#but everything I have relies on like context!

[lisbonsteresa]

i'm going to SCREAM

[billygoat26]

Just waiting to see if my mom breaks another promise :D

[doctorweebmd]

Lessons from day 3 in Japan:

- learned my partner is an absolute nightmare to travel with lmao

[mobs-99]

I think so much abt teru and shous relationship to masculinity sooo much and how that relates to their relationship with violence and their emotional expression and how I hc them as trans and how that reflects in their performance of masculinity.

But I cant talk about that. Because I'll go crazy.

[inkskinned]

most writing advice is good as long as you know why it is good, at which point it is also bad. the hardest thing (and most precious thing) about being an artist is that you gotta learn how to take critique. i don't mean "just shut up and accept that people hate your work," i mean you need to learn what the critique is saying and then figure out if it actually helps.

i usually tell people reading my work: "i'm collecting data, so everything is useful." i ask them where they put the book down, even though it's too long for most people to read in 1 sitting. i ask them what they thought of certain characters. i let them tell me it was really good but i like it more when they look a little stunned and say i forgot i was reading your book, which means they forgot i exist, which is very good news.

sometimes people i didn't ask will read my work and tell me i don't like it. and that is okay, you don't have to like it. but i look at the thing that they don't like and try to figure out if i care. i don't like that you don't capitalize. this one is common, and i have already thought about it. i do not care, it's because of chronic pain and frankly i like the little shape of small letters. you use teeth and ribs in all your work. actually that is very true. i don't know what's up with that. next time i will work to figure out a different word, thank you. you're whiny, go outside. someone said that to me recently and it made me laugh. i am on the whine-about-it website as an internet poet. you are in my native habitat, watching me perform a natural enrichment behavior. but i like the dip of whiny, how the word itself does "whine" (up/down, the sound out your nose on the y), but i don't know if i want to feel whiny. maybe next time i will work on it being melancholy, like what you would call a male writer's poetry.

repeated "good" advice clangs in a bell and doesn't hold a real shape, dilutes in the water. like sometimes you will hear "don't use said." you turn that around in your head and it bounces off the edges of your brain like it is a dvd screensaver. it isn't bad advice, but it feels wrong somehow, like saying easy choices are illegal! sometimes i will only use "said." sometimes i will just kick dialogue tags out to the trash. sometimes i make little love poems where the fact that i do not say "said" is very bad, and makes you feel bad in your body, because someone didn't say something. i am a contrary little shitbird, i guess.

but it is also good advice, actually. it is trying to say that "said" sometimes is clutter. it makes new writers think about the very-small words and very-small choices, because actually your work matters and wordchoice matters. "i know," you said. "i know," you sighed. "i know." we both know but neither of us use a dialogue tag, because we are in a contemporary lit piece.

it is too-small to say don't use said. but it is a big command, so it gets your attention. what are you relying on? what easy choices do you make? when you edit, do you choose the same thing? can you make a different choice? sometimes we need the blankness of said, how it slides into the background. sometimes we don't.

i usually say best advice is to read, but i also mean read books you don't like, because that will make you angry enough to write your own book. i also mean read good books, which will break your heart and remind you that you are a very small person and your voice is a seashell. i also mean you need to eat books because reading a book is a writer's version of studying.

my creative writing teacher in the 7th grade had a big red list of no! words and on it was SUNSET. RAZORS. LOVE. GALAXY. DEATH. BLOOD. PAIN. I liked that razor and love were tucked next to each other like birds, and found it funny that he believed we were too young to know the weight of razor in the context of pain. i hated him and his Grateful Dead belt, where the colored teddy bears held up his appraisal of us. i hated his no list. it is very good/bad advice. i wasn't old enough yet to know that when you are writing about death you are also writing about sunsets and when you write about love you are tucking yourself into a napkin that never stops folding.

back then my poetry was all bloody, dripped with agony when you picked it up. i didn't know there is nothing beautiful about a razor, nothing exciting about pain. i just understood sharpness, which he took to mean i understood nothing. i wrote the razor down and it wasn't easy, but it was necessary. that's what i'm saying - sometimes it's good advice, because it's not always necessary. and sometimes it is very bad advice, because writing about it is lifesaving.

hang on my dog was just having a nightmare. i heard that it is a rule not to write about dogs - in my creative writing mfa, my teacher rolled her eyes and said everyone writes a dead dog. the literature streets are littered in canine bodies. i watched the rise and fall of his ribs (there is that word again) and had to reach out and stop the bad dream. when he woke up he didn't recognize me, and he was afraid.

it is good/bad advice to say that poems and writing have to mean something. it is bad/good advice to say they're big feelings in small packages. it is better advice to say that when my dog saw where he was, he relaxed immediately, rubbed his face against me. someone on instagram would make fun of that moment by writing their "internet poetry" as a sentence that tumbles across a white page: outside it is sunset and my dog is still in a gutter, bleeding a galaxy out of his left paw. or maybe it would be: i woke the dog up/the dog forgot i loved him/and i saw the shape of a senseless/and impossible pain.

the dog is alive in this one, and he is happy. when i tell you i love you, i know what i said. write what you need to write, be gentle to yourself about it. the advice is only as good as far as it helps. the rest is just fencing. take stock of the boundaries, and then break them. there's always somewhere else you could be growing.

i love you, keep going.

[tpwrtrmnky]

exposition

[ID: Four panel comic with crudely drawn stick people.

Panel 1: A blue person with sunglasses and dog ears is talking to an orange person with dog ears.

Blue: "Ah, young Orange."

Orange: "I, uh, aren't you younger than-"

Blue: "I understand that you have approached me to discuss an issue. As is the doctrine of our anarcho-caninist commune, we shall conduct this meeting in expository form, speaking as if intent on being observed by an unknown third party in need of being spoonfed everything we, as individuals, are already aware of."

Orange: "Wait-"

Blue: "Let us begin by stating our medical histories: I am on gel that makes you blue and have had dog ear implants."

Orange: "I uh. I know. You told me yesterday."

Blue: "It is your turn. State it!"

Orange: "…You can look at me and tell that I'm-"

Blue: "You cannot rely on the third party knowing how you became orange!"

Orange: "…Gel. It's gel."

Panel 2: An extremely tall, hot pink person with fluffy bits around their chest and extremities, as well as floppy dog ears and a bandana worn as a mask, interjects into the conversation between the two.

Hot Pink: "I sense that this discussion is at risk of becoming an argument. Let us recite the Acknowledgment of Legitimacy, as per the doctrine."

Blue and Hot Pink: "We recognise that opinions are held by individuals and do not represent everyone of their chromatic alignment. We understand that if any individual is found to be in the wrong, it does not delegitimize their identity, only their viewpoint."

Orange: "I uh. Does anyone not believe this? Who are we disagreeing with here?"

Hot Pink: "I am on injections that make you hot pink and have taken topical fluffy fur gel. Now we may proceed."

Panel 3: Zoom in on Hot Pink and Blue as they continue spoonfeeding unnecessary exposition to you, the reader.

Blue: "Before proceeding we must also clarify that the doctrine is an idiosyncracy of our commune, and not reflective of wider anarchist nor caninist movements."

Hot Pink: "Indeed. Furthermore, I would like to establish that we exist in the context of the past affecting the present, as individuals with personal histories that affect our present state, and have established this doctrine in response to said history."

Orange: "I- how- what history- are you explaining that the past exists??

Who is this for?

How did you decide to talk like this?"

Panel 4: A green person with a tail and long, pointy dog ears appears opposite of Orange to make it all make sense.

Green: "You bring up an excellent question. I am on a combination of pills that make you green and pills that block my naturally occurring red, which I do not personally consider a medical condition but which is often pathologized as such. Before proceeding and getting to the point we must go over the historical context in which this conversation is taking place."

Orange: "Wait, no, I know history, please-"

Green: "Caninism, as formulated by Barx in the 1800s…"

End ID.]

Bonus panel:

[ID 2: Presumably sometime later, the green dogperson is still talking.

Green: "You see, the Expository Doctrine is primarily a performance art critique of the tendency to demand that media explains everything to the viewer, and how pandering to this demand causes dialogue to be unnatural, stilted and unnecessarily verbose."

Orange: "I know. You say this every day."

Green: "Indeed, part of the performance serves to emphasize how in a serial but episodic medium, such mandatory exposition quickly becomes frustrating and repetitive!"

End ID 2.]

Start - Previous - Next

[dyaz-stories]

hands shaking from holding back from you || Hyun-Su x f!reader

summary: Spring is here, and Hyun-Su offers to take you out on a date, which soon leads to more between the two of you

word count: 3.5k

warnings & tags: some fluff, angst because it's sweet home, kissing, heavy make-out session, gets pretty suggestive but never explicit, monster!hyun-su makes an appearance, the pronoun 'her' is used once in reference to the reader

first one-shot · previous one-shot

A/N: to give a little context, reader and Hyun-Su were in high school together, reader was only there for a year before going to another high school, and therefore has no knowledge of the bullying which hyun-su was a victim of. this one-shot can be read independently (there's nothing intense plot-wise that requires having read the other parts), but I do recommend reading them for context.

There is something strange about spring returning in a forever changed world. It had been so fitting, the apocalypse starting with winter, when everything was dead and desolate. Now, nature is starting to bloom again. The streets should be filled with noise and people, and you should be studying for your exams. Instead, you’re rationing your food, and you haven’t been outside in forever — you don’t need to, now that you have a knight in his torn hoodie to make sure you have everything you need.

Hyun-Su truly is the silver lining in the situation. The only good thing in the world as it is. He’s been more confident around you lately, more at ease. Still, it surprises you when he comes by on a sunny afternoon, and offers, with this soft, cautious voice of his:

“Do you want to go out today?”

 You’re putting away some fresh fruits he picked for you, and you turn around in confusion.

“What do you mean, out?”

‘Outside’ is dangerous. ‘Outside’ is a place you only go when you’re desperate, and you plan as efficiently as possible, to ensure you spend the least amount of time there. ‘Outside’, everything is a threat, and you can only breathe when you’re back at the house.

‘Outside’ regularly takes Hyun-Su from you.

Sure, he’s around a lot more, these days, but he still has to leave every now and then. You’ve come to understand that you’re not the only one who relies on him, but he hasn’t provided an explanation, and you haven’t pried. It burns a little every time he leaves, and yet…

And yet, the fear that he wouldn’t answer if you asked is worse. The fear that he might not come back if you didn’t let it rest. The fear that if he had to choose, he wouldn’t choose you.

“It’s nice out,” he answers, and you notice him retreating even as he’s still speaking. “But you don’t have to, if you don’t want to—”

“No, I’d love to,” you cut him off before he can doubt himself further. “I just— Wouldn’t that be— dangerous?”

“Oh.” He smiles, and it’s mesmerizing. It’s not the bright, joyful smile you were used to seeing, back in high school, but being more subdued doesn’t make it any less genuine. “I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

There’s no cockiness in his voice, just confidence.

“Then… Sure. I’d love to go out with you.” And you’re not usually the type to say that, because you don’t have the guts for it, but you feel comfortable enough with Hyun-Su to lean towards him with a playful smile. “It’s a date then?”

He lets out a brief, surprised laugh, then glances down at his feet while his cheeks and ears turn red.

“Sure. It’s a date.”

Even if you were the instigator, you still feel your face burn at how soft his eyes are when he looks back at you.

He looks at you like you’re one of the seven wonders.

You see him lick his lips as his eyes fall on yours. You could always take the step to fill the distance between the two of you, but Hyun-Su rarely initiates, so you want to give him the chance to do so. When he does, it’s always so soft and so careful, like he’s afraid of breaking you. After a few seconds, he clears his throat, looks away again — and it’s alright. You won’t rush him.

“I’ll go get ready,” you hum, stepping out of the room.

You miss the way Hyun-Su follows you with adoring eyes.

When you emerge back from your room, Hyun-Su is waiting for you, and you follow him, heart rate spiking when you go through the door. Being outside again, without the need to go get some specific and vital item, is— strange. Your eyes dart around you, constantly taking in your surroundings. There are surprisingly few monsters, compared to the chaos that was early winter. In front of you, Hyun-Su walks casually, seemingly without paying much attention to what is happening around him. You trust him, you really do, but there’s you still find it unnerving about that.

When you jump at some faraway sound, that turns out to be just birds flying away, scared by your approach, he offers you his hand, an amused smile on his lips. He might even suppress a laugh, but you can’t tell for sure.

