#or at least thinks it won't catch up to him / he's already made the choice he has to??

[aromanticasterisms]

i know they probably won't even show up in a scene together this patch and tbh i'm fine w that like i'm glad kaeya is getting his time in the spotlight with dain. but can SOMETHING from the windblume event make me go ragbros insane please

[vacayisland]

LAST BUT NOT LEAST

Floyd x Motherly! Reader

Species and gender your choice- I’m just seeing reader is sweet, calm, mature. Calls everyone baby- always helpful. Maybe Floyd and reader are already dating? And reader calls Floyd the most embarrassing nicknames(sugarplum), number one fan-maybe some mortica vibes? Idk! You have fun with this one

@!; oh, Oh... Floyd / Motherly! Reader

"Summary"! Floyd loves you for many reasons, too many to count on his fingers or toes; too many to remember in one sitting when he's asked that simply question 'what do you love above them?'; too many to make a list of that won't expand pages and pages. Yet, he knows what he loves the most about you; you complete him in the best ways possible. "Tags"! say it with me... fluff, fluff, FLUFF!!, not proof read either :(

@!; Floyd knew you before he got captured by Veneer and Velvet. He knew you from his travels around the world in an attempt to find himself after the group broke up. He actually found you in Lonesome Flats, despite not being a country troll (or maybe you were), leaning against the window inside a western building. You had been talking to Delta with such a bright smile, Floyd couldn't help but slow down his walk to stare at it; noticing to dimples on your cheeks, the way your eyes lit up as you spoke, and the passion in your voice. It was intoxicating. It drew him in. So hesitantly, he kept his distance but kept near your little building. He didn't mean to ease drop, yet he overheard your conversation: "So, anyone catch ya' eye yet, sweetheart?" Delta's country twang was more noticeable every time she decided to tease you about this subject. You knew she only wanted to see a reaction out of you. Though you couldn't help but smile at her, wafting off the scent of a plum pie you had just finished. "No, not yet, Ma'am." Your voice was soft, a subtle hum to it that Floyd had caught. It made him choke up a bit, though he tried not to focus on that feeling. "Aw, come on, pickin's ain't that slim." Delta chuckled as she crossed her arms, grinning back at you. "And I know many fine Trolls who wouldn't waste takin' you out for dinner... and maybe some wilder ones who would take ya to a rodeo show."

And she winked, causing you to shake your head as you maintained your smile and composure. Despite being teased, Floyd could only describe you as calm and relaxed. Your shoulders weren't stiffened and you didn't crinkle your nose at anything Delta said; it was like her words didn't effect you, yet you were listening intently and responding to her accordingly. "Oh, yes Ma'am. I know that." As you softly laughed at Delta's attempted, you tested the pie's temperature and deemed it cool enough to cut. You took your knife and began to slice the pie into 12 even pieces. "Then let me set ya' up with someone!- Thank you, darlin'." You handed Delta a slice of pie as she spoke, knowing plum was her favorite. Quickly, you searched for a fork and then handed that to her too. She continued, "A pretty gal such as yourself shouldn't have to be kept waitin', though you do deserve your perfect someone." Oh, so you were a baker? Floyd noted that to himself, noticing that the pie that Delta was munching on as you spoke seemed to have some personal touches. Such as some honey baked into the plums, the crust being a little more golden than pies in the Pop Troll village, as well as some sugar that had crystalized at the top. It looked delicious... and it made his stomach growl. Floyd didn't think his stomach actually growled, he didn't catch it. Thus he was both startled and confused when you turned your attention over to him, your soft eyes matching the soft nature you carried yourself. "Are ya' hungry?" Floyd covered his stomach with his arm, a bit self conscious as you called him out. But he didn't feel called out; in an odd way he felt seen. Delta soon turned her attention over to Floyd while taking a bite of the pie. She held up the plate with a grin, "Come on, don't be shy, bumpkin'! Our Miss (Y/N) is the best baker in town and you won't find talent like this; She's like a needle in a hay stack, she is." "Oh, um.. okay." Floyd walked over to the window, noticing how your grin grew slightly larger and your eyes seemed to catch this sparkle in them. You grabbed him a plate, a slice of pie, and a fork almost instantly and placed it on your window ceil for him. "Here ya' go!" Service with a smile. Yet Floyd patted his pockets, and even dug around in them, for something to give you in exchange for the generous slice of pie. He fell short, "Oh- um, I don't have anything-" "Oh don't worry about payment, sugarplum!" Your words caught Floyd off guard, his round eyes shot up to meet yours. "Baking is just a hobby, I don't ask for anything in return; well, other than friends with full bellies and big grins. Seeing people enjoying my baking is enough payment for me." Floyd had kind of believed in love at first sight; but he didn't realize it actually could happen.

@!; Sometime after Floyd first meeting you and before he got captured, Floyd had confessed his feelings to you. Confessed that he had loved you since he saw you that first day when you gave him a plum pie. Confessed that he adored everything about you; he adored your laugh and your smile; he adored the way you worried about him, but not in an overpowering way, the way you always were there for him, the way that he could come back to you at the end of the day and you will be waiting with open arms. He adored the way you mothered him a little. Not in the way a mother would actually mother their children, yet in the way you were so caring and compassionate, while being sensible and calm made his heart beat out of his chest. You were perfect in every way, shape, and form. He loved you so much it hurt him more to imagine what you were going through when he had gotten captured by Velvet and Veneer. It was complete anguish to think about you sitting on the couch by the door in the little home you two made, waiting for him to only go on days without anything to report. It choked him up to think he could be the reason you were hurting at this moment. But he just hoped you could wait a little longer, hold out a little more, (you always had managed to, though it burns him to think to ask this of you) for him; and he will take everything just to be able to return back home to you again at the end of the day. One day. one day. Until that day, please.. please hold out. Please don't cry like he is.

@!; The day that Floyd was rescued by his brothers, and Poppy and Viva, after the initial shock wore off his first and only thought was you. It filled his head and he couldn't ignored the thoughts that piled up because everything in his body was screaming for you. For your touch and comfort and he couldn't help but blurt out, "We need to go to Lonesome Flats. Now!" Which got a lot of weird looks from his brothers; mainly Clay, Spruce, and JD looking around wondering what and where 'Lonesome Flats' was while Branch was just plain confused, maybe even a little hurt. Floyd didn't mean to hurt Branch, or any of his brothers by this request, but he needed to make sure you knew he was okay. "The country troll region?" Poppy questioned as she walked over to Branch's side. She tilted her head to the side, "Why do you need to go there?" "Yeah! Why do you need to go there? We just got you back, Floyd." Branch seemed stand-offish by this request, crossing his arms and scrunching his nose a little. Floyd understood where Branch was coming from, he did almost just die in front of all his brothers, but surely they would understand? "Please, just trust me. I.. I need to get back there." Floyd pleaded with his brothers, "I'll explain everything there or on the way. We just- we need to go now! The sooner the better.." And despite everyone's confusion, and unsureness about this all, it was a family road trip to Lonesome Flats. Where, when they finally arrived, Floyd rushed out of the van towards your little bakery. He slowed a bit seeing the window shut and your door not propped open. His eyes widened when he read the sign attached: Closed. But it was your usual opening time, what.. where were you? "There ya' are!" Floyd wiped around hearing Delta's voice. He didn't catch her unfriendly tone at first, though registered it as soon as he caught her face. Still, that didn't stop him, "Delta! Where is (Y/N)?" "More important, where have you been? You've been gone longer than our grazin' cattle, and they returned a month ago!" Delta crossed her arms and let out a huff of annoyance. "You've got your poor-" Though Delta didn't make it far before Floyd saw an all too familiar person out of the corner of his eye. You always managed to steal his attention, and his brothers were even more confused upon seeing Floyd rush over to you; despite stumbling a little bit on his starting sprint due to the lack of energy he has. "Floyd!" Branch called after his brother, just wanting him to be careful. Yet he froze upon feeling Poppy's hand on his shoulder, hearing a small 'aww' escape her lips as she watched Floyd literally jump into your arms. You had noticed him as he ran towards you, and despite carrying a bucket of fresh milk, you dropped it quickly to catch him. Which, was a good idea, since you didn't expect him to cause you to stumble a little. Even so, you laughed as Floyd hid his face in your shoulder feeling your arms tightly hug him. Your hugs were always warm, best described as momma bear hugs. Floyd had missed them and you. He had missed your warmth and your laugh.

"Oh Sugarplum, what happened?" And he missed your gentle nature and calm tone, despite everything he probably put you through after he left. You were gentle as you placed your hands on his shoulders and backed him up a little, so you were looking at each other eye to eye. Floyd couldn't even get a word out before you noticed everything different about him, "Oh my dear.. you look tired! Skinner, and your hair-! Oh my lord, what in the Trollstice happened to your hair, Sugarplum?!" Floyd now had his back facing you, as you had spun him around. Oh, Floyd could just melt at this moment, feeling your hands run through his hair as you took in all the whites that now mingled with the hot pink. He knew you were more used to his darker roots, and not like these whites were natural but he thought they suited him a little more now. Though, just as Floyd was about to answer you, he caught sight of his brothers and the plus ones. And at that moment, wide wide, he knew he had a lot of explaining to do to his brothers...

@!; It wasn't like Floyd was embarrassed of you, far from it, yet when you had him up and about dancing to Brozone.. it caused his cheeks to flush; from both embarrassment and lovingly. It had been a few months after he introduced you to the family, and he was glad his brothers had taken to you like he did and accepted you into the family. Branch was a little on the nose, but he came around.

Now, after a Brozone featured show, the both of you were dancing like crazy people to an old Brozone soundtrack in Poppy's pod. Poppy was trying to get Branch to dance with her while Clay was trying not to give into Viva's silliness.

Bruce was sitting on some chairs with JD, chatting and making fun of the younger brothers; as it was their bug brother duty to.

"Are you tired yet, sugarplum?" JD snickered as he called over to Floyd and you, his hand cupped to the side of his mouth to allow his voice to carry over the record player. Floyd grumbled a little at his brother's antics and tried to chuckle it off, maybe even shoot something back.

Yet he didn't even have to!- "What's wrong with me calling him Sugarplum, John?" Oh. Poppy paused in her pursuit and glanced over to JD with pressed lips and wide eyes, a silent question of what did he just do?

Clay and Branch both seemed to stop as well, Viva being soon to follow. Since meeting, you had never called anyone by their name. It had always been some cute nickname, such as baby or love or princess. Something motherly that made people's hearts warm upon hearing the nickname roll off your tongue with such affection and ease.

Even Floyd has barely ever heard you call anyone by their first name, that was unless they were in trouble. He decided to turn down the record player a little, just so you didn't have to talk over the music.

"Nothing!-" JD put up his hands at once, "It's just-"

"Just what? You wanna tease my darlin' for my decision in calling him sugarplum? Aren't you supposed to be the eldest brother?" You kept Floyd's hands in yours as you cocked an eyebrow up at JD, your eyes narrowing in his direction. Bruce had turned away, silently drinking his milkshake.

