#//much better than eating raw meat all the time :')

[gloryundimmed]

@unladielike from here

Hearing that he gave Vivian dog person vibes made sense, but was a bit of a shock. How could she tell he was canine-inclined? Was it something he said or did? Even after living in the human world for a while, it was still difficult to mask the fact that he wasn't human. Had she picked up on it? Maybe he had forgotten to remove the wolf fur that shed on his uniform one morning.

"Oh...? That's funny. Well, you're not wrong," he shrugged, trying to keep himself from seeming too suspicious. More than anything, he was glad to have a change of subject when he went to grab the book. He wasn't exactly the best liar.

Whatever worries he had were quickly erased by Vivian's genuine happiness when he handed her the book. Someone like her couldn't possibly be a threat to him or his pack, right? Hiro was easily caught up in the joyous moment and smiled along with her. "No problem! I'm glad it didn't take too long to come in. Sometimes those manga venders take a while."

But what really excited him about their interaction was the offer to join her for dorayaki. As always, anything food related piqued his interest. "Of course, I'd love to!" He beamed back at her, scrambling to pull up the employee hours on his phone. "Hmm, looks like I'm off in about an hour an a half. I know that's a long time, but you're welcome to browse or read whatever you'd like while you wait! Is that okay?"

[ms-demeanor]

Hey also you know that post about getting better at cooking and handling meat and stuff?

Meat is really expensive and it goes bad pretty quickly.

If you're a new cook and you're trying to figure out how to pan-fry something so that it tastes good, might I recommend tofu?

I'm not saying "treat tofu like meat and try to replace all your favorite meat dishes with tofu" (though, I mean, if that sounds good - go for it), I'm saying "it's a lot easier to practice heating a pan and flipping objects in a pan for a meal and seasoning objects in a pan when the objects in the pan cost two dollars instead of ten dollars."

Tofu lasts a lot longer in the fridge than meat does, is easy to season, and you can easily learn how to pan-fry it into a tasty snack (or main course) and only requires a little extra prep. You can also pretend that the tofu is raw meat (the texture isn't dissimilar) and start practicing for things like how to take it out of a package or cut it on a sanitizable surface, etc.

My favorite way to cook tofu is to press extra firm tofu for at least half an hour (you can get a cheap tofu press for around ten dollars, or you can put it between two plates with some books on the top plate - this is that extra prep i was talking about - tofu cooks best if you press the excess water out), then slice a 14oz cake of it into 8 slices. I lay these flat and sprinkle cayenne pepper, mushroom powder, and smoked paprika on all of the slices, then I rub it in and flip the slices and season the other side the same way. I cook it in a frying pan with a thin layer of avocado or olive oil over medium heat, flipping every two minutes until the flat sides start to crisp up a little. Just before the last flip I add about a tablespoon of tamari sauce (you can use soy sauce, I've just got allergies) to the pan, sprinkling it over the tofu so that both sides get a little bit of sauce on them.

I have that with steamed vegetables and with jasmine rice (with two teaspoons of rice wine vinegar per 3 cups of dry rice and 4.5 cups of water). I also make a honey-siracha-mayo sauce that I dip the tofu in.

It's really good. And now I end up eating leftover rice and sauce with fried eggs for lunch at least two days a week and that's also really good.

This has become one of my go-to low spoon foods because it's so easy to make, it's filling, it tastes good to me, and it has become extremely easy for me to keep a stock of tofu in the fridge compared to the effort of keeping un-expired meat in the fridge.

I find that a 14oz pack of tofu feeds two adults for one meal, though I can stretch that to three meals if I'm the only one eating.

It makes a very cheap, filling, easy dinner that I can keep the ingredients around for without too much concern for food waste or anything going bad (the tofu that I get lasts about a month in the fridge and these days I just buy three packs every time I'm at aldi and cycle in new stock - it costs $1.50 per pack)

If you're interested in becoming a better cook, rather than worrying about actual high-risk products like raw chicken that can be seriously dangerous and also cost a fair amount, tofu has a pretty low barrier to entry while also being a good way to learn on a new ingredient that has some similar properties to raw meat.

[paradlselost]

. ⋮ ULTRAVIOLENCE .ᐟ ֹ

doctor phosphorus x female reader

⎨ 𝐀𝐍 ⎬ fun fact i’ve wanted to eat uranium for a long time so he is the worlds most perfect man to me . also sorry for not writing anything in so long , i’ve been busy and jumping from hyperfixation to hyperfixation for a while now as you can see by my unfinished mouthwashing fanfics . but i watched the show last night and he is my favorite and there’s almost nothing about him so i had to . enjoy !

⎨ 𝐂𝐖 ⎬ monster ! reader , mentions of body dysmorphia and imposter syndrome / depersonalization , religious trauma + blasphemy ( cause i can’t help myself ) specifically in catholicism , catholic rituals , depictions of eating raw meat , depictions of wounds , hurt / comfort , depictions of cannibalism , described body horror . smut : fire / burning kink , dry humping , fingering , male moans ( yay ! ) .

3 . 1 k words ++ not beta read .

PART TWO OUT NOW : CINNAMON GIRL

Eyes flutter closed, allowing darkness to wash over you. Soft sounds of birds chirping fill the room around you, drowning out the constant humming of the chip in the back of your neck. You’re hyper aware of everything, the fabric of the blanket that covers you and the cold air that stings your nose as you breath in; chest rising and falling in rhythm.

You remember how reluctant the guards that watched over you were to allow you the sounds you so desperately needed to sleep, not believing your pleas to quiet your constantly racing mind. Nearly a week without rest made them understand rather quickly, when, despite the power dampener locked around your neck, talons began to grow out of your hands and your spine contorted with the growing of fleshy wings.

It seems you’ve been blessed, something has gone right for once in your life as you’re now able to change the sounds to whatever you wish instead of the constant rushing of waves. Secretly, you’re happy to have been put on this mission. Grateful, even, as much as you could be to a monster like Waller. Perhaps you could even forgive her for the electrocution you’d been put through.

Weasel kips at the foot of your bed, stuck to your side since the day you had snapped at him: barred your fangs and shoved him away from you. Something about the beast had been so pathetic that you ended up apologizing and giving a hesitant scratch to the back of his ears. He’s good company, loyal if not a bit of a flea concern, and he listens when you speak to him unlike many of the others in the special containment of Belle Reave.

Nina was kind, as well, perhaps a bit out of her element, though. You’d once tried to make small talk with GI but that ended as quickly as it had started with his sudden interrogation on if you were a Nazi. And god, you wouldn’t dare bring anything up to the others.

Crickets chirped through the headphones you had been allowed to wear, owls hooting and birds calling. A forest at night, a beautiful scene you were sure you wouldn’t be able to see freely again, but you do not indulge in those negative thoughts. You can already feel it looming over you, exhaustion and stress mingling to bring it out. The thing that stirrs inside you, monstrous and ugly. Its hungry, and you know better than to ignore that hunger lest the Weasel that kips at the foot of your bed be more than a scrap of fur.

So, you stirr. Sitting up in the bed you remove your headphones and push the blanket from your form quietly as to not disturb him. He’s almost cute when he sleeps, like a crusty old dog that resembles more of a tattered blanket than a pet. Regardless, you close the door quietly behind you and walk down the long winding hallways of the palace. Truthfully, you had never been anywhere quite as lavish, never had a king sized bed all to yourself or a private bathroom. Its almost too big, especially at night when the shadows dance up the walls and cast an ominous glare over just about everything.

You know better than to gaze at your shadow as you pass the large walls with royal family portraits. Unworthy, unrighteous, evil. The rosary marks still pierce your skin, forced to pray this thing away day and night till your palms and knees bled. You’ve grown resentful towards the being that shares your body. It makes demands of you, to feast, a single slip can give way and allow it to control you. Some kind of devil, the reason you’re here in the first place.

Your mouth had begun to hurt in your search for the kitchen, gums beginning to bleed and pool against the base of your tongue.. You’d have thought you’d be used to this by now, that your world wouldn’t continue to be turned upside down, that the Lord’s Prayer wouldn’t recite involuntarily in your mind as it all starts over again. You stumble over your own two feet, finding yourself silently wishing you had that power dampener around your neck once again. Your stomach rumbles more.

It feels like an eternity till you finally find the kitchen, thankful that all the servants had retired for the night so you can spit your mouthful of blood into the sink. Crimson stains the marble, dripping from your chin as you turn on the faucet to wash your mouth of the taste. Your fangs had grown in now, taking space in front of your canines and piercing uncomfortably against your bottom lip whenever you close your mouth. Hunger gnaws at your stomach as if beginning to consume the lining itself.

You throw open the fridge door with little care of the noise it makes as it slams into the counter beside it. Eyes scour for something, anything, till you land on a large, raw goose marinating for tomorrow nights feast. Shaky hands reach out to grab it, allowing the glass tray it sits in to fall to the ground and shatter. The shards prick at your bare feet, cutting and marring your skin with more blood, though you don’t seem to notice.

Fangs sink into the bird, soft flesh breaking at the intrusion. The taste is almost euphoric, never had you tasted a meat so rich and fatty; your body had gotten far too used to the awful prison food they served in containment. You rip out a large chunk; tendons harshly snapping from the body as you swallow nearly without chewing. Your eyes gloss over as you devour the bird, reaching in to grab at the sausage links that had also been waiting to be cooked the next day.

You hadn’t realized how much you had truly lost yourself till a harsh green glow halted your feast. Head whipping around to greet the skeletal face of Phosphorus, a hiss falling from your lips that still wrapped around a chunk of meat like a food insecure cat. He was your least favorite of all, acting as if he knew everything simply because he had been a doctor before his incident. Not like it mattered in Belle Reave, and certainly not in the monster sector they were kept in.

“Woah. Calm down, I’m not takin’ that from you.” A huff came from him, head tilted to the side as he watched you, almost intrigued with the way you acted. He simply stepped past you, walking over to the sink and simply staring down at the blood that had graced the basin. “This yours?”

The link fell from your mouth, rolling into the shards of glass and crimson as the fangs retracted back into your gums, eyes returning to normal. All you could do was stare at him, as if he had asked the most stupid question in the world. Smartest man in the room your ass.

“Who else’s would it be?”

“Don’t know, thats why I’m asking. Flag and I got into a fight earlier and I totally won, so I’m just wondering.”

“Oh.”

He leans back against the countertop, facing you now, the sleeves of his hoodie protecting him from burning through the granite. Part of him had always intrigued you, in a way, everyone but Weasel had a signature outfit; but him? A hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. It was almost comical how simple he was, though you supposed there wasnt much he could keep. A step towards him, wincing at the sudden realization of what you had done.

His gaze followed yours, looking down to the glass and blood that gushed from your feet and ankles. The light from the fridge and his green glow illuminated the space between you two, dancing off the shards on the floor. Your mouth was covered as well, sloppily wiped onto your cheeks as you had feasted. God, you looked a mess, but the pain distracted you from that fact. Biting your bottom lip to muffle a pathetic whimper of pain.

“Cmon don’t cry, what’s a little glass among friends?”

“I am not crying.”

If he had eyes to roll no doubt he would’ve. Stepping over to you and hooking an arm around your shoulder to help you stand without any warning. Your first instinct is to fight him off, to tell him no and shout at him, but you don’t. Instead, you lean into the touch and allow him to help you hobble up the stairs to, what you originally assume to be your room, but soon discover he’s guiding you into his, and then, into his bathroom.

Theres something almost intimate about the way he grabs your hips to help you onto the counter so he can patch you up. You hadn’t asked this from him, but it didn’t seem to matter much now as he filled a bucket with warm soapy water, dunking a rag in a few times and using the help of tweezers to pick the glass out of your skin. You do your best not to flinch, using the time to preoccupy yourself with washing off the blood from your face.

John 13. You detest the thought, Belle Reave had ripped every ounce of belief from your body, but the ceremonies and rituals of your youth had not quite left your mind, and the intimacy of the moment didn’t help. Silence filled the room, the only noises being the soft sounds of the wash cloth being dunked into the water and squeezed out. You’d seen it before, a relatives wedding, the washing of the feet ceremony. It’s meant to be intimate, to be between spouses, to show commitment and love just as Jesus had to his disciples. You feel far more like Judas, however, with the monster that festers inside you.

“So. What was that?” His voice snaps you from your thoughts, eyes fluttering down to look at him, hesitating at his question. You don’t have a good answer, not one that wraps everything up into a neat bow at the least. Just what you know, which isn’t much.

“It’s the reason I’m classified as a monster. Theres… something that lives inside me, a devil of sorts I was always told. It’s been there for as long as I can remember, its why I had to wear the collar back in confinement. It starts to creep out whenever I slip, get too comfortable or let my guard down.” You’re quiet, not wanting to break the softness of this encounter. “I’m sorry you had to see it.”

“You don’t have to apologize. We’re all freaks, its the whole point of this task force.”

“I guess. I’m still sorry.”

A huff comes from Phosphorus as he grabs a clean washcloth, dunking it in fresh water and reaching up to wipe off some of the blood that you had missed, that still marrs your mouth and flesh. He’s close, now, very much so. He smells of sulfur, though it does not cause you to recoil or scrunch your nose; its a scent you’ve grown accustomed to with the monster that shares your body. Can a skeleton be attractive? Is that possible?

You lean into the feeling of the warm washcloth against your cheek; having been so long since someone had touched you. Before you had been arrested you indulged in sin, lust, it had engulfed your body and it wasn’t a feeling you ever wanted to encounter again. How it could consume your entire being, give control over to someone other than yourself. It’s a fine line for you, but you feel the distantly familiar feeling of butterflies flutter in your stomach at the proximity of him.

You feel sick; like bile will creep up your throat any moment, but it doesn’t feel bad. Not with how he lets the cloth be a barrier between the two of you, between his hands that will burn your body at his touch. You’d welcome it, to let him cauterize your wounds and fix you. Your hands creep up to wrap around the back of his neck, protected by the hood of his sweater as you pull him closer. He’s warm, comfortable.

“I don’t like you apologizing, you look like a kicked puppy.”

“You’re smiling, though.”

“Can’t help it, I’m a skeleton, doll.”

His voice is a giveaway, though, possibly the most upbeat you had heard him despite the quiet and intimate nature of the room. You feel it, the radiating warmth from his other hand creeping down to your thigh, rubbing soft, soothing circles against the fabric that protects your skin from his touch. It would hurt, but a part of you almost welcomes it, wants to feel it.

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth, eyes focused on the hand that slowly crept higher from your thigh. He’s close, his heat rivaling that at your core. You miss the way his head tilts to the side at your demeanor, hands grasping and releasing the fabric of his hoodie over and over.

Phosphorus said nothing as he continued to wipe some of the blood from your mouth, lingering over your bottom lip while his other hand becomes preoccupied with cupping you over your pajama pants, skeletal fingers pressing in to give you some friction.

That nausea you had felt earlier returns tenfold, punishing yourself for feeling anything remotely good. The situation reminds you far too much of the last time, dipping too far into bliss. It seemed you had only blinked when the body of the lover you had found for the night was strewn across the room, spitting half eaten entrails out of your maw. He guides you to lean back against the mirror, your hand clasping over your mouth to muffle your sounds as he slips below the fabric of your nightwear.

You can feel it again, the hunger that rises to your chest. Your hands shake against your skin now, nailbeds aching with the growing of your talons. A whimper, squeezing your eyes shut. You are selfish, greedy. You’d rather relish in this than warn him, to have one moment that allows you to feel human, to feel wanted and loved.

A sudden burning feeling rips you from your thoughts, your hand had been removed from its post over your mouth and was held in his. Tears well in your eyes at the feeling, the searing pain that washed over your body and forces you to see white. It aches, branding you.

“Shit.” Is all that falls from his mouth, moving his hand away before you needily grasp it once more. Intertwining your fingers, keeping him there. The pain had forced the monster away, talons no longer threatening to protrude from your nailbeds and spine ceasing its contorting. You are lucky, graced with an opportunity to feel something beneath the endless pit in your stomach. To feel him.

“Don’t stop.” Your breathless words are more than enough to encourage his continuation, slotting himself between you legs and pressing the suddenly tight fabric of his sweatpants against you. A soft sigh falling from your lips, head tilted back, hair fluffing up on the mirror as he began to rock against you.

“I wont.” Slow, at first, as if testing the waters to gauge your reaction. Soft whines emitting from somewhere behind the skeletal teeth that were on display for you. Your hand scrunches up his hoodie, dragging his chest closer to you as he began to pick up the pace.

Needy and pathetic, his hips grinding rougher against your pajama pants, the tent in his pants catching on your covered clit; pulling a gasp from you as you arched your back. He focused his movements in that spot, up and then down to elicit soft whines and moans from you. Matching his neediness, having been touched starved for so long.

You’d grown up with depictions of heaven, imaginary white fluffy clouds somewhere high above the Earth. But here, right now, you’re more than convinced this is paradise. Rough fabrics rocking against each other, keeping you grounded on the countertop you sit on, the mirror behind you beginning to fog up with your heavy breathing. Your hands still intertwined, the harsh stinging drowned out at the near bliss you faced.

