#OH and the thing on the plate is the chunk of their brain :)

[irradiatedrosegarden]

infested

* * *

AKA, a "bad ending" au where libby cannot leave point lookout and ends up rotting from the inside among the vines and the bugs and al the inhabitants of the swamp!! yippee!

[theoxenfree]

DARK POOL

aquatic monster x reader | 2.8k

you're mystified by the strange noises coming from the basement. despite your uncle attempting to thwart your concerns, you make your way downstairs into the basement one night and come across an appalling sight, and soon enough, a blooming infatuation.

warnings; 18+, double penetration, explicit sexual details, imprisonment (not mc), some unsettling details, roughly proofread, repost from my old blog 2kmps.

this is a concept piece for a potentially long one-shot! pls answer the feedback questions at the end + reblog!! it really helps to develop a well-rounded story for y'all!

Uncle told you that the rats in Cape Tellis liked to swim and when they were in search of food, they didn't care how long they'd have to paddle through the water to find it. Some would simply drift with the current for days; black-gray fur rotted off, skin peeled off bone, little faces disfigured by sea and salt, but they would keep going until their bodies nudged the rust-red walls of the lighthouse and found the energy to scale upward to a window and squeeze inside.

He mentioned this anytime you had something to say about the ruckus down in the basement—sometimes scratching, sometimes powerful, erratic thuds that you felt pulse through the floorboards, through the rubber soles covering your feet, and into your skin. That place was sealed behind a rusted metal frame and door, deadbolted and locked with a key he always carried on a chain through a belt loop.

It always jangled when he walked because he had a limp so bad that his entire leg always dragged a pace behind him and took a great amount of effort to haul forward. When you had asked of it, as memory dictated a handful of years prior he didn't have such trouble, he first claimed it had been a bad sinus infection that got into his brain and disrupted something neurologically. In another instance where he had stopped for a third time on an evening stroll together, he had said he scuffed with one of Cape Tellis’ formidable rats and the mangy bastard had won and taken a chunk of meat out of him before scuttling back into the walls.

“Just ignore it, it's normal that they're active this time of year,” he was saying while scraping fried eggs out of a pan onto your plate. Meanwhile, you winced to the usual commotion downstairs. “They get real flighty this time of year. The rats do. They get frisky and chase each other all around. I don't know nothin' about them besides being persistent, ugly things, but it may well be their special season.”

You ripped a sharp edge in your toast and prodded the egg yolk until the sunny orb burst, oozing out across your plate before you could scoop it all up in the bread.

“How long does it take for the rats to go away?” you asked with some interest in his answer, if for no other reason to know what sort of yarn he'd spin next. The bread was buttered, the eggs unseasoned, but you ate it all anyway while watching him. “Are they permanent residents or do they come and go? You must be feeding them if they stay here.”

Uncle took a long time to situate his bad leg under the table, longer to arrange his silverware and the direction of his food. “Oh, they have no interest in leaving, I don't think. If they really wanted to, I imagine they would've jumped back into the water and swam somewhere else.”

Each time the noises rose up between the wood slats under your feet during breakfast, Uncle told you not to worry about it, but you quieted every sound in your head to better hear rattling metal, reverberations of some sort—like having a man’s deep, anguished moan pressed right against your ribs. You weren't sure what you were looking for when you listened, only that you knew they were rats.

Uncle looked at you, his appetite pushed away towards the center of the table with his plate. “Let's go for a walk, yes? The rain won't come back for a few hours.”

When you did walk after a meal, granduncle would often have to lie down with his dead leg propped up on a short stack of pillows for a long while. It became something of a habit of yours to exert him too much after dinner, forcing him to keep up with your youthfulness—your merry prances and unburdened soul.

For what it was worth, he did the best he could to never be a hindrance. He didn't seem to fully understand his own limitations either, making it quite a simple thing to steal the key from his belt loop while he slept—deep and silent, so much so that you needed to drop a tissue over his face from make sure he was still breathing—and unfasten the lock to descend a set of slick, stone stairs.

There wasn’t much to at the bottom; a space half-flooded from seasonal rains raising the sea-level, old pieces of ship equipment hanging like ornamentation, an old folding chair that had yet to rust despite damp air, and a large hole in the ground that was dark like the throat of a nightmare envisioned in the most precious hours of night.

You held a plate of raw meat, freshly thawed from the freezer, outstretched with a flickering lantern in your other hand. Anywhere else, you'd have just brung a flashlight—but, he didn't like the bright lights, had ripped the last one out of your hands and smashed it against the wall. Oil lanterns were better tolerated, but he still seemed to cower from the gentle flickers.

So, you placed the meat on the seat of the folding chair and walked closer to the hole, wading a hand through seawater until touching braids of cold metal, chains pulled taut as though weighted down by an anchor. You gave the closest one a tug, always with the same caution as a child gripping his mother's clothes in uncertain times, and backed away.

He never made noise when he surfaced, always frightfully quiet, only indicated by a trail of bubbles that followed after where he roamed underwater. The first thing to emerge was a dorsal fin flared proudly from the middle of his head until midway in the deepest curve of his back. His eyes were on you, abysmal black things with a luster you likened to a landbound fish, and skin and scales that moved stiffly with his facial movements.

“You,” said the creature, toneless and in a voice far too raspy and deep to have an equal match amongst human men. “You have come. You are here.”

Months ago, he hadn't been capable of simple speech such as this. The noises he made were incompatible to anything you had ever heard—perhaps mere vocalizations he utilized underwater, possibly something long gone and archaic—but he had started mimicking you when you'd speak, and eventually you started slowing down, giving him the time to feel how the sounds vibrated in his own throat.

“I brought you food, again.” You gestured towards the seat with raw meat with your lantern, prompting his passing glance of interest before he was back on you. “Not hungry? He usually doesn’t feed you that well. I haven't been down here in a week or so, so I figured you'd be ready to scarf it down.”

“No.”

He came closer and the size of him grew, a towering figure with strong, broad-shoulders and a chest built to withstand the friction of the sea he used to own. His face, although hidden in darkness and flickering shadow cast from your lantern, gleamed as the light struck his iridescent scales. The shape of his lips were human-like yet taut, helping to comfortably fit his sharp teeth inside his mouth.

You'd wondered at times what exactly he was, what your granduncle believed him to be and feared so much to hide him away, chained to a wall. You fantasized that he could be the lost prince of some underwater civilization, or the offspring of several thousands of years of evolution between humans and something else.

He never seemed to understand you when you asked him what he was.

“Come,” his reach was limited by the chains that bound his limbs, keeping him shy of touching your body. “Come to me.”

With the lantern set aside, a distance you hoped wouldn't turn him petulant, you walked in his arms and the shackles and made home there as he surrounded you. His embrace was not the sort you could escape, nor was the kiss he pressed against your mouth.

There were parts of him you were too scared to touch, where his scales were like serrated teeth and he had much less control to retract at will like the dorsal find along his back. His lips were smooth and cold, however, a safe place for you to be on his body along with the hard flesh on his chest.

He pushed himself into your touch as your fingertips traced the shape of his torso, rose with the sprawl of his breasts and shoulders, molded into the ridges of his lower abdomen that you felt pulse and tense the further downward you roamed.

The sheath around his groin had swelled significantly and seemed to twitch when you smoothed your hand across it, kneading it gently to see what would come of doing so. You'd seen this only once before several months ago, a time where you'd been more frightened of him and fled from the basement for weeks when he'd acted more aggressive than usual.

It was one of the many things he had taken notice of that were perceived negatively—with fear and distance and shutting him away in this deep dark until you found the courage to feed him again, because your uncle was petrified along with being restricted in his ability to navigate the stairs with his lame leg.

So, he had learned to behave at the worst of times to keep food supplied, for you to stay wrapped up in him like this and so curious to challenge the extent of his self-restraint.

His kiss had grown full-bodied and restless and gone elsewhere on your body to a great expanse of skin. His face nuzzled into the fabric hiding your warmth from him, teeth tearing and fraying the threads that kept your clothes together until you stopped him.

“Stop—wait, wait, wait.” You walked back out of his arms once he was able to recognize the words. He reached for you despite the clattering bonds around his wrist, but you took your time to shuck the clothes from your body and fold them.

Once he had you back, he led you to the edge of the pool of endless depths and sank down inside of it. Your toes touched the very edge of darkness, stirring a rabble of butterflies in your gut that did not dissipate even once he resurfaced.

"Sit.” He gestured right at where you stood. “Sit down.”

The idea of having any part of your body submerged in the black water left you with little desire in continuing this, but you obeyed and slowly lowered your rear to the rim of the pool, legs speckled by goose pimples as the cold water gripped up to the inside of your thighs.

“Yes, good.” He was close enough to push your thighs wide apart and stick his tongue inside of you. You took in a great sucking breath, startled from the suddenness of it and the long, articulate appendage massaging a part of you in a way no one ever had before.

You leaned back on your arms when they weakened and shook from the sensations, eyes flicking towards the drab ceiling, wondering just how far under the living quarters of the lighthouse you actually were and whether granduncle would hear any lewd sounds that were beginning to hum in your throat.

“Keep going.” He said when you moaned, tongue retracted from your body to mimic the ministrations you made with your hand and fingers while you stroked yourself. “Keep doing it.”

He nudged your hand away to put his mouth over that stimulated spot instead, sucking and licking along you with such fervor that you dissolved into hard pants and whimpers, tempted to close your thighs around his head and push him away as the tight warmth inside of you flushed out with a kaleidoscopic burst of color and cool air following the trail of something slowly oozing out of you.

It took a second orgasm and chanting turned to cries to get him off of you. That brief respite ended when he took you by the waist and dragged you into the pool with him. By that point, you were too far spent to have anything but unshakeable indifference to the depths and the cold.

His kiss was as it had been before, rough and restless, forceful in a way that left you malleable and melting against him. Even when he had your front wedged between the rim of the pool and his chest, you couldn't bring yourself to react much.

You felt his thighs mold to the back of yours before the slim tip of his cock pushed into you, the girth of it thickening considerably at the base. The friction of the water wasn't an obstacle for him to fuck into you with greedy thrusts that threw your hips forward, knocking skin and bone against the wall of the pool.

“Oh, oh, oh, oh—” the ridges of his cock were an unusual feeling, catching your walls in spots, spreading you wider when he'd withdraw part way and plunge back inside. “Oh, shit—feels good. Harder. Harder. Harder!”

There was truly never any way to know how much he understood when you said it, something called into question when his thrusts slowed to a stop, but he stayed hard inside of you. For a moment, the water settled along with your heavy breaths and blood gushing through your ears.

Things slowly came back into focus—the dancing lantern light, the room temperature meat, the wicked water in which you were immersed to the waist while the rest of you was braced by him.

He shifted behind you, adjusting his thighs so yours went even wider. Before you could ask the things you wanted to, a new sensation stole your breath—the swollen head of a second cock, different in shape and size from the first, pushed into you and lay flush atop the other.

“Don't—don’t move.” You were struggling to do the same thing with such an enormous stretch you'd never had to accommodate before. Tension built in your throat, whether a sob or a scream or your own anxiety, and stayed there to cinch your voice into silence.

