#but blobs nonetheless

[lunar-caterpillar]

They are observing, like any good detective would.

[moonshynecybin]

i had a sore throat for a week straight too! and nothing helped, no tea, no big amounts of water, nothing, no meds. and then i slept one night with a scarf on and boom it was gone!

thank you very cool

[salaimoi]

“Ooo look! Doesn’t that one look just like us?” You exclaim while pointing your index finger to the baby-blue sky above you, a beaming smile tugging at your lips.

Ryomen Sukuna's eyes followed your leading hand, squinting once they had reached the two potato-like clouds you were pointing to. For a moment, he thought his vision was finally betraying him after 1,000 years-and-counting of being alive; that blob of air did not look like him in the slightest.

With two folded arms resting behind his head, he attempted to find a way to nicely break it to you that a measly cotton ball rip-off did not, in fact, coincide with his looks.

“How on Earth does that resemble me, woman?” He replied, a third hand petting your head as you comfortably rested against his chest.

You could hear the rhythmic heartbeat coming from under you, pounding softly against your ear as if you were holding a stethoscope to his body. A hum escapes your throat, playing alongside the pulsating melody he emitted.

“Maybe you’re not looking hard enough~”

Sukuna rolls his eyes in response, not having it with your teasing today. Bold of you to question his words, reckless, but nonetheless bold.

“I assure you,” he reiterated, ruffling your hair before his eyesight returned to the heavens above, “something as pathetic and feeble as a cloud is not something I’d compare myself to, you brat.”

He was only teasing you right back, but just like he expected, your expression had already dampened with disappointment. There was a feigned pout on your face as you glanced up at him — nonverbally speaking volumes the longer you held eye contact.

He knew you always dragged him on these silly sightseeing dates (not that he’d ever call them that) because you enjoyed seeing a softer side of his personality. It was silly of you to think he’d ever allow you to bear witness to such a thing — if he ever had it in the first place — but this time around, it seemed like you finally achieved what you so desperately desired.

“But,” he adds in an attempt to soften the blow, his hand reaching down towards your face so he could caress your cheek. The defeated man sighed one last time after falling victim to your guilt-tripping puppy eyes, internally questioning his entire existence from what was about to come out of his mouth.

“A cloud so… fluffy… and appealing,” he describes the thing hesitantly — for lack of better words, “is one I would use to describe you.”

Your ears perk up at the statement, the pretend pout from earlier quickly replaced by a smug grin.

“Oh my gosh what was that – I’m so sorry my ears must’ve missed it. Can you please say that again?”

In a not-so-innocent manner, you batted your eyelashes at the man, which was only met with a blank expression on the verge of breaking. He would’ve probably replied with something along the lines of, ‘bitch, are you deaf?’ Alas, the benevolent Sukuna himself decided to let you have this one — just this once.

‘Ahem!’ he cleared his throat to make sure you got his message this time around. “A cumulus pales in comparison to your beauty, little one.”

Rubbing tiny circles into your cheek, his gaze remained fixated on the two stupid clouds that set this whole absurd scene in motion. Silence befalls the conversation for a moment, your ears in disbelief at his words. Adding anything else would’ve probably single-handedly undone the atmosphere you worked so hard on creating, so you silently took this win… even if only for a few seconds.

“You totally have a crush on me, don’t you?”

“Need I file for divorce so you’ll quit spewing nonsense all the time?”

“Ooh so you’re in love! Even better~”

[the-kr8tor]

Someone asked me for some vampire!Hobie so here I come ☝️👀

The potion this time is some garlic gloves with cardamom in a heart-shaped bottle! Pretty please 🥹 I'm thinking about vampire!Hobie who can turn into a bat (ahem.. Astarion..) and by that he can surely do some night walks- flies? And he can't help but bring you, human!Reader, all sorts of trinklets and flowers and fruits he finds! He just loves to rest in your palm while you try out the blueberries he stole from the most expensive blueberry farm he could find 😅

I heard astarion and I folded immediately 🥴 Thank you for the request! I hope you love it 💕

Pairing: Vampire! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.6k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, cw food mention, Bat form! Hobie, Vampire AU, Fluff

Katy's one year celebration 🎉

Your bed practically lulls you to sleep while your comfort show helps fill in the silence of your dark bedroom. Eyes drifting close, head lolling off to the side, you jump when you hear squeaking and tapping at your window. Squinting, you blink away sleep, watching a black blob flying over your window, excessively tapping and scratching.

“Hobie?” You tilt your head, already walking closer to him, socked feet thudding across carpeted floors. You giggle at the sight of his tiny yet fuzzy bat form struggling to keep the plastic bag afloat with his claws. He squeaks frantically, and you swear you heard him curse. “Okay, okay, calm down, I'm opening it right now.” The second you unlock and open the window, he immediately flies into your room. Wings loudly flapping, he lands on your bed, dare you say to his face— cutely landing on your fluffy pink blanket. He looks right at home.

You kneel on the bedside, elbow propped up, chin placed atop your palm while your other hand gently pats his head. Now having a closer non sleepy look at him, you can see his leather vest (a tiny version complete with the patches and spikes) on his small bat body. Even with his long pointed ears, he still sports the similar piercings that shine under the low light of your lamp.

“Here to visit me?” You ask, and he leans his head against your touch, encouraging you to pet him more. “So spoiled, y’know you can just knock on my door in your human form, right?” His small crimson eyes blink at you and his head tilts at your question. Wordlessly telling you— ‘where’s the fun in that?’ You chuckle, “So what do you have for me, Hobat?” If bats can roll their eyes, Hobie would've done it already.

With his miniature foot, he kicks the bag towards you. Before looking, you try to guess what it is. Sometimes it's flowers that he picked up while flying, or small trinkets that fit on the palm of your hand. And currently, he loves giving you jewelry, you don't ask him where he got it though. You love it nonetheless.

Peeking inside, a bunch of blueberries greet you, they're all big and plump, you can practically taste the juice in your mouth. Your stomach rumbles at the thought. “Wow, you went all out.” You look at the logo on the plastic, recognizing that it's from the overpriced grocery store downtown. “Nice, holy shit! How'd you manage that?”

Hobie squeaks, a barrage of high pitched tones that are adorable but annoying as he goes on. You raise a brow at him, “you can just turn back to your human form, Hobie, I don't speak bat.” He shakes his tiny fuzzy head, red eyes staring back at you. “Oh,” you nod in understanding, “it's that kind of day, huh?” Waddling towards your hand, he holds your finger, patting it like you've done a good job of translating his squeaks and shrieks. “Alright, Hobat, go grab some paper towels because I will not have blueberry juice all over my bed.”

With a chirp, Hobie flaps his wings, flying above you and briefly landing on your head, teasing you with his wings atop your eyes. You giggle at his antics, acting like you're trying to swat him away.

While he sets off towards the kitchen, you sit down on the bed with the blankets covering you, hands already rummaging through the blueberries and popping them in your mouth. You let the sweet juice fill your taste buds, you're fully awake from how good they taste. You're sure you've eaten a handful before Hobie comes flapping back inside the bedroom, feet clutching the entire roll of paper towels.

You giggle at the familiar sight. “You look like a carrier pigeon.” He sticks his tiny pink tongue out to you, to which you grin wider.

He lands on your chest, paper towels rolling off to your side. His claws don't hurt as he tries to balance his weight so it doesn't puncture your favourite blanket. You pet his head with your blue stained finger. He suddenly grabs your finger before you could take it away, staring at the blue tint, he narrows his wine red eyes at you, head shaking slowly as if he's reprimanding you.

“What?” You shrug innocently, “I only ate a couple!”

Hobie sniffs at your finger, in his bat form it's hard to look intimidating or scary mostly when you're barely the size of a fist. You tamp down a giggle while his pink nose sniffs. He looks back at your lips where there's evidence of blueberry juice clinging to the corner of your mouth. He could use his telepathy and talk to you that way but this is more fun for him. Especially when it comes to teasing you.

He opens his maw, revealing sharp fangs. For a moment you thought that he'd bite you, your eyes widened at the thought. But he shuts his mouth closed, leaving his tongue out, giving you a little kitten lick across the pad of your finger.

You laugh at how his tiny licks tickle you, he clings to your finger tighter, bat body holding on to your hand for dear life as you try to yank him away. “Hobie!” Giggling, fingers wet, he finally gives you reprieve by flying away and landing on your chest with his body spread eagle, wings fully unfurled and relaxed. “Oh you big baby.” You come down from your fit of giggles, petting him briefly and then grabbing one blueberry to feed to him. He accepts it wholeheartedly, munching and chewing on the fruit like It's ambrosia, and even purring and humming. You can feel his happiness through the blanket as he practically vibrates.

This goes on for awhile, you feed him a piece, you eat the next couple ones until he squeaks impatiently. With your hand fully smelling of fruit, and the packaging empty, you wipe your hands clean while Hobie still lies on your chest, eyes fighting sleep.

After a moment of silence, his slow breaths tell you that your little vampire bat has fallen asleep. So you slide down on the bed from your sitting position to lie down properly, sleep already taking over. But you still don't close your eyes for fear that you might roll over and squish him in your sleep. Wooden stakes and the sun might be the only things able to kill him but you still don't want him to turn into a bat pancake.

Grabbing his body carefully, your hand wraps around his middle perfectly. After getting a hold of him while making sure you won't drop him, you pull him off your chest. You lift him up for only a moment before something stops you, or someone for that matter. Looking down, you see that with his tiny hands and feet that have sharp claws is clinging on the blanket, refusing to be separated from you. He's still asleep, tiny tummy protruding from his abundant midnight snack.

As much as you love the adorable sight, you have to take him off of you and place him on his side of the bed instead. So you start to wake him up, finger rubbing up and down his fuzzy back while you coo softly at him.

“Come on, Hobie, you gotta wake up. You can't sleep on top of me like this or I might squish you again. Remember last time?” With you booping at his pink nose, he stirs awake, red eyes blinking slowly at you. “There you are, sorry but I have to move you—” A poof of smoke appears and suddenly the weight on top of you gets heavier. “Hobie!” You gasp when he wraps all his long limbs around you, warm hand finding penchant on the small of your back, while the other has wiggled its way under your nape where calloused fingers rub along your skin just like you were doing to him a few minutes ago.

The smoke clears and you're greeted by a very smug vampire whose red eyes are aglow with amusement. “Evenin’”

“Hobie! You're heavy!” Your grin betrays you.

“You weren't complaining before,” he snuggles closer on your chest, nose nudging on the blanket. “‘sides, ‘m already comfortable.”

“Well I'm not and I'm just as sleepy.” Despite your words, your hands have found their way on his back, embracing him fully.

Hobie fakes a loud snore, head falling limp, and even lolling his tongue out for added effect. You chuckle, fingers massaging the knot on the back of his neck. With a groan, he holds on to you tighter as if he's not already impossibly close to you.

“You okay?” You ask, neck stretching down to kiss along his hairline.

“Yeah,” he says against the collar of your shirt. He's completely relaxed, “just want to be close to you.”

