#ever feel like this sometimes? feel unhinged? just for a bit? filled with bad thoughts?

[opens-up-4-nobody]

:-P

[psalmsofpsychosis]

(still the same anon from all those Batman/Joker asks)

Be ready with those empty walls, pal, I'm on my way!! I've already thrown my suitcase in the car and filled up the gas-

You blew every expectation I had with that answer of yours and I don't know if I'll ever recover. I will absolutely respond to your answer but first I need to put my brain back together from being rearranged like a jigzaw puzzle. I'm definitely looking forward to reading that Jesus/side wound meta whenever you post it.

Until then I have a different question. I don't remember who said it but it was along these lines: "There are only three people in the world who find the Joker funny. Joker himself, sometimes Harley and lastly Bruce. And he feels so fucking guilty for it."

They pointed out how Batman does a lot of bad puns, same as the Joker, except he does it with a straight face and serious tone. For example: Bat-terry, Bat-bucket, Bat-arang, saying "hang in there Alfred" while Alfred is dangling off a metal beam. (Those are my rushed examples, not something the original poster brought up, so if they're unaccurate, that's my fault). Bruce will also just say the craziest shit and nobody is sure if he's serious or not. (Happens all the time)

I have a vague suspicion who it was but I'm not sure enough to @ them.

Joker and Batman's sense of humour and how they are somewhat opposed but still similar will drive me into an early grave I swear. Like that post that's still circulating somwhere that mentions how Bruce "lives and dies by the fact that nobody can ever tell when he's pulling their chain" and how Joker "craves to have his comedic genius acknowledged [but he's just not funny]".

I don't know about Joker wanting to be acknowledged as funny because I don't think he considers himself to be in the clown business. He definitely ranted about this to a captured Damian in a comic once. But he does make a lot of bad jokes. Maybe he doesn't think himself funny, either?

Any thoughts?

(Btw I'm not done pestering you yet, be ready to receive an ask about the Batman: I Am Suicide comic and about Martha and Thomas Wayne in the next few days. I still have to gather my thoughts though.)

(Can I just say that every single one of your answers has made my brain release a huge amount of serotonin? Or is that too much? Eh, whatever, it's the truth anyway. You've brightened my week considerably, thank you so much!!)

❤️❤️ hi friend, i adore receiving your asks and getting to exchange interpretations with you, and i can only hope that my superturbonexus unhinged answers have brought half as much joy to you as your questions have brought me 🥰

I kinda took my time with this ask (sorry!) because it's a rather big bite out of an intricate can of bat worms for me, can included. I also found and reread this particular post by @distort-opia , which put more a dozen more interesting worms in my metaphorical can— i'm not sure though if it was the post you were initially referring to.

So! The concept of jokes and generally being a funnyman is a subjective talk, and my personal preferences regarding where Joker and Batman place on the funnyman scale deviate considerably from what the general consensus in batman fandom seems to be (or the lot i have seen of it), so i guess i'll just take this opportunity to do personal talk, probably more than usual 😂 take it all with a grain of salt! (an ingradient that you'll find this answer contains a fair bit of actually—)

I dont think Joker is funny one bit, and i dont think he's particularly trying to be in the general sense of the word; to imply that he's "funny" both in-world and on a meta level would mean that being funny is his core motivation and the heart of his actions, that it's the foundational component, and to me it's not. A bit more a matter of personal taste on my part, but i actually feel lowkey irritated with Joker portrayals that lean too heavily on the "HE MAKES JOKES HE'S SO FUNNY!!!!!" act at the expect of every other significant characteristic he has, because like, funny is not who he is, it's just one of the 500 things he does. Sure he started as a fun character meant to bring in a dash of psychopathic delight to the early Batman works, but he has evolved to become so much more than that, which i like better than the more simplistic "he's a funny fun guy!!!!" characterizations. To me Joker is not funny, he is not supposed to be the way you pour salt on your dish but it's not supposed to taste salty, it's supposed to taste /right/. His jokes aren't the main dish, they're an added flavour meant to bring home a certain act: the performance. He's a showman, he's here to put on a good show, and that show doesn't have the end goal of being "fun", it has the goal of being iconoclastic and real and raw. But he can't exactly do raw, raw and sincere scares him, in a way he's a slave to his fear and tries to cage it and tame it and understand it the way Batman is scared of bats and everything they represent and he made them his very persona. Joker tries to be true and geniune and sincere but he can't, so he infuses his actions with jokes to soften the blow, shift the taste a bit. He also has the genius' disease; he wants to be seen through, interpreted, understood and reimagined, mirrored, and it's an itch only a certain fellow fucked up intellectual can scratch for him.

Batman deeply understands the value of a good performance and a viciously planned persona, he is a performer both as Bruce Wayne and as Batman after all. And he has the expertise to dissect and bring out all the nuance in Joker's performance, it's probably why he finds him funny. He understands the theatre piece, both when it's executed in a stellar fashion and when it falls flat on its face. noone else can bring this level of discernment to interpreting Joker like Batman does because what other villains do is actually less performance and more.... outright insanity. I think this is also the reason why Batman enjoys saying the most insane shit and making weird jokes at weird times and have everyone be confused by him, it's part of the performance. There are these little almost invisible acts that Batman and Joker catch of each other, that they want to catch of each other, "i'm shaking the persona a bit", like when an actor improvises a moment to keep the role fresh, but only the people in on the script catch it, to others it feels in accordance, not off enough to catch attention. It's one of their core points of connection and similarity actually, they both have their performances and they both wiggle in its frame, sometimes threatening to break through the confines.

[celestie0]

Ellie Bear! Hiiiii..I hope you're doing well and taking care of yourself. You know getting rest and drinking lots of water. Oook so I'll try to keep this as short as possible. Since the very first time I read your work I was hooked. You truly have a way with words. Even your random unhinged posts make me laugh anddddd sometimes fill me with concern. Yeaaa I've seen some of those Gojo posts 🤨. Anyway when you posted that you had lost the saved work for Kickoff I completely understood your frustration but I knew it would be just fine because you're an amazing writer. You really are super talented. Your recent posts about this chapter feels like you're stressing a bit about it. It might not mean much coming from me but there's no need to stress. I would bet everything in my wallet...the whole .75 cents that it's gonna be another phenomenal chapter. You know why?? Because you're writing it! We're ok with waiting...anyone acting like they can't wait doesn't matter. Don't let anyone stress you about your work. Work at a pace that's comfortable to you and drop the chapter when you're ready. You've talked about asking for updates already and I'm pretty sure it's in your rules not to ask anyway. If the chapter comes out today, great! And if it doesn't that just means you're taking a little more time to make the chapter what you want it to be and that's great too. Thank you for even giving us this story in the first place. So no more stressing ok. You've got this! *pats your head aggressively but lovingly*❤❤❤

bakuhoethotski queeeeennnn u have no idea how much this ask means to meee rn 😭🥺💕 im literally sitting at my desk cryinf SJSLKDFH (but happily and with love)

tysm 😭😭 yes i think i have been so stressed ab kickoff recentyl,, i think ever since losing my notes, i just felt really discouraged and it didn’t really help me move forward,, but your words make me so happy bc u make me feel i can conquer anything i want for the story with or without my original notes n thats so encouraging for me im literally gonna reread this ask whenever i need to feel proud of myself omg u say it might not mean much coming from u but in reality it means the MOST,, im so lucky to have you as a lovely reader of my works 😭😭

and tysm for the comment ab taking extra time w the work :”) that really helped me reframe my thoughts ab the chapter. kickoff is such a passion project for me n something really close to my heart, i think that’s why i’ve been really particular w the chapters n i don’t think thats a bad thing…i just have to figure out a system that works so that i can write for myself, but also share w others

I LOVE U SO MUCHHH OMG I WISH I COULD HUG YOU BUT I HUG YOU THROUGH MY SCREEN <333 also thanks for being concerned ab my gojo posts ☺️💕 concern meaning u like them right ??? right???? ahhahahhahh (joking)

[meteor752]

Wouldn’t Jassy technically be the big sister to Hermes?

Actually yeah

If they would ever visit Empires that is

But honestly how cute would that be

Johnny in Tumblr Town, eyes sparkling because it’s the ranch, it’s the ranch, he’s home and he’s with his dads and he’s back and it’s just so wonderful, and his dads are together and the only difference is that there’s not a looming threat of the red lives anymore so life is just perfect

Meanwhile Novo is experiencing a more unhinged version of his dad, paired with the more calm version of his mom, and he don’t know how to feel about it because I imagine that Novo would never forgive his parents for their treatment of him, being so focused on hurting each other that he was left neglected by the side

Honestly Novo would probably bond the most with Oli, a slightly unhinged weirdo who’s seen as kind of a wet cat and lives off away from everyone else. He reminds him of his mom. Also Bard!Novo would be cute as heck, like him in those little hats with the feathers just askjdgajdbdjss

Liana would not thrive at all, because Empires is built on mutual trades and such, and it’s harder to scam people that way. She’d probably like Sanctuary the most though, with all the birds I mean. But yeah Liana would have a bad time

Wes would probably prefer Gobland of all places. He’s a bit of an underground person, preferring the dark of caves over the sunlight of the surface, and while fWhip would probably stress him out sometimes, he’d like the atmosphere of the cave empire

Jekiv would probably like The Evermoore the most. It’s mostly dark, it’s moist, not a lot of sunlight, filled to the brim with frogs, and has a curse about stealing your soul, something he’s not even sure he has! He’d probably be more of a pastel witch, but he’d absolutely vibe with Shubble and Tortoise, wearing oversized hats to cover his hair

I first thought Gertrude would fit in Gobland, since he’s kind of a tinkerer and she has that classic female mechanic vibe to her, but then I thought harder and realized that no, Gertrude would absolutely fit in GlimmerGrove. The classical fairytale princess vibe, mixed with monster hunter is just so very fitting to her. Especially since she technically is a monster herself, being a Werewolf, so she’s kind of a Danny Fenton type hunter, or a hypocrite as I like to call it. Also it’d be funny af is Katherine is just hunting this mysterious werewolf but Gertrude somehow always manages to miss it, like “Oh no! Dammit, well, we’ll get it next time!” just sweating bullets.

And then there’s Jassy, the new big sister. Her and Hermes are very different, him being a half god child while she’s part anime protag part ogre thing, and also her childhood was very weird since she aged kinda quickly past it and really has no way to emphasize with a child, but after five minutes with him she would immediately turn into the cool older sister, carrying Hermes around everywhere and threatening to murder anyone who touches him.

While Jassy probably wouldn’t vibe with Stratos, the whole God pantheon and islands floating in the sky not really being something she’s into, I feel like she’s like the Eversea. She was raised on a boat, she loves sailing, and every day is like an anime beach episode. Dunno if she’d get that well along with Joey, she’d probably be more of the stereotypical gay best friend and just telling him to give up on the stupid princess, but it’d absolutely be an interesting dynamic.

Now I wonder what these guys would be like on Empires s1? Hmmmmm…..

Well, a thought for another day

[quaddmgd]

Yesterday, I finally deleted my Twitter account after yet another data leak. Boss Baby's decisions after acquiring this platform made me create this blog and try to move here in the first place, so leaks were only a cherry on top.

My girlfriend helped me with moving to tumblr and the way she talked about it made me think about my social media presence in general. Of course, most users here don't need an explanation as to why tumblr is better and all that, but its merits are what exactly made think about myself.

I realized that I always posted for myself first and foremost. I had a blogspot about handheld consoles, I wrote non-profit reviews for my relative's gaming website, I even started posting screenshots on Steam with some creative descriptions and all that.

Had a short relationship with instagram, but people using it, even my close family, quickly made me hate it for how artificial the world there seems to be. If I didn't spend enough time personalizing my experience, it probably takes too long for my liking.

I got a little bit older, 18 to be exact, when I started to look through twitter. Following my favorite indie game developers and gimmick accounts - had a good time with it. The problem started when I started posting stuff.

Twitter's algorithm is aggressive, to put it lightly. Every time you post something and mention a thing, that thing will flood your feed almost instantly. That's why I would never say anything about, say, a spider I saw. While further personalization improves the experience, you won't ever get rid of things you simply don't want to hear about. On top of that you'll sure get the most liked, commented, quote-tweeted stuff imaginable - it helps with reading news, but it brings a lot of bad takes that sometimes are on the verge of malicious. That way you will never fully control what you see on your feed. Sometimes even filtering keywords doesn't help, mostly with traumas, as there are multiple ways to censor trigger words and twitter users will sure use them all.

A trivial example, but it shows just how annoying your Twitter experience can be. I bought myself a new Xbox console and posted about what I like and don't like about it. While those posts were very occasional, console war zealots from both sides started to appear in my feed on a regular basis - posts that take out all the joy I get from gaming. While I mostly posted about video games without including platforms I played on, I never got rid of console wars.

Even if you never talked about, say, us politics, you'll surely get them on your feed, you'll get notified about voting, you'll get unhinged posts from people who are famous simply for being rich; and you'll see many dramas over stuff that shouldn't matter. That last thing makes you really think about what you post. Even if you won't offend anyone, someone can always shame you for your tastes or you gushing over stuff "too much". Once I even got shamed by a self-proclaimed ✨ Rockstar Games Community member ✨ for playing Red Dead Online, accusing me of "playing it for the sake of keeping it alive".

Back to first paragraphs of this post - a rectification! I didn't start thinking about my social media presence after creating tumblr, but it made me summarize all the little thoughts and irritations that appeared in my head throughout my entire "career". After my gf introduced me to tumblr, it confirmed my belief that I used social media correctly, but, for reasons beyond the subject of this post, most social media websites have irredeemable flaws.

