#My life will never be the same without them

[zigdirty]

To all the people out there that are in an at-risk group that are also in any form of a relationship with any MAGA moron: you need to permanently distance yourself from them all as soon as possible, don’t wait because you may not have the same freedoms to leave in the very near future.

Also, in response to any of them bitching (like this jackass did here) that you are “throwing away your life/relationship over politics” or some other similar bullshit, there’s a simple answer to use/paraphrase to any and all of them:

“I���m not throwing anything away. I’m taking care of myself. You threw away your right to have anything to do with me when you chose politics over me. Since you apparently want to strip me of my rights as a person, I’m better off without you. I’m simply making sure I survive the horrible political choices you made. Goodbye.”

Then leave and never. Fucking. LOOK. BACK!

Women are getting rid of their Trump supporting partners while they still legally can since they clearly don't give a shit about them or any other woman.

If you're thinking about getting a divorce, you should do it while you still can.

[ginnsbaker]

All Of Your Pieces (1 - Honey! I shrunk the kids! 18+)

Summary: Wanda accidentally shrinks your kids while trying out a spell that would benefit both of you in the bedroom; Jimmy and Darcy attempt to find out more about the Hex, particularly when they discover a remarkable detail about you. Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader Chapter word count: 3k+ | Tags: Smut, Campy Humor, Language

A/N: I've been working on this series since late August and have finally figured out what to do with it, enough to share it with you all. The story will be told in three parts: Westview (The Missing Town), Pre-Westview, and Post-Westview. This follows some events in WandaVision, but it's very canon-divergent. It's going to be different from my other works (I've never written humor before and I'm quite insecure about that), as this one is very plot-driven but at the same time, still very much Wanda x Reader (especially in parts 2 and 3). Updates will be every Wednesday. Chapters will be 2.5–3.5k words long, except for the ending chapters of each part, which are twice as long. So, without further ado… More author's notes here.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

-

“Honey! I shrunk the kids!” 

Wanda bursts into the basement, apron billowing out like a cape. Except, there's no draft down here; that apron shouldn't be moving like that at all. But then again, considering your wife’s claim, maybe the laws of physics are taking a day off.

You glance up from the miniature model home you’re meticulously working on, unsure if you heard her right. Did she really just say that? 

“You what?”

Wanda, flushed and a little breathless, skids to a stop in front of you. “Okay, so I was experimenting with a new spell, one that was supposed to…” She bites her lip, hesitating, her face glowing a deeper shade of red. “...it was supposed to do something else, but it backfired and... well, it’s not important right now!”

“Jesus, Wanda.”

Your poor, beautiful, occasionally clumsy wife stands there, teetering between a freak-out and a fit of giggles. 

“It was an accident! I didn't mean to!” Wanda shrieks, causing the room to tremble from her panic.

Wanda's powers have always been a wildcard. You can child-proof the entire house in a day, but that definitely doesn't cover child-proofing Wanda herself—especially not when your kids are involved. Luckily, the boys have inherited some special abilities of their own, which leaves you as the sole non-superpowered member of the household. With that in mind, you know better than to panic. Getting worked up alongside her would only escalate things, and you’re not exactly keen on being shrunk next.

“Okay…where are they now?” you ask as calmly as you can manage.

Wanda takes a deep breath and leads you to the living room. You trail her in silence, clutching at composure. It can’t be that bad, right? The distant sound of playful music trickling through the house almost makes it seem like everything’s fine. You hadn’t really noticed it before, but now that you think about it, it’s like your brain has learned to associate that kind of tune with situations that somehow always end in collective sighs of relief.

Sighs, giggles, and applause—sounds that don't belong to Wanda or the boys.

Where are they coming from?

Before your mind can completely sink into the oddities of your life here in Westview, Wanda halts in the middle of the living room. Your eyes dart around, searching for Billy and Tommy, but they’re nowhere to be seen.

“Where?”

“Right there,” Wanda points toward the coffee table, her finger trembling slightly.

You squint in the direction she’s pointing. Next to the TV remote, two tiny figures wave up at you—your sons, each about the size of your thumb.

“Oh my god, they’re tiny!” you gasp, covering your mouth with your hand. You expected them to be at least half their normal size—a size they might grow out of eventually.

“Shhhh, Y/N!” Wanda hisses, pressing her index finger to her lips. “The neighbors might hear you.”

Neighbors. Which usually means just Agnes from next door. There’s literally several meters of spaces between your houses, but somehow, she always manages to hear things she shouldn’t and pries like she’s in some perfectly timed routine.

Wanda kneels by the coffee table, her eyes soft. “I told them to stay right there until we sorted this out.”

The twins start making noises, sounding like tiny bells, though still hard to make out. You pull out a magnifying glass from your back pocket—has that been there the whole time?—making sure your sons are okay. As soon as the lenses zoom in on their faces, you're relieved to see them laughing uproariously, seemingly unbothered by their predicament.

“They seem... happy?” you say, lowering the magnifying glass.

“They think it's hilarious,” Wanda grumbles, her lips curling into a pout.

“So,” you sigh, pushing yourself to your feet. “Any ideas on how to fix this?”  You're tempted to suggest just letting it run its course, waiting for the spell to fizzle out, but you know Wanda wouldn’t go for that. She's fiercely protective of the twins, and you can't blame her—it’s all her handiwork, after all.

Then you hear it—a hiccup. Another follows, and then another, each one a little louder than the last.

Before you know it, Wanda's a sobbing mess.

You cup her face in your hands. “Hey, hey...it’s okay,” you murmur, gently brushing away a tear with your thumb.

Wanda’s breath hitches as she looks at you, her eyes brimming with worry. “What if I can’t fix it?”

“We will,” you promise, looking into her eyes.

A collective ‘awww’ rings in your ears, pulling you out of the moment. What the hell—where did that come from? You've had this creepy feeling of being watched lately, and it's only getting worse.

Wanda brings you back to focus when she nuzzles into your palm. “Oh, Y/N, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You give her a small, lopsided grin and plant a kiss on her forehead. “Good thing you’ll never have to find out.” Something passes over her eyes as soon as you say it, but it vanishes in a split-second, replaced by a moment of inspiration.

“Wait,” she bursts out, stepping away from your embrace. “I think I have an idea.”

She heads straight for the fridge, and you trail after her, holding your breath.

“I’ve been trying to reverse it, but my magic isn’t cooperating. It’s like... it’s tangled,” Wanda mutters, yanking things out of the fridge.

You scowl, arms crossed, watching her. “Tangled? What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. The more I try to fix it, the worse it gets. Like it has a life of its own,” she says. she says. After a few more seconds of rummaging, Wanda finally grabs a tetra pack of chocolate milk—the twins' favorite.

“I’m hoping this will do the trick,” she says, giving the carton a shake.

You cock your head, clueless on what’s going on. “Honey, what’s going on?”

Wanda mumbles, barely glancing up as she vigorously shakes the carton. “Just doing what it says—’Shake well before serving.’”

You roll your eyes, muttering, “This woman...”. Then louder, you ask, “I mean, what’s the chocolate got to do with our tiny children?”

Wanda stops mid-shake, a look of realization dawning on her face. “Oh, right,” she slaps her forehead. “You can’t read minds. I keep forgetting,” she chuckles, setting down the carton with a sheepish grin.

There it is again—a chorus of laughter from somewhere far off. Your mouth twitches at the sound—it’s really starting to get on your nerves. You make a mental note to bring it up with Wanda later.

Wanda gathers herself, then pitches her plan. “Instead of directly casting a spell on the twins, I think it’s safer to enchant this chocolate milk.” She picks up the carton again, giving it a final shake. “The idea is to infuse the milk with a spell that will gradually restore them to their normal sizes.”

You nod, beginning to understand what she’s trying to do. “Sounds less risky than zapping them with more magic head on.”

“Exactly,” she agrees, her eyes lighting up with excitement. You’d swear she’s getting a kick out of this macabre parenting hack—kids and all. The background tune keeps playing, like a promise that the universe won’t let things turn to shit. You’re wondering if maybe Wanda hears it too.

“This way, the magic is diluted and can adjust more naturally with their systems. It’s like... sneaking the cure into their bodies,” she says, snapping her fingers, red swirls of magic emanating from them to the carton of milk.

“I'm so proud of you, baby,” you say, leaning in for a quick kiss which she happily accepts. “For finding a fix, I mean. The whole shrinking our kids thing? Still not great.”

–

“What kind of spell do you think Wanda was going for?” Darcy asks, her eyes fixed on the credits rolling across the screen before it fades to black. She’s really gotten into Wanda’s little show, a welcome distraction from the freezing depths of hell that is New Jersey in November. Though exciting things are finally happening to her, the timing couldn't be worse. 

“No clue,” Jimmy mutters, his attention glued to the laptop in front of him. It’s been two days since Quantico sent him to look into the bizarre case of a missing town—a phenomenon almost unheard of in the 21st century. Upon arriving, they discovered that the town in question, Westview, was enveloped by some sort of anomaly—or a Hex, as Darcy has started calling it, referring to the hexagonal shape of the barrier encasing the town. 

Around the same time as the discovery, S.W.O.R.D. agent Monica Rambeau was quite literally sucked into the anomaly by accident. The only breakthrough has been Darcy Lewis’ detection of the signals, providing them with a window into the mysterious shroud, even helping them identify some of the show's characters as actual residents of the town.

But overall, they're still desperately trying to piece together why this is happening and how to stop it.

Darcy peeks over at the data on Jimmy’s screen. “Find anything new?”

Jimmy sighs in frustration. “No, not really. Everything we dig up just adds more questions instead of answers.”

“Like what, for instance?”

Instead of answering directly, he slides a thick file across the table toward her. “See for yourself.”

Darcy catches the file and starts flipping through it. Murmuring, she says, “So, Google finally returned search results?” The stack of papers is downright daunting. Jimmy’s right—any mountain of information would raise more questions than answers.

“No, not Google,” Jimmy corrects her. “Stark's highly confidential database did. The woman Wanda's married to in Westview? She’s not in any public records. Turns out her records were wiped clean two years ago.”

Darcy looks up, puzzled. “Why would Stark's company have this?”

“Just read, Darcy. It’s all in there,” he says, turning his full attention back to his research.

Darcy frowns slightly and begins scanning through the pages more attentively. It takes her a few minutes to piece together the information she's reading, with her mind going in different directions and still burning with curiosity about the spell Wanda botched.

Finally, she reads aloud, somewhat incredulously, “Subject was recognized as S.H.I.E.L.D.'s youngest marksmanship prodigy prior to recruitment by Stark Industries following the dissolution of S.H.I.E.L.D.. Subsequently provided tactical support on multiple classified operations in conjunction with the Avengers initiative.”

She sets the file down thoughtfully. “Kinda reminds me a bit of Romanoff or Barton. Total badass. I hadn’t pegged Maximoff for that crowd.”

“What crowd did you have Wanda filed under?” Jimmy asks, just out of curiosity.

Darcy’s gaze drifts off, a dreamy smirk on her lips. “Honestly? I always pictured her—or anyone for that matter—swooning over someone more…mythical hammer than tactical espionage.”

Jimmy snorts to himself at Darcy's whimsical take and says, “Of course, you’d say that. Thor's everyone's type.”

“He’s yours too?”

“Yeah, why not,” Jimmy shrugs, his tone more reluctant than sarcastic, which only amuses Darcy more.

“So,” Darcy begins, “Wanda's settled down in New Jersey, married to a woman? I mean, good for her. They all deserve a break. Maybe even an early retirement.”

Jimmy lets out a long, tired sigh, like he's just about done with everything. Darcy notices and raises an eyebrow. “What now?”

He barely glances up. “Like I said, everything’s in there. Just keep reading.”

Darcy groans but goes back to the file, flipping through the pages again. She’s about to make a snarky comment when something catches her attention—something that has her eyes practically popping out of their sockets.

“It… it says here Y/N’s dead.”

“That’s right,” Jimmy responds without missing a beat.

“Not snapped five years ago. Dead-dead.”

“Yep.”

Darcy stares at the page, disbelief all over her face. “That can’t be right, can it?”

Jimmy finally swivels his chair to face her, looking as tired as he sounds. “That’s what I’ve been trying to wrap my head around for hours. If aliens and superheroes are real, maybe bringing someone back from the dead to star in a sitcom isn’t so far-fetched, right?”

–

You carefully pull the blankets up over Billy, smoothing his hair and whispering a soft good night. Tommy’s already half-asleep, but you make sure to tuck him in just as snugly, brushing a kiss on his forehead. Wanda stands in the doorway, watching you, her heart swelling in her chest. You were so clueless when she first had the twins, but now, being a mother just seems to come naturally to you. 

And you pulled it off in a week, while the twins stretched into six-year-olds just as fast.

“Honey,” you call softly, noticing the way she’s lost in thought. “Aren’t you going to say good night to our boys?”

Wanda steps into the room, giving each of the boys their good night kiss. You pucker your lips, silently asking for your turn, and she playfully swats your arm, whispering, “Not here, baby.”

