#and keep getting told i have the cleanest teeth

[halfelven]

can i be honest with you? i’d be so slutty if people had better oral hygiene and i don’t even care if that makes me a snob

[sweetfushi]

How about a haikyuu sickfic where the reader has a sleepover at a characters house to nurse them, but they end up getting sick too and now it’s the characters turn to take care of them? You can change the idea if you’d like, good luck!!

NURSING HIM WHEN HE'S ILL

fluff | wakatoshi ushijima, kozume kenma, kentaro kyotani x reader, surprise surprise all of them are ill and idiots for not being careful (or just too in love to care), high temperature | word count. 1.4k ◦ notes. changed this very slightly if you can notice but the idea is very much still there <3

WAKATOSHI USHIJIMA

“I told you to keep your distance,” you sigh heavily, cupping the mug of warm chamomile tea and honey to measure the temperature. When you’re sure it’s cool enough to hold, you hand it to Ushijima, who’s barely keeping himself sat up on the couch. You wince as he coughs into his tissue again, before taking the mug from your hands.

“Keeping my distance,” he mumbles, “meant leaving you ill.”

You shake your head and roll your eyes, but know he means well. Did this man have any flaws? “And look what caring for me got you.” Once you sit beside him with enough distance between the two of you to ensure your health, you refill his glass of water that sits on the coffee table. In the meantime, Ushijima sips his tea and inhales wheezily. His cough was nothing serious because yours was the same, just an inconvenience that left you too unbothered to do anything other than complain and curse yourself for being so careless.

Ushijima, however, is much quieter than you when ill. The most he’s done is complain under his breath or groan loudly. Even so, it’s clear he’s uncomfortable and bothered by his illness. Especially since it renders him incapable of performing his best in matches. Luckily, he’s not had any upcoming ones due to the last two months being ones dedicated to training before the finals. Meaning, he had more than enough time to get better.

“You’ve officially killed me,” he huffs with his eyes closed.

Well, it appears even when he’s ill Ushijima will find humour in the situation.

You press your fingers to his temple in the shape of a gun - your middle and index finger together, your other fingers curled back and your thumb pointed upwards. “My cleanest kill yet.”

He shakes his head, before coughing loudly into his fist. All the while, you stare at him, waiting for him to calm and settle back into the couch with a tired look on his face. Ushijima glances at you, blinking slowly. Even when ill, Ushijima wants to maintain physical contact with you despite knowing it would be best not too if he valued your health alongside his.

But, he still reaches his hand out and hopes you get the message. God knows he’s too parched and sore to verbalise it.

And being the understanding woman you are, you appear to catch on with the way your lips tilt into a small smile. He knows you love it when he gets like this, particularly needy and aching for your touch. So, you apply a decent amount of sanitiser on his hands and wait for him to slowly rub it along his skin before grabbing his hand.

Your thumb brushes along the back of his hand, enough to soothe him even as another cough builds up in his throat. This time, he catches it in a tissue and gives you a tiredly sheepish look.

“I’ll wash my hands this time.”

“Good idea.”

KOZUME KENMA

Kenma is a good listener when he wants to be. He decided he would not listen to you when you warned him of his cold having the potential to progress into much worse. That being a fever; a fever that left him bed-ridden and highly uncomfortable with any sort of noise, skin contact and unequilibrated temperatures. He was dealing with all three with the sound of the washing machine, your hands placing a damp cloth on his forehead, and the open window of his previously warm room.

His expression is of evident frustration with himself.

“I… maybe,” his teeth chatter, “should’ve listened.”

You bite your tongue to suppress the urge to tell him I told you so, as saying that may only do good for your ego. Instead, you give him a pointed look that he just about catches through his hooded eyes and raging headache. Though even as you treat him, your sniffles pose as the remaining aftermath of your own fever from a week ago. Kenma knows this, so it is now his turn to give you a pointed look.

“Hey, you worry about yourself,” you whisper-shout, careful not to raise your voice to a decibel that would worsen his headache. “You can glare at me when you’re not looking like a sad cat.”

Kenma snarls, but he’s amused. He just doesn’t have it in him to express that, not when it meant laughing or even cracking a smile. But he does let out a small whine to let you know that he’s listening to your uncalled-for insults.

Your lips part as you go to talk again, but seal shut when you decide against it. You don’t want to bother him with unnecessary talk, even if your voice is one of the few he could listen to continuously without wanting to pull his phone out.

You refill his glass of water before helping him sit up in bed and offering him the glass. He takes a moment to just inhale and exhale at a controlled pace, before taking the glass and bringing it up to his lips. The positive thing about this all is that Kenma is very cooperative when ill because he hates being in that state as much as the next person. He’ll complain and grumble, sure, but it would never be towards any attempt to help him get better. Thus, he drinks the water in silence and politely asks for a refill.

“I was…” he mumbles, “gonna practise with Kuroo tomorrow.”

“Not in your state you won’t. Maybe he can FaceTime you as he practises, but you’re going nowhere near that court.” You pause for a moment, considering your words. “Or any other human for that matter.”

Kenma is on the brink of sleep as he stares at you for a moment, before shutting his eyes and sighing in agreement.

KENTARO KYOTANI

Once you’ve finally finished squeezing some fresh orange juice into a glass, you make your way over to the curled heap of illness that is Kyotani. You’d thrown a blanket over him and let him sip on the orange juice with a grumble. You were only a partial cause of his sneezing. The other part came from his open window, either due to the pollen that infested his room or the cool night breeze that unsettled his immune system.

“Thanks,” he manages to say, before slamming the empty glass down on the table just in time to catch his explosive sneeze in a tissue. You thank him internally for having the capacity to do that and not spread his germs (even though you had been the one to spread yours to him).

“Make sure to blow your nose and push the snot out, not suck it back in.”

“Ew, please don’t,” he grimaces. “I mean, I’ll do that and whatever, just please reword.”

You roll your eyes at his excessive disgust, but find it amusing that he can still generate anger when his nose tickles and his chest constricts. You’re not sure if that’s something you admire, but it is certainly something you find entertaining, so you can credit him for that.

Kyotani sees your gentle, almost dazed smile as you run your hand along his buzzcut, smoothing over his head and watching as he allows you to. Ever since you got married, he had made it clear to you that physical touch was enough to satiate him no matter his mood, so it’s no surprise that he’s closing his eyes and practically purring at the feeling of your hand on him.

For a moment, you pull your hand away from his head in order to pull the blanket tighter around him, and this frustrates him. He doesn’t care about the damn blanket, he wants your hand back on his head. Following that thought, Kyotani internally appreciates human incapability to hear thoughts or read minds, otherwise you wouldn’t let his thoughts go for weeks. You tease him enough as is, he’s not sure he can survive anything more.

You practically scream at the sudden sneeze he releases the moment you release your hold on his blanket. He grunts when you smack the back of his head.

“Surely you could’ve sneezed quieter.” You try to grab at his hair in an attempt to pull it, but hear him snicker when you fail.

“You were blowing this place up just as much a few days ago.”

“I’ve never known a sick person to talk so much,” you retort. Kyotani shakes his head at your immature response, but it gets him to fall silent and focus his attention on stopping his sneezes - as if paying closer attention to them would mean he would get better. Maybe it did, hell if he knew.

But, it was nice to be doted on, as much as he won’t admit it. He wouldn’t mind falling ill more often if it meant you’d devote your full attention to him.

sweetfushi © do not modify, repost, translate, copy or use my post in any way. all that is included in this post, aside from the fictional characters and universes, belong to sweetfushi (zee).

[merakiui]

Wow! The way you write his jealously is spot-on, Mera! 🤯❤ i can see Floyd, after that incident, doodling crudely drawings of him, reader and the future baby (or babies. He likes the idea of making them with you, many times) he'll have with you, all living together as a one happy family.

Something to appease his jealously while he waits for his next visit with you or his freedom, he fills his wall with these drawings, looking dreamily at the one he's drawing right now.

Maybe baby shrimp will have your eyes? He loves your eyes (and the idea of keeping them in a jar, only looking at him). Oh! He'll love it if they're born with his teeth, having sharp teeth is very useful to bite through many (human) meats!!

Floyd laughs loudly in his cell. For the first time ever since he got in the death row, he can't wait for his family to free him. Well, they gotta if they want to meet the future Leech family members!

(Just Floyd having sick fantasies, and probably even sicker pregnancy fantasies 😳)

Omg yes!! Floyd is always doodling in his cell, humming to himself as he scribbles on the walls and floor with chalk. He writes out potential names, crossing some out when he thinks you might not like them, always adding new names when they come to mind. He adores the idea of having many children with you. Floyd has definitely told you during one of your interviews how he'd knock you up and in what positions. He likes watching you squirm; it's cute. But what he likes even more is fantasizing about a life with you, with a house full of happy, little shrimpys.

He wants the baby shrimpys to have a mix of his and your best features! Your pretty smile, your lovely eyes, your nose, your face... He could dote on these imaginary children forever, and he certainly does when he's adding new doodles to his cell walls. There is one particular drawing he's made. It's of you and it labels all of your parts as if you're an anatomy example in a biology textbook. He can point out various parts on this crude drawing and ramble about which would be the easiest to sever, to gouge, to stab, to eviscerate. He can list the messiest murder schemes, the cleanest schemes, the schemes that leave a human body so disfigured they almost don't look human anymore.

He has a lot of sick, twisted fantasies. He's thought about fucking you against the interview table so roughly that all the recording device picks up are your sobs and moans. He's thought about choking you with the chain of the handcuffs, yanking your head up to his mouth so he can lick and bite at your neck. He thinks about how hard he could bite down so that you're bleeding nonstop. He's thought about, if he were still free and he'd found you, he'd fuck you with a knife held to your throat or a gun against your temple just to feel you tighten around his cock.

And then there are the pregnancy fantasies, the ones where you're his housewife shrimpy and you're always waiting for him to come home. He'd give you so many massages and he'd help milk you every night. He'd let you ride him until you're crying from overstimulation, and he'd fuck you while you're on your hands and knees, cradling your baby bump and whispering the sweetest promises to you. He used to be an apprentice chef, so you know he can cook some killer (pun intended) meals. Sometimes he dreams of breaking out of prison to find you and make your husband watch as he fucks you so good, much better than your lame husband ever could. He's thought about letting Jade fuck you just so that you can get pregnant and have babies that look like him while he waits for the day when he can escape.

Floyd hates not being able to touch you. He just wants to give you one hug. Just one! He won't hurt you. He likes you. But everyone's trying to get between him and his shrimpy and it's really bothersome. But it will all be worth it in the end once he's finally out and he can come to retrieve his shrimpy.

[foxymoxynoona]

++ also I saw you're doing dribbles for your anniversary! I didn't look at the list yet, but can you do something with wisdom tooth removal (feeling inspired by my current situation lol).. Perhaps with amended couple👉🏼👈🏼 I love me some JK and Bella. If not, that's okay ofc. I enjoy anything you write!

I know this is sooooo far after your wisdom tooth removal but hopefully it's a funny little reminder that you did it and you're done and you don't have to do that again 😅

Story: Amended Characters: Jungkook x Isabella CW: references to surgery risk, language

Isabella couldn’t help the nerves in her stomach as she walked through the front doors of the oral surgeon’s office. She’d been told over the phone that everything had gone well, and wisdom teeth removal was hardly the riskiest surgery, but it was still surgery and Jungkook had still been put partially under for it, and she’d spent the whole time trying not to think about that time he’d been fucking shot in the head. He wasn’t going to die during wisdom tooth surgery. The odds of that were super super low. She’d already been the unlucky statistic too many times to lose her husband this way! The universe owed her. This better be the cleanest fucking wisdom tooth removal surgery ever.

The call from reception telling her all was well and to come take him home had been a the first wave of relief. Isabella hadn’t gone far, just down the road so she could pace out her nerves in a bookstore instead of in the waiting room. She’d nearly chewed through the straw of her iced coffee. She was back within minutes to hang onto every word from the receptionist on his status and care. To Jungkook, she would be easy and cool and confident so he could feel comfortable trusting her with his care, but to the nurse she was openly nervous.

“He’ll be fine,” the nurse assured her. “The surgery went well and you can call us with any questions if his recovery doesn’t seem to align with what I’ve said.”

Isabella nodded. She’d cared for her wounded husband before. She could do this. It was just the location –stitches in his gum sounded so much harder to care for than the stitches on his torso and head where she could keep them well bandaged and see recovery with her own eyes. Plus they’d heard every range of recovery story from their friends; it turned out wisdom teeth removal was one of those things just about everyone had an experience they were eager to horrify you with. Dry socket, infection, chipped shards that accidentally got left behind. She shuddered and thanked the stars she had zero wisdom teeth, even if Jungkook had a field day teasing her about her lack of wisdom. She suspected it had been his way of handling his own nerves anyway. His eyes had been very big and his mouth very quiet back during the consultation when all the risks and care had initially been laid out.

“You can come on back, he should be awake enough to get him out to the car with the wheelchair.”

Isabella nodded but wondered, if he needed a wheelchair, how was she going to get him from the car to the house with all their stairs? She hadn’t thought of that. She might have to make him comfortable on the futon in his gaming room until he was able to shuffle up on his own legs. That was something they ought to think about. Maybe they should install a ramp…

The nurse wheeled the chair into the room ahead of her but stopped short. Isabella had to lean around her, half out the door, to see what the obstacle was. 

No obstacle, but the empty chair seemed unexpected.

“He’s gone,” the nurse answered before Isabella could ask the question on her tongue: where is he? “Is this the right room?” Isabella backed up so the nurse could check on the door, her confusion obvious. A paper slipped into a plastic shield read ‘Jeon.’ “Um.” 

Isabella’s stomach dropped. “What do you mean ‘um’. Where is my husband?”

“One moment please… Mr. Jeon?” The nurse stepped quickly around Isabella and for a brief moment of hope, Isabella thought that meant she had remembered something important. She’d left Isabella’s unconscious husband somewhere else, somehow, that was all. 

But when the nurse hoofed it up and down the hall, calling again, “Mr. Jeon?” and speaking quickly with a nurse at the other end of it, Isabella understood: Jungkook was missing.

“What the fuck?” she hissed. “Jungkook!” she called, joining the search. She wasn’t as worried about not disturbing other patients as the nurses were, she wanted to know where her husband was! She called into empty exam rooms and stuck her head into the bathrooms. “Jungkook, where are you?”

“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Jeon. I don’t understand, he was just waking up, he shouldn’t already be mobile–”

“Please just find him,” Isabella said, voice terse but she tried not to be unkind. “I’ll check this way.”

“That’s the staff rooms.”

Isabella didn’t give a shit what the rooms were. She knocked on the staff bathroom and opened the door, no one in it. She checked the coat closet and a supply closet.