He soothed you with lips and teeth all over your flesh; the back of your neck, the cartilage of your ears and the underside of your jawbone. His large hands left the shelf of your hips and felt along your front side, nipples, chest, stomach, and groin where he tried to recreate the same pleasure on you now as you had done for yourself earlier.

“Good?” He nested his cocks deeper when he heard you moan. The pain of it was beginning to subside, but the strangeness of it remained. “Is it good?”

“Just—just don't hurt me.”

His hands were back on your hips to keep you seated on his thighs while he thrust into you. It wasn't as easy for him to move as it was before, perhaps realizing the limitations of a human companion, but continued in snappy pulses that made the water lap at the skin on your back and turned your thoughts into senseless, garbled things.

Soon enough, you were riding a sloppy, savage rhythm to which you had no control of whatsoever as he chased his end. In moments where he seemed to regress into a natural state, almost animalistic in the way he rutted into you and buried his cocks, one would slip out and go forgotten for a time. The length of it glided against your groin, a smooth motion underwater that prodded your sore spots before he was able to fit it back into place with the other.

Amid your luscious sounds were those of his own; labored, air-sucking rasps that rumbled from places more than just his throat. They were probably never meant to be heard above the surface of water, just as he didn't belong fucking a human while being chained to a wall.

You thought about that fact while the last thrusts he took seated his cocks so deep that you ached, hard surges of warmth flooding your insides in a way unexpectedly delightful. He clung to you with his arms and shackles even well after he had emptied himself in your body and retracted both cocks into their sheath.

After a while, he hoisted you out of the water and followed you to retrieve your clothes. He stopped short of the chains pulling in the wall, watching while you wiped away the remnants of him oozing down the backs of your thighs and redressed.

“Don't go.” He kissed you and let his cold lips linger over yours. “Stay here.”

You returned the affection as endlessly as he gave it, only thinking that sunrise would soon come to pull you apart.

a/n: so, this idea has unfortunately never been able to fully develop from a lack of ideas. with starting this new blog, I'm hoping to get enough interest and feedback to actually commit to this and bring a completed project eventually!!

are you satisfied with how the aquatic monster was written in this piece? what would you be interested in having added/taken away? what do you think could be improved upon/expanded? is there anything you're particularly curious about?

what sort of setting would you like to see this story take place? 19th century, the 90s, or modern e.g. 2010+? are you satisfied with the setting being in cape tellis? a location inspired by lighthouse coastlines with predominately dreary/cool/wet weather? if not, what type of setting would you prefer to see?

in terms of the storyline, are you more interested in seeing: 1) a relative goes missing, so you arrive at the lighthouse he owned to solve the mystery 2) mc being an underwater mechanic to fix a damaged dam 3) mc being part of a small group trying to capture proof of a "creature" lurking around cape tellis. 4) something else???

[kimetsu-no-yaiba-writings]

hi ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

i want to say that i really like your work and would like to try to make a request with douma, where s/o is very random

for example, they just hang out and then s/o gives out a random strange fact like: "did you know that dolphins can fall in love very much and build relationships the same way as people?" or she can run up, pet him and run away, etc

feel free to ignore it! hope you having a wonderful day, love you

and forgive me for my english, it's quite crooked

Hello \(≧▽≦.)/ Thank you so much for saying that anon, that truly makes me happy to hear, also don't worry, your request has been heard loud and clear! And I love it!

I hope I've done your request justice (^ω^.) and please know that your always welcome back to browse and request something from me again.

Your English is great by the way,so don't worry!

Douma/Doma with an S/O who does random things - [Headcannons]:

There where many things that Douma/Doma found boring, in life and with entertainment, but you weren't boring - you were anything but boring

Each day you did (or said) something that tickled his funny bone

Each day you had a new fact, hobby, skill/talent and object that you had to share with him that genuinely had his brain working overtime at how you knew or did that

Douma/Doma finally found something to look forward too each day and it was you and your randomness

Your randomness was cute - adorable even - and it definitely saved you from scenario's that would have ended up with your death (and a rather pissed off and sad spouse) or at least hurt

Douma/Doma enjoys your random fact of the day - that you randomly drop on him at a random point in the day

When you first started your random fact dropping you'd started with facts about the human body during a tea ceremony

"Did you know that the average tongue is about three inches long" You said simply, taking a sip of your tea before continuing "and that the human body can shed about 40 pounds of skin?" - its safe to say that Douma/Doma was so dumbfounded by those facts he over-poured his tea with a rather star-struck expression

Although he does quite like the cute random facts that you tell him too - "Did you know that trees can make friends and talk to each other? Isn't that sweet"

You also had the habit of coming up to him randomly - at different points in the day - and inspecting his hands and tapping three times on his wrist (directly on where his pulse point would be) before leaving without a word

And bopping his nose

And sometimes knocking gently on his forehead

Also you like tracing shapes through his clothes on his back, arms and legs - making him guess the shapes and words you form with your nails

You also liked stealing his fans to use them for something random and/or weird - he once found you using them to cut fruit...

Once you baked a 10 tier cake and brought it in mid sermon with his followers with plates and water

Food was another thing that you made randomly, you baked and cooked new and weird things and brought in for him to try - as well as his followers....

When he sleeps in, it's always a 60/40 that you'll have done something to his hair - You like to fiddle with and decorate his hair and you have once perfectly styled his hair into a plaited mohawk

You've painted his nails - "Oh paint them pink next time love" He'd whined once into your neck "I want them to match the colour of your love~" + "Oh! Like the colour of my organs too?" followed by a blank stare from Douma/Doma

As you both where about to sleep you turned to him, perfect smile on your face and sleep hazing your eyes and said, "I wanna eat you! Just take a chunk cause your too perfect and beautiful for this world" before promptly falling asleep

He has found you trying to do cartwheels down the hall

You've always got something up your sleeve and it honestly brings Douma/Doma so much joy to live through each day, finding out what you had in store

.....you've made a finger puppet version of him before as well as a doll and you have used both as advisors - "And what do you think Wackus Bonkus?" "Kill him" "Oh! You Naughty Wackus Bonkus!"

[suitov]

(A reckoning was not postponed. Not as sad, but warning for bitchy Nagito my beloved and Hajime coping very badly with stuff.)

Hajime had a headache, but it was one of those "slept too long" headaches, so could've been worse. Admittedly he'd been going at it hard lately; everyone seemed to think he'd gone to his cottage and crashed for a day and a half and the general consensus was "about time".

It was worrying because he didn't remember going home, which could've conceivably been down to plain old tiredness, but... waking up missing a chunk of time had another, far worse, possible explanation.

His headache wasn't going away. In fact, it had called in reinforcements in the form of Komaeda, who was hovering in a way that meant he wanted to say something. Hajime, the only one left at the breakfast table thanks to his late rising, stubbornly shovelled eggs onto his toast and the resulting tasty mess into his mouth. Maybe Komaeda'd go away.

Komaeda sat down opposite him.

"There's something we need to discuss, Hinata-kun." Started no conversation Hajime wanted to have, ever.

Hajime grunted and downed a slug of juice.

"It can't wait long, so is now a good time?"

He put down the glass. "Actually, I've got something I need to do after I eat."

"Ah." Komaeda leaned back. "That'd be what I want to talk about, actually. I take it you mean your daily hate monologue in the mirror?"

"How the hell--" He stared. "Have you been stalking me?"

"No, I haven't." Komaeda had his hands folded. No idea what that meant.

"But then how... oh gods, you haven't." The only way Komaeda could've been told his personal business was if... something had been out.

"If you're asking have I spoken to a certain person, then the answer is yes."

"Komaeda!" Hajime slammed the table. His plate, glass and cutlery flew everywhere; Komaeda winced. "That's dangerous! I don't let that thing out near the rest of you for a good reason! It could attack any moment!"

Komaeda drew breath and sighed obnoxiously.

"Did it chase you down? Did it hurt you?" He frantically scanned the sickly twig for injury. "What the hell did it say? Did it tell you to do things? Try to turn you against me?"

"Hinata-kun, stop." That firmness in his tone was unusual. Gods, now he'd be panicking over every little difference in their behaviours until he found out what that demon had been doing. A day and a half without supervision! He clutched his head. Really not helping the headache situation.

"I said stop," Komaeda ordered. Damn guy actually ordered. It was so weird, Hajime calmed down for a moment.

"Just... tell me if that creature hurt you, yeah?" he managed.

"He did nothing of the sort."

"But it spoke to you, right? After everything... it's not supposed to talk to people! I thought we'd reached some kind of understanding, I --"

"Hinata-kun, listen to me. What you're doing with Izuru, it's not working. It has to change."

He gawped. "Tell... tell me you're not on a first-name basis with the poison inside my brain!"

Komaeda was taking this far too calmly. Who paused to examine their fingernails at a time like this? "Hinata-kun, just listen to how you talk about him. Izuru is not a thing. He's not a creature and he's not poison. He's a living being and he's in pain."

"He's in pain?" Hajime really wanted to throw something, but that was his dark side and he wasn't going to let that thing win a single further step forward. "He... it is pain. It's sheer evil, Komaeda. You can't treat it like it's a person. Don't you know the things it did? The attacks, the deaths?"

"I hardly think any of us has grounds to talk about that," sniffed Komaeda.

"No, see, you guys were brainwashed into it. That woman found your weaknesses and used them to destroy you, mould you into whatever she wanted." He waved his hands about, trying to portray spooky brainwashing vibes. "That thing joined her happily. It was a willing participant! It knowingly--"

"But did he, though? Is that really true?" Interrupting-Komaeda was an unfamiliar and... kind of an unwelcome Komaeda. "Izuru was a child, Hinata-kun. A brand new, vulnerable life. The rest of us were forced into despair. Izuru never knew anything else. He was created by brutal experimentation, kept in a darkened cell and trained like a dog. Who could make an informed choice under those conditions?"

"He had the whole of human knowledge to call on," Hajime scoffed.

"And absolutely no life experience."

"Fine. Fine." He really didn't want to continue this conversation. His eggs felt like they were curdling with his orange juice. "You think he's a poor little baby and you want to excuse his war crimes..."

"I just find it strange that you're capable of excusing everyone else's war crimes," said Komaeda with infuriating reasonableness. "You know what Hanamura and Owari got up to. You know the damage Soda's contraptions did to the atmosphere. I'm pretty sure you heard what I did in Towa."

"Yeah but--" He flailed for a cutting rejoinder. "None of that stuff was me, Komaeda."

Komaeda tilted his head.

"That gross pile of evil impulses you call Izuru -- that's not even its name, you know, it's just a historical figure -- is me. It's the worst side of me. That's all it is! It's what I'm really like, underneath, if I was given ultimate power and no conscience to hold me back. There's no 'him' there, Komaeda. Whatever it said to you, whatever master scheme it tried to recruit you to -- Izuru Kamukura isn't a person. It's my Jekyll and nothing more."

"Hy-- never mind. Do you want to know the evil scheme he wanted to enact, Hinata-kun?" Nagito's eyes were sharp green ice. It reminded him of that one trial. "He begged me to kill him. He wanted to find a way to end himself without harming you, or, failing that, to lock himself away forever. That was after he cried in my arms for hours and told me how much he hates himself. Why, compared to how he speaks of himself, the way you talk about him is positively kind!"

