#Capsule Inserter

[mollywog]

My wild theory is that Sunrise on the Reaping will be told from the perspective of the District 1 mentor of the tribute killed by the forcefield ‘stunt’. Someone who saw all the unedited footage real time and then the editing and ‘spin’ after the fact.

[lesbaben]

i have got to get over my inability to take capsules i have got to get back on my adhd meds its dire

[ghostieking]

there are days on which i step on this site and, despite the layout changes, it feels likes I am in 2014 again

[fizzyboy]

Son of a- I haven't explained this shit at all.

Ok, so basically. There are ichor deposits around a building. Those big freaking machines. You don't just fill them up to progress, you fill them up so you siphon ichor out them and put them into capsules for later use.

The capsules themselves can be inserted into small machines and openings for temporary fuel. Since these typically need to be replaced regularly and nobody has been doing it, the toons have to find the machines to progress as usually.

However, it's NOT required to find all of them. They can find enough to fuel what they need and move on, OR they find more to save the ichor for later use.

[cimoris]

- ⚜︎ Our Youngest ⚜︎ -

A Cookie Run Kingdom Reader Insert Fanfiction

==============================================

Relationship: Child!Reader & Parent!Shadow Milk Cookie, Sibling!Reader & Sibling!Black Sapphire Cookie, Sibling!Candy Apple Cookie & Sibling!Reader

Summary: Shadow Milk Cookie's latest masterpiece, a child.

Series/AU: Chasing Home

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[Masterlist]

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“Tadaa!!!” The Fount of Knowledge, with a puffed-up chest, waved his staff at the object. “Behold, yet another one of my masterpieces!”

Y/n blinked as she stared at the floating object on her father’s desk. An apple, larger than the usual one they ate, swayed within a bubble of magic. It glistened underneath the natural skylight with fresh syrup dribbling on its edges. In the middle of the fruit was a blue closed eye.

“And… what exactly is this?” Black Sapphire Cookie asked with a tilted head. He leaned his weight against his staff, staring incredulously at his father’s so-called masterpiece. Y/n turned her attention to her brother, waiting for their father to answer.

“Ah! A terrific question! Thank you for your eager participation, dear child of mine!” Shadow Milk Cookie twisted his way from the front of the desk to behind it, hovering his hand lovingly over the giant fruit. “This, my dear audience, is a cookie!”

Y/n and Black Sapphire Cookie blinked and glanced at each other before facing their father with an equal amount of ridicule in their eyes–their father had been lacking sleep for the last few weeks, and it seemed to have finally messed up his brain.

“Of course, grandpa. Now, let’s get you some rest–”

“Shush!” Shadow Milk Cookie huffed and crossed his arms, floating over to the siblings with a pout. “I see your distrust. And I understand that as a fellow scholar. But, would it hurt you to trust your old man just a little more?”

Y/n smiled sweetly and avoided her father’s gaze. Black Sapphire Cookie stared back with a grimace. 

With a gasp and a dramatic flair, Shadow Milk twisted in the air of his study and landed behind the desk. “I cannot believe I had raised such unfilial children! The pain, the hurt! My heart as a parent is broken!”

Y/n watched the familiar ordeal with half-lidded eyes. If she were a little less behaved, she would have rolled her eyes just as Black Sapphire Cookie did. Black Sapphire Cookie sighed and rubbed his temple. 

“Can you please just tell us what it is exactly?”

The Fount grinned–sharp-toothed and warm–before hovering over the apple again. Blue hands gently reached toward the apple. The magic that protects the apple bends and makes way for its creator, allowing him to touch its surface. 

“As I said before, this is a cookie. They are still developing within this capsule… it will take another 9 to 12 months before they’re ready.” Shadow Milk Cookie’s eyes softened as he continued his affectionate touches. “They will be a glorious little creature, beautiful and shiny like this apple. Another member of the family.”

Y/n tilted her head. “Another member?”

Shadow Milk snapped his head to the other siblings, grinning. “Yes! A new little sibling! I noticed that the two of you are getting a little lonely. So, why not spice up our life with a cute little one?”

Y/n placed a hand under her chin, eyes wandering to the ceiling while her mind pondered the possibility of a new little sibling. Well, a younger sibling will be nice. They would be a fine replacement for Black Sapphire Cookie’s prank victim. Or even better, the new little sibling can be her partner in crime. 

If they are going to be a little brother, then maybe Y/n can introduce him to some of her favourite bugs. It would be nice to have somebody else than her father to share her interest with. Oh, the many beautiful things she can introduce them to–praying mantis, centipedes, arachnids, and many more.

If they are going to be a little sister, then no doubt that Y/n will spoil them rotten. Share her favourite sweets, her favourite clothes, and accessories… It will be nice to have another girl in the family. As much as she loves her father and her brother, they would never truly relate to her like a sister would. 

“A quick question, Shadow Milk.” Black Sapphire took a deep breath. He tucked his staff under his armpit before clapping his hands and pointing it at his father. “Why did you not make a newly baked cookie using… a natural way? Like the way the witches intended us to do?”

Shadow Milk Cookie rolled his eyes, waving his hands in a circular motion, “Pfft, and complicate things with romance and mortals? No, thank you!” Shadow Milk floated behind the two younger cookies and cradled them from behind, huddling them like a bird around their unborn sibling. “All I need is right here.”

.

.

The apple jostled in her grasp, cradled within loving hands as Y/n rushed through the Spire. From a distance, she could hear the shouts of angered cookies rushing to climb up the Spire. Their pitchforks clanged against marbled flooring, and their torch burned through silk tapestries. Nothing in this Spire will remain standing once those greedy, foolish, idiotic, and blind cookies are satisfied. 

Nothing should be standing, but it will remain untouched. And in that object, Y/n bet all her cards on.

Y/n wiped her tears and smeared syrup all over her face, continuing her hurried steps toward her father’s study. Yes, she knew her father had told her to run with her little sister–oh, her sweet little sister that would never know how much Y/n and Shadow Milk Cookie loved her. But,..

There are too many of them. 

Too many angered cookies, too many pitchforks, and too many torches. 

All aimed at her. 

And the big red apple will only be a great target on her back. 

“At the very least, your brother will love you enough for both of us.” Y/n slammed her whole body through the wooden door, opening it just enough for her to slip in. “I know,” Y/n gasped, “I know he will. That’s just how your brother is.”

High on adrenaline, Y/n walked swiftly to her father’s desk, tearing the desk’s cabinet open. Her tired eyes lit up as she saw the familiar dark gem. One that shimmers within its confines with the overflowing magic only she, her brother, and her father could sense–the magic that belongs to the fallen Virtue of Knowledge. Y/n smiled and cradled the apple in her grasp tightly. 

“Dear sister, I might never have the chance to see you again, but I hope you know this.” Y/n kissed the top of the capsule, tasting the sweet syrup on its surface. “I love you. Your father loves you. Always and forever.” 

The young cookie crawled and touched the dark blue gem, summoning a small crystal-like dome that fits the capsule. Y/n gently placed the apple inside the dome and tried to ignore the impending doom of the crumbling spire. 

Her touch lingered on the apple, “Stay safe. May fate bring us together.” Y/n let go and watched as the dome sealed her sister in its protective embrace. “If … fate ever favour us again.”

With that final whisper, Y/n closed the cabinet and left the study. 

And she ran, and ran, and ran, leaving the apple of her eye behind. 

.

.

Black Sapphire Cookie slammed through the door, coughing from the ashes that lingered in the air. His purple eyes scanned the empty room, swiftly glancing from left to right, up and down, then back to left and right. With increasing desperation, the cookie grasped his staff tightly, then left the empty room. 

His stepped echoed through the empty hallways, covered in soot and lingering resentment of the mob. Remains of tapestries littered on the ground along with the memories woven into them–and the sight made him wish to drop down and cry, despite him never shedding any tears over the last decades and a half of his life. But he could not cry, not just yet.

Not until Black Sapphire Cookie searched through this Spire. Searched through the crumbling buildings' nooks and secret places. 

Not until he truly confirmed that his sisters were not in the building. His father was imprisoned within silver roots already.

Gritting his teeth, Black Sapphire aimed his staff at the final door and blasted the burned-down wood with a great show of firepower. He huffed and walked into the room, one that used to be his father’s study. 

Again, it was void of life. 

Black Sapphire Cookie stood in the middle of the room, breathing heavily as he took in the smell of burnt wood and papers. Black mist seeped through his footings, spreading over the small study. In that moment of numbness, Black Sapphire Cookie closed his eyes. 

He could see the figure of his father sitting in his study, with a cup of warm Butterfly Pea Tea on his side. Its subtle floral scent brought a smile to Black Sapphire’s face as he walked in through the door, Y/n following close behind. His father, eyes warm and full of glee at their presence, grinned and abandoned his paperwork to attend to his dear children. 

And they would chat in the sunlit study, talking about everything from the stupid things to the greatest things. 

A family of scholars. Of geniuses. 

Their family.

Black Sapphire Cookie opened his eyes to dark rooms and ashes. 

He gritted his teeth, raised his staff, and slammed it onto his spreading pool of magic, summoning a mighty force of hurricanes. Bookshelves, desks, papers, and curtains–all ripped and shredded away. And when Black Sapphire Cookie’s mind cleared of the storm of emotions, the room no longer resembled the study he remembered.

“Aha..hah…,” Black Sapphire Cookie crumbled to his knees, still clutching his staff tightly onto the burnt marbles. “Haha… hah…” He laughed in tears, visions blurring from the anguish that leaked from his eyes. 

“Cursed the witches…” Black Sapphire clutched on the staff tightlly, not noticing how it begans to change following the shapes of his corrupting heart. “curse their desires…their powers… swines, hoes, whores, bitches, curse them ALL!”