She shoved open the door to the staff kitchen/lunch space, just the regular sort of set up like Isabella had at her own work: a sink and some cabinets, a dishwasher, a microwave, an old fridge. And standing in front of that open fridge, as if trying to decide what to eat for lunch, was her dear husband.

“Jungkook, what the hell are you doing?”

He turned slowly, like he was moving through water. His speech was garbled and difficult to understand with his mouth numb and full of gauze. Isabella couldn’t believe she could understand him at all. “It’s about lunch time I guess.”

“Babe, it’s not– it’s going home time. You just had oral surgery.”

She could see immediately in the unfocused haze of his gaze that he was not fully awake yet, the nurse was right about that at least. Apparently that didn’t mean he wasn’t mobile. She took his arms and shuffled him away from the fridge so she could close it. His cheeks were adorably puffed out, lips dry and cracked, the skin around them a little irritated. His eyes narrowed into that smug grin but his mouth itself barely moved as he spoke; she could see the gauze tucked into his cheeks like a sleepy hamster. A trail of drool leaked out and he didn’t notice.

“Heeeeey.”

“Hi, baby–”

“You’re good looking. What’s your name?” he slurred.

Isabella’s shoulders sagged with her sigh of amusement as she wiped the drool away with her sleeve. Of course Jungkook would be that kind of anesthesia patient.

“Isabella Jeon,” she answered, nudging him towards the door. “I’m your wife.”

“Whaaaaa? Damn…”

“Koo,” she laughed. She pressed her hand to her forehead. “God you scared me, wandering off.”

“Think it’s lunchtime– wanna date with you–”

“You can’t eat anything right now. You just had your wisdom teeth out. Let’s get you home, ok?”

“I’m going with you?”

“Yeah, you’re going with me.”

A nurse let out a gasp as they left the lunch room, “Oh! Thank god, you found him.”

“Heeey,” he said to the nurse.

“Oh my god,” Isabella rolled her eyes. 

But Jungkook just asked, “Didju know I have a wife?”

“Yes, Mr. Jeon. A very worried wife. Let’s get you into a wheelchair now and out to your car so your lovely wife can take you home.”

“Raaaad, man.” He said something else Isabella couldn’t hope to understand. She wished she was recording this to tease him later but couldn’t be bothered, she was too shaken by his disappearing act and just wanted him home. He would just have to believe her. She and the nurse helped him ease down into the wheelchair, no fuss.

“He took the ice packs off, does he still have the gauze in? Ok, let me get him wrapped up with the ice packs again and I’ll wheel him out for you.”

Isabella took Jungkook’s hand as they waited through this. He seemed unbothered with anything, his hand warm but largely limp in hers. She thought he dozed off again as the nurse tied the ice packs back in place. He looked like a pitiful cartoon character. His head sank forward on the ride out to the car. She darted ahead to unlock and open his door.

When she turned to help him from chair to seat, she saw his eyes were cracked open again.

“Hey Bella,” he said, apparently remembering her now. “You got a nice ass.”

“I… what?”

“Ass… it’s nice…” 

“Ok Romeo, let’s get you home.”

She shared a look with the nurse, who just smiled, “Everyone comes out of the anesthesia differently. Trust me, I’ve heard much more explicit things than that! The wandering is a new one though… he about gave me a heart attack!”

“Me too.”

She thanked the nurse, bit back any report about maybe not leaving patients alone like that, and slid into the driver’s seat. It looked like Jungkook had dozed off again and she worried about him swallowing or choking on the gauze still packed in but it seemed unbudging. Overall he was rather pitiful looking, swollen and chapped like that, drooly. She was glad the surgery was behind them but eager for him to get to feeling better soon too. Watching someone she loved go through pain or discomfort did not get easier with time.

“All right, baby,” she sighed, stroking back some of the hair sticking out from the icepack wrap. “Let’s get you somewhere you can sleep off the rest of this shit and I’ve got medicine and smoothies and tv shows ready to go.” His hand slid forward over hers resting on his thigh,

She could see the smile in his eyes, even through the haze. Despite the lack of consonants, she could understand him basically on intonation alone. What a funny thing to learn. She hoped she never had to do it again.

“Hey pretty girl.” He blinked at her and cleared his throat and squeezed her hand. “Where we going? It’s a date?”

“Home.”

“Niiigh,” he said. Nice. And then closed his eyes and dozed off again. She patted his leg one more time, felt her stomach settle to have him back in her care, and put the car in reverse. “Hey Bell?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m hungry,” he said, then promptly began to snore.

[zipzin]

A World's Ending (Also on Ao3)

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Willow (TV 2022) Rating: Teen Warnings: Author Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Jade Claymore/Kit Tanthalos, Elora Danan & Kit Tanthalos Characters: Jade Claymore, Kit Tanthalos, Elora Danan Additional Tags: Whump, Angst, Kit Tanthalos Whump, Post Season 1 Summary: It cannot come to pass, Jade won't allow it. But as Kit bleeds steadily on the dusty cave floor, Jade knows that they’re running out of options.

enjoy :)

Jade pushes against the reddening rag on Kit’s stomach, biting her lip to keep from saying anything as Kit grunts. “Hang in there,” Jade commands, and red flows through her fingers.

She cuts another strip off her undertunic, the cleanest and driest thing she can find, and binds it around Kit’s torso, trying to not think about the futility of it.

Jade had ducked out of the cave she’d found to try and find some yarrow, but the sheets of rain had turned her around and she worried she’d lose the location of the cave altogether. She’d returned, empty handed, to a paling Kit already bleeding through the first makeshift bandage. And Jade felt certain that even if the bleeding somehow stopped, Kit would succumb to infection due to the sorry state of their supplies.

She can’t think about that right now, Kit’s chest is still rising and falling with each breath, the air wheezing through her lungs loud enough to be heard over the pounding rain against the solid stones. Jade bites her lip as she holds her shaking hand against the gaping wound. 

“Am I dying?” Kit tries to give a smirk but it’s completely marred by the pain on her face.

“Kit,” Jade’s voice breaks.

“Oh.”

They need help, real help.

 Magic and a healer and a miracle.

“Save your strength,” Jade orders, “You will get through this.”

“Fuck!” Kit grits her teeth and closes her eyes, as her body twitches and clenches. Her skin is still damp from the rain, her hair plastered to her skull and making her look younger than she is. Jade’s certain she looks worse, her hands plastered with Kit’s blood, a mix of new bright red and dried brown that Jade doesn’t think will ever wash off. 

She’d had some medical training, but not for something like this. She could practically see Ballantine, years ago, pointing to the torso and saying, “You best pray for an easy passing if the wound is there.”

Jade refuses. She doesn’t care that they need divine intervention, Kit is not going to-

A tear splatters onto Kit’s chest.

“Jade,” She mutters again. “I-”

“I told you to wait,” Jade says desperately.

“I know.”

“Kit,” Jade can’t find any other words. “We were supposed to attack together,” She cries.

Kit closes her eyes and Jade doesn’t know if it’s in shame or pain. “I thought I had an opening.”

Jade brushes some of Kit’s rain soaked hair behind her ear, “Kit.”

“I know,” Kit groans.

“You need to be careful, you don’t have the Cuirass on! I need you to be more careful!” Jade’s voice is squeaking like it hasn’t since she won her first bout after starting to train with the Pacalcade. “You’re not invincible.” 

Her heart hammers in her chest and it feels like her own torso is slashed.

“I,” Kit can’t finish the rest of the sentence.

Kit closes her eyes and leans her head back, hand coming up to her side, as she tries to not writhe in pain. Jade takes one of her hands and whispers, “I’m here, I’ve got you.”

“It hurts so bad.”

Jade takes another look and sees the rapid spreading of red through the rag. It was supposed to not be a problem. Together, they could take him.

They’d run out of space. Jade and Kit skittered to a stop, mud flying up as they looked around at the closest thing to a clearing they’d found in this forest. A huge boulder sat on one end, surrounded by trees, flapping wildly in the storm. They probably only have a handful of seconds to catch their breath before the Goliath caught up to them.

It was time to fight. They both unsheathed their swords.

The crack of breaking branches and a bone-chilling guttural growl announced the arrival of the Goliath. He came to a lumbering stop, his pale white skin standing out unnaturally compared to the green and gray of the forest around him.

“Go together,” Jade whispered.

“Together,” Kit nodded back.

Jade adjusted her grip on her sword, “On three, okay? One, two-”

Kit darted forward as the Goliath turned, and Jade didn’t have time to curse Kit as she followed after her. 

Kit pounded a blow onto his back, and a sickly orange blood began to ooze out. Jade froze as he moved, faster than anything his size should allow, and slashed Kit on the side.

“NO!” Jade yelled.

Kit let out a pained cry and staggered backward, falling to her knees. Her hand clutched her side and when she pulled it back, it was stained red.

Jade let out a primal roar, her vision blinded by rain as she advanced towards the Goliath. She parried his first crushing blow as he focused on her instead of the gasping, kneeling Kit. It vibrated her entire skeleton and Jade braced and rolled out of it to prevent herself from sinking several inches into the muddy ground. She swung her sword at his legs and he easily parried and flung another strike. Jade ducked, his broadsword whistling over her head.

The only sound Jade could hear was the pounding rain, and she blinked to try to clear her vision. Her boots squelched with each step, the mud trying to hold her against the earth. In the short moments of battle, the ground had turned from a meadow into a mud pile.

The only hope she had of winning this fight was her speed. The Goliath could move fast, but only in short spurts. All her training against the larger knights of the Pacalcade, from childhood through adolescence, were for this moment.

They locked blades, Jade’s arm groaning from the weight he threw behind it and Jade spun out, dodging out of the way of his next ferocious downward strike. She stabbed forward and he batted the blade away like it was an annoying wasp and then rammed his shoulder forward. Jade slashed at it as she dodged. Orange globs sputtered out as he howled. 

He slashed at her feet and she jumped, letting the blade fly uselessly under her. He followed through with his fist and knocked her to the ground so hard she couldn’t breath. 

The air wouldn’t enter her lungs, and she stared up at the gray sky, choking on nothing, hand scrambling on her stomach.

The rain was beautiful.

The Goliath growled at her, blocking her view of the heavens, and his misshapen jaw and innumerable teeth contorted the grin on his face. Jade swallowed, she wasn’t scared to die, but her last view wasn’t going to be of this.

She twisted her neck, where was Kit?

There was a scream that made all her hair stand on end. Jade looked up, mouth open as Kit, arms locked and chest heaving, blocked the Goliath’s sword from severing her head.

“Don’t you dare,” Kit gritted out.

In one fluid motion, she elbowed the Goliath and ducked. His sword sailed over her, and he stumbled off balance. Jade could only watch as Kit stood the second the blade left her airspace and hacked cleanly through his neck.

His body crumpled to the ground in unison with Kit’s.

Kit’s hand finds Jade’s on her torso and gives it a weak squeeze. “Jade.”

“No, Kit!” Jade’s tears mix with the rain water on her face. “No.”

“Jade,” Kit’s eyes bore into her, “It’s not a matter of if it’s a matter-”

“No, you can’t die on me! I order you not to.”

“I-”

“Why did you go? We had a plan.” Jade can’t think of anything else.

Kit closes her eyes with a grimace, “I thought I had it, he turned, and I,” Her voice falters.

“Open your eyes, Princess.” Jade demands and Kit’s eyes flutter open at her voice. They can’t seem to focus and Jade leans over and presses a kiss to Kit’s cheek.

“Stay with me.”

Kit blinks in response and Jade casts for anything to keep her awake. 

“Today, in the fight? What did we learn?”

Kit tries to smile, “To listen to Jade.”

Jade's voice breaks, “And how many times will you have to learn this?”

“Hopefully, once more.” Each word is delivered with a laboring breath and a tear falls onto Kit’s forehead.

“Kit,” Jade’s heart shatters.

Kit’s hand squeezes Jade’s arm above where she’s pressing against the wound. Jade only notices because she watches it happen, the grip so light it could be the rustling of the wind. “I thought I had an opening,” Kit defends herself, only a quarter of her petulant tone leaking into her voice, “His back was turned.”

“You weren’t wearing the Cuirass.”

“I don’t need the Cuirass.” Kit says and then groans as she squeezes her eyes shut, her teeth baring as she tries to keep from screaming.

“I know, I know,” Jade says, “But you were acting like you were, like it was a good idea to go against the Goliath one on one when I was right there. I was counting down.”

Kit lets out a sharp breath and Jade isn’t sure if it’s from pain or in agreement.

“I just need you to tell me that this won’t happen again.”

“It won’t.” Kit says but her eyes are round, and a bloody hand clasps Jade’s. “Jade.”

“No, Kit.” Jade says.

“Jade,” Kit’s voice is soft, the rain almost drowning it out. “Please. I love you.”

Jade feels a mass of tears begin to fall on her already wet face. “We aren’t doing this. You’re going to be okay. You will.”

Jade takes another glance at Kit’s bandage and fruitlessly strips off another piece of her undershirt. She throws the used bandage to the growing pile of scarlet rags.

“Jade,” Kit croaks. “I love you.”

Jade leans down and kisses her, their faces wet from the rain and tears. She leans her forehead against Kit’s, “You can’t do this to me.”

“You are the most amazing person I know,” Kit croaks out, “You will do amazing things. You don’t need to-”

“You will pull through,” Jade commands.

Kit’s eyes seem to fade, “Jade-”

“No, you will get through this. I need you too,” Jade cries.

Kit lets out a heavy breath “You don’t need me, you never have. Don’t,” Kit closes her eyes again and her own tears fall, “Don’t forget me, okay? But there’s a wide world out there, okay, don’t waste your life mourning me.”

“What?! No, Kit, stop!”

“Don’t punish yourself,” Kit says, “This is my fault. Promise me, this isn’t your fault, it’s mine. Okay?”

“No!” She should have known that Kit would move when he turned. She should have followed.

Kit’s breathing becomes ragged and her eyelids flicker. “Please?”

“Fine,” Jade cries, “I can make that deal. It’s your fault. Just keep your eyes open” 

It tastes like ash in her mouth.

“Good, good.” Kit’s voice fades and her eyes close, her chest heaving with each breath.

“Stay with me! Please, stay with me!” Jade clutches Kit to her chest and feels her own body shake as she cries.

Jade opens her eyes at the sudden light shining through her eyelids. It’s from the tracking stone she’d taken out of her bag. It glowing only meant one thing, someone was close. Jade stares down at Kit, eyes fluttering and chest heaving and carefully disentangles herself.

“Forgive me. I need to check.” Jade whispers with a press of her lips to Kit’s forehead, and grabs the stone, avoiding glancing at Kit who’s staring at her with pained eyes and shaky breaths.