“Is that okay?” he asks you softly as he closes his fingers around yours.

He treats you like you’re made of porcelain.

“It’s much better,” you reply with a smile, even if you feel a little sheepish.

For a second, he stares into your eyes, before he looks away and lets out a deep, long exhale. You don’t question him, just give his hand a squeeze, hoping it comes off as a silent reassurance.

He squeezes back, then pulls you with him as you keep going through the city.

“Is there— Is there nothing here anymore?” you ask. It feels like you should have seen a monster by now.

“They’re here,” Hyun-Su replies casually, like monsters aren’t a death promise. “They just know better than to approach.”

You swallow. You understand what he doesn’t say — they know better than to approach him — but it’s not that much of a reassurance, for you. You quicken your pace to stay closer to him. It says a lot about how far he’s come that he doesn’t jump when your shoulder brushes against his.

“They’re not all dangerous,” he says. You know he intends for it to be reassuring, but all you can do is grimace in response.

“They might not be,” you answer — you remember a flash of wings as an unseen monster ripped the snake-like creature that was trying to enter your home —, “but it’s not like I have a way of knowing which ones are safe and which ones aren’t.”

There’s a long silence as Hyun-Su keeps walking.

“But isn’t that true of humans, too?” he asks you in the end. He sounds so— sad, and yet you don’t know what to tell him to make it better. He’s not like them, you want to assure him. You’d never conflate him with the ones that tried to murder you — but it’s not like you can forget about them altogether either. Being wrong about trusting a monster, being wounded once could sign your end.

“It is,” you reply slowly. It’s especially true in this new world, where humans have dropped all their inhibitions. “I guess it’s just— Humans have been less of danger to me, you know?” A brief laugh. “But it’s not like I’m running after them either, right? I haven’t stepped foot near the shelter.”

Your dad didn’t trust the military, and you’re distrustful of authority. There might be strength in numbers, but you wouldn’t feel safe being surrounded by men with machine guns while you have nothing.

Hyun-Su hums at your answer. It does seem to have brought him some comfort, and yet you feel the need not to leave it at that.

“You know I trust you, right?” He freezes and turns to look at you. “Both sides,” you insist. “I know you’re safe.”

His lips part as if to say something, before he closes them again and his Adam’s apple bobs up and down. Finally, he nods.

“I feel safe with you, too,” he says. The sentence catches you by surprise, almost makes you want to laugh, because— who in their right mind would think you’re a threat? But Hyun-Su says it with such gravitas that you can only assume that there’s something that you don’t know about under there. Truth be told, there’s a lot you haven’t talked about with him. He’s not talkative, not anymore at least, and it’s hard to know which questions you can ask before reaching a painful subject. And there are countless of these, for everyone, since the Apocalypse hit. “Come on,” he adds after a few seconds. “We’re almost there.”

He pulls you towards a half-broken down outside staircase. You can’t make your way up on your own, so he grabs you by the hips to help you up, and you let out a surprised yelp when strong hands pull you close to him, his chest against your back, to lift you up. Immediately, his body tenses up and he stills, which means you’re all too aware of how close he is now, of his breath on your neck and his body against yours.

“Sorry,” he says. “Is that okay?”

Gosh, he’s sweet to ask, but you’re really happy he cannot see your expression right now.

“It’s fine,” you squeak, “just caught me off guard. Don’t worry about it.”

He seems to hesitate for a second, and oh, you’re so aware of his fingers on your hips, before he lifts you up as if you weighed nothing, first on his shoulder, then easily higher, so you can grab the bottom of the staircase.

“All good?” he asks once you’re up there.

“All good! Do you need—”

But he’s made his way up before you can finish your sentence, and you blink. Right. Some people are athletic.

“Go ahead,” he says, gesturing towards the stairs. “I’ll catch you if anything goes wrong.”

It shouldn’t feel reassuring, should make you think that you’re at risk, but you meant it when you said you trusted him. Knowing he’s there to watch over you… It’s like having your own personal guardian angel.

There are no issues, however, and you soon arrive on the rooftop — which takes your breath away. This had to have belonged to someone with money, because there is a whole garden there. Overgrown grass, flowers, and even a few trees. Birds are chirping, and it feels… Well, it feels like the kind of places you’d go to laze around on a sunny afternoon with your friends, like an actual park. Being secluded and high up, it is however much safer than any park you could actually go to now. When you turn around, you’re met with an impressive view of the city. It looks peaceful from up here, just a quiet spring day.

Then you notice that Hyun-Su is staring at you, and what you see takes your breath away. He’s smiling. Actually smiling. Wide and bright.

You’re quick to look away, embarrassed by the emotions you’re sure are obvious on your face. Tilting your head up, you let yourself receive the sun.

It’s been a long time since you’ve been this happy.

Hyun-Su often feels that, when he’s with you, all he can do is stare. He likes watching you when you’re at home, going about your day in the house, or sitting by a window and reading. It makes him feel so— welcome, knowing that he can just be there, with you, and that you’ll never mind his presence, never ask him to leave.

Never ignore him and pretend he doesn’t exist.

It makes him feel like he belongs, being around you, makes him feel at peace.

Or, at least, it did, because the emotions swirling under his skin right now are much more complex than they used to be.

He met you, or met you again, in the winter, when you were bundled up under coats and scarves and layers upon layers of clothes. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t noticed the change in your wardrobe lately.

It makes sense, of course. Days are getting warmer. Not only is there no need for you to keep wearing pullovers and disappear into huge coats. But the way your clothes are hugging your body these days, how they accentuate your curves, how your t-shirt rides up to reveal the skin of your stomach…

He can’t say that it makes it more difficult to be around you, because he doesn’t think that anything could do that. You make him feel like he can breathe again, like he’s finally coming up to the surface after spending ages lost in dark waters, not knowing which way was up and which way was down. It’s just that it— takes a lot of place in his mind.

He can already barely stop thinking about you as it is, knows that the Kid and Yi-Kyung have noticed already how his mind always seems to wander away from them. This, though, this is a whole other can of worms. Because he doesn’t know how to act about it. Doesn’t know how you’d feel if you knew. Doesn’t know if you’d look at him with pity, if you’d tell him you never want to see him again, if it would disgust you.

Yet, no matter how much he tries to stop himself, he always comes back to staring. You tilt your head up towards the sky, close your eyes.

You’re beautiful.

If he was another man, he’d walk up to you to wrap his arms around you, he’d whisper something in your ear, he’d kiss you.

Just as the thought crosses his mind, his leg twitches. It takes him a second to understand that it’s not just an involuntary muscle reaction. Inside him, the monster is swelling, clawing its way up towards the surface.

If you don’t do something about this, I will, it whispers inside him. And let’s be honest, maybe that would be for the best, because what could you do? At least I wouldn’t be afraid to touch her.

Hyun-Su tries his best to force it back down, to ignore the sting of the words, but the monster refuses to let up. Finally, he takes a step in your direction, then another. The closer he is to you, the less the monster puts up a fight — but it still refuses to go down completely.

You turn to look at him when he reaches you, tilting your head in quiet questioning.

Hyun-Su feels himself lifting his hand to touch your cheek, and it’s so spontaneous, so natural that he can’t really say who’s in control there. Your skin is soft under his, and as he leans in to kiss you, he cannot forget how fragile you are compared to him. How one wrong surge from the creature he harbors inside himself could end it all, how careful he needs to be.

And, when his lips brush against yours and you kiss him back without hesitation, he’s reminded of how you either don’t know that or don’t care.

There must be something in the air, because without thinking, his hand comes to your waist, then the small of your back, pulling you close to him. Again, he can’t tell if it’s the monster making its own decision, or if it’s just natural and he’s just doing what he truly wants to do. Both thoughts are worrying.

But you’re not aware of all the questions going on his mind, and all you do is tilt your head up to give him better access to your mouth — and it makes his pulse rush and his mind goes haywire.

Normally, he’d know better. Right now, he feels your hands, trapped against his chest, gripping his hoodie and pulling him down towards you, just a little closer, because there isn’t much space left between the two of you anyway.

He tilts you back now, still without thinking — there isn’t enough space for that in his mind at this moment, not when it’s so filled with you you you — hands firmly holding you against him. His tongue pushes against your lips, and you part them almost immediately, welcoming him in your mouth. His blood is pumping, his whole body feels scorching hot, and you’re right there, running your fingers along his jaw and over his neck, leaving burning trails everywhere you touch.

His tongue intertwines with yours and he feels, more than he hears, you whimper into him.

Immediately, a sense of urgency forces him to pull back. One second, he’s pressed against yours, the next, he’s taken two steps back, and your eyes open in confusion.

“Are you okay?’ he asks, searching for a way he’s hurt you, anything indicating that something’s wrong. But all he finds is swollen lips that you press together as you glance away from him.

“Um, yeah, everything’s fine,” you mumble, and it takes an embarrassingly long time for him to understand what kind of noise that was.

Oh.

Oh.

He’s immediately desperate to hear it again.

He brings you back against him to kiss you once more, and there it is, coming from the back of your throat.

He’s not sure what happens, who initiates what, if he’s in control at all, but soon he knows that your back is against the grass, and he’s above you, kissing you just as fiercely. Your hands are wandering now — his shoulders, first, then his arms, then tracing the muscles of his chest and down to his abs. He wants to respond in kind, wants so badly to feel you, but the second he moves his hands, fear assaults him again.

“Is that—” He breaks the kiss to look at you in worry. “Is that okay?”

He illustrates the question with the softest of touch on your skin. You let out a brief laugh — not a mocking one, though.

“You really don’t have to keep asking that,” you say, and your eyes are adoring. Then, when he stays still, you push yourself on your elbows to press a kiss to the corner of his lips. Then his jaw. Then his neck.

Hyun-Su can only stay there, frozen in bliss, as you pepper his skin with kisses. Finally, as you’re reaching his collarbone, you take his hand in yours to bring it back on your body, and then you lie back down, allowing him to take the lead now.

His hand is shaking as he slides it under your t-shirt, all of his senses overwhelmed with need. He wants you so bad, he has a hard time understanding it. Kissing you is familiar. The way your body arches against yours, pushing into his touch— isn’t. His immediate want for more, more of the sounds you make, more of your body, more of you, that is all new, too.

He feels feverish as he mirrors your previous actions, kissing down your neck and lingering in one spot when he discovers it makes you whimper. Now that you’re not muffled with his mouth, your sounds echo louder, and they’re music to his ears, in a way that fuels the fire you’ve lit inside him. His hips press down into you, and a jolt of pleasure jolts through him, which when he realizes that he’s—

He tears himself away from you for the second time, stumbling back to end up just a couple meters away from you.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, “sorry about that.”

You sit up, looking a little confused.

“Are you okay?” you ask softly.

It’s his line, and it takes him a while to piece together what you could mean by that. It’s not like there’s any way for you to hurt him. If anything, you should be disgusted by him. There’s no way you didn’t feel him, which means you know he’s hard. But you’re just looking at him in concern.

“Sorry,” he repeats. “I shouldn’t— I shouldn’t have—”

“Hyun-Su,” you call gently as you scoot over towards him. “It’s all good. I didn’t— um— I didn’t mind. But we— we can stop here for now, if you’d rather.”

Inside him, the monster protests vaguely, but this time Hyun-Su has no issue sending it back to the abyss it came from. He’s overwhelmed, heart beating erratically, and he doesn’t know what would happen if things kept going. He wasn’t in control, not really, and he— he can’t risk it. Not with you.

“Sorry,” he repeats, feeling miserable.

Slowly, you put your arms around him. There’s nothing suggestive about it. You’re just doing your best to bring him comfort.

“It’s okay,” you whisper. Your fingers run gently through his hair in appeasing motions. He rests his head against your shoulder.

He’s not alone.

You’re just there, talking to him, touching him, right against him. You’re not doing anything to move away, not looking at him like he’s some mistake, and it feels like his heart is trying to jump out of his chest.

“Thank you,” he mumbles.

Your fingers still for a moment, before you go back to your ministrations.

“For what?”

And, God, the fact that you don’t even know, that you don’t even realize everything you’re doing, everything you’ve done for him since that first day when you spotted him in the street and ran after him…

He draws in a trembling breath.

“Thank you,” he just repeats.

You don’t ask any more questions, just keep gently playing with his hair.

