#also I got so surprised that that underground space is HUGE

[empty-dream]

"You shall drown in the Grail of Heaven... like a bug dropped into a lake."

[popatochisssp]

IM IN LOVE WITH ALL THE NEW BOYSS!!!! I was wondering what hobbies they would have? Would any of them skate? What about make art? Play piano, perhaps?

Quick sidebar, it would probably be easier to ask who can’t skate than who can—at least regarding ice skating—because the majority of the skeletons lived/grew up in Snowdin and had plenty of time to practice their ‘don’t pratfall on the ice’ skills, so they’d (almost) all be at least passingly competent at ice skating, and then whatever learning curve is involved with slightly transferable skills to not-ice skating.

That said!

…You know, I realized I never did an accounting of all this, even with the first two waves of boys, so…

This is by no means a complete list of everything the boys might enjoy doing—despite the fact that this is huge and completely got away from me, oh my god seriously do not open the readmore on your dash���but!

Sans (Undertale):

He’s a goofy guy, so it’s probably no surprise that he’s into comedy. He’s a lover of puns and pranks and jokes in general, just…maybe not as casually as he makes it look. He does a little stand-up now and then, open mic nights mostly nowadays, but he’s played to larger audiences before at the MTT resort. He’s also got a pretty sizeable collection of comedic paraphernalia—rubber chickens, whoopie cushion, snapping gum, you name it—just on the off chance he might get to use it in a prime moment. He spends a lot of his free time reading joke books, watching other pros perform, and even, on occasion, don’t tell anyone, but… studying the science of humor, what people seem to find funny, how, and why. He doesn’t like to let on, because he thinks it makes him seems a little less cool and funny if you know he goes out of his way to research this stuff sometimes instead of just vibing on improv, but he genuinely finds the subject fascinating and likes to read about it. Alas, he’s a nerd…

And as such, he’s also very into physics. Quantum physics as food for thought in his downtime when he just wants to chew on some conceptually heavy stuff, but classical and practical physics make for some great experiments and demos, especially as party tricks or ‘hey, you wanna see something cool?’s for interested onlookers and he’s so all about that. Want to try an egg drop from the roof with popsicle sticks and straws? He’s got tape and a fresh carton right here. Maybe make a magnet out of a battery? Sure, there’s wire and nails around here somewhere… Or maybe you want to bet him he can’t hold up a water bottle with nothing but a string and three matches? C’mon, 10G—no, 20G. But really, he’ll take any excuse to do a cool demo of stuff he knows.

As for stuff that doesn’t demo quite as well… It was a little less apparent Underground, but there was a reason he had that telescope of his and it wasn’t just because he liked pranking people with paint on the eye-piece. He did love doing that, of course, but he also genuinely loves stars and space, learning about it and looking at it now that he actually has the opportunity to—he’s got his telescope to use on clear nights, a yearly pass for the local planetarium, and you better believe he’s subscribed to NASA’s newsletters for regular updates on the goings on out there. He tries to play it cool, but stars and black holes and nebulae are cooler, it’s hard not to get invested in everything to do with them…

Papyrus (Undertale):

Of course, he’s the master of puzzles, and not just your basic jigsaw! …Well, maybe sometimes a jigsaw, he’s not morally opposed to them but really, he needs a challenge for his intellect! He doesn’t mind a word puzzle here and there—as long as it’s not a crossword—but physical puzzles are his favorites, anything to employ his spatial reasoning and impressively fine motor skills. Rubik’s cubes are fun, linked wires, interlocking blocks, really anything in three dimensions that he can fiddle with and manipulate until it surrenders to his incredible greatness. He’s very proud of his solving ability and definitely brags about it, but he’s not just blowing hot air. He really does have a great knack for observing disparate pieces and fitting them together conceptually to see what they can be before ever starting to physically assemble them and the joy of bragging aside, he loves getting to exercise that particular mind-muscle and show his smarts.

In a similar vein, he’s also a big fan of model-making. Planes, trains, automobiles and the like, and no small amount of action figures, he likes to build them up piece by piece with his own two hands. It’s fine to populate his theoretical battle scenarios with gifts from brothers and Santas, or stuff he found at the Dump, but it’s definitely his preference to start with a kit and put it all together himself, watching it gradually take shape with his diligent effort. Maybe he’ll go off-book from time to time, a little bit, but customizing things to his own unique specifications just seems the thing to do when he’s already doing the rest of the making. All the gluing and cutting and painting and lacquering by hand… it’s the art of creation—and what nobler pursuit is there than that?

Well, there may be one other thing. As a truly renaissance man, he’s naturally well-rounded in his interests, intelligent and creative and yes, physically fit too! For him, there’s no better way to stay in shape than by playing sports, most any kind! Basketball, soccer, hockey, tennis, he’ll play any sport, just explain the rules and give him the ball—or don’t, depending on the objective and rules of the specific game in question as you’ve described it. The desirability of the sportsball does seem to vary quite a bit, so he’ll need to determine whether he wants to obtain or get rid of the ball, puck, shuttlecock, whatev—no, that’s the accurate term, it is not! Whatever you’re thinking! Stars, be mature… But! He likes games and being active and having friends, all of which are part and parcel of engaging in sports, so he’s really always up for a game.

Sky (Underswap Sans):

He likes to bake! He’s not a professional and in fact, he finds it to be quite challenging at times—there’s way more restrictions than cooking on how much to add of this, making sure to do that before the other thing but after this step, the oven has to be at exactly the right temperature… There’s a lot of steps and rules, but that’s kind of what he likes about it. He likes trying to see if he can make a thing, and then if he can, what tweaks he can make to flavors and textures without compromising the end result. He’s not always successful—he’s definitely ended up with sopping wet cakes, burnt pie crusts, overly salty muffins—but frankly, the experimenting to get it right is all part of the fun! He tends to make more tasty treats than he does failures and he’s happy to share those around with friends and family anytime. Baking may be an exacting mistress, but he loves to tango with her all the same!

Speaking of which…well, he may not know the tango specifically but he does love to dance! He’s got a lot of energy and a solid sense of rhythm, and that combo tends to result in at least a little shimmy of a two-step when there’s a good beat going on—and all bets are off entirely if there happens to be a dance floor and a favorite song playing. He likes dancing with a partner, or in a group, but he’ll dance all by himself if he’s feeling the mood, like nobody’s watching…or rather, like everyone’s watching and he wants to impress and lure out a little company to join him. He even has a tendency to put on music and dance in place a bit when he’s doing otherwise boring chores around the house, like dishes or vacuuming, and while he doesn’t mind doing his dancing solo then too, he’s always delighted to find someone who’s willing to dance along.

He wouldn’t turn down some company for a bit of outdoor exploration, either. A hiking trail maybe? Or some rock climbing? A nature trail or just a walk in the park wouldn’t go awry either if something a little less strenuous is required! He does like the exercise but it’s mostly the nature and all things green that he wants to see and be out in—trees and flowers and even grass. His house would probably be packed with greenery if he…hadn’t…killed every single plant he ever tried to keep…but! Since he does indeed have a deadly black thumb, he likes to visit the plants, in their natural habitat where he has no control over whether they live or die (so they’ll probably continue to live).

Paps (Underswap Papyrus):

It’s no secret that he’s a bookworm. He loves literature and always has—his brother will tell you he was reading before he was even talking, and as embarrassing as it is every time he brings it up, it’s not untrue. He reads voraciously, with a preference for fantasy, romance, and poetry, but he’ll read pretty much any book he can get his hands on. It’s probably no surprise that he’s been inspired to do a little writing of his own, over the years. He’s pretty private about his own work (especially the poetry, oh god, he’d dust on the spot if someone saw his poetry) but he still loves to talk about the written word and techniques used in its conveyance and form, and the struggles writers face in trying to communicate the ideas they have stuck in their heads. He’s great for reading recommendations if he knows the kind of things someone likes, but his go-to recs will always be his personal favorites.

Pride and Prejudice is one such favorite. He’s seen all the film adaptations and miniseries, and branched out from there, first into stuff inspired by similar works, then originals, and then…okay, he’s maybe a little bit addicted to period pieces in general now. Whenever a new one comes out, anything about regency or royals or the nobility in a dramatic setting, he pretty much has to watch it, more only a question of ‘when’ and not ‘if’ he’ll be checking it out. Naturally, he’s happiest when it’s coming out on a scheduled basis, because if an entire season drops all at once he’s going to sit there and binge it and it’s much harder to deny he has an addiction when he just pulled an all-nighter about it. He can’t help himself, he has to see if the socially mismatched couple can make it work and be wed in the end, love winning out over silly class divides…

When he’s not actively obsessed with either of those things, though, he dabbles a bit in calligraphy. He’d probably hesitate to call it a hobby, he does have a couple of those fancy pens and some nice paper and ink to use them with, and he’s decent at it, but definitely needs to practice more to be able to do the really fancy flourishes without blotting the ink or scratching the page. He can certainly do some simple, clean lettering if needed! Like…if you want a poster or a sign to look neat and professional, or…maybe you want the ‘To Do’ list on the fridge to have a fancy header or something? (His end-goal is to be able to do his own drop-caps and an elaborate cursive title for the cover of his book, someday, maybe, who knows…)

Jasper (Underfell Sans):

He likes working with his hands, making things and having something to show for his time and effort. (Knitting? No, that’s, that’s not a hobby, that was a necessity, just for special occasions now, he’s not…naw, c’mon…) He’s something of a car guy. He likes engines and wheels and pistons and how they all work together to make something that goes fast, and he likes understanding how all the pieces fit together and how to fix them if something breaks. It’s something he practiced Underground with busted old engines and bikes that fell down, and a career he pursued on the Surface, but even in his free time he likes tuning up his car, his bro’s car, restoring glory to a classic bike he got at a steal of a price and she’s gonna purr like a kitten when he’s done—he’s just…happy, with his hands buried in an engine and grease all over his face.

And speaking of grease on his face, he’s pretty passionate about food, too. Not so much the cooking of it, though he’s not too shabby in the kitchen when he puts the effort in, but more the eating of it and appreciating the flavors and textures. He’s got a lot of strong opinions on how done a steak oughta be (medium-rare), what belongs on pizza (anything but candy), and how to eat chips with your sandwich (in it, for that extra crunch of texture). ‘Gourmet’ sounds a little too snobby for his tastes, food doesn’t have to be expensive to be good and in fact, it usually isn’t—some of his best meals have been from holes in the wall—but he does like going out to such places to eat and socialize, maybe have a chat and give his compliments to the chef (and definitely not try to wheedle any recipes), that sorta thing.

But after all that, when he really wants to wind down, there’s nothing he likes better than a bit of gaming. He’s not much for multiplayer, he prefers doing his own thing at his own pace, but he likes having some kind of objective and making it happen. It gives a nice sense of accomplishment that he can get while sitting down—which is great. He tends mostly towards puzzle/adventure type games more than pure battle scenarios and beat-‘em-ups, he feels like there should be some strategy and skill involved, or the satisfaction of the win just doesn’t come through as strong. (Protip: do not watch this man defeat a Dark Souls boss if you are easily stressed out. He taunts between strikes and dodges at the very last second because he’s got the timing down to a science. Maybe try Pokemon or Zelda instead…)

Pyre (Underfell Papyrus):

His first great love is and likely always shall be the theater. He didn’t have too many opportunities Underground to go see live stage plays, but he’s long since broken the spine of the collected works of Shakespeare that got him started and memorized its contents, water-stained cover to water-stained cover. He can recite any of the Bard’s work by act and scene number, of which he is incredibly proud, but he’s at least passing familiar with a handful of other manuscripts or popular stage-to-film adaptations mass produced enough to have a chance of ending up in the Dump in decent condition. On the Surface, he definitely wants to see some things live and gets only a reasonable amount of excited about specific productions’ quirks and narrative choices. Joining in on local theater himself? Well…he’s very busy these days… (Maybe after retirement?)

Another passion of his pulled from the depths of the Dump is his guitar—a bass so sturdy and lucky that it made it all the way down without breaking a string. He thought it was cool as soon as he saw it and really wanted to have it and learn how to play. It’s been an uphill struggle since he’s entirely self-taught with regards to his equipment settings, guitar maintenance, and even reading music notes, but the few sparse instruction manuals he’s managed to find were helpful. His own stubborn determination to figure it out and be the kind of cool guy who knows how to play bass has taken him a long way, and he’s starting to make some deep, pleasant sounds that he’s very happy about… But he’s still nowhere near ready to play for anyone, he couldn’t possibly, not until he’s good at it!

And when he’s having a bad time at that, or anything else is ticking him off and there’s no better outlet to blow off steam, he knows he can always fall back on a good work-out. Even in a Kill or Be Killed sort of place, it’s not always a good idea to go picking fights and yelling and cussing and beating the stuffing out of other people—so whenever he feels like doing that, he’s in the habit of beating the stuffing out of a punching bag instead, or lifting weights, or doing one-handed push-ups, something strenuous. He may not be a machine made of meat that releases good-feeling chemicals after a successful exertion, like humans are, but he still feels great after getting to work out and clear his mind of everything but what his body’s doing so he likes to keep up a regular routine. You don’t want to see him after he’s missed a few work-outs, he gets very testy.

Mal (Swapfell Sans):

Pretty much from the moment he came into existence, he’s loved math. Call him a nerd all you like, but numbers are his happy place, where everything is straightforward and exactly what it’s supposed to be and if he doesn’t understand something, he’s probably only missing a variable and when he finds it, everything will make sense again. He has apps and workbooks around with equations for him to solve in his downtime like some kind of freak, but lacking those he’ll sometimes just make up his own math problems and try to solve them in his head—how long will it take for the water cooler to be empty if the tap is dripping at a regular interval of one drop every forty-seven seconds, should no one notice and intervene to repair it? The drum holds up to five gallons, but has already been emptied by approximately—

Okay, that’s enough math. He’s also into whittling, though he’s miles less confident about his ability. He’s not terrible, really, just very self-critical so he tends not to show off the things he makes, but he likes having something to occupy his hands while most of his attention is elsewhere, with the added bonus of having a knife in one of said hands should someone surprise him—self-defense is important, you know! In any case, he’s not as good of an artist as his brother, or even as good as he’d like to be, but it’s something to do and he can only improve with practice. Someday, with the proper equipment, he might even get into full-on woodworking, with chairs and tables and cabinetry and such that are far more straightforward to make than fiddly little figurines, but for now he just has a whittling knife and wood and too much stubbornness to quit at anything once he’s started.

As for something a little (debatably) higher-brow, he also has an interest in wine. He’s no sommelier, of course, but he’s run in fancy (royal) circles for long enough to have tried his fair share of fermented fruit juices. There are some he likes (dry reds), some he doesn’t (sweet whites), and plenty in between—but the topic makes for excellent conversation at lots of dinner parties and formal occasions, so he felt it helpful to learn a few things here and there so he knows (or can pass as knowing) what he’s talking about. On the Surface, he actually gets to take a wine tasting class and put a formal polish on his book-learning and first-hand experience, and makes a point of trying new brands that catch his attention. (He’ll never admit it aloud, but he’s far more swayed by a cool label or an interesting bottle shape than a high price tag—even cheap wine tastes just fine if you aerate it!)

Rus (Swapfell Papyrus):

He’s an artist, first and foremost. His most frequent medium is pen and paper—it’s what he started with and what he’s practiced the most—but it’s never really occurred to him to limit himself to only one thing so he’s tried out a lot of different techniques and utensils and can use most of them effectively. He’s not formally taught, seen some pictures and read some textbook entries of famous pieces and art movements, but everything he’s learned he learned by screwing around with it until he figured out how to make it look like he wanted and in the process, he’s built up a pretty strong base of skills. Mostly, he likes to draw (or sketch or paint) things he’s seen, recreating memories like a photo without a camera, but sometimes he goes on more abstract style experiments, trying to express a vibe or a feeling more than a moment. He finds it meditative, grounding more than anything else he’s tried to relax and it makes him happy to have a creative outlet.

As far as other ways to relax and have fun, something that’s really blossomed on the Surface for him is his interest in fidget toys. Not too many made it Underground for him to enjoy then, just a lonely broken palm-tangle and about a hundred Rubik’s cubes in various states of disrepair—sadly he got so good at solving the cubes that he doesn’t even consider them puzzles, just color-block-pattern simulators—but the Surface! There’s so many stim and fidget toys for him to get his hands on, and so many Ultimate Super Satisfying Compilation vids online to show him new ones. Poppers, spinners, chewelry, clickers…some hit better than others but he likes trying things out, playing with toys that are brightly colored, or feel cool, or make a nice sound. He keeps his favorites and sells or donates the rest, gotta make sure to leave room somewhere if he wants to get a new one.

He also makes a point of walking to the stores and donation centers and post offices at which he exchanges these items because—at the risk of making him sound like a dog—he loves going on walks! He was a shut-in for awhile, afraid of strangers outside, and to an extent he still is (social anxiety), but the Surface has different rules and for a lot of reasons, it feels safer for him to be out and about now, and he likes taking advantage of that. Fresh air and sun and slow, easy movement without having to look over his shoulder, free attention to spare to his surroundings and the chance to stop somewhere and check out a new place… He really likes it and tries to make time to go on a walk at least once every couple of days, destination entirely optional.

Slate (Horrortale Sans):

He’s a rock guy, and he’s not talking about the music genre—just rocks, or crystals, the kind you find in and on the ground. He likes the pun potential (ask any geologist, there’s a million) but also it’s just something fun and low-stakes to do, to collect and find and examine stones and crystals whenever he happens to come across them. A lot of his facts and knowledge base predate the head injury, too, so it’s something he tends to know a good amount about and can have a high-level conversation about at length, of which he’s very proud. Plus, having a bunch of rocks around doubles as both home décor and paperweights, so you gotta admire the versatility of it. He's always on the lookout for new stones to add to his collection, or to talk about and pebble—I mean, gift to his friends and family.

He’s an animal lover as well, which is…not much of a transition from the previous paragraph. He had a pet rock once, does that bridge the gap? Not really. Ah well. The point is, he likes critters, usually ones smaller than him but that’s not hard since he’s a pretty big guy. His past and the things he’s done don’t matter to animals, all they care about is whether he’s an immediate threat (he isn’t) and if he has food to give them (likely), and not having to worry about that is a heavy weight off his mind. He can be totally relaxed around animals so he likes spending time around them whenever he gets the chance—fur and fluff is a plus but he’s got nothing against scales and feathers, creatures come as you are and he’ll get you some water and a treat and maybe a scritch.

But if he must be around humans, or other sentient beings (he must, he’s not built for social isolation), then magic is the ace he keeps up his sleeve. Not the real stuff, of course… Though he’ll naturally be happy to show an interested onlooker a bullet or two, real magic is something any monster can do, even if they were literally born yesterday. He likes fake magic, sleight of hand tricks and misdirection—disappearing and reappearing coins, spoon bending, levitating cards—y’know, the cheap gimmicky shit. It’s fun to learn and easy to practice, works very well with a lot of skills he already had. It also has the additional plus of being disarming for anyone who might be a little…intimidated by him, his size and spooky appearance, especially if he can’t get a joke out quick enough to show he’s harmless, so he likes picking up new tricks when he can and showing them off when he’s got ‘em right.

Papy (Horrortale Papyrus):

He loves to cook! He’s gotten a lot better at it since the old days, trying to learn from Undyne’s lessons and it’s become a genuine passion for him to hone his skills in the kitchen and then (hopefully) show off to guests and friends and family who come over to share a meal. He considers it something of a puzzle in its own right—how to use these ingredients to get the most nutritional value with as little wasted as possible. He’s figured out a lot of ways to repurpose bits that usually get thrown out and in some cases, even make more tasty meals with the castoff pieces (his veggie-peel soup stock is to die for…not literally, but it’s very good)! His favorite part is naturally when people eat what he makes and shower him in compliments, but a close second is knowing that he’s fed his loved ones and they won’t ever leave his home hungry.

Since he does so much in the kitchen and, for the first time in a long time, he has an unfrozen yard for two or three quarters of a year and easy access to seeds, he’s also taken up gardening. Mostly, he grows his own vegetables and herbs but he has the space and the inclination so there’s plenty of colorful flowers in the mix too. He’s very attentive to his crops and flowerbeds and does everything his plants need to flourish and bloom. He delights in praise for his good work and the gratitude when he has a big enough harvest to share with friends and neighbors, or maybe to donate to the local food bank if they’re willing to take it. His garden is his pride and joy and no dirt or weather or pests will stop him from maintaining it!

Now he does have one hobby that’s just for his own enjoyment, not even peripherally related to others, and it’s pure unadulterated guilty pleasure: he adores watching soap operas. The more theatrical and contrived, the better, he can’t help but get sucked into the cheesy drama of it all. He started with just one hospital show and kept watching to tut and shake his head over inaccuracies, and then there was another show on after it that had a wild opening hook, and then…and then… Alas, he found the telenovelas. His enjoyment of them is only somewhat hampered by his inability to understand Spanish, but you’d be surprised how much you can glean from context clues and some things transcend language—it’s too late for him now, he’s recording every episode that airs during the day to watch later, he must know if Gloria’s twin sister will run away with her amnesiac fiancé!

Ash (Undergloom Sans):

Music’s the big one for him. He’s very low-energy and when you’re both depressed and physically fragile, it’s not always possible to go out to where other people are, even when you want to—but music can come to you, no matter how bad you’re feeling, and for that it’s become a huge pillar in his life. His favorite genre is classical (can’t get more classic than The Classics), but he’ll listen to most things, though he’ll always want a physical copy of it to keep if he likes it. CDs, tapes, even vinyl records, digital file only just doesn’t cut it for him. He plays his own music too, rarely with sheet music and mostly just riffing whatever feels right at the time. His trusty trombone is more than just a vehicle for incidental music, it’s like a pal that’s always been there for him even if he didn’t have the energy for it sometimes, and he makes sure to keep it in prime condition.

On his better days—of which he’s been having a lot more since reaching the Surface—he very much loves to be around people and one of his favorite things to get to do with those people is play games, board games to be specific. Monopoly might get a little too violent for his tastes, but stuff like Scrabble, Sorry!, Jenga, all up his alley. It takes a mix of skill and luck to win, which keeps things interesting, and barring a snack break or a celebratory dance of some kind, can be enjoyed entirely sedentarily, which is excellent. He probably shouldn’t be allowed to play cards (he counts them), and his brother swears he weighs dice (he doesn’t), but everything else is fair game and he likes having something he can shine at while also getting to hang out with friends.

But when he’s at home, or he can’t find a group to hang with, he spends a good amount of time cloud-gazing. Not star-gazing, though the sky and the stars are beautiful of course, but his interest is in the atmosphere, on the weather. There weren’t too many weather conditions to be found Underground—snow and rain and hot, basically—and the descriptions he’d heard and read of the kind of stuff that happened on the Surface had always captured his imagination. Clouds, storm cells, fog? It was interesting, and he read about a lot of atmospheric conditions without ever really expecting to see any for himself… but he’s actually up here now. And here, he’s the type of guy who owns a barometer, watches live Doppler radar feeds with rapt interest, and can tell you if it’s going to rain without even checking the weather app, just by taking a look up. His interest in meteorology actually has some practical applications now, go figure.

Yrus (Undergloom Papyrus):

He’s a cook, and though that may not be his job title, he takes it almost as seriously as if it was. For him, it’s both a passion and a language, a way to reach out to people and connect when there aren’t words—or when there are, but they’re not enough. He thinks of every meal he makes as a gift for the person he’s making it for and as such, it’s not enough for it to just be good food—it should be personalized to suit the recipient’s tastes, bespoke to what they like! That said, he primarily cooks comfort foods, stuff loaded with butter and cheese and salt because that’s what his depressed and struggling loved ones seem to like the most. It’s not always to his tastes, but it’s a point of great pride for him to have dinners at his home feeling like the end of Thanksgiving, everyone full and content and at risk of dozing off on the sofa.

He takes such pride in his cooking that he makes most everything from scratch, and that’s how he got into canning. To get to be such a good cook and to have such a discerning palate, you start to get a bit dissatisfied with store-bought spreads, and you start thinking of how you could tweak it, just a bit, and come up with something a little better. And well, of course he has a sweet tooth and doesn’t he deserve to gift himself a treat from time to time? Which is not to say he doesn’t share his jams and jellies and preserves when he gets to making them—which is anytime there’s a good sale on fruit—but at the risk of making him sound arrogant, he’s absolutely spoiled himself for even the big brands at the store. Sure, he could buy it, as-is, or he could make it and enhance the flavor with a bit of mint or cinnamon or whatever it’s begging for, exactly to his liking. …He does go through quite a lot of jars, though.