Hes sloppy now, nearing his finish far faster than you despite your state. Harsh whines fall from him as he grinds against you a few more times before panting and leaning against you. He’s winded for a moment, catching his breath, though the hand not holding yours travels back down to rub against your core.

Hes rough, guiding you to gush around nothing. You can feel your heartbeat below, drumming uncomfortably as you bury your face in the neck of his hoodie. His hand slips below your pajamas once more, continuing to tease your swollen clit and soaked folds as tears pricked at your eyes, squeezing his hand to single for him to stop.

Within a moment, he did. Ceasing the torment though not removing his hand from under your pants. Allowing your juices to pool against the cotton of your underwear before guiding his hand lower, placing his palm flat against your thigh and removing his other hand from yours. It stings, the cleansing fire emitting from him, your hand already burned as he brands your thigh with his handprint.

“Perhaps we should act like this didn’t happen… I’m sure it would make being on a team awkward.”

“I-... Yeah. Agreed. I should, um, head to bed.” Awkward you lift yourself from the counter and fix your pajama pants, slipping off the granite and setting against the cold tile floor. Your feet still hurt, though not nearly as bad as they had hurt before and surely nothing in comparison to the feeling of him against your skin.

He gives little more than a nod as you slink out the door, stumbling down the hall to find your own room and quickly running a hot bath. It would soothe you, make everything better, you deemed. Stripping to allow yourself to sink into the warmth as a sigh falls from your lips, eyes drawn to the handprint marked on your thigh.

You trace the outline with your finger, over and over almost obsessively and silently cursing him for his words. An asshole, you remembered, your least favorite in the little ragtag team. Though, with the way he had whimpered and moaned against you, you were halfway convinced you may be able to fuck the sarcasm and ill wit out of him.

[tojisth3rdwife]

Part 2

a/n: this one is probably 40% smut parts here. Pregnant sex is the bees knees, speaking from experience. A 💋 will mark where it starts and ends in case you want to skip it. There will definitely be a part 3 lol

BabyDaddyToji was enjoying your pregnancy more than you were.

For starters, and not to be crude but the sex was unmatched. Toji had a thing for cumming inside of you raw before but now?? With the only motivation not to no longer being relevent, there wasnt a day where Toji didnt want to be inside of you.

Granted, he wasnt jumping your bones 24/7. Especially in the beginning. He let you set the tone for that based on your mood. And it was rough in that first trimester. It seemed like as soon as you confirmed the pregnancy , every symptom in the book hit your ass like a mack truck.

You slept majority of the day.

You spent many mornings, afternoons and evenings face down in the toilet.

Your mood was unpredictable, although you did your best not to crash out and frighten Megumi or take it out on Toji.

Even when you did, Toji didnt take it personally.

You’d been snippy with him all night over the smallest things.

He closed the door too loudly when he came in the bedroom, not helping your hormonal headache whatsoever. When he asked you how you were feeling, it was returned with an attitudinal “How the fuck do you think I feel? I cant eat. Im always tired. My back hurts. My head hurts. The dog’s wont stop barking..” you trailed off. Toji approaches where you were now sitting up at the edge of the bed, bent over with your face in your hands.

You were a mess. Your hair. Your skin. You just felt gross and overly emotional, something that was so unlike you. Toji knew it, but unlike you, he at least understood why.

The tears were already flowing by the time he joined you on the bed, reaching for your hands to pull away from your face.

“N-no Toji....” you sniffled, attempting to hide yourself from Toji as he gripped your wrists gently. He smiled as you fought against his strength pointlessly , and he pulls you into him for a hug he knew you needed.

Mind you, Toji was far from perfect. There were plenty of times when he didn’t know how to comfort you or the right thing to say at the right time. But being with you over the years improved his sense of compassion and empathy towards others, meaning you were no exception.

Toji rubbed your lower back, pulling your body as close as he could.

“Im sorry, baby. Seems like today is kicking your ass..” he says with his lips in your messy hair. You chuckle dryly at the sentiment, sniffing back the snot threatening to dribble from your nose.

“Yeah.” You sigh. Toji hums against your crown, slipping his fingers under the elastic waistband of your leggings. Not in a suggestive or sexual manner, just to hold you better. He sat with you for a few seconds in silence before asking you if you wanted him to get out so you could rest.

“No…” you mutter, clutching his t-shirt. You gave in to his embrace and nuzzled his chest, your breath stuttering from the sudden rush of emotions. Toji smirks.

You were so cute when your were stubborn.

In other news…

Your body was gradually changing. Too much in appearance , although your tits were gigantic now, but more in how you felt and responded to your environment.

For starters, nothing tasted or smelled the same, in good and bad ways alike.

The smell of cooking/ grilled meats? ❌

The scent of certain cleaning products and laundry detergents?✅

Megumi’s dogs? (Although you still loved them to pieces) ❌

The sweet and savory combo of pizza and strawberry toaster strudels stacked on top of eachother with the frosting and marinara sauce melding together? ✅

The smell of Toji’s favorite instant ramen? ❌

Eggs? ❌

Yogurt? ❌

Chocolate? ❌

The scent of anything Toji related? His cologne? His after shave? His sweaty shirts straight from the gym? ✅✅✅

But despite all of that, especially once the sickness and exhaustion began to taper out as you entered the 2nd trimester, you were horny.

Like VERY horny, tracking back to the opening statement..

And fuck, Toji loved it.

💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋

He’d barely made it inside after returning from dropping Megumi off at school before your hands were at his belt.

“Whoa..” Toji’s brows shot up as well as his hands when you made quick work of undoing his pants and pulling his dick out. He wasnt even hard yet and he still felt heavy in your hand as you stroked him slowly.

Lips at his neck and your other hand pushing his shirt up, you mumbled against his skin.

“I want you so bad it hurts..”

And it did. The spike in hormones, coupled with the increased blood flow down there made everything feel 10 times more intense. All Toji had to do was kiss you and you felt your inner thighs become slippery against each other from his wet you were. After a simple ‘brb’ smooch on his way out the door to take Megs, your clit was engorged and your gummy walls clenched in need of him.

You tried rubbing one out but you were too frustrated to get yourself there.

You needed release.

You needed him in the worst way.

Toji groaned as your expert touch had his dick jumping and swelling to life with every stroke of your hand.

“Hurts?” He frowns at your choice of words. You paused trying to undress him to take Toji’s hand and guide under your large sleep shirt to cup your sex. You had soaked through the fabric of your panties and just Toji’s touch had your walls pulsing.

“Fuck..” he exhaled,taking the initiative to rub your puffy clothed lips as if to sooth you. But all it did was rile you up even more.

“See?” You whimper and Toji cusses under his breath again.

“Shit, babe…How are you always this fucking wet? Hmm?” He tilts his head, now the one taking the reigns.

“Toji..” your breath hitched, breaking and stalling as the rough pads of his fingers rubbed yiur clothed pussy. His fingers found tiny hill of your clit pressing through your panties and he circles it slowly. You gripped his flexing forearm desperately, breathy moans leaving you as your back collides with the wall adjacent to the front door, with Toji’s height eclipsing you in his shadow. He speeds up his antics, all while pressing his lips to your pulse in a gentle kiss.

By the way you keened in his ear, Toji was sure of one thing.

“Gonna cum right here? Right now?” He asks, strumming his middle and index over your civered clit faster. You nod with you mouth agape, digging your nails into Toji’s arm.

“Yesyesyesyesyesbabyplease..fuck..”

Your knees buckled as the wave of pleasure washed over you, a gush of slick staining the your underwear. Anyone walking by outside definitely heard your cry of ecstasy, but Toji never gave a damn about his neighbors.

“Shit..c’mere” he pulls you towards him by the throat for a sloppy breathless kiss, licking into your mouth and catching every moan off your tongue as he rubs your sensitive folds over your drenched panties.

Without warning, Toji picks you up like you weigh nothing to carry you in the room, tossing you on the bed to fuck the ache out of your pussy until it was damn near time for Megumi to get out of school.

But as you began to show around week 14-15, Toji was more mindful of how he handled your body. You assured him that you could take it and encouraged him to go harder, but it was pointless. He was just too damn big and you seemed way too fragile to be bent in half and pounded the way he used to.

The tenderness was welcomed in exchange though..

As much as you loved your belly, you hated how it blocked your view of Toji eating you out. Watching his tongue glide over your puffy lips and clit made you even wetter and Toji lapped it straight from the source. He groaned at the taste of you. Not that he didnt love your pussy’s flavor before you were pregnant but there was something more intense about it now. Even your scent was more potent and addicting, having him thinking about burrying his face between your legs all damn day.

Toji ate your pussy like his life depended on it, swirling his tongue over the hood of your clit and flicking its underside in the way he knew would make you shake.

“Mmmhmm” he moaned against you, hugging your thighs and caressing your baby bump affectionately.

You’d attempted to crane your neck to get a glimpse of what he was doing in the beginning but now you just surrendered to the fact that you wouldnt be seeing anything down there without a mirror for a while.

That was ok though.

Allowing yourself to focus only on what Toji’s lips and tongue did to you made cumming on his face most enjoyable for the both of you.

💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋

“Are you ready to know the sex?” your doctor asks from behind the monitor. You glance at her in surprise, even though you knew the question was coming.

Toji hated that he couldnt be there and damn near walked out on a job if you hadnt convinced him to stay and focus.

But you really wished he was here.

“Could you write it down and put it in an envelope for me?” you asked, doing your best to keep your gaze from traveling over to the big mounted screen on the wall, and your doctor obliged.

That way when you took it to the bakery and asked them to pipe the corresponding color frosting in a pre made jumbo cupcake, it would be a surprise both you and Toji could share.

Taglist: @queendessi24 , @xllizs, @whoreforjjkmen , @hellokittyloverrxox .

Part 1 <<<<<

Part 3 (soon)

The Fushiguro’s <<<<<

[ashwhowrites]

So I watched Hoard and had to write a little something with it. But of course, Eddie Munson style. More importantly, perv! Eddie Munson style.

Inspired by Hoard, but not a play-by-play of the film. I'll leave the surprises to you. I didn't want to wait a week to post it so here's a bonus read for the day! I hope you give it a read, thank you🫶🏻

Hoard Blurb

Eddie laughed as Y/N lunged at him, easily dodging her as he jumped to the other couch. The sound of Y/N's giggles traveled as she jumped after him.

He groaned when she tackled him, sending both of them to the hard floor. She landed on his back, his stomach flat against the ground. He could hear her laughter dying out, and the slight feeling of her hips shifting. He stayed still when she moved her hips again, and a shuttered moan left her lips.

Y/N was his best friend, a very innocent and pure girl. Her parents kept her closeted to everything, and they'd flip their shit if they ever met Eddie. She was new to everything, fresh meat in high school and Eddie clung to her. Her confused and scared eyes lit a fire inside of him. He could smell the chastity on her and craved to be the one to ruin it.

He felt his pants getting tighter as her hips moved faster and she began moaning. That same fire lit inside his stomach as she moaned louder.

"Angel? What are you doing there?" Eddie asked, a shit-eating grin on his face. He felt her body go still.

"I don't-don't know," she said in heavy pants. Eddie could already picture her naive eyes.

He easily shifted, now on his back as he looked at her. He softly grabbed her hips.

"Did it feel good?" he asked, slowly moving her hips for her.

"Yes," she sighed, feeling that amazing feeling again. She followed his movements and moved her hips the way she was before. It felt better than the other position.

"Yeah? Go a tiny bit faster and it'll feel even better," he edged her on. His eyes rolled back when she planted her hands on his chest and moved her body faster.

He bit his lip as her body really started to get into it. He could tell she was feeling something good from how loud her moans were getting and how much faster her hips moved. She didn't know what she was doing yet she knew what to do.

She was rubbing right against his covered cock, and her hands gripped his shirt. She was making Eddie go crazy, he wanted to tear off her clothes and push his cock inside of her. Not stopping until she was crying and begging him to stop. But he'd never do something so cruel to his soft girl.

He watched with heavy eyes as she trembled. The way her chest heaved as she panted, her mouth wide open as she let out every sound her body forcefully made.

"Eddie I-I" she choked out

"Just keep going, baby. Keep moving," he moaned. Selfishly trapping her hips down and moving her against him. He thought about doing nasty things with her all the time, and this was the closest he ever got. And he was not going to waste a second of it.

He fought with everything in him to keep his eyes open. He didn't want to miss a second of how she looked while she had her first-ever orgasm on top of him.

His eyes glued to her as hers rolled into the back of her head. Her body fell forward, trembling as she gasped for air in his ear. He couldn't help but buck his hips forward. He could feel the wetness from her shorts soaking down on him. He whined as he felt himself cumming with her, a few seconds behind.

He felt nothing but a body as he bucked his hips up and moved her hips. Forcing her poor raw clit to rub against her shorts, making her body get him off, with consent of course. The way she screamed but whimpered for more.

He felt his cock twitch and he came. His warm cum filled his boxers and he flinched at the feeling. He shivered when she landed an unpracticed and wet kiss on his neck, his hands still on her body.

He watched as she moved her hand down to her clit, softly pressing it and hissing.

"Ouch, it hurts, Eddie," she cried, her eyes full of fear

"It's okay. We just don't touch it for a while," he said, leaning in to press soft kisses to her face. "Let's clean up and go to bed, yeah? You were so good for me, I bet that can make you real tired."

She melted into his words, letting him stand back up and pulling her with him. She landed on her soft feet and reached for Eddie's hand. He smiled and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

[cloudcountry]

I just discovered your writing and I love how you write Idia! If requests are open, could you write Idia with an S/O that cooks for him? It's heavily implied that Idia has depression and is very thin do to his lack of self care and malnutrition, but since he started dating he gains some weight and gets a bit insecure about it but reader comforts him because they're just happy that's he's eating healthy

SUMMARY: idia is starting to eat healthier and put on weight, which spawns new insecurities. you help him through it.

COMMENTS: i'm so unhinged about this request please. PLEASE. do not look at me right now im in SHAMBLES. you've saved my life with his request. IVE BEEN THINKING ABOUT IT FOREVER I WROTE THIS IN LIKE 45 MINUTES IM LOSING IT. THIS BAD BOY CAN FIT SO MUCH NON SEXUAL INTIMACY IN IT. CRYING.

In the beginning of your relationship, getting Idia to eat and drink was like pulling teeth. You didn’t want to force it—Idia knew how he felt far better than you, and making him do something he didn’t want to was just cruel. You knew from the start that if he didn’t want to eat, he wouldn’t, and even after consulting Ortho you didn’t notice any changes in his attitude towards eating. You reminded him to drink water constantly and brought him little snacks, but the water bottles remained mostly full and the snacks were unopened. While you managed to coax another few sips of water out of Idia, the snacks were still a no-go and his vitamin drinks won the day once again.

It took until the two of you were second years for him to consider eating more, and you were so delighted that you began to cook for him. Although he still gained most of his nutrients from those vitamin drinks he’d always drink in place of meals, you were so proud of him when he started eating the small portions you’d set out for him. Each container had four sections, one full of dried fruits, one with nuts, one with vegetables, and the last with meat. You always wrote him a note telling him how proud of him you were, encouraging him to eat the whole thing but letting him know he could stop eating whenever. It was more of a snack than anything, but he’d eaten it, the whole thing, and you felt so moved you’d almost cried.

Idia never thought it was that much a deal, even when you started gradually increasing his portion sizes into your third year at NRC, always replying to your praise with bashful mumbles and scoffs, twisting his beautiful hair into knots as a nervous habit. He would finish his snacks and bashfully ask for more, turning his pink cheeks away from you when you’d beam and tell him you’d be on it right away. Noodle dishes were popular, along with sweet chicken recipes, and anything with rice or pasta. You avoided using meats like pork or beef or anything that wasn’t light like poultry. Idia always favored things that went down easy, not hearty meals that left you feeling stuffed (and, of course, you never fed him sushi due to his dislike of raw fish.)

He was drinking more water as the years went on, too—by the time you came to collect his dishes and figure out if he wanted more food or not, you’d catch a glance of a half empty water bottle and feel your heart fluttering in your chest. It made you so happy to see him eating and drinking healthier. Even if he complained about needing to go pee more often (which took out of his gaming time, oh the dramatics) you could tell he felt better. It had been a journey of three years but you and him were making some serious progress together, and you couldn’t be more proud.

To celebrate just how proud of him you were, you’d gotten Idia a small chocolate cake to go with his lunch, and you were delivering it a bit early to surprise him.

Balancing all of the food on one hand, you bounce on the balls of your feet as you punch in the security code to his room (it changed every day and he always texted you the new one, reassuring you that your messages had been encrypted ten times over so nobody could even chip at the defenses, not that you were worried about someone hacking your phone in the first place.) The door opens with its usual mechanical woosh and shuts behind you the second you step inside, immediately locking again.

“Idia, I bought you a gift today!” you cheer, setting the containers down on his bed.