"No of course not-" JD started again, though didn't get far before you flashed a bright smile at him.

"Phew! For a second you have me worried there, dumplin'. Thought you were really striking that low!" And JD stared at you and your sudden switch of mood, wondering if he was seeing things or if he wasn't going insane. Either or, you gave Floyd a kiss on the forehead and turned your attention back to him.

"You still have the energy to dance with me, Sugarplum?"

And Floyd swore he fell deeper in love with you, if that was even possible at this point. "With you? Always."

.ᐟ this work is published and owned by @vacayisland. please do not plagiarize, copy, or steal this work; like, reblogs, and saves are appreciated :D

[landojpg04]

I should not be writing this as I have finals and a huge project due by Sunday, but on my fyp all I've been listening and seeing is the new Hozier song that is supposed to come out next Friday. The one where he sings You're too sweet for me, and I cannot stop picturing Simon saying that throughout the discourse of your relationship.

When you both first meet, you notice that when this man drinks his coffee, it’s black. No sugar, sweetener, not even creamer. It's just a pure bitter liquid that he sips through a debrief in the morning. Meanwhile, you loved sweeteners, oat milk, almond milk, sweet cream foams, and anything that would rid the bitterness. 

“Your coffee is basically sugar.” You heard him grumble as you added more cream to your cup. You smiled and offered him the creamer in your hand.

“Won't kill you to try some; it’ll may make the bitterness go away.” You said.

“I like my coffee black.” He says before walking away.

The next night out, you were running late. You finally made it to the restaurant/bar. The team had already ordered some drinks, but behind you was Simon.

“Wanna order together.” You say, and he just nods, leading the way to the bar.

You catch the attention of the bartender.

“Can I get a cosmo.” You said; he nodded his head and looked at Simon for his.

“Whiskey. Neat.”

You looked at Simon with a puzzling look. He raised his eyebrows as you stared at him.

“Your drink of choice is warm whiskey?” You asked.

“It’s better than a juice with alcohol.”

You just laughed at his remark towards you.

“Simon, you just aren’t a fan of sweet things.” You said as the bartender handed you your drinks.

“Not in the aspects you think.” He says before leading you back to the table.

Johnny knew of the crush Simon never dared to let on towards you. He would always push the lieutenant to at least try and make a move or even hold a conversation longer than 5 minutes with you. 

It's not until they are both smoking a cigar and enjoying the quiet of the night when Johnny finally gets a glimpse of his true thoughts.

“Why is it that you won't allow yourself to pursue even past the debriefing room or weekly gatherings? She definitely wouldn’t say no to a night out with just you.”

Simon just blows the smoke he was savoring in his lungs.

“She’s too sweet for me.” That is all he lets on.

Johnny gave him a look, not understanding his thoughts.

“She’s too sweet for me. She can’t be with someone like me. It would be like mixing honey and ash. It wouldn’t work.”

You heard Simon complaining about shoulder pain the other day. You had picked up some lidocaine cream and patches because that is what worked for you. 

“Hey Simon,” You tried to get his attention before he got in his truck.

He stopped and turned to see you catching up to you. You had a small bag in your hand. He relaxed on the side of his door as he waited for you.

“Here you go.” You said, handing him the bag.

“What is it?” He said, looking at it before peeking in.

“I heard you complaining about shoulder pain, and I have the same problem, so I thought I would share the love by getting you some of the remedies I use for you.” 

“You're too sweet for me.” He whispered to himself, almost as a reminder.

“What?” You said, not picking up on what he had just said.

“Thank you, this is really nice of you.” He said. You nodded and gave him a smile before walking over to your car. 

It’s three in the afternoon, and you're in his bed. It's a rainy day, and right now, you both are tucked in under his covers, taking in each other's body heat. You looked up to meet his eyes. He peers down to meet your gaze. Simon could have never thought, after years of this back and forth, that you would still agree to be here with him. You trace the scar that lines his lip. You knew he was afraid to bear himself all to you. To open Pandora's box and let you see him like this. No mask, no guard, just him. He was expecting you to run away from the bitterness he knows surrounds him. But you stayed. And continue to do so.

“You're too sweet for me.” He says before grabbing a hold of your chin and moving you towards his lips. 

ANGST PORTION (don't hate me, but this is also in my head)

He’s standing before you. Hood on, hands in the pocket. He gazes down as he mutters the words,

“You're too sweet for me.”

He’s attempting to break things between you. And his reasoning echoes in your head: You're too sweet for me. At the end of the day, you care for the man you love, have been there for him through the darkness, and have shown him the way it feels to be loved. And he's stepping back because of the words–You're too sweet for me. 

[strawberry-cowmilk]

the brothers when they find mc awake late at night

-> you can't sleep and the brothers find you at 2am

my sleep pattern has been horrible lately (may or may not be due to the smart choice of drinking double espressos at 10pm) so I came up with this idea :))

mc's gender is not mentioned, not proof read

content warnings: (implied) difficulty to sleep, casino mention, maybe a little based on my actions because it's implied mc is awake because of caffeine in some parts

-----

Lucifer

he leaves his office and finds you sitting on the living room couch while everyone should be asleep

hons lectures you a bit as if he didn't sleep an average of 5 minutes every day these past few weeks

it's all because he's concerned though (and he might ban you from the coffee maker after 4pm as if he doesn't drink a cup every hour)

lucifer is weak for you if you'd ask him to sing to you or hold you so you can sleep, he'd do it

Mammon

mammon just came back from sneaking off to the casino and his heart dropped when he heard a noise (he thought it was lucifer but it was just you)

he's like why are you awake and you are thinking the same thing so you two are like that spider man meme where they point at each other

anyways after mammon got a chance to take off his shoes and jacket he offers to go to bed with you but 'only because it would help you, not because he wants to be close'

Leviathan

his average bed time is like 4am and he feels fine so he doesn't make a big deal out of spotting you awake late at night one time

if you want you can come play games with him in his room until you feel tired enough to fall asleep, he recently got this new multiplayer one too

if you don't feel sleepy after a few hours levi will think it's time to sleep anyways, there's rad tomorrow and you have to wake up before beel eats all the breakfast

Satan

satan's average bed time is pretty late too, though not as late as levi's

he actually found you in the kitchen right before he was going to sleep, he was about to brush his teeth and you were just scrolling through devilgram at 2am on a tuesday morning

can't sleep? he offers to let you read one of his books, because they make him fall asleep easier so it might work for you too

if you ask nicely satan might read the book to you and even cuddle you

Asmodeus

he has the least terrible sleep pattern out of all the brothers but this night he had some event to attend, which made him arrive home very late, he just wants to sleep asap now

asmo had a whole heart attack when he saw you on the couch near the entrance, he instantly tried to convince you to go to sleep

like you can do your nighttime routine with him and then he'll hug you until you fall asleep if you'd like

Beelzebub

he was just heading to the kitchen for a snack but you were already there enjoying leftovers from dinner

beel is actually happy you're there, you two can share food and talk, but what are you doing awake at 2am? he's a little worried honestly

after you're done with your snack, beel offers to help you fall asleep if you'd like

you can sleep in his room with him (and belphie too but that man has been sleeping since 5 hours ago)

Belphegor

he actually doesn't find you at 2am because he's already sleeping and won't wake up until maybe 11am

he finds out you were awake because you told him you slept like 5 hours last night

if you told him why, he'll side eye you every time he catches you with anything that has caffeine in it when it's not the morning

anyways he likes you enough to tolerate you waking him up next time you have trouble sleeping, he'll gladly help you fall asleep and see a nice dream

[smoshyourheadin]

Sunshine and Soda Cans

Part 2 - Bubbles

"hey, spencer!" angela jogs up to spencer as you walk into the office. you wander to the kitchen to grab a soda, and put your stuff down.

"(y/n) said shes struggling with editing the new try not to laugh episode, and i don't think she's going to ask for help because she's too stubborn, so can you just check on her and give her a hand?". spencer looks over at you, and back to angela

"yeah sure! i'll catch up with her later" angela gives him a big grin, and then walks over to you, striking up a conversation.

later on, you're sat at your desk, editing away. you've been stuck re-trimming the same clip for like twenty minutes, and you're becoming increasingly frustrated.

"hey, (y/n)!"

his voice catches your attention, making you look up, but not away from the screen.

"hi spence, uh- what's up?" you say, eyes still glued to your screen.

"oh nothing, just checking how you're getting on with the try not to laugh edit. everything going good?"

"no actually' you, look up at him and you chuckle "ive, i've been trying to edit the same clip for like ever, and it won't save properly. im losing my mind!"

he smiles at you honesty, and pulls up a chair to help you out. after about an hour, you two get a bit bored and decide to go live on the games channel, streaming some sims

"alrighty then guys, hello! welcome to the games channel, today me and spencer are going to be playing some sims 4!" you smile into the camera, adjusting your hair, and you relax into your chair.

"guys, can we hate on (y/n) in chat for drowning my sims last time" spencer says sarcastically, glaring at you sassily.

"hey!" you elbow him, playfully "you made fun of my sims' fashion choices!"

he laughs at your anger, and you talk with the chat for a little while as the game loads

"okay, my plan is to make a love triangle in my mansion. i want to see if they can handle the drama.." you say, tapping your fingertips together

"woah, okay dr. evil!" he says, laughing with you

you guys start making some characters that, suspiciously, resemble each other. as you begin to play, your sims keep chatting to eachother

"hey, (y/n), why does your sim keep flirting with mine? got a crush or something?" spencer says with a smirk

"oh, please! my sim is just being friendly! unlike yours, who keeps stealing my sim's food!!! didn't realise your name was tina.." you giggle at your own joke, napoleon dynamite is one of the first things you two bonded over, so you both have a good laugh.

you guys play for about two hours, and then decide to wrap up, finishing the stream

before getting up to leave, you guys share a lingering gaze, and you see the colours in his eyes. you give him a ride back to his apartment, and you turn of your radiohead "in rainbows' cd. weird fishes/arpeggi comes on, as you pull up infront of his apartment. you look over at him with a sweet smile.

"well, see you tomorrow spence"

"yeah. looking forward to it"

you two lock eyes, and then he gently pulls you into a sweet kiss, his hand lingering on your jaw as you melt into his touch. he tastes like mt dew, and you smile against his lips. as you break away, you already miss his lips on yours.

"see ya, (y/n)" he says with a smile and a new twinkle in his eye, exiting the car and walking into his apartment block.

you sit in your car for at least another five minutes; eyes glassy, chest heavy, and palms sweating. you pick up your phone, and open up the phone app, ringing the only person you can think of to call.

"hey jelly, do we have any icecream? i need to tell you what's just happened"

you hear angela open the freezer over the phone, and she says

"yeah, we have some vanilla and i think there's some strawberries in the fridge. everything okay?"

"yeah," you breathing staggers, fully realising what just happened "me and spencer kissed"

"I'M SORRY WHAT"

you hang up, and start driving back to your apartment.

