#coco after dark

[lunarharp]

uhh another modern au agott follow-up. They've gotten progressively sillier

[ursidaepilled]

Nozomi having coco as her pairing upset me so bad that the selfcest joke i made between her and dark dream became so serious

[ccwpidsblog]

crashing out — onyakopon

⭐️: nsfw 18+ in which you learn why your fiancé retired from his old ways

cupids arrows: if you’re new here pls ignore my old post 🙏🏾

Onyakopon was the chillest man you’d ever met.

You remember the first day you met your fiancé like it was yesterday. Your puppy had slipped her leash and bolted after the two of you got caught in the rain. Mud was everywhere—on her paws, on the soaked sidewalk—and you watched in horror as she ran straight for the tall, dark-skinned man with deep waves and glistening golden grills, his baggy jeans and fresh Dunks standing no chance against the chaos she brought.

The muddy paws left stains all over his jeans, and you were mortified. You snatched her up quickly, firing off apology after apology, even offering to clean his shoes and pants. You were so embarrassed you swear you felt your soul leave your body.

But he just shrugged it off, his low brown eyes soft, paired with a small smile that eased your panic.

“You good,” he said simply, his voice calm and mellow, while you were seconds from collapsing in shame.

That day never left your mind, especially after you somehow ended up in a relationship with the man. Ony was so... nonchalant.

You yapped his ear off from morning until sundown, never running out of things to say, and he never once complained. When you accidentally knocked over his grinder, spilling his entire stash of weed, he didn’t get mad—he just kissed you on the forehead to quiet your babbling apologies. When you bleached his Chrome Hearts hoodie, almost crying over it, he shrugged and said, “It’s just a hoodie. I’ll get a new one.” And he did.

He was a sweetheart through and through. He spoiled you, listened to you, and made you feel like you could do no wrong. Even when he proposed—after three years together—it was the most emotion and the most words you’d ever heard him say all at once.

Most of your love lived in unspoken gestures. A look, a kiss on the temple, his hand resting on your knee when you ranted about your day. You always seemed to read his mind before he had to say anything. And you were okay with it—Ony’s silence spoke volumes.

So when his friends sat around telling wild stories—about your Ony chasing some guy down three blocks for stepping on his shoe—you just blinked, completely dumbfounded.

“That was not my Onya,” you said, shaking your head.

It was one of those late summer days where the air felt heavy with heat and conversation. You and Ony were at one of Sasha’s backyard barbecues—loud music, too much smoke in the air, and way too many faces you didn’t know. You didn’t mind, though. Ony always brought you along, hand warm in yours, whispering low in your ear, “You good, ma. I got you.”

But today, Ony had disappeared somewhere in the crowd. Probably off somewhere smoking a blunt to cool. You didn’t mind. Coco was leashed at your side, her tail wagging as she sniffed around, and you were content grabbing a soda from the cooler, letting the afternoon sun warm your shoulders.

Until you noticed him.

Tall, built like Ony but rougher around the edges. His smile didn’t reach his eyes, and something about him set you on edge.

“Cute dog,” he said, nodding at Coco, who barked happily.

“Thanks,” you replied, polite but wary. “She’s a menace, but she’s ours.”

The man chuckled, eyes lingering on you. Too long. “Yours and Ony’s, huh? Never thought I’d see the day Ony got himself all... domesticated.”

You blinked, thrown off by his words. “Yeah. We’re engaged.”

For emphasis, you lifted your hand and showed off the engagement ring sitting proudly on your finger. Ony had picked it out himself, saying something about it being “the only rock that could keep up with you.”

The man’s grin faltered for a second before turning sharp again, something ugly flickering behind his eyes. “Man... Ony really cleaned up. Bet you don’t know half of what he used to be on.”

You shifted your weight, suddenly uncomfortable. “Do you know Ony?”

Before he could answer, you felt it. The shift in the air.

You turned to see Ony stepping up, shoulders squared, jaw tight. His calm, lazy demeanor was gone, replaced with something cold and dangerous.

“Yo,” Ony’s voice was low, sharp like a blade. “What the hell you doin’ here, Ricky?”

The man, Ricky, smirked, completely unfazed. “Relax, bro. Just catching up with your girl. Didn’t know I wasn’t allowed to say hi.”

Ony ignored him and stopped in front of you, his hand gently brushing your elbow, like he needed to feel you there, steady and safe. “You okay?” he murmured, voice softer now.

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, searching his face. “Who is—”

“You don’t talk to her,” Ony cut you off, his voice sharper again as he looked back at Ricky. “Ever.”

Ricky barked out a laugh, shaking his head like the whole thing was a joke. “Damn, Ony. You really changed, huh? Wife. Dog. Family barbecues. You think this erases all that sh*t we did? Think it makes you better than me?”

You looked between them, confusion swirling in your chest.

Ricky’s smirk widened. “You ain’t gonna tell her? About Kev?”

The name hit Ony like a physical blow. His whole body went rigid.

“Who’s Kev?” you asked, your voice trembling.

Ricky grinned, ignoring you. “The one who didn’t make it ‘cause we were out there actin’ reckless. But you remember that, huh?”

It happened so fast you gasped. Ony’s fist collided with Ricky’s jaw, sending him stumbling back.

“Ony!” you cried as Coco barked wildly.

The crowd turned, the music seeming to dim as Ony’s voice rang out. “Keep my name out your mouth!”

Ricky spat blood and grinned like he’d won. “Same old Ony.”

Ony let Eren drag him back, but his face was still tight, his body vibrating with rage. He didn’t stop to explain. He just scooped Coco into your arms and pulled you out of the backyard, his hand gripping your waist.

“What the fuck was that, Onyakopon?” you hissed as you reached the car.

“Get in the fuckin’ car,” he snapped.

The tone stunned you into silence. It was the first time in three years Ony had ever raised his voice at you. Before you could argue, he lifted you off your feet, set you in the passenger seat, buckled you in, and slammed the door. 

The ride home was silent, the tension so thick it choked the air. Ony’s jaw was set, teeth gritted as his knuckles turned white on the steering wheel. You sat stiff in the passenger seat, arms crossed over your chest as you stared out the window. Even the low hum of the engine felt deafening.

When you got home, the silence followed. Ony unlocked the door, opened it for you like he always did, and set your purse down, but his movements were robotic, like he was on autopilot. You didn’t move—just stood there staring at him.

Finally, you snapped.

“You don’t get to act like nothing happened, Ony!” Your voice trembled with anger, eyes blazing as you threw your hands up. “What the hell was that back there?”

Ony didn’t answer. He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it onto the couch, walking straight to the kitchen like he hadn’t heard you.

“Don’t walk away from me!” you shouted, following him. “Don’t you dare—”

“I said it don’t matter!” he barked, whirling around. His voice was sharp and raw, cutting through the air like a blade.

You flinched but stood your ground, refusing to let him shut you out. “How can you say that? That man knew you, Ony. He knew things about you I don’t! And the way you hit him? Who was that?! Because it sure as hell wasn’t the man I know!”

Ony ran a hand down his face, pacing back and forth. “You don’t need to know that part of me.”

“Why?” you shot back, stepping closer, fists clenched at your sides. “Because you’re ashamed? Because you don’t want me to see who you used to be?”

He stopped dead in his tracks, his chest heaving as he looked at you, eyes dark and stormy. “It ain’t like that.”

“Then what is it, Ony?” you pushed, voice trembling. “You can’t stand here and tell me you love me—ask me to marry you—and then keep this huge part of yourself locked away like it doesn’t exist.”

“You don’t get it!” he snapped, voice booming. “I was reckless, alright? I was a dumb kid, running around, doing shit I ain’t proud of. You really wanna hear how bad it got? You really wanna know the kind of man I used to be?” His voice cracked, his fists shaking at his sides. “I ain’t that man anymore. I can’t be.”

You stared at him, your chest tight with a mix of anger and heartbreak. “I want all of you, Ony,” you whispered fiercely. “Not just the version you think I deserve. I don’t care how ugly it gets. I’m not some fragile thing you need to protect from the truth.”

He froze, shoulders slumping as he stared at you, something breaking behind his eyes. “I’m tryin’, ma,” he said hoarsely, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m tryin’ so damn hard to leave that shit behind. You don’t know what it’s like, carryin’ that with me every day. Losin’ Kev... I don’t ever want to feel that again. I don’t want you to look at me like I’m some monster.”

Your face softened, tears spilling as you stepped closer. “I’m not gonna look at you like that,” you said, your voice shaky but sure. “But I need you to trust me. I need you to stop pushing me away.”

Ony’s gaze flickered to yours, the fight finally draining out of him. He let out a long, unsteady breath and sank down onto one of the kitchen chairs, resting his elbows on his knees as he rubbed his face.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice rough. “I’m sorry I scared you back there. I just... when I saw Ricky talking to you, all I could think about was keepin’ you away from that part of my life. Away from him.”

You took a deep breath, the anger still simmering but softened by his words. “I’m not going anywhere, Ony. But you gotta stop keeping me out.”

He looked up at you then, eyes raw and vulnerable. “You deserve better than the mess I used to be.”

You stepped in front of him, taking his face in your hands and forcing him to look at you. “You’re not that man anymore,” you said softly. “I see you, Ony. I see who you are now. And I’m here because I love you—all of you.”

His expression cracked, something deep in him finally breaking free. He let out a shuddering breath, his hands sliding up to rest on your waist. “Damn, ma,” he whispered, his voice thick. “I don’t deserve you.”

You shook your head, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “Stop saying that.”

Ony’s hands tightened on your waist, his eyes holding yours. “Let me make it up to you,” he said softly, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine.

You blinked at him, breath hitching. “Ony...”

His gaze darkened, the tension between you shifting—charged and electric. Slowly, he stood up, his towering frame forcing you to tilt your chin up to keep looking at him. He leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a kiss so soft it made your knees weak.

“Please,” he murmured against your lips, his voice husky and full of promise. “Let me make it up to you, baby. I got you. Always.”

His hands slid up your sides, slow and deliberate, his touch both gentle and possessive. You melted into him, your fingers tangling in his hair as he deepened the kiss—soft and tender at first, then hungrier, like he couldn’t get close enough to you.

“Ony,” you breathed, your voice trembling as he kissed down your jaw, his lips trailing warmth along your skin.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered against your neck, his words punctuated by soft kisses. “For everything. I swear I’m gonna be better. You just gotta let me show you.”

You swallowed hard, your hands gripping his shoulders. “Show me, then.”

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his dark eyes searching yours. “I will,” he said quietly, his voice rough with emotion. “Starting right now.”

And that’s how you found yourself lying back on the bed, your body a tangled mess of need and warmth as your fiancé, lost himself in your ocean. His hands gripped your thighs with a possessive force, pulling them up and against your chest as his tongue worked in ways only he knew how to, bringing you to places you’d only ever reached with him. Every motion was deliberate, skilled—each flick, each touch of his fingers pushing you further, deeper into pleasure. His strength held you in place, leaving you no space to escape the sensations he stirred in you. His mouth, hot and insistent, tasted you, marked you, as if he couldn’t get enough, as if you were the only thing that mattered in that moment.

The pleasure became too much. Your body jerked, squirming away from the relentless skill of Ony’s tongue, but he was quicker, stronger. His grip tightened on your thighs, keeping you exactly where he wanted you. His large palm landed on the side of your thigh with a sharp smack—not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make you freeze and gasp.

“Where you think you goin’, mama?” His voice was low, husky, as he leaned up, his lips and chin glistening with your essence. His golden grills caught the light, making him look both dangerous and divine. “Why you runnin’ from me? I’m just tryna apologize.”

Your whine came out incoherent, the words caught in your throat as his dark, smoldering eyes stayed fixed on you. He towered over you now, his body an imposing figure as he crawled over you, caging you beneath him. His breath was hot against your cheek, and you stared up at him, dazed, your vision swimming with glassy tears of overwhelming bliss.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his lips pulling into that half-smile, wet and sinful. His smooth, dark skin gleamed, catching the dim light in a way that made him almost unreal, too beautiful to belong to one person alone—but he was yours. Completely yours. “So fuckin’ pretty, baby,” he praised, brushing a thumb over your cheek to catch a stray tear.

Your body trembled as he shifted, lining himself up with slow precision. Then he pushed into you, your shared groans filling the room as he sank in deep. Your fingers clutched at his shoulders, nails biting into his skin as he stretched you perfectly.

“My pretty fuckin’ wife,” he growled against your lips, his voice thick with possession and reverence.

You didn’t have the strength to reply—just a soft moan as your legs locked around his waist, anchoring him to you, letting him take you to where only he could.

The slow, deliberate roll of Ony’s hips sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, leaving you trembling beneath him. He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your temple as he whispered, “You feel so good, baby. Perfect—just for me.”

You could only moan in response, your hands sliding down his back, nails raking gently across his skin. Every movement he made was precise, deliberate, and meant to unravel you. His pace quickened, his control slipping as he pushed deeper, his grunts mixing with your cries.