And as he was about to continue cursing Earthbread and their witches, a flicker of light caught the corner of his eyes. He blinked away his tears, wiping them, before glancing at the shine again. 

Within the rubble of destruction, a small light flickered through cracks. Pulsing like heartbeats of a living being. It took a moment longer before Black Sapphire Cookie sensed the faint magic that the light emitted. 

Familiar magic. 

Like one of his father’s.

.

.

Staff abandoned in the middle of the room, Black Sapphire rushed to the flickering light. Crawling on scratched knees and cut hands, he reached the mounds of jagged marbles. Ignoring his wounded hands, Black Sapphire Cookie began moving aside rubble and splintered wood. And when he finally saw the object, he laughed. 

“Y/n… you…swine.” He grinned with tears dribbling from his eyes as he reached to cradle the apple within the flickering dome. “You smart swine… why would you do this…” 

The apple looked exactly as it was the last time he saw it. Unschated and pristine. The one thing that remains clear on the remains of their home. The only thing that was untouched by the greed of those foolish cookies. 

“Ah, dear little sister… I am so sorry you have to see your older brother like that…” Black Sapphire Cookie brought the apple closer to his chest, kissing it and tasting its sweet syrup. “You must’ve been so scared… Our youngest sister… It’s alright now…”

Black Sapphire Cookie curled around the apple. The only bright thing in this gloomy world. 

“I’m here. Big brother is here.”

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A/n: And here is another instance of the series! Hope you all enjoy it!

And yeah, Shadow Milk Cookie makes his children using magic and science, like creating a homunculus. So no, no canon lovers. At least not for now~

[edwardshundredyearoldspunk]

keep seeing people say we don't "need" a new adaptation of [insert beloved classic novel] because [insert adaptation loved by fans, likely from the 90s/00s] already did it perfectly and I gotta say I vehemently disagree. I think we should never stop making adaptations of beloved classic novels because adaptations of beloved classic novels serve as a time capsule for the culture of the time of the adaptation. what did the people involved deem worthy of heightening, what did they ignore from the original text, what themes did they make more or less overt? all these are things that can tell us something about the zeitgeist of the time, and I think that's actually worth sometimes getting something like netflix persuasion, un-fucking-fortunately.

[fuqnia]

kenny x gender neutral reader

reader is having a panic attack from sensory overload (bright lights, loud noises, ect), kenny takes off his parka and puts it on them and it acts as a weighted blanket and then he comforts them and calms them down

No worries if you can’t do this request :)

Wrapped in Orange

kenny mccormick x reader insert

☆ A/N | the best way to end the year is writing for kenny... i love him so much 😭 tysm for this request, i hope i didn't butcher anything! ❤️this was also an excuse to write crimson dawn hehe <3

☆ C/W | panic attacks, sensory overload

The South Park Fall Festival was in full swing, buzzing with the kind of energy that could only exist on a crisp autumn evening. Warm string lights zigzagged overhead, draping the bustling square in a golden glow. The air was thick with the scent of caramel apples, roasted nuts, and cinnamon-spiced cider, mingling with the occasional waft of fried dough from a nearby food truck. Everywhere you looked, bright orange pumpkins and cornstalks lined the booths, the decorations carefully toeing the line between charmingly festive and intentionally cheesy.

You wandered through the maze of stalls, sipping from a steaming cup of cider, the warmth spreading through your fingers despite the chill in the air. There was something nostalgic about the Fall Festival, something that always made it feel like a time capsule. The families wrangling kids in oversized coats, the groups of friends laughing over rigged carnival games, even the occasional burst of a balloon popping somewhere in the distance—it all felt like stepping into a moment frozen in time.

You paused at a booth displaying handmade jewelry, the intricate designs glinting under the lights. The vendor smiled at you warmly, and you returned the gesture before continuing on, your gaze shifting to the brightly colored prizes dangling from a nearby game booth.

The sound of someone shouting your name cut through the din, and you turned to see a familiar figure waving at you from across the square. Stan stood near one of the carnival games, his signature navy beanie pulled low over his ears, holding a soda in one hand. Beside him, Kenny leaned casually against the booth’s counter, his orange hoodie bright against the fall backdrop.

“There you are!” Stan called, his breath visible in the cold air. “We thought you got lost or something.”

“I was just looking around,” you replied, making your way over to them.

Kenny straightened as you approached, his grin lazy and confident. “Good timing. You’re about to witness greatness.” He gestured toward the stack of prizes lining the shelves of the balloon-popping game.

“Greatness, huh?” you said, raising an eyebrow as you leaned against the counter beside him.

Stan snorted. “Don’t let him fool you. He’s already blown, like, ten bucks trying to win something.”

“Ten bucks well spent,” Kenny shot back, grabbing one of the darts from the booth attendant. “It’s called investing in success, Marsh. You should try it sometime.”

“Yeah, okay,” Stan said, smirking as he took a sip of his soda. “Sure.”

Kenny ignored him, turning his attention to the balloons. He aimed with exaggerated precision, squinting like he was lining up a shot that could change the course of history. With a flick of his wrist, the dart flew—and missed the balloon entirely, bouncing off the backboard.

“You’re distracting me,” Kenny said, flashing you a grin that was somehow both charming and exasperated.

“Uh-huh,” you replied, trying to stifle a laugh.

Stan shook his head. “This is painful to watch.”

Kenny threw another dart, and this time, it popped the balloon with a satisfying bang. He turned toward you, his grin widening. “See? Told you I’ve got skills babe.”

“Congratulations,” you said, clapping slowly. “You’ve truly earned your spot in the Balloon Popping Hall of Fame.”

Kenny bowed theatrically, then turned back to the booth attendant, who handed him a small stuffed pumpkin. He spun it in his hands like it was a priceless artifact before holding it out to you.

“For you, my liege,” he said, his voice mockingly chivalrous.

You laughed, taking the plush toy from him. “Wow, my very own pumpkin. How will I ever repay you?”

“By sticking around for the show later,” Kenny replied, his tone shifting from playful to surprisingly sincere. “Crimson Dawn’s hitting the stage in, like, twenty minutes.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” you said with a smile, hugging the stuffed pumpkin to your chest.

The three of you continued to wander through the festival, and for a while, everything felt perfect. The lights above twinkled like stars, the music from the stage mingling with the laughter of the crowd. Kenny cracked jokes, Stan occasionally chimed in with his deadpan humor, and for a moment, the world seemed as simple and magical as it did when you were a kid.

But then, something shifted.

It started small, barely noticeable at first. The lights, which had seemed warm and inviting, now felt just a little too bright, their glow sharper against the dark sky. The overlapping sounds of the festival—the music, the chatter, the occasional burst of a carnival game—blended into a hum that grew steadily louder, pressing against your temples.

You shook it off, brushing away the faint unease. You were probably just tired.

Kenny was saying something, but his voice seemed farther away than it should have been.

“You okay?” he asked, tilting his head toward you.

You blinked, forcing a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

But the feeling didn’t fade.

The crowd around you seemed to thicken, the once-charming chaos of the festival now feeling overwhelming. Every sound felt amplified—the rustle of jackets, the crunch of footsteps, the laughter and chatter blending into an incomprehensible blur. Even the smells, once comforting, felt suffocating now, each scent competing for dominance in a way that made your stomach churn.

Your steps faltered, and you clutched the stuffed pumpkin in your arms as if it could anchor you.

“[Y/N]?” Kenny’s voice was closer now, his usual teasing tone replaced with something softer, more concerned.

You opened your mouth to respond, but your chest felt tight, your breathing shallow.

It’s fine, you told yourself. You just need a second.

But the world around you didn’t stop spinning. The lights blurred, their sharp glow piercing your eyes. The chatter of the crowd became an unintelligible roar, pressing in from all directions. Your pulse raced, a drumbeat of panic pounding in your ears.

Kenny’s voice broke through the haze, sharper now but laced with concern. His hand brushed your arm, light but insistent. “Hey, are you sure you’re good? You’re looking pale as hell.”

You blinked, trying to find your voice, but your breathing was too shaky to form words.

Kenny’s grin disappeared, replaced with a sharp focus that felt unusual for him. He glanced over his shoulder at Stan, catching his attention. “Cover for me,” he said, low but firm. Stan didn’t question it, giving a quick nod before heading backstage.

Kenny turned back to you. “Come on, let’s get out of this mess.” His tone was softer now, and he wrapped an arm securely around your shoulders, guiding you through the crowd. His movements were steady, deliberate, as if shielding you from the chaos.

“It’s too loud, huh? Too much going on?” His words weren’t pushy, just observations. “Let’s find somewhere quiet. You’ll be fine—I promise.”

He didn’t stop until you were seated on a bench near the edge of the festival. Kenny crouched in front of you, resting a hand on your knee while his other hand hovered, ready to steady you. His blue eyes scanned your face, his expression unreadable but serious.

“Okay, look at me,” he said, his voice low but steady. “Breathe with me. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Like this.” He exaggerated a deep breath, making the motion clear. “You’re not gonna faint on me or anything. Just stick with me, alright?”

You tried to follow his lead, but the panic was unrelenting. Your breaths were shallow and erratic, and the dizzy feeling in your head refused to fade.

“Damn it,” Kenny muttered under his breath, glancing around as if the answer might be hiding nearby. His hands came up to gently hold your face, his gloved palms warm against your skin. “Focus on me, not all the noise out there. Just me. Nothing else matters right now.”

You nodded faintly, but the panic still clawed at your chest. Despite Kenny’s calm tone, your breathing stayed uneven, and the tension didn’t ease.

Kenny rubbed the back of his neck, his calm exterior cracking slightly. “Okay, plan B.” He stood and reached for your hand, pulling you up with him.