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

a/n— hey!! thank you all so much for the love on part one omg love y’all for that ahhh 😚 my requests are open btw!! so feel free to request anything, not just smosh stuff!! i’ll write for anything (even if im not in the fandom 😚)! okay yeah hope you all enjoy pt2!! love y'all 💛

[animeyanderelover]

can i request characters of your choice from tokyo ghoul (+kaneki, haise and ayato if possible) with a darling whose blood is sweet and addictive like yui from DL?

Last few exams will be written next week and then I only have to wait the last weeks until my holidays. Wish me the best.

Tags: @naeho @flaming-vulpix

Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, obsession, possessive behavior, delusional thoughts, stalking, sadism, isolation, paranoia, clinginess, overprotective behavior, abduction, self-harm, death

Sweet & addictive blood

Ken Kankeki

🔲​Kaneki, who hasn't been a ghoul until the accident, already struggles with his self-control a bit yet his s/o really puts his mental composure to the test. Kaneki would never hurt his s/o, he'd die for them. So why is his mouth watering a bit whenever he catches a good whiff of their skin? That enticing smell invades his mind and fuels his greed for a taste yet as soon as he catches himself indulging in the thought of those primal desires, disgust and self-loathing burns through his entire being. He punishes himself for even thinking about you like this, although all inflicted wounds heal after a while due to his regeneration abilities. He spends hours in his room, tears in his eyes and his own blood coating his mouth and his teeth as he stares at his arms and watches the injuries slowly healing. It isn't enough, he thinks to himself. This pain isn't enough to make up for letting himself develop such vile desires for your flesh and blood.

🔲​Through all of this hatred directed against himself, there's another fear blossoming deep inside of Kaneki's soul. If he already lusts for a taste of you like this, how would it be for other ghouls? Suddenly his thoughts are overwhelmed with images of other ghouls attacking you, tearing you apart, devouring you as your agonizing screams die down and the life leaves your eyes. Such gruesome thoughts nearly make him throw up whenever they won't leave his head and twist and turn his stomach. Despite his disgust for himself, Kaneki follows you around whenever he can and every ghoul he comes across whilst following you, he attacks. His paranoia makes every ghoul see him as your future murderer so he scares them, hurts them and in the worst case kills them. His mind is spinning, his heart is aching and his body is just yearning for closeness with you until Kaneki who has already been cracking under the pressure of his own emotions crumbles apart.

🔲​Your scent soon fills his apartment wherever he goes and it is as soothing as it makes him go a bit crazy. He feels hunger for you, for just a small taste of your blood yet he always holds himself back. You're always uneasy around him as he often just stares at you and you see his entire body softly trembling. Occasionally he takes a step or two in your direction, his gaze needy before he stumbles back again and mumbles something to himself. Kaneki tries to stay away from you but it doesn't always work. You remember sometimes waking up at night to him wrapped around you, his face in your neck as he takes deep breaths and you can feel his own racing heart beat through his chest. If you should ever hurt yourself and the blood just seeps out of your wound, he completely relapses on his delicate control for a moment or two, might even taste the wound with his warm tongue.

Touka Kirishima

🟪Touka has been having some emotions for you for a while now but she has actively tried to ignore them. She's even pushing you away from her, seems short-tempered and brash around you if you should ever try to start a conversation with her. You're confused and wonder if you've done something wrong yet really, none of this is your fault. At least not a fault you made consciously. It's just that your scent ...drives her a bit mad. Touka has never wanted this obsession with you and as if her own emotions aren't already enough to give her a headache, your very sweet blood rushing through your body complicates it all a bit. It isn't that she's about to lose control per se as she has experience in controlling her appetite but the combination of her feelings and your sweet smell seem to make it so difficult for her.

🟪She knows how most humans view ghouls so she is very bend on never letting you find out what she is because as tough as she may try to be, she fears to see her darling being afraid of her due to her being a ghoul. Yet she also knows that not all ghouls will be as careful around you as she is so Touka often starts stalking you or just simply walking you home. Honestly, her behavior contradicts itself often around you because on the one hand she avoids yet also often accompanies you but it's not like you'll get an answer out of her for this. She does all of this for protection because she is fully aware that ghouls might very well come after you for your sweet scent. No one will harm you under her watch though because even with her quiet and aloof exterior at times, she is very ready to become violent for your sake.

🟪Her secret can't remain a secret forever though and eventually she sees herself forced to tell you the truth about her biology and also reveal to you what your sweet smell does to the hunger of a ghoul. She has to swallow back her her emotions when she sees the fear blooming on your face, some of it also directed at her. This is what she expected but still... seeing it hurts. This reveal doesn't have to end in an abduction though and she makes that clear to you too. If you just do as she says and let her continue watching over you, she would be willing to let you live on with your life as you're used to it. Although she knows it'll probably never be quite the same for you again now that you know what she is and are also aware just how special and sweet your blood is for her kind.

Ayato Kirishima

🌌Ayato would rather come up with every other excuse than the one that involves him admitting that he harbors deep inside his heart romantic attraction to a human. Your sweet and special blood is so used as his best excuse to deny his feelings and instead make it look like he's only obsessed with you due to your addictive blood. He's very straightforward in clarifying it to every other ghoul that they shouldn't dare to harm you unless they want to be attacked and murdered by him. Ayato is very straightforward with his territorial feelings and every ghoul who resides even close to you will be beaten bloody by him to the point where even their regeneration won't do much for them. He's big on just stalking you for a couple of months because he still doesn't know what to do with the mess of emotions inside of him. He knows who is to blame for it though. You.

🌌The time eventually comes where Ayato grows sick and tired of seeing you walk around and be so unaware and in good spirits whilst he is tearing himself mentally apart because of his conflicting emotions and has gone on a killing spree just to prevent any other ghoul from attacking you and devouring you. You're such an ungrateful brat. You don't deserve to be left like this, so carefree and happy with your life. He abducts you because he's spiteful and angry with you. A part of him just wants to see you suffer a bit so that he can feel better about himself and also convince himself that you're nothing more than a petty and pathetic human. You should be careful not to anger him since Ayato is very trigger-happy the first few weeks after abduction because your constant presence confronts him harshly with his true feeling for you.

🌌He's being a sadistic asshole for a while with you and hurts you on purpose to taste some of your blood, his tongue digging into your injuries as he watches you squirm with discomfort and tears in your eyes. Ayato is being careful enough to not injure you seriously but enough to make you fear him so that you will listen to him and enough to quench some of his lust for your blood. Passing time changes his heart slowly though and to his huge shame he finds himself growing a small soft spot for you. That's the last thing he wants, he doesn't want you to realize that you are a weak spot for him since he has a fear of you abusing his feelings for you for your own selfish purposes. Sometimes his love for you slips out though and instead of a harsh bite you expected from him you feel a rough kiss being placed on your skin, one that has him recoiling when he realizes what he's just done.

Nishio Nishiki

🎓​Nishiki has some conflicted emotions regarding his obsession with you too because humans were the ones who took his older sister away from him by murdering her. He won't deny that he holds a grudge against your kind but he's more mature in handling this situation. He can't deny that your blood has him lusting for a taste of you too but he knows to wait a bit and to not act too impulsively. Most importantly is that he realizes that you might be targeted by other people of his kind thanks to your rare and sweet blood and the enticing scent you carry around with you. To prevent anyone from hurting and/or killing you to enjoy you as their next meal, he opts to worm his way into your life as quickly as possible in order to have a good eye on you all of the time and prevent anything from happening to you.

🎓​There is a deep-rooted fear of Nishio to lose you too because he has lost the most precious person to him already with the death of his sister. Even if he doesn't show it, he is a tad bit paranoid to lose you as well now that you've grown on him so much. Perhaps this is why he turns into such a controlling individual around you and has set his mind to achieving a certain level of influence over you and your life. For that he uses his charm and his intelligence to get approval from your friends and your parents to have them put trust in his words and his judgement too if you shouldn't be as obedient and follow his decisions as he would like. In his mind, you just don't know any better though. You're only a human and differently from him, you've seen nothing. Nishio thinks of himself as better suited to make decisions involving your life.

🎓​He can't help himself at times from stepping closer to you and taking a few deep sniffs of your smell. As good and experienced he may be in regards of his hunger, a few weak moments still happen from time to time. He keeps everything a secret from you as long as he can though, including why he always has to accompany you and why you aren't allowed to walk around alone at night. When the time comes for you to find out though, Nishiki actually uses it as a way to blackmail and manipulate you further. If it wouldn't have been for him, you would have been attacked multiple times already by a ghoul. The only reason why you're still alive today is because he protected you and fought for you against other ghouls who planned to ambush you. Don't you understand him? You need him.

Shuu Tsukiyama

🍷​Tsukiyama is a self-proclaimed gourmet in the world of ghouls and one who wouldn't even shy away from cannibalism if it would present him with a new and unique flavor to explore and present to other ghouls. So when he one day just walks through the city and you just happen to pass him on the street, leaving a trail of your sweet scent behind you, he knows that he has found his next attraction, his next meal for him to taste and gush about. He doesn't just abduct you instantly though as he thinks of such a sudden act as bland, tasteless and beneath him. Instead it almost appears as if this young man is courting you at first with sweet words and lots of presents whilst simultanously having to swallow back his saliva by constantly being surrounded by your excellent and mouth-watering aroma.

🍷​His obsession for your mere blood deepens during this time where the unknown eye just assumes that this flamboyant young man is just courting you. Your company is genuinely enjoyable and he soon starts thinking about you as more than just the next fantastic meal for him to discover and present to others. Your personality is adorable and sweet and he genuinely enjoys teasing you and making you a tad bit uncomfortable. This triggers the abduction though because Shuu is ridiculously jealous and possessive over you all of a sudden and even with romantic feelings now involved, Shuu is still a sadist. In one moment he can be sweet, clingy and doting and in the next moment he pins you down with a creepy grin on his face as he rips your shirt away from your body, sniffing your bare skin and letting his tongue glide across you before letting his teeth sink into your flesh, enjoying his taste of your sweet blood that he won't share with anyone else.

🍷​By the time his father finds out about you and the way his son has treated you, your already covered in bite marks and scared for your life. Needless to say, you're rescued from Shuu and taken care of by the Tsukiyama household with Shuu strictly forbidden to see you. The man throws the biggest scene ever as he throws a temper tantrum, begs his father to let him see you again only to start crying when his father tells him harshly off and refuses to let his son see you until he has learnt how to treat the person he claims to love. Mirumo is utterly disappointed with the way his son has treated you, apologizes to you and promises you to never let such terrible things happen to you again. Shuu is kept for as long away from you until his father deems him to have learned his lesson, although even then Mirumo still is in the same room as you when Shuu can finally visit you again.

Uta

🎭You've stumbled by sheer chance into his store but find yourself staying for a while longer since you've never seen someone like Uta before. Uta, upon first meeting you, seems to realize that you are quite special too. He can tell as much from your scent that even makes his mouth water a bit but he hides it very well as he just starts chatting with you about random stuff now that you're here anyways. Initially he doesn't seem to care much for you, seems only interested to see how long you can manage to stay alive with that sweet blood of yours. As time piles on though and you continue to visit his shop since you find the owner of it so unique though, he has a chance of heart as he decides that you're too special to be killed. It would be a pity if he would lose his little muse because some ghouls couldn't control themselves now, wouldn't it?

