#except when he said he doesn't like to dig holes

[an-adhd-infested-nerd]

Snickers from Bluey is PEAK character design

[d3vilcvntz]

hi if you're interested would you write anything for a clingy sub aki from chainsaw man? maybe ami woke them up from a nightmare or something or came home late and is craving them? thanks!

top male reader x sub aki csm

cw; somnophilia

you and aki have been together for almost a year now. everything were fine in the relationship except for the fact that both of you barely see each other anymore despite living together. both of you were busy working so the only time you see each other are early in the morning. your work always ended around 9pm and aki's work ended past midnight when you're already asleep. he won't admit it but he really miss you and your touch.

you were already asleep when he got home, slowly making his way to your shared bed so he won't wake you up. putting his hand on your face,moving your hair to the side so he can see your face better

"i miss you" he murmured, kissing you on your lips.

he really shouldn't be doing this but you did told him that it's okay to do this if he can't handle it on his own so, it should be fine right ? he won't do this if you don't agree to it in the first place.

slowly pulling your trousers down, revealing the bulge in your boxer. he can't wait for you to be inside him, it's all he's been thinking about all day while he was working ♡

"still asleep?" he whispered, looking at your face, eyes still shut, deep in sleep. you were always a heavy sleeper

pulling your boxer down to reveal your cock. he slowly stroked your cock and gave it a few licks on the tip

he stroke your cock faster as he started to prepare himself. inserting his own fingers in his hole, preparing to take your huge cock inside him <3 after what feels like hours for him, he finally got on top of you, slowly sinking down on your cock, hole already prepared to take you deep in him

putting his hand on his mouth to stop himself from making too much noises. he doesn't want you to see him being all pathetic like a slut !

desperately trying to get himself off, playing with his nipple, his other hand playing with his own cock while he rides you as you suddenly he grabbed his hip and thrusts deeper into him, finally awake from your deep sleep.

pushing him to lay on the bed as you press his legs close to his chest, ramming into his hole as he dig his nails into your back, probably will leave marks later on but who cares right ?

slamming your cock one last time as you came deep inside him as he came all over himself, painting his own face and chest with his cum.

"welcome back" you said to him as he smiled at you and drag you to lay down with him <3 you definitely can get used to this.

[phoenixblaze1412]

Could I request reader who is like huo huo from honkai star rail except the fear is of Dottore ^^

I apologise that this one took so long cause I had to learn about HuoHuo and even do the quests about her and I love it!

It was Pantalone who hired you. You were but a scared little foxian priestess that got lost in Inazuma in which the Regrator has found you during his mission and decided to take you back with him.

It took him months to get you to open up to him without having to be frightened about him or his status as a harbinger. He had shown you that he bore no ill-intent nor will he ever harm you.

So with time, came trust. You told him about your past and the Regrator offered you a more high-paying job to be his personal assistant.

Of course he knew about Mr. Tails, he doesn't mind how the spirit would be sarcastic or somewhat rude towards him. He's already used to it.

He would be dragging you along with him to every meeting. Protest or decline his offer all you want but he would keep a firm grip on you as you are forced to come out of your shy and introverted shell. Extrovert adopting an introvert dynamic.

Regrator would always show you off to his fellow harbingers. Even though said harbingers would always be complaining on why he would even keep you when you're just a coward. Pantalone was quick to argue that you are a hardworking and it would be such a waste to just let you die in the forest back then.

Capitano and Columbina adored you due to your foxian features. Childe liked talking to Mr. Tails and sometimes have some playful arguments with him. Those three harbingers you were comfortable to speak without stuttering but there's another harbinger who just makes you want to run away: Dottore.

You don't know why but seeing him everytime makes you want to dig a hole and bury yourself in it. He just has the vibe of something sinister and horrendous. You would always tell the Regrator about it but he would only jest about how you would be overthinking about it and to simply treat him as your superior since he is, after all, the second harbinger.

"Why do I have to go in the laboratory.. can't Lord Regrator just order someone else to do this.."

You cried out as you held the document to your chest, slowly walking along the quiet hallways down to Dottore's laboratory. You were about to knock on the door only to hear the sounds of someone screaming in anguish.

"....maybe no one is inside. I'll just deliver this another day-!"

You turned and were about to run back only to be stopped by Tails as he pushed you back to the door.

"Quit yapping already and just give the documents! We don't have all day to your complains. Best to get the job done and be over with it!"

"But I don't wanna! It's scary! Didn't you even hear that scream? Lord Dottore is probably torturing someone!"

"The only someone who's about to get tortured is you! If you don't deliver those stupid papers, I'm going to torture you instead!"

"You're so mean!"

You whined as you looked back to the door before taking a deep breath and knocked. You shakily opened the door and peeked inside only to see the entire room pitch black. You wanted to lay on the floor and cry so badly but tails was quick to keep pushing you inside, only for you to trip and scatter the documents Pantalone instructed you to hand over to Dottore.

"Mr. Tails I can't find the other papers! Lord Regrator is going to be upset at me and fire me! Wait.. this could be a great idea. If I'm fired then I don't have to face any of these scary stuff or see Lord Dottore anymore! I should start writing my resignation letter."

"Oh? You do not wish to see me anymore?"

The light of the room was turned on as you turned to face the doctor himself. You could only sit up at the floor as you watched him walk over to you. Tears already forming at the corner of your eyes as you crawled back, hoping to get a good distance from him. You couldn't even see his eyes. The only thing you could look at was his bird-like mask which makes it more horrifying.

"N-no I didn't mean it like that, sir.."

"Sweet little (Y/n).. you know I have very unique observation skills. From the first time we met, you were always quick to hide behind your master. So easily frightened like a small prey. You should know I felt a bit hurt to see you run away when I simply wanted to have a little chat..."

"I'm sorry... please don't kill me-!"

You were already on your feet as you ran towards another door behind you, screaming like a headless chicken. You ran and turned around a corner only to bump into a hard chest. You glanced up only to see Dottore smiling down at you as he grabbed your arm.

You shrieked in fear, not knowing how he was fast at catching up with you but you were definitely sure you were ahead of him. You let out a cry as you waved your arms around to squirm out of his grip, only to smack the mask off his face instead.

"Oh my goodness- I'm so sorry! Wah!"

You screamed in fright at what you saw. What you thought you were looking at were the eyes of harbinger was nothing but circuits and wires with a red diamond in the middle staring back at you. You quickly pushed him away and skedaddled away, not wanting to be in the laboratory anymore.

"Mr. Tails please help me! I don't want to die! Why are you not helping me?! I need you!"

You tripped on air as you skidded and fell to the floor. You cried as you glanced at Tails only to see him still stuck to you and not even bothering to help you out. You sat up and hugged your knees to your chest as you let out quiet sobs. Already thinking of the worse, you closed your eyes and waited for the doctor to torture you as well like what he does to his experiments.

You let out a squeak when you heard the sounds of heels clicking against the floor coming towards where you are. You glanced up and stared horrifed as you saw not only one but two Dottores walking up to you. One still has the mask on his face and the other one was who you accidentally smacked the mask away from.

"P-please don't kill me! I'll be good! I'll do anything just please don't hurt me!"

The Dottore with the mask was quick to shush your cries as he picked you up bridal style before walking back to his office.

"Not to worry, little one. I hold no malicious intent towards you nor will I harm you out of boredom. You being in this area of the laboratory, especially near the cells will surely lead you to your death if you keep running around. Although I do enjoy a little chase with you, we'll put that on hold for now. Omega, make sure you lock the area here."

"Very well, sir."

You were shaking the rest of the way back, sniffles and hiccups can be heard from you as you clung to Dottore's clothes. Your heart and mind still in shock from everything that has happened.

Dottore placed you on the couch in his office as he looked over you to make sure you didn't end up having any injuries from your little run. He held your chin between his fingers as he tilted your face from side to side, observing your features up close with a grin.

"...please don't experiment on me.. I'll do anything..."

"Silly fox, I just stated that I won't bring any harm to you. But if you're offering to do anything, then who am I to waste an opportunity?"

Your ears flattened against your head, tears rolling down your cheeks to which Dottore wiped them off with his thumbs as he lightly coo'ed and grabbed your hand. Oh, he definitely loved seeing how frightened you get so easily because of him. He wants to see it more. Something dangerous bubbling up from within him as he grinned at you, his grip on your hand tightening a bit which made you winced but he didn't even bother to notice.

"You said you'll do anything, yes? Then be mine. Work under me from now on. I'll handle Pantalone. Just stay here with me instead, hm?"

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Baby, it's cold outside

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 27

Prompt: Coffee shop/bookstore/tattoo studio AU

Rated: M

CW: Alcohol; Implied sex

Tags: Coffee shop owner Steve; Tattoo studio owner Eddie; Christmas fluff; Flirting; Sexual tension; Getting together

Notes: Continued from my December microfic, but can also stand alone

Eddie swivels morosely in his desk chair, stretches until something in his lower back pops. He glances out the window and immediately regrets it. If anything, the snow has gotten worse, the dark street outside near invisible behind the curtain of flakes that's been falling for hours. 

The blizzard hit just in time for Christmas, grinding all air traffic and most of the roads to a standstill. Eddie called Wayne to break the news, groaning and grumbling all the way, only to be gruffly told off.

“Ain't nothing to be done about it, kiddo. You be safe and I'll see ya when it clears.” 

He was right, of course, the old shit. Eddie is a sensible adult who knows this. And so he holed up at the tattoo studio for some long overdue paperwork. A perfectly reasonable, adult thing to do on a lonely holiday.

Except it's boring as fuck and his back hurts and the cold is creeping in from outside and now he's feeling like a little boy who's had Christmas stolen by the fucking Grinch. 

To top things off, he isn't even sure he'll make it back to his apartment with how things are looking outside.

He's just resigning himself to a night on the foldout in his office when there's a sharp rap against the front door. Eddie almost falls out of his chair. 

“Jesus fuck-” he mutters, bridging the distance and fumbling to unlock the door. “What the hell are you doing?” 

Steve stomps inside, shaking off snow as he goes. Even though it isn't more than a few steps from his door to Eddie’s, he's positively covered in the stuff, hair weighed down and uncharacteristically droopy. Cradled against the chest of his cable-knit sweater is a tray. Eddie spots cookies and two mugs overflowing with copious amounts of whipped cream. 

He watches how Steve sets the tray down on the table in his waiting area and runs his hands through his hair to get the residue snowflakes out. It leaves him looking deliciously disheveled, all mussed-up strands, golden skin flushed pink from the cold. Eddie finds his mouth watering for reasons not exclusively related to the scents wafting off the tray.

Steve is looking at him, like he's waiting for an answer, and shit, he said something, didn't he?