You pout, giving her your best puppy-dog eyes, which only makes her smile. Without warning, you grab her hand and hurriedly pull her out of the boys' room, making a beeline for your bedroom. Wanda’s laughter fills the hallway, and just as you reach the door, you suddenly sweep her off the ground, lifting her into your arms.

Wanda lets out a shriek, her laughter infectious, and you can’t help but grin, even as you let her thump onto the mattress—a sloppy, graceless drop. You follow her onto the bed, rolling onto your stomach to peer down at her, still sporting that stupid smile.

“So, about that kiss you owe me,” you whisper, hovering closer, teasing her with your proximity.

Wanda nods distractedly. “I think I can manage that,” she murmurs, and then her lips are on yours.

It starts simple and sweet. Though soon, her tongue is gently nudging your lips apart, and it quickly becomes anything but. Her hands slip down to your back, pulling you close until her heartbeat hammering against yours. You break away, lips trailing down to her neck, exploring every dip and hollow, your tongue darting out to taste her skin. When you hit that spot just behind her ear, the one that always drives her wild, she gasps.

“Don't start something you can’t finish,” she warns, her voice already thick with want.

“Who says I won't?” you shoot back with a wolfish grin.

You both fall into a familiar routine, as easy to slip into as the back of your hand. There’s no hurry, just the two of you moving languidly—whispering against skin, giggles turning into sighs and breathy moans. Sometimes, being with Wanda feels like a desperate need, as if not having her completely would literally be the end of you. But it’s moments like these that are your favorite—the ones where you’re barely even trying, yet she still comes apart at your touch, at the mere feeling of your fingers on her. 

Eventually, you both settle down, a contented sigh escaping you as you curl up against Wanda, your skin slightly damp with the effort of your love. You like this, being the little spoon, hiding your face in her neck like you’re hiding from the world, though you vaguely recall a time when it was usually her in your arms. 

As you’re staggering on the edge of sleep, Wanda’s fingers gently massage your scalp, her lips dropping soft, pensive kisses on your forehead. You're almost out, but one last question keeps you from drifting off entirely.

“Wanda, that spell earlier that shrunk the boys—what was that about?” you mumble, your words slurring into the dream nipping at your consciousness.

Wanda’s laughter rumbles through her chest, nudging you slightly from your drowsy state.

“Come on, tell me,” you coax, giving her side a playful pinch to keep her talking.

“It’s embarrassing,” she mumbles, her face turning a delightful shade of pink again that spreads down her neck and chest. Her coy reaction wakes you up some more. As a twisted kind of payback, you run your tongue rough over her nipple, snatching a sharp gasp from her. Moving up, you hold her flushed cheek, making sure she’s looking right at you. Your thigh presses between hers, and it doesn’t take long before she’s wet and ready again.

“Are you going to tell me, or do you plan on sleeping with a wet pussy tonight?” you whisper, brushing your lips against the corner of her mouth. Under different circumstances, Wanda would scold you for your crudeness, but right now, she's too worked up to care. Your dirty mouth has always been one of the most irritating yet irresistible things about you. Even having kids hasn’t changed that.

“I was trying to... enchant your...” she starts, but then your hand tightens on her butt, spurring her subtle grinding movements. By this time, she’s practically dripping onto the sheets, her thoughts scattering as the tightening sensation below her stomach builds.

“My what?” you push, smirking as you watch her fumble for words. You hoist her leg, resting it on your shoulder, laying her wide open. You slide two fingers inside her, fucking her slowly while your thumb brutally circles her clit. As she hesitates to answer, you hook in another finger, drawing a sharp cry of pleasure from Wanda. Your gaze stays locked on your wife, a part of you as surprised as she might be at your boldness tonight.

All day, she’s haunted every corner of your mind, fantasizing about stealing a quick, desperate moment while the twins are asleep or at Agnes’s. But there’s been something—an unnameable restraint—holding you back from indulging those wicked impulses. It isn’t until the boys are asleep, the house quiet, that those invisible chains start to loosen. That’s when you can finally allow yourself to desire Wanda the way you really want to. The way you’ve always been meant to.

“Your... clit,” Wanda finally spits out, seeing you've drifted off, stuck in your head. “I thought I could make it... well, longer. Like a...” She chokes on the words, too embarrassed to finish.

“Like a cock?” you throw out crudely, looking down at her impishly.

Wanda nods, mortified but also a little defiant. “Wanted you to fuck me with it,” she mumbles, finding her backbone now that the secret's in the open.

“I am fucking you,” you whisper hotly right into her ear. “But if you want it like that, all you have to do is say the word.”

Wanda clenches around you at the thought of doing it like that in the near future, her breath hitching. “Please,” she mewls, the word dripping with need. 

“Good girl,” you growl, cranking up the pace as you drive your fingers harder inside her, making her gasp and arch towards you. “You can come.”

With a choked whimper, Wanda surrenders, her body seizing as her orgasm washes over her. She soaks your wrist, the clear fluid trickling down onto the sheets, but you don't stop, pushing through every pulse of her release until she's quaking, utterly wrecked beneath you. You patiently wait until her spasms subside before slowly pulling your fingers away.

Wanda's hand shoots out, stopping your movements. “Stay,” she implores, sounding like she's on the verge of tears. You're momentarily startled by her reaction, concerned something might be wrong. Swiftly, you slide your fingers back where they belong, nestled deep inside her.

“Okay, baby, I’m not going anywhere,” you murmur, pushing back the damp strands of hair sticking to her forehead with your free hand. Exhaustion begins to cloud your senses as you sink down beside Wanda, still keeping your hand where she wants it. 

“I'm sorry for needing you so much,” Wanda murmurs, her voice shaky with tears you can't see, your cheek pressed against the pillow beside hers.

“Don't be,” you mumble, half-lost to sleep as she clings to you more tightly. “I’m here.”

“You love me,” she says, a hint of wonder, of fear.

You nod, lips brushing the nape of her neck. “And you love me,” you murmur back, your eyes slipping shut. “I'm not going anywhere, Wanda.”

“For now,” she whispers to herself, once your breathing evens out in sleep.

Tears betray her then, and she clamps a hand over her mouth to keep quiet. But just before her sobs fully break free, she flicks a finger, a thin red wisp of magic ensuring you stay deep in sleep.

With you unaware, Wanda surrenders to her grief.

[strandedtoodeep]

Poolverine fics rec' ✨

Yes, FINALLY.

So, basically what the title said: some poolverine's fics recommendation because i have nearly 100 bookmarks and sharing is caring so let's go!

I'll put title, link, tag the author (if they are on tumblr), numbers of words & chapters and probably silly summary or thoughts

I'll be adding some in the future with a red exclamation❗

The one without smut have a bunny emoji 🐰

My faves are on top

If you have some recs i'm happy to take them thank you 🤲

Faves

Come Hell or High Water by @farmhandler 84k, 11 ch. || love when a fic take mental health seriously and talk about it in a way that feel so right? (bonus the smut is *chef's kiss*

Promise Me We'll Be Back In Time by @back4destiel 108k, 17 ch. || 50 First Dates was one of my favorite movie when i was a preteen (yeah) so this fic fill me with nostalgia and happiness

where soul meets body by @edgebug 33k, 3 ch. || one of my first poolverine's fic and it sets the bar so HIGH (and tbh i cried so much reading it, it's concerning)

silence is what i do best (but still i hear it all) by @cainroses 25k, 3 ch. || feral! logan is very dear to me and the character's voices in it?? absolutely delightful (beware the smut is very good but spicy)

Until you get sick of me, honestly by @3koboldsinahoodie 101k, 20ch. (on going) || i love it so much i want to forget it and discovers it again, the peak of two idiots in love it's beautiful

whoever makes my baby cry (is gonna lose some teeth tonight) by @wickedscribbles 16k, 4 ch. || love some genderplay, bottom and protective logan, my dear, i love it but most importantly the writings is scrumptious

The Void by @rovingotter 115k, 23 ch. || i'm still trying to process what i feel with this fic, please please read this blindly and i assure you, you'll never be the same

The Soundtrack by @greatsnakestintin 39k, 14 ch. (on going) || love a good road trip fic, love music so it's absolutely perfect for me! and the plot is so?? fascinating???

Kaleidoscope by Space_wanderer 69k, 13 ch. (on going) || CHAPPELL ROAN REFERENCE! when Logan is such a idiot Wade need to go get him AGAIN in his universe

Don't you want me to run? by @decaying-lover 54k, 17 ch. (on going) || if you love angst, this fic will serve you ANGST! love their dynamics, the tension, their voices, everything

On going

Girl Dads by @starburstsobsessions 35k, 14 ch. || AU poolverine's fic are fire and this one, THIS ONE, omg! this fic makes my dream (aka seeing dilf! logan) a reality

Somewhere I belong by @terrasilvershade 24k, 6ch. || another girls dad AU but this one, my god!!! the feels?? it's so interesting to see Logan being envious and it's writing so well

Baby(girl) Don't Hurt Me by @peargreen-jellybean 16k, series with 4 works || 4 fics and i love them all! some good poolverine pining & domestic bliss + men in lingeries (my weakness)

In Another Life by @flash-bastardd 32k, 10 ch. || x-men origins but better! (bc it's gay) i have some feelings with this movie but this fic healed me and i love it!

🐰 Take Me Through the Darkness to the Break of the Day by The_Colour_Yellow 16k, 9 ch. || a very good fic around hanahaki disease with my two favorites idiots??? sign me in! even with so much hurt and angst UGH

call me when you’re ready to be real by @maroonmused 23k, 9 ch. || "and they were roommates" ofc like it's not absolutely obvious for EVERYONE except themself; a very good domestic bliss!

Don't Want To Be A Fool For You by @cuntylogan 45k, 2 ch. || bartender! logan who try to fight his addiction (and slowly fall in love) has a special place in my heart, you go boy

How To Pay For Rent 💸 by @fictionfeast 42k, 3 ch. || this fic feels like a fever dream, but a OH SO GOOD and well writing fever dream! (ngl as a french person Craig List scares me)

Complete

🐰 the dollhouse by @kanashikute 4k, OS || love the fluffiness in this fic, love how Logan accept to love, be loved and doesn't left Wade behind UGH they're so cute in this one!!!

🐰 Glass Shards by greaserbabes 9k, 2 ch. || always love when Logan and Wade are SO STUPIDLY in love; ngl the scene with the glass shards make me cry every time

🐰 The Folly Of Playing Gay Chicken Too Hard (Phrasing) by GayLord3000 3k, OS || the domestic fic where Wade is the stupid one, being so stupid in fact it's nearly cost him his relationship with Logan whoops

Love shot by lillygoeson 28k, 6ch. || another bartender! logan one, but AU no powers AND with a good "twist" in the middle; this fic is so bittersweet and good oml

look at you by @weedwilson 3k, OS || yes it's shameless smut and mirror sex, my beloved... and I LOVE when Logan worshipping Wade this much bc he deserves it

It's Just Chemistry by @farmhandler 37k, 5 ch. || in the same universe of Come Hell or High Water, there is so... so much angst but it's very good angst!!! still love this specific dynamic

🐰 We Should Just Kiss (Like Real People Do) by @nikaandtea 8k, OS || HOZIER REFERENCE! i'm still so happy when a fic talk about chronic pain combined with domestic bliss i'm totally sold

Night Terrors by educatedwish 50k, 13 ch. || love how Logan is written is this fic, how PTSD messed with his feelings in a serious way... my heart melt everytime i read it

second nature to me now by @edgebug 36k, OS || a investigation in a gay club??? with my two idiots in love?? and with old gay Logan? i giggled so hard reading this, i LOVE IT

🐰 It Feels Like Home by @twentyghosts 10k, 6 ch. || one of my favorite trope is the 5+1 and this one... my god, right in the feels! so much fluffiness, coziness, it warm my heart

🐰 stuck by the glue (oh and you) by prngslvr 3k, OS || a good rewriting of (some scenes) from DP&W, and one of my first fluff and non-smut fic that i read after watching the movie!

Let Me Get Back to You by ratflavored 14k, 2 ch. || pls i want to read more fics with phone sex in it (i know it's specific) but in the meantime, this one is SO good (and full of feels too)

tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow by signifier 10k, OS || i have a thing for time loop and this kind of fuckery, it's short but good and i love the title it make me chuckles

Oh, God, I Think I'm Fallin' by @slut-arc 15k, 5 ch. || the return of domestic poolverine and YES I KNOW but it's my weakness... and Logan is so emotionally constipated it's concerning

the bucket list by @kanashikute 33k, 4 ch. || read this one, please, really, it's so bittersweet BUT i promise there's a good ending (and i cried so much while reading it)

🐰 he’s the headlights, I’m the deer by NatalieK 7k, OS || it's interesting to see Logan's losing his healing factor for once instead of Wade! and seeing Wade taking care of him, my heart

🐰 holding out for a hero by @splinnters 6k, 3 ch. || once again, i have a soft spot for Logan trusting Wade so much he called him when something is wrong and this, THIS is good

🐰 I've got some color back (he thinks so too) by @mid13s 3k, OS || just a short fic with non-sexual intimacy because these two need comfort, hugs and a lot of affection (and the Hozier reference is chef's kiss)

[moosesarecute]

Day 3: Belonging

@azrielappreciationweek

Masterlist

Azriel loved his family.