🎭Uta is a bit more lazy so he wouldn't want to go on a killing spree or stalk you everyday if he can take other meassurements to ensure that no other ghoul touches. His occupation as a ghoul who crafts masks for a lot of ghouls is a small help as he always finds out about rumors and current events through his customers by sparking some conversation with them. If one of his customers happens to mention a human with very sweet blood, Uta automatically knows who he has to target if it should come down to it. All of his laziness aside though, Uta can be exceptionally cruel and sadistic if he should ever come to the point where he has to get rid of a threat. He takes your protection very serious so he would be damned if he would let someone else ever dare to touch you and take you away from him.

🎭You've grown accustomed to Uta's very quirky sides. He is just very weird so at one point you stop protesting when he sometimes leans closer to you and starts sniffing you like some sort of dog. Uta keeps his identity initially a secret from you too but eventually he just decides to tell you about what he is. Trying to escape is useless, he's locked the door up so you have nowhere to run. No reason to be so skittish though, he doesn't plan to kill you. He'd just like you to be his, his sweet muse. If you do as he says, he'd even let you leave again. If you tell anyone though or try to run away, he will come for you and he will find you. Uta is quite chill most of the time but he has his short sadistic moments where he just decides that a small taste won't hurt and so you can only sob silently as teeth cut through your skin to taste your blood only to have him afterwards hush and comfort you through your pain.

Haise Sasaki

🔳​Sasaki is more responsible and mature although also painfully good-willed to the point where he might appear as a tad bit naive. He isn't aware who he used to be in his past though so perhaps that's why he can be the way he is. He works to protect people against ghouls so his darling falls into the category of people he has sworn to protect. Yet something about their scent is quite enticing and sweet even for him but he would never admit that. He knows that it would sound very creepy to others and he himself recoils out of shame and embarrassment whenever he gets a bit too lost in the scent of yours. Instead he hides all of his thoughts and just acts around you like he acts around everyone else. A bit more reserved but still very polite. Maybe just a tad bit kinder to make up for thinking about you in such unsettling ways, even if you don't know about that.

🔳​Perhaps his willingness to be nicer around you to make himself feel better about his thoughts regarding your scent are what really starts his obsession as he spends more time with you. Partially to still do everything to make himself feel less guilty and partially because he is capable of realizing that every other ghoul would come after you for your sweet blood. Because he spends such an abundance of time with you, he really starts getting to know you and even starts developing feelings for you. You're kind and adorable and some part of him just wants to protect you from this cruel world that will rip you away from him and- He doesn't even know where those dark and intrusive thoughts come from but he knows that he has to push his growing feelings away as such creepy ideas start infiltrating your mind and he finds himself sometimes thinking of just locking you away and shielding you from all evil in this world.

🔳​He knows that he already spends a lot of time with you but somehow this doesn't seem to be enough. He wants to be even more with you but in order to not be seen as too clingy, he starts stalking you. It is embarrassing and shameful but he really can't help himself. He just has to protect you and a small voice in his head always reminds him that something could happen to you whilst he is gone and fuels his paranoia a bit. When you hug him, a part of him really just wants to hold you and never let you go so that he can get lost in your sweet aroma but he holds himself back from doing so, although his body starts slightly trembling as this takes a lot of his self-control. He does his best to hold himself back as good as he can but it's undeniable that some part inside of him, someone else inside of him, just wants to lock you away, keep you and murder everyone who would dare to touch a single strand on your head the wrong way.

[suzukiblu]

nest, den

Superboy doesn't even know Superman's secondary gender. His scent blockers make it impossible to tell, and he can't even begin to guess from how he acts. Superman doesn't ever growl or use an alpha voice or purr or rumble or hiss or keen or . . . anything like that, at least not that Superboy's ever heard.

Westfield was an alpha, though.

Superboy doesn't know what he's gonna present as himself, but he really, really doesn't want to end up an alpha. Westfield's pheromones were nauseating, aggressive and overbearing things that'd made him want to puke, and sometimes he worries that if he presents alpha, maybe he'll smell like Westfield did. Maybe he'll smell exactly like Westfield did.

He already looks exactly like Superman, so . . . why wouldn't he smell exactly like Westfield?

Westfield scented him, once. Superboy still remembers how bad it'd felt.

So the idea of ever smelling anything like him ever again, even if it's technically his own scent . . .

Superboy doesn't know if he . . . if he's gonna present as a . . .

He probably won't be lucky enough to be an omega, though if he had a choice, well–he'd wanna be that, he thinks. He likes the thought of, like, making a nest and feeling safe in it, and maybe . . . maybe someday having somebody in that nest with him, and feeling safe with him. Feeling . . . safe, and . . . content, maybe. Content and–taken care of.

He knows he's not really the type to make anybody feel like that, though. But even being a beta would still mean he could calm and soothe and steady people and would still be miles better than being an alpha like Westfield.

Superboy's not sure if he's really the beta type either, is the problem. He's . . . he's too much. Too aggressive. Too loud. Too violent. Too defensive and possessive and demanding and greedy and . . .

Maybe Superman's an alpha too, he tells himself. So maybe if he's an alpha, it'd just be because Superman is.

Maybe he'd smell like him, not Westfield.

Superboy has no idea what Superman smells like under his scent blockers, but he desperately, desperately wants to know.

Specifically, he wants to know what Superman smells like under his scent blockers because he wants Superman to let him know. He wants Superman to take his blockers off and step in close and rub the scent glands in his wrists against the ones in his throat and mark him.

Superman wouldn't, of course. Why would he? Superboy wants him to do it so bad it hurts, yeah, but he hasn't earned him doing it. Can't imagine how he ever could. He's not . . . he isn't . . .

Superboy isn't anywhere near as strong as Superman, and isn't very smart or all that good with people or really even useful in any way that Superman himself isn't a thousand times better at being, and really isn't much more to him than an extra pair of hands on occasion. Maybe, like, a more durable than average errand boy, if said errands were things like "go catch that falling citizen while I beat up this evil robot dude" or whatever.

But not anything more than that.

He knows Superman would never . . . would never want him for pack or anything, never take him back to his den or even just let him den down in his territory himself, but . . .

Superboy doesn't have anything to bring to a pack, after all. Nothing to offer except all the things he's not.

[spaceless-vacuum]

Salutations! I was wondering if you are up to writing another Yandere Ganondorf. I previously read one you wrote, where Ganondorf tries to romance an heir to a small kingdom, and I was wondering if you are willing to write another with a similar plot. I quite like how the reader gives in to Ganondorf to save their people from ‘war’, but I would like to see how Ganon would react if he was denied. I would like to see the reader as cold and wary of Ganon’s attention and honesty and preferring to prepare for war instead of allowing Ganon the pleasure of their hand. Scared that they would be hurt if they fall to Ganondorf’s whims, even telling it to his face before abruptly leaving. It would be nice to see it! Thank you and have a pleasant day!

Ganondorf by nature is a very wise and cunning man. Every action he makes is carefully planned out and he is being heavy handed for a reason. He knows that this is the easiest way he can get what he wants from you. If he pushes the people above you, you'll have no choice but to bend the knee. Your refusal to bend not only makes him want you more because it makes you a tougher catch, but it also shows you're not simply willing to bend to him. That protective spark shows up and he both wants to take you away from the people who would withhold your freedom from you and give you to him; and he wants to help them push you further to him. He plays both sides of the field and will win either way. In his eyes it's all a matter of time. You have nowhere to run. If nothing else works he'll just run through your kingdom with an army but that is hardly any fun, and you need a reminder that he knows more than you do about this.

He gains a rush by being able to force others to bend to his power. It proves to him that he is above everyone and while he wants you to submit he also really enjoys it when you don't. Something about a defiant streak really just proves to him that he made a great choice in his darling.

Ganondorf isn't known for being a kind ruler or even a kind man to those who oppose him. He is willing to steal from anyone and will kill people for simple insults and it's clear he doesn't care for the lives of anyone in your kingdom. It wouldn't be hard to rally the people to your cause. You could even convince some senators as well, but by the time you speak to them you're going to realise that Ganondorf already has approached them. He's no stranger to the darker sides of people's hearts, he is a demon's rage reincarnated, they deal in sweet but evil packages, and he knows how to worm evil into people's hearts. He has spies in your walls and they are more than willing to help if the price is right.

They won't leave with their heads and if you suggest for it he will happily execute all those worthless worms who would dare sell you out. Anyone who stands by you is a threat- but anyone who sells you out is dead.

The whole time this is going on he's dancing around the topic of marriage and why he wants your hand. The way he dances around it to your face doesn't stop him from being heavy handed. You're blunt and not afraid of speaking your mind. He loves the way you're not afraid of him. You don't hide what you're thinking or how you feel just to appease him. It doesn't stop him from pulling you into his lap, sending you gifts, giving you clothes that are only suited for his homeland, requesting you come home with him, or even saying to your face what it is he wants to do with you once this game is over. He enjoys it more because you're willing to stand up to him and call him out on how his actions are inappropriate.

Ganondorf loves the chase and the thrill of the hunt and you darling, will make a magnificent prize once your kingdom is set to sorrow. Losing their ruling family will be such a loss. Especially once the kingdom's heir is taken from them. He doesn't want to hurt you but he does want you to come at least somewhat willingly. Even if that means war he will certainly do that. It would set him back a bit to do so but he's done more for less. 

The people of your country think you're so strong and kind hearted to stand up against him. You had to outmanoeuvre him without giving yourself up, which is hard to do against a man who is used to getting what he wants through both brute force and cunning.

Offering him a slap to the face, metaphorically and possible literally, was expected but he will make you pay for that. He enjoys a feisty prize but he can't stand to appear weaker and will have to teach you a lesson. probably by killing your people and blaming it all on you. He won't play fair and once he has you in his arms. Rubbing your loss in your face while talking about how this all could have been avoided if only you let him step on you to get what he wants.

He hates being bored so having a chase is good for him. He still showers you in gifts and takes you out to show you off but having to plan out ways to keep you by his side by force or manipulated compliance is such a threat to his ego. The goal is to one day have you as a loving spouse he can dote on but for now all of this political talk will keep him happy. For now. 

Being able to see you all warmed up to him after the years of backlash will warm his heart…just a little. Now he just has to convince you to let him start a family.

taglist: @monkeyking-and-liuer-mate

[justapoet]

a key on the chain (take it with you and run)

“Annabeth Chase,” the man repeated, as if it meant something more than just a random name. “Isn’t that why you chose this house?” “Why, on Earth, would I pick a house based on whether or not this Annabeth Chase was my neighbour?” Percy asked. “To catch the cat!” the man explained, and Percy sincerely laughed. “What cat?” Percy asked, now wondering if he had drunk something that tasted bad or a bit out of the ordinary. He must have been sleeping, having those weird dreams some people claim have meanings but, in the end, were just a bunch of thoughts squeezed together in a juice jar. “The one with the key." OR, Percy wants a new beginning back where he came from. He moves to New Rome, a quaint neighbourhood in New York, where every single man seems to make a life out of chasing a yellow cat with a key around its neck. Whoever catches it, apparently, won't be denied the prize they all seek: Annabeth Chase's — the most beautiful woman around — hand in marriage. Percy doesn't get it, and much less wants to engage with such activities or with the mysterious woman. But it's a bit harder when she lives just next doors, and the yellow cat becomes a faithful companion of his.