Hajime sat back. That was... no, that shouldn't be true. Manipulation. It had to be. Twist Komaeda's head all around and send him to tell off Hajime so he'd... let his guard down, he supposed? Get angry and make a mistake? How dare that beast touch him? It sounded like they'd got positively cosy. He wasn't sure how he felt about his own body being held in Komaeda's arms. Despite trying to treat everyone kindly, he hadn't totally forgiven the guy for... well, all that stuff in there. Plus, he got weird feelings when he saw him smile.

"Anyway. As I said, things need to change." Damn Komaeda anyway, falling for... well, tears and begging did sound effective. That thing had all the same talents Hajime did. Acting, analysis. It was no wonder someone like Komaeda... what was he saying? "...propose is something like this. Izuru needs an advocate. If you're not able to talk to him directly, which I still think would be the best option, then I'll volunteer for the role. What's that look about? You don't think I can handle him?"

"No," said Hajime simply.

"Well then, we'll have to agree to disagree on that point, Hinata-kun, because nobody else on this island is capable or, I expect, willing."

"You can't just decide--"

Komaeda rolled his eyes. "Oh, forgive me for my presumption. When your current management strategy is working out so well." Well, damn. He was starting to miss the obsequious Komaeda from the sim, the one who would constantly praise and support him, instead of...

Wait, no! That was wrong! That was Evil Hajime again! He wasn't that person any more. He refused to be. Dammit, keeping that beast contained was what this was all about! He must never hurt anyone again, couldn't Komaeda understand--

"So." Komaeda nodded to himself and tapped his fingertips together as if everything was nice and decided. "I'll keep a look out and the next time I see him, hopefully when he's not so distressed, I'll talk to him. So you can leave me any questions you have, or constructive suggestions you want me to pass on. And perhaps there is some way to let the two of you talk. Who knows? It'd be quite the stroke of luck, huh?" Komaeda smiled and Hajime forgot all the excellent arguments he'd been about to make.

"I still think this is a terrible idea," he grumbled.

"All yours are worse," Komaeda said simply, and got up from the table. "Don't worry so much, Hinata-kun. You've built this up in your head into something horrific, but you should have more hope. My poor Izuru is nothing like what you're afraid of."

My?!? Izuru?!?!!

"I'll leave you to finish your breakfast in peace. You should clean that up before it stains." Komaeda, that infuriating bastard, tucked his chair neatly back into place and left, having ruined Hajime's day very effectively.

He collected up the scattered remains of his meal and went to make a big hot chocolate. He felt like needed it, after all that.

[lizz-crimson]

So No Head? (Shinnok's Head X Reader Part 3)

We back!

Summary: Shinnok spirals as he realizes he actually does things for you, even when you don't ask.

Tags/Warnings: Cursing, knife wound, Deliberate decapitation, Shinnok spiraling, Netflix, grocery shopping, Two Johnny Cages oh god, goofiness, Shinnok eats a lot, gender neutral pronouns (please let me know if there's any mistakes!)

Words: 2149

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

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It was an odd thing. To see a once powerful Elder God scarf down so much food. Apparently, losing a chunk of his power had made Shinnok's apatite skyrocket. As he savored every bite of cheap, frozen eggrolls, you hoped he didn't mind they'd come from the main back of your freezer. He'd eaten you out of house and home, and it had only been a couple days since he regained his body.

As you finished up your own meal, you asked," You get enough to eat?"

Shinnok, with a mouth full of eggroll, nodded. You nodded in turn, sitting back in your chair with a sigh. Your fridge was empty, as were your cabinets. All except for a small container of cinnamon, which Shinnok practically hissed at once he tried some.

Besides the food, Shinnok had behaved okay. He slept on the couch, quite a bit more entertained now that he could scroll through Netflix himself. You two argued over what to watch now and again, but you both ultimately settled on animal documentaries each time. It was hard to find the fallen Elder God intimidating when he was so enthralled in lion pride dynamics.

"Y/n, what are you making for dinner?" Shinnok asked.

You huffed, sitting up. Shinnok's bottomless stomach was slowly killing you. And considering he ate a whole cake, it was probably doing the same to him.

"Water soup," you replied curtly. Shinnok raised a finger, about to ask, but you cut him off with your hand. "You've eaten everything. There is no more food."

"Lies. I know you must have something."

"I don't."

"Then what will I eat?"

"We. And nothing." You push yourself up and out of your chair and start doing the dishes, taking Shinnok's empty plate. Shinnok sputtered as if your lack of food was a malicious joke. You again raise your hand, splashing him with a bit of soapy water. "There is no more food. I'll buy more tomorrow."

Shinnok groaned. He used to be all powerful, feared, and worshiped. Now he had to conform to a mortal's schedule. "Fine, I will accompany you," he huffed. If he was made to wait for his meals, then he'd at least get to pick what he wanted.

"Yeah, that's a hard no," you said.

"What? Why?" Shinnok asked, his voice daring to grow angry when he looked like a hellish priest.

"No offense, Shinnok, but not even Wal-Mart would let you inside the building," you replied, now drying the dishes. "I'll go by myself. I'm sure I'll be back with something you'll like." He'd eaten everything else; no doubt he'd eat whatever she'd bring home.

Shinnok pushed himself up from his chair, his hands going behind his back. "Bah.." he grunted, then sat on the couch. You rolled your eyes and started putting the dishes away. He was a whiny sonofabitch. Still, you two tolerated each other.

Shinnok wasn't accustomed to all this, and even with his body back, he couldn't help but feel frustrated. Damned Quan-Chi for taking his throne like that. He ought to just kill him himself. Even so, as he looked your way, he stared. You'd become so… normal to him. Even though you went against literally everything he originally stood for. He didn't mind waking up to the loud music you played while you took your morning shower. He didn't mind watching the apartment while you were at work. He didn't mind 'earning his keep' by doing chores. He'd become some kind of well-treated servant. Some butler. Some… what was that one anime called?

He quickly scrolled through the shows he'd watched on Netflix, and the anime he was thinking of came into view. Ah, yes, househusband; that was the word.

As the anime played automatically, Shinnok's brain seemed to let the word sink in. Particularly the husband bit. He glued his gaze to the TV, praying to himself that the warmth on his face was from embarrassment and nothing more. Maybe talking to you had damaged his brain, as he thought would happen originally.

Suddenly, your body landed beside his. "Is that 'The Way of The Househusband?' Move it; I wanna watch!" you said, nudging Shinnok aside with your hip. The fallen Elder God sputtered and nearly jumped to the opposite end of the couch.

"Don't just-!" He was cut off by a Coke being shoved into his hands.

"Found one for you," you said, your eyes on the TV.

Shinnok's nose curled. He snapped his head back to the TV, about to open the can, but paused.

"You didn't shake this, did you?" he asked.

"I might have."

The next morning, you were at the grocery store as promised, list in hand and mailbag on your shoulder. You'd started using it as a plain old purse after Shinnok got his body back. Since he was no longer a head, you figured it could be of better use that way.

Which is probably why you didn't notice the familiar weight in the bag.

"[Y/n], are we at the store yet?"

"Oh my god!" you yelped. You frantically open the bag and see Shinnok's re-decapitated head looking back at you. "I-what-are you serious?!"

"Shhh!" Shinnok shushed you. "Someone could hear!"

You were appalled. Quickly, you covered Shinnok up and dashed into the bathrooms. You're quick to lock a toilet stall behind you.

"What the fuck?" you ask, pulling Shinnok out of your bag. He looked just like he did before he got his body back.

"What?" Shinnok asked, not understanding your confusion.

"Where's your body?" you asked through gritted teeth, prying anybody else in the bathroom just thought you were high or something.

"Back at the apartment," he replied similarly.

"What the fuck do you mean 'back at the apartment'?" you laugh out of shock.

Meanwhile, a beheaded Shinnok lay limp on your couch, covered completely by a blanket. You just thought he'd been sleeping..

Shuttering at the thought, you placed Shinnok back in your bag.

"Let's just… Lets just get this over with…"

During your shopping, Shinnok bombarded you with many questions about all the different foodstuffs he spotted while peeking out of the mailbag. Luckily, it was early, so there weren't many people in the store yet. You tried to make the shopping trip go by as quickly as possible, and any time you spoke to Shinnok, you put your finger to your ear as if speaking via Bluetooth call.

You groaned as you looked at the prices of all the fresh produce. Prices had gone up lately, and you had no interest in paying five dollars for a head of lettuce. You pushed your cart on by.

"I thought vegetables were important for you humans?" Shinnok said, raising a brow.

"They are, but the price is awful, so we'll wait for a sale," you said. "I oughta just grow my own at this point."

"Why don't you?"

You sigh. "We don't live in the countryside, Shinnok. Don't you know how much space you need to make a garden?"

"Then move there?"

You caught the attention of a few staff members of the store when you straight-up belly laughed. You were quick to shut up and push your cart along. You lowered your head, whispering.

"Believe me, if I had the option to, I'd be deep in the Appalachian Mountains by now. I'd rather deal with cryptids than New York as a whole."

You spent the rest of the shopping trip explaining what cryptids were to Shinnok.

Later, you're carrying two mountains of groceries to your apartment door. When you finally unlock the door and push it open with your forehead, you were frozen in place as Shinnok's body hung limply off the couch. The blanket that had been concealing him had fallen to the floor. You close the door behind you quickly, making sure nobody sees. You fling your bag onto the couch, with Shinnok groaning in displeasure as he rolls out.

"I assume you can attach yourself back, right?" you asked, hands on your hips.

"Yes, yes.." Shinnok rolled his eyes. "Come. I'll need your aid."

You nodded and picked Shinnok's head up. "Now what?"

"Just hover my head over the stump of my body, and I'll reattach," he instructed.

Lowering yourself to your knees, you set Shinnok's body up a bit, then hover his head over the stump of his neck. At least he hadn't bled all over your floor..

A red glow appeared between Shinnok's two body parts and began to swirl around, engulfing both his head and his neck stump. You closed your eyes when the light blinded you. When it died down,… Well, when it died down, you were still holding Shinnok's face, attached to his body once more.

The two of you kind of just.. looked at each other for a bit. Shinnok, feeling a rather uncomfortable sensation in his chest, broke the silence when he couldn't take it anymore.

"You can let go now."

"Right, sorry!" You snatched your hands away. Shinnok stands along with you. Both of you kept your heads turned away, as you do. Luckily, your gaze fell to the mountains of groceries, and you used that to transition away from this awkward situation. "Come on, let's put these away," you said.

Shinnok grunted curtly and began helping you put all the food away.

Shinnok couldn't help but look back at you, sneaking glances. You had been good to him. Something he didn't deserve in the slightest. And as he put the spices in the order you told him to, arranged the frozen foods in the freezer, and helped you cut up pork for dinner,… he couldn't help but feel like he wasn't doing enough.

He hated that feeling. Why? Why did he want to do something for you, his jailer? Why had he still been teaching you dark magic? Why had he not returned to the Neatherrealm and overthrown Quan Chi? Why did he want to sit next to you on the couch? Why does his fucking chest hurt?

"OW!"