He loved his mother, but rarely saw her. He refused to bring her any danger when he knew she couldn’t protect herself.

He loved his brothers. Even though he has had different arguments with both of them lately, he loved them.

He loved Amren, Mor, Feyre, Elain and Nesta.

His entire family gave him joy.

But he was missing someone. Someone that was just his. His mother had never been able to raise him. Rhys and Cass were friends before he came along. Rhys’ mother was exactly that, Rhys’. Mor chose Cass and all the Archeron sisters had mates that wasn’t him.

He was always the second choice.

He knew they loved him back and did their best to include him, but they would never prioritize him over their mates. And he understood that, but it wasn’t enough.

He needed to be the first choice.

That’s why he loved you more than anything and also why he chose to keep you a secret.

He knew his family would never take you away from him, but he hated the thought of even sharing the amazing relationship the two of you had with others.

You had now been dating for two years. And it was the two most amazing years of his life.

If he had a bad day, you were there to hold him. If he had a good day, you were there to be happy with him. And if he had a normal day, you were there to make it perfect.

He had lost count of the days he had come home to a freshly cooked dinner and your smiling face.

You loved to cook in your free time and even though Azriel often urged you to let him help you in the kitchen, the answer was always the same: “I love to cook, Az. It’s my way of unwinding.”

So he let you have the cooking and he did the dishes. It worked for the two of you.

“Are you even listening?” Rhysand asked him.

Mission, Illyria, two weeks, female training

Thank the mother for his shadows.

“You want me to spend two weeks in Illyria making sure the females are training,” he answered with a neutral tone. “I listen, but isn’t this more of Cassian’s expertise?”

He did not want to leave you for two weeks. In only one week was your two years anniversary and he had planned something special.

“Cassian is going on the same mission, but he’s taking half the camps and you’re taking the other half,” Rhys explained. “Spending a month every time we have to make sure the females are training isn’t going to work, so we are trying this solution.”

He only nodded.

Even though he hated to miss your anniversary, he just couldn’t let Rhys know about you just yet.

“Thank you, Az,” Rhys answered. “Can you start tomorrow?”

It had been two weeks without Azriel. A week since your anniversary. And even though you knew why he wanted to keep you a secret, you still hated the fact that you were alone on your anniversary.

So to say you were excited for him to return was an understatement.

You were almost blooming in happiness. You had made his favorite dinner and dessert and made sure the food was ready for nine o’clock. He said he would be back at nine o’clock.

But then it turned nine fifteen and then half past nine and then ten and then eleven.

You knew Azriel well enough to know that he would have let you know if he knew he would be late.

But you had gotten no message.

So you started pacing.

And cleaning.

You ate without him. You read your book. You knitted. And you took a bath.

And finally, at three o’clock in the morning, you heard the door to your house close.

You basically ran towards the front door and were immediately met by a wall of shadows.

They embraced you, looked over your entire body for injuries and pulled you towards their master.

“Az?” You asked carefully.

“I’m sorry for coming home so late,” he answered with a tired voice.

The shadows had now pulled you so that you stood only half a meter away from Azriel.

His leathers were ripped and his head was heavy.

“What happened?” You asked him with a gasp.

Before he could answer you had already slipped on your shoes and started dragging him out the door.

“Y/N,” he said and tried to hold you back. “I’m fine.”

You stopped in your tracks.

“Az,” you started with a sigh. “Love, you can’t even stop me, a female half your size, from dragging you to the clinic. I think we both know you’re not fine.”

He let you win the argument and went along to the clinic. He walked worriedly slow and every now and then he let out a painful whimper. He even had difficulties holding his wings up from the ground.

You had just gotten to the clinic and sat down in the examination room, when you felt his hand go limp and looked up to see his eyes closed.

“Az?” You asked and shook him carefully. He gave no reaction.

You didn’t even think before you ran out of the room and found the closest healer.

Three healers rushed into his room and started working. They healed many small wounds and a bigger one on his back, before they bandaged some of the deeper ones.

You couldn’t look away from his face. He looked so peaceful, it felt so wrong knowing he was harmed.

“He’ll be okay,” one of the healers said to you. “You’re Y/N, right?”

You looked up at the healer from the chair you sat in. She knew about you? You didn’t think Azriel had told anyone about you.

“He usually asks for you right after waking up,” she told you as an answer to your confusion. “I’ll have to contact the High Lord. He’ll want to know his shadowsinger is safe.”

You nodded at the healer and spent as long time as possible beside Azriel, holding his hand and cuddling his hair, before you went back home, alone.

If he needed you to be a secret, you would be.

Azriel woke with a deep breath.

“Y/N?” He asked aloud with a groggy voice.

“Az?”

He couldn’t hold back the disappointment in hearing his brother’s voice and not yours.

He opened his eyes and was met with both of his brothers nervous stares.

Rhys handed him a glas of water and Cassian helped him sit up, even though he didn’t need help.

“You scared us there, Az,” Rhys said. “You had poison in your blood.”

Even though he heard Rhys’ words, he simply couldn’t understand what he was talking about.

The only thing he remembered was shadow walking home to you. He remembered making sure you were okay and that you dragged him to the clinic without even a hug or kiss.

But where were you now?

Y/N?

Home, safe, worried

His shadows saved him from going mad from worry.

“Az?” Cassian’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. He looked over to his brother. “Who’s Y/N?”

Azriel struggled to not show his surprise and confusion. How did he know about you?

“You’ve been muttering that name in your sleep,” Rhys explained and Azriel understood that they already knew who you are. “We’re sorry if you haven’t felt like you could tell us.”

“Yeah,” Cassian agreed. “We haven’t been prioritizing you and we’ve hated ourselves for it. Hope you can forgive us and let us have a new chance.”

Azriel didn’t know how to respond. He felt seen and understood. It felt nice. He felt ready even though he dreaded having to explain his feelings.

“Y/N is my girlfriend,” he started to explain. “We’ve been together for two years now and I didn’t want anyone to know because-“

“We understand Az,” Rhys interrupted him. “You wanted her for yourself. You don’t need to explain unless you want to.”

Relief grew from his body.

But he knew he wouldn’t feel okay until you were in his arms.

“Can one of you maybe get Y/N and bringer her here?” He asked carefully.

“Where is she?” Cassian asked as he jumped up from his chair and got ready to leave.

You woke from a knock at your door. It had been a long and anxious night not knowing how Azriel’s doing and you hadn’t realized you fell asleep.

Another knock made you sit up in the couch.

You knew it wasn’t Azriel, he had stopped knocking ages ago.

But you had a good feeling and went to open the door anyway.

“Hello,” a large illyrian male you realized had to be Cassian said.

“Hello?” You answered confused.

“There’s an awake shadowsinger that really wants you to come visit him.”

You had to hold back a squeal when you realized Azriel had told his family about you. And you immediately got ready to go to the clinic.

Cassian walked in front of you into the room and then pulled the High Lord out so that you and Azriel could be alone. It was absurd.

“Hi,” Azriel said.

His voice made you melt a little and you rushed towards him to give him a hug and kisses.

“Don’t ever do that again,” you said as you kissed his entire face. “You scared me.”

“I’m sorry,” Azriel answered and moved to embrace you as well. “You know I’ll always come home to you, right?”

You nodded into his chest.

“I don’t like being away from you,” you whispered. “I think we belong together.”

Shadow started playing with your hair as Azriel became more and more relaxed.

“I know we do.”

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[rhube]

This is something I think about a lot too. I completely understand why people want to destigmatise mental illness by stopping people using diagnoses in a derogatory manner. But. Speaking as someone who has had multiple mental illnesses for a really long time, the insistence that we never talk about any behaviours as crazy or insane - or sometimes even only tangentially related words like batshit - ignores the fact that there words WEREN'T solely used to stigmatised the mentally ill in the past. There's a lot of behaviours and thoughts that average, basically mentally healthy people engage in that overlap with or ar identical to things mentally ill people do. The difference is degree, proximity to other symptoms, and the extent to which they interfere with daily life. It's actually very useful to be able to say a person (including oneself) is a bit crazy without using the term negatively. But now we have to trip over ourselves to find a word for this overlap area of behaviours and thoughts.

Which is why I usually prefer to differentiate between more generic terms and actual diagnoses. Yes, 'psychotic' as a pejorative is not OK. This extends to things like 'sociopath' and 'psychopath', which a lot of people seem to both think are real diagnoses and OK to use as a pejorative. The terms themselves are not generally given these days as diagnoses and it's debatable whether you can separate out people with empathy disorders into these categories, but there are real people who struggle to empathise with others who, contrary to what you may have heard in a think pieces about CEOs and bad managers, are not typically bad people who do bad things to other people.

There is a problem with some of the language we use about mental health, but I'm not sure the solution is to remove the generic words that are inclusive of behaviours seen in healthy people from circulation.

It is sometimes helpful to say that someone's beliefs have deviated from reality even if you don't think they have specific symptom clusters that relate to a mental illness.

And I also just want to second the point that experiences and symptoms do not belong solely to one diagnosis. This is what's so damaging about these posts that go around being like, 'The uniquely X experience of Y'.

Like, I have depression and have had it most of my life. People with bipolar disorder also experience depression. We have an overlap of symptoms. But our diagnoses are very different. I have never had a manic episode and I never will. That's not better or worse than being overwhelmingly depressed, it's just that there is a very clear difference to the mechanism that gives us some of the same experiences.

See also the way that a lot of the symptoms I see attributed to only autistic people or only people with ADHD are also symptoms you can have from an anxiety disorder or PTSD. And some people have several conditions that can all cause the same or very similar problems. It doesn't help anyone to sort out what's going on with them to say 'only x people experience y'.

That doesn't mean you can't say, 'you might be x if you experience y', you just gotta recognise that there is a harm in saying, 'the uniquely x experience of y'.

Very often it's not unique and you are alienating and hurting people who experience the same thing as you for different reasons.

there's a lot to be said about how the average person indulges in delusions far more than anyone is really comfortable grappling with. every now and again, a poll comes out that reveals some sort of number of people who believe they have magical powers, usually pretty high, and everyone takes turns making fun of it and affirming their own Sanity

this is more observational than scientific, but it really does seem like writing off delusional thinking as the realm of the "insane" creates this valley where the "normal" person's thinking (especially a person who considers themself normal, but that's a whole other kettle of fish) must be more empirical, because, categorically, they are not insane

[rottenfyre]

⸻ ᴀ ʟ ᴡ ᴀ ʏ ꜱ ᴍ ɪ ɴ ᴇ ⸻

Pairing: Dark Maegor I Targaryen x Fem Reader

Summary: You were always his. From the moment you were born. And it's going to stay that way, whatever you like it or not.

Warning: Targcest, Graphic depictions of violence, Non con, Maegor himself is a warning.

Notes: English is not my first language. Art belong to dalberadiata. Hope you enjoy!

Maegor kicked a rock with all the strength his young body could muster, the jagged stone skittering across the ground and disappearing into the brush. His chest heaved with frustration, his fists clenched at his sides, and his face contorted in a mask of anger.

But no matter how much he trained, no matter how hard he fought, his father’s gaze always passed over him. Like he wasn’t even there.

His foot slammed into another rock, as he ground his teeth in fury. He wanted to be king. He would be king. One day, they would all see—his father, his brother—all of them would see.

“Boo!”

A voice, sweet and sudden, pulled him from his thoughts. His body stiffened as he turned, already prepared to strike, but it was only her. His sister, always sneaking up on him, always playing her games. She popped out from behind a tree, her eyes sparkling with mischief, a playful grin on her lips.

“Did I scare you, Maegor?” she teased, laughing softly as she plopped herself down beside him on the grass without waiting for a response.

He didn’t flinch, didn’t smile. Of course, he wasn’t scared. His hands flexed at his sides, still shaking with the remnants of his anger. He wasn’t in the mood for her games. Not today.

But she didn’t seem to notice. She never did. Instead, she sat beside him, her fingers absentmindedly plucking at the flowers that dotted the ground. She hummed softly, her hands busy weaving stems together as if there wasn’t a care in the world.

“I’ll be king one day,” he muttered, his voice low, angry. His fists tightened as he stared ahead, his vision still blurry with unshed tears. “You’ll see. I’ll be a great king. Someone important. Stronger than father. Stronger than anyone.”

She nodded, but he could tell she wasn’t listening. She never really listened when he talked about his plans. She was too busy with her flowers, too lost in her own world of pretty things and laughter. He frowned, watching as she twisted the stems in her delicate hands, her smile never faltering.

“What are you doing?” he snapped, his frustration bubbling up again.

She looked up at him then, her eyes wide, as if his anger didn’t bother her at all. Her smile only grew, and she held up the thing she had been working on. “Done!” she announced, her voice soft and sweet, like the sound of a gentle breeze. She leaned over and placed it on his head—a crown of flowers, woven with care, resting lopsided on his dark hair.