“Sorry, what?” Eddie asks. 

“I said,” Steve shakes his head, but there's no malice behind it. “Dig in, it's not getting any warmer.” 

Eddie crumples down onto the couch, hides his face behind one of the mugs … and blinks in surprise.

“Alcohol?” 

“Grand Marnier,” Steve says, settling down beside him and taking the other mug. Eddie has no idea what the fuck that means. Somehow though, the way the words tumble off Steve’s tongue, low and rumbly and distinctly French, really does it for him, so he doesn't complain. 

“Cheers,” he says and clanks their mugs together before taking a tentative sip. A firework of flavors bursts across his tongue - bitter coffee and thick, sweet cream and something heady and boozy and orange-flavored? 

“Good?”

“So fucking good, dude!” 

Behind his own mug, Steve's mouth tugs into a smile. Eddie isn���t quite sure if the heady rush that floods him is entirely due to the coffee. 

*

“Soooo,” Eddie slurs. The boozy coffee is long gone, as is the second helping Steve got from his shop. He's brought the entire bottle of the fancy French, orangey stuff though, pretty little genius that he is. Eddie giggles and takes another swig. “How c’me you're even here, huh? No family to visit, no girls to kiss under mistletoes?” 

“Have you looked outside?” Steve snorts, swaying into his space to snatch the bottle back. God he is pretty - cheeks flushed from the alcohol, cookie crumbs at the corners of his mouth. All Eddie would need to do is twist his fingers into that preppy sweater of his, yank him closer. Lick them off. 

“-not exactly on visiting terms with my folks,” Steve is saying and Eddie jerks back to attention. “Or speaking terms. My best friend was gonna visit, but I think she'd end me if I so much as brought a mistletoe near her. Anyhow, she can't come, what with the blizzard and all…” 

“So what?” Eddie grins, tongue loosened by alcohol and sugar and the way the light brings out the gold in Steve’s hair and eyes. “You decided to drop by out of the goodness of your heart and save my holiday like some perfect little Christmas angel?” 

Steve blinks. Averts his eyes. Flushes a whole new shade of pink. It blooms on top of the blush that has settled over his nose and cheekbones, like a fresh layer of color on a painting. Eddie thinks of all the other parts of Steve’s body he'd like to paint like this.

“Whatever,” Steve mumbles, “Just thought we'd both feel less alone, if- … It's getting late, I'd better-” 

“Go?” Eddie catches the sleeve of his sweater just as he's about to stand. Steve falls back into the couch. “Where? You're not gonna trudge home through that weather, are you?” 

Steve licks his lips, pink and glossy. Eddie wonders if they still taste like coffee and cream and oranges. His fingers find the soft skin of Steve's wrist under the hem of the sweater. 

“Just stay. You're right, I don't feel like being alone tonight.” 

“Stop it,” Steve's eyes are impossibly bright in the low light. “Please, I … I'll put up with your teasing any other day of the year, but not today.” 

“Steve …” Eddie rumbles. The heartbeat under his fingers flutters. “Stay … and I'll show you how serious I am.” 

He leans in, breathes his next words against the shell of a pink ear. “If you wanna, I'll even call you angel again.” 

They do end up using the foldout, the cold quickly forgotten.

All my holiday drabbles

[kasagia]

❄️️Warm my heart pt. 2❄️️

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/ The Darkling x fem! heartrender! reader Summary: December. Everyone in the Little and Grand Palaces is excited about the upcoming holidays. Only the Black General seems rather... depressed. Like every year when these holidays are coming closer. Maybe this year, since you've been promoted to his second-in-command, you can make the general's holidays a little more enjoyable? And you're not doing it because you're in love with him and you want to see him finally careless happy... not even a little bit. Written with sounds of: Chemtrails over the country club - Lana Del Rey Word Count: 3,5 k Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @budugu ~•♤♤♤•~ Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 1 ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 3 ~•♤♤♤•~

Sneeze. You blow your nose into your handkerchief as quietly as you can and go back to writing. Another sneeze. You watch the tent flap out of the corner of your eye, ready for his return at any moment.

You caught a cold. Probably because you fell into a snowdrift with him and had… a moment there. You'd probably rather avoid all this. At least your heart wouldn't beat stupidly every time you were in his presence. And the stuffy nose and scratchy throat were just an irritating addition to your misery.

You sneeze loudly just as you hear his heavy-booted footsteps entering his tent. You mentally curse and close your eyes. You hear him brush the snow off his clothes before he stands still as he notices you. His burning gaze on your back almost makes you feel a little warmer.

"I'd like to say that I have right, but you look so poorly that even Ivan wouldn't have the heart to tell you that. Explain to me, in the name of the saints, what you are doing here instead of warming yourself by the fire wrapped in a blanket, preferably with a healer who will help you get out of this?" he asks, crossing his arms and wrinkling his nose at the pile of used tissues next to you.

"We ungrouped. Zoya took everyone with her except Fedyor, Mal, and Alina and went on looking for the stag." you grumble, pulling your coat tighter around you. "Besides, I haven't finished these papers."

"Why the hell did the tracker stay here instead of going with them?"

You shrug. "I guess he doesn't get along with Zoya. He said the stag got scared and found a hiding place to wait out the worst of the snow. He says we'll try again in a week, when it will stop snowing a little bit. I'm not surprised. If I were him, I'd also rather go back to the castle than chase the stag in the beginning of the raw winter."

"If you were him, we would have had a stag's bones in the Little Palace long ago, ready to be used when Alina mastered her powers. Besides, the boy distracts her. Not only does he delay our hunting, he also delays her training and doesn't let her use her full potential."

Jealousy settles unpleasantly inside you, digging a hole in your stomach. You should get used to it. Eventually, he and Alina will end up together one day and make a great couple. Sun and shadows. Light and darkness. Day and night. And other poetic shit like that. They were soulmates. One of a kind. No one could deny it.

"Maybe you're not as good a teacher as Baghra after all?" you say teasingly, trying to enjoy all the attention he was still showing you... at least until he realises that Alina is… extraordinary and is much more worthy of the position by his side. As his second-in-command, right hand, or… even someone much more, you could ever be to him.

"And you against me? My own deputy?" he snorts and walks over to the fire in the centre of the tent. You see the smirk stretch across his lips, and it instantly warms you, even before he even lights the fire.

"Baghra is specific, to say the least, but she is great at what she does. I don't know many people who would ever lose control of their powers after training with her."

"Believe me, I know such people…" he says thoughtfully. He stops lighting the fire and stares at the tinder in his hands. You feel the tension in his muscles and the quickening of his heartbeat as another of his memories comes flooding back to him.

Your heart clenches with grief and sympathy as you see his eyes darken under the heavy flashback. Without thinking, you walk up to him and take the tinder from his hand to light the fire yourself.

"When I was little, my brothers liked to camp in the forest and in the fields. We played soldiers who go to war and have to spend the night with only a sleeping bag and a tent. We had to find the rest ourselves. Our mother had a heart attack more than once when we returned late in the afternoon, dirty, freezing, and starving, but with such big smiles on her face that she didn't even shout at us. She left it to her father." you laughed as the first flames engulfed the logs in the fire.

"What happened to them?"

You're shaking. At first, you don't want to answer his question, but when you look up and see his gaze fixed on you, those dark eyes, so interested in you, you just... melt. Your heart is too weak to let this moment of his attention slip through your fingers.

"Fjerdans. They attacked my village and killed my parents. My siblings and I went to live with our grandparents, and a year later we were tested for Grishas. Only I was. They kicked me out of the house so quickly that I didn't even have time to pack. They did it themselves. My youngest brother took pity on me enough to put his stuffed animal in my bag. As a keepsake. We write to each other. I actually only keep in touch with him. But it's always better than being alone."

"You are not alone." he says it quickly, before he can even process your words, and places his hand on your shoulder, stroking it tenderly. "You... will never be alone, Y/N." he says with such confidence and tone of voice as if it was a promise he would never break.

He looked at you many times, but now. You feel something new in his gaze. A certain kind of tenderness, understanding, need for protection. And you bask in this feeling, as if in the glow of the warmest fire. The fire next to you isn't half as warm as his gaze on you and the touch you feel on your skin even under the layers of clothes you're wearing.

"I... I know." you whisper, hypnotized by the deep gaze of his dark eyes. "I have Fedyor, Genya, David, Alina. You. I found myself a new family. Maybe it's better to be nobody's daughter."

"No one will hurt you like your own family will." he sighs, nodding.

The crackle of burning wood is the only thing that can be heard in the silence that has fallen between you. His hand gradually moves from your shoulder to your neck, where he strokes your cold skin with his thumb, making you shiver.

"You're cold. We should warm you up. Where are your gloves and scarf?" he asks, shaking off the moment between you.

You feel him tense again and go to his bed to grab a black fur blanket and wrap it around you. You blush slightly, enveloped in his warmth and scent. You thank all the saints that he can't hear your heart beating fast… unless he felt your pulse when he caressed your neck with his thumb. Then you are fucked up.

"I left it in my tent. I was in a hurry to get here. I wanted to finish the paperwork as quickly as I could so as not to infect you." he laughs at your words and you frown, not knowing what's so funny.

"I don't get sick, milaya. Get some sleep. Maybe the tracker is skilled enough to track down an animal for dinner. I'll come back with some soup for you. Rest. General's order. I need my deputy to be fully healthy and ready to fulfil her duties. I believe the king will want to call a council as soon as we return."

He throws a pillow at you, which you catch, and he walks out of the tent, leaving you shocked and a little puzzled next to the fire. You immediately feel warmer, and the runny nose bothers you a little less as you allow yourself to lie down. Wrapped in its warmth and scent, you fall asleep ridiculously quickly. Your dreams are filled with him... warming you up in a completely different, more pleasant way.

You don't know how much time passes. You wake up feeling a little better. You look around the tent in a daze, remembering how you got here. The fire still burns, still warming you, but not like a warm blanket and coat. Their black, dark colour clearly indicates their owner.

The smell of something delicious fills your nostrils. Your mouth waters as you look at the huge bowl of warm soup.

"Why is it not a wonder for me that the only thing that can wake you up is food?" you hear his amused voice. You turn towards him. He is sitting at his desk; a candle is lit as he writes something. He lifts his head for a moment and gives you a quick glance. "Eat. You'll feel better."

You take the bowl, and after the first spoonful, you groan at the taste of the soup. "How come this is good? Our supply of spices is long gone; how did you season it?"

He can't help but laugh. He puts down his pen and leans back in his chair, looking at you, curled up in his blankets and coat by the fire. A strange feeling warms him from the inside, seeing you so... at home with him, and if it weren't for your wheezing and red nose, he would have no qualms about enjoying the sight. But he knew you were only here because you were sick, and his care was helpful. No one would willingly stay with him. No one has ever done this...

