#but they were all monsters shapeshifted

[raymurata]

My mind is hunting me for sport lol

[acourtofquestions]

"You'll come back," Manon said.

It sounded like more of a threat than anything

Dorian smirked. "Would you miss me if I didn't?"

Manon didn't reply. He didn't know why he expected her to.

He'd taken all of a step, when Asterin clasped his shoulder. "In and out, quick as you can," she warned him. "Take care of Narene." Worry indeed shone in the Second's gold-flecked black eyes. Dorian bowed his head. "With my life," he promised as he approached her mount and grasped the dangling reins. He didn't fail to miss the gratitude that softened Asterin's features. Or that Manon had already turned away from him.

A fool to start down this path with her. He should have known better.

The hours that passed were some of the longest of Manon's existence.

From anticipation, she told herself. Of what she had to do.

Abraxos, unsurprisingly, found them within an hour, his reins sliced from the struggle he'd no doubt waged and won with Sorrel. He waited, however, beside Manon in silence, wholly focused upon the gate where Dorian and Narene had vanished.

Time dripped by. The king's sword was constant weight at her side. She cursed herself for needing to prove-to him, to herself-that she refused to let him go into Morath for practical, ordinary reasons. Erawan wasn't at the Ferian Gap. It'd be safer. Somewhat. But if the Matrons were there … That was why he'd gone. To learn if they were. To see if Petrah truly commanded the host there, and how many Ironteeth were present. He had not been trained as a spy, but he'd grown up in a court where people wielded smiles and clothes like weapons. He knew how to blend in, how to listen. How to make people see what they wished to see. She'd sent Elide into the dungeons of Morath, Darkness damn her. Sending the King of Adarlan into the Ferian Gap was no different.

It didn't stop her breath from escaping when Abraxos stiffened, scanning the sky. As if he heard something they couldn't.

And it was the joy that sparked in her mount's eyes that told her.

Moments later, Narene sailed toward them, making a lazy path over the mountains, a dark-haired, pale-skinned rider atop her. He'd truly been able to change parts of himself. Had made his face nearly unrecognizable. And kept it that way.

Asterin rushed toward the mare, and even Manon blinked as her Second threw her arms around Narene's neck. Holding her tight. The mare only leaned her head against Asterin's back and huffed.

Manon hadn't dwelled long on what she'd say.

And as the three hundred Ironteeth witches filed into the hall, some coming off their patrols, Manon half wondered if she should have. They watched her, watched the Thirteen, with a wary disdain.

Their disgraced Wing Leader; their fallen Heir.

When all were gathered, Petrah, still standing in the doorway where she'd appeared, merely said, "My life debt for an audience, Blackbeak."

Manon swallowed, her tongue as dry as paper. Seated atop Abraxos, she could see every shifting movement in the crowd, the wide eyes or hands gripping swords.

"I will not tell you the particulars of who I am," Manon said at last. "For I think you have already heard them."

"Crochan bitch," someone spat.

Manon set her eyes on the Blackbeaks, stone-faced where the others bristled with hatred. It was for them she spoke, for them she had come here.

jacket, then hoisting up her white shirt. Rising in the stirrups to bare her scarred, brutalized abdomen. "She does not lie."

UNCLEAN

There, the word remained stamped. Would always be stamped.

"How many of you," Asterin called out, "have been similarly branded? By your Matron, by your coven leader? How many of you have had your stillborn witchlings burned before you might hold them?"

The silence that fell now was different from before. Shaking shuddering.

Manon glanced at the Thirteen to find tears in Ghislaine's eyes as she took in the brand on Asterin's womb. Tears in the eyes of all of them, who had not known. And it was for those tears, which Manon had never seen, that she faced the host again.

"You will be killed in this war, or after it. And you will never see our homeland again."

"What is it that you want, Blackbeak?" Petrah asked from the archway.

"Ride with us," Manon breathed. "Fly with us.

Against Morath. Against the people who would keep you from your homeland, your future." Murmuring broke out again. Manon pushed ahead, "An Ironteeth-Crochan alliance. Perhaps one to break our curse at last."

Again, that shuddering silence. Like a storm about to break Asterin sat back in the saddle, but kept her shirt open.

"The choice of how our people's future shall be shaped is yours," Manon told each of the witches assembled, all the Blackbeaks who might fly to war and never return. "But I will tell you this." Her hands shook, and she fisted them on her thighs. "There is a better world out there. And I have seen it."

Even the Thirteen looked toward her now.

"I have seen witch and human and Fae dwell together in peace. And it is not weakness to do so, but a strength. I have met kings and queens whose love for their kingdoms, their peoples, is so great that the self is secondary. Whose love for their people is so strong that even in the face of unthinkable odds, they do the impossible."

Manon lifted her chin. "You are my people. Whether my grandmother decrees it so or not, you are my people, and always will be. But I will fly against you, if need be, to ensure that there is a future for those who cannot fight for it themselves. Too long have we preyed on the weak, relished doing so. It is time that we became better than our foremothers." The words she had given the Thirteen months ago. "There is a better world out there," she said again. "And I will fight for it." She turned Abraxos away, toward the plunge behind them. "Will you?"

Manon nodded to Petrah. Eyes bright, the Heir only nodded back. They would be permitted to leave as they had arrived: unharmed.

So Manon nudged Abraxos, and he leaped into the sky, the Thirteen following suit.

Not a child of war. But of peace.

[cherrysnax]

I had a dream last night about ao oni but instead of the normal kids, it was a bunch of young mutants who slipped away from the x-mansion, and it was rlly weird

[yandere-writer-momo]

Author’s note: I am stuck in a slump so I’m going to write a guilty pleasure of mine… the body swap trope except this time, with a twist. And of course with the one that got away trope. I adore it so very much like black cherry ice-cream.

Yandere Head Canons:

The Husband Swap

Yandere Shapeshifter x Married Fem Elf Reader x Neglectful Drow Husband

TW: yandere content!! Mentions of smut, dubcon, tentacles, monster fucking, size kink, manipulation, voyeurism, oral, and unhealthy relationship.

Art from Veil Manga

You had been married to your husband, Nikolai Sokolov, for many years. An arranged marriage set up amongst your people as a peace treaty… you, a high elf, wed to a drow, dark elf. And Nikolai was often cold to you… despite how often you attempted to bond with him.

Nikolai refused to eat any of the food you made and he constantly brushed aside your attempts to get to know him. He cared little for this arranged relationship and treated you as if you were some mere commoner, a fact that only made your heart sting.

Nikolai would occasionally share a bed with you, but it was often out of fulfilling his needs. He cared little for your pleasure and only cared to satiate his own.

One day, Nikolai bought you a servant just to get you to leave him alone (outside of sex). A shapeshifter.

A magic collar was bound tightly around their silver neck as a preventative to their ability to shift. They were now powerless and subservient. A trait that most shapeshifters didn’t have since they were quite sly by nature. You wondered what this creature had done to have been reduced to a servant…

Their name was Lev Snegur and they were close in age to you and Nikolai. The shapeshifter was somewhat masculine looking with sharp features and pitch black eyes. A genderless species that never uttered a sound, what wonderful company to have.

You often tried to engage in small talk with them, but they remained as silent as the depth of night. Not a peep left their lips to ever give you input. It unnerved you.

You were very sweet to them and even offered to share meals, but they only stared at you. Talking to Lev was like talking to a brick wall that nodded at times. Lev was an incredibly good listener.

Lev’s company did little to satiate the ache in your heart and the all consuming loneliness. You were so isolated in this empty home filled with bitterness. And you started to accept that you’d never find any warmth with him. Nor would you find solace in your silent servant’s company.

Occasionally you’d wake up covered in a slight sweat, a puddle of dampness below you. The room would always feel of sex, yet you hardly had any of that… but you were always a bit sore between your legs when you’d wake up on mornings like this. Had you been having wet dreams due to your consistent loneliness? Or was there something foul at play?

So it was a surprise when Nikolai bounced into your room like a puppy one morning. His arms wrapped around your side while he inhaled your scent. What on earth was he doing?

“Nikolai?” Nikolai placed a finger on your lips, a mischievous look in his crimson eyes.

“Shh, I have a surprise for you!” Nikolai gave you a bright grin that made you do a double take. You’ve never seen your grumpy husband smile in his entire life. This had to be a dream… you gave yourself a pinch and hissed at the pain you inflicted on your poor arm. Nope. Not a dream.

Nikolai lead you out of the room to where a grand meal was set before you consisting of all of your favorite delicacies. You had no idea your husband even knew you adored such food…

“Do you like it?” His face was hopeful as he took your hand in his. “I’ve come to a realization that you genuinely care for me… so I will treat you better.”

And from that day forth, Nikolai was more attentive than he ever had been. He insisted you should move into his room and he often cuddled with you… it was so odd. This entire situation was bizarre, almost as if this was another person and not your husband.

It was when Nikolai went down on you for the first time that your mind truly began to believe he was another man. When did he learn how to please you and why did he eat you out like a man starved? This wasn’t your husband… this was an imposter.

When ‘Nikolai’ made love to you, he felt bigger. You swore he was nearly two to three inches than he used to be, which made your stomach protrude like you had a baby bump. And his hands ardently grasped at every bit of your body as he could.

It wasn’t too uncommon for you to find your husband sniffing your hair like some sort of animal. You were so scared…

The longer you spent time with ‘Nikolai,’ the more paranoid you became. There were less and less drows around now and your servant was missing… you were starting to become afraid.

But you never were able to get much time to think about it too much since ‘Nikolai’ was always dutifully by your side. There was never any time to ask questions… until tonight. You decided to ask him… for you feared you’d fall off the deep end into insanity if you didn’t.

“Where’s Lev?” You softly asked Nikolai whose fingers paused their dance over your scalp. His crimson eyes glanced over to your face.

“And why do you care so much about a shifter when your husband is here?” Nikolai asked in a bitter tone, but you could see a bit of excitement in his eye. And it made your heart pulse in your brain.

“Well, I miss Lev.” You softly whispered. It wasn’t a complete lie. You did miss your servant who always listened to you, but you preferred his silent company over the overbearing presence of your changed husband.

“Hmm… well, we can go see him if you’d like.” Nikolai rose up from the bed and wrapped a black robe over his bare chest. “He’s in the dungeon.”

You were a bit shocked by your husband’s words. “What do you mean? Lev never did anything wrong-“

“My wife is too kind for her own good.” Nikolai held your chin to pause you from rambling on even more. His eyes were filled with so much emotion, it froze you in place. “It’s what I love most about you.”

You gulped and averted your gaze, your cheeks felt hot.

Lev lead you down the hallway and down the winding stairs to the dungeon, his hand gently held yours. You felt dread creep up into your stomach the closer you went to the dingy dungeon. Your nerves felt as if they were on fire…

And the sight before you terrified you to your core, the angled corpse of Nikolai laid sprawled out on the brick flooring. His lifeless eyes turned toward the door and his mouth agape in a horrific scream forever frozen on his rotting face.

You tried to flee but your ‘Nikolai’ began to shift, slender hands now held you firmly in place while your captor’s face slowly morphed into the bewitching creature named Lev.

“It didn’t take much to overpower him. Your husband was too cocky to notice I figured out how to disarm the collar.” Lev’s voice made your blood run cold from how raspy it was. His voice low and monotonous despite the various emotions that hid beneath the surface of his eyes. “To whack him over the back of the head with a sword hilt and drag him down here. It was child’s play really.”

“Are you going to kill me too?” You whimpered when his grip tightened around your arms. His face filled with concern.

“Kill you? Nonsense, I’d never kill my wife!” Lev began to pepper your face with numerous kisses while his arms snaked around your waist. “I mean it when I say I love you, I love you more than that bastard ever could.”

You try to protest, but you feel something slimy wrap around your legs and give them a squeeze. Your eyes are wide in terror at the black tendrils that snaked around your plush thighs. What on earth?!

“And I can certainly fuck you better than he ever could… I can show you things no other monster could ever show you, so won’t you indulge me? I promise I’ll blow your mind.”

[ozzgin]

Santa baby are you really there?!

