#absolutely love this idea anon!!

[therainywriter]

Mistaken (Fluff/Suggestive)

Pairing: Rh’auk x Reader

Request: Hi, I’m a massive fan of your writing and I adore your yautja fics, but I have to ask if your consider writing something similar to the jealously fic. Like reader is jealous thinking one of the much larger women yautja are trying to court your mate, only to find out your mate is jealous cause it’s clear the woman is trying to court you instead.

Your mate was in a meeting with important members of the tribe, occupied inside the hut you sat outside of.

You weren’t sure what it was about, though you were curious now, hearing their low, muffled clicks. You smiled, recognizing Rh’auk among them.

The breeze was warm and humidity comfortable, you couldn’t help but lean your head on the tree you sat against, letting your eyes shut and mind rest.

You didn’t fight it when you began dozing off, Rh’auk would be a while anyway.

When he finally emerged from the hut, he found you where he left you, only now you were sleeping peacefully.

He was beyond fond of his precious little hooman, wanting nothing more than to scoop you up and nap the evening away.

Alas, there were things to be done, tasks he couldn’t brush aside, not even for you.

He crouch in front of you and brushed a clawed finger against your cheek, waking you gently with pets and small kisses.

You grumbled at first, so cruelly being pulled from your light slumber.

But once you saw him you grinned, arms finding their way around his neck as you pulled him into a tight embrace.

“You’re back,” you mumbled happily, nuzzling yourself closer.

His chest rumbled lowly, mandibles clicking together occasionally. Your warm greeting making his heart melt- as it does only for you, “Yes, I am back ank’te.”

He lifted you to your feet with ease, immediately missing your arms around him as you released your hold at his neck and stood with a small yawn.

“How was your meeting?” you questioned, interlacing your hand with his larger one as you began your walk back home.

He thought for a moment, “It went well. There is much to do in little time.”

You nodded, pressing a quick kiss to his arm, deciding not to push for details he didn’t wish to share.

You felt slightly aggravated when a female Yautja stopped you and Rh’auk in your walk. It was ridiculous how often they fawned over your mate, even with you clinging to his side.

She was strong and tall, bigger than Rh’auk, but still delicate in a way. Gold accents of jewelry rest upon her skin in a beautiful contrast, shimmering with each movement she made.

You couldn’t help but feel a bit insecure at her powerful elegance. She was worthy, worthy of a male such as Rh’auk.

Her eyes were soft as she looked at you, but harder when your mate spoke their native tongue, demanding her attention.

Rh’auk seemed more territorial than aggressive towards her. He growled and snapped at her words, whatever she was saying, he really didn’t take lightly to it.

They seemed to be arguing, a part of you worried they’d begin fighting.

You flinched when she hissed, mandibles flaring before backing off. She gave you one last soft glance as she wandered elsewhere.

You looked up at him confused, “What was.. that about?”

He grumbled, “She wished to challenge me- to court you,” the words came out sharply, fading into indecipherable, sharp clicks.

Your eyes widened, oh.

“There is always one to threaten me for you. What am I to do?” he picked you up bridal style, continuing walking whilst he glanced down at your wide, surprised eyes.

“You are lucky I did not take you then and there for everyone to see mei’aki.” he huffed, making your body heat up at the mere idea.

“I thought she was trying to court you,” you said after a moment, fingers absentmindedly tracing the deep scars on his chest.

He shook his head, the sharp appendages at his jaw moving as he chittered, amused.

“She is not the only female who has sought you out ooman,” Rh’auk seemed so sour again at the idea of anyone stealing you from him.

You kissed his chest, feeling the way his hands tightened on your skin, “You’re the only one I’ll ever call my mate,” you said sweetly.

He couldn’t help but stop in his tracks and lean down to kiss you, your words meaning far more to him than you’d ever imagine.

He could only think to show you how much they meant to him.

[beescake]

im a sollux kinnie and ur art is great. like a delicious meal. 1 million courses. my compliments to the chef.

AOGHHH TYSM I REALLY APPRECIATE IT

in gratitude i present a little guy doing setup for the first time 🐝

[spacebubblehomebase]

I LOVE YOUR AU SO MUCH GIVES ME HAPPY TINGLES AND I'VE BEEN HYPERFIXATING ON IT FOREVEER YOU ARE ONE AMAZING AU WRITER!! (me when author creates another amazing masterpiece) (you)!

THANK YOU! TvT I know I mostly post art, but writing is also one of my passions!!! So it's nice to know you're enjoying the story so far. 🥹🙏 Even though we just got past the introduction stage. But if you already like what we have for now, let me just say none of y'all are READY for when we reach the turning point of my AU! "The Dreamers" is the goal at the moment. That's all I'm gonna say. 😉✨ So as we wait, have this lil' doodle I made up just cause I remembered I can!

Till then! =D

-Bubbly💙

[somegrumpynerd]

(talking about your new post)

I expected Blue and ink , BUT DREAM?????