"I haven't lived in a palace all my life, Y/N. I know how to take care of myself in all circumstances."

"How bad will it be if I say this is better than what you feed us in the Little Palace?" you ask, wolfing down the soup. Somehow he can't help but giggle. The heat inside him continues to grow… maybe you were able to infect him after all?

"Do not get used to it. This special treatment ends when you stop making sounds with your nose with every breath you take. Besides, you snore, colonel." he says it with complete seriousness, but even he isn't strong enough to hide the mischievous smirk that appears on his lips as he watches the growing outrage and embarrassment on your face.

"I am not!" you say it indignantly and throw his pillow at him.

He catches it gracefully with a smirk and throws it next to you, far enough away that you can't reach for it without moving. You moan, but don't change your position. You're too blissfully warm to do that.

"Move up. You can't be in one position all the time. You'll get stiff."

"Won't you massage me, general?" you ask flirtatiously. Your behaviour surprises both you and him, but for some reason, your filter is off. You say what you think, and you don't hold anything back... you also feel very hot, which is both pleasant and a bit bothersome.

"Do not cross the border. I'm not your nurse."

"Shame." you say briefly and put the bowl aside. He watches you carefully, noticing that your movements are a little less coordinated.

He walks over to you. He places his hand on your forehead and frowns. "You're burning. We should take these layers off of you."

"As much as some women would like you to undress them, right now it's not something I want."

"Y/N." he speaks to you calmly and gently, like to a child. "You have a fever. You can't be too warm, or it will only make things worse. I'll bring you some water, and when I come back I want to see you out of this cocoon."

"And who are you, my father?" you huff, crossing your arms and tightening your grip on the blanket.

"No. I am much more. I am... your general. So do what I say."

You roll your eyes at him. Your defiant attitude would have done all kinds of... inappropriate things to him if it weren't for the fact that his main concern right now was your health. That's why he doesn't play and argue with you any longer. He takes you into his arms in one confident, sweeping movement. You squeal in shock, clinging to him, afraid he'll drop you. The blanket and coat fall off you, leaving you only in your red kefta.

"No! It's cold!" you struggle with him in his arms.

He allows you to fight him enough to stand on the ground on your own two feet, but you're still trapped in his grip. You probably would have struggled with him for a while longer (until you had completely exhausted your energy), but you both froze in place when you heard a soft grunt coming from the entrance to his tent.

"Um... general?" Fedyor looks at the two of you confused. "I have that medicines you asked about." you frown at the fact that he sent him to the village to get medicine for you. "Mal also went with the list to Ivan. They will be here with a healer the day after tomorrow at the latest."

"Good, Fedyor. Well done. Leave these medications and get out of here. You are letting the cold in." he says, clearing his throat. Fedyor smiles at his reaction, clearly hearing his rapid heartbeat.

"Yes, sir." He puts the medicines on the table. "I would wish you a speedy recovery, Y/N, but under these conditions, I don't think it's really necessary. Good night." he says this and runs away from there, no longer exposing himself to the general's angry look.

He doesn't stay mad for very long. His thoughts of punishing Fedyor for his insolence quickly disappear when he hears your coughing. He looks at you tenderly and leads you to his bed.

"Here." he whispers and hands you a glass with some strange brown liquid in it.

"Aleksander, I can't drink alcohol in this state." you grumble and snuggle into his quilt, trying to create a cocoon of warmth around you again.

But he won't let you. Which is met with great protest from you.

He grabs your arms and moves you so you're leaning against the headboard of his bed, sitting down, handing you a glass, and glaring at you as he sits across from you, watching you closely. He would make you shiver if the fever didn't already make you tremble.

"Drink it. That's herb. It will help." you look at the glass warily. "What's wrong again?"

"Herbs are bitter. I don't want to drink it." you say angrily and put the glass with that damned thing on the nightstand.

"Your general is ordering you to do it. Drink." he says firmly, pushing the glass to your mouth. You purse your lips, glaring at him defiantly, at which he sighs.

If you were anyone else, he would have abandoned you a long time ago. He would leave you alone to maybe die, and he wouldn't think twice about you.

But you were his Y/N.

It changed everything. And he was terrified about how far he would go for you. There were no things he wouldn't do on your behalf—for your happiness, for your safety—only for seeing that disarming smile that lit up his centuries-worn, dark soul.

"Y/N." he whispers softly, stroking your hair. At the same time, he checks your temperature with his hand.

He frowns and presses a kiss on your forehead, cupping your cheeks with both hands. The glass is long forgotten on the nightstand as he presses his lips against your skin.

He would moan at the feeling of your silky, soft skin if you didn't have a huge fever. He found himself wishing you were warm for a completely different reason than the fever.

"Milaya, you are very sick. Drink the medicine for me, okay?" he asks gently, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs as he looks at you carefully. You're still shaking. You're not sure from what, as you silently nod, still staring at his dark eyes.

He breathes a sigh of relief when you sip the medicine from the glass he holds for you without protest. He makes sure you drink it all before he gets out of bed. You instinctively grab his hand, and his heart sinks when he sees pure fear in your eyes.

"Don't go. Don't leave me alone." you whisper, your eyes staring at him so pleadingly that what else can he do but comply with your request?

He swallows and is surprised himself at how quickly he's at your side again, this time holding you in his arms, close to his chest. The idea of bringing you a cold cloth to cover your forehead flies from his mind the moment you snuggle into him for warmth. He feels like a stupid young boy again when he realises that, in another state, you wouldn't seek his closeness. He pushes away these thoughts, trying to make you as comfortable as possible as he runs his hand through your hair and brushes away the beads of sweat from your forehead.

"You're the best nurse or healer I've ever had." you whisper. Your head on his chest, eyes closed as you float with the rhythm of the breaths he takes. And seeing you in such a vulnerable state makes something break inside him.

"I haven't done this for a long time. Look after someone. I was the one who mainly took care of my sister. Our mother didn't want anything to do with her, and neither of us knew our father... so she only had me. People looked at us askance; the kids treated her like an outcast, so she was left to play with her older brother, a teenager who had no idea how to play with or take care of a six-year-old child, and a girl at that. But there was nothing I wouldn't do to make this little one happy. To give her what I didn't have… at least in a small way. Consequently, I can weave wreaths, braid braids, and other strange hairstyles; sew clothes for dolls; and make them. I played the prince on a white horse with her more times than I could count or be willing to admit."

"Black one suits you more." you comment, making him laugh quietly. "What happened to her?" you ask, opening your eyes and shifting your gaze to him.

He sighs heavily, pausing for a moment from stroking your hair as memories come back to him. And you can see in his eyes how much pain it brings him. You remember the words he said during one of your late-night conversations, when you were up late working on your reports.

The past is a wound that cannot be healed.

"She trusted the wrong people. Now she doesn't let anyone close... not even me."

"I turst you. With my life..." You wish you could hear his thoughts the moment he freezes at your words. "We all do." you add, still conscious enough not to completely pour out your heart to him. He pulls you closer to him, continuing to run his hand through your hair and press a cool cloth to your forehead.

"Thank you, Y/N." he whispers, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

A few months ago, he would have cursed himself for letting you get so deep under his skin... Now he can't help but want more. He hates to admit it, but his mother was right.

Men are greedy creatures.

But how could he not want you more? Not to want everything you can offer him when it was you who awakened in him human feelings that he had been hiding from the world for a very long time? When could he be JUST Aleksander with you?

He checks your body temperature again by pressing his hand gently against your forehead, cheek and neck. He hums satisfied, feeling you cooler and your temperature closer to normal.

"You are cozy." you mumble as he is checking on you and you rest your head on his shoulder, hugging him tighter. There is a strange sound buzzing in your ears.

"Cozy?" he asks, amused, knowing full well that in other people's eyes he was anything but comfortable or cozy. And there you were, cuddling up to him like he was your favourite stuffed toy, feeling safe enough to fall asleep in his arms.

"Yhm..." you murmur, burying your face in his neck to sigh in his scent. "You are the best pillow in the whole world."

You hear the pounding in your head more clearly as your nose presses against his pulse point in his neck. You find this very irritating. If you were a little more aware, you would have realised that it was his heartbeat that was making it difficult for you to fall asleep. What you also don't realise is that you are using your powers on him and calming him down, causing you both to fall asleep.

The tickle on your forehead from something very soft and warm is the last thing you feel before you fall asleep. And he only had time to remove his lips from your skin before you unconsciously forced him to fall asleep, cuddled up against you.

[twisted-wonderland-shenanigans]

I really want to see your drawings of the Kaiju AU, I can’t stop thinking of Ragebloom as a giant hedgehog with lots of flowers and mushrooms on his back. Maybe with large sturdy nails that helps him create burrows and pick stuff up.

And he IS JUST THE CUTEST

I am so sorry this took me so long to answer, but I am finally feeling confident in my arting ability to attempt to draw giant Kaiju bois! I'm currently working on each design, so expect to see more soon enough!

Since you really wanted to see Ragebloom/Riddle's Kaiju form, here's a concept I was finally able to narrow down!

Since he is part plant, this means that Ragebloom/Riddle's "tail" continues to grow, wilt, and experience the same issues as any other plant. Here's some little headcanons on our boi here~!

When he sneezes or shakes his body, there's a chance that some of his quills will go flying and may accidentally stick one of the other kaiju. Shellshock/Trey is the only one who doesn't have to worry too much about this due to his shell.

Prunes his "tail" with his teeth to get it at a decent length that can still defend while still retain his regal status as pack leader. Rarely lets anyone else touch it except for Shellshock/Trey, Crystalflayer/Vil, Crewelfang/Crewel, and Yuu. Smells like grass trimmings and sap when he's pruning the leaves.

His "tail" can hide thorns and vines that can be used to strike like a flail/whip or restrain his target.

When he's feeling sick, his colors fade and his "tail" turns brown. Major pruning is needed if black or white speckled leaves are found to prevent him from getting severely ill.

Rarely ever gets caught in the rain, but he does enjoy a good soak in a pool of water to rehydrate himself. He is part plant, after all, so he has to maintain the proper amount of hydration to survive. When he's done soaking, though, he smells like damp earth.

Uses his long claws to dig holes in the earth, using it as a "nest" so he can circulate nutrients from the soil into his body. He never beds down in the exact same spot for longer than a week before he moves to ensure the nutrients have a chance to replenish.

He can grow mushrooms on his body, though he rarely does these days after a run-in with Heartbinder/Floyd terrorized him while he was trying to give some to Heartshocker/Jade. These mushrooms can serve a variety of different purposes, ranging from creating medicine to creating noxious poisons.