Read it on Ao3

It was ironic, honestly, that he was standing at the door of his new house in New Rome, a quaint neighborhood in New York, New York, after he had decided to sell his house and get the hell out of the simple neighborhood he lived in Rome, Italy, for so many years. Ironic, to say the least, because Percy hadn’t even registered how the place was called before he had set foot back in the United States, his life all packed up in a bunch of luggage and Ms. O’Leary, his loyal companion, by his side.

And he should have registered it, probably, because it would be a responsible thing to do. But in the hurry he found himself in, and the crisis that was the catalyst for the sudden, brutal change of life and routine and choices, Percy didn’t think of much before buying the house and getting on a plane to sign the papers and get his keys.

Now, there he stood — in front of a small, dainty house, with brick walls and a wooden front double door and a large windowsill that gave it all a sweet, home-like air. It was the perfect definition of cozy, the front lawn mowed, and some flower bushes making it look even more graceful than he had first thought it’d be. The place seemed to come from a picture, those beautiful illustrations on books about fairies and magic and hope, and Percy wondered it that would be enough to settle his unsteady heart and calm his troubled mind.

Because the place was beautiful, and yet he couldn’t see or feel the hope of new beginnings that so many people had told him it would bring; he was standing in front of what now was his house, the boxes and furniture already inside for him to organize and distribute as he would like, and Percy could only feel tired. Not from his travels, not from having to put everything to a place — but he was tired, overall, and the weight of his choices and the paths he’d walked seemed to rest over his shoulder.

He was back in New York, and there was nothing really there for him. Not anymore, because he had decided to travel the world so many years before and, at some point, he had stopped keeping in touch with everyone he left behind. His mother, father, stepfather, stepmother, half-siblings and friends — he hadn’t talked to them in years. Long, long years that seemed to now taint his past and shadow his face and cloud his memories of what it was like to be with them, to be there.

And maybe being back should be inspiring. Perhaps being again in north American territory should give him the hopes and the energy to reach out and try to find them as soon as possible; but all he felt was dread. Dread, and dreadful fear that he had lost that part of his life — the one that made him who he was — forever, and because of his terrible choices and the terrible feelings that had settled in his chest so long before.

He was staring at his house, and Percy wondered how long it could take for him to feel at home.

Because it once was home to be in New York, and he had forgotten how it felt. It once was home to never belong anywhere, traveling around and meeting new people and meeting new cultures and faces and languages, until the moment there was nothing but emptiness and the everlasting feeling of missing someone, something, somewhere.

His family, and everything they meant. He feared their anger, despite knowing that was what he deserved, after all. After so long, after so much pain he was sure he had caused them through the years he never even gave a sign of life.

New beginnings should be scary, yes, and ultimately exciting.

Percy was simply terrified.

Ms. O’Leary, on the other hand, seemed thrilled about having new places to discover. Her tail hadn’t stopped moving from the moment they got out of the taxi — who charged him an absurd amount of money upon seeing the dog, but that was quite alright at that point — and Percy had opened the gate that matched the fence circling the property. She had barked and set off to run around, and Percy couldn’t help but chuckle.

At least one of them was excited enough for both.

Percy sighed, taking the key to his front door so he could finally come in and see the mess he’d have to face and make more of soon enough until he could properly relax and rethink every single step of his life. Ms. O’Leary had already made her way to the backyard, somehow, and he could hear her barking at something — probably nothing at all —, chuckling a bit more at his best friend’s happiness on stretching her legs.

He shook his head, rolling his eyes fondly at the mental image of Ms. O’Leary simply running in circles around the area he was yet to see. Then, he looked up again at the doors, and inhaled deeply.

And his dramatic entrance to an empty house as a metaphor for his empty life was rudely interrupted before he could even fit the key in the door.

“So, you’re the lucky one?” someone spoke behind him, and Percy snapped his head in the voice’s direction, turning his body around as well, key still in hand. A man stood behind his fence, a heavy terracotta coat hanging from his shoulders, a suit underneath it and a black Panama hat tucked to his head a bit too much. His face wasn’t sympathetic, and instead he stared at Percy as if he was a bug the man desperately wanted to step on.

Weird. To say the very least.

“Uh— Hello?” Percy greeted, unsure of what to make of the situation. “I beg your pardon; ‘the lucky one’?” he frowned, and the man seemed to snap out of whatever it was that crossed his mind.

“My apologies. Welcome to New Rome,” the man spoke again, now taking a few steps to walk past the open gate and offer his hand in greeting. When he was close enough, Percy, still incredibly confused, shook the man’s hand.

“Percy Jackson,” he offered. “Thank you.”

For the welcome. Not for whatever it was that had happened before.

“Luke Castellan,” the man replied in earnest, his handshake firm before Percy let go of it. “First time in New York?” he asked, and Percy couldn’t quite pin down what it was that seemed so off about the sympathy in his tone.

“In a couple of years, yes,” Percy limited himself to say. Then, his curiosity got the best of him. “What did you say about me being ‘the lucky one’, may I ask?”

Luke’s smile seemed to tighten. Percy decided that it was best to be careful.

“The house,” Luke said. Percy frowned.

“Why? Is it better than the others?” he asked, looking back at the house behind him. When he looked at Luke again, the guy had an eyebrow raised.

“It’s beside Annabeth Chase’s house,” he spoke again, his tone implying that the fact was somehow obvious. Percy was sincerely beginning to think the conversation couldn’t possibly get weirder.

Rookie mistake.

“Who?” Percy could only ask, tilting his head to the side.

Luke frowned, then. Now, he seemed genuinely confused. Percy wanted to say that he had no right to — what, on Earth, was that man talking about?

“Annabeth Chase,” Luke repeated, as if it meant something more than just a random name.  “Isn’t that why you chose this house?”

Percy’s face was probably odd to look at, now that he was sure it was completely contorted with his bewilderment. His mouth was slight open and twisted, and he couldn’t narrow his eyes more before completely closing them.

“I chose the house my realtor offered me,” Percy said. “Why, on Earth, would I pick a house based on whether or not this Annabeth Chase was my neighbor?”

“To catch the cat!” Luke explained, and Percy sincerely laughed.

“What cat?” Percy asked, now wondering if he had drunk something that tasted bad or a bit out of the ordinary. He must have been sleeping, having those weird dreams some people claim have meanings but, in the end, were just a bunch of thoughts squeezed together in a juice jar.

“The one with the key,” Luke spoke again, and Percy could really wake up right then. He moved his arms and hands in exasperation, completely lost, and shook his head, eyes wide as he tried to understand what the man could possibly be talking about.

“Do you seriously not know?” Luke asked, and he seemed truly surprised. Percy would need an analgesic for the building headache on his temples.

Percy shook his head in disbelief yet again.

“Man, I just got back from another continent. I do not have the most single idea of who the hell Annabeth Chase is, what a cat and a key mean or how the house I now own has to do with it.”

Luke stared at Percy, who just stared right back as he tried to get his point across. After the better part of a minute, the brunette man seemed to have accepted that the newcomer really didn’t know what the hell he was talking about, and his gaze turned apologetic.

“Okay, then. I’m sorry, man,” Luke spoke, putting his hands in the pockets of his coat. “It’s just an ongoing competition for Annabeth’s cat and their key.”

Percy frowned again.

“Competition?” he asked. Luke nodded.

“It’s a thing we have around here,” he began, and Percy tilted his head. “The house beside yours belongs to Annabeth Chase, the most beautiful woman in the neighborhood. Dare I say, and any other person, the most beautiful woman in New York,” he explained, and something in his tone, again, seemed to put Percy on edge. Luke looked at the house he was talking about, the glint in his eyes with something much more distorted than what someone might mistake for affection. “Every single young man in the neighborhood had offered her their hand in marriage, and desperately wanted to wed her,” he told him, and Percy visibly winced. Luke didn’t notice.

Marrying someone for looks? Asking for their hand in marriage because they look pretty?

The discontentment was clear over Percy’s face. He was definitely going insane.

“She refused one by one, and yet they came back to ask her again. Expensive gifts, poems, songs; they tried to convince her with everything, anything they could buy and hand her,” the man continued, and Percy felt a pang of sympathy for whoever the woman was. What a tragic thing, to be seen as one more object those men could be handed and pay for. “One day, though, Miss Chase grew tired of all men knocking on her door and proposing ridiculous things. So, she made a challenge — whoever caught her cat and the key on the cat’s neck, would not be denied her hand in marriage. Since then, there’s been a whole thing trying to catch the animal: cages, traps, the most unhinged plans seen. No one could ever catch it.”

A wave of satisfaction rolled in his ears, and Percy made his very best not to let it trespass to his expression. He sympathized with the woman, and somehow was intrigued by her presence and the plan she had made — it was odd how she knew that the cat wouldn’t be caught, and yet a high risk to take if she didn’t want any of those men by her side.

Something, Percy thought, that no one could possibly blame her for. One needs to be pathetically vain to try and win someone’s heart as a prize, and not ever think about treasuring it as it should happen. And agreeing to go after a cat instead of just, perhaps, asking this Annabeth out and trying their luck by being normal people? Percy didn’t think that he would like a single soul in the neighborhood.

“They stopped coming to her house,” Luke carried on, taking Percy back from his thoughts and judgements. “And, to this day, everyone tries to catch the yellow cat with a hanging key and earn her love,” he concluded, and looked at Percy again, who was trying his best not to roll his eyes in front of his new neighbor. Those men could be trying to earn anything, but not her love. “We were all curious, then, as for who had taken the house closest to hers.”

Percy blinked, shaking his head.

“I have nothing to do with chasing cats and hanging keys, man, I can tell you that much,” he said. “I just got the house.”

“We all see it,” he said.

“And I would much rather the accusation stopped, Mr. Castellan, for I have no intention to add ‘trapping a cat’ to my routine,” Percy spoke, a little more serious. “I have nothing to do with this odd contest of yours, and I intend to keep it that way,” he explained.

Luke seemed a bit convinced. And a bit too smug for Percy’s liking.

“You’re a first, then,” the man said, and Percy arched an eyebrow. Luke sighed. “My apologies for the accusations, Mr. Jackson. The subject just tends to get on our nerves.”

“I figured,” Percy said. “If you’ll excuse me, Mr. Castellan; I’ve had a long day.”

The man nodded.

“Of course. Have a good afternoon,” he complied to Percy’s farewell, touching his hat and then turning around to leave the property. Percy watched him go for a few seconds, and then decided that it was too much to process standing at his doorstep.