You've gotten used to his weight on top of you, smiling against his skin before you lay your head back down. “Okay, go to sleep.”

“Did you like the blueberries?” Hobie lifts his head up, chin placed on your chest.

You meet his eyes, “yes, it was really good. Thank you for bringing them.” He gives you his best smile, already thinking of ways he can get more. “Did you like it?”

“Yeah,” he lifts himself up, now hovering above you, inches away from your face, staring at you like you're the best thing in the world. He feels like you are. “But this is infinitely better.” You beam up at him, and with that he meets you halfway for a saccharin, blueberry juice kiss.

[sorcererofsolitude]

After 15 years of marriage, it's clear that Wednesday needs glasses. The only problem is, well... Wednesday.

Enid: Willa, you NEED to see an optometrist. You nearly tripped over our child!

Wednesday: I can see perfectly fine, sentient colorful blob.

Enid, crossing her arms: I won't bake a single thing until you get your eyes checked.

Wednesday, eyes wide: ...you wouldn’t dare.

Enid: Try me. You won't eat a fresh brioche roll for a year.

Wednesday: You monster. You have bested me, I concede... make the appointment.

Enid, kissing Wednesday on the nose: That's more like it. I love you, babycakes.

Wednesday grumbles but accepts the affection nonetheless. Regrettably, Yoko and Divina were right. She was whipped.

AO3: SorcererOfSolitude

[bitter-me]

Hey ! I have seen you write for Twisted Wonderland ?👀

Can I ask for Ignihyde or Diasomnia students with a boy [friend or not, you choose] who is like Sherlock (from BBC if you have watch) ? I just know he will try to understand how overblot work and why there is a lot of overblot-

Ignore it if you don't want to write it ! And have a good day ! Or night ? Idk when you will see it (if you see it)-

The Game is On!

Ignihyde Students | M. Reader as Sherlock Holmes [BBC]

----------

"I’m not a psychopath, Anderson. I’m a high-functioning sociopath. Do your research!"

----------

The day [Name] Holmes has entered Night Raven College was the day Azul had become even richer.

Ever wonder if your crush likes you back? Or maybe you wanted to know yourself better? Or perhaps you wanted to know if your partner's cheating on you? Well look no further than the Mostro Lounge!

Being stranded in a different universe, [Name] merely sees it as an opportunity to gain more information and funding. This whole new world is so much more interesting than his previously awfully predictable world.

Which then led to Ignihyde's Housewarden's first encounter with the high-functioning sociopath. At first Idia found it skeptical that someone could have the ability to see right through everything and anything. Until [Name] had read him like an open book in their first meeting.

To say that Idia was traumatized by the sudden exposure is an understatement. But after calming down, he can't help but think on how similarly [Name] acts with one of the characters in the anime he watched. Cough Moriarty the Patriot cough. But nonetheless, the two of them soon bonded and became close with one another.

Before long, [Name] was introduced to Ortho and his interest was immediately peeked by Idia's "younger brother."

Although school life is as boring as his world's. It's just the same thing but with magic and stuff... but all of a sudden these things called "Overblot" showed up? Oh he got to know what this is about right away!

----------

Idia Shroud

"Um.."

"Shh."

He instantly shut up the moment he was hushed by the other. Just when he decided to leave his room and visit the Ramshackle for a change. Idia was greeted by a sight he never thought he would ever see in his life! [Name] pacing around his room with two hands together placed underneath his chin and the elephant in the room.. His room was filled with papers and stings attracted on the walls!

Idia thought that his room is messy but this is just on another level!

Newspapers, printed out articles, [Name] own illedgiment handwriting, etc. Every single wall is covered in it with some strings connecting some parts.

This thing. This "Overblot."

Why did it happen? Is it because of intense emotions? Negative or positive? Does it really matter? And why do they show up in a blob, ink-like thing? The stain on the gems of their pens? Is this common? Or are they something one has to go through once in their lives? Like puberty? So many questions. So little time.

Idia could only sit and watch as [Name] drove himself insane. He knew that S.T.Y.X. is also trying to figure this whole Overblot out too. But seeing how unhinged [Name]'s acting while also trying to figure out the same thing his family is doing is just concerning. It drove Idia to the edge just how... [Name]'s acting..

There's a thin line between inquiry and insanity. And [Name] is using that line like a freaking jump rope!

----------

Ortho Shroud

[Platonic]

The day the high-functioning sociopath saw Ortho. His interest is peeked. A robot? That acts like a human? Even back in his world this would've taken years maybe even centuries to accomplish with how incompetent the human kind is! Therefore, [Name] would ask Ortho multiple questions within the span of a minute. I live for Sherlock's rapid fire deductions and questioning.

And how [Name] loved it when Ortho answered each and every question without him needing to repeat himself nor explain it. Ortho's happy to help whenever he can! He was so happy that his brother made a friend!

Whenever he saw [Name] pacing around like a mad man. Ortho tries to help by either reducing [Name]'s burden and helping him to make deductions and hypotheses or by simply bringing snacks and reminding him to rest.

While Idia looks at [Name] with a nervous and unsure expression. Ortho steps in by suggesting that maybe he should rest. "[Name] maybe you should take a nap! If you do, your productivity will go up by 10℅ or maybe even more! And since you're energized, you could be more focused and—"

"I'll rest once I've figured this out."

Oh boy. This is going to be a long day for the three of them huh..

[edgeray]

Vixen

(Arlecchino x Reader Blurb)

A/N: Last Arlecchino post before I go back to classes. 😿This is a hybrid au! blurb from my poll, and it's likely I won't make a oneshot out of this idea. It's still a really cute concept, so maybe I'll make another blurb of this concept or another hybrid au! idea. concept. Shoutout to @megistusdiary for this adorable idea of Artic Fox Arlecchino! (Love you CEO of Arlecchino!) For those of you guys that weren't entirely... pleased with my 'Arlecchino is not a person' blurb I offer this piece in favor of having my life spared. Content Warning: Pretty OOC for Arlecchino, mentioned but not graphic injury, 2.2k words

Arlecchino is as beautiful as snow.

It's the first thing you've noticed when your eyes laid upon the hybrid Harbinger. Beneath the silky snow-white fur and graceful, cordial appearance, you recognize that a predator laid underneath her exterior; a feral fox ready to lash at anything that so much as touches what was deemed hers. You don't let her sleek, fluffy coat distract you from her red-crossed eyes or her black claws.

Still, it is futile to deny her beauty.

You recall your first meeting with her in Snezhnaya, trudging through its frosty forests in nearly knee-deep snow. You don't quite remember what your purpose for being there was, though you ventured out to the wilderness behind your home often with no real purpose. Snow crunching underneath your boots, you admire the pristine, white landscape that no other place in Teyvat could display.

Here, your sight is met with a frost-covered plane, a frozen river cutting between you and a forest, the silhouette of a grand mountain behind the conifers. The sun hangs low, just above the peaks of the mountain, painting the sky as a gradient of topaz oranges and honey yellows. The only noise that fills the air is the whispers of the occasional winter breeze, blowing through your hair and making you shiver. Captivated by this picturesque scene, you simply stand and observe what's around you, your stare unbreaking.

That is until your ears pick up on a noise, a soft whine in the distance. You can tell it's not human-like, more like a cry that a puppy would make, but nonetheless, you're curious. There's another similar sound, this one more faint, but you let your ears guide you to the source of the noise until you near the edge of another wooded area of the wilderness.

What your eyes set on shocks you. A relatively large white blob sits amongst red patches of snow around. Is that blood? Approaching closer, you realize it's a rather large animal with white fur, and you assume that it's a Snezhnayan Snow Wolf from its size, though it's hard to tell with its back turned away. It's struggling to stand up fully; one of its hind legs appears to be injured given how it's not putting as much weight on it when it limps through the snow. You watch it struggle a little, wary of approaching a wild animal especially one of that size before you witness it collapse. Not intent on just observing the poor creature, you walks towards it, making your presence known so as to not startle it abruptly.

It whips its head and locks eyes with you. It is then, you chillingly discern, that this is no ordinary Teyvat creature. It's bigger than what wolves can grow up to, and its ears and tails don't match that of a wolf. Its ears are shorter in height and more triangular and its tail is much thicker than the average wolf's. Notably, on its legs, the fur darkens from white to pitch black, the color encompassing its feet entirely. This is something unseen in any snow creature you've come across. But most striking of all is its gaze. Red pupils with ebony eyes matching its feet, it watches you calculatingly.

You expect it to growl or snarl or make any sort of noise a wild, cornered creature would, but you get nothing besides continued staring. It's unsettling, but it should be a good thing that it hasn't perceived you as a threat yet, right. Regardless though, you still try to verbally communicate with it.

"Hey, I'm just here to help okay? I won't hurt you. If I do, you can, I don't know, bite my face off or something?" You awkwardly reassure it as you kneel beside the animal. It simply tilts its head to lock eye contact, and you half-expect it to bite you without warning.

Although it feels pointless to talk to a wild animal, you ask, "Can I touch you?" Expectedly, there's no response, but you take it as permission. You place a tentative hand over its fur, brushing your hand through its fur. It's incredibly soft, almost like how you'd imagine what touching a cloud feels like. It's a light and immaculate coat. But you didn't come here just to pet it.

"You have a really pretty coat," you compliment the fox(? Let's stick with that for now), before your fingers trail down to where the blood originated. It's a clean, deep laceration across the length of its back leg. What could have injured it like this? There's no other marks on the leg, so it can't be a claw from another animal. This was a precise cut, something that only a human can do.

"Did someone do this to you?" You wonder out loud in a sorrowful tone. What kind of human could harm such a beautiful creature? Unbeknownst to you, its ears twitched in response.

You get to work treating the wound with the emergency equipment you always carried when you ventured. There's no resistance or protest from canine, and you question if this is really an animal you're treating. How it hadn't budged one bit as you cleaned its wound, you're not sure, but you're just glad it hasn't shown one sign of aggression towards you. If you clean it and allow the skin to heal, the cut will likely heal independently. Once you've wrapped the final bandage around its leg, you glance at the fox's eyes again.

Not even once did it stop watching you.

You try to comfort yourself from the disturbing fact by observing how cute it is and imagining what it would be like to snuggle with it. It's when you notice the sun was setting, and dusk is approaching quickly. This typically wouldn't be a problem, but as you increasingly grew worried, a distinct problem struck out. You're lost.

"Well, shit."

Guess you have to set up camp. You hate the thought of having to spend the night out here, but you have no choice. You won't be able to make out anything soon from how dark this place gets. It's not your first time doing so, but you hate it still. With the remaining minutes of sun you have left, you gather as many sticks and branches as possible before you light them with a match, creating a campfire. You lay a little close to the fox, which seems to have also decided to make the campfire its resting place for now.

You cocoon yourself with a thick blanket.

"You'll keep me safe, right...?" You ask of the fox. No response. How very assuring.

Despite the bundles of fabric purposed for helping with extreme temperatures, you find yourself still shivering. You're cold, not to the point of frostbite, but your form can't stop trembling, your teeth chattering.

