rolling hills that were bathed in moonlight.

“Good to know,” He came up behind me, placing his hands at my waist. “What a waste of a lovely night then,”

______________________________

A million thoughts were swirling around Draco’s head. He had caught your game after a few comments that couldn’t be anything but teasing from your lips. He knew you too well. So, he’d play along.

You denied it, and so did he. What it was, however, was another matter. You didn’t seem to take his negating words to heart though and maybe he didn’t either.

If he would share this night with anyone, he would want it to be you. He didn’t feel this... different about anyone else. You mentioned Pansy, but he couldn’t imagine her out here with him like you were. There was something different about how you treated him that made him want it to be you.

With you so close to him, relaxing in his arms like you did the night you two accidentally ended up in the same bed, he felt the similar peace that you held about yourself.

“Draco,” His mother’s voice called softly from behind him. “I thought I’d find you out here,” Draco turned, and so did you, a blush creeping across your face.

“Mrs. Malfoy,” You greeted softly. “My apologies for keep Draco away. I’m afraid I’m not one for large crowds,”

You held such decorum that he was honestly impressed. The way you spoke respectfully and with dignity was a sight to behold. It was almost devious in the way that you did it.

“Think nothing of it my dear,” Oh, his mother liked you, he could tell from the use of the pet name. “But your father is looking for you,” Her eyes met his, but all he could notice was how your face dropped.

“Of course,” He answered coldly. “Come Y/n,” He urged softly, leading you inside.

You followed wordlessly, lost in thought again by the look you held on your face. He was so preoccupied with thinking about what you were thinking, he had missed what his father said to him.

“Draco,” His father scolded sharply. “You are not to be skirting around alone with her. You have a reputation and people to impress tonight. Now, bid her a goodnight and find your mother to offer her a dance,”

How could his father still sap any joy from him with a few words?

“Goodnight Draco,” Your voice was somber as your eyes didn’t leave the floor, “Excuse me,”

Before he could get a word in, you pushed past him, down the hall toward the sitting room that held the rest of his friends, leaving him alone with his father.

“Father,” Draco snapped. “That was uncalled for,” His glare matched his father’s. 

“Excuse me?”

“Y/n is a friend,” Draco stressed. “And I won’t let you treat her that way,”

Following your lead, he left before his father could get a word in, knowing that there would be hell to pay for what he was doing, but he couldn’t get the image of how broken you looked out of his mind as he raced off to find you.

And he did find you. With Abby by your side, you looked as if you were about to cry. Clenching his fists and pressing back the rising anger against his father, he made his way to you quickly.

“What are you doing?” You asked hoarsely. “You need to go socialize, impress people,” It wasn’t malicious, but he still took a hit from your words.

“I’ll just... leave you guys to it,” Abby muttered, quickly making her way out of the room.

You attention turned back to him as you awaited an answer, and honestly, he did too. He had no idea why he chased after you instead of doing what he was bred to do. He should have had no problem going out into the mass of people and charming them into liking him. But their opinions didn’t matter to him. Yours did.

“Come with me,” He blurted out. “Come... out there, with me. Socialize, and...” he trailed off knowing he was crazy and stupid for asking.

“Draco, that’s... I can’t.” Your voice was hopeless. “I can’t do large crowds and people...”

“I know,” He cut you off. “But you’ll be with me, that... that always seems to help you,” It was a long shot that his observation was correct, but he was desperate on making this work at the moment.

And to his surprise, you nodded and agreed to go with him. He led you to the main room, and though you spoke softly and rarely, he could tell that people were enamored with you, wondering who you were and why you would be on his arm. You’d absentmindedly tug on his sleeve when you became overwhelmed and he’d take you to a quiet spot for a moment and let you gather yourself again before meeting someone else.

He only left you when his mother finally found him for the dance that was promised and as the night closed, he couldn’t find you again.

___________________________________

As soon as Draco let go of my arm, I felt panic slip over me as I was alone. Abby was by my side before I could blink as she grabbed my hand and led me to the coat room then outside for fresh air.

“You okay?” She asked, animate.

I nodded and pulled my cloak around myself tightly.

“Let’s get home then,” She encouraged, and we used the portkey as before and were standing outside of my front door.

Inside, I sank onto the couch, ignoring my mother’s questions as tears started to fall softly. All of my emotions came crashing down all at once and it was too much. Abby explained it all to my mother, who understood and quietly took me upstairs and helped me out of my dress and makeup, finding me soft pajamas as she brushed through my hair.

“You like this boy, don’t you?” My mother asked softly. 

I nodded hopelessly, a few more tears slipping out.

“Oh sweetheart, it’s okay,” She gathered me into her arms, and I felt safe enough to come completely undone, crying into her shoulders.

“He’s so alone momma,” I whimpered.

“I know sweetheart,” She soothed, petting my hair softly. “You remind me so much of your father, he had a heart just like yours,”

“What am I supposed to do?” The question was hopeless as I fumbled for an explanation.

“For right now, you’re going to calm down and unwind,” My mother chided. “No use worrying in something that can’t be changed right now,”

I nodded at the familiar words and took a deep breath, getting my thoughts under control. Again, and again I repeated the words my mother said. There was no use in worrying about it now. It could be dealt with in the morning. Tomorrow was another day. I had done what I could with the day and that was good enough.

Abby was waiting for me, sitting on my bed, three familiar vials in her hands. 

“I’m okay,” I confirmed. “I don’t think I need them,”

“You need to take them anyway, there’s no harm in it,” She chided, placing them in my hands. “This is twice now that he’s gotten you this worked up.”

“It’s not his fault,” I snapped venomously. I took a deep breath and composed myself. “It’s not him.”

“But these situations he’s getting you into,” Abby tried again. “This isn’t good for you Y/n,”

“I’m getting myself into these situations, well, the first one I had no control over, and I don’t know if I could have done that one without him, and tonight...” A sharp breath in and I sat on my bed beside her. “I knew it was a bad idea, I just thought I’d try,”

“You can’t do this to yourself, it’s self-destructive,” She stood, allowing me to curl up under the covers.

I toyed with the first vial, running through my fingers. Abby turned off the lights and got into her bed, settling down for the night.

“He needs someone,” I argued softly. “And... I think I do too,” 

“And you think that it should be him?”

“Yes... I think so,” I whispered, taking the first vial, making my way through the next two and falling into a dreamless sleep.

________________________________

“Draco Lucius Malfoy!” His father roared. “How dare you speak to me like that!?”

Draco flinched, and stayed quiet, knowing that saying anything would make the outcome worse. The guests had gone and all that was left in the big empty house was him, his parents and the house-elves.

“After everything that I have done for you! I even let you invite that filthy little blood traitor! And you chose her over your family!?”

Draco clenched his fists, gritting his teeth, knowing it was going to be a painful sleepless night again. Not even his mother could stop his father when he was like this.

............

Looking in the bathroom mirror, the bruises and cuts on his face and skin started to heal already from the vial he kept under the sink for nights like these. It wouldn’t be long until he could wash away the dried blood. It didn’t matter what his father did to him, he still had to look presentable, and he always had a knack for potions.

He shed his suit as quickly as possible, finding comfort in sweats and a t-shirt, neither of which were tight fitting nor insulating. It was the middle of the summer and he was shoved into a three- piece wool suit. Whose idea was that anyway?

Pacing his room, muttering under his breath, he attempted to control his thoughts and anger but failed, letting tears fall behind locked doors. He let out a yell of despair and rage, scattering the things from his desk onto the floor, staring at the carnage.

He quickly panicked when he saw spilled ink weaving its way toward your book that had been thrown about in his fury. Rescuing the book, he smoothed the pages, repressing the dandelion on its proper page, rereading the words:

“Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he is good.”

Draco had spent the few months from when you had given him the book trying to figure out why you had underlined that. He memorized it accidently and found himself repeating it whenever he felt lost. After tonight, maybe, he thought, the reason was because that’s what you saw in him.

“She’s such a Hufflepuff,” He muttered, smiling to himself. “She’s going to get herself hurt one day,” The thought sobered his mood.

He brought the book to his bed and with the bedside lamp turned on, he began to read once more, getting lost in a world filled with hope and redemption. The thoughts of his father faded, of tonight faded, of the harsh words and expectations... they all slipped away.

Consciousness faded from his eyes as sleep welcomed him like an old friend. He found himself in a wintery forest, hopelessly lost. The chill was getting to him as he wrapped his arms around himself. Crunching through the snow, he saw a light ahead, and followed it.

“Bloody hell,” He muttered, finding a lamppost. “Maybe I’ve read it one too many times,” 

“Hello?” The voice was soft and gentle, holding a familiar decorum.

He turned and saw you standing there, in a light blue long-sleeved dress with white fur accents, your hair falling about your shoulders, sweeping down to your waist—it made him miss your cropped hair, it didn’t quite look like you any longer. The frost caused your nose and cheeks to hold a red hue. You looked like you belonged in the scene around him, except for the mass of black fur in your arms.

“Well, what are you doing out in the cold?” You asked, talking to him like he was crazy, like you weren’t out in the snow as well.

“I didn’t choose to be here,” He muttered.

“Well, come on then, let’s get you warm,” You offered the mass of fur in your arms out to him and he realized that it was a thick coat.

Just as he reached for it, the dream faded into nothing.

When he woke the first bits of dawn shined through his window, and the book laid open across his chest. Rubbing his face and running a hand through his hair he sighed, setting the book on his bedside table.

“Get a grip Malfoy,” He muttered. “Fairytales aren’t real, they’re just stories... it’s stupid to believe in it,”

_____________________________

I woke in the morning, unusually early for me in the summer, and Abby was downstairs having breakfast with my mother. I paused on the stairwell—not because I almost tripped down the stairs.

“I’ve never seen her like this,” I heard Abby’s soft voice. “There’s something about him that just makes her... I can’t explain it.”

“Is she in danger?” My mother retorted. “I know the Malfoys. I know Lucius. I fear that Draco might be just like his father,”

There was a pause and I sank to the nearest stair, leaning against the railing, listening in.

“He was, for the first few years of schooling, you know it as well as I do. But when Y/n came back last year, she got a lot of attention... and I think he got jealous. She was close with Cedric last year...” Abby’s voice became somber. “I just feel like I’m missing something, something she won’t tell me,”

“She does that,” I heard the smile in my mother’s voice. “Every time I think I have her figured out, she’ll tell me something or do something that has me on my toes again. Her father was like that,”

“I think that’s a part of whatever’s going on too,” Abby noted. “Since... You-Know-Who has been rumored to be back... she’s been...”

“I know. I try so hard to keep her from it all. Which is why I don’t know if I want her to keep seeing Draco, his family was on the wrong side of the first war,”

That wasn’t new information to me, it was quite public.

“Forgive me if I’m stepping out of line, but I don’t think keeping Y/n from Draco will end well in any circumstance.” Abby muttered, chuckling darkly.

“She is stubborn that way, isn’t she?” The smile was back in my mother’s tone as I stood, deciding I had heard enough.

“Good morning sunshine,” Abby grinned obnoxiously. “Sleep long enough?”

I gave her a flat look and lumbered to the kitchen bar and sat at a stool, flopping my arms on the counter, laying my head on them. Breakfast came and past, and Abby said her goodbyes before heading home, leaving me alone by the fireplace, staring at nothing and thinking about everything.

“Why don’t you send an owl to Draco,” My mother suggested softly, setting a cup of tea near me.

I took a breath in and sighed.

“He probably hates me,” I voiced my thoughts aloud. “I left without saying goodbye... and I know he got into trouble because of me.”

“Well, if that’s the case, you can at least apologize,” There was something mischievous in my mother’s tone. “Write to him, dear,”

I sat at my desk, staring at the crumpled parchments that I had failed to write a cohesive letter on. This shouldn’t be that hard. Determined, I started again.

~

Draco,

I’m sorry about last night. I hope I didn’t get you into too much trouble and that you don’t hate me.

If you still want company and you’re not to upset with me 

I hope you’re not upset with me,

Y/n

~

There, that would do wouldn’t it? Before I could second guess anything, I sent it off. Putting it out of mind, I set outside to work on my spells for next year and to read in the summer sun. The family owl, Herman, returned later that evening, as the sun was setting over the mountain range. The barn owl dropped the letter and dove off into the wheat fields to hunt.

The parchment was expensive, I could tell by the weight and grit of it. The green wax seal held a recognizable mark. Anxiety fluttered in my chest about what was inside, and part of me worried it might not be from Draco at all, but another Malfoy.

I took a breath and opened the letter.

~

Y/n,

Why would I be upset with you? It baffles me to know what goes on inside that head of yours.

And I can handle my father’s temper. I have for years. There’s no need to worry about that.

If you want to come to the Manor, my parents are going to be gone the next month. That is if you want to, and don’t mind the circumstance. I’ll have my mother write to yours.

I’m not mad at you, stop thinking that, 

Draco

~

I ran my thumb delicately over the words on the page, a smile reaching my lips. He wasn’t mad at me. That was the biggest relief. His cryptic remark about his father worried me, however, but that could be worried about another day.

Fate was with me, because my mother consented to let me spend the afternoons at the Manor, as long as I was home for dinner. I sent a letter to Draco as soon as I found out and began to look forward to the next afternoon.

Draco met me outside the large front doors, looking as if he were trying not to smile. I didn’t care that a grin stretched across my face. Before I could stop myself, I jumped into his arms, hugging him. He was shocked a moment but returned the gesture. I pulled away quickly, blushing.

“Sorry,” I offered.

“No, it’s alright,” There was a suppressed teasing smile on his face. “Shall we?”

The house seemed even bigger now that it was empty, and it didn’t quite hold the same magic as it did the night of the Solstice Ball. He led me through the house and back down a familiar hallway and out to the rose garden once more. It was different during the day as the old oak trees created a canopy for us.

_________________________

Draco never actually thought that this would work and that you’d be here with him. Good things didn’t just happen to him, ever. But now he wasn’t alone, for the first time in his life. Maybe this month would be bearable.

“I... I brought the other books, if you want to read them,” Your voice was timid as sat in the same spot you did the night of the Ball, hugging your bag to your chest. “We don’t have to though, I just thought maybe,”

Your innocence made him smile, the softness of your demeanor. He never really noticed before.

You and he sat on the grass of the small garden hidden in the rose bushes to anyone onlooking, and he watched you read as he did at Hogwarts. The words fell from your lips, creating a moving picture in his head once more about the Pevensie children in Narnia.

“How much do you know about the muggle world?” The question slipped through Draco’s lips before he could stop it.

“Oh,” You closed the book, setting it in your lap. “Well, I mean, I know a bit more than most, not like my parents are muggle, but my father had a fascination for certain things, music, movies, books, stuff like that,” A shrug left your shoulders as you stretched out your legs, crossing your ankles.

Draco tried very hard not to notice that this was the first time he had seen you in shorts, ever. Your entire wardrobe changed in fact, it was void of school uniforms—sweaters and skirts—and heavily relied on shorts and cut off t-shirts with designs he didn’t understand. It almost suited you more, seeing you this carefree.

The summer sun faded, and you paused your reading, a sigh falling from your lips. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” The question was hopeful from your lips as you stood. He gave a small nod and saw you to the door, watching you leave.

Dinner was quiet as he ate alone, wishing that you were still there with him. The house-elves had made it, as usual and set it in the dining room, like always. It was maddening, being alone. He never grasped how deafening it was until you were gone.

All he could do was wait for tomorrow as he tossed and turned all night. 

“You look awful,” The quip came with a smile and an air of concern.

“Didn’t sleep well,” He muttered, leading you to a random sitting room that held a grand piano that he watched you eye enviously. You sat up right, in the corner of the couch, taking up the least amount of space possible as you began to read once more.

Knowing he was pushing his luck with whatever this was, he had no qualm about stretching out across the couch and laying his head in your lap.

You raised an eyebrow at him, and he challenged you with a smirk, daring you to say something. You didn’t. Instead you continued to read to him, your other hand falling and resting on his chest, counting the soothing breaths he took.

He wondered if you knew that you absentmindedly rubbed his chest with your thumb as you read. Or that you were driving him absolutely mad by doing it.

___________________________

When my words began to slur together too much to understand, I gave up reading and placed the book on the end table, realizing that Draco was fast asleep in my lap. It hurt, to see him like this. There was no fear or worry in his eyes, no look of distress or a façade of power in his features. He was at peace, like the weight of the world was off of his shoulders.

Carefully, I ran my hand through his hair, combing it back and out of his face. It was soft and silky. His eyes fluttered open.

“Hey there, sleepyhead,” I teased softly. “Have a nice nap?”

He sat up instantly, groaning and rubbing his face.

“Sorry?” He offered, defeated. “I wasted the entire afternoon, didn’t I?”

“I don’t mind, though I have no idea where to start the book again,”

He gave a hopeless laugh. I pulled my feet onto the sofa and angled myself towards him. He sat, his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. He was a burning man again.

“I’m sorry Y/n,”

It didn’t go unnoticed when he flinched as I reached out to rub his back comfortingly. My thoughts drifted back to his cryptic remark about his father from his letter and something burned within me.

“Don’t apologize for sleeping Dray,” I soothed, moving closer to him. “I’d rather you do that than be miserable all afternoon trying to humor me,”

The clock chimed and I sighed in defeat.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Draco, please get some rest,”

I laid awake in bed that night, wondering if Draco was taking my advice and sleeping, but I knew that it was probably a long shot to hope that.

I don’t know how it happened, but three weeks slipped through my fingers. I spent every afternoon with Draco, most times reading, inside or outside: in different rooms of the house, walking along the trails of the yard, under trees.

Sometimes he would fall asleep in my lap, or we’d just lay and watch the clouds and sleep claimed us both. There were days when he’d play the piano for me and I would sit beside him, watching quietly. Each time I saw him, he looked miserable, but it would fade by the time I left, a true smile touching his lips.

I arrived one afternoon, and Draco wasn’t outside as usual to greet me. Hesitant, I let myself in, my eyes searching for him. Hearing a clatter and shouting upstairs, I rushed up, nearly tripping in my fervor.

“Draco!?” I screamed, bursting through the door that separated us.

I was startled by the scene around me. Books were strewn everywhere, and a large armoire was thrown across the room, its doors fallen unceremoniously to the floor. Shredded clothing littered the room and the bed was barely standing, all of its four posts mangled. The wallpaper was sliced into nothing. But it wasn’t what was the most heartbreaking.

Draco was curled up on the floor, his head buried in his arms, his wand clutched in one of his hands as his shoulders shook. I barely heard his muffled sobs.

Taking out my wand I began to mutter the Repairing charm but paused. Instead, I put my wand away and made my way over to Draco, sitting beside him. I stared at the mess around us and slowly laid my head on his shoulder. He didn’t acknowledge me.

__________________________________

Draco wanted nothing more for than you to go away. He didn’t want you to see this. He didn’t want anyone to see this. He was a failure and a mess of a wizard who didn’t deserve anything. So, he most certainly didn’t deserve you sitting beside him, unafraid.

“I know you’re scared,” Your voice was soft and low. “I know you’re lonely, and I know it eats at you. I know that’s why you lash out,”

You paused, and he dared to peek at you. You were looking up at the ceiling, tears caught in your eyes as your lip was caught between your teeth.

“I know he abuses you, and it’s why you flinch whenever I try to touch you,” 

Draco hung his head, his hand tightening around his wand.

“And I can only imagine what your father is doing now, being away. I know it can’t be good, even though some part of me wishes it was. And I know you wish that too,”

He looked up at you, and slowly your eyes met his. Carefully your hand rose, and he wasn’t afraid. Not of you. Your fingers brushed through his hair, moving it away from his eyes.

“There,” You whispered softly, a kind smile on your lips. “Not so bad is it? Words are powerful, Draco. Speaking them, even though you’re afraid, takes some of their power.” You eyes dropped down and you took a small breath in. “And pressing on despite them makes you stronger,”

For the first time, Draco saw the sadness you held in your eyes and the weight that you carried on your shoulders. And it occurred to him, you had a lot to carry. Your father had died when you were young, and you had lived with your mother alone in a house that probably reminded you of him every moment.

You spoke with such wisdom he wondered how long it took for you to learn the same lesson before you could teach it. You never liked large crowds and you probably missed a lot of incredible things because of it. Then, you had to go and become his friend. You took a chance on him when you had every reason to walk away.

A girl who ran away and hid in books that you shared with him. A girl who ran to stories because they were better than what went on around her. A girl who showed him the same escape.

Lost in his thoughts, he hardly noticed that you slipped his wand out of his hand and stood slowly, offering your hand to him.

“Let’s fix this, yeah?”

He didn’t know if you meant the room or him, but he nodded, wanting to do both. A smile spread across your face as you helped him up.

“Here, my aunt taught me,” Tucking his wand into your back pocket, you took his hand, standing beside him looking at the wreckage. 

“In every job that must be done, there is an element of fun.” Your eyes shined. “Find the fun and snap,” You snapped your fingers. “The job’s a game,”

All around him he watched his room piece itself back together. The ruined walls mended themselves and the armoire reassembled and returned to its rightful position. The books picked themselves off the floor and reassembled and his bed made itself.