You stumbled slightly but didn’t protest as he led you away from the crowd again. “Stick with me,” he said, his voice quiet but resolute. “It’s too much out here—we’ll find somewhere better.”

The flashing lights and blaring sounds dimmed as Kenny guided you through the backstage area. His grip on your hand was firm, grounding you with every step. When he reached a small dressing room, he pushed the door open and ushered you inside. The quiet hit you like a wave, the muffled hum of the festival feeling a world away.

“Sit,” Kenny said, nodding toward the worn loveseat in the corner. You sank into the cushions, placing the pumpkin Kenny won for you down gently.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “This is your big performance, and I’m—”

“Stop that,” Kenny interrupted, crouching in front of you again. His expression softened as he met your gaze. “You’re not ruining anything. You think I care about the show right now? Screw that. You’re way more important.”

“But Kenny, you’ve been working on this for weeks,” you stammered, guilt and panic twisting together in your chest. “I don’t want to mess this up for you—”

“You’re not messing up anything,” he said firmly. His hands rested on your knees, steadying you as he leaned closer. “Do you really think I’d ditch you like this? Come on. 

His words were meant to comfort, but they only tightened the knot of guilt in your chest. The panic surged again, your breathing quickening as your vision blurred.

“Shit, okay,” Kenny muttered, running a hand through his messy blonde hair. He stood quickly, unzipping his hoodie with one smooth motion. “Here, hold still.”

Before you could question him, Kenny draped the parka over your shoulders, tugging it snugly around you. The thick fabric was heavy, the weight pressing down like an anchor against the swirling chaos in your head.

“It’s probably sweaty or something, but deal with it,” Kenny said, his tone quieter now. He zipped the jacket up gently, pulling the hood over your head. “There. Now you’re like... cocooned or whatever. Better?”

You nodded slightly, the weight and warmth of the jacket working like a shield. The faint scent of Kenny—cheap cologne and campfire smoke—grounded you further. Your breaths began to slow, the pressure in your chest easing.

Kenny knelt back down, one hand still resting on your knee. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice rough but careful. “You’re doing fine. Just take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

You looked at him, his usually sharp grin replaced with something softer. “Thanks,” you murmured.

He shrugged, though his eyes didn’t leave yours. “You’d do the same for me,” he said, his lips quirking into a faint, lopsided smile. “And besides, you look kinda cute in my jacket. Just saying.”

A weak laugh escaped you, and he grinned a little wider. “There we go. Knew I could get you to smile.”

You glanced down, toying with the zipper of his parka where it rested snugly around your shoulders. The fabric was heavy but comforting, like a shield against the chaos outside. After a moment, you looked up at Kenny, hesitant but resolute.

“Can I still watch you play?” you asked softly, your fingers fidgeting with the edges of the jacket.

Kenny’s grin faded, replaced with a skeptical look. “Are you serious? You just had a full-on panic moment out there, and you wanna jump back in?” He crossed his arms, his sharp blue eyes narrowing slightly. “No way. Not happening.”

“I’ll stay back,” you insisted, your voice small but steady. “I don’t have to be in the crowd. I just... I want to see you. Please?”

He sighed, his arms dropping to his sides as he stared at you for a long moment. “You’re really gonna push this, huh?”

You nodded, holding his gaze despite the nervous flutter in your chest.

Kenny raked a hand through his messy blonde hair, muttering something under his breath. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

You looked down, the weight of his disapproval making you shrink slightly. “I just don’t want to miss it. This is important to you.”

Kenny huffed a sharp laugh, crouching in front of you again. “You think I care about a stupid bassline more than I care about you not passing out? Come on, [Y/N]. Don’t make me be the responsible one here—it’s freaking me out.”

That earned a faint smile from you, and he rolled his eyes. “Look,” he said, his tone softening, “you wanna see the show? Fine. But no crowd. I’m not letting you get crushed by a bunch of sweaty festival-goers.”

“How?” you asked, your head tilting slightly.

He stood and offered you a hand. “We’ll sneak you backstage. You can watch from behind the amps or something. You’ll get the best view without risking a meltdown. Deal?”

Relief flooded through you, and you nodded as you took his hand. “Deal.”

Kenny pulled you to your feet, keeping a firm grip on your hand as he guided you through the narrow hallway backstage. The muffled sound of the festival buzzed around you, but the chaos felt a world away with Kenny leading the way.

When you reached a small clearing behind the stage, Kenny gestured toward a stack of equipment cases tucked behind a row of amps. “Here. You’ll be out of the way, but you can still see everything. Pretty sweet setup, right?”

You smiled, your heart warming at the effort he’d gone to for you. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

He shrugged, the corners of his mouth quirking into a faint grin. “Yeah, well, you’re lucky I’m a sucker for that face.”

Before you could respond, one of the stagehands poked their head around the corner. “McCormick! One minute!”

Kenny groaned, tossing his head back dramatically. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming!” he called before turning back to you. His grin softened into something more genuine as he grabbed his bass from a nearby stand. “Stay put, alright? And don’t go wandering off. I’m trusting you to hold down the fort.”

“I’ll behave,” you promised, settling into your spot.

“Good,” he said, slinging the bass strap over his shoulder. As he turned toward the stage, he glanced back, his usual cocky grin flickering back into place. “Enjoy the show, VIP. Try not to fall for me too hard, alright?”

You rolled your eyes, a quiet laugh escaping as he strode onto the stage. The crowd erupted into cheers, the energy surging even from your secluded vantage point.

And as Kenny plucked the first notes on his bass, a faint smile tugged at your lips. Even from the shadows, it was impossible to miss the way he owned the moment—confident, chaotic, and effortlessly cool. The low, steady thrum of his bass anchored the band, a sound that felt grounding in the best way.

Between verses, Stan leaned into his mic, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he glanced toward Kenny. “Alright, everyone give it up for Kenny McCormick on bass,” he said, gesturing lazily. “No parka tonight, folks. Must be hell of a heatwave out here—what is it, like, 30 degrees?”

The crowd chuckled, but Jimmy piped up from the drums, stammering out a sharp jab between beats. “Y-y-yeah, or maybe he sold it for a—f-for a pack of smokes!”

The crowd laughed louder this time, and even Butters chimed in with an awkward giggle. “Aw, well, I think he looks real classy without it!”

Kenny rolled his eyes, leaning into his mic with a sharp smirk. “You guys are hilarious,” he said, his voice heavy with sarcasm. “Really groundbreaking shit here—can’t wait to see this comedy tour take off. And for the record, Butters, if you think this is classy, I’m worried about what you’re settin’ the bar at.”

Butters turned red as the crowd laughed again, and Stan snorted, shaking his head. “Relax, dude, it’s just weird seeing your scrawny ass without fifty layers of orange wrapping it up. You look like a naked cat.”

Jimmy nearly dropped his drumsticks as he cackled. “M-maybe he lost a bet. Or f-f-finally figured out how zippers work!”

“Fuck all of you,” Kenny shot back, grinning despite himself as he flipped them off with one hand while still playing. The crowd cheered at his response, but Kenny’s sharp blue eyes flicked toward the shadows backstage. His grin softened slightly as he glanced your way, a silent check-in just for you.

You giggled, biting your lip to keep the sound from carrying, and pressed the sleeve of his parka to your mouth. The fabric felt warm and heavy, the weight of it keeping the sharp edges of the world at bay.

The band launched into their next song, Kenny’s bassline thrumming low and steady beneath the melody. The crowd surged with energy, and though the lights still flickered and the noise still echoed, it didn’t feel like too much anymore. With the parka wrapped snugly around you and Kenny just a glance away, everything felt manageable.

The music pounded through the stage, strong and unyielding, and Kenny kept stealing glances at you when he thought no one was looking. Every time his eyes met yours, a flicker of something warmer crossed his face—faint but unmistakable.

Maybe the chaos wasn’t gone, but it didn’t swallow you whole this time. With Kenny anchoring you, the noise and lights softened just enough.

He caught your eye again as the song ended, throwing you a quick wink before returning to his mic. “Alright, let’s hear it for Butters for not tripping over his own feet during that solo,” he said, jerking his thumb toward his bandmate.

Butters flushed red, muttering into his own mic. “I—I did good, though!”

“Yeah, you did great,” Kenny teased, his smirk widening. “For a guy who looks like his mom made him wear church shoes to the gig.”

The crowd roared with laughter, and Butters let out a high-pitched whine, hiding his face behind his guitar.

From your spot behind the amps, you couldn’t help but laugh. And as you leaned back, hugging Kenny’s parka closer, the tension that had gripped you earlier felt distant, almost silly now. Maybe not everything would be this easy, but with someone like Kenny—sharp-tongued, chaotic, but steady when it mattered—it all felt a little less overwhelming.

You’d be okay.

[mavrintarou]

[11:16 PM] Sakusa Kiyoomi

It's been a while since I last posted about Omi-Omi. Happy (belated) Valentine's Day!

Warning: mild angst but reconciled and happy smut (18+)

.

Kiyoomi set his gym bag in the usual spot of his apartment. Tonight, his home felt unusually cold and empty.

Switching the lights on, he is met with two floating balloons and a bag with red and pink hearts printed all over it.

He let out a chuckle and grabbed the bag, pulling out the tissue paper that was stuffed inside. He found all sorts of chocolate inside, his favorite chocolates.

Happy Valentine’s Day, jerk.

Y/n

Kiyoomi released a deep sigh. He and Y/n had gotten into an argument two nights ago, he couldn’t even remember what it was about. But it was 48 hours of silence from Y/n, 48 hours of emptiness.

The phone line rang repeatedly until it went to her voicemail.

He’s sent her three texts and they were left unread.

“C’mon…” he whispered, pacing around his place. “Pick up, please…”

A click came from the other line and he exhaled, “Y/n, thank goodness, where – “

“Hi, this isn’t Y/n but I’m her coworker!”