Ragebloom/Riddle is the only kaiju besides Echofang/Lilia who is immune to most paralyzing agents and poisons, as he's able to absorb said toxins into his system and create the very plant/fungus that produces it.

[television-overload]

of our own making

(an X-Files fanfic)

Chapter 14/34 - styrofoam gravestones

[Read on AO3]

Skinner gleefully calls their joint adventure to Los Angeles a “honeymoon,” though Scully is sure no one else would consider the movie they'd just been subjected to a worthy use of their time if it had been.

‘Worse than anticipated’ might come close to describing it, actually. 

The trip itself is fine. The insinuation that this is their honeymoon (from their boss, no less) causes them to blush. Skinner knows he's making it weird, which is probably why he keeps teasing them about it every time he sees them. Thankfully, despite the awkward hazing, their boss sets them up with separate rooms.

And apparently has given them free reign of the Bureau credit card for the evening. 

The piece of plastic is burning a hole in her pocket as Scully goes out in search of her partner following the premiere. The studio lot looks much the same as it had when they'd visited before, over a year ago. Even some of the sets are still up, probably from last minute reshoots, and it's here that she finds Mulder, seated amongst the styrofoam gravestones and fake grass.

He'd taken the movie harder than she had, she thinks. After all, it's his life's work they're making a mockery of, not really hers. She's much more bothered by the bizarre love triangle the filmmakers somehow worked in, wondering how on earth they'd come to that conclusion in their short time together.

Mulder had disappeared after a particularly ridiculous scene taking place in a coffin, abandoning her to a sheepish-looking Skinner, who handed over the credit card without a word as soon as the credits rolled.

But now she sees him, and he's not moping like she'd expected after seeing him walk out of the theater in a huff.

Instead, he's staring straight ahead, frozen like one of the statues in the middle of the fake cemetery, seemingly lost in thought.

“Been looking all over for you,” she says, taking a seat beside him on the artificial hill.

“Yeah. Sorry I left. I couldn't take it anymore,” he answers, his blank stare never wavering. 

“That's saying a lot, coming from you,” she jokes, nudging against him with her shoulder. “I'm pretty sure your tolerance for bad sci-fi movies is higher than most.”

He doesn't respond, and it's then that she notices his open cell phone laying in his hand.

“You okay?” she asks. 

He looks down at his own hand as if seeing it for the first time, and snaps the device shut.

“I, uh—” he starts, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. “While I was out here, I got a call.”

A knot of anxiety twists in her stomach. That call could be from any number of people, and she can’t tell from his expression what it might have been about. He's shaken, that much is clear.

She suddenly wishes she hadn't eaten a full bowl of popcorn in the theater.

“They tried calling you first,” he continues. “But your phone was on silent during the movie.”

Her eyebrows furrow and she hurries to dig her cell phone out of her purse, checking the display.

2 missed calls.

“Mulder, who—”

“The adoption agency,” he says, cutting her off, and it feels like the floor drops out from beneath her.

She's breathing, but it doesn't feel like she's getting any air. It's impossible to tell if it's good news or bad news yet, but her voice has suddenly stopped working and she can't bring herself to ask.

His hand finds hers, grasping on tightly.

“They approved our application, pending a home visit,” he says, a disbelieving smile beginning to form on his lips.

“They did?” she asks breathlessly, and he nods.

“And there's more.”

What more could there possibly be? She feels like crying, but she doesn't know if she can. The whirlwind of emotions is overwhelming.

“They found someone,” he says. “A possible match.”

That does it. A watery smile pulls at her cheeks, and she can hardly believe it, except she trusts this man with her entire being and he would never lie to her.

“That quick?” she asks.

He nods again. “They said they know it's fast, but the plans for the last placement fell through and they need someone who can be ready in the next four months or so.”

“Four months?”

“A young woman, already five months pregnant.”

She can't help it, she leans forward and wraps him in a crushing hug, throwing her arms over his shoulders and holding on. He holds her just as tight, and she feels his beaming smile in the crook of her neck, matching her own.

“Why didn't you come get me?” she gasps into his ear, absolutely certain she's never been this happy in her entire life.

“I wanted to,” he says, amusement lacing his voice. “My legs stopped working as soon as I heard the words ‘application’ and ‘approved’ and I had to sit down.”

This draws a laugh from deep in her chest, and she pulls him even tighter, cupping her hand over the back of his head and running her fingers through his hair.

When she finally pulls back, she sees his eyes filled with tears of joy, and she knows her own look the same.

“Really?” she asks, needing to clarify. Wanting to hear him say it again. And then maybe again later.

“Yeah, Scully,” he says, gripping her hands in his own. “Really.”

Suddenly, the movie doesn't seem so bad anymore. Who cares, it'll tank anyway. They have better things to worry about.

They're going out to celebrate, and Skinner can pick up the tab. It may not be their honeymoon, but it's a celebration of their relationship nonetheless, a culmination of their time as partners and the beginning of their journey toward becoming parents.

She stands determinedly, pulling Mulder to his feet and interlocking her arm with his, grinning up at him giddily.

“Let's go,” she says, flashing the credit card proudly.

He gladly takes it from her, laughing freely as they begin to stumble out of the graveyard arm in arm.

“Scully,” he says, tossing his cheap plastic Lazarus Bowl behind him as they walk. “Promise me you're not in love with Associate Producer Walter Skinner?”

-.-.-

It's just a week later when a knock on Scully's apartment door signals the arrival of the representative from the adoption agency for the home visit. They'd spent the week frantically getting things in order in their limited time after work, finally integrating the items brought over from Mulder's apartment with her own. Mulder had even gotten one of the pictures from their courthouse wedding framed, and it held a place of honor on top of the fireplace mantle in the living room.

Every time she passes it, she feels her heart skip a beat. There are precious few pictures of the two of them together, and that one is the most special of them all. It makes her feel like she has that “normal” life she'd asked him about, once—though of course there is nothing normal about this arrangement they have. 

“Mulder, she's here. Is everything ready?” she says, feeling slightly queasy.

“Ready, Scully,” he answers, and she shoots him a look.

They'd talked about this at length already, so he should know better. “You can’t call me that, remember?”

He tilts his head downward challengingly, the exaggerated eye contact sending a shiver up her spine, and she knows what's coming before the word leaves his mouth.

“Dana,” he breathes in a low rasp, smirking at her visible reaction to how odd it still feels to hear her given name spoken aloud outside of the most dire circumstances.

Oh boy.

“What exactly will you be calling me? Fox?” he asks next, moving to adjust one of the chairs at the kitchen table.

“I seriously don’t think I can,” she answers. “I’ll think of something, but if I have to, I suppose I will.”

“You know, you’re the only person who’s ever listened to me and not called me Fox, I think,” he comments, his eyes tracking her as she approaches the door. “Other than maybe the Gunmen.”

“And now it just sounds completely wrong coming out of my mouth, so I won’t be doing it anytime soon if I can help it,” she says in a clipped tone, knowing the caseworker is waiting right on the other side of the wall.

“I appreciate that.”

She rolls her eyes, which only makes his smile brighten. “Shut up and get over here,” she says, jerking her head toward the doorway. 

He readily obeys, sliding into place beside her with his arm over her shoulders before she opens the door to the woman on the other side.

“Ms. Koske, hi! Come on in,” Scully says, far more cheerily than her usual affect. 

Mulder catches her eyes, and they flash in warning. Cool it down, they say. Be yourself. She'll do her best to take his advice, but it's hard. This is a key moment in their already fraught path to parenthood. She doesn't want to mess it all up with one small mistake. Not after they've come this far.

“Good to see you, Ms. Scully,” Ms. Koske greets her with a smile and a nod as she enters. “Mr. Mulder.”

“Would you like anything to drink? Coffee? Tea? Water?” She needs something to do with her hands, so she shoves them in her pockets, hoping the answer will be yes so she can distract herself from her nerves.

“I’m alright, but thank you,” Brenda says politely. “Maybe after you’ve shown me around a little?”

Thankfully, Mulder takes the reins after that, probably sensing her unease. 

“Of course, right this way, Ms. Koske,” he says, separating himself from her side—a loss which she feels acutely. He leads the woman further into the apartment, winking at Scully behind her back as he goes.

Scully takes a deep breath, collecting herself. She's not sure why she's so nervous. She and Mulder have read every piece of adoption planning literature they could get their hands on, and quadruple checked that they had everything right before today. Still, she'll always be the one to worry that they missed something.

Thankfully, Mulder keeps cool under pressure. At least in situations like this.

“Any pets?” Brenda is asking him by the time Scully catches up to them in the hallway. She can see that the woman already has a half a page full of notes on her clipboard, not that she can make out any of it.

“Just my fish,” Mulder answers easily. “Although, Sc– Dana had a dog a few years ago.”

Scully clears her throat, deciding now is the time to jump in and be an active participant in this visit.

“Maybe we could get another one after we move to a bigger house, hmm?” she asks. Mulder’s unamused expression is exactly what she was hoping for, but he quickly schools it before Ms. Koske can see. 

She's partially teasing about getting a dog—payback for him blindsiding her with the ‘new house’ idea at their previous interview. But it might be nice, someday. 

Besides, he can’t exactly say no right now, can he?

She grins.

“Whatever you want, my love,” he responds, his overly saccharine smile telling her, ‘two can play that game.’

“How long have you been keeping fish, Mr. Mulder?” Brenda asks, oblivious to the subtle unspoken conversation happening right over her head. She stoops to look at the mollies with interest, tilting her head in response to the U.F.O. themed decor.

“Oh, uh, probably over a decade now,” Mulder answers, turning his attention back to their guest and his gleaming fish tank, in its prized new location.

Brenda raises her eyebrows, scratching something on her clipboard. 

“Impressive. They’re more work to take care of than most people think,” she speaks, and Scully hopes that translates to ‘If you can keep a fish alive, you can definitely handle a human child,’ even if the logic there isn't exactly sound.

Off the hallway, next Mulder shows her to the bathroom, which had been meticulously cleaned the day before. Scully doesn't know how someone could make such a mess with toothpaste, but Mulder’s tooth brushing quirks like squeezing the toothpaste tube wrong have been a constant pain in her neck since he started sleeping over. At least that's the worst of her worries. Otherwise, he's been a very agreeable living partner, even putting his shoes away instead of leaving them out after the time she almost tripped on them with an armful of groceries.

Brenda peeks inside cabinets and checks the bathtub, annotating as she goes on her clipboard.

“Are your medicines kept secure and in a child-safe place?” she asks, looking to Scully.

“Yes, I was a doctor before I left to join the FBI,” she answers readily. “I can assure you that I know all the dangers and keep them stored safely.”

Brenda nods, seemingly impressed. 