“Ony,” you gasped, your voice breaking. Your legs trembled as you wrapped them tighter around his waist, desperate to feel all of him.

“I got you, mama,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. “Ain’t lettin’ go. You hear me?” His words were both grounding and intoxicating, pulling you further into the bliss he created with every stroke.

The heat built between you, your breaths turning shallow and ragged. Ony’s forehead rested against yours, his dark, hooded eyes never leaving your face. “Look at me,” he commanded softly, his voice deep and low.

Your glazed eyes fluttered open to meet his, and the intensity in his gaze made your chest tighten. “I love you,” he said suddenly, his voice raw, almost breaking.

The words hit you like a tidal wave, a sob catching in your throat. “I love you too,” you whimpered, your voice trembling as your hands cupped his face.

His lips met yours in a searing kiss, his pace growing erratic, matching the desperate beat of your heart. “You’re mine,” he growled against your lips, his movements growing sharper, deeper. “All mine.”

Your body tensed, pleasure coiling tight in your core until it finally snapped, sending shockwaves through you. Your back arched as you cried out his name, your nails digging into his shoulders.

Ony wasn’t far behind, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep, a guttural groan escaping his throat. His body shuddered against yours, his head falling to the crook of your neck as he whispered your name like a prayer.

For a while, neither of you moved, the only sounds in the room your mingled breaths and the faint rustle of the sheets. Ony’s weight was solid and grounding on top of you, his hands still gripping your thighs as though he was afraid to let go.

Finally, he shifted, pressing a gentle kiss to your collarbone before rolling to the side, pulling you with him. He tucked you into his chest, his large hand splaying across your back.

“You good, mama?” he asked softly, his lips brushing against your forehead.

“More than good,” you murmured, your voice still shaky. You tilted your head up to look at him, your heart swelling at the tenderness in his gaze. “I love you, Ony.”

“I love you more,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. He kissed you again, slow and sweet, before resting his forehead against yours.

As your breathing evened out and sleep began to tug at your senses, Ony whispered, “Ain’t nothin’ in this world I wouldn’t do for you, baby. You know that, right?”

“I know,” you replied softly, nuzzling into his chest. “And I’d do the same for you.”

The last thing you felt before drifting off was Ony’s fingers tracing lazy circles on your back, his lips pressing one last lingering kiss to your hair.

[gazemaizeisdead]

13 Pitches For Ratatouille 2 (Rata-TWO-ouille)

With the success of Inside Out 2 (now only the second-highest grossing animated film of all time after being freshly dethroned by Ne Zha 2) Pixar has announced today that Coco 2 is in development, which will follow Toy Story 5, Incredibles 3, and “Hoppers”, a promising if controversial Bugs Life spinoff (time will tell if the decision to keep Kevin Spacey on comes back to bite them).

It seems we are firmly in the second major era of Pixar sequels; at this point it’s easier to imagine the end of the world than it is to see a future devoid of Ratatouille 2 (Rata-2-ouille). To that end I have taken the liberty of inventing several fresh directions for the series to take. Brad, if you’re reading this, my schedule is extremely busy but I am willing to talk if you would like to meet with me about expanding on any of these.

Six months after La Ratatouille opens, a new restaurant across the street takes Paris by storm, run by a mysterious unknown named Bessières many are lauding as the next Gusteau. Remy doesn’t view cooking as a competitive process, and his business hasn’t been hurt at all despite a perceived rivalry in the media, but an especially positive endorsement from Ego gets him curious enough to ask that Linguini sneak him in to see what the fuss is about. Remy discovers that Bessières (Kumail Nanjiani) is actually a fellow rat chef, and strikes up a friendship with him as the first friend he’s actually been able to discuss his passion with. The situation takes a dark turn when Bessières reveals himself as a rat supremacist à la a young Malcolm X, who rejects the Gusteauian ideal that anyone can cook — in his worldview, only a rat can truly be an artist, and humans have treated their kind too poorly to be allowed to continue controlling the world. Bessières tries to raticalize Remy and enlist him in his plan to shock human society with a series of rat terrorist attacks across Paris and elevate the social position of rodentkind, but Remy resists him and narrowly manages, with the help of both his human and rat friends, to prevent Bessières from blowing up the Eiffel Tower. Remy makes a stew that’s so good that it snaps Bessières out of a hyper-realistic rat panic attack and instantly fixes his anti-human bigotry and they open a new restaurant together. No real structural changes are made to fix rat-human relations but Remy gets a cute new rat-sized oven at the end of the movie and makes Bessières a rat-sized creme brûlée and that makes them both smile

Chef Skinner returns from disgrace with a restaurant entirely staffed by robots — anything can cook, declares Skinner to mocking crowds, who change their tune when they discover that the food is just as good at anything Gusteau made in his heyday for the same price as a big mac. Critics still think it’s a joke, but the public can’t get enough of Skinner’s new concept, and he begins buying out one Parisian restaurant after another and replacing the workers with his automatons. Remy and the “rat-pack”,  a team of five diverse marketable rat-children he is training to follow his pawsteps (Awkwafina, Kenan Thompson, Jenny Ortega, Millie Bobby Brown, Chris Pratt, his last name cleverly stylized as Chris P. Ratt in promotional materials) team up to infiltrate the robo-kitchens and see if they can find a way to stop Skinner. They discover that the robots are fake and are all actually controlled by enslaved rats, whom they free. Following a rat gundam fight where a living swarm of rats battles Skinner’s ultimate machine in the Seine, Remy sacrifices himself to save the rat-pack and actually dies. Skinner goes to prison (where it is heavily implied that he will be killed and eaten by prison rats) and the rat-pack makes crepes in Remy’s honor

Emile movie. Remy and Linguini travel the world to compete in a global culinary competition while Emile accidentally joins a rat spy agency to stop an evil conglomerate from smuggling fake truffle oil into France. Remy is in this movie for six minutes and has nine lines of dialogue, Colette is unvoiced

Another rat-pack vehicle, this time with Jenny Ortega swapped out for Olivia Rodrigo, who stars as a young rat looking to make a name for herself and become Remy’s apprentice years after the events of the first film. An aged Remy has become disillusioned with cooking and lost his passion for creating after the sudden death of his rat-husband, but the rat-pack works together to help him find inspiration and learn to love food again. This is actually a sequel to the Emile movie, although Emile himself only appears partway through the movie to enjoy a short zoom call with Remy and then later to call the Chris Pratt child an extremely offensive rat-slur (which he is reclaiming, the usage is considered appropriate by the film; Linguini tries to repeat the joke later himself and is immediately cancelled by everyone)

Film based on the in-universe Gusteau documentary that inspired Remy to be a chef. A young Gusteau (digitally-recreated Anthony Bourdain) works his way through the unforgiving 1960s hellscape of French cuisine to fight for his third and final Michelin star. At first this seems like a small plot hole because in Ratatouille restaurants are able to get up to five stars but at the end of the movie Gusteau’s food is so good that the Michelin company has to change their system to add extra. First M-rated Pixar film, ties the record for second most F-bombs in any movie ever

Everything that happened in Ratatouille 1 happens again exactly as it did the first time but it takes place in Italy instead. No new characters and it’s not a reboot, it’s just the same plot in Italy, everybody remembers the first movie happened but they weren’t able to internalize the lessons they learned after they all decided to move to Italy because the train ride was very long. Remy has to once again balance his rat and human lives and Linguini finds out his Mom was secretly an Italian chef so he inherits another famous restaurant and Ego is sad again. Skinner wants it to be illegal for rats to work in restaurants, but it already is illegal at the start of the movie, so he lobbies the EU to make it legal so he can then get it made double illegal. This is also a sequel to the Emile movie, Emile farts on the pope

Three disconnected episodic interludes about Remy (Dan Castellaneta), Linguini (Phil LaMarr), Colette (Tara Strong) and the entire rat-clan learning the true meaning of Christmas. Olaf cameos in the second short as a monster chasing Remy during a hallucinogenic nightmare he has after staying up for a week straight trying to create the perfect fruitcake (only later does he realize that the only truly perfect fruitcake is the one you share with family). Disney+ exclusive

Fifteen years after the first movie, Colette’s crazy sister (Sarah Silverman) returns from her exile in Elba to try and steal the soul of Linguini and Collette’s firstborn son Bouillabaisse (Jack Black) to use in an ancient culinary ritual that will allow her to take over Paris. Remy is dead and a ghost in this movie, it’s revealed that the Gusteau he kept talking to in the first movie was NOT a figment of his imagination, that was the real Gusteau; cooks of significant skill are able to continually defer their true deaths by making tasty enough food for the grim reaper (for reasons that are only alluded to, this form of necromancy only works for the french, in a comforting throwback to the nationally-segregated afterlife system implied by Coco). This movie also touches on the themes of rat discrimination more seriously; Remy is directly compared to Rosa Parks. Remy’s great granddaughter Madeline (Zendaya) and Bouillabaisse, guided by spirit Remy, defeat Colette’s crazy sister and use the power of the culinary ritual to reveal the truth of rat society to the human public. The movie ends on a bittersweet note when it turns out that only french rats are sapient, all the other rats are just rats

Remy and Linguini reunite to battle the Underminer and his robot army and stop them from destroying the surface world and polluting the atmosphere to turn the whole planet into an artificial underground. At the end they leave the underground for the first time in the movie during the final battle and the Underminer turns good because he sees Paris and realizes that he doesn’t need to terraform the surface world because the hellish aboveground wasteland he wants already exists. 62 on metacritic

Live-action remake of Ratatouille, but instead of going the Lion King CGI abomination route this uses actual trained rats who are voiced over Milo and Otis style (in that their mouths don't move and no effort is made to sell even the illusion of this, not that 40,000 real rats are ritualistically killed during production). In order to truly echo reality all dialogue is spoken in untranslated french regardless of the version of the film you are watching, except for Emile, who only farts (though is insinuated to be farting in the same language as the viewer). The rats constantly pee on everything just like real rats though this is never acknowledged. The Grammy and Annie award-winning songs "Le Festin", "Colette Shows Him Le Ropes", "Dinner Rush", and "Ratatouille Main Theme" do not feature (save for the trailer and brief EDM remixes of their motifs during the end credit blooper segments where we get to see all the silly mistakes the rat actors made during filming!) and are replaced with silence and sad coughing sounds. No rats are harmed in the making of this film but many many french people are

Followup to the live-action remake, Remy's dad Django prequel movie. IntergeneRATional trauma movie through the frame of a friend of Remy's Dad, Git (that one super fucking buff rat running around in the kitchen during the scene where they're stealing, you know the one) recounting the story to Remy and Emile shortly post-Ratatouille after they have a fight and decide they can't be brothers anymore. It is pointed out that Remy is a prince; the subtle implication that Remy grew up in Anton Ego's childhood home and was able to cook a meal that so perfectly matched his nostalgic preferences because he learned to cook using the same books and techniques as his mother is made explicit here, making the original movie much better and more cohesive as a result. We learn that Django actually had dreams of being a chef himself as a young rat and was friends with little Ego (Seth Green). Remy and Emile interrupt the central narrative multiple times throughout the story with witty banter and wacky interjections. Halfway into it after the tragic misunderstanding scene where Django only overhears Ego says that he's sick of rats (he leaves the room before hearing the -atouille) Emile points out that Git's story doesn't make any sense because rats only live for 1/35th the human lifespan and Ego and Django couldn't have been childhood friends. Blood instantly starts running from Git's nose before he collapses and dies and Remy and Emile realize that Chef Skinner has manipulated their entire lives through his magic time machine. The brothers work together to fix the timeline and even manage to save Gusteau, who we learn was murdered by Chef Skinner; but Skinner was only a puppet (literally!) of an evil future version of Remy who Remy himself defeats in "Rat Combat". For as well as this works as a thematic climax, the weaknesses of the trained rat conceit do begin to reveal themselves during the final fight scenes when so many crusted dribblings of rat piss and shit accumulate in the Skinner's actor's hair and eyebrows that he's unable to stop crying for the entire segment

Romcom Toy Story crossover in the style of "Guess Who's Coming to Dinner" where Remy falls in love with a stuffed toy rat. Django and the toy's adoptive parents (a Pet Rock and a 2nd generation Tamagotchi, who had faced parallel discrimination themselves in their youth but don't see it as equivalent to what their son is doing) eventually do give up their bigoted ways but the relationship falls apart anyway during the same night due to Remy's obsession with his career. Heavily marketed as featuring Pixar's last LGBT character

Low stakes fanservice vibe sequel where the rats and humans work together to put on dinner theater at La Ratatouille (they do Madame Bovary, Colette reluctantly stars but kills it, Emile is forced to control Linguini for all his scenes after he has a panic attack and faints and does just as good of a job). This one is also an Emile movie but it's stealthy about it. Also a jukebox musical

[luvsupa]

TRICK-WHORE-TREAT!

summary: do NOT fuck summon the insanely hot curse, sukuna.

tags: trueform!sukuna x fem!reader, modern day, pwp, smut (p in v), ōral sex (f!recieving), food (candy) play, sukuna has two dicks, he’s a bully, petnames, dumbification, etc. mdni.

w.c: 2.7k

a/n: HAPPY HALLOWEEN GUYS 🧡🧡 IM SOO HAPPY THAT YOU ALL HAVE BEEN FOLLOWING W MY KINKTOBEER MWAAA!!! lowkey sad it’s done but ENJOYYY 🧡

kinktober masterlist

“the hell’s that?” you ask, stepping into the livingroom after finishing up your nightly skincare routine. tonight, it’s just you and your friends mina and sage, skipping every halloween party to hang out together . you’ve all stocked up on snacks and horror games to keep yourselves entertained.