But I post for myself and I will gush over my V from CBP77, my RDO character, Lady from DMC all I want and I'll continue to ramble about stuff no-one will ever take an interest in. It helps me clear my head, it makes me feel fulfilled and I love reading my old posts - it's like a time capsule and, as long as I have the strength for that, I'll continue to fill it with stuff that is important to me!

P.S. As for Twitter's few benefits: I'm using nitter to follow gaming news and game developers without having an account or interacting with toxic people if I'll ever see them. No algorithm there, you have to search for people you already know - no random posts and malicious javascript stuff.

[forthegothicheroine]

The King in Yellow, 1949

Much of this story is true.  Warnings in the tags.

When I had pneumonia in my early teens, my mother brought home an armful of VHS tapes from the library to alleviate my misery.  Knowing my snobbish preferences, she had grabbed copies of whatever she found in black and white.  I remember something musical that I suspect was Busby Berkeley, I remember Mildred Pierce (a bad choice, as it turned out- the plot includes a young girl dying of pneumonia), and I remember a period piece called The King.  I faded in and out of consciousness while I watched it, but it soothed me while I was awake and filled my fever dreams with sparkling images.  I could never find it at the library again, nor at Hollywood Video or even early Netflix (once my father got the subscription service where you could order practically every DVD.)  It was a bit odd that it seemed to be so obscure, given that it starred old Hollywood legend Ingrid Bergman (and, although I initially forgot it, Marlene Dietrich.)  But even big stars make films that fall by the wayside in public memory, and it seemed that this was one of them.  Google was no help, and at the time that was that.

I didn’t see the film again until I was watching Turner Classic Movies at my grandparents’ house.  I loved watching that channel with them while filling out the crossword puzzle that came in their little TCM catalogue (all of it based on movie trivia, the only kind of crossword puzzle I’ve ever been any good at.)  I recognized a certain scene where Bergman stood on a balcony, looking sadly at the moon.  Her face had an expression of unutterable melancholy, and the crescent moon reflected in each of her eyes, giving the impression of two moons in one sky.  I had very little time to catch up on what I’d missed before we had to go meet my cousins at the local Italian restaurant.  I knew logically that the movie would be long over by the time we returned, but I turned on the channel anyway.  Of course it had moved on to the lesser known Alfred Hitchcock film Stage Fright, but then I heard Marlene Dietrich sing before I could reach the remote to turn the tv off in disappointment.  I knew that I had heard her sing before, and I knew it had been in The King.

Dietrich’s singing often comes across as somewhat campy today, with its Rs pronounced as Ws and it’s up-and-down tone.  Madeline Kahn parodied it brilliantly in Blazing Saddles, such that it was a bit of a disappointment when I finally saw Dietrich’s western Destry Rides Again and found it to be lifeless and inconsistent next to the parody.  Still, we remember her voice for a reason, and when I remembered it that night, I knew that its sardonic loneliness had rung through The King and made me shiver in my dreams.

The TCM schedule didn’t list The King in its time slot, but something else.  If I had taken down the name, maybe it would have helped me find it.  Sometimes the same movie runs under multiple names.

I didn’t see the film all the way through for many years, after I graduated college.  I had found a web page that listed public domain film noir, including one called The Masked Guest.  The website described it as a costume noir, and I curiously clicked on the link.  Once I took in the credits running on the youtube window, my eyes grew wide and I did not move from my place on the bed until the movie had run its course.

The credits did indeed list it as The Masked Guest, but I recognized the strange repeating design on the title cards.  They told me that in addition to starring Dietrich and Bergman, it was directed by Fritz Lang, and a character called The King was credited to “???”  (I hadn’t seen that kind of credit since the first Karloff Frankenstein.)  When the King finally appears on screen, though, it is unmistakably Orson Welles’s voice that booms out from behind his elaborate costume.

Here are the things I understand about The King, or The Masked Guest, or The Man in Yellow, or any other title I’ve found for it on public domain archive searches.  Dietrich and Bergman play princesses named Cassilda and Camilla, respectively.  Though Dietrich’s accent is German and Bergman’s is Swedish, they blend together to give the film the impression of being set somewhere on the map that I can’t quite find.  The scenery and camera angles are very Freudian, with a great deal of archways and pillars.

The first act of The King involves frankly dull romantic plotlines, and the only thing that really saved it was the feeling that the suitors were supposed to be insipid, a suspicion lended credence by the fact that the love interests were listed so low on the credits.  Dietrich is the scandalous sister and Bergman is the responsible one, though each takes on aspects of the other as the film goes on.  Dietrich sings her song at a party, dressed in a fake 17th century gown and leaning against a piano.  Although just a moment ago she had been laughing and joking with her gentleman friends, her song takes an abruptly serious tone (not seductive, not sentimental) as she tells the story of a city lost to time and memory.  Bergman slips away from the party and onto the balcony, where we see that wonderful shot of the moon in her eyes.  Is she mourning?  Is she longing?

Dietrich cuts off the song by abruptly screaming “Not on us, King!  Not on us!”  She flees the party weeping and shaking, and from there on the film goes mad.

Though uncommon, it is not unknown for movies to switch between black and white and color, done most famously in The Wizard of Oz.  The film The King recalls here is the silent Phantom of the Opera, which had a masqued ball scene tinted in shades of red and green that tried to provide a whole spectrum of color.  The effect is even odder in the masqued ball scene in The King- the only color that appears is yellow, highlighting things like candlelight, Dietrich’s hair, a passing gown, a vase of tulips.  It also highlights one particular masked figure, whose expressionless mask was decorated with a black pattern against a sickening yellow canvas- the same pattern I had seen in the opening credits.  The color of his costume causes him to stand out from the crown even when he is far off in the background, just one head among many others.  It must have taken long and painstaking hours of work to color in every frame.

Dietrich still seems broken up days after her song, though Bergman tries to coax her into joining the dance.  Finally, at midnight, Dietrich goes out to face the party, but only to demand that every guest remove their mask.  The yellow man with a voice that once warned America about a Martian invasion tells her that he wears no mask.  Bergman reacts with disbelief, but Dietrich starts laughing like a woman unhinged.  As she laughs, the yellow hue seeps out of the King’s clothing and face- if that really is his face- and begins to color the entire ballroom crowd.  I think that what follows is bloodshed, but if there is any carnage (doubtful under the Production Code censorship), the blood must be tainted yellow and splashed across the camera like daubs of paint.  Dietrich’s laughing face is doubled and tripled on screen until it dissipates, but even when it has faded offscreen, it feels as if her ghost continues to watch the proceedings.  

By the end of the scene (filled with German Expressionist camera angles and mad violin screeching), only Bergman remains alive, cowering behind a grandfather clock.  It does not hide her for long.  The King steps towards her and extends his hand.  Reluctantly, but with a fatalistic expression, Bergman takes his hand.  They walk away together hand in hand.  The screen shifts back into black and white, and then the credits roll before we can get a good look at all the bodies in the scene.  The credits say it was based on a play called The King in Yellow, although Raymond Chandler of all people apparently had a hand in the screenplay.

As I said, that’s what I think I understand.  It’s an oddly experimental art film for the era, and it may be awaiting rediscovery by the film festival crowd.  I feel as if I alone know about it, though that obviously isn’t true.  It is my little secret; I tell myself that my husband doesn’t need me to show it to him, it would be too odd for his taste.  I’ve rewatched it many times, even if it seems like each time I search for it I have to find a different video platform or torrent.  Naturally, no subscription site has it available.  Maybe I am the last person who will ever watch it.  Maybe no one will ever think to look for it again after me, and it will be completely forgotten.

When I was hospitalized, they let me use my laptop at night before I went to sleep (no power cord, though, in case I tried to hang myself.)  I found a youtube link for The Man in Yellow, and I watched it every night.  It wasn’t a soothing sort of movie, but having it in my mind all day and then watching it in the evening allowed me to think as opposed to crying endlessly while the other patients shot me awkward looks.  I clutched the childhood stuffed animals my mother brought me when she visited, and I always held them extra tight when the masquerade scene started.

I watched the movie when I had to move away from my beloved San Francisco.  I watched the movie when I lost the last of my grandparents.  I watched the movie when a doctor unwisely took me off my medication and I couldn’t manage to eat for a month.  I watched the movie when the whole world got sick and we all locked ourselves away from each other.  I don’t mind that I don’t entirely know what it means.  I don’t mind the nightmares.  In the hospital they kept telling us about mindfulness exercises, and maybe the fact that I can focus on every aspect of the film so closely that all else falls away is the reason I keep coming back to it.  I’m being mindful.  I’m not letting any stray thoughts invade my head.  I’m just watching and waiting for the next beat of every scene, leading inexorably to that yellow-stained bloodbath.

Streaming media doesn’t last forever, and each time I find The King, I worry that it will be the last time I ever can find it.  My efforts to download it have so far been unsuccessful, odd considering that it is in the public domain.

When I watch The King, I am once again a child in my bedroom being cared for in the throes of agonizing sickness.  I am once again sitting on the couch with my grandparents in front of the tv, both of them alive and lucid again.  I am once again in the hospital, all alone except for my stuffed animals and the staff trying to keep me alive.  The film reflects in my eyes like the crescent moon in Ingrid Bergman’s gaze.  It sings to me.

I am determined to find a way to obtain The King under any name so that I never have to worry about losing it.  During some of the worst times in my life, it is the only thing that has kept me sane.

[coffee-imagines]

First Drop

Pairing: half breed vampire Draco x fem!reader/pureblood!reader

Requested: I’m a big sucker for vampires so can you pretty please do something about Draco being a vampire and he ends up drinking from the reader

Warnings: mentions of small injuries, blood, throwing up, very heated make out

A/N: I couldn’t find exactly what vampires in Harry Potter are like so I’m just winging it with all the vampire shows I’ve seen all mashed into one, and since I’ve gotten a few comments about it I’ll start putting more specific stuff on imagines. If I have time I’ll go back to all the other stuff I wrote and fix them as well. This is a bit long, but I figured it would make up for all the headcanons I’ve done cause of school.

Summary: Draco’s true identity is only known by you

———————————–

Draco had never felt this way before in his entire life. The hunger he felt within him was one that he couldn’t put into words. His entire life he had been able to ignore this side of him. Being told he was a pureblood to then have it ripped from him was rattling. His mother tried keeping the truth from him, surprised to see no signs of his true father coming through. It hadn’t been until you visited during the summer that there was any sign of the dormant side in Draco. 

You’d both been play fighting as usual, rolling around outside on the grass while Narcissa watched over you from the front door. It only took one wrong shove that sent you to the ground scraping your palms that left little droplets of blood catching Draco’s attention. Draco couldn’t take his eyes off of your hands, and you hadn’t missed him licking his lips as well as him looking as though he was about to drool. He looked like he was about to attack you, but Narcissa shouting something you couldn’t hear left you shocked when he flew across the other side of the yard. 

Helping you clean up inside before sitting both of you down, Narcissa was muttering nothing but curses to herself. Keeping the long story short she explained how Draco was really a halfbreed vampire. You squeezed Draco’s hand reassuringly when you saw him tense up next to you. Even though they both knew you wouldn’t blab, they swore you to secrecy. You were there with Draco through it all. His cravings were never bad, and he refused to drink human blood, so it made it easier to keep a secret. That had been until today, when it seemed that not even his fake substitute could satiate his cravings. Before he lost it on any of the students he all but forced himself into your room despite others saying he couldn’t be in the girl’s dorm. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked immediately when you saw the almost pained look on his face. You stood up, walking over to him and grabbed his face in your hands making him look at you. “Draco, talk to me.” You whispered, caressing his cheek.

A surprised gasp left you when two fangs made themselves known by pushing their way past Draco’s closed lips. It seemed to shock him too, and he pulled away quickly. Narcissa made it known to only you that this would happen eventually, you just hadn’t expected it to be so soon. Both of you knowing that Draco’s distaste of the thought of actually feeding on someone made her only tell you that the substitutes would only last so long before his teeth grew in and he’d want the real thing. You promised you’d be there for him, and you meant it in every way you possibly could, even if you knew it would risk you getting hurt in the process. 

“I’m thirsty. More than normal.” Draco seethed, hugging himself making your eyes soften. 

“It’s okay.” You assured him, pulling him to sit on your bed. “We knew this was going to happen.” You muttered and shook your head.

“You knew?!” Draco exclaimed, making you jump. 

“Draco it was for your own good. You couldn’t even think about feeding on anyone.” You explained and his face showed his disgust at the mere mention. “See?” You pointed making him shoot you a look. 

“Just distract me then. I don’t want to… do that.” He explained, swallowing hard. 

“You’re going to have to eventually.” You explained softly, placing your hand on his thigh to soothe him. “It’s nothing to be ashamed o-” You tried but he shoved your hand away.

“Distract me.” He demanded through gritted teeth making you sigh and shake your head. 

“I always liked reading about vampires when I was younger you know.” You stated, both of you scooting up further on your bed to get more comfortable. 

“You did?” He asked, pulling you closer to him making you nod. 

“I never knew why I was so fascinated by them.” You shook your head with a laugh, sitting next to Draco on his bed. “I mean I found it intriguing but… to the extent I relate…” You rested your head on his arm, smiling when he seemed to pet your head.

“Relate how?” Draco asked, pulling you closer. 

“The feeding part of it…” You trailed, all the times Draco had come to you for the substitutes that you could only give him filling your mind. 

“You couldn’t possibly relate to that.” He scoffed pulling away to look down at you. 

“Draco I understand that it’s hard.” You explained, holding his face and gently caressing his cheek.