"Shinnok?" Your head snapped in his direction. He'd been cleaning the dishes. It was odd, as you hadn't even asked that time. The bit of blood on his palm and the kitchen knife on the floor alerted you, and you went over to him.

"I'm fine," Shinnok said. He was about to put his hand away, but your own hand took it before he could. He froze.

"Always do knives by themselves when doing dishes, okay?" you said, taking a mini-med kit from the counter and dressing his wound.

There it was—that sensation in his chest again. You bandaged his hand so skillfully. You'd done this before, clearly. Likely to yourself. Stupid mortal. Stupid mortal, with your gentle hands and good food. Wretched mortal for the kindness. Abhorrent mortal for the.. the.. well, everything!

"…Right," he replied.

That night, Shinnok lay on the couch. You'd long been asleep. You had work tomorrow, after all. Shinnok already agreed to vacuum the apartment while you were gone.

Damn it all. He wasn't helping himself by doing all these things for you. He felt like it wasn't enough, which he hated.

After another hour of spiraling down a tunnel of why, how, when, and curse words, he came to the decision that he would need to do something else for you. Something other than doing dishes or helping cook. He needed something big, something that would sate his desire to just do things for you.

You'd left your phone on the kitchen counter. Shinnok had a pretty good idea of how to use it. It turns out Netflix can teach an old god new tricks. Now… where was he?

Chats: Two Johnny's, One [Y/n]

[Y/N]: Johnny Cage.

Annoying Johnny: Yo, [Y/n]! Dude, you will not believe the hottie I have in my bed right now! Wanna pic?

[Y/N]: This is Shinnok. I have no interest in your hottie. I need something that requires your wealth.

Old Man Johnny: Woah, what? What the hell are you doing with [Y/N]'s phone?

[Y/n]: Why are there two of you?

Old Man Johnny: Long story now what the hell do you want?

Annoying Johnny: Chill out, old me! Clearly Shinnok saw my new movie on Netflix and wants in on the next one!

[Y/n]: No. That film was horrendous. I demand you both listen to my words!

Shinnok growled at the phone screen. Two Johnny Cages… What was his mother thinking?

He jolted when the phone began to buzz in his hand. He quickly tapped the green symbol and put the phone near his ear, like he'd seen in the movies.

Johnny Cage, the older one, spoke.

"What the hell are you planning?"

"Something for [Y/n]."

There was a pause on the other line.

"For [Y/n]?" Johnny asked.

"Yes. For them," Shinnok replied.

Johnny rubbed his temples.

"Okay. Hit me."

---

Shinnok: ew feelings *barf emoji*

Heyo, hoped you liked this part! I plan on one more part to this so stay tuned! Also this story is now on my AO3 account! The link is on my pinned post! This part will be added there soon!

These vine reference titles are getting outta head *bu-dum-tis*

[whumpsoda]

For the Malak-roommate au I’m imagining if Malak works as a wood worker or construction worker will come home absolutely exhausted

cut to Adrastus having dinner ready and thralling him as he eats and leads him to a warm bath. It’s violatingly gentle, and Malak will not remember it in the morning, but in the moment his battered overworked body will sink into Ad’s arms

(Also it’ll be so so strange to hear Malak speak confidently with little to no stutters—as from what I’ve gathered the stuttering stems from long term enthrallment, correct me if I’m wrong though)

WOHEO Masterlist

Chilly and sniveling in the silent, night air, Malak pulled out his keys with clammy fingers, clamoring to turn the lock as soon as possible. The knob was cold to the touch, freezing up his clammy fingers as he stepped inside, hit with a wave of warmth. “‘M home!”

He could’ve melted into a puddle of bliss as soon as he walked in. After hours upon hours of hard work and labour, finally coming home to his cozy, shared apartment was a blissful feeling. He was so immensely tired he could have keeled over into sleep right then and there. Overwhelming the sickness soon coming over him, radiating heat seeped into his skin.

Though, it seemed he was hit with something along with the heat, something flavorful and vibrant to his nose.

And maybe-

Maybe something else… something that made his head just a little fuzzy… maybe he was just tired…

“In the kitchen, dear!” Adrastus called back - always with the pet names, no matter if he was older or not - leading him along with their voice as he ignored any urge to put down his things or rid his feet of wet boots, mind overcome with a hunger that rumbled up a moan from his belly.

The countertop, along with a table fit for the two of them, were lined with plates and platters of the most delicious looking dishes Malak had ever laid eyes on, drool slipping over his lip as he took it all in.

“Well hello there, my darling.” Adrastus swiped the oven mitts from their delicate, slender hands, a perfectly pink apron tied around their midsection. They strode with confidence, taking him by the cheeks. “I made this all for you. Feel free to dig in, please, honey.”

Jaw falling slack, their touch had his jaw going slack with a pleasurable numbness, slurring out, “All… for me?”

Trailing their fingers tenderly down his arms, they took his hands in theirs and guided him to a seat, taking all the time his heavy, weighted feet needed to get moving. They pulled out a chair and gestured for him to sit. “Yes, of course.” As he sat, slumping into his seat, they rolled their palms over his shoulders. “Feel free to get cozy now, okay, baby? Nice and warm and drowsy and cozy.”

Sighing out a breath of air he sunk into his chair, sipping in a smell of all the food that sat before him, a smile strung over his lips. “Mmm….”

“Dig in.”

Tummy groaning out once again, Malak looked for silverware, yet couldn’t seem to locate any. A hand snuck into his curls, scattering his thoughts in an instant, prompting him to simply cut through what looked to be a pan of sticky macaroni and cheese with his hands. Adrastus giggled at that, and a giddy blush crept onto his face.

“Do you like it?” They whispered, breath blossoming over his ear as did a liveliness in his tastebuds. Vigorously Malak nodded, spooning handfuls of whatever was in reach into his mouth. “Don’t go and choke now, baby.”

Shoveling more between his teeth, he lazily gave them a nod. “‘Course not… uh… um…,” their name - or… title - was on the tip of his tongue, it always was when he got home and everything was all light and bubbly, yet he couldn’t seem to unblock the thought.

“Master.” They supplied, helping Malak like they always did, and his smile widened into a toothy, dopey grin.

“Master…” he mumbled around chunks of food, delicious flavors bouncing up and over his tongue, so many so good he couldn’t name them all with his brain running so slow. That seemed right though, in a way.

“Oh, you cutie pie.” His master cooed, pinching his cheeks and planting a peck to his forehead. “Aren’t you just a little mess now? Eating with your hands like a little baby. Maybe it’s time for a bath.”

Lighting up, Malak’s expression brightened impossibly further. “Batthhh…?”

“Yes, darling, a bath, I just know you love those.” Hoisting him up with minimal effort - an action that seemed strange for a flicker of a second before it was brushed away by the cloudiness of his mind - Malak’s master carried him out and into the bathroom.

“You just sit here and watch the tub for me, okay?” They instructed, plopping him to the floor beside the tub.

His attention was quickly caught by the run of the water. “Yes… masterrr…”

It seemed almost like hours that the water trickled from the spout before it was full, but if Malak was all there he would’ve recognized it only being minutes.

“Alright, you climb right on in, it should be nice and comfortable for you.”

He did as told, crawling into the bath, letting free a pleasant shudder at the magical temperature that coated his flesh.

Their hands suck their way into his locks, frizzy and unkempt, caressing around the heavenly scritches and scratches of their nails. “Mmm…” sinking into their hold, Malak’s eyes fluttered quick to a close, nearly asleep.

“Sweet and sleepy, are you baby? It’s alright, master will keep you nice and safe while you doze. Sweet, sleepy, and docile you are. Sweet, sleepy… and docile.”

Taglist- @softvampirewhump @iys-cloud @battyfantasy @xx-adam-xx @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl

@mylifeisonthebookshelf @mis-graves @3-2-whump @whump-till-ya-jump

If anyone wants to be removed or added to the taglist, please let me know! :)

[tobiasdrake]

So, the film opens with the atomic bombing of Nagasaki in WWII. A scene I'd love to hear a Japanese perspective on because it feels weird to me.

So, they see two enemy planes flying towards Nagasaki which is that city across the bay. Immediately, the entire camp goes into a total panic.

Soldiers are fleeing the camp on foot.

The officers all get together to commit seppuku together.

Yashida releases all the POWs from their camp. He does this by slicing off the padlock with a katana. I don't know the physics well enough to know if that would actually hold up, but I do know they're setting him up to be an Anime Warrior Superperson so I'm not going to question it too much.

They also take a moment to note that Yashida made this choice in the heat of the moment. There were no orders to release the prisoners; He's just demonstrating his own kind heart. This is conveyed through a guard in a tower shooting at the escaping POWs until Yashida yells at him to hold his fire.

Logan, down in a pit, apparently knows a lot about atomic bombs. Enough to know that a bomb delivered by a B-29 to Nagasaki will wipe out this military base across the bay. He calls out the type of plane specifically like, "Oh yeah, that's the A-Bomb plane, those deliver A-Bombs".

Logan is a Canadian foot soldier who's been imprisoned in a well for an indeterminate length of this war. Would he be able to see an American B-29 in the distance and go "Yep, that means an atom bomb is incoming; better hide in a well to avoid the blast radius."

Then the bomb goes off.

Yashida looks directly into the flash and is totally fine. Um.

Logan then grabs Yashida and jumps back into the well with him. He can't seal the well, so he grabs a big chunk of metal that I guess was just lying around and throws that over Yashida.

Fortuanately, metal is famous for its ability to remain cold under intense heat. So while Logan gets barbecued by atomic fire, Yashida is safe and sound save for one part of his face where the heat got in through a small hole in the metal plate.

Yashida gets up and watches a smoking husk of meat regenerate back into a man. Reasonably freaked out by this, he tries to exit the well, but Logan stops him.

Logan looks up at the sky and sees all the nuclear fallout in the air. So he makes Yashida stay down here in an open-air hole in the ground where the fallout can't reach them.

Honestly, Logan seems to know a startling amount about nuclear bombs. Was he on the Manhattan Project?

This is all....

I dunno. This is the Nagasaki bombing, so Hiroshima just happened three days ago. So it's not like they wouldn't know what's coming. But I don't know. This whole "OH MY GOD THE AMERICANS ARE COMING KILL YOURSELVES OR RUN LIKE HELL" thing gives me a strong whiff of history written by Americans.

I don't know. Maybe I'm just paranoid due to the lack of any Japanese creatives involved with the making of this film. I have no idea what this moment in history must have been like on the ground. I can't even imagine. But this feels very Hollywood.

I cannot say with certainty that any of this is wrong. I am not a scholar of nuclear physics, nor am I well-versed in Japanese military culture circa-1945.

But this whole scene just feels weird to me. Either I don't know enough to explain why this is all wrong, or I don't know enough to understand that it's actually right. But I'm definitely having the creeping sensation of knowing that I don't have enough information to parse what I'm seeing.

(As an aside, I have seen some people point out that this is a dream sequence to explain away how weird it feels. But I don't accept that explanation. What Logan is dreaming up is clearly meant to be the memory of a real event that he lived through. Yashida is not a made-up giraffe man his brain invented to process his feelings about WWII. The events of this day in Logan's history drive the rest of the film.)