“no clue, got it off some marketplace—thing was dirt cheap,” sage shrugs, holding up an ancient, dusty book that looks like it’s been around since the dawn of time. you step closer as sage hands over the grimy thing, flipping the first page and frowning at the unreadable text.

“this is the dumbest shit ever, we can’t even read it,” you mutter, slamming the book shut as dust fills the air, making you gag. but something about it still piques your interest, so mina does a quick search and manages to decode some of the ancient alphabet, translating the words:

RYOMEN SUKUNA, KING OF CURSES.

SEALED AWAY BY: GOJO CLAN.

DO NOT SUMMON.

you nearly lose it at the dramatic warning. a king of curses sealed up in a ten-dollar marketplace relic? yeah, super scary.

“so, this is like…a bootleg ouija board?” mina asks, clutching your cat, coco, for comfort. you drop the book onto the coffee table with a snort as you and sage crack it open again, flipping through each creaking page. mina pulls your cat tighter as it hisses, clearly over her nerves. as you dig through the pages, you find some ridiculous official chant,

“ryomen sukuna, king of curses, awaken now. break from the seal, emerge from the night.”

you and sage recite it over and over, while mina shuts her eyes like you’re actually summoning something worth fearing.

“lame ass book,” you scoff, tossing it behind you, where it lands with a dull thud on the carpet. after that, you grab the other games you brought for the night, and the three of you dive into a marathon of competitive chaos, yelling and laughing until your voices are hoarse. hours slip by, and between the endless rounds and maybe a bit too much snacking, exhaustion starts to sink in.

“gooood nighttt,” you all mumble sleepily as you collapse, deciding to let mina and sage take the bed while you settle onto the makeshift floor bed. you don’t mind the floor—anything for them.

soon enough, silence fills the room, but in the dead of night, a sudden blast of wind slips under the door, rattling it hard enough to shake you awake. your eyes blink open, heavy with sleep, as a strange light spills through the door’s cracks. did you really forget to turn the lights off?

you tap your phone and squint at the screen, 3:27 AM. you groan softly, realizing you’ve barely slept an hour before the cool wins wakes you. maybe you left the window open?

rising from your makeshift bed, you glance over at sage and mina, fast asleep, curled up with your stuffed animals. you tiptoe toward the door, gently easing it open. you nearly yelp when coco, your cat, slips past you and pads silently toward the living room, ignoring your whispered calls as you follow her.

you freeze when coco hops up into a lap—a man’s lap.

your gaze slowly travels up the figure sitting casually on your couch. in the dim light, you can’t fully make out his features, but you catch glimpses—dark, muscular limbs, and the glint of red eyes that pierce through the shadows. coco purrs contentedly in his lap, her small body relaxed as he strokes her fur with a disturbingly gentle touch.

“c-coco…?” your voice is barely a whisper, each syllable shaky as dread knots in your stomach. as your eyes adjust, you realize he has…more than two arms. two extra limbs drape over the couch, relaxed and disturbingly still.

“coco?” he chuckles darkly, voice rich and deep, cutting through the silence. “show respect, peasant.”

a chill races down your spine. his voice carries a weight that sinks into your bones, making you want to shrink back. he cradles coco close to his chest, his other hands moving with unnatural grace, almost possessively, as if she were his own.

“such a precious creature…i’ve missed having a pet in my kingdom.” he speaks slowly, each word dragging, drawing you further into his presence. kingdom? a sinking feeling tightens your chest as your eyes flick to the spot where you’d tossed that cheap book…now gone.

you edge toward the light switch, hand shaking as you flip it on. what you see makes your heart plummet.

he sprawls on the couch with a lazy, terrifying ease, two extra arms draped like they belong there, his legs spread wide in dark, traditional robes, your small cat nestled comfortably in one of his enormous hands. as your eyes trail up, you catch the tattoos winding over his skin, tracing ancient patterns that seem to pulse. then you see them—two extra eyes, fixed on you, gleaming with an unearthly red glow.

“s-sukuna?” you breathe, recognition dawning as your mind replays the cursed illustrations from the book. your stomach twists. you’ve summoned him. his head lifts, and his eyes lock onto yours—four intense, ruby orbs that make you feel like prey.

slowly, sukuna rises from the couch, his towering frame unfolding to its full, monstrous height. his head nearly brushes the ceiling, his presence filling the room, suffocating. he steps closer, holding coco in one hand while his other arms hang back, giving him an unnervingly calm stance as he approaches. you’re trembling, pinned in place by the dark weight of his gaze.

“woman, your scent…” his voice lowers, rough and insistent, as he gently places coco on the ground. she slinks off, disappearing into the shadows as his eyes never leave yours. “…it’s clouding my mind.”

a sharp heat flares through you, fear mingling with something darker. without thinking, you press your thighs together, shocked by the rush of sensation that shouldn’t be there, not with this terrifying creature towering over you. you back away slowly, unable to break eye contact, until you feel the wall press against your back.

“tell me,” he purrs, a mocking smirk curling his lips as he steps into your space, trapping you between the wall and the solid, overwhelming force of him. “isn’t it pathetic…getting all worked up for a ‘lame ass’ like me?” he taunts, voice dark and dangerous. you swallow hard, realizing he heard every insult, every careless word about him and that “cheap ass book.”

“not my fault that book was less than ten bucks,” you snap back, defiance flickering up despite the fear pressing down on you. you’re not sure where the courage comes from, but you hold his gaze.

his chuckle is a low, rumbling sound, his red eyes burning into you. your gaze dips down, lingering on the sculpted lines of his abdomen under his robe, catching on the hard outline beneath the fabric.

the sick fucker was turned on too.

he’s probably more turned on than you, and it’s beyond obvious as he has you folded in half on the couch, your legs painfully stretched back, feet nearly reaching past your head. two of his hands pin your thighs down with a grip that feels bruising, while his other two cradle the backs of your inner thighs, spreading you open with no mercy. his tongue, impossibly long and sinfully thick, reaches deep, curling once it finds that sweet spot that makes you cry out. your eyes flutter as you fight to stay conscious, catching a glimpse of his face twisted in raw, desperate need. when one of his eyes meets yours, a spark of dark hunger flickers within his piercing gaze, sending a shiver through your entire body.

your walls clamp around his tongue as he plunges even deeper, hitting places that make your breath hitch. “m-more,” you moan, voice needy and broken, completely lost in him. his lips curl into a smirk against you, and he lets you grind into his mouth, allowing you to lose yourself in the pleasure. without you realizing, sukuna reaches for something on the table—a bottle of thick blue syrup, something new he’s been itching to try on you.

your eyes roll back when you feel the cool syrup drizzle onto your swollen, sensitive folds, and you gasp, watching as the blue liquid glistens against your flushed skin, sliding down to coat every inch. sukuna’s grip tightens, pressing your legs further down, holding you in the filthiest position imaginable. he takes his time, squeezing ever sticky drop from the bottle as it pools on your clit, mixing with your arousal and slowly dripping lower, reaching your entrance. his tongue pulls away just enough for him to admire the mess he’s made, eyes gleaming with satisfaction at the way the syrup clings to your needy, twitching cunt.

then, without warning, his mouth is back on you, his tongue dives in, lapping up the syrup in messy, hungry strokes. the taste of blue raspberry mixes with your own sweetness, driving him wild, and he groans deeply as he sloppily devours you. his lips stain blue, and he doesn’t care; he’s making out with your cunt like he’s starved for it, sucking hard on your clit until your mind spins. you feel the gentle scrape of his fangs against your sensitive skin, and the pressure builds as he tugs and pulls, drawing out every bit of sensation he can, his mouth relentless and filthy as he drives you past the edge.

his grip tightens on your legs, pressing them even further down as he spreads you wider, eyes locked onto the sight in front of him. he lets his tongue swirl over your clit, catching the sticky syrup with sloppy, hungry strokes. “look at you,” he groans between licks. “soaked and covered in candy like my own personal treat.” he chuckles darkly, lips stained blue as he smears the syrup messily around your swollen, twitching folds.

“‘kuna, jus’ fuck me already,” you whine, voice thick with impatience. you’ve never felt this desperate, and your gaze keeps drifting down to the thick bulge pressing against his robe. all four of sukuna’s ruby eyes narrow, and he lets out a low, mocking chuckle, clearly taken aback by your demand.

“you think you can boss me around, huh?” he taunts, his grip tightening on your chin as he taps your lips, silently demanding you open your mouth. the moment you part your lips, he spits a thick wad of saliva right onto your tongue. you swallow it instantly, almost embarrassingly eager. he grins down at you, his expression twisted with amusement, and gives your cheek a few light taps. “so nasty… and here i thought you had some dignity.”

in a swift motion he pulls you into his lap, forcing your thighs to spread over his muscular legs. when did he even take off his pants? you barely have time to process it as you feel the heat radiating from him, and your eyes drop to the bulge under his robe.

“you want it so bad?” he sneers, pushing you back with a rough shove. “prove it. since you think you’re in charge, you’re gonna work for it.” he unties his robe with a calculated slowness, letting it slip open. your eyes widen, breath catching at the sight of not one, but two thick, throbbing cocks, pre-cum dripping from both angry red tips, veins snaking along their length. and on his stomach, a grinning mouth, twisted and sinister, completes the terrifying sight.

“what’s wrong? too much for you?” he laughs, watching as your jaw drops, taking in every inch of him. “thought you wanted to act all big and baaad.” his eyes flash as he jerks his hips up, rubbing his tips against your soaked entrance. “go on then. ride me… let’s see if you can keep up, princess.”

“t-two? are you insane?” you gasp, eyes locked on his monstrous cocks, both thick and throbbing as they twitch under his dark gaze. sukuna just smirks, his hand wrapping around one shaft, tapping the flushed, swollen tip against your clit. each soft thud electrifies you, your body jolting with each contact as you slump against his chest, barely able to hold yourself up.

“c’monnn, where’d all that attitude go?” he sneers, flicking your forehead as a warning. the sting makes you wince, and he’s already impatient, lifting your hips with two large hands, positioning you right over his leaking tip. you can barely breathe as you look down, staring at how massive he is. there’s no way you can take all of him—but he’s clearly planning to fit both.

you cry out as he sinks you down onto his first cock, stretching you open in one brutal thrust. your eyes widen, feeling every thick inch filling you to the brim, your walls straining around him, slick and achy. glancing down, you can see the bulge forming where he’s stuffed so deep inside.

sukuna chuckles lowly, a dark, mocking sound that reverberates through your body as his hands roam your hips, patting your head in a twisted kind of praise. “not so tough now, huh?” he taunts, his voice thick with satisfaction as he watches you struggle to take him. you’re utterly stuffed, thighs trembling, mind swimming, and he’s just getting started.

he groans when he feels your walls flutter around him, clenching tighter as his hands move down to your ass, squeezing the flesh hard enough to leave bruises. you moan brokenly, and he smirks, thrusting up with sharp, brutal snaps of his hips. each thrust sends squelching, messy sounds echoing in the room, your arousal spraying out, slicking his abs and thighs. you’re a mess, head lolling against his shoulder as the filthy noises fill your ears, lewd and obscene.

“thereee we go, brat… ‘m right here,” he drawls, one hand pressing down on the bulge in your lower stomach, making you sob. his thrusts grow rougher, inhuman, skin slapping against skin as the couch creaks under the weight of his assault. every time he drives into you, your juices squelch and spray, drenching both of you in a mix of sweat and slick.