*hears a voice in my backyard*

FUCK SKIN WALKER

- you make Yan skinwalker i’ll do anything to get a skin walker to love me … yes I am 100% mentally stable

I'm not sure if you had something horror-esque in mind, because my immediate idea was Reader accidentally getting cursed and continuing her life completely unaware with a ""dog"" everyone is freaked out by, but she finds it cute. So more like dark comedy vibes. You be the judge. :D

Disclaimer: I have changed the name to Shapeshifter as to not delve into potentially offensive takes on native folklore. Thank you for informing my European ass.

Yandere!Monster x Reader [Shapeshifter]

On your last hiking trip, you've stumbled upon a helpless, lost dog. Or rather, it stalked you down to your cabin and spent the night in front of your window. You didn't have the heart to abandon the poor soul and so you brought it home with you. Strange things have been happening ever since and no one knows how to tell you that the monstrous coyote-like creature might be to blame. You're oblivious to everything.

Content: female reader, dark comedy, monster romance, reader is cursed and proud

It wasn't your intention to return home with a new pet. Some might say it was written in the stars, this fateful encounter of yours. You had finished packing your supplies for a day-long hike, vehemently refusing to join your group of friends that would be guided around by a native. They’d warned you many areas of the mountainous forest were supposedly cursed or haunted, so you just scribbled the limits on your makeshift map and promised to stay on the main trails. After all, this was your chance to commune with nature. As the sun begun to set, you wondered if going by yourself was indeed a smart idea, given your lack of spatial awareness and difficulty to navigate maps. You flipped the piece of paper several times, deep in contemplation. Could it be that you’ve reached the forbidden lands? You quickly surveyed the area: based on the stuffed rag dolls hanging from old branches, and the animal skulls arranged in patterns among patches of burnt grass, it was very much a possibility. Perhaps the improvised slab that said “Stay away” in dripping crimson letters should’ve been enough of a warning, but you assumed they’d just been creative with trail markers.

You didn’t have the time to panic. Just as you were furrowing your eyebrows in a final attempt to decipher the map (at the time upside-down), your ears picked up a faint shuffle of leaves. Further away stood a dog, its glossy eyes fixated on your form. A lost puppy? It seemed to be on the larger side, but then again some breeds grow rather fast. You lowered yourself and patted your knees, whispering diminutives in an effort to call the animal over. It remained in place, staring quietly. Alright, then. You focused on finding your way back instead. Every now and then you'd turn back and see the dog, motionlessly eyeing you at a constant distance. Oh, dear. Was it lost? Frightening affair.

Back at the cabin you told the others about your discovery, with a hint of worry in your voice. You hoped the little pup had found proper shelter. You'd expected a similar reaction coming from your friends, but one of them suggested: "What if it was some shapeshifting monster? There's many legends and stories from the area." Everyone laughed and you joined hesitantly, mildly annoyed by the lack of empathy. That night you barely slept, twisting and turning under the heavy feeling of being watched. You woke up tired and nervous, dragging your feet towards the window for some fresh air. That's when you saw the same forest creature, fully awake and tall in its glory, positioned before your room. This was no coincidence. You had been plagued by the guilt of abandoning a vulnerable quadruped and you weren't about to continue as a passive observer. You strode out without a word and lifted the large dog with a huff, carrying it back in to figure out the transport logistics.

Thus started the unexpected companionship. To you, it's a lovely tale of two lost souls finding one another. Most people seem to disagree. Can you blame them? The rescued puppy you often speak of is, in the eyes of everyone else, a monstrous beast by all definitions. It resembles a coyote more than a dog, but even this description is too gentle. The fur is always raised threateningly and the protruding clusters of fangs remind one of the anatomical anomalies displayed in museums. The eyes, oh, the worst of all perhaps, bottomless depths that pull you in until you run out of air. The creature stares with the all-knowing gaze of a human. "Don't be rude", you snap at whoever dares to point these details out. "It must be a mixed breed or something."

Their persistence is truly ridiculous. You've even had guests run out in panic, claiming the dog stood on its back legs and whispered in a language unknown. Or that its shadow would morph into a grotesque man with claws and crooked antlers. Or that they've found it hunched over your sleeping form, its spine twisted outwards with jagged peaks breaking through the wild fur. Rubbish, all of it.

Strange things have been happening, no doubt, but your adopted fur-child has no blame to carry. You've been trying to distract yourself, going on dates and occasionally bringing potential suitors over. They all vanish overnight, nonchalantly leaving an empty, ruffled bed for you to wake up to. "Am I just unlucky?" You sigh, running your fingers through the coarse fur of your dog. It lowers itself under your touch, visibly enjoying the affection. For a split second, it glances out the window. By the time you come out of your depressed slump, the birds should've finished feeding on the remains. He made sure to tear and grind everything fine enough to not leave any marks behind.

That's how curses work, after all. He didn't expect, however, that you'd be utterly unaware of it. He has to give you the credit, not many people become stalked by an ancient curse and continue their life in blissful ignorance. Even more, for them to just casually pick up the haunting entity and bring it inside their home willingly...You're, uh, certainly a special one. Hence the change of plans. He was supposed to torment you into an early grave, but he's grown rather attached to your bizarre antics. And you do provide some damn good chin scratches. He's therefore satisfied with causing anguish and destruction to anything and anyone in your immediate vicinity instead. Since you've been complaining about the resulting isolation...

You wake up with a gasp, wiping your drenched forehead and checking the sheets. The dog is curled next to you, although its head is now tilted in your direction. "O-oh. It might be the loneliness talking...but I had the strangest dream." How troubling and embarrassing. Your beloved pet had turned into a deformed, monstrous man instead, pinning you down and hungrily grazing your skin with his sharp teeth. Your fearful protests eventually turned into shameless moans, your frail body at the mercy of the mysterious beast. It unfolded so vividly that your core feels sore. You stretch a sheepish hand towards your pet and abruptly stop halfway, noticing the marks diffused into your wrist, like violet smudges of watercolor. What the hell did you do last night?

The dog buries its head under the sheets and nuzzles its snout into your soft flesh. Heh. How many more disappearing guests will be needed for you to figure out your situation? He does find your obliviousness terribly amusing, as well as your willingness to clutch onto him despite his unsightly appearance. He was feeling particularly cheeky and thought of giving you a little scare, only to be once again taken aback by your neediness. He has to wonder who exactly is trapped in this situation, because your reactions to everything he does are frighteningly tempting. Maybe tonight he'll finally let you know, just as you're about to come undone beneath his heaving body. Something like, hmmm. "By the way, love, this isn't a dream." He could even add a little "woof" to tease you more.

[thesummerestsolstice]

Notes on Keeping the Children Alive, by Maedhros Feanorian

One of them tried to bite me yesterday. A spirited effort, but doomed to failure. I will teach them how to do it better– their teeth are certainly sharp enough for it.

Woke up with flowers growing through the crack in my bedroom window. I suspect this is their doing. They are not very good liars.

Letting them climb on me has proved an effective bribe for good behavior.

They appear to like being tall. (possibly related to being descended from Turgon and Thingol??)

They stopped being afraid of me faster than most adults. Am I losing my touch???

Disregard previous note. Eldritch monsters recognize each other.

Am teaching them how to make the most of their shapeshifting abilities for political intimidation. They are shaping up to be menaces. Good.

Twins are old enough to begin swordfighting, and clearly eager, regardless of what Maglor says.

I have taught the children to argue with Maglor. I am certain they will eventually wear him down.

Gave the children more blankets so they would stop using my cloak as a blanket. New blankets have been resolutely ignored.

I am sure they'll stop commandeering my coat if I ask them.

I have decided not to ask them. (They are very cute when they are asleep)

Children are now attempting to negotiate their way out of bedtime.

Small animals appear to like the children. Especially birds.

They found a kitten in the stables yesterday. They would like to keep it.

Teaching the children to argue may have been an error.

Children asked whether it was possible to have three fathers. I am uncertain why. (Thingol homophobic??)

One of the children called me "Atar" today. Definitely did not cry about it. Not even a little bit.

It appears the children were asking about three fathers because they would like to be adopted.

I informed them that two fathers was the limit, but that Maglor could be their second mother, if they like.

Kano was too stunned at being acknowledged as the children's parent to correct them about calling him "Amme." Another successful plan.

(Kano, if you're reading this, then yes, this is payback for referring to me as a "brooding drama queen" for patrolling Himring's walls, in a very un-dramatic way, like a normal, responsible lord)

(Also, you of all people do not get to criticize me for being dramatic)

The children's Quenya is finally good enough for them to start reading higher level diplomacy treatises. I couldn't be prouder.

The children have never done anything wrong, ever, in their lives. I know this and I love them.

[irisintheafterglow]

a kaiju attack spoils date night with bf!hoshina. he is so pissed.

cw: canon-typical violence, swearing, mild angst/fluff, happy surprise ending

"is it just me, or does the vice-captain seem angrier than usual?"

"maybe he's just fired up. there's a lot of yoju for him to take care of," iharu observes, scanning the emptied streets from the rooftop of an evacuated office building.

"you idiots really don't pay attention at all, do you?" shinomiya mumbles under her breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. the rest of the officers with her stare at her blankly. "it's thursday, geniuses."

"is there something special about kaiju appearances and days of the week?"

"not that i've heard of," kafka states, scratching his head with a finger. "did new research come out?"

"maybe it's because of the full moon," haruichi says and the other men look up at its soft shining light, nodding in understanding.

"that makes a lot of sense."

"but why would that make the vice-captain angry?"

"maybe he's a werewolf," iharu whispers with sincere worry. "maybe kafka's not the only shapeshifter in our division."

"it's date night, you meatheads! the vice-captain's supposed to be off-base and relaxing," shinomiya explains impatiently like it was written on the floors in fluorescent paint. "he's probably angry that the attack came right when he usually picks up..."

"picks up who?" the officers stiffen and quickly fall into perfect lines. you smile at their professionalism and try not to laugh at how quickly they changed their gossiping demeanors. "you know, officers, you should be careful about what you say in regards to the vice-captain."

"our deepest apologies, platoon leader," kaguragi monotoned, ever the perfect soldier.

"at ease," you command them. "you have nothing to apologize for. i'm simply warning you of what might have happened had it not been me passing by."

"understood, platoon leader," izumo confirms. "if we may," he continues slowly and you can see the rest of the officers eyeing him warily. "were we...correct in our assumption as to the reason for the vice-captain's mood?"

"the werewolf assumption or the assumption that only shinomiya was correct about?" everyone but shinomiya reddens, looking down sheepishly at the toes of their suits. the axe-wielder straightens her shoulders with a proud glint in her eyes. "to answer your question, it would be the latter," you answer with a poorly-hidden smirk. "he'd barely knocked on my door when the alarm sounded."

"oh, i bet the vice-cap was seething."

"he definitely was," you confirm, recalling the colorful curses he uttered as you both begrudgingly shed your nicer clothes for your combat suits. i was supposed to take off your clothes under different circumstances, he'd lamented. don't go thinking our night is canceled because of this. i'll finish them off quickly for you.

your relationship with hoshina was no secret, considering that he talked about you whenever he was given the chance. every kdf member on base knew you preferred to keep your romantic life as private as possible to avoid questions of power dynamics from higher-ranking officials. hoshina, however, either didn't listen or didn't seem to care. he happily declared thursday nights to be date nights, threatening intense punishment for the officers below him if they caused trouble while he was gone. a static-filled message from the scouting teams sounds in your earpiece and you dismiss the officers, moving to join the vice-captain at the front line.

judging by the slowly increasing trail of dead monsters covering the asphalt, you find hoshina easily as he cuts a clean slice through a fast-moving yoju. you change the frequency on your earpiece so that you're directly connected to his.

"someone's been busy," you remark, pulling the batons from your back and electrifying them with the switch by your thumb. they hum in your hands, electric blue lightning crackling in sync with the released power of your suit. "save some for me, would you?"

"any other day, i would," he replies and you hear him smile despite his annoyance. "but it took me three months to get those reservations, so i wanna finish this up quickly." another yoju falls, your boyfriend a phantom blur in the darkness.

"are you calling me slow?" your hand plants itself on your hip as you continue to watch him cut down enemies, barely moving from your place between the dead kaiju. "i can't believe my boyfriend thinks i'm slow. here i thought you were my biggest supporter."