She runs to the entrance, praying that it’s Willow or Elora. There’s a crash in the distance and Jade isn’t sure if it’s thunder, their friends, or, her bloodied hands flail for the sword at her waist, the regiment that arrived with the Goliath. If they’d taken the stone, Jade casts a quick glance back at the pale form of Kit and swallows.

She’d rather it be the regiment than thunder.

“Hello?!” She calls out again, one eye on the flaring stone. There’s nothing and she yells again, “IS ANYONE THERE?”

“KIT! JADE!” She hears a faint yell over the rain as the stone flares again.

“OVER HERE!” Jade yells. “COME QUICK! PLEASE!” The rain pours, momentarily blinding her, and Jade stumbles back into the cave, yelling, “WE’RE IN A CAVE. KIT NEEDS HELP!”

Like an angel, Elora appears, almost floating along the ground as she races towards Jade. 

“Jade,” She breathes as she enters the cave and hugs her.

“There’s no time,” Jade tugs her along, “Kit is, she’s-”

“I found the Goliath and a lot of-”

There aren’t any words to say as they hover over the still body of Kit, eyes closed and a puddle of red at her side.

“Do something, please!” Jade pleads as she falls to her knees and clutches Kit to her chest. Her hands shake as she shoves at Kit’s tunic, trying to find a heartbeat.

“I don’t know much healing magic,” Elora gulps.

“You helped Graydon!”

“That was corruption, not dea-”

“ELORA!” Tears block Jade’s vision, “ANYTHING! IT'S KIT!”

She couldn’t find a heartbeat. The only one she could hear was the roar of her own.

“I don’t-”

“Just do anything!” Jade yells. “PLEASE!”

Her voice blocks the sound of the pounding rain, echoing in the cave of Jade’s future nightmares, and Elora tearfully nods and drops to her knees. She holds shaking hands above Kit’s chest, and begins to chant in a language that Jade still doesn’t understand. Jade stares at Kit’s face and presses soft kisses along her forehead, the skin damp and cool from the rain.

“Please,” Jade begs as Elora’s hands begin to glow. “Please Kit, you can’t be,” She can’t continue and pleads, “Please. Just wake up. Wake up.”

There’s a blinding boom that splits Jade’s ears and she barely keeps herself from falling over by clutching onto Kit. She blinks, her vision taking several moments to be anything other than spots and stares at Elora, a couple feet away flat on her back, looking stunned.

Jade’s eyes have troubling focusing as she looks down at the stillness of Kit’s chest.

“I’m sorry.” Elora crawls over, tears pouring down her cheeks as they stare in silence.

It’s the end of the world.

Jade buries her face into Kit’s shoulder and feels Elora wrap an arm around her.

“I’m sorry,” Elora says again.

“It’s not your fault,” Jade mutters. It’s her own. Kit may have made her promise, but Jade knows she should have done more, from Kit charging to leaving Kit alone to die. How is she supposed to leave this cave? Maybe the regiment could come after all.

She’s Kit’s protector, and Kit is dead.

“Fuck!” Jade hears, “I’m a ghost!”

Jade sits up and stares down, mouth agape. Kit’s blinking back tears and staring between Jade and Elora.

“I guess I kinda deserve this.” Kit sighs, “Of course I’d be cursed to come back as a ghost.”

Jade chokes on her saliva as she presses a kiss to Kit’s forehead, she’s barely able to mumble out, “Kit, you’re not a ghost.”

“You can hear me? You can see me?” Kit looks frantically between them.

 Elora hugs Kit tightly, a little awkward with Jade holding Kit from behind. “You’re alive! I did it! I can’t believe it!”

“I’m alive?” Kit chokes out hand shaking as it picks over the makeshift bandages. Kit pulls them away to see a nasty scab down the line of her torso and she looks between them. “How?”

“I don’t really know,” Elora says, “Jade demanded I try and so, I just,” She shrugs looking down as pink highlights her cheeks, “I focused on how much I love you, how I don’t want to be without you and the words just poured out of me.”

“Elora,” Kit smiles at her, eyes watering, “I, shit, I love you too.”

Elora grins, burying her head on Kit’s chest as Jade presses another kiss to the crown of Kit’s head.

“Don’t ever do that again.” Jade mutters, “I don’t care what’s going on, you better not do that again.”

“Jade-”

Elora smiles at them as she stands up, grabbing the ruined linens and Jade’s bag, while Kit turns so she’s facing Jade.

“I mean it,” Jade says, “You were dying and,” tears fall down her face again, her eyes stinging from the rain, sweat, and dust.

Kit wipes a couple away, “I’m alive.”

Jade buries her face into Kit’s shoulder and Kit presses a kiss to the side of her head. 

“Promise me,” Jade demands.

“Promise what?”

“That you won’t go half cocked against into battle. Especially not without the Cuirass.”

“Jade,” Kit grumbles.

“Promise me,” Jade looks up and stares at her, expression unflinching.

“I promise.” Kit rolls her eyes. Jade bites her lips, but it is enough for now. Kit finds her lips with her own and Jade presses a hard kiss back.

“I thought you were dead.” Jade says between kisses, pressing Kit into the ground. I thought this would never happen again, doesn’t need to be said.

“I might have been,” Kit says breathlessly, “For a moment. But I’m not anymore.”

She places Jade’s hand on her chest right over her heart and Jade can feel a steady thump.

“Not anymore.” Jade agrees and Kit lets out a whimper as Jade bites her lip.

“Um, guys?” Elora says, “I’m still here.”

“Right,” Jade pulls away and Kit whines. “We should go back to the others.”

Elora’s face is bright red as she rolls her eyes, linens clean and now packed. Jade helps Kit up, hands hovering and places one more kiss against Kit’s lips, her own heart still not quite back to normal.

She’s alive, Jade reminds herself, she’s alive. She’s here and she’s with me. Alive.

The world turns again.

[starfruitgirlie]

anti-depression/anxiety/adhd

what's up gamers, I've made a post before about combatting executive dysfunction and I was inspired to make an addition to it.

I am NOT a mental health professional, I am 17, the definition of stupid. However, I have been diagnosed with depression, anxiety, and ADHD and I have been 13-14 before so I have been there and done that. If I can make anyone's life a bit easier I want to. I also feel like at that age I didn't like hearing mental health advice from adults. I felt like they didn't really understand me and they didn't fully realize what I was going through. Before I age out of understanding how sucky being a teenager is, I want to pass on this information. I am also still learning and improving so this is also for me.

DISCLAIMER!!!! I am prescribed medication to help with my mental illness, tips gotten from strangers online cannot replace the help of a mental health professional. I believe this information would be useful only to those who want tips along with the professional help they receive. Ik this is long, I just don't want anybody to think that mental illness is something that you can turn on and off and that simply establishing a routine will fix it. reach out to your school counselor or a trusted adult first and not the internet.

do things out of spite/a challenge. I grew up a pretty competitive kid so if anybody said "psh wanna bet?" all prior apathy evaporated from my body and I was determined to prove them wrong. When I put this into use it's usually like "I bet you can't put away all that laundry in 30 minutes" or "of course I can clean this bathroom I'll do it super awesome and it'll be the best cleanest bathroom ever". I advise though, DON'T MAKE IT A DIG AT YOURSELF OR BULLY YOURSELF INTO DOING THINGS IT DOESN'T WORK!! Ex: don't say "you can't even brush your teeth I bet you won't get up to do it" that just makes you feel bad. Instead you can trade this for a reward system. I keep smarties in my room as a sort of dog treat system for myself. I did something good, I can have it. What stops me from eating it without any prior circumstances is the fact I am challenging myself and I would see it as a reward I didn't earn. This appeals to my executive dysfunction and ADHD

this one is more ADHD specific but a lot of the times there will be small chores around the house I need to get done like oh I need to take that laundry down to my room or oh I need to bring that cup to the kitchen. 99% of the time I am kidding myself when I say "i'll remember to do it later". no you won't. Instead, the second I see it, I just do it. It's not the most efficient way to get things done, but I find once I'm in the zone and I've done a task I can do more tasks. No matter what I'm doing if I see a bottle, I just get up and take it to the kitchen. Doesn't matter if I was doing homework, I thought about the task so I am going to do it before I can forget about it and then consequentially feel bad about not doing it later.

routine. my mom told me so many times to establish a routine because it would make me feel better and because she told me to do it I didn't want to. It felt stupid like that's not going to make me feel better. unfortunately, it does help. humans are a lot more dumb than we think and we thrive off of routine and when our brains associate something with time of day, it can remarkably change your productivity and your health. What got me to do it was stupid but, acting like I was a youtuber doing a nightly routine. youtubers don't show themselves scrolling on the couch or falling asleep without brushing their teeth, they have a system and they do all the steps. I get out my phone and record myself for an imaginary audience, the whole "what's up guys welcome back here is my nightly routine". It's easier to do it now without my phone because It's becoming habit, but having an imaginary audience helped motivate me to start. It also just makes me feel more prepared to sleep. When I do the tasks my brain associates that are right before I sleep, I will be able to fall asleep easier.

4. so as a younger teen my parents put a restriction on my phone so I couldn't be on any app besides call or text past 10pm (which I still have but mostly because I never asked them to take it off and bc I have no sense of time). initially, this was annoying but this was a lifesaver for my sleep schedule (but I can never admit that to them because they can't think that they are right). The only time it was inconvenient for me was when I was working late shifts at work and I couldn't google or see the weather. If your parents/guardians don't do this for your phone, do it yourself! AND PUT IN A SCREENTIME PASSWORD! Make it a random set of numbers that aren't connected to any passwords or series of numbers you use regularly. make it random and then write it down and put it in a drawer under a notebook. When the time comes you will want to keep scrolling but then you won't remember the password. if you're anything like me you'll be too lazy to go get it and you might as well just get ready for bed. As a 13 year old I despised the stupid restrictions and I thought I could manage it on my own. I had the power to yeah, but with recovering and managing mental illness it would be tough, so having an outside force helped

5. This might be a personal thing, but I can never remember to manage my tasks when I record them digitally. I always have to write out a physical copy in my notebook or on a sticky note. The act of writing it out for some reason helps me retain the information more and its not on my phone where there are a million other shapes and colors to distract me

6. talk to yourself. here me out okay, being in your head can make you feel insane and your thoughts are all over the place. I find that talking outloud to myself (when I'm alone of course) helps a lot. Even if it's just a sentence it can help. Chatting to yourself like you're your own friend is awesome for self image. I realized a lot of the pressures I was putting on myself I would not put on my friends. Why do I have to be this level of acceptable when I love my friend regardless if she got a good grade on that test? I know it sounds cringe but to be cringe is to be free and the sooner you realize this the less awful highschool will be.

this was already super long but I feel like It's hard to condense this without properly conveying my message also I am lazy and I don't edit my posts

I hope someone found this useful! being a teenager with mental illness can suck so hard and I want to make it better. I was 13 in 2020, I have been through it.

[dailyrandomwriter]

Day 394

I realized that I had talked a lot about encouraging myself to use my habit building and mindfulness journal, but I didn’t mention what that means.

In my brain, I also call this journal my “Trying to Adult” journal, because a lot of this are things that I should already be doing at my age. It’s a weird thing to say because I have a lot of medical needs, which I take care of all the time. The problem is, those needs, I’ve had since I was a baby. When I was building those habits, I had my parents watching over me. 

And I may talk about those at some point because they’re really interesting memories.

The point is though, I had help building those habits, so building anything new is very hard. Though there are one or two skills that I should have had from childhood, but habits like flossing weren't a high priority when you’re in the hospital. I’m frankly amazed that brushing my teeth is a habit I have at all with the amount of times I had an extended stay with the doctors. 

So I’m building these habits in two ways. The first, is with monthly trackers, weekly check-ins and monthly wrap-ups. 

Monthly trackers are just small grid calendars where you add a dot on the day of the week you did the habit. You get to see visually how often you did that habit for that month, and if you only do that habit on certain days of the week, you can black out that whole column day. I’m told this is also useful because if there are particular days you tend to skip that habit when you shouldn’t, you’ll notice that trend, which can help in planning accordingly.

Weekly Check-Ins is the end of the week page where I note how many times that week I did my habit. This weekly check-in is also designed to celebrate what I did manage to do. Like if I met any of my monthly goals that week, I can put it there. I also put in when was the last time I had an infection, because any day I don’t have an infection is a good day.

Monthly Check-Ins count habits by total amount done so far. So the idea is to keep a continuous count of how many times I did the thing. Like the Weekly Check-Ins, it’s designed to celebrate what I got done, and there’s a section for rewards I won that week.

That’s right.

I’m bribing myself!

Let me be clear, I’m not the cleanest person ever. I tend to not notice dust, it drives my mother crazy. So instead of having a cleaning monthly tracker (because that wasn’t going to work), I made a Bi-Weekly Bingo instead. I’ve broken down my chores into 25 squares, noting that mopping is extra hard for me so that’s only going to show up once a month.

From here on out, I’m not allowed to buy anything from my favourite bakery, ice cream shop and no stationary for me. On each bingo card there are three rewards. The first line I get, I get a sweet treat from my favourite bakery. First diagonal line, I get to buy an ice cream taco from my favourite ice cream shop. And if I complete the card before the two weeks are up, I get stationary from the specific stationary shop listed on the rewards line. Why a specific stationary shop? Because all stationary shops have different amounts you need to buy before they give you free shipping, which is the limit amount I can buy for that reward. 

I did this… primarily to limit the amount of money I would spend. As well as the amount of stationary I can buy.

I’ve already decided… by the way. I saw this really cute tape set of Halloween black cats and I am going to earn those cats!

[spaghetticat3899]

I had quite a few reasons behind the design choices, but wanted to put the text wall on a separate post, just for convenience. These are derived from a mix of in-game details, things in QnAs, and just personal choices.

Same warnings as before! MAJOR STORY SPOILERS

Curly

Is extra fluffy around his hands/feet because he’s better adapted for cooler temps (derived from his liking of snow sports). His fur his notably thicker than the rest, but not very long. (also could be why he’s not a fan of sweets, preferring blander foods since not much grows in cold climates)

His curly mane is a familial trait, hence his last name; most of his family members have extremely curly manes.

Has what’d later be called a “spacer tail”, which aids in 0g by being prehensile and flexible. Part of this is partially why he pursued this career path, other than just personal interest.

His claw sheathes are smaller due to extra “padding” in his hands/feet

He intentionally cuts his whiskers, says it “keeps [him] focused”. Due to this, though, he’s pheromone-blind, which inhibits one-on-one communication. Some suspect he might’ve plucked before starting this extremely unusual practice.

Jimmy

Has large, protruding fangs. His smile is unnerving due to his teeth being oddly long (*and… perhaps familiar?) *(I based his fangs on Erebus and Gula, two of the main villains of Daybreak. This isn’t meant to indicate genetic relation, I just thought they both had fun chompers.)