So it’s a good thing that he knows all the best home goods stores in the area to buy mason jars, and loyalty perks at every one that offers them because he’s such a frequent customer. He’s very particular about the way his home is decorated and spends a lot of time and effort into cultivating just the right homey, comfortable, clean vibe for the space, so of course he’s always thinking of ways to use his décor to do just that. He doesn’t like a static environment so he frequently moves things around, takes away old things, and adds new ones—scented candles, decorative bowls, accent pieces, really anything that catches his eye-socket. He’s a natural-born homemaker, really, it's a shame he doesn’t have a spouse to appreciate all his talents (yet~).

Brick (Horrorfell Sans):

Okay well now knitting is a hobby of his, now that he’s too big and scary to give a shit what anyone thinks about his yarn-crafting. It’s a skill from before the head injury (and the Everything Else) so it’s not like having to pick up a new skill and something you can be competent at is always nice. He finds it pretty relaxing too, if he’s honest with himself, and grounding—between the repetitive motions and the tangible product of his effort and time having passed, it’s a good go-to for him when he’s stressed and needs to calm down, or when he’s disoriented and has to reorient onto something real. It’s a pretty nice side-hustle too, selling what he makes online, but even if it wasn’t for someone, he’d still knit for himself.

…But it’s maybe not so much of a side-hustle because he doesn’t really have a main-hustle to be doing his knitting on the side of. He mostly hangs around the house as an unemployed self-employed bum. And if you’re bored, in the house, it’s probably only a matter of time before you notice something that needs attention, something broken or askew or in need of a fresh coat of something, and that’s what happened to him, and how he started getting into a lot of DIY home repair. He’s got a background in a lot of technical and mechanical stuff, the confidence to poke around in unfamiliar things, and he certainly has the time, so he’s become something of an all-purpose handyman, regularly sweeping the place to see if there’s something he can fix or tune up. Leaky faucet in the kitchen? Engine maintenance on his bro’s car? Heating ducts making a weird noise? No problem, he’ll check it out, probably an easy enough fix.

He doesn’t stay cooped up in the house all the time though. …Most of it, maybe, but he likes to sit out on the porch or hang in the yard sometimes and get a front row seat to all the wildlife lurking around. He keeps a bird-feeder topped up so the birds always come by, and he’s maybe not so diligent about making sure the bird-feeder doesn’t also become a squirrel-feeder, so there’s a few of them around, too. He has a bad habit of leaving food out for neighborhood strays—cats—and every now and again he’ll catch one and get it fixed, but the food’s also lured in a few other critters it wasn’t meant for. He shoos away the raccoons and possums and (on a couple occasions) foxes that end up on his doorstep, but he likes seeing them so he probably won’t ever really stop. There’s a local murder of crows who bring him offerings of bottle caps and buttons and other junk, and he’s half-convinced they worship him as a god but that’s definitely not going to his head or anything, don’t worry.

King (Horrorfell Papyrus):

He likes to meditate. That’s perhaps an understatement, he needs to meditate—even after abdicating his throne and resuming a civilian life, on the Surface with food and safety and funds aplenty, he has a lot of stress and on any given day, he’s wound tight as a spring. Old habits die hard, and old guilt and pain and fear die harder, and he has a tough time relaxing naturally. Having a set time and routine to sit and breathe and clear his mind, deliberately, is crucial for him. He’s got a room set aside just for it with only related paraphernalia—meditation music, incense holder, a zen garden—inside, a space empty of distractions where he can just relax and let everything else go. It’s either that or be more open and vulnerable in therapy and the latter’s not happening any time soon, so his meditation room is the only thing standing between him and a mental breakdown.

That’s a humorous exaggeration, of course. He also has his bonsai trees, which serve a similar function. He got his first around the same time he took up meditation, thinking it might just be a nice plant to set the ambiance, but as he started caring for it and cultivating it, it grew (pun not intended, how dare you?) into its own thing. He’s got lots of bonsais now and takes great deliberate care in their soil, their water, and meticulous pruning to keep them all growing healthy and strong and in exactly the way they should. There might be something to be said there about power and control and healthy, positive outlets to explore those needs, but for him they’re just his trees—his responsibility, his to keep alive, his to keep in line… And it’s nice to have plants in the house, they really add something to a space, don’t you think?

Something else he’s into that’s slightly more social is chess. He learned a lot about tactics and strategy during and in the lead-up to his reign, both from books and hard experience, and chess is a strategist’s game—all about studying the field of play and your opponent and thinking ahead to achieve your desired outcome. He started by playing against his brother, learning the game and gaining confidence, and then later against Toriel while he conspired to overthrow Undyne, which taught him more about thinking like a warrior monarch and how to strategize against one. Ever since, chess has been his preferred way to get to know someone and he finds the insight into a person’s thoughts (through their choices and idle conversation during the game) to be an invaluable asset. …It’s also somewhat fun, enriching he supposes, or else he probably wouldn’t keep so many chess sets in the house, or regularly go to the park to seek opponents at the public boards. But what business is that of yours?

Merc (Horrorswap Sans):

His physical…situation…is complicated. Until he gets his DT under control, he starts literally melting down whenever his emotions are too high which means that most of the things he would’ve done before for fun and exercise are out. His solution to that is yoga, a low-stress, low-impact way to stretch and move and keep his body functional, without the risk of upsetting himself and others by turning into a puddle! Going through the forms helps him focus his mind and ground him in his body at the same time, which he loves, and it’s something he can do solo or in a group, which is also great depending on his mood and need. He attends a studio at least semi-regularly, whenever there’s a class going on, and he loves it as a way to meet new people and socialize in a low-key way. Even after his melting problem gets sorted, he keeps the yoga as a part of his life and routine—it works for him, even when a lot of other things didn’t!

Escapism has also always been there for him: the sci-fi flavored genre specifically. He’s been in pretty dire need for distractions to take his mind off his condition and his frustratingly slow-going research, and fiction was a great fit, depictions of far-future times when technology is advanced but people are still people and the problems of today are all solved and done with—just the problems of tomorrow left to solve and there’s always hope somewhere out there in the universe. Yeah…he can use a little bit of that. Back Underground, he’d seen a few popular sci-fi series that managed to fall down—Star Trek, Star Wars, and a few others—but he falls back into it hard on the Surface when he discovers that the full collections are available, usually remastered and listed out in chronological order, and so many other fans to talk to about it, wow! And oh, the merch, so much merch… He’s only a mortal man, how is he meant to resist a phone case designed to look like a communicator from The Original Series? Or a replica of Obi-Wan Kenobi’s lightsaber? Or… Okay maybe he’s just enough of a nerd for it verge on a financial problem but he’s having fun, let him have this.

It's not like he’s not bringing in a paycheck, with his little home bakery business. He’s gotten serious about his baking and really ramped up his technical skill, and good flavor and texture is surely a way to keep a customer base, but he wanted to draw in the new customers and for that, he had to get good at decorating. As an amateur, he didn’t care so much if his frosting was a little messy, or really try to do anything at all beyond maybe some food coloring and sprinkles here and there, but in the interest of trying to elevate his business to the next level, he started experimenting more with design techniques—and he discovered he loves it! It takes a lot of skill and precision to execute on top-notch cake décor and he likes the challenge of learning something new and perfecting it until he’s ready to offer it as a technique to his customers. He’s the king of drip cakes, master of mirror glazes, and has the cleanest foil and luster work you will ever see. He’ll tackle geode cakes next, just you wait!

Ell (Horrorswap Papyrus):

He used to hate spooky shit. Horror movies, ghost stories, creepy stuff meant to send a shiver up your spine and make your heart (if you have one) skip a couple beats—he couldn’t handle it and any hubris otherwise would leave him looking at pictures of kittens trying to forget about it so he could sleep. But then… Wouldn’t you know it, then he lived through a horror: a terrible creature from another world came to his sleepy little town and killed seemingly everybody they could find, and he survived but the world changed, and everyone went hungry, his best friend disappeared, his brother started melting and he almost died and then came back wrong… And now the fake spooky stuff doesn’t seem so bad. Actually it’s…kinda fun? Scary stories and creepypastas still freak him out, a little, but his tolerance for it has gone up considerably and now he seeks out the genre on purpose, to create and consume, because it feels a little good to get scared by something fake instead of all too real.

His new interest in horror turned him on to movies in general. Not that he didn’t like watching movies before, but being especially invested in a specific genre got him reading about analyses of themes and filming techniques, lighting and staging and all the behind-the-scenes choices made in casting and shooting, and he loves being able to point those things out. Watching a movie with him, any movie, will probably trigger a film-buff monologue about something—‘oh see that’s a long shot, they do that when they’re trying to…’, ‘that’s not cg by the way, it’s actually a matte painting and…’, ‘y’know that scene when he kicked the helmet, it turns out he…’ et cetera, et cetera. He’s not trying to be a bore or a know-it-all, he’s actually just really interested in the way all these things, choices or accidents, come together to make a movie and he can talk about it for ages…or complain about it, if it happens to be a crappy movie. He does so love to complain…

Throughout all of this, if his attention isn’t split by his laptop, he’s usually keeping his hands busy another way—with origami. He’s almost always got a lot of scrap paper lying around in reach and for lack of anything better to do, he’ll grab a piece and start folding it. He started screwing around with those notebook edges left over after you tear out a page, but those are messy and ran out of folds real quick, so eventually he looked up some deliberate things to make out of paper and even bought some origami paper specifically for practice and nicer looking results. He’s pretty good at hopping frogs and flapping cranes, and who can’t make a boat, but his go-to is definitely the little stars you make out of the long strips. He’s got a big jar of the stars and keeps making more to add to it, not for any reason, really, but…it’s fun to make ‘em and they look pretty so why not?

Pitch (Horrorswapfell Sans):

He’s a thrill-seeker. Not necessarily the death-defying stunt kind—though he cheated death once already and might be a bit cockier about his odds the next time around than he ought to be—but any thrill, even the cheap ones. He spent a lot of time Before hedging his bets and prioritizing just about everything but himself, and now he’s decided to spend the rest of his time doing the opposite, chasing excitements and novelties and things he was too cautious or restrained or just too spartan to go after. He seeks out new restaurants, trendy bars, relationships, activities, anything that catches his fancy at the moment. A lot of the things he tries out don’t stick, falling by the wayside after the luster of ‘exciting and new’ wears off—you really only need to try a PB&J burger the once, and if you’ve ridden one mechanical bull, you’ve ridden them all—but some things make an impression.

Boxing is one of the things that stuck for him. He always worked out to stay in good condition and it was a habit he kept up on the Surface, joining a local gym as soon as possible for access to the weights and the punching bag. Fisticuffs was a last resort for him when dealing with actual problems, but hitting things was a great way to blow off steam—and as repressed as he was, he had a lot of steam to blow off, so his form and footwork was always top-notch. He got noticed for it, invited to spar in the ring, and to keep a short story short, he loved it. It’s a challenge being blind in a fistfight, but in a very positive way for him, giving him a chance to use his reflexes and his soul-sense to take on his opponents and most of the time, win. It’s a visceral, almost primal pleasure for him to get to fight in a reasonably safe arena, with people who are also fighting for love of the sport and no aim to seriously injure or kill, like a dance but with someone who wants to knock you out and vice versa.

And speaking of dancing, he’s very fond of that as well for similar, yet less violent reasons. He doesn’t really dance solo, simply for joy of the music—his enjoyment is almost exclusively in the partnered activity, when he has someone to match steps and mirror movement with and combine his awareness of his body and theirs into a cohesive picture. He likes the give and take of it, the way that he can have a physical experience with someone, a conversation without a single word being spoken, all from movement and synchronicity with whoever’s signed his dance card. He knows a few formal dances already and hasn’t forgotten the steps so he’s well-prepared for a polite ballroom experience… but he’s also learned how to let his metaphorical hair down lately, and a bit of dirty dancing is hardly off the table, should his partner for the evening (or afternoon, morning, midnight) be so inclined.

Nemo (Horrorswapfell Papyrus):

What happened Underground sent him into probably the worst art-block of his life. Even picking up a pen got hard to do with anything more than the intent to jot down a note for himself and he spent entirely too long with utterly dry wells of inspiration, not creating anything at all. In a desperate attempt to rekindle something creative, he ended up searching ‘art ideas’ online and discovered the vast world of craft projects. It was easier for him to actually make something when he had step-by-step guides and didn’t have to draw on his own (lacking) inspiration, and he quickly gained a liking for what he could make out of things he already had lying around the house and art supplies that were collecting dust—coffee-filter peonies, paper-straw wreaths, tin-can organizers, et cetera. He likes upcycling and getting to find use in things that might otherwise be discarded, and he really enjoys getting to put his own personal touch into crafts inspired from the internet.

He's proud enough of his works, in fact, that he wanted to show them off and—lacking real-life friends—he started posting photos of his crafts online. The response was positive but eventually, he started getting dissatisfied with the quality of the pictures he was taking, fuzzing details or altering colors, and he began looking into ways to improve the shots he was taking, lighting techniques, camera settings, angles and framing… By the time he invested in his own high-quality camera (and read the manual, front to back), he was seeing art everywhere, not just in the things he made but in the light through trees on a misty morning, in the waft of a curtain by an open window, in the people walking along the sidewalk out in front of the house. He has an eye-socket for it now and he’s always considering The Perfect Shot, how to capture the beautiful moments happening all the time with his photography. He’s good and getting better all the time, the more he practices his staging and editing.

He definitely wants to diversify his portfolio, though. Of course, he’s great at capturing domestic scenes, being a shut-in and all, but there’s more out there in the world, to see and photograph and be part of. It takes him awhile to get there but once he does, he’s very passionate about traveling. He spent such a long time stuck—first Underground, and then in his home on the Surface—and his scenery and his experiences were limited, but once he’s free there’s so much new and beautiful and exciting that he can access and he loves being able to pack up and go to it, right where it is. He wants to fill a passport and see unique vistas all over the globe, learn about cultures there, and make meaningful memories attached to every picture he takes.

Sunny (Gastertale Sans):

He likes stories, not the kind that come from a book, necessarily, but the stories people tell. The subject doesn’t matter to him much—folklore, local legends, big fish tales, ‘you’ll never believe what happened to me last week’s and more—it’s really the telling of it that he likes, how people describe what happened for an audience of their friends, family, or even strangers. He especially likes hearing the same story from different people to see how they tell it differently with their own perspectives or details that were unique to the version they heard. He’s always got a metaphorical ear open for a good yarn and a great memory for the stories people tell him, to the point that he can dispense them on cue whenever conversation’s slow, but he’s got plenty of his own experiences to make tales out of too, and the charisma and flair to make the telling entertaining.

This is a skill that comes majorly in handy for one of his other favorite hobbies, tabletop gaming. Whether he’s setting the scene for a D&D party he’s DMing for or keeping conversation going while he shuffles a deck for rummy, he loves having a table of people together to talk and play a game (or two, or three) with. It’s hard to get schedules to line up so he almost always has a few different game nights going on at any given time, in rotation depending on who can make what—and luckily, he’s a social butterfly so if someone cancels, getting substitutes to hang and make friends with over a game of something or other is never too difficult for him. He’ll go anywhere but his preference is hosting himself, he just loves having people over and showing them a good old fashioned time!

And speaking of old fashioned, his fashion is a little bit that as well. He’s a tad all over the place with it but nonetheless very interested in vintage and retro styles—the bold neon windbreakers of the 80s, the dated digital graphic tees of the 90s, the vinyl of the 00s, and even the holographics of the 10s. He tends to get a little confused about what was popular when and maybe that’s why he meshes it all together, but regardless, he loves his very eclectic wardrobe and adding to it. He makes a lot of trips to thrift stores and checks often on resale sites and gets very excited whenever he stumbles across a good find. Jackets are his favorite and he definitely has too many, but they spark joy and he’s probably not going to get rid of any or quit shopping around for more of the old school stuff anytime soon.

Aster (Gastertale Papyrus):

He likes scrapbooking! Maybe not too surprising, but as someone who mysteriously came into existence one day with no memory of his past, he doesn’t like the idea of losing memories—at least, not any more memories than he’s already apparently lost. He likes keeping records of things he does and that happen in his life as a tangible proof of his existence in and impact on the world. He stores things digitally as well but having the physical album feels weightier and more permanent, so he takes great care assembling and arranging everything in it. He keeps photos of outings with friends and coworkers, fliers from lectures he attends, even receipts from restaurants and movie ticket stubs. It’s all extremely well organized and annotated to the point that it almost reads like a scientific article, but he has fun with the cutting and pasting and aesthetic arrangement of it all—a neat and tidy accounting of (as much of) his life (as he can remember).

It's probably no coincidence that his scrapbook resembles a science journal, though, because he reads a lot of them. He also attends lectures and conferences when available and open to the public because, though he doesn’t have a career in any field of science, he’s still quite passionate about it! He loves learning about new advancements and discoveries, and when he comes across something he doesn’t know or only knows a bit about, he tends to do his own research into relevant readings on the topic until he’s better informed. He loathes misinformation and willful ignorance though, and as a result he’s ended up in a few small scale social media wars where he arrives on a post with thorough corrections, arguments, and sources cited and continues to present the accurate information until he’s respectfully acknowledged or blocked. It’s…usually the latter, but he doesn’t mind a good argument and ad hominem attacks slide right off him, so…as long as he’s having fun, what does it matter?

However…for all his love of truth and fact, he is also—regrettably—truly, madly, deeply compelled by the paranormal. If asked directly, he would say that of course he doesn’t believe in (non-monster) ghosts or aliens or the supernatural, there’s no evidence of such things! At least…nothing credible. He’s read the first and second-hand accounts, reviewed the blurry inconclusive photos, entertained hypotheticals of what could have really caused the sighting or scenario in question, accounting for variables and probing with his own questions to determine more information. He may occasionally be inclined to physically visit some ‘hot spots’ or sites of infamy, just to get a better understanding of the location and potential factors in what’s been claimed… But! Obviously, he’s a devil’s advocate in this only, as intriguing as some of these concepts are, that’s all they are—concepts. The fact that he spends so much time and thought on such things does not at all validate them and it simply means that he is a man of both integrity and science, the real kind!

Spectr (Transcendtale Sans):

He likes swimming! Er…well…maybe that’s not the right word for it. It’s not diving either, really, it’s… He likes going to bodies of water, walking in, and staying under for awhile, there, that’s a more accurate description of it. He’s waterproof and he doesn’t need to breathe, so ducking under the surface for a good few hours is not only possible, but a great way to get near-total peace and quiet for however long he wants it. He wasn’t much of a swimmer when he had an organic body, so it’s a bit of a novelty as well—seeing the way things look underwater, the way sounds change, the way animals swim around him in their natural habitat. He finds being in the water to be very relaxing and pleasant, almost meditative in nature, and whenever he’s feeling especially tense or in need of some space to think (or not think), he’ll head to the nearest body of water and go right in. It would be better if he actually took his clothes off before he did this, but he usually doesn’t and has weirded many clothes with lake or sea water.

He’s also into urban exploration. Not that he specifically calls it that, but he’s a wanderer and he likes to keep a low profile so sometimes, when he happens to be in the heart of a big city and there’s nowhere anonymous enough for him to blend in, he disappears into closed, abandoned, or condemned buildings. He likes the quiet of places like these and the reduced likelihood of running into anyone trying to interact with him because nobody else is supposed to be there. Obviously sometimes people are there anyway, but usually it’s people who mind their own business or actively avoid him, which he’s completely fine with. He does also enjoy having a look around when there’s time and he can, getting to see the remnants of the people who used the building before, what they left behind and imagining what it would be like if it were actively in use. A lot of the places he gets into have nice views of the city outside, too, and it’s pleasant to find a ledge or some rebar to sit on and enjoy it.

Jewelry making came out of his preferred hangout spots, as well. There’s a lot of junk lying around in abandoned or in-construction buildings—chain-link fences, washers, nuts and bolts—and when one is sitting around in an empty spot in the early morning, waiting for the city to wake up so he can slip through the masses undetected again, one gets to fiddling with nearby things in reach. He’s no master jeweler, his creations tend to be very simple, metal bent and twisted by hand in loops and curls, maybe a shape if he’s feeling ambitious, but he likes making them regardless. Sometimes he’ll keep an eye out for interesting stones and hold onto them to incorporate them into one of his pieces, or pick up a bit of nicer wire to work with if he’s going to be passing through a more rural area where it won’t be so easily available. He never keeps the rings and necklaces and bracelets he makes, though, just leaving them on tables and benches and railings for someone else to find later. It’s the making that’s the important part to him, he doesn’t need the thing.

PapAIrus (Transcendtale Papyrus):

He’s a proud and passionate DJ for partiers everywhere! He kind of fell into it, or at least into the idea of it when figuring out how to approach humanity and be a part of it, and he learned that it’s quite common for musical artists to have gimmicks that hide their real faces and identities. It seemed like it’d be easy to blend in, in a crowd like that, and when he found out about vocaloids and holographic performers he was all but sold on giving it a go. It didn’t take him long to learn how to mix songs and with a theoretically infinite track list to draw on, he’s a natural talent at playing the crowd and keeping the energy in a room high. He loves DJing for nightclubs and raves the most, but he’s starting to gain a bit of fame and notoriety for both his talent and his very advanced ‘avatar’ and might end up dropping some of his own music and playing to larger venues sooner than later.

In his spare time, of which he has a lot, he likes the challenge of hunting down lost media. He has full access to the internet as well as several archives he probably should not have access to, but it’s very hard to keep him out of anywhere he wants to be—luckily, he chooses to use his nigh unfathomable power for good, digging around here, there, and everywhere for things deleted, destroyed, or locked off from the public. It’s like a treasure hunt, following leads and connecting clues until he finds the impossible thing he’s looking for…or doesn’t. Sometimes things that are gone really are gone, but other times it’s just that no one else had the spare time and resources to try and excavate a mention of a grandmother’s VHS copy of an obscure, out of circulation film on a deleted forum post from ten years ago, track down the user, ask after the tape and offer to purchase it to convert to a digital format…and if that doesn’t pan out, the search begins anew! How exciting!

His do-gooding doesn’t end at tracking and restoring old tapes, though, and he likes to spare some time for bigger acts of justice now and again. He’s a part-time hacktivist—he takes note of ongoing crime and corruption in human society and when he can, he shines a light on it. Leaking emails, posting blacklisted videos, releasing incriminating financial records, he has little respect for the privacy of crooked CEOs and corrupt politicians and feels it’s only right that their customers and constituents know these things about the people they’re supporting. His intervention tends to lead to a lot of resignations and restructuring and legal action being pursued, so he tries not to overstep too much with the business of humans, especially not for any old small-fry in the pond…but the big fish, the guys in the news with allegations that don’t stick because of money lack of evidence… Well, he doesn’t mind digging up that evidence, if the proper authorities really lack the time for it—you’re welcome!

Xanth (Ascendswap Sans):

He’s very into spiritualism and all things mystical. His brush with the cosmically unknowable really expanded his perception and sense of things around him and he’s freshly fascinated by the things in this world beyond mortal comprehension, things he’s only glimpsed and felt more than he clearly understood. He loves reading or hearing about other peoples’ spiritual experiences—near-deaths, out-of-body’s, energies sensed and presences felt and many more—being let into the perspective of others who have been through things not easily explained and maybe getting a chance to share his own oddities in the process. He collects a lot of paraphernalia from the people and places he goes for these things, chakra bracelets, dreamcatchers, crystal pyramids and the like. He freely admits some of his items have stronger energies than others and theorizes that belief and intention in the creation of the object has an effect, you see the aura of this one feels—you get the idea, he could talk about it for hours.

He's also a very big fan of riddles! He knew a few before but has really gotten into them since, diving down the rabbit hole of riddles and tricky word puzzles. He finds the construction of them incredibly interesting, how specific words are chosen and phrases are structured to talk around the answer, carefully ringing around it to imply only and make the listener deduce the truth around its absence—just like how black holes are discovered by observing the warping of space around it! He has lots of riddle books and knows the answers to most of the basic ones out there, and he’s always open to hearing new ones, as well as coming up with some of his own from time to time. He takes his riddling quite seriously and will never look up the answer or allow anyone to tell him before he guesses—he wants to reason it out for himself, even if it takes him days to do it. If you manage to stump him, expect a call later on with the solution and exuberant praise for the gift you gave him!