He was intrigued, to say the least, about the whole scenario he had just been presented to. A woman with whom he couldn’t help but sympathize, being chased and wanted like some sort of prize for someone’s ego and pride. A cat that seemed to outsmart a whole neighborhood — though, after the whole story, Percy couldn’t believe it was that hard to do it —, and a bunch of grown adults who didn’t have anything better to do but to watch every person’s moves and doubt their smallest intentions.

Amazing. And he thought he’d find some peace by being back at his childhood town.

Read the rest on Ao3!

[ashintheairlikesnow]

A Kindness

CW: Runaway whumpee, referenced hunger/malnourishment

Timeline: After Jameson escaped from Robert but before he found a safehouse

For @amonthofwhump Tropeathon Day 3: A Long Cold Night

-

It’s fucking freezing out here. Jameson thought California wasn’t supposed to get cold like this, but just his goddamn luck, it definitely does. 

He’s curled up against the heavy concrete beneath the overpass, using it to block the worst of the wind. There are a scattering of tents around him, others who have figured out some slim form of shelter. There’s a couple fires going, too, but Jameson doesn’t want anything to do with the people circled around them, sharing stories and in-jokes. They’ve been out here for long enough to know each other. To trust each other, more or less.

Like everywhere else he goes, Jameson doesn’t fit.

He sure as fuck doesn't trust.

When he finds other runaway pets, they think he’s frightening. The twisted scar near his mouth catches the firelight too well. He's too brash, too angry, someone who might be violent.

When he tries to stick around non-pets, they read him like a book and treat him like shit on the bottom of their shoes. Or try to sneak up on him when he sleeps and get a hand down his pants, assuming that he won’t fight back, because everyone knows Box Boys will lie back and take it, right?

Well, Jameson isn’t like other pets.

He isn't just any Box Boy.

Nanda taught him how to survive, no matter what it cost. Nanda taught him-

Goddamn fucking dead Nanda.

If he wasn't so fucking dead none of this would be happening.

Jameson closes his eyes against a hot rush of tears he refuses to allow out, not now. Not when he knows he's being watched, considered for whether he might have a few dollars that could be stolen or if he could be held down and made to accept their touch. He won't be.

The ones who try learn that real fast not to try again, once they have busted lips and black eyes and, in one case, a set of balls so bruised and twisted that the asshole who tried to make Jameson kneel for him is definitely sterile now.

Cold nights make his legs ache, the final loving legacy of the braces he’d worn for too long that never let him stand all the way up. Two goddamn assholes had put those on him, and he'll never be free of the pain. Jameson ignores it, grinds his teeth until his jaw hurts worse than his legs ever could. He can ignore it just fine until the weather gets cold.

Mostly.

There’s a scraping off to his left, footsteps crunching on gravel and shards of broken glass. Jameson’s knife is in his hand as easily as he breathes and he’s already got it brandished when he turns, putting a sneer on his face, leaning into the ugliness of the scar that twists one side of his mouth more than the other. “Listen, motherfucker, try to stick your dick anywhere near me and I’ll fucking cut it off-... shit.”

His voice dies as he takes her in.

She’s small, almost dainty looking. He reads her for what she is in a heartbeat, the grace in every movement carefully trained until it was no longer a conscious choice, the soft skin that had spent a long time moisturized and cared for at odds with the hackjob and clumsy box-dye red she’d done to her hair to try and make herself less recognizable. She’s drowning in a man’s overcoat at least four sizes too big and so long it’s dragging the ground, heavy boots that she has to be wearing at least three pairs of socks to fit into. She’s wearing leather driving gloves too big for her hands. 

Her eyes are wide and frightened.

But she's not frightened of him.

She reads him right back, and they recognize each other before a single real word is said. She manages a slight, trembling smile. Jameson feels the snarl fade off his own face. They might have trained together, not that he remembers much of training.

“... can I sit with you tonight?” She asks, voice low, glancing nervously over her shoulder and then back to him. “Please? You’re, you were one too, right?”

Jameson’s jaw works.

He should tell her to fuck off, this is his spot, leave him alone. That he’s not nice, he’s no one anyone can trust. He’s been owned three times and twice they made him live on his hands and knees, once he starved, once he watched people die over and over again until he sees their faces every time he sleeps. 

He didn't deserve to be the one who lived after it all, but he's the one who would do anything not to die, so here they are. Here they fucking are.

Instead of rejecting her need for even one small kindness, he replies instead, "Yeah, whatever. Go ahead. Don't try to talk to me about it, though."

He closes the knife, letting it slide back into his pocket as she makes her way to him, dropping down to sit beside him, curling her knees to her chest and pulling a hood up over her head. Jameson feels… settled, at the gentle unassuming touch, her weight barely noticeable when she leans slowly until her head rests on his shoulder. She smells kind of gross, but he probably does, too. Who knows when either of them last showered?

“Sorry,” She whispers as she slides her gloved hand into his, twining their fingers together. 

“Uh-... what-... what the fuck are you doing-”

“There’s a guy who won’t stop following me around.” She keeps her voice low, turning and lifting her chin so she’s almost kissing Jameson’s cheek right over his scar as she speaks. “I told him you were my boyfriend. Can you-... just pretend to be, for a while? We’re good at pretending we’re in relationships, you can do it, right? I knew when I saw you that you’d been like me.”

Jameson fights the twist of pain.

Pretending we’re in relationships.

That’s as close as he’s ever going to get, and even that was ripped away from him. Jameson never even got to tell him-

He shuts that thought down.

He doesn’t think about Nanda anymore. He doesn’t think about anyone unless it’s to hate them - that’s easier. 

All he does is nod, giving a smile - fake but to anyone else it looks warmly genuine. He can make any expression an owner wants on command, still - the scars and bald patches where hair used to be, rubbed away by the muzzle day after day, make it a little scarier. But it never looks like a lie. 

“I got you,” He murmurs back, and kisses her forehead like they’ve known each other for forever. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a man lurking, skulking around, one eye on the girl all the time, watching Jameson slide an arm around her waist with barely concealed jealousy. Jameson shoots him a serene smile, pulling the girl tightly against him. 

It’s going to be a long, cold night, and he’s not going to sleep at all.

The girl dozes off almost immediately, finally feeling safe enough to sleep, and that… that helps. A little bit. 

It's a kindness.

-

@finder-of-rings  @endless-whump  @arlin-always-writing  @newandfiguringitout  @doveotions  @pretty-face-breaker  @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow  @boxboysandotherwhump  @oops-its-whump  @cubeswhump  @whump-tr0pes  @yet-another-heathen @whumptywhumpdump  @whumpiary  @orchidscript  @outofangband  @eatyourdamnpears  @hackles-up  @grizzlie70  @mylifeisonthebookshelf  @keeper-of-all-the-random-things

[fridgrave]

it was the first night since they decided to sleep in different rooms. first weeks they couldn't.

ranboo never trusted the life they started, the fake feeling of safety that came after moving on the different side of the country, hitchhiking with charlie days and nights until they stopped in the middle of nowhere. they will find the trace of their life before showfall, even if charlie doubted he had one, but ranboo remembered some faces and names, like it's a spot that gone through cheap laundry. starting all over again was hard, but not harder than sleeping at night. ranboo always kept one eye open, expecting to see white masks in the sharp shadows of a small room.

charlie tried to sleep not far away, mumbling nervously through his dreams until ranboo woke him up.there was no night without nightmares that tried to crawl in charlie's head, and ranboo had no other choice to wake him up before it gone too far. it never gone far enough to make charlie scream in his sleep, but ranboo wouldn't let it happen anyway. even a whisper was enough to keep them awake until it's completely silent around.

they barely slept, deciding to have rest by turns, and managed to deal with it for almost a month, until charlie catched ranboo after their job and declared:

"i will sleep in the living room now. on the couch."

ranboo sighed. he was expecting something like this, seeing mall-sized guilt in charlie's eyes every morning. charlie blamed himself for his nightmares, he always did, and deep inside ranboo realized that was the main cause of their restless nights. they really wanted to sleep.

"what does it matter if you will scream and wake me up anyway?" ranboo asked, and charlie steadily shaked his head.

"i don't think i will, man. if i was a screamer, it would've happen at least once already".

and it was a fair point, ranboo couldn't disagree. it wasn't a big deal after all, but ranboo felt guilty as well for his very light sleep. he didn't had it before, even in the cabin while dem- charlie haunted him and sneeg. ranboo wished they knew how to sleep like that at least for one night.

so it was the night of that day, and ranboo felt weird without a sound of someone's unequal breath on the other side of the room. charlie was in the next room, probably being on the edge of a nightmare, and thinking about it almost made ranboo to get up and check for him, but quiet and lousy voice at the back of their head reminded them to have a rest while they can.

"it was charlie's decision, he wants you to sleep, and if you won't he will be upset more than if the nightmare disturbed him. go only if he screams"

ranboo heeded, but walls kept him from any sounds on the other side. even if nightmare fell on charlie, he wasn't loud enough to get attention. and it felt bad, but their eyelids felt like lead, and thoughts were slow like the eighth hour flight. if he closed his eyes just for a-

low sound of falling reached ranboo's ears, roughly pulling him out of his dream. "3:56" on the clock dimly shined in the dark, making ranboo almost happy — it was more of night sleep he had before, even if the night wasn't really over.

they sat down on the bed when they heard the loud noise from the kitchen. if charlie decided to make himself something after a nightmare, it wasn't a good time for that. especially for someone, who moved in another room only to let ranboo sleep in silence.

ranboo picked up his knife he always hold close, for the case it was someone besides charlie's midnight hunger, and carefully looked out of his room. couch was empty, messy blankets lied on the floor like someone fell of and stucked in them.

"charlie? you woke up?" ranboo asked in the apartment, going further and looking in the dark of the kitchen. turning lights on was painful for their eyes, but that helped them to see a puddle of water, shattered glass and tableware on the floor. charlie stood right there in the middle of that mess, wet, weirdly looking ranboo in the eyes and holding a frying pan in one hand.

"what happened here? charlie?" ranboo made a little step, making sure they won't hurt their feet. "you had a nightmare?"

kitchen light eery reflected in charlie's glasses. he spread his hands a little, water dropped from his hair and face like he took a shower in his clothes.

suddenly, charlie grinned.

"i am your nightmare! boo, bitch!"

and ranboo felt a smack of the pan over his head before lights gone off again.