Kiyoomi frowned, and growled, “where is Y/n?”

“We are at a company dinner and she’s here… a little intoxicated…”

Kiyoomi could hear mumblings in the background, “… who is it…”

“Where are you guys?” he asked, heading to the shoe rack to put his shoes on.

He heard muffling but couldn’t hear clearly.

“… don’t tell him where I am…”

“… he’s mean and I don’t – I don’t wanna see him right now…”

His heart dropped.

“Hi, hello? Are you still there? Omi? Is this Omi with a white heart emoji next to your name? The Omi that is mean?”

“Yes,” Kiyoomi answered defeatedly, “this is Omi.”

“Look,” whoever this person on the other line whispered, “she keeps saying you are mean and she doesn’t want to see you but I secretly know she does, women to women, she wants to see you… we’re… we’re at the XXXX restaurant.” She paused before whispering loudly, “come get your girl!”

.

Kiyoomi’s strides were only half their usual length, and he inserted a two-second pause between each step. Y/n, with a gloomy mood, followed four feet behind him.

Arriving at the restaurant, he discovered her sitting sadly at the end of the table, all alone. Her colleagues were accompanied by their partners, but Y/n was left by herself. Kiyoomi felt a lump of guilt in his throat; he should have been there with her.

Their most recent argument stemmed from this issue. Y/n had requested him to cut short his training if possible for one night, but he declined, emphasizing the priority of his training.

“I’m simply asking if you could leave an hour earlier, or even thirty minutes early to make it to dinner, if it’s feasible. Can you not even manage that?” Her voice was tinged with angst.

“No, you understand how important my training is. I can’t simply leave early for something like this.”

Something like this…

Now, he felt the full weight of guilt engulfing him.

He halted and glanced back, noticing that Y/n had also come to a stop, gazing into the distance. Following her gaze, he spotted a small shop with claw and capsule machines.

He is reminded of his snarky comment about her liking such stupid things.

Walking up to her, he waited until she looked at him. “Let’s go,” he said jerking his head towards the shop.

Her cheeks were still rosy from the alcohol, her eyes weren’t as lively as they should be. “No,” she grumbles, looking away with a pout. “It’s just stupid stuff,” she attempted to walk around him when he caught her wrist and began tugging her towards the store. “What are you doing?”

He ignores her question and tugs her gently along until they get to the change machine. Stuffing a few bills inside to exchange for tokens. “What would you like?”

She looked at the handful of tokens and then his eyes, and with a weary tone she asked, “why are you doing this?”

“Because you like it and it makes you happy,” his tone is gentle and careful, “and I want to see you happy.” He puts a handful of tokens in her palm. “Go, show me what makes you happy.”

Still pouty, she closed her fingers around the token and walked around him.

Kiyoomi smiled to himself, knowing deep down she was excited.

.

“Are you satisfied with your wins?” He stared at the bag full of plushies and capsule toys.

Y/n nodded, restraining a bright smile on her lips. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Seizing the opportunity, Kiyoomi extended his left hand, asking, “can you hold my hand?” He let out a quite breath when she placed her palm in his. They walked side by side in silence.

“Where are we going?” she asked quietly.

“Let’s go grab some junk food at 7/11 and... my place?” He prayed she would come over but instead, she looked at him as if he had two heads. Chuckling, he knew why she was looking at him weirdly. He was completely against eating any junk food, let alone anything from a convenience store. “A little junk food won’t kill me.”

“It might make you sick though?”

“Shh, don’t jinx me like that.”

.

Sure enough, it did make him feel sick.

All he ate was a cup of instant ramen, and within less than an hour, he started experiencing stomach churning.

“I told you,” Y/n scolded, yet concern was written all over her face. She quickly ushered him to lie down on the couch.

If it meant for Y/n to nurse him and show him affection again, the stomach ache was worth it.

He groaned, “it hurts…”

Digging through her purse, she tried to look for her pill box. “Here, take this medication. It’ll help with the tummy ache.”

He accepted the small pill and popped it into his mouth, taking it down with water. He grabbed her hand, “rub my tummy like you did that one time.”

Y/n hesitated, staring at him suspiciously before reaching to push his shirt up to reveal his abdomen. She ignored the ripples of muscles and put pressure on a certain area of his body.

Kiyoomi groaned, feeling instant relief.

She reached for his hand and placed it with hers, “when you have a tummy ache, always press this pressure point.”

She was about to stand up when he stopped her. Panicking he asked, “wait, where are you going?”

“I’m just going to make you some rice soup.”

He still pouted, watching her walk away to his kitchen.

A few minutes later, she returned with a bowl of steaming contents. “Bland, just the way you like it,” she mentioned, taking a seat on the edge of the couch. “How is your stomach feeling?”

“It’ll feel a lot better if you do it…”

Y/n scoffed and slapped his hand away, “you’re such a baby.”

“Correction, I’m your baby…”

Y/n narrowed her eyes at him, “who are you and what have you done to Kiyoomi?”

Kiyoomi’s lips turned downwards. “Omi…” he corrected quietly. When she doesn’t respond he bites his lips nervously. “I’m sorry.”

Her brow raised, and she looked at him as if she didn’t comprehend what he was saying.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, louder this time. “I have been a jerk and insensitive to you… I have not been compromising and mean to you and I’m sorry,” he bowed his head. “I don’t want you to be mad at me anymore. I’ll do better, I promise. Please don’t leave me.” His voice cracked at his last part of his sentence.

“Leave you? Who said I was leaving you?”

“But you didn’t want to see me?”

Y/n frowned, confused. “When did I say that?”

“Earlier on the phone, I heard you telling your coworker that you didn’t want to see me…” very quietly he added, “that hurt my feelings.” He felt childish but he wanted to be honest.

“I didn’t want to see you is very different from I’m leaving you,” Y/n clarified. She sighed, running a hand through her hair before reaching for the bowl of soup. She blew to cool the spoonful of soup before bringing it to his mouth. “I said that I didn’t want to see you because I knew I would give in and forgive you.”

He swallows the soup before asking, “please forgive me?”

“I saw your face so I already forgave you.”

He couldn’t ignore the cheering in his mind. “Do you really mean it? You forgive me for being a jerk?”

“Yes, you jerk.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“But you called yourself that too?” Y/n countered, shoving a spoonful of soup into his mouth. “Eat and feel better.”

Kiyoomi smiles, “… kiss me, that would really make me feel better.”

The corner of her lips tugged upward, “you sly jerk…”

He sits up, bringing his face close to hers. “Please, a kiss?”

She pecks his lips.

He pouted, “that’s not a kiss.”

“Yes it is, my lips touched yours.”

He blinked and then frowned, “that was hardly a kiss…”

Y/n raised a brow, challenging him, “then what’s a kiss to you then?”

And he showed her.

He cupped her face, tilting it before pressing his lips against hers. As soon as she gasped, he slipped his tongue in, meeting hers in a tango.

“Omi…” Y/n breathed, pushing him away to catch a breath.

His lips continued to her jaw and down her neck. “Please Y/n…” he begged, tugging at her tucked-in dress shirt. He pulls away and looks at her with dark pupils, waiting for her consent.

She launched at him, knocking him onto his back once more. Her mouth moved hungrily against his as she tugged at his clothes.

“I’m not going anywhere…” he chuckled.

“You will be if you don’t take help take our clothes off…”

Their clothes lay carelessly on the ground seconds later.

Y/n raised herself and straddled his lap. She rocked her hips, gliding her pussy along the length of his cock.

Kiyoomi hissed loudly as his hands gripped her hip tightly, nails digging into her hip bone. “Don’t –“ he choked, “don’t tease me…” He didn’t miss the smirk on her lips.

Having enough of not being inside of her already, Kiyoomi flipped them and shifted her underneath him. His hand found one of hers and threaded their fingers together, clasping tightly. He searched her eyes and she answered by lifting her hips.

“Haa, you’re going to be the death of me,” he sank his cock into her sweet pussy.

He waited a few seconds, savoring the intimate bond. Kiyoomi peers down at her before pressing his forehead against hers and without breaking eye contact, he whispers, “I love you.”

He doesn’t express those three words as frequently as he ought to, but he can observe the way her eyes illuminate when he does. “I love you, Y/n…” he repeated, rocking his hips slowly but deeply. “I know I don’t say it often enough for you but you are my everything… and I never want to be without you again…”

Y/n released a soft whimper and cupped his face, connecting their lips. “I love you too, Omi…”

It was soft lovemaking.

Each rock of his hips was gentle with care, with love.

“Let’s cum together?”

Y/n nodded, tightening her arms around his shoulders and soon their bodies trembled in release.

Kiyoomi pulls Y/n up and they sit down, still connected very intimately. He reached for the bag of chocolate, took a piece, and unwrapped it before placing it into her mouth. Then, he helped himself to a piece as well.

“Thank you for the chocolate,” he murmurs.

Pressing a kiss to his cheek, she whispered, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Omi.”

. . .

E/n: Going back to Teo now...

>>> @queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy

[syckubota]

illustrated some comic pages based off some writing i have. sketches and flat ink process (alongside a long-winded info-dump) below :)

I'm a little shy about it, but I've been getting into fun self-insert stuff lately. Fallout 4 is truly a dating sim game...

The character in this comic is supposed to be fairly reflective of real-life me, but there's sort of an alternate-universe catch to them; They're like a time capsule of the me in October, 2024. So, there's certain bits of wisdom and knowledge, of which I that have now, that they don't. Essentially, they're prone to making blunders, and still have personal developments to make. I've been having lotsa fun exploring this concept!