“imagine what your friends would think of you,” he growls, voice thick with lust, “getting fucked like a dirty little slut by a demon.” his words make you whimper, panic flashing in your mind at the thought of being caught. but it only fuels him, watching your pathetic, broken reactions as his cock slams relentlessly against your cervix.

then, you feel something warm and slimy flick over your clit, making your eyes snap open. you look down, horrified and aroused, to see a mouth on his stomach, tongue lapping hungrily at your swollen nub. you sob, grinding your hips down, desperate for any kind of release as his mouth devours your sensitive bud.

his cock throbs as he nears his climax, driven crazy by your whimpers and the way your walls cling to him, squeezing him tighter with every thrust. his pace becomes erratic, desperate, hips snapping up harder and faster, both of you teetering on the edge. “fuckkk,” he groans, voice rough, his brow furrowing as he loses control, thrusting sloppily as he chases his own release.

with one last brutal thrust, he spills hot and thick inside you, his cum flooding your insides, filling you up as you shudder and release with him. your essence sprays out, slicking his stomach and thighs, a messy mix of cum and arousal coating everything. his stomach tongue laps up every bit of you, greedily sucking up the slick mess. your body goes limp, utterly spent, as your head falls to his chest, lulled by the rhythm of his heartbeat and the warm stickiness between your thighs.

without a word, you two stay exactly where you are, not moving an inch as you keep clenching around his shaft. his fingers idly play with your hair, lulling you toward sleep when—

“what the fuck is going on?”

your eyes fly open, and you turn to see your friends standing in the living room, eyes wide and mouths hanging open as they stare at the two of you.

how in the hell are you going to explain this…

[skzdelf]

Brought The Heat Back

─── : ̗̀➛ SUMMARY: Your monotonous routine takes an unexpected turn when a mysterious pink-haired boy and his fast red car cross your path.

⭑.ᐟ ⇢ ˗ˏˋLEE HEESEUNG (이희승) X READER࿐ྂ I ( wc 5573) racer!heeseung teasing romance fluff/cute content suggestive content

The night shift at the café wasn’t your favorite, yet it was the one you were most often assigned to—unfortunately.

Not only did you have to deal with rude customers in the afternoon, but you also had to clean up the mess they left behind and make sure everything was spotless so the morning shift could open without a hitch. All they had to do was unlock the doors; everything would already be in its place, thanks to you.

Your two other coworkers would leave the moment they saw no more customers coming in, abandoning you completely alone.

As you scrubbed the wooden tables, wiping away stubborn coffee stains, you glanced through the café’s large windows.

The wide, gloomy avenue where the café was located was dimly lit by scattered streetlights. A few people hurried down the sidewalks, eager to get home after a long workday, most likely to be greeted warmly by their families.

Having a family was what you envied most about others. After your long shifts, no one was waiting for you at home with a steaming homemade meal or a comforting embrace.

The closest thing you had to family was a dog you had adopted a few months ago. You had found him wandering the streets one night on your way home from work. The poor thing had been filthy and terrified, but he quickly warmed up to you, always showing immense gratitude.

The little furball would greet you with overwhelming excitement, wagging his tail and rolling onto his back for belly rubs. After that, he’d dash to his food bowl, demanding dinner. No matter how tough your day had been, he always managed to bring a smile to your face.

The café was finally spotless—tables gleamed, floors shone, coffee supplies were neatly organized, machines were spotless and dry, disposable cups were stacked in a corner, and the cash register was securely closed.

The café’s lights flickered off behind you as you quickly locked the door, not forgetting to set the alarm. Adjusting your bag strap over your shoulder, you stepped onto the deserted avenue, the sound of your footsteps echoing against the pavement.

You kept your eyes fixed on the ground, clutching your bag tightly, until a thunderous noise shattered the night’s silence. A powerful engine roar rumbled from the top of the street, making you snap your head up.

Two sports cars tore through the empty avenue at a reckless speed. One was black, the other red, both gliding like shadows under the streetlights. From the red car, deafening music blasted, shaking the windows of the parked cars around.

Suddenly, the driver of the red car turned his head slightly toward you and, without slowing down, called out with an exhilarated laugh:

“Hey, gorgeous!”

His voice, dripping with adrenaline, was swallowed by the roar of the engine and the pounding music as his car sped down the street. You didn’t even have time to react—just a split second to process what had happened before both cars vanished into the distance, leaving behind the lingering echoes of their engines and the sharp scent of burnt rubber.

The street fell back into an eerie silence, as if nothing had happened. Yet, your heart was still racing.

You hadn’t managed to see the face of the bold stranger who had shouted at you. The only thing you caught was a flash of bright pink hair—an unusual color for someone to have.

When you finally reached your apartment, tiny barks greeted you, filled with boundless joy. Your home, bathed in nighttime darkness, felt quieter than ever.

You weren’t in the mood to cook anything at that hour, so you scooped up little Coco in your arms and carried him to your room, placing him on your bed. He curled into a ball almost instantly.

Heading to the bathroom, you gently removed your makeup with a cotton pad, careful not to irritate your eyes. Your nighttime routine was always the same—remove makeup, brush your teeth, do your skincare, and go to bed with your loyal companion.

Your days were always the same, monotonous and repetitive. The only thing that changed was the customers you served at the café. But at the end of the day, the only one who was truly there for you was Coco.

Another day at the café, filled with rude customers—though some weren’t so bad. It was around five-thirty in the afternoon, and today, you were behind the counter preparing coffee instead of working the cash register, where people would toss their money at you as if they couldn’t care less. Or worse, those who, after you patiently explained five times that what they were asking for wasn’t on the menu, would get angry and start yelling at you, as if it were somehow your fault—all while you were just a simple employee.

You sighed in frustration as you finished making a macchiato to go, carefully placing the lid on the white disposable cup to prevent any spills. Then, you walked over to the pickup counter, where a few customers were waiting.

“Heeseung?” you called out, reading the name written on the cup. You set it down on the counter and reached under it to grab two small sugar packets, placing them next to the coffee.

“That’s me, thanks” a man’s voice responded in front of you. He took his order along with the sugar packets, and you went back to work without paying him much attention.

But then, the same voice called out to you again from behind.

“Could I get another sugar packet?” the guy asked.

You didn’t respond, simply grabbed another packet along with a small wooden stir stick—which you had forgotten to give him earlier—so he could mix the sugar into his coffee.

As you returned to the pickup counter, you extended your hand toward him, lifting your gaze in the process.

Standing in front of you was a guy around your age, or maybe a few years older. His eyes were framed by smudged black eyeliner, as if he had rubbed them to blend it out. He was handsome, with striking facial features and a tall frame—but what stood out the most was his hair.

His hair was pink.

In your twenty years of living in the city, you had never seen anyone with that hair color before. And if someone had it, they definitely wouldn’t go unnoticed.

It didn’t take much to put two and two together—this had to be the same guy who had sped past you in his red car last night, shouting “gorgeous” as he disappeared down the avenue.

It was also pretty obvious that he had only called out to you because he was bold and reckless. He didn’t seem to recognize you—or maybe he just didn’t care. But that was unlikely, considering how dark it had been last night and how fast he had been driving. There was no way he could have actually seen your face.

At least now, the shameless guy had both a face and a name—Heeseung.

The rest of the afternoon at the café wasn’t as hectic as usual. The usual rush had its moments, but nothing too overwhelming. You had managed to keep up with the orders without too many customers being unnecessarily rude or impatient. That alone felt like a small victory.

That was until one particular incident disrupted the relative peace.

You were wiping down the counter when a loud clatter startled you. You snapped your head in the direction of the noise just in time to see a customer stumbling back, their coffee splattered all over the floor. The disposable cup rolled across the tiles, leaving a messy trail of liquid in its wake.

The man—who had been too distracted looking at his phone—had walked straight into the edge of a table, making the hot coffee spill all over his shirt and the floor beneath him.

"Shit" he hissed, shaking his hands as if that would somehow undo the damage.

You quickly grabbed a mop and a roll of paper towels, already dreading the cleanup.

"Are you okay, sir?" you asked, glancing at his soaked shirt.

His frustration was evident, though he seemed more annoyed than in pain. "No, I’m not! Look at this mess!" he barked, gesturing at his ruined shirt as if it were somehow your fault.

You suppressed a sigh and forced a polite smile. "I can get you some napkins. There’s also a restroom right over there if you need to clean up."

But instead of appreciating the help, he scoffed. "That’s not what I need! I need a new coffee. For free."

You blinked. "Sir, I’m sorry, but I can’t give out free replacements unless it was a mistake on our end."

"It wasn’t my fault!" he snapped. "That table was in the way!"

You clenched your jaw. The table had been there all day, unmoved. It wasn’t as if it had suddenly appeared out of nowhere just to trip him up. But you knew better than to argue with a customer like this.

"I’m really sorry, but I can’t do that" you repeated, keeping your voice steady.

His face twisted in anger. "This is bullshit. You should at least take responsibility. What kind of place is this?"

At this point, a few customers were glancing over, their curiosity piqued by the commotion. Your patience was wearing thin, but you still tried to remain professional. "If you’d like, I can offer you a discount on a new drink" you suggested, hoping to de-escalate the situation.

But he scoffed again, shaking his head. "Forget it" he muttered, throwing the soaked napkins onto the table before storming out of the café.

You exhaled slowly, gripping the mop handle a little too tightly.

After cleaning up the mess—both the spilled coffee and the lingering tension from the encounter—you focused on finishing your shift. The rest of the evening went by without much trouble. You wiped down the counters, stacked the cups, ensured all the machines were cleaned and powered down, and finally locked up the café.

But the frustration still clung to you like a second skin.

Instead of heading straight home, you made a sudden decision.

You needed a drink.

A real drink.

So, instead of walking in the usual direction toward your apartment, you turned down a different street, heading toward a bar you had passed by countless times but had never actually stepped into.

The neon sign above the entrance flickered slightly, casting a soft glow on the pavement. The hum of music seeped through the walls, promising a temporary escape from reality.

As you pushed the door open, you were greeted by the low buzz of conversations, the occasional clink of glasses, and the faint scent of liquor and citrus. The atmosphere was a mix of lively and relaxed—exactly what you needed.

You slid onto a barstool and exhaled, finally allowing yourself to let go of the stress from earlier.

A bartender, a woman with short dark hair and a knowing smile, approached. "Rough day?" she asked, wiping down the counter in front of you.

"You have no idea," you muttered, resting your elbows on the bar.

She chuckled. "Well, in that case, what’ll it be?"

You thought for a moment before deciding. "Something strong."

The bartender nodded in understanding. "Coming right up."

As you waited for your drink, you let yourself relax for the first time that evening. The café, the rude customer, the endless routine of your days—it all felt distant now, drowned out by the steady rhythm of the music and the comforting anonymity of the bar.

For once, you weren’t just the tired barista at the café.

You were just another person in a bar, looking for a moment of peace.

Peace that was quickly interrupted by a guy who sat on the barstool beside you. He watched you from above as you took a sip of the drink the short-haired girl had prepared for you—a strong yet sweet mix that spread over your tongue and left its warmth down your throat.

"I heard you had a bad day," the guy beside you started what seemed to be a friendly conversation. Not that you really cared. You had come here to unwind and leave the day behind, not with the intention of going home with company for an even better time. But there was no harm in talking to someone who, for the first time in days, actually seemed nice to you.

"Yeah, working in a café isn’t as easy as it sounds, no matter how silly that may seem" you replied, your gaze fixed on your hand as you swirled your glass in slow circles, watching the liquid move along with it.

"I worked in one once. Quit after a month" the guy said, his rough voice carrying an amused tone. You found it funny, letting out a small chuckle, almost like a huff.

"And what do you do now?" you asked, finally lifting your eyes to look at him.

The guy in front of you had an imposing presence, nearly impossible to ignore. His straight black hair, slightly messy, framed his sharp features and intense eyes that seemed almost hypnotic. His pale skin contrasted against his dark and rebellious style, further enhancing his aura of danger and mystery.

One detail stood out in particular: a piercing on his eyebrow, a small metallic ring gleaming under the dim bar lights, adding an extra bold touch to his look.

His outfit was just as striking. He wore a sleeveless black leather jacket, adorned with patches and bold lettering, including a noticeable tag with white text and the name of a well-known brand. Underneath, he had on a black graphic T-shirt with sharp, jagged lettering and prints that screamed rock or metal culture.

He leaned against the bar, resting both elbows on the surface, tilting slightly toward you as if what he was about to say was a secret meant only for the two of you.

"I take part in illegal street races" he whispered, a smirk curling onto his pale lips, his eyes narrowing slightly with amusement.

Your expression must have been entertaining to him because, suddenly, he let out a deep, rich laugh, pulling back to his original position, still grinning.

"I don't believe you, you're playing with me," was your response to his laughter. The guy was definitely messing with you. The city was quiet, and you had never heard of these races. Although, it made sense that you hadn’t since they were illegal, meaning no one openly talked about them if they were involved.

"You really don't believe me?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and looking in your direction with an amused expression.

You quickly shook your head, finishing the last of your drink and placing the glass back on the bar.

"I'm going to show you, then." His tone was challenging, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice, as if he was enjoying the idea of proving you wrong.

"You'll have to get up, sweetheart," he added with a half-smile as he stood up and grabbed his keys from his jacket.

You stared at him for a few seconds, evaluating whether following him was really a good idea. You didn’t know him, and the last thing you wanted was to end up in a compromising situation. However, there was something about his attitude, the confidence with which he carried himself, that made you feel he wasn’t just showing off.