I DIDN'T EXPECT HIM TO DO THAT

(Of course considering if they even knew they were getting ambushed, but if none of them knew that the MTT was there it is also very funny )

(The post in question)

Yeah when I wrote it I was thinking of them accidentally decimating the MTT boys while trying to get away but @bobateaboo had tags about the stars not even realising they were there and just knocking them out and it was way funnier lol

(But also, I think Dream should get to choose violence every once in a while. as a treat)

[bixels]

What did/do you like about Pharah?

Uh, gameplay-wise, I really love characters in shooters who rely on three-dimensional movement techs. Chaining together hover and jump to stay in the air for as long as possible and keep momentum is so satisfying, and picking enemies off from the sky made me feel like a bird of prey. I was a good Pharah main.

Story-wise, there unfortunately isn't much to canonically go off because Pharah is so underutilized and neglected. Her personality's pretty boilerplate "heroic hero" (she's literally inspired by Captain America).

But it's the crumbs/bits and pieces that I really latched onto. Pharah's a confirmed lesbian; her short story with Baptiste implies she harbors a crush on Mercy (fucking thank you.). She's biracial Egyptian/First Nations. She has major mommy issues, having grown up both admiring and resenting Ana. She's the bridge between Old Overwatch, inspired by the idealized heroes who surrounded her childhood, and New Overwatch. She's one of the only inter-generational characters in the cast; someone whose experiences span the gap, which is why I seriously believe Pharah would make a great main character.

There isn't much to go off of, though; she's a very uncomplicated character (she's a soldier for a private military corporation, lol.). But that just means she's a blank slate character, so I've seen fanfic writers run wild and create some really interesting takes on her. My favorite interpretation of her's a dense, herbo gym-bro type (a lot of her liens are about work outs, exercising, and playing sports) who's easily excitable under her seemingly self-serious, armored visage. We see how she tends to gloat and hype herself up when she's on a streak too, so Pharah definitely has a competitive and boastful side under her more professional and militant performance.

Now Mercy? Mercy is a real complex character.

[mostlyghostlyy]

ty for feeding us I love my weird basement dweller boyfriend

Okayyyyy I guess we can share the basement dweller boyfriend. But I get him on weekends and holidays.

[iguessigotta]

Eddie gluskin with a pregnant darling maybe

you know what's funny about Eddie Gluskin being one of my faves? i am terrified of pregnancy just headcanons for now - this ended up being more an exploration of the inherent horror of this situation than anything shippy, whoops. also kind of an au where Waylon does not survive his encounter with Eddie 18+ just in case CW: injuries, noncon, hostage, pregnancy, suicide mention cannibalism(?) probably more i missed. (no r*** - it is alluded to tho) i mean it's Eddie. the man is a walking billboard for "dead dove do not eat" ok lmao

being Eddie’s darling wife was a living nightmare

you’d been one of the few employees allowed near Eddie, and he’d developed a….thing…for you. well, not you, really, more the idea of you

and when the Mount Massive asylum fell into chaos, you were one of the unlucky people trapped inside

when Eddie found you he was quick to make his image of you your new reality

whether you wanted it or not

you’d initially fought him at every turn. unfortunately, Eddie had a temper, and was prone to snapping with no warning

you’d learned that lesson the hard way - your forearm was still in a makeshift splint, a dull ache where he’d fractured the bone in a fit of anger. or had he broken it? you weren’t sure. all you knew is it hurt like hell and made it nearly impossible for you to fight back

after that incident, you thought keeping your head down and quietly obeying him was the smart choice. that you’d be safe enough to ride out this mess until someone arrived to help

you had to believe that someone was coming. you told yourself you’d be rescued within the week, that there was no way a facility as large as Mount Massive could go down in flames like this without someone noticing

days turned into weeks, weeks into months (how many had it been? 3? 4?)

every night you sat, ankles bound to your chair at the end of some wobbly, bloodstained table, Eddie at the opposite end, a makeshift dinner spread between the two of you

occasionally there would be some sort of meat among the sawdust-flavored rations - Eddie was always vague when you asked him what kind of meat it was 

you resisted for the first month, but your resolve broke a week into the second, the hunger pains driving you to tears and forcing you to make a choice

so you ate. and you tried not to think about where he got it from

it was like the two of you playing some sick game of house

Eddie kept a close eye on you when he was around, restraining you when he wasn’t

you’d be tied to a chair. strapped down on your back atop some bloodstained hospital mattress. arms bound behind you, tied to a support beam and forced to sit on the cold concrete floor

all of it was miserable

Eddie said it was for your safety, but you knew better. especially after he’d found you with a knife you’d managed to get your hands on. he’d stopped you from trying to slash your own throat, spewing some bullshit about his darling preferring death over a blissful life as the proud mother of his many, many children 

 he wasn’t going to let you leave him in any way

some part of you thought about pleading with Eddie to “think of the baby” and untie you - but that only reminded you that you were, in fact, pregnant

and it was starting to show

whatever mental energy you could spare went to trying (and failing) to block that fact out of your mind

you felt like you were trapped in two horror stories simultaneously - one, enduring whatever Eddie decided to do to you on a daily basis, and two, the unwanted life growing inside you against your will

not to mention the mental anguish of what to do after the…birth. would you even survive that? would you want to? 

should  you try to raise and protect it? or would it be more merciful if you…

it was a horrifying decision to make, one that you flinched away from whenever you found yourself thinking about it

every day you wondered if it would be better to piss him off, have him kill you in a fit of rage. it wouldn't be hard to do, but for some reason the knowledge that you were pregnant stopped you

well, you told yourself, at least you got to skip Eddie’s “operation table”. all the men who came before you weren’t so lucky, if the video on that camera you found was to be believed….