Maegor blinked, confused, his anger momentarily forgotten. He reached up to touch the crown, his brows furrowing as he tried to understand what she had done.

“What is this?”

She smiled at him, that same sweet, soft smile that always made something in his chest ache. “Even if you don’t become king, you’re still my king, Maegor.” Her voice was full of warmth, full of love. “Always.”

He stared at her, the confusion in his eyes deepening. She was always like this—so full of life, so bright. Too bright for someone like him. Too soft for a world as harsh as theirs. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to respond.

But now, when he looked at her, the only thing that remained was death.

Her body was cold in his arms, a shell of the girl she used to be. Her eyes, once full of light, now stared blankly ahead, her mouth silent as always. But that was alright. She didn’t need to speak. She didn’t need to smile.

He still loved her.

Even like this.

She was dressed in beautiful silk, her hair brushed and perfect, her lips still stained with the remnants of the last kiss he’d given her earlier. She looked like a doll. Fragile. Beautiful. Untouched. He dragged his hand down her neck, savoring the coldness of her skin, feeling the shiver of pleasure that ran through him.

But the silk? That was a pity. He was going to rip that apart anyway.

He pulled her into his lap, her body limp and pliant, her head lolling to the side as he pressed his lips to her neck. He bit down, hard, savoring the taste of her skin, his teeth sinking in deep enough to draw blood. His hand slid between her legs, fingers pushing against her cunt, trying to get her wet. She didn’t move, didn’t react, but he didn’t care. She would be ready for him. She had to be.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered into her skin, his voice dark and rough as he kissed along her neck, his bites growing harder, more savage. “You’ll give me a son. A true son. Something none of those useless cunts could do.” His fingers moved faster, harder, forcing her body to respond. “We’ll name him Aegon. After father. What do you think?”

He pulled back, his eyes gleaming as he looked at her face. Her tears were falling now, silent as always, sliding down her cheeks like the rain.

Oh, right. He had cut her tongue out.

He laughed then, a deep, guttural sound that echoed in the room. How could he have forgotten? She had screamed, hadn’t she? Begged him to stop, to leave her alone. She didn’t want to be his wife. She didn’t want him. But that hadn’t mattered. Not to him. He had made sure she couldn’t refuse him ever again.

He wiped her tears with his thumb, pushing it into her mouth as he did. “It’s alright,” he whispered, his voice soft, mocking. “I love you still. I like you more like this.”

Then he kissed her, hard and rough, his mouth devouring hers as his hand gripped her neck, holding her in place. She didn’t kiss back, didn’t move, but he didn’t care. He didn’t need her to.

He shoved himself inside her, his thrusts brutal, each one harder than the last. Her body didn’t fight him, didn’t resist. She took him in silence, her tears falling faster now, her eyes empty as they stared at the ceiling. But Maegor didn’t stop. He pounded into her, growling with each thrust, determined to make her his in every possible way.

“You're mine,” he snarled, his voice low and dangerous as he fucked her harder. “Always have been and always will be.”

She didn’t respond. She never did. But that was fine.

When he was done, when her body was limp and unconscious beneath him, he pulled out, only to push his seed back inside her, forcing it deeper, making sure she would carry it.

“You’ll be a mother,” he whispered, his hand pressing against her stomach, possessive. “The mother of my child.”

His.

Always his.

@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ

[gale-gentlepenguin]

Epic What if

(What if Odysseus chose his crew?)

-The events of the story won’t change much at the beginning. But there is one small part.

-Odysseus feels a twinge of guilt still. The song “Monster” didn’t help him completely embrace ruthlessness.

-And so the events leading up to the mutiny and thunderbringer are the same.

-But one key difference was when Zeus asked Odysseus what he’d choose.

-“You, or your crew.”

-Zeus believed he knew the answer. The crew that had just betrayed Odysseus. The man desperate to see his wife. It seemed so obvious.

-But Odysseus’s next statement came as shocking.

-“If I choose my crew… would you let them get back to ithica?”

-Eurylochus realized what he was asking.

-Zeus, being the thunderbringer, smiles

-“They would get to Ithica, but your journey ends here. You will no longer have your kingdom.”

-Odysseus takes a minute, he takes a piece of paper and writes something. He hands it to him.

-“Give this to my wife.”

-Eurylochus speaks

-“Captain wait!?”

-Zeus was surprised by the call. But is seems he swallowed Ody had swallowed his pride. In the end, he was just a man.

-Zeus Killed Odysseus. Leaving the crew on the boat.

-Zeus looks at the crew.

-He takes his lightning and blasts the back of the ship.

-Sending it flying and right to Ithica.

-Zeus decides to head back to Olympus. His work done.

-Eurylochus felt his heart ache. No one wanted to get home more than his best friend… yet when the time came to choose, he chose them. The crew that betrayed him.

-He looked at the note. He noticed there was a second note. One for him.

-He read it. A new song called ��To my friends.” Plays

-Tears fell from his eyes. But he wiped them.

-“Raise my son to be a king better than me.”

-“I will Ody, on my life.”

-Eurylochus and the remains of the crew arrived at the palace. Where suitors had gathered. Antinious asked where the king was.

-Eurylochus said that Odysseus was dead.

-The suitors cheered, Telemachus heard and was saddened. The 12 year old was left without a dad.

-Antinious was about to say it’s time for her to choose, only for Eurylochus cut his head off.

-The song “Wolf pack attack” replaces fight little wolf.

-The suitors were all killed by the remaining soldiers.

-Eurylochus goes to Penelope. And the next song. “I’m sorry.” Which is sung by Eurylochus to Penelope.

-Penelope vows to never marry. As only Odysseus was the one she loved.

-The next song is Eurylochus song to Telemachus. “What was he like.” Which is Eurylochus telling Telemachus about his father and the man that he was.

-several years later Telemachus is made king at 18. And he is the spitting image of Odysseus.

-He ends up befriending Athena, who feels guilt over Odysseus and decides to not make the same mistakes she did with Odysseus. The song “Like him.” Is played as Telemachus sings of how he is training to be like his father.

-Telemachus goes on an excursion for a diplomatic mission.

-Where Posideon appears. He thought he was Odysseus. And Telemachus knew who he was.

-The next song is Poseidon singing “Sins of the father.”

-Eurylochus was on that ship and protects Odysseus with his life. The last part of the song has Eurylochus die.

-Telemachus striking back. The song is called “Father son Strike” and thanks to Athena’s help. He manages to beat Poseidon. And like his father did in canon. He goes ham until he surrenders

-After that, Telemachus sings an alternate version of “Legendary”. In which he sings it about his father and Eurylochus.

-He heads home to Ithica, where he goes to rule over his kingdom.

[losrin]

;-; this is all i think about now when i see Grian-Mumbo interactions

if you look at earlier seasons Mumbo was always the first person Grian seeks out. being new in season 6, he's most reliant on Mumbo

in season 7 he dug a tunnel to link his and Mumbo's hobbit hole and sent nice messages to him all the time. made a bell so whenever Mumbo replies he'd know instantly. they always base next to/close to each other

and then season 9 happened. Mumbo took a long break. had his own life. went on trips, experienced life outside of Minecraft. He was away and Grian had to cope

I relate to this so much and as much as it sounds fanfiction-y this is angst that's too much for my heart. i hate to drift away from my friend, hate to seem too needy in case I drive them further away, and it hurts to think that while you were considering them your best friend, that person doesn't really reciprocate

for most people (monogamous), if someone's your partner there's an unspoken agreement that they're the most important and only partner in your life. but with friends it's difficult. you have to navigate your friendships based on your judgement of whether or not someone values you as much as you do them. and if you feel it proves not time and again, you get scared. the thing is, you don't want to lose that friend because they're dear to you. but you also start to branch out because you need friendship... and your best friend is unavailable. and you need a cushion, a safety net in case it's not only in your head. you find more friends

when you're the unavailable best friend who's now back, and realise that OH my best friend's life went on without me, OH now they have more friends, OH maybe they don't need me anymore. and it's MY fault. I was away. ME. I went away and I can't expect everything to stay the same for me. I don't deserve my bestie's full attention because when they needed it I couldn't give it. I didn't give it. It's MY fault

i always feel this tension in every Mumbo-Grian interaction since season 10. and it's honestly like stepping on egg shells. unspoken words behind jokes and laughters. a faint heartache that you can't share with others because

a) it's your best friend! who are you gonna share this friendship problem with??

bi) you don't want to appear needy

bii) it was my fault

I honestly don't want to read too much into this, because it makes me sad and makes me feel delusional. Hermitcraft should be my happy place. but I can never stop my brain...

It's fun when it's fictional, when we explore the angst through stories, but it sucks to imagine anyone actually feeling like this

about the mumbo’s “I’m all the friend that you need”.

I remembered something from the start of hc s10.

mumbo: — tell me, why are you here? are you gonna k- are you working on behalf of someone? are you gonna kill me? is that-

iskall: — no! you said this yesterday as well- mumbo! you are like my best friend! and I don’t have many friends. and I would not kill my one friend that I have!

mumbo: — say that to grian! cause grian came over yesterday, he’s not even the red name and he tried to kill me.

iskall: — but he’s got lots of friends!

oh something happened. something happened there this season. something spiralling into mumbo’s brain there from the start.

mumbo rarely interacted even with his minimum of friends in the early seasons, preferring solitude and redstone. and grian completely changed that. he appeared at mumbo’s bases at any given time without a warning, gradually leaving more and more pleasant words about what mumbo creates and that he is generally missed when he disappears. mumbo has never encountered anything like this,

but you get used to good things quickly, right?

and then he disappears for so long that upon his return grian realizing that it was hard to live with a focus on only one particular person who was not around all the time. and naturally decides to devote more time to other people in order to drown out this sadness for the person. maybe he was too intrusive for mumbo? now he's going to awkwardly avoid him because he thinks that mumbo doesn't really need him that much because he leaves him so often?

meanwhile, mumbo thinks that he is letting grian down, or has already let him down completely, since grian decides to be with his other friends more than with him.

and mumbo does not yet know that the doc’s perimeter war in s9 began simply because doc dared to tell grian that he would never be mumbo's best friend. because grian keeps it close to his heart and hasn't told anyone. especially mumbo. the buttercups started because of «there can only be ONE (best friend) …and it is not YOU!”

[lara4eclipze]

so I was thinking if you could maybe write a Megan × fem reader where they're Roblox girlfriends and decided to meet up irl (idk I just think it would be so cute haha)

“Roblox?”

— ( 💻 ) "maybe we should meet irl lol" Megan chats , "why not?" you reply

— ( 🎧 ) online dating , fluff , swearing, LEWSERR , cuties , established relationship (girlfriends)

— ( 🎮 ) ackk I love this request!!, it fits Megan so well :)) love you anon!! , made this longer than I expected lololol

stranger danger is something you know and apply in your life — you can never really trust people online especially when you haven't seen how they look or know much about them

but that rule just gets broken whenever you play Roblox , the whole thing of Roblox is meeting and playing games with strangers online

sometimes you're lucky with who you meet but most times not — it was worth the risk for you , instead of getting bored

Mei_Berry05:hii ^^

y/nniee_06: helloo!!

"I love her avatar" you murmur to yourself as she approaches you — your avatar was... something! compared to hers

you were playing adopt me who cares what you wear— but she was cute the way she typed was very nice

Mei_Berry05: can we be friends??

y/nniee_06: yeah sure! (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

and just like that you two became friends, over the span of a few weeks she would always match with you—join the games your playing and buy you robux whenever you wanted a gamepass

ding

she was honestly so cute , but you always wondered how she looked like or how she was in real life god knows she might just be a old man behind the screen

∞

a notification rings your cellphone, it was her!, "can we play mimic??" you read her chat — you weren't really that good in horror games but you'll be with her anyways it's okay

y/nniee_06: Sure!!! — I'll just set up my laptop :))

Mei_Berry05: okayy just join me when you're ready

"okay meii" you replied as if she was listening to you , you open your laptop blinded by the screen brightness

you join the game greeted by her jumping and emoting Infront of you , you giggle as you see her reaction

Mei_Berry05: hi!! ^_^

y/nniee_06: heyyoo! , lets play :]

Mei_Berry05: okay follow me

she chats jumping up and down in the game , the game was fun and very hard — you had to repeat the same level almost 7 times , megan practically carried you throughout the game , soon enough you felt very bored of the game the overuse of jumpscares just made you sick of it

Mei_Berry05: wanna play adopt me?

Mei_Berry05: please?? :((

you can practically see her frowning even in real life so you immediately agreed — plus as immature as it sounds you loved adopt me

y/nniee_06: okayy , join me! <3

you type enthusiastically on your laptop , the keyboard was beat up by the amount of times you typed this fast and hard

the game was fun you both scammed some kids , and bought the recent egg the ocean egg , hatched it and got a legendary octopus!

Mei_Berry05: soo can I ask you something?

y/nniee_06: yeahh? why what is it??