You turn around to face the rest of his room before stopping dead in your tracks, coming face to face with very wide eyed, shirtless Idia. He’s clutching his shirt to his chest, trying to hide as much of him as he possibly can, but the way the fat of his stomach pinches and rolls at his side could still be seen past the fabric. Your mouth forms a small o shape as you stare, taking him in.

“Stop staring!” he yells, and it's only then that you notice the tears in his eyes and the pink borderline red flickers in his flames, “Get out!”

He throws himself into the gamer chair, spinning it enough so that the back of it faces you. You can see him curling up into a little ball, struggling to get his shirt on in the state he’s in.

“Idia, wait!” you call out, stopping him in his tracks.

Soft sniffles fill the room, and it breaks your heart.

“Why are you here early?” he snaps, still not coming out from his hiding place.

“I bought you a miniature cake. You’ve been eating more lately and I’m proud of you for that.” you say softly, sitting down on his bed, “I’m not going to come over there, darling. Don’t worry. This is a safe space, you know? I would never judge you.”

Idia is silent for a few beats before he speaks again.

“Maybe...maybe I should stop eating.” he murmurs, and the pain that shoots through your heart makes you gasp.

“Idia, no.” you plead, gentle even though you’re panicking, “What’s making you feel this way? You’ve been doing so well, you’ve told me how good you’ve been feeling this past year because you’re eating healthier, what changed?”

“I look like this!” he spits out, and there’s so much self loathing in his tone it brings tears to your eyes as well.

“You look beautiful, darling, you always have. What about yourself do you not like?” you plead, hoping and praying he’ll open himself up to you.

“I’ve gained weight. I’m not as skinny anymore. I look gross.” he peeks out from behind his chair and your heart breaks at how bloodshot his eyes are, “I don’t...want you to see me like this and leave me.”

“My love...” you keep his gaze, leaning as close as you can to him without leaving the bed, “I love you no matter what you look like, you know that right? I love you as a person. You will always, always look lovely to me. I love you. I don’t love a perfect version of you I made up in my head. Every single insecurity you have, I love, because they aren’t flaws. They’re just you.”

You let him take your words in, listening to his heavy breaths before you stand up.

“Darling...can I see you?” you ask carefully, “I want to see you.”

He hesitates.

“Promise me you won’t be disappointed.” Idia’s voice cracks mournfully, like he’s already accepted a fate that will never befall him.

“Never.” you answer immediately.

Your breath catches in your throat when he shamefully moves away from his gaming chair, staring at the ground to avoid looking at you. Your heart hits the ceiling with how light it feels, your lungs contracting and your body growing warm. Oh, he’s ethereal.

You take in the parts that he hates—the creases of his neck and his soft pecs (his nipples are blue, you note, and honestly that doesn’t surprise you), the rolls of his stomach and the fiery trial of hair that leads to his pelvis. You take in the blue glow under his arms and the way the fat of his upper arm folds into his shoulder, and his way his stomach hangs a little over the waistband of his pants. You take it how his arms are bigger now, whether that be from growth or the added weight you don’t know, but what you do know is that all of this beauty was hiding under his hoodie for the past three years. Probably even longer.

“You’re beautiful.”

And your voice breaks as a single hand covers your mouth, hearts in your eyes as you finally, finally make eye contact with Idia, his hair sparking and popping like solar flares as the flames turn pink.

You love that pink.

“B...Beautiful!?” Idia jerks back, looking so scared and ashamed and confused, “What are you talking about!? Beautiful is for men in otomes with eight pack abs, I’m no ikemen but I’m not stupid and how could you ever call me something like that—!?”

“Idia Shroud, you’re beautiful!” you shout, your voice far louder than you intended and it cracks again because oh, you’re so emotional, how could this man think he’s anything but beautiful?

“...what?” he whispers, shirt still clenched in his hands like a lifeline, “You...you don’t want to leave me?”

What you want to do is ask why you ever thought he’d leave you in the first place.

What you do instead, is tell him no.

And you stay.

You don’t make an excuse to leave or try to let him down slowly. You stay in his room and you ask to hug him, you stay in his room and you embrace him so tenderly when he says yes, you stay in his room with him and you kiss his temple, holding all of the extra fat he didn’t come with when you fell in love with him in your arms, loving him all the same even though he’s changed.

He doubts you’ve ever called someone beautiful as many times as you’re calling him that right now.

So Idia shuts his eyes and buries his face in your shoulder, hiding his face and his body and his sobs from the rest of the world in the safety of your arms.

You really will love him no matter what.

He doesn’t know what to do.

[materialised]

LUFFY'S HEADCANONS (SFW & NSFW )

: I write these because I can't stand my feelings whenever I see his bright smile in every episode so I gotta express my own thoughts. Honestly I wish I have a boyfriend like him in my life pfft- Like whoever gonna dislike a honest boy like him, right? Oh I love Luffy so much ><

Caution: Minors DO NOT INTERACT. English is not my first language but I hope you guys like this. Oh and it's pretty long, I didn't count at all.

◜⁑✢⁑±⁑✢⁑」

SFW - Oh sure our boy is sweet and lovely.

Luffy, who always greet you with a smile whenever he sees you around and uses his ability of Gomu Gomu to wrap his arms around you tightly.

His love language is skinship. He loves touching you, holding hand while walking together, leaning his chin over your shoulder when you are chatting with Nami and wait until you notice, turn your head then he gonna smile at you so purely.

Ever since he was a kid, he didn't like to take nap so much unless he was extremely tired and need a short nap time to refill his energy but after you two were together, Luffy usually naps with you, Nami and Ussop often saw two of you resting on each other's head while sleeping on the deck. "They look so cute", said Nami.

After Carrot "garchu" Luffy few times before and he remembered that, he's trying that on you, too. Hands around your waist and "garchu" you, nuzzling his cheek against yours playfully while smiling so hard.

Shares his foods with you, whatever he has in front of the table - meat, drinks, sweets,... He's gonna let you take bites and looking at you with a happy face. He loves foods, but he loves you more and happy to make his lovely girlfriend full with foods - that's how he shows his love towards you.

Luffy can eats anything and drinks anything, he wasn't a picky one, but, he loves your hot chocolate you made him. When the weather seems colder than usual, you will take a hint of that and go to the kitchen, making hot chocolates for the crew and Luffy always have the largest cup with lots of marshmallows on top. That's how you show your love in return.

Telling you all of his thoughts, his story, his worries, he trusted so so much because you love him so much. He lets you know the other side of his, his thoughts were his emotions and intelligence.

"I like you (y/n)", "I love you (y/n)", "You're adorable, (y/n)", "This looks so much like you, (y/n)!", and plenty more of love-words he told you. He loves calling you by your real name, "baby", "babe" are also okay but he prefers calling each other by real name better. Not the romance one knows how to talk as if he was writing a poetry but straightforward, short and always success to make your cheeks turn red.

Eyes don't lie. He is like a walking-radar, must say since he can sense your presence real quick and tells the crew that "(Y/n) is here" before you appear.

Loves resting on your thighs, feeling your fingertips brushing his hair down his features.

Luffy loves hearing your heartbeat, your warmth, the softness of your chest against his head, so soft, so tender, so warm, so rapidly same as his heartbeat when he's around you.

He will marry you, wife you up, shower you with his love and affections. He will be the best husband in the world, the best dad ever to you two kids. Your kids gonna be so same as him, big monkey dad with his little monkeys.

"Glad I have you, (y/n)", he mumbled as kissing your lips under the moon in a sleepless night.

NSFW - The more he loves you, the harder he fucks you.

「۰۪۪۫۫●۪۫۰⊰❈☸❈☾۰۪۪۫۫●۪۫۰」

He loves you, he fucks you, he loves you so damn much that those silly and normal skinship aren't enough anymore. He needs to fuck you deep and raw, makes you cum so good, cum several times on his cock. And that's the first thought made his priority SNAPPED.

You always on his mind, no matter what. How many times you appear in his head? Uncountable. Luffy thinking about you day and night, he even uses his imagine and he knows he fucked when you started appeared in his wet dream, lewdest dream he ever had after that long time hitting his own puberty. And he so honest about that, he shared with you without any embarrassment because he trusted you no matter what. And you? Not even mad at your boyfriend, instead you explored the fact that Luffy also have lust and needs.

Inexperienced, indeed, he is still a virgin, he never felt a touch of woman before since he's not interested in those stuffs. Yet, after being in relationship with you, he found himself thinking about sex nonstop.

Masturbate after fight, he has to relieve the stress out.

Luffy eats, sleeps like a baby, which is healthy one so his cum taste good, not bitter, not sour, taste like nothing but the white egg-yolk. However, not masturbate often so his cum really thick. You loves swallowing his cum and he enjoys it, too.

He is a virgin but when its come to a real fuck, he wasn't. He ain't playing like a shy boy who doesn't know what to do, he sees your body as a new island for him to explore inch by inch, every dips and curves on your body, he has to touch them all - the curve of your shoulders, your breasts, your ribcage, your waist, your hips, the swell of your asscheeks and your backside got him swallowed in excitement. You're beautiful, what that's people say? Breathtaking, yeah that's one.

How he touch you for the first time? Luffy's taking his time groping your beasts, rolling your hardened nipples between his slight calloused fingers to see your reaction before move to next place on your body. He didn't think much during it, he lets his primal desire takes the lead of his whole muscles. A soft moan escaped your lips as his warm palm brushing your breasts just bringing his desire closer, getting hard under his jeans for sure. After kissing your waist, he slowly pried your legs open, revealed yourself fully to him.

If Luffy must describe what he was saw, then there is it: your arousal a smearing both your inner thighs; really messy, soft, plumb thighs made him wants to take a bite as if there were two delicious cakes in front of him. Then your private part, puffy wet folds drenched with clear discharge, your small aching clit and your cunthole timidly hiding under the wet folds - leaking. Using his thumb to open yourself to him, a slight pink and red shade of your vagina throbbing, clenching around nothing under his gazed. He was staring so long, studied your body and your most sensitive part, carved them deep into his brain that makes you blush so damn much before takes off his shirt. "L-luffy... It's so embarrassing if you keep staring like that...", you watching him between your spread-opened thighs with deep shade of red but won't close your legs because you know he won't let you do that. "It's pretty, (y/n). This little hole of yours keeps throbbing ya know that?", Luffy rubbing his palm against your soft mound, eyes drooping and his voice harsher than previous moment.

Luffy fucks you raw, always. He likes it rough and balls deep, he hates the silence especially during sex. He wants to hear the lewd sounds of wet skin slapping against skin, the bed squeaking under you both and your moans. Moans for him, more and more, don't be shy, he loves your shaky voice calling out his name. Luffy loves the sounds of your pussy squelching while taking his cock and he probably says it out.

Dirty talk? Nah, he doesn't even have to try because he IS the dirty one. He says what he saw, your pussy so red and swollen and his cum oozed out our cunthole? He definitely said it out: "Looking at my cum leaking out your pussy, (y/n), shit, that's a lot, babe." And said that with a straight face with toying with your clit.

Oh he such a sweet soul but oh so a dirtiest, nastiest one. "Your pussy is so red, babe, let me suck your clit.", and didn't wait for your response but buried his face into your abused red pussy lips.

He fucks with any new idea came up his mind. For example, he told you to masturbate for him on his bed, then he freed his cock, fingers wrapped firmly around his length and stroking up and down along with the movement of your fingers thrusting in and out your hole until you both reached the peak, Luffy used his free hand to keep your legs opened wide and cumming on your bare pussy. Each thick rope of white, hot cum spurting on your clit, pussy lips and some on your mound and some goes inside your pussy but he won't stop. Luffy nudging the head of his cock against your cum-covered pussy to smear his cum all over your cunt, even teasing you by collected some cum on his cockhead and pushing the tip inside. After that, he asked you to put your panties back on and walking around with his cum still on your pussy like that.

Likes teasing you by grinding his dark pubic hair against your sensitive clit. That was hot to him, he could do that for hour to make you whimper and brows knitted together.

Another one, Luffy loves tapping his cockhead on your clit, or your cunthole to feel your thighs shaking, hips jolt upward and dragging his tip up and down your slit. He doesn't know why he did that himself but "It's hot, slap my cock on your pussy like this making me want to cum so hard, babe."

What his dick looks like? Well, over average size, maybe > 16cm (6,3 inches), tanned, and really thick (almost 5 inches). Slightly curved to the right, dark red tip and few veins running on underside. Not trimmed, he leaves it natural and he found another reason to leave it that way - tease your clit. In general, his cock taste good tho, same as his cum and fit in your mouth and fist perfectly.

His stamina is amazing, look at how long he had fought Kaido so we can say that he can fucks you that long enough. He can goes round to round, he fucks you fast and rough like a rabbit in heat without hesitation and he won't let you take a break to chase your breath during it.

Result: your pussy all red and sore, but oddly satisfied since you boyfriend made you cum so hard, multiple times. You still in the haze and fucked out, his cum dripped down the sheets from your pussy. Don't worry if you gonna get pregnant, Luffy surely wife you up, you gonna carry his baby and be his wife even in another life! And about Luffy? Our boy fell asleep fast, snoring already but in the morning he wakes up, he will give you your aftercare.

So that's all >< that's what I got in my head right now lol. If you enjoy this little pieces of mine, don't forget to let me know your thought about this. Love you and have a great day <33

[lab1rynth]

Yan!Zombie

Yan!Zombie who you met, alive, a few years after the Apololypse started. You both had became friends and protected each other, you had stayed in his base and ate food he found for the both of you. It felt safe, that all changed when you left for a few weeks to find more survivors. You came home to him chained up and turned, a chunk of his wrist was bitten off.

Yan!Zombie who had left you a note before he turned, telling you that he had chained himself up, how it felt as he was turning, how if you wanted to kill him you had full permission to. He just did not want to leave you without answers, so to keep you safe he chained himself up to a wall.

Yan!Zombie who immediately tried going after you when you made noise, being yanked back by the chain. His eyes were locked on yours as drool ran down his chin. It was quite weird to see a zombie that wasn't rotting like most of the others, since zombies are mostly docile unless set off my loud sounds or hungry. He may have run into a hord while scavenging.

Yan!Zombie who, after a while, calmed down and stopped trying to get out of his chains, as even in this animalistic state he could understand that no matter how much he struggled he wasn't going to get out. His eyes stayed pinned on you though, it honestly freaked you out.

Yan!Zombie who you start talking to, of course he doesn't respond, but it feels nice to pretend like he is, to pretend that your only pillar is still alive. You tell him about how he use to act when he was alive, stuff you both did together, sometimes you just told him about your day.

Yan!Zombie who you started feeding raw meat you found, you weren't just going to go out and kill survivors just to keep your zombie friend satiated, that's just wrong. You train him to not try to bite you, waving your hand in front of his face (with protective gear) and not feeding him every time he bit into the gear. It only took a few months until every time you waved your hand in front of his face he just sniffed it a few times and stared up into your eyes.

Yan!Zombie who after a while, you unchained, you had trusted him. The only thing he really did was stumble around behind you, just following you and staring at you confused when you stopped and looked back at him. Sometimes he would go missing for a few minutes then come back with a dead animal, trash, or something shiny. He'd place them in front of you and hope you'd take his gift.

Yan!Zombie who gets touchy after a while, who pokes you or rests his head on your shoulder. He pouts every time you don't pat him on the head when he gets you gifts. If you dont pay attention to him he growls at you or goes limp in the corner of the room, laying and sniffling on the floor until he gets affection.

Yan!Zombie who eats any survivors you bring to the base while your back is turned, causing you to chain him up for a few days for timeout. He whimpers and whines every time you put him in timeout, sometimes convincing you to unchain him earlier than you originally planned.

Yan!Zombie who chases off other Zombies that try to get at you, afterwards bringing you back to the base and cuddling against you, chirping and coo'ing as he lays in your arms and bathes in your scent.

Yan!Zombie who finds a box of his old clothes, sniffing it and wondering why it smelt like him. He dug through the box before finding a comfy shirt and bringing it to you so you could wear it. He would slowly give you more and more of his clothes, loving smelling his scent mixed with yours.

Yan!Zombie who is sensitive to sound, but would absolutely love to hear you talk and talk for days, you're voice reminds him of music, or of what he remembers of music. He would argue that your voice is better if he could talk!!

Yan!Zombie who will honestly die again, and again, and again for you to just be happy. He loves your smile, it makes his unbeating heart feel all tingly. With all the gifts you've accepted from him he assumes you already know he's laid claim on you! You're his and you wearing his clothes and walking with his little trinkets only proves that even more!

[whumpsday]

Kane & Jim AU: Mermay Special

Chronological masterlist / Writing order masterlist

content: mer/vampire whumper, mer/vampire whumpee, whumper-turned-whumpee, dehydration, claustrophobia, starvation, torture, brief death wish, recovery, caretaking

have something special for mermay :) inspired by this fanart my friend lostie drew 2 years ago!!

-

It hadn’t rained in a week, Jim’s freshwater had run out the day before, and he was going to die.