[oifaaa]

lmao sorry to keep this going but. tim absolutely had it the easiest of the bat kids, not even a discussion. he had a cushy, priviledged life with parents that actually cared about him, and fanon going uwu poor sad little rich boy so so so neglected and abused... GIRL?!?! cass got the shit kicked out of her till she became the best fighter in the world, and she was homeless for nearly a decade after that and yet often feels like shes the one comforting tim ("""little brother uwu""")

I get you I think it is just frustrating when people try so hard to give Tim the back story Cass already has and then processeds to either not include cass completely or just make her a bland cardboard cutout of a character that's only job in any story is to support which ever male white lead is currently crying

[olivegardenhunter]

The sannin as normal childhood friends who have sleepovers and play games in the forest and bond over liking "gross" animals

anon thank you SO much for this mental image. you have made my very miserable assignment-filled day. I have many thoughts about the sannin and baby sannin being inseparable best friends who were just normal kids make up about 90% of them. here's some hc I have about that (sorry for the massively long post, I'm a yapper at heart)

yes absolutely. I like to think of the sannin as misfits who never fit in anywhere else except with each other. there's so many different reasons for this. we know they became genin at age 6. if this makes them the exception, rather than it being the normal practice for a village in tumultuous times, then this must have meant each of them were prodigies in their own rights in the academy (yes, even Jiraiya I'd say, though I'd suspect his was more a case of recognised potential rather than showing any obvious prodigal talent from the get-go). this is further reinforced by the fact the third hokage became their sensei. I doubt the hokage would've taken up any random group of genin as his students. if this is the case, can you imagine how difficult it must've been for them to make friends with others, their age or otherwise? not only would it be hard to relate to their other peers cause of the age and probably ability gap, but I'd imagine people would've found them downright intimidating! all this, along with all their individual personality which, if their 6 year old selves were anything like their 50 year old selves, would've meant the little baby sannin would not have been anyone's first choice of friends.

so I'd imagine each of them being a bit of loners in the academy. then they get put in a team together. recognise they each stick out like a sore thumb from everyone else, but have all of the above common ground. their personalities are difficult for each to get used to initially, but once they do, these three super super super quickly become absolutely inseperable. to call them family would've been a serious underestimate of their relationship imo.

anyway this is all a long winded way of saying YES they're absolutely those regular childhood best friends who have sleepovers and hang out and play games. I imagine that tsunade grew up with a massive family in a massive loving home. direct contrast to orochimaru who's an orphan and, I imagine jiraiya is an orphan too (hence no canon last name). therefore, the senju compound is typically the designated sleepover venue.

the senju compound has mito, and nawaki, and depending on what your hcs are, would have tsunades parents, and I'd think they'd still effectively live like royalties even if the first and second are dead. (hashirama and tobirama wouldn't be around anymore by the time the three became genin I think, because (and someone correct me if I'm wrong) hiruzen would've already been hokage when he took on the three of them as his students, meaning tobirama would have already passed)

jiraiya and orochimaru just being at awe at the way tsunade lives and just how lively her house is and tsunade is just happy to have kids her age at home with her that just gets her cause her parents always nag her about training and chores, mito still treats her like a baby even though she's already a Shinobi that can take care of herself damn it!, and nawaki is so young he's so boring and sometimes gets annoying. so she always convinces her fellow teammates to come over to her house to practice and train, to babysit nawaki with her, to be the test dummy for try out this new jutsu or technique she's learning, and anything else that she insists she cannot do alone and needs them to be there with her

until suddenly it's already dark and oh her teammates can't possibly walk home all alone at this hour and besides my mum's making dinner and it's your favourite jiraiya and she'd scold me if I didn't offer some to you guys and orochimaru, mito found some sort of old scroll that uncle tobirama wrote about a new jutsu that she wants your thoughts on and besides, we have to meet sensei soooo early tomorrow for our mission and the training ground is closer from my house anyway, and you guys are just trying to get out of the bet we made and that's cheating y'know! and and and suddenly the senju compound just so happen to always have a few sets extra clothes and pyjamas that just so happened to be orochimaru and jiraiya's size and hey oro, raiya, look! it's got toads and snakes! and it matches mine! and the adults always just so happen to have two extra plates set at the table during meals, and the house just so happens to always be stocked up with both her teammate's favourite snacks, and orochimaru and jiraiya can suddenly enter the senju compound at any time of the day, with or without tsunade, and are greeted joyfully by the household's residents who had started nagging at them about training and chores and picking up after themselves, and mito is treating them like babies even though they're fully trained shinobis! and nawaki is being sooo annoying today and damn it, why isn't tsunade home yet? we agreed to train at 3!