The sky’s blue, the birds are singing, the town is quiet. It’s just you and him, sitting in the grass, on the rooftop.

If someone were to miraculously pass by and see the two of you there, they’d probably think that you were, indeed, on a date.

okay, I hope you're enjoying this little series! I'm not sure what I'll work on next. i know i'm eventually going to write smut for them, though it's going to be very soft because... well it has to be between them lol. someone has also said they wanted to see them tackle the world together a bit more, so I'm also thinking about writing a one-shot where they meet ha-ni and ho-sang, because i thought that ho-sang's intense dislike for hyun-su could imply they've met before. anyway, yeah, i have a couple different ideas.

i would really appreciate it if you left a comment, whether here, in the tags or in a reblog, and tell me anything you're liking in this series! interactions really motivate me and keep me writing :)

next one-shot

[dannyphannypack]

Writing ASL: Techniques to Write Signed Dialogue

Hey, guys! I've been reading a lot of DC Batfamily fanfiction lately, and in doing so I realized how little I see of ASL being represented in written text (love you, Cass!). I wanted to briefly talk about tactics to writing American Sign Language (ASL), and ways that these techniques can help improve your writing in more general contexts!

SOME THINGS BEFORE WE GET STARTED

I will be discussing everything in terms of ASL! If you have a character who uses Chinese Sign Language or even British Sign Language, the same rules will not necessarily apply! Don't be afraid to do some extra research on them.

Do not let this dissuade you from writing a character who signs ASL! This is by no means the end-all be-all to writing ASL dialogue, and I do not intend this post to insinuate that by writing ASL the same way you write English you are deeply offending the Deaf community. If this is something you're interested in though, I highly recommend experimenting with the way you write it! Above all, have fun with your writing.

Related to 2nd rule, but still very important: not everyone will agree that sign language should be treated/written any differently than English. This is a totally valid and understandable stance to take! I do not hope to invalidate this stance by making this post, but rather to introduce an interested audience to how ASL operates in the modern world, and how that can be translated into text.

ADDRESSING SOME MISCONCEPTIONS

ASL is the same as English, just with gestures instead of words.

Actually, no! There is a language that exists that is like that: it's called Signing Exact English, and it's an artificial language; i.e., it did not come about naturally. All languages came from a need to communicate with others, and ASL is no different! It is a language all on it's own, and there is no perfect 1:1 way to translate it to English, just as any spoken language.

2. But everyone who signs ASL knows how to read English, don't they?

No, actually! Because it's a completely different language, people who sign ASL and read English can be considered bilingual: they now know two languages. In fact, fingerspelling a word to a Deaf person in search for the correct sign does not usually work, and is far from the preferred method of conversing with Deaf people.

3. Because ASL does not use as many signs as we do words to articulate a point, it must be an inferior language.

Nope! ASL utilizes 5 complex parameters in order to conversate with others: hand shape, palm orientation, movement, location, and expression. English relies on words to get these points across: while we may say "He's very cute," ASL will sign, "He cute!" with repeated hand movement and an exaggerated facial expression to do what the "very" accomplishes in the English version: add emphasis. Using only ASL gloss can seem infantilizing because words are unable to portray what the other four parameters are doing in a signed sentence.

4. Being deaf is just a medical disability. There's nothing more to it.

Fun fact: there is a difference between being deaf and being Deaf. You just said the same thing twice? But I didn't! To be deaf with a lowercase 'd' is to be unable to hear, while being Deaf with an uppercase is to be heavily involved in the Deaf community and culture. Deaf people are often born deaf, or they become deaf at a young age. Because of this, they attend schools for the Deaf, where they are immersed in an entirely different culture from our own. While your family may mourn the loss of your grandfather's hearing, Deaf parents often celebrate discovering that their newborn is also deaf; they get to share and enjoy their unique culture with their loved one, which is a wonderful thing!

YOU MENTIONED ASL GLOSS. WHAT IS THAT?

ASL gloss is the written approximation of ASL, using English words as "labels" for each sign. ASL IS NOT A WRITTEN LANGUAGE, so this is not the correct way to write it (there is no correct way!): rather, it is a tool used most commonly in classrooms to help students remember signs, and to help with sentence structure.

IF THERE'S NO CORRECT WAY TO WRITE IN ASL, THEN HOW DO I DO IT?

A most astute observation! The short answer: it's up to you. There is no right or wrong way to do it. The longer answer? Researching the culture and history, understanding sign structure, and experimenting with description of the 5 parameters are all fun ways you can take your ASL dialogue to the next level. Here are 3 easy ways you can utilize immediately to make dialogue more similar to the way your character is signing:

Sign languages are never as wordy as spoken ones. Here's an example: "Sign languages are never wordy. Spoken? Wordy." Experiment with how much you can get rid of without the meaning of the sentence being lost (and without making ASL sound goo-goo-ga-ga-y; that is to say, infantilizing).

Emotion is your friend. ASL is a very emotive language! If we were to take that sentence and get rid of the unnecessary, we could get something like "ASL emotive!" The way we add emphasis is by increasing the hand motion, opening the mouth, and maybe even moving the eyebrows. It can be rather intuitive: if you mean to say very easy, you would sign EASY in a flippant manner; if you mean to say so handsome, you would sign handsome and open your mouth or fan your face as if you were hot. Think about a game of Charades: how do you move your mouth and eyebrows to "act out" the word? How are you moving your body as your teammates get closer? There are grammar rules you can certainly look up if you would like to be more technical, too, but this is a good place to start!

Practice describing gestures and action. ASL utilizes three dimensional space in a lot of fun and interesting ways. Even without knowing what a specific sign is, describing body language can be a big help in deciphering the "mood" of a sentence. Are they signing fluidly (calm) or sharply (angry)? Are their signs big (excited) or small (timid)? Are they signing rushedly (impatient) or slowly? Messily (sad) or pointedly (annoyed)? Consider what you can make come across without directly addressing it in dialogue! Something ese about ASL is that English speakers who are learning it tend to think the speakers a little nosy: they are more than able to pick up on the unsaid, and they aren't afraid to ask about it.

Above all, don't be afraid to ask questions, do research or accept advice! New languages can be big and scary things, but don't let that make you shy away. Again, there is nothing wrong with deciding to write ASL the same as you write your English. I've personally found that experimenting with ASL dialogue in stories has aided me in becoming more aware of how to describe everything, from sappy emotional moments to action-packed fighting scenes. Writing ASL has helped me think about new ways to improve my description in more everyday contexts, and I hope it can be a big help to you as well, both in learning about Deaf culture and in pursuing your future writing endeavors. :)

P.S: I am quite literally only dipping my toes into the language and culture. I cannot emphasize how important it is to do your own research if it's someting you're interested in!

P.P.S: I want to apologize for my earlier P.S! What I meant by “I am … dipping my toes into the language and culture” was in direct regards to the post; what I should have said is “this post is only dipping its toes into the language and culture.” While I am not Deaf myself, I am a sophomore in college minoring in ASL and Deaf Culture, and I am steadily losing my hearing. Of course, that does not make me an authority figure on the topic, which is why I strongly encourage you to do your own research, ask your own questions, and consult any Deaf friends, family, or online peers you may have.

[starry-bi-sky]

Danyal Al Ghul: Incorrect Quotes and Miscellaneous Thoughts

Incorrect quotes-style snippets specifically for my danyal al ghul au here (which i really need to come up with a unique au name for atp). Because I thought it'd be funny. And also some miscellaneous headcanons thrown into the mix. Some context for the au: - Danyal is 5 years older than Damian (so 10 and 15) - Danny faked his death when he was 10. Talia knows and helped him with it. - Jazz, Sam, and Tucker do not know he's an ex-assassin.

-------- Snippet 1

Danny, dryly tapping his temple: I have, as the Americans say, irreparable psychological damage, right here.

Jazz, an older sibling first and foremost: well, it's good that you're self-aware.

-------- Snippet 2

Danny, aged 10, in the American foster planning to just age out of the system: *emanating Bad Vibes. Pure, Little Orphan Tom Riddle Energy*

Jazz, aged 12, coming in to adopt a new sibling with her parents: Him. This is my brother now :)

Danny: ...what

--------

Lilo and Stitch is Danny's favorite Disney movie. He watched it when he was 11 with Jazz when she was attempting to connect with him, and by this point Danny was becoming receptive to her efforts. They had a movie marathon in the living room one night.

Safe to say? It resonated with his little 11 year old heart strongly, and he related very strongly with both Nani and Stitch. He got unexpectedly emotional and hid in his room for the rest of the night. Jazz felt really bad, but it had the intended (but kinda unexpected) effect of him trying to be nicer to her afterwards.

-------- Snippet 3

Dash, aged 12, causing trouble again and getting intercepted by Danny: *scaling up a desk* AHHHHH! GET YOUR LITTLE FREAK, FOLEY!

Tucker: Hey! Danny is not a freak!

Dash: GET HIM TO BACK OFF

Tucker, was the kid Dash was messing with: ....whats in it for me

-------- Snippet 4

Danny, saying some questionably immoral shit: What. Why are you looking at me like that.

Tucker: Bro. I mean this as kindly as possible; what the fuck?

Sam: yeah, I'm with Tuck on this one.

-------- Snippet 5

Danny, ranting about Vlad: if it weren't for the laws of this land, I would have slaughtered him

Sam, painting his nails black: I'm pretty sure you'd slaughter him regardless of the laws of the land -- and quit moving, you're gonna mess me up.

Tucker: we've literally seen you debate yourself about this, Dan

Danny: ...you are correct, but it is the principle of things.

-------- Snippet 6

Vlad: I have experience my child, and the money and power attained through using those powers for personal gain, you say. I could train you, teach you everything I know! And all you have to do is renounce that idiot adoptive father of yours.

Danny, was already contemplating committing a Violence: ....

Danny, internally: I'm going to stab him *turns into Phantom*

--------

Funny contrast I realized between Danyal and Vlad that iirc I haven't pointed out yet is that imo, Danyal doesn't rely on his powers nearly half as much as canon Danny does. He falls back instinctually on his League training, and thus sometimes forgets to use his powers in battle. This was prevalent especially early on when he was still getting used to the whole 'halfa' thing.

He incorporates them more often after a year, but still for the most part relies on his own physical hand-to-hand combat. He trusts those skills much more than he does his powers. I'm not sure where he is on a technical level compared to canon, but just to stay safe I'll say he's similar in power skill as canon Danny. Perhaps a little more finessed than him because his League training would probably have him trying to figure out his powers as soon as possible.

But in summary? Danny is strong in hand-to-hand combat, weak in powerset.

Meanwhile Vlad is the opposite. I can't recall if he even knows hand-to-hand in canon, but it makes total sense to me that Vlad Masters wouldn't because he's so confident in his monetary influence and ghost abilities that he sees no need for it.

And he's kinda got some merit behind it. He's very powerful and has 20 years of experience to experiment and fine tune his powers. He's got bite to follow up his bark. He's perfected long-range combat and his ability to phase through walls makes it impossible to corner him, but if you can manage it, then one good hit could probably knock him on his ass.

So in summary, Vlad is strong in powerset, weak in hand-to-hand combat.

And it casts a good contrast between the two of them in that regard. Danny, as a fellow halfa, can follow Vlad when he phases through walls and is fast enough to land a hit on him. His league training as an assassin, albeit rusty, is still deep ingrained enough in him that he can hold up as a rather veritable threat against Vlad without needing his powers.

But Vlad can force Danny to use his powers more often through use of his own. The duplication is the first thing to come to mind: Danny's fast enough to dispel them on his own without powers, and smart enough that he could figure out who the real one is if given a few minute. But that's not always efficient enough.

Good foils for each other that way. Also Vlad's Plasmius design mimics Ra's juuust enough that he looks like Ra's knockoff loser second cousin no one talks about, which only fuels Danny's hatred.

-------- Snippet 7

Danny, ranting about Vlad for the first time: --and it's only made worse by the fact that the little ingrate resembles a cheap knock-off of my grandfather!--

Sam, choking on her water: he what--

Tucker, doing a spittake: HE DOES?