“What kind of spell is that?” His eyes darted around as the room continued to restore itself.

“Cleaning spell,” You smiled softly, “My aunt used to watch me when I was little, showed me how to clean up after I made a mess doing accidental magic,”

“You’re strange, you know that?” Draco smiled shaking his head. 

“I know,” You quipped. “But you love it,”

There was a beat between the two of you as it dawned on you what slipped through your lips. Before you could amend it, he responded.

“I do,” And it was the truth.

You looked down; a smile still stretched across your face.

“I thought I wasn’t your type?” You drawled mischievously.

“Oh, I’m never going to live that one down, am I?” He dismayed, a chuckle leaving his lips.

“As if I’d let you,” You reached up and he still didn’t flinch as you wrapped him into a hug. “Thank you for letting me in,”

His arms wrapped around you in return. You were so warm and soft, and a chill ran through him as your fingers curled in his hair.

“Thanks for taking a chance on me.”

You two spent the rest of the afternoon curled up in his window seat. You didn’t read to him, and neither of you really talked. Instead you held him in your arms, absentmindedly petting his hair and humming. You watched the view outside the window, and he watched you.

And for the moment he felt safe and didn’t feel alone. Even when you left that evening, he still didn’t feel isolated. He knew you would be back for the few days that he had left before his parents return. And though that thought was worrisome, he didn’t let it bother him.

“My parents will be back soon, but so will she,” He spoke aloud to an empty house. 

__________________________

“Draco?” I called to the nearly empty house again. “Draco!?”

“Here!” He responded, coming from in front of me somewhere. “Come on!” 

“Come on where!?” I asked, following the sound of his voice.

“Come on!” “Draco,” I whined.

I finally found him, he was in the kitchen, a large basket on one arm offering his other hand to you.

“What are we doing?” I complained lightly as he pulled me through the grassy backyard, down a path we’d never taken together before and into the woods.

“Will you trust me?” He bantered back, throwing me a playful questioning look.

“Sure, sure,” I rolled my eyes and dodged a tree branch. “Trust me, he says,”

Draco stopped short and caught me before I went barreling down a muddy slope and into a small lake that resided in the neck of the woods. Sunlight filtered in golden and green through the trees lighting the water and scene softly.

“You do know how to swim don’t you?” He asked softly, grinning at me. 

“I can swim circles around you, Malfoy,”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Isn’t it always?” I smirked.

I don’t remember laughing so much or having that much fun in an afternoon ever. Being with Draco seemed to make everything hurt less. Between slash wars or simply just hanging onto his shoulders as he chauffeured me around the crystal water it was a shining moment.

“You know it’s okay to like him, right?” Abby’s words echoed in my mind.

 All I could think in response was how could someone not?

Wrapped in a fluffy probably over-expensive towel on the lake beach, I watched Draco in the fading sun as he lounged, his eyes closed, smile reminiscent on his lips.

“It’s that time again isn’t it?” He asked softly.

I nodded, even though he couldn’t see. I’d have to go home soon, and our days were running out. A piece of me wished we had figured it out sooner. What it was, however, I didn’t know. But we would have had more time to figure it out.

Sighing I stood, casting a Drying charm and slipping his shirt over my head and my shorts back on, leaning over him.

“Well, are you gonna say goodbye?” I mused as he peeked an eye open. 

“That’s my shirt,”

“Not anymore,” I grinned, and he sat up as I crouched down beside him.

The awkward energy the lingered between us changed to something a bit more nervous and potential. His eyes matched the crystal water behind us, though his hair slicked back with the water reminded me of our first few years at school, so I reached up and ruffled it out so that he looked like my Draco once more.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Dray,” Standing, a smile remained on my face as he squinted up at me before standing himself.

“Y/n,” He called as I started to ascend the small bank.

His hand caught mine and he pulled me back to him, steadying me with his hands on my waist. Raising an eyebrow, I looked up at him expectant. His hand came up and tucked a stray strand of hair out of my face, lingering on my cheek.

As he leaned down, my eyes slipped closed as I felt his lips on mine, the anxiety in my chest turning into butterflies fluttering beautifully inside me. I pressed up on my toes and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, our lips dancing trying to find the right rhythm. His hand cradled my face softly and his other held my waist steady.

I pulled away reluctantly, nuzzling my nose to his. 

“Still not your type?” I breathed out.

“Not even close,” He chuckled, pressing a chaste kiss to my lips. “Go before you get in trouble,” 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I promised meeting soft blue eyes.

“You’re awfully happy,” My mother commented offhand as I walked through the door. “Have a good time this afternoon?”

I nodded, smiling to myself and headed upstairs. After dinner there was a letter sitting on my desk as Herman, our owl, preened his feathers on my sill. The recognizable green seal offered me comfort as I sat on my bed and opened the letter.

~

Y/n,

I’m so sorry, but my parents came home early. I hoped that we would have more time, but it looks like our time is up. I’m sorry. Please don’t be upset.

Yours,

Draco

~

My heart fell at the letter as tears stung my eyes. I laid back on my mass of pillows and stared at the words, wishing them not to be true. No matter how much I stared, they didn’t change. I sprang from my bed and found parchment, writing him back immediately.

~

Draco,

You don’t need to apologize, but I do want to see you again. This can’t be it for us, for whatever this is. Please, I don’t want to lose this, and I don’t want to lose you either. You’re too important to me.

I won’t let this be goodbye,

Y/n

~

I sent the letter off and stared at the setting sun. 

_______________________________

Draco reread your letter again, laying on his bed, not sure of how to make this not be goodbye. He didn’t want it to be goodbye either. He didn’t want to lose you.

The sad part happened to be that as soon as school started again, he would lose you. There he had to be a Slytherin and you were a Hufflepuff. He had a mask to keep on and you... you’d fight against him because of it. The thought made his stomach churn.

Couldn’t he have just one good thing without his family—his father—getting in the way?

There was a knock on the door and his mother entered his room. He sat up quickly and threw the letter under a pillow.

“How is she taking it?” His mother asked, a knowing look in her eyes. “Don’t try to lie to me,” 

Draco sighed and hung his head.

“Not well,” He answered truthfully.

His mother came and sat beside him, rubbing his back softly.

“Part of loving someone is doing whatever it takes to keep them safe,” Her voice was gentle and despondent. “It’s a hard lesson, my dear, but you must keep her safe, and keep her from your father,”

Draco nodded mutely.

Taking his mother’s words to heart, he hid you from his father. He gave no sign that anything was out of the ordinary, nor that you were here at all. It was torture, seeing your ghost wander around the house or the yard, smiling and waving at him, knowing it wasn’t his anymore.

Draco tucked your book away, in the bottom corner of his school chest under an old spell book, your letters folded inside. And as much as he’d like to tuck you away the same way, he couldn’t. You were in his dreams that seemed too real. It left him awake late in the night, craving your touch, your kiss, your laughter, for you just to smile at him one more time.

Even though it seemed impossible, September arrived.

.

.

Chapter 3

End Note: So, hi, I hope you liked it. Anyway, I know i have a few different timelines up with Draco and different Readz, and that a lot of you are invested in my Gryffindor!Reader one, and that’s amazing and more than I deserve honestly. And I will continue ro write for it, but I need time to get all of my thoughts down and fleshed out. There are a lot of things that I want to do, and will do, but to get from A to B I need to find the right path. So there isn’t a posting schedule, though I do write daily as a practice. I know you all are excited to see what happens next, and so am I on some things, but I ask your patience and to not be upset when I post something different. I am human, I do have anxiety and depression and executive dysfunction as well as a life outside of writing unfortunately, so cut your girl some slack. I love all of you and what means the most to me is seeing reblogs and comments, not just like/kudos. I have extreme anxiety and those really help me calm down and feel like I’m wanted and doing the right thing. It’s stupid sure, but it’s me and I can accept and love that part of me too. I love you guys so much. 

--KGL

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[kaisa-ryo]

Megumi Fushiguro NSFW Alphabet

Warning: English isn't my native language!

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*

A = Aftercare (What he likes after sex)

Nothing can be better than looking at you, studying every part of your face up close. Watch how your eyelashes tremble, how your chest rises and falls, inhaling and exhaling air. So familiar, so lovable. What a beautiful and so necessary face at this moment. From time to time he wants to run his fingers over it, remember it, photograph it. I want to look at your face for a very, very long time. Then he drops those thoughts because he needs to focus on trying to sleep.

B = Body part (His favorite body part)

Lips.

God, he so enjoys watching you bite them, lick them, paint them with glitter. This is essentially a small insignificant part of the body, but so demanding for courting and kissing. Yes, kisses ... Megumi so wants to touch them and do it yourself: bite, lick, paint with glitter ... After all, they seem so soft and delicious.

C = Cum (Everything about sperm)

Into a condom. Even if it is not always convenient and completely satisfactory with an elastic band, Megumi still prefers to protect herself. In addition, it is useless to oppose this if you do not want problems in the future. But if you ever ask him to do it without a condom, he might even agree, though not right away. First, make sure that you really want it, since he was not ready to ever do this. So don't be surprised if he gets worried during the process.

D = Dirty secret

From time to time he thinks about how you will take full control over yourself. It makes him mentally convince himself what a lustful bitch you are for him. He understands how you revel in your own perfection, how this thin erotic veil allows you to devour him with your eyes, hypnotize. It almost makes you a god. But the deity should not so protrude his sexuality in front of his beloved. Therefore, if you do so, then in the morning Megumi will throw some reproach in your direction, but at the same time he himself will remain satisfied and completely satisfied.

E = Experience

There is. If in high school he was a cold-blooded bully with a good appearance, then it is possible that Megumi had favorites back then. Not to say that, under the influence of hormones, he wanted to fuck every girl, because on his mind he had only the goal of maintaining justice with vague and false concepts. Yet he tried it once. She was a girl with high status and good connections, which were beneficial for him to achieve his goal. Sex without commitment is not the best experience that can be obtained, because apart from the pleasure of the process, you do not feel attracted to your partner. But what you just do not go to achieve the goal, right? The guy did not particularly remember that incident, but a clear understanding of the foundations of the art of submission remained.

Now he doesn't want to remember school life, because both character and actions were not sugar at all. In addition, the intentions of what then and what from now are different, one should not exceed expectations. But speaking of being intimate with you, Fushiguro has acquired a real bond that makes intercourse more sensual.

F = Favorite position

A deck chair is a great option. It seems like an ordinary missionary, but both he and you have something to hold on to. And as a bonus, he sees your face, by which he can give an accurate analysis of how well you are now.

G = Goofy (Are you serious at this moment?)

Yes. Despite the main goal of getting pleasure, it is also important for him to control it. He is not afraid to death that everything will go downhill. It's just that perfect sex hasn't bothered anyone yet. In addition, it is not at all difficult for him to do as he wants. Therefore, he feels a great need for complete control over intercourse. If everything is done correctly, he feels proud of himself, which cannot but please him.

H = Hair (Is the hair ok?)

Hygiene is as important to him as every other aspect of his life, especially if it somehow, no matter how, concerns you. You never need to remind him of this, as he himself tries to take care of the intimate area as often as possible. Therefore, he is unlikely to have problems providing comfort for both of you.

I = Intimacy (Romance)

There is. These are mostly cute things that are usually not considered very important, but for you they are like a trophy. For example kisses on the forehead, crown of the head, knuckles of thin fingers, neck and shoulders. It is like a ritual dedicated to love for your beauty and uniqueness. Even if the process is not very sophisticated, you get pleasure every time. Towards the end, you realize that you have gained much more than the warmth from light, but sensitive touch.

J = Jack off (masturbation)

There is such a thing. And you don't have to be far away. If you have not done this for a long time, but for some reason he is afraid or does not want to offer you, then do not mind masturbating to one of your photos in the gallery.

K = Kink (Kinks and fetishes)

The guy is not indifferent to your body, no matter what shape it has. Feel his smell, touch, stroke, listen until all these tenderness reaches light bites, squeezes, licks ... He feels everything much more sophisticated than it seems. And nature is such that subconsciously very subtly feels desires. Even if they are not at all.

He likes it when you walk in sexy pajamas, stockings that accentuate the shape of your legs or open clothes, although he doesn't always approve of this, because he knows perfectly well that he is not the only one who likes your body.

I like to give you different jewelry because they look so perfect on you. It is not for nothing that people say: "It is not clothes that paint a person, but a person's clothes."

For Fushiguro, this is both the main aesthetics and a source of inexhaustible pleasure, which is noticeable with the naked eye.

L = Location (Favorite places to have sex)

Not a lover of variety, so the option with a bed is the most ideal for him. Moreover, the bed is large and soft, which allows you to do a lot without any discomfort. You often feel tired after sex (unless you're a sex addict), so in the case of a bed, you don't have to worry about passing out on the table or floor. Yes, with the bed, you are subject to almost all poses!

Fushiguro is also not cold to the sofa, which is not much different from the bed in terms of sex. On it he can relax while you ride it, clutching his shoulders or pants. The sofa is also a good control plane, which can be easily used if you understand that you need to get up. It's still convenient! Why do you even need a shower and a table?

M = Motivation

When you walk around the house in the open in only panties and a bra. He doesn't like it very much, but heck, he really doesn't want to admit that he is actually embarrassed and it still turns him on. And when he comes to pick you up from home to take you somewhere, and then finds you not ready, in only one underwear, he will be indignant at why you are still not dressed, then he will turn away, covering his face with his hand and making a slightly trembling exhale. At this time, you will notice how his cheeks and ears turn red and giggle softly, pulling on a T-shirt. Once you specifically asked him to fasten his bra, knowing that it will start. After all, in front of him, a close-up flaunts your completely naked back, which you can touch and stroke. It seems that another second and he will lose control of himself and go into a rage. Holding his breath, he will begin to gently stroke the delicate skin and excitedly run his fingers up and down the spine, feeling his legs trembling from the touch. You will have to bite your lips in order not to turn around, and all this time with concentration to look in the direction where your shadows are reflected in a black silhouette on the wall a few meters away.

Also no less exciting for him is your passion for something. If you diligently write an essay, essay, read interesting books, even just tap your nails on a hard surface - he will be immersed in your actions. After all, the main thing for him is not the process of action itself, but how you perform it. When Fushiguro sees you at work, he enjoys every second of what is happening.

N = No (Which won't do)

What he considers to be risk or abnormal.

Megumi is for healthy sex and will not settle for BDSM, role-playing or sadomasochistic procedures. Especially complete submission. It does not arouse and does not cause orgasm from the word at all. He believes that such an idiotic variety was invented by mentally ill people, after whom everything is repeated for the reason of "fashion", public manipulation and self-hypnosis. In addition, in order to decide on such an idea, you either need to be a crazy psychopath, or stop respecting yourself. At least Megumi thinks so and has no doubts about it.

O = Oral (Likes to receive or to give)

In this regard, Fushiguro tries to maintain balance.

Yes, he likes to hear your drawn-out muffled moans. I like how you all wriggle under it and beg you not to stop. I like the way you cum. But it is no less exciting to see how you walk with your thin fingers along the entire length of his penis, and then clasp your lips and swallow it as deeply as possible, periodically circling the head with your dexterous tongue. Therefore, he is not inclined to prioritize. He continues to give you pleasure simply because he thinks it is right, and when he himself wants to feel pleasure, you will guess it yourself by his eyes, facial expression and swaying his hips in time with your movements.

P = Pace

As a rule, Megumi tries to do it in full force. Physical strength is still a man's trump card in love, and should not be underestimated. But it needs to be properly stimulated. Energy should not be pushed to the limit. Fushiguro was used to stretching his orgasm, speeding up and then stopping for ten seconds. Then the surge of feelings becomes even stronger. Too much speed will immediately lead to overwork, and the orgasm becomes smooth and short. It's too predictable. Of course, the guy is not a fan of variety, but that does not mean that you absolutely cannot pamper yourself, right?

Q = Quickie

Average. The most common.

And what else do you need? High speed does not allow you to feel the process properly, and low speed dampens all excitement and quickly gets bored. Medium is perfect for both of you.

R = Risk (Ready to experiment)

Not ready.

You shouldn't force him to try new sensations. This will cause him discomfort or even anxiety, which will not lead to the best outcome. Once you talked to him about this, at the end he said that he didn’t like it and asked him not to bother with this topic anymore, since even the thought of it introduces him into slight stress. Not because of the experiments themselves, but the very fact of their fear. He is currently struggling with this because he wants to be completely perfect for you. However, it is unacceptable for him that it is easy for him to control the process, but it is so difficult to start experimenting in terms of sexual relations. He will definitely deal with it. Not right away, but it will cope.

S = Stamina (Stamina)

Pretty decent

Getting pleasure is enough for both of you, so you have the strength to wash in the shower, make tea, read a book and just lie around, warming your bodies with hugs. It even happens that there is enough strength to walk along the street, restoring not only physical balance, but also emotional one. Still, a walk in the fresh air with conversations on various topics does not let you forget that your love is real and is not a farce for sexual gratification.

T = Toys

It treats all their varieties badly.

Another trinket invented by the unbalanced and sexually addicted. You both have enough and an ordinary hookup without stupid "decorations".

* In fact, once the thought flew through his head about how you would react if he shoved a vibrator into your vagina as close to your clitoris as possible. And how he later, in all seriousness, assured himself that he would not offer you such a thing for anything. Recalls a magazine article about sexual fantasies among teenagers at thirteen. As a result, having mentally slapped myself in the face, I never thought about it again.

U = Unfair (Does he like to tease)

Yes!

He doesn't like to admit it, but oh my god, how your pleading and sobbing drives him crazy. At such moments, he seems to be in seventh heaven. He would like to listen to them, but then all the pleasure from the upcoming orgasm will disappear. He wants to satisfy his desire as soon as possible, but he really doesn’t want your sweet voice to stop at such seconds ... And when you finally finish, everything inside him contracts. Because now you shout his name instead of muffled moans. It feels like he is special to you. Yes, only he can make you make a mess in your body, which was just so obedient. Only with him can you finally plunge you into ecstasy.

V = Volume (How loud is it)

At first, he is silent, as if swallowed his tongue. But by the middle it already starts to grow. But if you only knew how uncontrollable he is in the end ... although, why am I crucifying here? Of course you know.

At this time, along with orgasm, he realizes how fucking he is. So inside him begins a feverish flow of internal current, and at the same time a fire flares up in his heart, turning into a high.

W = Wild card (Random headcanon)

When you first slept, the spontaneous thought came to you to look into his phone. Nothing criminal, you just wanted to make sure you were the first.

Waking up first and looking at the phone, which surprisingly had no password, you checked the list of contacts that were not embellished in some way, and in general there were not as many of them as you expected. But you, apparently, so much enjoyed digging into his personal life, feeling like a real Sherlock, that you decided to look at Google. There already began something from which you simply could not help but emit an unrestrained laugh: more than ten tabs related to sexual relations, the structure of the vagina, the consequences of the "first time", precautions for intercourse and a bunch of other things. You could hardly restrain your laughter so as not to wake up your loved one, who apparently became a real Alpha and a sex guru in just one evening.

It's been a long time since that moment, but you still haven't admitted to him that you then got into his phone.

X = X-ray (What's under the clothes)

14.5 cm during erection ± 1

Y = Yearning (How high is the sex drive)

Megumi cannot be called “lonely-touchy-with-a-broken-heart”, but “addict” is certainly not about him. This is an unexpected manifestation of desire when he himself begins to kiss your neck, in the hope of showing your initiative. Usually you make love at your request or at a noticeable hint. Fucking you in bed, he is not looking for any benefit for it and is not chasing cheap bonuses. He thinks that he is simply satisfying his sexual need, and does not go further so that you, too, do not get hung up on sex as an important part of your life.

4/10

Z = Zzz (How quickly falls asleep)

Quickly, if you are not trying to distract him with conversations (you are not always sure that you did everything right and completely satisfied him).

If you want to annoy him with requests, for example, if you are cold and you tell him about it, he will immediately cover you with a blanket. But you are more cunning and you do not need a blanket at all, but his strong arms.

— Mmm... and I wanted to warm myself in your arms...

Then Fushiguro will roll his eyes, sigh loudly and hug you from behind.

— I want you to kiss the top of my head! — you will rather smile when he reluctantly, but still will do it.

— Will you sing me a lullaby? - then the guy will understand that further you are just making fun of him.

— Maybe you still dance?

— What a good idea! Stand by that closet.

— Sleep, princess.

���.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*

[sserpente]

A/N: Random idea. Very fluffy. A little awkward… probably what would actually happen if you took Loki to a thermal bath spa when you are seriously crushing on him… enjoy! ;-)

Words: 4087 Warnings: a lot of fluff, sexual themes, implied smut

Birthdays were special—or at least, they should be. For the last decade, however, your own reflection in the mirror had been the only one wishing you a happy birthday. You had grown used to it. Loneliness was not so bad once you learned how to deal with the ache in your heart. But perhaps this year could be different, even though by now, you avoided telling the people in your life about your date of birth.