(the three of them never quite notice that jiraiya or orochimaru's unannounced visits to the senju compound never trigger any of the seals that are activated by the presence of non-senju, non-family chakra in the compound. they never quite notice that the anbu guards at the front never give jiraiya and orochimaru any of the trouble or scrutiny that any visitors or guests to the senju compound are always subjected to, and the guards merely let them in with a slight bow of their heads, the same way they would to tsunade, or mito, or her parents.)

the only other times the sleepover isn't at tsunade's place is when there's a thunderstorm and orochimaru insists he needs to spend the night at his apartment because he tells them that last time the storm was this bad, lightning had struck a branch that smashed through his apartment that, if he wasn't already there and was even a little slower, would have destroyed the very few things his parents had left him that he so carefully keeps in a chest and he cannot ever take the risk that that would ever happen again he lost his power and his food went bad in his fridge, and c'mon tsu, you know oro not-so-secretly has a fear of thunder! don't you remember what happened last time at that mission where we were camping? we can't possibly let him spend the night alone at his house!

(later on when they're older, they'll come to find that jiraiya's new jonin apartment will become the new designated sleepover venue as jiraiya begins bringing back questionable sake from his missions that they were definitely too young to be having that he could not have possibly obtained that legally, and mito started banning them from playing card games at the senju compound when she noticed her granddaughter's tendency to lose her entire pay packet in a single game was becoming a bit too familiar to her... like a certain husband of hers' gambling habits that she had tried so hard to make sure wouldn't get passed on to the grandchild who the man had unwittingly taught said card games to at the age of 4. jiraiya started to call his apartment the degenerates' club then, much to the other two's dismay. though they couldn't quite protest when he correctly pointed out they were absolutely behaving like degenerates, even if princess tsunade and the leaf's once-in-a-generation prodigy felt like they were above those sort of disreputable behaviour.)

jiraiya and orochimaru fight tooth and nail that the massive forest that makes up the backyard of the compound, created by the shodaime himself of course, is the only reason they choose to hang out with tsunade at the senju compound, because princess tsunade (dammit oro stop calling me that!), the shodaime hokage seemed to have left so many fascinating things in this forest, there's so many secrets to discover. I don't think I've seen any of these species anywhere else in Konoha. I believe the secrets to some of his jutsu or techniques lie in this forest... oro you're such a nerd. and besides, Princess, the snakes here really seem to like oro for some reason and I think the toads are about to make me their king, I'm sure of it! and also, me and oro are the only people who don't find the fact you use the slime from those slugs in your potions or whatever absolutely disgusting, so we're the only friends you have to play in this gigantic forest with in the first place (it's not potions, it's a new medicinal gel I'm creating! and can you two just shut up? hide and seek is supposed to be a SILENT game and right now, you both really suck at it! I can literally locate you without even moving!) ...hey tsu, is mito-sama going to make those cookies she made last time again? she told me yesterday she would cause hiruzen-sensei told her we did a good job on our last mission.

the three of them knew everyone in Konoha had started calling them the 'Hokage's brats' behind their backs. but none of them realised that, particularly among the elders, this didn't seem to just be in reference to their sensei... there were other, more hushed whispers going around that if they had tried to listen to, would've sounded something like the adopted senjus... or lord first and second's legacies...

(these rumours may or may not have started when people started noticing tsunade's parents went from talking about their two children they adored, to their three rascals plus sweet little nawaki. or when mito kept comparing jiraiya's antics and personality to hashirama or orochimaru's brooding nature and hunger for knowledge was like tobirama's, or how tsunade's own hot temper and tenacity but also mischief was like her own's and the many Uzumakis that came before her, and that all three of them together balanced each other the way she, hashirama, and tobirama had. or when hiruzen constantly raves about his students and how much he sees his senseis in each of them and how the will of fire burns so brightly in them that he knew lord first and second would be extremely proud to see. in the end, though tsunade may have been the only one who shared a name with the senju founders, everybody couldn't help but see hashirama and tobirama and everything they had been and everything they had stood for in all three of the legendary sannin.)

[championdaigo]

Could you please draw Steven dressing up one of his pokemon??

I hope this wasn't meant to be "dressing up AS one of his pokemon" because I really wanted to draw little lady cradily in a pretty bonnet <3

thanks for the request!

[skeletalheartattack]

...am I just losing my mind or did yer icon become evil? I don't remember that BeAst behind Boe

yuuuump always been behind me

[triglycercule]

I need to ask the mtt expert, do you think any of the murder trio would be religious?