Mei_Berry05: can you be my g!rlfri3nd? :>

you were taken a back, maybe because you didn't expect it or more on because you two only knew each other online and it's not even on social media but on roblox

y/nniee_06: YESS!! , so can we? match fits?!?

you chat back smiling to yourself in real life — you wait as she types in chat

Mei_Berry05: YAYY (⁠ﾉ⁠≧⁠∇⁠≦⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠ , yes we could match fits!! ### sm

you laugh as her chat gets tagged , it was three letters so probably "ily" i love you , aww

"pulling a girl , but in roblox" you chuckle to yourself , the first relationship you had was built in roblox not only that but in adopt me

weeks and weeks pass by and not a single one ended without you two playing some random game on Roblox sometimes you both just chat about your day— you didn't know much about her other than she was in Hawaii and she loves dancing

∞

Mei_Berry05: I'm actually in LA rn!

y/nniee_06: oogofmdi I live in LA WDYMMM?? UR HERE?

your heart was about to jump out of your chest with how excited you were , were you gonna meet her finally?

Mei_Berry05: maybe we should meet irl!!

y/nniee_06: why not?

and just like that you two started planning where and when you two would meet it was nerve wracking to say the least — you were gonna see your girlfriend! , but you weren't sure if it was safe..

∞

"I'm so nervous what the fuck" you mutter to yourself as you wait for her , you both agreed to meet in the local café near you , you sat down and already ordered a croissant and a iced mocha

everytime someone new entered the cafe your heart raced , but then she walked in — she had this calming and soft aura to herself

"hi! — y/n!!!" she exclaims as you wave your hand at her , she runs up to you hugging you

"hi mei!" you replied back , she was so cute , the slight tint of pink to her cheeks and that cute smile gosh your actually gonna die

you two talk about life and other things laughing at the first time you two met , and how you two were girlfriends in roblox

∞

after a long day you two walk in the breezy night , with ice cream to both your hands , her fingers interlocked with you as if she's afraid you'll float away

"i love you , i really do" megan whispers loud enough for you to hear , "I never would've imagined how much I'll love you more when I met you"

"I love you too—promise me you'll visit me more often 'kay?" you replied as you felt all warm inside a contrast to the cold whether

as you stop in front of the city fountain you lean your head onto her shoulders, enjoying the quiet company she provided, the warmth she made you feel

you look at her , she looks at you her face scrunched up as she tries to analyze what you were thinking — a beat passes by and you meet her lips with yours , hers was sweet and soft it felt right it was right

she smiles into the kiss , and holds onto your nape prolonging it , "I love you" megan mutters your foreheads pressed against each other , "I love you too" you replied

[tang3r1n]

ᴄʀᴀᴄᴋ ʙᴀʙʏ

cw; 18+, heavy topics ngl, refrences to poverty and starvation, angst, GAY LESBIAN SEX, slight cannibalism symbolism if you squint rly hard, refrences to sex work and/or sexual assault

A/N: abt 900 words and literally cranked this bitch out in lile half an hour. jesus fuck how in the hell did Sevika bring me out of my fucking writing dry spell. what the actual fuck. i haven’t written in a year and ofc when i do it’s fucked up analogies and lesbian sex.

To be born of the cursed flesh is a cruel fate worse than death.

To be born as a tainted babe, cast out from the womb with vile stares and scornful words, is the most unlucky a child could be.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t just. She’d loved her life good, honest, she deserved the fruits of her labor, a young life filled with pain and struggle. But she was that of the unfavored, not the blessed ones of Piltover, not the nobles with their mansions or the Council with their riches. She was impoverished, born starved, raised hungry, grown into a ravenous woman who begged for the moresles of candied love the scum around her shoved down her throat or inside her.

She lived to survive, didn’t have time for anything outside of the coins thrown her way and the scraps she fed from. Ironic how she never looked the part; plump and soft, malleable and pliable, her hunger hidden beneath that syrupy, sugary smile that oh-so softly graced her cherub cheeks. She pranced around in fine silks and soft feathers, smoke and shimmer stinging her nose and eyes, ears never without the soft whines and moans that fluttered through the halls of the brothel.

Men were somehow more starved than she, their oafish bodies sweaty and fetid as they grabbed her with rough hands, uncaring of the bruises and marks that grew, staining her already tainted body. She loathed them, pushing her brain to the clouds of smoke circling overhead as she rode out whatever sick ride they put her on. The rides were never long, thankfully, mercifully, their essence all that remained once they stepped off with little more than a sideways glance and those same scornful words she learned years ago. Her bed was a sanctuary, a soft, pillowy escape where she could let her mind drift and fly away, she dreamed of soft touches and sweeter kisses, honeyed words and gentle smiles against her plush skin.

This woman above her, her tan skin and dark lips, soft breasts and firm muscles, rough hands caressing her like she was made of porcelain, felt like heaven. Her touch was better than shimmer, a rush incomparable to any human emotion, a religious awakening, it was invigorating. Men were hurtful, slapping and choking all while they shared the same blood and flesh that she had— but this woman, with her metal arm and scars, was slow and sybaritic, gluttonous how she sucked and kissed at her skin.

Long fingers pumped inside her, working choked gasps and impossibly soft moans from the cursed one’s mouth, curling inside her cunt to almost lazily press against that spot that made her dizzy, stomach twisting as her eyes fluttered shut. The woman’s voice was low and deep, chiding her for looking away, for her hips trying to worm away from this pleasure, “look at me,” the woman whispered, licking a stripe up her neck littered in hickeys. The other keened, hazy eyes half lidded as she looked up to her savior, the older woman grinned, wolfish and possessed, yet she didn’t feel fear. Not like she had before, the woman was all-consuming, dominating her very soul and suffocating her under that strong body built by the gods, yet she could only cry and cling to her skin, begging for more and more.

She was starved, and this woman, bringing her to climax, the sinfully delicious sounds of her own cunt squelching clashing with her pitiful cries, was feeding her. Feeding that bottomless pit she had been build with, feeding her with lips sloppily meshed together in a fucked up display of power and perversion. Feeding her with those dangerous fingers circling her pearl and filling her up. Feeding her with praise and love like a false prayer, flooding her mind with devotion and compassion she so desperately craved.

With the burst of her orgasm, she wailed, tugging on her savior’s messy hair as her body shook in pleasure. White blinded her as her glassy eyes rolled back, devilish smile fading away with a dark chuckle. The woman gently slipped her fingers from her cunt, a dull ‘pop!’ making her ears burn as she watched the woman suck on the soaked fingers. The woman’s eyes rolled back, a delicious moan rumbling from her chest and in that moment she wondered if this woman was starving too. If her savior craved just like she did, if this woman watched her with the same kind of hungry eyes as she did.

She was pulled into another sultry kiss, lips smooshed and smacking as they stole each other’s breath, wrapped up in each other’s arms. The woman pulled away first, keeping her close with a firm hand around her thick neck, string fingers ever so gently cutting off her oxygen, “such a pretty girl,” the woman whispered, a secret for just the two of them, “my new favorite treat.”

Born damned, she scavenged for love and life, but staring into those dark eyes, she saw the same hunger, the same damned flesh tangled up in her’s in a macabre display.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mission Control 24

Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, blood, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Captain Hydra

Summary: a man marches into your life on a mission

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

He’s leaving again. It’s harder now after everything. After that intruder. You shouldn’t want the soldier to stay but being alone is dangerous. He might be a threat on his own but he protects you all the same. It’s a twisted way to think of it but you could be the one he keeps safe or the one he tears apart tendon from toenail. 

He’s in his body armour, his cowl under his arm. You watch him march toward the door but he doesn’t reach it. He stops and looks at you. His eyes haven’t yet fully glazed over. You sit, paralysed for a moment, before you find some strength. 

You get up and cross to him, limping on your tender foot. It’s healing, slowly, but it will never be like before. You don’t know what to do. He’s blank as he looks back at you. 

You reach to squeeze his wrist, “I’ll be here.” That’s stupid. He knows you’re not going anywhere. He takes a deep breath and twists his hand up, slipping free of your grasp to latch on. He grips you tightly and dips his chin. His way of saying I will come back. 

He lets you go and faces the door. He pulls the cowl over his head and secures the strap. You see the shift in his posture, the tension as it nestles in his jaw. He marches on and the door opens and closes to punctuate his departure. 

You exhale and hug yourself. It’s still cold and desolate. More so without him. You hate to feel that way but now, he’s all you have. 

You hobble across the room and take the blanket from the couch. You sit by the fire and start your vigil. You rise only to tend to your basic needs; food, bathroom, otherwise, you doze or stare, feeding the flame so it keeps a steady crackle. 

Time doesn’t exist in this place so you don’t try to track it. The day melds into the night. Nothing changes. Not until the clatter. 

Your heart peaks. Adrenaline surges through the dulcet drone of your existence. You shake as you shrug away the blanket. The world hazes as the door handle turns and the hinge grind softly. Panic swells over you, a stone in your chest. You can’t breathe. 

It’s another monster come to attack. You lunge for the iron poker by the fireplace. You whimper at the weight on your injured foot but it fades into a pulsing thrum. You turn to face the new invader. You’ll fight, just as hard as the last time. 

You know by the footsteps alone that you’re wrong. It’s him. The soldier. You know the cadence of his gait. Your grip eases on the poker and as he appears, you let your arms fall, pointing it to the floor. 

He tilts his head and stops to stare back at you. His armour is dusty, his fingertips grimy, and his boots leave water in the stead. He approaches you, step by step. He looks down at the poker and reaches to grip it below your hand. 

He raises it and arcs it in a mimic of an attack, stopping it before his face. He brings his other hand around yours and moves behind you. He moves your fingers, adjusting them to clasp it firmer. He guides both your hands around the handle and he guides it back. He brings it down in a harsh slice. He does it several times. 

He squeezes and backs away. He gestures with his hand. You shake your head. He mimes the motion of swing the poker. He’s teaching you how to do it right. How to hit to damage. 

“I can’t--” 

He wags his finger. You have to. You sniff and turn your focus to the poker. You raise it again and swing. The air whips around your effort. He nods and wiggles his finger. Again. He unhooks his cowl and slips it off. He tosses it on the couch. 

He moves toward you. He surprises you as he bends and carefully moves your feet. He stands again and sets his own stance, waving his hand between the both of you. You do your best to replicate his posture. He nods and backs up. 

You try again. He urges you on with another point. You keep doing it. Over and over, each time more confident than the last. You’re left breathless. You aim the pointer down into the floor and lean on it. 

He stares then slowly bends his arm. A thumbs up. It’s almost comical. 

Then his eyes narrow and his face grows sombre. He shakes his head. He snatches up his cowl then goes to the kitchen. He opens the cupboards and examines the contents. He hooks his chinstrap to his belt and the helmet dangles against his thigh. 

He takes a milk crate from the corner and sweeps the contents of the cupboard into it. You gasp and come up next to him. What is he doing? 

He’s determined. He doesn’t notice you as he continues to clear out the cupboard. You watch him in confusion. 

“Are you leaving?” You ask fearfully. He stops and looks at you. His cheek twitches and his brows arch. “Are we leaving?” 

His lashes flick and he goes back to shoving packets in the crate. Your heart pulses. You could ask where but you know won’t get a question. 

“What do we need? Food? Blankets?” He nods as he turns to the fridge and opens it up. 

“Okay, I’ll help,” you say.  

He pauses and turns to face you. His face contorts and he mouths two words; thank you. You nod then hesitate. He goes to turn back and you grab his arm, releasing him as he shifts back again. You take your hand to your chin and push it towards him. 

“Thank you,” you say. “This means ‘thank you’.” 

He squints. He lifts his hand and looks at it then repeats the same gesture. The idea clicks in your head but you don’t know much more than that. 

“Sign language,” you explain. “I only know please and a few other things...” 

He makes the gesture again. You blow out a long breath and recenter yourself. You pivot as he returns to the fridge. 

“Blankets, clothes, got it,” you say to yourself.  

You limp out of the kitchen and grab the blanket from the floor. You’re scared and confused. You don’t know where he’s taking you or why. Still, it can’t be worse than this place. 

[luckyandtheheartbreakers]

Many such cases. Star Wars is political in the same way every day life is political. People who claim both are apolitical simply benefit from a political system that allows them to be fully ignorant without being affected by it. Saying stuff like Star Wars or Star Trek or certain video game franchises weren't political until black/LGBTQ/feminine people entered the picture in a big way is just admitting that you live in a headspace molded by privilege and ignorance. Which is fine, btw. The opportunity to learn is the greatest opportunity.

I too was a white male enjoyer of sci-fi and fantasy who was told that black people, women and gays didn't belong in "my" content. That's what they really mean when they say adding those things makes them political. What they actually mean is that representation of others makes them feel like the content isn't made just for them anymore and that makes them upset. The content isn't specifically and only glorifying their personal feelings and fantasies, now they have to share all of that enjoyment with people they hate like women, black people, the LGBTQ+ community, etc.