“I don’t think you do. Not with this.” He protested making you roll your eyes.

“I understand the hunger, and I definitely understand the feed.” You explained making Draco look at you with confusion written on his face. “Draco it’s not hard to understand the hunger you’re feeling. I’ve seen you drink things that remind you of blood.” You continued making Draco shake his head. 

“That’s not the same as this.” He shook his head making you scoff and sit up so you could face him. 

“So it isn’t the best most comforting feeling you’ve ever felt? It doesn’t make you feel whole? Make you feel like you’re filling the emptiness that you have inside of you?” You asked, making Draco’s shoulders tense up a tad. “How about when we warm it up sometimes? You basically drown yourself in it.” You taunted, and Draco’s mouth was watering at the thought. “You’re going to tell me it doesn’t feel good to have it warm your insides that feel cold? I see it, Draco. You love being greedy with it. Love the warmth coating your mouth and throat while you basically chug it until it’s all gone.” You continued making Draco’s chest rise and fall quicker. 

“I need it.” He croaked out, pushing you a bit further from him. He wouldn’t admit he’d been thinking about feeding even before the hunger came. Wouldn’t admit that the only person he ever wanted to do it with would be you. 

“It’s not going to work anymore.” You shook your head giving him a sad smile. “Not the way you need it to.” You said making his stomach churn. 

“Well you have to let me try.” Draco pleaded, but you shook your head. “Y/N please.” He tried again and you sighed, nodding before you stood up. 

“If it works I’ll keep giving it to you, but if it doesn’t…” You explained handing him the bottle.

Without another word Draco all but ripped it open, almost unhinging his jaw to guzzle down every last drop. You watched with curiosity, hoping that it would work. When Draco finally lowered the bottle you both smiled at each other. Relief was on his face for two seconds before a pained look took over and Draco reached for your trash bin before the entire contents of the bottle had come back up. 

“No.” Draco almost pleaded softly while he hunched over. 

You rubbed his back, not saying anything. You didn’t know what you could say to make him feel better, the only you knew would help he wouldn’t like. Before you could open your mouth to finally say something Draco shrugged you off and grumbled all the way out of your room. Half of the day went by before Draco returned to your room. He’d looked even worse than he had that morning, and he couldn’t stand it anymore. 

“Draco you can’t fight it anymore. It’s just going to get worse.” You sighed making him grumble next to you. 

“I don’t want to feed on someone. That’s gross. I don’t even know where they’ve been.” He explained making you scoot closer. 

“You know where I’ve been.” You whispered, putting your hand on his. “Let me help. You can feed on me.” You tried soothing him with your thumb rubbing his knuckles, but it only caused him to stiffen and almost jump to his feet. 

“No! Absolutely not!” Draco yelled, making you flinch in surprise. 

“Why not? I’m offering, you don’t have anyone else who can do it. I promised I’d be here for you and I am not going to break that promise now.” You stated firmly, making Draco’s eyes narrow. 

“You know I don’t want to feed on anyone.” He explained making you roll your eyes. 

“Enough is enough Draco. Please.” You rubbed your temples before looking at him. “Stop being a child who won’t eat their damn vegetables. You need this okay? It’s not something you can avoid anymore. We gave you all the time we could, but you have to accept the truth now.” You explained. 

“You’re comparing yourself to a vegetable?” Draco hissed making you shove him. 

“You know what I meant.” You scolded. 

You watched Draco slowly sit back down next to you. You held your breath, waiting for him to hopefully say he’s and put himself out of his misery. Your hand reached out before you could stop yourself, but you pulled it back last minute so you wouldn’t pressure him. He let out a sigh, wiping his face before looking over to you. 

“It’s supposed to feel good right?” Draco asked nervously. 

“I don’t want to lie to you. It’s in everything I’ve read, but so many people say it’s a myth. I’m not sure.” You explained, becoming nervous when he inched closer. 

“If it hurts I’ll stop.” He explained and you nodded. The closer he got, the faster your heart beat and you held your breath. “I-if it really does feel good.” Draco started with a shaky breath, his hand coming up to hold your face. “I want to make you feel good before it, so maybe you won’t realize…” He explained, his voice wavering while he caressed your cheek. 

“What?” You breathed out, staring into his eyes. You didn’t know if it was from the way he was touching you, but you felt like you couldn’t understand anything that was happening. 

“You’ll see.” He whispered, leaning in before pulling you in for a passionate kiss. 

Draco’s lips moved against yours slowly and your eyes fluttered closed and started moving in sync with his. It wasn’t long after that his tongue was running across your bottom lip making you part your lips slightly. Instead of his tongue exploring your mouth like you expected, he pulled your lip between his teeth and gave it a small suck causing you to moan into the kiss. He pulled away slowly, and you couldn’t help but lean forward to follow him. Your eyes fluttered back open and the look of hunger on Draco’s face had become more evident than before. 

He brushes his lips against yours before placing a small kiss on the corner of your lips. You couldn’t help the small smile that formed on your face when he started kissing down your cheek and to your jaw, nipping gently. Your breathing was coming out in pants, your hands coming up to hold onto Draco’s shoulders. Your nails dug in when he started sucking and you let out a moan when his teeth grazed your sweet spot. 

You’d expected him to go for it right there, but a whimper left you when he only continued to suck harshly on the spot. Draco had completely forgotten about feeding due to all of your noises. He couldn’t help but want to make you feel even better. His tongue flicker over your sensitive skin and you pulled him even closer. 

“Draco.” You whined when he started sucking below your ear. 

He hummed against your skin, kissing his way back down your neck, and that’s when he froze. His nose was brushing right against your pulse and the hunger seemed to hit him full force. His heart started racing, and he almost ran out of the room. He never wanted to feed on anybody, yet here he was about to sink his teeth in your neck. He wanted to run, but he couldn’t get himself to move, instead he held you tighter and pulled you closer. Without another though he let his instincts take over. 

“Oh Merlin.” You cried out when his teeth broke skin and he held you in a death grip. 

Your head lolled back as a moan escaped you, and Draco let out a small possessive growl while he continued to suck greedily. Despite his grip on you, your toes were curling at the feeling that was going through your entire body. Your breathing was coming out irregular, whimpers leaving you when he seemed to bite harder. 

“Draco.” You mumbled when you felt yourself become lightheaded. Your hand limply came up to grab his hair, and you gave it an unsuccessful tug that was merely you running your fingers through his hair before you held on. “Draco.” You whined, trying to move out from under him, only to earn you being pulled closer. “Draco stop.” You pleaded, and he finally seemed to hear you. 

“I’m sorry.” He breathed heavily, pulling away from you, looking down at you with a guilty look on his face. “I got carried away I guess.” He rubbed the back of his neck, and you couldn’t help but smile. 

“It was your first time, it’s okay.” You explained, letting your hand lazily come up and wipe the blood that was falling down the corner of his mouth. “You’ll just have to practice.” You whispered, your eyes going wide when he pulled your thumb into his mouth and licked the blood clean. 

“Yeah… practice.” Draco nodded and pulled you in for a small kiss before he stood up. “Get your rest. I’ll bring you something to eat and drink.” He kissed your forehead gently before leaving your room without another word. 

———————————–

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[djarinsbeskar]

Busting into your ask box to share some...

I forgot what I was saying. Something about “broad.”

Well, my love, I take no responsibilities for my actions here on out—my brain and all sense were destroyed earlier in the day because of this ask.

What did we say Din embodies? Large and in charge? Oh, he most certainly does.

He’s a solitary man, Din—used to being answerable to only himself. It’s not an easy habit to break, living by your own set of rules and not having to consider anyone else. But he tries for you, of course he does. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t slip back into his old ways sometimes…

There was that one time you thought you could bait a quarry...

Din had flatly refused to consider the idea, there was no way—no fucking way he was letting you do it. Not only was Din massively territorial – the mere idea of some lecherous criminal putting his hands anywhere near you setting his blood to boil – but you had been in danger once before because of him, and it still left a bad taste in his mouth whenever he thought about it.

But fuck, this asshole was as slippery as they came. Eyes and ears everywhere—this was the fourth planet Din had chased them to. The piece of bantha shit always had an escape route, always escaped the minute Din entered one of the shady cantinas he favoured. He’d rather break his streak of capturing every bounty though, than put you in his line of sight.

He told you as much, felt a swell of pride at the colour it brought to your cheeks and the speechlessness it inspired.

But he mistook your shocked silence as agreement.

He was wrong.

You were sick of Din being in such a rotten mood because of the wild goose chase this quarry had led him on. You were wasting time parsec-hopping and the sheer price of fuel to fund such a chase was beginning to make this contract onerous. But more than anything, Din Djarin hated losing.

He was crankier, surly in his impatience while you travelled through hyperspace to follow the tracking fob. You were quiet frankly, over it. You knew from the minimal information he had dropped whenever he returned, empty-handed and frustrated—that the quarry had a fondness for women, could be tempted to linger longer than he would usually deem safe if he had the attention of a pretty one.

It was reasonable then that you offered, and Din hadn’t even considered it.

More the fool him, you thought.

So, when he saw you… gorgeous and alone at the bar of the cantina, the very bounty he had spent two months hunting slithering from the shadows to sidle up to you plain as day, his jaw had dropped from his own shadowy cover when he saw the quarry had only come closer because of the delicate crook of your finger.

Din swallowed.

He knew you intimately enough to know what real desire looked like clouding those intelligent eyes, but even still, the sultry droop of your lids—the parting of those lips he dreamt about all over his body, it made red fill his gaze and blood roar in his ears.

You were his.

And when the bastard dared to run an unwelcome hand far too low on your back, he was behind you. He didn’t miss the lack of surprise in your expression, nor the true darkening of your gaze as he towered over you both, his bulk blocking any other view but him.

His helmet was tipped towards you.

He didn’t even look as he pulled his blaster out to shoot the bounty as he retreated, collapsing in a heap in the middle of the cantina. Dead or alive had never been a sweeter deal, even for less pay.

“Man—”

“Anyone touches that body, I’ll know,” he snarled at the barkeep, who startled and was quick to nod despite looking as menacing as any of the clientele the place was known for.

“Mando—”

He didn’t let you finish, again. Instead, he grabbed you by the arm tight and dragged you outside--- the monsoon like rain instantly drenching you and bouncing off Din’s armour, the slight tinkling sound drowned out by the sheer heaviness of the rain itself.

No one sane was out in this weather, holing up inside until it passed as it was wont to do—pouring quick and intense. Only you two.

So when he pulled you off the path into the alley beside the cantina, you were already soaked, the tepid rain cooling you and making you shiver before a thigh slammed between you thighs and unforgiving beskar pressed firm against your core.

“What did I tell you on the ship?” he growled, a hand closing around jaw hard, tipping your head up far enough to look at him, “You’re a smart girl, don’t tell me you forgot?”

Your hands – still mercifully left free – tangled in the cowl of his cape as you fought his dominance, even when you both knew you loved it, “I got results, what does it matter?”

A thrill of arousal soaked your underwear further at the feral noise that bubbled deep in his chest, the sudden sting of his hand coming down on your ass making you gasp before the pleasurable ache that followed had you rocking on his thigh subconsciously,

“You forget who the fucking bounty hunter is here along with your manners, kitten?” he pulled his hand back from where it kneaded your ass to spank you again-- pushing you further up his thigh with the force of it, the sound lost in the roar of rain that still spilled from above. This time, you couldn’t stop the moan that escaped you.

“On your knees then,” he muttered darkly, releasing your jaw to drag his hand down your throat—pausing, pressing just slightly to feel the swallow you took, “put your mouth to use if you’re not going to answer.”

You couldn’t have refused him if you tried, the primal urge to roll over—to submit to him overwhelming you along with the strength of his thigh beneath you and the power that radiated from his chest under your hands. Your knees hit the ground easily, eyes hazy with lust as you looked up at him—hands greedy as they made to undo his fly.

But Din wasn’t playing fair today, no--- you had undermined him, gone behind his back, put yourself in danger. And by Malachor, he was going to make sure you never did it again.

He swatted your hands away with a rumbled, “hands behind your back, kitten,” and once they were secure, he undid his fly himself, releasing his painfully hard cock and stroked it in front of your face for a few moments until he heard you whine his name,

“Open.”

You kept your eyes on his visor the entire time, stubbornly trying to maintain the smallest bit of control over the situation even as your lips parted, and your mouth opened for the leaking head to settle heavy on your tongue.

You sucked his cock the way he directed you to, silently thrilled at the commanding tone and immovable control he exerted,

“I said no hands, kitten--- don’t even think about touching yourself…”

“That’s it… that’s it, you can take more---”

“There’s my good girl, it’s not to hard to listen to orders, is it?”

You mewled around the throbbing length of him, nails digging into your palms to control your gag reflex as he pushed against the back of your throat but the unhinged moan he released because of it made every tear that blurred your vision worth it. You swallowed around him and he tightened his hand in your hair,

“Fuck… fuck, so good…” his head fell back on his shoulders, the expanse of his neck seal—fitted tight around the thick tendons and tanned skin you knew was hidden beneath made you whimper and rub your thighs together, desperate for him in a deliciously edged way you hadn’t experienced before.

He was being selfish, to prove a point—but beyond the point he wanted to prove, it was turning you on.

He didn’t warn you when he was about to cum, instead taking you off guard as he filled your mouth with a rasp of your name—your surprised noise smothered by his cock before you greedily swallowed down everything he had, your tongue working over his sensitive head when he withdrew enough to give you air.

You actually whined when he pulled back completely—wanting him back again already.

