#when my brain worms get violent

[ptnbunnie]

Falling in Love (not)

Hella’s not homophobic she’s just done with those two lovebirds

If you guys wanna use the images here you go

[ceilidho]

‘John price with a single mother this’ ‘Simon Riley with a single mother that’

Yeah yeah keep yapping. Now ME? I think we’re seriously undervaluing the sheer perfection that is Johnny fucking MacTavish with a single mother. He’s insufferable. If there’s an opportunity to worm his way into your life permanently, he’s taking it. My brains fixated on newly moved in neighbour reader and Johnny just comes back from being deployed and there’s this pretty woman next door and woah! bonus points! She has a baby!

He’s bouncing off the walls. He’s sick. Almost first thing he does after seeing you come in and out the flats alone a few times is ask if your lad is around. Has to try so hard to pretend to be sympathetic when you say he did a runner when he found you you were pregnant.

He’s actually spectacular with babies. Makes a point of it whenever he sees you with the kid too; always makes her chuckle, goes out of his way to prove that he’s great with kids. Works his way into it, builds a rapport so when you’re called into work for an emergency you just can’t miss the first person you go to for babysitting is Johnny. When you get back, he’s ‘asleep’ on the couch with the baby on his chest and you just don’t have it in you to wake him so you just sit on the other end of the couch and wait. When he does ‘wake up’ it’s a bit late to be kicking him out so you just offer to let him stay night (this becomes a reoccurring theme).

Starts referring to the you and baby as ‘the bairn’ and ‘his lass’ long before he even asks you out. Asked out for drinks? No, sorry. He’s got to go home to his lass and the bairn. Is he busy this weekend? Yeah he’s taking his lass and the bairn to the amusements. Frequently confuses work colleagues and friends alike because when did Johnny have time to A. Get a girl and B. Shag her enough to knock her up???? Will NOT correct anyone who calls him your husband or the baby’s dad, and will actually get upset if you do.

The moment you agree to go out with him he’s micromoving you into his flat (he’s already looking for houses). Has pictures of you and the baby up on his wall in less than an hour of you being his girlfriend. The ‘spare’ crib is already assembled. He’s already picked a ring. He’s insane. He’s in love. He’s known you for like three months. He’s already got the next like two pregnancies planned out (he wants a big family. No he hasn’t asked you yet). Actually kind of deludes himself into forgetting the baby isn’t his biological child. Wdym it’s not his kid it looks exactly like him??? I think he would actually get a little violent if the baby’s father randomly popped up demanding visitation out of the blue. Said baby’s father is not heard from again.

Anyways I’m insane and in love with Johnny MacTavish and his silly deranged ways send tweet

i want you to know that i woke up to get some water in the middle of the night and happened to check my phone and see this and i had to physically hold myself back from answering it at like. 3am.

first of all, i love you. second of all? i love this. i have been repeating "his lass and the bairn" in my head for like five hours now. johnny deluding himself into thinking the baby is actually his? that little gasp you heard was the last little bit of air in my lungs escaping before i expired and died.

there's no way he wouldn't end up saying something batshit crazy like "look at his wee little nose - just like his daddy's huh?" and you'd just be frozen staring at the two of them. maybe your baby's nose does look a little like johnny's but - that doesn't mean - is he just joking or -?

[scribbledghost]

a Neighbor!AU idea that has wormed its way into my brain and won't leave:

You're visiting Simon on-base for the first time. Partly as a way to see how he lives when he's not at home, and partly to meet the rest of 141. You're in Price's office with the rest of them, simply sitting around and chatting.

And suddenly an alert goes out. The base is on lockdown for some reason or another, but it's clear from the announcement that there's some sort of immediate danger. Simon's demeanor switches on a dime. Mere seconds ago, he was relaxed. Content, even. But as soon as that alert pops off, he changes.

You've never seen Ghost. You've heard of him from Simon, he's showed you the mask, and you know that technically they're one and the same. But Simon has told you in no uncertain terms that Ghost stays in the field. That Ghost is merely another side of himself whose sole purpose is to get Simon home alive. And once that mission is completed, he's just Simon again.

Not now though. Now, he's Ghost.

He wastes no time shoving you into a corner, standing in front of you with his back to you. Guarding you like a trained animal. You watch as he barks out orders to Soap and Gaz and discusses possible s.o.p.'s with Price. You hear him talk of an exfil, of ways to covertly get you off-base with the lockdown in effect. It's as if a switch has been flipped.

He accepts no words from you. Any attempt to ask what's going on or offer any suggestion earns a quick "hush" as he reaches back and squeezes a hand on you. The hand he lays on you is the only remnant of Simon you can see in him now - because even in the midst of a crisis that requires him to fully be Lieutenant "Ghost" Riley, even if he is verbally blunt and curt with you, he is physically still gentle.

Price manages to talk him down, but only slightly. He convinces Ghost to wait just a moment before proceeding with an attempted exfil, just to get more intel on what the situation really is.

"Anyone comes through that door, you drop 'em," Ghost orders.

"With what?" Soap asks. "We're unarmed."

"With your bare hands, Sergeant," Ghost replies coldly. "Either you kill 'em, or I will."

"An' what if it's some poor recruit that got caught out in the open and just needs a hideout?"

"Then they should've picked a different room."

A chill runs through you. You'd known in the periphery that Simon has killed before, a fact that's simply a given since he's an SAS member. But you'd never been faced with it so closely.

"No one's gonna come through the door," Prices says, holding a hand up like he's trying to calm a spooked animal. "It's locked three times over and reinforced."

Simon - Ghost - still has a hand on you as you stand behind him. The atmosphere is tense, and time slows to a crawl as you wait for more information to arrive. It's not as though you feel unsafe; you know there are few places in the world where you would be safer in your current situation. But there is still the nagging feeling that you're being guarded by a pack of wolves, all tightly-wound and liable to snap violently at any sign of movement.

Then, suddenly, another announcement.

An all-clear. Apparently some rookie had gotten their signals confused and thought there was a danger when there wasn't. A classic false alarm.

The collective task force (yourself included) seems to release a held breath at the same time. You watch as Ghost's shoulders sag, and you watch as Simon returns when he guides you out from behind him. You can tell he's still rattled, you can tell there's still vestiges of Ghost wafting through him like dark smoke. But for now, you all take some time to catch your breath and come down from the adrenaline high.

Maybe later, you'll talk about what happened. Maybe you won't. Either way, you've gotten to see much more of the militant side of Simon than what he'd bargained for when he brought you with him to the base today.

You're still not quite sure how you feel about it.

[wordstome]

symbiote König x reader

I'm not allowed to start any new aus/stories until I finish a few, but I need to expel these worms from my brain. (also remind me to write something about Eddie Brock/Symbiote Ghoap x reader later)

I don't know if you guys know much about Venom lore, but symbiotes don't have a default system of morality: they take on the same traits and moral values as their hosts. They were created as a sort of world-conquering mindless evil force, but when symbiotes bonded to hosts who wanted to do good, they took on those moralities and became ashamed of their purpose. After they imprisoned the dude who made them to be evil (Knull, btw) they just made up a lie that their species was naturally benevolent.

So picture this: symbiote König who's been captured alongside several others of his kind and brought to Earth by the Life Foundation to study their abilities. I like the idea of symbiote König being similar to Eddie Brock's Venom: he's had bad and good hosts, but the bad ones fucked him up really bad, so now he's the König we know: arrogant and confident in his proficiency in violence, but deeply awkward, lonely, and lost. Getting kidnapped and taken to yet another foreign planet to be poked and prodded and experimented on is just his luck.

But then there's you. A pretty little scientist, not much more than a lab assistant, really. Your first encounter with him consists of you touching a finger to the glass of his prison, and him, curious, moving himself to press his inky dark goop where your skin presses against the glass. You giggle before quickly remembering yourself and skittering away. Symbiotes aren't fond of sounds, but he wouldn't mind hearing that one again...

It's little encounters like that that endears you to him. It didn't take him long to decide he hated humans: they're slow and unintelligent and nowhere near as elegant of a killer as he is, and yet they've managed to trap him and torment him. He's quickly noted as being the most unpredictable and violent of the captured symbiotes. But he likes you, who visits him and talks to him. To you, it doesn't mean much: you may as well be talking to a lab rat, finding an outlet to vent your frustrations about your insane work hours, demanding managers, and meagre pay. To him, he's absorbing everything you tell him, longing to touch you without glass in the way. What would it be like to bond with you, he wonders? To merge symbiote with flesh, and become two moving as one?

He'd like to be inside you, in more ways than one perhaps.

He may have fucked that up, though. It wasn't his fault, that day. They were starving him, these idiotic humans, starving all of them. He had no choice but to eviscerate and wholly consume the poor man sent into his glass cage. But you had been watching, eyes wide in terror, as blood and viscera burst everywhere. If he had a heart, it would have ached as he watched you skitter away...

And yet...there may be something deeply wrong with you, just as there is something wrong with him. Because you're back the next day, a new fascination in your eyes. Instead of talking at him, you talk to him now, asking him questions he only wishes he could answer. If he could just reach you, he could communicate...

König gets his wish the day it all goes awry. A whistleblower breaks in and makes off with one of his breathren, and the next person to stumble upon the scene is his little scientist, who doesn't hesitate to start smashing the glass of his prison. "It's not right," you mutter over and over again. "It's not right..."

He can detect your heartbeat speeding up as he drags himself across the floor to reach you. You shy away out of instinct, and he pauses. There are alarms ringing out now, awful terrible loud sounds, and he would prefer to get out of here immediately, but he refuses to do anything that would drive you away for good. He watches as you heave a deep shaky breath, then reach out a hand to him.

He glides up your hand and wrist, working his way into your body, the symbiosis instant and easy. You're a perfect match. He knew you would be. The armed guards burst through the door, but you have nothing to worry about as he envelops your body. You become a six foot ten behemoth, face hidden by what almost looks like a veil—something he picked up from a former host. You're barely aware of what's happening, too overwhelmed and confused to parse what's going on. But he knows what he's doing.

After he gets you to safety, the two of you will have all the time in the world to get to know each other.

[darby-rowe]

18+ | nsfw | mdni cw dark!academy!coriolanus, dark!fem!reader, degradation, physical violence (reader gets shoved against a wall and slapped), READER RECEIVES RAPE & ASSAULT THREATS, f. masturbation, dead dove do not eat, not proofread

it was never your intention to make coriolanus mad. all you were trying to do was keep your grades and reputation as clean and pristine as possible, which just so happened to land you at the top of your class. and you were proud of yourself! you thought it wouldn't hurt to gloat about it, even just a little bit. but the sheer anger in coriolanus's eyes assured you that your achievements were not well received by everyone.

this is how you found yourself getting violently shoved up against the wall of a secluded hallway; coriolanus's hands gripping your forearms so tight you were sure they were going to leave bruises. the back of your head cracked against the wall making you dizzy, and when coriolanus noticed that you were a bit out of focus, he took his big hand slapped you so hard across the face you saw stars for a moment.

"listen to me, you pathetic, supercilious worm," coriolanus's blue eyes were filled with hatred, and his words spat down at you with pure venom. you couldn't help but let out a whimper. "whatever you're doing right now? it's done. you are to stop this nonsensical attempt at humiliating me and my family name. if i find you parading yourself around like you're some academic genius again..."

the way coriolanus paused and inhaled before saying his next words made you shiver, and his breath was hot against your ear.

"i will not hesitate to knock you the fuck out and rape your worthless, unconscious body,"

coriolanus stormed away with his composure just as quickly as the confrontation started, leaving you shocked and shaken at how violent his words were. what could you have possibly done to deserve such vicious threats? you were only just trying to survive the demanding academics of the academy just like everyone else. as shaken as you were, you were also so, so confused.

and your confusion only grew when you finally realized how wet you were between your legs; having to rush home after the day was done to lock yourself in your room and touch yourself.

coriolanus's brutal promise replayed in your mind as you furiously fucked your fingers in and out of your pussy. flashbacks of the intensity of his voice and his hot breath against your ear swam in your mind.

"—rape your worthless, unconscious body," were the last words you heard in your dark imagination before you were a whimpering mess, humping against your fingers as your orgasm pulsated throughout your body. feeling your walls tighten around your fingers as your pussy lightly gushed out juices from the intensity of your climax.

and as you laid there, body limp from fucking yourself, there was a sick part of your brain that hoped coriolanus didn't go around giving empty promises.

[callofdudes]

Call of Duty's How to Train Your Dragon pt1.

A/n: Is this finally being created after @itsscromp finally got my brain worms wiggling again? Yes. Is this also a get better fic? Yes. Is it an entire script for a move? Also yes.

Yes, it's also just shy of 20K words so... This half of the post is only about 12K. If you like httyd/cod crossovers you've come to the right place. But if you want to give it a chance and have a shit ton of free time. I'd also be honored.

Hiccup: Y/n. Astrid: Ghost. Fishlegs: Gaz. Ruff/Tuff: Soap. Snotlout: Graves.

I will reblog with the second half of the fic. Cred for the divider used goes to @straywords

This is Berk. It's twelve days north of Hopeless, and a few degrees south of Freezing to Death.

It's located solidly on the Meridian of Misery.

My village. In a word, sturdy. And it's been here for seven generations, but, every single building is new. We have fishing, hunting, and a charming view of the sunsets.

The only problems are the pests. Even if they carry away all our food… You see, most places have mice or mosquitoes. We have…

Y/n opens the door of the large house structure, watching Vikings go running by, a monstrous nightmare stalking across the ground, talons digging into the stone. It turned it's gaze on the door, letting out a stream of fire from its gut. 

Y/n quickly slams the door shut as fire flicked up between the cracks and fades into dark smoke.

-dragons. Most people would leave. Not us. We're Vikings. We have, stubbornness issues. 

Y/n rushed outside, smoke billowing into the clouds from the fire torching into the wooden buildings.

My name's Y/n. Great name, I know. But, it's not the worst. Parents believe a hideous name will frighten off gnomes and trolls. Like our charming Viking demeanor wouldn't do that.

Y/n falls back against the ground with an earth quaking tremor as another dragon flies into the area. Several Vikings greeting them. You. This is you. Flabby skin tight arms wrapped around thin layers of barely noticeable muscle.

Clothes seeming too big and too small, hands as soft as a newborn despite the experience in the forge. The only place you ever seem to be helpful no doubt. 

What a life a Viking like you lives. You're bloody useless! Even a newborn baby could wield an axe better than you could.

You rush up one of the paths along the hills of Berk, multiple Vikings looking at your sorry figure and asking why you were out during a dragon attack. You only ever caused trouble. When you weren't being useless you were being an expensive clumsy step.

“What are you doing here!?” One Viking says before you rush past.

“What are you doin’ out??” Another.

“Get back inside!!”

You're grabbed up swiftly by the collar of your shirt, your stubby feet dangling above the ground. A dragon's fiery breath drawing a line in the road, barely were you saved from its wrath.

“Y/n?! What are they doing out again-?!” He looked at you, baffled. “What are you doing out?! Get inside!”

That's Stoick the Vast. Chief of the tribe. They say that when he was a baby, he popped a dragon's head clean off of its shoulders. 

You watch as the large burly man grabs a cart along the road, swinging it and throwing it violently at a deadly Nadder in the sky. The dragon struggled and went down as it burst into splinters.

 Do I believe it? Yes, I do.

While the others rush to the scene to take the dragons on, you cower and rush into the smithing shop nestled near the middle of the town road. The only place not burnt down by now.

Immediately putting on an apron and stumbling about.

“Oh, nice of you to join the party, I thought you'd been carried off!”

You turned briefly to another large man, his appendages having some work done, what with missing both an arm and a leg. Always wondered what kept him alive… it clearly wasn't his limbs.

“What, who me? Nah, come on! I'm waaaay too muscular for their taste. They wouldn't know what to do with all…” Your lack of any muscle is incredibly. Being born into the generation you were, how you managed to stay the same length and width of a stick was quite the sight. “...this.”

You moved a rather large weapon and opened the smithing window, a Viking immediately grabbing a weapon from the desk before you could take them back to the smelter.

He hums. “Well, they need toothpicks, don't they?” 

You roll your eyes a tad and sigh.

The meat-head with attitude and interchangeable hands is Gobber. I've been his apprentice ever since I was little. Well... littler.

You look out the smithing window as Stoick tackles another dragon. A dragon landing on another roof and blowing fire into the scorching wood. It crumbling beneath its talons.

See? Old village, lots and lots of new houses.

“FIRE!!” A Viking shouted, followed by four teen rushing out with buckets of water.

Oh, and that's Gaz, Graves, Soap, and... Ghost. Oh, their job is so much cooler.

You watch the group walk from a fiery explosion as Vikings pass by, led by the snappiest rackater of them all. 

Ghost may have been a hard head who bullied your entire existence in a subtle way that made you feel like you were the problem, but that didn't matter. 

Graves was a real hard ass. Always following said lead teen around like he was gonna get a chance for even a morcel. Considering no respecting person in the village would take that…

There was Soap. They say he had a twin, but, had. Considering no one knows what happened or where said twin ended up. Easiest to say Odin didn't want them to live the hardships.

Or they got eaten by a dragon. 

Gaz, well, no one really knew what his problem was. He was a tad odd, but damn smart, and somehow more popular than you, skellington.

You lean out the smithing window, a hooked hand pulling you back in. “Oh come on! Please, let me out! I need to make my mark!”

“Oh you've made marks all right, in all the wrong places!”

“Please, two minutes. I'll kill a dragon. My life will get infinitely better. I might even get noticed!”