There's also a large degree of faux outrage over this issue. Most of the men who complain about diversity and political messaging in video games and television only do so because Ben Shapiro and Matt Walsh whined into a camera for 45+ minutes about black people being in [movie/game/show] and now that's the only lens they use to determine if something is "too political." They're not actually upset, just happy to indulge in some light racism or sexism while cosplaying as someone who is concerned about the direction modern media is going when it comes to representation and messaging. Same with men who criticize trans women for participating in sports. They never cared about women's sports until someone gave them an opportunity to use women's sports as a platform to attack minorities from.

"well, I don't watch Star Wars for the politics, Star Wars doesn't have to be political-"

THE TWO ARE INTRINSICALLY LINKED. THEY ARE INSEPARABLE. THE SPACE IMPERIALS ARE FASCISTS AND ALSO THE UNDENIABLE BAD GUYS. HELLO. ARE YOU STUPID.

[skania]

Final Akane + AquaKane Thoughts

There are so many things to say that I don't even know how to start organizing my thoughts lol I'll also be including my final thoughts about the "love triangle" while I'm at it, so this is probably going to get long!

I've written quite a bit about Aqua/Akane this past year, so I won't be going into detail into any of the things I've already discussed up to now. Instead, I'll just focus on my thoughts on this final set of chapters, as well as my overall thoughts now that the manga is over.

I'll start with the (few) things I liked:

The Good

I mentioned before that I'm a sucker for parallels, and that Aqua/Akane having so many is one of the reasons why I couldn't help but ship them. We somehow got some very good ones in these last few chapters. We even got a scene at the Aqua/Akane bridge, the one where Akane's relationship with Aqua began and ended.

Aqua saved her life at that bridge, without any ulterior motives. And it's that very bridge that is pictured as Akane says that she has decided to live on. The imagery is poignant and pays its respects to not only Akane's arc as a character, but also to the Aqua/Akane relationship.

More than that, the parallels we got confirm things that Akane and Aqua/Akane fans like me have been saying all along:

Through it all, Akane saw him as he is and embraced the broken him. Each time, she willingly chose to get closer to him. When Aqua tells Akane that he has been saved ever since he met her, I get it. I have no doubt that for Aqua, who has been desperately fighting alone for so long, being seen and understood and loved despite all his self-perceived flaws and the darkness in him must have felt like salvation.

Akane is the one who knows Aqua the best, the one who knows him the most, the one who sees him exactly as he is and who loves all of him. Akane doesn't romanticize Aqua's flaws and his self-sacrificial nature, and neither does she idealize his virtues. She just accepts him and does her best to support and understand him through it all.

Akane being the only one who can see through Aqua's plan is enough to prove this, but it's actually not the most meaningful way in which Aka confirmed it. The most meaningful way was actually this:

Usually, whenever Akane thinks about Aqua, she calls him Aqua-kun. However, throughout her entire monologue in the last three chapters, Akane never addresses him by name. She just calls him "You". The same "You" (君) that Aka emphasized in Chapter 63.

The "You" that encapsulates everything Aqua Hoshino was: both the Goro and the Aqua.

This was a very, very deliberate narrative choice that tells you that throughout the manga, Akane was the one who loved Aqua Hoshino exactly as he was.

Aka also uses another parallel to confirm that Akane was indeed lying to Kana when she claimed that she was over Aqua.

When she finally breaks down, Aka allows Akane to be honest about her feelings, and the parallel to the Aqua/Akane break-up tells us everything we need to know.

Akane never stopped loving Aqua. She has been in love with him all along.

Ever since they broke up, Akane has been sacrificing her feelings for Aqua in order to do what she thinks is best for him. Akane's priority has always been to see Aqua happy. She is willing to do whatever it takes to accomplish that. Back when she thought that Aqua needed to kill Kamiki, Akane was willing to shoulder that sin with him just so he wouldn't have to carry it on his own. When she realized that what Aqua truly wanted was to be free from his revenge, Akane was ready to deal with Kamiki on her own just so that Aqua wouldn't get his hands dirty. Then, when Aqua pushes Akane away, Akane becomes determined to stop him from killing Kamiki because she knows revenge is not what Aqua truly wants or needs.

But that's not all there is to it. Akane wants to be with Aqua, because she loves him. And it's precisely because she loves him, and because she thinks her love failed to save him, that she keeps her feelings to herself and is even willing to help another girl get close to him in her place.

So this chapter confirmed that the one who has been making the sacrificial play, the one who truly loved Aqua, was Akane. It is, essentially, the counterpart to Chapters 148 and 149.

It's no wonder, then, that Akane's feelings and her grief are the ones we follow immediately after Aqua's death. She goes to mourn him in the place he actually died, and when she's around his family, she keeps her pain to herself in order to not worsen their burden. We see her piece together what happened, we see her break, and then we see Akane put herself together and find some solace in knowing that Aqua kept her away to protect her.

Aqua is gone, and Akane is the only one to know Aqua's truth.

A lot of people spent the entire manga trying to downplay Aqua's relationship with Akane; claiming that it was a lie, a manipulation, or what-have-you. Now that the manga is over, we can say those claims were never proven.

At the contrary, until the very end, Aqua's thoughts & actions in regard to Akane were shown to back-up everything he said about her during their relationship.

Aqua could've lived if he had asked Akane for help in killing Kamiki, but he didn't want Akane to get her hands dirty for him. He broke up with her to not bring her down to hell with him, and when the options were to either die alone or make Akane bear the weight of a sin with him, the choice was quickly made.

At the end, he's even shown wanting the same thing Akane wanted: an equal relationship with her.

Unlike his thoughts about Kana (more on that later), which are just a 'might', this is something Aqua is purposeful about. It's something he is sure he wants. It's even the last thing he thinks of before wanting to see Ruby at the dome, which we all know was his dearest wish.

This also fits the panels chosen to be shown in the "romance" part of Aqua's montage: the moment he doesn't catch Kana's ball (symbolizing that their feelings don't connect) vs the moment where he chooses to kiss and date Akane for real.

Which brings us back to the moment they broke up. That chapter was titled "Going Astray" and we now saw where that wrong turn led Aqua: to his death.

So chapter 98, the Aqua/Akane break-up, is pretty much officially the chapter that leads us to the ending we got.

Which means that what I said back in this post still applies. If Aqua and Akane had been honest with each other during that phone-call in Chapter 97, things could've been different. But truth is, it's nearly pointless to think about it, because what this all comes down to is that Aka wanted this ending and he wanted it at all costs.

So nothing could have happened any other way, because Aka didn't want Aqua to be saved. He wanted Aqua to die so he could have his forced "bittersweet" ending.

This is why Aqua and Akane had to break up, it's why Akane is practically not allowed to interact with Aqua again after their break-up, and it's also why Akane never found out about Aqua being Goro's reincarnation.

Aqua was never meant to be saved, and Akane more than anyone could have saved him. So, of course, Aka couldn't allow her to do so. It's forced writing at its finest.

This is also why Akane isn't involved in Aqua's fatidic confrontation with Kamiki. While there is Aka's typical contrived writing involved in Akane leaving Aqua to his own devices at the most crucial moment, I do think it makes sense.

I've mentioned before that from the very beginning, Aqua and Akane's relationship has been based on trust and on choices.

Aqua once gave Akane a choice, trusting that she'd be able to choose what was best for herself. After Akane made her choice, Aqua did everything in his power to help her accomplish her goal.

Ever since, Akane has been trying to do the same for Aqua.

Akane wants Aqua to choose what's right for himself. She will always respect whatever it is that he chooses, as long as it is a true reflection of what he wants and needs. This is why Akane was eager to stop his plan to kill Kamiki, she could tell that Aqua was ready to sacrifice his own future to accomplish it.

That's why, once Aqua chooses to let Kamiki live, Akane is reassured.

Something has changed in Aqua. Akane notices this and believes that Aqua has, finally, chosen to not throw his life away just to deal with Kamiki. She trusts that he has.

Personally, I'd like to believe that Akane was right. Problem was that once Aqua knew for sure that Kamiki couldn't be saved, he switched back to his original plan. Something Akane couldn't have foreseen without knowing that Aqua was the reincarnation of a dude whose issues made him suicidal... which is yet another reason why Aka could have never let Akane find out about the whole reincarnation business.

So all in all, Aqua/Akane-wise, this is all well and good. On paper.

When it comes to the execution however, it leaves a lot to be desired, because Aqua/Akane is sadly majorly brought down by the spectacular way in which Aqua's character was (mis)handled during the second half of the manga.

The Bad

Goro has always been someone who thinks his life has no worth, and this belief is deeply ingrained into Aqua. That's why I could tell that his revenge plan likely involved killing himself and making it look like Kamiki did it.

I just didn't think that he would actually succeed, because it kind of goes without saying that the suicidal character getting to kill himself is far from being a satisfying ending. Even less so when said character has shown time and time again that he actually wants to live, he is just too broken by his guilt complex to believe he has that right.

For a while there, it even looks like Aqua will make it. That he has once again started to embrace that this is a life that he wants to live.

Sadly, once Aqua realizes that Kamiki can't be saved and that he poses a danger to Ruby, all of that flies off the window and "Goro" takes over. And by "Goro" I don't mean Goro the character, I mean all the bad habits that Aqua has due to his guilt-complex and survivor's guilt.

So Aqua goes and executes his original plan, killing himself instead of looking for a better solution. Which means he started off like this:

Only to end the manga pretty much the same way, except you can switch "If Ai's gone, this world isn't-" for "As long as Ruby can live on in this world."

Though, actually, it's even worse than that, because Aqua realizes that he was wrong — dying would bother him — only when it's too late.

It leaves a bad taste in my mouth because it's like Aqua had no development through the entire manga. Cut everything after his break-up with Akane and nearly nothing changes, except the motive behind Aqua throwing his life away: protecting Ruby (Sarina) instead of revenge.

It all feels even more pointless because Aqua's death rings hollow due to how badly his character was mishandled in the second half of the manga. After the break-up, Aqua becomes a "..." bot. His character isn't allowed to grow and neither is he allowed to explore his feelings in any meaningful way, to the point that he dies confused and not knowing who he was.

Pardon my bluntness, but how pathetic is this? 160+ chapters and literally none of this guy's issues were ever solved. His character goes nowhere, only so he can be sacrificed to make the ending bittersweet for Ruby. Though for me it wasn't even bittersweet; the ending fell flat on its face precisely because Aqua's character never goes anywhere, so it's hard to feel anything other than vague frustration and disbelief at how forced the writing is.

Even the Kami/Ai - Aqua/Akane parallels were wasted because both ships ended up in the exact same way: Akane and Ai both unable to save Aqua and Kamiki. I wouldn't even be surprised if those parallels are something Aka came up with on the spot while writing the Ai DVD.

I'm sure some Aqua/Akane truthers will say "all Aqua and Kamiki needed to be saved was to be with Akane and Ai, and Akane and Ai didn't realize that" and leaving aside my issues with that kind of co-dependency, once again, that's all well and good — on paper.

Sure, those of us who ship Aqua and Akane could see it that way if we wanted to, but... did Aka make a point of clearly stating this? No, he left it to the reader's imagination, which means it's just another blank to be filled with headcanon.

Personally, I'm pretty tired of doing that, because everything there is to like about the manga may as well just be the headcanons we have filled all those blanks with.

I always say that I prefer showing and not telling, but there's a limit to everything. Truth of the matter is, if this was supposed to be the case — and especially if it was supposed to be important — then showing isn't enough. Because the majority of readers aren't going to spend hours breaking down every single Aqua/Akane interaction to draw those parallels and reach that conclusion.

Aqua dying soothed by a song by his favorite idol (Ruby/Sarina) doesn't really do it any favors either, because fact of the matter is that people who were never invested in the Aqua/Akane relationship will just assume Aqua never loved Akane back. They'll be more distracted by Kana's tropey, shallow shoujo romance, and this is something Aka allowed in his manga right up to the very end.

Aqua and Akane were the only relationship in the entire manga that got mutual, gradual, organic, continuous development. But this all came to a halt when they broke up, so at the end of the day, they're mostly left up to interpretation.

It's underwhelming.

Most of all, if you ask me, it was a terrible move, because Aqua and Akane could've been the heart of this manga. If their feelings had been properly explored after their break up, if Aqua had been allowed to think of Akane in his last moments, if all this blank-filling had been actual text, they'd have been a tragic love-story for the ages.

But Aka didn't want it to be the heart of the manga, because he had already decided from the beginning that role should go to Aqua and Ruby. Alas, he completely failed at developing that, too, because to the very end there's only Goro and Sarina. That is the entire basis of the Aqua/Ruby relationship and dynamic, and it gets one single chapter where it's explored beyond that, only to immediately focus back on Goro and Sarina as Aqua lies dying.

Goro couldn't save Sarina in his first life, so he wastes his second to do it. He jumped at the chance to free himself of the burden of that guilt without even bothering to think of how much his death would hurt the very person he wanted to protect.

Which takes me to...

The Ugly

Turns out Kana was pretty much just a mixture between Fujiwara and Maki, after all. Except that unlike Maki, she never grows (Aqua literally has to die for her to do so) and unlike Fujiwara, she's overused instead of underused.