"It's too fucking cold for this shit," you groan, hugging yourself for extra warmth and curling into a fetal position. As you curse yourself for getting lost, you hear a shuffle, and the crunch of snow. Before you can even search for the origins of the sound, you feel a warm, large weight against your back--it's something soft. You look over your shoulder to see white fur and then look back to where the fox was originally: it's no longer there. Instead, it's pressed against you, sharing its body warmth with you.

"Mmm... good kit," you tiredly drawl as you absorb its heat greedily, enjoying the texture of its coat. It makes falling asleep easy.

Before you drift to sleep, you swore you heard a human, feminine voice purr from behind you.

"Annoying little vixen."

When you wake up, you expect to be met with white--white snow and fur. You are only met with one of those. Your eyes adjust to the pricking sunlight that stab into your vision. Surprisingly, you're warm even with the chill that you feel cascade against your cheeks. Memories of the night prior start piecing together. You still feel the fox's presence, though, strangely, the weight behind you doesn't seem nearly as soft or large as you remember. And something is draped around your midsection. You look down, expecting to a fur-covered limb.

Instead, it's a human arm that is wraps around your form, holding flushed against a person and your heart skids to a stop. The forearm is black with gold and ebony markings on its surface, but the dark color fades into pale skin. Is this person even human? A humanoid? A hybrid? With your rising panic, you become increasingly more aware of the presence that has you encaged in their embrace. You can't turn to look who is behind you in fear of waking them up--you don't know what they'll do to you once they're awake.

The soft snoring behind your ear and the warm breath brushing against your nape makes you shiver. However, what you do notice is how warm their body is; they exude a body heat that's abnormal. Do they produce their own heat from within? You know of very little creatures that can do that, let alone humans. Maybe an external source? Like a vision?

Then a sudden thought comes to you. Has this person been... sleeping with you to keep you warm? Is this person somehow the fox you helped? Deciding to risk it, you twist your head to look over your shoulder.

Red-crossed pupils glare back at you and your entire form freezes. Faced with perhaps the most gorgeous woman ever, a pale, unblemished face framed by ivory hair and some ebony strands appear before you.

"You're awake," her gruff voice comes out and the tips of your ears burn from being caught awake.

"Y-yes," you stammer out, still trying to recover from the shock. "Thank you for keeping me warm."

She hums in response before unfurling her arm from your body and standing up. Immediately, your body misses her warmth and you shudder, wrapping the blanket around you tighter. You sit up with her and it's then that you realize that she is indeed a hybrid. The same ears from the fox last night matches those on her head, and there's a tail that swishes lightly from behind her.

You take the time to admire her clothes, the question of where she got them slipping from your mind. She dons a marble white and slate gray jacket over a corset-type shirt with black and a matching gray and wears black pants. Her outfit reminds you of similar attire to Snezynayan nobles. What is someone of her status out here? Something about her seems vaguely familiar, though you don't quite know why.

"You're the... fox from last night," you dumbly state.

"Correct."

"But you're a human now."

"Astute observation," she huffed with a bit of mockery in her voice and you chuck snow in her direction.

"I've never seen a hybrid before, cut me some slack!" You snap back in faux anger. You let out a sigh, before you flick your attention to her leg. You can't see the wound because of her leggings, but you presume that it's still there.

"Who hurt you before?" You rasp out, corner eminent in your words and expression.

"That's not of your concern," she answers in a curt manner, making you wince.

You bite your bottom lip, a bit frustrated from the quick shut refusal, but you know she shouldn't pry. For as beautiful as she is, both in her human and fox form, you know just from the unsettling... sensation she emitted that she was dangerous, not to be disturbed or poked to much. You figure you should probing her on what led to this situation.

"Can I know who you are?" You question instead.

The fox hybrid steeps in silence for a few moments. Her facial muscles softening just the bit, the red flare in her eyes glowing. Then, a crack in her hardened expression, a small smile graces her lips.

"Arlecchino."

Bonus (Content Warning: VERY Suggestive. Like the closest thing to a smut I'll get.)

"Arlecchino."

"Mmh?"

"I need to get up."

"Just a little longer, kit."

"Arle, I love you, but I will kick you."

"With what functioning legs?"

"Is this why you wanted to dick me down? So you can harass me with no consequences?"

"Exactly."

You grit your teeth, trying to peel her arms off of your bare form, but the fox hybrid persists, keeping you glued to her as she nibbles gently on the skin of your nape. To emphasize her hold, her tail curls around one of your legs, its grasp tight and ensuring you can't go anywhere.

"Annoying little vixen," you groan, pulling the covers off of the two of you.

Arlecchino purrs into your shoulder, and her hands trail from your midsection down to your hips. Her tail caresses your inner thigh and you shudder.

"Again?" You gasp in dulled surprise as you feel her rise and she flips your body over to be beneath her. One blackened claw hand finds yours, intertwining your fingers with hers and pressing your hand into the mattress behind you. The other hooks underneath one of your legs, raising the leg over her shoulder.

"Of course. After all, I need to ensure you take my kits."

[eyesxxyou]

❝ monster under the bed ❞ (hobie x black ftm trans!reader

｡ﾟ･ ¡ content. monsterfucking. kinda dub-con. usage of shadow tentacles. reader is ftm trans. hobie calls you a good boy. mating press. mentions of somnophilia. hobie's a little bit of a creep. reader calls hobie "freak", "creature", and "it".

You’ve been staring at your closet for an hour now, terrified out of your feeble, little mind with a knife in your trembling hand. Tears glazed over your eyes, your bottom lip quivering with untold fear. You’re too scared to get off your bed, scared that he might be under there as well, might grab your ankle and drag you under. What things it would do to you.

You never before believed in monsters, not since you were a child and used to have your parents check every night before you went to bed to assure you that there was no monster waiting to come from under your end and eat you whole. Oh if only they could see you now. A paranoid mess on the verge of tears in your own home. You still closed your closet door at night and jumped into bed simply out of habit, not because you were scared, not until recently.

It started with the slight caresses of your limbs whenever they lie outside the confines of your bed, like cool fingers touching and grasping your ankles and wrists until you ripped away, yanked your limbs back onto your bed with a startled gasp. Tender touches against your thighs and hips as you change beside your closet door left slightly ajar. The door opened on its own in the middle of the night, you witnessed it with your own eyes. The knob twisted as if someone on the inside had grabbed and turned it but when you checked, there was nothing.

There was the pair of glowing eyes you swore you saw when you looked under your bed for something you had dropped beneath it. It receded into the darkness quickly, so swiftly you thought you might have been imagining things. But it terrified you nonetheless. 

Then there was the figure standing at the foot of your bed. It was dark. An amalgamation of shadows that held nothing but the obvious outline of a very tall man standing there, watching with those glowing gold eyes you had seen before. You had screamed, turned on the light, and he was gone. You thought you were losing it. Were you losing it? What was happening to you?

You always kept a knife close. You were a trans man living alone, it was for your protection. Who knows what sick bastard would follow you home and try to break in. You had grabbed it with a swiftness you never knew you were capable of and went about your house, searching, clearing every room until you were sure no one was in your home. You slept with the lights on that night.

But he was back, the figure. You saw it, saw its hand reach out from your closet, and another one reach out from under your bed. You grabbed your knife again, both hands wrapped around the hilt to stop your hand from shaking. “Whoever you are, come out! I’m not scared of you!” But your voice trembled and revealed your fear. “I have a weapon and I’m not afraid to use it.”

There was silence, silence so still you could hear your erratic breathing. Your gaze flickered between the foot of your bed and the closet, eyes well enough adjusted to the dark to see if anything came from either. 

It was the foot of your bed where it came from. A shadowy hand reached out, seemingly coming from under your bed, and grabbed your sheets for leverage as it dragged itself up slowly. The thing, the creature, was nothing but a blob of darkness at first but slowly gained more form and shape as it rose to its staggering height. You watched with wide eyes and parted lips that let shivering breaths escape you.

It chuckled, it laughed at you. Slowly you began to see a smile take shape in there as its face formed from nothing but black smoke. If you weren’t terrified out of your mind, you would have thought him the most gorgeous person – thing – you’ve ever seen. With wild black hair, dark skin, even darker lips, piercings that glint under the fading moonlight.

Something about the inhuman human made you all the more scared for your life. You scrambled back, to the very top of your bed as he began to walk around the side toward you, your knife pointed at him the entire way. “S-stay back!” You sputtered out, breathless and terrified. It did not deter him.

“Ya know how long ‘ve wai’ed f’this moment, lil birdy?” The baritone of his voice felt familiar, everything about him felt so familiar, as if you’ve known him this entire time. He’s been here for years, watching, listening, waiting for the right moment to reveal himself to you. All the touches, then breezes, the caresses of your frame. All of it was him, just wanting to make himself known.

You saw a shadow slither around the blade of your knife and yank it from your hands, tossing it to the floor with a metallic clatter. Your only defense against this intruder gone in the blink of an eye.“‘M no’ gonna hurt’cha, dove.” He reached out for you. cool fingers stroking the round of your cheek. You shiver, looking up at him as you made a motion to pull away. “No,” he mutters, “jus’ relax.”

“What– what the hell are you? Who are you? Why are you in my house?”

There was a lit in the man-like creature’s voice as he smirked and spoke. “Jus’ call me Hobie.” He avoided the other questions as if you hadn’t even asked them. His fingers grasped your chin when you looked away from him and towards your door, forced your eyes upon him once more. Hobie tsked at you, clicking his tongue as he shook his head with a slow sort of disappointment. “Don’ even think ‘bout i’, dove. Why ya tryna run from me? Ya know me.”

You know him? You don’t know him. Your brows pinch with confusion as you shake your head. “I don’t-”

“Ya do, birdy. Ya know me.” He sits on the edge of your bed beside you, his fingers still grasping you. ”Ya think all those nasty lil dreams you’ve been havin’ since ya moved here were jus’ ya imagination?” Hobie’s thumb comes to rest against your bottom lip, swiping from left to right, right to left, his hazelnut eyes glowing softly as he looks at your lips. “Ya body knows me a’ least.”

You don’t know why you’re not ripping away from him, why your fear has settled. 

“Open.” His voice is gentle yet demanding and without thought, your lips part as if it were waiting for a command all this time. A smirk pulled at the corners of his lips as he eased his thumb onto your warm tongue, pressing down just a bit to keep you from talking. “See, ya know me, dovey. Don’ pretend like ya don’. Yer always such a good boy f’me.”

It was like he was sedating you, forcibly calming you when you knew you should be biting his thumb off. Was this freak touching you at night while you slept? Did he watch you when you touched yourself after wet dreams that left you wet and sticky. Wet dreams he had caused? Your body shivered with the thought and you weren’t sure if it was from disgust or something far more horrifying. A shiver of pleasure.

You felt something cool slither up along the inner part of your thigh. As you glanced down, you saw a shadow slipping beneath the pair of boxers you wear to bed. It slid across the axis of where your pelvis met your thighs and caressed your warm, soft lips. It slid between your pussy lips, breaking off into two separate appendages. One for your clit and one for your pretty, little hole that’s been left neglected by you for quite some time now.