[aimfor-theheart]

wolfwood office au but hes a new employee (and ex felon) and youre assigned to help the new hire

anon i love you this is so specific. have you been thinking about this for awhile or something.

office au

wolfwood x reader

cw: maybe like. potential workplace flirting. reader flusters easily and has glasses. reader referred to as "miss"

∘₊✧───────────────────✧₊∘

you adjust the glasses slipping down your nose, flicking through the paperwork on your desk. it's already a little rumpled somehow and you smooth it out carefully. your neat, french manicure gleams in the stark light from the window beside you. your cup of tea sits cooling beside your cup of adorably colored pens.

you read the filled in answers, written in messy scrawl, the ink bleeding across the page. there's a coffee stain in the corner. and—tobacco stains, maybe? a burnt orange dash of color near the bottom.

your eyes flit across the page.

you catch the checked box next to have you been convicted of a felony in the last five years? the little dash beside the yes stands out sharply for a moment.

carefully, you keep a neutral face and keep reading. there's no space to see what crime he may have committed and you certainly won't ask. it doesn't matter, anyways. he got the job, didn't he? and besides, before the felony, his resume is rather impressive. seems like he made some incredible deals—damn near a con man—

you shuffle through more of the papers. you'll have to file all of them.

a knock on the wall beside your desk.

you pick your head up to take in an unfamiliar man. tall and broad shouldered, all shaggy raven hair and olive brown skin. he's handsome in that roguish, wild way. he's in a suit, at least, sharp looking. his ears are pierced. some rings on the fingers that rapped against the wall to get your attention.

"i heard you're my new assistant."

your brows raise. he doesn't exactly look like what you imagined the new vice president of sales to look like, but here he is nonetheless. he's younger than you'd thought he'd be. but when he smiles, you could see how it might be smarmy enough for sales.

"nicholas?" you ask in response, rising from your desk to greet him with a handshake.

"nick's fine. i heard you could show me the ropes around here a little." and this time when he smiles, he really takes you in.

your hand is so small in his.

you don't know why but heat touches your face. you pull your hand away from his quickly and adjust your glasses again to look up at him. "alright, nick. it's—um, nice to meet you."

"nice to meet my next partner in crime, too."

you swallow. funny choice of words that—

"and—yes. i can do that—show you around, i mean. i'll help finish getting you onboarded."

he glances around at your desk area; the flourishing plants and the color-coded pens and cute mouse pad. everything is in its place. even the papers of his you'd been reading are laying neatly on your desk.

"you seem...organized." he says, shoving his hands in his pockets, wandering a little closer to your desk. "which is good—i'm no good at that shit."

you clear your throat, "that's what i'm here for." your eyes flick over him; the lopsided smile and the cursing and the faint smell of tobacco clinging to him. and a cologne—something muskier. amber. and tonka. it's not that he looks like an ex felon or doesn't—just that, he isn't exactly what you were expecting either way. "shall we?" you ask.

he inclines his head, gesturing for you to go first like some kind of faux-gentleman. "after you, miss."

you smile nervously and turn, "um—i guess i can start with the tour?"

"that the fastest way to get coffee around here?" he asks, trailing behind you, your massive shadow.

you peak over your shoulder at him, glasses slipping down your nose again, "um—you can just ask me too, if you want—the old vice president of sales asked all the time—"

"not gonna make you get my coffee. you'll be doing more important shit for me than that." he says casually, and his eyes lock with yours again.

you quickly duck away from his gaze, focusing ahead. you shove your glasses back up your nose.

"i like your glasses, by the way. cute frame. they fit you." he says easily.

heat smarts your face. you blink rapidly.

"uh—thank you, nicholas."

"nick's fine, miss."

"nick. right." you say, swallowing around the name, "thank you."

"i'm real excited to work with you—i think this is gonna be a great pairing."

and you don't turn around to see it, but you can practically imagine the smile in his voice. just on the wrong side of wolfish.

in another universe writing game!

[ladychota]

Run

Pairing - Loki x Female Reader

Warnings - Kidnapping, heartache, physical fighting, running away (lmk if you want me to add anything)

Summary - Loki's past actions have finally caught up with him.

Word Count - 1.4k

A/N - Based on the song 'Run' by Snow Patrol!

Masterlist

There are many things Loki has done in his life. Many things he's done wrong. And he knew they'd catch up with him eventually.

He just hadn't thought they would so soon.

You and him were planning what to do when the inevitable would happen: you'd saved up money, quit your jobs, sold the majority of your furniture and started to pack and make travel arrangements.

Loki hated to do this, especially to someone as amazing as you. If life went his way, he would've left you much sooner so you wouldn't be involved. Or, even better, he would never have taken things to the next level with you at all. 

He'd tried to gently break it to you. He'd tried to tell you he was running away and that you had to stay behind for your own safety. But, you being you, wouldn't let him leave without you. And, him being him, gave in to your stubbornness much too quickly.

In all honesty though, he's rather glad you insist on following him to the edges of the Earth and further. In all the wrongness in his life, it seems you're the only thing that's right. If it weren't for you, he's not sure he could've made it this far.

You'd both planned to leave in a few days, the final preparations being made to fall off the grid and into a life of constant running.

"It's okay," You had told him, running a gentle hand across his face. "We'll find a safe place eventually. And even if we don't, at least we'll be together,"

Loki could hardly look at you after your understanding words, but when he finally did, the small, worried smile sprawled across your features almost killed him with guilt. How could he do this to you? Force you into a lose lose situation? Either you stay with him and end up running for the rest of your life, or you never see him again.

He wants you to be happy and have a choice, even if he's not there. And he knows that you staying with him will take everything from you. You've already sacrificed so much for him, so how could he ask you to lose anymore?

Yet, every time he would bring this up with you, you'd always answer the same:

"You are my everything, my love. As long as I don't lose you, I am happy,"

So the plans were made. And they were so close to being complete. Bags were half-packed, the house close to empty. Any devices had been disconnected from the mains and abandoned, the last traces of the two of you inhabiting this small living space slowly being wiped away.

Loki had one more day to watch your tense body as you sped around the place, ensuring you had everything before you left the following night.

However, as per usual, the plans you and him were so close to completing were foiled. They arrived without being noticed - the both of you too distracted to sense something was off - and attacked when they were least expected.

"Do you think we should sell this?" You ask Loki, pointing to the kettle. He cringes, thinking of all the tea he won't get to brew; all the tea he won't get to drink. "And before you say anything," You continue. "We'll find tea somewhere, love. It's not exactly hard to ge-"

There's a loud crash; Loki instantly moves to shield you as the door is blown off its hinges and smashes onto the kitchen floor in a mess of small wooden fragments. Daggers form in his hands as the intruders charge forwards, aiming to capture him and anyone involved with his 'scheming' dead or alive. Blood is shed, the house: wrecked. Both you and Loki fight to keep your freedom - or at least, as much freedom as would be allowed in your current situation. More and more intruders barge into the house - much too many for two people to deal with on their own. 

Loki is - of course - considered as the main threat, and therefore is swamped with the most attackers. He's pushed further and further into the house; further and further away from you. Upon noticing the absence of you fighting by his side, he has a horrible realisation.

It trips up his heart, leaving it hanging by a singular, fraying thread. All he knows is he has to get back to you. He has to, for who knows what could happen otherwise? You are strong, and a remarkable fighter... yet you are just a mortal. Your strength has its limits, and though you've awed many by surpassing those limits time and time again, you can't do it every time.

Loki uses his newfound fear and anger of the situation to create a wave of magic so strong it knocks back the majority of the attackers. He pushes past the rest of them, sending daggers and bolts of acid green magic in the direction of anyone in his way.

But it seems his attempts are futile. For every attacker he shrugs off, they're replaced by at least two - he's struggling to shake them all.

A sudden soul-shattering scream from somewhere nearby slashes at the final string holding his heart, sending it plummeting into an abyss of fear and horror. The feelings well up inside him, overwhelming his senses as he calls out for you.

Through some miracle, Loki manages to drop all who were attacking him. He sprints through the open front door, yelling your name as if it'll magically bring you back to his side so you may run away together.

He watches through eyes slowly clouding over with tears as you're manhandled and dragged across the floor to a van. You fight against the iron grips of the attackers, unbothered - or perhaps unbeknownst - to the blood smeared across your face.

Loki yells once more, shrugging off the hands of people who try to grab him. Attention is brought to the God, and he thinks that perhaps it's the perfect time for you to free yourself.

But instead, you simply stop.

You stop fighting. Stop shouting. Instead, you murmur eight words meant only for his ears.

"Run," He hears you say. "Run and don't you dare look back."

Without thinking twice about it, he does. He runs as tears begin to overspill, trickling down his face and undoubtedly leaving blotchy red trails. His footsteps fall heavily on the ground, his breathing unnaturally quick. 

Loki keeps going - he keeps running until he's far away from the house, far away from the attackers, far away from... you. Eventually he can't move anymore and collapses on a park bench who knows where.

He's hungry, sweaty and exhausted; but most of all, his heart feels as if it's been dropped in poison. He just simply left you in the hands of those monsters. He left you to suffer on your own.

He left you behind.

And deep down he knows that your final words to him didn't just have one meaning.

Yes, you didn't want him to see you get thrown into the back of a van as if you were a ragdoll. Yes, you didn't want him to watch you get manhandled and hurt in the process.

But you also don't want him to look back on you. You don't want him to think about what was or what could have been. You don't want him to dwell on his mistakes and how he believes he led you into this. You don't want him to believe this is his fault.

You want him to forget about you so he can move on and potentially have the chance to be happy. And Loki knows this.

But how can he be happy when he's not with you?

He sits exhausted against the bench, the usually beautiful setting sun feeling as if it's taunting him. Fire-like rays of orange spread across the ground, the light making it look as if the trees are black with charcoal. 

Loki wonders if he should listen to you. If he should forget about you and move on; leave you with those horrid people. A very small part of him thinks this may be the best option... for him at least.

The rest of him knows he can't just leave you there. It could kill you. He also doesn't believe he can survive without the constant light you bring him. 

Shakily climbing to his feet, he begins work on a plan to rescue you and carry out the life you both used to wish you could have - a life where you don't have to run away. A life where you can be together without the constant fear.

Loki makes a quiet promise to himself, one he hopes he'll never break.

No more running.

[kay-then-i-guess]

This redesign page of my Roleshuffle AU Techno has been sitting in my drafts for a while, so let's talk my Techno design! I already have a post discussing why I made him based off an overworld pig, so check that out first if you haven't seen it. I can't really summarize it.

Something I'm doing to show "the voices" getting louder without having to use text is making his pupils get bigger, and potentially have little red glints. I know normally the more insane a character gets, the smaller their pupils gets, but I wanted him to appear a little more animalistic. While the small pupils give a very manic, crazed look, I wanted Techno to look completely focused--almost too focused. As aforementioned, animalistic. I probably won't get to the point of what actual pig eyes look like (fully black with the whites in the back), but I do want to get a similar idea across. This choice also makes him look less aware of any dialogue going on, which I is something I've been trying to do with "the voices". No thoughts, only Blood For the Blood God.

Also! I swear during a Techno stream he had a skin with a blue sweater. Maybe I dreamed it, because I couldn't find it anywhere, but I distinctly remember his chat teasing him for it, with him responding "It's a sweater!" But I digress. Perhaps I just imagined that.