[neoraso]

talk to me in your love language | lmk

idol!mark x non!idol reader (him being an idol is not part of the plot at all, it's just for context) wc: ~2.8k warnings: i truthfully do not know how it became suggestive it was supposed to be sweet, still only like pg-13, lots of kissing and suggestive comments but no actual smut.

it really was nothing big, so why was your heart racing? this was absolutely not the first time you’ve prepared gifts for mark, but you never got over the giddiness that came with waiting for him to come home. whenever you made these small gestures, he always made sure to let you know how thankful he was, how special you were to him, but even still, sometimes you felt like it wasn’t enough. it was hard to say how you felt out loud, so you relied on writing it in letters, sometimes with stickers or little doodles. flowers and his favorite snacks, printed pictures of the two of you were the usual pairings. these gifts were given sporadically and usually for no reason other than you felt a surge of love that had to come out somehow.

oh well, it didn’t matter now because you could already hear the keypad being pressed as the front door opened, followed by an immediate calling out for you. it was nearing 8 p.m. and he had left at 9 o’clock this morning so, as usual, he had had an exhausting day. with an inward sigh, you hoped this would cheer him up. he had told you on occasion that no matter how much he worked, how little he slept, or how defeated he felt, seeing and being with you made everything worth it. now that he had you, there was no way he could live without you. of course, you felt the same and took opportunities like this to prove it.

“babe?” you could tell he hadn’t even gotten his shoes off or put his bag down before half shouting again, “baby? are you home?”

you busied yourself grabbing his gift from the drawer of your bedside table before responding as you exited the bedroom.

“yes sir. here i am.” you replied, dramatically spreading your arms with a sweet grin. you were sure you’d never get tired of looking at him and how his face lights up with a smile that spreads slowly when he sees you.

shaking his head to move his bangs out of his eyes, he immediately walked towards you, hands drawn to your hips and smiling oh so sincerely down at you.

“how’s my girl?” he said lowly, sliding his hands up and down your sides. “you gonna give me a kiss or what? been waiting all day.”

already flustered even after being with him so long, sometimes he caught you off guard with how bold he could be now. he had certainly grown from the bashful, wide-eyed boy you knew him as years ago. what’s worse is half the time he didn’t even realize what he was doing.

“i’m good…” you dragged out the words trying to ignore how close his mouth was to yours. his eyes were trained on your lips and you knew he was only half paying attention.

you could barely keep it together when his nose touched yours and his mouth slid over your slightly parted lips. just before he could have his way with you, you spoke against him.

“i got you something…”

at this, his eyes widened and he pulled away to see what you were talking about, his gaze trailed down to your right hand landing on the small jewelry box in your palm.

“what’s this? it’s not my birthday. wait- is it?”

you couldn’t help but laugh at how startled he was. “no, it’s not your birthday- or any other occasion, don’t worry. no occasion other than just another day i wanted to say i love you.”

he had still been holding your waist but now reached up to take the box from you before looking back into your eyes with a glint of something in his own that you couldn’t put your finger on.

“let me know if it fits you or you don’t like it and i can return it…” suddenly self-conscious, you started twisting the ring he had given you on your one year anniversary around your finger. it had become a habit when you were nervous to fidget with the band engraved with his initial. he picked up on this as well, but instead of commenting he simply opened the box carefully. a smile instantly cut across his face when he figured out what was engraved on the pendant of the thin, shiny silver bracelet. then you could also tell that he noticed the small note attached to the inside of the lid.

day one of my forever <3

“is this the date of when i actually like finally for real asked you to be my girlfriend?” he said through the grin that had only widened after looking at your expectant expression. as obsessed and endeared by him as you were, he was sure he was at least eight times more enamored with you. you let out a laugh at his description, nodding to confirm.

“yeah i thought, maybe you should have something of us too. obviously something not too flashy because… you know. but i just thought it would be cute. i can get the chain adjusted if it’s too short or-“

he cut you off with a kiss to your cheek, pulling you in for a hug and kissing your hair when he had you close enough.

“it’s perfect baby. thank you so much…” he trailed off, swaying with you in his arms (still in the doorway.) after a couple minutes, he breathed in slowly and deeply before speaking again.

“i feel like you’re always doing these things for me, and i can never reciprocate.” you could’ve sworn his voice cracked at the end of his sentence which alarmed you because he was almost never choked up and especially not over a bracelet. instead of pulling away to look at him (because you knew he probably wouldn’t let you if he was actually crying) you patted his back, holding him tight too.

“aw baby,” you reassured him, “i don’t do this for anything in return. this is just how i show my love. i love you unconditionally anddon’t expect anything from you on top of everything you already do for me.” now you did pull away, slightly pushing him backwards by his chest. you only briefly acknowledged how his eyes were just a bit shinier than normal and instead pulled his face to yours with both hands now that they were free.

kissing him in between phrases you tried to tell him how you felt.

“you’re so sweet to me,”

“always cheering me up,”

“making sure i get good sleep, if i’ve taken my vitamins,” he was chasing your mouth at this point, nearly drunk from how much affection was pouring out of you.

“hugging me~”

“holding me~”

“making me laugh~”

“and, you give me gifts too.” with a final kiss you stood back and patted his chest and continued, “so basically, don’t feel bad. you just express it differently. and i’ve never doubted your love. not even once. okay?”

he hid his face in your neck and pressed his lips against the skin there, dragging his mouth back and forth making you shiver and thread your fingers through the hair at the back of his head.

“okay… well i really do love it. and i love you,” he kissed your neck and continued as his lips ghosted upwards towards your ear, “you know i’d do anything for you don’t you?”

“yes…i do…” your answer was airy as you could only whisper trying to keep your knees from buckling with how close he was. obviously, he was unaware of the effect he was having on you because he keptgoing, moving upwards and inhaling audibly before kissing your cheek, finally ghosting over the corner of your mouth until pressing against your lips full on. you responded immediately, giving in to his original request (a mutually beneficial one).

surprisingly, he pulled away before you, just far enough that you could look into his eyes but still feel his warm breath on your face.

“you know i keep everything you give me. every letter, the movie tickets from our dates, i even still have that little shell you found at the beach and gave to me just because it was pretty.” now he was smiling again, petting your hair and straightening his posture upwards so his mouth was level with your forehead, leaving yet another kiss there. you hadn’t said anything to his confession, stunned that things you thought were insignificant meant so much to him. your lack of response didn’t faze him because he knew what you meant to say just from the way you looked up at him.

“come on, help me put this on then we can get some food, i’m starving.”

“you didn’t eat?” you asked him with a frown, now grabbing the fabric of his hoodie at his wrists that were hanging onto your shoulders.

instead of answering right away, he just straightened his arms more, starting to step forward forcing you to walk backwards, you could only laugh a bit at how you both had to waddle all the way to the couch.

“nah, i ate earlier today but i left before the guys did so i could see you.” he belatedly replied, looking a bit too happy with his decision even in the face of your glare (even though he had tried to explain to you that it was more adorable than menacing). you spared him the lecture about taking care of himself because all that mattered now was that he was here, and you could take care of him all you wanted.

he flopped onto the couch with a loud sigh, swiftly pulling you down too with the grip he had on you. you scooted back, getting more comfortable when he guided your legs over his lap throwing his head over the back of the sofa with his eyes closed. you could see the exhaustion in his face and let out a small breath too, causing him to open one eye to check on you only to find you looking back at him fondly. you reached towards his hand that was still grasping the jewelry box, but he seemed to think that you meant to hold his hand because he grabbed your fingers as soon as they touched the cool leather of the box.

“i was trying to help you put this on, silly.”

“oh” was all he could say, the tips of his ears red as he tried to calm his heart down, letting go of the gift and wondering if it was always going to be this nerve-wracking being around you.

he hoped so.

he was still looking at you with visible  heart eyes by the time you finished securing the bracelet around his wrist. before you removed your left hand, he softly held your fingers over his palm, admiring the ring on your middle finger.

“you wear this every day huh?” he said, chest puffing with pride at his girl wearing a ring with his name. he only saw your nod out of the corner of his eye before getting lost back in thought. he began stroking the finger next to it, your ring finger. he took a pause, with his eyes still fixed on your hand. “there’ll be a ring here next, i promise.”

you didn’t even have a chance to say anything before he leaned over to leave a quick kiss on your lips before continuing like nothing had happened. the tension dissipated just as easily as he had built it up, giving you major whiplash (which actually was nothing new with him).

“i’m thinking chicken, whatchu want girl?” he was teasing you now, squeezing the flesh of your exposed thigh, his bracelet cool against your skin. his other hand maneuvered his phone out of his pocket. your mind was still replaying his words from just a second ago, so you responded dazedly,

“whatever you want baby.” you replied simply, truly just wanting him to eat at all.

“aw, i have everything i want but i would also like some fried chicken.” he replied looking all too pleased with himself.

“how romantic.” you said flippantly, adjusting your position onto your knees to look at his phone screen for the menu. after about 30 seconds you realized he was staring at you again. when you turned your head to face him, he grinned as if this was his plan all along.

“hi.” he said simply, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. it was your turn to be flustered now as you could feel your face heating up, but you still didn’t want to look away.

“hello...”

he looked at you for a moment.

“you’re so pretty, did you know that?”

he says this often, and still, it never fails to make your heart skip a beat.

“my boyfriend has told me that once or twice…”

“hm, seems like your boyfriend is slacking, what ever could he do to show you how special you are?” he played right along.

“well, he could kiss me right now for starters…”

“that’s a simple enough request.” he was already leaning in with his nose brushing yours. you met him there, parting your lips when he lightly grabbed your cheeks. he hastily slid his tongue in and pressed you impossibly close, practically panting into your mouth when you reciprocated just as eagerly. his eyes were still closed and his chest was rising and falling just a tad heavier than usual when you pulled away from him.

this only lasted for five seconds before he was already guiding you towards his face by the back of your neck so you had to talk against his mouth.

“my boyfriend…allllways shows me how pretty and special i am to him.” you kissed him once, “i have no complaints.” another kiss “love him more than he knows.” a final kiss to his lips, another on the beauty mark on each of his cheeks and a final one to his nose before attempting to sit back up.

this whole time you had been hovering over him sideways, only being held up by your hand on his knee. it was such an awkward position you tried to return to your original arrangement but he refused, tugging you closer and manipulating your hips until you were sat with your back on his chest.

“there we go, now you can help me order.” he rested his cheek on your head and turned his face a bit to kiss you there several times.

“you know what i like baby, i trust you to order.”

“yeah i do know what you like, i could show you if you want…” you couldn’t see him but you know he was smirking and raising his eyebrows suggestively like he always did when he tried to start something.

“can you order the food first and then show me?”

“can you kiss me again?”

“mark.”

“ok my bad, my bad.” finally paying for the food he all but threw his phone to the side and almost instantaneously flipping you (as delicately as possible) with your back to the couch, hovering over you.

“wow, somebody is excited.” you teased before holding in your breath when he put his face in your neck, immediately mouthing at it.

“wanted to be with my girl allll day, you gonna deny me of it?” he leaned back up over you, with a pleading look on his face. he knew if you didn’t really want his affection, you’d say it, so it was a half-rhetorical question.

“no, no, carry on cutie pie”

he groaned at this making you giggle, knowing how calling him cute makes him want to prove something. it was a fun trick you liked to pull out every once in a while.

“ugh dude, you’re killing the moment right now, we were having a moment.”

you opted to trail your finger along the neckline of his hoodie and lifting your knee upwards so it brushed the inside of his thigh. his expression was one of slight panic which always satisfied you when you got to have your moments.

“so sorry baby, let’s go have a moment anywhere but this couch my neck is already getting tweaked i can feel it.”

with your green light, he got impatient all over again. he tugged you up off the couch with him, practically vibrating with anticipation. he couldn’t even wait to kiss you again, eagerly pressing his lips to yours once you got on your feet.

“i really do love the gift baby, and i love you, can’t wait to wear it everywhere. love you so much…” he was whispering against your mouth between each kiss, grabbing at your sides.

he had a tendency to be insatiable.

you had tangled your fingers in his hair in his frenzy and now worked to smooth down the strands. cooing at him,

“aw i love you too, you’re so sweet baby, and handsome, and if i recall correctly, were just offering to show me something…” you brought him back to the task at hand and he was quick with his response, nudging you towards the bedroom.

“wayyy ahead of you.”

the food could wait.