“You can't lift a hammer, you can't swing an axe, you can't even throw one of these!” Gobber lifts a bola to express his exasperation, only for it to be pulled from his hook and thrown at a dragon, taking it down.

“Okay, fine, but this will throw it for me!” You smiled excitedly rushing back into the shop, showing off your cool canon mechanism.

“See, now this right here is what I'm talking about!” Gobber sighed, exasperated. Watching you fiddle with your contraption.

“Mild calibration issue-” You fiddled with some levers and the string on the draw.

“Don't you- no- Y/n. If you ever want to get out there to fight dragons, you need to stop all... this.” He gestured vaguely to you, looking you up and down.

“But you just pointed to all of me?”

“Yes, exactly! Stop being you.” Gobber smiled, thinking you were getting it. Poking you in the chest.

“Oooh…”

“Ooooh, yes.”

“You sir, are playing a dangerous game. Keeping this much, raw... Viking-ness... contained? THERE WILL BE CONSEQUENCES.” You pointed your finger up, brow turning down angrily.

Gobber looked bored at you. “I'll take my chances. Sword. Sharpen. Now.” He dumped the sword into your frail hands, leaving you to your devices.

One day, I'll get out there. Because, killing a dragon, is everything around here.

You can look out the smithing window while you put the sword on the grindstone, sparks flying from the blade as you contemplate your options of execution.

A Nadder head is sure to get you at least noticed. Gronckles are tough. Taking down one of those would definitely get you the spot light. A Zippleback? Exotic. Two heads, twice the status.

And then, there's the Monstrous Nightmare. Only the best Vikings go after those. They have this nasty habit of setting themselves on fire.

You watched from the window as one crawled up the wall of the tower and onto a catapult, lighting itself up and scaring off the Viking manning the device.

Stoick slamming his hammer into its face to ward it off from the top of the tower.

But the ultimate prize is the dragon no one has ever seen. We call it the-

There's a high pitched whistle across the sky. Vikings retreating desperately as they call out.

“NIGHT FURY! GET DOWN!” The Vikings rush to get down. From nowhere a catapult is torn apart with a plasma blast.

This thing never steals food, never shows itself, and... never misses. No one has ever killed a Night Fury. That's why you're going to be the first.

“Man the fort, Y/n. They need me out there!” He attaches an ax piece to his hand, rushing to the door.

“Stay. Put. There. You know what I mean.” Gobber runs off, leaving you in the shop. You tore off your apron and ran back to your catapult set up. Steering it out the doors and running up the hill along the catapults. 

Vikings yelling at you to get back and go inside. You can't be trusted outside when the island is in chaos. They can't trust you not to make chaos.

“Y/n!” One yelled.

“I know! I'll be right back!” You led your catapult on wheels up the old path, Stoick pinning down a group of Nadders. 

The others fought while you reached the edge of the cliff. Looking out at the darkness, a surprisingly peaceful corner of the island away from the chaos feet away.

You opened the catapult and set it up, the small aiming needle and the leader strap that held in the bola aiming around. You looked at the night sky, out at all the stars.

“Come on… Give me something to shoot at, give me something to shoot at.”

You watched the sky. Hearing the low cry of the dragon. Seeing the dark figure blacking out the stars, the only possible way you could see the creature that blended so easily into the night.

Attempting to track the shadow with the scope of your catapult.

You heard the dragon make its move, dive bombing from the sky and shooting a plasma blast into a nearby fire, knocking the tower down. As it cleared the explosion you clenched your eyes shut and pulled the trigger.

The catapult blasted you back on your butt, hearing the cry as the creature went down. 

You hit it. For once in your miniscule life you hit it!! A dragon!! A night fury!!

“I hit it!! Yes! Did anybody see that??” You turned around, a monstrous nightmare creeping up on you, its narrowed face making it look like a devilish thing.

“Except… for you.” 

It growled at you and you screamed, attracting the attention of Stoick. He sighed in exasperation, pulling away from the tied down Nadder heads. “DO NOT let them escape!” He commanded some others as he rushed to your aid.

You ran and stumbled from the dragon that stalked after you, firing at you. Hiding behind a pillar as your heart pounded in your chest.

You just killed a dragon and now you're dead. You're a goner. Oh you should have stayed inside.

It blasted a fiery blaze against the pillar, and you briefly squeezed your eyes shut. Slowly forcing one open and inching around the corner. 

The dragon growled as its head turned, coming around from behind you. Before it could fire, Stoick slammed his fist into its face, getting the attention onto him.

It belched out the last of its flame, looking weakly down at the splatter and up at Stoick.

“You're all out of juice.” He clenched his fists and punched the monstrous nightmare, bullying it until it retreated desperately back into the night.

You tensed up, feeling the burning hot metal of the pillar crunch and crumble. The wooden pole leaning and the flaming bowl of coals on top spilled as it toppled. Falling to the side and crashing into a fire gust of ashes into a small pool of water.

Vikings gathered around you as you timidly looked up at Stoick.

Oh, and there's one other thing you should know…

A woman cried and gasped, the coals flickering and landing across the ground and the dirt. Your shoulders tensing and rising with each noise. Slowly turning to Stoick who did not look happy.

“Sorry… dad..”

You and the others all watched as the dragons flew by, the sound of the sheep they'd captured from the island sounding off as they left. 

Slowly pursing your lips you turned to your father. “Ok but I hit a night fury-”

Stoick grabbed you by the back of your collar, dragging you off effortlessly.

“Ah! It's not like the last few times, dad! I really actually hit it.”

“You guys weren't around. I was alone when I hit it. I had a clear shot.” 

Gobber watched regretfully as you were dragged. “It fell just off Ravens point I say let's get a search party out there-”

“Stop!” Stoick interrupted you, making you purse your lips again silently as he now stood you in front of him. “Just stop.”

“Every time you get out, trouble follows. Can't you see I have bigger problems?? Winter is almost here, and I have an entire village to feed.”

An awkward pause before you speak. “Well between you and me the village could use a little less of that? No?”

A Viking behind you silently disagrees as he rubs his round stomach. No, no, the village can stay well fed. They like it.

“This is not a joke! Y/n!” Stoick sighs. “Why can't you just follow the simplest of orders??”

You bounce on your feet. “I-I can't stop myself. I see a dragon and I have to just kill it.” You twist your hands, looking up at him. 

Yeah, right. Like you could ever kill a dragon. 

“It's who I am, dad.” You say, sighing. You're full of crap.

Stoick rubs his face. “Ey… you are many things y/n, but a dragon killer? Is not one of them… get back to the house.”

He looks up at Gobber, motioning him. “Make sure they get there.”

Gobber comes over and gently hits your head. 

“I have their mess to clean up…” Stoick walks past as Gobber leads you sulking home.

To make things worse you passed the other teens, Soap snickering with Gaz. “Quite the performance.” Gaz commented.

“Wow, I've never seen someone mess up that badly.” Graves leaned in your face. “That helped.”

You sulked by, noticing Ghost admiring his axe in the background, leaned up against the stone ledge.

“Thank you, thank you. I was trying.”

As you pass Gober grips Graves helmet and shoves him back, making him choke. “Ow-!”

You two walk back to the house, your annoyance stewing. “I really did hit one.”

“Sure you did.”

“He never listens.”

“It runs in the family.” Gobber replied.

“And when he does it's always with this disappointed scowl, like someone skimped on the meat in his sandwich.”

You turn just before the door, making a mock impression of your father, raising your eyebrows in anger. “Excuse me, barmaid! I'm afraid you brought me the wrong offspring.” 

You raise your arms in annoyance, doing wild gestures. “I ordered an extra large boy with beefy arms. Extra guts and glory on the side. This here, this is a talking fishbone!”

“Now, you're thinking about this all wrong. It's not so much what you look like, it's what's inside that he can't stand.” Gobber offers you a smile, to which your expression drops.

You sigh flatly. “Thank you for summing that up.”

“Look, I'm trying to tell you to stop trying to be what you're not.” Gobber says as you open the door to the house.

“I just.. wanna be one of you guys..” You say, closing the door behind you. 

Gobber sighs sadly, starting to leave, giving you space.

All the space you needed to sneak out of the back of the house. Immediately rushing down the back of the hill the house was set on…

“Either we finish them, or they'll finish us! It's the only way we'll be rid of them! If we find the nest and destroy it, the dragons will leave. They'll find another home! One more search. Before the ice sets in.” 

Stoick looks around the Meade hall, slamming his knife into a map on the table, seeing all the hesitation. 

“Those ships never come back!” One Viking calls out from the end of the long table.

“We're Vikings, it's an occupational hazard. Now who's coming with me?”

“Today's not good for me. I've gotta do my axe returns.” One mumbles.

Stoick leans back from the table. “Alright. Those who stay behind can look after y/n.”

Immediately every hand at the table went up. And Stoick nodded. “That’s more like it.”

Gobber sat at the table, finishing off a tankard of drink. “Alright, I'll pack my undies.”

Stoick came over to him, sitting next to him at the table. “No, I need you to stay here and train some new recruits.”

Gobber mulls over his cup, before replying sarcastically. “Oh, perfect. And while I'm busy, Y/n can cover the stall. Molten steel, razor sharp blades, lots of time to themself... what could possibly go wrong?”

Stoick sighed, slouching slightly. “What am I going to do with them, Gobber?”

“Put them in training like the others.”

“No, I'm serious.”

“So am I.” 

They look at each other, Stoick leaning his arm on the table. “They'd be killed before you let the first dragon out of its cage!”

“You don't know that.” Gobber goes back to his drink.

“I do, actually.”

“No, you don't.” Gobber points a finger at him.

“Listen, you know what their like.” He got up from the table. “From the time they could crawl, they've been… different.”

He walked around the table by the fire against the wall.

“They don't listen,” Gobber chokes on his drink as he listens. “They have the attention span of a sparrow.” Stoick goes on.

Gobber looks into his drink for his missing tooth which he previously choked on.

Stoick is still on. “I take them fishing and they go hunting for- for trolls!”

“Trolls are real!” Gobber points his drink arm at Stoick. “They steal your socks. But only the left ones… what's with that??”

Stoick sighs. “When I was a boy.”

“Oh here we go.” 

“My father told me to bang my head against a rock and I did it. I thought it was crazy, but I didn't question him.” 

Stoick turns. “You know what happened??”

“You got a headache.”

“That rock split in two. It taught me what a Viking could do, Gobber. He could- He could crush mountains, level forests, tame seas!” He gestures loud. “Even as a boy, I knew what I was, what I had to become.” 

Stoick goes and sits at the table again, slouching. “Y/n is not that kid.”

“You can't stop them, Stoick. You can only prepare them. Look, I know it seems hopeless.” Gobber gestures his drink arm.

“But the truth is you won't always be around to protect them. Their going to get out there again. Their probably out there now.”

And he was right. Out the forest at Ravens point, he exasperatedly crossed another X in your book. You'd been searching everywhere for this damn dragon, eventually giving up.

“Oh the gods hate me…” you snapped the book shut. “Some people lose their knife or their mug, not me.”

You scuff your feet. “I manage to lose an entire dragon.” You walk down the path, angrily slapping a tree branch that comes right back at you.

Turning your attention to the part of the part that is disturbed. A large dirt train plowed through the land. 

You frown, following it up to a small hill. As you climb it, your eyes land sight of the dragon. You gasp, your heart racing as you immediately duck down. 

Your eyes go wide as you hide behind the mound, panting. What do you do?? What do you do??

You sat up, immediately searching for your knife. Grabbing it out shakily and holding it like your life depended on it.

You slid down the hill, hiding behind a large rock before poking out. Seeing the dragon tied up and caught in the net you'd flung it into. 

You disastrous human. How could you? How could you do this?

You smiled though, shocked, in pure shock. “Oh wow, this- this fixes everything!” You walked over, putting your foot on its shoulder. “I have brought down this mighty beast-”

The dragon bellows in pain, shrugging its shoulder to push you off, making you jump and scramble back.

You shake and pant as you hold your knife out in front of you, walking closer. You can see the dragon's blue green eyes on you, staring at you.

“I'm going to kill you, dragon. I'm gonna cut out your heart and take it to my father. I'm a Viking. I am a VIKING!” You hold the knife down, pointed at the beast.

The night fury breathes heavily, clearly scared as it stares at you with a sharp gaze, awaiting its horrific fate.

You raise the knife above your head, steeling yourself for the moment, peeling an eye open to look down at the dragon. It still stared at you, helpless, and scared.

You readjust the knife, taking a deep breath. The dragon moans, laying its head down and closing its eyes. Scared, but knowing it's fate. 

And that breaks you. It's the last noise of distress going unheeded to any cruel human that would have found him. 

You attempted to shoo the thought and claim its life, but instead.. you couldn't. You groaned, slumping the knife handle to the top of your head. 

You slumped, rubbing the side of your face and looking at the knife, then the dragon. No, no you couldn't do this. 

“I did this…” You slowly back up, returning to leave, but looking back at those ropes. 

You went back, and you started to cut. The dragon’s eyes shot open in an instant, looking over as you sawed the blade through the ropes and pulled it free. 

As soon as the last rope that freed its legs was off, it jumped at you, growling in your face as it pushed you to the ground.

Your head hit the edge of the rock as its claw kept your chest pinned. You gasped for air, looking up at the dragon, into its sharp eyes. 

The dragon growled down at you as you leaned your face away, your heart pounding. The dragon leaned his arm off your chest, slamming you down and roaring in your face. 

It turned and dashed, flying off, taking off lopsided and flying into a tree. It wailed when it hit the ground and then tried to take off again, wailing in pain as it flew into the fog.

You slowly reached for your knife, clutching your heart as your eyes remained blown wide. 

You tried to stand, your knees shaking like a deer and weak. You felt wheezy and like you would vomit at any moment. Not making it far before hitting the ground with a thud and falling unconscious.

It was late by the time you came home, walking into the house to see your father, Stoick stoking the fire, waiting for you.

You slowly closed the door, seeing him and attempting to rush by and head upstairs. Going full hands and knees rushed, but it was futile. 

“Y/n.”

“Dad, uh…” You swallowed awkwardly, your thoughts immediately rushing back to earlier that day and the shit you'd probably get into if he knew you let a night fury free…

“I uh, have to talk to you, dad…”

Stoick stood, coming over. “I have to talk to you too, y/n.”

Both of you took deep breaths.

“I've decided I don't want-”

“I've decided it's time you learn-”

“To fight dragons. What??”

Stoick clears his throat. “You go first.”

“No, no you go first.” You started to sweat a little, gripping the stairs, feeling your collar getting tight.

“All right.” Stoick sighs, massaging his knuckles. “You get your wish. Dragon training. You start in the morning.”

“Oh, man, I should've gone first!” You panicked a lot, shifting from foot to foot awkwardly, looking away.

“Uh, 'cause I was thinking, you know, we have a surplus of dragon-fighting Vikings, but do we have enough… bread-making Vikings, or small home repair Vikings-?”

Stoick leaned over, picking up an axe. “You'll need this.” He hands it to you, making you huff with the weight on your incredibly toothpick durability, q-tip quality arms.

“Gah-” you panicked, looking at him worriedly. “Dad, I don't want to kill dragons.” You protested. 

Stoick laughed. “Of course you do.”

“Rephrase… Dad, I can't kill dragons.” you held the axe, your legs weak and your stomach churning sickeningly with the thought of being ignored in this.

“But you will kill dragons.”

Your worry grows, gripping the axe. “No, I'm very extra sure that I won't.”

“It's time Y/n.”

“Can you not hear me!?” You ask desperately and exasperated.

“This is serious, y/n.”

He gestured. “When you carry this axe, you carry all of us with you.” Stoick picks the axe up from your arms and adjusts it. 

“Which means you walk like us.” He bunches your shoulders together and fixes your slouch. “You talk like us. You think like us. No more of…. This.” He gestured vaguely to you. 

“You just gestured to all of me.” You pouted.

“Deal??” Stoick asked, making your heart sink at once again being completely ignored.

“This conversation is feeling very one-sided.”

“Deal!?” Stoick repeats.

“Deal…”

“Good.” He nods to you, not even touching you. He picked up his sack for the voyage and his Viking hat. 

“Train hard. I'll be back. Probably.”

“And I'll be here… maybe.”

“Welcome to dragon training.” Gobber says as you all enter the ring. A large stone pit tug into the groups full of armory and cages with chain domed across the top.

Ghost leads the group of teens into the ring, holding his axe firmly in his hand. He looks around, parts of his slightly long blonde hair hanging in front of his sharp brown eyes.

Such a warm color, such a cold stare. “No turning back.” He said to mostly himself, the others checking out the place.

Oh and there's you in the back. Toothpick. 

“I hope I get some serious burns.” Graves says.

“Yeah, I'm hoping for some maulings. Like on my shoulder or my lower back.” Soap commented with a grin.

Ghost spoke up, tilting his head. “Yeah, it's only fun if you get a scar out of it.” He already had a few. From dragon fights? No. But scars nonetheless. He wanted a scar from the dragon's he killed. 

Even if he would have to force the mark. 

You mumbled sarcastically from the background. “Oh yeah… pain, great.. love it..”

They all look back, simultaneously looking at you with disgust, while Ghost just scrunched his nose. “Oh great, who let you in??” Graves complains.

“Let's get started! The recruit who does best will win the honor of killing his first dragon in front of the entire village.” Gobber said, motioning you all into the middle of the rock pit. Closer to your doom.

“Well, Y/n already killed a Night Fury, so, does that disqualify him or…?” Graves smirked at you antagonistically.

“Can I transfer to the class with the cool Vikings?” Soap added on to the taunt as they walked away without you.