"that's not what i said," he huffs, the slightest waver in his exhale the only evidence of exertion. "i'm just faster." he pauses for half a second to catch his breath, and you snag your chance to overtake him.

"hmm, i think i'll take over for a second, then." launching yourself from the ground, your feet run perpendicular against the wall of a crumbling building as you close the distance. you can feel hoshina's attention on you while you dodge the yoju's swinging limbs and sink your batons into the skin covering its core, electricity surging through its body as it falls with a loud thud. "how's that, mister i'm just faster?"

"cute," he admits, offering you a hand as you hop down from the monster's head. you're shoulder to shoulder facing opposite directions and catch the challenge in his eyes as you look at him over your shoulder. "but i know you can go harder."

"go your fastest then, soshiro," you dare. his throat bobs as he swallows thickly, a subtle sign that you'd thrown him off. "i'll do my best to keep up."

---

"so, this is not how i wanted date night to end up," he says through a mouth full of noodles, slurping them loudly from the bowl on your living room coffee table. "and i'm sorry we couldn't go to that fancy place."

"to be fair, the website didn't exactly update its hours immediately," you remind him. "how were we supposed to know the place got demolished in the attack?"

"true, but i made you get all dressed up for nothing," he grumbles, accidentally dropping a vegetable and splashing broth onto his face. "ow." you snort against your spoon, setting it down in your bowl and swiping over the corner of soshiro's mouth with a napkin. "this was my favorite shirt, too. worst date night ever."

"good thing there's this place called the cleaners, babe." he continues to frown despite your unending patience, letting you clean him up while he indulges in staring at you in your nice clothes. you could make anything look pretty, he thinks, staring unashamedly at you wrapped up in a blanket and covering your going-out clothes. "hey," you murmur, gently grabbing his chin and turning him to face you. "i don't mind."

"you don't mind what?"

"this kind of date night."

"but we could do this anytime," he mumbles, avoiding your eyes. you shake your head, pushing away your food and climbing into his lap, your legs on either side of his hips.

"no, we can't. we don't know how many times we get this in our line of work," you point out with an ache in your chest and he finally blinks up to look at you. "so i'm grateful for any time i get to spend with you, soshiro." his throat bobs again, but he manages to give you a small smile.

"you're too good for me, you know that?"

"if you say so," you shrug, leaning down until your lips barely brush his.

"but, you know," he murmurs and you pull back, staring into his starry eyes. "there's not a lot of nights," he inhales, reaching behind him to grab something from under the couch's throw pillow, "where i get to pull this move."

"what're you--ohmygod." he smirks at you as you blink down at the small box sitting in his hand, covered in crushed velvet and embroidered with gold. "that's-you didn't..."

"i did," he whispers, memorizing every inch of your shocked expression. "so," he pushes open the top half of the box with his thumb to reveal something that sparkles even in the dim lights of your apartment, "please--"

"yes!" you scream before he can finish his sentence, your excitement echoing off the walls as you both break out into wide grins. "holy shit, yes!"

"baby, i didn't even ask the whole question," he chuckles, giving in and slipping the ring on your finger. "what if that wasn't the question i was gonna ask?"

"i'd skewer your head with my batons," you smile sweetly and he hums, admiring the jeweled band in the light. "that was the question you were gonna ask, right?"

"of course, sweetheart," he assures you, finally leaning up to press his lips against yours. "you're the only one i'll ever let keep up with me."

"you gonna marry me, hoshina soshiro?"

"i'm gonna marry you so hard, the entire base will know." you fondly remember your conversation with the officers earlier in the night.

"darling, i think they already know."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! commissions and nsfw requests can be sent through my fiverr! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[strangestcase]

🥩 thing82 Follow

Don’t you think I’ve forgotten about how thourghly tomblr turned against shapeshifters 2014-2017.

🥩 thing82 Follow

“If you can take a complete human form you’re not a monster because you can pass as human” was a popular take. All the debate wether or not werebeasts and vampires with shifting abilities counted as shapeshifters (they do? WTF?) because the word was so fucking tainted. All the fucking “jokes” about in-between forms being ugly or ungraceful. How even TALKING about shapeshifting in a neutral light was seen as “proof” you were a traitor or something. “Humans don’t hate shapeshifters because they look like them” come the fuck on!

🪱 labilebones Follow

For real it was insidious. It was unreal watching all the funnymonsters drop the gig and say it was “pointless” yeah it was . For you. I got suicide baited and sent pictures of fire and freezers.

🐦‍⬛ shifter-shifter Follow

And then they moved on to picking on constructs again.

🫁 burstchester Follow

Lmao it always goes back to picking on constructs doesn’t it. Like wtf did they do

🐦‍⬛ shifter-shifter Follow

Be built, apparently

[madwomansapologist]

──────〃✰ kinktober 2024 ୨ৎ

welcome to my first kinktober! bellow you'll find prompts i've come up with + one that was commented on a post i made about this very same subject.

if you want to be tagged, tell me! i update this post everytime i finish one of the prompts with some details.

୨ৎ WEEK 1: LET'S PLAY PRETEND ୨ৎ

OCT 1ST strip poker with sir crocodile

title: poker face synopsis: luckily, mr. zero didn't knew you were a mugiwara. luckily, mr. zero fell for your bluffs. unfortunately, you never imagined it would be that hard to not fall for crocodile's charm. [3.1K] cw: mugiwara!fem!reader, strip poker, strip tease, public sex, cock crush, nipple stimulation, size difference, fingering (f!receiving), riding, biting, scratching, finger sucking, p in v, creampie, possessive behavior, mob boss meets a baddie, pussy so good he wonders about marriage.

OCT 3TH somnophilia with kento nanami

title: sweet dreams synopsis: watching the man you love deny himself of his needs, you take matters into your own hands. or lips, to be more precise. [1.5K] cw: established relationship, service top!reader, somnophilia, body worship, nipple stimulation, masturbation (m!receiving), oral (m!receiving), choking (gn!receiving), hair pulling, overstimulation.

OCT 5TH incest with karlach

title: a small favor synopsis: a movie night turned into you being a good girl for your older sister. if only she had warned you of what it truly meant. [1.1K] cw: t!karlach, plus size!reader, incest, lil sis/big sis, dub con, gaslighting, obssessive behavior, apologetic, spit, dry humping, pussyjob, premature ejaculation.

୨ৎ WEEK 2: MONSTERS AND LESBIANS DESERVE LOVE TOO ୨ৎ

OCT 6TH monster fucking with multiple monsters

title: haunted bang synopsis: when you decided to explored a haunted mansion, all you wanted was to gain more knowledge for your grimoire. you never expected it to be habited, even less for all the residents to agree that sharing is caring. [2.4K] cw: wizard!reader, teratophilia, monster fucking, gangbang, voyeurism, size difference, manhandling, mind connection, scent kink, oral (females!receiving), pet play, pussy drunk, overstimulation, you know that post about "would you fuck your clone?", f in v, monsters included are a eldritch creature, a werewolf, a vampire and a shapeshifter.

OCT 8TH shower sex with namivivi

title: let it sink in synopsis: the fight was over, the war was done, but the tension was still there. watching the princess falling victim of her own mind, the navigator has to intervene. [1K] cw: established relationship, insecurity, a bit of hurt and a lot of comfort, this isn't sex it's love okay i'm sensitive about them, shower sex, masturbation.

OCT 10TH scent kink with farcille

title: animal attraction synopsis: back from the dead, falin could feel something changing inside of her. but with marcille's scent blinding her mind, she ignored the dragon and focused on the warmth coming from her friend. [0.8K] cw: the night pre-chimera, scent kink (in a dragon’s mate way), nipple stimulation, a tiny small bit of somnophilia, erotic dreams, public sex.

OCT 12TH masturbation with nico robin

title: a helping hand synopsis: there is an aspect of sailing in the grand line you failed to consider: there is no one to fuck. of course, that's only true if you ignore your crew as candidates. [0.5K] cw: sorry for the delay! reader has a little crush on luffy, masturbation, accidental orgasm denial, accidental/non-accidental voyeurism.

୨ৎ WEEK 3: REWARD SYSTEM ୨ৎ

OCT 13TH praise kink with kagaya x reader x amane

title: pretty, pretty, pretty synopsis: back from a mission, is time to remember your lovers you will always be there to take care of their every needs and desires. [1.1K] cw: sorry for the delay! established relationship, kagaya x reader x amane, dom!fem!reader, praise kink, voyeurism, masturbation (f! and m! receiving), body worship, oral (m!receiving).

OCT 15TH bondage with dark justiciar shadowheart

title: sing your prayers synopsis: to worship lady shar, one must be perfect. shadowheart will guide you, make you the best you can ever be. don't matter the cost, her teachings shall find a way into your very soul. [1K] cw: fem!reader, bard!tav, domme!shadowheart, power imbalance, memory loss, bondage, humilliation kink, temperature play, gaslighting, dacryphilia, religious imagery, Shar vs Selune.

OCT 17TH corruption kink with shan yu

title: training session synopsis: you're tired of being treated like a glass about to be shattered. if he will have you whole, than it's only fair you receive the same. [1.3K] cw: established relationship, corruption kink, finger sucking, masturbation (m!receiving), oral (m!receiving), cum eating.

୨ৎ WEEK 4: ANIME SEASON ୨ৎ

OCT 24TH sex pollen with kyojuro rengoku

title: milk me synopsis: usually demons' poisons just kill whoever was affected by them. this time, it served for something else. something way better. [2.1K] cw: established relationship, eye patch!kyojuro, crystal hashira!reader, sex pollen, public sex, pussy drunk, forced orgasms, overstimulation, oral (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), p in v, dacryphilia, spit, nipple stimulation, accidental voyeurism (we'll say: sorry miss shinobu).

୨ৎ WEEK 5: LOVE, LOVE, LOVE ୨ৎ

OCT 27TH exhibitionism kink with ryomen sukuna

title: mine synopsis: watching the man you love deny himself of his needs, you take matters into your own hands. or lips, to be more precise. [0.5K] cw: established relationship, toxic couple (only towards others), exhibitionism, public sex, cockwarming.

taglist: @ffinosie @lovelyy-moonlight @alzaira @s2-angells @eyes-ofhell @inlovewithmariah @chiiyohiimee @shaquilles-0atmeal @bloodyziggy @salemey @kcch-ns @notanalienindisguiseblink @py-schi @miyanosm @idonthaveanameforthisacc

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[fatecantstopme]

Not Good Enough

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader

Summary: You overhear Dean say some hurtful things about you to Sam and decide you need to change, much to Dean's dismay.

Warnings: cursing, mutual pining, mentions of violence, body issues/esteem issues, past trauma, illusions to eating disorders and sexual assault. SMUT, oral (M and F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V), dom/sub vibes, dirty talk.

You didn't like to think about your life before the Winchesters. Most of the time, it was easier to pretend you didn't have a past--no dark and morbid history to share, no pain and trauma still lingering deep within you.

Sam and Dean were the only ones you'd felt comfortable opening up to, and even that took years. Life had not been kind to you, and the scars on your body and in your mind were the proof.

Eight years ago, your hellish life took a turn for the better, but only after you almost lost it. You'd been walking home after a late night filled with bad decisions, when you were attacked. The man was fast, vicious, and cruel--taking what he wanted from you and leaving you for dead.

As fate would have it, the Winchester brothers were in town hunting a nest of vampires, and had been prowling around downtown waiting for one to make an appearance.

It was Dean who heard your screams, your cries for help, your sobs. It was Dean who came running into the dark alleyway without a thought for his own well-being. It was Dean who dropped to his knees beside your beaten and broken body...who took his jacket off and draped it over you to cover your mostly exposed form. It was Dean who gently scooped you into his arms and carried you to his car...and it was Dean that stood beside your hospital bed until you opened your eyes again.

Sam had eventually tracked down the man who had attacked you. It turned out, he had attacked several other women in the downtown area over the previous few months. Dean had been surprised to discover the man was just that--a man. Not a shapeshifter, a ghoul, a demon...not a vampire or a werewolf...just a man. His status as a human did not, however, make him any more safe from your avenging savior.