And before you knew it, you had already left your stool and were standing in front of him. You rolled your eyes—more at yourself than at him—and let out a sigh before grabbing your bag.

Outside, the night air had cooled since you arrived, and the streets were quiet, with only a few people walking along the sidewalk and the occasional car passing by. The guy pulled a small remote from his pocket and pressed a button.

A few meters away, a black car with white details lit up as its headlights flashed and let out a soft beep. This wasn’t just any car. Its aggressive design, rear spoiler, and aerodynamic features made it clear that it was built for speed.

"Get in," he said, opening the passenger door for you, his hand resting on the frame, effectively trapping you between his body and the car.

"Do you seriously expect me to just get in like that?" you looked up at him, tilting your head back slightly to meet his gaze. The guy was nearly a head taller than you.

"If you really wanted to leave, you would've done it already," he replied with a shrug, a smug smile spreading across his face.

You didn’t have a good comeback for that. So, with one last sigh, you got into the car, immediately noticing the scent of leather and gasoline mixed with a faint hint of his cologne.

When he settled into the driver’s seat and turned on the engine, a deep roar filled the air, vibrating through your chest. He glanced at you with a knowing look before stepping on the accelerator.

They sped down the street like lightning, the guy clearly intending to give you a taste of what a real race felt like. With your eyes wide open from the fear of crashing into another car, you turned to look at him, but he kept his gaze fixed on the road, a wide smirk on his face.

With your right hand, you gripped the car door tightly, fearing for your life—and, even though you didn’t know him, for your companion’s life as well. The slight buzz from the alcohol had completely left your system the moment the car took off, replaced by a mix of euphoria, adrenaline, and fear.

"I'm going to die at the hands of someone whose name I don’t even know," you shouted over the deafening roar of the engine, faking a melodramatic sob while keeping a tight grip on the handle and your eyes glued to the road ahead.

"You're not going to die, idiot," the guy replied beside you, letting out a scoff, as if your lack of trust in him—a total stranger, mind you—actually offended him. "And my name is NIKI."

The roar of the engine and the speed at which the car glided through the streets made your heart pound wildly. Niki seemed completely in his element, his hands steady on the wheel and an almost exhilarated look in his eyes as he drove.

With every sharp turn and acceleration, the city faded away. The concrete buildings and neon lights disappeared, replaced by darker roads surrounded by trees and empty lots. You realized he was heading toward the outskirts, far from any busy area.

Finally, after several minutes of intense driving, the road opened up into a wide clearing. The lights of other cars illuminated the area, and the sound of engines roaring filled the air. You had arrived at the underground racing meetup Niki had mentioned.

The place was packed with people. Some were gathered in groups, chatting and laughing, while others were checking their cars, making last-minute adjustments before the next race. The atmosphere was electric, charged with anticipation and adrenaline.

Niki parked his car in one of the rows and turned off the engine. He turned to you with an amused smile.

"See? You didn’t die," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, adjusting his jacket as he glanced at you.

You rolled your eyes and let out a sigh, though deep down, you couldn’t ignore the thrill you felt.

"What now?" you asked, looking around through the tinted windows of the car.

"Now, we have even more fun," he replied, stepping out.

You got out cautiously, immediately feeling the curious stares of some people on you. It wasn’t hard to tell you were new here—everyone seemed to know each other.

You walked beside Niki as he greeted several people with nods and smirks. Apparently, he was well-known in this scene. As you followed him, your eyes scanned the area, taking in every car and person within sight.

At one point, your gaze landed on a familiar figure just a few meters away.

Your heart did a small flip as you recognized him. He was leaning against a red car, arms crossed over his chest, looking relaxed. He wore a leather jacket and dark jeans with some hand-drawn and painted designs, his pinkish hair slightly tousled by the wind.

There, just a few meters away from you, was Heeseung. It seemed like fate had suddenly placed him in your orbit, making you run into him everywhere.

Your eyes met, and for a moment, you saw one of his eyebrows lift slightly, as if surprised to see you there, as if he somehow recognized you.

Niki noticed the interaction and let out a low chuckle.

"Well, well, looks like you already know someone here," he remarked, slightly surprised, after finishing his conversation with a blond-haired guy.

You didn’t respond immediately. Instead, you kept watching Heeseung as he finally pushed himself off the car—his, apparently—and started walking toward you.

When he got close enough, he tilted his head slightly and gave you a small smirk.

"I think I know you, and yet, I’ve never seen you here before" he said playfully, looking down at you with a slight tilt of his head.

"I served you your coffee today" you replied with a polite smile subtly drawn on your face.

Niki looked between the two of you with a knowing smile.

"So, this is the café you were complaining about a few hours ago?" Niki stood beside you, crossing his arms and running his tongue over the inside of his cheek, receiving a nod from you in response.

Heeseung kept his gaze on you for a few seconds before shifting his attention to Niki.

"Did you bring her here?" his eyes flicked to the black-haired boy beside you, one of his eyebrows arching slightly in question.

"Isn't it obvious, man?" Niki responded incredulously, draping one arm over your shoulders and pulling you close to him.

The unexpected gesture made your cheeks automatically flush red. The guy didn't even know you, yet he was hugging you so confidently that it was overwhelming. Was he… trying to mark his territory?

Heeseung let out a small chuckle before shaking his head slightly. Then, he looked at you once more, as if evaluating your reaction to everything that was happening.

"What was your name again?" Niki asked for the first time that night. You looked at him with obvious disbelief and removed his arm from your shoulders.

"My name is Y/N. It's the first time you’re actually asking" you responded to the boy. The pink-haired guy let out a laugh, drawing both of your attention to him.

"The race is about to start in a few minutes. I hope you don't chicken out this time since you have a guest" Heeseung glanced at you briefly with a nod.

Just when the tension between the three of you seemed to rise, a blaring sound shattered the atmosphere.

The echo of police sirens rang through the air, and as if someone had flipped a switch, chaos erupted.

Red and blue lights flashed between the cars, reflecting off the sleek paint of every parked vehicle. The crowd panicked; some ran to their cars to flee, while others simply disappeared into the darkness of the night. Shouts, roaring engines, and screeching tires blended together, turning the scene into utter disorder.

Niki, who had seemed so confident and relaxed just moments ago, cursed under his breath and, without thinking twice, bolted, disappearing into the chaos without even glancing back at you.

"Are you serious?!" you exclaimed, stunned to see him vanish just like that.

Before you could move, you felt a firm hand wrap around your wrist.

"Come with me, Y/N!"

Heeseung’s tone left no room for hesitation. He pulled you with force, guiding you through the crowd with surprising precision, dodging people who were running in all directions. Your heart pounded wildly, both from the adrenaline and the uncertainty of not knowing where he was taking you.

Without letting go of your wrist for a second, Heeseung led you straight to his car—an elegant, flashy red vehicle that looked built for speed.

"Get in!" he ordered, already settling into the driver’s seat and starting the engine with a deafening roar.

You didn’t have time to hesitate. As soon as you jumped into the passenger seat and shut the door, the car shot forward at full speed, leaving behind the noise and sirens.

The wind whipped against your face as the nighttime scenery blurred into streaks of colorful lights. Heeseung drove with mastery, weaving through streets and taking sharp turns with impressive precision.

"Do you always do this?" you managed to ask, your breath still uneven.

Heeseung let out a short laugh, keeping his eyes on the road.

"Escaping? It doesn't happen too often, but sometimes we have to switch spots when we get caught" he explained, clearly referring to the police. His gaze remained fixed on the road, hands gripping the wheel tightly from the tension of the situation.

His words lingered in the air as the two of you drove further from the chaos, the city stretching out before you like an endless, lawless playground.

Silence filled the confined space of Heeseung’s racing car. Now that you were back in the city, he had slowed down, though at this hour, the streets were practically deserted. The pink-haired boy, his cheeks still slightly flushed from the rush, was focused on navigating different streets while you stared out the window at the towering buildings.

"Where are we going, Heeseung?" you murmured, exhaustion creeping into your voice. It was late, and whatever little alcohol you had consumed had long since faded from your system.

"For some food. I feel bad that Niki dragged you into this, so it's on me."

"It's really not necessary. Don't worry about me" you said, turning to look at him. Your gaze met his, catching him already glancing at you from the corner of his eye. His dark, lined eyes made him look even more alluring in that moment.

Heeseung didn’t reply and simply kept driving. A few minutes later, he pulled up in front of a small convenience store that, except for the employee working inside, was completely empty.

Walking through the aisles of the tiny store, you reluctantly grabbed a pink-packaged ramen and a bottle of water. After picking up your drink from the fridge, you turned to find Heeseung—only to see him holding an absurd amount of snacks: several bags of chips, an instant ramen bowl, a cup of ice, and an energy drink.

You laughed at the sight before you. The guy, who had such a sexy aura, looked so endearing and almost vulnerable in that moment, standing in the middle of a convenience store.

After insisting for a while that he would pay for everything, you both took a seat at the small tables near the window. Your steaming bowls of ramen sat on the table as you ate in comfortable silence, both lost in thought about how the night had led you to this moment.

"Do you wanna try?" Heeseung’s question caught you off guard, pulling you out of your thoughts.

The boy held a bit of his ramen between his wooden chopsticks, carefully bringing it close to you, gently blowing on it to make sure it wasn’t too hot.

You stared at him for a moment before leaning in, slowly bringing your lips toward the food he was offering. The warmth of the ramen filled the air, and there was a tenderness in his gesture that you hadn’t expected from someone who, just hours ago, had been racing through the streets, evading the police.

Parting your lips slightly, you took the bite, letting the intense flavors fill your mouth. It was delicious, but beyond that, what made your heart race was the way Heeseung was watching you.

His gaze remained locked on you, his eyes shining with amusement but also curiosity, as if he was trying to figure out your every reaction.

"Well?" he asked with a small smile, tilting his head.

"It’s really good" you said after swallowing, feeling your cheeks warm up slightly.

Heeseung grinned, satisfied, and took another bite of his ramen, acting as if the moment held no particular significance. Yet, the subtle tension between you lingered in the air, almost tangible.

For a while longer, you both ate in silence, savoring the calm that followed the storm of emotions you had just experienced.

"Actually, the night was kinda fun" you suddenly broke the silence, finishing another bite of your ramen. "I wouldn’t mind if it lasted a little longer" you confessed unexpectedly.

Heeseung froze for a moment, his eyes widening slightly. With his cheeks still full of ramen, he swallowed quickly before responding.

"You… can come to my place if you want" he said, sounding a little nervous.

The air between you shifted again. Heeseung looked away for a moment, as if realizing the weight of his words only after saying them out loud.

You, on the other hand, watched him with a mix of amusement and intrigue. You hadn’t expected him to get nervous—not after how he had acted the entire night.

"Do you want me to?" you asked with a small smile, testing the waters.

Heeseung cleared his throat, scratching the back of his neck. "Only if you want to" he said, trying to sound nonchalant, but the faint blush on his cheeks gave him away.

You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you studied him for a few seconds before taking one last sip of your ramen. Then, setting the empty cup down on the table, you stood up.

He quickly finished his ramen, almost choking in the process, and both of you left the store, heading back to his car and soon to his home.

The boy beside you entered his apartment, which was located a bit far from the city's central area since that neighborhood was one of the most expensive. His home wasn’t too far from the convenience store they had just been at; in fact, Heeseung admitted that he regularly went there because he wasn’t much of a cook.

His apartment had a modern and minimalist style. It was a spacious studio with a small yet cozy kitchen. In the living area, there was a desk with a gaming computer, and beside it, a bookshelf filled with action figures and books.

A large, sleek gray couch framed the living space, facing a mounted LED TV with LED lights decorating its surroundings. On the coffee table, there was an empty bowl of ramen and a magazine about racing cars and engines.

As you took in every corner of his apartment, Heeseung shrugged off his jacket, letting it fall over the back of the couch. Then, he turned toward you with an amused smile.

"Do you like it?" he asked, referring to his home.

"Surprisingly neat for someone who eats ramen every night" you replied with a teasing smile, earning a chuckle from him.

"Well, it’s not like I get many visitors" he commented, slipping his hands into his pockets while looking at you intently.

The atmosphere felt different now. The adrenaline from the night had faded, and the silence that surrounded you both seemed charged with something else. Something electric.

You bit your lip and shifted your gaze toward the bookshelf full of action figures. To ease the nervousness, you walked over to browse, running your fingers along the spines of the books.

"Are you more into reading or gaming?" you asked without turning around.

"It depends. When I need to disconnect, video games. But when I want to completely lose myself, I prefer a good book" he confessed, his voice much closer than you expected.

When you turned around, Heeseung was standing right behind you—close enough that you could feel his breath. Your heart skipped a beat.

"And now… what do you want to do?" he asked in a whisper, his dark eyes flickering between yours and your lips.

It was obvious where this was going. You dared to lift your hand and gently brush against his slightly exposed collarbone, feeling his warm, smooth skin beneath your touch.