[stxrrynightskies]

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘…

✩°｡⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: m. fushiguro x reader

｡° ✮ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: megumi had been feeling under the weather as of the weekend, so you take it upon yourself to take care of him

‧₊˚✩ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒: mentions of being sick, megumi being stubborn (and clingy), cuddling, kisses, physical affection, fluff, sick fic, canon universe but does not follow the plot of jjk

ೃ༄ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1.2k

⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: this fic is like a part two of my previous megumi fic, but can still be read as a standalone without needing context (check out the request here)

He knew it was a bad idea. Going into the rain for that long without proper protection was sure to lead to some sort of illness, especially since he didn't properly warm up right after he went back inside.

But despite the fact that he was now curled up in bed, and running a god-awful fever, he didn't regret a thing. In fact, he enjoyed every second he spent out in the rain with you. Your bright smile was more than enough to compensate for his now sickly state.

The only downside? He was missing you. When you left in the morning, telling him you needed to go back to your dorm to change for the day and that you would see him in class, he had to restrain himself from reaching out for you to pull you back into bed with him. He knew he was sick before you even left, and he hated it.

Being sick always made Megumi clingy. It would remind him of when he was younger, and Tsumiki would take care of him. She was the only one he would rely on. But ever since she was admitted to the hospital, he was left on his own. Hence why he always tried to err on the side of caution.

Another cough shook his body, reminding him that he was in no state to attend class. He sighed, tossing his phone onto the opposite side of the bed before curling back up under the warmth of his multiple blankets as he drifted off back to sleep. Painfully unaware of the calls he was receiving from you.

“Megs?” You knocked on his door.

After the first twenty minutes of class had gone by and no sign of him, you were worried. Yes, you saw him earlier when you woke up in his arms, and he looked fine, just a little groggy. But you just assumed the tired look in his eyes was from him waking up a few minutes prior. But seeing as his desk was empty, you knew it was something more than that.

“Are you okay? You weren’t in class today.” You sighed. There was no answer. And something told you that he wasn’t going to answer the door.

You were honestly about to give up hope until you heard the lock click and the door crack open just as you were about to leave. Megumi peeked his head out ever so slightly, his eyes softening as they landed on your figure.

“What are you doing here?” He coughed.

“You weren’t in class.”

“I wasn’t feeling like it.”

“But you never skip class.”

You took a good look at your boyfriend in front of you. Disheveled hair, bright red cheeks, tired eyes. Everything pointed to the same thing. He was sick. But knowing Megumi, he wasn’t about to admit it out loud.

He was a stubborn boy. One that didn’t like showing how he felt. But he didn’t have to, because you were always there. You understood him in a way that most people could only imagine. So you could easily tell what was going on.

“You’re sick.” You stated.

“No, I’m not.” He quickly tried to deflect the statement, but the hoarse cough he let out did nothing to help him.

“Yeah right.”

You pushed Megumi into the dorm, letting yourself in. Despite his protests, he didn’t try to force you out. He knew you meant well, after all.

“‘m fine.” The boy continued to insist.

“Just get back into bed.” You shooed him away towards his bed.

Megumi reluctantly laid back down on his bed as you got to work. You already had a sneaking suspicion that he wasn’t feeling well before you showed up at his door. So you came prepared.

He let out a soft sigh as he felt you place a damp cloth over his forehead. His fever had left him feeling all warm and sluggish throughout the day, and the cloth felt like heaven to him.

With him finally relaxing, you got back to work preparing some soup for him with the groceries you had just bought for him.

He was still being stubborn. Constantly insisting that he didn’t need you to take care of him. “You’ll get sick too,” was his excuse.

“You’re sick because I dragged you out into the rain. The least I can do is take care of you.” You sat beside his bed, a tray of soup on your lap.

“It’s fine.”

The boy wasn’t going to let up, he didn’t want to be a bother to you by having you take care of him because had a measly fever.

“No.” You pushed another spoonful of soup into his mouth. “I’m not leaving until I know you’re okay.”

“I don’t want you getting sick too.”

“That’s a shame. Because I’m not leaving.” You place a quick kiss on his temple and continue to hold the spoon out.

When he saw the determined look on your face, Megumi sighed, knowing you were serious. So, he accepted defeat, allowing you to feed him the soup and then eventually, the medicine.

“Now go back to sleep. I’ll leave you alone now.” You grabbed your bag, ready to leave him alone for the night to rest after cleaning up.

But as you were walking away, you felt a warm hand gently grab your wrist. “Stay…” A small whisper was thrown out.

He didn’t want you to leave. Not after your actions brought him so much comfort. It brought back memories of his sister. In a way, you reminded him of her. Your smile, the warm, comfortable feeling you brought him. Except, you had this… this look in your eyes whenever you looked at him. One filled with nothing but pure, unadulterated love.

You dropped your bag down again, letting it slump on the wooden floor as you knelt beside his bed, staring at him.

“Do you need anything else?” You asked.

Megumi shook his head, pulling you closer until you were beside him under the blanket. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer until your back was pressed up against his chest while he rested his chin on your head.

You were still processing the fact that he was clinging to you, he’d never been so touchy-feely with you — with anyone for that matter. Maybe it was just the fever fogging his brain. Not that you minded.

Even if it meant catching whatever bug he had, you would graciously accept the physical affection you were receiving from your boyfriend.

He looked down at you, smiling a little, as he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on your forehead. You turned to face him better and placed a kiss of your own on his lips. He eagerly returned it, pressing up to you again, keeping his lips locked onto yours.

Once you broke the kiss, he yawned. Being sick was taking a toll on him, not that he cared all that much. Why would he? He had you in his arms. And that was all that mattered.

“I love you…” He croaked.

“I love you too.” You kissed him one more time for good measure. “Now go to sleep.”

“Will you stay?”

“Always.”

𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃

[katakaluptastrophy]

Continuing to think about the horror of what happens to John, and the horrors of love...

When Alecto has first been created, she says to him "I picked you to change, and this is how you repay me?" and "What have you done to me?"

They're heartbreaking questions she has every right to ask, but there's something awful and ironic about them too. Because John also might have asked "what have you done to me?"

It's easy to get distracted by the cartoonish awfulness of John's own narration: "talk about police abuse", "come on, love. Guys as careful as me don't have accidents," "love a working tram system." But all of these comments come after moments where John has unwittingly come into proximity with violent death, an experience he repeatedly likens to having drugs forcibly injected into him; an omniscient, dream-like, out of body experience that seems to propel him forward through his basest impulses. The first time this happens, he's brought back from "the verge of something insane" by being shaken violently by P-. Lines like these aren't revealing John's diabolical plotting. They're a man who would rather own atrocities as premeditated than admit that he was losing his grip.

The second is when he encounters the soul of the earth. His human mind makes contact with the incoherent, furious soul of a planet. In any other context, this would be straightforwardly Lovecraftian. And everything he describes after that is full of elipses, jumbled, and detached. His friends are shot by gun-toting cultists and he says it was like a dream.

Hearing the earth screaming, feeling his friends' deaths under his skin like a drug, he might well have asked "what have you done to me?"

Alecto said to him, "I picked you to change, and this is how you repay me?" But as everything collapses, John says:

"I thought you were going to take me, somehow. Purge me. Use me as an instrument. But you didn't say anything...I was babbling, Show me. Come on. I'm ready. You kept screaming and screaming..."

John has spent months becoming something terrifying, an entity with yellow eyes and uncanny powers. He's discovered that death has an overwhelming impact on him that he cannot fully control. Everyone was relying on him to do something. And he did so many things: well-meaning things and stupid things and things that were lashing out in rage and frustration. Hundreds of people have died because of him. His friends have died because of him. Surely, surely there was a point to this. Surely there was meaning. Surely whatever did this to him, made him into this, had a greater plan.

But there is no plan. There is no great revelation. He tries to hurt the earth, to provoke some kind of answer, but the screaming continues. And when P dies, the person who snapped him out of it the last time, John lets go and the whole world dies.

John is kneeling on the grass vomiting up dirt and tearing out his own ribs, saying "there was still too much of me that was just a human being...", trying to swallow the soul of the earth. And by the end, the one shred he has to hold onto is a memory of playing with a doll as a child. That, and his anger...

The earth tried to reach out in the only way it could, amidst its incoherent suffering. And John tried to use the abilities it gave him, but he was only human. Fallible and proud and angry.

She said, "I still love you." And the horror; the horror of love, the horror of this story, is that to begin with they did this to each other.

To be clear: I don't mean to diminish the awfulness or the very specific forms that John's violence against Alecto takes, and continues to take across the story. I don't mean to excuse his own self-mythologisation. I certainly don't think he's blameless for the decisions he made and the agenda he pursued. But if there's one thing that happens over and over again in TLT, it's that the horror of love is not a one-way street.

And I wonder, in light of what we now know about the permeability of the soul, quite where John ends and Alecto begins. And when that blurring began...

[bunji-enthusiast]

Only Man (Your own love kills)

Note || jealousy scenario rahhh, it’s kinda one? Or isn’t? Idk I went down the hills. Also some context, some humans actually survived the hour of joy, so there is a few mentions of camp stuffs.

WC || 896

Sypnosis || In a world of comfort, seems he can’t begin to fathom the reality of emotions settling within him.

Have you ever been in love?

If he was being honest, life was fuzzy, even more so temperamental that he was from human to dusk and dawn. But he wouldn’t have traded it for anything if it meant he would see you in his non-life or life over and over again.

That is one thing so entirely unique to the quality of dogs, they are loyal and strong with you to the end.

In the sense of irony, he never would’ve expected to be DogDay. But he had long since lived with the idea that he lived this way, to be a leader and a friend to all those he held dear. He never would’ve become anything else, not if he had anything to do with it.

DogDay doesn’t mind sacrificing his own life and body to protect others, to mean if they live. Sure, he may not live to see that aspect he was wholeheartedly himself, that was how he knew he wasn’t completely off the dark end as DogDay.

It was his name and his alone, to be frank; madness, torment and the ripping away of the happiness once had was abnormally flippant to the reality he once knew and loved. DogDay had lived with it, it became the norm for him to live so strongly, trying to be a light those can vy for and not lose themselves in the process.

Love was one remaining factor to his stillborn life, DogDay wasn’t anchoring toward anything. Always having to down his head in order for those alive and their with him meant he could live with that, strong willed humans and toys alike holding their heads up high, that meant he had to stand still and straight so they could see how far they had come.

Hush little baby don’t you cry.

That tune was familiar, was he here? Beyond the specific residence of his permeance, no, he was alive and here. Everyone was okay, camp to be sure, but you too were there. DogDay was content, he didn’t even need words, actions were more than enough.

Everything’s gonna be alright.

You were singing such a wonderful tune, yet a wrenching pit in the gut of his fabricated stomach caused him to think otherwise from the place of his peace. A human male was getting a little too close to you for his liking, trying to stray away from employee regulations no doubt. DogDay wasn’t gonna let that slide, he wasn’t going to allow him to tarnish your personal boundaries and sure as hell was gonna make sure that he knew that.

Stiffen that upper lip, little lady..

DogDay stood up from where he had sat, back being rubbed against the rubble stone wall, for a moment it almost hurt. Yet the pain faded away just as quickly as it came, he began walking, calming himself as your melodic tunes remained ever as wavering to his ears.

All was okay and well between the people in the encampment, strained suffice to say with the amount of space people were left with – but they all had each other to lean and rely on. Not akin to the likes of the Prototype and the rest of his brainwashed lackeys. 

‘Oh CatNap, I wish you could’ve come with us. Why turn to his side?’

DogDay perked up at the whisper shouting his down-trodded ears were picking up, seeing the easel of jealousy churning in his gut. You were trying to turn away the exact guy still with you from which he saw earlier, he turned around from where his body had been hidden from view.

You and the man were greeted by the sight of a very large DogDay.

You set down your guitar, smiling at seeing him. “Hi DogDay! What’s up?” He waved for a moment, then turned to sit down with you and the man. Who seemed to be clearly quivering in half-sighted fear, sensing the intentions of DogDay.

“Nothing to be worried about Angel,” He began, voice still roughed up from previous events. “But is this gentleman bothering you?” DogDay asked, motioning to the man who began inching away from the both of you, seeing as he made (a very clear) mistake.

You waved DogDay off, “Oh this guy? He ain’t bothering me.” Head turning before you had spoke with a hint of finality.

“You were leaving, right?” The man nodded, the look of fear very evident on his poor face. Then he finally walked off with a stride that clearly spoke, ‘Don’t kill me please.’ 

In hindsight, DogDay was going to shield you from him. It seemed that was all it took to get you away from his very slimy presence, he sighed internally, as he wasn’t one to want to cause altercations.