His facial markings are based directly off how the face on the actual model is lit + the scruff

He and Curly have very little light markings. Coincidence? Maybe to show connection?

His hands are callused due to the various odd jobs he’s done throughout his life. Scars are old and new. The whiskers on the left side of his face were plucked off during an incident; they are still damaged, due to how long they take to grow back.

Jimmy’s tail was docked in order keep it out of the way during work. He’s rather envious of Curly being able to keep his. (Alternatively, I could make it so he was just born that way, I don’t know)

His claws are somewhat dull and poorly taken care of

Swansea

He remains pudgy, it’s a sin to indicate otherwise. Since grox are different from humans, though, the fatty deposits gather semi-differently. Joints have some extra padding near the ends, the feet are larger to accommodate the extra mass, the neck+stomach are most obviously thicker, since those have much more room to grow without the internalized exoskeleton containing most of it.

Swansea has protruding fangs as well, thick and semi-curved. These aren’t representative of anything, I just felt it was fitting.

Swansea’s whiskers are short, but more plentiful. None of them seem to get caught in things and he seems to have a pretty decent awareness of what’s around him at any given time.

Yes, the dark stripe down his abdomen is a representation of his chest hair, as it’s actually visible in his actual model! This fur isn’t that, though, it’s the same texture as the rest of it.

His hands are callused and semi-scarred, being old and in the field awhile will do that.

Speaking of old, he’s visibly older than the others! Unlike Erebus-era grox, he actually aged, having wrinkles and shortening fur around the face/extremities.

His tail is missing the last segment due to a workplace accident. He told Daisuke about it when asked, hoping that he might scare Daisuke out of that kind of work.

His claws are short, dull, and no longer retract fully. When fully extended, they actually help with manipulating objects precisely.

His limbs have light speckling on them, based off the spots on his model.

The markings on his back are vaguely based off swan wings, and swimming swans

Daisuke

Youngest of the crew, so has the cleanest fur, teeth, and mane.

Unlike the rest of the crew, his radiophores align near-perfectly with his eyes, rather than hooking downward.

The shorter patch on his face resembles a cartoon sun…

His whiskers were based somewhat off of flower stigmas

His limb patterns are based somewhat off tarantulas’

his birthmarks are there, and have a few matching specks on the limbs as well

the eye color change was meant to match the trees on his shirt (which were then made into a Zuvian flowering plant)

Anya

“Blue” color morph. Seemed fitting, seeing as she is depicted with blue in-game. Also made her resemble the night screen by chance! She has a light spot on her chest is meant to resemble the moon.

Her markings are based off bobcats and grey tuxedos. The eyespots on her ears are meant to somewhat represent her constant feeling of unease and need for watchfulness. (Plus, are just cute)

Her claws are short due to biting, but would normally be short as to not injure patients. She has a tendency to pluck fur/whiskers as well, but has been trying to break the habit a long while.

Despite some of her whiskers being damaged, she can read others extremely well.

Being the only gamergate on board, she is one of [if not the] tallest members on board. Her more prominent brows often get covered by her bangs.

Her eyes are high-set, and her mouth low-set. This was the only way I could make Anya look like… Anya. If you look closely, you can see the flat “bridge��� between the eyes is crooked, since her nose is crooked on her model.

Being the nurse, she’s the most hygienic of the crew, and might outcompete Daisuke in fang-cleanliness.

Her ear tips droop and are less “pointed”, which is a trait not seen in the modern grox populous.

Her pupils are often highly dilated, but Jimmy wouldn’t know this.

Scars on her abdomen and limbs are not old, and not accidental (not self-inflicted!)

Also has a “spacer tail”, which she doesn’t often bring attention to. She sometimes uses it to loosely grab/pull things, but more often relies on her arms instead. On Zuvius-9, she’d hang from the ceiling with it, it helped her study better, oddly. Her and Curly could 100% “hug” their tails, but wether or not they did, I won’t say

Post-crash, she was somewhat able to tell Curly’s mood (probably just PAIN), but quickly damaged her whiskers too much to. Jimmy could probably get a hint of this too, but likely ignored it out of spite.

Mouthgroxing - (Mouthwashing, but grox)

[major spoiler warning]

Here’s the refs of everyone, fur patterns and all. They’re all Daybreak-style Grox, which I thought would not only be a fun exercise in character designing, but semi-fitting.

(Daybreak is a comic/story by @grox-empire, these designs were directly inspired by her art)

The first two drawings were mostly conceptualizing the designs, hence why they’re a little odd-looking. The finalized designs are the ones in the massive reference image. Yes, that one image did devolve into just folding in on itself about my views of Curly, oops.

Anyways, Mouthwashing is a good game I like a lot, which of course means I must froth at the mouth over it, mix them with other things I like, and draw it ad nauseum. Enjoy

[thesunicarusfellfor]

Hello! I'm in love with the way you write c! Ranboo like hsgsj- amazing! So I would like a request Yandare c! Ranboo and tubbo with a soft reader that is oblivious on how they act twords them but loves them unconditionaly (just fluff please maybe maybe put a Micheal seen in there as well because Micheal is the best character 😌)

I think this is the best compliment I have ever received... Thank you so much🤍🖤

I didn't know whether or not to do headcanons or a full-length fic, so I went with a shorter story if that's alright. ^^ if it's not feel free to send another request!

FYI THIS CAN BE SEEN AS PLATONIC OR ROMANTIC

Too Sweet (For This World) Yandere!C!Ranboo x F!Reader x Yandere!C!Tubbo

It was very common for you to see something out of the corner of your eye, but when you looked, you only saw a bunch of purple particles drifting slowly towards the earth due to gravity. You just assumed there were quite a few endermen still hanging around Snowchester, or some of the goats had come down from the mountains when you saw small little horns peeking out from behind bushes.

There were a couple times a day where you accidentally and very conveniently bumped into Ranboo out in the crater of L'Manberg or Tubbo when walking around Snowchester. It honestly was funny to you that you always seemed to bump into them when you were feeling sad or lonely. Plus, after talking to them and spending time with them, your problems almost magically seemed to disappear!

Such as, there was one time when you were helping clean up the red vines around buildings and Fundy was nagging at you for being so slow or bad at doing everything. After storming away and ranting to Ranboo about it on the verge of tears, Fundy practically scrambled up to you the next day shaking and almost crying, apologizing for every single thing he's ever said or done.

Huh... Maybe he felt that bad about it to the point where he was crying?

Although Fundy never said anything mean to you again, he also stopped hanging around you completely.

When you mentioned this to Tubbo, he explained that Fundy must not have been a real friend and that he and Ranboo would always be there for you before anyone else.

Once the mansion was built, the two platonic husbands eagerly invited you to stay with them, even saying they had Foolish make a room specifically for you! At first, you quite enjoyed your home around L'manberg, but then one day you returned home to a wall of your home completely destroyed by vines, deeming it unlivable. Although a tad convenient..

Tubbo and Ranboo had heard about it through your sobs when you called them, saying you had no clue what to do anymore. They had arrived at your side in almost minutes and quickly helped you pack and move everything to the mansion.

"I thought Snowchester was like... Half a day's walk away from here..." You sniffed, rubbing your red and puffy eyes. The two men of greatly varying heights tensed up momentarily.

"We were in the area." They both blurted out at the same time before glancing at each other.

Tubbo cleared his throat first, "I was in the nether, but luckily for you, I was close to the old L'manberg portal!" He smiled softly at you as you three walked away from your old home.

"M-Me too!" Ranboo coughed awkwardly, causing Tubbo to shoot him an odd look that you decided to brush off, "Now, uh, come on! Michael needs to meet his new mother!"

You blinked in surprise at the new title but didn't question it much, assuming it was simply just a title. Unbeknownst to you, your two best friends already thought you were part of their platonic relationship, despite you never agreeing nor denying, or them even asking.

It took a few days, but the zombie piglin warmed up to you and practically saw you as another one of his parents, which made Ranboo and Tubbo extremely happy. Instead of placing you into one of the regular rooms, they had Foolish turn the basement into two heavily secured rooms a few days before your house had been destroyed, strangely enough, and even designed one perfectly to your liking!

After washing the fruits you had, you walked towards the bookshelf and pulled on the fake book that caused the shelf to swing open. You walked down the quartz stairs after shutting the hidden door, then made your way up to one of the two doors with a pink sign with 'Michael' written in yellow cursive paint. Punching in the code, the iron door slid open and you stepped in before closing it behind you.

A loud cooing grunt was heard and the sound of quiet tapping echoed through the room before a pair of arms wrapped around your leg. "Hello, Michael." You giggled softly as Michael made grabbing hands up towards the bowl of fruit. Placing it down on the table, the child eagerly ran over and began munching on the food as you brushed over the books on the shelves to find one you haven't read to Michael before. "What about... The story of Persephone?"

A disappointed grunt was your only response.

"Guess I did read that one... Hm... Oh! What about the story of Icarus?" This time his response was a happy squeak and tippy taps of his hooves against the warm quartz floors. You sat down in the rocking chair and waited until the child scrambled over and jumped into your lap.

You opened the book and began reading to him for an hour until your eyes slowly slid shut to the quiet snores of the child of your two best friends, who at this point was beginning to see you as a mother.

Quiet 'meh' sounds and 'vrrr'ing noises and a dim flash woke you up from your spot in the rocking chair. Cracking open your eyes, your arms shifted around the nether hybrid as you saw Tubbo holding a camera making happy bleating noises, while Ranboo, who was the source of the buzzing noises, took the book you had been reading from your limp hand to put it back on the shelf.

"What time is it?" You murmured softly to keep the child asleep as you rubbed the back of your stiff and sore neck.

"It's about 5:30pm. Still rather early. Tubbo walked over and gave you a gentle yet affectionate headbutt while he scooped Michael up from your lap to bring him to bed. This caused an odd whining noise to come from the enderman hybrid before he quickly walked over and rested his forehead against yours, resting it there for a few moments before pulling back, his cheeks flushed the same colours as his eyes.

You giggled softly and gave him a gentle pat on the head as he helped you up. He held onto one of your hands as Tubbo eagerly went for the other, jokingly sticking his tongue out at Ranboo who gave a noise of mock offense, causing you three to giggle softly as you left Michael's room and went upstairs.

Tubbo and Ranboo weren't big fans of you leaving the basement on your own, and you were rarely allowed to leave the mansion even with the two boys at your sides. The former president told you it was because he heard rumours of Technoblade searching around for all the members of his cabinet back when he was in charge of L'Manberg, and he just wanted to protect you.

You saw no problems with his story as it was extremely believable. Your history with Technoblade hadn't been the cleanest and he would've definitely taken one of your canon lives back during the attack on L'Manberg, had a stray black and white firework not saved you that day. It had fired off and must've swerved a way that wasn't predicted, because it hit Technoblade hard enough in the chest to knock him away from you.

You don't remember much of that day, except for Ranboo immediately running over to you and dragging you away from the destruction and chaos. Thanks to him, you were almost completely scar free and standing proudly at three canons lives.

A gentle hand on your shoulder brought you back to reality and you saw two sets of eyes staring at you with concern. "Hey... Are you feeling okay?" Ranboo asked softly, tilting your head up to place his free hand against your forehead, "See. I told you she should be getting more sunlight, Tubbo!"

"I'm okay, I'm okay!" You laughed softly at their worry, rubbing your thumbs along the back of their hands, "Just... Remembering the war with Dream and Techno..."

"What about it?" Tubbo asked, bringing you into the living room to sit down with your friends on either side of you.

You pursed your lips together for a moment as you looked at the ground, "Just how... Scary Techno is. And how he was about to kill me without a care about who or what I was."

Angered growling and seething noises came from Ranboo and Tubbo as you felt their grasps tighten around your hands, almost to a painful degree. You looked up and saw their expressions stone-cold and steely although vastly different from each other.

Ranboo's green eye was purple, and the black tone of his skin was beginning to seep into the side with the lack of colour. The corners of his mouth were slowly splitting open wider and wider as his lips parted, allowing you to see the glowing purple colour inside his mouth.

Tubbo's was less obvious. His eyes were blank but also had a bright fire, one burning for revenge, reflected in them. His ears weren't flicking and neither was his tail, his entire body stiff except for a faint sound giving away the fact that his teeth were grinding together.

As much as you tried to endure it, the grip became too harsh and you couldn't help but give a small pained gasp. This caused all physical contact with you to suddenly vanish as the two boys immediately flung themselves away from you, horror and fear in their eyes.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!"

"Are you okay?! Do you need an ice pack?!"

"Or a bandage from my claws?!"

They were both kneeling on the ground in front of you with both of your hands in their grasps again. They repeatedly turned your hands in their own, testing the joints and checking for marks or bruising. "Boys, boys!" You laughed softly, placing your hands on their heads to ruffle their hair gently. You pulled your left hand adorned with two beautiful rings and held it up for them to see, flexing it and moving it around, "See? Perfectly fine. No pain whatsoever!"

While they seemed to have calmed down a lot, they still seemed to be extremely upset and guilty. "I'm still going to get an ice pack... We don't want our wife to be injured..." Tubbo murmured as he quickly got up and walked towards the kitchen.

"I will get started on dinner. And as an apology, I'm making your favourite. (F/f)." Ranboo tried to be a little more upbeat than Tubbo, but you could still see the small amounts of guilt as he turned and followed after the goat hybrid.

Sighing softly at their overreactions, you leaned back against the couch...

Before doing a double-take.

Adorned with rings?!

You quickly flung yourself forward again and looked at your left hand. On your ring finger were two diamond rings, one gold with a green gemstone, and the other silver with a black gemstone, both glistening a faint purple from enchantments...

...

When did these get put on you- wait... Did Tubbo say... wife?

[lilyofthestyx]

I saw request we’re open for RE8. Could I please have a fem! reader who tries to get rid of Ethan Winters because he keeps causing distress to her wife, Alcina? Please and thank you.

yes. yes you most certainly can have this.

i have been DYING to write about some alcina x fem!reader for the sole reason being that i have NEVER questioned my sexuality so hard since this damn game came out so yeah.

ps: wrote this in first person hope that's okay!

pps: there is some major plot deviation because.... i felt like it. idk. it fit??

DISCLAIMER: I do not claim to own Resident Evil or its characters or plot. CAPCOM please don't come for me.

here you go love >:)

word count: 1.57k

"Girls!" I call, closing the door behind me. "My darlings, I'm home!" Shifting the grip on the parcel of items from the village, I look around.

Usually one of the girls would've answered by now. Bela is usually here to greet me.

She's probably with her mother.