"I think that…" you started to say, but your voice trailed off as Heeseung closed the space between you.

His lips met yours softly at first, as if giving you the chance to pull away if you wanted to. But you didn’t want to.

You responded to the kiss with the same urgency, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands firmly settled on your waist, trapping you. Your back was pressed against the bookshelf, your chest against his.

The warmth of his body, the way he tilted his head to deepen the kiss, the way his breath became erratic against your skin… everything made you lose track of time.

No one would have ever believed that the night would end like this—kissing the bold guy who had shouted a compliment at you while speeding past in his car.

In the end, it seemed that someone with pink hair would bring excitement back into your life.

[adventremnant]

beauty tips to look less like you're actively dying

now of course, if you're following my nutrition tips, you should mitigate the living corpse appearance anyways, but here's makeup, skin, hair, and nail options to keep up the appearance of a normal person

Skin: Using a silicone scrubbie, take off makeup and wash face with an oil cleanser, then wash again with a regular gel cleanser. In the morning, vitamin C serum and then a day cream containing retinol and spf. At night, just petroleum jelly. Cerave sells all of these for cheap and they're recommended by my dermatologist. Use the petroleum jelly on your lips, too. During the day, use carmex chapstick religiously. For your body, use exfoliating body wash and exfoliating gloves. Naturium glycolic acid body wash and bio-lipid lotion are my holy grails. Makeup: You want to look dewy and rested. No matte makeup, it'll settle into your dry skin and you'll look worse. Start with Covergirl trublend in plush plump (or the greenish one if you have redness) to give off the appearance of plumper skin and prime your face. Assuming you have dark circles, you want an undereye brightener. I like Catrice's, you could also layer this over l'oreal's anti-fatigue magic skin beautifier if your dark circles are really bad. No heavy foundation - go for a bb cream. L'oreal magic skin or, my personal fave, wet n wild bare focus skin tint. For blush, avoid pink or peach - you want a shade that'll look natural. Most makeup artists use a red or a berry. If you wear red or berry lipsticks, just use lipstick as your blush, that's what I do with my clinique black honey (which is a great shade for this if you have olive skin). If you're going for red, a great, cheaper option for this would be sheglam colorbloom liquid blush or simply your lipstick like I said. Another berry option that's cheaper than my clinique would be something like wet n wild in my blackberry broke. You'll want a glassy, not powdery highlighter. This can be l'oreal lumiglotion, wet n wild radiance liquid, or an actual highlighter like l'oreal lumi le glass. For powder, just powder your t zone very gently with something like elf halo glow or the catrice blurring loose powder. Do your eye makeup and eyebrows however you want, though I personally recommend learning how to do them properly for your face shape and "animal face type" and learn your color season so everything harmonizes. Set everything down with Milani make it last dewy setting spray. Hair: It needs moisture and volume. A good cheap option is Pacifica salty waves if you don't color your hair and coco peptides if you do. Do a big deep conditioning treatment once a week. marc anthony grow long, l'oreal elvive, or pantene miracle rescue are all good options. Consider oiling your hair, too. research how to do it and what oil to use for your specific hair type. Use a mousse for volume - pacifica makes one that smells like vanilla. You'll scrunch this into your hair when it's soaking wet after your shower. Spritz with a sea salt spray after - ouai is the best, but it's pricy, so feel free to use pacifica's for this as well. Make sure also to trim your dead ends and get a flattering haircut that isn't flat - it'll be easier to hide any thinning with layers, and you won't get the stringy anorexia look. Nails: Get a nail oil, a cuticle remover, and keep your nails trimmed and cleaned, then start wearing press ons (or get gel tips if you can afford it). Bliss kiss nail oil pens are a great option, blue cross cuticle remover, and kiss are cheap, solid press ons. I like the medium length square french, but I was also born in the 90s.

[alicenpai]

the girl from the other side ✨ this series gave me hope a million times but simultaneously shattered my heart into the same amount of pieces </3 (flower symbolism under cut)

sticker sheet for anime north 🍀🥧🖤🤍

SPOILERS AHEAD

forget me not - obvious reference to the Black Children and how they eventually forget who they are as they near the end of their "life cycle".

white clover (in coffin) - white clovers typically symbolize innocence.

4 leaf clover - like I wrote in a previous post on my Witch Hat Atelier seasons piece, the 4 leaf clover symbolizes luck and good fortune. Like Coco, Shiva to her loved ones is a symbol of fortune, though to the Inside Kingdom, a symbol of misfortune.

sunflower - typically symbolize strength and warmth, a fitting flower for Shiva, the light illuminating Teacher's dark past.

nasturtium - another flower symbolizing strength, and has strong ties to the "victory" after battle. apparently soldiers used to don them as a sign of a long battle won. fun fact they are also edible (don't take my post for nutritional advice please) (ill probably write a bit more on this topic when my head is more clear)

[harianaswhore]

⟡ cₕₐᵣₗₑₛ ₗₑcₗₑᵣc ₂ ⟡

NONE OF THESE ARE WRITTEN BY ME

ᵐʸ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʳᵉᶜˢ ᶠ¹ ʳᵉᶜˢ

— ᶠᴸᵁᶠᶠ ⟡

a dulcet evening - @f1daydreamers

orange theory - @forzalando

making movies out of memories - @uglyducklingofthe2000s

prettiest - @starlost97

sleepy endearment - @adventuringblind

study hard - @fastandcarlos

sentimental - @illicitlimerence-writes

matchmaker pets - @the-flaneur

beause it matters - @chlerc

something - @leclsrc

the moment divine (^)

name(s) of love - @kiwisa

birthday - @norrisleclercf1

pick me up? - @captainreecejames

your hand fits in mine (so cute, i'll sob) - @the-offside-rule

hungry for you - @writtenfangirl

call me by your name (^)

car's outside (^)

the prettiest star - @lovings4turn

nothing's scary when i'm with you - @amirasainz

tradition - @heartmix

kisses (^)

sun and sand - @paddockletters

— ᴬᴺᴳˢᵀ⟡

i'll look after you (tw: not eating, passing out, etc.) - @roostersgirlfriendlovesf1

wait for your love - @leclerc-hs

all i'm asking for is your time - @mariahcarreyyy

as long as he's here (mentions of death of parents) - @forzalayla

just a mother - @natwritesf1

all of me for you (dark stuff !!! and smut towards the end) - @annie115

flushed (!!!! spiking drinks !!!!)- @xxblairexxss

ashamed (^)

break in, breakdown (tw: house getting broken into) - @pucksandpower

be my sanctuary (tw: domestic violence & abuse) (^)

blue birthday - @coco-loco-nut

stalker (tw: injury, stalking, etc.) - @norrisleclercf1

lay all your love on me - @foreveralbon

cellophane - @verstappensrealwife

— ˢᴹᵁᵀ⟡

like real people do - @monzabee

you're laughing (suggestive) - @scuderiahoney

one too many bites - @va1entinesg4l

something angelic - @agendabymooner

do i wanna know - @leclerc-hs

lose control - @hugleclerc

wine (alludes to smut) - @sinofwriting

giggles (^)

fling (^)

dangerous distraction - @thef1diary

so in love - @pierregazly

lazy sunday - @thelostconsultant

the middle of the night (sexual) - @leclerity

— ˢᴼᶜᴵᴬᴸ ᴹᴱᴰᴵᴬ ⟡

king of manifesting - @thisismeracing

dream girl - @lunavrse

wrong city - @captainreecejames

the short con - @planetpiastri

"you" in church - @slyscoutess

booktube - @edwardslvrr

that boy is mine - @imnameimswrld

the prettiest girl - @delewlew

i'm thirsty, refreshing - @5sospenguinqueen

needle little love (^)

best moments - @valstranquility

monaco official - @lovemomhatepolice

self care queen - the original creator deactivated this is the reblogged version

baby alonso - @cockkette

notes - @hugleclerc

tease - @marlenesluv

espresso - @keerysfreckles

looked for stars and i found a supernova - @love-belle

modern day romeo and juliet (^)

can't hear the haters - @forzamonza

— ˢᴱᴿᴵᴱˢ ⟡

something just like this two lay all your love on me - @imthebadguyyy

a house, a home where do we go? you think, you know love will always show green eyes - @vetteltea

to live for the hope of it all two three (smau) - @pierregazly

secrets he'll keep ne quitte pas - @hey-kae

night after night one man warrior (smau) - @charles-eclair16

post race tension post breakfast tension post space tension post tension - @5sospenguinqueen

play pretend two (^)

say don't go now that we don't talk suburban legends - @dannyriccsupremacy

archived what once was mardy bum - @leclsrc

[moonlit-imagines]

Remember Me

Tony Stark x child!reader

warnings:

a/n: yo im literally writing these in order of my spotify shuffle im sitting in my car waiting for mt laundry to be done

prompt: anonymous: “hello! First I wanna start with a big congrats on 8k followers, that is quite the achievement!!! I have a request for a Tony stark x child!reader (Tony’s child) with the song Remember Me from the movie Coco. Maybe something like the reader seeing the message Tony left for them after the events of Endgame? Idk if this is any good or not, but I had an idea so I figured I’d put in a request! Thank you for reading and have a nice day :D”//Remember Me - Coco Soundtrack

You sat at the edge of your bed at about four in the morning, the video your dad left you playing on loop for the fortieth time in the dark room—volume low as not to wake the rest of the house.

“You can bet they’ll remember me, kid.” Tony’s hologram told you once more. “Question is—will you?” You wished you could reach out and touch him, but each time you tried your hand slipped through the image and your heart sank a little deeper.

A few tears were shed when you were alone. When all eyes were on you at the funeral you just couldn’t bare to let anyone see you cry. Especially not your sister, you wanted to be strong for her.

The genius asshole that he was, he knew exactly what would make you cry. He loaded that hologram message with about a dozen videos of him and you when you were younger. Trips, experiments, explosions, birthdays, fifth grade graduation, you name it.

“You crying yet, y/n?” The message cut back to him. “I am. You were a cute kid. You know it’s okay to cry, right? You always put on such a brave face. Maybe it was because you grew up around the Avengers, I wouldn’t want them to see me cry either. But you can, they don’t mind.” Tony’s eyes were looking at your wall—you turned the thing away from you a bit because it was weird—but from this angle you could see those little streaks of tears on his cheeks. “Don’t grow up to be like me. Be better. I know you can be. Love you, goof.”

The message began to play again and you shut it off. Then you sat in silence a little longer and went to sleep. After about twenty minutes of that, Morgan crawled into your bed and told you she loved you “three thousand.” She reminded you of Dad.

taglist: @locke-writes // @captainshazamerica // @summersimmerus // @prettysbliss // @simp-legend // @wild-rose-35 // @nekoannie-chan // @beth-gallagher22 // @mymelodymia // @deanzboyfriend // @mr-mxyzptlk-1940 //

[babvc-au]

Alrighty Folks! The Time Has Finally Come!

Hopefully this is everything and i didn't miss any panels or doodles for this post, but here is almost everything about BABVC's comic sketches, wips, doodles, refs, and even scripts i never finished, plus more! Doodles and other art stuff will be added to the end of this post. (Due to how many wips i have and such, there will be multiple reblogs happening as i go through this so bare with me.)

So, did you want to know how BaBvc would have went? Here's your answer. (This will contain a mix of the script, old comic wips and context)

Now, well jump to where we left off in the comic with a smol refresher.

Scene 6 Nightmare:

It's dark and bendy is in a black like void. He hears voices.

"Why? You had a chance!" OB growls.

"Who's there!?" Bendy shouts.

"Why did you resist?" OB

"What?"

Bendy's eyes are suddenly covered by cold clawed hands. And he tries to pry them off.

"Why!?" OB

"What are you talking about?! Who are you!" Bendy growls trying to fight them off.

"Don't keep me waiting much longer" we see the claws retract and three tails around Bendy.

"I'm sick of waiting"

The last shot is of Bendy's demon cross eye.

“But, how…?”

He hears a yawn from Boris as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, “good morning, Bendy”

Boris blinks at Bendy’s hand and the bag, "You better not eat that so early in the morning, Bendy.” Boris scolded, ears pinned back.

“What? No, i wouldn't do that. But...” Bendy says, looking at the can thoughtfully. "Did you get some more after last night…?" He asked the tall wolf. Boris raised a brow at him, confused. 

"What do you mean?" He asked. "That's the same bag from last night when we went to the market right?" He asked. 

"Well yeah but, I lost it, remember?" Bendy said and looked up at his younger brother. Boris stares at him in confusion. "...You did?" He asked. 

Camera focuses on the can in his hand.

Scene 8:

Bendy and Boris enter Berry cafe and take a seat at a booth.

"So you honestly don't remember?" Bendy starts looking across the table to his younger brother.

"I really don't. I only remember us getting the stuff, and then after that, it's all blurry. Like I blacked out or something, and then it was morning." Boris replied. "Are you sure you didn't just imagine you lost it? Maybe it was a dream that you had last night." He points out.