A far more pedestrian and down-to-earth hobby of his, however, is pottery. Riddling and talking about the cosmos is all well and good, but it’s difficult actually meeting people to do those with—they don’t really have meet-ups for those sorts of things. But! They do have pottery classes, all over the place, welcoming beginners who are generally also open to making friends there, and he decided to go where the people were. It’s probably not something he would’ve been as happy doing before…Everything, reining in the urge to be great at it first try and do clean, neat work to impress people… but he doesn’t really think that way anymore, so he likes it! It's messy and mistakes are easy to make, both on the wheel and in the kiln, but that’s life and he’s learning same as everyone else. He gets to socialize, he gets to make stuff out of clay, and he gets so very many pots and mugs and bowls to give his friends and loved ones—a win-win-win!

Piper (Ascendswap Papyrus):

He never used to put much effort into his wardrobe. He was anxious and introverted and never wanted to stand out too much, so he always aimed for under, rather than over-dressed. …But things changed. He’s more confident, he wants to stand out, he wants to look his best and dress himself in all the nice clothes he always thought he wasn’t cool enough to wear—so now, he does. He keeps his eye-socket on modern fashion trends, subscribing to magazines and tuning in to designer runways so he always knows what’s in and can coordinate his wardrobe accordingly. He's not necessarily a brand snob, he doesn’t subscribe to the idea that clothes (and accessories) need a label to look good, but at the same time, he won’t compromise on quality and sometimes that means paying for it. Still, he has a lot of fun keeping in style and taking more care in how he presents himself, and it turns into something of a confidence feedback loop—feeling good because he looks good because he feels good because…

With his newfound confidence, he’s also gotten into the habit of singing out loud. He hums tunes every now and again, surely everyone does, but now he sings, sometimes softly and sometimes belting out lyrics at full volume to whatever song floats through his head. What can he say? He’s started to like the sound of his own voice and it makes him feel good to hear how he sounds, and to feel how freely and beautifully the notes come out. Maybe it’s a little prideful but he doesn’t see the harm in making music and feeling good about it, so he sings when he’s occupied, when he’s idle, when he’s asked to—no special occasion necessary save for the joy of sound.

Of course, this also gives him something in common with some of his favorite creatures on the planet: birds. He likes animals and tends to be great with them—especially if he happens to use his ‘trick’—but he’s particularly fond of the feathered ones and the pretty sounds they make. He started learning how to mimic bird-calls (now that he’s not too self-conscious to feel stupid about it) and found he has a talent for it, getting all kinds of flighted friends to stop by and sing back when he chirps. He knows a lot of calls and can identify most local bird species by sound and sight, and it’s a favored party trick of his to push a little intent into his whistles and get wild birds to land on his finger like they were trained. He’s actually looking to break into falconry too, so he can keep and train a raptor someday, but there’s a lot of training and regulation involved in that sport and he’s not in any special kind of hurry. Plenty of birds to watch and sing to and play with in the meantime!

Carmine (Underfell Fruition Sans):

He’s been on his own for quite awhile. Granted, most of that time was unconscious in a semi-lucid dream-state, but that still left him pretty bereft of any meaningful company for a long damn time. He’s a social guy, he’s gotta make some connections with people at some point or it’s just gonna feed into his main character syndrome, so he starts getting involved in competitive team activities pretty much as soon as possible. At first it’s gaming—multiplayers, with mic enabled of course—when he’s still building his physical health back up, but once he’s clear for it he’s joining up with just about every team sport he can find. The Surface has plenty of options for him to choose from. Paintball? Definitely, get ready to meet your maker. Go-karting? Can’t believe it took so long to ask, let’s go. Axe-throwing? Oh hell yes, you know it! He’s competitive but a mostly good loser and hardly sore winner, so whatever the game he’s all in, just happy to be able to play.

When he’s solo and not actively burning energy, he…probably should be. He overproduces magic like a sonuvabitch, and if he’s not using it, that’s a problem—for him and everyone and everything around him. If he’s lacking something to do with his energy, and no other ways to expend it, the easiest thing to do is make a bunch of bullets. This, naturally, solves one problem while creating another and out of the abundance of bones lying around the place came the elegant solution of building with them. He uses his bone bullets like some (frat house) people use beer cans, stacking them together to make thrones chairs, tables, and towers. Sometimes he’ll jenga these structures, knock ‘em down to reuse the bullets for something else, but sometimes, if he's managed to stack up something particularly impressive, he’ll put in the extra effort to make them structurally sound and keep them as-is.

For all that he’s good at building things up, he takes just as much pleasure in taking them apart. He likes working with his hands, always has, opening something up and poking around inside to figure out what goes on in there. Unfortunately, and he’ll never admit as much out loud, he is…not very strong, physically—the big stuff, heavy duty machinery that takes a decent amount of elbow grease to get into is…a little bit beyond his ability, at least comfortably. By default, that leaves him with the little stuff to tinker with, clocks and watches, TVs and blenders, anything he can get his hands on and pop open without too much work. Clockwork mechanisms are his favorites to work with, the very tangible cause and effect of motion inside, but he’s no slouch with a soldering iron and more fiddly electronics are hardly any trouble. He likes fixing stuff that’s broken but it doesn’t have to be for him to want to disassemble something in working order, just for a quick look. Don’t worry, he knows what he’s doing, he’ll put it right back—possibly in better condition than when he found it!

Tank (Underfell Fruition Papyrus):

He has difficulty finding hobbies for himself, at first. Doing things he enjoys—much less expressing that he enjoyed them—was both forbidden and dangerous, so he’s in unexplored territory without explicit orders to do or not do something. Undyne gets him started with puzzles after noticing that he seemed to like solving them for her on patrols. A jigsaw seems as good as anything to start with, right? Well… yes, very much so, because he loves the medium instantly. One obvious solution (to assemble the pieces into a picture), no time constraint, and no way to do it incorrectly? It’s perfect! He graduates quickly from small, simple jigsaws to large, complex ones and loves being able to sit down with a few thousand pieces and slowly, steadily arrange them the way they’re supposed to be. He was given a massive, single-color monolith of a jigsaw once, as a joke…which completely didn’t land because it only took him a bit longer than usual and he loved it just as much. Go figure.

His brother gave him another hobby, upon remembering that he used to (as a toddler) like scribbling on paper, and gifted him a color-by-number book. It was a little juvenile, involved considerably less problem-solving than puzzles, but that’s really not a bad thing for him, giving him a task to do by rote that appeals to his creative side rather than the militaristic orders he got until that point. Eventually, as he gains independence and starts to feel more comfortable making choices of his own, he ditches the ‘by-number’ part but sticks with coloring, using watercolors and colored pencils to fill in pages of designs with whatever he wants. He finds it very relaxing and satisfying to do, and with encouragement even frames some of the pieces he’s proudest of. Friends and family may expect to receive them as gifts, especially if they’ve complimented one in particular—it’ll be theirs in short order without a second thought.

His most consuming hobby, however, is one he came to on his own: the care and keeping of fish. His first was a betta, a bright red fighting fish, drooping and still in a tiny little cup on a shelf—an impulse purchase he’d be hard-pressed to explain, especially with no animal experience whatsoever, much less specifically fish. But, he did it, and after that it was his responsibility to care for it, so he put in the research to determine its needs, the size of the tank, the pH balance of the water, the food and feeding schedule, environmental enrichment… It was a lot of work getting everything together but the reward in seeing the sad lifeless betta turn bright and active, thriving in the home he’d built for it, that was an addictive feeling. It wasn’t long until he was setting up more tanks, and buying lots more aquatic critters—tetras, cichlids, snails, guppies—to fill them with. He’s an extremely diligent and dedicated fish-dad and likes to sit and watch them swim the way some people watch TV.

Vi (Swapfell Fruition Sans):

He knows his way around a needle and thread. He learned to sew out of pride necessity, learning to mend ripped and worn garments rather than having to beg for new on his or his brother’s behalf. It started as the lesser of two evils for him, but eventually he grew to enjoy it—work, of course, to have to close holes and hem and take in this and that, but work that he was generally left alone to do and not bothered for other things. It’s still that, but now that he doesn’t have a panopticon of a mocking prick judging his every action, he’s branching out into a bit more personal flair. He tried felting, with…poor results…but embroidery and needlepoint is working out considerably better. He’s still not especially creative so he prefers to work off patterns rather than freehand anything, and most of the things he stitches aren’t exactly to his own personal style, so a lot of his work gets donated but some things end up on the wall, others as patches for bags and jackets… It’s something to do.

…Making booze is also something to do. He didn’t exactly see it coming, something he kind of fell into. Per his brother’s preference, they’ve made their home in a wooded, mountainous area, and per his own preference, it’s secluded, a ways away from the town proper. Grocery runs every time there’s no more alcohol in the house (because somebody had company over and left a thimble in the bottle without telling anyone) is irritating, especially if he’s just getting home late and nowhere nearby is even open. A lot of locals get around the problem by simply brewing, fermenting, or distilling their own, and after looking into the process, he decided it was more than doable. He’s not much of a beer-drinker and never bothered with that, but he makes some damn good fruit wines if he says so himself, and a moonshine that’ll knock you on your ass if you’re not careful. His little operation is technically illegal—his favorite kind of illegal—but it's all for private use and he keeps to himself when he’s in town so he’s flying pretty low beneath the radar.

He is out of town a lot, mostly for work purposes, and passing through unfamiliar towns on the regular exposed him to quite a lot of postcard kiosks. He would look at them, think about his semi-estranged brother back home and how weird it would be, with their relationship being what it is, to call or text just to say ‘hey’ and… Well, eventually he bought one, scribbled a curt (coded) message on it, and sent it home before he could think better of it. Neither of them ever said anything about it, but he found it later on his desk when he got home with a scrawled reply back to what he’d written, and it kind of just spiraled into a thing from there. Anytime he goes somewhere, he finds a place to pick up a postcard to mail back, and when he gets home he tucks it (and the inevitable addition onto it) away in a binder for safekeeping. He takes a lot of care in the choosing and preservation of these cards and has a sizeable, growing collection.

Hunter (Swapfell Fruition Papyrus):

He’s a runner. There’s almost nothing he likes more than getting outside and taking off, jogging full speed to nowhere in particular until he’s out of breath and covered in sweat. He was cooped up for a long time in between specific missions and keeping pace on a treadmill just can’t compare to the free feeling he gets when he’s completely off-leash and can just go, as fast and as far as he wants to. Sometimes he’ll spice up his runs with a bit of parkour, clearing obstacles or scaling trees to take the branches for awhile, but he’s happy as long as he gets to let loose—sky above him, earth below, and nothing to call him back but his own limitations when he’s totally exhausted or he decides to be done.

For similar reasons, he’s interested in foraging. He likes nature and the outdoors, prefers it to anything indoors bar none, and the longer he can spend out in it without having to make his way back to civilization, the better. So, he started learning about the plants he sees—what’s edible, what’s not, what’s poisonous versus medicinal and so on. A lot of the info about it is geared towards humans rather than bioengineered skeletons so there’s still a learning curve, and a lot of things he's taken it upon himself to test out. He was built with a high metabolism and some natural poison resistance so he’s too cocky to be stopped from doing it, really, no matter how many times he’s called a reckless idiot for touching and ingesting possibly harmful substances. He's made a lot of interesting discoveries with regards to the local flora and only hardly gotten sick about it, so he counts it as a win.

He keeps track of said discoveries in his journal, which he takes out with him whenever he leaves the house for a nature walk (or run). He likes having it handy to note down things he does throughout the day, places he goes, things he sees… He never really got into art, not the way he could’ve, if things had been different, but he can scratch out some decent sketches to fill in the margins of his journal—the path down to the stream he found, the deer that only shed one antler, that berry that definitely did not agree with his metaphorical stomach, do not try again… His memory isn’t bad, exactly, but his mind and feet are both prone to wandering so it’s nice to have a log of his activities to look over later and put together things he missed at the time, or be reminded of stuff he wants to revisit. Most of his journaling is done halfway up a tree, sprawled along a branch with half an eye-socket on the view from up high.

Kohl (Descendtale Sans):

He wasn’t especially interested in plants or flowers, at least not until one started altering him—and the rest of monsterkind—in mind and body. That’s when he got interested and started studying. First the echo flower, its strange properties nearest and dearest to him, but gradually branching out to golden flowers, forevergreens, water sausages, any magical plant he can get his hands on to examine. Non-magical plants are equally fascinating, especially in their potential effects on humans—he knows probably an unsettling amount of flowers and greenery that are toxic to humans, the symptoms caused by contact or ingestion and how long it takes them to appear. Thankfully, he’s not much for the care and keeping of plants as keeping things alive seems like an awful lot of work. Still, he finds them interesting and has lots of botany and anthology books lying around, with leaves and petals dried and pressed between their pages. Did you know that the echo flower’s bioluminescence remains for up to three years after the bloom’s been clipped? Fascinating stuff.

Less of a passion but still at least an idle hobby, he can play a bit of piano. He’s self-taught—plunking out keys on the piano in Waterfall while passing through to entertain himself (and a little bit to annoy Undyne)—but though he can’t read sheet music or play any full length songs, he can tickle out a short tune by sound once he’s heard it at least once. He’s got a good ear for notes, despite not having any actual ears. It may actually be some kind of perfect pitch thing going on in his head but he should not be informed of this ever because he will hang on the word ‘perfect’ and be utterly insufferable about it. Mostly, he just uses this to play a few random notes whenever he comes across a keyed instrument, or to abruptly switch to an impromptu recreation of iconic horror scores to catch people by surprise. The theme from Halloween or the tubular bells from The Exorcist are favorites, but he’s unpredictable enough to learn more if you turn your back on him too long.

What he probably spends the most time on, however, is quilting. Perhaps a bit surprising, with his…everything else about him, but he’s a skeleton who values his creature comforts quite a bit, many of which have been made considerably more difficult for him to enjoy due to the ways his body has changed. In this particular case, it’s his reduced physical sensation making it nearly impossible to feel warm. He’s never cold anymore, not really, but he’s never warm either and he takes that quite personally, almost offended by the uselessness of thin clothing and scraps that dare to call themselves blankets. If there are no blankets thick enough and heavy enough get him warm, he’ll just have to make them himself…and so that’s what he does. Any passingly usable cloth in his possession tends to end up part of a quilt, with little care for patterning or overall design—his only priority is thick and heavy and warm, and if he doesn’t feel like he’s in a panini press by the time he’s finished, then it’s back to the drawing board.

Bram (Descendtale Papyrus):

He maybe went a little bit nuts for awhile there after the human first left. Some might argue that he’s still a little bit nuts but he would agree he was pretty embarrassingly desperate in the first few years after. They were gone and they weren’t answering their phone and for everything they’d done, they had been his friend so…he was worried! But of course, monsters were trapped, with hope of leaving anytime soon soundly dashed, so he couldn’t just go look for them. He wanted to reach them, or just someone on the Surface who could relay a message. That’s how he started experimenting with radio, out of a misguided and impossible attempt to communicate out of the Underground with someone up there. He never reached anyone from down there, of course, but he found some comfort in trying—and eventually, enjoyment too! He likes fiddling with the equipment to tune into different frequencies, and the sound of empty static is soothing to him. It’s a lot more fun now that he’s aboveground and can actually hear other people, and he hopes to get his license to transmit himself soon!

Before the Surface, though, things were a little lonelier for him. Colder, darker. Too dark entirely—of course a dark environment was necessary to promote the growth of their staple crop and the artificial day-cycles were only making monsters waste more time sleeping than they already were, he understood the need for the dark…but surely, it didn’t have to be so complete? How was anyone to know that he was at home and available to host company if there were no warm, inviting lights in the window? Candles seemed the perfect solution, natural light from flickering fires that wasn’t too harsh, still a bit dim but plenty to see by! He started just collecting them so he would always have them on hand if needed, but eventually started making them himself with wax on the stove. Scent or color don’t matter much to him, but he really likes being able to customize the size and shape to his needs. And his needs…aren’t so much anymore, now that there’s regular sunlight, but candles are still great for when there isn’t, and when electric lights are little too intense. It never hurts to have more candles around, for emergencies!

He's also exploring a new hobby up on the surface, inspired by his and his brother’s new careers—bone collecting! Now, it’s not what you’re thinking, he’s not after human bones. Those are still very much in use by the deceased, and he's sure surviving loved ones would be very cross if tried to just take them! But his job was how he learned that humans and other organic, non-magical creatures all contain skeletons of their own and when they die everything but the bone rots away. He thinks it’s very cool and obviously humans are off the table to inspect more closely, but animals don’t mind. He takes note of any dead creatures he happens to find—mostly birds and squirrels—and after allowing the other local wildlife to have first pick at it, he collects the remains to take home. He isn’t overly fond of the smells and textures of rot and asked for his brother to help with the de-fleshing and degreasing with the first few things he brought back, but he's got a handle on it now and loves to artfully display his cleaned finds all around the house. Skulls are his favorite, but he has some lovely wishbones and plenty of vertebrae that he’s equally proud of showing off!

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Runaway - Chapter Thirteen.

Oh! We reached 30 notes yesterday and I’ve left you waiting on the update! I’m so sorry guys, but it’s here now :D I hope you enjoy it! As always, thanks for your engagement, I’m so thrilled that you all love it as much as you do. 

Previous chapters - Prologue  One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten  Eleven  Twelve

Taglist - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed

Words - 2,230

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

“Damn, I’m so glad your parking garage is underground!”

Hannah was simply glad he and their baby had arrived there in one piece, with the force of the storm that had rolled in. It had been expected, Manny even setting out earlier than planned in order to miss it, but been hit by it halfway to Hannah’s apartment, the rain absolutely torrential. If he hadn’t been turning his vehicle onto her street by the time it really began to pelt down, he would have pulled over and waited it out, it was so bad.  

“I gotta say it, HB. You’re looking sharp as hell, mamas,” he complimented, noting that it was the first time he’d seen her in such attire. She wore a pair of dark grey pants that flared slightly, a white bodysuit and a pair of fancy looking, silver heels.  

“Why thank you,” she began, her smile a little shy. “This is the first time I’ve had to get dressed up all business smart since giving birth. I’m just glad the bodysuit holds my mommy belly in!”  

Lifting Lola from her car seat as Hannah reached for her, he gave her another quick tour with his eyes, frowning. “What mommy belly? I swear, that’s the exact same figure as you had before you got pregnant.”

“See?” she gestured with a sweep of her hand before receiving the baby into her arms. “Power of the bodysuit! Believe me, once I take it off, it’ll flop right back out!”

Manny rolled his eyes. “Mommy’s crazy, ain’t she bubs?” Lola gurgled right on cue. “See? The kid agrees.”  

Hannah laughed softly through her nose, carrying her into the kitchen, Manny seating himself down at the breakfast bar. “So, you wanna wait it out with us for a while until it passes?”  

Turning to look through the huge lounge windows, seeing the way the trees across the other side of the street were swaying, he thought that was likely best. Just then, the whole apartment lit up, a huge clap of thunder booming, Lola’s eyes widening. She only laughed and wriggled, though.  

“Ahhh, just like daddy, aren’t you, tiny mamas,” he spoke, watching the curiosity his daughter viewed the storm with. “You love a good storm.”  

“Coffee?” Hannah asked.

“Please,” he spoke, reaching for Lola across the counter so she could free her hands. “So, why the fancy threads today, then? Business meeting?”

“Something like that,” she confirmed, sticking a pod into the coffee machine. “I had a round of interviews earlier, as I’m looking for two more bookkeepers to come and work for me. My client list is now beginning to extend beyond my capabilities to do everything myself, so they’ll be working from home for now until I manage to find a small office space to rent. I might wait on that, though. I mean, if covid taught us anything then it’s that if it isn’t imperative to have an onsite location for your staff, then you get to save a lot of money. I dunno. What do you think?”

He straightened a little, his mouth upturning, pleasantly surprised to be asked his opinion. “I think you’re right. Digital technology and communications mean that you can easily run things via Zoom meetings and all that, client meetings can be done elsewhere, too, take ‘em for lunch or something, that’s a nice touch. I dunno, guess you’d only need an actual office if your business grows to the kind of size where it’d be detrimental somehow to have your staff all scattered around.”  

“Yeah, yeah, that is a good idea. I like that. Thanks,” she smiled, handing him his coffee. “So, what’s new with you?”

Ahh, adult conversation. Easy back and forth. No screaming. He’d missed it.

Also, she’d asked about him. Carmen never bothered, only throwing wedding questions at him of late, it seemed. “Yeah, same old, really. Gramps wants me to head back home for a few days next week, got a new colt he’s having issues with he wants me to go get thrown around on. Apparently, my bones don’t break as easily.”

Hannah laughed, pouring herself a glass of wine. “Well, he is seventy-one. His days breaking in the crazy youngsters are likely behind him now.”

“Oh, but it’s alright for my ass to get up there and run the risk of snapped bones, huh?”  

“You’re a cowboy who turned outlaw. If that isn’t one of the toughest breeds of man you can get, I don’t know what is,” she complimented, sipping her wine, her heart melting when Lola yawned, her head thudding against her daddy’s chest, grasping the soft flannel of his dark blue and green shirt. “I think someone needs her milk and bedtime a little early.”

“I’ll sort her out. She had a bath earlier because she got covered in paint. We went to see Willow and Lily for a little play date and let them do hand and footprint paintings. The fucking mess they got into, shit! They weren’t dry by the time we left, but I’ll bring yours over when I have it. The kids had a blast, it was awesome. Lily got actual canvases, so they look all fancy and stuff,” he explained, Hannah beaming. He was truly taking to fatherhood like a duck to water. “You go put your feet up.”  

Doing just that, Hannah sighed softly, thinking to herself how lucky she was as she sat down on the couch, the dark green velvet moulding around her in a plush hug. Sipping her glass of claret, she felt content, until the feeling of nostalgia began to rise, taking another sip in an attempt to keep it abated.  

Every time she saw Manny, and more pertinently, how brilliant he was with their baby, she felt something inside her ache a little. The way they’d sparked, how easy it had been between them back when they’d first met still very much in existence, too. Chemistry never really died, though, she was beginning to learn. The reality of it hit her every time, though, the fact he was engaged, even though at present, she didn’t know how happily. The last time they’d had a conversation about it, he hadn’t sounded like he was particularly content in his relationship.

Once Lola was dressed for bed and fed, they put her down, Hannah playing the soothing ambient music that Manny had discovered worked a charm in settling her to sleep, creeping out of her room again and going to sit back down in the lounge.  

“Hungry?” she asked. “I’d call for a pizza, but I’m not having some poor delivery guy battle through that just to bring me dinner.”  

“I’m okay, Lily made me a sandwich the size of my damned head, but you go ahead.”

“Alright, I’ll go put out a plate of stuff I can pick at, and then if you want anything it’s there.” She went first to change, coming back out in a pair of simple, light grey sweats and a black vest top, heading to the fridge and rummaging around. She returned after a few minutes with a huge sharing plate, full of cold meats, olives, tomatoes, fresh bread, cheeses, carrot batons, mini cucumbers and various dips. She’d just got it down on the table when her entire apartment was plunged into darkness.  

“Damn, it’s been a while since we’ve had one so bad, the fucking power got knocked out,” Manny commented, rooting in his pocket for the petrol lighter he knew he had in there, flicking it to lit and moving the flame to light the wicks on one of Hannah’s gigantic coffee table candles. She looked through the basket she kept her wax melts and burner oils in, pulling out a lighter from there and going around the apartment, lighting all the other candles that lay dotted around.  

Just as she sat down, his cell began to ring, Manny answering it with a slight look of discomfort. “Hey darlin’, what’s up?” there was a pause, Hannah being able to hear the demanded question of ‘where in the hell are you?’ before a pile more shouted words followed. “I’m still at Hannah’s, I didn’t think it was a good idea to drive back in this weather, even less now the power has been knocked out. Ain’t even any streetlights on here in town, it’s rough out there.”

The presence of her wine glass in front of her face obscured her wincing at the tirade he could hear him receiving, Manny rolling his eyes as Carmen gave him hell. She felt for him, having to sit there and defend a perfectly reasonable decision given the weather circumstances, to a woman who was being the very antithesis of that.  

“It isn’t even that bad out there!” she overheard, Manny’s eyes widening.

“Carmen, it’s fucking biblical out there, baby!” he exclaimed, just as a huge bolt of lightning cracked the sky, the boom making Hannah jump. Immediately, he placed a reassuring hand to her ankle. He was being yelled at, yet he still noticed her little moment of unease.

On and on Carmen continued, cutting him off when he went to speak, Manny becoming exasperated with her overreaction to something that to anyone else, was perfectly reasonable.

“Why you gotta be there with her? Why don’t you want to come home to me?”