I shrug off my fur coat, handing it to one of the maids. She takes it and lays it over the back of a chair. I can tell by the large, gnarled scar on her forearm who she is "Marienna," I mumble, staring up the stairway. "...where're the girls?"

Marienna's face pales as she stares back at me. Her mouth opens and closes like a trout. "Well?" I snap, "D'you know where they are or-?!"

A crash resounds down the hallway. Alcina's voice tears from her bedroom, followed by a shuddering sob.

I'm hurrying up the stairs in seconds, abandoning the parcel. My body collides with the door- forcing it open.

Our bedroom is destroyed- the vanity broken to pieces. Alcina's soft hands cling to the golden wood, thumb rubbing against the varnish. Slowly, her eyes trail up to me. A smile nearly as broken as the vanity crosses her painted lips. "...I loved this damned mirror," she mumbles, eyes turning down to the broken pieces again.

"What happened, darling?" I coo, stepping over the pieces to stand beside her. My hand on her shoulder, I turn her face gently towards mine. Tears are streaming down her face- leaving jagged streaks of mascara. "Are you alright? What happen-"

Alcina's body tenses under my touch. Trembling, her grip tightens on the wood. It cracks before being wrenching in twain in her hands. "It was that stupid manthing!" She hisses, standing back up to her full height.

"...what 'manthing'?" I ask, "Your brother?"

Alcina ignores me, leaning back down to pluck one of the larger fragments before throwing it across the room. "He laid his filthy paws on our daughters!"

My mind races as it struggles to understand what the hell is happening.

Manthing.

It's not Heisenberg. He'd never lay a finger on the girls.

Some brutish village slug- that's got to be it.

But why? Why on earth would they...?

It doesn't matter.

As Alcina leans down to grab another bit, I grab her hand. "...are... are the girls okay? Where are they?"

A shuddering sigh passes her lips. "...they're all together," she whispers, wiping tears from her face hastily. "Bela... she was... that disgusting beast, he nearly killed her!"

"What?" I mutter, eyebrows drawing together as I step back. "...what... well is she okay? What happened? Is she going to be alright?!"

Alcina sighs again. "...she'll be alright," her hand wraps around mine gently. "Her sisters found her. Brought her to me."

"Where is she now?," I ask, tightening my grip around her finger. "My baby girl... where...?"

Alcina smiles warmly, getting down onto one knee. Her fingers brush back the hair from my eyes. Tears fall quickly down my face as I realize what could've happened if Cassandra and Daniela weren't nearby. "She's with her sisters," she answers gently. "Resting... waiting for her mother to get back with the flowers and silk from the village."

A cold laugh passes my lips before I sniffle. "...her mother should've been there. Should've never left."

Alcina's face tightens. "You can't blame yourself, darling," she mumbles, turning my chin up so I can face her. "No one knew this... Ethan Winters... would be so hideously vindictive."

I nod slowly, wiping the tears from my face. "...can I see her?"

"Of course, my love," she says, leaning in to press her lips to my cheek. "Of course."

The two of us walk down the halls to the center of the house. 'Safest place for her' Alcina had told me.

She had spoken to me the entire way over here, trying to get me out of my own head.

Bless my beloved wife for trying.

But that name. It just keeps buzzing around my mind.

Images of my hands, covered in thick blood, gripping the handle of a sickle play through my head. The blade going through the jugular of this 'Ethan Winters' and popping out the other side. Him desperate for air, choking on his own hot blood, as he watches me loom over him.

His last words will be for mercy.

His last view will be my blade.

My breath is bated as I watch him stalk through the darkness of the courtyard. In the moonlight, I can see is head is down, eyes wary as he keeps a fair grip on his pistol. The cool air lets me see him regulating his breathing- keeping him steady, keeping his pistol steady.

He's experienced.

My grip on my own weapon tightens as he stops in the gazebo. His eyes narrow as he turns around, his pistol raised. I watch in mild amusement as he whirls around, looking for something to shoot.

He's experienced, yes, but still not experienced enough.

I tug the fabric around my face higher along the bridge of my nose. Gripping my sickle, I balance on the balls of my feet.

Ethan finally relaxes, dropping his arms with his back to me.

A small smile creeps along my lips under the mask. A foolish move made by an even more foolish man.

My body slides underneath the stone railings for the stairs leading into the center of the courtyard. Untucking one of the smaller knives from my belt, I pinch it between two fingers and flick my wrist forward.

The knife goes flying- landing right between Ethan's shoulder blades. A guttural yell comes from him as he spins around to face me. In a blink, I'm up in front of him, nose brushing against his.

I can see the fear in his eyes.

I can't help my smile growing beneath the dark fabric.

Ethan raises his hand, pistol in his palm. With a tut of my lips, I shake my head and stab his hand through with my sickle. "...no, no," I mumble as he continues to scream and thrash against my hold. "There'll be none of that, I'm afraid, Mister Winters."

His teeth gritted, he hisses as my sickle is pulled from the inner part of his wrist. A bitter laugh bubbles up from my gut as he stumbles back onto the floor of the gazebo, now holding the pistol in his shaky left hand. "You can't be serious!" I giggle as Ethan pulls the trigger.

A wet squelch hits my ears as the bullet tears into my stomach. I sigh dramatically, looking down at the gushing hole in my dress. "You didn't think I was human- did you?" I ask, twirling the sickle in my hand.

"Wh- what?" Ethan mutters, eyes fixated on the bullet wound in my torso.

"I'm not," I continue, stepping closer to him as he tries to back away. Another gunshot echoes through the courtyard- the bullet landing in my left shoulder. "Not entirely, anyways."

"What the hell are you?!" Ethan yells, firing three more shots. One in the crook of my neck, one just barely grazing my temple, one lodging itself in my hip.

My jaw tightens as I hurry forward, grabbing him by the collar and throwing him back into the center of the gazebo. "I!" I snap, grabbing him again and gripping his wrist. "I... am the mother of the girl you almost killed!"

I pull another knife out of my belt. Trailing it down his lips, I smile. "And the wife... to a woman scorned." With a single swing, the knife digs into the flesh of his palm and nails it to the gazebo.

Ethan yells in pain. As I step back, his other fist cracks across my face. I stumble back. Grabbing at my cheek, I chuckle darkly. "Oh, Ethan," I coo coyly, grabbing my sickle. "You really shouldn't have done that."

I swing and watch with what could only be described as 'glee' as the blade pierces his throat. Covered in blood, the blade glistens crimson in the pale moonlight. Ethan's choked pleas are drowned out by my laughter.

"Why?" is the only word able to leave his lips without being smothered in a gush of blood.

"Because, Mister Winters," I hum, my nose brushing against his as I watch the life in his eyes flicker. "You should never have touched my family."

BONUS ENDING:

"What is that delicious smell?"

I turn around to see Alcina bending down to peek outside. A smile crosses my lips as I gesture to the mutilated corpse with the end of my sickle. "Dinner, my love," I hum, wiping off the blade with the fabric I had used for a mask. "Sorry it's not the cleanest."

Alcina scoffs and waves me off. "It's fine, _________. I'll just go let the girls know their mother brought dinner...," she pauses, eyes flicking over the gushing body. "...who was that? He smells... familiar."

"Just Ethan Winters," I answer nonchalantly.

"...y-you..." Alcina stammers, eyebrows weaving together and lips pursing. "You... when did you-?"

"He must've been tired," I continue with a small smile. "He was not nearly as difficult a kill as I thought he'd be."

"...I'll... I'll be going now."

"Okay, love," I chirp, "I'll drag him in in a second. Love you!"

Alcina's eyes are still wide, mouth slightly agape as she steps away from the doorway. "...love you too... darling."

can you tell i had a lot of fun with this?

yeah. because i did.

i hope you enjoyed! writing lady d is so much freaking fun i kid you not.

big vampy lady make brain go brr

[icarushasfallenfromthestars]

Too Sweet (For This World) Yandere!Ranboo x F!Reader x Yandere!Tubbo

Hello! I'm in love with the way you write c! Ranboo like hsgsj- amazing! So I would like a request Yandare c! Ranboo and tubbo with a soft reader that is oblivious on how they act twords them but loves them unconditionaly (just fluff please maybe maybe put a Micheal seen in there as well because Micheal is the best character 😌)

I think this is the best compliment I have ever received... Thank you so much🤍🖤

I didn't know whether or not to do headcanons or a full-length fic, so I went with a shorter story if that's alright. ^^ if it's not feel free to send another request!

FYI THIS CAN BE SEEN AS PLATONIC OR ROMANTIC

-

It was very common for you to see something out of the corner of your eye, but when you looked, you only saw a bunch of purple particles drifting slowly towards the earth due to gravity. You just assumed there were quite a few endermen still hanging around Snowchester, or some of the goats had come down from the mountains when you saw small little horns peeking out from behind bushes.

There were a couple times a day where you accidentally and very conveniently bumped into Ranboo out in the crater of L'Manberg or Tubbo when walking around Snowchester. It honestly was funny to you that you always seemed to bump into them when you were feeling sad or lonely. Plus, after talking to them and spending time with them, your problems almost magically seemed to disappear!

Such as, there was one time when you were helping clean up the red vines around buildings and Fundy was nagging at you for being so slow or bad at doing everything. After storming away and ranting to Ranboo about it on the verge of tears, Fundy practically scrambled up to you the next day shaking and almost crying, apologizing for every single thing he's ever said or done.

Huh... Maybe he felt that bad about it to the point where he was crying?

Although Fundy never said anything mean to you again, he also stopped hanging around you completely.

When you mentioned this to Tubbo, he explained that Fundy must not have been a real friend and that he and Ranboo would always be there for you before anyone else.

Once the mansion was built, the two platonic husbands eagerly invited you to stay with them, even saying they had Foolish make a room specifically for you! At first, you quite enjoyed your home around L'Manberg, but then one day you returned home to a wall of your home completely destroyed by vines, deeming it unlivable. Although a tad convenient..

Tubbo and Ranboo had heard about it through your sobs when you called them, saying you had no clue what to do anymore. They had arrived at your side in almost minutes and quickly helped you pack and move everything to the mansion.

"I thought Snowchester was like... Half a day's walk away from here..." You sniffed, rubbing your red and puffy eyes. The two men of greatly varying heights tensed up momentarily.

"We were in the area." They both blurted out at the same time before glancing at each other.

Tubbo cleared his throat first, "I was in the nether, but luckily for you, I was close to the old L'Manberg portal!" He smiled softly at you as you three walked away from your old home.

"M-Me too!" Ranboo coughed awkwardly, causing Tubbo to shoot him an odd look that you decided to brush off, "Now, uh, come on! Michael needs to meet his new mother!"

You blinked in surprise at the new title but didn't question it much, assuming it was simply just a title. Unbeknownst to you, your two best friends already thought you were part of their platonic relationship, despite you never agreeing nor denying, or them even asking.

It took a few days, but the zombie piglin warmed up to you and practically saw you as another one of his parents, which made Ranboo and Tubbo extremely happy. Instead of placing you into one of the regular rooms, they had Foolish turn the basement into two heavily secured rooms a few days before your house had been destroyed, strangely enough, and even designed one perfectly to your liking!

After washing the fruits you had, you walked towards the bookshelf and pulled on the fake book that caused the shelf to swing open. You walked down the quartz stairs after shutting the hidden door, then made your way up to one of the two doors with a pink sign with 'Michael' written in yellow cursive paint. Punching in the code, the iron door slid open and you stepped in before closing it behind you.

A loud cooing grunt was heard and the sound of quiet tapping echoed through the room before a pair of arms wrapped around your leg. "Hello, Michael." You giggled softly as Michael made grabbing hands up towards the bowl of fruit. Placing it down on the table, the child eagerly ran over and began munching on the food as you brushed over the books on the shelves to find one you haven't read to Michael before. "What about... The story of Persephone?"

A disappointed grunt was your only response.

"Guess I did read that one... Hm... Oh! What about the story of Icarus?" This time his response was a happy squeak and tippy taps of his hooves against the warm quartz floors. You sat down in the rocking chair and waited until the child scrambled over and jumped into your lap.

You opened the book and began reading to him for an hour until your eyes slowly slid shut to the quiet snores of the child of your two best friends, who at this point was beginning to see you as a mother.

Quiet 'meh' sounds and 'vrrr'ing noises and a dim flash woke you up from your spot in the rocking chair. Cracking open your eyes, your arms shifted around the nether hybrid as you saw Tubbo holding a camera making happy bleating noises, while Ranboo, who was the source of the buzzing noises, took the book you had been reading from your limp hand to put it back on the shelf.

"What time is it?" You murmured softly to keep the child asleep as you rubbed the back of your stiff and sore neck.

"It's about 5:30pm. Still rather early. Tubbo walked over and gave you a gentle yet affectionate headbutt while he scooped Michael up from your lap to bring him to bed. This caused an odd whining noise to come from the enderman hybrid before he quickly walked over and rested his forehead against yours, resting it there for a few moments before pulling back, his cheeks flushed the same colours as his eyes.

You giggled softly and gave him a gentle pat on the head as he helped you up. He held onto one of your hands as Tubbo eagerly went for the other, jokingly sticking his tongue out at Ranboo who gave a noise of mock offence, causing you three to giggle softly as you left Michael's room and went upstairs.

Tubbo and Ranboo weren't big fans of you leaving the basement on your own, and you were rarely allowed to leave the mansion even with the two boys at your sides. The former president told you it was because he heard rumours of Technoblade searching around for all the members of his cabinet back when he was in charge of L'Manberg, and he just wanted to protect you.

You saw no problems with his story as it was extremely believable. Your history with Technoblade hadn't been the cleanest and he would've definitely taken one of your canon lives back during the attack on L'Manberg, had a stray black and white firework not saved you that day. It had fired off and must've swerved a way that wasn't predicted, because it hit Technoblade hard enough in the chest to knock him away from you.

You don't remember much of that day, except for Ranboo immediately running over to you and dragging you away from the destruction and chaos. Thanks to him, you were almost completely scar-free and standing proudly at three canons lives.

A gentle hand on your shoulder brought you back to reality and you saw two sets of eyes staring at you with concern. "Hey... Are you feeling okay?" Ranboo asked softly, tilting your head up to place his free hand against your forehead, "See. I told you she should be getting more sunlight, Tubbo!"

"I'm okay, I'm okay!" You laughed softly at their worry, rubbing your thumbs along the back of their hands, "Just... Remembering the war with Dream and Techno..."

"What about it?" Tubbo asked, bringing you into the living room to sit down with your friends on either side of you.

You pursed your lips together for a moment as you looked at the ground, "Just how... Scary Techno is. And how he was about to kill me without a care about who or what I was."

Angered growling and seething noises came from Ranboo and Tubbo as you felt their grasps tighten around your hands, almost to a painful degree. You looked up and saw their expressions stone-cold and steely although vastly different from each other.