“A doctor,” she says. “Do you have any experience with children’s medicine?”

Scully shakes her head. “Just a rotation in med school,” she answers honestly. She knows realistically that this won't impact her chances of adopting, but still she wishes she had a better answer. “I, uh… went in a different direction.”

The woman smiles. “Not a problem, I was just curious. It’s good to hear that you have a background in medicine, that will certainly help.” Scully lets out a sigh of relief as Brenda scrawls something down, then turns her attention to her partner. “Mr. Mulder, what did you do before the FBI?”

The question catches Mulder off guard, and he rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “Oh, I– I got recruited not long after I completed my degree in psychology.”

“Did you ever practice?” Brenda asks.

“No, I didn’t.”

“But, I’m sure you have a general understanding of children’s psychology from your studies, yes?”

Scully looks to Mulder, curious about his answer herself.

“I do, yeah,” he says. “But, actually, most of my knowledge in that… area… comes from personal experience.”

The caseworker nods in understanding. “I hope you don’t mind my asking… I know this is a little less formal than our last interview, but I’d still like to be thorough.” The implication that he should expound on his answer is clear.

“No, I understand,” he says, nodding. “Uh, when I was twelve, my little sister disappeared. She was never found, and it… tore my family apart. I spent most of my adolescence bouncing between therapists until I went off to college in England.”

Brenda gives a sad shake of her head and makes a note.

“You two have quite a history,” she says, unmistakable traces of pity in her voice. “I can see why you were drawn to each other, and why you’re looking to start a family.”

Scully catches Mulder’s eye, and they share a look. This woman doesn't know the half of it, but she's right. Their bond is rooted deeper than most, deeper even than the average married couple.

All they want now is to move forward with their lives. To have a spot of sunshine after years of darkness and suffering. Somehow, that desire turned into the dream of starting a family, and it's hard to believe how far they've come in a few short months.

“I think I’ve seen enough in here,” Ms. Koske says, breaking the sullen silence that had fallen. “Would you mind showing me your room?”

“Of course,” Scully says, smiling a forced smile as she leads the way. “Our room.”

Because it is their room, as far as Brenda needs to be concerned. She doesn’t need to know that Mulder actually sleeps on the bed that’s in the spare bedroom, now that it’s been moved from his apartment. All it took was moving a few more of his personal belongings into Scully’s room and making his room look like a guest room, and their little white lie was perfected.

“Looks like you’ve got a good variety of reading material, here,” Brenda says, eyes trailing over the bookshelf. “Medical journals, Moby Dick … The Truth About Extraterrestrial Life Forms. That one’s… unique.”

“My husband is a big fan of science fiction,” Scully says, the explanation coming easily to her. She even managed to use the word “husband” without stuttering over it, for once. Easier than saying “Fox,” in all honesty.

When she looks up at said husband, though, he's suppressing an amused smile, and she shakes her head, her cheeks undoubtedly flushing pink.

Brenda nods at her answer, smiling warmly as she stands back up to her full height. “Yes, I can see that. You’ll have to make some space for children’s literature. They’re classics, but I love to recommend Dr. Seuss.”

Scully’s heart twists, and Mulder’s eyebrows raise almost imperceptibly, a meaningful look passing between them in the span of a second.

She doesn't want to get her hopes up yet, but…

“I’ll buy a whole other bookshelf, if I have to,” Mulder says eagerly, chuckling softly, and Scully feels herself fall even deeper in love with him.

Brenda pats him on the arm, an approving smile stretching her cheeks. 

“Now, that’s what I like to hear.”

-.-.-

The rest of the tour goes smoothly, and Brenda takes Scully up on her offer for tea prior to her departure.

The conversation topics are decidedly lighter as they sip on the warm drinks. Mulder regales her with tales of growing up on Martha's Vineyard, keeping things in the safer territory of beach days and riding bikes, rather than touching on his home life. 

Before long, their cups are empty and they get to their feet, moving slowly toward the apartment door.

“Well, everything looks good here,” Brenda says, tucking her clipboard into her bag. “Clean, not too small, good neighborhood, healthy food. Shouldn’t be too difficult to childproof, for however long you plan to stay here. And, your experience in medicine and psychology should certainly work in your favor.” 

Scully reaches a hand out and finds Mulder's, and he must have been searching for hers too, because he's right there, clasping her palm in his. 

“I have no qualms recommending you to our birth mother,” Brenda declares with a beaming smile. “I’m sure we’ll be able to set up a meeting with her soon.”

She grabs Scully’s hand for a cordial handshake, then shakes Mulder's, and all the while Scully can scarcely move or breathe. Had she heard that correctly? They were really going to get a shot at this?

For the first time, she lets herself envision them with a child. Baby toys scattered on the living room carpet. Mushy baby food lining the shelves of her pantry. Mulder as a father, ever the involved parent like he says he wants to be.

That was something she hadn't ever truly allowed herself to imagine. Not even when embryos bearing his DNA had been implanted into her womb, while he waited supportively in the waiting area.

For the first time, it's real, and she can barely hold herself together.

Mulder thanks the woman for them both, smiling broadly as he opens the door for her, but Scully can't hear them over the sound of her heart racing. She manages to mumble a thank you and goodbye before the apartment door closes, unable to muster anything more substantial than that.

And the moment they're alone, tears erupt from her eyes, hot and wet on her cheeks.

Mulder doesn't waste a second pulling her into his arms, holding her tight to his chest. She feels herself being lifted a few inches off the ground, and he buries his face in her shoulder, grasping her securely around the waist. 

She can't speak, can't do anything but cry into his shoulder and picture their life together. Beyond the X-Files, beyond alien abductions and missing sisters. Finally, finally beyond manipulative ex-girlfriends and smoky shadow governments, who now lie in dirt and ashes.

There's a life for them, beyond, and she wants it now more than she ever thought she would.

“One step closer,” Mulder whispers into her neck, his voice choked with emotion.