ooooof this is a hard question to answer because personally i dont practice any religions specifically so i cant exactly offer the best answer to this DXXXX but i'll TRY. take everything i say with the fattest grain of salt. imagine the grain of salt is a salt lamp because i genuinely dont know that much about religion and belief

so i guess the first thing to consider is sans undertale since he's the one that all the mtt originate from. i dont think sans canonically is religious like at all. so if i wanted to take the easy route i COULD just says sans doesn't worship anything so its unlikely that any of the mtt would. but i wont because i have honor. i doubt that any of our surfaceworld religions wouldve made it into the underground since theyve been seperated from humanity for a long ass time. and i think undertale has its own belief based on the delta rune anyways so im gonna stick to that since it seems more plausible than just saying that dust is a hardcore buddist or something

for horror my answer like hell no. he mightve prayed for the angel described in the delta rune to save horrortale or something but i think those are just like desperate times call for shitty tries for ANYTHING to work. he literally describes horrortale as "living in a place like this is like living through an eternal hell" and i think that being in a place like horrortale would kill anyone's hope for some sort of angel to save them. plus i think he's too aware of the issues going on in horrortale to try and put his faith into something that doesn't exist AND also he wouldn't use religion as a moral guide. considering that he literally said in the horrortale flash game that he's "given up on figuring out what's right and what's wrong" (my king with an absolutely terrible moral compass LET'S GOOOOOO) (i love the horrortale flash game. i even have the quote saved because its such a good and important line for horror)

as for dust i think there's more of a possibility of him being religious (undertale delta rune based religion not any of the real world ones). the delta rune says that an angel who has seen the surface will descend from above and bring us freedom OR a harbinger of destruction as the angel of death, waiting to free monsterkind from this mortal realm. mostly gerson's words i stole this from the wiki because i cant be bothered to play undertale more than once. when translating dust's canon fics SPECIFICALLY the one called "a true hero appears" the topic of dust "liberating" the monsters of the underground and "granting their wish" to be free (even though he himself doesn't believe in the underground ever being free especially while hes in the middle of his "mad time") comes up. i dont think dust views himself as an angel at ALL like described in the prophecy but he could view himself as a "savior" type of person. it could be a really coincidental coincidence or it could be dust deciding to take up the role of the angel except a really really shitty one out of a desperate try for something to help like i mentioned with horror earlier. if we're going this route then him taking up the role of the angel could provide a sense of comfort that religion does and also shape his moral compass (i keep bringing these 2 things up because idrk why people worship. so i researched why so i can better support my arguments!!) with all the salvation liberation bullshit. personally i dont think that dust would exactly believe in himself as THE delta rune angel but more of just some sort of rouge savior but the possibility of going in a more delta rune religious way IS there

killer is in a completely different situation than dust and horror here (i'm not like the rest of yall ahh. get back in the original fishbowl you goldfish fuck) because he's AWARE of what arguably could be considered god in an utmv context. and obviously that's US the creators (players in his eyes. smh dont you know i havent played undertale in forever. i needa go back and do a true pacifist run. i did neutral because im shit at dodging attacks. but call me a CREATOR you second dimensional FUCK. you are a lower concept than me call me by a name i DESERVE) because for some reason and i completely forgot why he's aware of the creators. i think this could go in maybe two different ways where since killer is very much so aware that there are millions of gods(/creators. every one of us that creates something for utmv is a god in their multiverse LMAOOO) out there that he could completely just avoid religion itself since the usual reasons of comfort and moral alignment are completely debunked and pointless once you know that the gods that you could believe in just view you as code or characters to play around with. no comfort or morals to align with there. OR it could go in another direction where since killer is aware of the creators that he actually does end up worshiping SOME sort of us-based religion??? (what would that be called. do you think that theres a religion for all the self aware utmv characters who believe in creators. creatism. creationism. idk but would ink be the leader of that??? prophet type ass guy for creatism. this would be a cool concept someone else steal this from me and make a cooler story with it.) anyways i got side tracked. doesn't killer already believe that he has to do things that the creators want or something??? which COULD provide the moral compass part of religion. its definitely not a good moral compass but whatever killer believes his god wants of him he'll do. and also it might provide some sort of nihilistic depressive comfort knowing that everything is out of his hands and predetermined by a higher being. he already has that whole "lowly servant who'll do whats ordered of him" type shit going on. not unlikely that that could apply to the creators (or chara possibly. that relationship would be interesting if killer viewed them as a god and worshipped them as such. HM.)

anyways those are my thoughts on if i think the murder time trio would be religious. this was actually way longer than i expected but maybe thats just because i ramble a lot and have a lot of side thoughts. PERSONALLY i dont think any of them would worship a god just because i dont practice any religion and it makes it easier for me to characterize them without the religious barrier there. but also i do think there are possiblities of the trio all believing in a god (with horror maybe hopelessly believing the in the delta rune, dust becoming a delta rune esque figure, and killer's entire schtick with knowing about creators) but everyone has their own fanon interpretations on these characters!!! so if you wanna make them believe in religion or something then go then ahead and do that. maybe those possible points i brought up where they could worship a god will inspire someone or something idk. triglycercule OUT (off to reread horrortale for the 20th time today)

[firenati0n]

Hi your sleeping in the same bed RWRB fic is the most in character that I’ve ever read and it was so lovely! You nailed that! Thanks for writing it :)

omg this is so kind of you to say!!! thank you so much, I really appreciate this!!!! thank you for reading 💛💛💛💛💛

the fic being referenced :)

[mxtxfanatic]

Hello

Idk if you have received this ask before but how come the mxtx fandom act weird about wwx being resurrected into the body of mxy going as far as calling it let down while I haven’t seen as many complain about sy in sqq body yet. Is it because wwx calls his current body weaker or something although i think it’s because people don’t find mxy!wwx as hot