Hobie pulled his thumb from your mouth and leaned in to push his lips onto yours. They were cold against your warm ones, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips. You didn’t know what to do except accept. Your mind told you to stop, that this wasn’t right. You have no idea what this thing was but your body, aching, didn’t seem to care.

Hesitantly, you parted your lips for him. Hobie hummed with satisfaction, a smile easing onto his lips. “There ya go. There’s ma favorite boy.” His tongue overtook yours, stroking with a precision you weren’t sure you ever felt from another lover. His kiss was wet, sloppy, filled with soft, breathless moans from your hot mouth as his appendages work away at your cunt.

You let out something of a low groan when one of the shadows pushed into your slick hole. It was thick and full and offered you no kindness as it thrusted into you inch by inch until you were filled to the brim with it. The coolness of it made you shiver violently against Hobie, who’s hands parted your legs to give his shadows enough space to do as he pleased them to.

“Ya remember this?” He crooned at you, his fingers gripping your thighs, his claws digging into flesh yet not enough to puncture, just enough to cause the slightest bit of pain to mingle with the fact that his shadows were playing with your engorged clit, sliding beneath the hood to get to the sweet spot. “I did this to ya las’ week. Ya woke up before I couldn't finish ya off.”

The other stuffed you full, stroked every one of your ridges and sweet spots until you were gasping for air. “Ngh~ please! Oh my God!” It pushed in and out of you, so hard you felt your entire body rock and shudder. “S-slow down mmh~” you could feel the thing circle your cervix, kissing it so softly with the languid tip.

“I know ya can take i’, lil bird.” He shifted his grip on your legs and moved his hands beneath your thighs to press them against your chest. Your boxers were pulled out of the way with another shadow to expose your puffy cunt plugged up with a dark appendage, the other lavishing over your firm clit. “Jus’ take i’.” 

His lips are on yours again, firm and cool, tongue claiming your mouth until drool began to seep from the corners where your lips were sealed. Hobie smiled into your kiss, your body writing beneath his hold. Your eyes are half-closed and fucked out, your body thrashing with something far more otherworldly than just pleasure.

You couldn't understand why you were letting this happen. What the hell was he doing to you? Or was this truly just your body falling into what it already knows. Him. It. This thing and his shadows. He kissed you more passionately than any man has and was fucking you better than you could imagine.

The sound of it was filthy. The soft squelch of his shadow forcing its way in and out of you permeated the room and mingled with your muffled moans against his impassioned kiss. He’s been waiting for this for so long and he���ll be damned if he didn't revel in the satisfaction of having you all bent out of shape for him. He could feel you through his shadow, your tightness, your desperation, the pull of your soft, wanton cunt.

“Do ya know what torture feels like?” Hobie asks and you’re tempted to say yes with the way his shadow lapped at your swollen clit and filled your cunt to the brim, stretching and molding to your every dip, curve, and ridge until no spot was left untouched. It filled you perfectly, so perfect you could weep with pleasure.

“Torture is havin’ to watch ma lil dove touch himself and I can' do a damn thing about i’ ‘cause I don' wanna scare ‘im.” You let out another broken moan while the shadows seem to work in unison, his large hands pressing your thighs harder to your chest, opening you up a little more to make more room for him to stuff your cunt a little more.

You’re open and exposed, shamelessly so. The darkness allows for all the things you would have shunned in the light. Something was dripping from your pussy, down the round of your ass, maybe your wetness oozing, being pushed out by his shadow.

Hobie chuckled softly while watching your eyes roll and your saliva-wet lips fall open. “I don't scare ya, lil dovey, do I?”

You wanted to say yes, that he terrified the hell out of you but as you opened your mouth, all you could do was let out something of a whiny, needy, little moan. “Please.” That’s all you could muster, the shudder of an orgasm beginning to make itself known in the pit of your belly.

You couldn't handle it. It was simply so intense, so demanding of you all your energy. “I can't-”

“Ya can,” Hobie insisted. “Lemme taste ya cum. I need i’. Lemme take wha’ I need, then I’ll go f’the nigh’.” He glanced out the window to find the sky growing lighter; the dark was being pushed away by dawn. It wouldn't be long until the sun crested over the horizon and he’d have to go back into hiding beneath your bed where he'd wait patiently for you to climb back into your bed, maybe touch yourself a bit, get yourself ready for his assault on your body the next night.

Your body rolled, thrashed, quivered with the beginnings of your climax. The walls of your pussy clamped and pulsed and Hobie let out a heavy breath. He could feel you, his shadow coaxing out your pretty moans as it stroked your gummy walls and kissed at your cervix oh so gently. 

Your mind felt fuzzy. Your vision went in and out of focus. Your hands gripped at your sheets before relaxing all together. You shuddered with the aftershock, breath labored and hitching with every exhale. 

Hobie released you and your legs fell onto your bed as his shadows receded back into the darkness as if they had never been there in the first place but the slick, sticky cum against your thighs and underwear left proof of their presence.

“I wish I could stay a lil longa, birdy, get one more outta ya, but I gotta go.” He pressed his lips to yours, a kiss not reciprocated. You were too tired, too fucked out. You couldn’t imagine having to undergo a second one, you couldn’t believe you had let him drag even a single one out of you. 

Hobie turned to whisper in your ear, his hand stroking your thigh tenderly. “I’ll see you tonight, dove.” He stood up, glancing at the window just as the sun was beginning to rise just over the treeline. He began to lose his form and became nothing more than a shadow creature once more, melting away into an amorphous blob before slithering back beneath your bed. 

You scrambled up, chest heaving as you leaped from your bed and dropped down to your hands and knees to look for him beneath your bed frame. There was nothing, just the other side of your room, you could see straight through. You swallowed nervously and lied on the cool hardwood of your floor.

Your mind was empty, wiped completely blank by your orgasm. There was a single thought on your mind, just one. What the fuck just happened?

There was a monster that lives under your bed it had fucked you so good you might never recover from it.

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Write a fic about where you are attending kindergarten and then there's a rat fighting off foot ninjas

and then TMNT x reader

Ninjas In Kindergarten (Angst?/Crack?/Fluff?)

Bayverse!Turtles x reader

A/N: In honor of the second rat we found in the toilet today, along with the signs of rats in the other parts of the kindergarten, daycare and staff room, I bring you this. I’ve changed it from Foot ninjas to a mouser, and brought the turtles in just for the fun of it. And oh yeah, they brought the rat hound in again. IT FOUND ANOTHER RAT WHILE WE WERE THERE. What an internship. It isn’t boring I tell ya.

Btw, me and the kids are now joking that it's Master Splinter’s unmutated family that wishes to recruit ninjas on their own. These little ninjas now do a double check before using the toilet.

Warning: Kids in danger, crying children, and spelling like always.

It was a surprisingly calm day for a Monday in a kindergarten. All handovers of the kids from their parents had gone smoothly, with the kids happily playing together on the mats, the pillow room or the play kitchen. Even the girl that tended to cry whenever her mother dropped her off was in a somewhat good mood, drawing with her two best friends at one of the tables.

You sat by the play kitchen area, plastic food all around you as the boys and girls around you handed you food, acting as if you were the only guest in an overstaffed restaurant. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see one of the adults cutting up fruit, while another one brought more pencils to the drawing table, all while the third one was changing diapers on the three youngest kids.

It was nice to finally have a calm day at your internship. The past few weeks had been somewhat chaotic. Not so chaotic that you couldn’t keep afloat, but enough to make you very tired whenever you finally got home. But damn it, these sweet kids made the whole ordeal worth it, only making you excited for the day you would have your own.

You and your boyfriend had started to talk about children. Nothing was set in stone yet, but the topic had been up several times. Well, if it was possible that was. With your boyfriend’s… less than human nature, none of you were sure that a child would even be possible. But nonetheless you dreamed, finding your heart jump whenever one of the kids accidentally called you mom.

“(Y/N)!”, one of the girls at the table called out, running to you with the drawing in her hands. Her 4 year old face, bright eyes and happy smile shined proudly as she held up her drawing for you. It was a blob of colors with no form of meaning, but nonetheless she was happy. “I made it for my mom!”

“Woooow!”, you smiled, leaning forward to show interest in the paper and the many doodles on it. “Did you really make that all by yourself?”

“Yes!”, she said with a little happy jump. “All by myself!”

“I think your mother is going to like it a lot”, you said, smiling as another kid handed you yet another piece of plastic food, adding it to the growing pile in your lap. “I think you should put it in your drawer. Then mommy will know where it is”.

“Okay!”, she smiled, running to her drawer with a skip in her steps.

With the paper in one hand, she opened her drawer, only to jump back with a scream, causing you and the other adult to jump, all turning your attention her way, all the kids doing the same in quiet shock. In her drawer was a mechanine, the size of a mouth, with one bright red lamp where its eyes should be, walking around on two feet. You jumped at the sight, knowing exactly what it was. You had seen such a thing several times with your boyfriend and his brothers, during your run ins with one certain scientist.

You quickly ran to the girl and pulled her back, just before the mouser jumped out of the drawer, snapping out at you. All the kids let out a scream, running for the farest corner in order to get away from the mouser.

In one swift move, you pressed the number that the turtles had given you onto the keyboard, sending an alarm signal to the ninjas, before giving the mouser a hard kick as it tried to get near you and the poor crying girl.

“Up on the tables!”, you yelled over your shoulder to the three other adults, quickly helping the girl up on the nearest table, before helping the next kid. “Keep the mouser away from the kids!”

And so you did, getting all the kids up on the tables, ignoring the questioning looks from the other pedagogues, as they wondered how you knew what that thing was.

You got the last kid up on the table, kicking the mouser back once more, before quickly jumping up on the table to the kids, before it could bite at your ankles. The kids on the table hug you tightly, crying as the mouser started to bite at the wooden legs of the table, trying to get it to fall.

Suddenly the door swung up, revealing your mutant turtle boyfriend in the front and his brothers right behind him. The moment he spotted the mouser at the feet of your table, he jumped into action, smashing it into pieces with his weapons, causing the room to fall quiet. Thankfully the kids weren't crying at the moment, but you could tell by the looks on their faces that the sight of four mutant ninja turtles would soon cause another round of crying.

“So”, you said, trying to defuse the building intensity in the room. “Kids, this is my boyfriend. You know, the one that was a little different with strong muscles? That is him”.

Your boyfriend waved at the kids with a somewhat awkward smile. When he and his brothers gave you that emergency number, he had never thought he would have to come and save you, three pedagogues and a bunch of kids from a rogue mouser.

To his surprise, one of the kids poked at him, staring at him with their big eyes and runny nose, not fearing his big frame as he looked at them.

“Are you green because you ate broccoli?”

“Yes”, your boyfriend answered with a smile, before knocking on his shell. “And I got this from drinking coconut milk”.

“Oh boy”, was the only thing you could mutter, before the questions came flying, all of the kids wanting to learn about your strange boyfriend and his brothers.