He was a more methodical man – toy? Person? – then that anyway, DogDay then looked up, gaining eye contact with you. With a small wave of his paw in return, “Weren’t you singing? I’d love to hear more of it, Angel.” You smile at him with a scoff escaping you, picking up the guitar to re-adjust your position that you had set your fingers upon the lines originally.

DogDay was glad to be up close to hear your beautiful singing.

Compared to that icky emotion he felt earlier, that was rather confusing as he thought about it.

This was much better.

[haine-kleine]

after sitting with my thoughts about the epilogue for some time, I think the thing that broke the story had started right after Dabi's dance. said thing is LOV' utterly out of character treatment of each other and Shigaraki specifically.

them just standing there and passively observing the scene makes absolutely zero sense, if you use anything from their previously established relationships within the organisation for reference. especially with All for One's creepy comments. Spinner even points out shortly before this chapter that AFO!Shigaraki seems nothing like his normal self and this person is not the one he had chosen to follow.

and yes, Spinner does approach screaming Shigaraki and tries to help him, and his concern later leads him to seeing Shigaraki's mutated form in the cave, and on its own this development for Spinner is in line with his character and all around fine. pretty reminiscent of Toga and Twice, too.

(except Spinner is not allowed to really help Shigaraki in any way, unlike Toga was allowed to help Twice, and this entire thing between Shigaraki and Spinner only ends with Spinner's regrets and survivor's guilt instead of anything good or meaningful that isn't meaningless angst porn)

it isn't Spinner approaching Shigaraki that is the issue, it's the other's complete lack of action or even reaction besides appearing mildly disturbed. this is simply out of character for all of them, just judging by Twice's example who had similar breakdowns and wasn't plainly ignored by the others until his fit stops. this reaction makes even less sense, when you take into account the current state of the League. Twice had just been murdered by Hawks, the double agent who had infiltrated the League via Dabi, and Mister Compress had just sacrificed himself to give the League a chance for escape, and was sent to Tartarus immediately after his condition was no longer life threatening. Kurogiri is also being held captive by the heroes. there are only four of them left, with two dead and two captured. and none of them even mention the dead or the captured outside of the context of Kurogiri and his quirk.

this straight out makes no sense if you look back to the Overhaul arc and remember how far Shigaraki and the rest of them were willing to go to avenge Magne's death and Mr Compress' destroyed arm. this was important.

the event had motivated Shigaraki to be a better leader, because he had realized these people depend on him, and he won't let them be hurt under his protection. it had started the seed of self-doubt in Jin which would eventually grow to the desperation that allowed him to overcome the mental block against his quirk in the MVA arc, because he wanted to do everything he possibly could to help the League. it allowed him to make his clones despite the crippling trauma, because he saw Toga's hurt, bleeding body, and he didn't want her to die.

even fucking Giran, a broker whose very profession requires him to care about himself and his own well-being first and foremost, had sacrificed all of his fingers to prevent Redestro from getting his hands on the League. because he wants to protect them, to save them. and then we never actually see his mutilated hands or hear anything from him ever again.

and when Twice actually dies? all we get in response to that are two upset faces from Dabi and Toga's fury. that's it.

i really want to stress how out of character this barely-present reaction is, because Magne's example is right there and when Overhaul had killed her, the League knew each other for no longer than a month. this League has been together for at least half a year, had been through thick and thin together, had spent months on the run, homeless, having no one but each other to rely on, has defeated the Meta Liberation Army, quite literally, with the power of their friendship. they all cared enough about each other and Shigaraki specifically to stay with him during those months they had to fight Gigantomachia with barely any breaks for rest, still homeless, barely scraping by. it was imperative that they all survive through this together, especially for Shigaraki, who had went on this quest of getting stronger at least partly so that he would become a more reliable protector for the League. and when Twice falls victim to the hero who had murdered him in cold blood, because no one except for Dabi was there to save him, Shigaraki doesn't even get to react to Twice's death, and possibly never even learns about the fact.

on topic of Dabi, his reaction being exactly two frames of sad expressions and including the footage of Twice's murder into his broadcast, and ending immediately after that, also makes no sense. Dabi is someone who holds himself accountable and despite his declarations, cares about the League, it's the very reason he was keeping Hawks from the League and sprinted to Twice as soon as he realized Hawks' intentions with him, to protect him. Dabi's unsuccessful attempt to save Twice is another iteration of Overhaul, a combination of Shigaraki and Twice's roles in the tragedy. but unlike Shigaraki, who had steeled himself into taking care of his subordinates and becoming a responsible and strong leader, or Twice who had never forgotten about his role in the incident, Dabi just somehow forgets about the entire thing as soon as the first war is over. Toga is the one whom the narrative allows to actively react to Twice's death and express her grief. it makes sense that her reaction would be the strongest, as she was the closest with Twice, but why are two LOV members no longer allowed to care about the same incident at the same time? why aren't they allowed to protect each other anymore, when Giran, who is not even in the League, had made that sacrifice for them?

These are pretty small things, but it's these instances of Toga and Dabi preventing Machia from being injected with the sedative, protecting the League that are sorely missing in the second war.

and the biggest act of devotion and protection to the League, which was the last time we saw anything like this for them, Mister Compress' last moments with the League.

Mutilating his own body just to buy them five seconds to possibly escape. Because he loved the League, because he wanted all of them to be happy and achieve their dreams, to be free, and to live.

and in return for the favour, not only do they not come back for him like they did for Kurogiri (because his quirk is important for the plot, while Compress' isn't), but none of them mention Compress ever again. same with Twice (with the exception of Toga), same with Magne. from this point onwards, none of them are allowed by the plot to even care about the League of Villains. the interpersonal relationships between two individuals still shine through, occasionally, like Spinner's devotion to Shigaraki (and him alone), Dabi and Toga's pyromaniac trauma lane visit to her house and him giving her Twice's blood, Kurogiri reaching out to Shigaraki in the very end. but what about the League? ahd what about the dead members of the League, or Mister Compress?

somehow, at the point of the final war it boils down to the generalized conflict of heroes vs villains and the morality gymnastics involved in the concept. on its own, this would have been an okay development, if the examples the story was using to prove its point weren't people who had become very close friends and who had lost four people to this war against the heroes.

if the individual conflicts, like Toga's desperation to be acknowledged as human being deserving of affection, Dabi's familial abuse trauma and Shigaraki's lifelong manipulation by All for One not giving him any chance to be saved at all, were the finishing line of the villains' story development, why join them within the League at all? LOV is a separate concept functioning as a collective uniting all these villains, giving them a place to belong and people who give a fuck whether they live or die. except not anymore, because for some reason after the first war this concept is scratched completely.

so why not make them mere acquaintances who sometimes collaborate to bother the heroes together, if the bond between them got in the way of the story and wasn't the point of the story? why prove the depth of their bond with the Overhaul and My Villain Academia arcs? why make Shigaraki develop relationships and a sense of responsibility for these people at all, if in the very end his desire to save these people is denied by the author himself?

the previous arcs have spent a great deal of effort establishing that the villains are human too. they have human feelings, human desires and human relationships. so why is it that in the final arc their ability to experience human emotions towards each other is turned on and off manually by the author? at the very end even the author stops pretending like anything happening to the villains is evaluated on the scale of human experiences (unlike the heroes, whose injuries and deaths are talked about and mourned in great detail) and Kurogiri and Shigaraki are wiped out like plot inconveniences rather than important and well written characters.

honestly? it's ironically meta that the story ended up proving the very point it has spent 400 chapters arguing against.

[hereforthehitsbaby]

Peeper | Cooper Adams/Abbott x F!Reader

Synopsis: Getting the Halloween season started early with back to back parties was enough to drain you – tucker you out in a heartbeat. But Cooper used it as an excuse to see you, really see you.

Warnings: Dark!Cooper, Mentions of Stalking, Perv!Cooper, Cooper Being a Peeping Tom, Male Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Mentions of Childhood Abuse, Mentions of Fire, Mentions of a Hostage Situation, Mentions of Being Held Hostage, Choking

Rating: M

Word Count: 5.5k

Author’s Note: The SWAT outfit brought this on. You’re welcome in advance. This is second person POV from Cooper’s perspective; I wanted to try something a bit different so I hope you enjoy!  

If you would like to be tagged for my fics, please fill this out

The darkness of night is the perfect way to hatch plans, the perfect way of preying on those who you find interest in. Never does it have to be in a malicious way. No, never does it have to be evil. It can be kind and clean, courteous and courageous, just depending on the context of the situation. Sometimes the darkness can hide a lot of bad things, shroud them in a cloud of abandon so evil can take over. They can run around on short legs, running here and there are supersonic speeds – to which no one can detect a thing. It’s brilliant in a way how evil can push itself through anyone – or anyone for that matter. How it can turn someone so delicate and perfect, into a monster overnight. But not for him, no, the evil didn’t burn itself into him from birth. He was a product of evil, a product of malice, a product of hate. He is the prodigal son of evil, he’s its perfect child.

To hide that part of himself away everyday ate at him, gnawing on his bones and flesh like a disease. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to lash out – surely anyone would from stressful work conditions to life not going the way it was planned out to be. Yet no one can justify it, no one can see that part of him, the truest part of his darkened soul. It’s a mystery, a character for that matter. Though he doesn’t see it that way. He sees it as an extension of his rage, his tumultuous upbringing and constant bullying – it is a part of his personality he can switch off with just the right coaxing. Like any type of characteristic, it isn’t long before others start to notice. Not in the way that you expect, but in a duller manner. Here and there things; His cleanliness, how he doesn’t like to leave his fingerprints anywhere, the order he needs things arranged or how he copes with uncertainty. They never raised red flags – but keen eyes took notice of his particular nature. If only they knew beneath the surface, a killer was in their midst.

Cooper Adams loves to save lives, that is a given. Fire chief for the Philadelphia Fire Department for ten years, in the business for a total of seventeen. This is what he was meant to do, what he was meant to be at the end of the day. He is the solace for those who are suffering, he is the salvation to those who are stuck. He can play God and be rewarded for it – how sweet is that? But to Cooper it isn’t about playing God or being the one who is in control, it’s more than that. It’s being who everyone relies on for stressful situations, the one who knows their way out of any type of deal. It’s prevalent in his eyes when he speaks, the passion he has for his job, his family – everything in his life really. A wholesome, well-rounded American individual; He is the picture-perfect example of masculinity. He’s the picture-perfect example of a psychopath.

Too much anger and rage was directed towards him as a child, and it was not beneficial for a growing brain. Rejection at a young age can cause fear; Fear of intimacy, fear of expression, always needing to people please to get someone to like you. Cooper went through that, way too much to admit. Always fighting to have his mother’s love, which he learned too early that would always come in the form of a hand across his face. His tears were tears of love, according to his mother. Every hit that was administered by her own hands, showed just how much she loved her son. Cooper couldn’t tell the difference until he got older – until she passed away. Alas, he felt free to be himself, instead of being her disappointment.

He never wanted to get into this line of work, other work per say. Like all others, the opportunity presented itself like any other day. A fresh-faced twenty-five-year-old who wanted to make a difference in the world after the tragedies the world faced. He wanted to be a household name, one where anyone in town could say and smiles would erupt. He would always be their hero, their martyr when the flames would not extinguish. If it meant saving everyone, he was always the first on the line. That was until his first ever fire, when he realized the world no longer had a need for his kindness – but his brutality. A seven-alarm fire at Aramark Tower in Center City was supposed to change his life forever, in which it did but not for the right reason. Cooper would’ve never described himself as a violent person, but this day changed everything.

On the twelfth floor sat the culprit for the fire, a worker who was holding a whole room hostage. Some of his very own firefighters were under this man’s unsteady hand. The gun was shaking uncontrollably in the man’s hand as he pointed it towards Cooper’s chest – the smoke slowly growing thicker from the floors above. The haze was starting to set in, and the man couldn’t stop coughing. At the moment he turned Cooper pressed the man’s front against the adjacent wall – letting all of the hostages out, the workers fleeing as the next group of firefighters came up. His own department, his flesh and blood. He was grateful they were there. But not from his firehouse, those ones fled with the chaos. Instead the firefighters from across down stared at him with amused looks, surely enough impressed that a young man like Cooper was holding his own against some sociopath. Cooper was wrong though, that is when he started to notice the evil within. Its bloodied fingers sinking into his flesh like razor wire, slicing and dicing his insides with every scale it climbed. He could feel it climbing up the column of his spine, sinking its meaty fingers through his spinal discs. “Good luck finding your way out, rookie.” Someone yelled at him as they slammed the door shut, barricading him in the inside.