I have seen angsty aus about how lwj will never have wwx in his original body and how that so sad and I just don’t think it’s that deep lmao 😭

I don’t think I’ve received an ask quite like this except for this bait ask someone sent me some years back, but I’ve seen more people be upset at the idea that Wei Wuxian “body-snatched” Mo Xuanyu (wrong) than I have about Mo Xuanyu’s body supposedly being inferior to Wei Wuxian’s og body. For those that I’ve seen upset at the idea that Mo Xuanyu’s body is somehow “inferior” or something, it is because they have erroneously internalized the idea that Mo Xuanyu’s body was a downgrade to make Wei Wuxian the more “feminine partner,” which is a projection of those readers’ issues that they need to deal with on their own without insisting it’s a thing mxtx actually wrote.

I’ve definitely seen people complain about Shen Yuan usurping Shen Jiu in Shen Qingqiu’s body (again, mostly along the same incorrect lines as the Wei Wuxian/Mo Xuanyu discourse I’ve seen), but I think the difference in how the “benefits” are talked about is that a lot of svsss readers see Shen Yuan’s transmigration into Shen Qingqiu as an “upgrade” (he gets to be hot and fit as Shen Qingqiu, whereas fandom typically imagines Shen Yuan’s og body as sickly and slovenly) while mdzs readers see Wei Wuxian’s resurrection into Mo Xuanyu as a “downgrade” (hot, all-feared, all-powerful yllz!Wei Wuxian that would’ve totally been a top had he been given the chance, we promise! becoming ‘Mo Xuanyu’ who is so disrespected and disregarded that even children feel comfortable bullying him).

Anyways, you’re right anon, it’s not that deep. People just have their own personal hangups on it.

[willowcrowned]

yeah like. if Roy and riza get married it’s half fake marriage to trap each other in misery self harm style and half being genuinely in love. insane of them

no exactly because they don't love each other really and they don't even hate each other really (except for the ways they do) they just. are each other. you don't love your liver or your heart or your lungs they're just a part of you. and they're just a part of each other. but they should never ever get married

[galaxywhump]

Could you write an AU where Berkeley was never caught and he recaptured wren for revenge?

[SV-240 masterlist]