Din chuckled, husky and low and beautiful in its timbre as he braced his forearm against the wall above you, his free hand cupping the back of your head significantly more gently to coax you up where he pressed his helmet to your forehead, a gloved finger brushing the side of your mouth where some of his release had escaped.

You looked wrecked, and he hadn’t even touched you—that alone satisfied the beast inside him that growled to take you, mark you, conquer you. For now.

“Do not go against my decision again,” he cupped your cheek, infinitely comforting and expressing far more than his words ever could, “not about bounties, understand?”

You didn’t like being told what to do—at least, not always. But you knew he spoke from a place of care, so you nodded, giving in at least about this, everything else? Well, he had known you long enough to know that wasn’t going to happen.

He seemed satisfied nonetheless, “Good. Now, help me drag this piece of bantha shit back to the ship. We have a long night ahead of us, kitten.”

You blinked owlishly at him, and you could hear the smirk in his voice as his hand tightened possessively at the back of your neck,

“I still think you need a few lessons about just who is in charge here.”

[shoutogepi]

Something to Think About

Todoroki Shouto

word count : 2.0k

[ ☀︎ fluff ]  

themes : tooth rotting sweetness & domesticity

bio : You surprise Shouto, and he surprises you right back.

author’s note : alright so this might be a day late but i’m gonna pretend that it’s still father’s day :))) happy father’s day daddy icyhot <3

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🅂houto is in the kitchen. Contrary to popular belief, he knows how to make more than just soba. Well, at least you hope it’s not soba that he’s making. If that’s the case, it’ll be your fourth meal of cold noodles this week. His back is to you, eyes concentrated on the cutting board atop the marble countertop beneath him, scallions crunching as they’re sliced through with precision.

“Baby?” You start, lingering by the kitchen island with your hands behind your back.

Shouto turns to look at you, a small smile forming on his lips at just the sight of you. He places the knife down, wiping off his slender fingers on the towel strewn over his shoulder. “Hey, love. Didn’t hear you come in— you just get home from work?” He says as he closes the space between you two, hands itching to be on you after not having seen you all day.

Nodding with a hum, your arms wrap around his neck, melting into his broad chest. You can feel the firmness of his muscles through his thin t-shirt, and you grin as a feeling of completeness washes over you. Just simply being in your husband's arms after a long day makes all your worries fade away, his embrace like a gentle tide lapping at you, and cleansing your shore of the stress that is littered there.

Taking his face in your hand, he leans down to press his lips to yours, the metal of your wedding rings cool against his warm cheek. His kiss is soft and sweet, and as you part, he sneaks another peck onto the corner of your mouth. “How was your day?” He whispers, a hand wandering down to splay his fingers at the top of your pants, dipping underneath to press the tips of the digits into your skin.

“It was good,” you answer honestly, leaning back to lock eyes with his stunning gray and cerulean gaze, “but much better now that I’m home, with you.”

Shouto chuckles, stealing another swift kiss before he pulls away, his voice deep and full of affection. “You are so cheesy, my love.” He turns back to the cutting board, the scallions protesting as he finishes chopping them.

Taking a seat on one of the stools at the island, you bite your lip, hands going to fumble through your purse. Where is it… you know you put it in here somewhere…

Your husband throws the end of the stalks into the compost bin, washing the onion juice off his hands at the sink in front of you. His eyes take in your movements with curiosity, and he winks at you when you catch his gaze.

Finally your fingers find the tip of the envelope, and you beam as you slide it out of the confines of your bag. “Hey! I have something for you,” you giggle at the thought of him opening your gift, even if it’s nothing grand. Holding out the envelope to him, he cocks his head to the side as he takes it from you, coming to stand diagonal to you around the island counter.

Shouto doesn’t really know what to expect, though from examining your beaming expression, he’s not fearful to open it. So he does, smirking at you as he rips the blue paper, watching the excitement radiate off of you before he looks down at the card.

Happy Father’s Day!

His heart stops.

Brain going blank, lips parting as his jaw unhinges slightly. And then, his mind is shooting out a million thoughts all at once.

There’s only one reason why you’d be giving him a Father’s Day card—

You’re pregnant?!

You— and him— you’re going to have a baby?

He’s going to be a dad?

And you, you’re going to be a mom?

You’re going to have his baby?

There’s going to be a baby?

A thousand emotions swirl and burst in his chest, like wild, explosive fireworks lighting up a night sky. He feels like he can’t breathe, like the ground has fallen in underneath him, and yet he’s floating here, stuck midair.

“Open it!” You instruct eagerly, completely unaware of the barrage of thoughts that have just pummeled the poor man.

With shaky hands, he opens the card, his lungs completely still as he holds onto his breath, unable to speak.

Thanks for being the most paw-some dad there is! Love, Beans

Shouto nearly collapses as he realizes that the card is supposed to be from your cat. He lets out a trembling breath, eyes frantically flickering over the card again, and again. Just to make sure.

Just to make sure.

“It’s funny, right?” You laugh, blissfully ignorant of the rollercoaster Shouto feels like he’s just been thrown onto; one with no safety bars or seatbelts that demands he holds onto the handles for dear life.

“Y-Yeah.” It slithers out of him, barely even audible. His throat is dry, chest tight as he tries his best to put a name to the hollow feeling inside of him right now.

You look at him in concern, reaching out to rub the side of his arm. “Hey, are you okay?” You murmur, confused as to why his mood would suddenly flip like this. “I’m sorry Beans couldn’t think of a better pun, she’s not very creative y’know?”

As if on cue, Beans enters the kitchen, tail straight in the air as she rubs her head against your ankle, and then her flank on Shouto’s leg.

Jostled out of his consuming thoughts, he reaches down to scratch behind her ear for a moment, brow furrowed. When he stands back up, he makes his way to the stool next to you, sliding into it before he places the card on the counter, and takes your hands in his. His thumbs rub over your knuckles, but he remains silent, lost in thought again.

Craning your neck to get a better view of his pensive expression, you squeeze his hands gently. “Shou?”

At the sound of his name, he locks eyes with you, and for the tiniest second, you swear you catch a distant sadness there. He squeezes your hands back, a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes forming on his lips. He takes a long, deep breath before he speaks. “I’m fine, love. I just— I think I misunderstood at first is all.”

You look at him, bewildered, your mouth opening. “Misunder—” It’s then that your eyes go wide with shock, darting to the front of the card before landing back on him. “Oh my god, Shouto— I am so sorry. That must’ve scared the shit outta you,” you groan, slipping a hand from his to cradle your forehead in shame. “I am so stupid, I can’t believe myself.”

“Hey,” he cuts in, warm fingers wrapping around your wrist to pull your hand away from your face. When your eyes meet his, your stomach bursts with butterflies at his determined expression. “You’re not stupid. It was a cute idea… The execution was a bit questionable, but y’know, Beans isn’t the brightest.”

You smile half-heartedly at that, and Shouto takes your chin in his palm, long fingers stroking your jaw.

“I won’t lie, you did scare me,” he says in a gentle tone, looking at you with sincerity. “I was completely frozen for one whole second. And then, I… wasn’t.”

Licking your lips, you place your hand on his knee, trying to understand where he’s going with this.

Shouto’s looking at you softly, thoughtful eyes peering into you. “For those few seconds, I thought that you were pregnant. And even though the thought initially scared the shit out of me, I don’t know— I… I felt…  excited.”

He’s watching every change in your expression carefully, trying to gauge your response to his words. He takes in your eyes widening, your lips parting in shock. The two of you have talked about this before, about if you’d ever want kids. And at the time, you’d agreed that you both wanted a family, sometime in the future. But that was years ago now, before you were even engaged— it seems like it’s been forever since then.

“I’m not saying I want to jump into anything blindly,” Shouto hurries to find the right words, fearful that you’re thinking he expects you to instantly be ready for such a commitment. “I just mean that, if you were to get pregnant… would it be such a bad thing? I know we said we’d wait to have kids, but that was a while ago, and… now’s as good a time as any, right? You just got promoted, crime is down so my hero work is more steady. I love you, and I know you love me— our home would be the best environment for a baby; full of love and support. I know you’d make the most incredible mother. You’re the only one I can imagine doing this with, my love.”

His heart starts to thump against his ribs when you smile at him, your eyes looking a little glassy. “Shouto,” you whimper, words failing you.

He squeezes your hand again, thumb brushing over your cheek. “You don’t have to say anything, angel. I don’t mean to spring this on you, I just… I needed to tell you. Because for those ten seconds, I felt like I was truly the luckiest person in existence. I already am the luckiest, because I have you. But the premise of you carrying my baby, I— it just filled me with so much joy.”

There’s a brief pause before you force yourself to speak, and it comes out more like a croak. “I don’t even know what to say...” you whisper, tears gathering along your bottom lashes.

Shouto smiles at you, his own eyes misty as he wipes away a tear that runs down your cheek. “Say you’ll think about it, love. Give it some time, we’re in no rush. It’s just something to think about, okay?”

You nod, feeling choked up all of the sudden. The idea of expanding your family had been on the back-burner for so long; now that Shouto’s brought up the reality of it, you’re emotional. And excited, too. “Okay,” you sniffle, pulling on him until he brings you into his lap, shuffling you into his warm embrace. Nuzzling your face into his neck, you breathe him in, trying to steady your rapidly-beating heart. “You smell like onions,” you complain with a watery laugh, fingers curling into his shirt.

“Yeah, sorry,” he chuckles, moving the cooking towel off his shoulder. A large, warm hand runs up and down your spine, his lips touching your forehead delicately. “Some strong scallions I was cutting,” he remarks.

Leaning back, you can’t stop the grin from splitting your lips, your fingers reaching up to wipe the lone tear that escapes despite his best efforts. “I love you,” you murmur, nose touching his as you go in for another kiss.

“I love you too,” he mumbles against your mouth, lips warm and slow on yours. A hand wanders down to rest on your stomach as you kiss, his warmth seeping through the material of your blouse.

You smile against his lips, heart full and nearly bursting at the seams. So he wants to have a baby, huh? Certainly something to think about. Though a part of you already knows that you won’t be stuck just thinking about it for too long.

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

.

.

sorpriseeee!! look guys, i can be soft! and no i didnt write this to clear my conscience of the sin from last night whaaa 

i know i rarely write sfw things but idk i’ve been thinking of expanding into fluff and angst lately too (not sayin it’ll always be sfw LOL) so, please let me know if you enjoyed!! <3

➥ masterlist 

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

[hopeswriting]

I meant to do a post about my thoughts on the Daily Life Arc now that I finished rereading it, but I can't seem to find the time and it's been a while now, and if I keep it up I'll forget what my thoughts are to begin with lol, so here's the long story short:

I know it's a long arc, as in it starts being boring and more or less unbearable past some point, because the "gag of the chapter" format only takes you so far, and not actually very far if Amano's humor doesn't work on you much, if at all. I don't think it's an arc you can reread right away/soon either, lest you feel that one flaw even faster.

And I felt it too, starting with the fourty-something chapters I felt like it was dragging on too much, though to be fair that probably had to do too with the fact I knew things much more interesting were coming after that.

Still, all that said, like, it's an enjoyable arc. Amano's humor happens to work on me, and she does it really well, and I liked reading the arc. There are some chapters where you're really asking yourself why they were written for lol, but even then you read it for the characters, and it somehow keeps you going.

And like, even though I think Amano could have seen the fact the comedy was going to turn repetitive and thus boring at some point, and try to diversify it or something, it's just how comedy/humor/gags works? Some jokes land and some doesn't, but for me at least a lot more of them worked than not.

The DLA is a good enough arc is what I'm saying.

------

On than note and on the contrary, of course it's fine if you think it's a bad arc, to each their opinion, but personally I really don't agree it's an unnecessary one.

I'm saying this because apparently it's not uncommon to advice new fans to skip the arc and directly start with the Kokuyo one? (Or so I learned on TV Tropes anyway, this might or might not be still relevent/accurate.)

Now don't get me wrong, the DLA does fail to hook the readers to the story for the reasons stated above, I agree with that, but it literally introduces the main character? And all the other characters, and gets us to know them, and establishes the dynamics between them and why they're the way they are, and, though only in a more or less superficial manner (and more than less) by design of the arc's purpose (not being deep in any way lol), it still gives us an insight into the characters and why they're the way they are. A glimpse into the core of their personality, the "stakes" of their characters, the flaws they have to overcome.

And all that in the context of their daily life, so if you skip it to go directly to the arc that challenges them, you can't appreciate fully how they rise to the challenge, how it shows their growth or reasserts their core values. You can't know how much or what it means, for example, off the top of my head, to have Yamamoto sacrifice his arm to beat Ken, when only a year ago he tried to kill himself over his broken arm. Or Hibari losing against Mukuro, thus telling us how much of a real threat he was. Or Tsuna screaming at Lancia for having hurt his friends, anger on his face, clearly despite himself, that Dame-Tsuna.

All these just wouldn't hit you the same, and it'd be such a shame? I mean I guess the ones who start with the Kokuyo arc go back to read the DLA, or you could compromise like the anime did by splitting the DLA between more serious arcs, but like I said I personally don't find the DLA that bad, so I still wouldn't advice it lol.

Even if, I suppose, it'd mean they might give up on the manga somewhere through the DLA, but like? Some mangas just don't speak to you, and that's fine, and it'd be a little of a shame from my POV as a KHR fan, but still, no big deal.

------

I'm still very impressed with how smoothly Amano went from a gag manga to a shonen one, and how she made it so the DLA still fits with the rest. I mean the sudden change in tone/stakes/etc is jarring, sure, but it's all based on stuff she introduced in the DLA, which she presumably came up with with no intention to ever make it something deeper/more meaningful.