You'd never asked Dean exactly what had happened to your attacker, and he'd never talked about it. All you knew was he would never hurt anyone ever again.

It was unlike Dean to trust a stranger, and certainly out of character for him to confide in one, but there was something about you that seemed to draw him in. He felt as if he'd found a kindred spirit in you, someone who could understand him in a way even his brother couldn't.

Once you were on the mend, Dean made you an offer--one you were thankful you didn't refuse. You joined the brothers on their adventures--saving people, hunting things, the whole nine yards.

Overtime, you had become an integral part of their small family unit. Either brother would have died for you and you for them. There had been more than one close call for each of you over the past eight years, and more than one monster brutally slain to protect you.

You were closer in age to Sam, only a year younger than him, but Dean had always been the one you were closer to. Just as Dean had seen a kindred spirit in you, you had seen one in him. He understood you, he respected you, and he cared about you more deeply than anyone in your life ever had.

In the long years you'd spent in their constant company, you'd begun to change. The darkness that lived inside you seemed to fade, as if being near the Winchesters brought a light into your life you didn't know you needed. The mental scars you'd carried began to heal, even if the ones on your skin would always be visible.

There were still days where the darkness would rise within you, dark thoughts rolling through your mind, bringing you to your knees with a pain you could never describe. There were days when you would look in the mirror and hate the reflection gazing back at you--seeing the girl you had once been instead of the woman you now were.

There were moments when you'd forget all the progress you'd made, mind focusing instead on all of your flaws, all of your failures. The worst part was many of them lived only in your mind--you knew no one but you could see them, but that didn't make them any less real to you.

Lately, you had been struggling with self-esteem issues you'd long since buried. You'd thought you'd come to terms with who you were and what you looked like--accepted the body you had. Weight had been a struggle for you your entire life, and for a long time, you turned to terrible habits in order to lose weight and attempt to keep it off.

Those habits had ended eight years ago, but the issues they'd covered did not. Today was one of the bad days. One of the days you stared in the mirror and hated the image you saw--the softness, the curves, the fat. That was the word that kept repeating in your mind, fat, fat, fat.

You tried desperately to block it out, to remember why you loved your body just as it was, but those thoughts wouldn't leave you alone. The darkness inside you was too much to battle, the pain of hating yourself too much to cope with.

You'd been thankful for the bunker the day the three of you had discovered it, but you were even more grateful on days like today. Days you wanted to spend holed up in your room, refusing to face the outside world.

As much as you wanted to lay in bed for the entire day, your grumbling stomach soon became too much to ignore. You knew you needed to eat--there could be no more starving yourself, no more binging and purging--you needed to eat.

You dragged yourself out of bed and tugged on a pair of sweatpants before cautiously opening your bedroom door. You listened for the sounds of either brother moving around. Upon hearing none, you made your way slowly towards the kitchen, intent on making yourself a sandwich and retreating to the safety of your room.

Just before you rounded the corner to head into the kitchen, you heard Dean's low voice rumbling from inside. You froze in place, pressing yourself against the wall, not wanting to be seen or heard. You fully intended to creep back to your room--you really did--but the sound of your name leaving Dean's lips held you in place.

"(Y/N)'s not strong enough," Dean hissed. You could tell by the tone of his voice he was angry, very angry.

"Oh come on," Sam snapped. "She's been doing this for eight years. She's more than capable."

"Are you insane? I mean, really and truly crazy? She'll get herself killed!" Dean's voice had risen in volume and you heard Sam shush him quietly.

"Don't wake her up," Sam chided.

You heard Dean's annoyed sigh and your eyes fluttered closed for a moment. You knew what they were fighting about. You and Sam had a conversation a couple days ago about you hunting on your own. You'd asked for his thoughts and Sam had been honest and supportive. He said you were more than capable of hunting on your own, should he or Dean not be available to go with you. Your hunting skills were certainly not on their level, but if the case was simple enough, you would be fine.

Clearly Dean did not agree with his brother's assessment of your abilities. "She's not strong enough, or fast enough, or physically prepared to hunt on her own. She's just not, okay? She's different from us...she's not built like we are."

"Do you even hear yourself?" Sam asked incredulously.

You bit your lip to keep from whimpering aloud, Dean's words having cut straight through you like a hot knife. You blinked back your tears as you moved as quickly as possible back to your room without making noise.

Dean's words repeated on a loop inside your head, echoing your own darkest thoughts about yourself. Even Dean thought you were too fat, too weak, too useless to do anything on your own. You realized he likely only allowed you to hunt with him because he felt sorry for you--a pitying friendship you didn't ask for.

Despite the irrationality of your thoughts, you could not escape them. You couldn't fight them off, either because you didn't have the strength or because you were afraid they were right. Your mind once again played tricks on you, dragging you down into the darkness--but this time you succumbed, allowing your own tears to drag you into a nightmare fueled sleep.

Unbeknownst to you, Sam and Dean's conversation had continued in the kitchen. Neither of them had noticed your presence, both too upset with the other to focus on anything else.

"Look, (Y/N) is my best friend. Other than you, she's my favorite person...hell, I like her more than you sometimes," Dean confessed. "I just--I don't want to lose her. If we let her go out there without backup and something happens to her, I'll never forgive myself. I'd rather her never hunt at all, but I think she'd kill me if I told her to sit out on a fight just because I'm terrified of her dying."

Sam was quiet for a moment as he regarded his brother. Dean was not known for his vulnerability, nor for sharing any of his deeper emotions, but Sam could see something simmering just beneath the surface--some emotion beyond rage and fear lurked in his brother's green eyes.

"What are you really saying, Dean?" Sam asked quietly.

Dean looked at the floor for a long moment before answering. "When we met (Y/N), I was instantly drawn to her--like a moth to flame. I don't know what it was, but I felt connected to her in a way I'd never felt before. That feeling has only grown in the past eight years and now I can't imagine living life without her. I don't want to imagine it. A world without (Y/N) in it isn't a world I want to exist in."

Sam exhaled slowly, realization crossing his features. It was rare for Dean to care for someone so deeply, but when he did, he became irrationally protective. Sam was painfully familiar with that particular side of his brother's nature. He also knew what it meant, what Dean was really saying--even if he wasn't ready to admit it.

"You should talk to (Y/N)," Sam urged. "Both about how you feel, and about why you don't want her to hunt alone."

"What do you mean, 'how I feel'?"

Sam raised his eyebrows. "You know exactly what I mean." He didn't give his brother a chance to respond. He grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and walked out the door, claiming a need to workout.

Dean watched Sam walk away, and a feeling of mild terror settled into his bones. He'd come very close to admitting how he really felt about you and it scared him. Hell, his feelings scared him. The fact that he was foolish enough to fall in love was bad enough, but the fact that you were the one who'd stolen his heart made it so much worse.

He'd told himself he would never fall in love, never get married, never settle down--this life wasn't conducive to any sort of domestic bliss. Part of him didn't think he deserved that kind of happiness, but the main issue was the danger of loving you so deeply. He knew the risks, knew how it would turn out--bloody, like it always did.

In his mind, the only way he could keep you safe was to pretend all he felt for you was platonic friendship. He could protect you on hunts and his guard would never be down around you, so he could protect you in every way. He'd seen how far you'd come, how strong you now were, and there was no way he would be the reason the world lost your beautiful soul.

No one could ever know the truth, not even Sam. The only way this didn't end bloody was if you never even suspected Dean loved you. No monster would be able to use his love for you against you, no monster would ever hurt you just to get to him. For you, for your safety, he was willing to break his own heart.

**********

It had been three days since you'd overheard the conversation between Sam and Dean. The first two days, you'd remained secluded in your room, claiming a migraine any time either of the boys came to check on you.

This morning, however, you'd woken up with a goal. You showered, got dressed, and made your way to the kitchen. As you were fixing yourself some breakfast, you heard someone enter the room.

"You're up early," Sam said warmly.

You turned to glance at him with a soft smile. "I wanted to get a head start on the day."

Sam raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. "You're feeling better, I take it."

You nodded. "Yeah, that headache was brutal." You felt bad for lying, but it was easier to fein a migraine than it was to admit what you'd overheard and the dark thoughts you'd been plagued with.

"Well, I'm gonna go for a run," Sam said cheerfully. "Any chance I could entice you to come with me?"

You laughed and rolled your eyes. "Not unless someone's chasing me."

He chuckled and ducked out of the kitchen, taking a bottle of water with him. Sam always asked if you wanted to join him on his morning runs, but he knew you were unlikely to ever agree. You hated running almost as much as Dean did.

You ate your breakfast quietly, contemplating your plans for the day. You had decided to start a new routine today, a routine you intended to continue until you felt better about yourself or until you could get Dean's words out of your head, whichever came first.

After breakfast, you went into the library to do some reading, intending to allow your stomach time to digest your food. You weren't sure exactly how much time had passed, but Sam had returned from his run, showered, and was now eating his breakfast at the table while scrolling through the latest news stories on his computer.

Dean, unsurprisingly, was still not awake, despite the fact that it was 10am.

You closed your book and stood up. "I'll be down in the gym if you need me," you said to Sam as you crossed the room towards the door.

"You'll--what?"

You gestured towards the hall behind you. "I'll be in the gym."

He looked perplexed, but didn't comment on your sudden desire to workout. He could tell something was a little off with you, but he had the feeling you wouldn't want to talk about it, so he decided to let it go. After all, it's not like going to the gym was something he needed to worry about--it wouldn't kill you (unlike some of your previous bad choices).

When you reached the gym, you looked around and sighed. You'd always hated working out. It was a reminder how out of shape you were and how imperfect your body was. Sure, hunting kept you relatively healthy--you had surprising stamina and endurance, but the weight just never seemed to fall off. You'd begun to feel like your fat was holding some kind of grudge against you, intent on making your life miserable for some perceived slight.

You sighed again and walked over to the treadmill in the corner. You stared at it for a few minutes, deciding whether you really wanted to use it. You'd always hated the treadmill, but you needed to start somewhere, so you hopped on and started to walk at a brisk pace.

Thirty minutes later, you switched to the stationary bike, wanting a change from the monotony of walking. Twenty minutes after that, you were bored out of your mind. You decided to try something else. Maybe lifting weights would do the trick.

About two reps in, your headphones died and you groaned in annoyance. You tugged them out of your ears and tossed them to the floor, opting instead to blast your music loudly through the bluetooth speaker Sam kept down there.

Alanis Morissette's voice now carried down the hall, but you couldn't be bothered to care. She was your go-to when you were feeling angry or upset, her music always making you feel better, especially when you scream-sang along.

After a few more reps, you decided to work on your boxing skills. Sam had taught you years ago, mostly as a way to teach you some fighting skills. You wrapped your hands to protect your knuckles, settled into your stance, and began hitting the punching bag. The release of frustration you felt was almost immediate and you realized you should have just done this from the start.

Upstairs, Dean was just returning from running an errand. He'd woken up and been distressed to find they were out of bacon and beer--his two main food groups. He'd gone to the grocery store to restock and was now happily cooking an excessive amount of bacon for his breakfast.

"You know you should eat something besides bacon, right?" Sam teased him.

"Nothing is better than bacon, Sammy. Nothing." Dean scooped the rest of the bacon onto his plate with a look of glee.

"Heart attack on a plate," Sam muttered.

"Oh shut it," Dean grumbled as he bit into his first piece. He moaned obnoxiously, causing his brother to roll his eyes dramatically. "Where's (Y/N)?" He asked, words garbled by the bacon he was still chewing.

"What?"

Dean swallowed. "Where's (Y/N)? I stopped by her room before I went out and she was gone."

"She's in the gym."

"I'm sorry, she's what?"

Sam shrugged. "She's in the gym. She went down after breakfast."

"Why?"

"I assume to work out," Sam said lightly.

Dean groaned. "Obviously, smartass, but why was she gonna work out?"

"I don't know, dude. Why don't you ask her?"

Dean looked down at his plate. "I will once I finish my bacon."

Sam rolled his eyes, but didn't comment further.

Once Dean had finished his breakfast, he made his way down to the gym, a feeling of dread settling into his stomach. He couldn't really put a finger on why, only that he didn't like the feeling.