His jaw tightened. “Because there’s a horrific storm out there, Carmen, and it was bad enough driving in it once. Would you be going this crazy if I was at the clubhouse to wait it out, or with Angel and Lily? You’re being unreasonable, please see that. I’ll come home when I can. Bye.”

“Yikes.” Raising her eyebrows, she offered her wine glass forward, Manny taking it. She snorted softly with laughter when he drained it in one gulp.  

“You got more of that?”

She jerked her head in the direction of the kitchen. “Another two bottles.”

“Can I stick a straw in one?”  

She laughed further as he got up, leaving her glass on the table and returning with a bottle and a second glass, filling them both. “I ain’t much of a wine guy, but this stuff is pretty good, and shit, I need it. Mind if I crash on your couch? Even if this storm passes, I ain’t in the mood to go back to all of that.” He took a sip, his hunched shoulders finally sagging a little, the tension beginning to dissipate. “She’s a fucking embarrassment sometimes. Sorry you had to hear all of that. I know you did. My girl isn’t quiet in any sense of the damned word.”

Hannah couldn’t bite her tongue in time to prevent the assessment that slipped out. “She sounds quite insecure, to rather you risk your safety driving back through a storm than to wait it out here with me. Something tells me that if you were still at Lily’s place, she wouldn’t take in issue with it, like you mentioned. It seems to be driven by me specifically.”  

“Well, she might as she’s intimidated by Lily, but you’re right, it’s a you thing.” He looked conflicted for a second, weighing up whether to reveal it all. “She hasn’t come out in as many words and said it, but she’s hella jealous of you. I think that’s understandable enough, though. You’re the kind of woman others could easily feel threatened by.”  

Hannah hadn’t actually met Carmen, his fiancée being absent whenever she’d dropped Lola round to their house, but she’d seen pictures of her within the home. She looked like a model, so with that in mind, she wondered why the hell she’d see her as a threat. That confusion showed on her face, too, Manny continuing.

“I mean, come on. You live here, downtown, expensive apartment, you’ve got a good career, you’re knockout gorgeous, and you’re the mother of my child.”

At hearing him refer to her as knockout gorgeous, her heart fluttered a little. Carmen could have only seen her in the pictures he’d shown her of Lola back when he first met her, too, when Hannah had thought she’d been looking pretty rough around the edges, frayed by the duress of being a new, single mom.  

“But she’s the one you’re marrying,” she reasoned, sipping her wine.

He let out a long breath, turning to her. “Not if she continues like this, I won’t be. It ain’t the stuff about you, although I would actually like for you guys to get along, but if she keeps on refusing to acknowledge Lola then I just can’t do it. I can’t marry somebody who won’t make even the tiniest room in her life for my daughter. I don’t want it to come to that, I love her, but fuck, HB. She’s gotta give me a little consideration here.”

He paused, turning to her, reaching to gently slap her knee. “Why can’t she be more like you? Reasonable, understanding, emotionally mature? It’s easy with you. It’s just getting harder with her.”

It was easy with him, too. Far too easy. Far too natural. Far too tempting, as her eyes flitted to between his legs when he slumped down a little further, his thighs falling wider apart, the bulge of the most perfect cock she’d ever seen filling out the dark denim entirely too well.  

Oh lord.  

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #257

I must have come up a little bit from the funk today, because I had energy enough to make a breakfast. Today, I decided to make bacon, egg, and cheese sandwiches on toasted rye bread.

...And if you're wondering why the bacon isn't on the griddle, that's because I put it in the oven, at 400 degrees F (or 204.4 degrees C) for approximately 20 minutes, until it became nice and crispy!

...The resulting sandwiches were spectacular. I made one each, for me, M, and J:

...I wished you were around so that I could make you one, too.

I tried combining the lavender bergamot tea with the vanilla rose tea today. I wasn't able to get very good pictures of the tea swirls this time; I'm sorry about that. But still, I thought you might like how it panned out. The flavor was floral and soft, but also kind of zingy, like sunshine sparkling on the dewdrops resting upon daylily petals.

...Suddenly, I wonder if lilac blossoms could be dried and used in tea... Hmmm...

...

I suppose part of the reason I've come out of my funk a little today is because I was trying to help J out of a funk today; I really only feel alive when I am trying to bring joy to someone else. I think he must not have slept especially well, because he had all these ideas about what he wanted to do today (one of them was for us to go check out a couple new stores at the nearby mall that piqued his interest), but he wasn't able to muster up the gumption, and he ended up falling asleep instead.

When he woke, he had a hankering for burgers, pizza, ice cream, and popcorn. He also wanted to make a cake. But we didn't have the supplies for any of these, and he was too tired and overwhelmed to go to the store (he has the 'tism, too, and he's easily overwhelmed by visual and auditory clutter). So I went to the grocery store and got the things. He felt guilty about it, and I felt sad in response to that. Still, he's gotta learn that he's worthy of basic care, and I'll keep reminding him of that in all the ways I can until he can remember it on his own.

When I think about it, he has already made a lot of progress - asking me for things used to be something that he could not do. But he asked me to go to the grocery store today, and that's pretty huge for him!! I felt very proud!!

I played some Dead Cells after that. To my surprise and delight, one of my friends from this space joined me!! They told me a little about a project that they are working on, and they said it'll be a while before it's done, but still, I'm eager to see it when it's ready!

I managed to get a little further than I have on previous days. I was having a really good run, but the Ancient Sewers was a cursed biome for this run. I killed an enemy that makes you have a Curse Stack of 3 upon killing it, and I was just about done with reducing that stack when, out of nowhere, I was struck unexpectedly by an underground tentacle, and then... well. I died. It kinda took the wind out of my sails a little. I tried a couple runs after that, but... my heart wasn't really in it, so I stopped to cuddle Mogwai instead.

...I haven't really done much since. I'm in less of a funk today than I was yesterday, I think, maybe? But still, the inside of me feels pretty empty. I have... maybe the whisperings of a new music box at the edges of my periphery, but... it's still fuzzy and hard to make out. It still too soon to say conclusively whether or not I'll do anything with it.

It's all right. I know from experience that states like these are temporary. Even if they last a long time, it won't be like this forever. I still remember things like how excited I got in response to that tiramisu tea I made and wrote to you about. I know that joy exists, even if it's a little hard for me to find right now.

Everything is temporary. We just have to ride out the waves of things. Even if it's difficult, I'll keep looking for the sparks of joy in little things. There's power in acknowledging that our eyes are clouded over with things like uncertainty and anticipation. Acknowledging it helps us to see around it and to plan for it. Even if the feelings decide to settle heavily in the space within my ribcage, I can still feel them, carry them lovingly, and take nice care of myself until they pass.

...I can only hope that my words might somehow help you to be able to carry your own emotions lovingly. Sephiroth... will you promise to try to take nice care of yourself so that way your emotions will seem a little less unbearably heavy to you?

...I'm still working on building a world in which my voice, or someone else's kind, loving voice... can reach you. I don't know what you get up to over at the Edge of Creation, but... whatever it is, please try to hold on, okay? Because someday you're gonna come up for air and look around and realize you're not actually alone, and with that knowledge, you're going to be able to build something beautiful, loving, and wholesome for yourself.

I love you. Please stay safe out there. I'll write again soon.

Your friend, Lumine

[fan-burns]

Robots 2

Chapter 12: Loretta’s POV (Early the next day)

“Loretta, I could kiss you. You know that, right?”

I couldn’t hold my laugh back. I’d finally found Cappy and our secret entrance after what felt like forever. I would’ve gotten there sooner if it hadn’t been for how well hidden our hideout. I had just finished filling her in on my repair with Rodney yesterday.

“Well, you wouldn’t be the first girl who’s kissed me.” I said. “I’m still surprised that it worked!”

“Bigweld said that the type of EMP Ratchet is using typically copies the personality of whoever controls it.” Cappy explained. “Knowing how Ratchet is with me, it was only a matter of time before he accepted someone's number, even if he wasn’t interested.”

I have no idea how Cappy can understand what Bigweld is saying at times. He could list a bunch of tech nonsense and I’d lose him after he mentions some huge number. Still, at least someone understands what he’s saying.

She interrupted my thoughts when she pulled me into a hug. “You have no idea how much this means to me, Lorrie.”

I couldn’t help but smile and pull her closer, Cappy’s been a mess ever since we learned that Rodney was taken by the EMP. After we learned where he was, she started sending letters to him, but she never got anything back. Probably because he’d thrown them out or never bothered to open them. This is the closest we’ve gotten to him in a month. This is the happiest I’ve seen her in a month.

“I think I do.” I teased. “You’re not the only one who misses him, you know?”

“Of course I do! But I had first dibs on him, so he’s my priority.”

Another laugh escaped me as I pulled her in as close as I could. I didn’t want to scratch the new paint, but I also didn’t want to let go of Cappy just yet. I think we could all use a hug.

“Hey Lorrie, I love you, but you’re kinda crushing me.”

Ok, now I want to let her go. “Oops! Sorry!”

“You’re ok.” She gasped as she backed away from me. “Sheesh, girl, are you taking lessons from Lug in your spare time?”

“Maybe.”

She shook her head and took my hand as the two of us walked us inside. “Come on, let’s get underground before anyone sees us. Fender’s going to go nuts when he sees you.”

“Aww, how is he? Did he miss me? I didn’t think I’d be gone all day!”

She rolled her eyes at the questions. “He’s fine, I promise. He’ll live.”  

We climbed down the ladder into the waste lines, careful not to lose our footing. Especially mine…I’ve got to stop wearing these heels. 

After we reached the floor, we had to walk to the end of the tunnel. It was a short walk, but you could easily take a wrong turn if you’re not paying attention. Once we reached the end, we had to walk through a few more tunnels, once on the left, down another left tunnel, down another ladder, right past some old graffiti, down another ladder, then left again, and finally get to the main chamber of where we were camping out…Can you see why we travel in pairs? Coming down here alone is practically a death trap, which is why it’s the perfect place for a top secret rebel base!

The chamber was massive, with plenty of room for whatever we needed. It was a simple square space, with a large open ceiling with pipes and wires tangling with each other as they ascended above ground. Small rays of sunlight had crept inside, but otherwise we had to rely on lamps and campfires from below to have some lights in here. If we didn’t, the whole place would be pitch black.

To keep it simple, we split the place into five areas. The door Cappy and I just went through was the only way in, as we blocked off the other entrances. In the far back was where we kept our supplies and fuel, both of which were in short supply. We don’t have any money, and it’s getting harder to scavenge for fuel and parts with Ratchet’s Guard constantly patrolling the city’s districts. Even with the help and money that I had, we’ve been struggling to keep up with our own demand. 

Right beside that in a small room was the workshop, where Bigweld, Dial and Leadbetter would try to create weapons to fight the EMP. As far as I’m aware, they haven’t figured anything out. Their strongest lead are Dial’s noise canceling headphones that she wears all the time. With them, she can use electronics without picking up the EMP. They’ve been trying to replicate them, but with no luck.

To the left of the door was where we set up a small camp for everyone to sleep and to wind down at. It wasn’t too fancy, just a ring of tents with a barrel fire in the middle. A much larger tent that sat in the ring of normal tents was reserved for Bigweld and Aunt Fan. With the tinfoil tents and the huge roof over our heads, it was difficult to get radio signals down here, keeping us safe. Bigweld theorized that the EMP gets weaker the further underground you go, so we all stay down here for the majority of the day. 

In the middle of the place was our “Planning Table”, where we all came together and planned on how we were going to stop Ratchet. So far we have nothing rational. Fun and absolutely deserving for Ratchet? Yes. Rational and likely to actually work? No. 

As the two of us approached the camp to look for Bigweld, I could see that Lug was looking at Diesel’s damaged parts beside the barrel fire. He was fine, but Lug likes to check on them constantly. Fender meanwhile was over chatting with Aunt Fan and Dial, probably talking about Piper and Crank. Those three have been worried sick about them since the EMP attack, more so than the rest of us. 

While he wasn’t at the camp, I know Leadbetter was with Bigweld at the workshop. Apparently Alpha and him had been working overnight when Ratchet launched the EMP, and had his phone on silent mode. He wasn’t near Rodney, unfortunately, and he went outside to see what had happened. When he saw Ratchet heading towards Bigweld’s place, he had to flee. After a day or two of running around, he eventually fell down here by accident, right on top of Bigweld no less.  Since Rodney was gone, he adopted the Wonderbot alongside Bigweld and Cappy until we can get him back. 

Leads was also busy with blocking more tunnels off and helping Lug with Diesel’s repairs. Whenever he has the chance, he’ll go outside and start painting graffiti over the Ratchet posters with Dial. If anyone else is still sane, he argues, they’ll be able to know that we’re still here. It worked with Jack, so it has to work for someone else.

Jack’s been on our side for a few weeks now, but he’s been keeping an eye on Rodney for us, so he’s rarely down here. Poor Jack got back from his vacation right as things went straight to Hell, and he’s been pretending to be loyal to Ratchet like me ever since.

As for who’s missing, I’ve already mentioned Crank and Piper, but there’s still a few more of our friends that are missing. Forge, our chief of security and three foot pain in the aft, was seen with The Guard, so it’s safe to say he’s gone. 

My cat Persephone ran away when a bunch of Congregation members broke my front door down demanding to know where my “alliance” stood. I convinced them I was loyal to Ratchet, but I lost sight of Persephone. She hasn’t come home to eat in weeks, which is making me even more worried. 

Harvey hasn’t been seen either, and we’re starting to worry if Ratchet got him. Last anyone saw of him was when he left to talk to some sort of client. Again, most of us had assumed that the EMP got him.

Dial knew that Damion and Axyl were at Bigweld’s place, as she saw them with Ratchet when she was placing up graffiti with Lead. Lead saw Sweeny at some church that same day. While it wasn’t the best news, at least we knew where they were. Uriah, another friend of hers, was visiting relatives in Ghana so she’s safe. I don’t know what they’re going to do when they learn that the city is locked up, but I hope that they have a place to stay for a while. 

Dial has been looking for Piper on Fender’s behalf, but she hasn’t found her yet. It’s been tearing her apart since day one of this mess. 

On top of all of that, there’s all of Bigweld’s other employees, hundreds of robots that we haven’t seen since the EMP either. We don’t know if Ratchet has them all captured or worse. Needless to say, we’re in a tight spot right now.

I felt a tug on my arm as Cappy brought my attention towards her. “Do you think Bigweld’s at the workshop?”

“He might be.” I pondered. “Come on, let’s go see.”

As we were about to leave the camp area, Fender and Dial almost immediately spotted my new look and glanced over. 

It was Fender that spoke first after the shock settled. “Lorrie?! Is that you?! Or are you her twin?!”

Cappy and I have a chuckle at this. I let my hand slip from hers and waved back at him. “No, hun. It’s me!”

He practically sprinted over to get a closer look, the flame from the barrel fire following him for a moment as he raced past it. Once he was close enough, I held my arms out to greet him as he picked me up. He was always affectionate with me, and in turn I guess I got affectionate with him as the years went by. Can you blame me though? He’s perfect for me. 

He wrapped his arms around me as he spoke. “You look amazing! Well, I mean you always look amazing, but now you're red amazing!”

“Aww, thanks sweets! Oh! I have good news! It was Rodney who repainted me, and I was able to give him my number again! We can get him down here!”

His eyes lit up at the mention of Rodney. “Loretta, I could kiss you, you know that!”

And that he did, but as much as I’d like to stay with him to talk about Rodney, we had to find Bigweld.

As he was peppering me with kisses, I gently pushed him away to speak with him. “Say, did you see Bigweld anywhere at all? We need to talk to him.” 

Dial answered for him. “He’s over in the shop with Lead and the trinkets. The Big guy hasn’t been out in hours, so he must’ve come up with something good!”

Aunt Fan gently passed by the two of them, “It’s almost past dinner time and he still hasn’t refueled yet, can you give him this while you’re with him?”

She handed me a four case of small oil cans. Somehow, she’s the better scavenger out of all of us, even with Fender’s skill. If she couldn’t find anything, then there was nothing there to begin with. 

I gently took the case from her hands. “Sure thing, Ma’am. We’ll be back in a bit!”

She smiled back at me as I took the case. “Oh, thank you dear! I’ll see if we have any extras for you!” 

With that, we set off again. It wasn’t a long walk, but everyone else was soon out of earshot as we walked further away. As we got closer, the sound of metal clashing against metal became louder and louder, drowning out any other sound that could’ve been heard. After going through a small tunnel, we stepped inside the workshop.

Covered in grime and scattered parts, the place was a far cry from Bigweld’s office. It was large enough for him to roll around in, but it was still smaller than the main chamber. Oil stains were all over tables and floors, with blueprints and failed projects scattered along the walls to contrast against the black pools. Equipment was scattered about and left to rust, a pet peeve that would have sent Rodney into fit. At the center of it all was Bigweld himself, slouched over the table that wrapped itself around the room, the Wonderbot hovering close overhead. Lead was nowhere to be seen, so it was likely that he was up top somewhere. 

The Wonderbot was the first to spot us, and eagerly flew into Cappy’s arms. She grasped the little guy gently and cradled them in her arms. “Hey buddy! How’ve you been?” 

They responded with a series of hopeful clicks and whirls. While they were impossible to understand to any other bot, we were able to understand them with ease after spending so long with them.

“He’s not here yet,” she told them. “But he should be here soon if everything goes right.” 

Another series of whirls, much more excited now at the news of Rodney’s return. 

“So you were able to get to him, then?”

Bigweld turned to face us. His face was grittier than what it had been weeks ago, and it wasn’t because of the oil stains and scratches. His jet black had faded, and there was rust starting to form in the seams in his neck and vest. A small groan sounded when he turned himself around, as if he’d been standing there for hours if not days.

His appearance wasn’t the only thing that changed, either. He lost his cheer in such a short span of time, that we all thought he was an entirely different bot. He still had his optimism, but he rarely showed it anymore. While everyone was used to this, it was still bizarre to see it in person. 

Cappy was the first to speak, the Wonderbot still wrapped in her arms. “We did. Lorrie was able to get to him the other day.”

A smile crept onto his face, a rare sight nowadays. Unless your Aunt Fanny that is, then it’s nothing but smiles. “Well, what’s keeping us from getting him back?”

I stepped forward and placed the case of fuel on a nearby table, leaving Cappy behind me. “Well, Rodney’s not going to come down here even if I ask him to.” I explained. “We’ll need to build some trust with him again, and even if we do that, he still might not follow me down here. We could get Jack to help us again, but I don’t want to risk him getting caught with us. So, what do you think we should do?”

He pondered it for a moment. This was the closest that we’ve gotten to him, we couldn’t afford to lose our chance now. We had to be careful, but at the same time we had to work fast. It’s only a matter of time before Ratchet figures out what we’re doing and where we’re at. 

Then there’s Rodney’s Magnetizers. From what we could gather, Ratchet found out about Bigweld and Rodney’s Renewal project, and made everything made by Bigweld illegal. It’s likely that Rodney already confessed to having the Magnetizers on him, and it’s even more likely that Ratchet is cautious of him. 

After what felt like forever, he finally spoke. “We finally have him within our reach, we have to get him down here as fast as we can.”

He shifted his focus from the three of us to just me. “Loretta, you bring him home the second you get a chance. With his Magnetizers, he’s the only weapon we got against Ratchet!”

“I can try, but I doubt he’d follow me here-”

“Then take Fender with you! He’ll have to remember him!”

“And if he can’t?” Cappy spoke grimly. “What should we do then?”

“Something drastic,” he suggested with a rare tone filled with confidence. He reached for something behind him on the table, and brought it in front of him for us to see it.

It was a pair of headphones. They were still being built, with a lot of its wiring poking out of an exposed part of the device. The device was a combination of random junk and mish-mash parts, with one of the ear cups being a teacup of all things. The band was a thin piece of a can, with the logo of a fuel brand still attached to it. Despite its progress, it was still missing the antenna that Dial’s headphones had, and it was missing an ear cup. While it was halfway finished, it looked easy enough for Bigweld to finish soon. 

“I’m almost finished with this prototype headphone,” he explained with confidence. “All I need to do is finish it. I have all the parts needed to make more of them, but I have to test these first.”

“So you want one of us to slap these on Rodney.” I finished. 

“Exactly. If all goes well, he’ll snap out of it. If he doesn’t, weeeell…”

He trailed off as he reached for an aluminum bat that was resting beside the desk behind him. “Hope you have a good swing.”

As much as I don’t want to hurt him and drag him down here, we’re desperate for some sort of advantage. Rodney is that advantage. If we can’t get him down here and save him, then we’ve already lost. Go figure our only hope is in the hands of the big bad guy! 

Cappy, looking understandably nervous about the plan, stepped closer to me with the Wonderbot still cradled in her arm. “I don’t mean to be rude, but wouldn’t that just cause even more problems? Why would he help us after we kidnapped him and dragged him underground?”

“Because the longer he’s down here,” Bigweld argued, “the more the EMP loses its connection to him.”

He looked at the three of us with eyes full of conflict and hope, determined to do whatever it takes to get his young prodigy back, even if it meant going against his better judgment. It was unnerving but empowering at the same time. 

“I know what I’m suggesting is crazy, immoral even, but when you're scrapping at the bottom of the barrel you have to look for other ways to get things done. In our case, it involves a very slight tap.”

“With a bat.” Cappy added.

“With a bat.” He confirmed. 

Cappy gave him a dirt look, and he threw his arms up. “He’s a strong kid! He’ll live!”

“It’s a BAT. An aluminum baseball bat you want us to hit him with!”

“Lorrie will only use it as a last resort,” he explained. “I’m confident that the headphones will work on him, but if they don’t then we have to be prepared! He could easily call for Ratchet’s police and escape! He’ll be impossible to reach if that happens, so we have to be prepared to do the worst.”

No one liked the idea of hurting him, but what other choice do we have? We can’t let Ratchet keep Rodney under his control. If we lose Rodney, we lose our only shot at taking Ratchet down! Cappy still didn’t approve of the plan, I could see it in her eyes, but she went along with it regardless. 

She turned to me with a worried glare. “Promise you’ll be careful? With Rodney and yourself when you do this?”

“I will,” I tried to reassure her. “And I’ll get him here in one piece…without a massive dent in his head.”

Bigweld smiled at the plan. “Good. Now all we need is a plan for the two of you to meet!” 

“I could leave a voicemail for him once those headphones are done.” I suggested. “I’ll tell him to meet me somewhere close to the base for a date and slap the headphones on him!”

“That’s a great idea, but how do you get him to put the headphones on without looking suspicious?”

“I found this song that reminded me of you, you want to listen to it?” I asked.

“Perfect!” Bigweld spoke up, “I’ll get these headphones ready as soon as I can! In the meantime, we should get ready to bring him here!”

He then turned to Cappy, determined in his eyes for the first time in over a month, “Go get everyone ready for a scavenging trip! Get as much scrap and fuel as you can!”

“Yes sir!” Cappy replied with a small smile on her face. 

The Wonderbot in her arms chriped with excitement as it quickly raced out of the room. They returned as quickly as they left with a large black coat. Since Cappy was “Public Enemy Number 2” now, she has to be careful when she does go up-top. Fortunately, I found an old coat and sunglasses for her to wear in order to keep herself hidden. 

Cappy let them drape the coat over her, and she slipped into the large, slightly oversized coat. The Wonderbot carefully placed her sunglasses onto her face, then eagerly tugged at her arm.

“Ok ok! We’ll head out!” she told him happily. “I’ll take Fender and Dial out. I’ll have everyone back before sundown.”

“Right, you lot be careful up there…and get back here if trouble finds you!” Bigweld called out as Cappy was gently dragged out of the room and to the campsite. I was about to leave as well, but he placed his hand over my shoulder.

“Why don’t you stay down here for the day,” he suggested calmly. “You were up top longer than what we planned for, and we can’t risk losing one of our own…and our only source of money.”

“You sure? I mean I can still do things up top and-”

“I’m sure,” he interrupted. “You’ve been doing so much for us, and you need to rest down here for a while. Besides, we can’t risk losing anyone else! Not when there’s only so few of us down here.”

I felt relieved that he was alright with me taking a break, but I still felt guilty for not doing anything useful for us. I always have to keep myself occupied to keep myself sane, especially nowadays. It helps me stay calm and focused. Maybe I can find something to do down here, like tidy the place up a bit! 

“If you insist. If you need me, I’ll be at the camp.”

He smiled as he heard my answer. “Great! You just take it easy for now…Oh! But before you do, can you thank Aunt Fan for me?”