He knew he was going to die. Kane would come back to feed, and his body wouldn’t be able to hold up anymore, and he would die. Either with Kane’s jaws clamped around him, or later, alone in the damp cold sand.

He wasn’t thirsty enough to be desperate yet, not desperate enough to drink the abundant saltwater taunting him from his prison’s little beach. He knew it would only make him die faster. It was poison.

It hardly mattered at this point. Months with no rescue likely meant no rescue at all, and this was hardly a life. Still, something cried out in him, wanting to live.

Jim scrambled against the rock as he saw that telltale fin start to poke out of the water, more and more until the vampire revealed himself in full, the head and torso of a man and the tail-end of a shark. Not that there was anywhere for Jim to use his worthless legs to run to.

“Food.” Kane slung half a seal onto the surface, raw yet unbloodied.

Jim cautiously crept forward. “I need water.”

Kane raised an eyebrow at him, then splashed him, leaving him soaked.

“Fresh water,” he pressed, pointing up to the clear sky. “Rainwater. I need it or I’ll die. Please, just take me back to the beach, any beach where there’s humans. I won’t be any use to you dead. You’re not some animal, you know this isn’t right, please!”

“Human mine,” Kane dismissed firmly.

Jim sobbed drily. “I can’t. I can’t. You’re going to kill me.”

“Eat.” Kane shoved the meat toward him, making him flinch back. “Then I eat.”

Jim looked to the sky, Kane’s hungry eyes never leaving him as he devoured the vampire’s leftovers. If it didn’t rain tomorrow, he wouldn’t make it another day.

“Human.” Kane gestured him forward as soon as he finished.

“No, no, I don’t want to!” Jim backed up to the rock again, even knowing it was useless.

Kane huffed, climbing up onto the sand. “Food,” he called him now, a warning tone to his voice, piercing red eyes growing angry.

“Stop,” Jim insisted, squeezing his eyes shut. “No!”

A clawed hand grabbed his leg, any attempt to kick him away futile. He couldn’t match a vampire’s strength on his best day, and this was not his best day.

He cried out as sharp teeth dug into flesh once again, feeling much like the seal in his stomach.

-

Kane whined softly, squirming against the glass.

The fishers had put him in a smaller tank again. He couldn’t be sure–though he learned more of their language every awful day, there were still gaps–but he was near-certain it was a game to them, at this point, how small of a space they could force him to live in. He didn’t need to know their language to see their smirks.

He hadn’t even meant to break the last one. He had been trying so hard this time, and he’d been asleep when it happened. Even so, the fishers left him gasping on the floor in a pile of broken glass for hours. Even the tiny tank was better than none at all. How far he’d fallen, that he could consider this lucky.

Kane wished he could go back to complaining about not having room to swim. He would do anything to go back to the first tank. This one hardly afforded him room to move, to breathe. No matter how he tried to position himself, he always ended up touching the walls, his tail bunched up uncomfortably.

The water was too salty, burning his gills with every breath. He didn’t dare complain about that again. Last time, they left him in that horrible freshwater humans love so much until he screamed and bled to the point where any other fish would die.

But he was a vampire, and there was no driftwood here.

Every time a fisher walked past, Kane tensed. Some carried cruel metal tools, meant for fish already dead, though he’d already known their sting far more than he’d like. Some carried cruel metal tools and looked at him, making him wish he had anywhere to hide.

“Comfy?” a fisher mocked, tapping the glass with the end of his fishing stick, the unavoidable vibrations reverberating wherever he touched it.

Kane shook his head, hoping the answer was acceptable.

“Good. �̴̢̛̙̃̎̀̏͌�̶͙̪̉̃̐͋̈̈́̉͝�̵̛̹̪̳̾́̏̂̏̊͊�̴̤̬͖͖̬̹̣̏�̴̧̹͓͒̋͝�̸͎̝̂̅͋�̴̧͚͍̼̠͌�̵̤̜̻̦̬̄͒̏̃ little display case, leech. �̸͖̞̩̳̒̿͐̚͝ͅ�̴̢̫̺̟̺̬̯͔̋̄�̶̧̺̯͚̳͎͉̆͆̀̉̍�̵͚͈͛̌̑̚�̷̰͝͝�̴̢̡̯̗̖̥̈́̑̄̅̃̀̎̕ feed you this week.”

He perked up at the mention of food, whining louder this time.

The fisher laughed, flicking one of those foul little ash-and-paper cylinders into his tank. “Eat it.”

It would make him sick, but far worse would come of disobeying orders. Maybe the fisher would allow him some food if he obeyed. Kane wriggled until he could position himself enough to reach the bottom of the tank, scooped it up, and swallowed it down.

Another fisher joined him, saying something he couldn’t understand and nodding at his tank before approaching.

Nothing good ever happened when he was taken from his tank.

“No, no, no!” he wailed as his head breached the surface, his salt-lined gills burning all the more against unforgiving air.

-

Jim didn’t go to the beach anymore.

After months stranded and years after living in fear, he never thought he’d get even ten miles near a coastline. Not even twenty. Yet here he was, getting within two, just to see the damn vampire. Just to confirm it’s him.

The scars on his arms and legs floated the vague line between hurt and not, leaving him unsure if it was in his head.

The smell of distant saltwater made him want to vomit.

Jim greeted the fishers in a daze, letting them lead him to the vampire that might be his.

And there he was.

Kane looked worse for wear. He was littered with more scars than Jim was, trapped in a tank barely wider than his body, and even his body looked near-emaciated. His wide eyes locked onto Jim with sudden, harsh terror, and he squirmed as if to try to get away.

“Why’s he… in there?” he asked dumbly.

“Gotta keep a vampire reeeal secure, you of all people know you can’t trust the fuckers. Give ‘em an inch and they’ll take a mile. Can’t move around, don’t have the energy to fight, knows it’s got hurt coming if it tries, that’s the safe way to keep ‘em,” the fisher explained.

Jim couldn’t look him in the eyes after that, so he looked at the tank instead.

“Kane?”

Kane whimpered, pressed against the back of the tank, though that only left him what looked like a couple inches away from the front of it. Jim felt claustrophobic just looking at it.

“So?” the fisher prompted.

“This is him.” Jim took a step forward, hesitantly pressing a hand to the glass. He was really here, powerless to hurt him again.

But Kane was hurt, and terrified, and trapped somewhere small and uncomfortable. There was no way he could leave him here.

“Do you think… I could take him?”

-

Every day, humans came to the aquarium in droves. As an unending mercy, Kane’s tank here was large, with ample places to hide. He never came out while the humans were visiting.

No one hurt him at the aquarium. He always had enough to eat at the aquarium. The workers always smiled at him when he surfaced for his meals. Not the malicious smiles of the fishers, but real ones, like they were friends. They talked to him like he was a person, and he was getting better at talking back, and they didn’t even get mad at him when he wouldn’t come out for the guests. Bellamy slipped him an extra fish and told him he deserved it for being a trooper. He didn’t know what a trooper was, but it sounded good when he said it.

Maybe he would start showing himself, one day, just to make them happy. Maybe if it ever stopped being scary.

As it stood, there was only one guest Kane would leave his hidey-hole for. Thankfully, they allowed him to come just after closing, away from the crowds.

“Hey,” Jim greeted. “Just came to, uh, check up on you. Make sure you’re still doing alright.”

Kane couldn’t speak underwater, and Jim was nowhere close to the top of the roomy tank, so he nodded. He looked at his hand, trying to remember the sign for a second, before making a ‘thumbs-up’.

“You’re okay? You’re happy? No one’s hurting you? They’re feeding you good? Helping you with medical stuff?” Jim asked.

Kane nodded again, smiling this time. He tried not to show his teeth.

Jim sat by the tank. “That’s good. I’m happy for you, man. You know how long ‘til the doc clears you to go home?”

It wouldn’t be long, now. He was gaining the weight back, his injuries had healed, and the exercises he’d been given were helping him learn to swim normally again. Soon, he would be able to survive in the ocean, just like before any of this nightmare had ever happened.

Bellamy said they could do a program together, if he wanted, where guests would come to learn about vampires and ask him questions. He said Kane didn’t have to if he didn’t want to, but winked and promised him some of his blood if he gave it a try.

No fisher could catch him again if he stayed at the aquarium. People would protect him at the aquarium.

Kane shrugged, not sure he would ever leave.

-

sorry all i can write are AUs lol <3 they're warming me up for the main series i prommy

taglist in reblogs!

[meowmeowmeowmeow4x]

Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Chapter 4

Damian's face twisted in disgust at the offending object.

Phantom's quirked in confusion. He nudged the massive striped bass towards the smaller siren. "What's wrong?"

"I am a vegetarian." Damian huffed. "And it's raw."

"Oh. Uh, whoops." Phantom shrugged. "I don't know how to break it to you, dude, but, like... There's not much better to eat out there."

Damian glared at him. "I would rather starve."

Perhaps he was being too stubborn. With a buffoon of a companion such as this, the situation was better treated as a survival scenario than a mere mission. Damian was no fool. Vegetarianism was a luxury afforded to those with the food abundance to choose.

That, and it had been a solid sixteen hours since his last meal. His tail felt sore and aching in a way he hadn't felt in years. His stomach growled and groaned, demanding something to fill it.

The last time he felt a hunger like this was when he was still in the League, when they sent him out on weeks long missions where he starved under moonlight and ate birds and rats to survive.

"Come on, Damian, you need to eat something." Phantom cajoled, as if his puppy-eyed look could ever match that of Richard's. "And the seaweed's not gonna sustain you. Believe me I tried."

"Are sirens obligate carnivores?"

"No, but-"

"Then tell me why I cannot sustain myself off of kelp and seaweed?"

"Dude, those things have literally no calories in them."

A valid point, but just because he was right did not mean Damian had to cede the point so easily. "Is the siren species so primitive as to not have cultivated plants in order to sustain their population?"

"I literally don't know how to answer that dude. Do I look like an ambassador or something to you?"

Damian frowned.

"Look, it's getting late and we'll need all the rest we can get. I promise it doesn't taste that bad. We'll try and work something out tomorrow, how's that?"

Damian sighed. "Very well, but only because I very my life, thank you very much."

"Thank god for that..."

Damian unwrapped himself from his tail, and approached the poor fish. "I am terribly sorry, fish. I will not let your sacrifice be in vain." He muttered.

He looked up to find Phantom with a small knife, cutting up the fish into messy fillets, like this was the first time he'd done so. Peculiar. Surely he had lived off fish his entire life, and had deboned many before this moment.

"Just so you don't get poked in the mouth by a bone or two. Those things suck."

Phantom offered a strip of meat. Shutting his eyes, Damian took the food, and shoved it into his mouth, chewing minimally before swallowing.

The taste was... acceptable.

More than acceptable. perhaps.

It would be a shame to let the fish's death go to waste.

...

Damian sank his teeth into the side of the fish, eyes almost rolling into the back of his head from the taste.

Some time later...

Danny floats back into the cave, a handful of kelp bundled up in his arms. "Hey Damian, look I know this situation sucks for you, like in every way, so I went out and got some greens for you, just so it's not all meat and- Wait, Damian?"

The boy in question slept fastly, his fins gently drifting back in forth in the small currents caused by Danny's entrance. His head was slumped against the bass he'd brought in earlier, little strips of fish still stuck in his teeth.

Now that he wasn't making faces and being angry at Danny, he was honestly pretty cute.

Danny wiped some of the bits of meat off Damian's cheek, careful not to scratch his soft scales with a misplaced claw. Despite being so small, Damian managed to chew through a sizable portion of the fish that was easily half his size or more.

Setting the child's body to the side, and draping a small blanket over him, Danny set to finishing off the rest.

He hoped everyone back home wouldn't worry too much. If the GiW boats didn't clear out by tomorrow, then they were in for a big problem. He and Tucker were working on making waterproof earpieces, but they weren't ready yet, and his waterproof phone had been left in his room when he'd rushed out to get Damian back. That meant no communication with Amity Island whatsoever. No way to get in contact with Bruce Wayne, and no way for his friends to know he and Damian were ok.

He was really in over his head, wasn't he?

The morning came with a very loud wake up call.

"YO BABYPOP!"

Danny jolted awake and bumped his head into the nearest desk overhead. "Who's attacking us?!"

Beside him, Damian jerked himself into a defensive stance (or as close to one as he could manage.)

The curtains of the cave were pushed open, allowing streams of sunlight to stream in and blind the boy with its glare. Peeking into the cave was the head of one Ember McClain, a vicious grin plastering her face.

"You never told me you got a kid!"

Damian chirped indignantly.

Danny sputtered. "Whawhwh Wh Wait a second!"

Ember pulled out of the cave, and squealed. "Yo Kitty! Dipstick's got himself a kid!"

A woosh of water rushed past, and Kitty's neon green and teal scales showed themselves. "Omg! Phantom aren't you like fifteen? What the heck?!"

Danny blushed deeply teal. "He's not mine I swear!"

Ember pushed Kitty out of the way. "Oh my gosh he's so tiny. Who's the lucky woman?? Or man??? Phantom what have you been getting up to without us?!"

Damian hissed at him from behind Danny's shoulder (when did he get there?) "Begone, harpies! And cease your accusations! I would sooner perish than be related in any way to this incompetent fool."

Ember trilled in adoration. "He's so freaking adorable. Where did you get him, Babypop? An orphanage??"

Danny would've done a spittake, if he was above water. "W-what?! Dude, literally where would even find an orphanage around here?"

"Did his parents dump you on him like Johnny was?"

"Uh I'm not even gonna question that."

Ember clasped her hands to her mouth in scandalous shock. "No way, did you finally turn to the dark side and kidnap him?"

Damian piped up again, gripping on Danny's shoulders with his unsheathed claws and rising higher. "Nonsense, I claim no familial relationship with this person, not by blood, law, or emotion. He is as close to me as any stranger would."

"Ouch Damian. I literally saved your life."

Ember and Kitty chortled and shorted. They clutched their bellies and lead against the walls of the cave. "It's just... PFPFTT Phantom you total scoundrel, ahah!"

"Yeah yeah, look I gotta get this kid back to his dad on Amity, and quick. He's probably losing his mind over there."

Kitty gasped. "So you did turn him."

Danny shushed them. "Don't scream it out for the whole ocean to hear!"

He rushed out the entrance of the cave and shooed them in, covering the doorway up as they entered.

"Look I'd really, really rather you guys keep this on the down low. This is kind of a huge deal right now." Danny said.

He turned to Damian, still perched on his shoulder, his little tail brushing against Danny's ghostly white sail. "Is it ok if I tell them?"

"if it will convince them to vacate the premises."

"If you have to know, Damian's the son of some ultra rich guy. Skulker got him for whatever reason, and I was forced to turn him."

"Dude, Skulker went for a literal child?!" Ember clenched her first, likely hiding her extending claws. Right, Skulker was a bit of a touchy subject for her. "Of his own kind, no less?!"

"That's fucking low, girl."

"And now the GiW are going crazy too. Probalby got a huge donation or whatever. We're just waiting untli they go away so I can get Damian back to his dad, without any dissections. That also means none of you guys should be going near the place either."

"Pfft, too late for that."

Danny froze. "Who did they get?"

"Relaaxx, Dipstick. I was just preparing another concert, only for like fifty boats to show up out of fuckin' nowhere. Luckily I heard them before they saw me, but come on! I was miles from Amity at that point!"

"Miles?" Damian whispered.

Danny felt the same way too. They were only increasing their patrols now, shit.

"It's bad enough that the rest of the Pod are freaking migrating. We haven't migrated in years!"

"Yeah, actually, Phantom you wanna join us? I know you have this whole, err, thing, with Amity Island, but we hardly see you. And Johnny's been itching for a rematch."

Danny looked over his shoulder, to where Damian was lost in thought. This might have been the first them he'd seen the kid not glaring.

"Thanks for the offer, but I need to get Damian home. It's my fault he's like this, and he's got a whole family out there waiting for him."

"Don't you too?"

Danny swallowed a thick of water. He did have a family, a family that was probably going crazy. But at least part of that family, and his friends, knew he could take care of himself, knew that he was a siren, knew that the water was his element. Damian's family didn't have that luxury.

"We'll figure it out."

The girls shared a look, and shrugged. "The offer still stands, Babypop. Oh, and i'll be sure to fuckin' dice Skulker next time i see him, lying, cheatin' bastard.

For a moment, the boys watched the two siren teens' trailing tails, before they turned a corner and disappeared.

"Gotham."

"What was that?" Danny asked.

"If Amity Island is inaccessible to us, then we have to go to Gotham."

"Isn't Gotham-"

"On the East Coast? Yes, it is. It's our only option."

"That's thousands of miles, and you can't even walk!"

"Would you rather we stay here, waiting for the GiW to approach us and kill us both?"

Danny clenched his jaw. Damian was right, wasn't he.

"The only way to reunite me with Father is to go to Gotham. They will not be expecting us there."

"How can you be so sure?"