As he neared the gym, he heard 'You Oughta Know' blasting down the hallway. He didn't hear your voice over the lyrics until he actually entered the room. He would have smiled at the sight if he wasn't so worried about you.

Your back was to him as you continued to pummel the absolute shit out of the punching bag. Dean had to admire both your form and the power you exuded. But as he watched you, that feeling of dread began to creep higher into his chest, wrapping itself around his heart.

He called out your name, but you couldn't hear him over the music. He spotted the speaker and walked over to turn it off, plunging the room into a shocking silence.

You spun around, surprised to see Dean standing beside the speaker. "I, uhh, I called your name," he muttered sheepishly.

"Oh, sorry. I was kinda in the zone."

He nodded. "Yeah, I noticed. So, uh, whatcha doin'?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Working out...as one does in a gym."

He winced, feeling like an idiot. "I know that, but what I don't know is why."

"Why what?"

"Why are you suddenly working out in the gym for two straight hours? You hate the gym."

You stared at him with an unreadable expression. Your eyes were dark and your jaw was set as you regarded him. "You can't think of any reason?"

Dean thought about it for a moment. "No...hence why I'm asking."

You gestured to your body. "Because I'm not strong enough or fast enough or physically fit enough to hunt...sound familiar?"

Dean winced, eyes widening with realization. "(Y/N), I--"

You held up your hand. "No need to apologize, Dean. I realized you were right. I am weaker than you and Sam, I am slower and heavier and fatter--I am completely less physically capable than either of you. So obviously, I need to do something about that. Hence the gym."

Dean stared at her, anger darkening his features. "None of that is true."

"Of course it is, Dean. You said it yourself. I'm just agreeing with you."

"Of course you're not the same as us, (Y/N), but that has nothing to do with your body or your weight or your ability. We're men, and large ones at that. We're physically built different than you, but that doesn't mean you need to change anything about yourself to be more like us."

"Well clearly I do, or you wouldn't have found my body so unacceptable--you wouldn't have told Sam I'm not capable of hunting on my own."

Whatever thread was keeping Dean from yelling finally snapped. "Your body isn't unacceptable! You aren't weak! There is nothing wrong with you--nothing!"

You were stunned into silence by the intensity of his words. You didn't know how to react or what to say.

Dean sighed deeply, feeling the anger drain out of him at last. "You didn't hear the rest of our conversation, did you?" His voice was barely a whisper, but you could hear the raw emotion in it.

You shook your head.

"You should have stayed...you may have learned something."

"What would I have learned?" you asked quietly.

"You would have realized that your interpretation of my words wasn't at all how I meant them. You would have heard me tell Sam how terrified I am of losing you, how that fear makes me want to keep you out of this life--away from hunting entirely. You would have seen that I love you just the way you are--that I don't want you to change a single thing about yourself. You would know that I am the problem, not you...it was never you."

"Dean..." you whispered, unsure of what to say. "You...you don't need to try and make me feel better."

He stared at you, green eyes full of fire. "I'm not trying to make you feel better. I'm trying to be honest about my feelings--to make you see you the way I see you."

"Why now?"

He was taken aback by your question, and it took him several moments to respond. "You know how I feel about romantic attachments...I worry about losing the person I love most, simply because they were unlucky enough to be loved by me. The fear of losing another person I love or have them be used against me is a pain I'm not sure I can bear. But you--you deserve better than my fears. You are the light to my darkness, my reason for living. I can't stand the thought of you believing I think less of you, not when I would burn the world down to keep you safe."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" you whispered, a glimmer of hope sparkling in your voice.

Dean took a step towards you. "If you think I'm telling you that I've been in love with you for years, that I love every single part of you inside and out, that I don't want you to change a single thing, that I think you're perfect...then yes."

You exhaled sharply, breathing ragged as you stared into his soulful green eyes.

He crossed the short distance between you and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against his body, not caring about the sweat staining your body.

He practically crushed you against him, holding on more tightly than you'd ever imagined he would. After several moments, he loosened his grip on you so he could gaze down into your eyes. A small, lopsided smile graced his lips and his eyes fluttered shut. As his lips grazed against yours, you sighed softly, causing him to immediately deepen the kiss.

His hands dug into your soft flesh, seemingly reveling in the feeling of your body in his arms. His kiss was everything you'd imagined it would be and so much more--you felt safe, loved, and cherished. You didn't know you could have those feelings from a single kiss, but here you were, drowning in emotion, his love the life raft saving you from darkness.

When you finally parted, Dean rested his forehead against yours. "Do you believe me, (Y/N)? Can you see how much I love you? How badly I need you?"

"Yes," you breathed. "I believe you."

He sighed happily, breath mingling with yours. "Will you let me show you?"

You pulled away from him slightly so you could see his face better.

His eyes were dark with hunger, his gaze almost predatory. If you didn't know him, you would be frightened.

"Let me show you, sweetheart," he begged softly, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. "Let me show you how much I love your body--how badly I've wanted to touch it, mark it, make it mine. Let me touch every curve, kiss every scar--bite and lick and suck every pleasure point until you're a moaning mess in my arms. Let me make love to you the way you deserve."

No man had ever spoken to you like that, and you felt your toes curl at his words. If he could spark your body alive with nothing but words, you wondered what he was capable of doing with his body.

Your breathing was labored and your voice husky as you murmured, "How could I ever say no?"

Dean smirked and he tugged you to him again, lips crashing against yours. You felt his hands all over your body, clutching any part of you he could reach. His mouth left yours, lips trailing down your neck, nipping and sucking gently against the sensitive skin. He licked the column of your throat and groaned softly, muttering "salty" in a devilishly sexy voice.

You pulled away, suddenly remembering what you'd been doing when Dean interrupted you. "Wait--I-I need to shower first."

Dean groaned in annoyance. "No you don't."

You started to peel him off you with a light chuckle. "Yes, I do. I feel gross."

He pouted adorably. "For the record, I would make love to you on the sparing mat, right here, right now."

You laughed. "As hot as that might be, I really want to shower...I'll even let you join me." You shot him a wink and ran toward the door.

He realized what you'd said and turned to run after you, chasing you all the way to the showers. You giggled when he caught you, tugging you to him to kiss at your exposed neck and shoulders.

"Shower!" you squealed.

He groaned. "Fine, fine."

He practically dragged you into the bathroom, turning away from you to turn on the water before tugging you into the shower with him.

"Dean, our clothes--"

"They'll dry," he grumbled, fingers tugging on your shirt to lift it over your head.

You allowed him to remove it, neither of you paying attention to where it landed as he tossed it out of the shower. He did the same with his own shirt and jeans, followed by your leggings.

He spun you around, so your back was pressed against the cold tile, water spraying across your chest. He unzipped your sports bra and you allowed it to fall to the ground, revealing your heavy breasts to his wanton eyes.

"Fuuuuck," he groaned, lips attaching to your pert nipple.

You ran your hands through his hair as he continued his gentle assault on your breasts. His lips didn't leave your chest, even as his hands trailed down to slowly peel off your underwear.

He slipped two fingers between your folds, collecting your slick and pressing firmly against your clit. You moaned softly at the sensation, head falling back against the tile.

He removed his fingers, slipping them between his lips and sucking them dry. "I need more," he murmured hungrily.

He dropped to his knees and grabbed your right leg, slinging it over his shoulder before you could utter a word. You started to complain that you needed to wash the sweat off first, but he ignored you, tongue sweeping between your folds without a care.

Any protests you may have had were lost as he worked his magic on your pussy. Your fingers twisted into his short hair, head back, mouth open, drowning in the pleasure he was giving you. You were thankful for the tile you leaned against and his strong arms holding you in place as he feasted on you.

Your legs began to shake and you cried out his name seconds before your orgasm hit you, sending you spiraling into bliss. Dean didn't want to stop, but your hands weakly tugged on his hair and your legs began to buckle, so he pulled himself up to keep you from falling.

"Delicious," he whispered against your mouth as he pressed another kiss to your lips.

You wrapped your arms around his neck to hold him closer to you and he shifted to press his body tightly against yours. You gasped as his still clothed member brushed against your thigh and your hands instantly slid down his body to rid him of the annoying fabric.

"Wanna touch you," you begged softly.

He groaned, but pulled away from your reach.

"Dean," you whined.

"Shh, let me wash you first," he insisted.

"But--"

He cut you off with a kiss. "Let me worship you before you touch me--I wanna make this about you."

Your expression softened and you leaned into him. "I love you, Dean."

Your voice was a low whisper, but he heard it all the same. You hadn't said the words earlier, a fact he had been trying to ignore. Hearing you say them now nearly had him throwing all his plans for the next week out the window--wanting to do nothing more than worship you from dusk to dawn for the foreseeable future.

"Dean?" you whispered warily, concern filling your eyes.

He used all his self-control to push his own needs and wants aside. "I heard you, baby," he assured you. "I heard you."

His kiss was gentler this time, sweeter even, and it warmed your body from the inside out. He broke away, panting, a whispered "I love you" pressed into your skin as he made his way down your body and back up again.

After what felt like an eternity, he grabbed the shower gel and loofa and slowly began to lather you up, washing your body in a surprisingly sensual way. When he finally decided you were clean, he helped you under the spray and made sure all the suds were rinsed off.

"Can I touch you now?" you begged.

He smiled warmly. "I suppose I can allow it." He forced his voice to be steady and calm, despite the desire screaming inside of him--begging him to take you well and properly.

You sunk to your knees, gaze lifting to meet his. You gave him a shy smile before taking his cock in your soft hands. He was larger than average, but you weren't afraid of the pain. Instead, you focused on giving him the same intense pleasure he had given you.

When you wrapped your lips around his cock, his head fell back and a groan escaped his parted lips. His fingers danced across your scalp, gathering your hair to one side so he could see you properly.

"Shit, sweetheart," he mumbled. "You're taking me so well."

You moaned around him, pleased with the praise he offered you. You continued to work him, using your tongue to caress and tease him in ways he'd never experienced before.

He wasn't at all surprised by your skill, but he was surprised by how damn good it felt. Sure, it had been a while for him, but he couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten a blow job that made his knees weak--if ever.

"Shit, baby," he whispered. "I'm so close--gonna cum for you."

His fingers raked through your wet hair and he used his other hand to lean against the tiles behind you. His hips jutted forward slightly as you relaxed your throat, taking him as far back as you could.

You flattened your tongue against his cock and flexed it, repeating the motion a few times before Dean's grip on your hair became painful and he exploded into your throat with a cry of your name.

You swallowed everything he had to give you, not releasing him from your lips until he pulled away, forcing the two of you to separate.

Dean leaned back against the shower wall and pulled you towards him, trying to support his weak legs while also helping you up. Once you were on your feet, he tugged you into him and placed a feverish kiss to your lips.

He panted heavily when he finally released you from his tight grip, allowing you to suck in some much needed air.

"Where did you learn how to do that thing with your tongue?" he asked in a hoarse voice.

You smirked. "It's a natural talent."

He grinned. "Well I fucking love it."

You laughed and leaned back into him, capturing his lips in a sweeter kiss. "So what are your thoughts on continuing this elsewhere?"

"Well my plan was to make you moan my name for the next several hours...I don't care where we go, as long as you're willing to let me ruin you."

Your thighs clenched together involuntarily and you moaned softly, biting into your bottom lip to keep the sound from being too loud. "My room?"

"My room is closer," he murmured into your shoulder.

You smiled and backed away from him, causing him to pout. You turned the water off and continued to back out of the shower. You grabbed a towel and wrapped it around yourself, which only served to upset Dean.

"What do you think you're doing?" he growled.

Your eyes widened. "Putting on a towel so we can go to your room..."

"Did I say you could hide your body from me?" His tone was shockingly dominant and a spark of need went straight to your core.

"No," you whispered.

"I didn't think so." He stepped forward, dominance oozing from every pore in his body. "Drop the towel. Now."

You gasped softly, but heeded his command. The towel fell to the floor and he took yet another predatory step in your direction.

"Don't you ever hide yourself from me again. I wanna see every inch of your body." His hands grabbed at your hips roughly, tugging you towards him forcefully. "You're mine, do you understand me? Mine."