You had joined the Avengers a little over eight months now—and even though they were all nice and kind, there was only one other person you truly connected with. Loki. The man who had, only a few years ago, attempted to subjugate the entire planet. You shook your head quickly. It had not been his fault, not entirely. He had suffered under Thanos’ torments as much as you had been suffering under your loneliness. He was lonely too. Thor was his brother but he was no longer a friend, not really. The distance between them, albeit not physical, felt heart-breaking to even watch.

Surely, Loki would not be opposed to joining you in the thermal bath spa today. You intended to treat yourself, clandestinely and quietly, for your birthday. Having Loki with you—the man you could not only spend countless sleepless nights with talking about life, desires and fears but also caused your reoccurring and uncontrollable wet dreams. Seeing him shirtless for almost an entire day would put the cherry on top of your imaginary birthday cake.

Cautiously, you knocked on his door, your bag already packed. You would not need more than a book to relax with, some snacks (some of which were healthier than others), a towel and another bikini to change into, especially since the exclusive sauna was a no-clothing area anyway. Oh… if you got Loki to join you there…

“Yes…?” Loki’s disinterested face practically lit up when he realised it was you who had knocked. Smiling, you squeezed yourself through the gap.

“Hi.”

“Good morning.” He frowned, eyeing your bag. “Are you going somewhere?”

“I am, and I was wondering if you would like to join me. I’m heading to a local thermal bath spa to relax a little. You know… whirlpools, saunas, massages…”

Intrigued, he leaned forward. He remembered receiving positively amazing massages from Asgardian therapists in the palace when he was younger. They had worked wonders on his exhausted muscles after his training with Thor.

“Who else is coming?” He asked.

“No one. Just you and me.”

The God of Mischief smirked. “Very well.”

-

It had taken him time to warm up to you, and he had not just once questioned your intentions and sincerity. It warmed your heart, seeing him blithe, cheeky and curious now whenever the two of you were together. It almost felt like catching glimpses of his old, light-hearted self—before he had found out he was a Frost Giant; and that his whole life had been but a lie.

Loki had a good heart—he merely protected it well.

“Are you telling me we are going to share these pools with other people?!” He exclaimed in a downright horrified manner as you walked past the first swimming area to the reception.

“Oh… yes.” You giggled. “I’m afraid so, the spa is open for other customers too, after all. I’ve booked a booth all for myself… so we’ll have as much privacy as possible, alright? Hi!” You smiled at the receptionist who gave you a court nod.

“I’ve made a reservation, the name is (Y/L/N).”

“Oh yes, Ms (Y/L/N), you’re right on time. Please, let me escort you and your partner to your booth. Inside, you’ll find our welcome package, including champagne and the hot chocolate for your massage. If you need anything else, you can pay with your bracelets which will also give you access to our sauna world. Any purchases made will be added to your bill when you check out, other than that… we’re happy to help if you are experiencing any problems.” The words bubbled from her mouth like the gushing waterfall in the whirlpool area.

“Oh, uh, yes, thank you.” You stuttered. You blinked, blushing furiously. Loki spoke up as soon as she was gone and left you to change into your complementary bathrobes.

“Hot chocolate… for our massage?”

“Um… yeah… the package I booked to get this booth is intended for couples, usually.” You had almost forgotten about that when you decided to invite Loki this morning… Well, at least, the booth was nice. Opaque and dimly lit, it reminded you of an indoor-tipi. Inside, a giant round mattress took most of the space, along with a small table with, like the receptionist had promised, the hot chocolate and a bottle of champagne with two glasses.

“Ah. I see.”

Your heart skipped a beat, no, several at once, when Loki’s blue gaze met yours. If only he knew about your wet dreams… with a sigh, you undressed until all there was left was your bikini. You truly couldn’t wait to dive into the whirlpool first thing before your massage appointments, but what you were looking forward to even more was spending an entire day with Loki completely shirtless.

You gulped, quietly, when he followed your example. Quite hilariously, he had been rather unfamiliar with the concept of swimwear. On Asgard, nudity was rarely frowned upon when it came to bathing, whether it was a giant bathtub or a lake—still, Loki had always had the privilege of complete privacy as a prince, so he had told you.

He had refused to borrow one of Tony’s bathing trunks and instead opted for magic. Now, all he was left wearing were a pair of black swimming trunks with green and gold accents, complimenting his pale, yet well-defined and muscly chest.

“Do you like what you are seeing, my dear?” Blinking, you cleared your throat, quickly looking away. You blushed again, causing the God of Mischief to chuckle to himself. He truly was a tease. By now, you had learned this much—Loki was constantly torn between his smugness and confidence because of his physical superiority over you and his own shyness and insecurities whispering to him that as a Jötun, who would ever find him attractive compared to the mighty Thor?

You longed to prove him a lot more often he was indeed a lot more handsome than the Thunderer.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You said finally, his cheeky grin growing even wider when you grabbed a towel and headed for the whirlpools. Loki followed you amused.

-

“Loki…?”

“Yes, my dear?”

You had been watching him, secretly of course, for the past twenty minutes now. How his muscles danced when he leaned back and closed his eyes, arms spread on the edge of the whirlpool and his Adam’s apple moving slightly when he swallowed… his wet body shimmering in the dim light of the spa… focus.

“Is there a reason nobody else is willing to join us in this particular whirlpool?” He really liked this one. For the past hour, you had been trying them all out. You could tell he preferred those with lower water temperatures. Oddly, however, other customers practically seemed to avoid the pool. Granted, some of them might have recognised him… but surely not all of them.

“I would never…” He teased, opening one eye and glaring at you mischievously. You grinned, shaking your head. For Heaven’s sake, you would only love to swim over to him and sit on his lap, find out what it would feel like to straddle him and to explore his muscles with your wet palms… but you would probably freak him out if you did. Loki had never indicated he had a romantic, let alone sexual interest in you. Your wet dreams would most likely remain just that—dreams. Wishful thinking. You sighed, taking a peek at the huge clock on the wall.

“We have one and half more hours until our massages. I’m gonna dry off and head to the sauna for a bit but you can stay here if you like.”

“No,” he replied quickly. “I will join you.”

You climbed out of the whirlpool with a smile, your body, instead of freezing, growing hot as soon as you heaved yourself out of the water. The cool air should have made you shiver, yet you felt your back burning. Loki was watching you, you were sure of it. Intently.

You returned to your private booth to put on your bathrobe, with Loki following you suit. It was nice and warm inside, perfect for a short break.

“Ugh, stupid hair…” Grumbling to yourself, you struggled to make your wet ponytail presentable again. The God of Mischief chuckled and raised an eyebrow, a cheeky smirk tugging at his lips.

“Come.” He said, reaching out for you. Blinking, and ignoring your rapid heartbeat, you obeyed. He made you turn around so you were sitting between his legs, holding onto his thigh for support. You had expected so much out of this spa visit with Loki… but not that you would become so aroused throughout the day. This man could be breathing peacefully and it would make you horny. For Heaven’s sake…

You almost purred when he suddenly ran his long fingers through your wet streaks to untangle it a little. He removed the hair tie easily and soon began to part your hair in three. Before you even realised what he was doing, he was already braiding it neatly.

“You… wow. Thank you. How do you know how to do that?” And how do I get you to do this more often? His fingers had felt wonderfully in your hair and on your scalp. You could only imagine him pampering other parts of your body…

“I used to do it for my mother as a child. I always came to hide with her in her dressing room. It somehow calmed me down whenever Thor and his friends… never mind.”

Turn around, a seductive voice in your head screamed. Turn around and kiss him, now! But you did no such thing. Instead, you darted away from him as if stung by an adder, much to his surprise.

“S-sauna.” You said quickly. “ Loki nodded, eyes, however, widening fast when you started taking off your bikini under the bathrobe.

“What are you doing now?”

“Uh, there are no clothes allowed in the sauna.” You mumbled in response, curious about how he would react.

Gosh, ever since your arrival, you were torn between seduce him and pounce on him and run away screaming. You just couldn’t decide… in fact… in fact you wished he would just pull you on his lap and kiss you senseless.

“You mean to run around naked? Among strange men?” He countered as he approached you slowly. He looked good in that white bathrobe, it complemented his wet raven hair… argh, focus! Loki sounded almost… possessive. A sign? Would he kiss you? Pretty please with a cherry on top? Perhaps you should just tell him it was your birthday and ask for a proper kiss as your birthday gift.

“I do it all the time, Loki. No one cares about the nudity in there. Besides, it’s rather dark in the cabins. I understand if you don’t want to do it though, you don’t have to come with me, I can—”

The God of Mischief snorted. “I am not letting you go there alone.”

You paused, mid-sentence, a smile tugging at your lips. Now you couldn’t just kiss him but at least, you could hug him. Loki always acted like he hated the physical affection you often showered him with but in that aspect, he was a bad liar. A sigh escaped his lips when he reciprocated your hug and wrapped his arms around your body. It was so tiny compared to his, the urge to protect growing within him like an ancient, primal need. Mine… he blinked.

Oh no, you were a mortal. He would not make the same mistake as his brother and fall for a woman who would die centuries before him.

“Let us go.” He had not told you yet but he was not overly fond of saunas. He was familiar with the concept, of course—steam baths and alike—but had usually avoided them back on Asgard. It wasn’t until he had found out he was a Frost Giant that he realised why he despised the heat so much and yet… he was willing to sweat with discomfort just so he could see your half-naked, no, all naked body all wet and warm and… Loki cleared his throat and let go of you like a piece of blistering firewood. Mutely, he followed you to the sauna world and used his bracelet to get inside.

He already longed to snap the necks of the men turning around to glare at you hungrily when you both entered, his left hand jerking slightly as he almost brought it to the small of your back to show them you were taken. They glanced away again quickly, realising Loki was not to be meddled with.

As soon as the two of you had disappeared into one of the cabins—an empty one, much to his relief—he flicked his wrist. A green, barely visible shimmer of light surrounded the opaque door. No one else would get to explore your naked body with their eyes now—only him.

Only then did he start to feel the gravity of the heat around him. It enveloped him, slowed him down… he took a deep, disgusted breath.

-

You shouldn’t be shy. Fuck it. Drop your towel. So you did, avoiding Loki’s heated gaze on you as you did and sat down. While part of you meant to lean back and present your breasts to him temptingly, another wanted you to cover yourself up again this instant. You looked up and…

Loki’s lips were parted. He didn’t even think about removing the towel around his hips. Instead, his greedy gaze wandered up and down your body, slowly and intimately. You gulped. It took him a moment to pick himself up.

Then, finally, he slowly removed his own towel, revealing the sight of his member. You swallowed thickly. He was big. Bigger than the average man, even in his soft state. Loki sat down next to you, another mischievous smirk playing on his lips. He knew. He bloody knew. He must have… right?

With any other Avengers, this situation would have been super awkward and strange but with Loki… it was peaceful. Neither of you felt ashamed to be naked around the other, no sounds disrupting the silence. The heat felt amazing, sweating all negative energy from your system even better. There was only the steam hissing in the background, the rapid beating of your own heart and Loki, panting frantically. Panting?

“Loki? Are you okay?”

“I feel fine.” He lied. You flinched when you looked over to him. Loki was blue, his eyes glowing red in the dimly lit sauna and his bare chest decorated with dozens of ridges you longed to trace with your fingertips.

“You’re blue!”

Taken aback, the God of Mischief gazed down at himself, jumping up as if stung by an adder as soon as he realised.

“A-are you okay?”

“Fine,” he choked out. You barely had a chance to reply before he stormed out of the sauna.

“Loki! Loki, wait!” Grabbing your towel before you could dart after him, you clumsily wrapped it around your body to cover yourself up. Loki had disappeared into the shower room.

He glared at you from the corner of his eye when he saw you approaching him slowly—ignoring the other naked man taking a shower as cool as you please. The pattering of the water onto the wet files echoing through the room pierced your ears the closer you came but you barely even registered it. Loki was leaning against the wall, palms pressed flatly against it. He looked normal again. Not blue.

“You were not supposed to see that.” He growled quietly. Hesitatingly, you put one of your hands on his shoulder blade. He had no idea how this could have even happened. His body reacted to the cold. To objects of Jötun origin, not to heat and hot air. It must have been a defence mechanism to cope with the sudden temperature change…

“It doesn’t matter, Loki. I knew about… well.”

“You knew I am a monster? A wolf in sheep’s clothing?” He snapped bitterly.

“I knew you were a Frost Giant. You’re not a monster. You haven’t eaten me yet, have you?” You joked, waiting for him to reply. When he said nothing, you took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Loki, I didn’t think the heat would do… this. Are you… are you sure you’re okay? I don’t want to spend the rest of my birthday in the hospital.” Even though you were fairly certain a regular hospital could barely help the God of Mischief. You should have considered his race when suggesting the sauna. Why, for Heaven’s sake, hadn’t he refused to come with you? To… protect you, maybe? From other, greedy men? Your pussy clenched at the mere thought of it.

“What did you just say?”

“W-what? Nothing.” Shit.

“Your birthday. You said it was your birthday.”

Defeated, you gave him a court nod and shrugged innocently. “It… it is. That’s why I wanted to come here today, relax a little… and spend time with you. Let’s just… go back to our booth and forget this happened, alright?”

She is not afraid of you. She does not hate you. She is not disgusted. The thoughts tumbled through Loki’s head like a house of twigs collapsing in on itself. She wants to spend her birthday with you.

He nodded mutely, for once at loss for words, and followed you. He had sworn to himself to not make the same mistake as his brother, besides, a mortal was no match for him… right? How soon, however, would he once again find someone who liked his company simply for the sake of it? Someone who would spend their most important day with him of all people? Someone who did not despise his true nature? Perhaps… perhaps, he should reconsider.

Hungry for a snack to stifle the shock, you reached into your bag to retrieve a package of marshmallows once you were back in your private booth. It was your birthday, after all. You could have some additional calories today if you weren’t going to get any cake. Apart from that, you needed something to munch on, even after admiring Loki’s backside… and his very impressive manhood. You wondered, briefly, if his cock was covered in ridges too when he was in his Jötun form… and how they would feel inside of you. You should have looked down when you had the chance. Licking your lips with a hum in a weak attempt to distract yourself from your naughty thoughts, you ripped open the package and fished one of the marshmallows out.

In the meantime, Loki opened the champagne bottle and poured you both a glass.

“And what is that supposed to be?” He said as he handed you one of them.

“Marshmallows? You’ve never had marshmallows before?”

“No…” He responded slowly, rather suspicious towards the white sugar clumps.

“They’re sweet and soft and… here.” Unceremoniously, you dipped it into the hot chocolate. It shouldn’t go to waste, now should it? “Eat.”

Loki obeyed, still in doubt but he soon hummed in approval when he let it disappear in his mouth. “Delicious… Tell me, what was that hot chocolate intended for, initially?” He asked curiously when he had swallowed, nodding at it before taking a sip of his champagne.

“Um… well…”

Impatiently, he raised an eyebrow.

“It’s for, uh, couple massages. You know… you’re supposed to use the chocolate for… as…”

“Massage oil?” He finished your sentence with a nod. His blue eyes locked with yours, making your heart pound in your chest. By the Norns, he should have read the signs earlier. The way you looked at him—both shyly and provocatively at the same time… the way your breath caught in your lungs whenever he touched you, even if it was in the most innocent and decent way possible. You made him laugh, too. It had been a while since he had laughed, from all his heart.

“Hmm, I see. Well, perhaps you were wrong, my dear.” He mused and put his glass away, making his decision there and then. “Perhaps I will eat you after all.”

He smirked—maliciously at that when your eyes widened and he crawled up to you on the huge mattress, right until he towered above you. Unceremoniously, he reached for the hot chocolate and inhaled deeply. The scent was infatuating—Loki’s hungry glare, however, even more so.

“L-Loki… what are you doing?”

His lips parted, one of his hands reaching up to caress your cheek. You shivered, desire and affection rippling through you. What was happening here?

You couldn’t help it. Your eyes wandered down to his lips. What would it feel like to press your lips against his? What would it feel like… oh. He was kissing you. A moan escaped your throat when his mouth came crashing down on yours, kissing you gently at first and then, devouring your lips like his last meal. Your languishing glance, so it seemed, was all the invitation he had needed. Loki’s hands set your body on fire, exploring every inch of your skin, stroking your neck, your arms, your chest…

You squealed when he undid the messy knot you had tied into your towel, leaving you completely exposed beneath him. Once more, his blue eyes appeared to ravish you whole. Then, suddenly, you both witnessed and felt him pouring the warm chocolate over your chest and breasts, your already hardening nipples reacting to the sweet liquid immediately. Oh my… God…

You couldn’t have imagined it to be like this in your wildest dreams. Goose bumps lingered wherever his fingertips ghosted over your body, the droplets of chocolate tickling where they trailed down your sides, threatening to stain the mattress. Your breath was trembling from desire by the time Loki lowered his head to your body and finally released your now swollen lips, instead tending to the warm and sweet mess he had created on your upper body. His tongue darted out as he hummed in joyful anticipation, patiently licking you clean.

Your back arched, hips bucking up towards him and grazing his crotch. It was him who moaned this time, his free hand, for he propped himself up with the other, fondling one of your breasts. You wanted more. Oh, you wanted so much more. But not here. This booth was private but at the end of the day you were still in public. At home, back at the compound… if that was what he wanted too. Don’t be a fool… of course he wants it too, the horny voice inside your head complained.

“Hmm… this tastes much better than those marshmallows…” He purred. You whimpered when he sucked one of your hard nipples into his mouth and tenderly nibbled on it. The attention made you clench your legs. Betraying arousal was pooling in your centre, drenching your bikini bottoms. If he didn’t stop now…

“W-we’re going to miss our m-massages, Loki…” You attempted weakly.

Loki chuckled darkly. “Something tells me you wouldn’t very much mind that, my sweet.” My sweet… if you hadn’t been lying down, your knees would have given in now at the very latest. Loki had a lot of explaining to do, and so did you. You had pounced on one another like wolves in heat, like sex-starved beasts… but not now. For the time being, you would simply enjoy having broken the thin layer of ice remaining between you. “You are right, of course.” He added then. “I want to be the only one to hear you screaming my name…” Another low chuckle rumbled through his voice chords, sending pleasant shivers up and down your spine. Reluctantly, he released you and let you catch your breath. Naked, you sat up, eyeing him with a shy smile which Loki reciprocated. This spa day escalated quickly, you thought, giggling to yourself. Not that you were to complain.

He winked. “Happy Birthday, (Y/N).”

-

A/N: Check out my blog to find more Imagines and take a glimpse at my  first (to be) published novel! If you enjoyed this story, I would  appreciate so much if you supported me on Kofi! ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

[ieatmypizzawithaforkandknife]

MAG 022 - Colony

Summary: Martin Blackwood dictates his statement regarding “a close encounter with something I believe to have once been Jane Prentiss.”

So can we all agree that Martin is the most adorable person ever and needs to be protected at all costs? Because within the first minute of this episode he was firmly placed in the Smol Bean category of my brain, and there he shall forever be. I am quite certain I will end up crying about this man at some point.

I’m really glad I listened to this episode again after finishing the season, because even in the short time between this episode and the season finale, so much of my opinions on Jonathan himself and on the relationship between Jonathan and Martin have changed. I know, this episode was about Martin - but it was also the first time we actually got to see these two characters interact, as opposed to Jonathan just making offhand comments about Martin’s supposedly subpar work. (Poor Martin. Mean Jonathan.)

I love how Martin says, “I just want to make a statement about what happened to me. I mean...it’s what we do!” and Jonathan’s immediate reply is, “No, what we do is research statements - usually those made by liars and the mentally unwell.” His tone holds its usual amount of derision, but after listening to the last few episodes of S1, I can’t find it in myself to hold it against him anymore. (I never claimed to be good at reading people.) Towards the end of the episode, Jonathan tells Martin he can sleep in the Archive, basically doing what I think was the Jonathan version of reassuring him, by telling him how safe it is. His tone isn’t reassuring - it’s very factual, as he lists off all the different ways the Institute is a safe place and by telling Martin he’ll ask Elias about adding some extra security. But if Jonathan were just trying to get Martin to sleep there so he wouldn’t lose a research assistant, he probably could’ve just told Martin to stay there and Martin would’ve listened. He seems to care about Martin in a way that isn’t shown in his offhand remarks in previous episodes. And while there’s a slight admonishment when he says, “No, what we do is research statements”, it smacks more of a concerned admonishment than an angry one to me. Conclusion: Jonathan is, as always, terrible with people, but not because he doesn’t care.

I’m also wondering how much of the “No, what we do is research statements” line was Jonathan and how much was Elias. It reminded me of what Jonathan said when he was contemplating bringing up the Leitner situation to Elias in episode 17: “I know he’ll just give me the old “record and study, not interfere or contain” speech again”. In particular, the word “again” indicates it’s something they’ve butted heads on before. It’s interesting that in this episode Jonathan seems to take Elias’ position on the issue. It could be that he’s just trying to be responsible in a general sense and that he doesn’t want to be liable if anything happens to Martin. But, taken with what I said in the previous paragraph, it could also be read as “I’d like to discourage this man from further endangering himself in the future because I care about him and I cannot/do not know how to express this directly, so I will hide behind what my own boss has told me many times.”