She can only nod and hold him tighter in response.

~~~

Note: Apparently Hollywood A.D. takes place in January 2000?? I'm going with it.

Lovely tag list ♡: [if you would like to be added or removed, let me know!]

@today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr @agent-troi @angegova @baronessblixen @calimanc @captainsolocide @clo-thespin @cutemothman @danasculls @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @gillian-anderson-in-the-tardis @hippocampouts @invidiosa @monaiargancoconutsoy @msrafterdark @numinousmysteries @primrose19 @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @skylarksong @stephy-gold @teenie-xf @the-redhead-in-a-dress @vincentsleftear

[kaurwreck]

On Stormbringer, why Chuuya's humanity isn't left ambiguous, and why N is wildly unreliable for exposition. Everything beneath the Read More is both spoilers and also nonsense if you're unfamiliar with or haven't finished Stormbringer.

I read Stormbringer because when trying to dig into Chuuya's backstory, I couldn't find any clear information. However, the sum of what I was able to find indicated that whether Chuuya was the original or the clone was left ambiguous. And then I read Stormbringer, and it wasn't left ambiguous at all; textually and metatextually, the story concludes that he is the original.

The only specific argument I've seen as to why Chuuya's humanity is ambiguous is that N said he was a clone and there would be no reason for N to lie to Chuuya. But, N has every incentive to lie to Chuuya. The only way to continue the research effectively is to have back the research's source material; iterating on a clone is ill-advised (consider training deep learning models on output from deep learning models, as a comparable example) and can only suffice for so long if it ever sufficed at all. (If that logic isn't enough on its own, N's quick dismissal of the clone's bio matter is.)

But, if your source material believes himself to be an individual, he will resist returning to you as source material. That's the only explanation for why N tortured Chuuya too: if Chuuya's conscious self is separated from his singularity, such as when Randou separated him, the singularity is released as a black hole kaiju, so you can't simply lobotomize him. But maybe you can psychologically break him into complacency.

The only other argument against the epilogue as evidence enough that Chuuya is the original might be that Mori is unreliable for exposition too. Except, in his dealings with Chuuya, Mori is uncharacteristically sincere, honest, and forthcoming. He is manipulative, but because he's manipulative, he understands that Chuuya responds better to frankness. Further, the two people he presents to Chuuya as his birth parents resemble the actual author's parents, providing metatextual validation that those are his parents.

I can't imagine what's left that is ambiguous.

I think, at least sometimes, people just want it to be ambigious. I've seen takes that in confirming that Chuuya is the original, the epilogue cheapens Chuuya's arc. It doesn't, but placing his nonhumanity as integral to his arc certainly would. His arc is that it didn't matter if he was the original or the clone; as Randou told him in Fifteen, regardless of any of our origins, we are all patterns written on flesh. (That's important, because it's what Verlaine couldn't understand himself, and his inability to grasp it, his belief that he was inherently deficient for his origins, is why he perceived insincerity in Randou's assurances.) Mori gifts him the opportunity to confirm his background years after he'd already chosen his innate humanity. He accepts Mori's gesture but does not act on it, because the confirmation that he was born to his parents changed nothing to him. It sincerely did not not matter.

The epilogue's confirmation that Chuuya was born to parents and isn't a clone would only cheapen his arc if Chuuya's humanity existed in defiance of his nonhumanity. But that was never the story. Rather, the story is that Chuuya embraces and internalizes faith in himself and his innate humanity, something with which he struggles as he's fraught with insecurity over whether he's capable of being who he needs to be for those he loves. It's evident that this is his arc because faith in one's innate humanity, compassion, and ability to navigate uncertainty is paralleled throughout, including in Dazai and Adam.

It's also why Stormbringer is framed within the context and themes of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein; Frankenstein's monster isn't human in defiance of his inhumanity, he, like Frankenstein and the rest of us, is human because he comprises patterns of curiosity, love, and mistakes made flesh.

[grapecaseschoices]

OC in 15: Kendis Crawford-Louel

rules: share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

I was tagged by @deepinifhell and am woefully delayed in getting on this.

Tagging: @thedeadthree @thee-morrigan @nat-seal-well @nightingalesighs @laufire @lusavors @cypresswrites @thelittlestspider @mt07131 @roxaro @quaxorascal @tuomniia @andthatisnotfake @sunshineandviolets @sapphic-story [tagged fifteen peeps! i think! and as always no pressure!]

Most of the dialogue from old rp stuff repurposed for this meme, some from unposted stuff, and a few I made up for this. (As warning: some cussing)

-----

1] However, strangeness of the situation proves that the metal gates aren’t fully down around the castle, because she bites out, bluntly, “No! No. I’m not okay.” Her breath hitches. “Don’t. D-don’t follow that up with another question. I thought we talked about this.”

By ‘we’ and ‘talked’, she meant the time she summarily shut down his last attempt to dig deeper. It should’ve been obvious by now that Kendis didn’t like accepting what they insisted on dishing out.

-

2] "Yook, Kenny, yook!"

"What'm I lookin' at, teeny tyke? --- Well, now. Look at that! Is that me? In fact, I know that's me. That's the second prettiest person in this entire art of prettiness. And is the one right next to me you? It's got to be 'cause that's definitely the prettiest person in this."

"You siwwy, Kenny. Boys not be pretty!"

"Am I? Well, if you're sayin' that's right then I'll consider it. But being silly doesn't mean I'm wrooooong~. Boys can be very pretty, kiddo. People can be whatever they wanna be so long as they're --- kind, yeah? And you're the kindest, prettiest, most talented teeny tyke, I've ever known. Oh, now you're laughin' at me, huh? Well, Ima show you 'bout that teeny brat."

-

3] "Who invented white allosexuals, like for real? Someone return this woman to sender."

-

4] "We're not even four days into a fucking New Year and this shit stain is stinkin' up the place."

-

5] "And I get that it's different things for different people. But I rather lose a place, than lose the people that matter with it."

-

6] "I know you've probs been lied to lately. But you're really not cute."

-

7] "He obvi picked bad pics on purpose, you Italian booger."

-

8] "I'm like Siri. Except better looking, smarter, much louder, and not an AI slave to a hegemonic hell-hole that stole the name of one of the best fruits. Like ever."

-

9] "Um, excuse you. I'm not reckless. What 'bout me screams the self sacrifice type?"

-

10] "Hey. Hey! Look at me! That's it ... slow breaths. I've got you. Do you -- you're okay, slowly ... Do you remember what I told you last week? Just nod. I've got you. I've got ya. You remember this? That's my pinky. We pinky promised -- the biggest and most bindable way to lock in a promise, yeah? And you may not know this about me, but I don't make promises that I can't see through. I said you're gonna be okay. And I mean that. I'm gonna make it happen, okay? I'll -- I'm here now and I'll be there at the end. Prommy, prommy, prommy, prommy, pro -- oh, a laugh, huh? Ha. That's what I like hearing. Leave the worryin' to me, dude."

-

11] "If this human version of a mutated ingrown armpit hair follicle don't get up off my face in the next 10, 9, 8, 7, …."

-

12] “Ow! Fudging snowcaps! That bitch hur –” They stopped mid-yelling but simply began complaining underneath their breath.

-

13] "I'm --," Kendis gestured sharply with their right hand as if orchestrating their feelings or encouraging Morgan to jump in. Not that they gave her much of a chance when they quickly added, "You know."

"You're?" Morgan smirked, "You know? I don't think I do."

"Yes. You do."

"Nah, nothing's ringing a bell."

"Well, that's probably all the brain damage you got from the last fight."

"Right. I remember that. The fight where I got stabbed instead of you."

Kendis' nostrils flare and their jaw clenches so tightly Morgan almost feels a sympathy twinge in her own teeth.

-

14]

“Then why won’t you tell me you love me? Maybe a little reward so I can be brave?”

“‘Cause a face full of kisses wasn’t enough? Wow.”

“Sure,  it was nice but this is a big deal. I think I deserve a bigger reward.”

“Aren’t rewards for after you actually do the stuff?”

“You’re right. How about you say ‘I love you’ just because you do!”

“You look cute when you pout an’ you’re gonna be late.”

“Please, Kendis? We’ve been dating for a while now and … That is – Unless – You don’t.”

“I don’t what?”

“You know you are always avoiding it, saying how you feel about me, and you’ve never come close to saying the words .. and sometimes I’ve wondered … I’ve been very patient the last several months –”

“Then keep on with that.”

“Okay. Okay. Kendis. Do you love me?”

“Can we talk about this later? This ain’t as black an’ white as you’re making it look like.”

“But it is.  It is a very black and white question with a very black and white answer. Do you love me?”

“Austyn. Austyn? Stop that! What’re you doin’?  Don’t. You’re – fuckin’ –”

“These are the notes I wrote you. Look at them. Look how far they reach on your floor. Look!”

“No”

“You never even wrote it back. I kept saying it and writing it and you never gave anything back … B-because … because you don’t.”

“I never gave – We’re not doin’ this right now. Again. Why’re you doin’ this right now? We don’t even have the time to really get into -”

“What is there to get into?  It’s yes or no,  Kendis! If you say that, then it will be all settled.”

“Maybe stop cuttin’ me off an’ let me speak.”

“You cut me off first! And don’t you start raising your voice at me!”

“You started that shit first, yourself! What is with you?”

“Why are you acting like I am overreacting? I’m not! It isn’t wrong to want to know whether or not my best friend is in love with me. It isn’t wrong to know if you really see a future with us together or if you’ve been just tagging along because I’m one of the very few other out girls in school.”

“You called me your best friend.”

“What?” 

“You should know how I feel. You say I don’t give you nothin’ back but that’s a damn lie an’ you know it.”

“Then why don’t you say it? I say it all the time!”

“But are you really meanin’ it?”

“Uh - Wha – EXCUSE ME!?!!” 

“Are you? How can I say those words to someone that's not a sure thing? You talk a lot about a future that ain’t here but what you really got to say for the now.”

“Wow. Asshole.” 

“Takes one.”

“Fine. Don’t love me. I think it’s best if we take some space right now and reconsider our priorities.”

“Austyn. I didn’t mean – Austyn this is silly.”’

“Is it?”

“Why're we even doin’ this right now? What about the formal?” 

“Don’t call me unless I call you.”

“Austyn!”

“Don’t.”

“You know what? Fuck you.”

“Apparently not even in the next few months, asshole.”

-

15]

Kendis narrowed her eyes but forced herself to take a deep breath, “You. Bumped into. Me!” Honestly, that was a generous and kind assessment. If Kendis had been human, she doubted she would’ve been able to stand with only a headache and a bad mood to show for it.

“Yeah, because you slowed down when you weren’t supposed to! I was keeping pace with you, speeding by the way, and then allva sudden –”

“I know you’re not blaming me for any of this, let alone your speeding, you Stranger Things reject.”

“Excuse me?”

Kendis felt that anger again – no, they could almost taste it. It was just wafting off the air from the shifter in front of them. It was churning up their stomach like sick, this anger that wasn’t their rage.

It was restless, like her’s was, but was also too hard, too cold.

Not right, not right. The warning blared in Kendis’ gut. Something was off and they needed to leave.

“Don’t!” They warned when the person reached out to grab at them, clearly making Kendis ready to skedaddle. The sharp yell struck out like a roll of thunder, loud and final enough to make this person hesitate, before Kendis’ voice dropped into a growl, “Don’t. Touch. Me.” [x]

[mrrwsoup]

3 & 13 for dirge, 1 of them or both if you feel like it

3. What do they want done with their body when they die? Do they have a plan?

No real plans...Doesn't really matter to him. Fine with just rotting where he falls and whoever discovers him can deal with it lol! At least these are his thoughts before he gets involved with Mamba.

Before they start living together Dirge is pretty much a recluse who doesn't have any close friends or family, just going around graverobbing and killing time, so theres no motivation for any memorial or anything.

Post-Mamba....still no solid plans honestly lol except since theres someone around so his body wont just be sitting around waiting to be discovered. The extent of his death plan is just offhandedly half-jokingly telling Mamba like. "Just roll my body into a hole in the yard when youre done with it."

That being said Mamba is a few years older than him and a heavier smoker so in the case Mamba died first Dirge might just dig up his grave and climb in with him ...............yayyyy. he's open-minded tho

13. Do they like to snack? What do they snack?