While the idea of someone owning you would normally piss you off, in this context it was a shocking turn-on. You swallowed thickly as you stared up into his heated gaze, suddenly unable to move, or even breathe.

He leaned down to kiss along your jaw towards your ear. He breathed slowly against your skin, causing you to shiver and clutch his arms for support. "Is this okay?" he whispered, voice still gruff, but much more loving.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to form actual words.

"Baby, I need you to tell me with your words. I need you to say whether this is okay or not. I don't wanna do something you're not into."

You turned your head a little so you could see his bright green eyes. The look in his eyes was reflected in your own and there was no doubt or fear in your voice when you answered him. "I'm very into it."

Your reassurance was all he needed to fall back into the dominant role. "Then you'd better get your ass into my bed before we have a problem."

You turned to open the door, yelping slightly when his hand smacked your ass. You shot him a surprised look and he looked slightly sheepish.

"Sorry, baby...I couldn't resist. You've got a great ass."

You smirked at the compliment and gave him a little wiggle before rushing into the hallway and making a beeline for his bedroom door.

He was surprised by your teasing action, but it only made him smile. He chased after you, mumbling, "Oh you're in for it now, princess."

You giggled as you landed on his bed, crawling up towards the headboard as he came through the doorway. He shut the door behind him and stalked to the edge of the bed, fiery gaze locked on you.

"It's unfair how sexy you look right now," he growled. "Makes me wanna fuck you senseless--make you scream my name until your voice is hoarse."

You gulped, trying to hide behind false bravado. "Are you going to do that from the other side of the room?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Don't be a brat."

"Why don't you come here and do something about it."

Dean practically jumped onto the bed, climbing on top of you and caging you beneath him in seconds. His cock was hard again, pressing against your thigh--a reminder of how badly he wanted you.

"Not so mouthy now are you?"

"Dean, I--"

"Hush," he murmured as he leaned down to kiss you. He shifted just enough so his cock brushed against your core, and you gasped into his mouth.

"How badly do you want me right now, (Y/N)?" he asked, voice rough with need.

"I've never wanted you more," you answered honestly.

He groaned lowly. "How do you want it? You want me to fuck you into this mattress or take it nice and slow?"

"Fuck me into the mattress," you begged softly. "Please."

"Jesus--I love when you beg for me," he growled.

"Fuck me, Dean," you pleaded. You weren't above begging, especially when it came to him.

Dean gripped his cock in his right hand and lined himself up with your entrance. He started to push in, trying to move slowly to avoid hurting you as much. "You're so fucking tight, baby," he whispered against your lips.

You gripped his biceps harshly, nails digging into his skin. The stretch was unbelievable, both painful and pleasurable all at once.

"You okay?" he whispered softly.

You nodded.

"Babe," he said in a warning tone.

"I'm okay--keep going."

He continued to push into you and your back arched as his cock brushed against your cervix. You whimpered at the feeling of fullness, and Dean struggled to remain motionless until you told him it was okay to move.

"I need you to move, Dean--please."

He pulled himself up slightly and started a very gentle pace, still allowing you time to adjust. The last thing he wanted was to make this painful or uncomfortable for you. He didn't give a damn about his enjoyment--all he wanted was to watch you fall apart over and over again.

"Your pussy feels incredible, baby," he groaned. "I could stay here forever."

He began to move more quickly and your breathing became more erratic as you reveled in the pleasure of the moment. Your moans were like music to his ears, spurring him on as he slid into you again.

"I love the sounds you're making, sweetheart. I wanna hear you."

He picked up his pace and shifted you into a new position so he could get even deeper inside you. You cried out as he hit your g-spot, pussy clamping down on his cock in response.

"Shit--" he groaned. "You're squeezing me so tight--taking my cock so fucking well, gorgeous."

Your back arched again and your head was tossed back, pressing into the pillows at the head of the bed. Your hands twisted in the sheets, unable to reach his arms or his back as he slammed into you repeatedly.

He knew you were close, but he wasn't ready to feel you cum yet. "Look at me, baby."

He waited until your hazy eyes met his.

"Don't cum until I tell you to, understand?"

Your eyes widened. "But, Dean--"

"Not until I give you permission," he said firmly.

You nodded rapidly, not wanting to risk your orgasm altogether.

"Good girl."

You moaned loudly and your pussy clenched tightly around his cock, causing him to echo the sound.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned. "You like it when I praise you, huh? You wanna hear about how much I love this pussy? How I've been thinking about fucking you for years? How I've craved your body?"

You were practically breathless beneath him, unable to formulate a response or even acknowledge his words.

"Your pussy is fucking perfect," he continued. "Made for me. And this body? Gorgeous and soft and fucking delicious. Can't believe I get to touch you like this--make you feel so good."

"Dean, please," you begged breathlessly.

"Not yet, sweetheart."

You whimpered, but continued to focus on staving off your impending orgasm.

"Who owns this pussy, baby?"

You didn't answer--too focused on not cumming until he gave you permission.

His grip on your legs tightened, bringing your attention back to him. "That's it, pretty girl, look at me. Tell me who owns this pussy."

"You," you gasped out.

"That's right. This pussy is mine. I'm the only one who gets to touch you like this--make you moan and whimper and scream. No one else."

"Only you," you cried.

"Fuck--" His breathing had become ragged and he had begun to struggle to keep himself from orgasming.

"Please," you whimpered.

"Please what, baby?"

"Let me cum!" you begged.

Dean decided to take pity on you. "Cum for me, baby."

"Dean!" you screamed as your orgasm ripped through you. The pleasure so white hot and blinding you nearly blacked out.

Dean helped you ride out the waves of pleasure before lowering himself back down to hover over you. He placed soft kisses to your heated skin and whispered, "You're so damn beautiful when you cum."

You were gulping down mouthfuls of air, but you heard his whispered words. "I love you," you murmured.

He groaned softly. "Love you more."

He picked his pace back up, intent on giving you another orgasm before allowing himself to cum.

It didn't take long for him to work you back up, letting you hang on the precipice of blissful pleasure once more.

"You feel so good beneath me, baby. I love watching your pretty face as you fall apart. I just can't get enough of you," he admitted.

Your nails dug into his back, indicating you also couldn't get enough of him. "Dean, I need more," you pleaded.

"Touch yourself for me, baby. I want you to cum before I fill you up."

You lowered your hand down and slipped it between your bodies. You found your clit with ease and began to gently toy with it, sending pulses of toe curling pleasure up your spine.

"Fuck, yes. That's it baby. God, this pussy is addicting...don't ever wanna stop."

"So close," you whimpered.

"Yeah, sweetheart? You wanna cum?"

"Please, Dean."

"How badly?"

"Dean," you whined.

"Be a good girl and tell me how badly you wanna cum for me and maybe I'll let you."

"Please-please-please," you begged. "I wanna cum so bad. I need to cum, Dean, please!"

As much as he loved prolonging your orgasm, he couldn't bear saying no to you. "Cum for me, sweetness," he whispered into your ear.

Your body began to shake as the dam broke once again. You cried out as the pleasure invaded all of your senses, overwhelming you completely.

Dean began to chase his own high, desperately needing to fill you up with his seed. "You're the only woman who makes me lose control," he whispered into your skin.

You were surprised by his words, but they warmed your heart. Dean wasn't the kind of man to lose control often, so the fact that you made him do so was a massive ego boost.

"I wanna feel you fill me up, Dean," you murmured. "Need your cum inside me."

"Fuck," he growled, teeth grazing your pulse point.

His hips began to stutter as he reached his peak. Your nails scraped along his back, giving him the last push he needed to fall over the edge. He came with a guttural growl of your name, ropes of hot cum filling your pussy.

His arms started to feel weak as his orgasm came to an end, and he collapsed on top of you, crushing you beneath his larger frame. You couldn't have been bothered to care if he'd literally smothered you--you were too fucked out to form coherent thoughts.

After a while, Dean managed to pull himself off of you, only to collapse on the bed beside you. He reached for you, strong arms wrapping around your waist to tug you into his chest.

"You're so damn incredible, (Y/N/N)," he whispered into your shoulder, lips pressing soft kisses there. "I don't think I've ever cum that hard--and you managed to do it twice."

"I can't feel my legs and my head is fuzzy," you mumbled. "So I second all of that."

Dean chuckled softly and held you even tighter. "I love you," he murmured. "More than you'll ever know."

"I think I have some idea," you whispered back. "And I love you just as much."

Dean smiled, feeling truly happy for the first time in as long as he could remember. He knew he should get up, help you clean up and all that, but he couldn't get himself to move and you weren't complaining. In fact, your breathing had evened out and he had a feeling you'd be asleep soon.

He kissed your shoulder one more time before resting his head comfortably on the pillow, feeling more relaxed than he had in a while. Just as sleep threatened to claim him, he heard his brother's voice from the other side of the closed door.

"While I'm super happy for you both, I have one request. Next time the two of you decide to fuck each other's brains out, could you at least have the decency to wait until I'm gone? I can't un-hear any of that!"

You laughed lightly and you could feel Dean's laughter rumbling in his chest from behind you.

"We'll do our best," Dean called back. "But no promises! She's simply too hot to resist--you never know when I'll get the urge to ravish her."

You laughed even harder, but you reached behind you to lovingly smack his hip.

"Ohh gross, dude!" Sam grumbled before walking away, leaving the two of you alone again.

"You're so bad, Dean Winchester."

"I didn't hear you complaining when I was making your legs shake ten minutes ago."

You tossed him a grin over your shoulder. "I didn't say it was a bad thing."

He matched your grin. "Touché, my love. Touché."

[ambrosiagourmet]

In chapter 28, Marcille lays out why the journey she's been on has been worth the pain: because they were able to bring Falin back. The injuries, the indignity, and the mess of it all - they are tolerable primarily in context of destination she believes she's reached at this point.

In truth, of course, the story is far from finished. In fact, I would argue that this is actually where hers really starts. This scene holds the seed of the very thing the Winged Lion will exploit to lead Marcille to become the Lord of the Dungeon. After all, with a desire as far reaching and deeply held as Marcille's, if the only acceptable outcome is success, what other choice does she have but to bargain with the infinite?

So let's talk about this idea - where it leads her, how Laios' path intersects with it, and how they both help each other move forward in the face of failure.

First though, I want to step back and talk about something else: the shapeshifter chapters.

With these chapters recently covered by the anime, there has, of course, come plenty of fun discussions about which version of each character belongs which other character's perceptions, and what that means.

One thing I've seen pointed out a few times is the fact that both Laios and Marcille's impressions of each other are based around Falin. Marcille's version of Laios is larger and more masculine, because those are the traits that stuck out to her in contrast to Falin. Laios' version of Marcille was directly inspired by her appearance and demeanor when resurrecting Falin.

So why is this important to a discussion about Marcille being focused on success? Well, it shows us where Laios and Marcille's relationship starts: built primarily around their shared love for Falin. It's from that shared beginning that they begin to learn about each other on their own terms.

And this is true for the whole group, to be clear. They are united by circumstance - love for a lost companion, a sense of responsibility, a desire for freedom - but they all grow and help each other beyond that circumstance. They help Senshi bury the ghosts of his past and eat some Hippogriff stew. They help Izutsumi open up to mutual love and friendship. And they learn so much about each other: about Chilchuck's family and Laios' love of monsters and Marcille's desires to live life alongside others.

In the particular case of Marcille and Laios, understanding each other is what lets them save each other. It is not through Falin that Laios talks Marcille down from the edge the Lion has brought her to, nor is it through her that Marcille comforts Laios after the demon is defeated, when it is still unclear how everything will work out.

In fact, it is very specifically the unknown fate of Falin that Marcille comforts him about.

She is willing to accept the outcome - willing, now, to embrace the journey itself, rather than only accepting it as a means to an end.

This is a lesson she learns from Laios, and it's a lesson we watch Laios learn, too.

Just before making her deal with the Lion, Marcille recalls everything that led her to that moment. She lingers on the pain, recalling the worst of their journey:

She only pushes through by remembering her goals: saving Falin, and equalizing the lifespans of her friends to match her own.

And yet, 10 chapters later, when reflecting on why she actually wants to see her goals through, it is the good parts of that very same journey that shine through.