It didn’t take long before the kids started playing with your boyfriend and the other turtles. With Mikey they took turns to jump on the smashed mouser, laughing loudly at the sounds it made. Donnie drew with girls, taking a look at the drawing the girl from before had made. Raph played a throwing game, throwing the kids into a pile of pillows one by one, while Leo was making a tower of building blocks with the quiet kids, their eyes growing wider the taller the tower got.

It was safe to say that you would have to bring your boyfriend and his family to your internship a little more often, especially when the kids started screaming and asking you to bring them once again. There was nothing you could do. The kids had turned into big fans of the ninja turtles. And it was adorable.

[limeade-l3sbian]

Im sure you have noticed many radfems talk of how men will use their spouse/partner as basically a second mother, having her do all the chores, the emotional labour, the organisation, etc. And I agree with this take.

But can we talk about how a lot of women, especially trad adjacent ones, also see their male partner as almost a parental figure. The amount of times i’ve seen women use different versions of “I just want a man that can think for me” is too many to count at this point. And it’s common. It’s seen in so much romance media, where the man takes control of everything, all the big decisions. It’s become a whole trope in heterosexual romance books and stories, of a rich man with control issues who sweeps some woman off her feet and makes it so she basically just disappears in his embrace.

This is gonna sound super harsh, but please know it isn’t meant as a critique of them as much as something i’ve noticed. I really do believe a lot of women who crave old school gender roles are very lazy, “useless”(to themselves) people who don’t want to amount to anything in life. The idea of struggle and hardship, heck, even just working TOWARDS something, it scares them so much they would rather be shapeless blobs controlled by someone else. That’s why they fetishize that traditional life style for women. Obviously WE know the women of that time and current time too in those types of homes aren’t just sitting around all day doing nothing, but I really do think a lot of women use it as an escapism fantasy from life.

The way a lot of them describe their sexual fantasies is similar, it’s always what is done to them, like they aren’t actually active participants, like they don’t actually have to make any choices.

I think the reason a lot of men crave a parental figure partner vs the reason a lot of women crave one is very different but they seem to be extremely common nonetheless. And with women I also know it’s a very complex issue of both society telling us our worth, the fact that women nowadays even as the more educated demographic STILL do more housework and emotional labour in relationships, capitalism being horrifyingly exhausting to live under, I could go on. But the point is, I think certain women crave a life of no consequences so that whole “i’m just a girl” and “he thinks for me, he makes the choices” mentality thats unfortunately had a huge uptick in popularity in recent years, I do think it’s women craving a parental figure as a partner. Not to say it’s anything linked to incest, i’m not trying to make freudian connections here, but I think the role of a parent is to take responsibility for the child and they crave that floating consequence free existence of a child.

I dunno, is what I’m saying completely deranged? Let me know.

Anon, I'm gonna try to be respectful and hold your hand when I say this... YOU'RE RIGHT! Thought I was gonna get condescending on your ass, huh? 😎🤪

Firstly, don't undercut your words with "I dunno." You made a completely logical point and casually explained yourself so eloquently I wouldn't be surprised if English wasn't your first language.

Secondly! I have seen this too! This weird, "take care of me" emphasis from both sides of the camp. Is it laziness? I wouldn't cast that aside for a second. But I think it's also this strange reaction to the present world. At least in the U.S., the economy is shit and people kind of already know that shit is just going to be hard, no matter what. And as humans, we have a weird tendency to swing the pendulum completely to the left or the right. So our reaction to very real, economic hardship that requires frequent "grinding" is to desire a complete release of the wheel, and to have someone else handle the hard stuff.

For some reason, according to social media, you either need to be grindset girl boss or a trad trophy wife which is...yeah. But I don't doubt your point being more of a reason for this. It's bizarre, and you're not crazy.

[wrestletotheground]

gingerbread house - matty healy x reader

christmas prompt courtesy of @abiiors ♡

festive dad!matty

cw: fluff, f!reader, slight nsfw at the start, pregnancy announcement, just wholesome dad matty <3

wc: 1.6k

- december 12th 2021 -

matty dips his finger in the bowl of icing, smearing a dot of it on your nose with a giggle before you can protest. 'fuck off,' you laugh, pulling away and grabbing ahold of his wrists before he can do it again. 'oh, sorry, you have someth-' he reaches towards your face again playfully, before giving up and throwing his hands up in surrender as you duck away from him, wiping the white blob off your nose. both of you are in fits of giggles again, buzzing with pure love for each other.

'don't let me distract you darling, this gingerbread house isn't gonna make itself,' he adds, turning his attention back towards the slabs of biscuit on the counter.

he then realises his finger is still coated in icing. he stands there looking down at his hand, contemplating his next move for barely a second before you reach over and take it in yours, wrapping your lips around his index finger and swirling your tongue around the sugar coated tip. his jaw hangs open as you stare at him with siren eyes the whole time, sucking on the digit that's pressing down on your tongue. he lets out a low groan, biting his lip when you release it with a pop and go back to work as if nothing happened. 'fucking christ,' he mutters to himself, smiling and shaking his head in disbelief as he tries to focus on the biscuits again. 

you can see him out of the corner of your eye busying himself with something else aside from the house; alternating between different coloured icing tubes and guarding his mini creation away from your view. he looks focused, the same concentrated expression he has when he's writing down lyrics or guitar melodies in his studio. 'what are you doing? looks like there's more dilly dallying and less construction work going on over there, healy,' you grin, never taking your eyes off the little sugary jellies that you're placing ever so carefully along the top of the slanted roof.

'oneee second.... bam'. the colourful tubes clatter onto the table and he spins around to face you holding two little decorated gingerbread men. one of them has peaks of black icing on its head for hair, along with thick stripes of white and black vaguely representing a shirt and trousers. the other is in a messy black dress, three curved stripes on either side for your hair and bright dots that match your eye colour surprisingly well.

'us!!' you exclaim, instantly forgetting the task at hand and clapping your hands together in excitement. 'us!!' he repeats, his face breaking out into a grin at your reaction. 'i'll put them right here outside the door, look! it's like they're holding hands,' he says, gesturing excitedly towards his creations.

an idea springs to mind and you put it to action before you have time to think. it's daunting, and you'd be lying if you said you weren't a little terrified of his potential reaction, but it has to be done. you pick up a red jelly tot and place it on the plate between the two figures. your heart races as you do it, knowing what's about to come of the seemingly insignificant act. you'd only been keeping this secret from him for a few days, but waiting for the perfect moment to tell him felt excruciating.

'that's our little baby,' you say in a half-joking tone, looking up at him tentatively. 'pff, yeah, some day,' he replies obliviously, wrapping his arms around you from behind and resting his chin in the crook of your neck. 'matty...' your voice comes out as little more than a whisper, trailing off into nothing. he pulls away and you turn to look at him. he looks confused but grips onto your arms reassuringly nonetheless. 'what's wrong darling?' he asks, voice laced with concern. 'what if i said... that some day is coming soon...' you can nearly see the cogs turning in his head as he stares at you blankly, trying to figure out what you mean. his eyes widen as you take his hands and cautiously place them on either side of your belly. 'really!?' he whisper-shouts, leaning down to you. you shakily nod your head, biting your lip and smiling nervously.

'i'm pregnant, matty' you reply. 

- december 12th 2023 -

bing crosby's white christmas floats through the air from the radio as you sit at the kitchen table with matty and your 18 month old daughter, harper. you'd been having a bad day earlier until matty went out with harper, returning an hour later with a gingerbread house kit and a bottle of wine to cheer you up.

your heart melted at the gesture, especially at the fact he remembered and pointed out that it was two years to the day since you were sat in the same place and you'd told him the most important thing you'd ever had to tell him. from that day onwards he'd been nothing but supportive and loving, always there to help in any way he could and you were so eternally grateful.

'last time we made one of these i was only finding out harper was in mummy's belly wasn't i?' he says, bouncing her up and down on his leg. 'you were, and mummy was bricking it over what daddy was gonna say!' you reply, both of you laughing. casual conversations usually turn out like this nowadays, with you and matty talking to each other but directing every sentence at your daughter, as if she'll suddenly be able to answer. 

she reaches up and makes grabby hands at the gingerbread biscuits spread out on the table. 'you wanna get up and help?' she lets out a little happy scream and starts wiggling as you pick her up from matty's lap and put her sitting on the table in front of you, moving up against her back so she doesn't fall. she's instantly drawn to the bright colours of the sweets and icing, smacking her tiny hands on whatever she can reach.

she's fascinated, scooching around on the table and bouncing excitedly when you reach around her to open the bag of powdered icing. you pour it into the bowl of water that matty had set down earlier and she immediately grabs at the powder, making it erupt in a white cloud that covers herself and the table. 'woah, easy on the icing there baby,' you say. her big brown eyes sparkle in the reflection of the christmas lights as she falls down with laughter, making the two of you melt.

~

the festive playlist drones on in the background mainly unnoticed, but as soon as jingle bell rock plays you and matty's eyes light up. it's your favourite song this time of year, especially now you get to share it with harper. you take hold of her arms and dance with her, making her giggle as you move them around to the beat. matty laughs, taking his phone out to take pictures of the two of you, covered in icing sugar and having the time of your lives.

~

the decorated gingerbread house sits in the middle of the table like a trophy, but the three of you are exhausted after spending all evening on it. 'would you mind putting her to bed while i clean up?' you ask, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. 'course, love' he replies, placing a chaste kiss to your lips before making his way over to where she's now sitting in her high chair.

he unclips the chair and picks her up, cooing at her softly. 'time for bed munchkin,' he says, kissing her head and getting her settled in his arms, her sleepy head lulling over his shoulder. you smile to yourself as he disappears upstairs, footsteps barely audible as he does his best not to disturb her. 

after what feels like ages, you finish up the dishes, throw the towel back over the cupboard handle and make your way upstairs to the bathroom. as you reach the top of the stairs, you hear a gentle voice coming from harper's bedroom. the door is wide open, the only light being the warm yellow of the lamp on the landing flooding through the doorway and the soft pink glow of her flower shaped night light. you peek your head into the room to see matty perched on the little stool by the open side of her cot, book in hand. '..and then, a magical cloud appeared over the snowman..'

harper is lying tucked in under her favourite blanky and surrounded by plushies as he reads to her. her eyes are gently fluttering shut, although she's clearly trying to stay awake, gazing up at her dad in awe through yawns. you tiptoe over as quietly as possible. matty's eyes flick up towards you and he smiles before returning to the story. you stand listening to him, wondering how you got so lucky.

after a few moments you lean down over her and gently place a kiss on the top of her head. 'goodnight angel' you whisper, rubbing her soft cheek with the back of your hand before stepping back and letting matty finish the book. she's fully asleep by now, so he mutters a little 'blablabla, the end. goodnight munchkin'. he leans down and places a tiny kiss on the tip of her nose, making sure she's fully tucked in and covered before making his way back to you. 'fancy a bit of that wine?' he asks, closing the door over and stepping into the landing. 'ugh, you know me too well', you reply, kissing him before moving towards the stairs.

if you could have it your way you'd exist forever in that room, where you finally feel safe and truly comfortable. you and matty's little safe haven, forever <3

~

[fun-k-board]

HALLOWEEN SPECIAL

How would some of my favourite characters be if their S/O loves Halloween?