Gobber got closer to you, smiling softly. “Don't worry. You're small and you're weak. That'll make you less of a target! They'll see you as sick or insane and go after the more Viking-like teens instead.”

With that Gobber explained the essence of dragon training. Behind each of the doors is a dragon. The training sessions will focus on an aspect of fighting. The person last standing against the dragon is to be the winner of the round.

Whoever wins in the end?? You get a brag tag for a good chunk of years.

Gobber went on. “Behind these doors are just a few of the many species you will learn to fight! The Deadly Nadder!” 

“Speed: eight; Armor: sixteen.” Gaz finally spoke up.

“The Hideous Zippleback!”

“Plus eleven stealth times two.”

“The Monstrous Nightmare!”

“Firepower: fifteen.”

“The Terrible Terror!” 

“Attack: eight; Venom: twelve!”

“CAN YOU STOP THAT?! And... the Gronckle!” Gobber snapped, getting to the last door. He hooked his interchangeable arm to the latch. 

“Woah, hang on- aren't you going to teach us first??” Graves asked in disbelief.

Gobber shrugged. “I believe in learning on the job.”

He pulled the door open and released the Gronckle. The others tensed up and watched the thing as it flew toward them, eyeing them all like snacks.

It swallowed some of the rocks set out and blasted it's fiery molten liquid at you four.

“Today is about survival. If you get blasted... you're dead! Quick! What's the first thing you're going to need?”

“A doctor!?” You cried worriedly.

“Plus five speed!?” Gaz countered.

Ghost eyed the dragon, then around the ring. “A shield!” 

“Shields! Go!” Gobber instructed, Ghost being the first to turn and run for one. 

“Your most important piece of equipment is your shield! If you must make a choice between a sword or a shield, take the shield!” 

You rushed to grab one, picking it up and heaving up the heavy thing. You attempted to find the arm strap, searching rapidly before Gobber came over. 

Exasperation filled as he lifted it up and shoved it gently into your chest.

Graves grabbed a shield with skulls on it, Soap frowning. “Hey!” The only shield left being one with flowers.

“Take that one, that one has flowers.” Graves teased, pouting his lip at Soap. 

“But- ah!” Soap was thrown to the ground when the Gronckle’s tail hit him in the side.

“Soap, you're down.” Gobber called.

“What…??”

“Shields are good for another thing. Making lots of noise. Throw the dragon's aim off!”

You, Ghost, Graves, and Gaz all start banging your shields, the Gronckle's eyes crossing and trying to shake the disorientation off.

“All dragons have a limited number of shots. How many does a Gronckle have?” Gobber asks.

You all circle around the dragon, it's eyes trying to focus on anything. You rush back to a corner, hiding back behind one of the armor walls, holding your shield in the crack. 

Pussy.

“Uh, five??” Graves replies while he rushes away.

“No, six!” Gaz counters. 

“That's correct. Six. One for each of you.”

The Gronckle gets its surroundings back and blasts molten at Gaz’s shield, making him cry with surprise.

“Gaz, you're out!”

Gaz gulps and yells as he runs for safely of the out zone. 

Gobber notices you. “Y/n! Get in there!!”

You attempt to move away from your wall only to get a blast thrown at you. Fearing you scuffling back away, Gobber ones over and pushes you into the ring again.

Ghost faced the Gronckle as it came around again, ready to take it down, distributing his weight well. 

Graves came right up behind him, rolling his shoulders. “So, anyway I'm moving into my parents' basement. You should come by sometime to work out.”

Ghost rolls his eyes and starts to move, Graves looking surprised. “You look like you work out!”

The Gronckle fires it's shot for Ghost at Graves, hitting his shield. “Graves! You're done!”

Ghost rolled over next to you, both of you the only two left. You looked nervously over at him. He's so cool. Just a tad taller than you. Lanky but you can see he has muscle definition on his arms. 

He's just.. ah! A real Viking. That's what your dad wants you to be.

“I uh.. guess it's just you and me now huh?” You ask him nervously.

He glowers before lifting his head. “Nope, just you.” He dashes out of the way, the Gronckle fires. 

“Gah!!” You raise your shield to take the blow meant for Ghost. The shield knocks from your hand, barely missing you. 

Without shield and one shot left you run back for your shield, the Gronckle hot on your track. The shield rolls away from you across the ground, looking back and you panic seeing the dragon right there.

“One shot left! Y/n!” Gobber calls.

It manages to corner you to the wall. Face right against your chest. Your heart pounds, your limbs feel cold and rigid, and on fire all at once. 

It opens its mouth and down its throat the molten glow of its last shot, before a hook pulls it away. It blasts it's shot into the wall and you cover your head, curling up.

Gobber drags the dragon back away.

“And that's six! Go back to bed, ya overgrown sausage!” He shoves it back into the pen and closes the door.

“You'll get another chance, don't you worry.” He says to you as he walks back over, bending down. “Remember: a dragon will always- always- go for the kill.”

He grabs your arm and picks you up. You looked at the wall where the charred remains of the burn flickered down the rock incline…

Leading you back to the site of the crash, your curiosities got to you as you picked up one of the rocks on the bola. Where you'd freed the night fury from.

“So… why didn't you??” 

Why hadn't the dragon gone for the kill. You would have stabbed it, you had a weapon for crying out loud! It had every opportunity… and it didn't.

You place the bola down, standing and hopping over a log. Walking the path down to a split between two rock digs. You slipped through the small passage, which opened up. 

The tall rock face harbors trees and a small lake. It was nice… peaceful. The tall walls of rock keep it hidden and closed.

“This was stupid.” You say, moments before looking over and seeing a couple of black scales resting down the dirt incline down into the small crop.

The dragon.

You kneel down and pick one up, looking it over before hearing a roar. In an instant you jump back in fear as the Night Fury dives up over the small passage, climbing at the walls.

It's claws dig in, scrambling frantically and attempting to flap its wings and get over the edge of the rock.

You watched as it wailed and gave up, falling back and gliding awkwardly over the pond and landing on its side across on the other side.

Pant, scared but fascinated. Watched the dragon moan in sadness and pain. You hop down from the ledge, scrambling onto another rock stool and watch the night fury as it moves about.

It tries several more times to fly. Flapping its wings and hopping up but never managing to pull itself over the ledge. Crying angrily as it lands.

Your eyes widen, pulling out your sketchbook. No Night Fury had ever been recorded, you had to do this. Wow wow.

You quickly sketched up a drawing of the dragon, watching it snarl angrily. 

“Why don't you just.. fly away??” 

The dragon snarls and shoots a plasma blast at the ground.

Looking at the dragon you notice it only has one tail fin, while your drawing has two. You rub away the charcoal with your sleeve, your curiosities only growing.

The dragon tries to fly, swerving along the rock and slamming down onto the ground. It whines in pain, it's nose near the water's edge. Noticing some fish. It perks up in hope, diving its head into the water, but the fish are fast enough to escape its attempts.

It whines, still hungry.

In a moment of weakness, you feel bad for the creature. Why was this happening, why was it stuck here?? Your pencil rolled from between your fingers. 

Your eyes widened but before you could grab it it fell down the steep rock. Bouncing on the rocks and attracting the Night Fury’s attention.

You froze, and it froze. Both of you are looking at each other. It glares at you, growling low. But it looks.. curious in a way.

When you finally make your way to the Meade hall it's late. You'd spent all your time watching the night fury and becoming so fascinated that you didn't care to come back. Until now.

Walking in and seeing the other teens gathered around Gobber. Talking over strategies and what happened in the ring.

“Now, how did Ghost go wrong today??”

“I mistimed my somersault dive. It was sloppy. It threw off my reverse tumble.” Ghost said with some sarcasm as he poked at his food.

“Yeah, we noticed.” Soap mumbles.

“No no, you were great. That was so… “Ghost.”” Graves said, once again attempting to land an unflattering attempt.

“He's right, you have to be tough on yourselves.” Gobber notices you walk in soaked, coming to the table. “Where did Y/n go wrong?”

“Uh, they showed up??” Soap said.

“Their didn't get eaten??” Graves said.

“Their never where they should be.” Ghost said, watching you with a nasty look as you scoot yourself over to the next table, knowing you weren't welcome around them.

Gobber walked over to you. “Thank you, Ghost.” He smacks Soap and Graves in the head. “You need to live and breathe this stuff. The dragon manual.” He holds up a book. 

Leather bound with a dragon symbol burned into the front, tied with string to keep old pages together.

He cleared a part of the table and put the book down. “Everything we know about every dragon we know of.”

Thunder crackled overhead, Gobber sighed, knowing lightning to come. “No attacks tonight. Study up for tomorrow.” 

“Wait, you mean, read??” Graves frowned, crossing his arms.

“Well maybe it would do you some good.” Gaz spoke up.

“Shut your mouth, I don't need to read nothing! Why read words when you can just kill the stuff the words tell you about??”

“Oh! I've read it like, seven times. There's this water dragon that sprays boiling water at your face. And- And there's this other one that buries itself for like a week-”

“Yeah, that sounds great. So there's a chance I was going to read it…” Soap starts.

“But not now.” Graves says, causing Soap to glare at him a little.

Even if they all were irritable brats at the age of sixteen, they all had some kind of friendship with each other. Some kind… more than they had with you. Because you're a loser. 

Your eyes drift back over to Ghost who hadn't said a word about the book while the others bicker. Dragging his knuckles along the side of his tankard. 

You could see the scars that started just before his wrist guards hid them away. Occasional Knicks and scratches along his arms and biceps. 

Must have been from falls or accidents because he'd not properly fought a dragon or a hunter…

The others move from the table to go back home. You get up, going to the book by where Ghost sat. “So I guess we’ll… share??”

“Read it.” He pushed the book, getting up and walking off.

“Oh, uh, all mine, then. Wow. So, ok, I'll see you…” You looked up as the door shut. They were already gone…

The hall was dark with only you in it. You sat down at the table with a candle and opened the book.

Dragon classifications. Strike Class, Fear Class, Mystery Class.

You started to read. Reading through the book, the endings of each of the entries being extremely deadly: kill on sight.

Each page. Extremely deadly: kill on sight.

You continued to flip the pages. “Burns its victims, buries its victims, chokes its victims, turns its victims inside-out.”

“Extremely dangerous, extremely dangerous, kill on sight, kill on sight, kill on sight…” 

Through every page of every class. Until you got to the end.

You flipped the last page. At the top it said Night Fury. The page being otherwise almost completely empty.

“Night Fury: Speed, unknown. Size, unknown. The unholy offspring of lightning and death itself. Never engage this dragon.” 

You hesitated on the last part. “Your only chance: Hide and pray it does not find you.”

You pulled out your sketchbook, dropping the sketch of the Night Fury on the page. You had found a Night Fury. It had let you close. It .. hadn't killed you.

You stood the next day in the training ring, in the middle of a training session. Holding your shield and axe, you shifted from one foot to the other. Surrounded by a maze of tall builds all put together for the Deadly Nadder to find and kill you.

“You know, I just happened to notice the book had nothing on Night Furies. Is there another book? Or a sequel? Maybe a little Night Fury pamphlet?”

The Deadly Nadder jumps atop one of the lofts, firing at you, taking off the head of your axe. “Gah!”

“Focus y/n! You're not even trying!” Gobber scolds. 

“Today is all about ATTACK! Nadders are quick and light on their feet! Your job is to be quicker and lighter!” Gobber continues.

Gaz gasped, running away as the Nadder searches him out. Throwing spikes from its tail at him, sinking into the wall above his head and his shield.  “Ah!! I'm really starting to question your teaching methods!!”

Gobber, undeterred, continues. “Look for it's Blindspot. Every dragon has one. Find it, hide in it, and strike.”

You rush by as Soap turns a corner, coming face to snout with the Nadder. He gasps, holding in a breath as it moves its head, attempting to stay in the Blindspot. 

“Steamin’ hell… this thing stinks.” He wheezes. “Do you ever bathe??” He gags, trying to cover his mouth.

The Nadder turns its head, growling and spitting fire at him. “Ah!”

“Blind spot? Yes. Deaf spot? Not so much.” Gobber grins, leaning his face against his palm as he watched from above the chain net. 

Seeing Ghost running through the intricate maze, you hanging on his tail like a mouse finding safety with the cat.

You pause, looking up at Gobber. “Hey, so how would one sneak up on a Night Fury?”

“No one's ever seen one and loved to tell the tale.” He snaps his fingers. “Now get in there!!”

“Y/n.” Ghost whispers your name. You turn to see Ghost kneeled down by one of the platforms, Graves behind him, nodding to you to be quiet. You skip over, hiding against the wall.

Ghost pokes his head out, seeing the Nadder coming around. He hides again, taking a deep breath and preparing himself before rolling forward on his shield. 

He pushes off, hiding behind the next wall, Graves following and doing the same. When you attempt it, the shield does not follow your small body through the roll, trapping you against the ground.

The Nadder sees you, and runs. “Gah!” You scramble up and run. The Nadder roars and flies up on top of the walls, jumping down in front of Ghost. 

He readied himself but Graves pushed him aside. “Watch out babe, I'll take care of this.”

“Hey!” Ghost growls at him, seething at him as he throws his weapon, completely missing.

The Nadder growls, Ghost glaring at him. “The sun was in my eyes, Ghost.” The Nadder roars, Ghost making a run for it away from that meat head. 

“What do you want me to do?? Block out the sun? I could do that, but I don't have time!” He dodges the attack, running after Ghost as the Nadder makes chase.

Graves continues rambling, looking back and making a swift turn down another aisle. Ghost looks back, gasping and crying as the Nadder is seconds away from him. He dashes around the corner and turns, slamming into the wall.

The Nadder follows, roaring at him as Ghost scrambles and runs, the walls starting to knock over from the collision.

You were still rambling to Gobber like an idiot. “Like so they take the daytime off?? Like a cat. Has anyone ever seen one, napping??”

Gobber looks up from his bored expression as Graves run by. 

“Y/n!” 

The walls of the maze collapse, the Nadder snapping at Ghost’s heels as he jumps up across one of the falling walls. He jumps to another wall, and you're right in his landing path.

“Y/n!!” He yells, and jumps. You scramble back, falling on the ground as he lands with a thud on top of you.

“Ooh,” Soap teases. 

Ghost glares at you, shoving your face away and attempting to stand, his axe lodged in your shield. 

“Hey, why- let me… why don't you…?” He shoves your chest down, standing up, his knee between your legs causing you to gasp in pain. 

He does not care. Grabbing his axe angrily trying to pry it away. The Nadder turns back, readying its shot for you and Ghost.

Ghost sees it and grows more panicked, grabbing his axe, his foot landing on your cheek. “Ow! Ow! Ow!!”

He attempts to pull his axe away as the Nadder comes closer.

He finally pries it from your arm and swings his axe at the Nadder’s face, your shield splintering. 

The Nadder cries in pain and turns, walking off. Ghost pants, looking off in panic as he grips his axe.

“Well done, Ghost.” Gobber commends.

Ghost doesn't respond, the interaction having a grip on his core. Before his fear replaced with anger and he turned to you, curled up in the fetal position.

“Is this some kind of a joke to you!? Our parents' war is about to become ours!” He points his axe at you. “Figure out which side you're on.” 

Back to trying again with the Night Fury. You head down to the cove, bringing a new shield. Propping it between two rocks and tossing a fish into the open. You slide under it, crawling on your hands and knees.

Once on the other side you attempt to pry the shield out but it's stuck. You sigh, heading over to the fish and picking it up by under the fin. 

You look around, slowly walking into the open. Feeling slightly panicky, but you've had decent luck with this dragon so far. What with it not eating you the first time. 

Perhaps it was wise enough to know you weren't worth it. You'd be more of a chew toy than a hefty meal.

You walk along the pond, looking around for the night fury, aware it had eyes on you minutes earlier. It peers out from a rock as it watches you pass. It's eyes focus on you, tail swishing.

Finally it comes down from the rock, and you see it from your peripheral. You gasp, gripping the fish tight as the dragon comes down and around, sniffing the snack in your hand, growling at you.

You hold the fish out. Would it take it?? It cranes its body sideways like a cat, tilting its head and sniffing the treat. 

It's pupils softening before growling and jumping back. Your hand retreats with the fish, gasping softly. 

You pull your sweater open, your knife tucked into your clothes. When you reach for it, the dragon snarls. 

You gasp, feeling your heartbeat picking up again, slowly removing the knife and dropping it.

The dragon's ears go down, growling away, and you kick the knife away into the pond.

Afterwhich, the dragon relaxes, pupils softening again. It sits, ear flicking. It continues to hold its body arched like a cat as it comes over when you extend the fish again.

“Ah, Toothless.” You say, seeing his gummy mouth and lack of teeth. “I could have sworn you had-” His teeth suddenly snap out and he snatches the fish from your hands. 

Your eyes widen as he scarfs down the snack. “-Teeth…”

He enjoys his snack before looking back at you, lowering his head and coming over.

“Ah, ah.. uh, I don't have any more.” You stammer, backing up and tripping over your heel back against a rock.

Toothless gurgled, looking at you before starting to regurgitate his food. You tense up, cringing a little when he spits up part of the fish in your lap.

“Ugh…”

He sits back, looking at you expectantly. His eyes move from the fish, then to you when you do nothing.

You sigh, hesitantly taking a bite of the food, retching it up, putting a hand over your mouth and forcing yourself to swallow it.

Toothless perks up, you shudder and look up at him, attempting to smile after that…. Delicious cuisine.

You smile awkwardly. Toothless frowns, before attempting to smile back. His lip twitching and showing his gummy smile that he gives you. 