Below is the original design I had for him, and was one of the first design sheets I did (if not the first ever; I don't particularly remember). I was originally not leaning into such a cartoon-y style, but I really got into that style as I started actually making the comic. (His mildly realistic teeth in that top left image haunts me.) In other notes, I think either because of the way I did his legs originally or the way I did his head originally (both were a bit elongated), he didn't look short. Part of that is because if you measure out his full-body shot, every portion of him is roughly the same length. I.E. his head is the same length as his torso, and his torso is the same length as the legs. If you take any character design course, one of the things they'll probably note is that for unique character designs, it's a good idea to mess around with proportions (both length and width). It's tough to figure out, but once you have that idea in, you can make your characters look more unique. For instance, while Techno's longest bit is his torso, in width, he has smaller legs and a bit smaller head. On the other hand, Ranboo's longest bit is his legs, and in width, the widest part is his head (if you count his little floppy-ear-thingamajigs). I really struggled implementing this tip for a while, but woooo, once I did, my designs got a lot better. I still could stand to put it in more, to be honest haha.

Also, personal note: I didn't mean to go on such a long break, but finals have been rough (3 essays, all at least seven pages...yikes). Anyways, I'm going to have a lot to catch up on, but I AM NOT DEAD. The comic will go on! It just might take a bit, and I thank all of you for your patience! :) (Also, I'm still running character asks if you're interested!)

[nogenderbee]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ ℝ𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕠𝕗 𝔹𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕤 ₊˚ˑ༄

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ @bleachtheidiot @prsk-krow @modyuki @virtualpoison @miguelito-maruti-blog @hakulivesformusic @hayillaaaaaaa

ᵀᴼᴰᴬʸ'ˢ ᴬᴿᵀ : Beneath the Everlasting Ringing of Bells - Kanade Yoisaki

QUICK NOTE: written for fem!reader, sorry!!

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

You messed up BAD... you were right now at your friends... no... your crushes wedding!! You thought it's just flying crush but no! Even now, when you're already an adult, you still have this fluffy feeling whenever you see Kanade...

Thanks to you being the same gender tho, you got to see her early as you helped her get ready. You were happy for her... you truly were! But at the same time... you couldn't accept it... But she looked so pretty and you didn't wanted to ruin this day for her...

"Kanade... do you... love him?"

You asked catching her off guard a bit... you simply wanted to ask to make sure this is gonna be right choice to let he go... to make sure this is the right guy for her, even if you yourself wasn't convinced...

"I... it's for my dad... I have to... I'm sure I will someday. He... he's not bad, I want to believe."

That honestly only made you worry... Why's she married someone she doesn't love? Sure, her father is in very bad health situation and this man has lots of money and contacts but still... there's surely a way to make it work and get a happy ending for everyone?

"(Why must she always put everyone before herself... I know it's her dad but current doctors aren't bad ar all! And... I could work extra if she...)"

You looked up and saw her slowly walking away. Of course it hurt... it hurt like hell... You were about to go bur her other friend gave you a "go for it" look ans somehow you felt like teen again. Not caring about the consequences and just wanting to go with current emotions...

"Kanade!! Wait!"

You yelled speed walking closer to her. When she turned away to look at you, your heart skipped a hit. You literally forgot how mesmerizing she looks thanks to all this rollercoaster of emotions...

But even then, you had to stop yourself from admiring her and do your best to not let her end up with that asshole!!

"Kanade, listen! I know your dad is important to you but... He's a complete asshole. He doesn't treat you right, he insults you.. are you sure it's the right choice?!"

"If it's for my-"

"Do you really think he'd be happy seeing you give up your own happiness for his health? He's kind man, I know that... But..."

Seeing how your words struct her to state of small paralysis, you decided to take a big breath and as your last resort of wanting her to be happy, you decided it's now or never... go big or go home...

"If... I know how it sounds but... I'd give up my everything for you and your happiness. I may not have much but I PROMISE to take extra hours at work to help you out however I can! Just please don't end up with him. I... I love you too much to let you so that..!!!"

You panted a bit as you let out everything that was on your chest for so many years... heck, you even had to look at floor for a while so your confidence wouldn't suddenly disappear as you realized how many things you just said.

"... I... I can't promise to give up on the idea of wedding all along, but... I'll go there and tell them I'm not ready. If I'll be sure he won't need more professional support, I promise I'll reach out to you..."

She gave you a gentle but also the sweetest smiled, clearly thanking you for breaking through her and for not giving up. And she also promised to reach out to you!!

"(Well.. maybe she doesn't love me back but... at least she'll be happier than with that bastard.. hopefully...)"

"Oh and maybe..."

Your eyes shifted from the ground to white haired girl, look of appreciation and slight proudness replaced by small surprise and curiosity, wondering what she could want to say that her voice sounded so serious all of the sudden... she even stopped mid way and gently turned to you.

"maybe... WE will have our happy ever after if everything goes right..."

She sent you another grateful smile and that was when you knew... you could due happily now that you know the girl you loved so much returns your feelings!

You put one hand to your heart as you looked into the sky, gently whispering important words that were meant for girl occupying your mind, but since she was gone, they were for your ears only~

"I'll do my best for that to happen, you have my word..."

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

[wilderness-of-thoughts]

Before:

In your hand you held the file with the information Gojo received about the mission in the Old Temple. At first glance it was obvious that this was one of those missions that higher-ups gave him just to piss him off. Curses were not categorized, information was fragmentary, it's like someone telling you: Go out there and do something, just tire yourself out and waste your time.

Gojo didn't file his report but the mission was already marked as done. Probably by machine and even if he hadn't done it, the higher-ups might not have noticed. Or they would have been bugging him about it. Fuck knows.

You were sitting on a rock, holding a bitten apple in one hand and a folder with documents in the other. Several cases of disappearances over the last half-century, with complaints from nearby neighbors about feeling unwell. In the past, this place was a temple to a minor deity worshiped by local residents due to the belief that the deity speeds up justice?

You frowned. Speeds up justice? In what sense?

It was not explained. In any case, after Hiroshima, the locals worshiped the deity fervently for a while and then just as quickly forgot about it. For about a decade the land had been looking for a buyer and the temple had fallen into disrepair. For some reason, those willing to participate withdrew, but there was no mention of any tragedies associated with it. In the archival photos the temple was small but neat, with several people praying in front of a wooden chapel. Now this place looks unrecognizable. And it's not because of time or forgetting, but because of damn Gojo Satoru. You quickly gnawed the rest of the apple, the core still in your hand. Looking up from the documents, if anything had been standing here three days ago, there was no trace of it now.

All that remained of the chapel were scattered planks, a torn trunk from an ancient tree, and everywhere around were strewn stones that had once formed a small symbolic wall. In your mind's eye you saw where Gojo's energy balls went when he shot them in his fit of rage. You have no choice but to ask the locals about this place. You got rid of the apple core, put the briefcase in your bag and, licking your fingers after apple juice, went to do the job.

∆∆∆

Satoru was sitting in your apartment at the time. You still hadn't spoken to him. You got up in the morning, washed yourself without a word, made him breakfast, turned on computer for him and simply left. He guessed it was probably about his contraction, but you could have at least said "good morning honey, how did you sleep?" But nooo! The great lady is offended! Fuck you.

How long can you be angry over a stupid tap?!

Gojo, instead of thinking about how to apologize to you, was plotting how to piss you off. You can hate him, you can yell at him, but you can't ignore him! And he had a nightmare. He felt in his bones that the whole charade of pretending to have chickenpox would backfire. He could already feel his skin itching.

This time, however, you thought of some entertainment. Gojo was currently maneuvering the computer mouse while standing on your desk. He briefly looked at the desktop wallpaper. Anime character. Some sexy guy smiled flirtatiously and winked. Gojo didn't know this character.

You left your computer unattended, you didn't have any passwords. It was natural for him to want to dig through your files, look in your Fap folder, glance at your browser history. However, there are certain privacy boundaries he won't cross.

He's not the worst after all. Yes, he was tempted, but he came to his senses. And it had nothing to do with the fact that he didn't expect anything out of the ordinary from you - damn, you were a nerd! Weird fetishes are an everyday occurrence among nerds. It was more that he expected you wouldn't come back soon and just don't catch him. If you caught him, you'd be furious and the problem would go away. You'd pay attention to him.

So Gojo did something he had wanted to do for a long time but simply didn't have time. He started watching movies. And only sometimes - exactly every fifteen minutes - he accidentally looked at watch.

∆∆∆

You returned to your apartment in the evening. Your legs were aching. The local residents of the Old Temple didn't tell you much. They blamed the destruction on hooligans, or lightning, or both. One even got caught up in a long and convoluted story about government and a national conspiracy that somehow involved aliens? Crazy people are everywhere.

You were still waiting for a simple "sorry" from Satoru who was now sitting calmly on the couch. You just looked at him and went to your computer, curious if he found something to do while you were gone. And in that moment something inside you broke.

"GOJO! You idiot! What have you done to my computer?!"

"I just fixed the look and a few things." He replied, teleporting next to you. He was very pleased with himself, staring at you like a picture with an expression like he won the lottery. You reacted.

"my desktop..." You spoke in disbelief. Instead of your newest crush, there was a picture of Gojo, a selfie he must have taken when he was still normal height.

"it's not over yet" he said excitedly as if he was really proud of himself. "I changed your system language."

"...What?" Indeed. You were greeted by Arabic dashes and dots. "... Why?"

"you once said you wanted to go to Egypt. See? I listen to what you say! I remember!"

"... But I.. change that to normal!"

"I can't"

"WHY?!"

"I don't know Arabic" he shrugged, still staring at you with admiration.

Ok. He won. You've had enough. You've given up. The silence treatment has proven to be a double-edged sword again.

Taking a few deep breaths, you looked at Gojo's face. At his pretty face, at his big, full blue eyes staring at you the whole time, at those delightful cat ears catching every your word. He purred softly, smiled, delighted. You spoke to him. You paid attention to him. You didn't ignore him. He had your full attention now.

"Why did you do it?" You asked as calmly as possible.

"I was bored."

"you could have watched movies, anime, read something..."

"and I did it, but I was bored anyway"

"Okay, I promise to talk to you, but please don't do things like that again." Your voice was breaking with despair, you were already trying to come up with a plan to fix your computer.

"Deal." He purred louder now, wagging his tail in a sweeping motion. "I know what we can do. So that you don't worry about me breaking something and I don't get bored." He leaned against you. You felt like you were making a pact with the devil. "Just take me with you!"

"But you're so small..." You said with confusion and concern in your voice, your mind clearly worn out by nerves eagerly grasping at the substitute topic.

"I'll hide in your pocket, or your purse, or on your shoulder. Oh, and if you put on a hoodie, I can sit in the hood!" He had already thought everything out. It wasn't a request or a proposal. It was an announcement to you that Gojo would be accompanying you from tomorrow. "you can be grateful to me. You won't get hurt or anything! So it's settled." You won't win against him. You sighed heavily, but you clearly gave up.

"Okey..."

"Really? Great! I'm glad. Because you know, I thought you'd still resist, so I changed your passwords too"

"WHAT?!" You squealed. "What password "

"I'll tell you when you apologize nicely for being offended by me breaking your faucet." He crossed his arms over his chest, very proud of himself.

When Gojo returns to normal size you will take a vacation.

Or will resign from job.

You will leave the country.

And you will change your name.

You now wonder if women can become Shaolin monks...

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