Media Included : Mortal Kombat 11, Insomniacs Spider-Man, Young Justice.

Characters Included : Mileena, Kitana, Peter Parker, Miles Morales, Artemis, Superboy.

Note (s) : I originally had a poll and all of MK11 won but honestly I would've gotten no enjoyment out of writing it, so, have this instead.

Be warned I haven't watched young justice in like a year.

Mileena

Mileena doesn't know what Halloween is, there isn't much of an equivalent in Outworld that would make sense for her to participate in, however, she's definitely interested after learning about it from you. Especially after seeing how excited you are.

After realising she can carve whatever she wants in the pumpkin, she gets very excited. Mileena would most likely carve a 'scary' face, similar to a Tarkatans with the large teeth, but, she isn't the most skilled artist... It ends up looking a bit wonky and more funny than scary.

If she's in a bad mood, she'd probably try to carve Kitana dying, and it would end up more like a blob than anything coherent.

She likes the decorations, and might help put a few up, but prefers them not to be in her way, she will absolutely destroy any fake cobwebs or skeletons in her path.

If you want to stay at home and put on the likes of 'Hocus Pocus' 'The Nightmare Before Christmas' or even horror movies like 'Halloween', she's interested in them all. She especially finds the portrayals of sorcerers to be hilarious and wants to show Shang Tsung how incompetent humans think they are.

Mileena finds horror movies fascinating but sometimes she's very critical of the gore and how unrealistic it is, one time she stormed out of the house because of how horrible a CGI blood splatter was.

She probably won't bother matching costumes or even going in a costume herself, she's just not interested enough for whatever cheap gimmicks Earthrealm's cooked up.

I actually think she'd just go in her regular clothes but without a mask, it's uncomfortable to be seen as scary, but, she doesn't want to wear a ridiculous costume or spend hours walking around in a mask.

Mileena is most excited for the trick or treating itself, the fact you can just go up to people's houses and ask for sweets and people will just give it?? She's so shocked, nothing like that would ever happen in Outworld.

She won't be too smiley until she gets home though, whenever the door opens she's sweating nervously, Mileena almost wishes she brought her mask to hide her face.

She always manages to stay up until everybody else goes home or falls asleep, and carries, she insists you're not walking even if you're not tired at all, you back home, where she finds the pumpkins destroyed and your house covered in toilet paper.

She vows to kill the person who ruined your pumpkins, and probably ends up springing a Halloween massacre for your area.

Kitana

She's definitely heard of Halloween from Johnny or Sonya, but she's never really been able to dress up or be too involved. Kitana has responsibilities in Outworld, and she can't risk them for a holiday, regardless of her desire to participate.

Once she sees how excited you are, however, she decides to make up an excuse to go to Earthrealm, it's only for a few hours, and she's a bit antsy over the decision, but she's doing it for you nonetheless.

Kitana helps you put up the decorations, laughing at how silly some of them look, and she takes great joy in spending some time with you that she usually can't.

Her pumpkin carving skills aren't too bad, she's not some master artist with them, but she can make a mean scary face.

I don't think she'd want to dress up, but she's definitely alright if you want to, she'll share her opinion on your costume and maybe suggest a different one if she thinks it'd fit you better.

She really enjoys things like The Nightmare Before Christmas, wholesome yet with a bit of scary elements thrown in. She especially likes Hocus Pocus when it comes to the family part of it, it's no secret how messed up hers is.

Kitana's amused at how magic is portrayed in both Halloween movies and by certain costumes, she nearly loses it after seeing an old man mask under the 'wizard' title.

Kitana personally doesn't enjoy the gore heavy and over the top violence of horror movies, although, she will admit she enjoys the fight choreography of some of them. She prefers psychological horrors.

Kitana is rather nervous about trick or treating, she loves the idea of the fun and sweet part, but the idea that the stranger could've poisoned the sweets makes her nervous, even if you assure her that the signs are obvious and if there are none it should be safe to consume.

She inspects the sweets around five times before even considering you take a bite.

She looks like some type of bodyguard, following behind you with swift and graceful steps, she lets herself have fun of course, but her guard is always up.

When you both get home, she's very happy to rest with you and sleep, but if duty calls she might have to cut the night short and return to Outworld.

Peter Parker

Peter skips out on a holiday or two sometimes, his identity as Spider-Man is far too important, and Halloween is the one that usually gets skipped. Aunt May never really celebrated it, she usually just left out a bowl of sweets. MJ isn't an avid Halloween person, neither is Harry after he grew up. So, it was a huge surprise at how invested in Halloween you are.

Peter isn't that good of a pumpkin carver, so he typically does the regular 'spooky face' with wobbly lines, it's his favourite and was his go to ever since he was a kid.

He finds matching costumes cute and especially loves dressing up in his old Spider-Man costume and making one especially for you, of course, neither of you include the web shooters and he makes sure to use an old enough suit where there's no tech in it.

Peter's great at hanging up decorations, he has specialised web fluid that can last for a few days or even a week, so, he uses that to his advantage and usually does that along with crawling on the ceiling.

He loved trick or treating as a kid, it was the one time of the year he could dress up and not be a nerd, he and Harry had so much fun together. It's really nostalgic, and sometimes people will point out your costumes, finding it funny that grown adults are going as the city's hero.

He adores trick or treating, it makes him feel like a kid again. Although, unfortunately a lot of crime tends to happen on Halloween, so, sometimes he does have to slip away quickly to punch a few bad guys.

He might check once or twice to see if there's anything wrong with the candy, but besides that he sometimes forgets how deadly some of them can be. He does feel his heart race a bit when you take a bite, only to reveal nothing is wrong, he lets out a huge sigh of relief.

Peter's nervous watching psychological thrillers and ones that use the whole 'creepy kid aesthetic' to its full potential. He's fine with gorey slasher flicks, and even enjoys some of them for the horrible acting and bad effects.

He prefers more kid friendly stuff, like The Nightmare Before Christmas, but he nearly cried watching Coraline for the first time.

Miles Morales

Miles has been a huge Halloween enjoyer since he was a kid, he used to spend hours trying to handmake a costume with his parents help, he misses those days. He's never missed Halloween, or any holiday, but miles has been close a few times.

After he started dating you he realised just how much fun it can be and that he shouldn't sacrifice time with his loved ones, especially not on a day you both love.

Miles, while not exactly having an over abundance of money to do so, will a hundred percent try to hand make costumes for the both of you, with your help of course. Maybe it's something small like Morticia Addams and Gomez Addams, or maybe it's a huge mecha costume, whichever it is, he has fun making and designing the costumes.

He's a master pumpkin carver, give him any image and he can accurately create it in pumpkin form, regardless of whether you're also like that or have trash pumpkin carving skills, he's putting yours together proudly and pointing it out to anybody who sees them.

Miles loves trick or treating, you and him walk around New York apartments for hours and hours getting all of the sweets you can, he even web swings sometimes to try and get as much as possible before Halloween ends.

I don't think he'd think to look for any poison or razor blades in the sweets you two are given, he's heard some stories for sure, but it's never happened anywhere close to him, so he assumes you're both safe.

Like Peter, he can help put up decorations by climbing on walls and ceilings, plus his webs, and so he's a huge help, although he's personally not a fan of any snake based decorations. They creep him out.

While he can handle more scary horror movies, he still reaches for and squeezes your hand whenever a kill scene happens, although, for older ones or newer ones that are bad looking, he prefers to analyse the artistic side of things. Special effects and practical effects are so interesting to him. Not only that, he could spend hours talking about the music and themes of each character or event.

He loves any stop motion, Nightmare Before Christmas, Coraline, and Corpse Bride to name a few. Not only are they just beautiful, but any bad storylines or things that haven't aged well don't really matter when he's staring at something so pretty.

Artemis

Artemis never had the chance to celebrate Halloween as a kid, she wishes she did because it always sounded so fun, the most she managed to get was her mother putting out sweets for kids in costumes to nab. Some part of her wishes that she was one of them at some point.

When she begins dating you, your interest in Halloween is one she can greatly relate to, perhaps for different reasons, but, it's something shared nonetheless.

Artemis likes the idea of dressing in costumes, it's a quarter of her job so she's used to it by now, but she can admit she feels too childish when she wears a vampire or any other Halloween-esque costume. She thinks you look cute in them, though.

She's used to helping her mother around the house, so when you ask for help putting up decorations she's alright with that, whether or not you can't reach because you're short, you can't do it all on your own, or if you just want to get it done quicker, she'll help you.

Artemis is a decent pumpkin carver, she can make a few impressive faces, but unless she spends hours and hours, she can't do a full body or anything other than a spooky face without it being a little wonky.

She genuinely does enjoy going trick or treating, she can come across a little blank and emotionless when walking around, but she really does feel happy and safe with you. Even if you two are walking alone at night knocking on strangers doors for candy.

She definitely checks every piece for any poison or razor blades, she's not taking any chances with you.

Artemis loves more childish movies, don't tell anybody in the tower though! She especially loves ones like Coraline, she feels really seen and can even relate to her a tiny bit.

She's not a big horror fan, especially not ones that try to make the unsympathetic sympathetic, it's just boring watches to her usually. Gore ones are easier to get through, it's just mindless slashing and bad acting, sometimes they're so bad that it becomes funny though, she enjoys those ones. Artemis isn't the biggest fan of psychological thrillers either, not because they're more scary to her, they're just more uncomfortable.

Superboy

Superboy has most likely heard of Halloween, but never had the chance to participate because... Well, you know. He isn't very interested in it, the costume part, the sweets part, it's not exactly his thing, regardless of if he's tried it before or not.

He's surprised at just how excited you are about Halloween, it's not like he despises the holiday, it just feels so alien to him. Despite that, Conner will help put up decorations in hard to reach places, or if something is heavy, he might grumble about it, but he truthfully doesn't mind.

Well, as said before, he isn't too interested in the costumes. A lot of them are just too silly for him, but maybe with some convincing he could do a matching couples one. He likes when you dress up, though, he thinks you look cute and even funny in some of them.

Conner isn't great at pumpkin carving, he gets frustrated easily and might smash the poor thing, despite that, he may either act like it was on purpose or just hide it from you.

He doesn't enjoy trick or treating, because of his unwillingness to dress up, he's either a guy in a superman shirt who looks like he's about to commit a felony, or a huge, quiet guy in a goofy costume whose fist is always angrily clenched.

He can tell if any sweets are bad, his vision makes it easy, and he will absolutely smack the sweet out of that person's hand and begin yelling at them.

Conner is alright with horror movies, he's not scared by them because he knows they're not real. But, that doesn't mean he likes what he's watching. Most of them are boring or just plain stupid to him. He thinks more kid friendly ones are to his style, they're not overly edgy, funny coming from him, while also not being boring because most kid media is designed to keep a kids attention.

[x-reader-theater]

In Your Sleep, In Your Dreams {1}

summary: You find solace in another being when you dream.

pairing: Vessel x Gender Neutral!Reader

word count: 1491

warnings: None.

a/n: requests are now open. please see my rules here for more information. this will be a series but if you really want you can read this as a standalone.