Ranboo's green eye was purple, and the black tone of his skin was beginning to seep into the side with the lack of colour. The corners of his mouth were slowly splitting open wider and wider as his lips parted, allowing you to see the glowing purple colour inside his mouth.

Tubbo's was less obvious. His eyes were blank but also had a bright fire, one burning for revenge, reflected in them. His ears weren't flicking and neither was his tail, his entire body stiff except for a faint sound giving away the fact that his teeth were grinding together.

As much as you tried to endure it, the grip became too harsh and you couldn't help but give a small pained gasp. This caused all physical contact with you to suddenly vanish as the two boys immediately flung themselves away from you, horror and fear in their eyes.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!"

"Are you okay?! Do you need an ice pack?!"

"Or a bandage from my claws?!"

They were both kneeling on the ground in front of you with both of your hands in their grasps again. They repeatedly turned your hands in their own, testing the joints and checking for marks or bruising. "Boys, boys!" You laughed softly, placing your hands on their heads to ruffle their hair gently. You pulled your left hand adorned with two beautiful rings and held it up for them to see, flexing it and moving it around, "See? Perfectly fine. No pain whatsoever!"

While they seemed to have calmed down a lot, they still seemed to be extremely upset and guilty. "I'm still going to get an ice pack... We don't want our wife to be injured..." Tubbo murmured as he quickly got up and walked towards the kitchen.

"I will get started on dinner. And as an apology, I'm making your favourite. (F/f)." Ranboo tried to be a little more upbeat than Tubbo, but you could still see the small amounts of guilt as he turned and followed after the goat hybrid.

Sighing softly at their over reactions, you leaned back against the couch...

Before doing a double-take.

Adorned with rings?!

You quickly flung yourself forward again and looked at your left hand. On your ring finger were two diamond rings, one gold with a green gemstone, and the other silver with a black gemstone, both glistening a faint purple from enchantments...

...

When did these get put on you- wait... Did Tubbo say... wife?

[yourtamaki]

the wanderer’s lodestone

dabi x f!reader

word count: 3.6k

warnings: violence, detail of injury, murder, morally grey reader, dry humping, mutual masturbation, oral (m receiving), angst ending

if there was one thing dabi has learned over the years, it was that people always fell in one of two categories. there were those who would meet his gaze and those who avoided it. he’s not sure which is worse. the brave ones and their wide eyes, always staring at his marred skin with such sick fascination it made his palms itch in the worst way. or the spineless bastards whose eyes stayed glued to the ground when he walked past only to gawk at him like a sideshow freak when they thought he wasn’t looking.

two sides of the same judgemental coin, all part of the same corrupt society that preaches love until someone doesn’t fit their mold. it was getting harder to differentiate between them and at some point he stopped trying all together. what did it matter if he couldn’t remember how it felt to be regarded like a human being? he didn’t need to be human to carry out his vengeance, he only needed to be alive. 

that changed when he met you. 

it wasn’t his cleanest break-in but he couldn’t care less, too busy focused on not passing out from blood loss. it was shit luck that the alley he had chosen to rest in was part of a new hero’s patrol route. the kid was clearly scared out of his mind when he realized dabi wasn’t just another thug on the streets, his pale face illuminated in the night by blue flame. it was a shame, for a rookie the kid had talent with his dagger quirk, being able to throw and call them back at will, even change their trajectory midair. he could’ve made it far in the ranks. 

dabi wondered if they’d bury him with his daggers, scorched bones and all. 

it wasn’t his problem anymore. all he cared about was finding something clean to wrap the nasty cut on his abdomen. there was no special reason he chose your bedroom window to climb through. it was the first apartment with a fire escape he stumbled upon just far enough away from the ashes of the pro hero that he wouldn’t have to worry about being followed. your dim window was the first he reached and it didn’t take much effort to jam a knife between the glass and the lock to force it open. he thought the place might be empty for the night when he stepped inside and heard no signs of life. he got to work tearing the bedsheets in long strips and was nearly done when you walked in. 

there were people who met his gaze and there were people who avoided it. you were neither. 

you saw him. 

even in near darkness, your eyes found his and didn’t flinch at the monster that stared back. the room stayed silent as you seized each other up save the drops of blood that slipped past where he held his wound shut and splattered on the floor. 

“could you not rip my sheets up?” 

your voice was enough to startle him from his initial shock, twirling the knife once before going back to cutting up the fabric. “i need them more than you do. i’ll be gone in a minute, scream and i’ll kill you.” 

you scoffed but didn't reply, walking across the room and flipping the light on in a bathroom he hadn’t seen earlier. a wave of irritation washed over him as he watched you rummage through drawers. who would turn their back to someone who broke into their home? did you have no self preservation? 

you walked back, tossing several things onto the bed before making your way back deeper into the apartment. “close the window on your way out.” 

and with that you’re gone. a part of him wanted to chase you, to tie up the loose end but the memory of your eyes kept him frozen in place. the thought of those same eyes looking at him with fear made his gut twist and he didn’t understand why. he grabbed whatever you tossed at him, the few strips he’d managed to make and left the way he came. it’s not until he’s found an empty alley to rest in did he inspect the items. ace bandages, an entire bottle of hydrogen peroxide, fish wire and a sewing needle. 

your kindness tasted like pity and acid. he couldn’t convince himself to spit it out even as it burned a hole straight through his tongue. 

dabi hated you and he etched that hatred into his skin, stitch by painful stitch. hated you for reminding him that he had yet to purge the weakness from his soul. the same weakness that forced him to walk past your apartment over the next few weeks. it was stupid to stick around in the city for so long, especially after killing that hero. he told himself it was to make sure you’d upped your security since he’d tumbled into your home but it sounded the excuse rang hollow with no one to hear the lie. 

it became such a mindless part of his routine it took him a moment to realize one night that your window had been shattered open. his throat tightened almost painfully, your eyes flashed in his mind and he was flying up the fire escape a moment later. 

a lean figure was pulling open drawers when the sound of dabi stepping on broken glass made him whip around. it’s a pain, not being able to turn the man into fuel for his ever hungry flames but he didn’t think you’d appreciate him saving your house just to burn it down. 

the man’s movements were clumsy and uncoordinated, taking desperate swings that left him wide open for dabi to sneak under his defences. he’d just managed to grapple the intruder into a chokehold when the bedroom door creaked open and both men’s attention snapped to you. 

“you done yet?” you asked and dabi had to force himself to speak under the full weight of your gaze.

“were you here the whole time?” you nodded, acting far too casual for his liking. “why the fuck didn’t call the cops or something?” 

“i figured you’d show up.” you cocked your head at the incredulous look he threw you. “what, you thought i didn’t notice you coming around all the time?” 

he clicked his teeth in annoyance. “well, what do you want to do with him then, sweetheart?” 

it was a test and it was clear you knew it, glancing down at the intruder that had started weakly clawing at his arm. dabi would kill the man regardless of what you said but your answer would speak volumes on where you stood in this society rotted by false gods. 

“i don’t care what you do, just dump the body far from here.” you didn’t blink once as you sentenced the man to death, didn’t blink as dabi shifted his hold and the echo of a snapped neck rang out in the room. you held steady and a begrudging respect rose up in him.

he heaved the man over his shoulder, being mindful to keep the head hidden from your line of sight. you’d already passed his test, there was no need for you to see it any longer then he’d already made you. he just had to know if you were putting on a front or not. if you were, it would’ve been all the more likely for you to put in a tip about a certain villain that lurked around your neighbourhood. 

but instead you had held his gaze, didn’t look at him any differently and dabi didn’t want to know why he felt so relieved for it. 

he honoured your request, carrying the body through back alleys and shadows to the very edge of the city. his thoughts wandered, as they always seemed to where you’re considered, wondering how soon he could see you again while he watched the flames climb high into the night sky. 

“a tarp? seriously?” he’d lasted two full nights before his feet led him back to your fire escape and the brand new thick tarp that covered the missing window. you were in bed this time, reading a book the title of which he couldn’t make out with the dim light from your bedside lamp, not even bothering to look his way as he made himself comfortable on the window sill. 

“shitty landlord is taking his sweet time replacing the glass so yeah. tarp.” 

“you should move. i hear there’s a lot of break-ins going on around here.” he didn’t like how much your huff of laughter to his poor attempt at humour felt like a reward. 

“not all of us can afford to live in the hero sectors, you know?” 

the venom in your voice when you mentioned the hero sector caught him off guard. they’re one of the more subtle forms of corruption present in all cities with a hero presence. living in the hero sectors ensures one’s total safety from any threat. from robberies to natural disasters, a hero’s priority is focused on the rich who can afford the protection. no hero will ever admit to it, though. on paper, the sectors don’t exist. and yet the heroes flock to the same handful of neighbourhoods the moment a threat occurs. another underhand tactic to keep the poor in their place and the rich comfortable. 

you’ve become that much more interesting in his eyes.

“so, you here to bleed all over my sheets again or what?” 

dabi scoffed, “no, but i was hoping you could take these stitches out and we’ll call it even for saving your ass.” he could rip them out himself but where was the fun in that?

“yeah right. who saved who first?” despite your grumbling you waved dabi over, gesturing for him to sit on the bed while you went off to grab supplies from the bathroom. 

he expected you to pull up a chair once you returned but instead you placed a hand on his chest and pushed him onto his back. it took all his concentration not to flinch when you straddled him, your hand trailing under his shirt, fingertips grazing his burnt flesh as you pulled his shirt up, bundling the material and forcing it into his mouth. 

“you might wanna bite down on that, i’m all out of painkillers.” 

there was a gentleness in how you cut the stitches from his body, how you took care to dab an alcohol soaked cotton pad over each one. it made his chest go tight, unable to recall ever being this close to someone and not walking away with new scars. 

dabi found himself lulled into a trance by the rhythm of your hands, a trance that shattered as your fingertips strayed from the path of the cut, following the rows upon rows of staples that held him together instead. he watched your face closely, waiting for the disgust and horror to swim to the surface but your eyes kept the steadiness they always seemed to have. 

“does it hurt?” you whispered. 

he wanted to tell you that it didn’t hurt, not in the way you thought it did. that the nerves beneath his burnt and darkened flesh had died long ago and he couldn’t even feel the patterns you were now tracing on his stomach. it’s the unblemished skin that hurts, that always hurts. the parts of him that still cling to life. 

the human brain processes pain differently than any other stimulation it feels. pain never dulls, never vanishes no matter how long it lasts. every waking moment, his own mind tortures him with fresh waves of pain and never lets him forget the countless staples that pierce his flesh and tear him open everytime he moves. 

there’s so much he could tell you but the words refused to come out, burning up in his throat and leaving him choking on the ash. 

you didn’t push when no answer came, prying his shirt from his clenched teeth and pulling it back into place. “you’re good to go, stranger.” 

his hands that had been clenched by his sides twitched when you started to move away from him and judging by the tilt of your head, it didn’t escape your notice. you settled back over him and this time he couldn’t stop his hands from gripping onto your waist, trying to stop you from shifting.

“stop that.” he said through gritted teeth.

you gave another roll of your hips and smirked when his fingers dug deeper into your sides, “stop what?”

“you’re a fucking menace, you know that?”

“yeah. but you like it.”

he hated that you were right. but he’d be damned if he gave you the satisfaction of seeing him lose it from a little grinding. he used his hold on you to push you back slightly, spreading his legs even further until you were straddling his thigh instead. syrupy smugness filled his veins seeing you flustered for the first time since he’s met you.

“go on, don’t get shy on me now.” you were quick to shake off any reservations, growling at his teasing tone and grinding down on his thigh with a desperation that sent a thrill down his spine. “just like that, make yourself feel good.”

he couldn’t wrap his head around how right this felt. there should have been a moment of hesitation from either of you as you walked hand in hand over a line you’d have no way of crossing back over but instead you melted into each other, all his senses heightened and flooded with you, you, you. 

he was so focused on memorizing every minute expression that crossed your face he didn’t realize you were asking for help until you moved his hands from your waist to your ass. he was more than happy to take over, setting a brutal pace that had you crying out, bunching his shirt up in your fists to try to stay grounded.

“c’mon baby, let go.”

you cum with a strangled cry and he can feel every pulse and clench of your cunt through the layers that separated you. your whole body shook in his arms as he helped you ride out your high before you collapsed on top of him, your head buried in the crook of his neck. he let your hands wander up and down his sides but grabbed hold of your wrists when they started to make their way between his legs.

he was about to tell you to forget about it, to not worry about the ache that sat heavy and hard in his jeans but the pout on your face when you looked up made him freeze. 

“can i?” you asked, so close your warm breath fanned his face.

“you don’t- i didn’t…” he didn’t want you to think that this is all he’d wanted from you, that this wasn’t why he was compelled to return to you over and over. you seemed to understand his silent struggle, gracing him with a small smile. 

“i know. i want to.” any hesitation vanished at the challenging look you gave him while you freed his cock from its restraints. you held your palm out to him and dabi spat into it, never breaking eye contact as you do the same and wrapped your hand around him, coating his length in the mixture of you. you took as much care touching him as you did cutting his stitches, careful and sure with each stroke, sweeping a thumb over his sensitive tip to gather the precum that leaked like a faucet. 

as you worked his cock, he grabbed your leg that had fallen between his and pulled it up until your thighs were spread over his own. he couldn’t help the low groan that escaped him when he slid a hand into pants and past your panties and felt just how wet you were, sinking two fingers inside you just to hear you whine from the stretch. 

it wasn’t the best angle but dabi made it work, crooking his fingers and letting his rough palm slap against your clit with each thrust. when your eyes started to roll back into your head, he used his free hand to grab the back of your neck, pressing your forehead to his and making sure your vision was filled with nothing but him. 

“keep your eyes on me, don’t fucking close ‘em.” your mouth fell open as you nod, somehow keeping your pace steady even as he felt your walls fluttered around him. “show me that pretty face you make when you cum, sweetheart, i wanna see it again.” 

“‘m cumming ‘m cumming oh fuck- ! ” you gasped as your orgasm hit you. he moaned right alongside you as you squeezed just underneath his blunt tip in a sudden death grip, the pain-laced pleasure was almost enough to push him over the edge. 

you dropped to your knees quickly as you felt his cock twitch in your hand, popping the head into your mouth and rolling his heavy balls in your hand. the sudden sensation of your wet, hot tongue pressing at his slit had him shooting rope after rope of cum down your throat and his head spun when you swallowed every drop and showed him your empty mouth. 

dabi pounced, tackling you to the ground, cradling your head before it could hit the floor and crashing his lips onto yours so hard he already knew he’d have to give a gruff apology when they ended up bruised. he chased the bitter taste of himself that lingered on your tongue and shivered when your tongue ran across his scarred bottom lip and you didn’t recoil at what you felt. frantic, rough kisses melted away into a lazy make out that banished all but one thought from his mind. 

he could get used to this. he wanted to get used to this. 