contents: recapture, defiant whumpee, tied to a table, death threats, torture, knives, carved mark, non-graphic fingore/amputation.

~~~

"Rise and shine, sweetheart."

Wren flinches, blinking slowly but not seeing much, still groggy after… whatever happened between him being out and about and waking up here, wherever here is.

A firm slap to the face sobers him up. He wishes it hadn’t.

He’s tied up again - or rather tied down, lying on his back on something, probably a table, his wrists and ankles held in place by coarse rope. He’s shirtless, vulnerable, and the air is cold against his skin. Pulling at the restraints achieves nothing, and he starts panicking, struggling to breathe, because this was supposed to be over, he was free, and now he’s been kidnapped again by-

“Daniel taught me how to tie a good knot, so don’t bother. I’m sure he’d send his regards if he could.”

Daniel. Sweetheart. Whoever this is knows, must have known his tormentor, and when Wren turns his head to face the source of the familiar voice, his breath catches in his throat, his eyes go wide and his blood runs cold.

Berkeley.

He looks different - his hair has been shoddily cut short and dyed brown, he’s wearing colored contacts to hide the blue of his irises, and his freckles are concealed, but Wren still recognizes him immediately. Just like the last time he saw him there’s fury in his eyes, but no more hysteria or fear; only something dark and resigned.

“My disguise is no good, is it?” he snorts. “Is it my voice? Or is my face just burned into your mind? Or is it because I’m the only other person who knows what Daniel used to call you?”

This can’t be happening.

“You know you won’t get away with this,” Wren says, trying to mask the trembling in his voice.

“Is that really the best you can do?” Berkeley rolls his eyes. “Fuck, you’re pathetic.”

“This isn’t like that.” Wren shakes his head, but his heart stutters for a moment when Berkeley swears, as if that, not the kidnapping, not the restraints, not the unnerving expression, was proof that something was wrong. “People know I’m not dead. They’ll find me and finally lock your cowardly ass up.”

“They haven’t found me yet, though, have they? So I’d say we have some time for ourselves.” Berkeley shrugs and approaches slowly, step by step - and once he’s right by the table again, in a blink of an eye he wraps his hands around Wren’s throat and presses down, making him gasp.

“I could kill you.” He tightens his grip, and Wren’s hands twitch as the restraints stop him from instinctively reaching up to grab his attacker. “That would be it, Daniel would be avenged, yada yada. But I don’t give a shit about Daniel.” The corners of his lips rise slightly, a half-hearted remnant of his usual smirk, as he takes in Wren’s panic, wide eyes, frantic gasps. “I told him buying you was insane, but he convinced me. Then I told him he was too lenient with you, letting you wander around like you were free just because he wanted to play house. Of course I was right, and now he’s dead, and I’d just call it karma if you hadn’t ruined my life too. Everyone I worked with has been locked up. I’m being hunted.” His voice wavers a little bit. “And it’s all thanks to you, Rackham.”

His grip gets even tighter, and Wren’s eyes glaze over with tears. He’s still struggling, but he doesn’t control it; it’s pure instinct trying to save him from something he can’t be saved from.

Berkeley lets go, takes a step back and watches as Wren starts coughing, turning his head to the side to avoid choking. He’s still panting, his chest rising and falling rapidly, when he glares at Berkeley and asks, in as defiant a tone as he can muster:

“So what do you want from me?”

Berkeley laughs - his laughter is different, not genuine like it used to be, not hysterical like during the call, but completely dry; the laughter of someone completely disillusioned, with nothing to lose.

“I want to make you suffer. I want to see you cry and beg, because that’s all you’re good for, isn’t it? And Daniel’s not here to stop me from hurting his precious little sweetheart too much.” He lays his hands on the edge of the table, close to Wren’s side, and leans over him. “I don’t know how long I want to draw it out yet. I feel like no matter how much you’ll scream and cry and beg it will never be enough to make up for what you’ve done, but when I feel like the time is right… that’s when I’ll finally kill you.” He can’t help but smile at that, and a shiver of excitement runs up his spine.

No. Wren has to press his lips together to stay quiet, avoid protesting out loud, but his heartbeat is painful and deafening. If the air in the room was cold before, now it’s downright freezing. No, no, no, not again, I was safe, I survived, I can’t die now, I can’t die like this.

“Hey, don’t worry, Rackham,” Wren flinches, still staring at Berkeley in horror, when he pats his cheek, smiling. “Like I said, I won’t kill you until I’m through with you, and I haven’t even started. So, what should we do first…?” He runs his finger down Wren’s chest, making him shiver, and cocks his head to the side, thinking. “I guess I should warn you that Daniel is- was,” he lets out a dry chuckle, “better at this than I am, so there’s a chance I’ll kill you by accident, or something. I want to start with something safe, though, so we can have more fun later.”

Wren is more than familiar with the meaning of the look in Berkeley’s eyes, together with his smirk - the gleam of an idea he’s not going to like at all.

“There’s this word you don’t like, right?” Berkeley walks over to a counter lined with various tools he’d found in the hideout. “Daniel told me to stop using it after my first visit.”

He picks up a knife and lifts it up to let his helpless captive take a good look at it; he inspects it with narrowed eyes, humming to himself before deciding that it’s the right tool for the job. He takes a rag and some antiseptic as well and turns around, delighted to see terror in Wren’s eyes, obvious despite his attempts to hide it behind a glare.

“I think it’s fitting, though.” Berkeley returns to the table and sets the knife aside for the time being. “After what you’ve done.”

“You’ve always liked the sound of your own voice,” Wren says, eyeing the knife anxiously, knowing exactly what Berkeley’s talking about but not wanting to accept it.

“Maybe.” Berkeley smiles; it's easier to smile now, when he can escape from his bleak reality back into the thrill of being fully in control. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to hear your voice, and by that I mean your screams. Feel free to do that as much as you like. No one’s gonna hear you here.”

The good news is that Wren is fairly sure he won't give Berkeley the satisfaction of hearing him scream; Daniel - whom Wren hasn't thought about this much in weeks, but he has more pressing matters to worry about right now - had cut him so many times that it had become part of the routine, such mundane torture. He’d be terrified if Berkeley plunged the knife into his abdomen with full intention of finishing what Daniel had started, but apparently the plan is to keep him alive.

For now.

The bad news, of course, is that he’s been kidnapped, brought somewhere no one can hear him scream, and he’s going to be tortured all over again.