Your eyes widen a little. This… was not a kill on sight dragon. This wasn't something you'd slaughter for sport. 

He was smiling at you. Why, from all the dragon's you'd ever been taught about, the most deadly was smiling at you. Sharing his food…

You slowly stand, extending your hand, to which Toothless’ smile drops. He growls, and flies off, crying as he spirals against the wind, only able to drift and hit the ground a ways away. 

He huffs against the dirty, slowly getting up and shaking himself off. He walks over to a small hill, blasting a controlled amount of heat against the ground, charring it into a nice warm bed.

He looks up at a bird in its nest, chirping and flying away. And then… he sees you. How unsightly. No one wants to see that before bed.

He groans and curls up. Folding in his wings and wrapping his tail around his face to keep him well hidden and secured.

You smile, inching a little closer. You boldly reach out to touch his tail, but Toothless is one step ahead. He lifts his tail, huffing at you. 

You quickly stand, wobbling on shaky legs and awkwardly walking away from him. Toothless stares dully, getting up and moving from his spot, somewhere you surely couldn't get him.

Hanging from… a tree. Such an odd dragon.

You let him be. Sitting on a rock a couple feet away. Wasting away the time until the evening rolled around and Toothless slowly came out of his nap.

Moving his tail and looking over at you, drawing in the dirt with a stick.

He gurgled, hopping down and quietly coming over to see what you were doing.

You rested your cheek against your fist, aimlessly drawing a little figure of Toothless in the dirt.

Toothless watches curiously, purring a growl and getting up on his back legs. He waddled away. You look back when you hear the snapping of a tree branch. 

Toothless comes back with his own drawing stick, purring and trailing it around in the dirt.

You watch him in shock and surprise as toothless drags the stick around, smiling and clutching it tight in his mouth. 

He purrs as he swirls and twists around, finally finishing his creation of spirals and mapping trails between you and him.

You finally stand, looking around at what he's created. All the lines and the paths. You walk out toward one of the lines. When your foot steps on it, Toothless growls. 

It shocks you a little, looking over at him and quickly taking your foot off the line. Toothless raises his head, purring at you in response.

You put your foot on the line, and he growls.

Taking it off, Toothless purred.

You did it a couple of times before understanding. It's trust. Toothless is offering trust. You smile softly, stepping over the line, aware of where your feet when as he stepped around and over the lines. 

Finally stopping with your back to Toothless. You sink a little, feeling a warm breath fan across the nape of your neck and down your back.

You turn and look up at him. Toothless’ gaze is soft. You pant softly, reaching your hand up. Toothless pulls his head away slightly, growling a little.

You pull your hand back, looking into his eyes. So you turn away. Closing your eyes and extending your hand again. 

Toothless’ eyes soften. He looks at your palm, leaning his head forward and hesitating, before gently leaning his nose into your palm, closing his eyes.

You exhale softly in surprise, feeling it. Toothless… trusts you. This was trust.

You looked up at Toothless. His eyes narrow again. He pulled away, wriggling his nose and huffing before dashing off.

The incident didn't leave your mind. Even when you went home, you couldn't face anyone after the thought of Toothless. 

Sat atop the watch tower with Gobber and the others, roasting food over the crackling fire while he went on about a tale.

You weren't particularly listening, your gaze focused on your fingers, slowly turning the stick that was jabbed through your fish.

“...And with one twist, he took my hand, and swallowed it whole!” Gobber waved his stick, with a whole chicken on the end of it. 

“And I saw the look on his face: I was delicious. He must have passed the word, because it wasn't a month before another one of them took my leg.”

Gaz frowned in concentration, digging into his food. “Isn't it weird to think that your hand was inside a dragon?” He motioned one of the meat legs toward Ghost, who glared and shifted away.

What was that idiots problem. Ghost was close to biting his arm off.

“Like if your mind was still in control of it, you could have killed the dragon from the inside by... crushing his heart, or something.” Gaz continued, Graves staring at him from across the firepit as it grew silent.

“Right…” Graves muttered. “I swear, I'm so angry right now! I'll avenge your beautiful hand and your beautiful foot. I'll chop off the legs of every dragon I fight. With my face!” 

“Un-unh. It's the wings and the tails you really want. If it can't fly, it can't get away. A downed dragon is a dead dragon.” Gobber said, snapping a leg off his chicken.

Your eyes slowly widen. Toothless. Toothless was down. That's the first thing you'd listened to all night. Pulled from your stupor of pointless thoughts.

Gobber yawned and got up. “Alright. I'm off to bed. You should be, too. Tomorrow we get to the big boys. Slowly but surely making our way up to the Monstrous Nightmare. But who'll win the honor of killing it?”

“It's gonna be me! It's my destiny, see??” Soap rolled up his sleeve, showing his arm.

“Woah, your mom let you get a tattoo??”

“It's not a tattoo, it's a birthmark.”

“I've known you literally since we were babies, and I've never seen that.” Graves replies. 

“Yes, it was. You've just never seen me from the left side until now.”

After hearing what Gobber had said about dragons, your interests turn to the forge. If you're going to get Toothless out of there alive you'd need to help him. 

It wouldn't be on his own…

Ghost watched you, cold gaze following as you walked away from the fire and back down the watch tower. 

You headed to the forge quickly, pulling out your sketchbook and laying it out on the table. Alright, now for something that could help Toothless. Time to get to work.

You worked long into the night. Heating the forge and putting together a device that you knew would help. You worked until your eyes were heavy and the sunrise poked over the edge of the water.

Finally putting out the flames and grabbing what you could, you headed back to the house. Stumbling inside and slumping into your hard bed for just an ounce of sleep.

After a bit of rest and recuperating you headed out a few hours later, ready to help Toothless. Your plan was foolproof. And you brought along a giant basket of fish just for it.

When you got back to the cove, Toothless was waiting for you. “Hey Toothless, I brought you some fish.” You set down the basket and kicked it over with your foot. “We've got some salmon, some nice Icelandic cod…”

Toothless began to sniff through the fish, nudging through to find the good stuff.

“And a whole smoked eel…” You slowly stepped around the pile when toothless growled. He backed up, snarling at the pile. 

You tilted your head and reached in, pulling out the eel. Toothless saw it and expanded his wings in defense, roaring loudly.

“No, no no no! It's ok!” You quickly threw the eel away and placed out your hand to him, your contraption firmly under the other.

He huffed and you wiped your hand on your coat. “Yeah, I don't much like eel either…”

And Toothless went sniffing through the pile of fish again, wolfing down a few without wasting time.

“That's it…” you slowly backed up behind him. “That's it. Just stick with the good stuff.” 

You slowly set up the wing you'd made. “And don't you mind me I'll be back here…  minding my own business…”

You attempted to wrangle Toothless’ tail. Strapping the belts around it as he dug around the basket. Having to sit on his tail and gently spread open the fabric.

When you finally got it hooked on, you sat back. “Hey, doesn't look half bad.”

Toothless’ head perked up as soon as he felt it. A weight on his other tail. He slowly patted his feet into the ground. He could fly… he could fly.

Toothless spread his wings, and took off. “Woah! Whooaa!!” You gasped, seeing the ground suddenly falling away from you. You leaned down, grabbing and holding onto Toothless’ tail tightly.

“No no no!!” You cried as Toothless darted for the coves edge. You watched wide eyed, your adrenaline pumping.

The tail had closed and was flailing in the wind, Toothless starting to lose air. 

Oh fuck oh fuck. You managed to pry one sweaty hand from his tail and pull it open. Toothless caught air and zoomed up into the sky. 

“Oh, my…! It's working!!” You cried as Toothless flew away from the island. He twisted in the air, flying back over the cove and back across the pond. 

“Yes! Yes! I did it!”

Toothless looked back. What the?? Why is this toothpick still hanging on to me!? 

He twisted upside down and flicked his tail, tossing you into the pond and flew away. 

Losing control of himself, he shrieked as he slammed back into the ground across the lake. He looked at the folded in tail angrily. 

You swam above the water furiously, smiling. “Yeah!” You splashed.

The next day at training you were faced with the Hideous Zippleback. Teamed up with Gaz, your goal was to work together to disarm the two headed dragon of its abilities.

One head spreading flammable gas, the other head lights that gas.

“Razor sharp, serrated teeth that inject venom for pre-digestion. Prefers ambush attack, by crushing its victims-”

You frowned at Gaz, gripping your bucket tight. “Would you please stop that!?”

As more gas filled the arena, Graves and Soap turned back to back, looking around for any sign of the dragon.

“If that dragon shows either of his faces, I'm gonna- there!” Graves spotted something through the gas, both him and Soap frantically throwing their buckets of water.

The gas cleared, and there stood hell itself. A soaking. Wet. Ghost.

Oh.

“Oh it's just Ghost, we thought you were a dragon!” Soap shrinks back, smiling like an awkward idiot. 

“Well, clearly,” he snapped coldly. “I am not!”

“Well, your butts big like a dragon.”

Graves hit Soap with his elbow. “Not that there's nothing wrong with a…” Ghost was already marching toward him.

“dragon-esque figure- Ow!” 

Ghost punched him hard in the nose, sending him back. He landed on his butt, before he could get up something snatched him into the gas.

Ghost put his arm in front of Soap. “Wait.” He whispered. 

There was a cry and Graves ran from the smoke. “Ow! Ow!”

Gaz gulped, you and him still back to back. “Chances of survival are dwindling in the single digits now…”

One of the dragon's heads peered out from the smoke and came toward you two. Sharp yellow eyes trained on Gaz.

“Woah, Woah!” He scrambled back as it cornered him, and he threw his bucket of water onto it.

The dragon rippled a growl, gas billowing from beyond its maw. 

“Oh… wrong head.” He smiled awkwardly. It drenched Gaz in gas, Gobber calling out for him, and Gaz made a run for it.

Leaving you the last one with a water bucket. Both of the heads now coming around, the dragon facing you from both sides. 

One of the heads created sparks between its teeth.

“Now y/n!” Gobber said.

You raised your water bucket. “Eh.” You threw it up, the water barely hitting the dragon. “Oh come on…”

You. Are completely… and utterly useless… be thankful you have a dragon now or you would not survive let me tell you. 

The dragon surrounded you. “Y/n!” Gobber yelled, coming over.

But I admit, what you lack in physical strength you make up in your capacity to learn. 

Standing up slowly, the dragon snarled and whipped back. You pulled the eel from your vest, holding it out to them.

“Back! Back!” You snapped, the dragon snarling and backing away from the eel.

“That's right! Back in your cage!” You corralled it back in, slamming the door shut with all the might you had. Which isn't much.

The others watched. Ghost’s signature glare burning into your skin. This was fucking ridiculous.

You clapped your hands together. “So uh… are we done??” They all stared at you wordlessly. “Because I uh.. I got some stuff to do so I'll just… yeah. See you tomorrow!”

You smiled, spending the rest of the day at the forge. Creating some more things you could use in your adventures with Toothless.

Putting together a saddle.

You brought it to Toothless and when he saw it he smiled. Perking up and running away. “Hey!” You laughed, running after him. 

Toothless gurgled and fled around the ground as you chased after him.

After getting the saddle on you learned pretty quickly you'd need some way to hold on. After a failed fly test force Toothless to panic and throw you off his back into the water again. 

No problem, just a little waist retainer was all that was needed. Hooking it onto the saddle and having another go.

The second time was slightly better. You'd tied a rope around your ankle that would help you pull the tail fin open. 

Toothless roared when you tried again, losing control in the air just after getting out of the cove. 

“Hold hold ha!!” You cried as Toothless squirmed and fell into a bed of tall dragon nip. 

You stumbled, looking around the tall grass and going back to see Toothless rolling around comfortably in the grass. Relaxing fully in total relaxation.

Huh. Odd. 

You picked up some of the nip, looking at it curiously. Again, it's best you have a bigger head than bigger biceps. 

When faced with a Gronckle for the next training exercise, you ended things quickly. It crashed into Graves and went for you. You held up the dragon nip you had taken and it immediately slowed down.

The Gronckle crashed to the ground and you rubbed the dragon nip against its nose. 

The villagers gathered around the top of the pit to watch you in awe, the village elder also noticing how much you'd suddenly improved your dragon prowess in recent days. 

After which all the teens were gathered around you. Well, almost all of them.

“Wow, how did you do that??” Soap asked.

“I never would have thought about that-” Gaz piped up.

“I've never even seen a Gronckle do that!” Graves blurted. 

Ghost trained behind, watching as you laughed awkwardly. “Oh I uh, I left my axe in the ring.” You turned, bumping into Ghost as you did. 

He jumped, pushing you lightly and you went around him. “Sorry, sorry.” 

They watched, the others smiling excitement. Ghost glaring down your whole existence.

Spending more time with Toothless, you began to introduce the fondness of scratches and pets. Scratching the patches of scales along his neck and ear fins.

Toothless groaned, leaning up into it, turning his head and closing his eyes. You scratched under his chin and he went limp, falling to the ground with a content exhale. 

The next day, back in training. 

Ghost yelled, throwing his axe at the deadly Nadder that turned, running back over to you two. It roared loudly, pushing Ghost to the ground, skinning his upper arm. 

You readied yourself, quickly dropping the axe as the Nadder ran to you. 

Ghost scrambled back up, grabbing his axe. His heart pounded as he lifted it and ran. You noticed him and turned quickly to the Nadder.

You reached up, scratching behind its ear, down to its chin and right… there.

The Nadder dropped, happily out for a nap.

Ghost panted, lowering his axe in disbelief. You smiled at him and shrugged.

This continued on. Spending time with Toothless you learned he was just like a cat. 

Using a hammer to shine a light across the ground, you watched with amusement as Toothless chased after it. Hopping and purring to catch it.

Training faced you with the Terrible Terror. Which admittedly you didn't expect it to be as small as it was.

“Meet the Terrible Terror.”

A small door attached to the main door opened, like a cat door. The tiny dragon scuttling out, licking its eyeball, staring at you all.

“Aw, it's like the size of my- ah!!” Soap jumped back as the Terror jumped at him. You all scattered as Soap landed on the ground, the terror chewing on his nose. 

“Oh I am hurt, I am very much hurt!”

The Terror perked up, seeing a light moving across the ground. It flicked its tail, smiling and rushing from Soap after the light. 

You guided it with the shiny part of your shield back into its small hut, closing the door with your foot.

“Wow, he's better than you ever were.” Soap rubs his nose, looking at Ghost.

After which you spent more time working on a harness and a better string attachment for the tail fin.

When rushed through the woods up ran into Ghost, throwing his axe into different trees, training his aim.

He raised his axe, pausing when he saw you. You two looked at each other, and then you rushed off. You couldn't let him see Toothless. 

When Ghost turned to follow after you, you had somehow already disappeared. 

Fuck!

You began to work on the positions of your contraption with Toothless. Strapping him to a tree stump so you could write down the number of each foot turn.

Able to move your heel and shift the position of the tailfin through the rope.

“Position one.” You shifted the lever, writing it down on your little piece of paper. “And position two.” He shifts it, Toothless' wings catching air and the rope snapped. 

“Gah!” You gasped as you were thrown back to the ground. 

Toothless groaned and rolled over, pulling you up by the waist, the waist retainer stuck to the clip of Toothless' saddle.

“Oh brother…”

Forced to drag Toothless back to the village while still tangled together, you snuck past a few guards and led him into the smithing shop. 

You looked around for something to pry the hook open, Toothless shoving his nose in a basket. When he flicked it off, it hit one of the weapons on the wall, causing noise.

Ghost who was passing, heading back, begrudgingly home, heard it.

He walked over to the smithing window. “Y/n?? Are you in there??”

Both you and Toothless looked up. You quickly dropped what you were doing and pushed yourself out the smithing window, looking at him. 

“Ghost- hi, Ghost. Hi, hi… hi Ghost.” You fumbled with the waist trainer. Toothless sniffing around and pulling you back against the doors.

Toothless looked around, spotting a sheep. The sheep spotted him, immediately rushing away. 

“I normally don't care what people do but you're acting weird.”. Ghost points an accusatory finger. “Well, weirder.”

You huffed, stumbling back. The trainer lifted you off your feet. Ghost stared at you as the doors of the smithing window gave in and sucked you back. Ghost immediately rushed over and opened it, seeing the smelter empty. 

You and Toothless sneaking away and flying off. That. Was. Way too close…

That day was the day your father arrived back. One of the boats with several holes in it and barely survived. Their search for a nest of dragons once again produced no fruit.

Gobber was there when Stoick arrived back. “Well, I trust you found the nest at least?”

“Not even close.” He growled, walking past with a fixed frown.

“Oh. Excellent.” Gobber said sarcastically, following Stoick. 

“I hope you had a little more success than me.”

“Well, if by success, you mean that your parenting troubles are over with, then... yes.” He took a basket of supplies over his shoulder while he walked.

Various different Vikings congratulating Stoick on his kid actually becoming vikinglike. Can you imagine that eh?

“Their gone??” Stoick asked.

“Yeah... most afternoons. But who can blame them? I mean the life of a celebrity's very rough. They can barely walk through the village without being swarmed by his new fans.” Gobber replied.

“Y/n??”

“Who would have thought it eh? He has this… way with the beasts.”

Stoick’s eyes widened. Yes. What he'd been waiting for your entire life!

Off somewhere near the edge of the island, you were busy with Toothless. Having written up your complete cheat sheet, you secured the small paper with all of your positions to Toothless' saddle. Slowly gliding through the air.