It's easy to believe the foreshadowing, and generally speaking the worldbuilding was planned all along, which, again, probably not, and like? Super impressive.

(Though once more don't get me wrong, there are inconsistencies/plot holes in Amano's plotlines and worldbuilding, but not, like, at their seams, if I can say it like that? It's more often in the details, and it's fairly easy to fill in the blanks ourselves.)

------

Finally it was a lot of fun to rediscover the characters in a new light, and a bit of a disbelieving surprise tbh.

For context before I started my reread of the manga, all this time I was going with the time I read/watched it years ago plus the times I skimmed it, but mostly by all the fanon I was consuming. And it's not to say fanon is wrong per se, but it latched on one to three character's traits, or slapped an easy character archetype on them easy to "relate" to within, and apparently never looked back lol. And also often dialed up those traits (good or bad) in a very noticeable manner.

What I'm saying is, fanon is, in fact, wrong sometimes zldnslsz, and the characters are much more nuanced even in the DLA! (Which still leaves us at a more or less superficial level, because, you know lol, but still!)

------

To name the ones that stood out to me the most:

Nana isn't abused by Iemitsu, nor is she unhappy in her marriage despite Iemitsu being an absent husband (which is not relevent in the context of the DLA, but still, you can tell). She isn't an abusive mother to Tsuna either, and she is literally never an airhead. She literally just isn't, she actually does react very normally to the crazy Reborn brings with him, but much like Yamamoto as long as no one gets hurt (or walks it off), she just brushes it off.

And she has friends she goes listen to piano recitals with, and tries to save on money by eating rests, and gets in two-way arguments with Tsuna, and raises his allowance if he gets better grades to push him to work harder, and all around is just your average mom that really didn't read as just The Mom, if you know what I mean.

She has her flaws, definitely, she's not a great mom, namely is apparently used to call Tsuna Dame-Tsuna, but she's not just that.

She takes care of him, worries over him, and seems to be the only one who hasn't given up on him yet when the story starts. She supports him (though sometimes in a tactless to hurtful way), praises him when he does well, and trusts him to watch over the kids.

She's not that bad is what I'm saying, and 100% redeemable (that is, if you think she needs to be redeemed to begin with, which I actually do think she does, calling Tsuna Dame of all things is just a really shitty thing to do.)

(Though it's interesting to note that she doesn't do it again after what happened with Kyoko iirc, even if she might very well still talk to him in a belittling way at times. I just wish Amano would have commit fully to acknowledge it and resolve it, what with already having made it Kyoko's Dying Will Regret.)

(Edit: I had forgotten but she literally forgets his birthday while preparing someone else's birthday, so I take back that she is 100% redeemable because it's being too nice. But my point still stands.)

------

Haru is literally such a fun character, it makes me even more sad now to know what Amano did with her (nothing ansknslq 😭😂).

She's unhinged, has zero impulse control, does not reflect on the consequences of her lack of impulse control as Tsuna points it out, is ready and willing to throw hands at any given moment and is unapologetic of it, and is the one Amano actually calls an airhead.

The only problem she had with the mafia is that she thought Tsuna was forcing it on Reborn, and when she confirmed it was all true she literally didn't even blink at it, and immediately called herself the future Decimo's wife djosdkkd.

On that note she is literally mafia right from her first appearance, is more or less involved in almost all the mafia shenanigans, was right there with Tsuna & Co when they went to destroy the Tomaso's headquarters.

And like?? Amano could just have left it at that if she wasn't going to do anything else/more with it. Haru had so much potential, and not only Amano did nothing with it, she actually watered her down and took away all her distinct character's traits 😭.

------

Hibari is so much more feral and playful than his fanon cool, overpowered, quiet badass counterpart. Which I love too, don't get me wrong, but these two sides of him don't have to be exclusive!

He talks and smiles and jokes often, and shows off and casually insults you, and licks the blood away from his lips after having beaten bloody other middle schoolers who dared to defy him (I know this happens in the Kokuyo arc, but it illustrates my point the best).

Not much more to add than that, we should just acknowledge that and put it in our works more often.

------

Gokudera is a compelling character from the get go, and as far as the DLA goes, he's the most compelling character second to Tsuna. He's the only one to actually have flashbacks and a backstory. And what stood out to me the most that I don't see often in fanon, is that he's really a good friend.

Yes he has a short fuse and snaps easily and is easy to anger, but he's not always angry. And is seen having and being capable of positive exchanges outside of Tsuna (I'm thinking Yamamoto namely, who's made with Ryohei to be the one he gets angry with the most).

And yes he holds Tsuna on a pedestal and sees him through heavily tinted pink glasses, but even through that he's earnestly a good friend. And tries his best, and is hardworking and overachieving, so much so he messes up without meaning to, but he only ever has honest, straight-forward good intentions behind it all (well, maybe not always lol).

I love him a lot more now is what I'm saying.

------

And Tsuna. I'm not sure I'll be able to articulate my thoughts properly, but like... he's just your average teenager. Which of course is his whole thing, and I'm saying it in a very not judgy way whatsoever, but he's often made to be at least a little more than that, namely about his bullying.

Like, it's kind of dramatised in fics? And I'm not going to elaborate on that more because it might come out wrong and I don't want that, but it's just, like—canonically he is just bullied, simple as that. Like many other teenagers are.

And it's all in a "chill" way (for unfortunate lack of a better word, I don't mean to trivialize bullying at all, it's wrong and unfair and never deserved or okay, just so we're clear), and by the time the story starts Tsuna is used to it and has given up fighting against it, and actually finds refuge and a twisted comfort in embracing his Dame-Tsuna's monicker, because at least he's not gonna hit rock bottom deeper than that if he does.

And I'm not actually going anywhere with this, it's just? It hit me how differently canon and fanon portray his bullying.

Back on the note of him being a (below) average teenager, Tsuna is not an uwu pure cinnamon roll too good for this world.

He's literally so quick to judge and criticise, whether in his head or out loud when he knows more the person (namely Haru lol, poor girl), it was actually a bit of a shock tbh lol. He snaps easily, and is lazy, does not want to try even one bit, and is happy to run away from his responsibilities whenever he can.

And not only I'm not saying that in a judgy way this time either, but I'm actually saying it in a good way. He really felt like your average middle schooler, and it was so refreshing to see. That, plus the fact the narrative never holds it against him, let alone punishes him for it even if he's made to grow out of these traits, and it's literally part of his character arc, is kind of unique for the shonen genre (maybe, I'm not exactly a specialist of shonen mangas lol).

And I can see why you'd want to change it in fics, but personally I think it really makes his character's arc even more meaningful.

[miraculous-anna]

ML Writing Prompt: Confidence, Man

would anyone read a fanfic where like say,, Marinette is just on patrol as Ladybug, Chat Noir isn’t there for whatever reason, and she stumbles upon a like an archaeological  building. One of the men working there wave her down, and ask her to come in, they have something to show her. She goes in, asks what they need, and they show her a necklace they found that seems to be magical. They think the necklace is possessed or something, and who else to take care of it then the magical super heroin saving their city, right? 

Ladybug takes the necklace, goes home, and shows it to Tikki. Tikki says there is magic there, and it does seem to have certain miraculous (ha) properties. As the guardian, Tikki thinks Marinette should keep it on her person to ensure nothing happens to it. The necklace itself has a mix of Tikki’s magic and Plagg’s magic mixed into it, but Tikki can’t remember ever seeing it before. She thinks having it close may help decipher where she saw it before, or at least remember ever enchanting a necklace, of all things.

So, Marinette decides to just keep it on her person, for example, at first she keeps it in her purse with Tikki, so if something does happen, Tikki can use what powers she has as a kwami to contain it. (Tikki assures her its a good plan, as Marinette spent a good two minutes spiraling over it.) 

Later, she starts wearing it as a necklace, and that’s where things get interesting. She starts hearing this voice in the back of her head, it starts out super quiet. It only pops up when she needs to make certain decisions. The first time she was stuck between deciding on either making Alya a dress for a dance, or taking Jagged Stone’s offer to introduce her to a fashion magazine known for promoting up and coming designers. The voice says things like, “be selfish, take the offer.”, “Alya has other dresses, you don’t have to make her the 10th one this year.”, or “do the interview, it’s a one time chance. Alya wont die over this. She’s your friend, she’ll understand.”

Marinette compromised and gave Alya a dress she already made, only needing to loosen a few straps. 

The voice keeps speaking, sometimes more louder then others. She explains this to Tikki, who claims she can hear the voice as well. Tikki suggests sometimes listening to it, it offers good advice. Tikki says, yes she needs to be selfless, but Marinette takes it too literally.

Eventually, Something happens. Marinette does listen to the voice, and in the middle of the night, she’s back from patrol and there’s a light coming from the necklace. She left it behind in a hurry to face an akuma earlier that day, not thinking to bring it with her once she returned home. She’s suspicious, cautious, and scared. What’s wrong with the necklace? 

She’s answered when it floats, and with a blinding light, her and Tikki are met with a girl her age (yes, she’s assuming on that part, she looks the same age as her. NOT her fault.) standing in front of her, holding the necklace in her hand. 

The girl has chest length curly brown hair with blonde highlights, wearing a uniform that looks similar to Kagami’s, but with black leggings going up to her knees. She wears a choker with a crescent moon, and she’s smirking when her eyes settle on Marinette.

She was on the floor, the mysterious girl probably thought it was funny. The girl introduces herself as Anna. She’s tied to the necklace. The voice Marinette heard? That was her. She explains she’s a voice of balance. One of many results of creation and destruction combining. If the wearer is too hard on themselves, or has no confidence, she lifts them up, fills that void. If they’re too cocky, too unhinged, thinks the best of themselves a little much for it to be healthy, she pegs them. It’s harsh, but it creates balance. Her purpose, if you will. Tikki remembers, finally. It was a result of her and Plagg first falling in love after being materialized with the miraculous. There were many, though almost none survived for long. 

Marinette decides to let Anna stay, but she says only Marinette and other Miraculous’ can see her. (Others, only while suited up. Her, and other kwami, at all times.) 

She helps with Mari’s confidence.  

She definitely helps with Lila, and her class. She convinces Marinette to focus on herself, not Adrien, Alya, or her class. Anna wants Marinette to be the best person she can be, and there are things holding her back. Anna’s job is to get rid of them. 

IF you wanna take a more.. bad, route. Maybe Anna’s a bit more manipulative then she lets on. Maybe she has alternative motives, maybe she has feelings for our heroine, so she convinces her to rid herself of her selfish, and rude classmates, I mean, Mari can do better than them! That’s why Anna was there, right?

_______

This is just a little self indulgence Marinette prompt lol. I’m tired of her being put down and hurt all the time. Yes, she has her flaws, but the show pretty much bullies her. She really doesn't deserve it, I made Anna up to help with that. This can be a ship fic, or not. Just,, no Adrien ships on this. Her crush on him isn’t very healthy, and i’d rather she end up with someone who loves Marinette, not her alter ego. But otherwise have fun with this!! I wanna see what people come up with! But please, please credit me if you write a fic for this :)

Happy Writing!! 

EDIT: I changed the name for the prompt, probably so it’d be easier to find. And i added another tag called, “mlb confidence man au” so it’s easier to find in the search 

[jadoue1999]

Wanda and the life she deserved (she’ll make sure of it) Chapter 5

Summary: Wanda fixed the slip up, her husband was safe and her brother was at her side. Everything was good, but using that much magic has to come at a price.

Previous parts: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, chapter 6, chapter 7, chapter 8, chapter 9, chapter 10, chapter 11, epilogue

Chapter 5: Consequences

Wanda woke up with the worst headache of her life. And being a former Avenger, that was saying something. The consequences of her actions in both the barrier and her brother definitely took a toll on her. Were magical hangovers somehow worse than normal ones? A wave of pain coursed through her head.

Yes, they were.

She covered her face with the covers, the darkness doing little to lessen the pain. She heard her children running up the stairs, barging into her room complaining about their game. Wanda barely heard them, she just needed a moment to collect herself, to keep her many regrets out of her mind. After getting no response, the boys asked each other if she was awake, to which she assured them that she was simply resting her eyes.

The sound of a door opening in the hallway distracted the twins. They looked at their uncle in stunned silence as Wanda removed the cover from her eyes. She shared a look with her brother silently pleading him to give her some alone time. A quick nod confirmed his understanding.

“Alright boys, time to go downstairs, let’s give your mom some space. She needs it.” Pietro said as he led the twin downstairs, Wanda could vaguely hear Billy saying something about his head being noisy. Pietro shrugged his comment aside, challenging them to a video game fight instead. The hurried footsteps and the giggles that followed confirmed their agreements with their uncle’s proposition. Finally finding the strength, she pulled off her bedcover, only to realize that she hadn’t even changed out of her costume before falling asleep.

She put her hands on her face in exasperation, trying to get a hold of herself. The extensive use of her magic and guilt over what she had done was catching up to her. She mentally braced herself as she slowly sat on her bed, ignoring the dizziness and nausea that suddenly hit.

I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine

She changed out of her clothes, not even attempting any magic in fear of aggravating her situation. Wanda looked through her closet, not really caring about what to wear. She settled on sweatpants and a dressing gown. After hastily tying her hair in a low ponytail, she went downstairs, her stomach letting her know it was time to eat. She was barely aware of the concerned looks her sons and brother were giving her, all she wanted was a bowl of cereal and for her headache to go away. She took her milk carton and went to get the cereal box, she paused in confusion as she noticed the carton had changed. That’s not right, why did it change? Expanding the barrier couldn’t have drained her that much, could it?