On the subject of Martin himself - I don’t think I can properly express how much I already love this adorable, nervous man. There were just so many great lines from him in this episode, whether for characterization or for humor - and often it was both. The long beat of silence after “Well, I need to tell someone what happened, and you can vouch for the soundness of my mind, can’t you?” Also: “Look, I know you hate the word, but it was really…spooky.” And “I was heading home when I got to thinking, and…I was worried I hadn’t really done enough investigation for you”. And “I’ve catalogued and looked into enough of these cases to know that following the noise is always a really, really bad idea, but…I mean…it’s my job, isn’t it?” And finally, at the very end when Jonathan offers him a place to stay at the Archive, he’s so flustered, both at the offer and at the very idea that Jonathan believes him. He’s basically tripping over himself and cringing as he gives his own statement, so hung up on the idea that he won’t be believed or that this isn’t enough.

And who can blame him? If you really think about what happened to him...I can’t blame him for thinking he wouldn’t be believed or that no one would be concerned for his safety. From his perspective, he just spent thirteen days alone in his apartment with no electricity, no company, no way to communicate with the outside world - and, to his knowledge, not a single person checked up on him! Obviously that was a good thing, because if someone had come to his door, they would have been met with Jane Prentiss - but Martin went for almost two weeks without a single good night’s sleep, eating ready meals and canned food, being constantly startled by her knocking, and he had to have wondered, at least once, why no one even wondered where he was.

One key to Martin’s survival was that he had plenty of water: “Luckily there was no problem with my water supply, so I had plenty to drink. I’m just glad none of them thought to come up through the pipes.” I genuinely can’t tell if Jonny’s hanging a lampshade on the issue or if we’re supposed to wonder why the worms never came up through the pipes, but in any case I am wondering it. Another key to his survival is that, despite not having a peephole, Martin somehow knew when she’d gone - and he wasn’t entirely sure how he knew. He surmises that the musty smell surrounding her must have been gone, and he didn’t hear any knocking for a little while, but in the end he has to confirm her absence by simply opening his door - which, if he were wrong, would have led to certain death - or, as he says at one point, “worse”.

Another mystery to me is when Martin goes into the basement of the building on Boothby Rd the first time and this happens: “I didn’t like the way my shadow moved. The light from the window behind me cast it pretty clearly on the floor, and looking at it I swear the edges seemed to move…it’s was like a, like an undulation…like, like they were being shifted by something.” He doesn’t follow this up with “and then I noticed my ‘shadow’ was actually worms on the floor”, so this doesn’t seem like a Jane Prentiss thing to me, or a Carlos Vittery’s spider thing either. And if it isn’t associated with either of the two known Boothby Rd-related entities, then it was something else entirely, which has me worried. But that’s the only mention of anything like a shadow being “shifted” in this episode, so for now I’m hoping I’m just reading too much into things.

There were so many excellent visual descriptions in this episode, so kudos to Jonny as always, and in this case kudos also to Alex for the performance. Martin describes the Jane Prentiss worms as “maybe an inch long, with a silver segmented body that goes black at one end, almost like it’s been burned.” This could just be a general creepy description, but I would be remiss if I didn’t point out the “burning” imagery here, given all the times fire and burning have come up before, even though I’m not sure what specifically it might be connected to from previous episodes. More concrete, though, is the difference between Jane Prentiss’ clothing when Martin encounters her and what she was wearing in her first appearance in episode 6. Harriett Lee, her victim in that episode, told Timothy Hodge, the man who gave the statement, that she found Prentiss wearing a long red dress. By contrast, Martin finds her in the basement wearing “a threadbare grey overcoat, though beneath it her legs were bare” (so, she’s no longer wearing the long red dress) and holding “a stained green handkerchief.” The events of episode 6 occurred in late November 2014 - almost a year and a half before Martin’s encounter with her. So why was she still in that area after all that time? We know she isn’t physically unable to leave - she follows Martin all the way to his home in Stockwell. And where did she get the overcoat and the handkerchief? I’m assuming it came from another victim, though she could have stolen them I guess. As far as we know they never did follow up with Timothy Hodge, despite Jonathan noting in that episode that they probably should. Jonathan also hasn’t mentioned looking into missing persons reports from the area either, even though that seems to me like an obvious thing to investigate.

Speaking of investigating...my ears perked up when the owner of the building told Martin that Carlos’ cat now lives with the Sanderson couple in apartment 2. I immediately flashed back to episode 15 and Laura Popham’s missing (presumably dead) sister, Elena Sanderson. (I remembered the name because of the Sanderson sisters, of course. #90schild) I don’t think it’s an actual connection, though, for two reasons: First, it doesn’t fit the timeline. Elena went missing in June 2014, and this Sanderson couple apparently still lives in this building in early 2016. It could be a relative, or maybe she magically reappeared, but I don’t see any specific reason to think either of those things. Second, there are something like 20,000 people with that surname living in England (yay genealogy websites). If it were a less common name, I’d be more suspicious, but as it stands now I’m keeping it in mind but leaning towards it being a coincidence.

Some final thoughts on Jane Prentiss. She apparently “called herself to be a practicing witch and believed [herself] to be infected by a dangerous, unknown parasite.” This is the first time the word “witch” is mentioned in the show (unless you’re counting Julia Montauk going to see The Witches in episode 9 lol), but not the first time we have seen something, or someone, witch-like. There are almost too many examples of things that could be considered “magic” to list, but the ones that stand out to me the most as potentially witch-like are: Mary Key being alive and the bones falling out of the books in episode 4; Agnes Montague/Fielding/whatever her name is and her apparent agelessness in episode 8; Robert Montauk’s heart ritual in the shed in episode 11; the unnamed man’s chanting in the hospital in episode 12; and Angela in episode 14. I’m not sure how any of these might be connected, but now that the word’s been mentioned I’m considering it a possibility.

And lastly...“Keep him. We have had our fun. He will want to see it when the archivist’s crimson fate arrives.” Jonathan’s voice when he read that last part, man. Martin asks what it means, and he sounds genuine, but Jonathan...I think Jonathan was thinking the same thing I am: that “the archivist’s crimson fate” sounds an awful lot like the description of Gertrude Robinson’s death as foretold in the dream from episode 11, particularly in the description of the Institute: “It was this building into which all the veins flowed: every door, every window was solid with them. When the bursts of red light passed into it, the whole building glowed crimson.”

This post is part of a series where I write my thoughts about each episode and obsessively connect dots in an effort to figure out The Big Mysteries of the series. All posts in this series are tagged “is this liveblogging?” Comments and messages are welcome but I have only listened to season 1, so I ask that you not spoil me for anything beyond episode 40. In the words of Jonny Sims…thanks for listening!

Minor spoilers for a later episode in S1 after the cut.

Just have to take a moment to freak out about the fact that I completely forgot about Martin’s description of Jane Prentiss’ skin as “full of holes - deep, black holes just honeycombing every bit of flesh like a…wasps’ nest.” HOW DID I NOT NOTICE THAT HE USED THE EXACT SAME WORDS SHE DID IN HER STATEMENT. Like, I don’t know if it’s significant, or if the description just fit so well that Jonny wanted to reuse it, but...damn.

[tokoyamisstuff]

Fluff Alphabet with Loki!

So a long time ago I made an equivalent to the popular NSFW-Alphabet.

Will probably make one for Bucky, too. Hope you enjoy! (:

Feel free to use on your own writing Blogs!

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Even though he might seem a bit ‘extra’ sometimes, Loki is actually a very reserved person.

He isn’t one to visit busy, crowded places - however if it’s for your sake, he’ll probably endure it if you wish (for example: seeing your favourite band live).

Actually, he prefers peace and quiet - so it’s no wonder that he feels the most comfortable in nature of any kind. If you’re searching for him, you’ll be most lucky to catch him reading under a tree. He very much cherishes long walks or even picknicks with you, simply talking for hours to come.

Since he is very well read, you may expect to getting many books from him, as well as recommendations on what to read. It’s a passion he wants to share with his love, and your opinion on his favourite literature is very important to him!

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

Since he is able to take on many forms, beauty standarts of our world, as well as outer appearances in general, don’t quite apply to this man.

No matter the looks, the God of Lies would always manage to look behind one’s facade and see their true personality - and yours was what he could describe as epitome of beauty.

He maily endears attributes not directly connected to bodily limits, such as how your embrace would make him feel save and warm, or the way you know how to use your words.

Another thing would be your voice, no matter if spoken or sung. It manages to sooth him, no matter the situation.

He believes that the eyes of a person reveal even the deepest parts of their soul - and when he looks in yours, he can tell that you are truly in love with him. The shining affection he can decipher in them will never fail to amaze him!

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

Truth be spoken: If you’re feeling down, Loki is feeling pretty helpless, too.

Well, if you ask him, his skill is rather ruining someone’s mood instead of brighten in up. Anyway, he knows it would be selfish to dwell in his insecurities while you are in need of his help.

Your boyfriend will go to great lenghts just to see you smile again:

No matter if pulling magic tricks to distract you, extravagantly spoiling you the best he knows how or simply cradle you in his arms for as long as you need - he’ll pull the whole program. You’re the boss.

If you wouldn’t see it for yourself, you wouldn’t believe what kind of idiot the usually proud warrior is making out of himself while making such an effort. But it’s kinda cute, actually.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Believe it or not, but Loki is quite the cliché romantic when it comes to relationships.

He’s never been a person to cherish the superficial relations back on Asgards palace, and neither to stand to their social rules. You know how he was raised and what he’s gone through, so he would never want to go back to his old self.

Ever since you made him accept his origin and his past sins, there’s nothing standing in the way of the two of you even starting a family.

You giving birth to his heir will be the best day of his life - he is sure of it. And he is glad to have the chance to make everything better than his own adoptive father.

His top priority is keeping you save, and he’ll enjoy every single second of your time together.

It doesn’t matter where or how you are going to live - to Loki, home is where you are.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Oh, your boyfriend loves to play the game of who has the say.

There’s just no helping to this guy when he’s starting to press your buttons. Of course he respects you as much as no one ever before, but the sight of you to try and oppose him is just too attractive to him. He loves your fire!

In general, Loki believes in equality and talking everything over together. Even if he is basically a god, he’d never even think of being above you.

Actually, he has kind of a thing for being completely at someone’s mercy - at least in certain areas. (;

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Basically, you’d have fights about pity things, just to lay in each others arms a few minutes after.

It’s more of jokingly teasing rather than real conflict, with both of you breaking out in laughter this whole time. It’s really playful, with you making silly comments about the other.

The only real topics to discuss are Loki’s self-hate and some cultural differences, which are most of the time easily resolved. You just have an effect on this man that makes it hard for him to insist on his opinion.

Both of you will find a reasonable compromise, no matter what. That much is sure. Loki just can’t be mad at you for too long anyway.

In the end, before you even calmed down, Loki will simply pull you in his arms for a heavy make-out-session. Or even more - to make up for your fight. ;)

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

Not even his Silver Tongue could put in words just how grateful he is for everything you’ve done for him.

Before, he was a God, a Frost Giant and a man with a shameful past. But you’ve helped him become the man he always aspired to be.

But it’s not just the great deeds you’ve done to him - Loki is aware of every little effort you’ve put into the relationship. No detail would escape his wary eye - no admiring glance, soft kiss or thoughtful gift.

And he is sure to give it back to you a thousandfold!

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Even though you managed to accomplish the impossible and have earned his unquestioned trust, some things are still pretty hard for Loki to talk about.

The Asgardian is afraid of negatively affecting you with the remaining darkness in his heart, to trouble you with his thoughts or annoy you with his insecurities. 

He has everything he’s ever wanted, so why should he bother you with making you think that there’s something wrong?

Yet he knows that most of this is only his mind playing games on him - since he’s still not used to being blessed with this much happiness.

Don’t worry, he’ll never let the darkness get the better of him ever again - since he now has you, the light of his life!

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

As you should already know, you’ve made Loki accept and even truly love himself - even in his Jotun form.

He is not ashamed to use it in public, even for simple things as to cool you down on a hot summer day, or to better acclimate himself in cold areas. More than one time you’ve caught him admiring that form in front of the mirror, repeating the complimenting words you told him before.

But it’s also the other way around: Your boyfriend helped you to see your true worth, and to stand up for yourself.

You showed him that humans have more potential to be extraordinary than he ever thought before, after all. And he learned to enjoy many things about Midgard, due to your influence.

In return, he’d show you some magic tricks even a human could perform, as well as self-defense and knowledge humans have yet to learn about.

Together, the two of you make quite the infamous duo.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

It’s no secret that Loki isn’t the most confident one, and always fears of himself not being worthy or good enough - and he’s no different when it comes to the love of his life.

Yet he’s also pretty subtle with his jealousy, rather expressing it through silently suffering rather than just admit that he’s afraid to lose you.

He’d express it through mocking comments on the object he’s jealous of (mainly Thor, to be precize), but also overdoing it with gifts and compliments, showering you with affection.

Yet you know him better than that - you look right through his walls, realizing what all this is about. So there’s no room for misunderstandinds.

You’ll show him that you’re his and his only - and deep in his heart, he knows it the whole time. There’s no real use for him being jealous.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Well, he is  several centuries of experience ahead of you. But that’s no reason to get nervous!

Truth be spoken: He had always been pretty insecure about his comparatively thin lips, so he ‘practiced’ pretty hard to become a skilled kisser and make up for that fact.

It gets addicting, really: Once you felt the contrast of his cold, wet lips against your warm ones, you’ll never want to let go.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

Loki would want it to be the most special day just for you - but even though everything would be well-planned, his nervousness will overthrow everything.

He will be so different than usually, completely losing his cool and acting like a huge dork.

That sad man will think he completely fucked up, but to you, it had never been about huge actions or extraordinary gifts.

After his last attempt to impress you had failed, Loki would desperately blabber his heart out about his true feelings about you.

And that was all it took to win your heart - that the God of Lies would be honest with himself.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Loki yearns for you to be his, ever since the two of you finally became a couple.

Actually, he wanted you to be very sure about the relationship, giving it some time to adjust and getting used to each other even after the rose-coloured glasses would fade away.

But after almost losing you during a mission, he realized that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. He was determined to make you happy until your dying breath!

You wouldn’t suspect anything, since he would try to make it a big surprise - you could even call it a mischief.

He would probably make something like a paperchase, leading you to the most important places of your shared history, for example the spot of your first kiss.

In the end, he’d wait for you, revealing your new home he’d prepared all by himself.

Instead of a ring, he’d gift you an ancient, powerful relic - the Casket of Ancient Winters, saying it’s like a metaphor for you holding his dark side in check.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

He loves to improvise new names. It has become like a sport to him to switch between them. A collection of his favourites:

Dove

Petal

Dwarf (because of your in comparison to his small stature)

Babe (he loves the human slang in case of exception)

My Treasure

My Queen

My Light

My Soul

My Angel

Mistress, on special occasions ;)

In contrast, you’d simply call him things like “snowflake”, “dork” or “asshole”. He knows it’s your way of showing affection.

If you really want to drive him crazy you call him stuff like “master”, “lord” or “my king”.

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

He’ll probably be way over the top when it comes to helping you, and he’ll make a show out of it. Any wish dropping from your lips is his command.

Your praise makes his pride swell, and after so much time with you, he realized that it shouldn’t matter to him what others might think - the opinion of people he loves is the only thing that counts.

Loki’s strenght is in writing very poemic love letters, which he thoughtfully places on your nightstand for you to read, together with a flower or something else for you to wake up to.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

From the very first day, everyone knew - if they wanted to or not.

He’d brag about your beauty, wits, strenght, personality and talk everyone else down on the other hand. Every person on the tower is annoyed by his long, intense speeches about having found true love. No bad word may ever come over you as long as Loki is there.

Especially when it comes to his brother, he likes to show off like a galoot - sometimes softly slapping your ass or making out with you while staring him down, to “mark his territority”.

The two of you are basically inseperable - with Loki following you like a lost puppy, sometimes watching over you from within the shadows and fighting back to back on every mission.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

Only few people lived to know the truth: But Loki is actually a very talented singer.

He even tried to write his own songs, yet he had to do it in secret since his father thought it to be “unworthy for a warrior” and “pityful”.

So he was pretty ashamed when you catched him singing when you came back early and  he stood under the shower, but as soon as you reassured him that you loved it and it sounded beautiful, the house would be filled with Loki humming and singing whenever he felt like it.

Especially his lullabies are to die for.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Of course Loki is very smooth when it comes to flirting or complimenting you, making you feel like a young teenager with their first love.

But his true way of affection is rather through assisting you whever he can, as well as some other small, lovely gestures instead of talking much.

Loki really is someone to indulge his lover in any way possible.

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Loki is basically your biggest fan.

Sometimes he’s still feeling like your relationship is holding you back, so he will spare no expenses to assist you in whatever you want to achieve.

He also gives the best motivational speeches, making you feel like you could do anything.

If you finally reach your goal, he’s almost more excited about it than you!

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Your boyfriend can be very random - you could also call it mood swings. But you handle it well.

Even though he enjoys having a relatively normal life up to a certain extend, he is still a God and a Magician - I think that’s enough said about how many thrilling things happen to you on a regular basis.

Almost all of his thoughts revolve aound you and what surprise he could prepare to see your adorable reaction!

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Loki had his own fair share of pain in life, so yes, he’s very empathetic.

Of course he cannot understand what it’s like to be in a fragile, human body or properly understand your ways of living or coping with things, yet he finds your way of coping very admirable.

Your prince is a very good listener, softly stroking your hair or rubbing small circles on your back while he carefully listens to every detail of your pain.

He’s not one to give advice or judge anything, he likes to lead you towards your own resolution through conversation alone.

And you can be sure: He’s always there if you’re in need. No one would dare to hurt you, or they’d feel his wrath if it had to be!

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

Well, what should I say? That man gave up a throne just to be with you. I think I don’t need to elaborate that might isn’t a topic in his life anymore.

As said before: You are his top priority, even though you told him that he is now free to live as he pleases.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

Loki talks in his sleep.

Whenever you’d try to shuffle away from him or turn around, he’d swiftly scoop you into his arms again, always murmuring sweet words of affection into your ear.

Up until this day, he has no clue about it - it’s your own little secret.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Most certainly! You just got yourself a giant, freezing teddybear, dear! That man has to make up for years of neglection, after all. So ne is pretty needy for affection.

His speciality is trapping you in his hold with his limbs when you’re lying in bed, snuggling onto you from behin and especially plumping onto you and crushing you with is love.

Even in public, Loki just can’t bear not to be close to you. So you’ll always feel his leg pushing against yours when you sit next to each other, his hand on your knee or your pinkies intertwining.

He absolutely loves surprise hugs, burying his face in your neck and hastily placing some kisses against your face.

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

If you’re gone, he’s more likely to convert back to causing Mischief - even if only harmless one, like pulling pranks on Thor and the others.

You’ll get at least 20 calls a day by your angry teammates, like Nat complaining about how he changed her hair colour into green or turned into a spider to scare Scott.

And then, there’s Loki’s calls to add to that, mostly at night drunkenly telling you just how much he misses to have you in his arms and that every day without you is a lost one.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

It’s pretty much clear just what this man would do to you.

For you, he keeps his desire to cause mischief to a minimum, no matter how much it opposes his natural instinct.

He also had to promise you to not talk badly about himself, his past crimes or his Jotun form ever again.

Loki Odinson would die - no, live - for you. 

_______

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[crazygalore]

MICHAEL CORLEONE ( THE GODFATHER TRILOGY ) NSFW ALPHABET

Disclaimer: My portrayal of Michael Corleone is almost exclusively movie-based. I have read the book and respect it for what it represents, but I have a preference for movie Michael, since I first watched the film, and only read the book years later. That being said, I will selectively borrow elements from the novel here and there, if and when I see fit.

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

After having lost all hope of ever finding love again after having suffered through countless tragedies and betrayals, it is safe to assume that Michael treats you right in all aspects of your life together. So, after sex, he will draw you a hot bath and gently help you wash up and dry off afterwards. Then, he will tenderly tuck you into bed, bring you any snacks and beverages you may be craving, and afterwards he will lay down next to you and hold you against him until you fall asleep with your head on his chest.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He’s survived all of these years by keeping his eyes open and his mind clear, so he is quite fond of his keen and sharp gaze. He’s a bit of a sapiosexual, so while he thinks you are the sexiest and most attractive person in this world, it was your mind and your spirit that made him fall in love with you in the beginning. So, to this very day, having a stimulating conversation with you amps up his libido like nothing else.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He’s a traditionalist at heart, so he prefers finishing deep inside of you, although he will mark you with his seed if that was something you enjoyed. You would have to ask him to do it, though.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He loves seeing you wear his clothes - especially his shirts - because he thinks of it as a reinforcement of his claim on you. Although he is not one of those overly jealous or extremely possessive partners, the sight of you enveloped in his garments always manages to reassure him that you are his and his alone, to love and cherish until the day he dies. 