The premise of my writing/story is that in another universe, on October 23, 2024, they wake up in Sanctuary Hills, October 23, 2287. This version of me is from our world, so they are heavily under-prepared for surviving the wasteland, and their only advantage is the fact that they have decent knowledge about the Fallout world (due to their fixation on it). They have to navigate this much more brutal environment, coupled with their personal vices and difficulties, including but not limited to the horror of being mysteriously ripped out of their own world. Their social-psychological struggles inadvertently leads to them deciding that lying about their origins was the best course of action. This alternate me initially white-lies about being a psychic, until it spirals out of control and they end up having to break the truth to everyone they've lied to. Nate is also released from Vault 111, and this alternate me has the honors of spoiling the Institute's grand looming scheme, after a bit of convincing.

The specific context behind this scene/snippet depicted in the comic, is that this alternate me hired MacCready, to not only have an experienced wastelander backing them up, but to also, hopefully begin assisting him with his struggles. They let it be known that they have (an unspecified amount of) knowledge about his life, but they still lied to him about where they were coming from, just how much they knew--and--their plans to help him. This me was also strongly in denial about their fascination and affection for him, so they were actively fighting a crush the whole time. They were hoping to help him and get on with their life elsewhere, and hopefully with someone else.

This alternate me planned to clear out the warehouses and to collect scrap for land development, with MacCready's help. They end up explaining a bit about their Minuteman-aligned land development goals, and unintentionally let on that they knew about MacCready's tragedy. When MacCready realizes this, there comes an awkward tension, because he is left blind-sided trying to process everything, and this me is extremely worried he took the information poorly, and may refuse their offer to help. This alternate me feels the need to be avoidant with him, and decides to get the job over with, the sooner the better.

However, since this alternate me was distracted with being evasive to their hired help, they had gotten careless, resulting in a heavily bleeding wound.

For further context, and before I continue, MacCready already sort of felt like he could resign his social-emotional walls to this alternate me. This was due to the fact that they already knew quite a bit about him, but didn't do anything to betray/exploit him. This alternate me also invited him to ask for whatever information he wanted back from them, to keep things fair and square. So, as a result, over the day he'd gotten to know them, he already felt some sense of kinship with them.

This leads back to this scene. MacCready simply offers to check and wrap up the wound (thus the vodka, rag, and bandages). This alternate me is already confused as to why he's being so friendly already, and they have some conversation, but it inadvertently leads back to the awkward tension they were feeling earlier; this alternate me comes clean about how much they actually knew about his life, and their intentions to turn things around for him, but they still hide the exact details of where they truly came from, unsure if it was the right time to do so.

MacCready understands. Taking their word, he truly believes this me was a person from his world, blessed with 'the sight', who was going out of their way to find the solutions to the near hopeless issues that had been eating away at him. Instead of feeling scorn or disturbance, he's glad to be understood, and have a way out of the hole he's in--it is an insanely cathartic thing for him, and he expresses his relief and gratitude accordingly. But this me knows that they were still lying to his face about their own past, and feels that their acts aren't deserving of such high praise. Instead of being able to fully appreciate his gratitude, they carry an immense guilt for their disingenuity, alongside deep humility about themself. There's nothing like being the cause of your own problems.

Anyways, TLDR: I turned myself into an original character and I'm torturing them here! 😁

to further explain why this alternate me didn't just stick a stimpak in themself so they wouldn't have needed help checking their wound:

stims are expensive. YES i know Boston is a stimpak trove but bro just got here...

stims were originally intended as healing aids, and this alternate me realistically needed stitches first. It was also the only wound they got; nor was it severe enough to call for one right away. YES i know that's not how the game treats stimpaks, though.

[butchpeace]

Pelvic Floor Health for Detrans Women

A disclaimer before we start: I am not a doctor, a PT, or an expert of any kind, I just noticed there was a lack of information about pelvic floor health in the detrans (and trans) communities and I wanted to compile the information that I’ve gained. If there are any issues or you have any wisdom to share, please DM me! I plan to add to this post and edit it over time as I learn more.

95% of females who have been on testosterone report pelvic health issues, which can include urinary leakage or retention, bladder pain, difficulty emptying the bladder, general pelvic pain, pain with sex, vaginal dryness, vaginal atrophy, vaginismus, anal issues, and more. (Source)

Here’s a discussion with a pelvic floor expert on the issues faced by females who have been on testosterone.

If you’ve experienced any of these problems, you’re not alone, and there are things you can do!

Vaginal Atrophy

The vast majority of detransitioning women (and females who are transitioning) have vaginal atrophy, which is a thinning and weakening of the tissues that line the vaginal wall. Atrophy can lead to pain during sex, or with regular movement, bleeding due to small tears in the vaginal lining, narrowing of the vaginal canal, urinary issues, and more.

Because testosterone affects our ovaries, we can think of this issue as something similar to GSM (Genitourinary Syndrome of Menopause). Many of our symptoms mirror what happens to women as they age and their estrogen production decreases.

Treatments for Atrophy

1. Vaginal estrogen comes in the form of creams, suppositories, and insertable rings.

2. Vitamin E suppositories have been found to be as effective as vaginal estrogen in some studies. (Source)

3. Sea Buckthorn oil capsules have been shown to be effective in vaginal health. (Source)

4. Regular sexual activity can help by filling the vaginal wall tissues with blood, which can help to revitalize those tissues.

There are also many options for dryness, including vaginal moisturizers, aloe, coconut oil, and more. Sometimes the simplest natural options can be the most effective! Always talk to your gynecologist and do your own research on products you’re considering buying and make sure the ingredients are safe. Some people may experience yeast infections and other issues when using certain products.

Vaginal atrophy itself is to blame in many cases for the urinary symptoms that many of us report, and treating the atrophy may be all that’s needed in order to improve the urinary symptoms.

In other cases, we also need to look at overall pelvic floor health. I would argue that taking care of your pelvic floor is essential for any woman at any stage of life, since it can help with so many things!

Pelvic Floor Muscle Issues

Pelvic floor health issues can be divided into 2 types - Hypotonicity and Hypertonicity. Both types can lead to bladder issues, among other things.

Hypotonicity is the classic type many women experience after having children or during menopause. It’s also described as having a weak pelvic floor, and kegels are often the best treatment. The YouTube playlist at the end of this post includes videos for beginner and advanced kegel exercise methods and yoga.

Hypertonicity is the opposite type, where the pelvic muscles are chronically tight. For this, the treatment is to use muscle release methods to relax the pelvic floor. Remember - Relaxed muscles are the best at doing their job.

Anxiety can also be a factor in hypertonicity! If you’re often anxious, get used to checking how that feels in your pelvic floor. Many young women experience bladder leakage or discomfort, feeling like you have to go when you don’t, or pain with sexual activity, due to anxiety which causes overly tight muscles.

You wouldn’t think at first that Hypertonicity could lead to urinary symptoms like leakage, but when your muscles are overly tight, they just don’t work the way they should.

Sitting a lot and generally not getting much exercise also causes muscles in the pelvic floor, hips, and hamstrings to tighten and become shorter, so stretching these areas is very helpful.

And when you have a urinary issue, or you’re dealing with the aftermath of childbirth, surgery, or any other medical trauma to the pelvic floor, there can be a tendency to reflexively tighten your muscles all the time, for fear of what might happen if you don’t. Some people with hypertonicity also experience their symptoms getting worse if they do a lot of kegel exercise. In these situations, kegels can become counterintuitive.

That said, using methods to address both types can be the best option for some people. As long as you listen to your body, keep track of how each method makes you feel, and talk with a doctor or pelvic floor PT if you have serious concerns or don’t understand how to do something, you should be able to figure out something that will help!

Vaginismus is also a very common condition that’s connected to hypertonicity and potential mental causes. You’ll know you have Vaginismus if you’ve always had trouble inserting things into your vagina, or if your partner has had trouble with it. Many women describe it as a sensation of the vagina closing up when faced with something trying to get in. You may find that at certain times or with certain objects, you have no problem, and at other times or with other objects, you do. Stretches and massages for hypertonicity can often help with Vaginismus.

Prolapse is a relatively common issue in women who have had kids and older women in menopause. This can also cause urinary symptoms. The incidence of pelvic floor prolapse in females on testosterone is not known, but due to atrophy weakening the walls of the vagina, it’s possible that testosterone will increase your risk. It’s also more common in people who have had a hysterectomy.

Tools

1. Vaginal dilators can be helpful for people who have trouble with Vaginismus or feel like their vagina is small. These are also helpful for people who have difficulty inserting fingers

2. A pelvic wand or vibrator can help you with massage to loosen muscles, if needed

4. Kegel trainers come in various types and can help you perform kegels more effectively if you know that your issue is hypotoniticy

5. Pessaries can help in cases where atrophy has led to pelvic floor prolapse. Make sure you get diagnosed before using one!

6. Your hands! Don’t underestimate the power of using your hands for external or internal massage

The biggest thing to take away from this post is this - Don’t be afraid of your vagina or pelvic floor! Don’t be afraid to try things that may help you improve whatever issues you’re having.

Your vagina is a normal part of your body, and especially when you’re experiencing issues, that’s when it’s time to really learn about it and understand what’s going on. If you’re anything like me, you’ve gone your whole life being too afraid or too uninformed to do certain things or explore your body in certain ways. We need to reduce the fear, stigma, and awkwardness of vaginal and pelvic floor issues, and the first step is to get to know your body. 💪

Exercises

I’ve put together a playlist of YouTube videos that have helped me in this process, which I will continue to add to. I hope they help you too!

And again, please DM me with any information you think is helpful or stories about what worked for you.

And if you’re a medical professional, I would love for you to review this post and suggest edits or additions.

Please share this with all your friends! My intention is for this to be a community resource we can use to spread awareness✌🏼

[electric-ocean-explorer]

Law x Vegapunk!Oc

 "Second Chance"

Warnings: SFW, Angst, Fluff, Past trauma, Law is bad with fellings.