"..." Bendy thinks, "Maybe you're right. I've been having weird dreams, and I guess it's possible." He says tiredly. "Though it really felt like I wasn't dreaming." He mumbled to himself.

Then Melody comes around shortly after and asks them what they would like to order. "Hello, welcome to Berry's Cafe. What would you - oh! It's you two, the usual then?" She smiles and lifts her paper and pen.

Bendy lifts his head and gives a small smile. "Ah, yeah, for me, at least. Boris?" He looks over expectantly for his order.

"Oh! um, what's the special today?"

"New York cheesecake drizzled in strawberries and syrup, it's so good!" she smiles and hugs her notepad dreamily.

Boris perks at that smiling "Guess I know what I'm getting now, (haha) and can I get a hot coco with that, thanks Melody."

"No problem! I'll put your order in right away." She nods and walks away allowing Bendy to see the other residents in the cafe. And surprisingly enough he sees someone familiar. His eyes widened a little, shocked.

(Isn't that-?)

Bendy looks at his right wrist and rubs it lightly.

(So it hadn't been a dream? I should probably thank him.)

Bendy stood, making Boris look at him. "Bendy?"

"I'll be back."

Bendy walks away and heads for the familiar person.

"Uh, Hey." he says. Catching Cupheads attention who opens his eyes. He looks a little confused and shocked to see Bendy for a moment.

"I wanted to say thanks for the other night you really helped me back there." Bendy says looking to the side awkwardly.

Cuphead says nothing for a minute. His shock turns to annoyance.

"Yeah, whatever, watch yourself, you're lucky I found you when I did." Cuphead says with a steady look. "Didn't your mom teach you not to walk around at night by yourself?"

"It's dangerous." He glares, narrowing his eyes.

Bendy furrows his brows at the semi aggressive tone. "Hey, I came to thank you, not get a lecture! And I wasn't by myself."

"..."

"Anyway like I said, thank you, seriously." Bendy frowned.

Cuphead stands up and looks down at Bendy, who looks up at him in return nervously as they stare at each other.

"Here you go sir, your order." Tostie says, giving Cuphead two drinks.

"Thanks," he says.

She walks away.

"There you are, Cuppy!" A new voice sounds in the cafe besides Bendy.

Mugs comes over and stands by his brother's side. Who gives him an exhausted look.

"Here." Cuphead hands him the second drink.

"Oh! Were you in the middle of something?" Mugs looks between Bendy and Cuphead.

Cuphead gives Bendy another glare.

"No. Let's go." He walks off, but Mugs falters and gives Bendy a nervous smile and a wave before he follows.

"Geez, what a jerk." (At least the other guy was nice) Bendy sweats but shrugs it off heading back to Boris.

"Was that someone you knew?"

"Uh, not exactly," Bendy says as he slides back into the booth.

It's silent for a moment before Boris speaks up.

"Bendy, listen, I know you're just as confused as I am, but you haven't told me a single thing about what happened last night, I was really worried about you."

"I know, I promise to tell you when I've made sense of it, ok? Just… give me some time."

Boris sighs, "...Ok"

Bendy looks away and out the window covered in fog with a thoughtful look. It starts to snow a little.

Scene 9

Cuphead glares ahead. (The hell? Did I not wipe his memory correctly? And what's with that weird smell?) He rubs his nose.

Mugman watches him, concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Cuphead mutters. “I just need to go to the casino… again.”

Mugman frowns. “Huh? Why?”

“I’ll tell you later—unless you wanna come with me.”

Mugman hesitates, then nods. “Mmm… I’ll go with you.” Cuphead glances at him, his expression unreadable. Without another word, he keeps walking.

(Que this scene where they report to The Devil about Bendy being immune to memory wiping)

"Sir, I've come to report something." [Kneeling]

"What is it?"

"There's someone i met that's immune to memory wiping."

"..."

"Is that so..."

(Thus, The Devil orders Cuphead to keep an eye on Bendy and to report back if anything happens.)

Scene 12

Cuphead (bat form) climbs through the crack of the window in the kitchen. He hops to the ground and transforms back into his toon form. He dusts himself off and then looks up. Unexpectedly Bendy was in the doorway and saw everything.

(Que a funny nervous Bendy stares and throws a mug at Cuphead.)

Bendy runs to his couch and starts his spiel.

"What are you doing in my house!? Are you going to kill me!? You're a vampire! Aren't you supposed to stay out of houses unless you're invited!? Or something!?

"Huh?"

"Wait a minute, vampires have other weaknesses! I think I have a few things!"

Bendy runs out of the room, and Cuphead is left in confusion.

"Okay...this is weird." -sigh-

Bendy comes in and out with various "vampire deterrents"

"Garlic!?"

"No"

"A cross!?"

"Nope"

"A stake!?" (It's a twig)

"Na-da"

"Sunlight!?" (Its a flashlight.)

"Did you forget you saw me at the café?"

[juanarc-thethird]

Sorry but I already have plans.

Jaune: *Eating breakfast*

Suddenly Team Rwby arrives for breakfast too.

Yang: Oh but look who decided to wake up early for once.

Jaune: I would have preferred a "Good morning"

Yang: Sorry~

Ruby: Since we found you here. We were thinking of going with everyone to check out that new Ramen restaurant that opened up by the park. Do you want to go?

Jaune: Sorry but I already have plans.

Weiss: Don't tell me, a new game came out.

Jaune: *Ugh!* (Not good! If this keeps up, they will think I'm an adult who act like a man child! I must act like a proper adult here...) Well... Actually... *Gulp* I'm going on a date.

At that moment all the girls of Team Rwby went numb.

Jaune: Well... I have to go so... SeeYouLater! *Runs away*

Moments later

Jaune is walking down the road, feeling a big pressure on his shoulders.

Jaune: (They're totally following me...)

Behind hime Team Rwby is watching him closely while trying, and I mean really trying, to keep themselves hidden.

Jaune: (What should I do? At this rate they'll think I lied out of a bizarre sense of pride. They'll see me as a pathetic adult!. But I still want to buy that game... and besides, I don't even have a date.)

At that moment he bumps into someone.

Jaune: Oh, sorry... Prof Goodwitch?

Glynda: Oh Jaune, what a surprise to find you here.

Meanwhile

In the kitchen today it's Penny, Pyrrha, Bleiss and Ciel's turn to clean.

Bleiss: *Jumping over and over again* Why can't I clean Jaune's mug?!

Pyrrha: *Holding the cup as high as possible* Because you’ll end up licking it!

Bleiss: Of course not!

Ciel: Can you two stop?! The faster we finish, the more time you'll have to spend with Jaune.

Suddenly Penny starts vibrating like a cell phone.

Penny: Emergency. Jaune is not available at the moment.

Ciel: What do you mean?

Penny: According to the information gathered, Jaune is on a date.

Ciel/Bleiss/Pyrrha: DATE?!!!

Meanwhile Meanwhile

In the evil's lair (Service Closet). Cinder is on the phone while Neo and Emerald are resting.

Cinder: Are you saying someone broke the truce?!

Neo: 🤨

Emerald: What happen?

Cinder: And on top of that Jaune is on a DATE?!!

At that moment the three of them become serious and begin to prepare to fight.

Cinder: That bitch is gonna pay.

Meanwhile Meanwhile Meanwhile

In a cafeteria, Neo, Reese, May and Arslan are having coffee.

*Ring, Ring!*

Neon: Hi Bleiss, were you able to get Jaune's mug?

Bleiss: Forget the mug! Code Red! Code RED!!

Neon: What are you talking about?

Bleiss: Glynda is on a date with Jaune right now!

At that moment the atmosphere became dark and heavy. And the faces of the four girls became serious.

Neon: I see

Meanwhile Meanwhile Meanwhile Meanwhile

At the park

Coco: *Sitting on a bench* What a nice day

Velvet: *Running towards Coco* Coco! Coco! Coco!!!

Coco: Wow! Calm down, what happen?

Velvet: Something terrible just happen!

Coco: *Worry* What is it?!

Velvet: Jaune is on a date with Glynda!

Coco: *Her eyes turned dark and soulless*... Excuse me?

Back with Jaune

Glyda and Jaune are walking together to their destination.

Glynda: So you're on your way to buy a game?

Jaune: Y-Yeah. (Is she going to judge me because I play video games?)

Glynda: It's good that you have a method to de-stress after your missions.

Jaune: You don't think it's bad to play video games at my age?

Glynda: Why should I? Everyone has their own methods, for me it's knitting, believe it or not. So I don't see anything wrong with you playing video games.

Jaune: *Hugs her* Professor!!!

Glynda: *Worry* Jaune?!

In the distance you could hear the voice of a very angry girl.

Bleiss: Code Black! CODE BLACK!!!

[arc-misadventures]

Dress Shirt

Coco: Hey, Jaune... why are you wearing a tee-shirt with your school uniform?

Jaune: One of my dress shirts is at the drycleaners after my shirt was drenched in juice. And, I can't find my spare dress shirt. So, I had to wear this tee-shirt instead.

Coco: Oh man that sucks.

Jaune: It does! Especially because of how it barely matches the rest of my outfit!

Coco: Yeah, those clothes don't match at all.

Jaune: Nahh... I'm going loose my fashion creds because of this...

Coco: You could go shirtless?

Jaune: Glynda said I would look hot, but I would be given detention because it's against the dress code...

Coco: Damn, if the Queen of the Fashion Trio says so, then it will have to be. Do you have any idea where you're shirt is?

Jaune: If I had an idea where it was it wouldn't be lost.

Coco: Fair.

Jaune: Haa... I'll just have to wait until my shirt is done at the cleaners, I'll get some new shirts while I'm at it.

Coco: Good plan, can I join you for some fashion shopping~?

Jaune: Sure. I wouldn't mind having you...

"Do-DA-Doo~!"

Jaune: Hang on, I just got a text...

Coco: From who?

Jaune: My girlfriend...

Coco: Yang? Oh did she send you something spicy~?

Jaune: Come on, Mocha, Yang isn't that kind of... girl...

Coco: ...?

Jaune: ....

Coco: Jaune, what is it?

Jaune: ...

Coco: What is it what did she send...?!

Yang: 'Hey, Jaune~! You forgot your dress shirt at my place'

Yang: 'You going to come, and get it~?'

Jaune: ...

Coco: ...

Coco: Gods damn...

Jaune: Okay... This is obvious a booty call...

Coco: Obviously.

Jaune: And, I am going to answer the call.

Coco: As you should.

Jaune: But, uhh... I not sure if I want my shirt back... Because, while I need my shirt back... I'm not sure if I want it back...

Coco: Take it back; That way you can 'leave' it at her place, and she can... she can give you a call to come pick it up~!

Jaune: You're a genius, Mocha!

Coco: I know darling~!

Jaune: Now if you'll excuse me, I need to answer a phone call~!

Coco: Have fun love~!

Coco: Ahh~!

Coco: I need a smoking hot blonde babe too...

Coco looks over to see, Arslan walking by.

Coco: Ohh~? Dark chocolate with butterscotch on top? How did she know it was my favourite~?

///

Here you go, @lar-mx Have another post!

Link to ART

[yandere-wishes]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨⋆White Roses Black Doves⋆୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

⭒⌒★ Yandere!Sleep Token x Reader ★⌒⭒

゜。♡ 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓸𝓷𝓵𝔂 𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓷𝓼 𝓸𝓷 𝓵𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 ♡ ｡ ゜  

｡ ₊°༺Nothing Good Ever Happens After 2 AM ༻°₊ ｡

⋆｡˚ᶻ ᶻ 𝗓 ᶻ 𐰁˚｡⋆ Vessel

There's an ache behind his eyes, a potent decay from within. Vessel blinks trying to subside the pain, the biological furor of reason. The celestial glare of the vending machine doesn't help, then again it's hard to feel anything but pain when you've foregone sleep for just a little over two weeks. The kaleidoscopic of options lobotomizes his brain, Monster or Red Bull? Carrion or cruor? He's about to claw at the keypad when he hears the familiar thing approaching. He can't help but be reminded of supernovae when he sees you, diaphanous little star killing herself from within, burning, and molting until there's nothing left to neither hurt nor hold.

Vessel loves watching as you bleed fatigue, bloodshot doe eyes pried open by phantoms, and yet he can still taste the innocence reflected in your cornea. "Same as always?" he asks, already stepping aside as you press tenderly on the decrepit eight. You eat KitKats like you're smoking a cigarette. Vessel finds it a tad too hilarious, a morbid joke. He'll be long dead from the poisonous vapor he inhales like oxygen and you'll be standing over his grave smoking sugar and coco beans. He licks his lips as he stares at your fingers, slender, shaky. He wonders what the marrow would taste like erupting between his teeth. "Rough day?" he mutters as he sinks down beside you. You only ever look at him, too shy to speak. That's fine, he thinks, he'll coax out that pretty voice someday. Behind you, the vending machine stirs a light mechanical hum like a choir hymn. You hand him the last piece before disappearing into the night. Vessel's eyes follow you until you're engulfed by the darkness, he'll see you here again like clockwork. Prayers of gratitude spill from his lips as he waits for morrow night.