Damian dislodged himself from Danny's shoulder and floated in front of him. "Because they are unaware of the sirens' power of transformation, am I correct?"

"Good point, but wait, how did you know that?"

"I did some cursory research before coming here. The prevailing theories put forth by the supposed 'experts' on the matter asserted that sirens eat their human victims, with no mentions of turning. They have no reason to believe I am not dead., and no reason to suspect any siren activity in Gotham."

"And you're ok with that. Thousands of miles of swimming in the endless ocean full of things wanting to eat you?"

"Are you not?"

"Ok ok, calm down." Danny had to chuckle though. Rich as this kid may be, he was definitely not spoilt enough to sit still and wait for his dad to save him.

"And the fastest way to get to Gotham is via the Panama Canal." Damian puffed his chest out in what was probably pride. Danny stared at him, dumbfounded.

"You're kidding, right?"

"Have I ever jested to you before?"

"No seriously. The Panama Canal. You realise that place is monitored up and down, right? Literally the moment we get spotted, the locks are gonna, you know, lock down, and then we'll be stranded and sitting ducks to be chopped up by the GiW."

"That will not be an issue. You possess the power of camouflage, do you not? And again, they will not be expecting us in Panama, so they will have no reason to bring any sonars there."

Danny wanted to bang his head against the wall. This idea sounded so stupid, but not stupid enough that it was unfeasable.

"In addition, you said it yourself. Your negligence resulted in my permanent loss of humanity, so it is your responsibility to do whatever you can do right your wrong."

Shit. Came with being the son of a businessman, didn't it? This kid was guilttripping the hell out of him and Danny could honestly not say he didn't deserve it.

"Fiiiine. We're going to Panama."

"Excellent." Damian grinned. "Let us leave immediately."

Danny could only pray that none of the 50 things that could go wrong, did go wrong, but when was his luck ever that good?

No, instead, Danny strapped in whatever supplies he had laying around in the cave. To Panama we go...

[monarisse]

— The Hex paradox [arthur nightingale x gn!drifter]

Arthur asks, why are you still here.

You can't believe that he thinks you see them as pets.

SFW, second pov, hurt/comfort, misunderstanding, angst with a happy ending | 3.6k

ao3

There is a flex of a hand — meat under the skin is terribly tense, just like their owner. Long unclipped nails, map of the old scars with pigment just a little bit lighter than everything else. Further: burn, raw marks from laser. Further: a contaminated virus from the elder beast of Deimos. Further-

This is just a body that holds your consciousness when there are no more metallic constructs of dead people that should be controlled. It was... actually, not so horrible to unfold the truth behind the creations of Ballas. Or others. There was always something more than you in these turned-to-be-bones metallic wires and engines. Always lurking in shadow; just not enough to be found, but enough to feel the sudden twitch of a cobalt fingers or unknown step of feet. Sometimes, even more: dance with a weapon, full of joy; murmur in an unknown language; search for something behind the back. Unnecessary. Unasked. Unprovoked. But... familiar, almost to the pain in your drifting mind.

It's ironic — that they all called you The Drifter. Not The Operator — not anymore, at least. Even if there was someone, in this time of the universe, who would gladly use this title on you, it would not be the truth. And you will not allow it. Hundreds of years after all of this, there would be a child with angry eyes and a thirst for power, who changed too much and too little to be completely you again. So you give them the future and keep yourself in the past — it seems right. Especially because (it's ill-fitting, it's wrong, and it's foolish, but deep down it's what makes them and you one person), The Operator can't travel here. They ask in rare times together how it was.

And for you, it's never "was." It's still here.

———

After winter, spring and summer together, they became steadier, softer. Smoother. Happier. Amir sleeps better. Angered only by some unnecessary presence before, now Quincy finds serenity, covering your back on missions. Aoi plays on the borrowed piano from the music store, and Eleanor whispers in your mind stories that she read in the past about Great Britain. Sharpened on the edges Lettie, today holds her hand to yours, so her beasts could crawl on the skin of this body with hushed squeaks, smelling with their little noses acid and kerosene, that scaldra pours on you every day. Lettie clicks her tongue in disappointment when she sees a new wound on the meat of shoulder — because in this body you can't heal as fast as they, and it's hypocritical to come out of frame when they're — the Mighty Hex, batch of soldiers of the future, your Friends, in the end — still here. And-

It's so. Fucking. Funny. A snicker falls from your lips before you can stop it.

Lettie furrows her eyebrows. In her eyes — something eats the previous light joke and fills it with thick tension.

"What did he do?" Anita squeaks, runs to her siblings, and you just blink.

"Who?"

Oh, it's not a secret. You... can guess who she talks about. And Lettie knows it.

"¡Pendejo! You know who. Don't play an owl with me."

Sharp teeth of the future crash into each other. Smile on these lips — sugary sweet from lies. This is not something new. How many people "The Great Hero" of the New War has deceived around the years of the Narmer regime?

"Nothing. Why you-"

She smacks your arm.

"Shut up. Don't want to hear your explanations. His brooding takes its toll on you," she painstakingly cleans her fingers from void-touched blood. From all of them, Eleanor is one who can feel lies, but Leticia is... another deal. She doesn't have the need to hear your thoughts. Magic of doctors, you guess.

It's strange that she cares about you. After all, these six are a team. And the seventh angle doesn't belong in the hexagon, even if it forces itself inside.

But, for Lettie, you let it slide. Hold her palm in yours and blink a little bit slower.

"I take care of that. Promise"

———

You know it — even too much of something good can be poisonous. Like trivia: this body was not ready for the delicious food that they have here, so on one night with beer and Hex you threw up in the bathroom on the second floor. But... Compare this and... your genuine worry for Nightingale seems like a wrong play of komi, where no one could win.

Worse: you remember Umbra. His blind eye and this wordless trust between him and The Operator. This wordless care that travels with them everywhere. How could you not feel envy when this child not only found the way from Zariman 10-0, but even saved the frame that could think without Tenno? Well, now you have protoframes. They joke with you in their bones, and they help you when it becomes unbearable — this world, this time, this loop. So why, when you stretch out your hand only how you can, it turns out... It is too much. Or too little.

And... what even happens in this thick skull of his, when he abruptly leaves a conversation on KIM, then agrees on Amir's play and, after... drowns you in questions?

Broadsword

So what is it? Pity? Or are you stupid as well as crazy?

Broadsword

Stop dodging! Why. Are. You. Still. Here?!

There is a reminiscence of a dull ache from Duviri. Another swing of an axe above the head. Endless swirl of colors. And buzzing in the skull. This body trembles, unable to comprehend all emotions from a feverish mind, and you pull your hand to clean your face from... something. Anything.

How could he even ask this shit? Like you some bystander that already left them after a week of knowing, just to start a new adventure far far away. Like you didn't search abandoned markets for his favorite beer, didn't bring special ammunition to Quincy, didn't practice with Aoi and Amir on the transmission of intel. Just some guest, not important to add in their ranks.

Nidus quietly shrieks when you transfer back to him. It is something of a habit. You can't even feel the exact moment when his broad frame already exits the backroom, too busy with boiling emotions inside your mind (the biggest question there: what if Kid would be able to help them without this mess of emotions. What if Hex liked the Operator more?).

Höllvania Central Mall never sleeps. Especially now, when there are not seven, but many more breathing shadows waiting for the other day to live, so... It is a little bit of awakening — see disbelief and caution in the eyes of bystanders when the form of Nidus makes his way from the second floor to the first in one jump. But still not enough to stop the heavy steps of the infested frame.

He's in his usual spot, crouched between some ammo for his rifle and computer, and Arthur... seems a little bit surprised. Like it wasn't you who he wrote just seconds ago.

Pity. He called your carefully crafted relationships with the Hex "pity." And you, yourself: crazy and stupid.

"You could just-" There is something more behind his dazed expression, some dark undertone, but it is not about him. Not anymore.

"How could you," Nidus freezes like a mannequin in the doorframe. This body constructs itself right against Nightingale; scarred fingers cling to his shoulder to feel something else beside the usual eerie words of KIM-messages and hushed phrases under the sick sky. His brows rise up even more now, "How could you even think of something like that!"

Arthur's lips twitch.

Prince of fire Lodun, in all his ugly glory, paints your mind with blood and red.

"It's bothering me already enough time to just let it slide," his words twist something in the pit of your stomach, and Lodun's voice screeches somewhere around the frontal lobe. He shouldn't say such words to you. It is blasphemy. Lie. His hand rips your own from himself almost like you hurt him, and the scar around the palm that he left you with starts to pulsate, "You walk around the Mall like everything is okay and we're not just some dead meat to your future."

He is poisonous. Some sort of divine punishment for you, as if you didn't suffer enough for years and years of survival. There are no more light jokes, no more strange, vigorous words with the undertone of something bigger. Only a stern glance on this body.

Prince Lodun fist his finger and crack another hole in your mind walls.

Body of the Drifter winces.

"Are you fucking kidding?" teeth clacks. The jaw's strained to its limit. All of this time together, just drained in the sink, "What do you think? That I stayed here just to forget about you all in the next minute?"

He doesn't need to say it aloud. The answer is written on his face already, and it's making Lodun more loud in your mind.

"How many times have you already done that?"

Lodun roars. This head is pounding.

"What?!"

It's unbelievable. He looks at you with such a sardonic expression, as if he knows that you did something so bad that you even can't stand with him in one room, and... you want to go right in his head to fucking show Arthur how terribly wrong he is.

The worst of all: he keeps going.

"It's convenient, isn't it? To play "friends" with people you can just leave behind," his grip tightens, and Arthur steps forward. A little more and it would become a fight.

You hold back. Just a little bit, but the patience in this body already wears itself.

"So that's what's stuck in your head?" You snarl, "Not bad enough, don't you think?" One step to him, and you feel — one more, and you can crash in his metallic chest. Eyes squint, "Make me a villain more, why not? Maybe I should take control of one of you and dispose of everyone else, huh?" Luscinia weeps in the corner of your mind with these harsh words, but you are unable to hear her — spiral of Loduns anger in its all-power captured you. There is something of a hurt in Arthur's face. But you only use his own method on him. It's almost like he didn't think of this — that you could use his friends against him or even make him a bystander in the nonexistent massacre.

"You can," his voice drops lower. Grip tightens even more — soon bones in this body would be broken by his fingers. "So I advise you to stop pretending like we're important to you," Nightingale bends his head, and you can see the hues of his blind eye for the first time, "and put us all out of this misery."

You're tugging this hand away — alas, it's not working, and a wave of dull pain passes through the body. He never thought that it was as hard for you as for them.

Luscinia crying. The Sorrowful Soprano of Duviri weeping like a mother who lost something too precious for her, and with Loduns anger, it's too much to feel in one moment. Your mind makes itself the battleground of the old Tales.

You want to say: maybe you're right.

You want to say: maybe I should just leave things like they are.

But... the Hex already made themselves important for you. So much that you gladly would stay here forever, with this ancient technology and people of the past. The Operator has their people. Why shouldn't you have yours?

You take a deep breath. Close tired eyes.

"If you think that I should go, I'll do it." There is something too heavy in these words, so you can't raise this head anymore, with your gaze a little bit blurry. Not from tears, "You all became too important for me, so if it would be better for Hex, I'll be gone to my time."

You know: without you, they will all be dead in the New Year of 1999. The reactor will blow up, and Arthur will bleed on the floor of the radiated room, near the bodies of Aoi and Amir.

And you can just feel the power of Spiral, to send it all back in January, to start again.

"Don't make yourself a martyr. You can leave when you want."

That's it.

You snap.

"My fucking Sol," you twitch this head, "you are as dense as Razorback," Nightingale becomes a little bit puzzled by the unknown comparison, but you continue, "What should I say? "Sorry, Arthur, I stayed here because I know that without me you all will die." Your voice becomes louder and louder; it breaks in some words, and you feel: the dam was broken, "And I developed feelings for you, and all of this embarrassing flirting was so bad because I had never done it before? You know, because I was trapped all of my youth in an endless loop of my own death, and I didn't even think that I could feel something like that"," his grip finally becomes loose, and you break the palm from him, only to point the finger at Arthur, "Everyone knows about it. I thought that you-"

Wait. You thought that he already knew about your feelings for him — it was so obvious that Eleanor even asked you not to think about her brother on united missions. But... You shut this mouth and looked at Arthur. He's... flagger-basted. No more anger in his eyes, only genuine surprise, and — worst of all — he continues to keep silent.

"Great," you roll this eyes. Fuck it. Maybe he knew, just feelings weren't mutual, and Nightingale didn't acknowledge it, to leave things as they were. But now you spelled it all aloud, and there is only one way to turn it back. Maybe... no. You don't want it.

Sol, you should just go to the backroom and decay in some corner.

You take a deep breath.

"I'll be going to throw up somewhere on the second floor from embarrassment," you transfer back to Nidus, "don't message me," and head towards the escalator.

Worst: he didn't even stop you.

———

Quincy screams in your comm and it's almost unbearable how he just throws a stash of Scaldra supply on the garage floor, just to head back to civilians in the old supermarket without another word to you.

Blew up the tank without care of flying too far away to not be hurt; melted one of the other stashes; almost got Kalymos dead. You've gone more hectic. But it's still better than lying on a couch with nausea and a sorrowful expression (it's still better than nothing — you remind yourself — you still feel something, and it's better than apathy).

Funny: if the Kid could see you, they would be furious. Throwing some tantrum about how such a mindless thing would wreck you, The Drifter, to some pathetic ordinary human. They were always like this: more hard than you, more prideful. They could chew Arthur's words and twist them so much that the man would not be sure what he even wants anymore. But the Operator is too far away. And you are too arrogant to travel back to them. Lotus would calm you down, embrace you in a motherly hold; however... you don't want it right now. One thing that surely helps: killing. Scaldra or Techrot — doesn't matter.

"I'm worried about you," tells Aoi when the sharp talons of Garuda give her a package full of CDs, "I heard your argument with Arthur." She seems a little bit sheepish, but... you know, that you actually can trust her. Of all Hex, Aoi is the most understandable. You can tell her all your worries, and she wouldn't laugh or write off your feelings. "It's hard with him sometimes, but Arthur cares about us all," of course he is, "you included."

You hum. The sound comes a little bit muffled.

"I'm sure." No, you're not, but there is no need to talk about it right now. Aoi squints her eyes in disbelief. "Sorry, Aoi. It's between me and him and i-"

"Drifter," his voice is too loud in Aoi's lair, but you don't turn to Nightingale. Maybe he will disappear if you don't acknowledge his presence. "We need to talk," Morohoshi shows some kind of gesture that you don't recognize, with her big finger pointed out, and she shakes her head, smiling.

If there were only two of you, you'd find a reason to just vanish in the air.

Damn. Why is it harder than killing an archon with a bow?

"Alright," you sign. Garuda turns around to Excalibur and he is already heading somewhere in an unknown destination.

What does he want to say? That he made a decision to stay with you on friendly terms so that you could save Hex's lives? That he'll save them by himself? Good luck with that. You'll still be here, even if he wants to banish you from others, just not in his line of sight. And when clocks turn 23:56 without catastrophe, you'll let them go and transfer yourself back to Loid, to solve problems of Deimos.

It's some sort of warehouse — you've never been here before, and it's strange how music from the hall becomes only disoriented muffles when Arthur closes the door. You stand a little bit farther from him than usual — not to make yourself comfortable here.

Arthur leans on some kind of cabinet.

Heavy silence falls on you two.

And when you think that this was a bad idea — to come here with him — Arthur starts talking.

"You know that all my life I was a military man," he spins that damn sword — Arthur's voice... not so loud. He speaks almost carefully, like his words already were chosen before this talk, and... you don't know what to think about. Emotion without name, without personification in Tales of Duviri, born in a pit of stomach, "and... I think I was ready to leave some things behind," he's not looking at you; his gaze stops on scratches on the floor, "because there was not enough time, or... I didn't try to understand others more."

You gulp. Garuda's scales tremble.

"And I tend to search for enemies where there aren't any." Finally, Arthur looks at you. There is more than tiredness from endless nights; quiet longing, a hint of uncertainty, something... tender.

He sighs.

"And," Arthur chuckles, and you grit your own teeth, thrashing about to step from Garuda or stay in her bones, "I'm not even entirely human. I mean, look at me," he gestures at the metal skin of his body, "not a usual choice of the mass."

Still, it's better to talk face to face. Especially on topics like that, you make a decision in one moment, to reappear beside him in another.

"Arthur," your own voice strained with hoarse hesitation, "you're a good person. You shouldn't talk about yourself like that." There is a hint of a smile in the corner of his lips, and Arthur blinks a little bit slower.

"You're always saying such things that give me hope." Spinning of his blade comes to an end, and the warehouse becomes more... steady. Peaceful.

Nightingale clears his throat.

"Did you mean it?" comes almost in a whisper, "that you have... feelings. For me."

You tear your gaze from him and put it down, not able to look in his eyes. Yes. It is definitely harder than killing an archon.

Fingers dip in the elbows.

"Yes."