In Your Sleep, In Your Dreams series: {Chapter 1}, (You can also use the tag #in your sleep in your dreams series as well if you don't want to use links)

Chapter 1: Meeting. Worship

You look around a darkened space. It’s not black, like the absence of light, but a deep grey, like the moon is illuminating the area. But, when you look up, the sky is the same deep grey as everything else. It’s a little dizzying. You feel yourself being pulled towards something, like there’s a string in your chest, and a puppet master is pulling you toward them. When you look down, you see nothing.

You let your chest guide you, your feet stumbling after it. You feel floaty, like if you jumped you could fly, however, at the same time, you don’t think you could jump if you tried. You’re unsure how long you walk, no aches or pains as you walk to note how far you’ve got, no panting, you barely feel yourself breathing, but if you concentrate enough, you can feel your heart beating in your chest and through your veins, like you’re even more aware of it now than you normally are.

Eventually, you see something. It’s a stage, surrounded by impossibly tall curtains. The stage itself is empty, save for a figure. It’s hard to make out the figure at first, looking more like a black blob of a human, but the close you get, the more details you can make out. The first thing you notice is the smoke like skin, dark grey like the world around but with texture, not quite patterned, but not uniform. It’s definitely a masculine person, his chest bare underneath an open hooded, knee-length sweater of some sort that seems thin, like it’s meant for looks and not for warmth. The pants he wears are loose fitting and made from that same thing material, and he’s not wearing shoes. The thing that stands out the most, however, is the white mask, with six eyeholes, a red symbol painted on the centre, and red spiral detailing around a cutout for his mouth that almost looks like viscera. You take a couple steps forward and the man leans down over the edge of the stage, his feet half hanging off it. He extends a hand, and you can’t help but reach out and take it.

You shiver as ice immediately lances through you, the man’s skin is incredibly cold and while you want to pull away, it’s like you just got a shot of pure adrenaline and everything is finally coming into focus. The man in front of you looks sharper than he once did, you can feel his soft his skin is, and you don't have to concentrate on your heartbeat any more to feel it pounding away in your chest and through your veins.

“Hello,” the man says, his voice deep and clear and almost hypnotising.

“Hello,” you respond. “Where am I?”

“You’re in a dream,” the man says, crouching down, so his eyes are more level with yours. “Sleep brought you here to me.”

“Oh,” you say, still not fully aware of yourself in this dream. “Why?”

“Because you’re special,” he explains.

“Oh,” you say plainly again. “Who are you?”

“I am a vessel of Sleep, chosen to speak for him, and to worship,” the man, Vessel, explains.

You nod like you understand any of it. In a way, you kind of do. Information about the entity known as Sleep drifts lazily into your mind, as well as information about Vessel, and three other Vessels that are not as loved as this Vessel, but still loved nonetheless.

“Okay,” you say, slightly dazed. “Why am I here?” You ask again.

Vessel laughs. “Because you’re special. Because Sleep wanted you here, for me, and for yourself,” Vessel explains, reaching out with his older hand to grab the one dangling at your side, heavy and tingly. “Sleep knows you’re lonely. Sleep wants to help. Sleep wants to give you a purpose.”

You think about this. About your life. About your job that you hate and coworkers that hate you. You think of your lonely apartment, devoid of life. You can’t even keep a plant alive, how are you expected to keep a pet alive too? You have no one and nothing.

Except now, maybe you do.

“This isn't real,” you say matter-of-factly.

Vessel chuckles. “Does this feel real?” He moves one of his hands from you, which drops back limply to your side, and reaches out, touching your face. You shiver again as the cold flesh brushes against you, but you feel how soft his skin is, especially as he starts to rub his thumb over your cheek. You lean into the touch and shake your head, your lips brushing against his palm over and over.

He moves your head up, tilting it towards him, and he brings the hand he's still holding up to his lips. They’re just as cold as the rest of him, but this time, when you shiver, it's not because of how cold Vessel is. You've got used to that now.

No, you shiver because he touches your face so tenderly, a feeling you haven’t felt in a very long time. He leans into your space, and you lean into his, needing to chase that feeling of being wanted. You feel his lips press against yours, and you melt into the touch. His lips are as soft as the rest of his skin, and that feeling returns. Vessel kisses you, and you feel love and purpose flowing between the two of you, back and forth, longing turning into satisfaction, hope turning into true, unfiltered, love. You don’t know if that love comes from Vessel himself, or if it’s Sleep filtering through Vessel’s lips, but it doesn’t really matter to you. For the first time in a very, very long time, you feel wanted.

Vessel pulls away, and you realise you had closed your eyes without noticing, and you slowly blink them open, You don’t know if you could see Vessel’s eyes beneath the mask before, but now you can see all six, blinking at you in synchronicity.

“Why me?” you breathe into the still air. Well, you think there’s air. Vessel said this is a dream, so it could very well be that there isn’t any air at all.

Vessel’s soft lips quirk into a smile. “Because Sleep knows you need purpose. Sleep knows you are lonely.” Vessel pauses, before leaning in again, his hand still on your cheek, his lips brushing against yours as he whispers, “Sleep knows how I am lonely.”

You surge forward, your nose smashing into Vessel’s mask, but you ignore the feeling as you deepen the kiss. You open your mouth and allow Vessel’s tongue to lick and prod, feeling around. When he pulls his tongue back, you extend yours, licking into Vessel’s mouth. You feel your legs give out when you brush your tongue across a sharp fang.

Vessel pulls back and reaches out, grabbing you before you can fall to the ground. He wraps his arms around you and with a strength no man should have, easily lifts you onto the stage, chuckling. Then again, apparently, this is a dream, and anything can happen in dreams.

“Careful,” he admonishes, and you laugh breathlessly along with him as you find your feet underneath you once again.

You throw your arms around Vessel’s neck, his lithely muscled arms wrapped around your waist, pressing your body to his. You stand like that for a moment, resting your head in the crook of Vessel’s neck. “I know this is a dream, but it feels so real…” you trail off into Vessel’s neck.

You feel the press of a kiss on the top of your head and Vessel’s arms constrict around your middle, pressing you closer to him. “It’s real if you want it to be.”

You chuckle. “Isn’t everything real if you make yourself think it is?” you ask dismissively.

Vessel chuckles. “I suppose so.”

You pull back, staring into the black voids of Vessel’s eyes and bring a hand up, placing it on his cheek underneath the mask before your eyes slip closed, and you lean in to kiss him again, that heartbeat that you can feel so strongly in your bloodstream quickening, and you sigh into the kiss.

You and Vessel stand like that for a few minutes, kissing, touching, and just generally enjoying each other and the feeling of closeness. You pull away eventually, when you feel breath in your lungs, lungs that are panting from lack of air.

“You’re waking up now,” Vessel explains.

“I don’t want to go,” you beg, breathlessly, finally feeling the breath that is leaving you.

“I know,” Vessel says with a sad smile. “You’ll be back. When you dream again, Sleep will bring you here.”

You lean up, going to kiss Vessel, but when you think you’re going to kiss him, you move past him, his form turns to smoke, and you wake up, the smell of rain and cigarette smoke filtering in through your window.

[hyukassubi]

🍪 02 | Of Roses And Cookies

♡𓂃 Pairing -> (Former) Knight! Huening Kai x Seamstress! Reader

♡𓂃 Synopsis -> Growing up, you never believed in purpose, nor destiny. Simply following the path of life, becoming a royal seamstress didn't at all seem like a bad idea. Only thing is, it wasn't your idea.

Your best friend who just so happens to be the crowned prince knows what it's like to grow up having limited choices, and Prince Kang Taehyun doesn't want the same happening to you. The commander knight, in turn, has other plans for the future. After Huening Kai closes a profound chapter of his life, he seeks refuge from the chaos of his past, opting for a cozier lifestyle instead.

... And it just so seems that those plans wouldn't be fulfilled without you.

♡𓂃 Wc -> 628

Tabby hands, scrappy clothes, Mary Janes strapped to your feet where ever you go.

Unlike Taehyun, just like Hueningkai, you did not grow up with a royal background.

Two high school sweethearts that started off as a fling had an accident, that accident being you. Your parents didn’t give up in raising their happy little accident, though. Sure, marriage wasn’t a privilege they had until way later, but you had a great time staying over at your mother’s bakery and your father’s florist nonetheless.

You always did.

The kids at preschool kept talking about the way you smelled.

How, every day, you’d be smelling of sugar and frosting, chamomile and roses, cookies and flowers. Seatmates betting on whether or not that girl will come in smelling like chocolate today, or perhaps pistachio, but then they get it all wrong and the room starts fuming of a lavender haze.

The attention was nice until you begin to notice how talk was all talk and no one really talked with you.

Except for one person— Kang Taehyun.

Boba-eyed, impressively pearly white grin, the face of a baby pumpkin, three year old Kang Taehyun was too adorable to be real.

The baby prince who, to everyone’s surprise, landed in a montessori preschool for toddlers who can barely spell their names instead of a high class Royal Academy for Babies. A small boy like him hadn’t yet any responsibilities bared upon him, anyway. There was absolutely no need to learn basic etiquette nor book-balancing on the top of your head at four years of age. And so, lucky was Taehyun for eating mud in playgrounds and zooming past the teachers in scooters when he should be tucked in a pillowed-up rectangular cribs for naptime.

For now, he was surrounded by village toddlers his age with sacked diapers and snot all over their faces. So, yes, perhaps the girl in the corner of the room dressing up chewed up barbies was a refreshener.

Taehyun whiffs the air, nose pointing to the ceiling, nostrils flared like volcano craters. “You smell nice.”

She looked at him for a second, and then went back to putting paper eyelashes on dolls in skirts and clay blobs for shoes.

Taehyun tilted his squishy-cheeked pumpkin head to the side, eyebrows furrowed in adorable concern. “Do you talk?”

No response.

“Don’t be shy, I think you should talk more. To me.”

You sat quietly for a moment, and… snuck a cookie out of the pockets of your denim overalls.

You split the huge chocolate covered goodness into two uneven excuses of semi-circles.

You gave the bigger piece to the baby prince.

You had always liked keeping the bigger piece to yourself.

The baby prince looked at the cookie, and then you, and then his relatively clean toddler hands, and then back at the cookie.

He grabbed it.

He never left your side since.

You thought you had to get on your knees and bow too after dismounting the carriage to meet the King and Queen at the corridor of the Grand Palace like your parents did.

And then Taehyun said, “It’s okay, a ‘Hello’ is enough for us. And no need to call me ‘Little Crowned Prince Kang’. ‘Taehyun’ is what I go by.” ‘Taehyun’ is enough.”

“What he said.” The King patted his son on the shoulder.

He must’ve been proud.

Your parents did not move.

You had no idea who you were, or what you want or could’ve been besides being the daughter of a florist and baker and the walking aroma therapy in your kindergarten, but you knew the prince had a warm heart and his actions might’ve left you feeling touched.