There's an inherent contradiction here, one which Marcille doesn't know how to face. How can the suffering that she tolerates also be the love that drives her forward? How can the loss that she's worked so hard to reverse also be the very circumstance that created a world she, now, cannot stand to give up?

And Laios confronts her with the truth. Because it just is.

Losing Falin forced him to open up to others in a way he never had. It forced him to choose what he cares about, and in making that choice, it gave him the opportunity to be seen. To connect with others.

He has already had to come to terms with the fact that Falin's death has given him something - he would not have been able to kill her again if he hadn't.

There is something here that is fundamental to Dungeon Meshi's understanding of what life even is. Like, I don't think it's a coincidence that part of Laios' speech to Marcille in chapter 85 is actually first seen in the chapter where they fight off ghosts.

In 'Sorbet,' while possessed , Laios thinks that it would have been better if the dragon had eaten him, instead of Falin. The ghosts make people lose their will to live - they are dragged away from life.

When he's pulled back from that brink, Laios realizes that he can't move forward without accepting that she is gone. He even compares the way he was holding on to her to being possessed: it pulled him away from life, from the present moment.

To carry on, he must accept what has been lost, and focus on protecting the life that they still have.

Like Marcille, he has to accept the contradictions of their journey. That life means eating, and eating requires death. That sometimes one must be selfish in order to be kind, and that selflessness can easily be twisted into to cruelty.

That loss will, inevitably, lead you to find happiness that you may not have found otherwise.

This is how he gets through to Marcille. And I think part of the reason he reaches her with these specific ideas is because those contradictions are baked so thoroughly into their relationship.

Marcille only met Falin after she had been left behind by Laios. Laios was able to reconnect with Falin because she left Marcille. They both met each other through Falin, and yet they only really got to know and care for one another after she died.

And of course, that's why Marcille uses the same ideas to comfort Laios, in the final chapter. It is because of Laios that she is able to accept the journey for itself, and not need the happy ending to justify its meaning to her.

Together, they help each other move forward, and accept that they may not be able to bring Falin back.

Which, if I'm being honest... I think this is the reason Falin can come back, narratively speaking, without the resurrection feeling like it takes away from the themes of the story.

After all, she doesn't do it for Marcille or Laios - she does it for her own sake. Her own hunger and her own desire to eat are the things that lead her back to life.

All three of them, together, end the story like this: not clinging to the things they are afraid to lose, but knowing they can choose to move forward together.

And, importantly, this happy ending is no longer the thing that gives the journey meaning. Rather, it is the privilege of the journey itself that is her happy ending: the chance to walk alongside others in the time they have, to get to know each other, and to eat well.

[mordredsheart]

disney villains ranked by how good they would be as a toxic romantasy love interest

10. gaston. make no mistake, he ranks highly in toxicity, and would no doubt excel in one of those romance novels about douchebros reenacting the most dangerous game with nondescript brunettes. but there’s simply no way he can hold his own against the faeries and monsters and sorcerers you’ll meet in chapter three.

09. hades. lord of the underworld is a fantastic gig, but i personally feel that his reliance upon comedy and snark somewhat undercuts the promising menace of him shouting that he owns you. he’d make a real charmer of a sidequest flirtation, though, if you survive it.

08. captain hook. manipulation is the bread and butter of your common or garden toxic romantasy love interest, and we all saw the way he played poor tinker bell. it ruled. do me next. extra credit for an underplayed tragic immortal angle (hey, he’s stuck in neverland, too!) and being figuratively and literally haunted by his own doom.

07. shan yu. for a villain with limited screentime he really has a way of setting the imagination aglow. what if your village was razed by a warlord and you ended up encountering him repeatedly in battle and for all the casually contemptuous evil he’s previously displayed he faced you with respect as an equal (and he *remembered* you) and oh no he’s hot. what then. he also gets bonus points because i think they made his hawk a beautiful lady shapeshifter in the live-action movie. two for the price of one.

06. the evil queen. she sets a high bar for unhealthy obsession, and “mad scientist” is an underrepresented flavor in this genre, plus the magic mirror has a lot of creepyhot stalking potential. she’s pretty high-maintenance, though, and her vanity simply wouldn’t allow your heroic quest and/or the other corner of the love triangle to share the spotlight with her. she might be better off as a supporting character in the deadly decadent court who calls you menacing endearments and strokes your face and gives you the feeling that you’re suddenly in way over your head.

05. frollo. oh, i hear you gnashing your teeth and wringing your hands. “not frollo!” yes frollo. if i was reading a romantasy novel and the villain told the protagonist that they were just imagining a rope around her beautiful neck, i would feel ripped off if they weren’t at *least* furiously making out in secret by the climax. your conscience may demur, but who hasn’t secretly yearned to have a city burned to the ground over them?

04. mor’du. who? you know mor’du. the big fuckoff bear from brave. the big fuckoff bear who once was a brooding, hulking celtic prince who massacred his whole family and underwent a devastating transformation-by-curse into a literal monster. it’s only his sheer bad luck that he ended up as a minor character in a heartwarming mother-daughter narrative and not the villain protagonist of a romantasy that’s half beauty and the beast and half texas chain saw massacre. but, with your help, we can change that.

03. jafar. he doesn’t rank more highly because it’s less fun when they’re only creepy to you and obsessed with you for, like, five minutes at the end, but still. he pulls it off *so* well, he’s got just the right kind of megalomaniac agenda, and he gets extra credit for style and the hypnosis thing. cue the agonizing yet erotic internal monologues from our protagonist about how he *compels* them.

02. TIE! between two gentlemen who operate on very similar levels of charming toxicity and would therefore thrive in this setting:

hans. it’s honestly a shame he’s in a disney children’s movie and not a five hundred page novel called a realm of ice and snow or whatever. he would not only be endgame but he would also have a small army of booktokers calling our protagonist names for doubting his love for them after one eensy little lying to them and leaving them to die incident. he’d be exactly as awful as he is canonically and he’d come out smelling like a rose.

dr. facilier. the *perfect* balance of tragic backstory versus inexcusable jackassery, and no one is immune to the charms of a roguish magician dabbling in that which he should not. he’ll sell you the prettiest vision of a future together that you ever did see, and then he’ll sell you out to evil forces to further his personal agenda, and he will not be sorry about it. he’ll call you doll while draining every drop of your blood for The Ritual and he won’t lose a wink of sleep. no romantic groveling apology from this one, either, i’m afraid. but he’d be so worth it.

01. maleficent. evil sexy faery who lives on something called the forbidden mountain, who devoted sixteen years of her life to tormenting a beautiful peasant with a secret royal lineage, up to and including kidnapping the “correct” love interest to prevent them from saving our protagonist from her own wicked plans? if there *isn’t* already a romantasy novel out in the world that is blatant aurora/maleficent fic, i will eat my hat.

honorable mentions:

rasputin. sure, he’s only a disney villain by technicality. but what romantasy protagonist worth their salt would kick the rotting lich-priest who murdered their whole family, and is trying to murder them, out of bed on a technicality?

bruno madrigal, who wasn’t a villain at all, but by gods he should have been. secret uncle who lives in the walls and is tragically haunted by your seemingly immutable shared fate *and* you’re his *favorite*? the gothic romantasy fans would devour him.

[earthnashes]

I don't think I've ever actually shown the finished design of my sona here, so here ya go! :)

Her name's Ash, a shapeshifting monster who acts as a traveling Lorekeeper. Her job is basically documenting the wonders of the worlds she travels to, particularly the inhabitants she comes across. AKA she's literally me with a fantastical twist. :)

I was actually told a few times that folks were surprised she looked so much like me and uh. That's kinda the point; I never had the interest to have a sona until relatively recently, and the only way I found myself actually connecting with her is by making her a mirror of myself in every way outside the obvious artist flare with the more animal features. She's loud, she draws, she likes to travel, she's got a big ol afro, she's weird. Badabing badaboom!

I'm pretty happy with the result! It also helps a lot when I do promotional art to actually have a functional design on hand to reference from. ;w; I'd also like to expand on her lore; a couple of my friends suggested building a world for all of our sonas to exist in for the hell of it and I'm pretty excited with the idea.

But ye! I hope ya'll like her! I may end up making an "official" ref of her sometime in the future. owo

[the-avengers-not-the-nazis]

Strange human emotions

Summary: Castiel has been experiencing some rather strange emotions, especially ones that revolve around you.

Word count: 1.7k

A/n: No one really writes about Cas, and it’s a shame because him, Sam and Dean are my absolute favorite. But I hope you enjoy ;)

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He could feel it coming up again, that same burning feeling in his chest that keeps him up deep into the night. Not that he can sleep to begin with, but still the feeling invaded his every thought as he waited for you and the brothers to wake up. 

Cas didn’t know how to explain it, these strange human emotions that he had learned over the years, he didn’t understand them. He knew the ones that you and the boys had taught him, how it helped him learn to express how he felt to others. And he was truly grateful for it. 

But, the ones that he was never taught always worried him. Like when he could feel when someone is staring at him, even though nobody is in the room with him. Or even worse when you are near, or when you touch his shoulder when you walk past him, or how about when you speak to him so beautifully that he feels his stomach churning into a weird fluttery feeling. 

There must be something wrong, Cas would conclude, pacing the bunker’s library in the dead of night. Maybe you had been taken over by a shapeshifter and this was the universes way of warning him. 

Yeah, that had to be it, but how would he tell Sam and Dean that? For Chucks sake you are one of their closest friends, how could he tell them that they would need to kill you?

No. No, he couldn’t kill you. He just needs to figure it out a bit more by morning, he couldn’t just go on a killing spree. It wouldn’t be right. 

But if you were in danger or you are the danger then he would need to speak to the brothers about this. But, how?

Cas sat across from you and Dean, Sam to his right of the booth as he stared out the fogged window. The falling snow momentarily capturing his attention, the way each flake was built uniquely different from the other. 

It amazed him how something so beautiful could end up in a world like this. 

“Hey, Happy meal.” Dean suddenly spoke up, dragging Cas away from the window. “You gonna focus, or are we gonna have to tell you while we fight the sons of a bitches?”

“I’m focused.” Cas told the older man, his hands coming to rest in his lap. 

“Mhm, yeah sure.” 

Sam cleared his throat, turning his computer to face the others as he began to explain the current case to them. “So, Sophia Cocklen had reported her husband missing, nearly a month ago. And as of three days ago both her brother and eldest son have disappeared as well.”

“Has to have something to do with the men,” you spoke up, dipping a French fry in your ketchup before popping it in your mouth. “Because Sophia’s sister, mother and two daughters hadn’t been touched at all over the past month.”

Sam nodded, clicking on another tab as some police reports popped on screen. “That’s what I thought as well, but the thing is that none of them have any bad records on there name. And…”

Sams voice seemed to drift off, running farther and farther from his ears as the same burning feeling began to arise from his chest. He glanced at you for a quick second, the way you looked at your work and took it seriously. The way your eyes seemed to have a small sparkle in them when you spoke. 

And especially the way your hair slightly fell in front of your eyes, hiding that sparkle that made his stomach erupt. It made him want to reach over the table and push it out of your way, just so he could catch another glimpse of…

You pushed your hair out of your face, halting Cas’s thoughts completely. Why was he thinking that? What were you and the boys talking about? Why did his body’s vessel feel so warm and sweaty? Was it getting hotter? What if you had turned evil? What if this was your way to slowly kill him off?

Him. Castiel, an angel of the Lord. Struck down by a woman that was more than likely possessed by a monster. 

“Cas?” You questioned, facing the angelic being who seemed to be almost in a trance. “You alright? You look like your sweaty.”

Cas pulled at the collar of his trench coat, the feeling of sweat sliding down his neck. Boy, did he hate how the human body can physically act when you don’t need it to. 

“Yes,” He told you rubbing his hands against his pants legs. “Yes I’m fine it’s just a little warm in here is all.”

“Really?” Dean asked, taking a quick sip from his lukewarm coffee. “It’s pretty cold in here to me, what about you Sam? Y/n?”

“Dean.” 

“I’m just saying, you gotta focus in, Cas. You’ve been acting real edgy for the last couple of weeks.”