[goodlucktai]

soft ground, claiming moon

out-monster the monster

@natsumeweek 2023 day 1; sun/moon read on ao3

(next) 

x

The worst part about all of this is that Shuuichi found out by accident.

Natsume was uncharacteristically energetic on the phone. Not so much excited as anxious, and not overly so by any normal person’s standards, but Shuuichi knew him just well enough to tell.

It wasn’t his place to pry. But Shuuichi spent a good chunk of his time worrying about that boy, small and overshadowed and terribly lonely, so maybe he was entitled to prying just a little.

“Any big plans this weekend?” he said conversationally.

“Oh, uh, I don’t know if you’d call them ‘big,’” Natsume replied, with the slightest trip in his tone that would have been a huff of laughter if Shuuichi was talking to anyone else. “All of us are staying at the temple. Tanuma’s place, I mean. Even Ogata and Shibata are going to be there.”

“So it’s a party,” Shuuichi teased, something in his heart going soft the way it always does when he’s reminded that Natsume has a big group of chaotic, good-natured friends who are happy to go out of their way to spend time with him. “I didn’t know you had it in you! Especially since you fight tooth and nail to avoid going to all the ones I invite you to.”

This time, Natsume really did breathe out a laugh. It was a big personal win for Shuuichi.

“Definitely not a party,” the kid said dryly. “At least, not by your standards.”

“Well, it’s at least partly a party if the whole gang’s getting together. What’s the occasion?”

“The full moon rises on Saturday,” Natsume explained, as if that was a very normal thing that normal people were both aware of and planned events around. 

“If you tell me Taki has finally turned you into a witch, I’ll be very disappointed,” Shuuichi said, only half-joking.

“I don’t want to be a witch or an exorcist, thanks. I have enough on my plate as it is, don’t you think?”

Considering one half of his bloodline’s very storied history, and the gift—or curse—his heritage granted him, Shuuichi has to admit that Natsume makes a compelling argument. It’s a mark of how far they’ve come that they’re able to joke about it with each other on the phone.

“Satchan’s probably going to be too tired to do much of anything,” Natsume was saying. “I think we’ll mostly wind up napping and watching movies.”

Ah, the small-town mountain life, Shuuichi thought to himself, not unkindly. He would have gone insane with boredom if he was stuck in Hitoyoshi at fourteen, but Natsume, who has lived in a dozen different places in half as many years, genuinely seems to love it. At least there’s relatively less trouble for him to find out there. 

At least he’s well-protected from people like Shuuichi out there—people who made a career out of hunting down people like Natsume.

Shaking away the grimmer thoughts, Shuuichi asked, “Do I know Satchan?” 

He was familiar with the names of Natsume’s friends, given how often Natsume talked about them, but that one wasn’t ringing a bell. 

“Oh, uh, I meant Nishimura,” Natsume said quickly. He sounded embarrassed. “That’s—Kitamoto calls him that.” 

Saving the cutesy nickname as mockery material for another day—they would definitely be revisiting that—Shuuichi said, “Ah, your friend with the excellent taste in movies! Is he not well?”

“He’s fine.” Natsume’s tone took an oddly defensive turn. “We’re taking care of him.”

Something about that pinged in Shuuichi’s brain as very weird, but a lot of conversations with Natsume did that. If he stopped and wondered about every strange thing his young friend said, he’d never get anything done.

It’s not until much, much later, when Shuuichi is juggling emails from his agent about his role in an upcoming period piece and exorcist correspondence regarding a grudge in Osaka, that it occurs to him what weirdness, exactly, the back of his mind had picked up. 

A few weeks ago, there was an animal attack out in the forest that all the children frequented. Shuuichi found out through Touko, who called him to explain why Natsume would not be making the trip to Tokyo to visit him on set after all. Satoru was in the hospital, she told him. Natsume hadn’t gone to school in days, camping in the boy’s hospital room with their friends. They could hardly be budged. 

It was so strange, Touko had said tearfully, because no one in town had a dog anywhere near big enough to do that kind of damage. And there certainly weren’t any wolves left in Japan.

He had reached out to Natsume the next day, sending him a paper man that delivered the question, Do you need my expertise? 

He was a monster hunter, and it was a simple, unacknowledged way to ask if there were monsters at large in Kyushu. Natsume’s reply came within the hour, the talisman paper turned brittle with the powerful signature of his magic. It was ozone and static electricity, the wildness of nature. The touch of it contained the barest hint of a threat. 

No, it read. We’re taking care of him. 

“Fuck,” Shuuichi says out loud, to Sasago and Hiiragi’s disdain and Urihime’s delight. He’s up and moving a second later, barking over his shoulder for the familiars to begin sealing the doors and windows, setting up the barrier, preparing the house for an extended absence. One never knew how long a job might take. 

Shuuichi yanks open a cabinet door in his workshop. A neat row of silver tools glint with promise beneath the warm lamp light.

There is at least one wolf left in Japan. 

[magic-is-something-we-create]

HI I AM COMING TO BEG U FOR HELP HOW DO YOU MAP OH MASTER OF ART

HELLO HI I AM HERE TO AID U MY BROTHER IN ARMS!!!

this got very long and i tried to cover things that helped me when first getting into hand drawing maps, but if there's any other places where you're struggling let me know!!!! ive got a lot in my brain im just going from broad to narrow here :)

BIG SCALE:

great ways to make continents that look like continents include

- peeling an orange or equivalent citrus messily and laying out the pieces of peel, and copying those shapes pros: realistic coastlines that would fit together like in real life, if you get into the nitty gritty these can also serve as tectonic plate templates. cons: messy. might not have oranges on hand. can be hard to scale up and transfer to digital - getting some paper and pouring a bunch of doodads of some kind on it, then clumping them in vaguely the shapes you want and tracing the coastlines. things i have used in the past include dry macaroni, beans, dice, and paper stars. pros: potentially less messy than oranges, more control over the shapes, scales up easily cons: coastlines will be less realistic tectonically if that's a concern (for both of those i usually then take a picture of what i get and start editing in my drawing program of choice from there)

other strats to try: taking a grungy brush in your drawing program of choice, making it Huge, and scribbling a few clumps, then on another layer going in and tracing around the edges to make the coastlines. using a map from real life and cutting chunks out and rearranging/copying/warping them to make a collage you can trace for coastlines. etc

SLIGHTLY SMALLER SCALE:

country borders were, until quite recently, determined mainly by geographical obstacles like mountain ranges, rivers, canyons, oceans, etc that are very hard to cross. also borders will be highly disputed when it comes to warring states or eras without, like, satellites and bureaucracy and such!! making them fuzzy or jagged or having areas where both colors mix or stretches of land where no one knows where either country ends is in fact very fun and cool and sexy

mountains usually are chains, and so are islands. i like to make big curves across the world map where i think it would be cool to put mountains, and when those curves extend into oceans i like to put island chains on those as well. if you choose to do whole ass tectonics with your orange then do those on plate borders

biomes can get really specific in their placement if you want to be hyper-realistic, or you can put them wherever you like. personally i like a little realism a little "fantasy world can have whatever you want in it". deserts are usually on one side of mountains, and on the other is really lush. the higher the mountains the larger the areas and more extreme the difference between the two. outside of that case, youll usually get forest > grassland > desert in a gradient. also remember there are multiple kinds of everything

HOW TO DRAW THESE THINGS

good ways to draw rivers include: tracing blood vessels from photos where you can see someone's veins through the skin, dead trees or lightning, or cracks in stone. theyre all fractals and how detailed you want to get is up to you. BUT they always flow downhill and eventually meet the ocean (the ultimate downhill), usually starting in the mountains. also those fractals all go kinda reverse of what you might think; the ends feed into the main river, not the other way around. i used to mess that up a lot

PROTIP: canyons and the like are almost always old riverbeds. use the same method as you do making rivers, just widen the brush, maybe draw a border around the shape instead of just a line

mountains: personally i prefer using premade brushes for mountains just because the one (1) time i did them by hand it took me like four hours for one mountain chain. this video has some tips on different mountain styles if any of those look good to you, otherwise there are about a bajillion videos like that out there!!

biomes in general: just a little texture is usually plenty! doing some bushy edges on deciduous forests, pointy bush edges on pine forests, a few little grass lines and sand dunes, etc etc is usually plenty to get the point across :)

SMALLER SCALE

roads are personally the bane of my existence. i try to treat them like rivers just a little straighter, depending on what time period you're emulating you might go curvier. also they dont care about maintaining width or what direction the fractal goes in humans just put those shits wherever they walk a lot. in contrast railroads are usually pretty straight, simply because trains are built different than cars or wagons or people

cities are almost always on a source of freshwater and a valuable resource that draws people for work in the early days. also they'll have like 10-20x the landmass of the city itself in farms around them, less if theyre on the coast and have access to lots of seafood, more if theyre more landlocked. those farms can be farther away if theyre more industrialized and can transport the food en masse easily. you also dont have to draw the farms just kinda mention them in the story if relevant

towns can be on smaller rivers, lakes, or even just by natural springs. you wont find permanent settlements in places where water isnt accessible (unless you have magic to fix that which is always a cool detail)

EVEN SMALLER SCALE

city maps i have 0 advice on other than roads get thinner the fewer people travel on them, industry will be on a very different side of town than the rich people for smell and noise reasons, and especially when emulating pre-car times, think about how far you would feasibly walk in a day. if you want characters to be able to know pretty much the whole city that they live in, it's gotta be reasonable for them to walk to the farthest edge of their knowledge and back home (or to an inn) in a reasonable timeframe, if they have a home. also big cities tend to have colleges, trade schools, and a bajillion and one jobs that need doing. magic cities might need mages to maintain infrastructure, non-magical cities need people who light the streetlamps when it gets dark, waste disposal is Hugely Important, etc etc etc

it can sound boring at first but coming up with the odd maintenance jobs people have to do in cities can be a really fun creative exercise, and it might inform how the city is laid out, too!!

IN CONCLUSION

think of the world in layers. landmasses + oceans -> biomes and geographical landmarks -> countries and borders -> settlements -> districts. i literally have those on different layers in clip studio so i can futz with them more easily.

also realism is not the be-all-end-all of this. there's lots of room for symbolism and environmental storytelling in maps, as ive ranted about in the past, and stuff doesn't have to make absolute sense in the real world to work well for your world. breaking the rules is like, art 201 and it applies to ever part of the art in question <3

i hope this helped!!!! again pls let me know if you have any more questions i love helping out :D

[kookies2000]

Just because that one "Tiger and the Dragon" fact brought me back to my Tigress x Po shipping heart from my childhood!!!! I will now gush and give every detail as to why I shipped it and still do!!!

Ever since the first film, Po obviously has a crush on her. The first sign was when he was locked out of the Dragon Warrior Ceremony in the first film. After a good while of trying to get in, he gives up and sits down while everyone enjoys the ceremony. But the very second Shifus announces Tigress, Po becomes even more determined to get in. It's a clear fan boy crush but I'll be darned if this isn't one of the cutest things ever. It's even cuter after Tigress breaks two plates in the air and Po gawks at her skills. The creator's even nicknamed the piece of rock he tried to take after Tigress broke it the "Love chunk." You don't give a nickname like that just for no reason!!!!!