Aqua and Kana are portrayed as shallow to the end, and I'd even go as far as saying that the narrative pokes fun at Kana for it. Even during the funeral, she puts on a hat that's reserved for family members and it literally falls off her head when Miyako slaps her lmao

Since this is a manga and not real life, the way Kana's outburst was handled in that chapter is likely meant to be contrasted with the way Akane's own grief was handled, because it pretty much embodies all the differences between both of their relationships with Aqua through the manga.

Kana is focused on herself and on her pain. She thinks Aqua was murdered, but she still irrationally blames him for it, too blinded by her own pain. Aqua was murdered, but not being able to confess to him properly is still at the top of her list of grievances. She is also shown overplaying that one conversation she had with Aqua about Aqua having a death-wish, as if Aqua somehow agreeing to not say that he wants to die was some vital promise that he broke.

Meanwhile, Akane focuses on Aqua. On what Aqua felt, on why he did what he did, and on what he would have wanted. Even her wish to be by Aqua's side is expressed through Akane saying that she'd have been willing to shoulder his burdens with him, no matter where that led them. It is also Akane's understanding of Aqua that helps her to find some solace and to overcome his death.

Kana always looked at Aqua from the outside-in, idealizing and romanticizing him, while Akane was Aqua's partner in every sense of the word. That's why Akane gets all the insightful narration about Aqua while Kana just gets to make a fool of herself at his funeral.

So to the very end, the dichotomy between "Ai" and "Koi" does perfectly illustrates the contrast between the two sides of the Aqua love triangle.

Kana was infatuated with the Aqua that she built up in her head, and focused on what she wanted Aqua to do for her (support her unconditionally), and what she wanted to be for him (his only idol), rather than on Aqua himself as a person.

As for Aqua, during his last moments, most Aqua can say about Kana is that it might be good to respond to her feelings. Might. He spends the entire story knowing Kana is at his beck and call, he even makes fun of her for it (you're so easy to manipulate, yadda yadda), yet when the opportunity to date her presents itself, most he can say is essentially "it could be cool I guess." He even pictures her pulling on his arm to get his attention, while with Akane, he pictures himself facing her and looking straight at her.

So to Aqua, Kana was at most a teenage crush. His feelings for her weren't deep or relevant enough to have any sort of impact on his character, while he outright called the year he spent dating Akane his happy days. An entire year that he spent without Kana even being in his life, mind you. Meanwhile Kana was out there living an entire shoujo where she's the heroine and Aqua is the male lead 😂

That said, I still think Aqua, who I'm sure must've broken a record at being bad at understanding his own feelings, was likely mistaking admiration for romantic attraction, and that he would've realized this pretty early into dating Kana.

The anime is even clearer about this because Aqua's reactions to Kana are paralleled to Akane's who is, quite literally, a fan of Kana.

But even if he wasn't, it doesn't really matter, because it's shown very clearly that Aqua deeply values being understood (to him, it feels like salvation) and that Kana doesn't really understand him. So had they dated, Aqua would've had fun at first, sure, but his emotional needs wouldn't have been met; instead his job would've been to meet Kana's. It just would've never worked in the long term.

Now that the dust has settled, I can say for certain that if Aqua had been allowed to have a happy ending, it'd have been with Akane.

So once more, this is all fine on paper. The problem is that Aka takes it too far. The whole Kana business takes too much panel time for no discernible reason other than to... bait readers? I've even seen some say that Aka intended to mock them.

But even if that were the case, considering that those same readers are likely going to walk out of the story thinking Aqua and Kana are a tragic ship that loved each other because of all the bait, who's really the butt of the joke? Them or Aka himself?

Conclusion

I've always been pretty clear about being an Akane fan first and foremost. Despite all my Aqua/Akane meta, I had no emotional investment in whether she ended up with Aqua or not, as long as she got a satisfying ending. That said, by principle, I most definitely didn't want Aqua to end up with Kana, because that'd be like rewarding Kana for all her crying and whining when she never even tried to understand who Aqua was as a person and I've already gone through that in Naruto, thank you very much.

So the two silver-linings about this ending are that Akane stayed amazing to the end, and that Kana didn't have Aqua handed to her on a silver platter. But considering just how much panel time Kana's meaningless crush takes up in the narrative and how side-lined Akane got after the break-up, it feels like a pyrrhic victory lol

Akane is still the best thing about the manga, and I'd say that she got by far the best ending of the bunch. I'm not sure if I'd call it satisfying, because Akane's one goal was always to save Aqua and she didn't get to accomplish that. But at the very least, she got a good ending, all things considered. She got to protect what Aqua entrusted to her, and she got to show just how emotionally strong she is.

As for Aqua and Akane, AquaKane could've been incredible if only Aka had done them justice, but he didn't. I joked before that the Aqua/Akane development was so good that it's like it wrote itself, and I actually think that's exactly what happened. Aka made things up as he went along, and he allowed Aqua and Akane to develop together in ways he didn't necessarily plan nor foresee. But as soon as he started heading towards the ending he envisioned, he dropped the ship, likely because he had already established everything that would be relevant about them by then, and then proceed to leave a lot of it to the discretion of the readers.

While I'm sure that'll be enough for some, I'm afraid it's not really enough for me. If you were to ask me if I'm satisfied with the way they were handled, my answer would be: not really, but it certainly could've been worse lol

In my opinion, they're the biggest wasted potential in the manga (which is saying something, because the entire manga is wasted potential), and their potential was wasted simply because they're the ones who could've actually led us to a happy ending.

Aka didn't want that ending, though. He cared for his vision more than about his characters, and his vision was literally just an ending where poor Ruby would be a star that shines brighter "the darkest things get". Nothing else mattered. LMAO. As if Ruby hadn't already gone through enough!

Oh well, at least we're finally free!

[a-twistedheartslonging]

I'm gonna ramble about a Kalim headcanon/scenerio. I hope this makes sense.

With how big Kalim's family is, you can not convince me that his little siblings weren't sharing a bed with Kalim constantly. Whether they were cold, had a nightmare, or were just lonely, they shared a bed with Kalim cause they knew he was never gonna shoo them away. Which led to Kalim being able to count on one hand how many nights he spend alone his entire life. Cause there was always at least one kid sharing a bed with him.

This of course changed when he went to NRC and suddenly didn't have six year olds knocking on his door every night. And he couldn't sleep, cause it just felt weird being so alone at night. So after Jamil refuses to share a room with Kalim, he decides to just invest in stuffed animals. So he just has a mountain of plushies in his room so that he isn't alone at night. That worked until ONE night he invited Yuu over to have a slumber party at Scarabia.

Yuu not wanting to stay in one of the spare rooms (memories of chapter 4) ends up sharing a bed with Kalim. Cause he has more than enough space for him, Yuu, and Grim. Plus he's a good boy, he won't prank them or anything in their sleep. He's the best option to share a bed with. Except now Kalim has finally shared space with someone at night again and he realized how much he missed it. Whether romantic or platonic, he missed having someone to hold at night. So the next night when Yuu had gone back to Ramshackle, Kalim realized how big and cold his bed was. Except now his plushies aren't enough to comfort him. They're soft, but it's not the same as cuddling with a person.

So after Jamil refuses Kalim's first idea (which was him staying at Ramshackle every night), Kalim tries to do the opposite. Convince Yuu to stay at Scarabia at night. I mean, it's a win/win. Yuu and Grim get warm blankets, food in the morning, and nights without being eaten alive by bugs. And Kalim gets a cuddle-buddy. Everybody wins.

Kalim is a cuddle-bug and nobody can change my mind.

This is so sweet, I love it.

Him and his siblings totally had sleepovers all the time and he loved it. Very sad Jamil doesn't want to be cuddle/sleep over buddies😔.

It's been so long since the poor guys had a proper cuddle, and you're so soft and warm. Dude is going to get withdrawal symptoms the next night, the boy needs those cuddles again.

Depending on how bad it gets with Kalim, Jamil might even be the one giving you reasons why you should just move into the dorm, so Kalim stops whining.

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 The Endless’ Adventure with Animal Control: Chapter One

The Endless’ Adventure with Animal Control: You are being courted by Morpheus, one of the seven Endless. Then you get stood up on your date, and find out the shocking reason why.

Warnings: None.

To Note: Morpheus x Reader, Destiny = Russian Blue, Death = Sphinx, Dream = Mainecoon, Desire = Bombay, Despair = Exotic Shorthair, Delirium = Bengal.

Word Count: ~3.4k

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Apparently, having an Endless ‘court’ you means being showered with attention, gifts, and being treated like royalty while visiting the Dreaming. A quick Google search makes your situation clear. Courting is basically dating with the intention to marry, the step before engagement. So, you’ve essentially told Dream of the Endless he could court you and potentially marry you. Wow, you really have a knack for getting yourself into situations!

On the bright side, you enjoy the intimate time spent with Morpheus as he shows you places within the Dreaming you’d never imagined. Despite all the ethereal beauty and wonder you gaze at, Morpheus always keeps his eyes on you. That makes you feel special, beautiful, and seen—a first in your life.

It’s also an ego boost for the Endless to watch you fawn over his creations, as there’s nothing you don’t find awe-inspiring or amazing.

Morpheus’ courtship sweeps you up in a romantic swirl of magical dreams, picnics, and strolls, making you feel like you’re living a never-ending fairytale. But fairytales always end, right? You don’t think it’s going to crash and burn; you’re just suspicious of how well things are going in your life. Nothing has ever been this smooth and easy for this long. You’re suspicious, to say the least. That’s how you find yourself absentmindedly stirring muffin batter while lost in thought.

“Hey, uh, Y/N?” Matthew chitters, his head cocking to the side. “I think you’re over-stirring the batter…” You blink out of your tumultuous thoughts and glance down at the bowl. Damn it.

“It’s banana muffins,” you mutter, trying to hype yourself up. “They’re forgiving… right?” Matthew has no idea if banana muffins are forgiving, as he doesn’t bake, but he remembers that over-stirring muffin batter is a kitchen no-no.

“No idea, but sure, they’ll taste good either way,” the raven replies from his perch on the window sill. You installed a little bird perch for him after Morpheus began courting you. Matthew cocks his head further at you while you spoon the batter into the muffin tray. “So, you’ve been really lost in your thoughts lately, Y/N. Something wrong?”

You don’t reply at first, choosing to collect your thoughts while spooning dollops of batter. With a more than necessary drawn-out soft sigh, you finally reply:

“I feel like I’m in a fairy tale,” you explain almost numbly, realizing that admitting your thoughts out loud makes them true. “A stupid Disney fairy tale where all my wishes and dreams come true.”

Listening to your softly spoken words, Matthew is confused by how down you seem about those words. You’re happy with your life, right? It sure seems like it with the way you smile when Morpheus is with you—you practically glow! Clearly, everything isn’t fine in reality.

“What’s wrong with that?” Matthew broaches, ruffling his wings. “Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Fairy tales come to an end, Matthew, and I’m starting to wonder when mine will do the same.” You reply with a shrug, setting aside the now empty bowl and grabbing the filled muffin tray. “I’m not going to pretend that this is going to last forever. Nothing in my life has ever been without problems or heartbreak.”

“What exactly are you saying? Things are going too well between you and the boss man?”

“Pretty much,” you say, putting the tray in the oven and setting the timer. “I mean, do you know what it means to court someone? It isn’t dating, Matthew.”

“Uh, you’re gonna have to clarify for me because I have no idea what courting even is…” the raven responds sheepishly. You lean back against the kitchen counter and stare out the window.

“It means you get to know someone with the intention of marriage,” you explain to the raven, feeling silly for even saying the words. In what dimension would an Endless want to marry you?

“Wow, boss, you’re really going for it,”

Sitting on the park bench where you’ve spent countless hours next to a certain brooding man, your jaw clenches and fingers grip the worn wood tightly. Morpheus is never late. In fact, it always seems like he waits for you to arrive. He’s always careful never to have you wait on him and extends every chance he has to spend more time with you. So why isn’t he at your meeting place today?

Perhaps something has come up in the Dreaming, and he had to tend to that incident first? No, Matthew would have come to inform you of such an event. You spend many of your waking hours in the raven’s presence, and he keeps you well informed about what’s going on in the Dreaming. They wouldn’t leave you sitting all by yourself on this bench wondering...

“Maybe I was right,” you softly speak to yourself, thinking back to the conversation you had with Matthew about how your life is a fairy tale. Perhaps this is the great end you’ve been expecting? No, Morpheus wouldn’t do that to you. He dotes on you like a loyal boyfriend and worships the ground you tread! If you and he were going to end your relationship, no doubt it would be an explosive event with anger and tears. Not this nothingness. “They wouldn’t do this to me, they wouldn’t do this to us.”

You repeat those words in your mind, trying to convince yourself that nothing is wrong and that, for once, Morpheus and Matthew are distracted by something to miss your bi-weekly date at the park. Tonight you’ll enter the Dreaming and hunt down Lucienne to find out what happened. An Endless hellbent on courting you like a queen wouldn’t ghost you.