All hell broke loose in that moment, that gnawing sensation he had when he was a child coming back into his adulthood – expect he couldn’t push it down anymore. Clawing at his own throat, he released a guttural scream of agony as the smoke filled the room – dropping to his hands and knees with animalistic movements. “We’re just kidding, bud. Welcome to the-“ Cooper didn’t recognize the voices, he didn’t understand who it was. The man he once held against the wall was cowering in the corner, rocking back and forth with the gun pressed into his palm. He stared at Cooper like he wasn’t human, but a creature. All Cooper could see was red, filling his vision, covering his mask to the point where he could not see. He could feel it though, his body moving languidly like he was swimming – graceful, intricate, serene. He was swimming out in Myrtle Beach like when he was a kid, feeling the crisp summer sun scorch him. But boy was it worth it, it felt safe again – knowing nothing could hurt him.

As if to wipe the sunscreen off of his forehead, Cooper brought his hand around his mask to clear off the water from it. Though it wasn’t water, and he was not swimming in the ocean. Instead in front of Cooper laid six bodies, cut into pieces. Blood coated his mask, his gear, his soul. Everything was red; The white walls coated in heroic blood of those firefighters. The man who held everyone hostage, a gunshot wound to the temple. Cooper’s eyes flared at the sight, chest heaving as the axe shook within his hand. The monster he always suppressed, let feed on his trauma and rejection as a child, finally found its place within his world – within his life. It was clear the fire was starting to burn closer to his floor when the sprinkles went off, a showering of clear and red flowing down the walls. The dark carpet soaked with the blood of the victims, and the chaos of his dissociation.

Cooper walked neatly over to the deceased man and laid the axe next to him, letting the sprinkles above soak his gear until no red stood. No one saw him go up to this floor, he never commed in like he was supposed to. No one would know it was him; The cameras are long gone. “Always the monster, Cooper. You will never outrun your evil, son.” His mom’s tender voice swept into his brain, causing him to tear up – for the amount he loathed that woman, he still missed her voice. Oxygen was starting to run low in his tank, but he knew he needed to get out. Instead of staying on the twelfth floor, Cooper managed to make his way down to the sixth, panting, out of breath, and soaked. “Adams! Where the fuck were you!?” His fire chief at the time yelled, dragging Cooper out of the doorway and into the conference room for a moment. “S-Sixteenth fl-floor. P-people s-screaming, d-d-dead.” Cooper managed to let out before he collapsed, the hard linoleum whacking against his head. Everything went dark so quick, but for the first time in his life – he felt justified.

Cooper gasps as he hears your voice coming from outside of his car, his hands shaking at the recounting of his trauma. Cooper hated waiting around, letting his mind wander, because every time it always brought him back to his first kills. The first ever lives he took, before The Butcher was his name. In a way he felt for those firefighters, knowing how the aftermath made him look to be an almost casualty of The Ripper. The narrative he chose for the last seventeen years has worked in his favor, and he would keep it that way. But alas, it eats at him just like that little demon did. But you, you were what he needed – you were his solace. You kept him sane and didn’t even know who he was. It was perfect. All Cooper could do now was slowly break you, and you’d never even know.

As you walked past Cooper’s black suburban, you pulled the nurse’s cap off of your head – thinking it appropriate to be a nurse for your first of many Halloween parties. The outfit complimented your body so well; Cooper loved watching how it hugged you in all the right places, showing off his favorite parts of you. He has seen you look at him so many times, like you fully saw him rather than it being through him. You made him feel alive, feel sane in such a cruel world. How could he ever thank you for that? Bringing himself back to reality as you walked to your front door, Cooper swallowed down the panic ready to break free from his throat, closing his eyes to ground himself. All this waiting, contemplation, it was all for you. All these months, silently pining over you, he knew his time would come soon. Your time will come soon. He wasn’t going to let this will they won’t they play out anymore. This wasn’t going to be like one of the books you liked to read – it was going to be better.

Thankfully with everyone in their Halloween costumes making their way back home, Cooper could easily blend in with the rest of the crowd. His costume was unconventional – but accurate, and cool. He managed to nab one of the Philadelphia SWAT tactical gear a while ago. Never did he think it would be of use, but here he is. It left him looking inconspicuous, blending in with all of his surroundings. When the streetlights would shut off at midnight, he didn’t need to worry about getting caught or even being seen. He could go full incognito and not have to worry – because at the end of the day no one in the neighborhood watched. They never looked out for each other or mentioned when things felt off. They were complacent in their day to day, keeping their lives separate from everyone else. That’s what Cooper loved the most about your neighborhood – no one would be suspicious of him, or know he was there. Seven-foot-tall fencing covered your property; Around the sides and back into the woods. It was private, spacious, and perfect for you. He was happy you took his advice and haggled the price. Though it was only left as a sticky note on your work desk – he convinced you that you wrote it. Cooper hated gaslighting you but, it was the only way for you to get that home. He always felt guilty but, it worked out the way it needed to.

The kitchen light came on in the front of your house, your nurse costume slowly being shed away from the uncomfortable feeling of it. Cooper felt his knuckles tighten around the steering wheel as he watched you, finding his perfect moment to slip out. Your back was pressed against the kitchen counter, looking out into the interior of your home versus outside. A gaggle of college girls dressed as nuns wandered by, causing Cooper to see his opening. Slipping out of his suburban, he put on the SWAT helmet, buckling it right under his chin as he kept his eyes forward, humming to himself to keep him sane. A small smile was present on his lips as the girls stopped for a moment, checking their map location to see if the party was the right way. None of them even acknowledged him as he walked past, keeping his eyes set on your home instead. Coming from the opposite way was a few frat guys dressed as priests, causing Cooper to roll his eyes at the on-the-nose couple outfits. The squeals the girls let out at the guys made his hair stand on end, reminding him too much of the Lady Raven concert last October. The last time he saw Riley, Logan…the last time he could be a dad.

Thinking about his kids made him grow tense, worried – it sucked being away from them, but this was for the best, for now. It wasn’t like he didn’t know how they were doing in school, he kept tabs from miles away. Cooper never wanted to stop being a dad, and he wasn’t going to start that anytime soon. Bringing his phone out of his vest pocket, he brought it up to his ear, mimicking a phone call as he rounded the fence you had up, standing on the left-hand side as he walked into your yard. Silently he thanked you for never replacing your camera out back, or the motion lights for that matter. Having it be this easy for him was a dream come true, plus with your neighbors away – others unable to see him creeping around back, there was no way he wasn’t going to see you now. He tucked his phone away into his pocket once more as your back porch came into view, the stairs on the left side flush to the door. That is when Cooper smirked to himself, chuckling low into the night – seeing the one thing you forgot to do, lock the back door.

In fact, it wasn’t even closed but cracked open the tiniest amount. As a former fire chief, he needed to know these things; If a seal was loose or not flush enough against the grain, it could invite oxygen in, make the fire rage on harder if the door were to be kicked in. Thankfully no fires would be breaking out at your place, not when he made sure they wouldn’t. That itch inside of him was starting to blister, his pupils dilating with the thought of creeping through your home. Cooper was so dead set on watching you tonight through your windows, that he didn’t even consider the option of going inside. With all the clunky gear on though – he was hesitant. He didn’t let that stop him from what he really wanted; You. As his back was crouched under your living room window, he used the edge of the flashlight on his belt to push your door open, the instant smell of nutmeg and cinnamon flooding his senses.

With every inch the door started to open, he grew cautious, knowing at any point he could push it open completely and be met with you. He didn’t think you’d run and tell anyone, that was a fact he was certain of. But he didn’t necessarily know if you’d fight back. A feisty little thing like you wouldn’t surprise him, everyone has their own demons they deal with. To Cooper, more or less he didn’t want to ruin the clean research he has done on you over the last year. When he saw you after escaping police custody that night, he knew you’d turn everything around for him. A giver, a lover, an angel on this Earth – you brought joy wherever you walked, and didn’t tell a soul about your own struggles. He wanted to take that away from you, claim your suffering so you could be happy. He would take everything away from you if it meant you would be happy, safe, and serene in your own life. He didn’t want you to know pain – only joy.

As the back door swung open enough to slide his body through, Cooper stood fully erect. The SWAT gear was a bit much trying to push through the gap, causing a creak to sound. Standing still half in and half out, Cooper pushed through the last bit with a grimace, hoping you didn’t dare to come around that corner. With the layout of your home, as soon as he entered through the back door, he was met with the foyer; Winter boots, coats, and scarves hung from the hook on the wall – the warm light flooding through his body. It caused him to feel nostalgic, those times in the late 80’s to early 90’s growing up; Halloween was such a magical time, full of bright colors and warm flavors, things were good – he could be a good boy if it meant the beatings would stop. “Fuck,” a low whimper came from the opposite side of the wall, causing Cooper to stop in his tracks. He was ever-so-slowly closing the back door, making sure no creaks or groans happened as it was shut, clicking over the lever lock, as well as the two deadbolts. The curtain pulled flush to the glass; No one would see a thing.

Another whimper flowed effortlessly through the air, circling around Cooper in whisps of gold and auburn. He felt his cheeks heating at the anticipation, his toes tingling with excitement. Placing a booted foot across the fresh carpet leading to the living room, Cooper let his head peak out from where he was standing, extending out the smallest of bits to catch a glimpse of you. What he had failed to realize was the position of the living room to the foyer; You could not see him from your position but, he could see you. The couch was pushed under the bay window in the living room, a plethora of plants sat in the sills spot. The arm of the couch was a few inches away from the wall to which he was creeping around, giving him the most beautiful picture he has ever seen. It crossed his mind for a brief moment to take a photo of you like this, but he did not want to break the image set forth. He was enraptured by you, a beautiful creature in a dull world.

On the couch you laid flat, one leg tossed up around the back of the couch whilst the other fell open against the coffee table. Your platform heels were still on your feet; The clean plastic leather heavy contrast with the red bottoms. The nurse’s dress you had on earlier for a costume was pulled up and pushed down around your midsection, baring your breasts for all to see. All the while your left-hand was delicately placed between your thighs, running up and down your slit with a squelch. Your right hand was cupping your breast, toying with your nipple, your entire body shivering from the feeling. “Yes,” breathlessly you moan into the open air, grinding your hips against your hand. The second the pads of your fingers make contact with your clit, you knew you were a goner. The softness of your fingers contrasting with the warmth of your cunt caused you to slip into your own mind, not aware at all of your surroundings; You liked it that way.

Cooper on the other hand couldn’t get enough of you, trying so hard to suppress a moan he threatened to let out. His cock jolted at the moans you were letting out, throbbing harshly behind his black jeans. All it would take is undoing his belt buckle the slightest of bits to relieve some of the pressure, and he couldn’t handle it anymore. Cooper’s eyes never left your face as he peered down at you, his tall stature making everything you were doing abundantly clear. Sneaking around the corner enough to hide his body from you, Cooper undid his belt as quietly as he could, tucking the buckle into his pocket to get it out of the way. A quick flick of his thumb caused his jeans to unbutton, and the zipper to fall down easily. A wave of cold sweats broke out around his body as his skin was to the open air, the breeze cutting through his black briefs.

His gloved hand slid down the front of his briefs, running the padded side down his erect cock. The friction was a delicious burn at first, but it was not going to hold him over. Snaking his fingers between his teeth, Cooper ripped the glove off as fast as he could, shoving his hand back into his underwear and releasing himself. When the heated, erect flesh of his cock met the cool air of your home, he whimpered. Not something he would ever consider himself to do but, you made him weak in the best way possible. His bare thumb pressed against the base of his cock, trying to steady himself. A small bead of cum was pooled at the head, glistening against the firelight. Hearing your scandalizing moans set Cooper on edge, causing him to twitch due to your sweet mewls. He knew he wasn’t going to last very long, a year without any type of contact with another person would do that. Cooper wrapped his thick fingers around the underside of his cock, squeezing in slow increments to get used to the feel again.