The second film is self-explanatory. Don't need to say a single thing but I will anyways. They work well together as a duo in battle. And it's just cute to see Tigress throw Po around and Po is just enjoying it. The concern Tigress has for Po throughout the film in general. You can't see her showing that level of affection with anyone else. It's obvious from everyone's reactions that she doesn't hug others at all. And I don't have to mention this but I will. The fact Tigress took a canon shot for Po. I know she's the leader and would take a shot for anyone but this is storytelling!!! Everything is put there for a reason. And this scene was put there to deepen their relationship. And I have to make this reference. The titanic scene. 🤣🤣🤣 Oh come on!!! How are we supposed to describe that scene? Anyone who has seen it 100% thought it or said "Come back, Jack...... Come back, Jack Black!" The only difference is that the one that was on the floating wood was "dying" while the one in the ocean was the one that got saved. Oh my goodness, I still remember watching that scene for the first time. I cried so much.

The 2nd one felt like they were building something between them and then they dropped it in the 3rd one. Or some say. The third film didn't have much but that doesn't mean they just dropped the relationship. Throughout the film, you can just feel it. There's something about the way they interact with each other. They are comfortably close to each other both physically and emotionally. You can't see that for Tigress with her other friends. Mei Mei! I love her character, she has the confidence that I always desire to have. ❤ But I do say she added more to Po and Tigress's relationship. A little background, I read this years ago so my memory is fuzzy. Mei Mei and Po were supposed to be engaged through an arranged marriage from birth. Mei Mei was on board with the marriage while Po was uncomfortable about it. They dropped the side story though but you can still tell it's there in the background. It's a matter of a "show don't tell" situation. So yeah, Mei Mei pretty much flirts with Po throughout the film up until Tigress shows up. And just the way Mei Mei says "Who's she?" itches my brain. It just feels like she recognized a close bond between them right away. After the battle, Mei Mei decides to flirt with someone else. It feels like they are building a romance between Tigress and Po but they're building it slowly in the background so it doesn't get in the way of the story. I guess we just have to pick up on the clues ourselves.

But I love that. A romance doesn't need to blossom in front of our eyes and be smacked in the middle for everyone to see. And this may be my asexual and demi-romantic side speaking but, I would LOVE to see a romance that starts as a deep friendship. There aren't many animated films that do that. The one that comes to mind is Nick x Judy from Zootopia. It starts as a deep friendship where the two have a clear platonic love for each other. But it can turn into a very healthy romance. I just adore those relationships. Establishing a deep respect and connection first for a year or so before developing a romance.

But I do want to say this. The only way I can see these two being in a romantic relationship is if they keep the romance in the background as they have been in the past three films. Just to make it feel natural. And we're gonna need a moment where we see Tigress's past and Po helping her through it the same way she helped him in the 2nd film. And please, a moment where Tigress is vulnerable like Po was in the 2nd film. I feel like they already set her on that track in 3rd film. They had her bond with a baby panda. Softening her up and making her look more vulnerable without making it cheesy. I like that. Softening through a child rather than softening through romance. It feels natural. And I have seen a few people worry about a "Hero saving the princess" trope. I'm kinda in between? I think? The thing is, I can see a situation like that happening but done in the same way in the 2nd film. When Po goes to rescue Tigress and the others from Shen. Or when Tigress takes the canon for Po. A situation where one rescues the other but in a way that isn't dramatic and it results in the two working together. Teamwork thing!!!

Welp! Other than that, I have poured my shipping heart empty........ I think. 🤣 I'll be back if I need to do another shipping gush. But I should clarify that I don't mind what happens in the next films. It won't be the end of the world if they don't become canon and it won't be the end of the world if they do. Platonic or romantic, it works either way and I just want more moments with them!!!

[t4tozier]

First and Before the Beginning for any WIPS you wish, and - if you want - POV for any part of IKIT so far posted that you wanna do!

okay so the way i've started to write things is in chunks and connecting the scenes later, not necessarily in order, so the first line from pool boy porter rn isn't going to be the first line of the work overall :)

“Damnit!” Jace hits the steering wheel in frustration and turns on his hazards as he pulls over to the side of the road. “Perfect. Just perfect,” he mutters.

i think i'll do both of these for ikit, actually :)

before the beginning:

"Iljasi, meet your new knight."

Jace stares up at the armored goliath in front of him. He's massive; he's surprised they even had plate for him. He's also incredibly handsome. His lips part, lashes fluttering as he racks his brain for anything to say.

"Well, don't just stand there, Iljasi!" The queen's voice shocks him back to reality. He jumps, and without any prior warning, he feels his body morphing.

The knight reaches out, grabbing the potted violet before it can fall to the ground. "I see what you mean, now, Your Majesty," he says with amusement.

"He'll...turn back eventually," King Riandor tells him, thinly veiled disgust on his face. "I do apologize, Sir Cliffbreaker. You see why we prefer to keep him sheltered."

The knight shakes his head, grinning down at the violet. "'s'alright, Sire. I'll keep him safe."

i haven't written any scenes that i've specifically thought of from porter's pov yet, so let's switch things up and write from miriel's pov instead :)

Jasi's tower is far, but Maegie had sounded quite fearful. That doesn't often happen anymore. So she rushes up the many winding steps to the tower and bursts through the door.

Immediately, she is greeted with a scene from her worst nightmares. There's blood, so much blood--though she is a cleric, she has never truly seen blood like this. Maeglin is down on her knees next to the bleeding paladin, and Iljasi is sobbing. She hates that most of her memories of him involve tears. Still, years of conditioning from their mother and father kick in--there's so much blood--and she can't help herself from crying out, "Oh, Jasi, what did you do?"

She sees her brother jerk back, but she's fixated on the bloody giant on the ground, who lets out a groan of pain as lightning sparks along his armor. He can't control himself. As much as it pains her to think it, she can't help but be relieved when Iljasi removes himself. It'll be easier to heal Cliffbreaker this way, and she doesn't need to worry about becoming the accidental target of one of her brother's episodes.

[prismartist]

a medium rare occurrence

part 6 (final) of To break bread, the series about soulbounds and food.

Ao3

–––

“Why don’t you eat?” Scott asks during one of their brief, very painful encounters.

Pearl gives Scott an amused look. “What do you mean? Of course I eat.”

“Yeah, but not enough. You know how often I get so weak from hunger pangs?”

“Of course I do!” Pearl giggles. “I’m the one causing them!”

“You’re really trying to get us killed, huh,” he bemoans.

“Sure am!”

Scott gives a hard, disparaged look that lasts a second too long, then walks off, snow trailing from his jacket. Pearl can’t shake the feeling that he’s up to something.

Pearl’s never been the most conservative of people, at least in this world. Everyone knows it. Her soulmate knows it. She herself even knows it. 

Still, she’s aware that living off the land and a few stalks of wheat isn’t ideal. She can barely make half a stack of bread every day—which starts to get stale after a while—and any animals are few and far between. Even the meat is mostly unseasoned, half-raw and tasteless on her tongue, which is numb from the snow most of the time. 

But she knows Scott can feel the frequent pangs of hunger, and she takes whatever comfort she can get from that fact.

She climbs up her tower after a long day out doing, well, the usual torture and menacing. When she pops her head up, gasping as if coming up for air, there’s a sign and chest waiting for her. 

Pearl freezes, bracing herself for a threat of some sort. Another Red message wouldn’t be much of a surprise. She stands, approaches it cautiously, until she reads the small script written neatly in cyan dye. 

Saw you only had wheat. Thought you might want better saturation. Please eat. xoxo, ur ex.

Inside the chest is a paper bag full of beef steak, still warm. Seasoned and marinated too, judging by the scent. It fills Pearl’s brain and makes her mouth water to the brim. There’s an urge, the unhinged side of her that’s snapped since the beginning, to just dive in and devour the whole bag then and there. Instead she takes a deep breath and a piece of paper from her inventory—clean, she thinks, hopefully—and uses it to grip one of the steaks. In another world she might’ve put it on a plate, enjoyed it with carrots and potatoes and rice, but one can’t really afford any pleasantries. 

She starts to bring it to her lips, but halts. Does she really want to accept Scott’s gift? A few hours ago they were staring each other in the face as snow dug into their skin. She has half a mind to refuse, to chuck all of it to Tilly and let her and her soulmate starve. 

But her stomach growls like her wolves, and oh god, there's seasoning on this.

So Pearl holds the steak up to her face, breathes in the scent once more; it hits her like a truck this time. She bites off a chunk and lets out a satisfying groan, the juice running down her fingers and chin.

It’s the best thing she’s had in weeks.

–––

Scott smiles as the taste of his own cooking floods his tongue, and the annoying hunger dissipates in his stomach.

“Thank god,” he mutters to himself, amused at the overwhelming umami. She must be devouring it. That’s on brand for her.

There’s a knock at the door, a rhythm only Scott would recognize. “Come in, Cleo.”

Cleo walks in, holding a leather bag. “Heeyyy.”

“Hiya.” Scott eyes the bag curiously. “What you got there?”

“Gift from an ex.” They walk over to him, untying the string. “Had a surprisingly lovely bonding experience with him.”

Scott raises his brows. “Is that so?”

“That is indeed so. But don’t tell him that.” They open the mouth and tilt it so Scott can see the loaf of bread within, cut in half and filled with pulled beef. “Quite yummy stuff. I dunno what he put in the marinade, but whatever it is, it’s good.”

“A date with your divorced soulbound? Must be a night of miracles.”

“Midnight magic, I guess.” Cleo shrugs, then scrunches closed the mouth and hands the bag to Scott. “How’s your kind-of offering to your maniac of an ex?”

Scott takes the bag. “It’s going well, actually. I currently feel like I’m stuffing my mouth with meat.”

Cleo giggles. “Lucky you.”

“I know.”

“Well, that ought to last you two for the next couple days.”

“God, I hope, because I know she’s not going to eat anything after this.”

Cleo gives an amused smile, then turns. “Well, I best be off. Have fun with your ex.”

“I will. Night, Cleo.”

“Goodnight, Scott.”

They shut the door behind them, and Scott lays down, enjoying the taste of steak. He waits for Pearl to finish his gift before he drifts off, feeling sleep take them over at the same time.

[emeraldcreeper]

👀?