She smelled the content on her spoon, hopefully it wouldn’t change by the time it reached her mouth. She reached for the carton but accidentally knocked it off counter. Thankfully, no mess ever reached the floor, Pietro sped over and grabbed the milk and quickly put it in the fridge. As he closed the door, he looked at her sister with worry in his eyes.

“You okay, sis?”

“Yeah, just, rough morning,” reassured Wanda.

Pietro looked at her, unconvinced, but let the subject drop. He sat on the couch, suddenly interested in the twins’ game. He started telling them tips at superspeed, which only Tommy could follow, as Billy tried his best to make it without them. After a rather short game, Tommy won, and the boys went silent as they watched Wanda walk over. She could feel Billy’s question before it even reached his lips. “Mom, where’s dad?”

Even though she saw it coming, she didn’t really know how to answer. Wanda didn’t want to worry her children, but it was certain they had noticed how tense they had been with each other in the last few days.

“I- uh,” she started, hoping a sentence would string itself by the time she was done. When none came, she simply sighed and sat down next to her twin. “I don’t know,” she confessed. She had meant to stop there, but the worried look of her kids pushed her for an explanation. “Look, here’s the thing boys, I’m your mom and you expect me to have all the answers, right?” Alright, good start. Keep going, just tell them you don’t have the answers, no need to get complicated. Their worried head nods made her continue. “Well, I don’t!” She let out a laugh, earning her a weirded-out glance from her brother. “I have... no answers!” She could feel all three boys wanting to interrupt, but she wasn’t finished. She couldn’t stop rambling; it was like her mouth was being possessed. “Zero, zip, zilch, nada, niente.” Way to reassure them, now even Pietro is worried. She stopped herself, realizing how unhinged she sounded. “You see, since your dad and I... don’t get along as well, for now. I’m starting to think that everything is... meaningless. Nothing truly matters because at the end of the day, it’s all just a big pretend... you know?”

For a few seconds, nobody moved. Wanda kept mentally smacking herself for worrying her boys so much, that’s not what they needed at all. They looked at her with fear and concern in their eyes, their mouth slightly agape in shock. Thankfully, her brother intervened.

“Woah, a little dark there, sis?” Pietro turned to his nephews. “I’m sure your dad’s fine, he probably even went to get you boys an apology gift for missing the night yesterday!” The twins looked at each other in excitement as the promised gift was mentioned. Seeing how they were getting better, Pietro continued, “speaking of last night, how about we see what kind of treasure you kids got, uh?

Without letting them finish, he sped upstairs. Tommy and Billy shared a panicked glance at the possibility of their candies being stolen and were about to join him, but a knock at the door stopped them. With a snap of Wanda’s finger, the door opened, letting Agnes in.

“Hi, Agnes!” She greeted her, not even turning around to look at her. “I’d get up, but I just don’t want to!”

Her neighbor paused as she took in Wanda’s state, clearly wondering what to do. She looked at the twins, silently asking how long she had been like that. When they simply shrugged, she gave a concerned smile to Wanda, looking around for something to say. The redhead couldn’t understand all the fuss, she just needed a day off, why were they all worried?

‘You’ve never given up before,’ interrupted her mind. She mentally smacked that thought away. Sure, she had always pursued, but she had never fixed her world before. It took a lot of concentration, of course she needed a day to recharge.

‘Putting your alternate universe twin back under mind control certainly didn’t help.’

She ignored that remark, Vision wasn’t there, apparently having had his fill of her magic, couldn’t she at least have him?

“I’m surprised you guys didn’t stop me, especially with such an amazing- “Pietro stopped in his track as he spotted the newcomer. He froze in place, probably wondering what to do now that she saw him appear, seemingly out of nowhere. Agnes seemed shocked too, but her surprise was short lived as she eyed him with a grin. “Well, hello! I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced,” she held out a hand, “I’m Agnes, your neighbor to the right, my right not yours!”

Pietro hesitantly chuckled at the joke, taking her hand with uncertainty. Muttering some greetings, he walked back to Wanda as Agnes was still looking at him, a glimpse of... something in her eyes.

‘Oh, come on, Pietro was way too young for Agnes. Plus, wasn’t she married?’ Wanda pushed her thought aside; her neighbor was probably wondering when he got there. She got up, at least wanting to be polite in order to do introductions.

“Agnes, this is my twin brother, Pietro, he arrived two days ago.”

Once again, an awkward silence crept over the household as she sat back down, only broken by the occasional crunch of Wanda’s cereal. It was Agnes who eventually spoke up.

“Wanda,” she said, in a concerned tone, “do you- do you need to be alone for a bit?” The redhead looked at her, shocked she’d even suggest that. The woman raised her hand in front of her in surrender, showing she didn’t mean it as a bad thing. “I wouldn’t mind taking the twins for a day, and I could use your brother for a few reparations Ralph keeps putting off.”

Agnes didn’t wait for an answer, taking both of the boy’s arm and leading them to her. Tommy and Billy protested, but Wanda confirmed that it would be for the best. As her neighbor started to leave, Pietro sat down next to his sister.

“I’ll stay here for a bit,” he declared, surprising both Wanda and, apparently, Agnes who pressed her lips together in frustration. He turned to the neighbor who was halfway out of the door. “I’ll come later for the repairs, but my sister needs me for now.”

With a sharp nod, Agnes was out of the door, leaving the Maximoff twins alone once again. Pietro turned to her and sat down. He removed the now empty bowl from her hands and put it on the table, taking her hand in his. With eerie similarity to the night before, he looked at her with concern.

“Are you okay?”

...

Notes: So, Agatha has the twins and has an interest in Pietro! I've changed the dialogue to fit my story better while keeping the original meaning. Also, Ralph in my story doesn't exist; it's the *never shown but always mentioned significant other* trope shows sometimes have.

[jimbotnik-fanboy-smh]

Hello there! Can I request a Male Reader x Robotnik where Robotnik wants to slow dance with their reader for the first time and eventually have the reader get their first kiss from Robotnik?

Of course!! This is!!! So cute!! :))!!Warnings: none. There are none. It’s all fluff. I guess there are a lot of repressed feelings and mabye some repressed homosexuality.Male!Reader!!

---[+]--- It had been a while since you’d been hired by one of the biggest, strangest tech lords in the ‘’fantastic’’ united states of the great America. Of course, this was.... Sarcasm. You didn’t really like it in the USA. But, it was whatever. The Doctor wouldn’t exactly let you leave. He made sure to have you by his side at all times. For some reason. He was always either stoeic, or absolutely unhinged. So you made sure to keep him calm. His actual name was Ivo, but he wouldn’t let you call him that. It was all Doctor and Sir and Dr. Robotnik. Weird names for a weird guy, you assumed.  But, of course, there was something that ruined this otherwise... Normal-ish assisstant job. You were sort of into The Doctor. Aka your boss. He was just... Your type. Tall, lanky, a bit nonsensical, dark eyes, a bit dark in general.... Kinda evil. It wasn’t your fault that every single movie villain was so goddamn sexy. You sighed, looking down at the tray you were holding. God, sometimes you felt like a butler. Honestly, you didn’t really mind, but... Whatever. You quickly knocked on the door, hearing a muttered ``come in....`` from the other side of the metal sliding door. It opened, and you walked in, giving the Doctor a quick smile. ``Your lunch, Sir. I got your red bull, that one chicken salad you requested last time, a ham and cheese sandwich and some painkillers.`` Your posture straightened up the second you walked into the room, and your voice became more clear and proffessional. You had learned from many run-ins with him that being meek wouldn’t make him happy. He’d just tell you to pin yourself against the wall and lecture you on the importance of standing up for yourself. Usually followed by a sort of sad look from him, and then being thrown out of his office. So yeah.... Best to stay proffessional.  ``Just leave it on the table, Agent.`` The Doctor replied, clearly busy with something. He waved a gloved hand toward a messy table, and you held back a sigh, seeing the mess of old plates, utensils and old cans of redbull. You moved it all out of the way as best as you could, placing the tray down. You could feel his eyes on you. Strange. Usually he’d be much too absorbed in his work... You looked back, seeing him fiddling with his hands, leaning on his workstation. ``What are you working on, Sir?`` You asked, seemingly snapping him out of his thoughts. He shook his head, turning back to his work, looking at it for a moment. You walked up behind him, looking at the work. It was messy. Just a clump of wires and a red eyeball looking thing. You shot a worried look over at him, and he seemed to flinch a bit, straightening up. ``It’s... Not important.`` He answered, waving the thoughts away with his hand, the leather squeaking slightly as he curled it into a half-hearted fist. You walked back to the table with the tray with a light smile, starting to pick up some plates and such, looking back at him. He was looking at you. His eyes were set... A bit lower than usual. You were probably just imagining things. This wasn’t about you anyways. He seemed.... Really out of it today. And not the normal sort of out of it that he could usually get into. He seemed... Nervous. ``Wait. Agent. Set the plates down. I have a request..`` You did as you were told, placing the plates down and folding your arms behind your back, calmly looking at him. ``I’m all ears, Sir. I’m here to help after all.`` You said, giving a light chuckle. For a second, in the bright glow of the floating screens, he looked almost... Embarrassed. Shy, even. God, you needed to stop imagining things. He was probably just going to ask for an extra sandwich or something. But why would he be so nervous about that? Something had to be going on. ``Well.... I was wondering if you.. Perhaps. Wanted to... Dance. With me.`` He said, grabbing a peice from the unfinished robot, fiddling with it. You didn’t even notice the suprise on your face before Ivo jolted a bit, tossing the peice. ``Augh- Forget it. Forget it. That was an idiotic question. You’re... free to go.`` He said, whirling back to his creation. You could tell he wasn’t actually working when his hands started moving. He was just tearing the thing apart. ``Sir I-`` You started, taking a deep breath. How could you possibly make this sound proffessional at all... ``I would love to have this dance with you.`` You slowly said, reaching out your hand as you moved a bit closer. Ivo turned slowly, looking down at your hand blinking. You gave a smile and a slow, encouraging nod. He took your hand. He actually took it. The leather of his gloves felt soft against your hand. It felt nice.. You pulled him in a bit closer, smiling up at him as you took the first step of a dance you learned long, long ago. Before any of this. He sheepishly followed along, learning the pattern of the dance just as quickly as you had hoped. You brought him in a bit closer, feeling how tense he was. His shoulders were pulled up so high, they damn near touched the top of his head. You brought up a gentle hand to his shoulder, and he seemed to flinch just a little before slowly lowering his shoulders. ``Relax, Doctor. You’re doing amazing.`` You muttered, smiling yet again, rubbing your thumb against his shoulder, drawing small circles with it. Slowly, you closed your eyes, starting to hum a gentle melody, syncing it up with the steps of the dance. This seemed to relax him a bit more, and somewhat helped his rythm. He really couldn’t focous when he wa nervous and you knew this. So it was your job to make sure he was relaxing. You figured you were doing a pretty good job. Plus, he didn’t need to know how much you were enjoying this. You leaned in, resting your head on his chest, feeling his hand shyly drift down to your waist. That made you shiver... He must’ve noticed. You could feel his heartbeat pick up ever so slightly. Different music started flowing through the lab. The same song you’d been humming, but it was the actual version, the one with instruments and shit. Not just you, humming aganst your Boss’ chest. You looked up, and Ivo was smiling. You smiled back, laughing lightly as you pickd up the pace, causing him to trip a little. A mischevious laugh escaped you, and he laughed aswell, pulling you in. ``Oh, you’re getting it now, Mister.`` He said, his voice teasing and filled with a mischeif that was highly unusual for him. Before you could reply, he was spinning you around, leading the dance. He was a really good dancer, and you knew, but you didn’t know he could dance like this. You barely even thought he liked other people, much less dancing with them. But here you were, laughing as Ivo spun you around, bringing you in before spinning you again, Sometimes the dance slowed down a bit, but there was always a sense of humour to it. Always a whirring sense of energy in the air. Up until the song ended. He spun you around, dipping you down as the last note hit. You gave a laugh, calming down a bit, slowling your breathing. It was quiet for a bit, nothing but the two of your catching your breaths. Then you looked up at him. At his face. At his eyes, hiding behind those dark, intimidating glasses. And you saw him. Fully saw him. Not as a two-sided coin of either manic energy or stoeic nature, but as the complex being he always had been. He looked so much.. Smaller now. Tired. Nervous. Just like you.  You slowly brought a hand up to his face, hesitantly removing his glasses. he let you. His eyes were greyish, a little darker than you would’ve thought. You met his eyes, and knew what was going to happen. You had both been waiting for it for so long.... He hesitantly moved in, and you closed the gap, feeling him melt as he brought you up to a standing position, pulling back a bit. ``I..... Thank you. For the dance.... And.... That. I’ve never.... Done that before. It was.. Enjoyable. You’re good at it.`` He said, awkwardly coughing as he turned to look at the screen, his face almost entirely flushed. You gave a light laugh, turning his face and gently pressing your lips against his. He melted yet again. What a big softie... ``You’re not bad yourself, Sir.`` He gave a chuckle, bringing you into a light hug. ``Please... Call me Ivo.`` ---[+]--- Wowa wowa!! Uhhhh Mad pogz, Ig??  Honestly, I just love writing soft Botnik, and this was perfect. Thank you so much for the request!! I hope this scratched your Jimbotnik Fluff itch!! #jimbotnik #dr robotnik #fluff #x reader #x Male!reader #dancing #slowdancing #fanfiction #sonicmovie #thesonicmovie #jimbotnik x reader #jimbotnik x Male!reader #dr robotnik x reader #dr robotnik x male!reader

[eveeot7]

𝕊𝕡𝕖𝕒𝕜 𝕐𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕗- 𝔹𝕋𝕊 𝕀𝕕𝕠𝕝 𝔸𝕌 𝔽𝕒𝕟𝔽𝕚𝕔

-𝙾𝚗𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝟻/𝟷𝟸 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜(𝟻𝟿.𝟷𝚔)

-𝙿𝚘𝚕𝚢 𝚅𝙼𝚒𝚗𝙺𝚘𝚘𝚔/𝚃𝚊𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝙺𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝙲𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚌

-𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏, 𝚂𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚗, 𝙷𝚞𝚖𝚘𝚛, 𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝, & 𝚂𝚖𝚞𝚝

-𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚑𝚢 𝚂𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝙿𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚓𝚒𝚗 & 𝚂𝚘𝚙𝚎

-𝐔𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32407504/chapters/82087075

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞 - "𝓐 𝓜𝓪𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓸𝓯 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽 "  I 𝐄𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐭 I

He quietly closed the door behind him, already identifying that Tae was in the little kitchen by the little hums he did when he was happy. ‘Well that’s a good sign.’ Jimin felt some relief already to the tightness in his chest.