Nothing more. Just a short, clear answer to put any misunderstanding behind.

Remarkably, the stomach stops swirling. All of this body became... calm, like all the worries just disappeared with this one word. Even if Arthur doesn't feel the same, you are glad that you two talked about it. Finally, you can open a new page in-

"It's mutual."

What?

You snap this head to him, and, for the first time in an eternity, you see Arthur smiling. Without some undertone in it, without pressure. Just a clear, happy smile on his scarred face, and you even see some little dimples on his cheeks.

And, maybe it's too early and you should wait some time to do such things, but these hands — your hands — reach out to him, to bury your fingers in his hair and press an uncertain but full-of-burning-emotions kiss to his lips.

It's raw — skin to skin, first too gentle to feel something more than the texture of others, but with every passing moment, all of this bottling adoration for him seeps through the motion. And Arthur answers you, laying his metallic palm in the crook of your neck, to deepen the kiss — he opens his mouth, presses you to himself more, to finally give you something that you wanted too long to confess.

In reality, it's still better than in imagination.

When there is not enough air in your lungs, when your shuddered inhale mixes with his own and both of you break away for a moment, you press your forehead to Arthur's, holding onto his shoulder.

"You know," he starts after a moment of silence, with a voice a little bit rough on the edges. You open your eyes and move your head a little bit to look at him once more. Cold fingers start to play with the strands of your hair. "If someone had told me that I would want to kiss someone from the future who trespassed my mind, I think I would kill them," Arthur breathlessly laughing and-

"Sol, you're unbelievable." You smack his shoulder and move to get out from his grip, but Nightingale presses you even more into himself, and you feel how his laughter starts to seep through your bones.

"You're stuck with me now. No refunds, sweets." Arthur pressed a chaste kiss on the crown of your head, and... you hug him, closing your eyes back.

The Harbinger of Joy, Mathilda, smiles for the first time in what feels like eternity.

[pawpupster]

Kit

Back at it again y'all. Um, this one is literally so self indulgent. That's beside the point though. I'm not trying to make it fit into any movie or existing timeline and once again I'm just making stuff up bc I can. Anyway...

Paternal Logan x child!gn!reader

Summary: Young Y/N finds their way to the mansion after long travels. Once there, Charles quickly sends Logan to bond with them because they were derived from his DNA.

warnings: nothing to worry about if you watch X-men anyway.

Kit

Y/N wandered down a long path, utilizing their nose to lead them in the right direction. They knew they looked suspicious. I mean really, how many kids go around covered in blood? Not many, and if they do it's not long until they’re picked up and questioned. 

Y/N couldn't risk that though, they knew what would happen if humans saw the claws coming from their knuckles. That's why they needed to follow this scent. Y/N had been trekking the woods after escaping their parents basement for days now. No real direction or plan. Just thankful they were away from that personal hell... and that their mutation let them eat raw meat. Too many squirrels were eaten in the past few days.

It was day 16 that the wind brought along the scent of fellow mutants. Y/N was all too knowing of exactly what a mutant smelled like. I mean, you spend enough time locked up with nothing but your own senses and you pick apart what you can, in this case, your own scent. 

All the better at the end of the day though. Nothing could be worse than what they came from. Y/N just hoped they wouldn’t judge them too greatly for killing their torturer. 

A mass amount of mutants like the one Y/N could smell would either be helpful or harmful. They were confident they could hold their own enough to escape again if things took a turn for the worse, but they were banking on this group being helpful. As Y/N neared, they could begin to hear the sounds of laughter, definitely a good sign. 

Finally around the bend, Y/N was surprised to be greeted with a voice in their head. 

“Hello, young one. My name is Charles Xavier, what brings you here?”

Y/N was freaked out to say the least. Their body kicked back into flight or fight mode and they swore they could feel their muscles tighten to their adamantium bones. They didn’t know how to answer the question. Shouldn't it be obvious they wanted to be with those like them? Plus, who was this Charles to think he could crawl into people's heads without permission?

“You raise a good point, I apologize. You seem to be in a pretty rough shape. Please, let us assist you,” Came the kind voice in their head once again.

Unwillingly, Y/N began to find comfort in that voice. As they stared at the looming building, Y/N could only think of how unkind their father was. 

They doubted that this ‘Charles’ would infuse a woman's growing fetus with the last remains of the weapon x’s experiment’s DNA. Much less to then keep that child locked in his basement after it killed his wife by birth, though, staring at the mansion Y/N could admit its basement probably wasn’t as bad as the one they were in. 

“Oh you poor thing,” Y/N was once again interrupted in their own head, "we are just the place for you. I promise. You’ll never have to suffer like that again.”

Y/N looked back up at the mansion when they heard the great doors open. Out came a gruff looking man. Y/N was set on edge again as the man began making his way towards them at a quick pace. 

Scrambling backwards, Y/N ended up tripping and attempted to use their hands to catch themselves. This only resulted in them stabbing themselves in the thighs upon their landing. The scent of their own fresh blood flooding their nose is what sent Y/N into a true frenzy. 

Tears began to pour and growls rumbled in their throat as they once again were shocked with the voice of Charles in their head, “Do not fret Y/N, this is Logan. I believe you’ll find him to be most helpful at the moment.”

Remembering the gruff man once again, Y/N jerked their head up to find that the man had stopped a few paces from their position on the ground and was staring intently at the claws embedded in their thighs. 

“Hey bub, Charles” the man - Logan, they remembered - began hesitantly, looking up to see if Y/N was listening, “sent me to bring you in. He’s under the assumption you're some sort of backasswards offspring of mine.” Logan cocked an eyebrow at Y/N as he released his own claws from his knuckles, only to pull them back in after Y/N’s eyes flashed with recognition. 

They were shocked to hear gentle rumbles coming from the man. It was soothing. Y/N found themself starting to hiccup instead of sob, and their own growls lessened into small mewls. 

“Oh kit,” Logan started advancing again. Once near enough, he kneeled down and sat back on his heels, “let’s get those out of your legs and then we'll work on cleaning you up, okay?”

As the man began reaching towards them, Y/N flinched away and wrenched their claws out of their thighs to hold defensively before them. 

“Don’t hurt me, please! I’m sorry for coming. I didn’t mean to kill them I promise! I just wanted it to stop, please don’t hurt me,” Y/N desperately cried, eyes looking to their quickly healing thighs, hoping with everything in them that this man wouldn’t impale them with his own metal claws. 

“Kit, I’m not goin’ to hurt ya, and I’m certainly not gonna be the one to tell you off for doing whatever ya could to get out of what looks to be a tough situation. Lemme get you inside, allright. Inta a nice warm bath and some better clothes than these rags. How’s that sound?” The man spoke very gently, still with that kind rumble in his chest. 

Y/N looked up at him again when he gently grabbed their wrists to lower their claws. Y/N watched as he began to gently rub the pads of his thumbs over the inside of their wrists. Y/N was confused at first, until they watched as their claws retreated back into their forearms when Logan hit a particular muscle. They tried their best to not let the pain of the movement show, but they were sure Logan heard their small hiss and the smell of distress spike.

Making eye contact again, Logan reached out to grab Y/N under their arms. Overwhelmed with all that's happened over the last few weeks and especially the last fifteen minutes, Y/N’s body decided it was the best course of action to shift into their wolverine form… to the shock of Logan, Charles (who was viewing from Logans head), and the students out on the lawn who had been watching the interaction from a distance.

Logan could hear the students begin to murmur about the kit having a true animal form, and he even heard one brave kid question if Logan could do the same (he couldn't), but his main focus right now was making sure Y/N was taken care of. 

Carefully cradling the small wolverine to his chest, Logan made sure to keep up his gentle purrs as he made his way into the mansion. He was amazed by how quick a pack-like bond was forming between him and this kit. 

Stood in the foyer, Logan contemplated heading straight to Hank, but ultimately decided a bath would be of better use, especially when he knew any injuries have already healed.

With that in mind, he made his way up to his room. Nodding to the kids he passed in the hall, Logan made sure to keep Y/N out of their view and to glare at anyone close enough to hear his purrs.

Entering his room, Logan gently closed his door and then made his way into his bathroom. He gently set the small wolverine on his counter and began to fill his sink with warm water, all the while pressing a soothing hand over Y/N’s back.

“Don’t worry, we can do a bath just like this if you’d prefer,” Logan told Y/N when he noticed their beady eyes looking up at him. Instantly the kit relaxed under his hands and laid still while watching Logan gather a towel and his 2-in-1 from the shower. 

Once the sink was filled with sufficiently warm water, Logan picked up the kit and let them soak, gently petting the fur on the top of their head before cupping some water and wetting their head, being sure to wipe any from their eyes. 

Squeezing some shampoo into his palm, Logan made sure to scrub everywhere as efficiently as possible. It quickly became apparent that a second fill of water and scrub would be necessary. 

Midway through the sink filling for the second time, Logan heard Jean's voice in his head, “Is it alright if I come in? I promise I only have a spare change of clothes for the child and I’ll just set them on your bed, okay?”

Sending back an affirmative to her presence in his head, Logan made sure to keep a calming hold on the kit when they heard his door open with Jean’s scent rolling under the bathroom door and then close again as she left. 

“It’s all good, Y/N. Let’s get you finished here and into those clothes,” Logan said as he picked up the shampoo once again. 

After the water was running clean off the wolverines fur, Logan picked them up once again and wrapped them in a towel. 

“I’ll go grab you clothes and leave you to change,” Logan set Y/N on the ground once dry and went to grab the clothes Jean left. Going back into the bathroom with them, Logan made sure to warn, “these are just the school merch, so they smell a little starchy and dusty. Don’t worry, we’ll get you some new clothes soon enough.” With that, Logan left the room to give his kit some privacy. 

Y/N had no idea why this man was being so kind. Obviously he was like them, but they still didn’t expect this much care. Y/N can’t remember ever having hot water at their disposal, but Logan made it seem like they’d be getting that and so much more if they stayed here. Feeling calm enough to change back into their human form, Y/N quickly shed their old dirty clothes. Dressing into the sweats was easy enough, though they weren't sure how to keep them on, the pants kept slipping past their waist. 

Holding them up, Y/N stepped out of the bathroom and found Logan sitting on what they presumed to be his bed waiting for them. 

“Oh kit, c’mere,” Logan said as he realized they probably hadn’t had the comfort of sweatpants before. 

Slowly walking toward the man, Y/N was shocked when he gently tugged the string around their waist. At first Y/N thought he was going to tie them up somehow, but quickly realized he was just making a normal bow and their pants now fit. Y/N stared with wide eyes at Logan who only smiled in return. 

“C’mon, you can do with a nap, you look like yer about to drop,” Logan said as he stood from the bed. He pulled back the covers and began to make that rumbling noise Y/N liked so much again. 

Watching the man to make sure he wasn’t going to change his mind, Y/N crawled up into the bed and let themself be tucked in. It was then that they realized they had their own nice rumbly noise coming from their chest too. 

Y/N watched with hazy eyes as Logan made his way to a chair in the corner of the room. The final thing they saw before succumbing to sleep was him opening to marked page in a book. 

Logan couldn’t hold back his smile no matter how hard he tried to. The kit was too adorable when swamped in the logo-ed hoodie and sweatpants and absolutely swimming in his massive bed. Hopefully after a good sleep Y/N would be okay to see Hank and the Professor, but for right now, Logan was gonna let them sleep as long as they needed to. 

[sharenadraculea]

The primarchs having dinner together

Lion: He is a cat. He only eats the meat. Not even touching his veggies. He doesn‘t really get why they are having this dinner, but Luther thought him some decent table manners and he is happy to eat the meat of everyone who doesn‘t want theirs. He is eyeing the pidgeons sitting outside the window. They are gone by the end of teh evening. Fulgrim: He has some really bad allergies. Like one small bite can easely turn into a medical emergency. He really hoped to eat the same food as the others, but it‘s not safe. He takes his own food with him and feels pretty bad about it. Ferrus needs to comfort him. Perty: Grumbeling the whole time. Magnus dragged him here, saying it would be fun. Maybe it kind of is. But Calliphone still cooks better. Jagh: He is very excited to try some new food, very adventurous taste. He‘s having a great time, very supportive of his brothers who are a bit more picky than he is. Offers to buy everyone drinks. Leman: He has a lot of fun too, needs to be stopped from drinking too much. He is a bit sceptical of everything more complicated than bread and meat. A chocolate dessert needs to be ripped from his hands to avoid a medical emergency. Rogal: He has ARFID, so eating in general and especially going out to eat is difficult. Brought his own food with him and when told he eats like a toddler, goes on a extended rant/presentation about ARFID. Brought some extra dino-nuggets to share with his brothers. Ends up distracted and builds a fortress for the dino-nuggets to live in. Konrad: So much food! He has no idea where to look first. Eats very fast and has no table manners. Despite this, he won‘t touch his veggies, because cat. Heroically liberates Morty from both his meat and dessert. Somehow catches the rat which he nibbles on between courses.

Sang: He has perfect manners. Tries everything on the table, does a extensive food criticism. Definetly asks for the recipies of some things, the cook is crying in joy. At some point goes on a long tangent about food on Baal and how good snakes taste. Everyone is shocked that Sang would be a fan of raw snakemeat. He isn‘t very picky. Also eyeing Konrads rat and Lions pidgeons. Ferrus: Not enough stones for his taste. Attempts to also eat the plate. Very worried about Fulgrim and kind of hoovering around him. Lactoseintolerant and is carefull not to end up having a horrible stomach ache, Angron: The nails make tablemanners difficult, he has decided that everything is fingerfood. Surprisingly calm, ripping apart food probally helps. Rob: He got the menu weeks in advance to mentally prepare. Still, it is difficult to eat so much new food. He is kind of regretting that he didn‘t bring his own food like Rogal. Someone notices how stressed out he is and asks the cook if they can send him some spaghetti. This helps a lot. Morty: Meat just gives him the ick. Can‘t eat it, very glad to give his to Konrad. Very happy to eat Konrads and Lions veggies. Kind of intimidated by eating with so many people and very quiet. Looks like he thinks someone will take his food away any moment. Ends up hiding some food in his pockets to eat later, Magnus: He has brought his books with him, just in case. Not all that interested in the food, but keeps three conversations going at the same time. Later drinks two glasses of wine and is passed out, transforming into a blob of warp-goo. Horus: Loudly commenting on everyone else and what they are eating. Then Rogal lectures him and he is humbled for approximatly three minutes. Lactoseintolerant, which he fully ignores. Later loudly complains about his tummyache. Lorgar: His religion has pretty strict rules about what you can eat, so he is very angsty. But he also doesn‘t want to cause problems and it looks and smells so good and Angron keeps handing him squished things and that‘s weirdly cute… Vulkan: He is just so happy that they are all here. Buys everyone some icecream for dessert. He has brought his mothers extra spicy BBQ-sauce with him and puts it on everything. It is classified as a weapon of mass destruction by everyone not from Nocturne. Corvus: Has some food-related trauma (specifically the hadn‘t had emough as a kid) and so keeps eating pretty much everything handed to them. Evem tries Vulkans BBQ-Sauce, which does not end well. Vulkan buys them birdseed in exchange, which makes them very happy. Alpharius Omegon: Somehow got their hands on a McDonalds Happy Meal. Very happy to witness all the chaos

[simplepotatofarmer]

seconds

a short (1,089 words) rivals duo fic about food as love and friendship for @sixteenth-day-event's love month.

Dream didn’t cook.

He had lived on golden apples and pieces of beef that could only charitably be called ‘steak’ and ‘cooked’ and then later he had lived on potatoes, raw and mealy. It had taken months to get the taste out of his mouth. Months of Techno encouraging him to eat until Dream was able to keep down more than a few bites at a time.

It had to be frustrating. Dream had been frustrated, knowing that he needed to eat and knowing his stomach and mind would rebel against it. There had been times he had lashed out and had swept the dish off the table and Techno had rolled his eyes and called him a toddler and a baby and cleaned up the mess.

And he still cooked for Dream, despite it all.

This is so stupid, thought Dream with a groan.

He gripped the edge of the counter and looked down. Half the ingredients of Techno’s pantry sat out: carrots, mushrooms, onions, even potatoes. There were herbs that Dream didn’t know but had passed his sniff test and raw beef that he had dug out of the ice chest.

He had no idea what he was doing.

If Techno was here, Dream would ask him but he was out all day with Phil doing something that was supposed to be secret but Dream knew about anyway because Techno talked and, besides, this was meant to be a surprise.

“How—How hard can it be?” Dream asked the empty kitchen, trying to hype himself up. Outside, the sun was just a little below the halfway point in the sky. “It’s just fucking vegetables and shit in water.”

It was a lot harder than Dream thought.

His hands shook trying to chop the vegetables evenly, the missing fingers making it hard to grip the knife properly and there was one moment where his hand slipped and he grazed his finger, a tiny drop of blood welling up, and Dream had to sit down until he stopped feeling as if his head was full of static. But he had done it.