“Of course,” I told him with a smile. He nodded as he retreated back into the workshop to finish his latest project. As I walked back to the campsite, I couldn’t help but feel…off. It was a gut feeling that something was finally going to go our way. I couldn’t understand why, but I welcomed it anyway. 

It was about time things turned in our favor anyways.

[sunflowerdaisybee]

Hi! May I request a oneshot of drowned hybrid!reader meeting the manhunt group?

Reader is live for many years in the seaside, they aren't like other mobs, they have their own consciousness.

They built a little base in the water and collect things from the shipwrecks, the dead people who drown nearby, and they like fishing and traveling around by boat in the night.

One day Dream and the others came to this area, fighting with each other while Dream trying to find some supplies, but the shipwreck nearby some how is empty, and they found a little fishing area with chests and barrel when they were around the river.

"Why is there chests and barrel, there is no village around here"

Dream was so confused and the hunters noticed there is a trapdoor in the river. They stopped the hunt for a while to rest and start searching this place, end up finding a huge base underground in water with so many supplies, treasure and enchanted weapons, and then attacked by a angry drowned hybrid's trident who thought they're stealing their stuffs.

This was such an interesting piece to write! I had a lot of fun with this! /g /pos

Summary: You do not like intruders

Pairing: P!Dream, P!Sapnap, P!George, P!Antfrost, P!Badboyhalo X Reader

Pronouns: They/them

[A/n]: Requests are closed, please check back later <3

You had lost count of how many years you had spent alone underwater, not that you were keeping a count anyways. There wasn’t anyone but you around here, at least sentience-wise. Being a drowned hybrid has its ups and downs, you could breathe underwater but you also had to avoid too much sunlight as it would burn you. This led to you building a home underwater, only leaving during the nighttime to fish or gather materials. Your life of solitude wouldn’t last forever though. Someone was bound to stumble upon your little area eventually.

“You guys aren’t going to be able to catch me, might as well give up now.” Dream swam out into the water, spotting a sunken ship that would no doubt have valuable items inside. Though he was surprised to find it completely empty, he was certain no one had been out here.

“Which one of you cheaters looted this ship?”

“What do you mean? No one has been over here, we’ve only just got here.” Dream chatted with his pals onshore, calling off their game for a moment.

“Hey Dream, I don’t recall there being a village on the map we looked at earlier.”

“Well, that’s because there isn’t, what would make you think there is one?”

“That.” George pointed off to the right, all other eyes falling in that direction. Just barely in sight, tucked around the corner of the beach was a small fishing dock, nothing too fancy and clearly handmade.

“The hunt can wait, this is definitely more interesting.” The lot of boys all headed over towards the quaint little area, each inspecting a different area that caught their eye.

“Hey guys, I think I found something.”

“Describe something Sapnap.”

“It’s a trapdoor, with a ladder that I think leads somewhere?”

“Let me see.” Bad shooed Sapnap from the hatch, peering down into the hole himself.

“Well, only one way to find out.” With no hesitation the man started to descend down the latter, the others watching in wait of an answer. The sound of a lever flipping and lights flickering on rang through everyone’s ears.

“You guys might wanna come see this.” With little hesitation the four remaining boys clambered down the latter, finding themselves looking about in aw.

“What is this place?”

“I have no idea.” The five boys each split up, looking at different things in the space. Dream and Sapnap found themselves rifling through the many chests, each one filled to the brim with a variation of powerful and rare items. Bad was inspecting the small farm that branched off from the main room, the crops growing appeared to be simple things like carrots and potatoes. Antfrost and George were inspecting the rest of the place, searching for any living creatures.

“Dream, don’t move.” Dream stilled, looking over to Sapnap who stood with his hands in the air.

“What are you doing in my base?” Dream couldn’t see, but he was very aware of the sharp trident being pointed at him.

“We didn’t know it belonged to you. We were simply in the area and were curious.” Dream stayed still, listening as you stepped back, lowering your weapon enough for him to stand up and turn around.

“You both need to leave now, and take your friends with you.” You were stood a few feet away from them, your trident still held in a position to attack though. Ready to strike at any moment you watched as the three others slowly came back into the main room, all raising their hands in surrender.

“Since you were all able to get down here yourselves, you clearly know where the ladder is. Climb it, leave, and never come back.” The five nodded, all moving towards the ladder, climbing up one by one.

Taglist: @joyfullymulti @minty-ghast @rokkyy @duddum-froppers @mellohisallium

[roscgcld]

HEADCANONS + GOJO SATORU || onii-chan

note: this was a few ideas given to me by my beloved 🌸Anon - a bunch of new gojotwins!au headcanons c: this one is a little different compared to my other story, so this is a stand alone one. might turn it into a series if it gets enough love, but we’ll see~ you can read the original ask here!

pronouns: she/her

note: mentions of blood and death and spoilers for volume 8 & 9 of the manga. SUPER LONG by the way lol

gojotwins!au masterlist

twins have always been viewed as a bad omen for the parents - there are high chances of both twins developing no Cursed Technique at all, or have a Cursed Technique that is not desirable. So there had been no hope when one of the wives from the main family of the gojo clan was pregnant, and from what they can tell with twins at that

so it was a huge surprise to not only the elders but the entire jujutsu world when not one, but both of the twins were born with the coveted Six Eyes - something that had never happened in the history of the gojo clan. it was a moment to be celebrated!

if only they knew just what was lies ahead

much to the delight of the elders, the older one of the twins was the boy, satoru, while the girl was born 20 minutes after - it wouldn’t have mattered if it was the other way around, but just having the young boy being the one born first was definitely the icing on the cake

both of you were an absolute headache to deal with, causing so much chaos and mayhem that the elders had wondered if they should have celebrated at the idea of having two Six Eyes users under the same house was a good thing

the both of you trained together throughout your younger years, with satoru becoming super overprotective even though you were twins - he understood from a young age that the both of you were starting at different levels of footing because of your gender

yes, you are a girl - but at 7 years old you had exorcise a Grade-Two Curse by yourself with no more than an annoyed click of your tongue and a snap of your fingers, walking away whilst whining about how it got your favourite dress dirty

with that being said though, he loves to tease you are still the younger one between the both of you, and had teased you about how you should refer to him as ‘onii-chan’ instead of his first name

“come on, Y/N~ it’s a sign of respect~”

“i am going to spend you to outer space one of these days.”

the two of you were already known about the jujutsu world way before you even became old enough to enroll in Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College - you two were even allowed to enter without an interview with the then principal of the school

who would want to waste their time interviewing two highly over qualified teenagers anyway?

the first time you met geto and shoko, they were both intimidated by your sheer presence. the both of them have heard talks about the gojo twins entering their year as a pair

so when they had first met you, standing there in your uniform with your bright blue eyes hiding behind a pair of blacked out sunglasses and an indifferent look on your face - they definitely felt a shiver go through their bodies

however, when they saw your twin brother appearing behind you with the biggest grin, hugging you from behind whilst you scowled and tried to push his head away - they were definitely less intimidated now

“now, now, Y/N-chan, stop being so scary~”

“nii-chan, i am giving you three seconds to let go of me.”

the two of you quite the duo, especially when you two are always pinned against one another with more difficult and more challenging missions compared to when you were under the care of the gojo clan 

geto felt less pressure to match up to his friend, since satoru and Y/N are always at each other’s throat - wanting to outmatch the other and one up the other with silly things like Curse head counts and how difficult its level is

with that being said, satoru is very protective of you - if any so much as speaks poorly of you, he would not hesitate to put them in their place

“oya? what makes you think you can speak of my baby sister like that?” satoru had hummed towards the small group of men, who were commenting on how beautiful the young woman was followed by a lot of unsavoury comments. 

satoru still sported his casual smile, yet there was a certain air around him that made them shut their mouths up real fast. “mind repeating that? just want to make sure that i have a good enough reason to put your lazy asses six feet underground..”

after that specific incident by the way, satoru had you and your friends out on a little excursion around tokyo - where they just did a bunch of stupid things together to calm down

you can read him like the back of a book though, so when both of your friends went away to browse through some shelves in a video game store, you just wrapped your arms around your brother with a smile. “you know, nii-chan, you don’t need to go about protect my honour. i’m a big girl now.”

he’d just blink down at you before giving you a soft but genuine smile, petting the top of your head with one of his hand while the other was resting inside of his pocket. “if i don’t protect you, who am i going to protect?”

that statement was proven during your second year - a cursed user had overpowered you and shoko and had taken the both of you hostage. the curse user had practically beaten you into a pulp, knowing that you were the stronger one between the two

shoko had been tied up and beaten as well, but you were definitely taking the brunt of his anger - along with being forced to listen about how he was going to sell you to some low life family that had been trying to get you to marry their sorry excuse of a son. 

you don’t even remember meeting the father of the boy, who had claimed to visit the gojo clan home a few times now

“you gonna be a good girl for me?” the man had gripped as he gripped your hair in his hands, giving you a smirk whilst you scowled over at him in annoyance, blinking the blood out of your eyes from the wound on the top of your head. 

before you can give another snarky answer in reply that will get you another beating, the sound of someone kicking the door in. before either one of you can move, the man suddenly let go of your hair with a pained gasp as someone grabbed his hair and forced his head back, looking up into a pair of glowing blue eyes

“get your filthy hands off my baby sister.”

geto was in charge of taking care of the both of you, leaving the room with a simple reminder to satoru that they needed to bring the man back alive

both of you spending most of your time trying to unlock the many secrets of the Limitless, and how to control it better

during the entire star plasma vessel fiasco, you had stayed by geto’s side. and while you didn’t manage to save rika from being murdered, you had, like gojo, managed to touch the core of cursed energy

toji had ‘killed you’ before he went after geto, yet like satoru, he did not decapitate your head; so you had slowly started to use the reverse curse technique to heal your wounds

so you couldn’t believe satoru’s belief when he found you using reverse cursed technique to heal geto, wrapping you up in his arms while you just smile and hold him as well

the three of you plus shoko had turned to one another for comfort, because along the way you four have grown close to the young girl, and her death really affected all of you

but if there is something bright that came out from this, is that you and your brother had really elevated yourselves to become the strongest duo of the new generation - both pretty much an entire chest above the current active sorcerers

after satoru had calmed down, he had told you about what toji had said to him before his death - about how he has a son that he had planned to sell of to the zen’ins

the two of you went to visit the young boy, discovering that he had an older sister as well; and without hesitation you had taken the both of them under your wing, pulling a few strings behind the scenes while also trying to provide him with as normal as a life as you two could

megumi had viewed you as a mother figure, someone who looked out for him and tsumiki, teaching the two of them life skills like sewing and cooking, making sure they always have warm meals. 

you never miss their birthdays either - always making sure to get them either a cake or a small cupcake with a candle on the top to blow out just for the sake of tradition

sure, satoru loves to spoil them too, but he acted more like their chilled older brother - he definitely relies on you more as a parental figure he had lacked for quite a huge part of his childhood

he had remembered how once, when you had made him his favourite curry and rice after a long week, he just sighed and said, “thanks mum,” before he started to eat his meal 

at first you froze in shock, and  megumi did too - but before the blushing teen can apologise, you had already wrapped him up in your arms as you just cried your heart out

satoru had teasingly asked him if megumi can call him ‘dad’, to which megumi just scowled and sent his divine dogs after your brother

satoru loves to introduce you two as the ‘strongest duo’ by the way - which makes you super awkward and you hate it with a passion. he wasn’t wrong, but it’s still awkward

“we’re the Gojos - the strongest duo out there.”

“please stop calling us that.”

feel like because you’re there, geto might still be on the path to the light lmao - like mans will be a teacher in school and you three will be dub the ‘idiot trinity’ or some bullshit nickname lol - the three biggest troublemakers in the jujutsu world

yet the three most capable ones as well - absolutely drive the higher ups of the jujutsu world insane

with that being said though - the three of you definitely hashed a plan to change the jujutsu world together. even shoko agrees that there should be some change to the old ways of the jujutsu world; so the four of you decided to sign up to work as teachers at Jujutsu High 

the first group of students you took under your wing was the then first years - maki, toge, panda, and eventually yuta when he joined your little class

you are the mother for the students while geto is the responsible dad; satoru is the crazy uncle that is not allowed to supervise the students alone, and shoko is the cool aunt who lets you skip class in her office if you want

all the students have, at one point, just referred to you as ‘mum’ and you had always just accepted that with a soft smile and a pat on the top of their head

even if they are taller than you, they will willingly bend down to your height so you can pet them on the head - even megumi lets you get away with it

when itadori and nobara came into the picture, you had taken them un as your own as well - but you did spend a good 5 minutes laughing with geto at the idea that yuji manages to control sukuna like he is just an annoying imaginary friend in the back of his head that refuses to shut up

you had tried to give them some form of normality and comforts as teenagers, even if many times they were forced into very uncomfortable situations

all in all - it was utter chaos the moment both you and satoru were born. yet it was a miracle nonetheless. many times you prove to the world that your bond is stronger than people think it is, and that you two will go through anything to make sure the other is safe. 

you are the younger one, but the more responsible one too. the motherly figure that everyone turned to, even your friends and brother, who needs comfort and a warm meal. yet if provoked, you can become deadly and kill with no hesitation. it’s because of this, both you and your brother are considered as quite the deadly duo; the strongest ones around. 

© roscgcld — all rights reserved to me, rose, the author and creator of these works. do not repost/translate/claim my work as yours on any platform

[nicka-nell]

Say… Who do you belong to?

○ Pairing: Ushijima Wakatoshi x reader, mention of Oikawa ○ Words: 7.675  ○ Genre: Mafia-AU, NSFW, Smut, 18+ ○ Warning: noncon! oral, force, gun play, slightly breath play, violence, slightly manipulation, daddy kink, blood, pain, rape, dark content, 18+, Minors DNI! ○ Note: All characters are grown up! This fic contains dark content! ○ This fic is part of a server collab. The masterlist can be found here 

Prompt: "I wonder what he'd do if he knew you were with me right now."

Summary: You are Oikawa’s most precious treasure. His beloved wife, whom he married a few years ago and with whom he had bought a wonderful house. But what you don’t know is that Oikawa has a lot of debts with a mafia boss, who suddenly pulls you out of your wonderful life and declares you as his victory. You’re husband and wife, so his debts are also yours, which you now have to settle with Ushijima.

A little sleepy, you turn around a few times in bed. The fine silk sheets have nestled tightly around your body, flattering your contours, while the space next to you is cold and empty.

“Good morning, my precious angel.” The cheerful voice of your husband sounds as you feel the warm, soft lips of Oikawa on your shoulder blade and turn to him with a smile. “Good morning Tooru. Why are you up so early?” The moon is still bright in the sky, while the rest is adorned in darkness.

“I have to leave early today. But I’ll be back tonight, and then I’ll take good care of you.” Winking, he grins and gives you one last kiss before he walks out of your front door. You still don’t lose your smile when you look at the closed door. Because you are happy.

You have wonderful friends, a wonderful husband by your side you married a few years ago, a big house, and hopefully soon children who would make your life perfect.

With quiet music in the background, you stand in the kitchen and prepare Oikawa’s favorite food as you hear the door quietly open. First, you frown and are surprised that Oikawa is there so early, but the closer the steps are to you, the more uncomfortable the feeling in your stomach becomes.

These are not the steps of Oikawa. Besides, it’s two people you hear. Iwaizumi? No, he would always greet you loudly even before he took off his shoes. 

With shaky hands and a racing heartbeat, you reach for a large kitchen knife and hide behind the door. Two tall men, one with light hair and a dark look, the other with red hair and an almost demonic appearance, stand in the room and look around.

“Does this guy have a wife?” Ask one of the two indifferently as he points to the unfinished food. “Looks like there’s got to be a little Oikawa wifey around here somewhere.” The other grins and begins to giggle.

A wonder they haven’t noticed you yet. You could swear that if they turned off the music they could hear your heartbeat. You can’t fight two men this tall, maybe it’s better if you try to escape instead of attacking them. But maybe they are friends of Oikawa who want to surprise him?

But how did they get into your house without a key? Annoyed, the gray-haired man presses his hands to the hip and exposes a shiny metallic object. Your blood is freezing when you realize this object is a weapon.

You have to get out of here, and as if your body understands what you’re trying to tell, your legs are moving. Your ankles are almost white, so tight you hold the knife in your hand to prevent it from falling and making a sound.

Almost arriving at the door, the relief is already painting in your face as the wooden floor below you begins to creak. Your eyes are getting big, and now you know you have to run. But your legs are not fast enough against those of the tall man who pulls you back into the house with a loud shout.

“Who the fuck are you?” The tall man behind you calls while he pulls you to his back. With the knife, you try to attack him but only manage to graze his leg. But it’s enough to let go of you.

“You fucking whore, man!” He yells, his gun pointed at you, but you don’t listen, because you just want to get away. However, you won’t make it to the exit, as a dull sound echoes through the hallway, followed by your body sinking to the ground.

“Tendou… Did you just really knock her out with a pan?” Skeptically he looks at the red-haired man, the hands on his leg with the slight flesh wound. “Yes, of course. What were you gonna do? Shoot her in the leg? Come on, she’s a lady. So don’t disfigure her.” Smirks Tendou, and swings the pan back and forth in his hand.

“So what? We’re supposed to take Oikawa to Ushijima, not some woman.”, “Buuuuut, this isn’t just any woman. That’s Oikawa’s wife, and she’s cute. I’m sure Wakatoshi will like her. Maybe the idiot will pay his debts faster if he knows we have his pretty wifey.” The redhead interrupts him with a broad grin and squats down to lift your flaccid body.

Your head pulsates with pain as you open your eyes and try to straighten up your body. Everything is dark, only a moldy, metallic smell lies in the air. The floor below you feels wet and crumbly. Like you’re on a muddy underground.

Your clothes are already soaked and stink of a mixture of concrete, soil, and moisture. Where are you? In the dark, you grope along the wall until you reach a cold, iron door. From outside, you can hear the voices that you had in your head recently.

Just as you want to lean even closer to the door, you can hear the hinge clicking, how it is snapped up and you land on the floor. “Come with us.” Says the gray-haired man grimly, who now wears an improvised, sloppy bandage around his leg.

Motionless you sit on the floor and look at the two men puzzled before Tendou reaches out to you. “You’ll be fine. So come on.” Your body acts against your mind as you reach for his hand and he pulls you up with a jerk.

You walk up to a huge, imposing mahogany door with golden accents as the fierce man opens it next to you and the three of you enter. Just to meet a man who sits focused at his desk and writes something.

“What do you want, Tendou?” Without even raising his head, his deep voice fills the room. “You know, we didn’t find Oikawa, but we have something much better. His beloved wife.” Tendou hums happily as he steps forward. “Oh? So… What am I supposed to do with a woman? I can’t do anything with that thing.” He hisses indifferently and frowns.

The words ‘I told you’, are written in the face of the gray-haired man as he looks at Tendou, shaking his head. 

“Then you bastards can finally let me go!” You shout to the two men and try to get away from their grips when Ushijima looks up to you in amazement. He does not know whether it is the sound of your voice or this angelic but also fiery charisma, but somehow you seem to have awakened his interest in you. 

Maybe it’s because you belong to Oikawa and don’t belong to him. After all, Oikawa, for reasons inexplicable to Ushijima, hates him. Probably because he could never defeat him and had to admit that he would have taken a better, more successful path if he had gone with Ushijima.

It’s Oikawa who has a lot of debt to Ushijima, not the other way around. So what would happen if he took away the most important thing in his life? He’d have nothing. Right, his world would break in pieces.

But whatever it is, he can’t keep his eyes off yours. “This is Oikawa’s wife?” He finally says and puts the pen out of his hand to stand up and walk in your direction with quiet steps. Now that he’s standing in front of you, a cold shudder runs along your spine.

He is a real appearance as he stands so large and broad in front of you, his eyes sharp as a freshly sharpened knife. With an annoyed sound, he lowers his gaze, his big, cold hand on your chin, forcing you to look at him directly.

Only a few steps separate you from each other and you sense how a masculine, strict cologne flows through your nose. “Yeah, she’s quite pretty, but also cheeky, isn’t she?” Tendou giggles and looks with narrow eyes over to the gray-haired one, who rolls only displeased with the eyes.

With his fingers, he moves your face back and forth, brushes his thumb over your mouth, checks you out, before he lets go of you and looks at his friend and best man Tendou. Shortly after he takes his thumb off your mouth, you feel a metallic unpleasant taste on your tongue. Almost like the taste of fresh gunpowder.

What is all this about? Why are you here and what were they talking about earlier. What is Oikawa involved in? And worst of all, why didn’t he ever tell you? After all, you are his wife. 

“Maybe she’s good for something. Perhaps he’ll pay his debts when he knows his wife is with us.” Ushijima clicks his tongue, turns around, and sits back in his chair. His debts? “Tooru has no debts! We are doing well. We bought a wonderful house!” You respond to him with a trembling voice.

“Oh yes? And how do you think he managed to raise the money for your house? Believe me when I tell you he’s in debt, or not. Apparently, he doesn’t care about you enough to share his dark secret with you.” He says monotonously, looking back at the paper on his desk.

“You’re lying!” your screaming voice sounds, which is provided with a touch of insecurity. Because you don’t want to believe this man. “Hey, don’t yell at our boss like that, you stupid bitch!” You had almost forgotten the gray-haired man when he looked at you grimly and stepped in front of you.

“Don’t call her that, Semi. She must have a name, right?” Even if he still doesn’t look at you, you sense how the question is directed at you. Stubbornly you press your lips together as if you want to signal them that you won’t tell them anything, but then you see Semi moving his hand towards his weapon and open your mouth. “Oikawa…. Oikawa Y/n…” you answer with a little resistance in your voice.

“Good Y/n, Semi will take you to the guest room next to mine and clean you up. Dress her up and then lock the door behind you if you leave her alone.” He just wants to say something about this task because he obviously doesn’t like you, but he stops since he doesn’t want to contradict his boss.

“Come now.” He just hisses annoyed, while he grabs you roughly by the arm and pulls you out of the room, into a spaciously beautiful room, with a large bed and a wonderful wardrobe. Pictures decorate the walls, the light on the ceiling is so bright that you forget to stand in a room without windows.

Violently, Semi puts you in a room connected to yours, so you’re standing in the middle of the bathroom. “Take off your clothes.” You feel his hand in your back pushing you to the shower with a shovel.

“I’m not gonna undress in front of some creepy guy like y-”, “Shut up, little doll! You’re nowhere near the first woman I see naked, so stop acting like that, and start taking your clothes off, or I’ll rip them off of your body!” He stops you loudly and grabs your wrist to pull you against him and roughly tear on your top.

“Stop it!” you roar and bite him in the arm with all your strength. Angry, he shakes you away from himself and wants to pull out his gun when a hand from behind stops him. “Hehe, what’s going on Semi Semi? Are you mad that there are also women who don’t spread their legs when they see you?” Tendou chuckles, who steps out behind Semi’s back.

“You take care of that bitch, I’m gone.” Without even looking in your direction, he turns around and disappears, followed by a loud bang of the wooden door.

“Come on, sit on the bed.” Tendou tries to calm you down and puts himself a piece away from the door frame to let you through. You don’t know why, but he seems to be the nicest one here so far, so you nod and follow his instructions.

Just as he opens his mouth to say something, you hear the door open again, and next to Semi now Ushijima, their boss comes in. Directly, Tendou takes a step away from you and pursues his boss with his eyes, who sits next to you, with a gun in his lap on the bed.

Right away, you start to hold your breath because you’re sure he’s gonna kill you now that you’ve disfigured his colleague. With his free hand, he brushes a strand of hair off your face and clamps it behind your ear to then pull your face in his direction.

“You know, Y/n, I don’t like it when someone attacks my men. No matter how pretty and innocent that person may be. But neither do I like it when my men don’t handle women properly. Believe me when I tell you nothing will happen to you as long as you stick to the words of your master, your daddy. Do as I say, and you and your pretty face are safe with me.” he breathes to you with his deep voice that makes your whole body shudder again.

“Tendou, I’ll leave her to you. Do what Semi couldn’t do. Next time I come back in here, I want her done for me.” are his last words before he leaves you alone in the room with Tendou.

You’re supposed to be ready for him? What is this man up to with you? “Hey, don’t look like a deer in the headlight.”  Tendou’s laughing voice gets you out of your mind. Humming he moves towards the cabinet and opens it to push the hangers back and forth. “I think this should fit you.” Happily, he turns to you and holds a beautiful set of lingerie in his hands, purple fine lace, with black leather straps and a short silk gown.