“I’m fine,” Cas told him, trying not to drag the situation down the rabbit hole. “It’s probably just… allergies.” 

The boys and you shred a quick look with one another, knowing well enough that angels don’t have allergies. “Cassie?” You questioned leaning forward onto the table. “You don’t get allergies.”

Cas felt his face warm up, “That was just the first thing that came to mind.” He told you, his fingers fiddling with one another. “That’s what you all do.”

Dean smacked his lips, letting out a quick ok before continuing with his conversation. “As I was saying we need to go and search every place that these men where last seen at. And normally I would say go by ourselves to save them, but I’m not so sure what we are up against just yet. So Sam and I will head down to the bar the brother was last seen and Cas, you and Y/n can go and search the junkyard.”

Everyone agreed to Deans order, quickly finishing up their lunch before they need to head back out. Well almost everyone agreed. Cas sat there in his seat, pondering if he should pull Dean or Sam aside and ask if these feelings he is getting about you is bad or good. Because he does not want to harm others but at the same time he didn’t want to hurt you either. 

He wanted to beat his head against the table, the thoughts that raced through his mind aggravated him. But what could he do about it? Wait… you and him were going to the junkyard to search for clues of the missing family members, he himself could interrogate you there. But, how?

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At the junkyard, you and Cas kept you voices low, barley speaking a word to one another as you inspected the place. Your flashlight shined about the place, scoping out any and all items that could appear useful for the case. 

“So, Sam said that the dad and son used to work here. Almost like a father-son business, you know?” You told him, shining the light in the angels direction, mindful not to blind him in the eye. 

He nodded, unable to stop the fluttery filling the further he walked with you. It was killing him, he wanted to ask you what you were doing, because he knew for a fact it was neither of the boys. But, at the same time he didn’t know how to bring it up. 

On one hand he could slowly bring up the topic, have a simple conversation before he would ask you. Though, on the other hand, he could just flat out ask you if you were trying to kill him. Because, that’s what it surely felt like. That you were killing him slowly and purposefully.

Cas came to a quick decision, he would hold a conversation with you then ask you. Simple as that, no harm no foul. 

“Cassie?” You asked, that soft voice of yours causing his chest to burn and his stomach to twist into knots. What the hell were you doing to him? “Are you alright-“

“Are you trying to kill me?”

You were shocked by his sudden question, his straightforward tone and seriousness catching you off guard completely. “… No?”

“It sure doesn’t seem that way.” He continued to accuse, folding his arms over his chest like he’d seen Dean do plenty of times before. “Would you care tell why you are trying to kill me?”

“But, I’m not?” You told him, voice uncertain and slightly laced with worthy. “Why would you think that?”

Cas glanced around the junkyard, almost as if the answer was somewhere written in the piles upon piles of junk. “My chest has been burning every time you come close to me, or how about when my stomach make me feel like my vessel is going to induce vomiting. When I know for a fact that I don’t eat anything to make it do so.”

You stood silently, letting the words sink deep into your skin. His chest burned? His stomach felt like he was going to throw up? Why the hell would he have thought that you were trying to kill him? It honestly just sounded like his vessel was sick, or maybe he—

You cut your thoughts short, and it suddenly clicked in your mind. A sly smile gracing your lips as you walked towards the angel. “Oh, Cassie~” You sang out, free hand coming to play with the sleeve of his trench coat. “Do you have a crush on me?”

Cas furrowed his brows, eyes dancing across your face as you came closer. “…No? At least I don’t think so.”

A chuckle left your lips, standing up on your tip toes you gave the angel a quick kiss on his check. Watching as a light blush crept upon his cheeks. “I like you too, Cassie.” You turned back to the junkyard, flashing your light at an empty bathtub and broken mattress, leaving the poor angel stuck in his spot. 

Cas lifted a hand to where you had kissed him, the ghost of your lips making his heart stutter in his chest. Damn you, he thought to himself. Damn you and these strange human emotions. 

[ry3breadl0rd]

some titles uncle rick deprived us of

”I Fall To My Death (Again)” for the fall into tartarus

“I Get Mugged by Monsters” that one chapter where leo’s tool belt gets stolen

“Jason Meets his Brother” hercules chapter

“I Obtain A Death Ray” the sphere thing

“Leo Makes a Great First Impression” when he blows up new rome

“I Scare Some Pirates With An Unofficial Sponsorship” that chapter where percy scares off the pirates with diet coke

“A Spider Hates My Mom” annabeth at any point with arachne ngl

“Scrawny Is The New Sizzling Hot” leo+hazel with narcissus

“We Get Slapped to New York” zeus smacking the argo ll to new york

“Nyx Gives Us A Tour” when they convince nyx to not murder them immediately by pretending they’re tourists

“My Evil Great-Grand Mother Wakes Up” self explanatory i hope

“Hazel Orders A Horse From Amazon” hazel meets arion

“I Get Blasted Out Of This World” leo goes to ogygia

“Fleecy Does Us A Solid” when they meet iris

“I Tame A Dragon” leo with argo

“I Vaporize Some Old Ladies” first chapter of son

“I Give My Dad Some Decor Tips” nico and hades conversation

“Piper Talks Her Boyfriend To Life” when piper charm speaks jason back to life

“I Play Roulette With A Blind Man” when percy drinks the gorgons blood

“Piper Sees Dead People (In Her Knife)” i might be remembering wrong but it’s that one where they try to trick piper by showing her how her friends were doing in her knife, like trying to convince her they were all dead

“We Use Adidas To Summon A Goddess” nike chapter

“Mudman, Hazel, and Frank Get Brunch” when they get to alaska

“I Learn The Power Of Positivity” percy and misery

“We Meet A Cool Girl (Literally)” khione chapter

“I’m Leo. You Killed My Mother. It’s My Turn” based on the funny comment:) it’s for when leo blows up gaea

“My Nosebleed Wakes Up My Great-Grandma” when gaea wakes up

“Mr. D Hates Ballet” when he helps percy and jason against the twin giants

“Frank Gets A Blast To The Past” when hazel shares her past with him

“Frank Sets Himself On Fire” with the firewood and freeing thatanos

“I Got A Girlfriend?” jason first chapter

”Why Did It Have To Be Poison?” that chapter with polybotes

“Jason Becomes The Oldest Demigod!” old man jason

“Game Night Goes Too Far” war games in son

“The World Hates Us, Literally” hoh when they’re low key attacked by like everything

“We Traumatize Frank” when percabeth gets caught together

“Lions, and Tigers, and Frank, Oh My!” when frank unlocks his shapeshifting stuff

“I Aquire a Misfortune Cookie” i might be delulu but didn’t nemesis omfg i knew that why did i put nike give leo a fortune cookie to open if he needed help?? but price would not be fun

“The Law is On My Side For Once” percy and terminus vs polybotes

“Being A Dumb Blonde Has Its Perks” annabeth when she drops the knife that one chapter

[xspeter]

LOML

luke castellan x fem!reader

angst, angst, angst. mini blurb to help me get my flow back :) based off of LOML by Taylor Swift.

Percy Jackson isn’t sure what’s worse. Luke’s betrayal, or the look on your face when you find out. He’s sure he’ll get nightmares about it.

You’d had a wide smile on your face, the woven flower crown in your hair hinting that you’d just been out at the flower fields with your siblings.

You’d been called to help patch up Percy after what you had been told was a fight, but the somber energy in the room immediately told you something was off. It was too suspicious to have Chiron, Mr. D, Percy, Annabeth, and Grover all in the room for what was supposed to simply be slapping on a band-aid.

The smile on your face fell, and was instead replaced with a subtle frown. Your eyebrows furrowed, and you crossed your arms over your chest uncomfortably. “Is something wrong?” You asked, eyeing everyone in the room.

Percy swallowed and hesitantly glanced to Annabeth, who already had the remnants of tears in her eyes. And if the glossiness told him anything, it was that she was about to burst out crying again. Not that he could blame her.

He watched your frown grow as recognition flashed across your face. You and Luke always had been so in tune to each others emotions, he’s honestly surprised you didn’t notice the lack of his presence earlier.

“Y/N-” Chiron started, but you interrupted him. “Where’s Luke?”

Silence.

Percy didn’t believe in soulmates. It’s weird, because after finding out about greek gods and mythological beings being real, you’d think soulmates wouldn’t be that far off the table. But, they were.

But you and Luke had something Percy could tell was special. It wasn’t just a relationship - it was like a sacred bond bestowed upon the two of you by the gods themselves. Wherever Luke was, you’d be sure to follow, and vice versa. Fuck, you’d practically finish each other’s sentences as corny as that sounded.

That’s why he was so confused Luke would throw it all away so easily.

“Y/N…” Mr. D started, and Percy was sure it was the most emotion he’d ever even seen from him. You immediately began shaking your head, hands trembling as you stared at the ground. “Where is he?” You questioned again.

More silence followed, and Percy knew no one wanted to answer you, and he could understand why. Still, he took a breath and forced himself to look up at you. “He’s gone.”

It was like the five stages of grief flashed in your eyes simultaneously - merging together but still so distinguishable.

“No, he’s not.” You whimpered, “He’s in his cabin. I just saw him barely an hour ago-”

“He tried to kill Percy,” Annabeth finally breathed out. “He wants to overthrow the gods.”

You shook your head, a disbelieving laugh leaving your lips as you ran a trembling hand through your hair, moving up the white flower crown until it was lopsided on your head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You said through gritted teeth, “Luke wouldn’t do that. I know him. I know him. He wouldn’t. It must’ve been- been a shapeshifter or something. I mean, with all the other monsters out there there has to be a shapeshifter right? Yeah. That’s all it was. It wasn’t Luke.”

Percy squeezed the table in front of him until his knuckles were white, doing his best to choke down his tears. It was a tempting idea, one that he’d have no problem believing if it hadn’t been for the look in Luke’s eyes. No monster could recreate that kind of rage.

“It was him,” Percy spoke up, “I know it was.”

“You don’t know anything!” You yelled, eyes wild and skin paling, “You don’t know Luke like I do! He wouldn’t do this! Sure, he gets mad at the gods sometimes, but don’t we all? It doesn’t mean we’re gonna up and start a whole rebellion!”

Grover attempted to reach out to you, tears forming in his dark eyes, “I know it’s hard-” He attempted, but you practically jumped away from him. “Don’t touch me.” You growled lowly, pointing an accusing finger in his face. Grover didn’t argue.

Everyone in the room stared at you in pity, and it made you sick. You’d show them. Luke was in his cabin right now, probably trying to sleep or playing with one of the younger campers. Because that’s what Luke does - that’s the Luke you know.

You were the love of his life. He’d told you just two days ago during a secret picnic on the beach way past your curfew. You’d choked up, but told him the same through your tears. Luke had kissed you so hard you swore you were seeing stars, and you remember thinking this kiss had felt different than all the others. Almost desperate, like he was trying to grasp onto something he knew he was losing.

No.

Luke was in his cabin.

You’d left the Big House without even a grunt, practically sprinting across camp to the Hermes cabin. You didn’t care about the weird looks the stragglers were giving you, didn’t care about the soft ache in your legs. You needed to see Luke. Needed to feel him. Needed to intertwine your souls again.

You were panting by the time you reached it, throwing the doors open and looking around wildly. “Luke?” You called, voice breaking a bit as you did.

“Y/N?” someone said, you didn’t know their name. Or maybe you did. You honestly couldn’t remember right now, the only thing running through your mind was Luke.

“Have you seen Luke?” You asked.

The camper shook her head, blonder hair falling in front of her face as she did. “Hey, are you okay-”

You were gone before she could even finish her sentence. You spent hours searching for him, like he was a pair of house keys you’d lost and desperately needed in order to go home.

The moon was high into the sky by the time you stop, your vision blurry with tears and muscles burning. You’d even prayed to your father at some point - which was something you rarely ever did.

You fall to your knees in the grass, hand clutching at the golden bracelet on your wrist. Like had given it to you two nights ago on the beach, embroided in it were the letters “LOML.”

He’dtold you it was because you were the love of his life, but right now in this moment, with your chest puffing and knees weak, you think it may stand for something else.

Because while you may be the love of Luke Castellan’s life, he was the loss of yours.