He was burning from the inside out, his body up in flames as he watched you – while touching himself. Slowly he slid his meaty hand up the full length of his shaft, pulsating his hand in short doses; He could feel his eyes rolling back at the relief. He never found pleasure in pleasuring himself – it felt like too much work when he could make someone else feel good with him. As his eyes laid upon you sprawled out, pleasuring yourself for anyone to see, he could understand why the self-indulgence of masturbating was intoxicating, why many loved it. For him he felt the tension of the last year start to flow away; Each stroke of his strong hand sent a cascade of pleasure down his spine. He could find himself drowning in it all if he wasn’t careful, but the recklessness in him wanted to paint your face.

Peering down at your half naked form, Cooper gained a steady pace on his cock, finding the right rhythm that worked for him. In tandem with the tight circles of your fingers, he found it erotic that the same ministrations were giving him pleasure as they were you. It felt like you two were connected, not physically but on another level. He could feel his cock stiffening at the thought, his tip a violent shade of purple from all the arousal. He needed to be closer to you, this distance was eating him alive. Cooper was never this careless, he never would’ve made himself known in a situation like this. The smell of your arousal and the thin sheen of sweat on your forehead caused the animal inside of him to peer out, the one that released from him seventeen years ago, the one that put him on the map as a brutal killer. It seemed to have climbed his ribcage, puncturing his lungs, spleen, kidneys as it rose. The feral monster within him gnawing at bone, sawing through muscle and tissue in order to rise higher. Primal grunts and groans were releasing out of Cooper at an alarming rate – he couldn’t hold back much longer. For his legs took him not where he wanted to be, but where he desperately needed. Directly. Over. You.

“C-Cooper!” You moaned out sweetly, bring him back into reality. Cooper’s eyes flared out of their momentary hypnosis to see what he was being met with. Instead of hiding behind the wall of your foyer, watching you touch yourself from afar – Cooper was hovering over your head by the arm of the couch. His glistening cock mere inches away from your face, his eyes as dark as the night. He was fucked out of his mind and you were loving every moment of it. The sight of him so feral, so taken with the sight of your arousal, it was enough to cause your climax to speed up. “Touch me,” you whimpered softly, bringing the hand that was on your breast up to swipe over the wet head of his cock. The cum spattered on your thumb with a simple flick, you did not hesitate to rub it against your bottom lip. Cooper wasn’t even phased that you knew his name, someone who you have never had any contact with, or knew of what he had done – he presumed. But that was just it – it was your job to know everyone in town. To know who your next victim could be.

Cooper’s gloved left-hand didn’t hesitate to grasp at your throat from behind, restricting the blood flow to your brain. The euphoric sensation of pressure building in your head caused your orgasm to crest – a bright burning life of warmth behind your eyes as your fingers worked double time. Your body shivered with each stroke; Long, languid moans seeping out like a broken waterpipe – the flood kept coming and you didn’t want it to end. Watching you get off on your own hand caused Cooper’s climax to ignite. With a few rough thrusts into his hand, Cooper felt his balls pull up into himself – ready to burst at the seams. The animalistic scream he managed to get out was strangled as he gripped at your throat harder, his cock pressed against your forehead. Simply looking up at him was enough to make him cum. You felt like he was mere moments away from ending you where you laid, but you knew he wouldn’t – couldn’t for that matter.

Your name left his lips in a mewl of passion as his cock met its end. A clean shot of his seed cascading down your chin, your breast, and to your clothed stomach. Every bit of cum he was letting out was enough to make you wet again; A man without the touch of a woman, or himself for that matter. Each thrust of himself into his own hand caused thicker shots to flow over your body – you weren’t going to stop him. Instead, you held out your tongue as he kept going, catching some of his salty seed in your mouth. With Cooper’s eyes screwed tightly shut, you brought your wet fingers up to his naked hand, running it along the protruding veins on the back of his hand. That was enough to wake him from his quiet slumber above you, feeling the pressure building harder within your head. As the last of his cum shot out across your tongue, Cooper let his hand around your neck relax, his eyes falling open. The sight below him was a masterpiece, one he wishes he could make last forever. His essence covering your body – a fucked out look on your face. This was his own personal heaven, and he never wanted to come down from it. Your gentle gaze met his blissful one, and he felt his heart stammer. Nothing in this world could compare to your beauty; Distance did not due you justice. As he stands above you, he got to see the real you – he couldn’t get over how gorgeous you truly are.

“Lovely to finally meet you, Mr. Adams,” you huffed with a laugh after swallowing his load, biting your lip as you slowly sat up. It broke Cooper out of his daydream, his cock soft against the waistband of his briefs – still a mouthful even when not erect. Standing at full attention, you glanced down at your body to see the aftermath – feeling a flush growing over your skin at the sight of being covered in him. You could tell it was affecting Cooper as he put his cock back into his briefs, the crotch on his jeans stiffening slightly. “You as well, Miss.” He managed to let out, chuckling as his eyes cascaded down your body. There was something dark within him that he was trying to push down; You didn’t like that. It’s what drew you to him those months ago, made you want to move to this town, to be close to him. You knew who Cooper Adams is, how he was stalking you. You played into every hand of his, wanting him to know you were the good in his world. You two could rule together, be the parents of evil – to let it out instead of holding it in. He is The Butcher, and you are The Baker.

“You’re so beautiful,” Cooper murmured, not wanting to seem out of the ordinary but he needed you to know. Your eyes glanced up over him in his SWAT outfit, feeling the slick between your legs growing once more. His broad shoulders looked so form fitted in the tactical vest. His thick thighs were highlighted by the rugged denim of his jeans. His large feet covered in beat up leather boots – he is the walking embodiment of sex, and you wanted to climb him. Feeling flattered at his words, you started to make your way over to him, watching how the black of his pupils cancelled out the auburn of his irises – showing that Cooper wasn’t fully in control, but the demon inside him was. A lump formed at the back of his throat as the post nut clarity set in, trying to find his words without making a mistake. “I thought you’d be afraid of me, if you knew who I was.” Cooper mumbled, keeping his eyes trained on your carpeted floor, feeling a flush rise upon his cheeks. You felt your lips pull up into a soft smile, showcasing your loving nature. Bringing a hand up to Cooper’s cheek, you gently caressed at the small stubble growing on his chin, his disheveled brown hair in his eyes. Your right hand came up to push the hair out of his face, giving you a good grasp on his locks as you raked your fingers through. Sliding down the back of his head, at the base of his neck you wrapped his hairs around your fingers, tugging at the root with precision. Looking up into his eyes, you let a sinister smirk fall to your lips, your lips a mere few centimeters off of his; “I fear no man.”

If Cooper was right about anything in this world, it was that you were his match. The Butcher and The Baker, wreaking havoc across Philadelphia.

---

General Taglist: @rubyfruitjungle @cherryinterlude @lilly3434 @amethystblackkchaos @rosaleelovesdilfs @babygorewhore @dirtylittlefairytales @redpillbluepill @strangererotica @minedofmoria

Cooper Adams Smut: @exhoism

[the-bitter-ocean]

(ACT 3 SPOILERS) Hi everyone! I Wanted to post writing I did for @tealgoat In tales of time au!! For context it’s set around act 3, where Odile reached the end for the first time with a family run. The art I used in this post is made by teal and you can find the links to those drawings individually over here and here! Writing is under the cut:

< You’re here again. >

< But something feels different. >

< You managed to beat the king like always… but this time..>

< This time you had the courage to call your companions your family. >

< You got to understand all of them a little better and in turn that made you all grow closer. >

< Is that what you needed? Is that the solution to the problem? >

< You didn’t think that helping them would amount to anything much, but the story’s outcome changed a little didn’t it? >

< Even if it was small.. you know how important it is. >

< Your father used to tell you that rereading a story allows you to see details you may have not noticed on a first pass. >

< That it can your change your entire perception of the story itself, even. >

< Is this what you needed all along? >

<Your heart feels warm. >

< He used to read you stories like that all the time. >

< Fairytales about love and friendship saving the world. >

< It gave you comfort then.. and it seems it’s giving you comfort now. >

< You’ve talked to everyone.. they all said different lines then the ones you’re used to.>

< With that logic in mind.. then it should be obvious that the Head Housemaiden should say something different. >

=> < Talk to her. >

=> < Don’t talk to her yet.>

=> < Talk to her.>

< You’ve said everything you needed to say to your companions. >

< It’s time for the moment of truth. >

< You approach the Head Housemaiden and greet her. >

< “Hello!” >

< The head Housemaiden smiles at you and waves. >

((“Hello traveling one! Are you done talking to your companions? Yes, wonderful wonderful-“))

< ….?>

((“ I’d like to thank you for accompanying young Mirabelle on the journey. You have my gratitude.”))

((“ Odile, yes? If there’s anything I can do to thank you, please don’t hesitate to let me know!”))

<….?!>

((“I know you will go back on your travels soon but I do hope-”))

<…>

<…… Ah. >

< Of course. >

((“ Just know that no matter what that Dormont will always be open to you! Please come back any…time….”))

((“…!!!! Oh… oh no no no.. oh nonono-“))

< Ahahaha…!>

< You should’ve expected this. >

< Why would whatever happened before change the story’s ending now? >

< Just because you felt loved and safe? Stupid stupid stupid- you should’ve known better! Why did you decide to rely on how you felt instead of looking at the reality of the situation you’re in? >

< You try to breathe. >

((“ Oh Odile! I’m so sorry..!”))

< It’s fine. It’s just the end again. It’s the same. >

((“ I’m so sorry..there’s no way we can stop it now!” ))

< You’ll just be..>

((“- going back! Back when everything started!”))

< You know her lines by heart, now. >

< If you know what happens next…then you can always know how to react and never be disappointed.>

< You’re fine. >

< You’re…>

<| “…? Odile?” |>

<| “Is everything okay?”|>

< You turn your head and look in Siffrin’s direction. >

< He’s staring right at you. >

< You can’t shift your expression fast enough. >

<| “ Odile what’s wrong- “|>

{“ Head Housemaiden, is something the matter?” }

((“ I cant fix it on my own, not before it all ends… if only I noticed it all sooner!”))

[“Huh? What’s happening? ]

(“ Dile?”)

< You can’t move. >

< You’re frozen. >

{ “Madame, what’s-Urgh!”}

[“ Is something happening? The air around us.. it feels like.. AGH!” ]

(“ My head hurts!!!”)

((“ It’s my fault you have to suffer like this…”))

<| “ODILE!!!”|>

[“ M’DAME!!!”]

< They’re all running, reaching towards you..>

(“ Dile come back! Somethings wrong!!!”)

< You have to move. >

{“ MADAME ODILE!!!!”}

< Maybe you can catch Isabeau’s hand if you reach out to him. >

((“I just hope that one day..”))

< You slowly hold your hand out for him to hold. >

< You take a step forward. >

((“ You could learn to forgive-“))

< And you- >

__________________________________________________________

<You open your eyes, your hand reaching out to nothing. >

< You’re back in the store once more. >

< You grip unto the shelf and take a deep breath. >

< Foolish. >

< You press your fingers against the bridge of your nose and adjust your glasses. >

< You laugh quietly as you can. >

< You truly believed this could work, didn’t you?>

< You really thought helping them all would be the key to your escape! >

< That if you helped them, if you were loved, then surely it had to free you, right? >

< Hahahahaha! >

< That was awfully childish of you! >

< They loved you but it’s not enough to save you! >

< And why would it? When has anything ever been that simple for you? >

< You should know better. >

< Everything was reset back to the beginning. >

< Any character development reversed and undone. As if it never happened at all. >

< Mirabelle is back to feeling out of place because of her identity. >

< Isabeau is still hiding everything about himself, pretending to be something he’s not. >

< Boniface is back to feeling like they’re useless and that they don’t contribute enough to the rest of you. >

< Siffrin won't remember the times you spent together.. back to being scared of you..! >

< And you're back here.. again.. and again .. and again! >

< That's what you get for hoping! That's what you deserve, for being so blinding incompetent and - >

< You slowly look up and glance at the clock. >

< Siffrin will enter the shop soon, won't he? >

<…>

< You need to cut this spiral of yours short then. That’s fine, it’s not like crying ever did you any favors.>

< Focus on the present. >

<The power of friendship didn't work. That’s fine. >

< All you can do is try something else now.>

< You owe it to everyone to keep going. >

< The story isn’t over for you yet. >

| You got a MEMORY OF FAMILY! |

< You'll always remember this. >

| When equipped, Memory of Family doubles everyone's EXP gained in battle, except for yours. |