Dirge cant cook like. At all. So he honestly probably snacks more than he has actual meals. (Much moreso Pre-Mamba, Mamba can at least cook basic meals and not burn spaghetti so Dirge gets him to cook for them). He'll eat almost anything but doesn't have a lot of money so its just whatever chips and cookies and stuff is cheap or on sale. No regard for health. Likes slim jims and spray cheese on crackers. Has a sweet tooth so im sure he's into all the different hostess snacks. Honey buns probably his favourite.

[goingbuggy]

When you have time I would LOVE to hear your thoughts about post time skip buggy!!

Hi, anon! Sorry for the late-ish reply. I thought carefully about how I wanted to reply, but alas, here I am again, starting my metas in the strangest places. Anyways, here’s a seemingly unimportant question: Why is it funny that Buggy keeps failing upwards?

My answer also happens to be one of Pixar's 22 Rules of Storytelling:

"Coincidences to get characters into trouble are great; coincidences to get them out of it are cheating."

You might be wondering why I chose this quote -- after all, Buggy manages to escape most conflicts by sheer coincidence. Take the canon-filler episode(s) “Little Buggy's Big Adventure,” for example; coincidence is the sole reason why he ends up on Gaimon’s island and eventually finds Alvida, one of his future allies. But for as much as Oda is guilty of using coincidences to benefit Buggy, he also creates coincidences to get Buggy into trouble. Sure, Buggy left on good terms with Gaimon/found Alvida, but only after:

Suffering a humiliating defeat at the hands of Luffy

Losing most of his body

Being chased by killer fish/eaten by a ginormous bird

Nearly getting shot in the head by Gaimon over a misunderstanding

Being chased AGAIN by a deadly crab???? LMAO???

Buggy’s “luck” functions like a pendulum -- for every good thing that happens to him, horrible things are guaranteed to follow. This core aspect of his character is what keeps the gag afloat. Buggy is never rewarded by the narrative without experiencing consequences. In order to earn moments of respite, he has to suffer.

I find it hilarious when people argue that Buggy doesn’t deserve to have good things happen to him. Because, yeah? Duh. Oda loves having his cake and eating it too. It’s not necessarily good to play both sides with the audience when it can cheapen emotional impact, but Oda will absolutely continue to make Buggy both a complete joke and a genuine character. He has fun that way. However, he’s not going to help Buggy without hurting him first.

But that's a very meta perspective. How does Buggy view his own beneficial coincidences? He’s now an emperor, and extremely close to the One Piece/Pirate King title that he so desperately wants. But why does he think he’s being rewarded, in-universe?

His facade.

His devoted followers, his influence, that billion-berry bounty, his emperor status -- all of it stems from his fake persona and its snowball effect. He’s well aware of this. In fact, I think it’s likely that he hates himself for being such a coward and hiding behind lies. But when he sees his true self as worthless, what else can he do except dig himself into a deeper hole?

Look at 1082. Buggy finally stands up for himself, claiming that wealth and power come from chasing after your dreams -- not grand schemes. Here, he’s talking to himself as much as he’s talking to Crocodile and Mihawk.

“This is wrong… This isn’t how I wanted my life to go…”

It’s a very depressing peek at the man behind the curtain. Buggy only ever wanted to follow his dreams, but he uses schemes to get ahead instead, because they're all he thinks he has. His lies are a crutch to depend on, so he doesn't have to face the truth: he doesn't believe in himself. 

To me, 1082 reads as a "Hail Mary" moment from a character at an emotional low. Buggy still doesn't believe in himself, but he is saying: Fuck it. If Shanks and I finally have an equal chance at becoming Pirate King, I at least have to try... Right? We can confirm his lack of self-confidence, because Buggy even admits he got here by “luck or chance or whatever."

He cannot entertain the possibility that he'd get this far any other way. Of course he doesn't see himself as Shanks' equal. It’s one of many reasons he didn’t want to go with Shanks at Loguetown; he assumed he’d be working “under” Shanks (even though Shanks only said “Come with me!"), because he truly believes he is lesser in terms of potential/greatness. ("You coward!" can also be interpreted as Buggy projecting his own insecurities onto Shanks.) Buggy's decision in 1082 is a desperate leap of faith. "Go for broke," "shoot for the moon," etc.

Post-Timeskip Buggy may appear more dangerous than ever before, but in reality, he’s just a small fish in a big pond. The farther he crawls his way up the ladder of success, the worse he feels, because the life he has built is not how he wanted to live at all. Based on everything we've known about Pre-Timeskip Buggy, we should expect him to be happier than ever. He has influence. Power. His monetary value in the eyes of the World Government has shot up exponentially. But look at the poor guy. He's miserable.

If you've ever seen Better Call Saul, I think this scene from S4E9 is very similar to how I feel about Buggy:

JIMMY: There you go! Kick a man when he’s down! KIM: Jimmy, you are always down.

Buggy is a character who is always down, even when you think he might be up. Until he stops maintaining that false image, he will always be punished by the narrative pendulum he's trapped himself in.

Unfortunately, change is hard, especially with the stakes he’s currently facing. If Buggy actually has to fight Blackbeard, Luffy, or Shanks... he can’t. Not alone. He needs people to believe the facade, because that's what got him here in the first place. He may look invincible, but he is quite possibly the most vulnerable character right now.

Crocodile and Mihawk would sell him to Satan for one corn chip (especially after that stunt he pulled in 1082). We haven't seen him improve his physical abilities (unless Oda pulls some off-screen bullshit). As an emperor, he has more people gunning for his head than ever before. Buggy’s last line of defense is his long-running gag -- if Oda decides to subvert our expectations, he’s a dead man walking.

And who would he have to blame but himself? He built his image on smoke and mirrors. Eventually, he's going to have to pay the price.

If Pre-Timeskip Buggy is a man defined by coincidence, then Post-Timeskip Buggy is defined by consequence.

[thatgirl4815]

OF Favorites Rankings

I did this once before the series aired, but I thought it’d be fun to rank the core characters in OF in the middle of the series’ run and once more at the end.

I’m gonna tag some of my active OF moots here (and some new OF friends as well!) if any of you want to play too—no pressure at all! And of course, even if you aren’t tagged, please feel free to play along! I’m super curious to see how opinions have changed from the beginning to the middle to the end. :)

@abstractelysium @nihilisticcondensedmilk @just-gm @firstkanaphans @prapaiwife @dreamedofyou @sandrayy @fanfictionroxs @khaopybara @tiedankelstotheocean @thegalwhorants @autisticbokutoenthusiast @itsmelb @way-too-indecisive @k-white @waitmyturtles

1. Sand

Of course it was going to be Sand in first place (get it…First place?)

He might be morally dubious in Ep6, but if anything, that makes him more endearing to me (don't ask me how). If they all play dirty, he can play dirty too. Plus, he's just got the vibe. The t-shirts, the jackets, the boots, the independence. The superior music taste? Mans has it all except for money. Though tbh, the moment that solidified Sand as my favorite was when he ran after Ray at the end of Ep6--he was just dealt a personal attack by Ray in front of everyone, but he doesn't even hesitate to go after him. And that is the marker of a ✨ favorite character ✨

2. Ray

Naturally, both Sand and Ray have taken the top spots (pun intended), and it's because I have a special place in my heart for "woobified" characters (did I use that right @waitmyturtles? 😂)...and Khaotung executes his layers so beautifully. Ray did go in for a nonconsensual kiss (which he later apologized for, but I digress) and he did hash out some pretty brutal insults last episode. Irrespective of his feelings for Sand, it's indisputable that he has used him in some aspect to distract himself from Mew. So for all that, Ray is also morally dubious--but I'll use the term realistic instead.

I just want to give him a hug and tell him that he matters. Because clearly that is something he's heard only a few times in his life. And maybe if he heard it more often, we could avoid situations like the one at the end of Ep6.

3. Nick

I’m having a bit of an inner battle with myself over this one because Nick came out of the gate with some very immoral behavior, and yet I’m still putting him above Mew, because something about him is just so…pitiful. Admittedly, I've been growing more and more frustrated with him as the series goes on and he still fights for Boston's affection when Boston has proven time and time again that he just doesn't care. Boston keeps him on a rope, and in some ways I sympathize with Nick's struggles, because it isn't easy to turn the feelings off once they've already been cemented. But alas. He's digging himself further and further into this hole.

4. Mew

A lot of my gripes with Mew have been in respect to his treatment of Ray, but I go back and forth because I do understand the mental toll it must take on him. Regardless of whether or not he's responsible for helping Ray through his mental issues, as his closest friend, I think it should've been him running after Ray at the end of Ep6. Yeah, Ray said some shitty things about everybody, but Ray has only ever wanted what is best for Mew. And Mew was going to watch him run off and potentially get himself killed, even after Ray admitted what Top had done. Something about that just doesn't sit right with me.

Despite all of this, Mew does appear to be the most level-headed of the group (alongside Sand, though that was put to the test last ep). And the moment he played TopBoston’s sex audio right in Top’s ear? Phenomenal. He nailed that execution. I will laugh when he's on his revenge kick next week.

5. Cheum

Cheum is this low firstly because she doesn't get a lot of screen time, and secondly because she's made some comments that are a little questionable too. I can't remember who said it, but someone pointed out just how often she references how lucky Mew is to be with Top--which is a little strange, looking at him like he's some big prize. Also, not to bring everything back to Ray but...she contributes to the "burden" discussion quite a few times.

I do really enjoy the small snippets we've gotten of her with April. I like that they finally gave their relationship a little bit more context in Ep6. They do seem to have some pretty solid communication (at least compared to the others) so I'm pleased with that.

6. Top

I know a lot of people have felt sorry for Top. And I understand that completely. I struggle to given that he not only cheated but lied about the cheating--and likely would never have admitted to it. For Mew, someone who values communication and honesty so strongly, it's like a punch to the face. I hope Top gets what's coming to him. (Also, stealing Sand's boyfriend? Wtf dude.)

7. Boston

Not much to explain about this one--I can understand why he is some peoples' favorite for the sole reason that he is the one creating all the conflict in the first place. But he's so twisted, manipulative, and careless that I just want Mew to kick him into that pool a hundred times over. I don't expect him to rise from last place by the end, but if he does, it'll be a miracle.

[bakiuwu]

SillyHanma Amimal Hcs

This idea isn't going anywhere but

All Hanmas ended up being animal-like with animal ears and tails and show animal-like behavior, they are still human but 14% of their brains operated like the animal they are (if tha makes sense)

Baki-bunny

Jack- wolf/dog

Yujiro-cat

So basically the hanmas their normal-self but will show animal-like behavior like baki will still be himself except for the bunny ears and tail, he is like any normal person but does bunny activities like it's normal ya know eating greens, doing tha nose twitch, having the zoomies but he is still human.

Baki might try to chew on cords, but kouze is always quick to catch him before he electrocutes himself. He'll also be circling kouze feet when he's excited to see kouze, especially if he hasn't seen her for a while. Sometimes, he'll slightly nip kouze to get her attention, Kouze tries her hardest not to randomly pet baki's ears, but she can't help herself. Her bunny-rabbit boyfriend is too cute to resist. Since baki is part bunny, he became a vegan. He would try to eat meat, but he ended up throwing it up an hour later(vegan baki hc goes hard)

Jack is a wolf or maybe a dog (idfk it's like 2 in the morning) he still his normal self but he does dog like shit like digging holes, chewing on bones(he does tha already), and liking belly rubs(only if its kurhea). Having a ball thrown for him to fetch. Knowing kurhea hell probably get Jack a collar, a spike one to be specific.

Jack would probably sleep on a dog bed but still in a regular bed if he feels like it, He doesn't eat dog food (he'll give you the dirtest look) but he does like doggy treats. He wouldn't appreciate being pet outta the blue(unless it's kurhea), so you'll have to ask. JACK CAN NOT BE TRUSTED WITH TENNIS BALLS, HE WILL EAT THEM. He has eaten at least 7 (he got a hold of a pack tha Kureha was hiding. He said it tastes like limes).