Sighing in dejection, you rise from your seat and stuff your hands in your pockets. Clearly, your date is going to have to be postponed. So you turn and slowly begin walking back towards your home, trying not to let your mind turn upon itself. Following the winding path, you pass a group of children kicking around a soccer ball and a pair of gossiping women. The pathway bends around a group of trees that obscure the rest of the park, and while you glance at a flowering bush, a cacophony of birds and breaking branches startles you out of your inner thoughts. You look up in time to see a black mass of ruffled feathers shooting directly at you and take the bird straight in the chest.

Obviously, you fall on your ass with a less-than-graceful yelp. While your palms sting from rocks and gravel digging into your flesh, you grunt and shift into a sitting position as the black bird rights itself.

“We’ve got a MASSIVE problem, boss lady!!” Matthew thunders from where he’s still perched in your lap, feathers askew and very ruffled. You blink at him in surprise, wondering why the hell he would be pulling such a stunt in broad daylight around the public. But before the flustered raven can tell you exactly what’s going on and why it’s such a huge problem, your phone’s ringtone goes off.

“Hold that thought, let me get off the ground and check my phone. It might be work…” Moving Matthew so he’s perched on your shoulder instead of your lap, you pull yourself to your feet and slip your phone from your pocket. The moment your eyes glance at the screen, your brow furrows. “Why on earth would they be calling?”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you!” Matthew all but shrieks in your ear. “The boss is a cat again!” Dear sweet Jesus, not again! At least the animal shelter has your number on file and is calling you. Accepting the call, you hold the phone to your ear while speed-walking home.

“Hello?”

“Hello! We are calling you to inform you that we have picked up your cat Morpheus after he was found at the scene of an accident with other felines. We suspect that someone might have been trafficking purebreds given the conditions he and the others were found in. We’ll give him a once-over before you take him home.”

Well, no wonder he hadn’t shown up for your date!

Never mind that, brain. Morpheus is a cat again and possibly mixed up in animal trafficking? You need to get over to that shelter pronto!

“I’ll be right over as soon as I get home,” you promise before ending the call.

“Boss lady to the rescue,” Matthew sighs in relief. “I’ve been trying to bust him and the others out for at least two hours, but I got chased off.” The raven explains. “You have no idea how despondent the boss was when he realized he was going to miss your date. Thought he was going to start crying… can cats cry?”

“No idea and I do not want to find out.” You muse, crossing the street and setting your eyes on your front door. You unlock the door and throw yourself into your home, searching for your car keys. “Stay here while I handle this. It shouldn’t take long since they’ve dealt with him before.”

“Well, yeah,” Matthew agrees, coasting to his perch. “But what about his—” you’re already out the door, the wood slamming shut behind you. You know Morpheus isn’t in any danger of being neutered by the staff, but you do know he isn’t too keen on being touched and prodded while being examined. The last thing you want is for him to get injured a second time while in cat form… which makes you wonder how the hell this happened a second time!

Your boyfriend has a lot of explaining to do. Boyfriend. Gripping the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip, you stare at the red light holding you in place, wondering when you began to think of him as your boyfriend. It makes sense; he is courting you. Has been for several months. But you’d never put a name to your relationship like that, just worried that things were going too well.

“It was a cat that got me into this, and a cat that will probably get me out of this,” you sigh to yourself, pressing the accelerator when the light finally turns green. The only question is, how long are you going to have to wait this time? Hours? Days? Are you going to wake up in bed with him naked again? You wouldn’t complain about that if it did happen again. But seriously, Morpheus really needs to stop getting stuck in cat form because once was excusable but twice is just ridiculous. Especially for an all-powerful Endless.

While you aren’t feeling as stressed as you did the first time entering the animal shelter, you’re still jittery about the idea of an Endless confined in a feline form. Trotting up to the desk, you give the receptionist a smile and tell her that you’re there to pick up Morpheus.

“He’s in back with the other five cats. Follow me,” she says. You do as told, following the receptionist to the back of the clinic and to a room marked ‘holding.’ The moment the door is opened and you step inside, your eyes zero in on the large form of your boyfriend currently sulking in a corner while a gorgeous Bengal bounces off the walls with energy near him. They couldn’t be more opposite! Letting out a breath of relief, you take a step forward, ignoring the dark-bodied Sphinx that trots up to you and sniffs your jeans.

“Morpheus?” you call softly, not wanting to spoil his mood further. Azure eyes settle on you, and in less than a second, the Black Maine Coon is launching himself at you. “Oh jeez,” you exclaim, awkwardly catching the flying form of your boyfriend as he latches onto you with his nails and instantly begins rubbing his face everywhere he can. “Mor—Morpheus, is this… is this really necessary?” you question, pulling away from his nuzzles. A rumble sounds in his body.

They must know you are mine.

You have no idea what he’s talking about, let alone who ‘they’ are. Perhaps the other cats? Your eyes glance around the small room as you hug Morpheus to your chest to support his weight. Obviously, there’s the energetic Bengal and the dark Sphinx, but a black cat with the most peculiar golden eyes lounges on a table observing you while what you think is an Exotic Shorthair lazes about. Finally, your eyes catch sight of a looming body perched on top of a bookshelf, glossy blue-gray fur shimmering in the light while an eyeless gaze stares into your soul.

Holy fuck.

“Family,” you whisper faintly, realizing what this is. The whole Endless family has been turned into cats. Destruction is clearly not here, he’s been missing for a long time, but the six remaining siblings are all accounted for. “How—how did this happen??”

I am afraid we cannot speak of what took place, beloved.

Morpheus’ words draw your gaze from the sightless, but not unseeing, Destiny. You look at him with panic in your eyes.

“Morpheus, Morpheus I am not—” You cut yourself off when a worker pops in.

“Hello! You must be Morpheus’ owner! We’re so glad to reunite him with you after the accident. We haven’t been able to identify the owners of the others, but they are obviously well-fed and cared for…” You speak before you can think your words through.

“They’re all mine,” you blurt out. “The cats. I mean, I’m not a crazy cat lady, I just… love cats…” You ramble as your face heats up, but the worker doesn’t even blink at your claim. The Sphinx obediently sits at your feet, looking up at you. The Bombay gets to its feet, stretches, and jumps down to the floor to get closer, and the Russian Blue, who has been the most aloof, gracefully leaps to the floor and joins the Sphinx. Clearly, they know you and are comfortable with you. “It’s complicated.” You finally sputter out.

“Just means a little extra paperwork, but we are glad to see that they have a loving home to go back to,” the worker replies. “We were real worried about a bunch of families missing their cats.”

“Nope,” you say in a high-pitched voice, cringing on the inside because you clearly need to calm down. “All mine, and clearly I need to make sure to fix whatever they used to get out.”

“I’ll go grab the paperwork and get the cardboard boxes ready. Hang tight,” she says, leaving you alone in the room with six of the most powerful beings in creation, all stuck in cat form.

“Someone better start speaking because this is above my pay grade,” you state, turning back to gaze at Morpheus’ siblings. This is not how you pictured meeting them. You never expected to meet them in the first place! “I—Let’s just be clear that I am a mortal human, and I do not play around with supernatural bullshit on the regular.”

That is understandable; this must be quite a shock for you, Y/N. You look down at the Sphinx, hearing a gentle female voice coming from that direction.

“Great, so I have no idea who is who except I can guess who is Destiny.” The Sphinx blinks at you, and you could swear you receive the cat version of a smile. Meanwhile, Morpheus is still rubbing his face everywhere he can reach.

I am Death, and I am pleased to meet the one who holds my brother's heart.

“Do Endless even have a heart to be held?” you wonder aloud.

Not a physical one. This time, the voice is suave and silky, drawing a low rumbling growl from deep within Morpheus. He pulls away from your neck, where he had been furiously rubbing his scent, and settles his gaze on his sibling.

Do not meddle with my beloved, Desire. Desire, the gorgeous Bombay, doesn’t even bother to bat an eyelash at the hostility in Morpheus’ voice and words.

Oh big brother, must you be so protective? It’s not every day that we get to meet the one who currently holds your attention. You can’t help but flinch at that wording. Hold his attention. Is that all you’re doing? You’ve heard bits and pieces of Morpheus’ past lovers, and by far, you’re the plainest. But you also know about Desire and their love for stirring shit up in the family.

“Desire, I presume?” you ask, stroking Morpheus’ body in an effort to calm him down before a full-on cat fight breaks out in this room. His hackles are already raised.

A pleasure. You must meet my twin; we’ve been ever so curious about you. Twin. Despair, the Exotic Shorthair, who is almost as sulky as Morpheus but barely makes any effort to move from where she lounges. That must mean…

“So you must be Delirium,” you surmise, turning your gaze to the Bengal that’s exploring the room and getting distracted by every little thing she comes across. “I didn’t exactly expect to meet you all like this, but I guess this is what was in the cards?” Your eyes glance down at the silent, eyeless Russian Blue. It’s a little creepy to look at him, but you can’t deny his beauty. Which is odd to think because he’s currently a cat. A cat with no eyes.

This is as planned. That’s a relief to know. Destiny, after all, sees everything. But still, how long is this going to last?

“Okay, and how long should I expect you all to be like this? If you can even tell me about that…”

Not for long, beloved. Morpheus reassures you, only taking solace in the fact that you won’t be subjected to his sibling’s noxious presence for very long. A few days at most.

“A few days, I can do that,” you breathe out, steeling yourself for a few tense days before everything returns to normal. You hug Morpheus to your chest for comfort, which the Endless certainly is pleased about, until the small cardboard boxes arrive to package up the cats for transport.

Morpheus’ ears go flat on his head, and a soft rumble emerges from his throat. Desire slips far away from you, clearly understanding what’s going to happen. Destiny, Death, and Despair wouldn’t care about being shut in the cat carriers, but Dream, Desire, and Delirium are probably going to be another story!

“The quicker you get into the carriers, the faster we can get home, and the faster you can get out of the carriers,” you announce to the cat Endless. The cardboard carriers are lined up, and you’re happy to see that Destiny and Death don’t hesitate to walk over and climb in one—they’re sensible enough. Desire glares at the boxes in disdain but ultimately sulks over, calling for his twin at the same time. All that’s left are Dream and Delirium.

Delirium is still bouncing off the walls and playing with every little thing she can get her paws on before getting distracted by another object… and Morpheus is still covering you in his scent and refusing to ease his claws out of your shirt.

“Morpheus, my love, box,” you chide him while peeling his claws from your shirt. “I need to get Delirium into a box before she gets out of the room and we have to chase her down.” Your boyfriend couldn’t look more pathetic than he does when you place his massive body in the extra-large box and close it up. Sighing, you stand up and look at Delirium.

She’s currently pawing at the space beneath a storage cabinet. Something has caught her attention.

“Delirium?” you call, and the Bengal turns towards you, revealing one blue and one green eye. “It’s time to go to my home. You can play around there as much as you want.” The youngest Endless blinks at you, and for a moment, you think she’s going to ignore your words and go back to bouncing off walls… but she runs over to you, full of energy, and launches herself into the box with an excited meow. “Thank you.”

With the six cats boxed up neatly, a worker helps place them on a rolling cart to make transport easy. Of course, you have to fill out paperwork for each of your five new ‘cats,’ but with Morpheus already in their system, it’s not that long of a process. While you finish up the last bits of paperwork, the cats are loaded into your car, and with a profuse apology on your part, you scurry to your car to get the Endless back to your home.

Date Published: 11/13/24

Last Edit: 11/13/24

Masterlist | Next

[lookingforstupid]

I can relate to James, probably to a greater extent than most of the newer generation of the fanbase does, because I too have experienced caretaker’s fatigue and seen the shadow of depression.

My parents both got terribly sick almost around the same time a while ago, one with a fractured skull and potential brain damage, the other with a severe autoimmune disease that rendered her bedridden and gave her disfiguring skin lesions not unlike Mary’s in the game. I took extensive no-pay leaves from work to stay with them in the hospitals. Sitting on cold benches outside of the ICUs through seemingly endless winter nights, waiting and dreading to hear their names yelled out by the nurses on duty. I’d take a nap at 6am and wake up with a start at 10am. I ate instant noodles squatting outside of the ward. People joked that I looked 40 when I was only in my mid-20s.

While I never considered (or never dared to consider?) doing something as actively destructive as murdering them, I did, for several long moments, seriously ponder the possibility of running away and abandoning them. Leave them to their own devices. Death by passivity, if you will. I was young, broke, all alone, and I too wanted my so-called life - an abstract idea of being care-free - back, even though there would be no life worth living for me without the only people in this world who would ever love me unconditionally.

And looking back, I don’t actually feel ashamed for having these troubled thoughts, because it’s human nature. Unless you are dirty rich or have a social support system straight out of a Utopia, the constant grind, the exhaustion, the despair and the sword of Damocles hanging above your head will always get you in the end. Anyone who tells you otherwise is just lying.

So yeah, James’ story really hits close to home and he’ll never be just a black and white good guy/bad guy for me. I don’t condone the crime, but I understand the motivation.