“Alright bud we're gonna take this nice and slow” You looked over the sheet. “Here we go, here we go. Position…” 

“Three. No… four.” You looked down at the foot pedal and positioned it, the tail fin opening. Toothless looked down at it, wiggling his head and getting used to it. 

The gentle glide turned into a slow fly, Toothless guiding with your help through the winds, his wings catching air flawlessly.

Toothless flew you up into the air, passing some clouds. You held on, looking back at the tail fin. “Alright. It's go time, it's go time.”

Toothless roared and dove down toward the sea stacks littering around the island ocean.

“Come on buddy! Come on buddy!” You encourage. You held onto the saddle tightly when Toothless flew down over the water, the waves lapping up to touch his belly as you went by. 

You looked up as you passed through two connected sea stacks, watching the birds startle and fly off. “Yes, it worked!” 

The tail was holding up so far.

You flew up away from the water, attempting to make a turn and throwing Toothless into a sea stack. He growled and flapped violently. “Sorry!” You winced.

Barely recovering you saw another stack, attempting to pull him up sharply and hitting another. He growled again. “It was my fault.” You cringed.

He hit you with his ear. “Yeah yeah, I'm on it. Position four- uh, three.” You shifted the foot pedal and took off into the sky. Soaring up over the sea stacks and into the fluffy clouds.

“Yeah!! Aw this is nice. The wind in my -” the paper attached to the saddle flew off and into the wind. “Cheat sheet!” You reached back to try and grab it. 

“Stop!!” 

Toothless flapped his wings, halting as best he could, sending you forward. The hook on the waist belt and the saddle came off. 

“No!!” Toothless saw you and panicked, falling back and scrambled. “No!! Oh no!!” You yelled as you fell and spiraled in the sky down toward the sea.

Toothless roared when he saw you falling faster than him. “Oh, gods! Oh, no!!” You cried your lungs out.

“Alright! You gotta kind angle yourself!” You flipped onto your back, trying to help Toothless. “Okay, no, no, no... come back down towards me! Come back down-- YOW!” Toothless’ tail smacked you as you fell. 

You flipped onto your front, reaching out to grab the hook on the saddle, just out of reach. 

Toothless wailed and cried when you finally grabbed it, managing to pull yourself on. Reattaching and gripping the saddle, angled downward. 

The cheat sheet hit you in the face and you grabbed it, putting it between your teeth. You zoomed straight toward a downward plain of trees, trying to pull Toothless back up.

He roared and whined, zooming down at an angle over the trees, his wings catching wind. As you zoomed down to the bottom you pulled the cheat sheet again. With all the wind you couldn't read anything on it.

Looking between the sheet and some sea stacks, you tossed the sheet,grabbing the saddle and readjusting the foot pedal. 

Toothless roared and zoomed to the side, making the corner before you could hit the stones.

You zoomed through the various passages, shifting the foot pedal again through the fog. Coming shooting out the other side into the clear open air. 

You panted, blood pumping with adrenaline. “Yeah!!” You raised your arms. Toothless smiled and shit a blast into the air, ruining your celebration. “Come on…”

You were pummeled into the fire, pushing your hair back and covering your clothes in specs of dirt and char. 

You flew with Toothless some more, your adventure leading you back to a sea stack, there you got some fish and made a small fire.

Toothless laid down, retching up one of his fish heads while you leaned back against him, cooking your own dinner over the fire.

“Uh, no thanks, I'm good.” You refused the fish head. 

Some small dragons spotted you and flew over to your little set up. Those tiny Terrible Terrors. Toothless growled, protecting his fish as they came over, snapping at one.

You watched as one of them grabbed the head of the fish Toothless had belched up and shot at another dragon who tried to take it.

Toothless watches unimpressed, when his food started moving. One of the dragon's trying to sneak a fish from his pile. Toothless growled, grabbing the fish in his teeth and pulling it back. 

The Terror whined, causing toothless to bellow a low laugh. 

The Terror squeaked and stood up, snapping at Toothless. 

You looked between the two as it stood up on its back legs and inhaled. Before it could do anything Toothless shot a small blast at it, inflating it and it puffed out smoke, whining. 

You chuckled. “Not so fireproof on the inside are ya?” You tossed one of your fish. “Here ya go.” It scuttled over and wolfed it down quickly. 

Licking its eyeball and cautiously wandering over to you. It whines, curling up beside you, purring softly.

“Everything we know about you guys… It's wrong.”

Unfortunately it won't let me post this much so to read the rest of it please see the reblog I did for the rest of the post. ❤

[ziipzeepzop-eez]

leoichi as adoptive parents hcs! | platonic, found family, two goobers and a 'baby'.

they're just dumb and in love. both with each other, and you.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

𝒂/𝒏: this is just pure brainrot tbh. shameless self indulgence of these dorks. word vomit that I definitely tried to format in a someday coherent way. ridiculous amount of fluff imho. the embodiment of spongebob's house when it got sucked dry by all them sea worms......whatever tf they were: yeah that's my brain being reduced to mush after FINALLYYYYY getting it all out. /lhj

Say it with me, now. *raises hands like a maestro* Blaaaaaaaame the brainnnnwoorrrrmmmss. 🐛💥🧠

anyway enjoy your ✨fruitbowl parents✨ agenda. ᡣ𐭩

leo 🫐

such. a mother.

always fretting over your health and safety :(( he just wants you to be safe !! happy !! healthy !! always.

big hugger/cuddler: i’m talking big ol’ bear hugs, snuggles, smothering your face in kisses, play-fighting (he makes sure not to hurt you!), head rubs/pats, the whole shabang.

of course, if you’re not comfortable with physical touch– he doesn’t overstep your boundaries!

there are so many different ways he showcases his love and affection to you; he’s a very caring parent.

very protective over you.

not in the prohibiting/constrictive sense, but in the best way that you know he’s always got your back.

both him and yui are fairly protective over you– and both of them always got your back– dgmw, but leo will throw down if your reputation/safety is on the line.

teaches you boundaries (in all aspects including others and yourself) and how to enforce them. gets a bit violent when protecting yours in the moments your boundaries are crossed.

you're his baby and nobody’s allowed to mess w his babies >:((

don’t get me started ✋🏼 on if it’s a.... *speaks cautiously* bullying situation.

NONEEEE OF Y’ALL ARE LEAVING THAT DINGY SCHOOL OFFICE WITHOUT JUSTICE BEING SERVED LMAOOAOOOO

as much as he clowns the aspect of them, leo can be a bit of a karen himself when it comes to your reputation/safety!

(& truthfully i think yui would play peacekeeper of sorts, especially if leo starts getting really heated but that's only if it escalates really badly. but tbh he can be just as intense. they're both always ready to throw down for you, anywhere, anytime.)

real talk: it's not so much the child as it will be the parents leo snarks at. he’s knowledgeable in the fact that behaviors are learned. taught.

while intolerant to any behavioral that bring you discomfort, he's glaring holes into the parental figures/guardians, hackles raised, and Lord above is it more. than enough.

leo – for all the jokester that he is – knows how to hunker down and get serious and boy oh boy does that man get serious when his beloveds are involved.

he is very good at reading people. he has a sharp judge of character. and he'll take up any business with whoever is responsible for your offender's-in-question wellbeing; if their behaviors reflect the hostilities you were met with.... well, there's not really much else to say, is there?

he'll throw down with the parents and he'll throw down wITH THE KID(S) TOO HE DOES NOT GIVE A FRESH DAMN.

girl fu them kids and fu you too energy. /hj

everybody’s getting schooled on this day and it ain’t gonna be by the teachers. 💥💥💥

takes you out for food and sweet treats after such a harrowing ordeal 😮‍💨 is probably still ranting long after they've picked you up from school and has to he calmed down by yui lol. and if you don’t like sweets, he’ll get you a cute little gift from the shops! :)

he just wants to see you smile, man. 💔 anything for you.

later on, back home, he sits you down and speaks to you in a warm, lovely tone. he inquires about anything else that might've gone down, any icky thoughts in that little head of yours..?

reassures you that none of it was your fault. comforts you in every way possible because like i said, leo is very good at reading people. how much more would he get to know you— his child? he knows how to make you feel better. no matter what.

but on the chance that you may have started something.... mmmm.

his parental patented scolding techniques come in. probs the "I'm not mad, just Disappointed." type. AND IT HURTTTTTS EVERY SINGLE TIME.

(but this is Very Rare seeing as he'd raise you with manners and good behavior he don't play none of that mess.)

you don't have to say anything. you can say something, deny it. affirm it. if it bothered you, genuinely, he'll know. if it didn't — he'll know it too.

either way, he ruffles your head and smiles that smile down at you. "you're everything to me. you know that, right?"

you do.

calls you by the cutest endearments in spanish !! the most common are: mijo/a, mi tesoro, mi vida, burbuja/burbujita, and cielo. mi is always a constant at the front of them :')) he's just so proud that you're his kid.

speakin’ of which– if you speak Spanish/pick it up from him, he gets so smiley and giddy :(( and y’all just have convos of silly jokes and sweet nothings that seem like not much out the ordinary in the moment but it's memories in the making and you look back on them and and, he just looks at you with so much fondness and :((( i am so SAD.

sings to you a lot. especially by means of comfort. sure, he'll burst into an impromptu dance and song number that's so ridiculous, so silly, but so entertaining that it's bound to put a smile on your face (his ulterior motives all along muahahahaaa!).

he also sings you lullabies. especially when you have a nightmare that's shaken you badly enough to tears. he's by your side in an instant, shushing you gently, wiping your face and reassuring you that he's there and that he won't let anything hurt you, ever.

movie night cuddles! if you and yui fall asleep before him, he'll adjust so you're all in one big cuddle pile. in the following morning he'll lightheartedly complain about it, but trust me. it's his favorite thing ever. (being curled up and cozy and safe with the two biggest centers of his universe.)

takes you to see your favorite uncles, aunties, and grampa splinter! sometimes he'll sit back and just watch you interact with them, his Proud Dad™ aura threatening to soften him and everyone in his closest vicinity to mush, and only snaps out of it when met with a teasing quip from one of his siblings.

casey is the cool nomad older brother/uncle figure who visits every so often and he's just, so exceedingly cool to you. he brings you souvenirs from his travels and spends a lot of quality time with you - y'all's relationship is lighthearted and fun loving!

—and leo cries because his kids omg his- their kids are so stinkin cute and wholesome and yui yui,,they really built themselves their castle on the hill didn't they omgomgomgomg guaaaaueueueuueue *cue rabbit paw shoulder pats of support*

because of leo's insomnia, he's your constant nighttime company. on the nights where sleep just doesn't come so easily, you can count to find him lounging about in the house somewhere. he'll fret gently if he sees you awake at an ungodly hour, but ultimately welcomes you with open arms.

▹▹ p. s. his chest is a prime cuddle-hug-back-to-sleep haven. with his deep churrs, one large hand rubbing comfortingly over your back, the warmth that creates coupled with the natural coolness from his body - it'll have you out like a light. worked when you were younger, works now. always will.

always the jokester, sooososo many jokes and lighthearted teasing with this guy. of course we know his jokes are insufferably constant (what? he's a dad now! he can ACTUALLY USE DAD JOKES AND THEY'LL ACTUALLY HIT HOME!!), but get this: the teasing - while good-natured - comes with the afterthought of teaching you subconsciously to hold your ground. it's his way of "raising you tough."

howbeit: if you're naturally sensitive, leo will protect it with all he's got. reassures you that sensitivity does not equal weakness and gets his esteemed example to deepen those teachings!

(( "look at uncle angie!! he cried over the fact that snakes don't have any arms yesterday. (/ref + /lh) and he's one of the strongest in our hamato-usagi battalion!"

"why would you say tone indicators out loud, papa?" ))

it's just— the world can be a dark and unforgiving place, with even darker and more unforgiving people.

as much as it pains him, he knows him and yuichi aren't always going to be there to protect you from every little thing. forever seems like it right now, but you still have so much growing to do.

he wants to make sure you'll be able to hold your own. not only physically, but emotionally/verbally.

the principles and lessons he teaches you are tidbits of gold that shape your mind and future and you carry them with you for a long time to come, whether you know it or not.

to conclude this- trust. you definitely know how to fight. at the very most defend yourself and others if need be !! i mean c'mon: you're the heir to a ninja and a samurai ! you know how to throw a punch just as well as you can parry it.

while they teach you the core value of never starting the fight and walking away to deescalate, they also teach you to kick names and take ass. (/ref) ain't nobody messin' with you, champ. 😎

—and if they do? they have a wholeeee clan to deal with now. because anyone who has a problem with you has a problem with all of your family — both sides.

in living out their motto, anata wo hitori janai, with you — he seems to relearn it in a special way each and every time.

and he wouldn't have it any other way. <3

yuichi 🍇

doesn’t always use pet names, but he says your name so fondly all the time – just beholds you like you’re the absolute treasure of his life (which you basically are tbh) – it feels like an endearment all its own.

your gentle force: he’s the one you turn to when everything gets too loud, too harsh, too overwhelming, too much.

y’all are mad in tune; all it takes is one look (not specifically in the eyes).

he’d pull you close. his fur is warm, soft, smells like tea leaves and incense and home.

given the situation – if you wanted silence, that’s what he’d give you.

if you needed something other than the ringing in your ears, something other than your mind, he hums.

he hums, pets your head, rocks you back and forth – right there in his lap. (you’ll never be too big, too old, for them to hold you.)

if you don't prefer being held, he'll give you your space. rest assured, he's respectful just like leo and doesn't ever want to make you uncomfortable. but he does stay close. if you ever need him, he'll always be close by.

even if you guys don't talk, it's just reassuring having his presence close by. to know you're not (and never will be) alone.

he holds you .... in a different way. 🥹

if you need words, he tells you every little thing he loves about you. tells you why you’re his.

he tells you how he admires you– not only as his child, but as an individual.

he reminds you that you will always have a place in his heart, nestled right between leo.

for all his harebrained-ness (see what i did there? *wheeze, knee slap*) – there’s no second-guessing his intense fondness for you. alongside leo, you're his heart and he moves in it every single day.

his friends are all your godparents.

now hear me out: yes, they could all be your aunties/uncles, and in a way they are!!

i mean, that's what you call them sometimes too! but gen, chisa and kitsune are his platonic soulmates. they just... locked in. 🔐🫂

so they're all just that little bit closer than your standard "auntie" and "uncle." ❤️‍🩹

they're your favorite babysitters. on yuichi's side of the family, anyway!

yui is a bit of a klutz, but somehow. he always. manages. to catch you. before you fall. before you even have the chance to trip up!

chalk it up to his samurai honed skills, his training paying off, his newfound parental instincts, a whirlwind of all three! he will gladly fall ass over kettle because he'll be damned if you're at risk to gain a scratch or two on his watch.

onlookers would suspect that leo is the more "involved" parent between them both, but that's a load of crock.

be it because yui's aura isn't as imposing as his beloved turtle counterpart that leads to this train of thought or not, it couldn't be farther from the truth! yui is the one who's constantly hovering (/pos).

he moves seamlessly, as natural as air, through the movements of your life that sometimes... it can almost seem like he isn't there. but like air, you know he's there, and you reap the benefits every single day.

cuddles with him are supreme as well! he's fluffy and warm. his embrace just speaks volumes of safety and familiarity.

every time you're near him you feel a little sleepy because it's so warm and safe :(( especially if you're not feeling too good! when you're feeling under the weather, he's the first you subconsciously seek out :'((((((

makes sure you're getting your food groups every single day. fruit and veggie platters, afternoons spent in the garden outside of your home, sunshine and the smell of fresh soil and sliced cucumbers are what made your childhood summers just that more magical.

scolds leo if he feeds you too much junk loll.

yuichi is like your vitamin, both figuratively and literally. he's learned so much from growing up on the farm with his grandmother, natural remedies are his forte.

in this additional sense, he teaches you farm work. four times out of ten, it ends in disaster, maybe or maybe not including a massacred watermelon grove, but through trial and error, you've managed to keep a good portion of accurate agriculture and gardening knowledge ingrained in the long-term area of your brain. 🙏🏼

gets nervous when you go out :(( he's of course happy that you get your freedom, but he can't help but to feel antsy whenever you're out of he and leo's sights; it's not that he doesn't trust you, he's just a worrywart /aff.

so! without fail, each time: before you go out, he'll kneel down to gently bonk foreheads with you, closes his eyes, and speaks an old Japanese blessing of safety and wellbeing over you. something he learned from his grandmother.

whereas leo is ecstatic to teach you the way of the sword (and is methodical with it too dw), yuichi may as well faint himself into a coma each time.

he gets much better when you're older, of course, even teaches you himself. but when you were younger? heeeheesh.... nobody. will forget the incident at the 6th Birthday Party Swordsmanship Knighthood Round Table Esk Extravaganza.

(fake blood was involved. a lighthearted prank gone wrong amidst the already electric atmosphere of cake and fun. a prank gone hard hearted, if you will. yuichi fainted twice, vomited once, and catapulted leo out of a window. the pigs got out of the pen. the koi fish were fished out of the pond. law enforcement was contacted. donnie's confetti canons backfired at one point. you guys are still finding glitter in random spots in the house to this day. it was madness.)

takes you on hikes and new adventures! you guys are always getting into something, whether it's discovering a new shadow dancing group in town's square or accidentally liberating a herd of cattle from a neighboring farmhouse auction, these make the best memories with him. because he exuded glee and held you close the entire time.

in calm moments, yui would recount tales of his ancestors to you. especially that of his great great grandfather (?? how many greats were there I'm sorry ajshdjd) - while you look up at him in wonder.

and in moments when you're not looking- he looks at you in wonder too. a wonder that only a parent could hold for their beloved child.