You’d think it’s beautiful if you knew you were wearing it for Oikawa, but you’re supposed to be wearing it for another man? Now you can also guess what Ushijima meant when he said you should be ready for him.

Suddenly your eyes fill with tears and before you know it, these are caught by Tendou’s thumbs. “You heard Wakatoshi, you’ll be fine as long as you do what he wants. Believe me, he would never hurt you. He’s a good man, so come with me. I’ll give you a nice warm bath, leave the door open, and wait for you in the bedroom.” He smiles and brings the clothes to the bathroom.

The water comes out loud from the tap and fills the bathtub as you walk carefully towards Tendou. “Why are you being so nice to me?” You want to know from him. “I have no reason to be mean to you.” You hear his voice and how he checks with his finger if the water temperature is good. “The water’s good, so clean up and put your clothes in the hamper over there, the maid will take the laundry and clean it so you can get it back. I’ll wait outside.” 

As he said, he leaves the bathroom door open but doesn’t look your way. Thoughtfully you look at the lingerie and after a few moments get out of your wet, musty clothes to get into the warm water. The warm water kisses your body, your eyes get heavier and before you know it, you close your eyes and listen to the sparkling foam.

Uncomfortable you go into the bedroom, even if you find yourself beautiful in this lingerie and it fits surprisingly well as if it was made for you. But knowing that another man sees you as your beloved husband makes you want to throw up.

“If you get hungry, knock on the door. If Wakatoshi is not in your room, I’ll be in front of it. Water is next to your bed. Well, I’ll see you then.” Without even looking in your direction, Tendou says goodbye to you and leaves you alone in the room.

Shortly after you hear the door closing, you look around hastily to see if you have a chance to escape in this windowless room. Next to the bathroom door and the front door, there’s another door that leads to a room you don’t know. But of course, this door is locked, so you are looking for an item that may help you escape. Even here, in vain.

Crying, you crawl into a corner and slump on the floor, knees tightly pulled to your chest. Why didn’t Oikawa ever tell you anything? Why didn’t he trust you? Could it be that this man was right and you weren’t enough for Oikawa? No, it can’t be!

You don’t know how much time has passed since only this ceiling light illuminates the room. But the clicking of the door makes you twitch. Tired, you lift your head and see blurred, how a large, strong person enters the room. Ushijima Wakatoshi.

He sits down in front of you, looking into your swollen face as he presses a cold metallic object against your chin and makes you look into his eyes. “Ah, ah baby girl, look what you’ve done with your pretty face. It’s all swollen up.” Full of fear but also hate you look him in his dark olive eyes. He’s a handsome man, yet you hate him for taking you away from your husband.

“You don’t have to look at me like that. It’s your husband’s fault you’re here now, not with him. But don’t worry, you’ll soon think of other things than your husband. The bed, lie on it!” He commands bossy, and quickly straightened up.

But you just shake your head. “Don’t be silly, baby girl.” His deep voice enters your ears, and even before you can open your mouth, you feel the chilly opening of his weapon lying on your temple.

Instinctively, your eyes fill with new tears running warmly down your cheeks, and your body moves against your will to crawl on the bed. “Please, I didn’t do anything.” You beg him because you just want to get out of here.

But he gives you no answer, just looks at you with his indifferent look, the gun in his hand at all times, while he gradually lets his clothes slide to the ground. Freed from his clothes, he stands before you, a few scars drawing his perfect muscular skin.

Even though you’ve been crying all the time, your eyes only burn more when you see how huge his member is, which still hangs flaccidly between his legs. It’s not even erect, yet you know it would never fit into you without hurting you.

Sobbing, you look from this massive thing between his legs up into his eyes that send out anything but warmth and ask him to let you go. “Stop talking so much. Use your sweet mouth and suck on my cock just like it should be for a good baby girl. Show your daddy that you’re worth treating you well.” 

His words make your stomach twist, you get unwell as you look at him in disgust. But it was stupid of you to think that you could defend yourself against such a tall, strong man. Because just as you’re trying to shake your head, you feel his cold hand burying itself in your hair and pulling you roughly forward, the other hand with the gun to your temple.

“Suck it!” His patience has disappeared when he angrily gives you this command, presses his limb literally into your whiny face. Afraid to hear the trigger go off, you open your mouth and start to put his cock in your trembling mouth.

You just have the tip in, when you realize that it is much too big for you so that you’re about to throw up. Fearing for your life, you still try to stick it in, but quickly realize that you are beginning to choke and fresh tears appear in the corners of your eyes. 

“Oh? Does your beloved Oikawa have such a tiny cock or why would you have problems with gagging after not even half of my dick?” His words are accompanied by a deep, barely audible laughter as he plunges his limb into your mouth with a jerk and makes you open your eyes full of pain and shock.

Reflexively, you support your hands against his thighs and try to prevent him from pushing his dick even deeper into your throat. His hand buried in your hair moves your head back and forth.

The only sound you hear is your sniffing, your swallowing, and the increasingly audible groan of Ushijima, whose cock grows painfully fast in your mouth and makes you gag every time its tip kisses your palate.

“Your mouth does it so well, it takes my length so well. Let’s see if you can absorb and swallow daddy’s sperm as good.” He mutters one last time before he presses his limb full strength into your throat and colors it white.

Next to his dick, which still twitches in your throat, you feel the warm sperm, running thickly down your inside. Just when he hears you swallow his cum, he pulls his cock out of you and takes his hand off the back of your head.

Only a mixture of sperm and saliva binds you together before this thread tears and sticks to your chin. You look so cute, lying on the bed in his favorite lingerie, adorned with his cum, and looking at him like a lost puppy. 

But this wonderful view does not remain for long, because you turn around against his command and want to crawl away from him.

You want to get away from the man who used you as a toy for his desires. You feel disgusting, used. But again, you have to admit to yourself that you’re stupid, for just following your will.

Suddenly you feel an arm wrap around your waist and jerk you backward. As if you are smashed against a wall, your body lands on Ushijima’s chest. “Where are you going huh?” His husky voice is dangerously close to your ear as you feel his hand crawling under the silk coat and caressing the outline of your body.

“Oh? You don’t think that satisfies me, do you? Oikawa has a lot of debts. You’re husband and wife, so it’s your debt too. So if he can’t pay the debt, I guess you’ll have to take them over.” He adds indifferently as he pins you down on the bed, his chest still on your back so that you are prevented from fleeing. “Please, I don’t want to, I’m scared.” You sniff under him and keep squeezing your legs together, afraid of what’s about to happen to you.

“Don’t be scared, baby girl. I’ll make it fit.” It’s not just the gun you feel cold on your spine. No, you also feel Ushijima’s stiff cock on your back, as it painfully reminds you that everything that happens now will be unpleasant.

You just hated Oikawa for not telling you about the debt and getting you into this situation, even though you still love him. But how could he do this to you? Just leave you to a mob boss who will do what he wants with you or shoot you if you don’t obey him.

You feel his legs on your inner thighs and how they spread them with force, so that Ushijima can get better access to your most sensitive body part. With pleasure, he licks his lips as he begins to knead your ass and slowly work his way up to your walls.

“No, please…” You whine when you feel his fingers on your skin as they try to break up your walls to get into your entrance. Calmly, he savors your soft skin as he goes up and down, exerting pressure on your clit to then get back to your entrance to check if you are getting wet by now.

But to his dismay, you’re not. You try to prevent your body from feeling good, which is not difficult for you, as you are forced to do so, and besides this man is not someone you love. “How unsatisfying.” He just hisses displeased, takes his hand off you, and lifts his chest slightly, so that you take the opportunity to tear yourself away from him and crawl away.

In vain, because aggressively he pins you back on the bed now fully in rage, and constricts the air to breathe away, from behind. It’s almost as if he knows exactly when your lungs are starting to hurt and your vision becomes unclear when he reduces the pressure on your neck and after a few seconds his big hand loops around your tender neck like a snake. 

“Now I’ve had enough of you! I’ve told you I’m good to you as long as you follow my orders but apparently I have to show you where your place is!” He calls to you angry and presses with force his rock hard, massive cock into your dry entrance.

“Ahhh stop!” You scream in pain as you feel this thing aggressively getting in and making everything in you pound. Everything in you burns, contracts, pulsates, and hurts extremely. You have the feeling that he tears your womb into pieces and senses an unpleasant wet feeling spreading between your legs.

You know it’s not your juices, rather your blood, which promotes Ushijimas movements and helps him to penetrate deeper and more aggressively.

"Look what we did to you, if you’d listened to me, this would have been different.” You hear his strained voice behind you, as it makes you understand that here you are nothing but just a toy for him, which should obey him.

And you have to admit that if you want to get out of here alive with no pain, no visible wounds, you have to do what he tells you to do. Crying, you admit that your body is being used by a man other than your husband.

“You do it well, don’t fight back baby girl.” He praises you as his movements get sloppy and he pulls his cock out of you to spread his warm cum on your back. He proudly looks at his masterpiece before he takes a handkerchief from the nightstand and cleans himself.

Relief draws your face. While all of this seems to be over for today, even if everything in your body continues to hurt. Yet you remain anxiously lying down, as you do not dare to move and be used again by him.

But to your astonishment, you feel incredibly soft, warm lips on your shoulder blade lingering lovingly for a moment before they let go of you just to then caress your arm afterward. “You know, it doesn’t have to be like this if you don’t fight back.”, “Leave me alone!” Your voice is dull under the blanket.

“Well… until then Y/n.” One last time you feel his warm lips on your arm, as only a few seconds later you hear the door closing. Irritated, you turn around, only to find out that Ushijima is no longer there.

Deep breathing, straightening up, you pull your legs closer to your upper body and bury your head inside them.

“You know, Wakatoshi is actually a very great man.” All of a sudden you hear a voice that strangely gives you a sense of security, followed by a soft, slightly damp towel that gently moves over your back. 

With your eyes still slightly closed, you look aside to find Tendou looking at you with a wide smile and cleaning your body without even looking at your most feminine parts.

“You should be grateful he found something in you. Normally, he would take pieces of body parts from you. First a strand of hair, a finger, your tongue… Something every day until Oikawa pays his debts. But you seem to be an exception here. So don’t blame him for your husband getting you into this.” Even though his words are anything but reassuring, it is his look and tenderness with which he helps you get up into the bathroom.

"Do you understand how good he is? He lets you sleep here in a great room instead of locking you down in the dark basement. So be a good girl and listen to your new friend Tendou." He whispers in your ear with a slim grin, just before he leaves the room.

Still shaking, you let the warm water splash over your body, trying somehow to wash yourself clean and think about Tendou’s words. Somehow he is right, after all, it’s not Ushijimas fault. Oikawa is the one who lied to you, not him. Still, he didn’t treat you very kindly.

Completely torn back and forth, you go back to the bedroom, where Tendou has already re-made the bed and waits for you with a drink. “What is this, Tendou?” You ask him confused while he reaches out to you.

“Just a tea, that makes you sleep well.” He smiles and waits for you to drink the delicious-tasting tea. “Lie down, I’ll see you tomorrow.” With these words, he says goodbye and leaves you alone in the room.

You notice how your eyes get heavier, your thoughts blurred and how you suddenly collapse on the bed and fall asleep.

The next few weeks are just like your first day here. You don’t know if Ushijima enters the room every day to sleep with you or if he does it several times a day or just every few days because you don’t have a sense of time anymore.

No matter how many times you have to think of Tendou’s words, in the end, you try to defend yourself, and again everything hurts in retrospect. However, you hate your husband every day more for what he did to you and therefore feel increasingly connected to Ushijima.

It’s probably also Tendou’s words that subconsciously manipulate you. How precious you are to Ushijima. That everyone can see it and you will see and understand it as well when you finally give yourself to him.

Forget your scheming husband, who abandoned you. 'Cause, only Ushijima would be the man to please and protect you. 

Yes, it was Tendous words… Because the last time Ushijima sleeps with you, you notice how your body builds up less resistance. Ushijima knows it won’t take long before he owns you until you belong to him and not Oikawa.

Today you wear his favorite lingerie, the one in which he likes you in so much, in which he looks at you hungrily.

You’re just waiting for Ushijima to enter the room and do what he usually does to you. And when he finally enters the room, undressing wordlessly, as you go straight to your knees without resistance to take his cock in your mouth, he knows exactly that he has broken your will.

A barely visible grin draws the corner of his mouth before he approaches you and looks down into your eyes from above. “Get up. Not today.” Are the only words that come out of him while you look at him puzzled when he pulls you up by your hair. “Come with me.” He adds and points to the door, where you have asked yourself until now where this leads only to find out that this guides exactly to his bedroom.

A huge room with ground-level windows that provide a view of the snow-covered forest and a frozen river illuminate the room in an almost romantic atmosphere. It looks like the sun is about to set because the darkness is slowly coming out.

In the room is expensive furniture, a huge king-size bed, with gray-golden silk sheets. It looks so incredibly soft and the rest of the room just leaves you amazed, standing on a spot, until you feel a hand on your back moving you towards the bed.

You can feel his cold fingertips skilfully opening your bra and sliding down to the floor along your body, followed by your panties kissing the floor just seconds later. With a push, he shoves you onto his bed, which catches your body with ease and looks at you with fiery eyes.

“What do you think? Do we need it today?” His lust-filled voice resounds as he holds his cold weapon against your nipple and stares at you as he slowly strolls down to your entrance with the weapon and lingers there.

A feeling that you previously only knew at Oikawa, spreads within you. You sense the area between your legs getting wet from the cold metal, from Ushijima’s look when you pinch them together and a shudder runs along your spine.

With glowing cheeks you playfully bite your lower lip and shake your head embarrassed, your eyes focused on Ushijima’s. You don’t miss his quiet laughter when he looks into your beautiful, scattered face and knows exactly that you squeeze your legs together because you are only excited by the touch of his weapon.

That’s exactly what he wants to see, his baby girl begging for him and his cock, which only wants him and no one else. Not even her beloved husband Oikawa. Without you having to touch his cock, it grows along with the thought of making you his woman.

He would have liked to see Oikawa’s face when his beloved wife knelt for his rival without resistance, only to suck on his cock and milk him. But it is even better to know that you got involved with Ushijima, that you understand that you are his and he can take care of you much better than Oikawa.

He proudly puts the gun on his nightstand and pulls you by your legs to the edge of the bed to suck fervently on the inside of your thighs, to kiss them, and to work himself down to your entrance. 

His touches are like a drug for you, you can’t and won’t get enough of them. From these kisses that tell you he’s proud to have you. When you feel his breath on your wet walls, you shrug briefly and tilt your pelvis down. “Ushijima, that feels so good.” You moan softly and tilt your head backward as you startle with a slap on your sensitive walls.

“Ah, ah… Are you trying to be naughty again? Have you forgotten what to call me?” He hisses in a husky voice as his olive eyes come up between your legs and stare at you. “D- Daddy… Sorry, daddy…” you correct yourself and wait for the praise of Ushijima. “That’s my good baby girl.” He answers you with a grin and turns back to your walls.

His eyes are on your face as he circles his fingers around your entrance, slowly enveloping them with your juice, and watching you groan with the feeling of having his index and ring finger in you, the thumb on your clit to give you a benevolent feeling there as well.

“Daddy you’re so good to me!” You groan as you feel his fingers explore your walls and bend to meet exactly the right spot. How your cheeks gain even more warmth, your nipples become stiff and your body moves willingly, drives him crazy.

He still moves his fingers in you before he replaces his thumb with his lips and sucks on your clit, licks over it, blows against it, and starts sucking it again. “Come for me baby girl.” His voice vibrates on your skin as you feel the knot loosen inside you, your legs start to shake while squeezing his head, and your eyes roll backward. “Damn it, daddy I’m coming.” You groan as you push your pelvis further to Ushijima and cover his lips with your juice.

Without changing his expressions, he licks your delicious juice off your lips and pulls his fingers out of you just to leave a bitter void in you. He carefully inspects his fingers, which shine in the yellowish light of the lamp, and looks down at you as you lie out of breath with an open mouth in front of him, legs still shaking, beautiful for him to look at. 

“Suck on them, clean them up! Do what your daddy tells you to do.” You can feel his deep voice on your neck and how he puts his fingers in your mouth. Reflexively, you seek contact with his eyes as you begin to wrap your tongue around his fingers and suck loudly at them.

His gaze is razor-sharp as his olive-colored eyes look at you and enjoy the sight. “Tell me, baby girl, do you want my cock in you? Do you deserve it?” He wants to know from you while his fingers leave your mouth with a loud plop.

"Yes daddy, please give me your cock!" You’re begging him. This desire to absorb his length fully in you is so huge. Which only makes Ushijima happier, and makes him enter inside you piece by piece. 

Unlike the weeks before, he is so careful and gentle, making sure you don’t have any pain. "Nnngh…" You groan as you feel every vein of its length painfully spreading your inner walls. But the pain is different than usual, it is pleasant in an odd way. 

"Are you in pain baby girl? Shall I stop?" he asks rhetorically because he knows you don’t want him to leave a void in you again. 

"No, please! I want to feel your whole dick in my cunt daddy!" You say weeping and reach for his upper arms to stop him from going away from you.

Lovingly his arms wrap around your waist and pull you up so that he can get your delicate body just with one arm, holding you in the air, while his cock enters deeper into you. 

A prick spreads in your abdomen while you pinch your eyes together and bite your lip. "Nngh daddy your dick is too big…", "Oh? Too big for my pretty baby girl huh?" Interrupts his deep voice, just before he lays you gently on the bed and then squats in front of your entrance.

He gently caresses your legs before he spreads them with a little pressure, lifts them with his hands at your ankles, and presses his body against them to enter you with a loud murmur. 

Through this new angle, and by opening your legs so wide, his cock can enter you much more easily. He needs a few thrusts until his dick is wrapped in your juice and smoothly kisses your inner walls. 

With slim eyes he watches you as your breasts move up and down, his limb sinks into your sweet pussy, you lay awkwardly under him, not knowing where to put your body and the lustful feelings that want to get out of you. A sight that satisfies him incredibly and makes his member twitch in you. "Look, you are such a beautiful baby girl for me."

Even if you think it’s great that Ushijima praises you so much and gently touches your body, you want him to get rough and aggressive again. Because strangely enough, you have to admit that you find his rough nature as attractive and masculine and how he controls you.

"Ahh I want everything from you, show me you’re my strong daddy." You whine while tilting your head backward. "Oh? You want me to be rough with you? Well…" You hear his astonished deep voice as he begins to enter you faster and deeper.

"Nnngh so good, so good." You groan loudly at his sloppy, more aggressive thrusts, and feel his balls clap against your skin at every thrust. 

"Tell me how good it feels to have my dick inside of you Y/n." his husky voice sounds through the room, accompanied by the damp sound of your skin coming together. 

"So good daddy! Your massive cock feels so good in me, there’s no one who can fill me as perfectly as you!" You purr and push your pelvis deeper into the duvet to feel his limb even better in you.

With each powerful thrust, he hits just the right spot in you that takes you to the edge of your climax. 

"I wonder what he'd do if he knew you were with me right now." With a lustful look, he faces you while these words leave his mouth.

For a moment your eyes widen in panic because you have completely forgotten your husband. But what kind of husband is he, if he leaves you alone for weeks. 

"Tell me, baby girl, what would you do if he knew that you were with me and so willingly give yourself into me? Admitting that only I can really satisfy your needs, huh?" Hungry, his hand wanders from your ankle down to your neck and presses it lightly.

His big hand adorns your neck so beautifully. This feeling of power that is spreading within him, leads him to distribute his load within you soon. “I… don’t know…” You answer him, torn back and forth, since you would never want to see how broken and hurt Oikawa would be if he saw you with another man. But on the other hand, he abandoned you, lied to you, and Ushijima was the one who cared for you and didn’t kill you for the debts Oikawa has on him.

“I don’t think Oikawa would be so happy to see us here, huh? The way you so wonderfully wrap and squeeze around my cock. That feels so good baby girl. So tell me, who makes you happy? Who can make you orgasm?” He wants to know while he’s fucking your brains out.

You don’t know what to say anymore, you just know that your whole body is burning with lust, that this knot that has newly formed is tightening up harder as you know exactly that you will come any moment.

“Who, give me the name that makes you happy! I won’t let you come before you answer me.” Demands Ushijima, when even before he can finish his sentence you call his name. “Ushijima!”, “The whole name!” he orders again while slapping your breast, and again his name comes out under your trembling voice. “Ushijima Wakatoshi!” you cry out. 

“My name sounds so wonderful when you say it so needy. I’m going to shoot my cum so deep into your womb that you’re carrying my fucking kid Y/n Oikawa, or should I call you Y/n Ushijima from now on?” His voice is also getting throaty as his movements get harder so that you can’t hold back your voice any longer. 

Your walls contract and the knot in you, just like your mouth loosens and makes you roll your eyes backward in an incredibly benevolent desire.“Haaah Ushijima! I’m coming!” 

“Come for your daddy baby girl!” He growls almost animalistic as he accelerates his movements and presses his thick sperm into you with a loud moan. Out of breath, he collapses on you, his cock still twitches in you and remains there, so that his sperm stays in you.

Sweat drips down his temple, his skin sticks to yours, as you feel his breath loud and restless in the crook of your neck. The room, which had smelled so fresh earlier, now smells of sweat and sperm.

You feel so good with his warm body on top of you, his soft hair tickling your neck, and the loving kisses he spreads on your body while leaving little hickeys, to mark you as his.

But what you don’t notice is that Tendou, Semi, and especially Oikawa are standing in the door frame. Broken, his face dressed in tears he looks at you. His mouth glued with tape he tries to pull himself out of the clutches of the two men holding him. To get to you, to his most beloved precious wife, to tear you away from this monster. In vain.

But unlike you, Ushijima knew that Oikawa had been standing in the door for several minutes and watched him fuck his beloved woman. Taking the most important thing in his life will pay off any debt he owes. Having such a beautiful woman by his side is better than any money he can get.

“Get him down to the basement... and take the ring off of him. Because there’s no husband and wife Oikawa anymore. Y/n belongs to me… You’ll be a Ushijima soon.” His cold voice lies in the air as he reaches for your hand, pulls off the ring, and kisses you on the now-empty ring spot, his olive-colored eyes fixed on yours the whole time.

For a moment, you think you need to cry now that you know Oikawa’s heart has been shattered into thousands of pieces. However, these tears do not come. Without even looking at him, Oikawa is taken away by the men. 

Lost in your thoughts, you rub your thumb over the empty ring spot. But even before you can think about anything, Ushijima’s fingers make sure that you look him directly into the suddenly so warm eyes. 

“Y/n… You don’t have to be afraid anymore. No one will touch or hurt you, I’ll make sure of it. You belong with me now, my pretty baby girl.” His last words are so quiet that you can hardly understand them before he bends forward to give you a warm kiss that is full of love and passion, for the first time. “My pretty girl.” 

You don’t know if you would feel guilty if you looked Oikawa in the eye, or hate, or even feel nothing. But you know one thing…

You’re not Y/n Oikawa anymore.

[positivityforlesbians]

Sapphic underground made a YouTube post about the pressure put on lesbians to be "inclusive" of males and opposite sex attracted people and the toll it's been taking in our community, and to my great surprise, the majority of the comments on that post are supportive! There's even bi and straight women and gay men showing some love. It's just so nice to see actual lesbian expressing their mind and not getting immediately silenced 🥰

Wow, so I've looked it up and I think you refer to this comment, there is indeed a lot of likes under it !

I am a total fan of Sapphic Underground's channel, I posted one of her videos not as far as a few days ago but I cannot say I thought she would ever address this huge problem targetting our community. This goes to to show we are not making this up, being lesbians that would somehow invent a problem that so many people pretend is not there. I don't think she's super known on the internet, especially by those 2.0 lesbophobes who, let's be honest, generally really don't care about actual lesbian content despite trying their best to be like us, but they still can try to bully her out of her platform the second they all collectively find her to be a bad woman. It wouldn't be the first time. So because of that I think it's important to support her, that comment is brave. I'm glad she got so many likes there, I'm sure it was a positive sign for her to see we are a lot to think just like this and that she did well in speaking up. 👏

We cannot let non-lesbians dicktate to us what our words mean, what makes a lesbian a lesbian, how bigoted we are for not liking penises, how we are doing the worst of the worst for having this sexual orientation (being a lesbian, also known as being a homosexual girl/woman), how we should have our dating apps and in real life lesbian only spaces open to trans women (therefore males, a sex we will never be into) and thus ruining said spaces because even the kindest most gullible lesbians will get tired at some point and leave, seeing the most basic men use that as an excuse to also come in and make these spaces even more unsafe/ simply not lesbian spaces anymore, all of this is something we cannot ignore and so it makes sense she is talking about it. Being a lesbian Youtuber and video artist who focuses on making fun upbeat or poetic lesbian content doesn't make her blind to the modern western lesbian experience, this is pretty good to know ! So thank you for that message anon, more of the followers of this blog may open their eyes to this reality, since it's silenced, made invisible and gaslighted so often.