He had chopped the vegetables (even the potatoes) and then had cut the meat into chunks and had to stop himself from thinking about how easily a person could be carved up. As soon as he was done, Dream had tossed the knife into the sink and refused to look at it again.

Wiping his sleeve across his forehead, Dream began to season his stew. He smelled each herb, tasted some of the spices, dumped a little too much salt into the water and scrambled to scoop what he could out and then tried to mask it with a little more pepper and rosemary. He found dandelion greens and added those, too.

It didn’t taste anything like the stews that Techno made. Dream frowned.

He needed something.

In the back of Techno’s pantry, there was a dusty bottle of beetroot wine, labeled with Phil’s handwriting. That would work. Dream carefully scooped out some more of the water and then poured in half the wine. He added more herbs and spices but stayed away from the salt.

It still wasn’t right and Dream went to the ice chest and pulled out the butter and added a chunk.

Then he put the lid on the pot and let it simmer until Techno got home.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Steam rose off the bowl of stew sitting in front of Techno.

Across the table, Dream was watching him intently, his own bowl untouched, hand on the spoon, waiting for Techno to take the first bite.

“Y’know, you really didn’t have to do this, Dream,” said Techno, stirring the stew a bit.

“Yeah, I know but—but you always cook and I thought—I wanted to cook for...” Dream trailed off, shifting in his seat, finally looking away. “Whatever.”

Techno smiled.

“Nah, I appreciate it, man,” he said. “It looks good.”

That wasn’t a complete lie: the vegetables were clearly painstakingly cut into chunks all of a similar size as was the meat and the broth had a hearty, deep red color to it. Unfortunately, it colored almost everything with a reddish-purple tint to it but that was fine.

It certainly looked better than it smelled because it smelled like Techno’s entire spice rack had been dumped into the pot.

But Dream visibly perked up at his words.

“Yeah? I mean, I didn’t have, like, a recipe or anything.”

I can tell, thought Techno. He said, “Listen, Dream, the secret to cookin’ is you’ve got to cook from the heart, alright?”

A blush, pink and splotchy, colored Dream’s cheeks.

“Ugh. Just—Just eat the stupid stew,” said Dream, not moving to pick up his own spoon.

Techno took a bite.

It wasn’t awful though Techno would have never called it good. There was an odd lack of salt and an even odder mix of herbs and spices, not all of which went together, and a buttery taste that he wasn’t expecting. The beetroot wine was a bit overpowering.

He took another bite.

“Is it—is it alright?”

There was an eagerness on Dream’s face, nervousness in his voice, as he watched Techno.

Techno hadn’t been lying when he said the secret was to cook from the heart. The fact Dream had gone out of his way to cook anything when food had been such a sticking point for him, the fact he had willingly used potatoes when there had been a point he would gag at the mere sight of them, meant something.

It meant a lot.

Techno took another bite, bigger than the first two, and spoke around the mouthful.

“It’s amazin’. You wanna do all the cookin’ from now on?”

Dream scoffed but the blush had deepened and a pleased sort of relief had settled on his features. It softened some of the harshness left behind from the prison.

“Hell no.”

“I’m teasin’ you, Dream,” Techno said, still eating.

Dream pushed his spoon around his own bowl. He was quiet for awhile as Techno ate.

“Yeah—Well, to be—to be fair, you do all of the cooking and I know I’m a pain in the ass,” he said, finally, and finally lifted a spoonful of stew to his mouth. Dream’s features twisted in disgust. “This is fucking awful.”

Techno snorted, reaching across the table to pat Dream’s hand.

“I don’t mind.”

One of Dream’s eyebrows jerked upwards.

“Really?”

“Really.” Techno pushed his chair to back to stand. “Now, I’m gonna get another bowl.”

[belle--ofthebrawl]

I wish you would write a fic about just how much of a crush Aurora has on Mountain (bc I cannot stop thinking about the harvest blessing fic)

I don't know if this is what you wanted but it's what I wrote and we all have to deal with that now. (Bonus just for you: weird ghoul lore)

Aurora was born of gluttony. All tongue and teeth and wailing starvation, no matter how much she stuffed into her small body it was never enough. She remembers the clawing ache of hunger in her stomach more than anything else of her time in the pit. Her fellow hunters learned to leave when she was in the area very quickly; lest they be considered prey as well.

Aeon was the exception to this. He tried to steal her food, a downed behemoth who's killer she had killed and eaten in turn, stomach still hollow with the desire to feed. She’d been near mindless when she fought him and feeling the poke of his cock on her belly awakened her to an entirely new form of hunger.

This one at least, was easier to satiate.

“You're quintessence, like me.” He'd panted in the afterglow. “You're not going to survive on what everyone else does.”

She kissed him, and tasted his emotions on a tongue she felt no desire to chew on. When he slid his fingers inside her, curves them just right, she finally felt full when she whispered her name and he whispered it back in reverent awe.

Two mouths were surprisingly easier to feed than just her own, she was pleased to discover. And though a duo-pack was hardly a respectable number, she grew fiercely protective of Aeon, forever grateful for the way he took care of her appetite no matter how it reared its ugly head.

And walking through the portal with him, hand in hand to their new lives, was the closest thing to a blessing she would ever receive. This body could eat and be filled for much longer than her old one.

This was how she fell in love with Mountain. After an eternity of fending for herself, for Aeon when his head ached too much to hunt, there came this giant of a ghoul that radiated nothing but acceptance. His first action was to give her a soft blanket and lead her to a table where she sat down and was served food she couldn't have even dreamed of before. Bread that was soft with a crackling crust, a hearty golden soup he showed her to dip it in. Meat falling off the bone, she never thought cooked meat would taste better than raw. And he let her snap the bone to scrape out the marrow, even offering her a strange and soft paste to mix it in. He called it butter. He filled what was empty, asked her how she felt and when she fell asleep at the table after gorging herself, he had picked her up and carried her to a wide, square nest space and tucked her in. She fed on the kindness of the action unconsciously and woke with the knowledge he would provide for their odd little pack.

Love as a romantic act was unfamiliar to her. She loved Aeon, but it was a different feeling from what she felt towards Mountain. Aeon was practical and familiar; she knew him like the back of her hand. She wanted to prove herself to the large earth ghoul, prove that should he ever be incapacitated, she could care for him as well as he cared for everyone else.

Hunting on earth was different. She wasn't used to small prey. But she was a quick learner and soon presented the earth ghoul with a clutch of dead creatures with long ears and soft fur, plump and well fed on the lush vegetation of the surface, to see what he could do with them.

And he taught her how to cook. He let her have the second fattest “rabbit” for herself, to snack on as he readied his knives and pans and bottles. She learns about brining, and seasoning and cooking meat slowly so it was juicy and flavorful. Hell was so hot that corpses burned up quickly, devoid of the magic intrinsic to surviving the flames, so all meals had to be as quick as possible. This “slow-cooking” is maddening, but he opens a cupboard, unwraps something and gives her a large rectangle of foodstuff the color of rich, fertile earth. It smells bitter with an underlying sweetness and she nibbles the corner of it, savoring the way it melts and spreads over her taste buds. When she eats it, there are little crunchy bones mixed in and he laughs when she tells him this.

“Almonds.” He corrects. “Dark chocolate with almond toffee.”

Her purr when he ruffles her hair startles them both. 

“Like hearing that.” He says. “Better sound than your stomach rumbling, huh?”

She decides she's going to give him a thousand chocolate bars in return if he keeps looking at her like that, with an emotion so fulfilling it keeps her satisfied for three days straight. Even when the rabbit stew is done, she doesn't take a huge portion for herself like she usually does. She lets others eat as much as she wants, pride welling up when Mountain tells them she caught the rabbits and they congratulate her with with wide smiles and warm eyes. 

She kisses him after the clean up. With a full belly and full heart, she's still got a third appetite to calm. He understands without words. Takes her to his bedroom where he put her through an agonizingly slow warm up. Prepares her until she's tender and dripping, tests her with his fingers and fits himself in; they feast on each other until the sun sets through one window and rises again in the other.

She still bites him though. Sometimes she still doesn't understand which hunger drives her, but he's willing to help her navigate it. Sometimes this emotion is so much she feels it fill her stomach up completely, crawl up her throat and she waits to choke on it but she never does. And with his help too, she learns to say the words that help it stop hurting her in such a strange and wondrous way.

I love you.

[laxmiree]

[CN] MLQC Lucien’s On Fire MQ translation + video with sub EN (Part 3/3)

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

This post contains a detailed spoiler for an MQ that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~

On Fire MQ | Part 1 (1-2) | Part 2 (3-4) | Part 3 (5-6) | Moisturize ASMR

[Warning]: The content of this MQ is currently the most explicit compared to other dates and may not be suitable for individuals under the age of 17 (CN server). It is recommended that those who do not meet this age requirement refrain from proceeding beyond this point.

Part 3 & 4-> [Here]

✂———————–

[Subbed Video, TURN ON CC!]

✂———————–

—[Part 5]— Video Timestamp [31:11]

The kitchen is filled with all sorts of ingredients.

After studying a few recipes, Lucien starts by cleaning the vegetables one by one, arranging them neatly based on size and color.

I put the excess ingredients into the refrigerator and see him preparing to chop vegetables on the cutting board. His movements are meticulous yet unfamiliar.

MC: Do you want some help?

Lucien arches an eyebrow ever so slightly, then frees up one hand to pull me behind him, his voice gentle.

Lucien: Yes, then come closer and help me, okay?

I wrap my arms around Lucien from behind, adjusting his hand to control the force and posture of chopping vegetables.

MC: [smiles softly]...Are you sure about this?

Lucien: Mm, I'm not particularly skilled at this. This position makes it easy for you to correct me at any time.

I wrap my arm around him with some struggle. I can feel his heat seeping through our clothes, causing a slight warmth in my ears.

Unwittingly, I remember the first time I spent New Year's Eve with Lucien. He also once stood behind me and wrapped his arm around me under the pretext of learning to make dumplings.

MC: ...Then, I'll make an effort to not get distracted.

MC: It's better to cut in from this angle...

Two people working together noticeably accelerate the process. After the pot is ready, Lucien and I stand on either side of it, seasoning it together.

Seasonal vegetables lose their raw appearance in the sizzling hot oil, transforming into delectable dishes on the dining table.

MC: The colors are right, and the cuts are similar. At least in terms of appearance, we've perfectly replicated these dishes.

MC: I just wonder how they taste. These dishes look so good, they couldn't possibly be bad, right?

Lucien: They're definitely going to be delicious. After all, we made them together.

Lucien: However, in the coming year, I will try my best to break away from this lady’s help and lead this process independently.

MC: Hehe, it's okay if you don't break away.

MC: I'm happy to accompany you and enjoy this process together. Plus, occasionally being Professor Lucien's "guide", I couldn't ask for more.

Lucien glances at me with a smile on his face, then bends down to kiss me lightly on the eyes.

Lucien: [chuckle then KISS!!!!] Since I have your permission, I won't insist on proving myself anymore.

Lucien: In the days ahead, accompany me to tackle more complex menus.

At the dining table, Lucien picks up his chopsticks, slowly bringing each dish to his mouth. He chews carefully, seeming to savor the unique taste of each dish

Though it's just an ordinary lunch, he eats with exceptional seriousness.

Lucien: The change in cutting technique has a much greater impact on the crispness of the vegetables than I anticipated.

MC: It's subtle, isn't it? Even though the cooking method remains the same, just changing the cutting technique makes the texture much crispier!

Lucien: Hmm, it's also interesting to stew meat with fruits.

MC: Hehe, that's because fruit acids not only tenderize the muscle tissue but also blend in smoothly with the flavor.

Lucien: [chuckles] So, although all these dishes are delicious, I particularly enjoy the stew you've added your ingenuity to.

It's rare to see him provide detailed commentary on dishes beyond just "delicious", and I can't help but raise my chin in pride.

MC: I've actually made some observations before when cooking. Just a slight change in the dish can make a huge difference in taste!

MC: It's kind of like the difference between the front leg meat and the hind leg meat, very distinct!

Lucien's gaze, which was originally focused on tasting the dishes, shifts towards me. Under the lamplight, his eyes soften, as gentle as water flowing into a stream.

Lucien: This classmate's metaphors are always so imaginative.

Lucien: It seems like every inch of the world you perceive is so vibrant and intriguing—

Lucien: Just like these rich dishes, they can evoke a range of emotions and also spark inspiration.

I prop my chin up, looking at him with interest.

MC: If that's the case, then I also want to be the “fruit” in the stew, making Professor Lucien even "sweeter"~

MC: Every happy and interesting experience in my perception, I want you to experience them together with me~

Lucien's eyes soften, and he taps his knuckles gently on the table.

Lucien: [whispers] In that case, can we do something fun together right now?

My eyes light up, and I stand up, walking over to his side. I cup his face in my hands, smiling as we lock eyes.

MC: Of course, then... what do you want to do?

Before I finish speaking, Lucien's hand gently lowers my head, and he plants a light kiss on my lips.

Although it's just a gentle touch, and although the atmosphere isn't ambiguous, I feel my heart beating wildly due to the unexpected intimacy.

I look at him with a flushed face, seeing overflowing tenderness in his eyes, and a magnified reflection of myself.

Lucien: I want to thank this lady who “shares the world” with me.

Then, he leans down, slowly closing the distance between us—

Until our hearts and minds feel the same frequency, melding together into the gentle twilight.

As the last rays of twilight fall, Lucien invites me to experience the festival in this small town.

Lanterns adorned with festive decorations hang on the streetlights, and the air is filled with the scent of firecrackers.

As New Year's Eve approaches, there are already many stalls in the small night market, with couplets, paper-cut decorations, and various potted plants joyfully arranged together.

MC: These paper-cut decorations are quite ordinary, yet they're selling for two digits. They're not as pretty as the ones you've made, but I just bought something really nice!

I take out a box of pink, peach-shaped pastries and hand one to Lucien.

MC: "Longevity Peach Buns"~ Would you like to try one?

Lucien takes a bite, his brows furrowing momentarily as he examines the bun in his hand with a hint of skepticism.

Lucien: [smiles helplessly] I wouldn't recommend it.

Even Lucien, who isn't usually picky about food, expressed dissatisfaction with the bun, which piqued my interest.

I take a bite, and the dry bun with a hint of artificial flavoring fails to satisfy even basic taste expectations.

MC: Uh...!

MC: [unamused] Although it's not tasty, it does look festive... Let's just display it at home when we get back.

Lucien smiles and shakes his head, then picks up a set of spring festival couplets from a nearby stall.

Lucien: The wording on these couplets seems rather ordinary.

Lucien: I'm thinking, why don't we buy some raw materials and try writing our own couplets at home?

MC: Sounds good! Then when the God of Wealth arrives, he'll see that the couplets we've put up are heartfelt and sincere.

MC: If he's in a good mood, who knows, maybe we'll strike it rich~

From the "福" (fortune/blessings) character for the front door to the refrigerator and even the shoe cabinet, to the money tree for the entrance and the glowing little dragon...

As we chat and laugh, the bags we're carrying are already overloaded.

We load the bags into the car and return to our seats. Just as I start to fasten my seatbelt, Lucien pushes open the car door again.

Lucien: I suddenly remembered there's something else I need to buy.

MC: Then I'll go with you.

Lucien: No need, it's right nearby. I'll be back soon.

Before I could react, Lucien had already closed the car door and disappeared into the bustling crowd once again.

✂———————–

—[Part 6]— Video Timestamp [36:42]

(T/N: if you haven't watched the video, please watch it from this timestamp! The BGM choice + voice acting really help set the mood~)

MC: What did Lucien go to buy...?

Snacks, or decorations? Before my thoughts can stray any further, Lucien's figure returns to the car with bags in hand.

MC: You're back!

The car door is pulled open, and along with Lucien’s scent, the chilly wind brings in a subtle smell... of gunpowder?

Lucien: [chuckles] I bought some fireworks...

MC: Oh~

Lucien: And firecrackers.

MC: [surprised] Eh?

I widen my eyes and look into the bag. Besides a few fireworks, there are…

MC: O- one-thousand-firecrackers-rolls and firework rockets?

Seeing my reaction, Lucien satisfactorily curls up the corners of his lips.

Lucien: As an "experiencer," of course I must try some sufficiently exciting things.

The car, loaded with goods, returns to our courtyard. Lucien parks the car and, together with me, we unroll the long red firecrackers on the ground.

The long firecrackers snake around like a red dragon lying on the ground, almost covering the entire courtyard.

I hold the lighter, watching the fuse that is about to ignite the firecrackers and can’t help but feel nervous in my heart.

MC: Lucien, could you, could you wait a moment? I'm not quite mentally prepared yet!

Lucien: [chuckles] Then allow me.

Lucien seems to chuckle softly. Before I can react, he has already struck the match, and the flame dances on his fingertips.

The fuse instantly ignites, speeding forward like a shooting star. I quickly grab Lucien's hand tightly, pulling him away as we run.

The next second, the firecrackers erupt like an awakened dragon, emitting a thrilling roar.