—

your dads sing to you. they both do that a lot, actually.

i imagine you get so used to hearing a little croon here, a gentle hum there … so much so that pure radio silence settles discomfort in your bones. there was always something.

even the little things that nudge you a reminder in the subconscious voices of your parents: you're here, you're alive, we're here for you, we'll always be here for you, i love you.

their songs make your outlook on life a little lighter. something more melodic. like the songs they sing you.

home becomes a song to you, unconsciously.

if someone were to ask you to define home to you . . .

it’s the bone-crushing hugs of your turtle dad. the deep, all-encompassing warmth. the smell of tea leaves, incense, bamboo wood – the sound of soft laughter, sing-songy words, horrendous dad jokes and endless puns. the constant words of affirmation that pick you up in your lowest moments and raise you even higher at your best. the gentle forehead bonks. both: sci-fi comics series and legends of samurai and ninja alike as wondrous bedtime stories. warm eyes, even warmer hands grasping yours. reassurance. safety. the love of your family.

love incarnate.

storge.

home is love. love is home.

—

with parents like them,

you will never go hungry.

you will never cry nor be alone.

you will never fight with nobody by your side. 

you will never be unwanted.

you will never sing songs of your sorrow without it being sunrisen by joy.

you will never, ever go unloved.

you're the brightest light in their lives and they make sure you know it, every single day! 🌟

© ziipzeepzop-eez all reservations apply.

[whorety-k]

Ebony Coasts [Part 1]

Happy Mermay everybody!! I'm deciding to come out of the woodworks and actually write something because of the brain worms all of my favorite writers are giving me. I decided on some Corvus Corax love today because I feel like he's often part of the forgotten Primarchs in fanfiction (and I'm also a Raven Guard girlie <3).

Pairing: Merfolk!Corvus Corax x fem!Reader (second person POV)

Song recommendation: The Night Does Not Belong To God - Sleep Token

"And you remember everything / Only till the sun recedes once again / And the night comes down like heaven."

Warnings: Ocean mentions / potential thalassophobia

Word Count: 2.2k

[Part 2]

The full moon above hung in the sky like a beacon, illuminating the ebb and flow of the tides. Stars were all but drowned out by its glow, glimmers of the crashing waves reflecting what little light they put out. As it so often did this time of night, the chill settled deep into your bones. Still you were at ease.

You were never quite sure what called you out to the ocean so late in the night, and for whatever reason 'The waves are calming,' wasn't enough for your friends and coworkers to get off of your back. It had become a habit to gaze at the stars as a stress-reliever after your recent move closer to the coast. The two-hour work commute had taken its toll on your psyche, and you have not regretted your choice to find an apartment closer to your workplace.

What you now lacked in commute stress, you more than made up for stressing over your newest case. Coastline conservation was your forte; you were the one often called in to solve complex cases, and yet this one seemed to leave you puzzled each time. From kids tearing up the natural flora or an illegal succulent harvesting operation, you had been able to solve every situation that had been thrown your way before, but this situation didn't match any of the patterns you had trained yourself to look for.

It stumped you.

Caves were dug practically overnight into the cliffside, then left completely uninhabited by the time you found them. No one man could have accomplished such a feat without at least a noise complaint from the houses on the cliff above.

Random caches of sea glass, precious stones, jewelry, and other shiny objects were tucked away within pits in the caverns as if hidden for later. Interestingly enough, these caches seemed to grow in size if they were left untouched. The last hoard you had taken as evidence resulted in that particular cave being completely abandoned overnight, often filled in.

And most puzzling: there were no other actual signs of anyone ever having tread there. No tools, no trash, no foot prints. Nothing but the little stores of trinkets. It was infuriating. Whatever punks had been tearing up the coastline were masters at their craft.

Tonight, you were determined to catch the bastards that had been giving you stress once and for all. You even had the local authorities on speed dial (despite your distrust in them properly handling the situation) in case anyone decided to get violent.

A gust of frigid wind draws you from your thoughts. The night isn't getting any younger, and you need to get down to the cave. You hug your windbreaker jacket closer to your body as you wander back down the metal dock, boots clunking loudly across the water. The crackle of gravelly sand crunching replaces the heavy thumps as you descend onto the illuminated beachfront.

You almost lose track of time as you travel along the high tides. You've walked this particular beach head a hundred times at nearly all times of day, and by now it's all beginning to blur together. You force yourself to focus on the present this time, fiddling with the moonstone pendant around your neck. You had taken it from the last cave for study, but when it solved absolutely nothing, you decided to keep it as a token to remember what you were working towards. ‘A stone of new beginnings’, they say. Maybe it'll be the beginning of actually solving this damned case.

A cavity in the cliff face finally comes into view. From this distance, the high tide creates a shallow cove that appears to fill part of the cavern. There aren't any tracks other than your own as you approach. Whoever created the small structure must not have returned to it just yet.

A flicker of white catches your eye.

You come to a dead stop.

It barely registers that you're just at the maw of the cavern when you remember how to breathe. You quietly chastise yourself with an annoyed huff. Doing this job for as long as you have, you really should be more used to the way the reflections on the water’s surface play tricks on you, especially when at nightfall. With a shake of your head, you take a step into the thin layer of salty water covering the floor of the cavern. You silently thank the waders you wear for keeping your feet dry.

The moonlight doesn't reach farther than a few meters in the darkness of the space, you note as you tread deeper into its embrace. Without the wind chill, it is far warmer than the marine layer settling just outside. Your hand fishes into an inner jacket pocket to retrieve your flashlight–

Splash!

…Of course you'd drop it. Right now, of all times. Professional.

You kneel down into the sparkling abyss and feel around for the waterproof torch, letting out a sigh of relief when its plastic casing finds your fingers. You grasp the pesky light and stand back up to onyx orbs peering directly into yours.

You blink. It blinks.

A flurry of movement torrents the cave as rapid splashing fills the air. In your panic, you slip on the wet stones and fall back into the water as the jet-and-alabaster creature looms before you, eyes boring into your very core. This thing is huge. Its skin gleams unnaturally white, rippling with lithe muscles as it leans down over you, trapping you between its muscular arms. You desperately look up into its (his?) stony face as you try to sprawl backwards, searching for any purchase in the puddle currently soaking your backside. It stops you with a large clawed hand on your chest, pinning you down firmly to the flooded floor. The creature (man?) is delicate enough not to slice you open.

“Stop.”

You freeze. He stills. Did he just speak–?

“Your efforts are fruitless. Cease this before you harm yourself.” The deep voice that comes from the man is rough, as if it is not often used. “Please,” it adds, quieter.

You stare up at the man like cornered prey, but you heed his words and stop your fight. The hand on your chest briefly trails to your neck, claw catching on something before shifting to cradle your back. He lifts your upper half until you are sitting upright once again, assuring you'll hold the position before he retrieves his hand.

The moon and proximity allow you to finally get a semi-decent look at the man before you. He must be at least three meters tall, even leaning over slightly. Long black hair frames a strong, admittedly handsome face. His blunt, wispy bangs just barely hide black eyebrows knit with concern and amusement. Webbed ear-fins hide amongst his ebony hair in the dark, a gradient of charcoal grey at their edges. Your eyes respectfully shy away from his athletic chest to the gills tucked along his ribcage. When he finally moves back enough for you to fully sit upright, you notice the dorsal fin that trails down his entire back, leading into a tail that looks as if its melting into the water below. His fins drape over him like the softest silks, sharing that charcoal gradient from what you can see in the dark.

Your eyes widen at the sight, and the giant seems to catch on.

“Why do you continue to return here, little human?” he inquires.

You look back up at his face to once again see that perfectly neutral expression. It frightens you to know that he knows you've been here before, when you had no idea he even existed until just now. Finding your voice takes an embarrassingly long time. “...I…”, you start, voice laced with thinly veiled awe, “...work in coastal habitat conservation. I've been trying to figure out who was vandalizing protected areas on this beach head.”

The man’s head cocks to the side curiously, the only indication that he had heard you. It's his turn to observe you now– at least, you think that's what he's doing from the subtle shifts of the muscles surrounding his eyes. The fully black scleras do not make his gaze clear in the low light, but you swear you can see how his expression seems to fall.

“I am no vandal. I am merely an inhabitant, and I do not appreciate such accusations,” he growls.

Your words get lost in your throat as you straighten up and move to apologize, instinct kicking into to reassure the creature you've just met that you didn't mean to imply that he was a vandal. If anything, in hindsight, you're the asshole raiding his home.

You're cut off when he raises a hand to silence you, softly shaking his head. He seems disappointed, but the wave passes him by. Firmly, he presses, “I intend to stay here, and I would hope that you will be of no trouble for me to do just that.” You don't miss how he clasps his clawed hands together before him.

You quickly nod your head, shifting to stand back up. The chill of the sea water soaking through your clothes down into your waders is starting to become too much. Your body begins to tremble. With an unsteady voice, you croak out, “Nope! No problem here! Technically, it's my job to protect your habitat, so…” You voice drifts off as you realize you're either going to have to:

A. Convince the world that mermaids exist, or,

B. Lie on your report.

…And telling the world about merfolk sounds like a lot more paperwork than you're willing to do in this lifetime. You can't imagine what horrors bureaucracy and media would do to this (so far) gentle giant. If he exists, there's certainly more of his kind and you are not about to accidentally start an illegal merfolk poaching trade.

A quiet huff leaves the pale merman, and you focus back up on him. It takes a moment for you to realize he's laughing at your crisis. You fold your arms, body still shuddering from the chill. “Your secret is safe with me,” you declare, confidently standing up straight.

The merfolk nods in response, clearly amused by the whole situation despite the grim countenance that colors him. A silent staring contest commences between the two of you, gentle sounds of crashing waves filling the air from outside of the cavern. The scattered moonlight causes his scales to glitter like obsidian. You get the feeling that you're going to be watched from the shadows to assure you keep your promise, and you're not sure how to feel about it.

His soft voice breaks the silence, notably warmer. “You will be returning here again regardless.”

It's not a question; it's a statement, and you reckon it's not an incorrect one. You defend yourself, “It's not every day that I discover something out of my childhood fantasies is real and causing me hassles with my job.”

Your comment earns you another soft huff of a laugh. It's the best you'll get out of him, you assume. “It is not every day that a human raids my den and steals my belongings,” he chides.

Sputtering at his accusation, you avert your gaze and draw your lips into a tight line. The heat in your cheeks could burn a hole through steel. “I didn't know! I... can't exactly get those back for you until they're cleared out of evidence, but I will try.”

The answer seems to charm and please him. “That would be pleasant.”

Another bout of silence fills the cavern as you feel yourself being studied. Awkwardly, you tell the merfolk your name, extending an arm out for a handshake.

The man stares at it blankly, blinking once before he places his hand on top of yours. It's not correct, but at least he has the spirit. Now that you're not in a panic, you notice just how cold his hand is on yours. “You may call me Corvus Corax,” he says, withdrawing, “Is it normal for your kind to shake as you do?”

You cross your arms over your chest, rubbing your hands over the wet jacket covering your upper arms. “Not particularly. I'm wet and it's freezing,” you jest, giving Corvus a smile.

The words have little weight on Corvus Corax. Cold and wet are his normal. If hypothermia doesn't take you, embarrassment and culture shock certainly will. You look down at your clammy hands.

“I should get home before I freeze to death,” you state bluntly, wincing as a breeze from the mouth of the cave causes the wet windbreaker to stick to your back.

Corvus nods, simply staring. You aren't sure what you're expecting when you give him a wave, but the sheer amount of nothing he seems to give only serves to intrigue you further. You can feel his eyes on you as you turn to exit the cave, mentally preparing yourself to falsify a report about a group of ne’er-do-wells digging into the cliff face for an unknown reason and how they narrowly evaded identification… however unbelievable it is. You step out of the cave in a distracted daze, still convincing yourself of everything as your boots crack on the gravel once more.

You know you'll be returning. Corvus knows you'll be returning. Gingerly, with trembling hands, you reach up to fiddle with your pendant once more to ground yourself when you have a jarring realization.

That bastard took your necklace.

[Part 2]

[weeb-polls-with-pip]

Autistic Anime Boys Side B Round 1 Match 11

Propaganda:

Mikey -

"This is a headcanon that didn’t originally occur to me, but then I encountered it in the wild, and something in my brain kinda lit up like ‘!!!’. I couldn’t stop turning the idea over in my head, like a slow roasting marshmallow, getting dangerously close to an open flame. So, here we are. First of all, Mikey is the leader of a biker gang. He has an immense interest in motorcycles (including their parts and repairing/building them), something of which he is able to bond with other delinquents over. He is frequently commented on by others as showcasing ‘childish’ behavior, such as whining when he doesn’t get his way, taking naps on his vice-commander, Draken’s, back or getting upset when he receives a kid’s meal with no flag in it. He often relies on Draken in a caretaker sort of role, such as providing the aforementioned flags to avoid meltdowns, tying his hair up just the right way in the mornings, going to his house to wake him up (all these things appear frequent activities/rituals Mikey relies on), and being “his heart.” Mikey appears to have naturally low empathy. Pretty early on in the series, he and Draken pay a visit to a girl who was put in the hospital by a rival gang, for being affiliated with some of their members. Her parents encounter them and they are furious that anyone involved in gang activity would even dare show their faces, despite Mikey and Draken not being the ones to actually hurt her. He insists they shouldn't apologize to the parents, because it's not their fault and they personally didn't do anything, failing to comprehend the bigger picture, that the lifestyle of delinquency and crime in general and the violence it breeds, not just between those who partake, but innocents caught in the crossfire, is what led to their daughter's assault. And they are feeling grief and anger, thus acting irrationally and lashing out (which, while illogical to Mikey, is a typical emotional reaction to this sort of situation). But he eventually amends his opinion at Draken’s urging—reserving emotional consideration for when his friends are involved primarily. Difficulty regulating emotions, selective listening, and self-centeredness are also all traits that Mikey has exhibited. He often has atypical/repressed facial expressions. He has safe foods—preferring sweet things like dorayaki and taiyaki above all else. He has a comfort item in the form of an old, raggedy towel, which is, in his words “his whole life,” and refuses to give it up even when his family urges him to throw it out. “The tip of his towel” is canonically his “favorite spot”—He is seen stimming with it by rolling it up and kneading it with his hands and fingers. He also prefers to dress for comfort, in loose and baggy clothes whenever he is outside of his gang uniform, and he always wears the same flip-flops, even when it would seem inconvenient. Some other things that don’t necessarily point to autism, but maybe could be considered in the broader picture with everything else?

Routine night motorcycle rides with his brother and childhood friend, which he continues, same time and route, after their deaths, while talking like they are still there with him (though this is more him just honoring their memories and finding comfort in these old actions)

‘Dark impulse’ flare-ups could be interpreted as meltdowns that cross into violent territory? (Like after Sanzu allegedly broke his new toy as a child) But again, dark impulses are a whole other can of worms that could probably be likened to other things better than autism

He is canonically considered a martial arts genius/prodigy, which could be read as some sort of savantism, but also just typical shounen anime shenanigans Despite some of the shakier things to consider, I find myself really liking the idea of autistic Mikey, and I do think there’s a lot in the story in favor of that reading of him. I’d love to see him represented here!"

Yotasuke -

"He has terrible social skills and doesn't filter his words, and although he does not have bad intentions, he often comes off extremely cold or harsh, saying things like "Talking with you irritates me so can you please leave me alone?". He struggles to make friends, especially since he purposefully pushes people away. Yatora, the main character, brings the number of contacts on his phone to a grand total of three. His wardrobe consists of almost exactly the same shirt over and over again. He holds his pencil and chopsticks extremely weird. He loves animals and is often pictured with them, for example cats and rabbits. He was considered extremely talented at art when he was a child, and his art is still amazing but it has messed up the way he interacts with others. He feels as though art is all he has. This causes him to resent Yatora, who appears to have so many skills and career options, as well as a thriving social life. Yotasuke also has a very strained relationship with his mother, who can be quite manipulative at times. He is also very silly if that means anything to you. Everyone should go read Blue Period actually."

[cairavende]

Worm Arc 11 Interludes thoughts:

AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

Ok. Just in order I think. Sorry for the chaos.

Started off with puppies. I was happy.

Then the puppies started getting a little more violent than needed. I was less happy.

Then Victoria got clowned on a little and I was little bit more happy.

Then the unkillable naked zebra lady showed up everything kinda went downhill. For everyone.

Bitch do not join the supervillain serial killer group, please and thank you.

Seriously though, The Siberian is a bit scary. Just, completely invincible as far as anyone can tell. And super strong.

Theo is having a bad day. And unless someone takes care of Jack Slash for him he's gonna have a bad few years.

Jack Slash is such a poser oh my god. Dude. Come one. You aren't all that.

Also. Jack. Do not toss a loaded baby! That baby had a full diaper. You toss that baby and you are liable to have a containment breach. Speaking from experience, you do not want a containment breach. (Also just don't throw babies of course.)

I hope Theo gets cool powers and is able to become a super amazing hero like he dreams of. On the plus side, probably gonna be lots of opportunities for trigger events coming up. On the minus side, he didn't trigger when Jack Slash was planning on killing him so I don't know if he's gonna be able to.

They were obviously going to go for Labyrinth. She has such amazing powers for mass terror. Though I guess Burnscar never tried to actually recruit her. I assume that was the plan though.

Also Burnscar needs to stop excusing her actions. Just be evil or don't be evil. You don't get to be evil and say it's not your fault (that sure will come up again in these interludes).