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

Oooh this one’s fun, but all my wips are already half posted or so vague that it wouldn’t be very fun to talk about them, so you’re getting me talking about a future chunk of resurrection and rebuilding, which has one chapter out (sorry sweet routines you’re sort of on my back burner right now and I’m restructuring my plans for it mildly, like moving scenes up so I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing with it outside of like next chapter generally being Ed and Stede talking/Stede’s brain combusting and a phone number swap leading to a first date)

Anyway, for resurrection and rebuilding, (hopefully my links work, the site is back up so it should be fine) the current part I’m working on is Izzy accidentally getting caught when he’s stuck inside when it rains (he’s sleeping outside, freshly alive again it’s a long story go read it) effectively next chapter is Stede finding him and effectively making him promise to eventually tell Ed that hes... not dead, since its the polite thing to do when you're assumed dead and later having moments of Stede being slowly eaten alive by guilt that he's lying to his boyfriend, and Izzy having zero clue that the work before it (retirement plans) occurred at all until Stede tries to get them to talk and it fucks up terribly (not fatphobically its feedist kink work, its fine, Izzy's very cool with the fact that ed is chubby even if Ed is like what the fuck really, its a general everyone's stressed out that it didn't work fuck up).

then like two chapters later give or take probably two, a room gets set up for him because he needs to not sleep on the bedroom floor of a happy couple (even if its gonna be a throuple, its directly after Ed learns he's alive, there's Development that must occur first) and after that Izzy has a slight breakdown that leads to some solo dinners with Ed to talk about things and not be scared of him again

oooh and there's another scene later on like while Izzy's having his moment of anxiety/stede bringing him food because he cant leave his room without getting nervous he'll panic again, where he can't sleep so he raids the kitchen and gets himself very full and very sick, Stede notices missing food/more dishes so after asking if it was Ed, knows its Izzy, with his breakfast leaves him tea, knowing how he takes it and Izzy effectively goes oh that's why Ed loves him so much, he notices shit, and later it does devolve into a delicate lecture of like i don't mean to starve you, why'd you do that, I've got a scene for this, so you get a treat

He heard the footsteps leave his door, he got up, after getting his prosthetic back where it belonged, and he opened the door, finding his breakfast. And tea. Someone must be in a good mood. He sniffed at it tentatively, in case it had sugar, he could tell by the color it didn’t have milk or cream in it. He sipped it, bracing for the sugar to hit his tongue, even if it smelled normal. He must be in a really good mood. It was black, even if it probably offended them both he put nothing in it, Ed had always joked it was his masochistic streak, drinking it plain. He hadn’t said anything about it in years, probably to avoid arguing about it, and Izzy made their tea before Stede did, but he still thought about it every time he had tea, or coffee, rarely as he’d get to have it. He took the plate and mug inside, put them on the desk, and then shut the door before he settled in to eat.

and because the floodgates are open, there is an epilogue chapter I've got half written with a scene I'm super jazzed for that's set after the end of the fic, to post separately, that's Izzy coming back to the inn (from eventually going back out on the revenge as begrudging but loving it captain) and finding Stede and Ed left him roses in his room (yellow for a welcome home and red for romantic love) and having left him notes in his stuff when he left, its very sweet and cute and hinges utterly on me fixing shit in the previous work so its not done past being utterly self indulgent and to not lose the idea because it is adorable ( i have bits for this but it hard not to post the whole thing and make this post longer, so if you want to see that too, please ask for it, im happy to share snippets)

I realize now i rambled on for a while but i had fun getting to do that, so thanks for the ask

[chronicallysweet]

aika + amma — valentine

summ. aika tries to make brekkie in bed for her husband

per. narrator / third person

pt. oneshot

caution : sexual references , suggestive , cannibal yuri !!

it was relatively early in the morning — or atleast as early as aika’s brain would allow her to get up , of course.

she awoke to her husband , ammatudori , still fast asleep in the bed although he still had a vice grip on her waist as she slept. but luckily , being small actually worked in her favor as she slowly slid underneath the ruler’s large arms and off of the bed , a slow creaking noise following behind as the mattress lifted and she took a second to look at amma , their chest slowly rising and then falling as they breathed.

it was oddly .. domestic feeling. her heart skipped a little.

nonetheless , aika had to work , and quickly. she really didn’t know when amma would wake up and she hoped it wouldn’t be any time soon , because she had been planning this one thing for a very long time.

the truth is , she’d never had a valentine before. out of all of the years she’s lived , throughout mortality and being an archon .. she’s never had a real valentine. no one had really cared for her that way it seemed. and although she remembered every ‘rough patch’ as she called them with amma every so often — she still couldn’t help but to melt over the fact that they actually cared for her.

she made her way into the kitchen , pink robe dragging along the clean marbled floor as she approached the fridge , taking out a carton of milk , around four eggs , and a chunk of mystery meat that was tightly wrapped up in aluminum foil, a few droplets of blood falling onto the floor as she took it out , which she made a mental note to clean up later.

she cracked the eggs in a small bowl and whisked them together , watching as they all melted together into one big amalgamation of yellow before she set a heart shaped pan onto the stove with a little bit of butter and poured the mix into the pan, watching all of it spread into the shape of the pan, forming a pretty yellow heart. she set the eye of the stove onto low heat so that she’d have enough time to prepare everything else — she had it all memorized now. a list , even.

— meat

— cute eggs

— pancakes

just as she’d remembered.

she then took out another big pink bowl , one that she vividly remembered obtaining from focalors a while back. a lovely gift for a lovely lady as she’d once called it. aika began to pour her dry ingredients into the bowl before distributing the wet ones the exact same way , adding a few drops of crimson red liquid from a small bottle into the mixture before she resumed her mixing process with her wooden spoon , watching it marble before it had become slightly pink. oh — and she couldn’t possibly forget the chocolate chips.

she distributed the pink mix into a smaller heart shaped pan , listening to the sweet sizzle of the butter as it poured and shaped itself into the pan. cooking always got the best of aika , it made her so happy .. especially when it was for someone she loved.

she took the eggs out of the pan once they’d cooked through fully , sliding them off of the pan and onto a white plate which she placed on the table , and at this point the smell of the breakfast had wafted into the air and all over the kitchen , the scent eventually making its way to the bedroom where ammatudori lay only half - way asleep now , noticing the absence of his bunny bride not long before faintly seeing her small figure moving around in the kitchen.

the truth is , perhaps amma had done their fair share of stalking and heard of aika’s plans long before she had even gotten that far in the process of preparing , listening in on her conversations with xiao about the subject and going through just a few of her folders that revealed the lists of everything she’d prepared to do , the times she prepared to do them , and it all added up to today. ammatudori had been awake for quite awhile now , growing impatient and immediately wanting to make contact with aika , but they wanted to give her the satisfaction of atleast getting through half of her plan before appearing behind her and watching her work.

and so they did.

as soon as a full stack of pancakes was placed on the counter , amma almost instantaneously appeared behind aika , a cold hand snaking around her waist as she jumped , amma lowering themself down to her height and whispering into her ear.

“ all of this is just for me , doll? ” they cooed , hands moving underneath her apron as they watched her struggle to focus on the chunk of meat in front of her , the pace at which she cut becoming slower and more aggressive as a light pink blush spread across her face.

she only gave them a slow nod , struggling to actually make eye contact with them. it’s not like amma minded , though. they only found it adorable. “ you know you didn’t have to do all of this .. i wouldn’t mind having something else to eat for valentine’s day , dear. ” they said , this time a little louder to elicit more of a reaction from aika .. and they did! her lips curled into something that sort of resembled a scowl now as she looked at them through the side of her eye.

“ you’re right - maybe i shouldn’t have. ” aika said through gritted teeth , the cutting of the meat growing more aggressive , and if she hadn’t stopped , it would’ve just been mincedmeat by now — but she had just enough self control to stop and slip out of amma’s grip completely , bringing the plate to the table alongside the rest of the food and sitting on a chair , mood slightly swayed by the fact that amma was fooling around.

they slowly made their way to their seat .. wait no , not their seat , actually.

they instead decided to walk up to aika , who had her arms crossed and a pout on her face as she turned away from them.

amma , of course , being the ass they are , simply stood up completely straight , took around two steps back , and simply picked aika up.

“ waitwaitwait !! what the hell are you doing ?! put me down now !! ” aika yelled , screaming and kicking as if she were a child throwing a tantrum — which amma was used to , of course .. so it didn’t really work as planned. they only chuckled and threw her over their shoulder before making their way to the bedroom.

aika was still punching at their back and yelling as if amma would change their mind , but they didn’t.

“ you know , i prefer breakfast in bed , doll. ~ “

and ,, fin !

rest in peace to aika’s cervix. we love u!

[phandoz]

Morning Debrief

For Week 8 @writer-wednesday

Summary: Benjamin Miller is a better gossip than cook.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F Reader

Rating: Explicit, 18+ Only folks

Warnings: Some swears and brief mentions of sexy times

A/N: Gave myself half an hour to vomit this idea out of my sleep deprived brain at 1am and for that, I apologise.

"I'm sorry about the eggs."

Benjamin Miller apologised sheepishly from where he sat opposite you.

You smiled down at your plate. As much as he tried, he really was a terrible cook.

"Don't worry about it," you managed to get out through a half chewed mouthful. "They're a bit like my brain at the minute," You speared a chunk of the white rubber that was once an egg. "A bit rough around the edges."

"I heard you get in late." He mentioned offhandedly. "Good night?" It seemed like innocent, light conversation but you knew Ben well enough to know better.

"You could say that. What is this, your morning debrief?!" Your eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"That's exactly what this is and you are trying to avoid the question. You pulled, didn't you?!" He waggled his eyebrows at you, thoroughly pleased with himself.

"You could say that."

Your eyes remained on your plate but you could see Benny lean forward in anticipation. Here we go.

"A lady never tells though I suppose..." He trailed off dramatically.

"You know, I think that's one of the nicest things you've ever said to me."

He held his hand to his heart in a mix of sadness and offence but you both grinned like idiots at each other. Your efforts to dodge his prying would only last so long. You knew this from experience.

You had originally stumbled into each other's lives when you had moved to town and were looking for somewhere to live. You needed a room and you suspected that he needed to fill a lonely house with some company more than anything. Regardless, the two of you had fast become close friends.

The kitchen was quiet bar the sound of cutlery on plates as you both persevered in eating Benny's abomination. The silence didn't last long as he tried again for more details.

"So, who is this mysterious stranger you met after my fight?"

"After your fight?! You're taking credit for it then?

"You could say that."

Using your own words against you. He was feeling cocky today. You scoffed as you took a sip of your now lukewarm coffee.

Benny wrinkled his nose at the mug in your hand. He gave you shit for it ever since sending you some stupid BuzzFeed article that said people who drank black coffee were more likely to be psychopaths. You might just prove that this morning.

"All I'm saying is that he must be a massive fan of mine if you met him at the bar during my celebratory drinks."

You smirk. If there is one thing that will make him back down it is playing him at his own game. If he wants details, he'll get them.

"He was massive alright." You replied nonchalantly.

Benny's eyes widened and he choked on the last of the eggs he had been shovelling into his mouth. "I didn't think anything could make this breakfast taste worse, but there you go. I think I've lost my appetite."

He pushed his chair back, deliberately letting the wooden legs grate over the floor like nails on a chalkboard. He smiled innocently as he stood, knowing the noise made your eye twitch in annoyance every time, before turning his back to you at the sink.

"Good for you though. It's about time you got back out there after that last asshole."

He was right about that.

"Well, I'm glad I have your blessing, oh wise Benjamin" you joked, trying to lighten the serious turn the conversation had taken.

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah I do." Did you ever. "Thanks Ben."

You saw a shadow cast from behind you appear on the floor. This should be good. The figure crossed the threshold silently into the kitchen and you soon felt warm arms slide down to your waist before giving you a light squeeze. You let your head fall back until it hit a solid stomach, closing your eyes as a warm smile spread across your face. You felt pleasantly loose this morning despite the late night activities you engaged in with the man now stood behind you. Late night, early morning, it was all a blur. One hazy, sweet, orgasm filled blur that left you wondering why the hell you hadn't done this sooner.