“Good news,” Tae’s voice was lovely and rich, and always made Jimin’s heart skip a beat even after all these years. His upper body was bent in the fridge facing away from Jimin as he spoke. “I found some juice. Bad news is, it’s pineapple juice.” Jimin moved closer, standing by literally the tiniest breakfast bar he’d ever seen in his life, his hand lingering on top of the stool that was stationed there.

“Who the fuck drinks just pineapple juice in the morning, or ever for that matter?” Tae righted himself, sniffing at the opening of the glass container he had found, likely assuring himself that his assessment of it’s contents was correct.

“What’d ya get Ko-” Tae paused when he finally turned to see Jimin standing there with his mouth pulled into a tight closed mouth smile, looking very much like a child you just caught sneaking out of time out and trying to act cute to get out of trouble.

Tae’s mouth immediately formed into sassy duck lips, his eyes narrowing at him.

‘Still mad I see.’

“Good morning, Jimin-shi.” Tae finally said, eyes still narrow and voice dripping with attitude. He turned back away from him digging around in the cabinet next to the fridge for glasses. Jimin couldn't help lingering on how lovely Tae looked in that olive color, his insides softening at the idea of their matching sweaters.

‘So formal,’ Jimin snickered to himself, lifting himself up onto the stool and swinging his feet that now didn’t touch the floor. ‘Ouch.’

He smiled radiantly at Tae’s back, and then his attitude covered face as he turned with glasses to face him again. “Good morning, my love.” he cooed sweetly at him, leaning against the bar.

Tae hummed with a straight and unimpressed face, still watching him as he set the two glasses down on the bar. He saw his face soften infinitesimally as he took in the scene below Jimin’s eyes, and clench his jaw slightly before turning his attention to pouring the juice.  

‘Damn, I thought I covered it.’ But Tae, as always, was very observant to the subtle changes in Jimin. It was one of the things he loved fiercely about him, that he never had to say because Tae always knew.

Except for now, he needed to say it now.

“I’m sorry, TaeTae,” Jimin’s soft and strained voice broke the silence between them. Tae’s whole body stilling after he finished with the first glass, eyes trained on the counter. “I wasn’t thinking, I didn’t even consider the consequences of my actions. I didn’t even consider how it would make either of you feel. I’m so, so sorry baby.”

Even though Jimin felt desperate for the reassurance of Tae’s forgiveness, he was fighting hard to not collapse into a full bow and beg for it. He wanted to respect and give Tae whatever space he needed to forgive him. He knew that such a display would get the result he wanted, but inauthentically, and that is not what he wanted from Tae now.

“I hate it when you think with your dick.” Tae finally muttered, sliding him the glass he had filled.

“Me too really,” Jimin laughed, “-it always makes the worst decisions. Do you remember what’s his fucking face in Germany?” He leaned eagerly over the counter towards Tae as he started to snicker at him. “ God, my dick is a stupid slut.” “A very stupid slut.” Tae giggled as he poured his own glass, pausing again with his expression turning more thoughtful. “I’m sorry too,” He looked at him, frowning slightly. “I’m sorry I got so mad with you. I genuinely thought you were trying to tell him to fuck off in the shittiest way.” “Tae, I would never intentionally hurt either of you. You know me-”

“I don’t” Tae interrupted him, “-not this week. You’ve not been acting like yourself, you’ve not been my Jiminie.”

“How have I been acting?” Jimin looked back to the counter, his fingers drawing circles across it. “Scared.” Tae stated matter of factly, and Jimin felt the pain of truth again. “Like a cornered alley cat.”

Jimin hummed back at him, he had nothing to say, Tae was right as he usually is.

“And that’s not you, not my Jiminie.” Tae said, fondness flowing into his tone bringing Jimin’s attention back to his expression. Tae peered at him through his dark thick eyelashes over the top of his cup, definitely wearing his bedroom eyes.

‘Fuck.’  Jimin shifted on the stool, trying to compensate for the instantaneous ache that the look in Tae’s eyes always gave him. Tae was coming for blood with that expression, mixing it tactfully with possessive language and Jimin could feel himself coming unhinged.

“My Jiminie,” Tae licked his lips slowly after finishing his drink, “-is fearless,” He breathed.

Jimin wanted to melt across this counter and let Tae’s capable hands mold him however he fucking wanted him in this moment.

“I’m sorry,” he said, barely more than a whisper, desperately trying to focus on the conversation they were having, feeling like innocent bystander trying to ignore the homosexual dumpster fire of an imagination roaring in one the open tabs of his hedonistic mind.  

“Are you ready,” Tae’s low sweet voice stirring his insides like hot tea, “-to admit that you like him. Not just that you want him, but you like him.” He raised a singular eyebrow at him. Jimin pouted and turned his head away from him, he wasn't playing fair today.

“Did you have a good time yesterday,” Jimin took a large drink of the juice, wincing slightly at it’s bitterness.

“God I forget sometimes how fucking stubborn you are.” Tae sighed, pouring himself another glass.

“Yes, yes I did actually.” Tae filled Jimin’s glass when motioned for him too. “It was the best first date I’ve had since ours.” Jimin raised both his eyebrows, trying to swallow quickly and hold back his shit eating grin.

“Date!?”  he breathed, leaning himself up off the stool over the counter towards Tae’s lovely blushing face.

“Yes,” Tae said after buying time, drinking more juice, filling his glass again and not looking at Jimin a single fucking time.

“He’s said I could call it whatever I want… so I’m calling it a date.”

Jimin opened his mouth to speak more, his expression painted with the desire to tease Tae, but Jungkook stumbled in through the door. So, Jimin resigned himself to leaning back onto the stool, staring knowingly with sass-covered daggers into the top of Tae’s head as he stood still avoiding eye contact with him.

Jungkook bustled into the kitchen, a large paper bag under each arm, his black matching sweater straining against all his muscles as he moved. Jimin uttered a silent prayer that he never realized he should probably get a size up in all his clothing. “Good morning Jimin-shi.” His voice was bright and cheery, if he was upset about yesterday he gave nothing away. He smiled at both of them, his eyes definitely lingering on Tae’s blushing face for a moment, before setting the bags down on the counter next to the fridge.

“I see,” he turned to face them and leaned against the counter. “You found juice Hyung.”

“Oh yes,” Tae said as he suddenly remembered there was juice in front of him, he quickly filled the third glass he had selected and passed it to Jungkook who accepted with a small bow. “It’s pineapple though.” Tae said with a small apologetic smile.

Jungkook paused with the glass to his lips, then smiled as he drank it all in one go. His eyes finding the almost finished container on the bar and looking at it clearly amused by something.

“What?” Tae pitched his brows questioningly.

“You know,” he licked his lips before unleashing a devilish smile at them both, his eyes still on the empty container.

“They say, pineapple juice makes you ... taste sweeter.’

Both Tae and Jimin looked blankly at one another, then their gaze shifted simultaneously down to the same container Jungkook had been looking at. Jimin bit his lip as the realization finally set in, and Tae picked up the container swirling the remnants around the bottom. “Well..” he said simply, sending Jungkook cackling and Jimin slinking to the counter in a fit of silent laughter.

Find the Full Story on AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32407504/chapters/82087075

Follow me on Twitter & Tell me your favorite part so far!! :

https://twitter.com/EveeOT7

[giantroboticplatypusbutt218]

I finished watching Loonatics Unleashed and I have Some Thoughts. I guess this is like a part 2 to the other post I made about the show so yeah.

I swear I don’t intend for everything I write to be an essay but whatever. It’s all under the cut. No massive story spoilers, but I will talk about episodes and will warn accordingly. (But who actually cares about being spoiled on the plot of Loonatics Unleashed?)

Alright so I finally figured out why Ace has laser vision. ...It’s kinda dumb but it’s because rabbits eat carrots(in cartoons). It’s... a reason at least. Still kinda sucks that it’s his only power when everyone else got 2 and some change. Kickass swords don’t count, even if they are magic. Seriously; Transformation. Duplication. Imitation. Tons of other “ation”s. They could’ve leaned into his trickster side but no. He eats carrots... so he got laser vision. Also he only ate carrots like three times in the show so wtf...

Okay so the pacing... improved somewhat in season 2. Don’t get me wrong there were still problems in some episodes but at least they learned how to build the stakes until the climax. They still sometimes went from zero to eighty after the opening credits, but at least it wasn’t zero to a hundred. Much less whiplash was had is what I’m saying. 

I don’t think I really mentioned the villains before but they’re uh... generally not very good. They’ve got cool gimmicks but most of the time they’re just two stereotypes and a cliche in a trench coat. Season 2 brought back classic anthro characters to be villains a few times, and while they still weren’t well written and just referenced old bits half the time... at least they weren’t dehumanized humans. 

I also don’t think I mentioned the animation so... it’s fine. It’s got cut corners but all cartoons do. Sometimes fight scenes look cool, sometimes they’re stiff. Sometimes the slapstick is well timed, sometimes it’s not. Sometimes the facial expressions match the voice acting, sometimes they don’t. Speaking of voice acting, it’s good. There’s not really anything stand out to perform in the first place but everyone does a good job with what they have. 

Okay random note before getting deeper into things... the intro themes were... not good. I swear the first song ended on a note that it wasn’t supposed to. The second song fixed that but added people announcing the characters which... is just worse to me. Not much else to say because I skipped them after the first few times. 

(Very mild spoilers for the general plots of episodes past this point.)

Ace and Lexi improved a little in the second season, but I still find them kinda bland. Ace still just feels like zero calorie Bugs Bunny. His wit is confined to being the leader, snarky comebacks, and some decent sleuthing skills... and that’s really it. He doesn’t really play around with the villains the way Bugs would. Ace was also supposed to have an arc learning to use his magic sword which... didn’t really happen. Lexi’s defining trait outside of her powers is still that she’s “the girl” which... sucks... Uh... she upgraded to Gamer Girl in the second season which while neat, amounted to nothing outside that one episode. At the very least she was never kidnapped for more than 5 seconds?(That “honor” goes to Zadavia) They also never really brought up their backstories in a meaningful way again, which sucks. 

I still like the rest of the team. Slam got an episode about wrestling that built on his backstory and was fun to watch. Duck discovered that his egg powers work differently in water which was neat and matched him being a waterfowl.(Lexi’s powers work differently in water too but it’s never brought up again). Rev is still Rev and I still love him. He got an episode about his family and struggle to impress them(specifically his parents) despite his career choice which was also neat, but I will be coming back to this episode later. Tech is also still Tech and I also still love him. But uh, every character and also me wanted to see him get out of the lab more, and then he got like a nibble of an episode to get out of the lab, and then the show was over. Oof.

Speaking of Tech, it might be for the best he hardly ever left the lab because his powers are... possibly way too effective against all the robots and machines the team fights. Now, him being “overpowered” could’ve been used as a fun writing challenge. Robot goons aren’t a good option for villains anymore. Fighting against him in a city filled with metal is harder. Villains can’t rely on simply killing him thanks to his regeneration. Fight scenes including Tech would have to be handled in a fun and interesting way. But... no. In a team with two tech guys, the one with super speed and flight comes with while the one who can control metal and literally can’t die stays behind. Oh well. Doubt they could’ve added him into more fights without accidentally dumbing him down anyway. 

Oh crap I forgot to talk about Zadavia! Uh... she exists. She’s the team’s boss who sends them out on missions. Uh... I can’t talk too much about her without spoiling what little overarching plot this show has, but just know that she’s neat, but affected by the usual sexism going on in the show’s writing.

(Character and episode spoilers past this point.)

You know, for being The Loonatics the main cast wasn’t very loony. You know who were though? Basically all the villains. Yeah I don’t wanna go there but oops here I go anyway. It’s pretty messed up that all the main characters’ zany traits were dialed down, while the defining feature of practically every villain (besides their stereotypes)is that they’re insane. I mean, if you’re looking for good mental illness rep in The Looney Tunes you’re gonna be disappointed, but at least in the shorts almost every character was a little unhinged and a bit of an asshole, making none of them stand out for those traits specifically. 

Also messed up is that a lot of the villains are disfigured and made fun of for it by the main cast. Hot take of the century, but I think making fun of people for having a big head or only one eye is... bad. Oh and if they’re a woman then they’re also judged on how hot they are. Actually all women in the show are subjected to sexist writing. I remember like one episode where women were treated with a sliver of respect for a split second and that was in the obligatory “the cast comes across an island of amazon women” episode. However since most of the time was spent painting them as villains until the “actually sexism is bad” ending, there was hardly a moment of reprieve from the bullshit if a woman was on screen. 