I fucking LOVED the description of how Labyrinths powers work. Just the details of everything. So good!

Fucking Colin. Of course they had to go for you. Why can't you just go away and leave my robot daughter alone?

Mannequin is fucking WILD. Like, god damn. Those are sure choices you made. Helps you be creepy as shit though. And get through air vents.

Mannequin writing out "U ME" to Pocketknife Man by laying keyboard keys down on the table one at a time has cursed meet-cute energy.

In the end, Colin survives cause my robot daughter saves him. And I guess she's gonna tell him the truth about being an AI. Fiiiiiiine. I will be polite to Colin if he comes over to dinner. He still needs to apologize to my other daughter though.

Also I'm sure glad the Slaughterhouse Nine won't have any use for the magic pocketknife that can cut through anything that Mannequin took. No worries at all I'm sure. It won't do jack shit for them. Might as well just slash the idea and toss the knife out.

Cool. Some Nazis died. That's great!

Not enough though. Disappointed in Shatterbird.

But if one good thing can come of this whole Slaughterhouse Nine thing, maybe Hookwolf can die. I'm not holding my breath though.

Shatterbird has a very interesting power set. Being specifically glass focused like that. Definitely can see how she would terrorize a city.

Dinah PoV. DINAH POV!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ok well first off, I obviously hated Coil for Dinah already. Enough that I don't really know if the Dinah PoV can technically make me hate him more. But that said, I hate him more. WTF.

The description of her power was so NEAT though! Had a minor moment of "oh hey this paragraph of this precog talking about her power works inside her head is an almost perfect description of how my brain works" which was wild. I don't actually get to see the future though, which is a major difference.

She can actually just full blow see a possible future holy shit! Wow. Like it hurts and she hates it but it's still crazy.

Also I guessed that Crawler was going to come for Traveler in a Vault (that is Noelle's cape name until I am told different) after the Bitch interlude. I was very happy I got that right since I really knew almost nothing about either.

So Crawler just basically can't die and gets stronger every time he gets hurt. I wonder how long it will take him to reach Endbringer level power?

And Traveler in a Vault is just a large monster that is always hungry and can be driven to the point of eating people. That sucks a lot for her.

Also Leviathan came after her too huh? Well that's probably fine and won't matter in the future.

Regent's sister is worse than he is. That's impressive! Like, not good impressive. But impressive.

Getting real close to the "can't exist" physic power set. I guess it's not quite it though.

She should keep a better eye on her phone battery.

AMY DALLON! I knew it would be you.

I knew you were destined to be a tragedy from the moment I met you. You were always going to become a villain. So once I knew the Nine were recruiting it was a guarantee that you'd be recruited.

Specifically, that you'd be recruited by Bonesaw. She is an artist and obviously she is obsessed over the art you could make together.

Holy shit though that chapter.

Lets see. FUCK CAROL. Victoria gets some excuses, she's a kid, she's following her mom's example, etc. But FUCK CAROL. You are partially responsible for what Amy is about to become.

Despite being terrified, Amy seemed to have a dark fascination with everything Bonesaw was doing and saying. Really listened as Bonesaw explained things.

The more detailed view of what Amy's power does is crazy. She really can do just about anything to someone.

“Why not fix your dad?” is where Bonesaw won. It's about 3/5 of the way through the chapter. And she won at that point. That was the killing blow. The rest of the chapter, the remaining 3.5k or so words, is watching Amy bleed out to drive the point home. It is Panacea's death monologue. It is beautiful and tragic and amazing.

All that said, since she is losing anyway, is it bad for me to want more of Bonesaw's notes? SHE HAS LORE! GIVE IT TO ME!

Dad at least seems pretty good. He made the perfect response after getting healed. Unfortunately she was already gone.

AND THERE IT IS. THERE IS THE THAT FINAL STEP. Fucking rewire your adopted sisters mind to have romantic feelings for you. No you don't get to say it was an accident! You chose to do it. Holy shit Amy. You are going to be an amazing (terrifying) villain.

Callback to Burnscar and blaming her power for her actions.

If Worm was a Disney movie Amy would end up with the best song, 100%. Hellfire or similar levels.

[voxofthevoid]

This is less WIP Wednesday and more Teaser Wednesday. I've gathered tiny snippets (150-200 words) from the 15 stories written for the April anniversary projects for this post.

Shibuya swap remains on hold until I finish #15, which may take longer than anticipated—still in time for the project, given that it's going to stretch across April and May owing to the total length.

Of the fifteen fics, eleven are solely Gojou/Yuuji; one is Higuruma/Yuuji; one is Sukuna/Yuuji; one is Kenjaku/Yuuji, and one is Gojou/Megumi/Yuuji (the excerpt is just Gojou/Megumi).

The list of the fics and premises can be found here, though I've given one-line summaries above the excerpts:

01. Gojou/Yuuji: An offhand comment leads to Yuuji discovering the dubious joys of pet ownership.

Yuuji’s sure by now that Gojou’s managing to breathe somehow, though he really can’t figure out how when he’s in the exact same position he settled into when he collapsed on Yuuji and burrowed into his chest like—

“Oh,” Yuuji says, realization dawning, “you’re like a puppy.”

Gojou stills. Slowly, with a strangely severe air, he raises his head. Heavy-lidded blue eyes blink up at Yuuji. “Does that mean I get treats?”

Yuuji blinks right back. “Treats?”

“Puppies need to be trained,” Gojou says sagely, lifting himself up on both arms to hover over Yuuji. “Positive reinforcement. Don’t you know that?”

“No?” Yuuji’s thought of raising puppies, who hasn’t, but it wasn’t ever really a serious thought. It was never an achievable dream anyway. Plus, Gojou’s not actually a puppy. He’s not even any good at making puppy dog eyes. They glow too much.

They’re glowing right now, twin pools of starfire made severe by the way he’s frowning. “You’re not a very responsible dog owner then. Puppies are a lot of work, you know.”

02. Gojou/Yuuji (fem!goyuu): Yuuji finds religion in her teacher’s tits, violently.

“There’s no need to be jealous, Yuuji. Some girls are just late bloomers.”

Gojou’s voice startles Yuuji, making her jump, but the doll in her hand remains peacefully asleep. She sighs, relieved, though not as surprised as she’d have been a week back. It’s not like she was actively focusing on her cursed energy anyway, the pulse and flow of it through her arms an afterthought while she focused on—

What Gojou actually said sinks in then, and Yuuji hurriedly drags her eyes away from Gojou’s chest area.

Her tits, says an unimpressed voice from some rotten corner of her soul. You were staring at her tits, you degenerate worm.

Shut, she tells Sukuna, the fuck up.

Yuuji shoves her down before she can retort, and Sukuna never goes quietly or calmly, but she does go, and Yuuji’s left staring into the too-amused eyes of her very adult, very well-developed teacher.

“Um,” Yuuji says intelligently.

03. Gojou/Yuuji: Yuuji acquires a doll that’s sympathetically connected to Satoru. It’s innocent until it isn’t.

“I’ll leave you to your quality time with this guy,” Satoru says, stepping away from Shouko and the examination table. “Don’t have too much—”

Satoru collapses with a strangled sound, his knees hitting the tile hard enough to send a bolt of pain all the way to his pelvis, except it’s nothing compared to the storm of sensation there, eating through him like someone’s shoved a fist into his asshole, without lube or ceremony.

“—toru! Talk to me, what’s wrong?”

Satoru raises his head and finds Shouko kneeling in front of him, her palms pressed to a wall of solid air—Limitless, expanded on blind instinct.

“Nothing,” he gasps, not needing her incredulous expression to know every inch of him is showing that it’s something. “I…”

…have a cock in my ass that I didn’t put there, Satoru completes inside his head, half a revelation even to himself. He knows this sensation, the stretch and burn of his body around another body, but he also knows why and how this is happening, and that’s where his brain sparks and stutters to a stop.

04. Gojou/Yuuji: Megumi finds out that Gojou’s been giving Yuuji some hands-on sex education.

“An hour? Both of you? Huh.” Itadori shakes his head. “What did he…do?”

“What do you think? It’s Gojou-sensei. He projected a bunch of way-too-explicit pictures, talked about STDs in gruesome detail, and asked if we were into BDSM.”

Itadori blinks slowly. “That’s it?”

“He also called us boring virgins,” Megumi says drily. “Then he ran off with Kugisaki chasing him.”

“Did she catch him?”

“Obviously not.”

“Huh,” Itadori says again. “He skipped all that for me. Got right into it.”

Megumi takes a moment to process that. At least he tries. It doesn’t make sense. Itadori said Gojou’s taking that class for him on Friday, so why’s he talking like it’s already happened? And what does he mean by—

“Right into what?” Megumi asks warily, straightening up from his huddle on the chair. There’s a weird feeling in his spine that’s got nothing to do with the position.

Itadori cocks his head, like he’s confused by Megumi’s confusion. “The sex part.”

05. Gojou/Yuuji: Satoru has a late-night philosophical discussion with the King of Curses.

“I am a pretty interesting guy. And it’s not that I’m complaining about my exalted company, but you know, don’t you, that you shouldn’t be here?”

“Shouldn’t I?” Yuuji asks mildly, now at the foot of Satoru’s bed.

“Sukuna’s been allowed to live because he’s the ideal vessel, capable of fully suppressing you.” Satoru eyes the hand now braced on his mattress, barely an inch away from his left foot. “You don’t look very suppressed to me.”

“Blood,” says Yuuji.

Satoru blinks at the non-sequitur. “Are you a vampire now?”

“What’s that?”

“Mythical creature that drinks the blood of humans.” Satoru bats his eyelashes at Yuuji. “I hear they prefer virgins.”

“Then you’re safe.”

“That’s a hell of an assumption to make about a guy you don’t even know.”

“I know your type.”

“Calling me a slut while climbing into my bed isn’t a good look, Yuuji.”

“I called you nothing,” Yuuji says, now looming over Satoru like a lover. “Only made an observation. And I do not want to drink your blood.”

06. Gojou/Yuuji: Satoru’s ward is in that peculiar purgatory between puberty and presentation. He tries to help.

Satoru rubs his palm in a slow circle against Yuuji’s stomach, trying for soothing but landing on something that makes Yuuji still and shudder against him. The reaction’s further incentive to slide his hands down, over the hairless skin under his navel and the sparse thatch at his groin, till his fingers find exactly what they expect to find.

Yuuji arches against him with a strangled shout as Satoru’s hand curls around his hard cock.

“Is this,” Satoru asks softly, “what Megumi’s been making you feel?”

“Satoru-san,” Yuuji whines. “That feels—”

“Weird?”

“Yes!”

“Good or bad weird?”

Yuuji’s quiet for a long few seconds. Then— “Not bad.”

“Was it ‘not bad’ with Megumi too?”

“…Kind of. It didn’t feel like this.”

“I’d hope not,” Satoru says, with a laugh that feels like something else in his throat. “If you make cute little Megumi touch you like this, his very scary dad will come for your head. Well, my head. And then I’d have to put him in his place, again, and the Zen'in will get involved, and it’ll be a whole mess. You wouldn’t want that, would you, Yuuji?”

07. Gojou/Yuuji: Satoru learns why most alphas don’t fuck other alphas.

Satoru exhales, shoving his forehead into the pillow to get himself some breathing room. He inhales, slow and deep, and unclenches his muscles in a rippling, gut-swooping wave, right in time for Yuuji to tear into him with the mindless fury of a beast.

His rim burns, a howling hot hurt—

Satoru gasps into the pillow, everything except the corner of his mind devoted to smothering every instinctive attempt at Limitless turning to white static for a brief, burning eternity.

—and gives, screaming the whole time.

Yuuji cleaves him in two, carving a red-hot path through clenching walls and steaming viscera to lodge himself in Satoru’s throat.

He hasn’t. Satoru knows this. It feels like it.

He can’t breathe with it.

Distantly, he’s aware of Yuuji coming inside him, the cock and knot not softening an iota in the process. It’s the size that’s eating him. Yuuji’s cock was big to start with, but his knot is monstrous—an obscene stretch that has set fire to Satoru’s muscles. They clench around it, helpless attempts at pushing it out of him, but his hole has closed up tight behind it, and if Yuuji tries to pull it out again, Satoru will kill him.

08. Higuruma/Yuuji: A wardrobe malfunction drastically alters the aftermath of Yuuji’s fight with Higuruma.

“Itadori,” Higuruma rasps, “put the shirt on.”

“I could.” Yuuji shrugs with a nonchalance he doesn’t feel, dropping the messy hood. “Do you really want me to though?”

Higuruma looks briefly pained. But he’s still looking. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Direct approach then. Not that Yuuji knows anything else, but he usually doesn’t have to use his words, just his body. “Do you want to have sex, Higuruma-san?”

Higuruma gets a little bug-eyed, almost as expressive as he was when yelling at Yuuji about darkness and light and people. “Itadori.”

“I don’t mind,” Yuuji assures him.

“That’s not the—” Higuruma briefly closes his eyes, raising a hand to grind two knuckles into the space between his eyes. “How old are you?”

“Fifteen.”

There’s a low, strangled noise. “Do you usually go around propositioning men over twice your age?”

“Not really,” Yuuji says. It’s mostly true. Half true. “I don’t get it though.”

For a moment, Higuruma almost looks him in the eye. “You don’t get why I wouldn’t want to fuck a child?”

“When you put it like that…” Yuuji takes a testing step forward, and Higuruma tenses but doesn’t move. “You were ready to kill me earlier, right? This can’t be worse.”

09. Gojou/Yuuji: When Yuuji’s fifteen, Gojou Satoru dies; when Yuuji’s seventeen, Gojou Satoru is born.

“Satoru-kun, wake up.”

The tiny lump on the bed doesn’t stir. Yuuji huffs, more amused than anything. Satoru’s antics haven’t really changed over the last four years. He’s gotten less subtle, really. Yuuji knows what he’s like when he’s really asleep—a messy splay of limbs, the thick covers somehow dominated by a body that should be drowning under them instead. Satoru only vanishes under them when he’s trying to lure Yuuji in.

And Yuuji keeps getting lured, so it’s technically his own fault.

“It’s ten in the morning,” he tells the approximate shape of a head. “Last time you messed up your sleep cycle, you were grouchy for a week. C’mon, Satoru-kun.”

Still nothing.

Yuuji sighs and grabs the top of the covers, yanking them down.

Radiant blue glowers at him. “You’re late.”

“Good morning to you too,” Yuuji greets. “And I’m not late. I’m early. I wasn’t due back for another week, remember?”

Satoru’s scowl deepens. On the sharp-faced, painfully pretty adult he’ll undoubtedly grow into, it’ll be a terrifying expression. On this tiny nine-year-old whose face is half white fluff and half curse blue, it’s just adorable. Yuuji wants to pinch his cheeks and coo at him.

10. Sukuna/Yuuji: A bad breakup isn’t a good excuse to fuck the monster rotting your soul, but Yuuji’s made worse decisions—probably.

There’s no change in Sukuna’s expression or posture while Yuuji climbs to him, but his gaze is unwavering, four eyes redder than the blood soaking this realm zeroed in on Yuuji with animal intensity. There’s an answering animal urge inside him—two of them.

Look down, show your belly.

Look back, bare your teeth.

Yuuji chooses the only one he ever could.

A foot stops him, slamming into his midsection before he can touch Sukuna.

“You’re an impertinent fool,” Sukuna drawls. “I should pluck out your eyes.”

“Try me, asshole.”

“And your tongue.” Sukuna’s still smiling, wide and lazy. There’s a terrible tenderness in his tone—hunger made sacred in the worse way Yuuji’s ever witnessed. “Might as well make it a whole feast—split you open from throat to gullet and slurp up your innards, break your bones with my teeth to suck out the marrow of your ribs. You’d make a half-decent meal now. And you’d thank me for it, wouldn’t you?”

“Like hell,” Yuuji snarls, grabbing Sukuna’s ankle.

It responds by sliding down, from his stomach to his groin.

Yuuji freezes.

“The infection just wouldn’t be worth it,” Sukuna says, the lower set of eyes resting on what his foot is touching. “After all, you’re so disgustingly human.”

11. Gojou/Yuuji: When a blip in time lands sixteen-year-old Satoru in the future, he finds himself in possession of a cursed object sporting his own eyes and a grieving boy who can’t look away from those eyes.

“I meant it by the way—you should just eat that box.”

Realization widens Itadori’s eyes, bleeding gracelessly across his scarred face. “What the hell, senpai!”

“What? It’s logical.” Satoru approaches the bed. Itadori’s eyes are fixed on him now, nothing hollow about them anymore. “That Angel person is dead, Tengen-sama’s gone, and none of you have found a way to bust this prison open. You might as well eat it.”

“It’s not a snack box!” Itadori says hotly. “It’s Gojou-sensei! It’s you.”

“Don’t compare me to that fossil. Besides, that’s more reason to do it. You already have one Gojou Satoru, here in the flesh. We might as well get some use out of the box, and it’d be interesting, don’t you think, to see what would become of you if you ate me?”

For a moment, Itadori just stares at him, nearly vibrating with…something. Not anger, not any kind of straightforward upset. But he’s pure emotion from the fire in his eyes to the strength in his fingers.

Then he sucks in a deep breath, slumping in place. “That was a terrible joke, Satoru-senpai.”

“Was it?” Satoru asks mildly. “You could’ve at least laughed. Spare my feelings.”

12. Kenjaku/Yuuji: Yuuji makes reasonable assumptions about the handsome man stalking him. Kenjaku gets to enjoy the fruits of their labor.