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Surprisingly, Michael has only slept with three women in the past - namely a former girlfriend and his two former wives. But although his experience is relatively limited, he’s been doing it long enough to know exactly how to drive his partner insane with desire and pleasure.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Usually it’s either missionary or doggy style, depending on the mood. On one hand, he likes being able to hold you in his arms and look into your eyes as he pounds into you - but on the other hand, the sight of your pretty ass and his girth disappearing inside of you drives him absolutely bonkers. Once in a while, however, when he is particularly exhausted, Michael will just sit back and relax as you ride him to completion. 

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Normally, he is very passionate and serious in bed, because making love to you is one of the few times when he can show you his more vulnerable and romantic side. That being said, realistically speaking sex is a very accident-prone activity in general, and some mishaps are funnier than others - and he is comfortable enough around you to crack an apologetic smile when that happens. 

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

With a military background and his current position as a don, Michael is a very clean and tidy person, and he keeps himself well groomed and trimmed down there. It is not his habit to shave completely, however, unless you expressed your preference for it.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Michael is a man hardened by the lifestyle he had no choice but embrace. He has learned to guard his heart, smother his conscience and use his reason to make educated and oftentimes ruthless decisions for the sake of his family’s safety and prosperity. But you are his sanctuary, and in your arms he feels loved, chrished and nurtured - and he feels the need to reciprocate your gestures of affection and show you his vulnerable and romantic side. So sex with Michael is always an intimate, passionate and intense experience.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He doesn’t do it that often - if at all. When it happens, it’s always in the shower, and he sees it as nothing more but instant gratification for his body’s biological functions - nothing more. It only ever happens if you two happen to be away from each other, for example during his solo business trips.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

A food kink, because nothing gets him going quite like licking whipped cream and frosting off your gorgeous body. Light bondage and domination - but nothing too extreme, as his intention is simply to bring you pleasure and not to demean you. Edging, orgasm denial and mild spanking, but nothing more hardcore than that. As previously stated, he loves seeing you wearing his shirts, and he has fucked you countless times while you were still garbed in them. Also a mild and barely there breeding kink.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

He’s a very private individual, so only in the comfort and safety of your home, usually in your bedroom or your shared bathroom. If he is 100% sure nobody will accidentally walk in on you too, he will definitely fuck you on the kitchen counter, and put that food kink of his to good use.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

As a sapiosexual ( a person who finds intelligence to be a sexually attractive quality in others ), having a long and stimulating debate with you is an instant turn-on. Other than that, you are gorgeous and you are all his, and your very presence fills him with desire. So, as long as the two of you are alone, without the risk of being interrupted, he’s game. But if you’re ever not feeling like it, he won’t pressure you into having sex with him, nor will he act grumpy because of it. You are his beloved, and he respect and adores you at all times.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He will never harm or demean you in any way. So anything too extreme and damaging is out of the question, no matter how much you might beg him to change his mind.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

The sight of you, kneeling before him, with your pretty lips wrapped around his girth is heaven for Michael. There are things that you can do with your wicked tongue that drive him completely crazy with need, and he oftentimes finds himself thrusting against your talented mouth. That being said, he reciprocates the gesture every single time, and he is very skilled at it. With a flick of his tongue in the right spot, and a well placed suckle, he can bring you to completion in no time - and he usually isn’t satisfied unless he’s given you several earth-shattering orgasms using only his mouth and deft fingers.

P = Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Depending on the mood, Michael can be slow and sensual, or fast and rough - but it is always a passionate exchange fuelled by your love and perpetual desire for one another. Sex with Michael is much more than a mere carnal act, but rather a complete fusion of your bodies and souls into one.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He’s a busy man with a tight schedule, so once in a while you two simply have to make do with a quick hard fuck.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He’s game for experimenting within reason. As long as none of you ends up being hurt or humiliated, he’s willing to give it a try.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Depending on how tired or well-rested he is, it spans from quickies to extended lovemaking sessions that last all night long. He rarely cums before you do, and usually that happens if you teased him too much beforehand. Even then, he will either recover and fuck you until reach orgasm as well, or he will use his mouth and fingers on you until you are satisfied. 

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He’s not opposed to toys, but he’s an old school kinda guy, so you would pretty much have to talk him into incorporating them into your guys’ sex life. Be warned, though, he will most probably use them to edge you until you are practically crying for release.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

It depends on his mood, really. Sometimes he likes to give you exactly what you want, when you want it - and sometimes he can be a complete and utter tease, to the point he drives it drives you completely nuts.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He’s relatively quiet, with a couple of low grunts and moans sprinkled in-between laboured breaths. However, he usually cums with a long groan he usually muffles against your neck or shoulder.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice) X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Well, you know what they say: Tiny man, huge “ego “. And Michael is the perect embodiment of this phrase. The boy is hung and he knows how to it to bring you maximum satisfaction, 100% guaranteed, no returns. 

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive is not actually that high, but he very rarely refuses you if you initiate it. Once you get him going, however, he is relentless.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Usually he stays up a little longer to admire your slumbering form, as it has a calming effect on him. He will eventually fall asleep with you in his arms, once that brilliant and busy mind of his runs out of fuel.

[oveliagirlhaditright]

Okay. So Light and L talking about the Phantom of the Opera (mostly the novel) text. (Why? Because these two are geniuses, so I feel they’d talk about smart things: like classic literature, if they were to talk about novels at all. And this is, like, the only classical novel I’ve read, that I actually remember and care about. So here we go.)

L: All I’m saying, is that Christine should have chosen Erik. He did so much for her. And she has a bond with music with him that she never will with Raoul.

A Light who doesn’t remember the death note--and thus has morals--is insulted by this. Light: ...But Ryuzaki. Surely it doesn’t matter “what he did for her”, as opposed to how he treated her. Right? The guy terrorized the poor girl. And he preyed upon her after the death of her father--and made her think that he was the angel her father promised he’d send her--so, no? All Erik gave Christine was chaos and destruction, so I get why she chose order and love.

L: But Light-kun, you are forgetting that the dear Phantom could have never shown Christine order and love--as you put it--since he was never shown that himself. But perhaps she could have taught him it. And Raoul’s hands aren’t squeaky clean in all this, either--spying on Christine against her wishes, and all that--and I can moreso excuse Erik’s flaws, for what he went through, than those of a privileged viscount.

Light: I still don’t think she should have had to stay with him to “teach him love”, Ryuzaki. I’ll admit that Erik’s backstory is a tragic one... but Christine gave him more than enough. More than anyone could have rightly asked of her, after all he did to her. And I don’t think all what he went through, somehow makes his heinous actions more redeemable than Raoul’s lesser ones, just because Raoul had it easier. And hold up... please don’t tell me you mean any of this for real life. Like, if a girl was abused by someone who claimed to love her, are you saying she should still stay with him--“to teach him love”--if he’s never been given that before?

L: Of course I wouldn’t say that in a real life situation, Light-kun. But as this is a fictional story we are talking about and just that, I feel no remorse in thinking Christine loved the Phantom more, and thus she should have stayed with him to see if they could have worked it out. He had changed by the end of the story through seeing her selflessness, after all.

Light: ...But don’t you think okaying such a thing in fiction is putting you on a slippery slope, so that you might eventually have your ideas skewed here?

(L’s getting kind of irritated now.) L: You know that isn’t how it works, right? Just because one reads Harry Potter, for example, does not mean that they will then try to become a witch or wizard. And violent video games, do not make one violent if they didn’t already have those impulses within them. So I think I am fine to care about this relationship, that most of the world prefers.

Light: ...Okay, fine. Agree to disagree. But I guess if you’re bringing up the adaptations, I will admit that some of them do make the Erik and Christine relationship better, so I can kind of get where you’re coming from there. Though others make it even worse than it was...

L: And if it makes you feel any better, I like Raoul better in the musical. Many people feel the other way: that the musical really sacrificed his character, as it geared towards its Phantom and Christine telling. And while some of that is certainly true... it’s still nice to get rid of Raoul’s annoying inner-monologue, as he falls in love for the first time, and rather see the best parts of his personality, as he tries to take charge and save the company from this masked man’s threats and also to save the girl he loves. ...But more than anything, Light-kun, I think I’m coming to realize one should really ‘ship’ Christine with her own autonomy. And I do not complain about such adaptations where she leaves both of her suitors behind, and goes on to be a star.

Light: Here, here.

You guys might think I should have had Light and L being on the opposite sides I wrote them on here... and maybe I should’ve. But IDK. I guess I wanted to show what a good guy Light is (mostly) without the death note, and therefore highlight how sad it s that he finds it, and eventually ends up going against his own morals (like, here he’s Christine’s number one defender here. But when he has the death note, he treats Misa like crap. There’s a sad irony there:(). And this was also maybe to show that L isn’t perfect, as we all know? But The Phantom of the Opera is fiction, so L shipping Erik and Christine, so to speak, certainly isn’t hurting anyone. Edit: It also occurs to me that Kira would probably want to kill Erik if he was real. LOL

If anyone wants to know, I kind of used to be an Erikstine shipper. Now I’m definitely more a Raoulstine. And I prefer the novel to the musical (and the Raoul in the book over the one in the show... though I know a few think musical!Raoul is better). Anyway...

[bubblyani]

Christmas Blues

(Lucifer Morningstar x Reader)

A Lucifer Morningstar Christmas One Shot

Genre: Fluff

Authors Note: Some heart warming Lucifer Christmas Fluff is just what we need. Something perfect for Christmas eve. Hope you all enjoy!

Los Angeles, it has always been a spectacle. But it seems to double in spirit, especially during Christmas time. So it was no surprise how you would prefer to walk, than drive on short trips around the city.

Going to LUX for example.

It was your first ever Christmas here, and it certainly felt different. Involuntary humming of Christmas tunes may reach your ears, but then they’d stop, for your heart broke a bit every time you did.

Waitresses, bartenders, dancers dressed provocatively in red, white and green, LUX remained LUX; with a Christmas touch of a lustful nature. Spotting the one you hoped to find, you swam through the crowded sea of people towards the bar.

“Lucifer!”

Beautiful women draped in his arms, Lucifer Morningstar turned upon hearing your voice from across the room. Flashing a bright smile, he was certainly happy to see you. You may be his friend, but that does not hold you back from appreciating the handsome man he always was.

“Y/N! Darling...you made it” he cried. 

“Indeed I did...with purpose of course” Smiling back, you replied loudly as you held up your leather bag.

“Oh yes! That....” he remembered, releasing the two women from his arms, “Y/N...meet the twins Selina and Sylvia” he said, gesturing to the beautiful brunettes by his side,  “Excuse me ladies, but there are some important matters that need to be attended to...” he said, amidst their protests and their pouts, “...but no matter. I will  be right with you two”

Guilt seeped through you, being the party crasher tonight. A night with Lucifer Morningstar apparently was quoted “The best night ever”. So you’d pout too if you were lucky enough to be in their place.

“He’ll be back soon, sorry” mouthing the words, you looked apologetic as you could be, before you followed your friend upstairs.

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

“I bet it was a tough bargain”

“Well...your name certainly did the trick . I really don’t know why you need this version of the book”

“Oh there’s something about Oscar Wilde that i just cannot resist”

Shaking your head with confusion, you handed him the old leather bound book.

“So...what plans await you tonight Y/N?” Lucifer asked, as he got up. You sighed, dreading that question.

“I really prefer you asking me that any day but today Lucifer”

“Why? What’s the matter?” He looked troubled, while pouring you a glass of scotch.

Suddenly it all felt more difficult. Pressing your lips together, you began.

“Cause it’s Christmas...”

“Chri-? Ah Christmas...ah yes...” feigning laughter, Lucifer looked up, “Good one dad...” he said, sarcasm quite strong there, “...don’t really even see the importance of this bloody stupid day”

“It’s not stupid” you interjected, accepting the glass he offered. Although that response came out faster than expected.

“Y/N...” Lucifer began with surprise, “I did not take you for a religious person...I’m mortified”

“I’m not-…” pausing, you were aware of your over emotionality, “I’m not religious” You sighed once again, before taking a sip “....truthfully it’s not the religious part I’m a fan of”

“Then?” He asked. You shrugged.

“It’s the family part. Being with family”

You said, while you got lost in your own thoughts for a few seconds. Little did you know, pure concern was all that your friend could show you at that moment.

“So...does that mean you’re not spending Christmas  with anyone?” You continued with an inquiry.

Lucifer laughed. “No....why should I?”

“How’s that possible ?” You kept on, “What about your friends? Chloe?”

“She, Dan and the little one are...”

“Of course...” you said, nodding, “and Linda  and Ella probably are occupied too from the looks of it-Maze! What about Maze?” You asked, snapping your fingers.

“Out on a bounty hunt...” Lucifer answered casually, “Christmas is a great time for crime, surprisingly….not-”

“AMANADIEL?!?”

Lucifer almost spat in his drink as you yelled it out while standing.

Lucifer sighed, “...out of the country. Y/N, what’s the matter with you?”

“Wow...” you breathed, shaking your head, “Unbelievable”  as you sat down on the piano stool.

“Well believe it Ms. Y/L/N!” He said, sitting right next to you. You could not help but click your tongue. “It’s just that ...this is the time to be with the people you love...” you said, looking at him “Don’t you miss your family?”

“That...is not for me to decide” Lucifer replied coldly, taking another sip.

“Well...whatever the case, I’m sure your family misses you” you said, casually playing notes of a G major chord.

“Oh I highly doubt that” He opposed.

“What??“ your voice went high. “No no ...” taking his glass, you took a huge sip, making a disgusted face right afterwards that made him laugh, “...Lucifer ...no matter what...family is family”

Aware of the profound words that you spat out, you smiled at him, “I’m annoying you now, huh?”

“Oh...darling...” taking the glass back from you, Lucifer continued, “You can never annoy me”

Moved by his sweetness, you looked down at the piano keys, “You know...my ex he...he broke up with me last Christmas. It was...” you shuddered, “...horrible. But...I had my family with me. So all was good. This time however...no one” your tone lowered as you came to that horrid realization.

“Well...” Lucifer began, “not no one” 

His kindness moved you even more. So much so you felt like you might turn into mush. He was right.

Suppressing a smile, you kept staring  at the keys, “...You a fan of Christmas songs?”

“Ah don’t you dare steer me in to this” Lucifer protested in an instant. 

“No no I'm not  ...” you chuckled. “It’s just that ...one song in particular really speaks to me tonight. I wondered  if you know this one...” As the fingers caressed the keys until they finally landed on the chord, you cleared your throat as you began to sing: 

“The... jingle bells are jingling , The streets are white with snow

The happy crowds are mingling

But there's no one that I know” 

With a scoff, you continued:

“I'm sure that you'll forgive me” Looking over at Lucifer, you sang in your most beautiful,

“If I don't enthuse.I guess I've got the Christmas blues...

“...don’t you know this?” You asked, only to find him looking confused.

“I've done my window shopping.

There's not a store I've missed

But what's the use of stopping

When there's no one on your list

You'll know the way I'm feeling

When you love and you lose”

The hint of sadness in your voice was quite evident:

“ I guess I've got the Christmas blues”

You couldn’t believe how he was still unfamiliar with this song. Then again, so did most people. However, you did not give up. Playing the next chord, you sang with conviction:

“When somebody wants you

Somebody needs you

Christmas is a joy of joy”

Enamored with the words, your head was up on the clouds. Until  it came down in an instant with the next chord:

“But friends, when you're lonely You'll find that it's only-”

“A thing for little girls and little boys”

Your ears were invigorated by the sudden emergence of Lucifer’s voice. “I remember this one” he finally said, with a happy realization. Queuing each other, you both drew in a deep breath :

“May all your days be merry

Your seasons full of cheer”

His accompaniment complimented the voices as the song continued:

“But 'til it's January

I'll just go and disappear”

You both chuckled with empathy. For it seemed so relatable.

“Oh, Santa may have brought you some stars for your shoes,

But Santa only brought me the blues”

Finally, you felt as if you were gazing in to the eyes of someone who finally knew.

“Those brightly packaged tinsel covered Christmas... ....blues”

When the ending chord came into formation, Lucifer took his hands off the keyboard with a smile on his face. Especially since he noticed you were about to burst with excitement.

“We sound ....so great together “ you said, stars twinkling in your eyes. “YES! indeed we do” nodding, Lucifer replied.

Clapping your hands, you were ecstatic, “It’s so cool...”

“What say we do this every week at Lux ?”

You could not even believe what just escaped Lucifer’s lips.

“Duet ?” You asked, wide eyed,  “...with you? Sign me up!” Clapping once again, You swore your smile would combust into billions and light up the room. And suddenly,  your heart felt festive as it should be on Christmas Eve. Enough to fill the rest of the night.

The singing did not stop, in fact, it continued longer than you imagined. Plans started to take shape, with various attempts on several repertoires. Harmonizing with his beautiful voice gave you an all new kind of high. For the vocal chemistry was just right.

Singing led to hankering for food. Lucifer watched you, suppressing his laughter until his finally couldn’t. Especially when you sang to the phone, placed your order for pizza. And when the innocent delivery boy arrived, it was you who couldn’t stop laughing when your friend sang to him, tipping generously as he did so. 

The piano finally took a break when the music began to play in the background. A mini dance party was declared by you. “Of course, this is the more humble version than what you have downstairs” you said as you stretched yourself.

Fueled by the joyous spirit, Lucifer surprisingly agreed, dancing alongside you while challenging you with various styles.

“Surely you must have seen Pulp Fiction...” you’d tease him,

“Of course i have ...how dare you even doubt “ Mr. Morningstar replied, not losing to your movements as he flaunted his figure in rhythm.

Many twists later, you found yourself involuntarily looking at your watch.

12:30 am

Finally, you did it. Twisting and sobering your way into a new day. A day you dreaded to spend alone.

“Well...what do ya know?” You said, panting, “It’s midnight and-“ gasping, you came to a realization, “Oh no!” You cried out, covering your mouth, “The TWINS!..they must have been waiting for you”

Guilt washed over you, for you never intended to crash the party.

“Ah! not to worry...” Lucifer said, disregarding it immediately, “I’m sure they found themselves something to be entertained by...ah! pleasuring each other for example...”

You burst out with laughter, “...eww” 

Truthfully, you stood there before him, feeling nothing but grateful.

“Merry Christmas Lucifer!” You smiled, “...Thank You for a memorable evening” “Merry Christmas to you darling...and stop being so polite” Lucifer chuckled, welcoming you with open arms as you went for an embrace.

In the cold winter that reigned the city, you never felt this warm. His embrace, it felt special. More than ever. Safe in his arms, you were reminded of the joy you felt with your family. The joy that was birthed with pure love. Except it was different. But in a good way. You did not want to let go. You reluctantly did though, to his surprise.

“Um yeah...” you muttered, with your hands on your waist, “So...I guess I’ll be going then...” Leaving was the last thing on your mind. Grabbing your bag quickly, you just wished for a reason that could ultimately make you stay.

“Wait!” Lucifer cried out the moment you passed him.

“Yeah?” You asked, turning around in a flash. “It’s late...” he struggled. You raised your eyebrows , “It’s only midnight, Lucifer”

“Still...it’s Late” he stressed out, hands on his waist, “Stay...will you?” His voice grew soft with his humble request. You could not believe your ears.

“You really don’t have to be polite-”

“I insist...” he interrupted, “Stay... please”

You smiled, willfully throwing in the towel. For you were glad Lucifer Morningstar gave you a reason to stay.

——————————————————

A nice, hot shower cleaned you, and his one of his crisp white shirts along with a pair of boxers certainly cozied you up. Little did you know, the next dilemma would be the sleeping arrangements.

“I really don’t mind the couch Lucifer...” 

“Nonsense! You’re taking the bed. I’m perfectly fine at the couch”

Sitting on one corner of the bed, you patted on the other side, “Come on...let’s share. I don’t bite”

“Oh...” with a mischievous chuckle, Lucifer continued, “I certainly don’t mind if you do-”

“Just please come on!” Rolling your eyes, you insisted.

It felt strange, to watch him climb on to the bed so carefully, and lay on his designated corner with discipline. So much it made you chuckle with disbelief. He did not move an inch, as if he was afraid to hurt you.

Except all this led to an awkward  silence that filled the room. Until you had enough of that.

“...You are allowed to go down you know!” You began with guilt, “ Party away my friend...Or I can actually go... back I don’t wan-”

“No!” He answered instantly, “It’s just that...this feels new. Laying in bed with a woman just to...sleep”

Affected by his adorable nature, you giggled, laying on your side to look at him.

“Damn...” you said, “Your life must be a roller coaster ride of one night stands”

“Yes...I suppose it is...” he said, quite fascinated by your expression. Suddenly, you had an urge. You just knew you had to fulfill it.

“Lucifer...” “Mmm??”