Word count: ~1.700

Synopsis: A story of found family, emotional healing, and a dangerously carefree robot who tries to challenge Law's emotional walls in very odd ways.

Notes: Yanno I can't hold myself. Again.

   Everything was going smoothly aboard the Polar Tang that morning. It was nearly time to surface to refresh the air when the sonar picked up something unusual.

“Captain! We’ve detected a strange object on sonar. Something very dense near the surface,” Bepo announced, turning to Law with a hint of nervousness. “Should we investigate?”

    Adjusting the periscope, Penguin blinked at the sight. “Looks like a capsule… but it’s kind of dented,” he commented, frowning. His expression quickly shifted to concern. “Captain, you need to see this.”

    What Law saw made his stomach tighten. Etched on the side of the capsule were the words: “Dr. Vegapunk – Punk 7.”

    He had to decide quickly: ignore it and carry on with the mission, or take a gamble on this strange artifact. At best, it could hold valuable information against the Marines; at worst, a trap that could endanger everyone on board. He had to tread carefully.

“Surface,” Law commanded, the corner of his mouth twitching into a faint smirk. It was a high-stakes bet — and he was willing to take it.

    The Polar Tang rose to the surface in seconds. Its decompression systems, designed for strategic retreats amidst Grand Line chaos, functioned flawlessly. As soon as they emerged, they spotted the strange metallic sphere floating in the distance. Law was already standing by the hatch.

“Room. Shambles.” In a blink, the capsule appeared on deck.

“Solid ground detected. Emergency protocol initiated" announced a metallic voice as the object began to open automatically.

    From inside emerged a small, humanoid-looking girl (insert your imagined features here). One side of her face was marked by what resembled a crack. Slowly, she opened her eyes, pupils adjusting to the light.

“Are you… Dr. Vegapunk?” she asked in an innocent tone, tilting her head as if she genuinely didn’t know what to expect.

    Law didn’t answer right away. He’d expected a weapon, a machine, classified documents, maybe even a dangerous chemical… but a girl? That wasn’t part of any calculation.

“Mochi mochi?” She waved her hand in front of his face, making him flinch slightly.

“I’m not Vegapunk. I’m Trafalgar D. Water Law. Identify yourself immediately.”

“Punk 7, at your service!”

    Law kept a stern expression, but his eyes were already scanning every inch of her. His internal diagnostic instincts kicked in: vitals, structure, threat level. But before he could speak again, the girl hopped nimbly out of the capsule and stretched her arms like she’d just woken up from a nap.

“Ahhh, it feels good to be out of that awful thing! How long was I asleep? No wait… did I sleep for years?” She looked around with childlike curiosity, approaching the ship’s railing with wide eyes. “Wow, this is the real ocean?! Amazing! I’ve only seen simulations! Hey, do you guys have turtles? They still exist, right? Oh no—what if they went extinct while I was sleeping?!”

    Law frowned, completely thrown off. It’s not every day a potential World Government weapon emerges from an experimental capsule asking about turtle extinction.

Bepo, equally baffled, leaned closer to whisper, “Captain… what now?”

    Meanwhile, the girl, blissfully unaware of the tension around her, turned to the crew, hands on her hips and beaming like a cheerful radio host. “Good morning, good afternoon, and good evening, mystery crew! Pleased to meet you! You can call me Punk 7… or just Nana! It’s friendlier, right?”

“Captain, can we keep her?” Ikaku was already hugging her, teary-eyed.

“Enough!” Law cut in. “First, I need to know who — or what — you are, where you came from, and why you were in that capsule.”

    Nana paused, raised a finger as if about to give an excellent explanation… then made a thoughtful face. “Hmm… good question, Mr. D. Water Serious,” she said, then gave herself a playful bonk on the head and laughed sheepishly. “Hehe, I kind of… broke?”

    Law arched an eyebrow. “What do you mean, ‘broke’?”

“Oh, you know. Classic existential glitch, maybe a few corrupted files here and there, some missing data. Totally normal after being locked in a capsule on standby mode with probable head trauma.” She shrugged with an overly calm grin. “I don’t fully remember my purpose. But I do have a great sense of humor and an updated joke database!”

“That… is not at all reassuring.”

“And it shouldn’t be!” she declared, throwing her arms out dramatically. “Because if there’s one thing humanity fears, it’s when their creation develops its own opinions.”

Law stepped closer, cautious. “Do you remember anything useful?”

    Nana placed a hand on her chin, thoughtful.

“Hmm… I remember lights. Lots of lights. And a voice—probably Vegapunk’s—saying, ‘This should work.’ Which, you know, sounds sort of hopeful. I also remember a lab… and music. They used to play a song to calm me when tests went wrong. Oh, and a banana bread recipe! Though that one might’ve come from a pirated cooking program…”

    Law crossed his arms, his brain aching from trying to process her nonsense. She was worse than the damn Straw Hat. “So you have no idea what your real purpose is?”

“None! But hey, maybe the universe sent me to you guys for a reason!” She pointed to the sky excitedly, then shrank a little. “Or maybe I just hit the wrong button in the capsule. Both options are equally likely.”

    Law sighed. She was a walking enigma, possibly one of Vegapunk’s secret projects, but oddly… she didn’t feel threatening. At least, not yet.

“We’ll monitor you closely. Until we understand more about who — or what — you are, you’ll be under observation. And don’t go snooping around the submarine.”

“Understood, Captain Grumpy!” She saluted dramatically, nearly slipping. “Punk 7, official mascot of the Polar Tang, reporting for duty!”

Penguin chuckled to Shachi. “I give her three days before she touches the main engine.”

Shachi replied without looking away from Nana, who was now mimicking Bepo’s gestures.

“Three? That’s optimistic.”

. . .

    Silence ruled Law’s lab, broken only by the sound of instruments and pages turning. The room was sterile, precise, like the man himself — everything in order, nothing out of control.

Until…

“Captain, have you considered that if this place had a bit more color, patients might feel more comfortable?”

Law didn’t look up. “No. And stop putting glitter in my workspace.”

Nana, hanging upside down from the ceiling pipes (for some reason), made a dramatic pout.

“Aww… you never let me add personality to things! This place looks like a depressed dentist's office.”

    Law finally looked up, glaring as if he could teleport her across the ocean. “This is a submarine operating room, not an amusement park.”

“And that’s exactly why it needs a touch of life!” she said, flipping down with an unnecessarily acrobatic and loud landing. “By the way, when was the last time you slept more than three hours?”

“None of your business.”

“Aha!” She pointed at him like she’d just solved a mystery. “I knew it! You’re one of those self-sabotaging leaders!” She started mimicking him. "I'm too strong to need rest! Caffeine is my only friend!’”

    Law rubbed his face in frustration. “I never said that.”

“And I never said you did.”

    Whether he liked it or not, Law was aware: Nana had completely disrupted his routine. She invaded his space, challenged his logic, made up wild theories about the crew (“Bepo’s probably a Revolutionary spy disguised as a mascot!”) and, worst of all… she asked questions. About him. About how he felt. About what he wanted.

    And that was dangerous.

    Not because she was malicious, on the contrary. Nana was like a ray of sunlight wrapped in cracked metal, still determined to shine. She laughed easily, spread chaos like it was confetti, and somehow… she was filling parts of Law he didn’t know were empty.

    She reminded him of Corazon.

    Not in looks, not exactly in behavior. Corazon was clumsy in a quiet way, always trying to put out fires — while Nana loved to start them. But there was something… a similar light. A spark that refused to die, even in darkness.

    Law hated it.

    Because every time she smiled at him like he deserved it, something inside him hurt. An old pain, deep and lingering. As if the universe was testing whether he could lose another light. “Not again” his mind whispered every time she made a joke at his expense or bumped into him just to get a reaction. “Don’t get attached.” He couldn’t afford it. Not anymore.

    But Nana didn’t understand those boundaries. She kept cracking his armor. And worst of all — she made him laugh. Something he hadn’t done, not truly, since…

    Since he saw Corazon’s body bleeding on the ground.

    Law closed his eyes briefly, still sitting on deck, ocean sounds in the background, Nana beside him staring up at the stars.

"You remind me of someone I can’t forget", he wanted to say. "You make me want to protect someone again. And that terrifies me." But he didn’t.

“Hey,” Nana broke the silence, gently nudging his arm. “If you could change something about your past… would you?”

    He took a while to answer. “I don’t know,” he said at last, voice low. “Sometimes I think yes. Other times… I think it made me who I am.”

“You know, I don’t have a past. But sometimes I think that just means I can be whoever I want. A mess in progress,” she joked, but her smile was smaller.

    Law looked at her. For the first time, not through the lens of caution or logic — just with quiet humanity. “You’re not a mess. Just… under different circumstances.”

    She turned to him, surprised by the quiet confession. “You’re really getting soft, Captain.”

“Shut up, Nana.”

    She smiled, not mocking this time. A small, grateful smile. Almost reverent. And for once, Law allowed the silence to exist between them, not as discomfort, but as something necessary. As if maybe, just maybe, her presence wasn’t a threat.

    But a second chance.

[fiend1shthings]

I know I like to post a bunch in a really short amount of time but I feel like one post doesn’t feel appropriate for everything I gotta send out to the infinite time capsule of the internet so here’s some Eltingville club art and a self insert I want to draw more I need to replicate this art style or else I’m going to explode or something

I need to draw my ocs fr 💔💔

I think if I was actually in the club, majority of the slur usage would be used towards me instead so uhm 😞😞

I also uh, don’t like how I drew Jerry. I wanna redo that sometime, or do it with pencil so it’s neater, because uh… whoa.. pen can’t erase. Shocker!!!!