Getou’s changed into a thin, loose t-shirt and sweatpants. He’s still toweling his hair, the ends of it dripping wet. That looks like a lot of work.

Yuuji can’t help staring. Getou has such an interesting face. He tries not to focus on the scar stretching across his forehead because he doesn’t want to be rude, but the rest of his features are fair game, right? Especially the hair. It looks different all loose like this, framing Getou’s face in new and striking ways. There are more loose strands, probably the bits usually pulled into the top knot. And it’s still damp, plus mussed from the towel, leaving bits of it clinging to the sides of Getou’s face.

“Do you like the view?” Getou asks.

Yuuji jumps a little, looking back at the city and then at Getou again. “Y-yeah. It’s great.”

A faint smile, very sharp for something that looks so soft. “Come inside and close the door. You’re letting the AC out.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“I was thinking about what to do with you,” Getou says while Yuuji closes the balcony doors, and when he turns around, Getou’s seated on the bed, one leg folded under him so that he’s half turned toward Yuuji. “And then I realized I should just ask you. What do you want, Yuuji?”

13. Gojou/Yuuji: In a faraway forest enclosed in Brahmic barriers, there’s a boy who loves and hates the world in equal measure.

“You’ve grown so demanding,” Satoru says, keeping his hands firmly tucked in his pockets despite the siren call of Yuuji’s wet skin. The eyes are a better deterrent than his own self-restraint. Mismatched from all angles—the primary pair red on the left and brown on the right, the secondary pair brown on the left and red on the right. It’s as if they decided during their unholy apotheosis that no one would have the luxury of pretense.

“Satoru,” says the mouth that once called him Gojou-sensei, called him Six Eyes, “I missed you.”

Something inside Satoru shudders, a prickling disruption like ice melting. His hands twitch free of the pockets, and his body sways forward, melting into an embrace that’s returned with possessive fervor, four palms sliding over him with enough fervid force to brand him through the thick layers of his uniform before settling on his back, clasping him close to a body that seems to burn with its own inner fire.

“Yuuji,” Satoru murmurs, a question and an invitation.

Yuuji leans in with heavy-lidded eyes and sinks his teeth into Satoru’s throat.

14. Gojou/Yuuji: Yuuji’s hormones battle his morals while his half-naked teacher sleeps on his lap.

All Gojou’s got on is a pair of boxers, and they’re loose enough that they’ve slid down to bunch up at the crease of his thighs.

You’d think it’s getting hotter, not colder, but Yuuji can’t exactly complain. He’s the one trespassing on Gojou’s time and home, and it’s none of his business how Gojou dresses in his downtime. It’s not like he isn’t enjoying the view either. It’s just very hard not to touch sometimes. Yuuji keeps catching himself staring at pink nipples and shapely pecs and chiseled abs and even at places further down, like the telltale bulge between his legs and the obscene thickness of his thighs.

He won’t do anything though. He wouldn’t betray Gojou’s trust like that. It’s flattering, really, that Gojou’s so comfortable with him. Yuuji wouldn’t ever—

Gojou makes a soft, huffing noise and rolls over, curling his very long body into a fetal position—

“Shit,” Yuuji rasps.

—and pushing his face into Yuuji’s dick.

It throbs, ten times more vicious than the dull ache till now.

This can’t be happening.

Gojou breathes out, hot air skewering Yuuji’s cock through his sweats.

It’s absolutely happening.

15. Gojou/Megumi/Yuuji: Satoru crashes his student’s private time, and then the number of students in the equation doubles.

“Are you going to fight?”

“Stop it.” This can’t be happening. “You can’t do this, stop it—”

“Or scream,” Gojou suggests, brightening perversely. “Yuuji would run to your rescue. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Megumi opens his mouth, and then those words slam into him.

Itadori would come running. He’d break through that door like it’s made of straw and see this grotesque tableau. And Itadori’s a noble fool; he wouldn’t run from Gojou, only to him, and nothing about Gojou’s serrated smile says that will end well for Itadori.

Gojou likes Itadori. Megumi knows that. Everyone in the school, even the higher-ups, knows that. But that doesn’t mean Itadori’s safe. Gojou caring hasn’t made anyone safe, ever. Megumi would know.

“Don’t,” he says; it comes out soft, barely a breath. “Don’t you dare touch him.”

“That’s a hefty demand,” Gojou says, cocking his head to the side. “What should I touch instead? You?”

Megumi screws his eyes shut. “Don’t.”

The hand on his wrist loosens, a thumb stroking over his pulse. “Don’t be so scared. It’s not like I’ll do anything you don’t want. I did interrupt, didn’t I? I’ll make it up to you.”

[fantasy-mixtapes]

Riz Gukgak Season 1 Playlist Breakdown

Yeah so I really quickly posted my Character playlists to get them out there asap but god I put sooooo much thought into them and I love them so much so I want to talk about each song so you can take a peek into my brain and see what the worms have been cooking. I'll make like a masterlist with links and stuff once I get more out but yeah this one's going first because I decided to go table order right to left.

For all my playlists I choose songs based on a bunch of criteria which is but is not limited to :

vibe

whether I think the character would like the song/artist

whether I can picture the song playing in the background

If the lyrics match up to a specific scene or feeling

if, when put together the general character arc can be reflected in the playlist

if the songs cohesively go together (i.e. similar vibes, genres, themes)

For Riz, the playlist consists of a mix of Alt Rock, 80s/90s, Math Rock, and Punk/Grunge. Here's the playlist if you haven't listened to it

Without further ado... Lets get into it

1. Happy to Hide, Pile of Love

Smiling between my teeth Acting up accordingly Why do I waste my time performing? I don't see the comedy you see In all the scenes involving me As if I wasn't dull and boring I'm happy to hide I'm happy to leave with no goodbye Would you believe me if I said I couldn't cry?

I wanted to start with the classic early 2000s "I'm a nerd in high school" movie song. I can picture this at the start of a movie starring Riz, where he gets to school and gives out his business cards, and it's Not Working, and he doesn't understand why. I also love the way that being "happy to hide" works with his rogue class :)

2. We Are Detectives, Thompson Twins

Someone is on our tail We think they're openin' up our mornin' mail (Whoa) And now each time the telephone rings We think of frightening things We are detective We are selective We are detective Come to collect

This song is so fun and so camp, very 80s alt, I think Riz would love it. I also think it kind of shows how while Riz is definitely extremely serious about the Missing Maiden Case, he is also playing out one of his biggest fantasies and is a high schooler snooping around corners.

3. Daysleeper, R.E.M.

I see today with a newsprint fray My night is colored headache gray Don't wake me with so much The ocean machine is set to nine I'll squeeze into heaven and Valentine My bed is pulling me, gravity Daysleeper

We love our insomniac little guy

4. Cops and Robbers, The Hoosiers

Got your revolution, now you're waging war again Marching on the spot when you should have made amends You say you fight for us, cross your heart and hope to die You're a bully in the playground and we'll hang you out to dry Blame Simon 'cause he said You've got two lives down and one life left Blame Simon 'cause he said You could think better with a hole in your head

Listening to The Hoosiers brings me back to my high school days. This song for me really gets at the change in tone that the "mystery" goes through, specifically with Riz and his relationship with Biz Glitterdew. The way the song kind of starts out as a fun kitchy romp and then devolves into a screeching violent swirl really shows how out of everyone, even though Riz was probably the closest with Biz at the start, he was definitly the one ready and willing to hold him violently accountable for his actions. Riz shows you how to deal with violent incels.

5. Big Sea, Crash Of Rhinos

We'll stand trial, our will won't be broken Your mistake is not that you care, it's that you don't notice Our favorite part is not how this ends It's just how its starts And just that it starts I'll paint you from my memory

I do think that Riz would absolutely love math rock and I do not mind going to jail for that opinion (because every guy that I've met that likes math rock has been proven to be not great - but I'm holding out). Either way, do you guys remember how they literally were in jail for months. Like Riz "son of a cop (at the time)" "The Ball" Gukgak spent several months in jail not being able to do anything but ruminate on the case, what he could have done differently, and what could be happening without them present. Yikes.

6. Black Dragon Fighting Society, My Chemical Romance

Yeah, I drink juice when I'm killing 'cause it's fucking delicious ... Switing out my style bring a friend out with Better grab your soul from the fingers of death I got a medical emergency A medical emergency We got a medical emergency A medical emergency (Mayday, they call the shots, yeah)

This is the type of song that you play during a full throttle drag out feral goblin fight, and its' the song that Riz deserves to end the season with, since he and his mom ate the fucking dragon that killed his dad. Hell yeah.

[lemonhemlock]

You have a point about Driftmark’s writing, because to this day I’m baffled at people not finding Alicent’s anger valid, I can’t blame that on the writing. What I can blame the writing and the framing for besides the “Aemond stole Vhagar” thing is the “But now they see you as you are” *mic drop* moment, and the scene where Rhaenyra gets her stitches, meanwhile Aemond was literally blinded and that’s barely given any attention and ends with “but I gained a dragon so it’s fair” when it would’ve been fair only if it was Vhagar who took out his eye. Like again, I understand that Aemond was de-escalating the situation, but I do think it was purposefully framed as if that was the truth of it (especially seeing as the stealing comments never get corrected)

you see, when i first saw the scene, i interpreted alicent's speech to rhaenyra as being pretty explicit - "you do whatever the hell you want all the time (i.e. even have children out of wedlock with no consequences), you are so privileged that nothing is off limits for you and you even feel entitled to maiming my son like it's your birthright, you care about no one other than yourself while the rest of us have to play by the rulebook". i would say it's a pretty accurate dressing down of rhaenyra, to which she had a projecting reply - "now they see you as you truly are" - supposedly violent and cruel for demanding luke's eye in return, when a couple of minutes ago, rhaenyra was asking for her little brother to be tortured. not to mention that rhaenyra was actually the socially & legally transgressive one with skeletons in her closet

and i have to say that even emma d'arcy sided with alicent in this scene in interviews and didn't seem to think rhaenyra had the right of it. i think that if team discourse hadn't degenerated so much, people would have been able to VAR replay the scene and accept that rhaenyra should have been carded. but the stan-ification of hotd has left many with worms for brains.

that being said, i think the main issue is NOT clarifying that dragons cannot be stolen - a mistake in an otherwise solid episode. the dialogue should have made clear that aemond was within his rights to shoot his shot at claiming vhagar AND that it was the right decision bc vhagar accepted him (if VHAGAR didn't have a problem with it, why should anyone else? that's how dragons work, they are not pets). it would have been a welcome addition because the public are not 100% familiar with asoiaf dragon lore, so it's basically a piece of exposition that's missing. so if another character is shown on screen claiming it's theft AND they're not ever corrected or challenged in any way, then our brains automatically assume that's the correct assessment bc that's how the medium of storytelling in film works. so if the viewers got that extra information - that aemond was jumped by 4 other kids and maimed basically for shit talking - then they would have been more primed to see through rhaenyra's bullshit.

as for the scene with rhaenyra receiving stitches, perhaps that could have been balanced with one of aemond being comforted by someone, congratulated for gaining a dragon and reassured that what happened to him was not justified. i hesitate to add more, bc i do feel like there's a point where you can make things too explicit and you should trust your audience to piece 2 and 2 together without spoonfeeding them everything. rhaenyra should be allowed to be hypocritical on screen without big red signs pointing at her. the problem is more of an accumulation, not necessarily in this episode, but overall throughout the season. too many of her bullshit statements go unchallenged. once in a while, someone should pop up to contradict her or at least have passers-by give her the side-eye or something. (maybe in season 2? hopefully)

for example, a cool retort after rhaenyra said she was wandering bc she couldn't sleep would have been for someone to say that she and daemon arrived at the same time because they must have both been mourning laena together. thus, you bring back to the forefront of the audience's mind that team black can't be arguing that aemond disrespected laena's memory when daemyra are out there fucking on her grave. is it absolutely necessary? no, i think viewers should have arrived to that conclusion on their own, but apparently a large chunk of them are incapable. at the end of the day, you can't solve everyone's media comprehension problems, you can just try to make good art and hope for the best. however, i would include such a comment at least in later episodes, bc it's too good of an objection to let go

[bogkeep]

the post i intended to write:

[flirting] hey wanna watch princess mononoke with me

what i intended to write in the tags but is long enough to become its own essay:

howls moving castle is a transgender comfort movie for sure and spirited away is absolutely a classic but princess mononoke is My ghibli movie. i saw it for the first time as a single digit age child when the czech dub played on TV and i was probably too young for it, but because Animated Movie = Kid's Movie i ended up absorbing the most violent animated movie i had ever seen and i think it permanently changed my brain chemistry and i regret nothing, i was so deeply enamored with the large forest and its godly beasts, i was entrenched in the narrative of the curse that slowly swallows you up, and of course san was the coolest character i had ever seen in my entire short life and i had several OCs inspired by her vibe and design and several others ended up with similar face markings, like who out there is immune to feral wolfgirl with Knives? not me that's for certain. none of my friends had seen this movie and over the years i was starting to feel like maybe it didn't exist? how could something that left such a huge impact on me not make a dent in the world around me? does nobody remember the giant wolves and the moss covered forest and all the wriggly curse worms?? BUT THEN i found the dvd in a norwegian cd shop and the norwegian dub was out of sync and it didn't have a norwegian subtitle track so i'd have to watch it with swedish subtitles, which i did many many times, and one time some czech guys were visiting while i was watching and went heeeey it's princess mononoke! good movie!! and i felt tethered to reality again. i keep coming back to this movie and every time i understand it a little more, because of course a small child such as myself wouldn't understand much of the plot beyond Angy Wolf Girl Go Grrrrrr, and the more i watch it the more i find myself relating to ashitaka even though he didn't make as much of an impression on me as Cool Wolf Princess did the first time, and the world is cursed but we find reasons to keep living, and i know the "i'll slit your throat" "you're beautiful" scene is Iconic but almost every screenshot or redraw or gifset leaves out how san drops the knife and recoils as if the vulnerability of the confession will burn her, and maybe it's just very easy to Get me with two outcasts who can't fit in fully anywhere anymore find eachother storyline but yeah anyway i rewatched this movie the other day and it's still really good

[fanaticsnail]

oh man. oh man, oh man, oh man. it's remisloves again. i know you have a long list of wips… b u t. your praise platonic kid fic did a thing to me in my brain alsdkjlkgfdj if you've got time. and the inspiration. could i request a gn!reader x kid fic where he discovers, by accident, that actually he really likes being praised by reader. like, Really Likes. and starts doing shit just to get praise. or bratting out when he *doesn't* get anticipated praise. knowingly or unknowingly. and doesn't realise it's the start of a massive crush the drowns him. while his crew is just watching the whole thing devolve from the sidelines. I… do have a song that's springing to mind for this, though I don't know how helpful it'll be since it's not in English. Love Trap Muchuu by MAISONdes. or possibly I Love You by Mahiru from Milgram? Trigger warning on that one though, and it's lessss on point but still. anyway, i'm rambling! sorry! again, you don't have to, since you technically already did write something like this but. my god. I had to ask asdlkjglkfdjgk. either way- thank you for all the amazing writing you've done so far!! i look forward to seeing everything you put out next!

Okay, though, @remisloves. My WIP list is incredibly long, but I love this though.

That little brain worm had been eating at me for a while: Beckman's partner doting on the poor baby (absolutely not a baby, but adores being doted on and treated as such) 💀. Beckman x spouse!reader video here:

(video link, courtesy of @carrotsunshine)

I never thought how much fun it would be to praise a big, hulking, violent, intimidating character until I started writing it for him. Eustass Kid is literally so fun to write for, and I have kept your other request in my ask-box so it reminds me to get it done.

Rest assured, I would absolutely love to have you praise him again - and he will absolutely be begging and bratting to get more of it from you.

He's a good boy. He can keep being a good boy, especially if you tell him as such 😏

[3mutantsinatrenchcoat]

Alright alright alright I hear ya I hear ya

So as most or the closest of y'all know I love apocalypse stuff

If that wasn't apparent by the earthquake rumbles, their memories or 3 mutants au I also enjoy the last of us and infection mlp aus a great deal.

Anyone who knows me knows my brain worms for infections are massive so I was working on a TMNT one

So I guess I'll spill how this is so far

DONATELLOOO

Status: uninfected

He caught the infection early on with his cameras hidden across the city, he questioned it but seeing how violent it was he called for his brothers to come back home, shortly after the only ones that had power in the city were the lair and the nearby hospitals feeding off his electricity

He is under high stress and is doing his best to work with Leo to find a cure

LEEEOOOOO

Status: uninfected

Leo was asleep at the lair when the outbreak started, he hadn't been sleeping well enough to go out on missions and especially being on top of buildings after Draxum threw him off one.

He quickly let Donnie know he was at the lair and helped get in touch with their brothers who were still out and about.

He works with Donnie on finding a cure and helps out at the hospital with April and her mom.

RAPH

Status: injured

Raph was out with Mikey when the infection started, or well when it got too bad. Being the kind heart he was both him and Mikey tried to get as many survivors as possible up to the rooftops and to police baracades.

Raph watched as Mikey struggled to escape when hordes got too much and became his shield, resulting in the two being caged in under a building

Status: missing for 2 weeks

MIKEY

Status: unknown

Mikey wanted to go see some new graffiti out in the city while on a mission with Raph, resulting in them being late to coming home and running into the hordes.

Mikey spent most of his rescuing going in and out of buildings, pulling people from their apartments as he heard their screams. He gave up his gear for kids and teens that were seperated from groups to help them get back but in result put him in more danger and he froze up, leading to Raph rushing in to save him and the two crashing into a building

Status: missing for two weeks