You took a deep breath:  “Can you hold me?“ Breaking into a soft chuckle, he smiled: “Oh of course I can, love...come here”

Excited, you wriggled your way towards his open arms, until he wrapped one around you, bringing you close. The moment your head rested on his chest, you felt that special warmth once again.

“That’s better” you breathed.

When you felt his hold on you tighten , butterflies began to birth inside. Before you grew curious, you just ignored it, indulging in the joy you were blessed to be immersed in.

“I rather have your constant rambling than the plain quiet...I just realized that“ your honesty spoke out.

Looking down at your head, Lucifer seemed glad, “Really??” He asked, attempting to stroke it.

“Yep...” you nodded, “...tell me about one of your lustful adventures...they seem fun” you said, staring at the ceiling.

“My...this seems too good to be true!”

——————————————————

“So then what happened? What was her fantasy?”

Dying of curiosity, you asked, snuggled in his warmth. Lucifer sighed.

“Her fantasy was...drum roll please...Having sex at the Ball Pit of a Chuck E Cheese”

“What? No waaaay...”

“Yes...can you believe it? apparently the thought of getting caught turns the minx on”

“Oh ho! That type huh?” You replied, suddenly becoming more aware of your eyelashes as you slowly began to blink, “So what was your response?”

“I said...I’d rather eat a plate of warm mayonnaise than visit that Child laden Cesspool”

You chuckled at his response, along with a little yawn.

“But still...” Lucifer continued, “...a little practice wouldn’t hurt anyone. So there we w-”

A snore. A loud snore, interrupted him. And he found it actually belonged to you.

Sound asleep, there you were, comfortable in his arms with a soft smile adorning your face.

Smiling back, Lucifer could not help but hold you a bit tighter. He looked up, only to whisper something in a way he never imagined.

“ Ah Christmas“ he said, with a sense of gratefulness, “Good one, dad”

——————————————————

Tagged: @ladyofwalpurgis​​ @kittenlittle24​ @aberrant-annie​​ @ellimcgiseler​​ @therealcap​

Wanna get TAGGED?

Check My LUCIFER MASTERLIST here :)

[nctzendreamz]

HOMECOMING • PROLOGUE

Prologue / Part l / Part ll / Part lll

Summary: The year is 3030, and the divide between the rich and poor couldn’t be greater. Wildwood University is the most prestigious school in the entire world, but it isn’t only because of the impeccable flying cars that can be seen best during the fuchsia lit nights, or the dexterous education everyone receives. It has secrets. A lot of secrets.

Genre: Gang!AU, Futuristic!AU 

Warnings: Vivid descriptions of violence, foul language, drug use, and murder.

Author’s Note: I love you all. I hope you will love this rollercoaster of emotions as much as I do.

Once upon a time, there was a boy. This boy was gentle, and loved to explore. Sometimes, he’d even allow his imagination to posses his body, pretending he was something he knew he’d never be, such as a racecar driver, a superhero, or his favorite—loved.

Now, as that boy travels down the dark corridor that lead to his instructor, he can’t help but to smile. His left hand caresses the mangled brick wall, reminding him of every waste of space that had been dismembered in his sanctuary. Even the two men who were unnecessarily escorting him down the dimly lit space seemed frightened at the way he lightly chuckles to himself, but they know if they look at him wrong, he’ll simply kill them too.

As they approach what was known as the “black door”, he knocks a familiar tune, informing the man on the other side it was one of his own.

With an almost cinematic effect, all of the locks audibly unravel, and a flashing light blinks onto his face, silently giving him permission to step in. He looks around, trying to see if any new souvenirs had been added to the otherwise plain walls, but he sees nothing fresh. The picture of all of the boys of NEO rests in the center of the large room, and as always, he spots himself first. 

“Lee Taeyong.”  A deep voice addresses, obviously coming from the leather chair which was turned the opposing way. 

“Mr. Sooman.” He bows, although the man couldn't see him. They didn’t have the technology for such a myth, but there was always a fear he had eyes in the back of his head.

The chair slowly begins to turn, revealing the only person in this world that brought fear into Taeyong. His current sadistic smile was a testament to that, as well as the sweat that began to form under the arms of the boy. 

“Why so stiff? It’s just me, your father?” He teases.

“My apologies.” Was all Taeyong could muster, now wanting nothing more than to get straight to the point. He wanted his mission.

“Did you take your pill today?”

“Of course I did.” He lied.

“Then why are you so jittery? He eyes the slim boy suspiciously, standing up now.

Taeyong decides on silence, as he doesn’t want to speak his truth to his father figure. His eyes once again fall on the photo hanging, and he tries to relax himself by focusing on his hair color. He can now vaguely see it’s raging orange print, probably the most color he’d ever see in his lifetime.

His meditation is interrupted with the sound of two precise claps, and a tiny robot now at his feet projecting light onto the blank wall. What seemed like millions of photos appear one by one, and so much color. Even though it was faded, he was still incredibly fascinated.

His eyebrows are raised ever so slightly, and his mouth waters, yet, he can still sense his elder approaching him. It ran through his blood to do so. He always had to be on guard. If anyone was able to run up on you, and hurt you even slightly, you’d most likely be murdered by the others because—how can you be so dumb? How can you sleep at night without the feeling of someone watching you? Your hairs stand up, a chill stretches against you. It’s very simple, actually.

“I’m sure you’ve heard of Wildwood?”

Taeyong snaps his focus back on the man who’s eyes were watching him intently. “Yes. Founded in 2002 by Lobos Smith. Known as the most prestigious, and honorable university in the world. They specialize in futuristic science, and were the first school to perfect the seemingly impossible flying car. In short, rich motherfuckers.” He spat, feeling his blood pressure heighten at the mention of wealthy.

“Very good, boy.” Mr. Sooman continues to circle his apprentice, as the wood floor creaks with his every step. “As you know, we’ve always had buisness with the Smith’s.”

Taeyong nods confidently, showing with his body language that he was genuinely aware of this fact.

“Well, I want you to kill them.”

The screen zooms into four faces, none of them familiar to him. A man, a woman, a girl, and a boy.

“This is the Smith family. Maleen Smith, President of Wildwood. His wife, Bianca, his son Johnny, and your most important target, Y/N.”

“Why is she the most important?” Taeyong questions, finally getting comfortable in his element. You could say what you wanted about him, but you couldn’t deny his manipulative talents, and serious approach for his job. He was always thirsty for blood.

“Because she is their pride and joy.” Mr. Sooman responds with a devilish grin, clearly knowing more than he was revealing. “Sweet girl, smart girl, naive girl.”

“So what? You want me and the guys to meet them for dinner or something? Blast their heads off?” 

The team of NEO was a dangerous one, and everyone who lived in this hell knew it. Their kills were always vicious, but the handmade masks they wore during their greatest hits hid their identity. All of them were specifically designed to the personalities of the boys, and their set skills. Taeyong, for example, always spotted a bedazzled fox, labeled red although he had yet to test that to be true. It was a metaphor to his sly nature, always able to easily grab the attention of clueless street-walkers. They were so awful at selling, and making deals for drugs that made people go off the charts. So easy to take advantage of.

They were essentially target practice. Something to play with. A pure rush; giving them their fix of killing and feeling superior because in any of situation, they were powerless. They were poor, and every fucking day did they have to watch projections of news from the other side. So many new inventions. More ways to protect the earth from falling back to its horrid ways. The way NEO looked. Dirty—dull.

Taeyong’s hand naturally reaches for his weapon that was always stashed in his pants, and quite a few scenarios run through his brain; different approaches that could be taken. “Call the meeting and consider it done, sir.”

“While I do appreciate your hungry nature, boy; I’m sure you’ve noticed that you’re the only person in this room right now, haven’t you?” The undertone of his voice reads nothing but menace, and Taeyong is truly trying his hardest to prevent his eyes from squeezing shut, or letting a mere drip of sweat dazzle from his forehead onto the ground. It would reveal he did indeed lie about taking his pill, and that would mean he’d have to double up.

“I have noticed, but I figured that I was in here because I’m the most superior.”

In reality, he wasn’t such a cocky bastard. At least, when he wasn’t high off of Indigo. That was the drug Sooman kept pestering him about, and it was what seperared NEO from the rest of the poor souls who lived in this baseless city. That’s what they were told.

Indigo made them strong, and it made them unstoppable. The more they took, the greater their kills felt, and the more their talents shined. Some were more addicted than others, and didn’t care about the black and white scenery that covered their headspace. Others, like Taeyong, planned to sneak up to the rooftop of the building tonight and see the sky, even if it would be half colored, half gray. At least that was the plan, before now.

They were always told that if they didn’t take their pill, the side effects would be deadly. Taeyong now knows this to be true, as his anxiety couldn’t be more intense in an environment where he was usually light and easy, and his mind is spinning. Random spurts of color can be seen everytime he moves his eyes in another direction, and even the colors on the projector are incredibly detailed.

“So you did take your pill today.” The man laughs, patting him on the back. “You’re right, you know.” His voice is light now, almost like a switch removing his dark demeanor. The sound of the floor creaking was practically making Taeyong lose his mind, but he can’t show it. “You are the best. And that is why this mission isn’t going to just be a ‘get the job done’ kind of mission.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” He reaches for his back pocket, pulling out a sheet of paper. It was folded into three, and Taeyong can feel his eyebrows basically touching, and his petite nose scrunching as he opened up his mail.

“Congratulations on being excepted into Wildwood University! Founded in 2002, it’s always been Wildwood’s mission to accept the best, so the future can be bright! Lee Taeyong, we cannot wait for you to transfer to our school of futuristic science, and see all you have to offer the brightest side of the world!”

That was all he had to see before he looks up in shock, clearly unable to believe in such an opportunity.

“I’m going—

“Yes. You, a poor boy, going to their world.”

“And I’m going to invade.” He seemingly finished.

“You’re not just going to invade. You’re going to make that girl fall in love with you, and you’re going to make those wealthy pieces of shit trust you, and then—when they finally accept you as their son, and that girl would die for you, you will bring them to me.”

“Like a parasite.”

“No. You, my boy, were born to eliminate the parasites. They don’t deserve to multiply, or reproduce.”

Maybe it was because of the lack of intoxication, but Taeyong feels himself getting too excited about this. The manipulation was excellent, and the plan couldn’t fail. He was charming in all aspects of the word.

“What did they do to you?” Was his final question. He once again is in a stare down with the older man infront of him, who had returned to his seat now.

“They took something from us, and they have to pay. No mistake goes unseen in NEO. You know that.”

“I won’t let you down, sir.” Taeyong bows, just as he did when he originally walked in. The respect was clear, even if the roots of the plan seemed eerie. He trusted his leader with his life, and if he said someone needed to die, it was the truth. He was going to bring their heads back on a silver fucking platter.

[toxicpineapple]

is there a specific reason u dont like oumota?? or do u just Dislike it

oh boy anon you’re really gonna have me go into that kinda conversation alright... i guess it’s no secret that oumota is my least favourite pairing, so i don’t mind talking about it. all that aside please keep in mind that these are my opinions and i have a lot of respect for people who ship any pairing (aside from the problematic ones, obviously, pro-ship dni) and i have zero desire to start any fights with anybody.

i’ve never been a fan of enemies-to-lovers as a trope. i think it’s good to start there. one of my earliest fandoms was the death note fandom, and there was a LOT of lawlight (l x light) content. still is, i’m sure, i just haven’t been by the fandom in a while. i just, i absolutely hated it. i was in fifth grade at the time so i was a bit... oblivious, to chemistry between characters as a whole, but also, it just didn’t make any sense to me! they hated each other! why would you think that’s a good relationship! light LITERALLY wanted l dead and i’m not gonna say any spoilers in case i have followers who haven’t seen the show yet but the way things go down... it just didn’t make sense to me. there was the homoerotic foot rubbing scene, of course, and l tells light that they’re friends, but light was being ACTIVELY MANIPULATIVE the entire time. i didn’t see why people would want to ship people who are enemies. i couldn’t wrap my head around it.

after being in fandom for a bit longer, i think i’ve managed to figure it out, lol. i am (and will always be) of the belief that any pairing can be done well, given enough time and attention. (again aside from the problematic ones i’m not here to engage with incest or pedophilia okay that shit is nasty and i don’t need your “it’s fiction!” bull that kind of mindset perpetuates abuse.) if you can sell me on it, then damn, sure, i’ll be into it. i’m still not big on enemies-to-lovers, that fifth grade mindset of “it’s so weird to ship people who hate each other” hasn’t really gone away, but i’m open to it. if you can sell it, i’ll buy it! that kind of thing.

i still prefer friends-to-lovers though. in the danganronpa fandom, i’ve always prefered naegiri and hinanami over naegami and komahina. (oumasai and saimota are the exception, i go back and forth on them but ultimately i love them equally, ouma being my favourite antag and all) i just think that positive interactions are healthier, and communication is easier when you’re not at each other’s throats all the time. this is obviously my opinion, subject to debate and all that, yadda yadda yadda. i’ll take shy smiles across the breakfast table over homoerotic pauses in the middle of arguments any day of the week.

i think you’re starting to get the reason why oumota isn’t my cup of tea. still, i like naegami and komahina, like, a LOT. enough that i would write them on my own time, extensively, just because i feel like it. there are pairings where i wouldn’t be so willing, where i’d just shrug and do it if requested but ultimately keep to my side of the playground. even if i don’t immediately jump to shipping people who dislike each other, that doesn’t mean i should have an avid hate for this pairing! so what gives?

it comes down to this, anon: ouma and momota HATE each other in canon. with a lot of enemies-to-lovers things, there’s like, a brief moment of mutual appreciation to give people steam. byakuya and makoto have that!!! byakuya is there to help makoto as much as he can after their killing game, and from post-chapter four onwards byakuya is unreservedly on makoto’s side. they work together!!!! at the end of the game byakuya says he’ll help if people need it!!!!! (through the byakuya translator ofc.) and then he DOES!!!!!!! he went into the neo-world program to help makoto!!!

and komahina has that too!!! all of chapter one, for example? nagito’s ftes? at the end of nagito’s ftes hajime starts to really, truly understand why nagito is the way he is. he doesn’t agree with his actions but he gets it! and he feels BAD for him!! so bad that nagito lies and says what he’s been talking about didn’t really happen. not to mention 2.5, and post-canon, all the potential for slowburn while the remnants are living together on jabberwock island.... they make me soft.

saiouma has that too, i mean, i wouldn’t call saiouma enemies-to-lovers necessarily if only because shuichi is so passive for most of the game, but they have those, like, those small moments. ouma calls shuichi his beloved, and i do believe his behaviour in chapter four was just manipulation, but still, y’know, he was flirting. ouma’s love hotel shows that shuichi is LITERALLY his ideal, and shuichi puts up with all these death threats and games throughout ouma’s ftes in an attempt to understand him-- the final fte is so sweet, how shuichi bandages his finger after he cuts himself.... pique chaotic dumbass energy but they’re adorable as hell.

and i’m sorry to say this, but in my opinion and as far as i can remember... oumota...... doesn’t have that. not once does either ouma or momota show anything but cool distaste for one another. momota PUNCHES OUMA IN THE FACE in chapter four, which is the first real time you see the two of them like.... interacting? (aside from kaito begrudgingly, secretly agreeing with kokichi about people watching the motive videos, but that’s not shipping fuel imo.) and it only gets worse from there. throughout chapter four kokichi goads kaito, trying to pick at his insecurities-- not to mention he tries to get closer to shuichi, someone who kaito has been very close to this entire time!!! he insists that shuichi investigate with him, rather than with kaito, and keeps egging him on throughout the entire trial, mocking him and praising shuichi, the like. and after the trial kokichi PUNCHES KAITO IN THE STOMACH!!! AND KAITO HAS A COUGHING FIT SO BAD HE FALLS TO HIS KNEES!!!!!!! WHAT THE FUCK!!! sorry i’m trying not to be akdljflk about this it just... gah. i dunno. ouma absolutely SLAUGHTERS kaito and shuichi’s relationship, deliberately picking at kaito’s insecurities in order to tear down the group as a whole, and i just... it rubs me the wrong way.

chapter five is even worse for me. i know it’s like the biggest shipping fuel people have for them, and i,,, i get it? it’s poetic, the villain and the hero, these two purple dudes who represent opposing ideals, in this scandalous romance behind the exisal or whatever. i just can’t with it, though.

let’s talk about what ouma does to kaito in chapter five :)

-he knocks him out with an exisal and takes him hostage -he sends all his friends (except maki, beautiful, erratic maki) into a DEPRESSION so that the audience will get bored and stop watching the killing game -sorry i already said this but he KIDNAPS KAITO!! HE KIDNAPS HIM!!!! AND TRAPS HIM IN THE EXISAL HANGAR!!!! -he forces kaito to be indebted to him by pretending to drink the antidote and then giving it to him -he THREATENS MAKI!! HE THREATENS HER LIFE!!! IF KOKICHI DIES MAKI WILL BE EXECUTED AS THE BLACKENED AND KAITO KNOWS THIS!!!! i don’t care if you ship momoharu those two had A relationship regardless of whether you saw it was romantic or platonic and kaito cared about her??

he essentially held both maki and kaito hostage and BLACKMAILED kaito into going along with his plan. at the end of the chapter five trial kaito states that he went along with it because he thought it was brilliant, not because kokichi threatened maki, but i still just... it kind of horrifies me.

(i want to be perfectly clear that i LOVE kokichi ouma, he’s a brilliantly morally ambiguous character who did a bunch of fucked up things to try to achieve a noble cause and in no way is this me shitting on him, i’m just saying that given the things kokichi did to kaito i just, can’t get behind it.)

i should also address that even after kokichi did all that, even started BREAKING DOWN in the exisal hangar, kaito maintained that kokichi was a bastard who was difficult to understand. kokichi was being perfectly clear about his intentions. he wanted to end the killing games. i don’t think he ever wanted anything else, in the game. after all of that, for some reason, kaito still just didn’t get it. and i don’t think it’s because kaito is stupid-- kaito is NOT stupid, as funny as the memes are-- i just think that he was genuinely unwilling to try to understand kokichi ouma. he was sympathetic towards a lot of people. shuichi and maki and kaede and gonta and all of them. but he just, he didn’t like ouma. and i feel as though (this is just my speculation so don’t take this as anything real) kokichi never held anything towards kaito except resentment, either. because here’s this THICK DUMBASS who is ruining EVERYTHING that he’s trying to work towards-- not only that, but everyone absolutely adores him, the one thing that kokichi can not, no matter what, hope to achieve. because in order for his plan to work, he needs them to hate him.

all this is canon-compliant, though. i think ouma would’ve been a lot more mild in a non-despair au. i still don’t like the pairing in any aus though, regardless. i just don’t feel like they have the right kind of chemistry. ouma is, he’s like, he’s childish! he likes picking at people, trying to get reactions out of them. y’know who’s easy to get reactions out of? kaito. and not because he’s some funny stupid man, because he has CRIPPLINGLY LOW SELF ESTEEM. kaito is DEADASS afraid of ghosts and i know it’s a funny haha but he nearly shits himself whenever they’re so much as mentioned and ouma is the type of person who would just continue to bring them up to get the reaction out of him. it’s like shipping hiyoko and mikan, y’know? mikan gives hiyoko the reactions she wants and mikan takes it because she’s desperate for attention of any kind. they both feed into each other’s worst tendencies. kaito is easily challenged. all you have to do is imply he’s not a man and he’ll do whatever you want. that’s not HEALTHY!! and ouma would take advantage of it. not because he’s a bad person, but just because, he like,,, he messes around and he takes things too far because he’s a child and he hasn’t seen any real repercussions. that’s what i believe.

this is more of a petty, unrelated reason, but i also used to follow this really annoying oumota shipper who was constantly shoving the pairing down everyone’s throat and absolutely slaughtering kaito’s characterisation in the meantime. in a lot of fics i read before becoming actively against it, i saw ouma being a sniveling crybaby, totally unable to defend himself from anything, and kaito being this callous asshole who was mean to everyone but ouma. i just, i don’t see it? and then maki is always portrayed as so abusive, threatening and hurting ouma all over the place because kaito likes him and not her and shuichi is borderline obsessive if not outright creepy, either jealous of kaito or kokichi because there’s no grey area with these people, and they just, they make shuichi and maki so unsupportive and mean and i just... i don’t like it, not at all. the fastest way to make me hate a thing is by vilifying my favourite characters.

sorry for the long answer, anon. i know i have followers who like oumota, and i respect you for it! it’s just a MAJOR squick for me and i try not to engage with it if i can avoid it! thanks for the question!

[cavitymagazine]

Haptic Narratives: The Absurdly R EA L Artifacts of Dale Brett / / / [part 2]

[D]: Lately though, most of my influence has come from other forms of media opposed to writing. I have found the more I write, the less I read – at least long form. Music, animated series/films - both Japanese anime and stuff like Adult Swim and internet culture - all of these things come through in my work.

[W]: Music.