“hey,” your voice pulled him back down to earth, something soft glimmering behind your eyes and dabi didn’t want to look away until he figured out what it was. “i wanna show you something.”

you wiggled out from beneath him, making your way to the window and pushing the heavy tarp out of the way before stepping onto the fire escape. 

following you up the winding stairs felt natural, like he was born to witness the small smile you threw over your shoulder to make sure he was keeping up. 

the view at the top was underwhelming. too many buildings pressed too close together, all the exact same height as the one you two stood on stretching as far as the eye could see to create the most painfully ordinary view he’d ever seen. but it was quiet. the roar of the streets below couldn’t be heard at all and dabi hadn’t realized how loud it all was until deafening silence took its place. and it was cold. cold enough that he couldn’t tell if the ache in his lungs was from the freezing air or the hazy memory of white hair that floated through his mind.

it was the closest thing to peace he could remember feeling in years. 

“you like it?” you were watching him closely, hopping from foot to foot and he didn’t know what possessed you to come out wearing only your flimsy sleepwear. you seemed proud of the little hidden treasure you found and something stirred in his chest thinking about how you chose to share it with him. 

“‘s nice.” he said, reaching out to cover both your hands in his and using just enough of his ever burning flame to warm you both. he found himself waiting once more for the sudden twist of revulsion in your features, for you to jerk away from his touch but you sighed in contentment as heat seeped back into your fingertips. you brought his hands up to your face, making him cup your cold cheeks and closing your eyes to savour the warmth. 

it was as you nuzzled into his palm that dabi realized exactly how dangerous you were to each other. undeserved kindness and crooked smiles and sharing secrets. he hadn’t earned any of these things and yet you handed them to him like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

and he’ll take them. because that was the nature of the fire he had been cursed with. it takes and takes and takes and you’ll be left with nothing to show for it but the grey ash of your generous heart. and in return you’d lull him with the false belief that he is more than the hatred that flows through his veins, that there was still a person buried under the mountain of rage he carried inside him. he doesn’t think he could survive without it but you would make him believe that he could. 

he’d destroy you. you’d ruin him. 

this, whatever this was that was growing between you was doomed to end before it had even started. he should leave you on this rooftop, leave the whole damn city and forget whatever you had tried to awaken in him. but dabi could never resist the call of destruction, would always want to know exactly how hot and how bright things could burn. what did love look like when it’s been bathed in flames? 

dabi pulled you closer, determined to find out.

dedicated to: @saintdabi​

[cupidsintern]

oho i would love to hear about that second one please please (and ill post a pic of my bellbottoms tomorrow lol)

its my virgin!billy fic. ill just give u some of it lmao:

the other night i cried (while thinking of having sex with you) pt. 1

Billy prayed for this. 

Like, actually honest to god prayed- but in his defense he had been super drunk at the time. Drunk and crying. Alone. In his room. 

One of his lower points. Definitely not the lowest. 

And he hadn't put his hands together- but he was sort of sitting on his knees. Kind of. 

And he’d tilted his head up to his god-forsaken popcorn plastered ceiling and blinked a couple times and closed his eyes and thought:

Please let me lose my virginity to Steve Harrington. 

Shoot for the stars, right?

It had been one of those nights where he'd been at one of those parties and ended up in a room alone with one of those girls and she’d started pawing her way up his leg and he bolted. 

Very subtly bolted. But still. 

Made him feel sick. He took two showers. 

Maybe he would have felt better if he could have just like, stared himself down in the bathroom mirror and whispered ‘what's wrong with you?’. But he knew. 

Then he’d prayed. 

Then he’d fallen asleep and been hungover at breakfast and was sure his dad would notice- but he didn’t- so maybe even if his prayers weren’t gonna be answered, whatever Higher Power there was, was still cutting him some slack today. On a random Saturday. Rather than literally any other day he could have used a deus ex machina.

Nobody knew Billy was a virgin. I mean technically, some of his old friends knew, back home. But they were usually cool about it, because why wouldn't you be if you'd been friends for someone that long. But no one here knew. And thank god because being 18 and still being ‘inexperienced’ would get you endless shit but they didn't. Mostly because they had no way of finding out. Billy could have bagged loads of chicks back on the gold coast and no one doubted that. 

And it wasn't like Billy’d never gotten hot and heavy with anyone. It was just that. None of those people were. You know. Girls. 

Nobody he could actually talk about. Especially now. Even if he had friends other than fair-weather lackeys. 

And. You know. Steve.

Billy would never say he was friends with Steve outright, just because it seemed like one of those things that if you verbally confirmed it, then it would stop being true. Because he kind of couldn't believe that it was. 

It was Max’s fault for making him apologize. She said she didn't want Billy and her to keep fighting so much, that she missed being friends, and it was like pulling teeth but he asked what he could do to make amends. She said to apologize to Lucas, then apologize to Steve. Billy did that. 

Then Steve wouldn't leave him alone. 

And it wasn't like he could keep pretending to hate Steve- he'd taken that way too far. Couldn’t exactly pull Steve aside and say “Look I know you're trying to be nice but if you don’t leave me alone I’ll start being queer about it and I can’t let that happen again.”

So Steve kept being nice.

And Billy got kinda queer about it.

He really tried not to. Honest he did. But then again maybe he didn't. Because Steve smelled like department store Christmas and if he bought a two pack of lighters he always gave Billy the second one. He’d walk over sit with Billy at lunch and always say “this seat taken?” even if there was no one else around like it was a cheesy sitcom and he was just waiting for the laugh track to kick in.

Then it got to the point that if Billy tried to avoid Steve, Steve would track him down and ask if he was okay.

“You okay, man?”

Wasn't always ‘man,’ either. Sometimes it was “California” or “Bills” or even one time “tiger,” and that shit knocked Billy out. Pulled the rug right out from under him but- “Yeah, Harrington. I’m fine. Just getting some air.”

Billy asked Max what the fuck she’d told Steve about Billys life. She said if he wanted to ask her something he couldn't just barge into her room he had to knock first so he had to leave her room, close the door, knock, and wait for her to say “yeah” to open the door again and “For the second time, Maxine. What did you tell Harrington about me.”

“Nothing,” She was being honest too. “I didn't tell him anything, weirdo. I think he just wants to be friends.”

Friends.

Which was maybe worse than enemies.

Because it meant the sad, sad reality that Billy was just some incognito perv that didn't have a snowball's chance in hell of sleeping with Steve Harrington was made even more apparent.

Then came the ‘let’s hangout’s.

Steve started asking Billy if he wanted to hang out outside of school. Like go for lunch, then maybe ditch school after lunch, just not go back and drive around for a while. Then just ditch a day of school altogether and walk around downtown. Then spend an entire school holiday walking around downtown, chasing pigeons off the sidewalk and window shopping and spending a whole two hours in the one and only record shop trying to track down a tape Steve said he remembered having in the 8th grade.

Then-

“Hey! Bills, slow down,” Steve was trying to catch up to Billy in the hall.

Billy caught a whiff of hairspray and the Cleanest Woods You'd Ever Stick Your Nose In before he even turned his head.

“What are you doing after school tomorrow?” “Light arson. Why do you ask?”

Steve smiled. “You could do some light arson at my house. Sure I have some old homework you could burn.”

Billy wanted very badly to tell Steve that ‘that is not what arson is’. But he was still kind of hung up on being invited to Steve’s house. Steve’s illusive, gigantic house to which he had never been but always secretly wanted to go.

“I’m more of a book burning guy.” Billy smiled back- couldn't help himself. “Get me your address in third tomorrow, yeah?”

Steve’s smile got wider. “Sick.”

Billy got Steve’s address passed to him by the platinum blonde that sat next to him in third period. She teased the shiny strands all to hell every morning but there were always halfway to flat by 10am. She flicked the note onto his desk kind of carelessly, which Billy hated because didn't she know it was precious cargo? But also he didn't care because it wasn't a big deal going to Harrington’s house anyway.

Steve had drawn little stars around his house address. Like it was some big Destination.

What a dork. Billy traced his finger over one of the stars before shoving the note in his pocket.

-

pt. 2 maybe coming soon???

[empiressmpheadcanon]

I am sorry for sending in a lot of these (and how long they are lol)

It's just I want to talk about seablings (also some are after Jimmy gets his sea God powers cus I NEED IT OK)

So Lizzie HATES litter. With all her heart. Especially in the water. Her kingdom is probably one of the cleanest. It's to the point where if you, say, accidently drop something in the water on the way to trade with someone, you can guarantee the next day you'll wake up to a 10ft tall ocean goddess at your door with the anger of 1000 hurricanes, who stares you down as she makes sure you dispose of it properly.

Lizzie is the strongest in the empires. Her goddess status mixed with a swimmer body means she could probably pick up a pirate boat fairly painlessly. It makes Joel very flustered.

Lizzie knows a lot of languages! She doesn't know many on the surface, but she knows at least 10 under the water. It mostly comes back as she learns her past, but she can talk to just about any ocean creature. She'll tell you that stingrays always mumble and that crabs have really thick lisps.

Jimmy can't eat red meat. Just. His body doesn't process it. It isn't too bad, since he really doesn't eat meat at all, but sometimes dinner with Joel can be tedious to find ***something*** that isn't involving being wrapped in meat or soaked in fat. Mezalean cuisine knows what's good.

Sea God (tm) Jimmy has black bones/teeth. Idk why I just like the aesthetic. His sclera and fingernails are black too. C!Scott was very confused on the emotions he was feeling when he saw that.

They both inherited big eyes and expressive fins. They kinda look like cats. Lizzies fins fan out when she's surprised or happy, and Jimmy's flap when he gets excited. They are really sensitive but Lizzie still has some piercings and Jimmy plans to get some to match with her.

Jimmy has sharp fin along his spine and his arms that he binds down so they don't accidentally jab him or someone else. This was after he accidentally impaled Fwhip who tried to jump on his back to scare him :P

Lizzies guilty pleasure is sushi. She says she has to go do queen stuff, 99% of the time she's in a secluded area of the Matral Palace enjoying sashimi or something. Joel hasn't told a soul.

After Scott left, Jimmy hangs out in the date cave if he gets too overwhelmed. He often just stays under the water in the pond with the cod and let's himself think. He keeps the flora in check because when Scott comes back, he wants to go on a date again and it would be too overgrown.

I love the seablings sm,,,,,,,,,,

[theplushmaker]

Oki since someone asked for the Silver headcannons I'll post them, there's quite a few so I hope you enjoy!

Please let me know if I should put a warning

• Silver loves to look at the night sky to see the stars since he came from an apocalyptic future where ash and smog covered the sky

• Silver was originally part of Sonic's time but was transported 200 years into the future by Mephiles to insure the (rewritten) events of Sonic 06

• Silver enjoys botany

• Silver was taught English by Mephiles

• Silver knows seconds and days but has trouble when it comes to hours, weeks, months, and years

• Silver at first had trouble understanding how birthdays worked

• Silver was a lot shorter when he first met Sonic due to malnourishment, making him look like a 10-year-old (despite being 14)

• only Silver remembers the events of Sonic 06 due to Mephiles' interference

• Silver had to ask Sonic what certain words meant ex: parents, mom and dad, sister/brother, etc, etc, the first time he asked Sonic what family was, Sonic was, understandably, confused then worried, afterward, Silver had asked Shadow instead only to get the same results (albeit less obvious) so now he only asks if he can't figure it out on his own

• Silver is used to hot temperatures due to the lava and fire in the apocalyptic future

• Silver gained the ability of foresight, albeit weak, (after Sonic 06) and is only able to use it when meditating (this is so that Silver doesn't have to appear JUST because "oh the future's in danger and he has to prevent it" like in the games)

• Silver can not time travel, that was all Mephiles' doing (^)

• Silver has a fear of fire (pyrophobia)

• Silver can not tell when someone is being sarcastic and will take everything someone says literally, Charmy learned this the hard way when he told Silver to "throw the bucket of water at Sonic" Sonic was knocked unconscious with Tails panicking, safe to say Charmy learned his lesson and was later grounded by Espio when he found out

• Silver's first "food" when Mephiles sent him back was ham sandwiches

• when Shadow had to keep an eye on Silver, (along with Rouge and Omega, due to him getting a head injury because Shadow "accidentally" kicked him and Rouge felt it was their mostly his responsibility to take care of him till he recovers) he saw Silver laying on the ground outside, when Shadow walked over Silver looked at him with big eyes saying "it's so small" with the tone of an amazed child, upon closer inspection Shadow found out that he was referring to a caterpillar he found eating a leaf, Rouge was there recording the whole thing

• Silver managed to make Shadow smile when he first saw snow and started acting like a child on his first snow day

• Silver never told anyone about the events of 06 after the "time-line reset" thinking it was best left forgotten (that and he's afraid of what everyone will think should he tell them that he helped a man, who no longer exists, almost end the world)

• Silver sleeps at 12:40 but will wake up at 4:00 IN THE MORNING just because he's still not used to the concept of time, the only reason why everyone knows this is because one-time Sonic let Silver stay the night at his and Tails place, and Tails ended up finishing a project at 4:33 AM the boy walked out of his lab expecting for Sonic and Silver to be asleep, only to get the absolute daylights scared out of him when he finds Silver (trying to but shh!) Reading a book at the kitchen table, Silver fell out of his chair and Sonic came down running (but not without falling off his bed and hitting his head hard) to check on them, after that they told everyone of Silver's "messed up" sleep schedule

• Silver is illiterate but is trying his best to learn how to read without anyone knowing, so far no one suspects a thing

• Silver has quite a bit of pain tolerance given the fact that Knuckles dislocated his shoulder once and Silver didn't even flinch, even after they fixed it by taking him to a doctor

• Silver can not stay in one place for too long, given the fact that he traveled all over the place in the apocalyptic future, it was only a given that the habit never died, of course, Sonic and co can keep him from leaving by simply keeping him busy, this has helped greatly with surprise party's

• Silver's first "language" was just a mix-mash of 40 other languages

• if Silver doesn't use his psychokinesis he can end up building up too much energy for his body to handle, so what happens if he can no longer handle it you may ask? Chaos, absolute chaos, he ends up acting like Charmy on a sauger rush and Sonic when he has coffee, his abilities go haywire and he doesn't even know it, the worse part is, the only reason he did stop using his psychokinesis is because he made a bet with Shadow to see who can go the longest without using their abilities, Rouge, of course, recorded the whole thing, along with Omega, no one has let him live it down since

• the gold bracelet things (what are they even called?) Silver has can store excess energy and it can store a lot, (so combine that with energy build-up)

• Silver has nightmares of when his primary caretakers were killed, (PTSD?) Though sometimes it would be about Blaze, Amy, Sonic, Shadow, or all of them, sometimes it's them getting killed or them leaving him once they remember or find out about the events of 06, which is why he tries his best to act as normal as everyone else, though sometimes it's about Mephiles telling him things, he tries to bury those memories

• Silver didn't know it at the time but he and Mephiles had a father-son relationship before he realized Mephiles was using him, it saddens him knowing that he might never have that type of relationship again

• Silver sometimes reminds Shadow of Maria with how he acts when he sees/ learns something new

• Silver, Shadow and Sonic have a brotherly relationship, Silver being the young oblivious brother, Sonic being the carefree middle brother, and Shadow being the strict older brother

• Silver may act like a child most of the time but if someone gets in his way of survival, he will go stone cold

• Silver's boots are made of metal so they weigh quite a bit, of course, the only reason why everyone knows this is because when Shadow "accidentally" knocked him unconscious, he, along with Rouge, tried to drag him inside only to find out his boots weighed him down and had to be removed, this lead to the discovery that Silver was underweight, (they left his boots outside, covered by a box because they didn't want to bother trying to move them inside)

• Amy and Vanille were the first to find out that Silver had quite the sweet tooth, he likes marshmallows best

• Silver gets vocabulary lessons from Amy while taking cooking and health lessons

• Vanille makes sure that Silver eats whenever she gets the chance, like a worried mother

• Silver's teeth are surprisingly healthy, just not the cleanest... with a little bit of red staining (though people assume that it's because his gums bleed and not because he ate something he shouldn't have) Amy had to teach him how to brush and had to remind him to brush every night until it became a good habit of his, his teeth are also pretty sharp for a hedgehog (I wonder why)

• due to multiple reasons, (take a guess) most of Sonic Co think that Silver didn't have a great upbringing, with most of them assuming that he had strict parents and lived during a famine in a dry/hot area that was prone to violence, which they aren't wrong but they are?