I’m not the best person to speak on this but uh... it’s fucked up that since literally every notable human is a villain, all the people of color are bad guys, right? Like, obviously it’s not as bad as some of the shit the old shorts pulled, but that’s like saying getting punched is not as bad as getting stabbed. It’s true... but I’m sure most people would prefer neither. 

And here’s where I bring up that Rev episode I mentioned earlier. Rev’s parents are racist against coyotes (cartoons sure love to make carnivores allegories for black people don’t they?) and obviously with Tech E. Coyote being his close friend, that causes trouble. ...Right? Uh, no. They say some racist crap to Tech, and that’s it. There is not even an attempt to correct their behavior from anyone. It’s just treated as some unfortunate quirk. In fact the episode’s conflict actually revolves around Rev’s brother, Rip. Honestly, I doubt that they could’ve handled a decent “racism is bad” episode anyway. But they could’ve also... just not brought up racism if they couldn’t handle it? I’m sure having no racism topic at all would be better than having Tech just take the parents’ racist bull crap lying down and then help Rev impress them with an invention he doesn’t get credit for. Also at one point Rev says if Tech wasn’t a coyote and a guy he’d kiss him, which has two uncomfortable implications, but this section is already too long. 

(Spoilers end here.)

Overall... yeah the show’s not very good. Of course it wasn’t. It was always going to be a little garbage. And no not because of the darker style or strange setting or any of that superficial crap. Team dynamic shows are popular and with Teen Titans doing so well WB probably thought they might as well shove out a 2 season Looney Tunes version to grab a little more cash, probably minimizing the budget to squeeze out as much profit as possible. If anyone working on the show was passionate about it, I doubt they had the budget or time to act on most their ideas. 

Still, there were things to like. There are some funny jokes throughout the show, a few of which even managed to come out of Ace’s mouth. Danger Duck was literally just Daffy and he’s always great. Ironically, Rev and Tech were the most fun to listen to, and also to watch interacting in general. Slam didn’t do much but was a sweetheart who deserves success. There managed to be some decently twisty twist villains, if only because Disney ruined my brain with their ceaseless and lazy attempts at them, and I wasn’t looking out for them in this show. And, while almost nothing was properly developed, at least the concepts and characters are fun to think about?

I can’t say I’d recommend this show to everybody, but uh... if you’re a Furry with low standards and too much free time like me, maybe you’ll like it? Just go in with low expectations so when nice things happen you’re decently surprised. 

[annewritesfic]

Happy Endings Don’t Exist

y’all i’m so attached to this au-

anyways! based on chapter 58 of cress by marissa meyer!

tw: discussion of blood, violence, chess has a pretty gorey nightmare in the first section (you can skip the first few paragraphs and pick up at “Chess opened her eyes with a gasp” to miss it), blades, pain medication, mention of attempted murder/murder, hallucinations

word count: 2275

In Chess's dreams, she was being chased by a wolf.

She was running through a field of crops with thick mud that sucked at her shoes, fog soaking her jacket and leggings, her lungs burning and her eyes stinging and her heart thundering. Dry leaves crunched underfoot, quickly being swallowed by the mud, and something in the back of her head dimly registered that she was being chased through the sugar beet fields on the Benoit farm back home. Even as she thought it, something began to glow in the distance - the lights of a farmhouse. Her house. The house she’d grown up in, the house that had always been safe and warm. If she could just make it to the farmhouse, then everything would be okay.

But no matter how hard and fast Chess ran, the farmhouse didn’t get closer. It almost seemed that for every step she took, the farmhouse was three steps farther away. She might’ve been running for hours or days or months or years, but the farmhouse got no closer. Eventually, the fog closed in and swallowed the farmhouse, the warm glow blinking out of existence.

She tripped, landing on her hands and knees with a shout of pain, mud sticking to her clothes and caking her braid. The damp wetness soaked into her bones, making them ache from the cold. She looked up, and just a few feet away was the wolf, crouched low to the ground, eyes flashing with hunger and anger. Her hands desperately searched for a weapon on the ground, something, anything, as the wolf got closer, and closer, and closer…

There. Something smooth and hard under her fingers. It was surprisingly easy to yank from the mud. She barely had time to look at it, to register the blade glistening in the moonlight under the layer of mud, the sanded wooden handle - an axe - before the wolf leaped in the air, jaws unhinged, sharp teeth reflecting in the axe blade. Chess lifted the axe reflectively, bracing herself, just moments before the wolf would’ve landed on her chest and ripped her to shreds.

The axe cut clean through the wolf, slicing it in two pieces from snout to tail. Its blood splashed all over Chess’s face and chest, and she heard twin thumps as the two halves fell on either side of her head. A choking sob fought its way up her throat, and she pressed a hand to her mouth, sure she was going to throw up.

Then the two halves of the wolf began to move, shifting beside her into two human-like shapes, each wearing half of the pelt. The fog began to clear as two hands reached towards her, and Chess stifled a cry - her grandmother and Cairo, welcoming her home.

Chess opened her eyes with a gasp.

Instead of her grandmother’s old military jacket and Cairo’s shining eyes, all she saw were steel bars. The air was filled with the scent of ferns and moss. The chatter of birds was so overwhelming she almost covered her ears.

A soft yip came from somewhere to the side, sounding concerned - the white wolf. Chess rolled over to look at him - on the other side of the pathway, the wolf sat, watching her. He tilted his head a little bit, and it struck her how much he almost seemed like the neighbors’ dogs back home.

Home…

It wasn’t the first time she thought it, but Chess was still shocked by the near-physical pain in her chest, the longing for the rolling fields and blue skies and familiar faces. She wanted to go home.

“He likes you,” said a voice.

Chess inhaled sharply and sat up, eyes searching wildly for the source of the voice. A girl about her age was sitting in her cage, hands folded in her lap, watching her curiously, close enough to touch. Chess tried to move away, but pain shot through her hand, and she fell back to the ground with a hiss of pain. Her hand was wrapped in bandages, but her pinky was the worst of it - during her trial, Levana had forced her hand to pick up a hatchet and use it on the pinky finger of her other hand, taking it off at the second knuckle. The pain had been bad enough that she’d wished to pass out, although she hadn’t. But while that was the worst of her pain now, it wasn’t all of it - there were scratches and cuts and bruises all over her entire body, some from the scuffle on the satellite and some from that awful Lunar boy she’d stayed with for several days and most of the aches from sleeping on hard floors for more nights than she could count.

The strange girl didn’t react to Chess’s fear. She sat quietly against the wall, her back straight, looking interested and curious. She clearly wasn’t another prisoner - she wore a pale pink dress that looked out of place against the dark regolith Chess’s cage was carved from. Her honey-brown hair tumbled around her shoulders in healthy, shiny curls, half of it tied up in a ponytail. Her eyes were a pale blue, sparkling with excitement, and Chess realized that her left eye had three scars below it, cutting in straight, parallel lines down her cheek - almost like perpetual tear tracks.

She was the most beautiful person Chess had ever seen.

And it was that beauty that made Chess realize she was wearing another glamour - another trick.

“Ryu and I were wondering if that was a very good dream or a very bad one?” the girl asked in a sweet voice. “You were mumbling to yourself quite a lot.”

Chess pushed away the lingering memory of the dream, the image of Cairo and her grandmother smiling at her. “Who the hell are you? And-and who’s Ryu?”

The girl smiled. “Ryu is the wolf, silly!” She turned to look at the wolf across the path. “Haven’t you been neighbors for four months now? Ryu, why haven’t you introduced yourself?”

The wolf blinked big yellow eyes at her.

The girl looked back at Chess and leaned forward, like she was sharing a big secret. “And I am your new best friend. But you mustn't tell anyone, because all the guards think that I am your master and you are my pet - they don’t know that my pets are my dearest friends of all! We will fool all of them, you and I.”

Chess struggled to comprehend what the girl was saying. None of it made sense, or answered Chess’s question.

The girl reached for a basket beside her that Chess hadn’t noticed before. It seemed like a picnic basket, lined with some soft, silvery material. “I thought that today, we could perhaps play doctor and patient! I’ll be the doctor, of course. You seem in need of some care.”

Chess sat up and pressed herself against the opposite wall. “You’re not a doctor.”

“I know. That’s why it’s pretend.” The girl smiled wider. “Aren’t you having fun?”

“No, actually, I’m really not.” Chess’s fingers pressed against the rough stone floor. “I’ve been mentally and physically tortured, I’m starving, I’m thirsty, I’m locked up in a cage in a goddamn zoo-”

“Menagerie.”

“-and I’m hurting in a thousand different places. And now some crazy girl comes in here and wants to play make-believe? Like we’re best friends or some shit?” Chess scoffed. “I’m good. Go away.”

The girl sighed and leaned her chin on her hand, resting her elbow on her knee. “You shouldn’t call me crazy. The guards don’t like that. Even though it’s true.”

Neither of them broke the silence for a moment.

“I know it’s true. You want to know how I know?” The girl leaned forward again. “The palace walls have been bleeding for years, but I am the only one who sees.”

More silence.

“No one believes me, no matter how many times I say it,” the girl continued. “Sometimes I can’t help but step in it, and then I track bloody footprints everywhere, and I worry that perhaps a wolf soldier will smell it and come for me. But if the blood was real, don’t you think the palace maids would clean it up?”

Chess tried and failed to think of an answer.

The girl pulled a small box wrapped in ribbon. “These are for you. Doctor’s orders are to take one pill twice a day.” She handed Chess the box with a wink. “It isn’t real medicine, of course. It’s just candy. Sour apple petites - they’re my favorite.”

“I’m not eating one of those.”

“Why not? It’s a gift.” The girl opened the box and held it out to Chess - four small, round red candies, shiny and smooth. Chess didn’t move, and after a moment, the girl set the open box down on the floor between them.

“What do you want from me?” Chess asked.

“I want to be friends.”

“A friendship based on lies?” Chess laughed sharply, humorlessly. “Of course you don’t mind that. You’re Lunar. Lying is all you know how to do.”

The girl looked at her lap. “I’ve only ever had two friends - two human friends. One became a pile of girl-shaped ashes when we were very little, and the other has gone missing. I don’t know if he’ll ever return.” She shuddered, squeezing her eyes shut. “But I asked the stars to send me a sign that he was all right, and the next day was a trial like any other trial, except standing before me was an Earthen girl who’d seen him.”

“Can you make sense? Please?”

The girl leaned forward, closer than she had before, close enough that Chess could almost feel her breath across her face. “Is he all right? Sybil said he was still alive, that he probably was supposed to be piloting that ship, but she didn’t say whether he’d been injured. Do you think he’s safe?”

“Who?”

The girl smiled again, almost wistfully. “Clark Winslett. Sybil’s guard. The man with the blond hair and the kind eyes and the smile that holds the sun. Is he all right?”

Chess blinked, baffled. She didn’t remember much from the fight on the Rampion, and what few memories she did have were blurry. But while her focus had been mostly on the thaumaturge, she did faintly remember a blond guard.

But the smile that holds the sun? Bullshit.

“I remember two people that tried to kill us,” she muttered.

“And he was one of them?” the girl pressed, seemingly unconcerned with the killing part.

“Yeah, I guess.”

The girl smiled gleefully. “Did he look okay?”

“He looked like he was trying to kill me,” Chess said. “But I bet my friends killed him first. That’s our typical procedure for people who work for your queen.”

The girl’s smile vanished. “You’re lying.”

“Nope. And he deserved it.”

The girl began to shake, almost hyperventilating. The wolf - Ryu - pawed at the bars of his enclosure, whimpering. Chess tamped down her guilt and told herself she wouldn’t call for the guard’s help.

The girl got her breathing under control and sat up, her hand resting on her basket. “I see. Well, I-I should go.” She moved as if to stand, but then stopped. “I wasn’t lying about the bleeding walls. Soon, the palace will be so soaked with blood that Artemisia Lake will be so red, even Earthens will see it.”

“I don’t care,” Chess said. “And I’m not going to feel sorry for you. Your glamours and your mind control - you people have built your entire civilization around those lies, and I don’t want anything to do with it.”

The girl crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at Chess, but said nothing for almost a minute. Chess lifted her chin and looked the girl in the eye, refusing to be afraid.

“I haven’t used my glamour since I was twelve years old,” the girl said at last. “That’s why I have these visions. Why I’m going mad.”

Chess didn’t show her surprise as the steel bars of the cage opened and the girl ducked out, taking her basket but leaving the candy. “Your Highness,” said the guard as he closed and relocked the cage door.

Chess listened to the footprints retreat down the path, staring at the candies, her heart thundering in her ears.

Your Highness.

Princess Annleigh.

The queen’s stepdaughter.

Annleigh was rumored to be more beautiful than Levana herself - which was why the queen had given her those scars. Even Earth knew about her, about her unspeakable beauty, about her scars… though Chess had never heard about the girl going mad.

The candies lay in front of her still, tempting her. Chess had no reason to trust her, but she’d finished her one small meal hours ago, and she wouldn’t be fed until the next day. Her stomach began to ache, and her head spun, and while she was proud of how long she made it, eventually she reached for the box and lifted one of the candies from the shreds of paper it was nestled in. It was smooth as glass between her teeth and cracked easily, the warm, melty center sweet and sour on her tongue. Nothing, nothing, had ever tasted so good.

But it was nothing compared to the sensation that expanded through her chest, down to her legs and into her fingers. A feeling of warmth, of comfort, that took her pain away with it.

Chess managed a smile up at the glass ceiling, at the stars beyond it. Perhaps the princess wasn’t so cruel after all.