I’m on Earth this time. Everyone knows I’m alive. They’re going to save me.

He closes his eyes.

Before it’s too late.

He flinches when Berkeley wipes down his chest with the rag, which he must have dipped in the antiseptic. When he notices his captive’s frown, he shrugs.

“Just to be safe. I can’t exactly take you to a hospital if something goes wrong, can I?”

"Why not? I'm sure everyone would be happy to see both of us," Wren says, fixing his eyes on the ceiling. "You could still do a good deed and not be charged with murder on top of everything else."

“So you think this is going to be my first murder,” Berkeley snorts, and Wren’s eyes snap to him in shock.

“You-”

“Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t.” He shrugs, amused. “It’s just funny you assumed that. Anyway, Rackham,” he says as he grabs the knife and grins, “let’s get started.”

It doesn’t matter how much Wren had gone through with Daniel. It doesn’t matter that this shouldn’t affect him. He starts shivering, and he decides to blame it on the cold. He doesn’t want to close his eyes and show his torturer how scared he is, so he goes back to staring at the ceiling; the downside of that is that he can see Berkeley lowering the knife in his peripheral vision.

The sensation of the knife cutting into him is familiar, but so much time has passed that it still comes as a shock. It’s just a short line, the knife is dragged downwards and then raised, all but confirming Wren’s suspicions.

I.

It’s just a word. A stupid word. Soon to be carved into him, sure, but he is going to be found soon, and surely the cuts will be healable then, they will be gone without trace and that will be it. 

He still has to blink away tears when the knife returns. A line, a semicircle, then another, separate line.

D. I.

“So,” he says through gritted teeth, “now it’s your turn to leave your signature on me, huh?”

Berkeley rolls his eyes, but can’t hide a smile.

“Very funny, Rackham.”

“Thanks.”

O, cut out agonizingly slowly - and yet Wren doesn’t scream, barely even whimpers. It’s his tiny victory, not giving Berkeley the satisfaction he was hoping for. No matter what he does, it won’t be worse than what Daniel used to do. 

“How about I make a pun? I’m disappointed you’re not delivering.” He grits his teeth when the knife pierces his skin once more to carve the final letter, and he has to stifle a groan. “Alright, I got it: Your lack of appreciation for my jokes cuts me deep?”

Berkeley snorts at that and shakes his head. “Alright. I do appreciate them, for the record, cause I know what you’re hiding behind your idiotic humor.”

Wren frowns, but it’s not like he can argue with that. As the last line is added, he has to blink away new tears.

T.

Idiot.

Berkeley takes a step back to take a critical look at his work - even bloody letters on Wren’s chest, where he’ll have no choice but to see them, impossible to ignore unlike the brand on his back.

“Smile for the camera, idiot!” He snaps a few pictures, making sure to capture Wren’s expression, so desperately blank, but tense with pain and emotion, until he’s happy with the result. “Perfect. I can add these to all the damn photos Daniel had sent me. Maybe I’ll show you someday, take a trip down memory lane, hm?”

“I’ll pass,” Wren spits, glaring at Berkeley as he leans against the side of the table.

“You should still see this one, though,” he says, holding up his communicator - found in the hideout too, modified to be impossible to track down - with one of the photos displayed.

Just like when his mouth was stitched shut for the second time, it’s seeing the effects of the torture in a picture that finally hits. It’s not a picture of a survivor - it’s a picture of a hopeless, powerless captive at his captor’s mercy. 

It was supposed to be over. I was supposed to be free. I won, and it doesn’t mean shit.

“This is what your body will look like when they find it,” Berkeley says in the tone of casual small talk. “I mean, I’ll probably make a couple more modifications, but this” -he runs his finger around the carved letters, careful not to touch them- “is the first thing they’re going to see. A completely normal word for them. They’ll probably wonder why I’d choose something so mundane and… tame, but it doesn’t matter, does it? We know why, and that’s enough.”

Trying not to dwell on the promise of more modifications, Wren follows Berkeley with his eyes as he pushes himself upright and starts pacing to and fro: three steps, heel turn, three steps, lost in thought.

“You know, you disappointed me, Rackham,” he sighs.

“I’m so sorry,” Wren says, trying to sound unbothered, yet his heartbeat picks up the pace. It was supposed to be over. What else does he want?

“I wanted to hear you scream, remember? And you didn’t deliver at all.”

Wren swallows when Berkeley stops to pick up the knife and twirl it in his fingers.

“I should've expected that, honestly. It’s not your first time, and Daniel had cut you more times than you can count, hm?”

“It’s kinda what you signed up for when you sold me to a sadist.”

“Guess so,” Berkeley laughs, looking at Wren with narrowed eyes. “In that case I think I should try to come up with something Daniel never did to you, to really keep you on your toes.”

Then he smirks, and Wren knows he’s doomed.

His thoughts are racing when he follows Berkeley with his gaze as he circles the table, gently tapping the tip of the knife with his finger. Something he’s never experienced - or at least Berkeley thinks so, because he can’t know about everything Wren went through on SV-240. Even though the last thing he wants is to recall Daniel’s voice, Wren desperately tries to remember any torture methods Daniel had told him about, lamenting not having the means to try them out, but his mind draws a blank. He doesn’t have much time to try and predict what’s going to happen to him anyway; when Berkeley finally stops by Wren’s side, his movements are so fast that Wren barely has a chance to process what’s happening.

Berkeley takes his right hand.

Cut my hand?

Straightens out his fingers.

But it’s nothing new.

Grabs his pinky.

Wait-

Holds the knife right above the joint connecting the finger to the palm.

No, no, he can’t-

“You were complaining about the lack of puns.” Berkeley smiles down at Wren, who stares back at him with wide eyes. “So here’s one: keep your fingers crossed that the cut is clean.”

“No-”

It takes a second or two for Wren to get past the initial shock of having his pinky cut clean off, and when he does, the pain catches up to him, new and nauseating.

This time, much to his captor's delight, he does scream.

~~~

taglist: @faewhump @inky-whump @whole-and-apart-and-between @whatwasmyprevioususername @procrastinatingsab @funky-little-glitter-bomb @goneuntil @redstainedsocks @luminouswhump @lonesome--hunter @as-a-matter-of-whump @renkocchi @whump-only @muddy-swamp-bitch @girlwithacoolcat @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @sophierose002 @whump-headspace @to-whump-or-not-to-whump @kixngiggles @ohwhumpydays @whumpvp @wibbly-wobbly-whump @stab-the-son-of-a @his-unspoken-words @pumpkin-spice-whump @onlyhappywhenitpains @suspicious-whumping-egg @morning-star-whump @burtlederp @there-will-always-be-blood