• with Silver's fear of fire, one would think that he and Blaze didn't get along, but the opposite is true, Blaze keeps using fire at a minimum when he's around and if she did use it then she'd give ample warning time and space before she does it, in return Silver stays close to the ground so he doesn't "trigger" her fear of heights

• Silver does not know anything about romance, so when he starts to suddenly feel odd around Blaze, ex: abnormal heart rate, weird feeling in his stomach, warm cheeks, etc, he asks Amy about it, (mostly because she's been teaching him about health) and she gets excited and tells him about love (she's secretly cupid, fight me)

[kaijurakunsobs]

You will feel joy, one day

master list for this series

sorry for the wait y'all, I had to torture myself into listening to the same song to get the inspo I needed for this next chapter which is READYMADE - Ado (it has English subtitles btw)

Hope you guys enjoy this!

Summary: It's been clear from the start that you won't go down without putting up a fight, the tone in your voice and stand are nothing but infuriating for Heisenberg, just like his mere presence fills you with annoyance. The factory is enormous and whatever he's doing here could get you killed, but even in this kingdom of oil and rusted metal, there's a bit of kindness.

Right now, you would accept the title of naive, because you were when you thought this man would share his secrets with you, instead...he's giving you a fucking tour of the entire place, wildly pointing and all the doors and doing sharp turns, taking you up and down flights of stairs "I hope you don't get lost, darlin', we don't want you ending in the wrong place, right?" there's mockery in his voice as he speaks over his shoulder, halting to a stop and making you trip and crash against him.

"This is the boiler room, you might want to familiarize yourself with this place in particular" a snarky smile appearing on his lips

Peeking inside makes you go pale and sigh in frustration, it's a mess, you can see cables, crudely fixed with tape, more flammable materials, and so many oil spills on the ground, "I can also familiarize with the rest of the fabric because this dump could explode any day"

His smile falls and that expression of annoyance, that just seems to be for you, comes back in no time. Releasing a cloud of smoke he turns around and starts walking faster, slowly regaining his showman's voice and the exuberance of his movements renew with the occasional laugh, is enough to make you tune him out again, looking at whatever you find more interesting, nose scrunching up with whenever there's something that unsettles or makes you question this man's leadership and care for this place. If you do take the role of helping him, you know you're gonna exploited day and night.

He's not blind or stupid, he knows you are doing everything but listening to him, every time he looks over his shoulder to make sure you are following and paying him some god damn attention, he will always see you eyeing everything, dissecting the place, and doing a face that just speaks volumes of how unimpressed you are by his life's work, but it's not like he will tell you about his plans, it's too soon for that, what if you are just a little spy under Miranda's orders?

It rubs him the wrong way how adamant she was on you being under his orders, super-sized bitch didn't raised too much hell, which also puts him on edge, it just doesn't feel normal for him. In any other situation where Miranda has favored him over Dimitrescu, and it wasn't because "mother" gave her that heartfelt speech Karl being all alone on his iron tower, Moreau is the forgotten child of the bunch and has to beg for almost everything, Miranda is already pissed with Donna and her botanical gig, let alone, the way she uses her cadou to just make dolls move.

That left him in the position akin to a middle child, he's just there, occasionally remembered and rarely to give him treats or surprises. He's used to scavenging for materials, do the occasional grave robbing or take the corpses the other Lords leave behind.

So, why did she left you with him?

"Lastly but no less important! the living quarters"

You have been so lost in thought, you didn't noticed that his "fantastical tour" is over, and you are back to the front of the complex...shit, you didn't even paid attention to where everything is, you're gonna get so lost if you try to navigate this place on your own.

After entering the brute closes the door behind you and goes to the left office, you can hear him mumbling under his breath and things being moved around, you don't know how long he's going to be in there, so you turn your attention to the rest of the room.

From everything you have seen, this place is the cleanest one and it makes you think of the layout in your family's factory. It looks like he repurposed what used to be the waiting area, there's a kitchen in the right corner, a couple of sofas that had seen better days, a lot of blueprints have been left on the coffee table. To the left, it's the main office, a lot bigger and the tinted glass on the door has the name Heisenberg hand-painted on it, classy, you suppose that that's his room? you don't care, opting for getting close to the blueprints, his handwriting is atrocious and there are notes everywhere, how interesting, one of the workers used to say that was a sign of a brilliant mind.

"You are not allowed to go there, a'right?" hearing him so close makes you jump, when did he come back? from the tone of his voice, you might be right, it's either his bedroom "This one, however! this one is just for you" he says oh so sweetly when pointing at the smaller office to the right opening the door rather unceremoniously.

Now you get why the rest of this area is so clean and clutter-free, motherfucker pushed all the trash and old furniture in there, it's dusty and the air, somehow, is stale only in this place, you can see cobwebs "Since I'm being kind enough to let you sleep on this side and not in the cellars, I think is fair that you take care of the mess, don't you think?"

"Can't I just sleep in one of the couches?"

"Of course not, we don't want my precious mechanic to get sick, right?" condescending asshole, he even smiles at you, showing you his teeth in what you identify as an act of intimidation

"Of course we don't want that, my Lord! but, I do must say, you have been ill-mannered, showing me around your domain yet...you haven't told me your name when introductions were supposed to be made long ago" it's your turn to give him teeth flashing smile, his going a bit forced

"Well you see sweetheart, I would have done it earlier, but I came encountered a disrespectful brat that decked me in the face as soon as we met"

"Really now? Perhaps, this brat was done with being manhandled and reacted accordingly to how they felt" the sardonic smile on your face grows and you can see how much it pisses him off, and that shouldn't make you proud.

The man is looking, more like attempting, to look down on you, clicking his tongue loudly and in a dissatisfied manner, with complete derision, he gives you, the closest thing to a respectful bow "My name is Karl Heisenberg and I'm one of the four Lords working under Miranda's orders"

In response, you give him a curtsy and use your best sarcastic tone, just for him "It's such an honor to meet you, my lord. I must say I'm no noble but I do HOPE you may remember the name of this pheasant girl, Y/N, L/N Y/N"

He doesn't appreciate the way you talk to him or how you don't even try to hide how little you respect or fear him, but he needs you alive to accelerate and optimize the factory's production, under other circumstances? he would have thrown you down to let the Sturm have some fun, but he won't, at least for now.

"So, Miss Y/N...let me give you a...welcoming gift" he's harsh when trusting a bundle of crumpled clothes and old boots into your arms, pushing you back hard enough that you almost lose your balance "I don't expect you to always wear my hand-me-downs, this is a momentary arrangement"

"Oh my! so generous of you, to clothe this poor village girl with your own garments, I am so thankful for this, however, if I may ask for a tiny favor...can I know where your bathroom is? I don't what to soil this fine fabric with my dirty body"

You don't like the way he smiles at you, with one hand he grabs your shoulder and with the other he opens the door, pushing you towards what used to be the employee's showers, there's mold and broken mirrors, a lot of the shower heads are gone and the only one that seems to be functioning is leaking.

"Serve yourself, princess, just know this...there's only cold water, the hot water stopped working years ago and I haven't felt like repairing it, I hope you enjoy your shower!"

And with that, he leaves you, finally alone but unnerved on how easily he could come back and just stare at you like a creep. But you need a shower, there's grime and dirt caked to your body and it's starting to get disgusting and itchy. So you swallow your pride and leave the borrowed clothes over the small wall separating the showers from the rest of the place and brace yourself to what might be the worst moment of the day so far.

Later you are cursing him as loud as you can, he didn't lie when he said that only the cold water worked, but you would say it was freezing, his clothes are uncomfortably big on you, and smell of faint sweat and like these were left tucked away for a long time, the boots are the best part, these have been broken in nicely and they fit you...who are you kidding? the damn things are falling apart and you feel like a clown with how big they are.

That has left you with the shining crown of the shit show that's been this whole day! the trash in your new room, you had to box so many useless papers, look everywhere to find one measly broom, and use the remains of the gown you came in with to keep your hair out of your face and as a bandana to cover your nose and mouth.

From all the old furniture in the room, the only useful stuff is the old desk, a sofa that somehow survived without being eating by termites but might be infested with cockroaches, and a lamp. It's not much, but it's something.

All this moving around now has brought a new problem.

You are starving.

You can't remember when Miranda took you, let alone when was your last meal or if you were fed during your time in the cell. But Heisenberg's fridge is empty, there's only a handful of onions and those have roots and sprouts coming out already. There's nothing substantial in the cupboards or anywhere for that matter.

You doubt there might anything to eat in this place, but, you better give it a try, better die trying than going to sleep with a grumbling stomach, right? But, you didn't learn jackshit from him and you can't remember anything from the directions Heisenberg gave you.

Fuck it.

Slowly you creep out of the small apartment and peek outside, looking around assures you that the coast is clear. This could be a great learning experience! no matter how much of a dick this man is, there's something of value in his words and maybe, just maybe, you should pay more attention when he talks...MAYBE.

The place is a labyrinth of stairs, broken walls turned into hallways and sealed doors, you do have half a mind to remember which doors and areas he pointed as "out of bounds" for you, which is a surprise, seeing how massive the place is.

Under the stench of grease and smoke, you notice, the tasty scent of stew...close, very close, your poor stomach twisting painfully and mouth rapidly filling with saliva, you start following the heavenly aroma until you reach an old cargo lift, a large man sits there and for a moment that makes you stop in your tracks.

The man is surrounded by bags and crates filled with stuff from fruits to what you guess are various pieces of machinery and other objects hard to identify in the low light "Aaaaah...a new customer perhaps? You must be Lord Heisenberg's new assistant, are you not?"

He smiles with true kindness and something similar to pity, meaty hands adorned with gold rings beacon you close "Come come, miss...?"

"Uuuuuuuh...I'm Y/N, nice to meet you..."

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance miss Y/N, you may call me The Duke"

There's something infectious in him that makes you relax your shoulders and walk closer to him "So...what do you do here Duke?"

"What? well, I'm nothing but a humble merchant, occasionally I set up shop here in the factory, especially when I have a delivery or things that may spark Lord Heisenberg's interest, and now that you are here, I will make a note to bring stuff you could use too"

"I...I would appreciate the gesture, thanks" the small sincere smile in your face drops when your stomach decides to grumble loud enough to be heard by the Duke, the man laughing at the sound, making your embarrassment worst.

"Would like to accompany me with dinner, dear? I have made plenty and this could be a small...celebratory feast for you"

"Celebratory? no offense, but...there's nothing to celebrate"

"Aren't you alive and able to walk?" he's so careful when serving some stew in a bowl, making sure not to spill a drop "I think that surviving whatever happened to you, is worth celebrating"

The bowl is warm in your hands and the smell is just divine, you take a seat on the floor waiting for the Duke to serve his bowl and then you dig in, sighing in appreciation when the rich taste of the broth fills your mouth, the softness of the meat and the carrots. You can see the Duke smile with pride when you compliment his cooking, enjoying each spoonful to the fullest.

"It's getting quite late Y/N and Lord Heisenberg is one to rise early, I suggest you go to bed or you end up feeling too tired tomorrow"

"Yeah...thanks for the meal Duke, I really appreciate it"

"Don't mention it and remember, the Duke's Emporium is here to satisfy all your shopping needs!"

You bid the man farewell and do the trek back to your room, taking time to memorize the way to the lift and the living quarters, the man might be a merchant but you want to get to know more about him, he seems nice, he's been the nicest one so far.

The living area feels cold and so terribly empty, there's no sign of Heisenberg anywhere, which you are thankful for. Only after entering your room and laying on your "bed", waiting a bit to hear any sound that might belong to the Lord, when only the sounds of the factory echo back to you do you dare to cry.

It starts slowly, your eyes fixated on the ceiling, then the flood gates open and you start to sob and scream, tears running down the side of your face to get lost in your hair leaving wet patches in their wake. But your crying evolves into fear, panic, raged breathing, and asking hands, all the weight of what happened today swallows you whole.

You don't know where to start, the way you growled at Heisenberg in the church, HOW he was able to move heavy metal without touching it? and all those corpses suspended ton hooks...the howls and things banging against the doors, the cruelty in how Heisenberg tossed you around and screamed in your face. How do you even managed to put and kept that brave face on when you were so scared is beyond you, you did it and that's enough.

The rapid and irregular movement of your chest does nothing but make your side hurt, the pain shoots up and down your body, making you curl on your side to alleviate the pressure if only a bit.

You want to die...but not like this, not terrified for your existence, not at the hands of a volatile man that can crush you with his hammer any day.

You want to live, but to live with your life depending on how well you perform your role? that's not a life at all.

Exhaustion and fatigue eventually take you away into a dreamless sleep, your last thought is...what's going to happen tomorrow?

You don't know, but as the Duke said, you survived whatever Miranda did to you and you will survive this too, no matter what, you will live.