My body instinctively tenses, and I hastily cover Lucien's ears while he does the same for mine.

(the way they instinctively protect each other instead of themselves :”…)

His broad palm reassuringly shields those startling explosions.

Despite the barrier, my hearing becomes even more acute, listening as the firecrackers "rampage" through the courtyard.

I look at Lucien, in the faint red glow, his face is coated with a shimmering warm light, and from beginning to end, his lips are always brimming with a smile.

The bright light swiftly dashes through the dark night. After the long-lasting thousand blasts fade away, the air in the courtyard seems to have turned red.

Lucien waves his hand in front of him, trying to dispel the pungent smell of firecrackers, yet the smile on his lips never falters.

Lucien: Whether it's from the sense of hearing or the sense of smell... The stimulation I'm receiving is far more excessive than I anticipated.

MC: Many things you just have to experience firsthand to truly feel them!

MC: Just like I've come to realize, besides with the beauty of fireworks, Professor Lucien and the firecrackers are also quite "compatible"!

Lucien raises an eyebrow and takes out all the remaining fireworks and firecrackers from the car.

Lucien: That sentence sounds like a stereotypical impression of "Professor Lucien".

Lucien: Fortunately, tonight happens to be a good opportunity for "out with the old, in with the new."

The night sky stretches endlessly, as dark as a piece of black velvet, while the courtyard ground is scattered with remnants of red firecrackers.

Lucien stands between the darkness of the night and the redness around him, with the match he ignites in his hand being the only source of light around.

This glimmer of light remains silent, yet always manages to ignite clusters of earth-shattering fireworks in my world.

So I walk towards him, and together we light up all these fireworks.

The light flies into the night sky, showering down gently, casting warm hues upon us.

And beside me, Lucien's smiling expression is just like the fireworks filling up the sky.

In the end, Lucien and I left a few fireworks unlit and returned to the car for warmth.

The distant sound of firecrackers can be faintly heard, with occasional fireworks lighting up the night sky, illuminating the scene inside the car.

We sit side by side in the back seat, enjoying a moment of tranquility after the playful revelry.

Bright light filters through the car window, casting ambiguous light and shadows on Lucien's face. I trace his profile, and my heart is filled with joy.

MC: Looking back, we've had a lot of fun in just a few days.

MC: Going to the home exhibition together, selecting ingredients and cooking together, wandering through the festival night market, and even setting off fireworks and firecrackers...

MC: I wonder how Professor Lucien feels about this "town trip"?

Lucien meets my expectant gaze, but instead of immediately responding, he ponders for a moment.

Lucien: I've thought of many different answers, many different adjectives.

Lucien: Happiness, warmth, contentment... Each word seems to encapsulate my feelings, yet they all appear a little shallow.

I listen earnestly, reaching out my hand to intertwine with his palm.

Lucien: Whether it's in the warm room, cooking together under the bright lights, or lighting firecrackers together and making "noise".

Lucien: At the moment of accomplishing these things, I have a vague feeling.

Lucien: These seem to be things I've never consciously longed for but deeply desire to do.

Lucien: And year after year, in the New Year, you've helped me realize these, even wishes that I myself didn't fully grasp.

Lucien pauses unusually as if carefully considering his words. After a while, he simply casts his gaze toward me.

Lucien: So if there's anything missing, it's that I want my little lady to feel my happiness.

MC: I've already felt it...

But Lucien gently shakes his head.

Lucien: I want to paint it more vividly for you. Not through carefully crafted rhetoric, perhaps not even by speaking.

(T/N: insert the solemn, melancholic, yet hopeful 5th anniv special theatre BGM 😭 if you've read this far and haven't watched the video, I’d actually beg you to watch 🥺 The timestamp is: [42:09] )

Lucien gently takes my hand and places it over his heart.

In an instant, the world quieted down.

With the familiar heartbeat in my palm, it feels as if the overflowing sense of happiness is also held within my grasp.

"Thump, thump," resounding as if echoing through the entire universe. And it speaks—

Lucien is very happy, very content with life.

And so am I.

At this moment, I seem to also taste the shallowness of "words", for no matter how many words are spoken, they can't fully express the deep love beating in my heart.

So I recklessly approached him, wanting to convey my most profound feelings to him.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, my fingertips threading through his soft hair, as I lean in closer, Lucien gently but firmly pulls me into his embrace.

The smell of gunpowder fills my nostrils, seemingly carrying the heat capable of igniting flames with it.

The lips merely brush against each other, then clinging lovingly and inseparably, unwilling to part ever again.

Our tongues entwine as if thirsting, drawing out every bit of sweetness, until our breaths become so chaotic that they can't be distinguished from each other.

Can a deep kiss express this love? Can a long embrace reveal the yearning in the depths of our hearts?

While thinking about all this in a daze, Lucien's whisper comes to my ear.

Lucien: [whispers breathlessly] Is this kiss enough to explain it all?

MC: Not enough...

I instinctively spoke out, not knowing whether I was answering him or telling myself.

Upon hearing this, with one arm still around me, Lucien unbuttons his shirt with his other hand, revealing his well-defined physique.

Lucien: [chuckles and whispers] Then tonight, I will lay bare all of myself to you, okay?

His eyes still carry a faint smile, but they are moist as if they've captured light, burning and deeply sincere.

I nod and kiss the corner of his eye, taking in all of him.

His warm lips carry a slightly wet sensation as they wander over my body, igniting my skin like clusters of flame.

The intimate and meticulous licking makes me feel like I'm about to melt, my body instinctively tensing up, sliding towards the only fulcrum.

Lucien: [noises of him eating… something, and sighs in satisfaction] ….

The fingers holding my calves suddenly tighten, pulling them wider apart. I sit back heavily and then whimper out in pain.

MC: [blushing] Lucien….

My voice comes out sweetly and aggrievedly, elongating the end of his name with a deliberate undertone. It sounds like pleading for mercy yet also carries a tacit demand.

The sound of muffled laughter reaches my ears, Lucien flips over to be on top of me and presses me down, kissing me on the lips.

Between the disorganized breaths, he murmurs something on the tip of his tongue.

Lucien: [whispers] Sorry, does it hurt a bit?

I nod, but in contrast to my answer, I thrust my hips upward, wanting to fit even closer to him. In the process, I almost hit my head on the car door, but Lucien protected me.

The decorations on my clothes roughly brush against Lucien's exposed skin as he moves, causing him to tremble lightly.

Lucien: [chuckles] These little decorations are a bit in the way.

Those words are much colder than his kisses, and I can't help but watch my heart beat faster as he gently picks at them and lets the decorations fall.

It's just that there seem to be more and more things that get in the way between us… the top, the belt, and the skirt, they all seem a bit unnecessary.

The car's air conditioning blows dry, warm air, dispersing the remaining traces of coldness on our skin.

The moist sensation behind my ears makes me feel like I'm lying on a stream, his voice, hoarse and low, reveals a fervent longing.

Lucien: [hoarsely] Now, can you understand this feeling clearly?

My heart beats fiercely, and within my hazy consciousness, I seem to hear the emotions hidden behind Lucien's questions.

Instinctively, I tighten my arms around his neck and wrap my legs behind his waist. My hand gently caresses him.

MC: I think... I still need more time to understand.

MC: This is what you want too, isn't it?

Lucien’s laughter-tinged voice drifts into my ears.

Lucien:  [whispers followed by more wet kiss noises] The night is still very long.

The ambiguous warmth inside the car envelops us like the steam of a hot spring, carrying us into the clouds.

It seems there are small trinkets on the dashboard that can't withstand the shaking, but we are too preoccupied to notice.

Unintentionally, someone presses the car window button, and the distant sound of fireworks leaps into our ears.

Tiny snowflakes land on my outstretched arms, only to be melted into droplets by the heat.

"Splat," "splat."

This night, when the old days and the new years merge, we seem to need a little more warmth.

--———FIN————–

✂———————

[Bonus: some h-word translation notes before afterword because I don't want to ruin the beautiful smut with my dumb commentary]

Lucien: [whispers] Sorry, does it hurt a bit? I nod, but in contrast to my answer, I thrust my hips upward, wanting to fit even closer to him. In the process, I almost hit my head on the car door, but Lucien protected me.

(T/N: this sentence implies that the pain is not from her sitting back but… him fitting inside *cough*)

The car's air conditioning blows dry, warm air, dispersing the remaining traces of coldness on our skin.

(T/N: this description implies that they are both already completely undressed at that point. To counteract the chill from being unclothed, the warm air conditioner is turned on :>)

✂———————

[Afterword, rambles and highlight(s)]

⎯ Just like how sunlight helps plants to grow, love nurtures Lucien's growth over the years.

Even after 6 years, Love and Producer still have such a talented writing team that never FAILS at making us feel h-word and cry at almost the same time ༼;´༎ຶ ۝ ༎ຶ༽༼;´༎ຶ ۝ ༎ຶ༽༼;´༎ຶ ۝ ༎ຶ༽. This date is not angsty in the traditional sense, in fact, the date in general is so sweet and full of daily life. But the end really punches you just right in the feelings ESPECIALLY with the 5th anniversary special theatre BGM.

Honestly, it’s hard to explain why this date is so good and makes many CN stans cry by the end of the date. It’s… something that you can experience only if you know him for so, so long. It's something that can only be felt by witnessing his growth from the moment you first 'met' him until now. The feelings of observing someone you've ‘nurtured’ with love and care for years finally blossoming into the most colorful and unique 'fireworks' you've ever witnessed… they’re really hard to describe.

But anyway, before this essay turns into an analysis of "The Little Prince" and Lucien, let’s talk about the date, shall we? If last year's date theme was along the lines of "accepting yourself and your emotions from the past," then I predict that this year's theme seems to be about "experiencing and living the present"; and this is such a fitting theme for Lucien. Why? Because as a character, before he met the MC, he was simply an "observer" instead of a “participant”, curiously observing and experimenting on everything around him, and yet never really ‘participates’ and ‘experiences’ in it.  However, thanks to MC, he has begun to actively participate in the hustle and bustle of the world, experiencing many things that have made him more vibrant and ‘alive’. This transition from ‘observer’ to ‘participant’ is cleverly depicted in this date by making him into a participant in the experiments with MC, rather than solely being the experimenter as usual.

This date as a whole centers around two important things, experience and emotions. While the relationship between experience and emotion can be complex and multifaceted, the way I get it from this date is that; if ‘experience’ is more about the ‘input’ that we get from our senses, then ‘emotions’ are the ‘output’ of our experience. In other words, experiences provide the stimuli that trigger emotional responses. Both experience and emotions are important things for us humans; together, they contribute to our ability to fully engage with and appreciate the present moment, rather than simply going through the motions of survival… They’re also two things that Lucien has been learning over the years.

First, let’s talk about experience, when our observer scientist sheds his lab coat and removes his glasses, he transforms into an ordinary person sincerely in love with you and deeply experiencing love. This date depicts how he experiences love in the warmth of everyday life, and amusingly, it almost makes this date feel as if MC and Lucien are newlyweds on their honeymoon ahah. From shopping for furniture for their new home to encountering silly and unexpected problems that the organizer throws at them (just like how everyday lives always throw problems at us lol), to grocery shopping and cooking together, and cough even the fact that they’re basically ‘on fire’ everyday cough— The grocery shopping parts are especially funny (with just Lucien being Lucien lol)... and cooking scene is just chef kiss. It's really endearing to witness how he adapts to homemaking tasks in his unique way, all because of his love for you.

Still on the topic of ‘experience’; do you know that both of the more descriptive spicy scenes are part of the plot? First, the spicy domming ‘guiding’ scene. In that scene, MC guides him to focus on what his senses told him instead of giving processed answers. And this seems to work because, throughout the date, you can notice him developing more opinions on things based on his senses as he experiences everything. Previously, because he never slowed down and always looked far ahead (See also, his Summer UR MQ, recent CN birthday date and story for more in-depth digging about this theme-), he never fully ‘experienced’ life. But with MC's guidance, her “sharing the world” with him, he starts to perceive the world around him more keenly. This transformation is evident in tasting scenes and fireworks scenes, where he earnestly uses his senses to taste their cooking, hearing the loud firecracker noises, and smelling the scent of gunpowder. She doesn’t only ‘bring’ color to his monochrome world, but also the taste, smell and noises of the world around him as he experiences the present. All these stimuli make his world no longer feel ‘silent’ to him. Sometimes, loving him feels like pulling a ‘god’ from his pedestal to experience the lively and ordinary life of mortals. Perhaps he loses some of his ‘invincibility’ (like for example, that causes him to fall for consumerism trap lol), but in this way, he becomes more alive and real.

Then about emotions. The initial discussion about emotions centers around “emotional synchronization” between lovers, setting the stage for exploring how MC and Lucien perceive and handle each other's emotions. Just as MC accepts all of Lucien's emotions, whether they be sadness or happiness [referencing Lucien’s CN birthday date in 2023], Lucien reciprocates by accepting all of her emotions. Lucien demonstrates emotional stability and maturity as a partner, creating an environment where MC feels no need to restrain her emotions in his presence. He is fond of and intrigued by her colorful range of emotions (and a bittersweet reminder of how her moods affect her “color” in his eyes ahah:”””). This highlights their curiosity and fascination with understanding each other on a deeper level.

For them, all human emotions are important, but MC initially wanted Lucien to feel more positive emotions. With the concept of “emotional sync” in mind, she promises to convey more positive emotions for him, inadvertently restraining her own emotions in the process. However, during their time together in the small city, she learns that even so-called “negative emotions” have value. Despite facing challenges or "troubles," both characters find joy and support in each other's company. MC finds Lucien's moments of vulnerability endearing, while Lucien appreciates MC's encouragement and companionship. They both come to acknowledge the natural ebb and flow of emotions in their relationship, realizing that some negative emotions are far from being detrimental; it’s simply part of their day-to-day life. Those emotional fluctuations are just a very small part of their overall happiness~

ALL THE FEELINGS FROM THE SECOND EXPLICIT SPICY SCENES SUCCESSFULLY MADE ME CRY. Experiencing all sorts of things with her during experiments and everyday life … even things and wishes that he never consciously longed for yet always wanted:

许墨很快乐,很幸福

The meaning of these words are difficult to render accurately in English, and my “Xu Mo/Lucien is very happy, very content with his life.” are just barely scratching the surface… While 快乐(kuài lè) refers to a more transient or temporary feeling of happiness and joy, often related to a fun event, 幸福 (xìng fú) encompasses a profound and enduring sense of happiness and contentment in life. It signifies a state of well-being that extends beyond momentary pleasures, often associated with having a loving family, spouse, fulfilling relationships, and a sense of overall satisfaction with one's life. So when combined, it emphasizes the fact that while experiencing all the ups and downs of the world with her, Lucien is not only feeling immediate joy and pleasure ("快乐"), but also enjoying a deeper, more lasting sense of happiness and fulfilment ("幸福"), he is both happy in the moment and all of his life. By slowing down and deeply experiencing each moment of their shared life, he discovers his own happiness and longing that even he himself never knows about. So, he wants her to experience every bit of his happiness and love that has blossomed because of her… candidly and unrestrainedly wants her to experience all of him.

In another vein, LOVE IS A VERB, NOT A NOUN!!! It's a continual action, continual choice, continual promise to another person. And no matter how many words are spoken, both of them can't fully express the deep love beating in heart. So, when words are too “shallow” to even capture a fraction of deep love and happiness, he can only confess them through instinctive actions, recklessly pouring out his heart in every embrace, every kiss, and every touch. And yet, the question still stands, Can a deep kiss express this love? Can a long embrace reveal the yearning in the depths of our hearts? They’ve done everything, yet it still feels not enough, and perhaps… it will take a lifetime of shared experiences and ‘confessions’ to fully reveal the depths of his love and longing for her.

AND SPEAKING OF CHOICE(S), the BGM choice for that last spicy scene is freaking genius!!! It comes from 5th-anniversary special theatre“The many choices of life” video (You can check it on my YT!). This special video is all about the power of your/MC’s choice. I want to highlight the first “what if” scenario. The first “what if” is about what would happen if she had chosen to not meet Lucien.

In this scenario, the narrative explores what would have happened if MC hadn't met Lucien. Without their encounter, Lucien would still be questioning and seeking understanding from the world around him. He would have found another path, albeit one that didn't involve her, dedicating himself to searching for the 'most optimal solution.' However, his world would remain black and white, indifferent to whether there were people who tried to understand him and care for him :”. Anyway, by using this as a BGM choice, it accentuates the power of your/MC’s choice in shaping him being the way he is right now; while still running on the path to explore truth with dedication, he also finds happiness and contentment along the way because of her choice.

In conclusion, Lucien’s writers never fail to captivate us and deliver top-tier writing! This date highlights the importance of experiencing life fully and embracing all emotions, while also underscoring the transformative power of love~ His writers really excel at utilizing his character to its fullest potential. I can go on and on, talking about all the small details and references on this date but this UR won’t be published any time soon if I do LOL. If you’ve read so far, thank you for reading this date and my rambles~