"I just want you to be happy." Benny continued none the wiser, the sounds of him viciously scrubbing the blackened pan filling the room. "We've been living together for like, what, three years now?"

"Mmmm," you replied distractedly as the arms around you slid up to your shoulders, "Best three years of your life, right?"

"Obviously, but you're like a sister to me."

A nose in the crook of your neck gently nudged your head to the left so plush lips could latch on to your neck.

"You deserve to be happy. I keep saying the same thing to Fish you know. You two are as bad as each other."

Teeth grazed across your skin before a tongue darted out to sooth along the same path. "Oh yeah?" You managed to smother the waver in your voice. Why hadn't you done this sooner?

"Yeah. I'm pretty sure I caught him checking out your ass the other day though, that's a step in the right direction I suppose."

"Francisco Morales..." you tsked in mock scandal before a calloused hand squeezed your breast through your tank top in response, thumb flicking across the nipple teasingly.

"You know if lover boy were still here, he would be more than welcome for breakfast, right?"

"Oh, he knows." The man behind you stood up straight and moved his hands innocently to the back of your chair as he finally announced his presence.

Ben's back straightened immediately. "Fish." He turned, hand on one hip in his best attempt at an overprotective brother stance. "You old dog." It might have been intimidating if not for his shit eating grin.

Frankie bent down to redirect your fork of eggs to his own mouth. After chewing for far longer than expected he politely declined any future offer of Benny's.

"I think I'll pass on the offer of breakfast. Jesus Christ Ben, you still can't cook for shit."

"Well you're more than welcome to do better."

"I can and I should. But, I actually had something else in mind for breakfast and it doesnt involve you."

"Ugh, in my own house Fish?! This is a kitchen. People eat here."

"I can eat here if you want."

You happily watched the back and forth between the two friends over your coffee as Benny's jaw dropped the moment he got the innuendo. You also found yourself subconsciously rubbing your thighs together under the table, the skin there anticipating that same delicious scratch of facial hair from the night before. This confidence. It was a good look on Frankie and damn if it wasn't doing something for you right now.

"You know what, I'm going to the gym and then I'm going to Wills. I can't deal with this right now."

"Don't hurry back." You chirped

"You sure?" Benny looked right at you as he stage whispered. "Fish is getting pretty old these days."

"It's not so bad," you shrugged. "Flying for all those years has really paid off for him. Great with his hands. He does this thing-"

"Alright. Just stop." Benny held a hand up, the other hastily snatched his keys from the counter, and headed for the door. "Just message me when it's safe to come back or something."

"Fine." You conceded, "But as I was saying-"

"No! Bye!" The door slammed shut and Ben's truck could be heard starting up only moments later.

You looked up to Frankie where he stood at your side as you sipped your coffee, licking your bottom lip for the stray drop that may have been intentional on your part.

"You know," Frankie cleared his throat, dragging his eyes from your lips back up to your eyes, "I read somewhere that coffee before sex gives you better orgasms."

"Honestly, what is it with you guys and your shitty BuzzFeed articles." You rolled your eyes.

"Benny sends me at least one a day." Frankie shrugged.

"What is he, like fifteen? Of course he does."

You swayed your hips just a little bit more than usual as you crossed to the sink, placing your dishes inside for later when you could think about anything else besides what Frankie had planned for you.

Before you know it he is behind you, hands gliding down your sides before slipping into your sleep shorts, grabbing a handful of each bare cheek.

"Well, their research wasn't conclusive. You going to finish that?" He nodded to your mug.

"And you are nothing if not thorough are you. Bottoms up, Morales" You wink over your shoulder as you tip your head back onto his shoulder to drink the rest, the angle giving him a clear view of your cleavage while pushing your ass back into him.

"Mmm, bottoms up." His voice rumbles next to your ear, giving your ass a playful slap. "That sounds like an excellent idea."

Tags:

@tuskens-mando @littlemisspascal @asta-lily @radiowallet @aliwritesfic

[how-masterful]

31 Fics Of Fright

Day 15- Museum of Memory

Missy X Reader

Prompt: Fear

Notes: Written under the watchful eye of @plethora-of-imagines , i think not only is this the longest fic i’ve written but also my favorite one so far. Writing in the same google doc is so fun!

Warnings: None

When you were seven the biggest concern in your life had been the monster under the bed. The perfect storm of the amalgamation of fears that had swirled and congealed in your ever growing brain. The world around you was changing, not just in the way that you had to keep buying new clothes every growth spurt, but in the outside world too. The universe was evolving, the edges of your reality and science fiction bleeding into something unspeakably confusing. It was like the pictures in your books had come to life, playing upon the news every night.

Your family had tried their hardest, but the world had been changing for years. Alien incursions had been rapidly growing in number, from the terror of shop window dummies coming to life, a giant robot roaming the streets, to the conflicting accounts of what the heck happened to concord.

The news would play the most terrifying reports, giant pictures of these cosmic terrors plastered across every screen you dared to look at. Your dreams were consumed by dark visions of aliens and monsters, robots with eyes on sticks chasing you down the street, dinosaurs biting chunks out of your roof. It frightened you. But you were only small, so young. Who could have blamed you?

Now you were much older, and your view of the dark forces in the universe had shifted rather dramatically.

Not just because you’d seemingly entered into a romantic relationship with one of them.

“Oh, how darling.” Missy preened, approaching the museum with you on her arm.

You had no idea how you’d managed to convince her to join you on your visit. You’d grown rather interested in one of the artifacts they’d had, the rabbit hole of the TARDIS library guiding you onto endless paths of unstoppable research.

Missy found it rather cute how interested you’d become in several elements of history, always ready to amplify your knowledge. Especially if she was able to twist the history into something more exciting- or rather more dangerous.

“They’ve got one of the oldest plates of Vanka here, the entire language can be decoded on it like the Rosetta stone.”

Missy turned to you with an unimpressed expression.

“Dear, you seem to have forgotten about my translation matrix. Can’t we just steal the baby and go?”

“Ah, that's the best part!”

“Oh, is it now-”

“The whole thing’s in code. It’s been hidden under centuries of mistranslations to the point where the original code was lost to time.”

Missy sighed, taking a sip out of the white and green coffee cup. You’d insisted on a coffee and museum date, and the Timelady had been rather interested to see what the fuss was about when it came to pumpkin spice. Safe to say she hadn’t been as thrilled as you were with the fall beverage, kicking at the sprawling leaves on the floor like a disgruntled child.

“I hope the exhibit is better than this coffee.” She muttered, heels elegantly ascending the steps.

“If you don’t like it, why don’t you get rid of it?”

“Alright, where’s the nearest human sized waste bin?”

“Missy!” You cried, faux scandal etched perfectly into your features. Missy grinned, that wicked smirk you loved so dearly, as she pulled you into the exhibit hall.

“I came here once, when I was thirteen.” You said, taking rapid pictures of the disk on your phone. You’d found it finally, wrongly attributed to the ancient Egyptian section. You knew a few people that would be mortified as such a miscatalogue. Missy stood to the side, arms folded as she stared at one of the perfectly wrapped mummies.

“I think I went for drinks with her once.” She muttered to herself, staring down at the corpse.

“I was on a school trip, it was ages ago. We were supposed to write notes about our favorite exhibit and present when we got back.”

“And did you get an A plus on your presentation on fuzzy wuzzy wittle dead penguins?” She teased, inching closer to stare at the circular disk of text.

“Actually I wrote it on the alien artifacts they had upstairs.” You replied absentmindedly, scribbling down observations and notes into a small purple notebook.

Missy instantly perked up, her proverbial ears standing on end like a puppy invited to play fetch.

Instantly she grabbed hold of your arm, physically yanking you away from the disk. You almost dropped your notebook in her tugging, her definite strides causing her heels to clack against the floor with determination.

“Missy, i’m not finished!”

“You can look at the pictures later, you kids and your darn smartphones!” she called over her shoulder with a Texas twang.

“I want to know if they’ve got any of my old stuff!”

You almost tripped over the bottom step as the Timelady began to yank you up the north stairway, her eyes searching for any signage like a hawk searching for prey.

She pulled you into the corridor, looking wildly in each direction until she found exactly what she was looking for. The entranceway looked no different from all those years ago, the giant letters above the curved archway declaring the items inside to be not of earthly origin. Missy tugged you firmly by the wrist into the exhibit.

The memories flooded back into your mind, your much smaller stature wandering in with a combination of wonder and fear. You were in the middle stages, not as scared as you were, but also easily victim to nostalgia. You hadn’t realized you’d stopped in the middle of the walkway until Missy was inches away from your face, staring at you with strange concern.

“Sorry,” You whispered. “Just remembering.”

“Did it frighten you?” She asked calmly, all merriment and dramatics replaced with sincerity.

“When you were a child, did you write that report because you were frightened?”

“I think… I was trying to prove I wasn’t. Y’know, like exposure therapy. Can’t be scared of something if you know exactly what it is.”

Missy smiled, carefully winding your elbow to intertwine with her arm. You watched the small gesture, staring ahead at the darkened corridors with dwindling apprehension.

“Just think,” She began, taking slow steps, guiding you towards the exhibit with distracting grace.

“You’re much older than you were, you’ve seen enough things to make a grown man cry. How many of those old codgers in there have you met with me?”

You pondered for a moment, not realizing just how close you were getting towards the display cases.

“And how many of their asses you’ve kicked. Maybe you’ll see some old favorites. Maybe you’ll know so much more than you did before.”

The mistress guided you to stand in front of the first exhibit. You turned to stare at the old cyberman head, looking the rusted metal up and down. You smiled, looking athe wrought metal of its handlebars. Maybe this was your doing.

“See?” Missy grinned, watching the smile on your face with a new fondness.

“Oh, I remember this!”

You continued to excitedly revisit the exhibits, the terror of your past being replaced by the newfound whimsy of your present. Old foes were new memories, what had given you nightmares as a child had turned into funny encounters that were destined to become family stories. Traversing the exhibit on that Autumn day with Missy had made everything seem so much better. You peered at the old UNIT beret in a cabinet, your attention suddenly stolen away.

“Oh my god, here it is!” You heard Missy shriek behind you, followed by the aggressive smash of glass.

You span around to see the towering glass of the case come crashing down to the floor, spreading across the display floor into a sea of sharp danger. Missy stood on her tiptoes, desperately yanking something off of a wobbling mannequin with her umbrella hooked on her arm, before resulting to pull the bodyform down to her level. You stared in awe as she pulled the large red robe from the figure, admiring the shining silk and black neck sash embossed with the sigils of the star signs.

“I’ve been looking for this for yonks now! That Sargeant Benton in his stupid red trousers, I told him i’d have the last laugh!”

A loud alarm began to blare over the speakers, the shrill chimes of alert making Missy cackle harder with delight.

“Don’t just stand there, grab that golden chain and run!”

You acted on her orders, yanking the goat head chain from the display and following her as she ran back through the exit and out of the door.

“I’ve been hoping to match our Halloween costumes for MONTHS!” she clamored, grinning as you caught up to her side.

“I’ve got this gorgeous sacrificial white dress for you to wear!”