[D]: Definitely music. I often try to write with a type of musical style I enjoy in mind. This is, believe it or not, one of the reasons I decided to re-commence writing fiction. I was sick and tired of googling combinations of "vaporwave + fiction + dream" or "shoegaze + literature + drugs" to try and find works that fit a certain aesthetic that did not exist. So why not create them myself? For instance, ambient and to a lesser extent dreampunk, would be the genres I was trying to build on in Faceless in Nippon. With Ultraviolet Torus it is no secret that it is my shoegaze project. As you know with our mall collaboration [cloud mall and maze/mall], this will be vaporwave-heavy in aesthetic and theme. I think these musical styles also take me right back to the original interests that I have garnered from literature: how to feel and express oneself in light of the consumerist dream, how to find meaning in the face of a constant blurring reality. I want to produce words that create a sensory experience. Words to touch your skin, words to make you see refracted colours, words to make you realise life sucks but it's all okay.

[W]: Aesthetics are important to me as well. The depth of the surface. The synthetic, simulacra. I suspect any "honest" portrayal of our day-to-day life, even a so-called "realist" presentation, would be sci-fi, at least in part. The kitchen-sink realism of today would include game realities and all sorts of "tropes" – or what one used to call tropes – of sci-fi. DeLillo’s White Noise is a big work for me, related to some of the consumerist themes. The three layers you refer to are impressive – you've put a lot of thought into where your work comes from, what it's shaped by. I've never thought in those terms really. Although "Pessoan cyberpunk nihilism" as a blurb would have me buying whatever that book is. Abe's The Box Man - I read that in I think 2015 or so. I see Abe's tone in some of your prose. That is a hard tone to tap. It's soft and dislocated. Requires a gentle hand, and a kind of amorphous thought process. In recent years I've taken influence more from video games and commercials and music than anything textual. I assumed your influences now were primarily visual. Graphic novels, anime, bad TV movies - I cull more from kitsch than I do from literature now. Would you tell me a bit about your time in Japan? And how would you describe Faceless in Nippon to a reader who knows literally nothing about it?

[W]: I relate very hard to your not being able to google, say, "vaporwave + dream + fiction" and get a hit. You had to create your hits. I feel the same way. It's like I want "Borges + USA Up All Night" or something similarly niche and not-quite-available-elsewhere. The established subgenres you mention, like dreampunk, are still these largely unexplored parks of the mind. There aren't a whole lot of titles. Do you view Faceless in Nippon as your first book and Ultraviolet Torus as a sophomore effort?

[W]: One aspect of your work that struck me right away is its sensory nature, and its desire to make complex emotions like melancholy or lostness more tangible or tactile.

[Ed.:  racetams with caffeine are ingested.]

[D]: I really like your description – “the depth of the surface.” This really fits what I’m trying to achieve with writing. I try to attain a certain sensory experience with abstract imagery, but endeavor to maintain a somewhat conventional narrative or “everyday” story underneath. For instance, Faceless in Nippon was always meant to mimic the feeling of floating in/on water, gently bobbing through society’s ambient capitalist waters attempting to find a purpose. This incorporeal imagery juxtaposed with the more straightforward vignette format and story arc of a young western male living abroad. With Ultraviolet Torus, the prose and format are more unconventional – it was designed to mimic gemstone/mineral structure and shoegaze music, with the narrative underpinning the imagery taking the form of the rise and fall of a standard relationship. I agree that even a “realist” presentation is somewhat sci-fi these days – it is unavoidable. Our friend, contemporary, and collaborator James Krendel-Clark and I have often spoken about how the only thing left for sci-fi is this almost meta-sci-fi angle, where all the tropes have become so cliché and ingrained that really any attempt at sincere “world building” is futile. It’s better to experiment in syntax and delve into what another contemporary of ours, Nick Greer, likes to call “hyper-genre”. Use the tropes, but explore them linguistically, see what they do for the reader sensorily, opposed to using them as the building blocks to create another mundane genre narrative. I have certainly done that in shorter form through the Concentric Circuits: CODA stuff on Surfaces. I think my sci-fi influence comes through in both Faceless in Nippon and Ultraviolet Torus, certainly in the way that I frame the setting or landscape as a character almost, similar to how Ballard and Gibson craft their prose. I have had a lot of time to think about the aforementioned literary influences. I am slightly OCD too, so I often create these massive lists and Venn diagrams and shit of artists/works with certain styles and aesthetics that overlap. I do like to think of myself as a modern-day Walter Benjamin in the way I compile notes and lists and memories that form the basis of my artistic and existential exploration. I think Benjamin would have had a hell of a time with the notes app of a smart phone.

[D]: Regarding Kobo Abe, you are correct, certainly not an easy tone to master, and one that I definitely have not. My writing is not as sound as a master like Abe, which I think is why I subconsciously fall back on the sci-fi landscape syntax/prose mentioned above and the more colloquial twenty-first century alt-lit style to strive forward in my work. I am still developing though, and hopefully, opposed to just replicating Abe’s tone, one day I will be in a position where people are speaking about a tone entirely of my own that others will use as an influence. Abe is also a good segue into other forms of media that influence written work, as he has often been an inspiration to artist’s in the visual field such as filmmakers and video game creators. It is no secret that he is Hideo Kojima’s favorite author.

[D]: Since re-commencing my fiction-writing, which was at the beginning of 2019, you are accurate in your inference that I have primarily relied on other forms of media to influence my work. I have barely read any novels at all in the last couple of years comparative to the previous decade of reading. I garner much more from music, anime, and internet culture these days. I am glad you brought up the influence of commercials – I think we certainly share an avid interest in exploring the consumerist sphere and its effects on art and society. There are a number of important moments in Faceless in Nippon dealing with commercials, products, stores and their underrated aura. Hell, I even created fictional beverages and advertisements for the book.

[D]: My time in Japan was an incredibly formative experience for me. I really only returned to my home country, Australia, when my wife became pregnant. Otherwise I would probably still be there, cruising around upper-class malls, lower-class malls, drinking massive cans of Asahi on the train, staring at LED signs from concrete overpasses at night interminably. I certainly still yearn for my time there. I did go back to visit friends recently and it was a strange experience, like I could not re-create the feelings of my time there in the past no matter how hard I strived. It became apparent that my yearnings were purely for a time in my life while stationed there, opposed to the setting itself.

[D]: I would describe Faceless in Nippon as a meditative, aqueous travelogue on what it means to exist as a middle-class person in the twenty first century, the entirety of which is set in urban Japan.

[D]: I really admire artists that have an unmistakable aesthetic stamp on their work. Auteurship, if you will. For what it’s worth, I think you are one of the few that has a singular, univocal voice in the online “outsider” lit community or whatever you want to call it. I would like to think mine is the same. That people will read it and go, “Oh fuck, that’s Dale alright.” I have been told before that my work reads like MDMA. I am exceedingly happy with that comparison. I would be pleased if that was how I was known as an artist after my “career” or whatever you want to call it is over. Basically, I want to create things that are uniquely my own, things that have not been attempted before. Another reason I think that you and I gel well together as creatives is that despite our many differences in aesthetics, we are enamored by the depth of so-called low culture and continually mash it together with the supposed “high culture” of literature. 

The "Borges + USA Up All Night" example illustrates this perfectly.

[D]: Both Faceless in Nippon and Ultraviolet Torus will be available at similar times. However, there is no doubt that Faceless is my first book. It is the first thing I started working on when I didn’t know it was going to be what it became. Torus was a more experimental foray into the literary field. I compiled Torus, an exploration of gemstone and dream imagery, between drafts of Faceless. I was particularly taken by crystals, shoegaze, and giddiness over my interactions with some beautiful people on the internet at the time. It proved to be a fruitful break from Faceless rewrites, as not only did I let the novel marinate and become better before publishing it, I also gave birth to another creative treasure.

[D]: Making emotive words tactile, rendering the textually intangible tangible. This is something I want to see extended even further as we continue collaborating on our mall project. I want to delicately wrench the phaser knob on these effects and really see where we can go with our adventures in the literary sensorium.

[W]: I remember you saying you wanted Faceless in Nippon to "feel like floating in water." It made me think of a novel as a kind of sensory deprivation tank, the floating and the effects. Did you think of Ultraviolet Torus as a gem, in the abstract, or was the structuring of it more precisely gemlike? James [Krendel-Clark] and I wrote the rough draft of this Blanchot-bodyhorror, broken-videogame-reality novel called Cenotaph, and much of it deals with irrational spaces and Phildickian pulp. As far as sci-fi goes, the more subjective my take, the more "sci-fi" it seems to become. Just last night I drifted between three realities - one in which I was an unemployed writer living under Covid-19, one in which I destroyed an organic ship/braincraft with a cyber-tank, and another where I trained as a druid mage in a treacherous cursed desert. Of course these last two were games and that doesn't even entail any other branching realities that came about as well with regard to books, narratives, televisual influences, lies we tell ourselves, 5G brain-attacking waves, et al. It's late and I'm stoned and tired but yeah. Nick Greer is a fascinating individual. I didn't know you knew him. We spoke about set theory once. Gödel. I read very little, yeah. Or I should say I don't sit and read a physical book as often as I used to. I read rigorously for a good 20 years. If I'm awake enough to read, I usually would want to spend that time writing, or perhaps gaming. Or dreaming. All of these beats - the fictional beverages and ads and playing metafictionally with products and whatnot - I kind of live for that shit. I do that more and more. And it's not even a critique or any kind of satire of it for me - like the low-rez haze of 1-900 commercials was a fuzzy heaven in a box for me as a kid. The K-Mart cafeteria did possess a unique and strange power. I think we're kind of on the same page here as far as we share a kind of reverence for the artificial, the things rendered meaningless through mass production, and other similar slippery intangibles. There is a wonder here that sets it apart from, say, a satirical/scathing view of consumerist life. God, yeah, your experience in Japan. I think I've experienced similar stuff. I remember a time in 2000 when Boca Raton, Florida, was kind of magical for me. I went there a few years back; it's just any place now. Such a strange thing. And sad too. This is the only kind of interview I'd conduct, one with a writer whose work I think truly good. You might've remarked upon the melancholic allure of vending machines coding out at night. Or something similar. It's that sort of sentiment I recognized straightaway as what I consider tuned-in to a cryptic aesthetic I love. I was relieved to discover your wordcraft was honed – that's usually the big problem for me liking someone's work. One of the big draws for me about your work is the stuff you're able to do that I really dig but am not really suited to pull off myself, such as the MDMA vibe, or the ennui mixed with light, hope, etc. There are a dozen or so singular voices around in the online outsider-lit community/whatever, voices I'd consider distinctive: you, Clark, Elytron Frass, Durban Moffer – a few others.

[W]: Your themes I would say demand nuance and control. We've talked about how our mall project is slow-going because it seems very painstaking, almost like etching or surgery or something. Introspective, in any case. Although I just sort of dismissed reading a second ago, I do believe that a unique body of work is made unique by a dizzying variety of blendered influences. I had that 15-year stretch in the suffering cubes to read pretty much constantly, and haphazardly, as far as selection, in a lot of ways, so my influence map is like really fucking bizarre and extensive, which I think makes my stuff appear unique, when all that is unique about it probably is my little perspective or whatever subjectivity is injected into this array of eclectic influences.

[confrontingbabble-on]

So how did just one of the church’s baby stealing and selling for cash businesses work...? The church you attend...may have just been funded by the stealing and selling of babies...!

In just one example, and a clear reason why church and state should never be allowed to collaborate...”The Catholic Church Stole 300,000 Babies And Sold Them To The Highest Bidder  The Catholic Church is no stranger to scandal. They’ve attempted to systematically wipe out entire religions, and covered numerous sex crimes committed within their church, but one of the most unforgivable things the Catholic Church has ever done has been to take part in Spanish baby trafficking.

Throughout the 20th century the Spanish arm of the Catholic Church would steal newborn babies from their mothers and sell them to the highest bidder. Not only is this behavior absolutely abhorrent, it’s also in direct opposition to their faith. This Spanish child kidnapping rite, like so many Catholic Church crimes, proves that the people who rise to the highest places of power within organized religion care less about humanity...and are more about grabbing as much money and dominance as they possible can.

Even though victims Juan Luis Moreno and Antonio Barroso brought the issue to light in 2011, it wasn't until August 2018 that alleged perpetrators faced charges. Inés Madrigal, born in 1969 at San Ramon clinic in Madrid, claims a doctor kidnapped her and gave her away without her biological mother's permission. On August 14, 2018, her accused kidnapper, obstetrician Eduardo Vela, stood trial and denied the allegations, telling a three-judge panel that he "never gave a girl to anybody."

In 2012, Madrigal's adoptive mother (who passed in 2016) told CNN Vela gave her the baby.The judges charged Vela with the illegal detention of a minor and forging a public document. Prosecutors are pushing for an 11-year jail sentence. Vela still denies "stealing" Madrigal and is pursuing a full acquittal.

Over 2,000 people filed stolen children suits with prosecutors.

It All Began In Post-War Spain. Following the Spanish Civil War (1936-39) General Francisco Franco became the head of the rebel Nationalist government and commander-in-chief of the armed forces. Under his rule Spain became a hermit nation similar to that of modern day North Korea. Anyone who fought against the Nationalists during the war or who held opposing viewpoints were punished - this includes anyone who wanted to have a child. These people were known as "undesirables" and Franco believed that anyone with an opposing viewpoint or who lived beneath a specific wage line wasn't fit to raise a child.

The task of taking babies away from single mothers and families who didn't fit into Franco's idea of ideal citizens was given to a network of Catholic priests and nuns who did their jobs efficiently and without asking any questions.

The Church Stole The Babies Shortly After They Were Born.  Directly after childbirth many babies were whisked away under the guise of routine testing and later their mothers were told that the baby had died. One mother who experienced this first hand explained to the BBC that she fell for this trick because she had been raised to believe that the church was infallible and that they would have no reason to lie to her. "I couldn't accuse them of lying. This was Franco's Spain. A dictatorship. Even now we Spaniards tend not to question authority.

"Many of the mothers who asked to see their child after hearing that it had passed away claim that they were shown the corpse of a child who had been frozen, or that was freezing cold.

The Babies Were Sold To Well-To-Do Families.  After the newborns were stolen from their mothers most of them were immediately sold to couples who held beliefs more inline with Franco's totalitarian and Catholic regime. These families didn't just have the "right" set of core beliefs - they were also wealthy. Or at the very least they had enough money to buy a child in post World War II Spain. It's likely that the adoptive parents weren't aware that they were buying a child that had been stolen from its mother hours before, and many of the parents actually had their names placed on the child's birth certificate. Allegedly the families were either led to believe that the infant's mother had died in child birth or that the parents had given them up.

This Wasn't A Small Time Operation.  These kidnappings started directly after the end of the Spanish Civil War in 1939, continued through World War II, and didn't end until the early '90s. ..many people believe that this web of Catholic kidnapping accounted for 15% of the total adoptions that took place in Spain between 1960 and 1989.

The Catholic Church Was Selling Babies For A Long Time.  When Franco died in 1975 the church didn't rethink their position of rampant child theft, and they didn't rework the system that had caused so much pain. Instead, they dug in deeper into the social services system of Spain in an attempt to keep a stranglehold on the Spanish people. It wasn't until the late '80s that the scandal was blown open when Juan Luis Moreno discovered that he was one Spain's stolen babies. According to Moreno, the man who he knew as his father confessed on his deathbed that Moreno had been purchased from a priest in Northern Spain for 200,000 pesetas.

Priests Were Helping People Fake Pregnancies ...in many cases the church prepped parents for their child and helped them fake a pregnancy to keep friends and family from asking questions. Speaking to the BBC, an 89-year-old woman named Ines Perez admitted that a priest helped her work out a fake pregnancy before she received a baby girl in 1969. She said, "The priest gave me padding to wear on my stomach."

How To Sneak A Baby Out Of A Maternity Ward.  Even though the Catholic church was working in tandem with Spain's government it still shouldn't have been so easy to steal a bunch of babies. Many priests and nuns who carried out the thefts went through a ridiculous series of steps to ensure that they weren't caught. Priests and nuns would first falsify a birth certificate stating that the child had been born to the family who was paying for the baby, and then they would usually concoct a lie about why they were handing off such a small child before pushing the family out of the hospital - thus decreasing the risk of anyone being caught. One woman who received a baby from the Catholic church claims that she was told her adopted child was born premature, but that in reality it had probably just been born moments before. She claims that the doctor told her to put the baby in her car "between two hot water bottles."

The Payment Plan  In many cases even when a family could afford to buy a child they couldn't pay for it all up front so a payment plan was established. When Juan Luis Moreno's father confessed on his deathbed that Moreno had been purchased from a priest he realized that his annual family trips to Zaragoza weren't vacations - they were a contractual obligation. Moreno told the BBC that his adoptive father knew exactly what he was doing and that the church didn't even try to hide its scam. "My dad was given a choice: boy or girl. They put it bluntly: This was a market for babies." Moreno said that his adoptive father claims that the going price for a child at the time was twice the price of their family home.

No One Is Going To Get In Trouble For This  Despite believing that what they were doing was for the greater good of the Spanish people, General Franco and his regime knew it was wrong. After Franco's death a series of amnesty laws were passed so that any crimes that took place while he was in power would never be examined in a court of law. Some prosecutors have decided to look into the thefts on a case-by-case basis, but that's easier said than done. While there are some cases to go through, many children who were kidnapped and sold to families have decided not to come forward for fear their adoptive parents are seen as criminals. One person, a nun named Sister Maria Gomez, was brought to court for kidnapping but she refused to speak in court.

It's Almost Impossible To Prosecute This Insane Crime Aside from the lack of political will to prosecute for the crime, it is incredibly hard to prove in court the illegality of the case. A prosecutor in Madrid pointed out a few of the biggest issues with trying to prove wrongdoing in a case of systemic kidnapping. First, you can't pursue a criminal case over a false birth certificate because the crime has passed the statute of limitations. And as far as the Spanish criminal justice system goes a false birth certificate doesn't legally prove that a baby has been kidnapped. As it stands the Spanish Catholic church's history of child kidnapping will go unpunished.

The only thing that can be done is to remain vigilant against those in power...”

https://m.ranker.com/list/catholic-church-trafficked-stollen-babies-spain/jacob-shelton?ref=collections_btm&l=2479135&collectionId=2587

Also,  Video : Missionaries Of Charity Nun Confesses To Selling Babies...https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tyPLYksYI7Y

And,  Mother Teresa’s home shut for ‘selling babies’... https://www.theaustralian.com.au/nation/world/mother-teresas-home-shut-for-selling-babies/news-story/59ff8e04f1e7ef900f392189fb094d23

[racefortheironthrone]

Have you seen Captain Marvel? Thoughts?

thoughts on captain marvel?

Have you seen Captain Marvel?

Have you seen Captain Marvel yet?

Given all your great People’s History of Marvel stuff lately, I assume you’ve been asked already, but any Captain Marvel thoughts you can share?What did you think of Captain Marvel?

Ok, ok already, I’ll write the post!

Full Spoilers Below

I really liked it! As solo origin movies go, it was definitely one of the better ones; personally I’d put it up there with Doctor Strange in how it deals with bringing some big new ideas into the MCU, while having way higher expectations than that film ever did. (Also, I want to plug my colleague @elanabrooklyn‘s podcast episode about the film, which you should listen to while reading this.)

Things I Liked:

I thought the amnesia/false memories plot was a great way to wrong-foot the audience who’re used to superhero origin stories (the good guys are the bad guys, the bad guys are the good guys, Vers is Carol) which worked hand-in-glove with the film’s broader thesis about gender: that male dominated institutions are not just going to try to exclude or diminish you, but also gaslight you about who you are, what strength looks like, etc. to get you to comply. “What was given can be taken away”/”““Don’t let your emotions override your judgments.” are the key throughlines here, a great example of how the writers are taking worn-out Hero’s Journey tropes and flipping them on their head. 

I really liked the twist on Mar-Vell. It makes the origin story less of an accident and more of a choice, and I’m always in favor of more active protagonists; there’s really no reason why the Space Alien Defector from Decadence couldn’t be a female scientist instead of a male warrior; and it both honors the original (that no one really cared about, tbh) and surprises the hardestcore of fans. Also having the light speed engine be the Tesseract is a good way to incorporate Captain Marvel into the broader MCU without needing to explain a brand-new source of wibbley-wobbly. 

The war metaphor. There was a lot of handwringing before the film about Captain Marvel being pro-military propaganda, because of the Air Force deal that had been worked out. As I suspected going in, the film is a very sneaky subversion of that, with the Kree Starforce being a very clear stand-in for the U.S. Military. The surface level analogy is that the Kree Starforce is a male-dominated institution that tries to gaslight and prevent Carol from reaching her true potential just like the Air Force tried to do, but it goes deeper than that. The whole first act of the film sets up the Starforce as Seal Team Six equivalents - a highly-trained special forces group, fighting an enemy explicitly described as terrorists, but trying to do it in an efficient/precise way that makes them the good guys as opposed to Ronan’s carpet-bombing Accusers - which is a narrative we’ve been conditioned to accept since 9/11 through films like the Hurt Locker/Green Zone/Zero Dark Thirty/etc. However, the second and third acts reveal that’s total bullshit. The Starforce try to kill civilians, do kill their own people to get their hands on military intelligence, and are perfectly happy to carry out the Supreme Intelligence’s imperialist total war, and their supposed commitment to precision and avoiding collateral damage goes out the window the moment it’s the least bit inconvenient. 