“Okay.” You replied. “Hello, Taehyun.”

The little prince smiled, and happiness never left him since.

Previous | Masterlist | Next

♡𓂃A/n: My personal favourite line: baby Taehyun sniffing the air and his nostrils puffing up like volcano craters.

What the little toddler reader saw that day:

FJKHKAUJJEHFOAI I cannot wait for you guys to devour the following baby reader chapters because they're sooooo cute

♡𓂃Tags: @sweetheartsaku @imcringebutimfree @i-like-to-read-at-4am @pengningie @marloree @stormy1408 @blossommi

Reblog & review if you like my work !!

[visibleclosedeyes]

✧ᴀ ᴛʜᴏᴜꜱᴀɴᴅ ʏᴇᴀʀ ᴠᴏʏᴀɢᴇ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪꜱᴅᴏᴍ ᴏꜰ ᴀʙꜱᴏʟᴜᴛᴇ ɴɪʜɪʟɪᴛʏ✧

IX x reader

1k words Ao3 version here

To repeat how and why you ended up in this position would be like trying to recant the story of several centuries of here and there, so at some point, you just let it go—let the words you had once told centuries ago washed away into the ever-flowing stream of the intergalactic void.

But as an emanator of the Nihility —perhaps this suits you best.

Today and yesterday and tomorrow and last year and a century have been blended together like an ever-growing vortex of void—at some point, nothing really matters that much, including your life story. Perhaps this is how IX feels, all the time. Maybe they were a breathtakingly beautiful creature that rivaled that of the Aeon of beauty and the abundance Yaoshi—but then they had touched the darkness that is the pit of this universe, and—and now they lost all those faces because it hardly ever mattered which form they took.

You understood you thought—as you have touched nihilism too. Or, to be accurate, IX has gazed upon you. Only those with an unrestrained arrogance dare to compare their plight to those with Aeonic status. But you thought, at the very least, you get a fraction of how they felt.

“Big or small, all things are touched by the same bottomless meaningless vortex,” Aeon of Nihility told you once, a fraction of truth is still truth nonetheless.

“Why are you planting seeds into the ground?” IX asked. Although their voice was low and acoustic; bouncing all over this fabricated dimension used for holding IX themselves when they went to sleep, you can feel the genuine curiosity behind those blob eyes of theirs.

“ Someone has said to me once that beautiful flowers help people get into a better mood,”

“ Maybe for mortals, but those tricks don't work on us who knows,” IX said. Even with a rather distant and monotone, there is a hint of somewhat concern.

“I know,” you said—your voice, too, was bouncing off the metaphorical wall. It created the signature acoustic sounds that, as you remember, were once disorienting when you first arrived here. Now? It would have been weird to not hear a slight echo in your or their voice.

You kneeled, the gray and tender sand soil you have gathered in your palm felt cold. It shines against the soft light emitting from the other side where IX was crawling opposing it. The light existed alongside the nihility, belonging to the Doctor of Chaos. “—You don’t have to be too worried. This is mostly for them,” when you continued speaking, the sand was allowed to slide past your hand—it flowed down, but immediately dissolved mid-air into nothingness.

“All things that exist would come to its conclusion. And all things exist for one single purpose; to exist, to continue to exist, and then struggle for that existence—against the unknown, against the others. Only when they no longer could stomach this any longer, shall they perish—left nothing behind,” the Nihility said, Their tone was rather melodic despite the absolutely horrifying speech they have given to you. Yet, it didn’t shake you. Perhaps, being their emanator has some interesting and useful additional benefits.

“I understand, and you are right more than wrong. Still, I plant this for them,”

“ If I am right, then who else is them ?”

“ Those who will walk this path, the same path that I did, and those who will receive that gaze of yours,” you said with an amused yet exhausted smile on your face.

“ No, no. There will be no others. You are selected, but there will be no more others. You are my first and the last emanator,” IX burst out—a rather strange demeanor from those who hold the status of an Aeon; but then again—we don’t really know all that much about Aeon after all. They almost sound anxious—almost but you just burst out laughing.

“Are…you laughing? At an Aeon..?”

“Who else would I be laughing at?”

“…why?” The aeon exclaimed with a voice filled with a hint of annoyance. You inhaled—trying your best to suppress the laugh that seemed to be indefinitely pouring out.

“You are wrong about most things, you were wrong then before you gazed upon me, and you’re wrong now that you assumed you won’t gaze at anyone again,” you said. Most of the dirt in your palm was already gone. Turn around to face your Aeon who, to best describe it—seems to be in absolute shock. Mortals or immortals with less significance do not challenge Aeon, and if they do it will be done not in such a flippancy like this. IX has faced hostility by mortals before by the name of ‘annihilation gangs’, it was…something for several seconds…and then they were nothing, swallowed whole by the crushing weight of nothingness. But—you are special, IX recognized that genes the Aeon’s gaze that craved a mental scar of nihility into your mind. Yet, uniqueness does not exempt you from absolute nothingness. In time, you will perish, and the millions of steps you have to take to be at this point will quickly be washed away by the current of time…and the ever-looming, uncaring silence of the universe. Like the dirt that no longer sits among your fingers, your life will soon slip from the grasp of the Aeon.

And yet—yet, this fact did not dim your light, not one bit. You know full well of the approaching darkness at all of the universe’s corridors—they have let you see it yourself. Still, you have insisted on the very same stand you have held before. Despite not chasing foolishly trying to create artificial meaning to life and the universe—you have understood and even believed the same thing IX believed, you have chosen to face such issues with a totally opposite reaction they have expected.

You faced your Aeon now, the metaphorical barren land of gray and emptiness was now occupied by blooming bio-fluorescent white flowers. It shines bright, but not too bright where it hurts—but bright enough to stand firm against the blackest of black sky that enveloped the garden and both entities facing each other.

“Before you crowned me as your emanator, you had none before. You don't believe in bestowing your ‘blessings’ upon anyone—you have seen no point in it, and you believed no beings could tolerate such nihilistic gaze anyway. Then you gazed at me, I suffered from you and I survived, and I got better. You said, in the face of looming darkness, I will understand and change my way—and I have not changed, before or after,”

IX looked straight into the eyes of their emanator and thought— why is she so difficult? But perhaps that is why she interests me…

“You are unbelievable, breathtakingly chaotic,” IX said with exasperation but their gaze was soft, as soft as a freshly cleaned wool. Something rather surprising coming from the Aeon represents coldness and emptiness.

“Now stop bothering me, I want to sleep…” With that, IX closed their eyes—essentially turning themselves into a mass of darkening black hole that seems to suck away all the life force surrounding it. This made-up space for you and them has dimmed its light, the world was asleep now as both you and the garden of light fell into the dark. You sat down, in an environment with minimal light, and closed your eyes too—drifting into a state of inactivity like your Aeon. Still, you and the garden emit soft light like a nightlight for the Aeon to anchor on. IX didn’t need it, and yet… you wanted to do it.

This place should be hell for any other, but for you—you felt comforted by the presence of the Nihility. It’s true that you were now in the darkness swallow but this darkness itself soothed you—just like the Nihility has too. Tomorrow, there will be work to do; but now you just want to rest beside your aeon. Basking silently in each other comfort.

[shalomniscient]

hellooo sev! was thinking of a scenario based on one of deren's supervision events where she's just casually chilling on the lawn while staring at the clouds. the thought that both of them are beside each other talking abt cloud shapes and imagining stories from it is so so cute + a nice start for a fluff fanfic :>

one deren fluff coming right up 🫡🫡🫡 first time i'm writing something other than p0rn for deren so wish me luck LMAO

cloudgazer || deren x reader

cw. none !

notes. i would NOT be able to do this with deren im being so fr because ya girl is HORRENDOUS at improvising...... as you will all read later shdksjdhkldfklh nobody look at me ok i can pretend the lion king (1994) doesnt exist in discity ok LEAVE ME ALONE

"What are you doing?"

Deren turns her to look at you, a lazy grin on her face. She's lying on her back against the grass in the MBCC garden, staring up at the simulated sky. The artificial sunlight paints her in pretty shades of gold and yellow, and she looks like she walked right out of one of her own movies.

"Hey, you," she replies with a wink. "Wanna join me for some cloud watching?"

You tilt your head. "Cloud watching?"

"Yep," Deren nods. "It's a great way to relax, just sitting back and looking at the sky."

"Sounds like a way for you to slack off," you say, lighthearted suspicion coating your tone, and Deren laughs, raising her hands in mock surrender.

"Hey, c'mon. A girl deserves a break once in a while, right?"

You snort, but go to sit down next to her nonetheless, bracing your arms on your knees. "After she does her work, maybe."

"Let me live," Deren says with a faux whine, and you both chuckle. You turn your head skywards, looking as the clouds drift by lazily. It's just a simulation, but it was a mirror of the sky outside, so if you suspend your disbelief for long enough, you could believe it was real.

"So... what am I looking for, exactly?" you ask her, squinting at the clouds. They all look like formless blobs to you, but that might just be your inexperience talking. You turn to Deren, the local cloud, expert and she gives you an amused smile.

"You're not looking for anything. You just have to see what's there and let your imagination do the rest," she shrugs. She looks back to the sky, and after a brief moment, points to a cloud on the left. "See that cloud over there?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't you think it looks a little like a lion?"

You furrow your brows, and, yeah, you can kind of see it. "I guess... no, wait, now it looks like a... pig? And a, uh... rat?"

Deren hums, watching as the clouds continue to drift. "What about now?"

"It's a lion again," you answer. "But bigger."

Deren nods sagely, grinning now that you're invested in her little game. "Good, good. Now come up with a story for them."

"Wait, what?" you blink at her, confused. A story? How are you supposed to come up with one that quickly? "Uh, well..."

The silence drags on as you struggle to come up with a story. This creative stuff really isn't your forte. You were made to do paperwork (tragically) and resolve DisCity's monthly crises, not use your imagination. As if sensing your struggle, Deren decides to cut you some slack and help you out.

"Here, I'll go first," she offers. "A lion is cast out from his family after an incident, and he meets a pig and a rat. They help him find himself again, then he goes home and rejoins his family."

"Huh," you say, impressed. "That's nice. And you just came up with that?"

Deren's smile turns smug, like a cat that got the cream. "Yeah, but I've had practice. C'mon, let's keep going until you figure something out on your own."

Despite your better judgement telling you to get back to work, you decide to lie down beside Deren anyway. The two of you go back and forth with short, cloud-based stories that go in all sorts of directions, from a comedy about two robots to a dark, unsettling romance between a snake, a swan and a cat. It's a nice change of pace from your work, and at some point, as Deren narrates another story—something about a lamb and a priest—you find your eyes slipping shut. Her voice is soothing, and you're more tired than you realize.

Deren only notices you're fast asleep once she's finished her story, and you haven't responded. She blinks in surprise, then chuckles at the sight of you. Her hand reaches out to brush some stray strands of hair away from your face, and she sits up to shrug off her jacket and lay it across your sleeping form. As she watches the slow rise and fall of your chest, the clouds are all but forgotten in her mind.

"Sleep well, Chief."