I The references v

[s0ftpixels]

˗ˏˋ stay in my memories ࿐ྂ “‘cause it’s still on my clothes, everything that I own and it makes me feel like dying”

summary: It's been about 10 years since you last saw him. since any of you last saw him. but tonight as you're back from the after-party of Mitsuya's show you walked, Mikey shows up at your apartment. drunk.

notes: based on memories by conan grey. lowkey a self-insert lol. please read the warnings before you read !!

warnings: mentions of past violence, mentions of past sexual relations, toxic relationships, body image issues, oc is skinny!, mentioned/implied eating issues/disorders(ARFID), mentioned and talk of weight issues, alcohol use, weapons(guns), intoxication, Mikey being the bitchass ex that comes back when you're finally healed, insensitive!mikey, not edited

pairing: bonten!mikey x model!oc

word count: 2787

Her back hits the elevator wall as it moves up stories. It’d take a while for her to get to her floor. It was right underneath the penthouse after all. She worked hard for the money so she deserved to live in a nice place like a luxury high-rise building. The penthouse was unoccupied at the time she moved in and the owner had even given her the offer of it but it was huge. The place would go to waste as she lived alone, no longer rooming with Tachibana Hinata who had moved back in with her younger brother. She sighs and stares up the ceiling of the elevator and sighs tiredly. Her body ached but not as much as her feet did in the heels she was wearing. “Fuck” she mumbles and pulls them off her feet

She rolls her ankles as she stands back up straight, holding her heels in one hand. After an obnoxiously long elevator right, she finally reaches her apartment. Typing in the code, she enters and leaves her heels on the rack and locks the door. Her apartment is empty just like it should be. She had gotten used to being alone after middle school ended and everyone was too busy with their lives. It was middle school when Tokyo Manji Gang had disbanded and although she wasn’t a part of the gang(for very obvious reasons), it felt like the world was ending. But that wasn’t the end, a meteorite had crashed down on her when Sano ‘Mikey’ Manjiro cruelly broke her heart a week after the captains buried the time capsule. She never saw him again after that. She didn’t want to. She even declined Kawargi Senju’s request to join Brahman just so she didn’t have to see Mikey. She didn’t care that all of Mikey’s old friends were trying to bring him back or whatever that meant. It wasn’t her problem. Mikey broke her heart and very clearly stated he didn’t want anything to do with her so she wasn’t about to be hard to get rid of. “In today’s news, Japan’s most wanted gang, Bonten, has been—”

She tunes out the news and switches to another channel playing reruns of Naruto. She gets up and heads over to the large floor-to-ceiling windows and draws the curtains open, revealing the vast view of Tokyo in front of her. Another tired sigh leaves her. She’s still in that mini dress Mitsuya made for her for the after-party. Mitsuya held a fashion show for his new line. Many famous people attended and many famous people walked the runway, including her. It was about 5 years ago that Mitsuya had encouraged her to start modelling along with Hakkai. Now both of them were pretty famous. Her life was going pretty well. She had a steady stream of money coming in, multiple brand deals coming her way and she no longer felt like actual shit. So when Mitsuya asked her to be in his show she agreed right away. The show was a success and things were going really well till the end of the after-party when she overheard Mistuya talking to Draken about Mikey not having shown up. They invited Mikey.

Sano fucking Manjiro was a wanted criminal at a high-profile fashion show.

Not to mention that they didn’t even tell her that her ex was invited. 

Sure it had been 10 years and even if she was over it, she’d rather not face him again. It was stupid to her that Mistuya had even wanted to invite Mikey especially since put them all in 2-3 day-long comas 9 years ago. But boys were stupid and they always forgave each other even after the biggest of problems. Her and Mikey’s past relationship was probably just a second thought so she didn’t blame him too much and got over it fast(but that didn’t mean she wasn’t pissed). She ended up leaving the after party a bit earlier which is how she ended up back at her apartment. It’s lonely but thankfully not cold. She should probably take her makeup off or maybe eat something but the kitchen seems to far and the view in front of her— even though she’s seen it a hundred times— was too pretty to look away from. She rests her forehead against the cold glass and sighs, her warm breath creating condensation on the glass. 

BANG BANG BANG

She groans internally. Whoever was the door might as well be kicking it down with how loud and hard they’re knocking on it. She pushes herself off the glass and starts to walk toward her door, passing by the few frames of pictures from her childhood.

Pictures of Emma and Baji. Pictures of Mikey. It had taken her a while to get over him but it had been 10 years and it no longer hurt to look at the pictures. She hadn’t put up the ones with just him and her in them but the group ones instead. She looks through the peephole first and sees no one. She furrows her brows and without thinking opens the door. She takes a few steps back as someone stumbles in. She doesn’t see their face at first. She’s greeted with the strong scent of alcohol and a mop of white hair. “What the—”

Her door is slammed shut and the intruder looks up. Her heart stops. Well not really but it felt like it. There, barged into her apartment was Sano fucking Manjiro. “Hey baby” 

Her heart drops. “Mikey…”

“Uh-huh, it’s me” He brushes past her and walks further into her apartment like he owned the place “Nice place”

She bites harshly at her bottom lip to stop herself from cursing this guy out(which she was going to do until she saw the gun tucked into the back of his pants). “What are you doing here?” She asks, hesitantly following behind him

Mikey heads over to her kitchen and opens her fridge, rummaging through it the same way he would when they were together all these years ago. She watches in silence but also looks around for her phone to either call the police or maybe Draken to come help. “Mistuya invited me to his show… Lost track of time and couldn’t make it” He says and pulls out a bottle of Korean alcohol, peach flavoured Soju

She runs her fingers through her hair. “And what does that have to do with me?” She asks as Mikey slams her fridge door shut and takes a seat on the tiled floor while she stands before him

He unscrews the metal cap and carelessly throws it at her the same way he would when they would go through her dad’s alcohol collection and secretly drink from it when they were together. “Since I missed the show, thought I’d come see the star” Mikey takes a swing and his eyes scan her up and down “Mistuya made that dress f’you, yeah?”

Her heart is beating fast and so hard it’s hurting her ribs. The dress was short. Longer from the back, covering her butt at least but shorter at the front, showing off her long legs as Mitsuya said. It hugged her form with the corset styled lacing at the back of the dress. “Yeah he did…”

There is a moment of silence between them. She needs him to leave. It was so stupid that Mikey was back. Even worse that this guy was cosplaying as Izana. His haired bleached platinum and cut short. He even had that stupid Hanafuda tattoo on the back of his neck. She feels angry but before she could say another, Mikey speaks first “you gained weight… You look good”

She instantly feels sick. “Shut up”

Mikey smirks as he takes a swing from the glass green coloured bottle. “Is that still a sore topic for you? I thought that now that you’re a model you—”

“Please just shut up” She pleads

She’d rather not hear this again. Not after so many years. She used to have a problem with eating. It’s not that she had an issue with how she looked or something like that, she had an issue with food in general. “You’ve got food in your fridge though. You’re eating well” Mikey murmurs, his hand reaching up to hold her thigh “not sickly skinn—”

“Mikey” She mutters clenching her fists “stop it”

Mikey just smiles and it infuriates her. How dare he come back after 10 years and do this? Say this? “Can you leave?”

“No”

“What do you mean, no?”

Mikey is still smiling like nothing is wrong. Through the dim lighting she sees his dark circles and unnecessarily pale skin. He looks like death. “Come sit”

He doesn’t give her much of a choice when he pulls her down. Her knees make contact with the tilted floor making a thud sound and she hisses in pain. Mikey puts the bottle of Soju down next to him and coos gently, putting his hands on her knees and rubs them to ease the sudden pain. “Sorry about that, got carried away” he murmurs, voice all sweet

Now that she’s this close she can smell the alcohol on his and his cologne. Her head spins as Mikey adjusts her position with ease, letting her legs drape over his lap. “You need to leave” She tells him, watching him pick up the Soju again and drink from it, keeping his free hand on her quickly bruising knees, rubbing them

“I don’t think so” Mikey says with a shrug “and it doesn’t look like you want me to leave”

She doesn’t think she’s ever met someone more delusional than him. “No. Actually I want you to leave. You baradged into my house. Get. Out”

“Is that how you treat all your ex-lovers?” Mikey questions, a playful smile on his lips “oh wait, last I heard little miss model has been single since we broke up. Don’t you wanna get back together? Don’t you miss me—”

“Nope”

“You answered pretty fast so I’m guessing that’s a yes”

She pulls her legs away from his lap and scoots back to create some distance between them. Mikey’s eyes darken as she moves away, looking a mixture of disappointed and some other emotion. “I need you to leave” She says more sternly this time 

Mikey just takes another swing of the bottle, giving her the same look as he would when they were younger when he wasn’t in the mood to listen. He was a criminal. A ruthless gangleader who had the country under his boot but here he was drinking her soju on her kitchen floor acting the same way he did when he was 14. “Mikey—”

“Manjiro… You called me Manjiro” He cuts her off it makes her mad

“No, Mikey” She says, trying to make her voice as stern as possible

Mikey raises his brow. “No?” he repeats

“No.”

They both stare at each other for a moment. “Why not?” Mikey asks, his blunt nails taping against the glass of the now half empty bottle in his hand “It’s been 10 years, has anything really changed?”

His eyes are glossy red and pale cheeks a bit flushed. She surprised he isn’t drunk yet. Perhaps he built up his tolerence over the years. She shifts, sitting in a side saddle position on the floor so she didn’t put any more pressure on her still aching knees. “It’s been 10 years” She repeats narrowing her eyes at him “You can’t just come back out of nowhere and expect me to welcome you back with open arms… I’ve made something of myself. You can’t come back out of nowhere and ruin it for me”

She feels so angry. He wasn’t allowed to do this. “Please don’t ruin this for me”

Mikey doesn’t say anything for a moment. He’s just staring at her like he’s oblivious to what she’s saying, like he doesn’t understand what she means. Mikey just takes another gulp of the peach soju and her eye twitches. “You had to show up today to ruin things” She says with anger “I wanted to put you in the past ‘cause what you did traumtized me but you’re not letting me do that!”