Seeing Carol Danvers in the Jamie McKelvie suit - fauxhawk and all - blow through an alien warfleet whooping with joy made me ferklempt a little. I think that moment will only grow with time as something on par with the first time that Iron Man does the superhero landing or “I’m always angry” as genuinely worthy of the term iconic. 

EDIT: Forgot about Goose. Cute, funny, and instantly wins over the cat-lovers in the audience. I imagine the dog-lovers out there will want a much bigger role for Cosmo in Guardians 3...

Things That Surprised Me

I was genuinely surprised at how good the de-aging CGI has gotten. Coulson looked slightly waxy, but there was a real performance in Samuel L. Jackson playing not just a younger Nick Fury but a younger Nick Fury who is very specifically Samuel L. Jackson in the Long Kiss Goodnight. I have no idea what this means for the future; are we going to see the original Avengers forever, just with more and more de-aging GCI slapped on them? If only for salary and contract reasons, I doubt it’ll go beyond the realm of cameos and secondary performances, but it’s a nice way to try to maintain continuity as the MCU ages into its second decade.

The Skrulls. I had thought that the anti-war message was going to be more of a Kree-Skrull War plague-on-both-your-houses thing, but turning the Skrulls into the equivalent of Syrian refugees totally blindsided me. It’s an incredibly gutsy move, and I’ll echo what @giveamadeuschohisownmovie said about the brilliant bit of culture-jamming that is casting it-bad-guy Ben Mendelsohn as “the lead villain” and Jude Law as “the wise mentor,” judo-flipping audiences with our own expectations about recent films, the hero’s journey, and how we should feel about aliens who look like the Skrulls and aliens who look like us. That being said, part of the reason why it’s a gutsy move is that it precludes a lot of possible stories: I don’t think you could do a Kree-Skrull war, or a Secret Invasion movie, or a Super-Skrull movie after this, given the way that the film deconstructed the entire notion of Skrulls-as-heel-species. 

Things I Could Have Used Even More Of:

While I totally understand the pacing reasons why they didn’t do this, I kind of wish there had been more time to do some road-trip banter between Nick Fury and Carol; give Nick a chance to introduce the alien to 90s music and fast food, crack some meta jokes about Pulp Fiction, etc.

I also could have used some more banter with the rest of the Kree team. I think some stuff got cut here, because there’s definitely some shots from trailers of the team walking down a hallway and staring down Ronan coming the other way that didn’t make it into the film. As a result, Carol’s team turning on her and her fighting back doesn’t have as much emotional weight.

Finally, and this is a really small nit-pick, but a bit more budget spent on the CGI during the Supreme Intelligence scenes would have gone a long way. Annette Benning’s dual performance was so good that the slightly dodgy mirror tendril stuff stood out in a negative way. Or just don’t do the mirror tendril stuff and double-down on the memory-warping or dueling beams stuff, which worked much better. 

[ryouverua]

Trial 6 - Flashfiction (4)

FLIP THAT CHESSBOARD, SWEETCHEEKS!

Trial: 1 / 2 / 3

it’s what kokichi would have wanted

DRV3 HOW DARE YOU HOLD OUT ON THE CUTEST DAMN TSUMUGI SPRITE OF THE ENTIRE GAME

how can mirrors be real if our eyes aren’t real

And we found it in Kokichi’s lab of all places. Why? Had he been able to get access to it ater all? Why was it just lying there so awkwardly - not hidden or neatly put away at all, but just tossed on the floor like an afterthought?

...... thinks about the state of Kokichi’s dorm room

yeah the chance that he left it on the floor like a bored 12 year old or me is not 0%

Wait.... is there??? The only one that stands out to me is the method of applying vs being scouted...

So we go over the events again, or as the game would probably put it, comb over The Longest, Most Ridiculous, Most Despairing Backstory to look for discrepancies.

Don’t look so pleased with yourself!

YES THANK YOU SHUICHI THANK YOU FOR STOPPING HER BEFORE SHE GOT STARTED AGAIN

It.... it doesn’t???

as;dflksdjf

U-Uuuuh Monokuma??? Are you just allowed to namedrop the title like that???

A-Anyway, this one was sort of vague - not sure if the game did too good a job of hiding it or not, but I certainly didn’t clue into this immediately because, well, I’d argue that Junko was ultimately the cause of this? And she was the original Ultimate Despair, even if Mukuro got roped into it with her? This felt a bit like being at a multiple choice exam where there are a few answers that are sort of right but not exactly right and then I cry

AND MUKURO!!! I WILL NOT STAND FOR THIS MUKURO ERASURE, DAMN IT!!! can you tell she was one of my favourites in the first game if not my favourite

“And that’s why, even though you are technically right, you are also wrong, and therefore will not get any points for your answer to this question.” sweetcheeks you sonuvab -

despite the mukuro erasure, consider me team maki

“Can it, nerd.”

It would have been really nice to have Maki in the first game.

We really are going over this piece by piece.

Okay, so now we’re reviewing the first game. They were forced to kill each other, then Junko was found out and killed herself in the end, which led to the eventual end of the Despair side....

Shuichi is clearly onto something that I haven’t quite latched onto yet. 8′D

This makes me think of how cool it would have been to have this text style in the previous games. Have I mentioned enough about how much I like the typography in drv3? Because I don’t know if that’s possible.

OOOH that’s right - I forgot! Or, well, I didn’t forget, but it didn’t really occur to me that we were remembering that they were literally trapped in the school by Ultimate Despair, I guess.

I guess the gist of it is that they’re remembering - well, not witnessing the events, but being told things were one way vs another. They would have been too young to have been alive at the time though, right? It seems to me that, though the game clearly wants us to take it a different way, we can also interpret this as them just being told the wrong thing within the memories themselves as opposed to the actual memories being entirely falsified. What if the reports at the time or the commonly-known story was that they had been locked in by Ultimate Despair, and it’s only the properly researched books like this that have the correct accounts? It’s not exactly an uncommon phenomenon for there to be widely-held mistaken knowledge/generalizations of famous events, unfortunately... 8′D

Anyway, I’m getting distracted because like I said, this is really not the angle the game is going with at all.

BULLSHIT

AND ALSO

WHY WOULD A BOOK EXIST THAT DIRECTLY CONTRADICTS THE MEMORIES YOU GAVE THEM

LIKE

WHY DOES IT EVEN EXIST IN THIS PLACE AT ALL

I’m seriously fixated on this book!

also

I love Shuichi just casually ignoring Junko!Tsumugi lmao

I’m calling her Junko!Tsumugi I refuse to call her Tsumugi!Junko I REFUSE TO GIVE UP ON TSUMUGI’S AUTONOMY

This.... this one has to be it, right? This was the one thing I remember getting really confused by when they talked about applying! In fact, I had thought the whole reason Shuichi was considered the Ultimate Detective was because of the homicide case and if that resulted in him being at Hope’s Peak, it was because word of that had traveled - but then if it was an application, that means either his parents or his uncle would have applied on his behalf, right?

this was a detail I remember remarking on and loving btw I got really sad when in Chapter 5 it started looking like they were all in the same class

I think more than the others, this is the big one. All that other stuff can be attributed to mistaken hearsay - but this? This is something they would have ‘directly experienced’.

Oh apparently he chose to come... despite feeling awkward about his title.

I wonder if he was pressured into it by his family....?

Or, uh. Let me correct myself. I wonder if, in this mistaken memory, he remembers being pressured into it by his family?

I-I feel like I would trust the book over you guys especially considering the whole ‘we remembered Kokichi Ouma as a Remnant of Despair and got him killed as the fake mastermind’ situation tbh.

well technically ultra despair girls is

That is a good point. I mean, it could quite possibly happen underground, but I suppose the same could be said of the Jabberwock Island one - there’s no reason that should be public knowledge.

“I mean, I know it’s nothing new, but bear with me here.”

H A L L E L U J A H

REALLY

REALLY

MAKI, REALLY

YOU OF ALL PEOPLE SHOULD KNOW BETTER

FUFCKFUCKING HELL GUYS YOU’RE KILLING ME HERE

sdfkdslfj fukging

noOOONONO

aND YOU! YOU SHUT UP TOO!!!!

“Also have you seen their outfits? Do you realize how terribly they would clash? ‘Oh Saihara, why would that matter what do uniforms have to do with anything surely Kokichi and his uniformed clown posse could just be a branch under the Remnants’ NO THAT WILL NOT FLY WHEN THE HEAD OF THE ENTIRE ORGANIZATION LITERALLY DOUBLES AS THE ULTIMATE FASHIONISTA!!!”

this level of reasoning is possible for saihara shuichi

.... what do you think, everyone?

And he still has the Supreme Leader title, even if these aren’t really their talents... there has to be something to that, right?

Shu -

Shuichi

The words DICE were written in big words over his giant hella awesome throne

He has a checkered scarf which brings about a certain ‘game’ feeling

he literally challenged you to card games

I’m.... I’m just gonna throw it out there, but there’s a pretty good chance the group he led was called ‘DICE’.

YOU SAW THE VIDEO YOU SAW IT DAMN YOU MAKI I KNOW YOU’RE BETTER THAN THIS YOU ARE SMARTER THAN THIS!!!!

“Maki also said he literally said he didn’t know what she was talking about when she interrogated him with a crossbow literally aimed directly at him but surely that’s unrelated -”

s o b s

I 100% bet Tsumugi was not counting on them finding this room. So.... beginning the trial, she tried to do a Kaede/Kaede’s twin mastermind thing. Then she switched tactics to being solely ‘Junko’ and her lackey Kokichi setting up the game with the last survivors of humanity as... revenge for Hope’s Peak, I guess? Or something.

So where are we going from here? Are we about to discover this was all a simulated scenario then?

Sort of like they’re trying to test different outcomes and scenarios - with different talents, maybe? Is there the selected 16 (15? 14?) talents that can be switched around at will, or is there a larger database of students’ talents? That’s what I really want to know.

But “there are an endless possibilities for lies,” a certain person may say.

why are you all ganging up on me also how when two of you are literally the same person and the other one is an AI acting as an extension of you -

It sort of hit me but this is a weird echo of Korekiyo’s trial, with Junko and Tsumugi switching back and forth with each other the way Korekiyo and his sister did. I wonder if there’s something to that, or if it says something about Tsumugi in general...

(one hangman’s gambit later...)

TALENTS ARE NOT THEIRS AND POSSIBLY ARBITRARY CONFIRMED

I WOULD KILL FOR KOKICHI TO POP OUT OF THE GRAVE TO SHOUT IT’S A LIE RIGHT NOW

FUCK YOU BEAR

ghggkhgkh

that is a dangerous precedent to set

But you weren’t planning on revealing this, right??? Right???? Your hand was totally forced! Don’t play this off like it wasn’t!

I swear I had a similar idea when I was coming up with how they could see themselves in photos/pictures if the students weren’t actually who they thought they were - about how their brain filled in the gaps and placed their own faces where they’d expect to see them (like in the funeral scene with the portraits, etc). Glad to know I was kinda right on that regard!

I really like it when they combine Junko and Tsumugi here. There’s probably something to that - when it’s Tsumugi herself acting as the mastermind, as opposed to just being ‘Junko’.

T-Those are some pretty big inconsistencies though? Why would there be incorrect options in those flashback lights in the first place? What was there to gain for their being options where ‘Ultimate Despair trapped the first class in’ and ‘Junko is the end-all of Ultimate Despair’? At least Kokichi’s made sense to have on standby, but the other stuff? Isn’t their existence a bit weird?

It’s... nice to see Shuichi focusing on Kokichi. Being posthumous and all it’s a bit late, but it’s still nice - especially after all that talk of ‘not understanding him’ and ‘the embodiment of a lie’, having him finally clue in to Kokichi’s real place in all of this - a victim of the mastermind - is good. It’s the perfect example of ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend’ and Kaito figured that out last chapter, so it’s long past due for Shuichi to drag himself and everyone else to that conclusion, kicking and screaming if he must.

(he was jealous of Angie)

because he was trying to stop the game!!!!!

Which, honestly, was pretty clever on her part. I think overall Kokichi will come out of this looking the best - he had so little going for him and almost succeeded in his coup - but the fact that Tsumugi was able to counter his surprise attack still says a lot about her own intelligence and her ability to adapt, because in that moment she also had limited options.

THANK

YOU

LORD

WE HAVE GATHERED HERE TODAY TO SAY FAREWELL TO REMNANT!OUMA THEORY

REST IN PIECES AND NEVER COME BACK

Pretty damn successfully, too.

While the fact that her first inclination was to straight-up murder Kokichi was very Not Good, it’s at least good to know that it took the extra nudge of the flashback lights to push her over the precipice. Basically, it took turning Kokichi into a complete monster in her eyes - Despair with a capital D - to strip away his humanity entirely. I do wonder if she still would’ve staged a rescue mission of sorts to rescue Kaito? For that matter, I wonder if Kaito had been on the outside (with the Flashback Light used on him and everything) and it was someone else being held hostage like Shuichi, would he have been able to talk Maki down?

It’s interesting how they’re turning hope itself into a weapon here. I think Junko talked about this in the first game, the idea of giving hope out to maximize despair, so it’s not the first time the mastermind has actively used hope as a weapon - but it’s never felt quite as dirty as it does here.

!!! We’re seeing her as herself in the room!!! I guess it’s the flashback light classroom, but still!

That is so unfair considering they were all being threatened with death, you were straight up messing with their brains and also that airlock exists??? And they straight-up collapsed after being exposed to the outside??? I’m 

I think Shuichi managed to break away from that a bit at the end... maybe. He seems more motivated by righting the wrong in Kaede’s case at this point, and of avenging everyone who died - but the same can’t be said of the others.

Man I even wondered what it would be like without Kaito and Kokichi there considering they’ve been the strongest ‘movers’ on both sides - and the answer ended up being ‘I’ll give you artificial motivation to act’.

SHE’S.... REALLY A KILLING GAME FAN GIRL AFTER ALL..........

Oh, this does feel dirty. She’s lusting after them in an abstract way - like pieces on a chessboard. Kokichi was able to compartmentalize and make people take certain actions to an extent, but even he had attachments that he wasn’t able to shake. I knew it felt like she had managed to keep herself from getting too close to them, with the sole exception of the protectiveness she felt for Gonta (which?? I want to know if we’ll hear anything about that specifically???) but this is... wow.

Actually, this is very Komaeda-esque isn’t it? She wants to see them succeed in their battles against each other in a similar way...

Junko only gets that look when she’s actually mad. So if Tsumugi is sporting that... well, she must be smarting a bit underneath all the gloating she’s doing. She was happily spouting off ‘hints’ before, right?

Oh??

me too tbh

OH THE TURNABOUT MUSIC IS HERE

THAT TRANSITION WAS SO GOOD AND SMART WHAT A GREAT WAY TO USE THE PORTRAIT STAND

oooh! OOOOH! OH WHAT A FANTASTIC POINT!

SHUICHI MY BOY YOU’RE ON A ROLL NOW! GET HYPED GET HYPED GET HYP -

AAAAAAAAAAH

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

hajimemed

[mehlsbells]

Succession has all the hallmarks of HBO Prestige Television: big names, stunning production design, Shakespeare out the wazoo. It crosses the line as much in its shooting as its characters cross it morally, and just as often for kicks; see Episode 1.04 “Sad Sack Wasp Trap” (video for educational purposes):

I did a more detailed breakdown of a line cross (or breaking the 180 rule) in another post. Doctor Who is shot in a little more of a traditional style, whereas Succession goes the Friday Night Lights route of playing everything as a fly-on-the-wall narrative, with a floating camera giving it a bit of a documentary or reality show sans interviews. This feel also means casual blocking and line crosses are more common, but the way Roman and Kendall are juxtaposed here makes it feel quite intentional.

:00 Roman comes in Camera Right, and approaches Kendall Camera L. The next few cuts change from a wider to a slightly closer shot, with the off-camera actor somewhat dirtying the frame, while otherwise keeping their positioning the same.

:20 Kendall stands up and walks around his desk, but though he is briefly aligned with Roman, they maintain their respective R / L positioning, as does the next cut at :24.

:29 We cut from a single of Kendall Camera Left to a single of Roman Camera Left.

:31 Back to Kendall, who is Camera Left, and Roman still dominating R side of frame.

:33 Back to Roman Camera Left, similar to the shot at :29 but now with Kendall still in frame. This is the most jarring cut, because we go from a shot with both actors clearly in the frame, directly to a similarly framed shot where actors have ‘switched sides.’

:42 A single on Kendall, who now remains where he’d be repositioned, Camera R

:44 A single on Roman, who now remains where he’d be repositioned, Camera L

This is a short and sweet sample, but Succession does things like this constantly, not only in large crowd scenes where the moving camera and ensemble nature means crosses go mostly unnoticed.

For example, see Ep 2.07 “Return”. The scene where Shiv and Roman wheedle their mother at the dinner table moves the camera all over the place, with seven anchor points and a dozen shot sizes (more on this later) and no traditional ‘move right to left during a shot to reset the line.’ Does director Becky Martin do it because it feels otherwise a scene of three people sitting and chatting around a table – as opposed to twenty people at a n opulent party or three circling each other in a board room – would be less dynamic? Does she do it to represent how the verbal tug-of-war keeps shifting the power dynamic? Or is it to keep the audience off-balance with each character’s blunt attempt to knock each other off-keel? Maybe all of the above.

To demonstrate: fun with diagram! Shot numbers start at 1 as Caroline walks into the dining room with the pigeon, and ignores the two INT: KITCHEN shots of her getting more wine. Some of the cameras are clearly different takes/lenses for wides and closeups, but I labelled them the same due to essentially similar setups & angles; for example, the positioning in C CAM shot 3 of the table and shot 6 of Shiv’s closeup are similar angles with Shiv on the left, so same camera in the diagram for sake of simplicity.

It’s a 3:52 scene with 63 cuts (65 with Caroline’s kitchen forays).  Nearly every shot is on an angle, with a wide mix of CU and M shots, some clean some dirty, a couple even moving. It’s much more complex than the classic Gilmore Girls Friday night dinner setup, which is essentially four people around a table, camera in the middle, clean mostly-centered MS of each participant.

As the conversation escalates, more cameras get added to the mix, which also means we have fewer instances of going from Camera A to Camera B and right back to A. Because the camera is roving, we may be in a medium in 39, cut back to the same camera for 41 and we’re in a closeup. We are as constantly off-balance as Roman and Shiv.

Not always but often, the camera uses eye movement or head turns to initiate a cut to the character who is being looked at. (Shot 44, below; Shiv glances to Roman, narrows her eyes, then we cut to him.) Attempting to keep this flow with this many cameras can be a nightmare for editors, as changing one cut late in the edit is like knocking over a random domino in a line you spent three days constructing.

Just to up the degree of difficulty they throw in some rack focuses (:06 and :09 below).

My favourite cut may be shot 29 to shot 30 repositions Shiv from far right to left, demonstrating her considering Caroline’s offer while trying to play both sides:

  The key to breaking the rules is knowing them, and clearly Succession‘s directors know the rules. “Return” breaks them far more egregiously and over a longer time. But it’s the more egregious breaking I love more. Not only because it makes it clear it’s intentional (“Sad Sack Wasp Trap”‘s scene could have been a simple mistake lucked into, while “Return”‘s had to be painstakingly plotted) but because it feels better.

That’s a lot of me, my gut, and my aesthetic preferences. I can attempt quantification, of course: “Return” works better because we have the central dinner table to ‘ground’ us, while there is no similar feature in Kendall’s office; for the most part in “Return” the participants are seated and framed at about eye level, whereas Logan and Kendall are moving and the shots from similar positions constantly change heights as well as angles and sizes; “Return” is more conscientious about when it keeps characters on the same side of the frame for each camera, but then again they’re seated so it’s easier; etc etc.

But in the end, sometimes directing is more about gut feeling than rules and technique.

Stray Observations

– I’d be remiss not to note this has the freedom to work because the actors are firing on all cylinders: from Strong’s and Snook’s body language to Walter’s clipped calculating cadence to Culkin’s playing Roman as perfe bad at lying to his mother.

– It doesn’t hurt that “Return”‘s dinner scene also eschews the in-my-opinion-wildly-overused Succession favourite of using punch-ins to accentuate when a character has said or realised something devious or important.

– In regards to the punch-ins particularly and the shooting overall, the 1ACs are phenomenal at their jobs; just see the moment in “Tern Haven” where you see chef Rosa’s withering look right as the focus pulls to her from her overbearing employer, and realise they did it on purpose.

Shooting, Editing, and Crossing the Line on HBO's #Succession Succession has all the hallmarks of HBO Prestige Television: big names, stunning production design, Shakespeare out the wazoo.