Yujiro is a cat(basically a neko), he is still his normal shitty self but has cat ears and a tail, which is very long and fluffy. He doesn't eat cat food( he would kill you if you try to give him some) and doesn't play with cat toys(except for laser). He likes to sit wherever despite being too big (likes to spread out on strydum's desk while he's doing work).

He has a habit of licking himself in front of people. If he ever goes missing it's most likely he's under a pice of furniture, waiting for someone to walk by so he can claw at their feet(it's his favorite game to play) He likes to hunt small animals, and if he's feeling nice he'll plop one on strydum's bed as a present. Also, he doesn't feel the need to wear clothes. He uses the excuse "Last time I check cats don't wear clothing " (he's a dick). So to strydums dismay, he has a big naked ass cat man lounging around his home.

Despite not liking most cat things, he loves catnip( but he would never admit this). One day, while out, Strydum wanted to see if yujiro would react to cat nip. He bought a big bag of it but somehow the bag tore and he was covered in cat nip, Before he could make it through the door, yujiro pounced on him. Rubbing up against him and oddly enough meowing It's like for a moment, he went full cat mode. He was like this for the whole day. Just rubbing and grinding on stryudm( he was also naked). After the effect of the catnip wear off Yujiro was fucking livid, So ever since that incident yujiro has ban cat nip from ever coming near him.

It's common sense to know that trying to pet yujiro is automatic death but if he does allow someone to pet him, they'll only have a good 10 seconds before he attacks their hand(he is such an asshole cat.) If you end up hearing purring while petting Yujiro, for your own safety DO NOT MENTION IT, YUJIRO HIMSELF DOES NOT KNOW WHEN HE IS PURRING. IF YOU TRY TO BRING IT UP TO HIM IN A TEASING MATTER HE'LL ATTACK YOU ON SPOT

[ariyucake]

Since your requests are open (I think, ignore if not) can I request yandere heartslabyul with a reader who is pretty mean and unfriendly but really nice to grim?

┊That's quite a good idea, here you go ;

+ Yandere Heartlesslabyul [ Separate ] with a reader who is unfriendly and mean to everyone else except Grim

+ Riddle . ~

┊Disappointed, absolutely upset, disappointed, and despaired .

┊How are you so nice to this raccoon ? Hell, it even used to smell like shit !

┊Grim was always the one who guided you around, you liked being with him, it was always so exciting and fun . But in the end, the endings are all the same, you're both in trouble .

┊And Riddle just couldn't stop weeping to himself at night while trying to forcefully sleep . You even rejected his confession because you were busy with Grim .

┊He's absolutely jealous of Grim, he even almost forbidden him to go to Heartlesslabyul . . .

+ Trey [ Dirt grass AHA ] . ~

┊Trey doesn't mind it much at first, but slowly but surely it starts to bother him .

┊You keep on pushing others, whisper bad things, and gas light them . . .

┊Trey almost lost his mind once when he saw you being oh - so - friendly with Grim . He thought he was insane and was seeing things . . .

┊You even rejected his confession with extra mean words, especially for Trey, what makes you one of the most toxic person ever is that you prepare ' special ' words for a victim of yours .

┊One day, Grim will become Cat Meat .

+ Cater . ~

┊Woah there, now Cater thinks you're just being a tsun - tsundere,

┊He tries to please you a lot but you always push him and dig deep down the rabbit hole to find the most perfect words to hurt him both mentally and physically .

┊And he does agree that Grim is cute and all . . . but damn, you really chose favouritism .

┊When you harshly rejected him after his confession, you did something far more worse than he'd ever thought, you started to immediately tell the others he's such a creep for always wanting to please you, well, he kinda is . . .

┊He doesn't even know what to say, Depressed Cater era coming soon in 2 days .

+ Deuce . ~

┊Isn't scared to beat up Grim, but he would be hesitant when he said that in front of you since you'd go ; " Beat him up and I'll make sure that you're dead the next day . " Chill Maki kinnie .

┊Often gets hurt when you insult him

┊Get's jealous a lot when you give Grim the things he wants [ i.e. love, affection, your happy side ]

┊Can't you just give him the same things you give to Grim ? ?

┊Get's + Emotional Damage when you slapped him in the face, signaling that it was a no and that you hated him . Why did his confession gone so, so, wrong . . . ?

┊He hopes that when Grim disappears, he'll be the next one to get your affection .

┊I'm SO sorry, I couldn't do Ace because I was in my goofy ahh mood, please forgive me if this was not how you wanted it to be .

[eyes-of-mischief]

weekly fic recs | 44

fandoms: bnha, hq, mdzs, svsss

bnha

a heart swelled to bursting by eggstasy

(mature) (underage, graphic depictions of violence)

The summer training camp of Bakugou's second year at UA descends upon him with all the untamed fury of- well, himself, honestly.

PACKING CHECKLIST: ✓boyfriend (need to figure out how much he's willing to let him get away with) ✓people who claim to be his friends (deluded and in need of correction) ✓ptsd (that he absolutely doesn't actually have) ✓a healthy dose of denial (say it five times fast and that means it's true, right)

Todoroki Shouto’s Amateur Guide to Not Fucking Up The Timeline by anubisisms

All that Todoroki had wanted was milk. Nothing drastic, nothing dramatic, just milk.

Unfortunately, in his quest to get milk, he ended up running into one of the saltiest, most impulsive people this side of the globe. Who also just so happened to have a volatile time-travel quirk.

So yeah, he was fucked. Just slightly. Being punted randomly through time wasn't exactly how he'd wanted to spend his Saturday morning. At least the younger versions of his friends are cute.

hq

the death of our hands by Bershlate

Akaashi Keiji was a lot of things, depending on who you asked.

A brilliant student. A failed son. The boy Bokuto Koutarou had loved since the beginning.

Akaashi Keiji doesn't know who he is, but he's trying.

by this time next year by reeology

"I got offers from two universities," Kageyama announces, pointing at his chest with his thumb. "I'm going to play volleyball at Keio this spring."

"You still have to pass an exam, even if it's an easy one," Takeda-sensei hurries to add, although he is beaming and bursting with pride at his fluffy little crow chick taking off to play volleyball at a university level.

"I'll pass," Kageyama says with the same kind of confidence he uses when he tells Hinata he'll get the toss to him. He looks straight at Hinata, and Hinata jerks and turns red, wondering if maybe Kageyama knew he was daydreaming about something as stupid as the way Kageyama talks to him during a game. But then Kageyama just points at him and says, "You'd better get in, too."

Hinata, stupid, naive, idiot that he is, grins wide and nods and says, "Yeah!"

He doesn't know what he's in for.

i’d probably still adore you (i did last time i checked) by hheroes

“Bo,” Meian said, “you should bring your boyfriend!”

“Yeah!” Bokuto agreed. It took several seconds for him to follow up with, “I mean, I would, except I don’t have a boyfriend?”

Or, two truths and a lie: 1) Contrary to popular belief, Bokuto Koutaro was not dating his best friend, Akaashi Keiji, 2) he promised to move on from Akaashi ages ago, so 3) it wasn't like he even wanted to date him anyways.

mdzs

The Sculptor by Eleanor_Fenyx

(mature)

Wei Wuxian's ad appeared in the Sunday paper just two days ago:

Wanted: Subject to pose as reference for neoclassical academic commission. Tall-ish height and muscular physique helpful, but not necessary. 3 months’ pay at min. Enquire at Yiling Fine Arts Collective if interested.

And now, here in his studio on an otherwise normal Tuesday morning, stands the most stunning man Wei Wuxian has ever seen here to do as instructed - enquire.

-/-

"You’re definitely tall enough for what I’d like, but it’s a bit hard to tell your physique until you undress-“

“Undress?”

“Yes,” Wei Wuxian replies with a sinking heart - it had been a misunderstanding then, though how that actually happened he has no idea. In all of history hasn’t everyone known that artists need nude models? “That’s a requirement. Not all the time, I suppose, and definitely not right away…but a neoclassical piece means a nude or mostly-nude figure, Lan Wangji. I’ll need a nude model.”

“I…Yes, of course,” Lan Wangji prevaricates. He’s too well-disciplined to fidget, Wei Wuxian would guess, but it’s painfully clear that he wants to. “I understand.”

svsss

Shen Yuan of No Relation by Gemi

(mature)

There is a boy digging a hole.

There should be nothing special about him. He is one of many children digging holes, each and every one eager to get a spot on Cang Qiong Mountain. At a distance, there was black hair and shabby clothes.

Yue Qingyuan could not look away from him.

-

In a world where they are the same age, Shen Yuan is going to try his very best to become the best friend of his favorite protagonist and prevent the blackening of Luo Binghe! Only, there is a problem.

Shen Yuan looks way too much like the scum villain himself, Shen Qingqiu.

osmanthus jelly by sixin

(explicit)

After burning down Qiu Manor, Shen Jiu escapes to the red light district.

Thirteen years later, Liu Qingge finds himself reluctantly acquainted with Qingqiu, the top courtesan of the Warm Red Pavilion.

pride is not the word I'm looking for by Tossawary

(mature)

Shang Qinghua goes to take a self-indulgent peek at his baby protagonist son and gets a kick to the shrivelled heart for his troubles. He gave up on changing the story years ago! Yet he finds himself helping his protagonist son's adoptive mother anyway. Just this one change won't matter too much, right?

One little change leads to more. Shang Qinghua never meant to care, but he becomes invested in making sure that his new family survives the looming plot. With the changes to the world cascading around him, with his position as a traitor pulling him between his sect and a certain ice demon, and with the protagonist growing up so quickly, how is one displaced author meant to ensure that everything turns out all right?

A Pre-Canon to Canon Divergence story.

[onlyseokmins]

Hey again! Thank you for ellaborating on my ask I loved it! But I honestly feel like Woozi would take full effort when it comes to foreplay~ 🤤

Now, here is another food for thought: Imagine desperately riding Woozi and you can feel every inch of his dick inside you and you both just let loose and nothing matters except getting your orgasms, and he fucks you so hard and good too, that you just have to grasp onto him, digging your nails into his bizeps or back-

Btw I study religion lmao.

Please ellaborate~ <3

🐋anon

Hi, again!! ❤️ Oh 👀 do you study theology then, dear whale anon? That is an interesting field of study, do you like it?

Honestly agree w/ you that Jihoon would def put full effort into foreplay, I'm just thinking that he doesn't NEED to because his kissing skills are bar none, hehe.

I'm sure he'll gladly comply if you ask him to take more care of you because he enjoys seeing you beg and will definitely tease you the entire time because you both know how well-prepped you already are. But any excuse to touch each other, right?

Ahem, back to riding him.

Oh yes. I said begging right? Jihoon adores how cock-drunk you get, he won't budge an inch because he wants to see how desperate and needy you'll wantonly beg for him to assist. It's hard for him too, though. You drive him absolutely crazy with how sweetly you bounce on top and take his cock. Even though he knows your thighs are burning, the ache to come undone is much greater.

But just when your legs are shaking from the exertion and exhaustion, he kindly takes over. Thrusting his hips upwards so his cock hits that spot inside you just right and causes shivers running up your spine. He's biting his lip HARD at how much you tighten up around him. The coil that is threatening to snap has you digging your nails into his tense biceps that flex when he holds your hips steady in the air to keep his momentum.

The sounds, oh the sounds. This dumbass really thinks in his sex and drunk-on-you addled brain that the slap of your skin against his would make a nice beat! He's definitely using that in the next album 😭 anyways, he loves the way you moan and whimper, his own groans as he nears his climax harmonizing with yours.

You're not sure who cums first, really. The erratic movements of being so close sends you both over the edge nearly at the same time. Your eyes roll back as you slump against him, taking all of him in your fluttering hole. You're both panting, hands running up and down across the light scratches on his back that you'd unintentionally left.

He kisses you softly, gently maneuvering your body to the side so he can reach behind you. You're lost in the post-orgasmic bliss, falling asleep until he's gently shaking you awake to wash up and go to bed.

It's only months later when friends, stores, companies, and shows are all playing the latest hit by the genius producer Woozi that it all comes together. It's a sexy song and everyone loves the sultry tones. You realize why it sounds so familiar - it's the same beat that's been replicated many times in his studio - with you bouncing on his lap.

Of course, he denies all claims but you can't listen to the song anymore without nearly combusting out of embarrassment, especially when he wins an award and dedicates it on international television to you with a wink.

Tagging @onlymingyus because she said it's only respectful to 🥺🤭