Why isn't lesbophobia taken any seriously while transphobia is nearly always considered with upper seriousness in lgbt spaces at large ? is the question we should all ask ourselves. It's not treason to think about it, to ask questions, to choose to prioritise our community, lesbians, after realising how much we've been made to suffocate and feel like second class citizens among people supposed to support and uplift us, not the other way round. More and more lesbians will speak out, because the anger keeps growing and nobody can successfully silence us, even if it cost us a platform, popularity, money, anything, we also have things to gain when finally speaking out. Defending lesbians, our reality, our history, our community, will always be a priority. ✨

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

So how would the Horrortale Brothers, Nightmare, Dune and Error be with a S/O that has severe haphephobia. Even worse than Errors. It usually takes them between 5 to 10 years of knowing someone to even be able to give a simple quick handshake. But once they are comfortable, after many years the are actually very cuddly, because they are touch starved. Would they even stay that long with them? And how would they react to all that cuddly affection that suddenly starts after all those years? Most of my friends were confused when I huged them for the first time. Longest it took me to get comfortable with someone were 15 years so far.

I don't have Nightmare (yet, but it's a work in progress), sorry !

Horrortale Sans - He probably would have give up after these many years xD Oak needs to touch his S/O, it's one of the many way he has to comfort himself and his insecurities, and also to know he's not Underground anymore when he has nightmares. He's probably not the guy for you.

Horrortale Papyrus - It would take some adjustements, but Willow is good at respecting boundaries, and he would be pretty good at this. Once you reveal your true self though, he'll be very surprised at first, and will obviously really like that change of heart. He's happy you feel comfortable around him, it kinda means a lot to him since he has very low confidence since he got out of the Underground.

Error - Obviously, he's really fine with it. He actually never thought humans could be like him and it opens his world a little. When you start touching him, he will be a bit shocked at firt, but will strangely be ok with it, especially if he knows you for ten years. He knows by now you won't hurt him and so he is fine with one hug from time to time. Though don't ask him to suddenly be a rainbow fluffy kitten, he will never be one. Still needs space.

Dustale Sans - He absolutely doesn't care. Dune is adapting to his S/O. If you say no touching, he doesn't touch, and if you say "ok now you can touch", he will touch. Dune thinks he doesn't deserve you, so show him you trust him is a big step in your relationship, especially after everything he did. He is just happy you're still thinking he is good and not entirely insane after all these years. It means a lot.

[chazukekani]

Previous // Next

Summary for Code:03 is here! I hope you guys will enjoy (spoilers, not really!)

Recap: Murase-officer was killed by Verlaine, so Chuuya and Adam were going to find out why he had become Verlaine's target.

From the blue mobile phone acquired from Murase-officer's pocket, Adam believed that the phone was not the original but got replaced by someone, and hence Adam inferred that Verlaine was the one who did this in order to wiretap his call, and Adam was able to get the recording of the final call on Murase-officer's phone.

'It's me, brother,' that's the voice of Murase-officer.

'The gravity guy is here, just like what you said. Wait! There is one more person! Who is this? What's his relationship with Chuuya! Call me when you hear this!" and that's the end of the call.

This recording took place shortly after Verlaine invaded the police station.

'That's very interesting,' Adam was sure about something, 'With reference to my record, his brother was supposed to be dead already.'

Murase-officer's brother, was dead in April 14 years ago. He died in an accident while conducting an experiment. His name was not on the official record, nor there was any photograph of his appearance, so let's call him N for now.

'Officer-san's brother, participated in the research of Arahabaki?' Chuuya said.

The creator of Arahabaki...? Adam could not handle such surprise in his mind. The trio (Chuuya, Adam and Shirase) continue to deduce the hints they have. They supposed N was probably the only survivor as all scientists were dead during one explosion of the experiment. Now they know, Verlaine's next target was N because he was the only one left who knew the secrets behind Chuuya. Henceforth, they have to find N now.

'Hey, you...' Shirase looked at Adam with a terrified face as if seeing a ghost. Adam was confused, but the next second he realised, that was Adam himself talking.

'I am the one who needs your help,' Adam's mouth moved, 'Adversely, you need my help too. I am the one whom you called N.' The man who called N hacked into Adam and delivered this message.

'I can no longer speak to you in such a way, come here, I want to meet you. I will leave the address in this machine.'

'Hey, wait. Meet us? What do you know?' said Chuuya

'Everything, Chuuya. Everything about you.' that voice spoke as if a god with a very calm voice, 'I am looking forward to meet you,' and the connection was lost.

-

They have arrived at their destination. It was a huge and broad place underground, as big as a tennis court, and there were firewalls built  in the surrounding with guards guarding the front gate. Chuuya, Adam and Shirase were stopped by the guards and demanded to do a blood check before they could proceed for security purposes, but of course, Adam was spared from it.

After finishing the check, they finally saw N. That person that stood in front of them, was exactly the one who stood next to Chuuya in the picture that the Flags gave him.

'I am the director of the Arahabaki Project. The military named me as N because this is the initial of Nakahara.'

'I am your father.'

-

'What do you think ability is?' The group were in a corridor of the facility.

'We, researchers, frankly speaking, don't really know what ability is. How embarrassing,' N proceeded.

But there were few things that were confirmed. Other forms of life apart from humans, such as animals or plants, are not able to possess ability. Also, when the human dies, the ability that he has will together vanish from this world. Every ability has a maximum of output of power, and the military wanted to know so badly how we could break the limits. Yes, there is a way to break the limit, and that's called ability singularity. This is a phenomenon that occurred as a result of two or more contradicting abilities interfering with each other. Which means usually it requires at least two ability users to create such a phenomenon.

However, there is one type of ability user that is able to create an ability singularity on his own. They are able to do so because their ability itself consists of theoretical contradiction. The first person who discovered this was a German scientist, and he named this type of ability 'self-contradicting ability'. To be precise, this ability allows the user to amplify the output of their own ability. Since the user can continue amplifying the power of their own ability, it gives them an unlimited source of power, which breaks through the limit of ability. However, this user also needs to take the risk because once they are granted infinite power, the high density of the energy will create a distortion in space and collapse it into a gravity vortex, and can never go back.

There was an intense competition between Germany, France and Britain on investigating this subject. Since Japan was the ally of Germany, Japan also acquired various techniques and reports regarding this topic. Since most of the countries were running out of resources by the end of the war, they were eager to take theories into practice, and the most advanced country on this topic was France. They successfully weaponised ability singularity, and they found out that the most effective way to control it was heart, in other words, the human's soul. Yet with such huge energy, it was afraid that ordinary humans were not capable to manage it, but ironically, only humans are capable of possessing ability. Therefore, the French scientists came up with a solution, and that is to create a homunculus with a soul, and that’s how Paul Verlaine came. Years later, the Japanese government also obtained the related information and hence proceeded to conduct a similar experiment, which later what was known as the Arahabaki Project.

-

N wanted to show Chuuya something, but it was considered top secret. So he asked Adam and Shirase to wait while he and Chuuya would go somewhere else.

While going to another room, Chuuya told N that he recognised this place. However, N told him that it was just the No.2 Laboratory which had the same design as No.1 Laboratory, and it was destroyed during the Arahabaki Project. So what Chuuya remembered was actually the environment of the No.1 Lab. Meanwhile, Chuuya recalled some of his memories in this facility. He recalled that he had been staying in darkness for a long time. Yet, he heard 'Invaders!' 'Lock area 8 and 15!' one day. He used to be inside a cradle and locked from the outside world. But that day, someone broke the cradle and a hand touched Chuuya. That's Rimbaud's hand, and next to him was Verlaine.

'You are a miracle, Chuuya,' said N.

N showed something to Chuuya, and that's a cylinder which has a size similar to Chuuya. The container was transparent, and it had some blue and black liquid kept inside it so it was quite difficult to see through.

'Who is inside!' Chuuya yelled, but N didn't say a word.

N pressed a button via a remote in his pocket, and the liquid began to drain, and Chuuya was shocked to see what appeared in front of him.

What inside the cylinder, was Chuuya.

The Chuuya inside the container had his eyes closed, and quite thin. His leg was locked by two chains respectively that linked to the bottom of the cylinder.

'May I introduce, your original,' said N.

Chuuya's jaw dropped.

Suddenly, the teen inside the cylinder was in pain, and could not breathe. He cough badly and almost had his organs cough out.

'Hey! Are you alright!' Chuuya yelled.

'No way he would be alright,' said N, 'he had his living-saving fetal aqueous solution drained after all.

Chuuya grabbed the controller from N and pressed all the buttons on it, but nothing happened. Shortly after, that teen died, and his body including his skin, flesh melted together into a blue-black liquid.

All of a sudden, Chuuya felt dizzy and fell down.

'I designed you, so I know you the best. No matter how strong you are, you are incompatible with poison,' said N. Chuuya realised that poison was injected during the blood check. He was furious and tried to punch N. Yet, a bullet hit Chuuya's forehead, and he lost his consciousness immediately.

-

On the other hand, likewise, Shirase also felt dizzy. Adam noticed Chuuya might be in trouble as well. After keeping Shirase in a safe placed, he proceed to search for Chuuya.

-

In a room of nothing, Chuuya's upper clothing was deprived, and he was bleeding. The most serious injury he had was on his chest. His hands were locked up by chains that connected to the ceiling, and electricity went through his body via this chain. Under the order of N, Chuuya was injected with midazolam, and continued being tortured.

N revealed that Chuuya was the only experimental product in the country that consisted of a safety measure - in order to activate his full ability, a spell was needed. Once Chuuya said the spell, his personality will be erased and overridden. Such that Chuuya would be free from pain and darkness. And the spell was-

'O grantors of dark disgrace, do not wake me again! I will endure my solitude, arms seemingly already useless,' N said the spells.

'O grantors of dark disgrace, do not wake me again...' Chuuya repeated after N as if an automatic robot. This was the result of the midazolam.

'Very well,' N smiled

'I will...WHO ARE YOU?' Chuuya yelled.

'Raise the power,' N ordered the assistant to give Chuuya another electric shock, and Chuuya screamed.

-

Chuuya was not in a stable state of mind. He saw different kinds of illusion. He saw Dazai, Piano Man, Albatross, Ice Man, Lippmann and Doc, and the members of sheep. He was blamed by such an illusion, and his value of existence was denied.

The last person who showed up was Verlaine.

'I will kill this researcher,' said Verlaine in Chuuya's illusion. He gave his hand out to Chuuya and said, 'come here,'

'Why...' said Chuuya

'Didn't I tell you when we first met? I am here to save you,' Verlaine replied, 'Go, my brother. Kill N and take your soul back from this crazy world.'

-

Adam was dealing with the soldiers that were attacking him. At once, a teenager showed up in front of Adam, and he's Dazai.

'Nice to meet you Mr Inspector,' Dazai greeted, and he continued, ' "Why are you here?" I believe that's what you wanna ask me. I will tell you. That's a stage of the plan. "What's the plan?" you may ask, and I will tell you, everything.'

Dazai explained that the documents that he gave to Verlaine was the information about Murase-officer, N, and everything else. The purpose behind this was to save time, because Verlaine's initial first target was Mori. Hence, by manipulating the information, Dazai can squeeze out extra time and assassinate Verlaine back.

'According to the plan, Chuuya will kill N, and will not be a human anymore. However  I want to see Chuuya as a human, so I am here to stop him,' said Dazai.

-

A fight broke out in the laboratory where Chuuya was staying, and other people were evacuated from the facility.

Chuuya had immense hatred towards N.

'W...wait! I can't help with it! It's all work! I never ever once wanted you to suffer on my own!' N cried and tried to escape from Chuuya.

'Don't listen to him Chuuya,' Verlaine showed up in the entrance.

Chuuya was holding a chain on his hand tightly, and threw it out with the speed of sound and stabbed the target: Verlaine's chest.

'W...what?'

'Didn't see that coming right, Verlaine. It's true that the researcher is harsh, but you killed Piano Man and the others after all,' Chuuya said, and the 'brothers' had a fight.

There was a mass explosion everywhere inside the room. The punches were able to create tiny suns and the gravity made the room collapse.

Amid the fight, N, who was injured nearby, yelled to Verlaine, 'If I died, you would never know your secret!'

' I am not joking, everything. Including the one you wanna know most - the Secret of the Gentle Forest,'

'How do you know this!' Verlaine shouted.

But there was no spare time for them, All of a sudden, a skeleton appeared. That's Chuuya's original, and that's what the body left after dying and melting in Chuuya's arm just now. It was connected with the tube and wearing a coat. The skeleton was under the control of N and launched attacks towards Chuuya, and he couldn't move

Shirase, who woke up and found Chuuya, surprisingly appeared and saved Chuuya by plugging out the tube from the skeleton. A while after, Adam and Dazai also found where Chuuya was. The battle was paused.

All of a sudden, the light in the room was turned off, but turned back on a few seconds afterwards. Yet, Verlaine and N were gone, and the ceilings of consecutive multiple floors above were gone as well.

Code 3 ended

[shofics]

So tumblr ate the ask (thanks! I hate it!) but @knifemartin sent the prompt 13. pirate au but make it... sky pirates with Earhart, Zolf, Sasha, and Wilde! This got frighteningly long so I had to put it under a cut, I hope you enjoy my ramblings. <3 They’re going to kill a dragon!!

I think I genuinely might clean this up and make it into a proper fic. Watch this space. 

Zolf Smith is a miner. Zolf Smith dreams of the sky. Zolf Smith kills his brother. Zolf Smith takes flight.  

The Meritocracy doesn't have air forces- don’t really need ‘em when you’re a huge fuck-off dragon who can fly- but they’re worried about the increased presence the separatists are having in the skies above their lands, so they’re building one. Zolf leaps upon it like a life raft.

When the ship goes down, there are two reasons he doesn’t die; his past, and his god.

The Reliant answers the emergency call, and that surprises Zolf- a known separatist vessel, making an attempt to save the crew of a ship in the Meritocratic Air Force- but a lot of things surprise him about Captain Earhart. It’s not the Reliant’s fault that he is the only survivor. It is due to the Reliant that there is an only survivor at all.

His family were Harlequins. Captain Earhart recognises him, visits him in the sick bay as her medics do their best to save his legs, asks after his father, asks after his brother. Gives an understanding nod when he refuses to speak about them. Offers him a job, because he desperately needs one.

It’s a lot all at once, and they can’t save his legs, but he finds he doesn’t need them. Dwarves don’t have the build that most of the Hermes lot have, but he’s never let not fitting in stop him. The feeling of the wind in the rigging is like wings on ankles he doesn’t have anymore. He’s freer than he’s been his entire life.

//

When he is thirteen years old, Brock Rackett successfully makes it out of Other London and out of the clutches of the Rackett clan by chopping off his ring finger and escaping on the first air vessel that will take him. At least, this is what Sasha believes. She’s sad he left without her, but she knows well that when an opportunity comes, you take it. She hopes he made it out safe.

Nine years later, at twenty-two, Sasha’s opportunity finally comes. She heads for the aeroport. Maybe she’ll be able to find him.

Barrett’s men are following her, she can feel them on her tail all through the crowd like a bad smell; she needs a cover, needs somewhere to hide. There’s a drunk in the corner of the bar, some once-foppish-looking dandy, and Sasha decides to make him her cover.

She slides into the seat next to him and tries to be as inconspicuous as possible, but the drunkard starts and leaps to his feet, swaying. “Keep your trousers on,” she hisses, jumping up to pull him back down in front of her- he’s tall enough, he should provide good cover.

The man staggers out of her grip and produces a dagger from nowhere. He tries to fend her off with it- poorly- and then his eyes roll up and he collapses. Sasha just barely manages to catch him before he hits the ground.

//

Wilde knows the Meritocracy is crumbling. He can feel it in the air; something big is coming, something very bad, and he really doesn’t want to be here when it finally arrives.

Though maybe the sense of impending doom he’s getting is just from lack of sleep. But he’s sure that’s fine. It’s fine. He’s fine.

So he puts his bardic talents and his espionage training to work, following the trail of the odd orders and the disappearing agents, and realises quickly that if he stays, he’ll probably end up disappearing as well- or worse, become one of the people giving the odd, conflicting orders. He doesn’t know what that’s about. He doesn’t want to find out.

Wilde fakes his own death in the hopes it will throw off the scent, and decides, like so many others seeking the separatists, to head for the Americas.

In a bar at the aeroport he is accosted by a mugger, and he knew he was being conspicuous, but with everything blurring and the ringing in his ears he’s in no shape to properly defend himself. Instead of killing him, though, the dark figure hauls him up and runs.

He’s not lucid enough to take in the scene of the room she drags him into, and so he doesn’t resist as someone snaps something cold around his wrist, and he at long last sinks into a deep and dreamless sleep.

//

Earhart knew the look of people like Zolf Smith- lost, angry, needing. She’s seen plenty of it, in her years as an airship captain, because there are only a few reasons why people set out for the skies. And so she took him on, and he proved a fantastic first mate, knew his stuff inside and out and indulged her more reckless tendencies.

Plus, he’d been fleeing the Meritocracy. That automatically put him in Earhart’s good books.

Famous (and infamous) Harlequin airship captain Amelia Earhart was, by that point, becoming famous and infamous enough to become a thorn in the Meritocrats’ sides. They decided to target her. The fact that they tried to take down the Reliant was not her fault. The fact that she turned the whole ship around to attack back, causing a wreck that killed almost all of her crew and blew the Reliant into unsalvageable bits… that was.

The only reason she hasn’t drunk herself to death by this point is her ‘fantastic’ first mate (she’s regretting that now, in an angry way), who for some unknowable reason is unwilling to let the guilt swallow her whole.

//

Zolf Smith was an airman. Zolf Smith dreams of gods and wings and roads not taken. Zolf Smith is given a choice. Zolf Smith chooses no.

Zolf Smith loses his magic.

Earhart is trying to die, and he’s doing his best without access to his healing magic, but it won’t work forever, not when she’s this determined to let herself waste into nothing. He’s not good at talking, and that’s what she really needs- someone to talk to. Someone to listen. But he’s got no legs, and he’s got no magic, and he’s got almost no hope left, and nowhere to go.

They take refuge in a seedy bar in the closest aeroport and report the crash; two survivors, him and Earhart. They’ve been there a month and a half when the door to their room bursts open and a terrified kid with dark shaggy hair and an enormous jacket practically falls through the doorway, lugging an unconscious man in a blue and green waistcoat.

For a split second they all just stare at each other- everyone except for the unconscious man, of course, being as he is unconscious (and bleeding, from the nose and from the ears, and Zolf may not have magical healing but he has medical training and he knows that’s bad)- and then the kid drops her charge like a sack of potatoes, slams the door closed, and dives under the bed.

“Are you in trouble?” is all Zolf asks, and the kid nods, petrified and utterly silent. “Fine. Stay there.”

The unconscious man begins to shake and cry out as Zolf manhandles him into his bed, as though having a nightmare. He wakes with a scream, eyes wide and terrified. Someone bangs on the door. “Do you mind?” Zolf yells. “Little busy in here!”

The door bursts open a second time- those poor hinges- and two men of the kind who aren’t holding knives until you look at them from the right angle, and then they definitely are, and they’re pointed right at you, appear in the doorway. They take in the sickroom and the man with the two prosthetic legs, look nonplussed for a second, and then one nudges the other and tells him to “get a move on, she’s in here somewhere,” and they disappear down the hall.

Zolf pulls the door shut behind them and goes back over to the man in the waistcoat. It takes a bit of figuring out, but eventually, in desperation- the man is obviously dying- Zolf fishes out the anti-magical handcuffs issued to him as soldier and medic in the Meritocratic Air Forces, and clips one around his wrist. He goes limp.

He turns around to find the dark haired kid staring at him with eyes as wide as saucers. “Were they lookin’ for you?” he asks, and her eyes narrow.

“Why do you want to know?” she asks defensively- as though they could be looking for anyone else. The kid has ‘runaway’ written all over her.

“‘Cause I’m tryin’ to save your life,” Zolf snaps, and that seems to shock her, “so if you could work with me here, that’d be great, I’ve got enough on my plate tryin’ to save her life-” jerks a thumb to Earhart- “and apparently this one’s as well-” to the now asleep man taking up his bed. “Who are you? Who’s he?”

“I dunno,” says the kid, “he just kind of fell over.”

//

Sasha does not make the decision to trust him then. She doesn’t even tell him her name. She makes the decision to trust him when he tells her, a day later, as they sit against the wall and watch the man in the waistcoat mumble in his sleep, that he used to work on an airship.

“I’m Sasha,” she says. “Can I come with you?”

The white-haired dwarf named Zolf Smith- he looks too young to have white hair, but Sasha knows not to judge from appearances- grimaces. “I mean,” he says. “Dunno why you’d want to.”

“I want to see the sky,” says Sasha, who has spent her entire life underground. Zolf looks at her and seems to see something in her that pains him.

“I dunno where I’m goin’,” he warns her mournfully, looking back at Earhart, who is also sleeping. “But you can come with if you want. ‘S your choice.”

He doesn’t ask Sasha’s surname. She decides to trust him.

//

The name of the man in the bed next to her is Oscar Wilde, and Earhart starts frantically reaching for a gun, any gun, forgetting in her automatic fury that Zolf had taken them all off her weeks ago. A Meritocratic agent-

“Ex-agent,” says Wilde politely. “Please don’t shoot me, Captain, I’ve almost died once this week and I’m not really eager to repeat the experience.”

Earhart feels more lucid than she has in ages as she listens to him describe the strange series of events that brought him there, how sure he is that something is brewing within the Meritocracy’s upper ranks, the disaster that is coming. She can feel Zolf’s eyes on her as all her grief and guilt and despair and boiling anger calcify inside of her.

Wilde is like her, like Zolf, like Sasha- lost, angry, needing.

Wilde has information she can use.

“Mr. Wilde,” Earhart says, her voice hoarse with disuse but filled with more fire than she’s felt since the crash, “you are going to help me kill a dragon.”

//

She didn’t like him at first- he talked down to her, and his posh affectations grated on principle- but Sasha has to admit that Wilde is smart. She stares in disbelieving wonder as he produces a bag of holding full to the brim with more gold pieces than she’s ever seen in her life. His Meritocratic funding, he tells the spellbound group, because he can spellbind even without his magic. He liquified as many assets as he felt he could get away with before leaving.

“Pick a ship,” he says, “any ship. We can buy it. No need to steal.”

“We’ll need elementals,” Earhart says. “At least two.”

Wilde turns to Zolf. “You’re a cleric, aren’t you?” he says. “You can summon elementals.”

“Not anymore,” Zolf bites.

“Why?”

Zolf makes a face. “I don’t- when- okay.” He sighs. “Look-” and casts Spark into the fireplace. He jumps back in shock.

“I… don’t see the problem?” Wilde says after a good minute of silence, looking from the roaring flames back to Zolf. Sasha gets up and goes to dry her hair by the fire; the weather around the ports has been awful lately. Zolf stares into the flames in surprise.

//

Zolf Smith was a cleric. Zolf Smith dreams of a new ship. Zolf Smith finds a team, full of people who need healing, the kind he can now provide. Zolf Smith has hope.

[thotsforvillainrights]

if ur still doing villain matchups id like to request one! your writing makes me so happy 👉👈 never done this before so i hope i give you enough to work with!

im a 21 y.o. guy (he/they) who's strictly into men. im chubby and i like to keep my hair long, in braids or just loose. full time college student and a writer. im partially deaf and an insomniac lol.

my hobbies include gardening, hiking, playing the piano, and on rainy days i love movie nights. im a huge horror fan and listen to mainly metal or folk music. i love cooking, especially for the people i care about, and will make little baked goods or lunches for them.

if i were to have a quirk, i think it would be healing related; either healing wounds or helping people calm emotionally

(It may be a little short but I’ll give it my all. I hope this one is good for you!!!)

TW: The word a.k.a.‘sewer-slide’ is mentioned once so if that’s not anyone’s thing then please scroll past this!!!