Mikey is staring at her like a lost puppy, sipping at the soju like it’s water. “I’ve moved on but you’re back here sitting in my fucking kitchen not listening to a word I’m saying”

It was like talking to a damn wall. Mikey wasn’t listening and going off on a rant would just be her wasting her breath. “Drink” Mikey holds out the bottle to her

She’s angry. So fucking angry but the bottle was her own, bought with her own money when she went to Korea a week ago for a photoshoot so she takes it from him and takes a large gulp. It was bitter for some reason. She can taste cigarettes on the rim which was probably from Mikey and it pissed her off even more. Hours pass and it’s soon 1 am. “Mikey I can’t say goodbye if you stay here the whole night” She tells him

They’re still on her kitchen floor and now on their 3rd bottle. She watches Mikey about to light a cigarette but she slaps the stick out of his hand. “No smoking in my house” she hisses

Mikey frowns but shrugs, stuffing his lighter back into his pocket. “But I don’t wanna leave” he murmurs, reaching out to hold her waist, dragging her closer to him with ease across the tiled floor “I want you back”

Her now completely bruised knees make contact with his the side of his thigh and she puts her hands on his biceps in a poor attempt to either pull away or push back from him. Mikey squeezes her waist for a moment then slides his hands lower to her hips then her bare thighs, squeezing her there. “You know you were pretty when we were younger but you’re even prettier now” He says with a sigh “you look so pretty with the weight gain—”

She digs her nails into his clothed biceps. “I don’t want to talk about that”

Mikey cocks his head to the side. “But ‘m complimenting you”

“I don’t like these kinds of compliments”

“You’re a model” He murmurs, his hands sliding back up to her waist and squeezing again “you shouldn’t have become one if you didn’t like people talking about your body”

“No one talks about my body the way you do” She says with a frown “I don’t like how you do it”

Mikey chuckles lowly. The same condescending way when he dumped her 10 years ago. “That’s not a nice thing to say to the guy that’s trying to woo you back”

“You’re not being nice in the first place. You fucking bardged in” she digs her nails more into his clothed skin but he doesn’t flinch “I promise Mikey, the ending between us will always be the same. There’s no good reason in make believing that we could ever exist again”

Mikey still doesn’t seem to hear her. He simply lets go of her waist and slides away from her. When she thinks he was getting up to leave, he surprises her by laying his head on her bare thighs instead. This was infuriating. “Mikey have you dated anyone since then?”

“Yeah” he says, grabbing one of her hands to put it in his hair “But none of them were pretty like you. No one’s pretty like you…”

She doesn’t say anything. “You don’t wanna get back together but can’t we be friends? I missed you” Mikey says, his voice barely above a whisper this time

He sounds sad but she won’t give in. This wasn’t fair. “I can’t be your friend or your lover” Her voice is a mere whisper this time “I can’t Manjiro”

Not with what he did now— it would be detrimental for her career if the public found out she was friends with Sano Manjiro, the man reining terror of Japan and the surrounding countries little by little— not with how he broke up with her, not with how he talked to her, not with the constant uncertainty of if he’d leave her once again. She wouldn’t put herself through that again. “Manjiro I can’t be the reason we hold back each other from falling in love”

She feels something wet on her thighs. 

Mikey— Manjiro is crying.

She sighs. She might as well let him stay for as long as it takes.

Just till he pulls himself together.

And hopefully, till then, she doesn’t give in.

[twilghtkoo]

gacha !

jungkook jumps nexts to you, surprised and scared at the gasp you let out. stopping in your tracks as you stare down the street, your mouth slightly open and eyes shining.

he holds a hand to his chest. "jesus babe, you scared me."

"baby, look! can we go?" mindlessly ignoring him and purely focused on the small store that caught your eye, extending your arm out to point at it.

jungkook follows your finger. "ahh, the gachapon store. that's new, that wasn't there the last time we were here in this area." he thinks out loud before lacing your fingers with his and leading you both towards the new building. you don't even want to know how much jungkook paid for these tokens that he had walked over to you with that stupid sweet smile of his and a cup full of the golden tokens.

the store was like toy heaven, walls and aisles full off gacha toy machines of many different interests. it's almost overwhelming until your boyfriend gently pushes you with a hand on your lower back, to the first wall inside.

"let's start here, take your time." it's as if this man was inside your brain and had the answers to all your problems. you reach on your tippy toes and place a soft kiss on his cheek.

"shut up, they have animal crossing keychains. oh my god, look at tom, i want him. who do you think i'm gonna get?"

jungkook predicts isabelle.

you insert the instructed amount of tokens and turn the handle til the capsule falls into place. jungkook watches with a small smile, finding you so endearing and cute that the anticipation of a capsule of random assortment of your interests has you all giddy.

"i got isabelle. you guessed right! should i try again for tom?" holding up the toy to his face so he can see the popular character of the familiar yellow dog that he's seen on your nintendo switch countless of times.

jungkook, the shopping enabler he is, tells you 'try as many times as you want, i'll get you more tokens if you want baby'.

you don't know if the universe was on your side but this fairly new store managed to have almost all of your interests in these machines. jungkook ended up having to grab your reusable bag from your purse to hold all your prizes. he wonders if you even have room for all these with your other trinkets decorating your home.

"baby, look they have matching charms." you walk over to one of the last machines, already finding the one you want. you turn to look at him with those eyes.

"would you match with me? we can put it on our keys."

he can't help but giggle at you, he throws his head back to glance at the ceiling. feeling his chest do that thing again anytime he's around you.

"of course." he tells you. don't you know by now that he'll do anything for you?

[zaine-m]

more arcane serial killer au (part 4)

The day where everything went wrong. Jayce was supposed to be out of town with his parent's that weekend

Viktor had decided to take up some experiments on one of the bodies they couldn't find a better use for. it was messy, there was blood covering the apartment but he knew how to clean it up in time for Jayce's return

But then in the middle of one of his experiments he heard a knock on the door and before he could do anything it was opening to show Jayce standing there with a bouquet of roses

His face instantly fell into horror "WHAT ARE YOU DOING" he screamed with complete terror. "Jayce, this isn't what it looks like" Viktor reached for the nearest vial of sedative and slowly began approaching Jayce

"STOP, DON'T COME ANY CLOSER" Jayce began to back up but Viktor continued, "just take a deep breath, this can all be solved"

But then just according to Viktor's haphazard plan Jayce stumbled on the top step before losing his footing and falling down the stairs

Viktor breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the ugly bend halfway up Jayce's shin, "come on, just let me take care of this for you"

Jayce was still trying to make his way down the stairs dragging his leg behind him but at that speed Viktor didn't struggle to catch up to him and administer the tranquilizer

Jayce woke up to the sound of a strange old and dry voice, he decides not to open his eyes for fear of what they might to do him, "I'll treat the leg enough for it to not get infected but he should still have residual pain from the injury and some trouble walking", "perfect" that voice he recognizes clear as day

He feels Viktor's hand on his cheek and can't resist the urge to look at him, "my Jayce, I'm so sorry you had to find out this way. But if you'll just listen you'll understand how much good I'm doing", Jayce wants to pull away or yell at him but he finds his body too weak to do either, "doing good? Viktor you were killing him"

"The bodies I procure, I use their organs to save those who need them. I've saved so many people who would have died waiting on some list"

"but you killed people"

"a price had to be paid but trust me we make the most of all the bodies we take"

"what are you gonna do to me?"

Viktor brushes the hair off from Jayce's face tenderly, "no... no... you, my Srdce* are far to precious to just distribute like the rest of them" Viktor softly holds his hand over Jayce's heart, "I have inserted a capsule I designed next to your heart. If you force me to it will severe the connection leading into and out of your heart, perfectly preserving it so it may be put into my chest after you have passed. But I do prefer it in you so please just do as I say" Viktor brings Jayce's hand up so Jayce is tenderly cradling his face

prev - master post - next

*Srdce means heart in Czech

[frandesu2]

AVENTURINE ONESHOT

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Out on a weekly stroll in Penacony, both you and Aventurine decided to visit the Golden Capsule Machine, one of the iconic landmarks in Golden Hour.

It had been a while since you had seen Aventurine in person, despite the frequent video calls and text messages you exchanged. You missed the Aventurine you could see and touch, the one who could make you laugh with just a look.

Trying out each of the lottery machines, your energy gradually drained, leaving you exhausted. Aventurine noticed and treated you to ice cream from a nearby trolley, his eyes soft with concern.

As you savored the cold treat, Aventurine watched you with an affectionate gaze and chuckled softly.

"Thanks for the treat! Now that we're recharged, it's time for the final game!" you declared, pointing towards the giant Golden Capsule Machine. With renewed determination, you inserted two Aideen tokens and tried your luck. And lost. You tried again, a fourth time, but still no success.

You pouted at Aventurine, who had been watching you with an amused smile. "You play for me!" you pleaded, handing him the tokens.

On his first try, Aventurine won the Humongous prize. Your eyes widened in disbelief.

"Wow~! Why is it that you always win!?~" you whined playfully.

Aventurine took a step closer, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, it's because..." he paused for effect, "I have my lucky charm by my side." He smirked, his voice low and teasing.

You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks at his remark. "I should have made you my lucky charm instead" you mumbled, embarrassed but happy.

Aventurine laughed, the sound warm and comforting. "Hahaha!"

'*•.¸♡ end ♡¸.•*'

keep reading to see art !

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

hope y'all like it

ಡ⁠ ͜⁠ ⁠ʖ⁠ ⁠ಡ

|| frandesu