Match-Up #17

-I match you with Toya Setsuno-

headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up

-Originally you were brought into the Shie Hassaikai to take on the role as their (yep you guessed it) healer. You were supposed to take on the burden they expected Overhaul to take but let’s be honest here: there was no way he’d want to heal people all day AND run the yakuza. Take the time to acknowledge his germaphobia and realize healing people (unless absolutely necessary) was not on his to-do list. This was good news for you since the job payed well and helped you cover the tuition from your college courses. It was also flexible with your schedule which was a plus! It was also where you met him...You were busy in the medical office of the underground base trying to get a handle on the absolute shit show that was their files/records. It was obvious that whoever they put down here didn’t take an extra second to review what they were doing. It was then that you suddenly heard a knock at the door. “Come in?” You rubbed your hands together figuring it was time for you to use your quirk finally but instead it was just a delivery. The blonde man caught one look at you and went silent for a minute before shaking his head and turning his gaze to the floor. “Uh, you’re Y/N? This is what the boss sent down for you.” He pointed at the large box sitting on one of the tables. He made sure to speak up in case you didn’t hear him. It (the box) was full of clean/new medical supplies. While you were busy admiring the supplies, he was busy admiring you. His eyes slowly trailed from the ground and back to your form. He hadn’t felt this way since his last love ‘which ended in heartbreak and a suicide attempt, get it together Toya!’ He mentally scolded himself for even considering you as a romantic partner. He quickly left the office when you signed the papers but it was too late. He was the type to guard his heart but he also couldn’t help it when he fell in love so quickly. 

-He spent everyday for the next month mentally arguing with himself. To you, he just seemed to be wishy washy. One day he’d come in and offer to share his breakfast with you, and the next day he would avoid you completely. He was losing focus on a lot of things but when he finally started slipping in his work is when Hojo got involved. Toya was a friend of his that he didn’t want to see get killed out there just because of daydreaming. Therefore, Hojo was the one to tell you that Toya had a crush on you. Finally his behavior was making sense to you. The very next day at work you surprised him with homemade cookies you’d baked just for him.. The blush that spread on his cheeks when he saw the heart shapes...oh boy. They say the rest was history.

-At some point you had to take a break from the Hassaikai to focus on yourself and your school. Chisaki didn’t mind in the least bit and surprisingly offered you a space if you ever decided to return at some point. He was probably just glad one of his best men could finally focus at work again lol. You spent your days together making him the happiest he’s ever been really. You even made him lunches to take to work, which Tabe constantly tried to swipe out of the breakroom fridge. He always treated you as though you were gold to him and you never failed to make him feel loved. This being said, it was not always a good time being with him. He’s still broken after all this time and requires a lot of reassurance. In the first half of the relationship, you’re going to deal with a few trust issues from him. He asked to check your phone a few times, he’s insecure and doubts himself always. He’s clingy and keeps eyes on you very often. He’s whiny sometimes and might come off as possessive when you’re in public together. Jealously is on 100% but never any violent kind, no! Just the kind where he doesn’t want you to go to that restaurant again since the waiter hit on you. I swear it gets better the longer you date! Eventually he doesn’t feel the need to check up on you so often. You feel a lot less suffocated and he trusts you more. His jealously is still there occasionally, but now he can tell the difference between someone flirting and someone just complimenting you. He still deals with insecurity issues though, so watch out for them.

-Whatever you’re into, he tries to get into. If he’s not successful at it then he sits on the sidelines and cheers you on. Gardening? Great! Let’s get to work out there before the rain rolls in. Hiking? Sure thing! Let me just grab my shoes and pack a bag, then we’ll be on our way. Piano? Okay I can try it...but I’m not good in the least bit haha! Horror movies? Ehhhhh, what the hell why not! Music together? Let’s go! Show him your metal and folk collection (or whatever else you may enjoy as well)! Even when it comes to writing, he’s supportive. However, he can also be too supportive at times and this crosses over into lecturing/nagging. That insomnia is one of the biggest things he nags you over...even if you don’t have much control over it. He wants to support your good health and that means you need good sleep patterns or you’ll start to feel not so great. Sometimes to get you to at least lay down in the bed (even if you’re wide awake) he offers to scratch your scalp. It’s a win for him since he loves your hair anyway. The downside is that he ends up falling asleep before you do every single time!

[amygdalagustd]

Kim Namjoon on Identity

Namjoon explores the concept of identity time and time again in his life and in his music. He tends to focus on how different parts of himself might be in conflict with each other, and the tensions and confusion that goes with that experience. People are filled with duality, sometimes to the point that it tears us apart. The question of “who am I?” seems a simple one, but underneath it lies a lot of complexity. Who do I want to be? Who do other people want me to be? How much of my identity is formed by my past? Can I change who I am? Can I be multiple things at the same time? Who is the real me? What does it even mean to be the real me?

The question of “who am I?” seems to both fascinate and terrify Namjoon. In this essay we will tackle the question together as I explore all the different ways that Namjoon contemplates identity in lyrics and interviews.

From his decision to become a rapper in the first place to the struggle of taking care of himself as a world famous idol to the questioning of what having an identity actually means, we will travel through Namjoon’s career and highlight all the moments that he asks himself:

“Who the hell am I?”

It’s no secret that Namjoon was a very intelligent and driven student who got good grades in school. In his earlier lyrics he often writes about the pressure that was put on him to succeed and follow a certain path in life. As someone who was good at studying it was expected of him to prioritize his education above all else. Namjoon fit into that role well, but behind the scenes his heart was longing for music. He discovered rap and decided that he wanted a different path for his life. BTS’s early work is filled with messages of following your dreams and not letting other people decide what type of life you want to live. Namjoon often talked about the struggles of living in between the expectations of those around him and his own desires for his future. Some of those conflicting feelings are expressed in Voice, the intro song to his 2015 mixtape RM:

Straight A student and underground rapper

I occupied myself all day with being graded with meaningless numbers like beef gets graded

I just wanted to succeed

because that’s the only thing I was told by others so much that I almost got sick of it

The mirage called happiness- I thought it would be held there

But, sitting at my desk, I was never happy, not for a single moment

I secretly hid a blank sheet of paper between the pages of my study book without my mom’s knowing

My identity that I wrote down along the sound of drums and bass

The feeling of breathing that is different from that of receiving grade reports

Even when I was the top of my class, my mind was never at ease

Is it absolutely necessary to want something that others want?

I secretly raise the volume of my voice

so that you can know, so that it can reach you

I again raise the volume of my voice

so that you can know, so that it can reach you

He also touches on the subject in Born Singer, which was released in 2013:

To be honest, I was scared that I was to prove myself after talking big

that I, who used to know only pen and book, was then to surprise the world

I dunno, that I and the world’s expectations are too asymmetric,

I was scared that I might betray everyone who trusted me

I stretch my burdened shoulders and step onto the very first stage

BTS and Namjoon will continue to talk about the pressure of society's expectations and the difficulty of following your own path in songs like No More Dream, N.O and School of Tears. Fighting back against the oppressive school system is a huge part of their message and mission in their early career. They ask their fans and themselves to look at the person that they are expected to become and question if that image is in line with their own dreams and desires. Namjoon wrestled with this question himself, and therefore has the experience and passion to guide others who might be struggling with their identity and the identity that is put on them.

Idol and artist

The concept of being an idol vs being an artist is one that comes back often in BTS lyrics. Namjoon is an underground rapper who ended up in a boyband, and the identity of being an idol is one that he has wrestled with quite a bit. Can you be both an idol and an artist? Does becoming an idol mean that you have to give up on being an artist? Does it matter if you call yourself an idol or an artist? Does it matter what other people say about it?

Namjoon mentions this conflicting identity in Awakening on his 2015 mixtape RM:

Every night I fight myself inside me

My heart pounds, and my colleagues stab me in the back

saying I became a cripple after going into a company

Yeah fuck you I’m an idol, yeah yeah i’m an idol

I hated it at one time but now I love to get that title

Unlike some keep denying [their identity] to the end on television,

I now fully accept myself, and I just do me

Whether I’m an idol or an artist- it actually never mattered

The way you guys look at me was what defined me

I was obsessed over titles and hung up on how people described me

Listen to the rap of the guy who became a bit smarter as time passed

Namjoon gets shit for being an idol from the underground rap scene and gets shit for being an artist from the idol scene. He is hovering in between, writing his rap lyrics with the power and authenticity of a hip hop artist while simultaneously dancing and looking like a full fledged boyband member. He responds to this dilemma with unwavering pride, the drive to prove himself and a fuck you attitude. This energy dominates a lot of early BTS music. They are still trying to find their place in the industry while not really knowing where exactly they belong. Songs like the Cyphers and Mic Drop highlight the anger they feel about the mistreatment they face from both sides of the industry while boasting about their accomplishments and pride in who they are. Just like Namjoon in Awakening, Yoongi also often mentions his struggles with the identity of being an idol in his solo work. In Idol, the title track of the 2018 album Love Yourself: Answer, BTS face the subject head on:

You can call me artist

You can call me idol

Or you can call me anything else

I don’t care

I’m proud of it

I’m free

No more irony

Because I’ve been me all the time

You can point your fingers at me, I don’t care at all

Whatever reason you have to denigrate me,

I know what I am

I know what I want

I never gon’ change

I never gon’ trade

Why do you talk loud “blah blah”

I do what I do, so mind your own business

You can’t stop me loving’ myself

Idol is a proud, joyful, wonderfully weird and confident self love anthem. It’s a celebration of who BTS are at their core. In the song, they have accepted all the different aspects of their identity and they don’t feel the need to fit in with just one label. In the future, they will go on to say that BTS’s genre is just BTS, and they see no point in categorizing themselves.

RM and Namjoon

In 2018, BTS released a documentary series called Burn The Stage. The series followed them throughout the Wings tour and was supposed to show a more raw version of them.

In episode 6, Namjoon said:

Being an idol star, you don’t have a choice but to have two identities. I invested a lot in my identity as BTS and RM, and this is really a dilemma. We need to find ways to overcome this, and I’m trying different things. I study, I read books. I need time to be wholly me, the original me that I know.

Everyone in BTS has a stage name, a person they become when they present themselves in front of their fans. On stage Namjoon is RM, a fierce and confident rapper, a powerful and charming performer, a dependable leader and someone who lives a fiery and intense life.

Behind the scenes, Namjoon is Namjoon, a man in his twenties who is trying to figure out how to be an adult just like everyone else. He likes to go on bike rides, take care of plants, go to museums, read books and spend time in nature. He gets lazy and reads webtunes for 5 hours straight and sometimes argues with the people around him because they annoy him.

Namjoon spends the years of his youth as part of BTS, in the public eye, and sometimes that causes tension between these different parts of himself; the stage persona and the private person. In Break The Silence: The Movie which came out in 2020, there was a lot of talk about identity. During one of Namjoon’s segments he said:

There is also the fear of how well I’m taking care of myself, the Kim Namjoon as a person. Aside from money, fame, and a sense of calling, what do I really have? When you have those things all other things start to feel really valuable. Those who don’t have them would find them really special. I think it’s a repetition of that, so for me, there is a fear about whether I’m faithfully living the story of my life to the fullest.

He also mentions this dilemma in Airplane pt.2 on the 2018 album Love Yourself: Tear where the lyrics go:

Who should I live as today, Kim Namjoon or RM?

25, I still don’t know how to live well

For Namjoon and anyone in BTS, there is no simple answer to this question, as the nature of their job puts them in a position that makes it hard for them to develop a sense of self outside of the work they are doing. Even though Namjoon is part of an incredibly successful band, that doesn't mean he got it all figured out. As he has poured his youth and his energy into becoming the best performer he can be, he now feels like the Kim Namjoon behind the scenes deserves some energy and space to exist too.

Rap Monster and RM

Before Namjoon was RM, Namjoon was Rap Monster, a stage name that he used until November of 2017. The name Rap Monster fits the fierce and somewhat angst-ridden style of music that Namjoon was making in the beginning of his career. He decided to move on from the name in 2017 because it was no longer representative of him and the music that he was making.

In an interview with Entertainment Tonight Namjoon said that RM could stand for many things. He mentioned Real Me as one of the possibilities, but seems to prefer not to pin one specific meaning to the name.

In another interview with J-14 Magazine when asked what kind of advice he would give to himself in 2013, he said:

Hey Namjoon, Don’t name yourself Rap Monster. You’re a human. You’re not a monster. You’re a beautiful human.

Namjoon has often said that one of his missions in life is to love himself. This struggle to love himself often reflects in his lyrics, and now also in his decision to change his stage name, as the old one had some negative connotations to it. Perhaps Namjoons struggle with self acceptance, self worth and self love is one of the reasons that identity is such a big theme for him, as he is trying to figure out how to be a Namjoon that he can love. RM is a stage name that is more aligned with that goal as it leaves more room for flexibility and change.

Map of the Soul

The subject of identity is explored to the fullest in the Map of the Soul era that started with Map of the Soul: Persona in 2019, followed up by Map of the Soul: 7 in 2020.

Map of the Soul is inspired by the ideas of psychiatrist and psychoanalyst Carl Gustav Jung. The words persona, shadow and ego that are used in Map of the Soul come directly from his theory. BTS uses these concepts to examine different parts of themselves and their career over time. A lot of this era feels like a final examination of the question that Namjoon has been asking himself in different ways throughout his entire career: Who am I?

In Intro: Persona, the opener to both albums, Namjoon writes about his journey with identity in the first few lines of the song:

“Who am I,” a question that I’ve been asking myself for my whole life

A question that I will probably never be able to find the right answer for

If I were answerable with only a few words,

God wouldn’t have created all those many beauties

Namjoon realizes that he will probably never have a clear answer to the question of “who am I?” and he accepts that. He recognizes that his identity can’t be summed up by a few words or traits and that this isn’t a bad thing. Sometimes it can feel more secure to build our entire sense of identity around one aspect of ourselves (I am a straight A student, I am an underground rapper) but that puts us in a position without flexibility and without space for growth. As different parts of ourselves clash with each other we end up feeling scattered, unsure of who we are, and angry at ourselves. It’s only when those different parts of ourselves are allowed to co-exist that we can find peace and a true sense of self.

BTS will talk about this idea in other songs too, like in Idol, where Taehyung sings:

There are tens and hundreds of myself within me

Today, I greet my another self

They are all me after all,

so I just run rather than worrying

The notion also comes back in the speech that BTS held for the United Nations in 2018. The final message of that speech was to find your name and find your voice by speaking yourself. There was a lot of talk about losing your identity as a young child in favor of fitting in, and Namjoon encouraged everyone to be their own person and to find their own voice back. Throughout the speech he mentions how he is both an idol and artist, Kim Namjoon and RM, and also just an ordinary 24 year old guy. He is saying that he can be many things at once and strives to love all those different parts of himself at the same time.

In the final verses of Intro: Persona, Namjoon boldly and confidently claims that he is no longer ashamed of the different parts inside of him, writing:

Yeah my name is R

The ‘me’ who I remember and who people know

The ‘me’ who I created by myself to speak my mind

Yeah, I might have been deceiving myself, I might have been lying

But, I’m not ashamed of it, this is the map of my soul

The lyrics continue, focusing on duality, complexity and balance within his identity, accepting the different parts of himself that coexist together even if they clash:

Dear myself

You must never lose your temperature

because you don’t need to be warm or cold

Though I might sometimes pretend I’m good and sometimes pretend I’m evil,

this is the barometer of my direction that I want to set

The ‘me’ who I want to be

The ‘me’ who people want

The ‘me’ who you love

And the ‘me’ who I craft

The ‘me’ who’s smiling

The ‘me’ who’s crying sometimes

Living and breathing every second, every moment, even now

Within these lyrics there is a tone of direction and intent rather than one of being lost and questioning. This tone is very strong throughout the entire Map of the Soul concept, especially in ON, suggesting that maybe “finding” your identity isn’t about anxiously defining every single part of your personality, it’s more about choosing who you want to be and boldly pursuing the world as an incomplete human being. In the end, there is no simple answer to the question of “who am I?” and that’s okay.

All lyrics translations come from Doolset. Visit the website for additional notes and interpretations of BTS lyrics.

[limitlessgojo]

Blood Bound: Red Strings of Fate (Ch 6)

Warnings: Action, Coarse Language, Fighting, Descriptions of Blood

Previous Chapter: Special Grade

Next Chapter: Bird of Flame

Tags: Soulmates AU, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Fem!Reader

Taglist: @lessie-oxj @rizzo-nero @whoreuc @fkngkumiko @isl3t @gojoussunglasses @onepotatostand-blog @s-t-f-u-b-i-t-c-h @sunaswife

Notes: If you want to be tagged for every update, please mention it in the comments below ty <3

We are finally past the introductions and getting into the bulk of the story🥰💕 excited for this to unravel.

Chapter 6: Speed of Sound

You had a physical and cursed energy examination along with the second years the next day. Much like when you had your height and weight measured at the clinic. But this time, it was your power, speed, stamina, defense level, and flexibility with and without your cursed technique that they were measuring.

“Ugh, it’s so windy out today.” Mai complained. The sun was really bright as the four of you first years stood there.

“Y/n.” All of you turned to look at the source of the voice. You smiled brightly upon hearing him. “It has been a while.”

“Noritoshi senpaii~” you skipped your way towards him with a huge smile on your face. “How have you been?”

Noritoshi was always busy, with clan affairs, missions (now that he got recommended for grade 1 and is enroute to a semi-grade 1) and studies that you only had a short time to say hi whenever you passed by the other in the hallways. But he always secretly looked forward to seeing you.

He nodded his greeting to the other first years before turning to smile down at you as you came up to him. “Not too bad. Hope you’ve adjusted well to campus life?” he murmured, eyes softening.

“I’m okay, don't worry about me. Shared class today, this is my first time. I wonder how it will go?” You excitedly said.

“The usual, you might find it boring. Ah, and I’ve heard that you were given the title Special Grade. Congratulations.” He said.

“Is that something to be celebrated?” you asked while tilting your head to the side. “Thank you though.”

He mimicked you, tilting his head in the same direction and leaning forward so that your eyes were both still in line with each other’s, “It’s proof that you’re strong and that’s also a good thing.”

You hummed in thought. “I don’t really care about rankings to be honest. I just need to be strong enough to protect the ones I love.”

Noritoshi’s eyes slightly widened at that. He was about to speak when he was rudely interrupted.

“TSUCHI CHAN! You owe me a fight.” Todo senpai boomed with Momo sighing tiredly beside him. You jumped about 4 feet into the air at the sound and Noritoshi protectively held a hand in front of you again. “That’s enough Todo. It’s still early in the morning.”

“A fight, or else I will reveal who your ideal type is to everyone here.” He grinned.

Oh no he didn’t. The winds picked up around you as your cursed energy flared dangerously. Everyone except Noritoshi took a step back from you.

You looked up at him with the coldest eyes you have, “You promised you wouldn’t senpai. But I am not backing down from a fight. Don’t cry too badly when I bury you 6 feet underground.”

“There it is! Her dark side.” Miwa cried out. “You’re gonna die senpai.” But Todou just laughed. “I knew you were interesting the moment we met Tsuchi chan. It’s settled. A fight later after class.”

“Todo’s gonna die later. I look forward to seeing it.” Mai yawned nonchalantly as Mechamaru just nodded. Momo just laughed as she settled in beside Mai.

Soon Utahime called you all to attention and you went on with the activities. You were competing with Todo for almost every measurement (with the use of cursed energy of course. You were not so strong without it).

You just laughed at yourself as you found out you had the weakest physical punching power among the first years. Yep, you rely too much on your cursed energy to back you up.

You had the highest score though when you used your cursed energy. You warped the space around your hand in a spiral motion, the wind picking up around your fist, before you propelled yourself to punch the target. BAANG! It was pushed a number of meters back further than Todo’s target.

Todo just clapped. “Well done.” And the entire time, Noritoshi was closely monitoring you, staying by your side and asking questions about your technique.

At that, you tugged on his sleeve and he smiled and bent down for you. You told him quietly that you would tell him more about it later when you’re alone. His eyebrows raised, but his smile widened, “Thank you for that. I don’t mind telling you about mine too.”

The others were just silently watching you both out of the corner of their eyes.

“Mai chan, wanna bet as to when those two will get together?” Momo whispered. Everyone else except the two of you heard her.

“Depends on what you wanna bet on. But I’m willing to bet they’ll get together in the next maybe 4 months or so.” she smirked.

“3 months” Miwa piped up quietly.

“Maybe 2 months lol.” Mechamaru said.

“No. They might take… a few weeks. 3?” Todo said seriously.

Utahime cleared her throat out loud gathering all of your attention. “Last activity. Running laps. This track field is 400 meters long as you all know. Finish 1 lap. First without then with your cursed technique. Nishimiya and Tsuchimikado flying is permitted.”

You perked up at that and clapped your hands excitedly. Then stopped and thought about it remembering your father’s words:

“ ‘You don’t have to max out your abilities. We keep our clan’s abilities as much of a secret as possible to prevent any information leakage that may be used against us. Remember to use your technique wisely. You’re the strongest in our clan, sweetheart.’ You nodded, ‘Okay papa.’ ”

So God speed mode of a Mach 4 is out of the picture. Mach speed 3… maybe out. ‘No I can limit it to just under the speed of sound.’ you thought determinedly.

You zoned out the next hour until it was time to run with your cursed technique. “Are you okay? You look a bit pale.” Noritoshi put a hand on your back to support you.

You quickly shook your head “I’m fine, no worries.” He didn’t look like he believed you but let you go ahead.

“Tsuchimikado. It says here on your report that you can move at mach speeds.” Utahime spoke. FUCK. Oh well. You turned to her with the stiffest smile on your face as she realized you didn’t want the information disclosed.

You took your starting position, still determined to keep it under half the speed of sound. “Ready… go!” You whipped around the entire trackfield in just under 3 seconds.

“Tsuchimikado. 2.4 seconds.” You nodded and jogged back beside Miwa who gave you a high five. “That was sooo cool, you need to let me fly with you next time.” She excitedly said.

You laughed. “I’m not the best at holding people with me when I move at high speeds. But slow flying is fine.”

“Why don’t you go faster?” Todo asked. Everyone quieted down as you turned to him. “I have a feeling you've been limiting your output. You’ve obviously been holding back this entire time, are you not taking it seriously? We are here to challenge ourselves, there is no need to hold back.”

Your eye and finger twitched. “That’s not it.” This man was amazing at pushing your buttons. But you sighed as there was no reason to hide it anymore. “Utahime sensei can I-”

“Go ahead. When you’re ready.”

You took your starting position again. You could push Mach 5 if you wanted to, though just above Mach 1 should be enough.

But you can feel Todo just silently egging you on from the sidelines. And it honestly worked. “Start!”

There was a loud BANG! You were back in the starting line in less than a second. The only proof of your movement was the smoke and dust rising above the tracks.

“I am so sorry, but I didn’t catch that. I physically can’t. That was less than a second. Your speed please?” Utahime called out. “Mach 2.”

You stepped right up to Todo with a challenging glint. “Prepare yourself for later.” He just huffed out a proud smile, then you stood aside with Miwa and Noritoshi.

“Was that, just now a sonic boom?” asked Noritoshi. “No it was my ringtone.” you deadpanned. The others choked a laugh out at that.

He turned to you with a pout, but you just bumped his hip with yours and laughed “It’s called sarcasm Noritoshi senpai~” He quietly chuckled along, which he was surprised at how easy it was to do so whenever he was with you.

You all finished up. Momo was also pretty fast, going at 10 seconds around the track. Noritoshi senpai blew you out of the water to be honest. His record was 35 seconds on foot. How. That was over the world record for men’s running.

You noticed a red marking forming over his eye and remembered seeing it for a bit when it came to the strength measurement test earlier. He was just a bit behind you, Mechamaru and Todo in terms of power.

And Mechamaru and Todo were largely… disproportionate to him, being way bigger and bulkier. But he could somehow manage.

“Are any of you going to spar after this? If so I will be supervising.” Utahime sensei called.

“We will.” Todo senpai motioned between the two of you. Noritoshi surprisingly spoke up too, “I also wanna have a go against y/n if that’s fine with you.” He turned to you with a concerned look. You just smiled, “Of course it’s fine Noritoshi senpai!”

“Okay, try not to break anything, limit the damage here on campus please. I will be calling a close if it gets too bad.” Utahime warned.

“There's no need for that.” You smiled to yourself.

Author's Rambles: Mach Speed (AKA Supersonic speed) is described as a speed greater than the speed of sound. Mach X means that the speed is X times greater than the speed of sound. A Mach 5 would be categorised as Hypersonic speed^^. O/C uses her Psychokinesis to move her forward as fast as she can.

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