♡꩜♡꩜♡ II

He's seen this scene before. Enshrined it in fact. Watched you until your essence engraved itself behind his eyes. He's memorized the ice cream you like, which foot you use to cross the threshold. The gentle jolt of your body as you slide open the freezer door. The clock strikes midnight and Cinderella appears with dark bags under her eyes to match the ebony paint he wears like an oath. ii watches as you lean over the freezer, face greeting the hoar.

His fingers twitch longing to sink into the plush of your hips, to entwine through your silky hair as they push you further into the frost. He'll trail kisses across your neck as you suffocate. Bite your jawline playfully and mar the gossamer flesh. Body pressed to yours, impaling your stomach on the freezer's edge. He'll say he loves you, because he thinks he does, or maybe there isn't quite a word to describe this emotion. This enthralling all-encompassing obsession etched deep within his bones. You're frozen in his thoughts, the little princess that roams the convenience store he likes to haunt. What do you call it when someone is imprinted upon your soul? When their essence is more familiar to you than your own? ii reaches for the same ice cream, letting the frost sink in like a kiss. When your fingers grace his, he interweaves them like a vice.

-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- III

There's something endearing about the emptiness, the void.

How the space continues to function even when the crowds have gone home. The lights, the pop songs, the machines, they all continue to dance even when the crowds have gone home. iii weaves between the games looking for something to pass the time. It's rejuvenating, he thinks, breathing without the panoptic. When you live in the limelight -no matter how hard you try to remain anonymous- you still leave all your pieces amongst the public. Forgetting how to fill your whole husk when the spotlight wears off.

The first time iii sees you he's nothing short of annoyed. He'd thought he'd get the place to himself. No screaming teens or crying kids, but your presence proves a complication even if you've yet to register the man behind you. He peers at your reflection smeared across the glass, sees you trying to ensnare a rabbit within the claws, your eyes closing for milliseconds in between only to reopen to the rabbit having plummeted once more. "Here let me help you" he offers. And truly at first he had meant it, an innocent act brought on upon both wanting to win the game and wanting to be rid of you. But the way your body slacks against his as he pushes against your back. The way your tiny hand fits so perfectly in his as he helps you navigate the joystick. You're perfume wafts over him, floral, dainty, like walking through flower fields at midnight. It takes three more tires before he wins you your rabbit.

But he doesn't stop there. iii drags you to the other games, enjoying how malleable you are within his hands. He notices how you can't help falling asleep no matter what you're doing. He wonders why you're here, amongst the neon lights and prizes instead of tucked away in your bed. By the time the sun has risen, iii's won you one too many prizes that you struggle to carry in your arms. He follows you back home, making sure to keep to the alleys and walls. It's so you don't get hurt he assures himself, but deep down he knows he just can't let you go. He's always had trouble with parting, wishing to keep everything locked away with this ribcage. Safe and sound. You've started to find plush animals outside your apartment door. Always with a morbidly painted guitar pick strung around their necks. You used to take them straight to your bed, giggling at your secret admirer. You'd give them names while inspecting the pick, wondering who you knew who played guitar. But recently you've started to notice crimson specks across the dolls. People have been missing, people you know and love. The crimson spots only keep growing…

˙✧˖° ⋆｡˚ IV

He feels you like a marble balancing on his tongue. Cold until it's corrupted by his heat. Your eyes are always open, but they never seem to see. IV wraps his arms around you pulling you closer as the movie screen flashes with some creature feature. He's found that you're happiest when he lets you out of the house. When his presence is lost amongst the outside world. Still, IV is ever cautious he knows how easy it would be for you to slip away. He's taken every precaution taking you outside only at night and usually to the cinema, usually, the ones that run old movies till the brink of dawn.

IV's mask nuzzles into your side, you only let out a low groan. It's always so hard for him to tell if you're awake or not, your brain seems to be perpetually elsewhere. IV grabs your chin, forcing your attention on him. "Darlin" he hisses, all warning and toxin. "Yes," you mutter like your mouth is filled with medicine you refuse to swallow. He pushes his mask above his lips, before sealing you in a kiss. All teeth and tongue like he's trying to devour you. You push on his shoulders at first, trying to break free, but when futility settles in, you give up, letting him take over. IV's fingers squish into your cheeks, his kiss deepens, ravenous, hungry for his stubborn little girl. You feel like you're drowning, letting the sea monsters devour you. Funny how the only place you'll ever be free of him is when his dear deity Sleep takes you away.

The screen overhead gleams in black and white, the monster has captured the girl, and the hero is nowhere in sight.

🎀Taglist: @blvckmvgicwoman @pastlivesxpastlie @enchantingarcadecreation @bloodmoon-bites

[prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue]

The dead haunts me

Pt.3 of Damien x Tokyo Ghoul sib. Reader

-> Read part 1 , part 2 here

──► after the death of his beloved sibling , Damien Wayne sets out hellbent on seeking his rightful justice even if it means betraying the world , betraying his family , and betraying them .

Tw : mentions of human abuse , mention of animal abuse , attempted self-harm , blood , gore , dark obsession

April 7th 2009 ,

help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help mehelp me help me help me help me help me help me help mehelp me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help me help mehelp me help me help me help me

April 8th, 2009

Today, I was allowed to peak through the window again , I got to see a Robin !! I wish I had wings as beautiful as the Robin. It's such a pretty shade of brown like the hot coco mama used to make on Christmas. If I were a Robin, I would fly as high as the clouds, and I'd never fly back down ! I only got electrocuted five times today , maybe because of yesterday ..... but hey, at least I got to see a Robin today !

April 9th , 2009

kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me .

April 10th , 2009

I failed another test yesterday . I couldn't do it , the dog was innocent, and she had little heartbeats in her tummy . I didn't wanna kill her , she was someone's best friend , someone's mum, even if she was a stray dog. The dog looked so scared, so I hugged the dog ! But I don't think they liked that because they hit me a lot . But it was okay because I kept hugging her because I didn't want them to hit me . Then he shoved me off her - I promise I tried , I tried to get up, but he pushed me down with his foot . He then.... ate her .....he ate her, and her blood was all over me . It's my fault she's gone , it's my fault she's dead - I'm so sorry, mummy , daddy, I didn't wanna be a monster .

December 15th , 2016

I made a new friend named Damien ! He's really cool . He has two awesome katanas, and he let me touch one ! I accidentally cut my finger, but that's okay ! We've been good friends for a while , apparently, he's Mr. Wayne's birth son, which is really cool. Imagine having batman as a dad ! Anyway I have to go on patrol with my new friend now !

February 4th, 2017

I cried on my new friends shoulder today , was pretty embrassing, but he hugged me back, and he was super warm !! I accidentally stabbed a suspect - it wasn't supposed to happen, and it was reflexes I swear because he came out of nowhere . Tim called me a monster because of it as the suspect was gurgling and bleeding but honest it wasn't my fault, and plus, he had an assault rifle ! Thankfully, Damien was there to back me up, and he told Tim off but still I feel so bad I didn't want to be a monster but Damien hugged me and promised me that we aren't monsters , we just grew up differently than them .

These entries are the property of Y/N Wayne .

Damien couldn't tell you the last time he slept . Everytime he closed his eyes , the vivid memory of y/n's dead form laying there bleeding in that field replays before him liek a broken record - sometimes in the dead of the night he can hear them calling out to him for help only to but immediately cut off abruptly like that night.

Whenever he's not pouring through countless articles about Arima or what happened that night, he's pouring through Y/n's life entries to the point he's memorized every page since its the one thing that has him grounded to earth anymore.

It's been a year . A year . And nothing, he couldn't find anything about Arima , nothing about the organization he works with , nothing about what happened to you that night, and he's bloody gone mad . It's like whatever happened that night vanished .

He asked - no begged Bruce on his hands and knees , till they were bloodied and bruised to help him search for you and even he - even he couldn't find anything about you . He feels so incredibly useless , mad , angry, somber, and tired, but his mind won't rest until he knows - until he's has avenged you.

Damien finds himself in their room again - like clockwork , his body unconsciously takes him here everytime , he doesn't know why but his body always guide him back here , to a home that's no longer here . He crashes on your bed and sobs loudly.

He sobs and screams his heart out before his lungs burn, and he has no more tears . Bruce stands in the doorframe as he looks at his son's disheveled form . He steps in carefully and approaches his sullen form. He doesn't know if Damien wants his company to begin with, but he shows no signs of being disturbed .

" Damien, we will get to the bottom of this, and we will arrest the culprit. It's just gonna take time -" Bruce says as he rubs Damien's back in a soothing manner . " Arrest them ? I'm going to bloody murder whoever it is, " Damien seethes out as he clutches onto the bedsheets in anger.

Bruce scowls . " They wouldn't want that," he muttered out . Damien stills underneath him before kicking him square , sending Bruce flying into a wall . " YOU DON'T GET TO SAY WHAT THEY WANT," he screams back.

Hearing the commotion , Dick runs into the room and makes a beeline to his father . " Damien what the fuck -" he curses as he helps pick up his father . Damien seethes , red is practically all he sees at this point .

" Damien - we both know they don't like death - what makes you think they'd like it if you took another's life " Bruce says between coughs . Damien shoots him a glare. " DON'T PLAY SAINT WITH ME BRUCE , THEYRE DEAD , THEYRE GONE BECAUSE SOME SICK FUCK AND IF YOU HADN'T HELD ME BACK THAT NIGHT THEY'D BE HERE WITH ME " Damien shouts as he punches the wall next to him.

Dick sends him a glare . " You're absolutely gone mad." Damien gives him a sick smile , " I've gone mad long time. You're just now realizing it." Bruce's shakes his head as he leans against Dick for support . " Don't do this, Damien , don't go down this road," Bruce pleads with his son. Damien shakes his head. " Because of your - no our incompetence , following your pathetic morals , trying to be nice , trying to be diplomatic, they're dead so no father. I WILL BE JUSTICE , I WILL BRING IT , I WILL FORCE IT UPON GOTHAM AND YOU ALL SHALL BARE IT , Damien promises before vanishing off into the night.

Blood stains his shirt , his hands , his face as he moves through the night skillfully, leaving a bloodbath in his wake. The once quiet night of Gotham was now filled with pleads and screams of criminals. Damien decided that since he couldn't find out who did it , he might as well eliminate all possibilities...permenantly.

Bodies were left bleeding out , some were twisted and mauled beyond recognition as Damien carried out his reign of justice . Damien had just finished dismembering a child predator when he heard someone approaching from behind him .

Without any hesitation, he spun around and threw a knife at them. Silence filled th air before the figure emerged from the shadows , knife caught skillfully between their fingers with a stark face . Arima stood before Damien with a cold look.

" You're as messy as a ghoul , almost like them," he states coolly before throwing the knife back Damien's way . Damien dodges it and sends the man a glare . " You," He seethes as he unsheathes both katnas . " Me," Arima confirms as he pushes his hands into his coat. " Why?" Damien spits out . "Why them.." he pleads.

Arima stares at him blankly. " They're like any other ghoul in my world. They're monsters that deserve to die , a monster that had to be put down, " he finishes. A breeze blow between them, and Damien feels himself giving in to blood thirst.

" THEY WERE A GOOD PERSON," he said defensively as tears began slipping down his cheeks. Arima says nothing for a moment and just stares at him . " Damien , sooner or later, they'd become a danger to your universe when they eventually gave in to their urges " he says with a matter of fact tone.

Damien lunges at him , ready to dehead him, but Aima kicks him into a building with heavy force . Damien let's out a pained groaned as rubble crumble upon him like a tidal wave . " They would never eat humans," Damien says as he struggled onto his feet .

Arima simply adjusts his glasses . " They won't but that ghoul inside them would of." Damien lunges after him again, but Arima blocks him with his hand. " People like them are made into monsters." Arima starts as he blocks another one of Damien's jabs . " People like them would pray to God every night and cry their lungs out asking the world why they are the way they are," he continues as he continues dodging Damien's attempts to kill him.

Damien gets angrier the more he speaks and the more he dodges and attempts to pierce Arima in his eye like he did with them but arima simply holds his blade in a tight grip and kicks the other out of his hold sending it flying elsewhere. " There is no hope for people like them but death," Arima says as he stares into Damiens' eyes . Damien curses him out, but Arima ignores him.

" Tell me , you claim to love them so dearly, yet you hurt them more than I ever could that night." Arima finshes before he throws Damien against a wall . This time , Damien couldn't get up , he's too tired, too sore, too beaten - all he could do was cry pathetically.

" I didn't - I never hurt them i-" he stammered. Arima stares at him , " You did , you kill all of those people - curse them for cruelty they never deserved - tell me - you loved them so dearly - you know they hate seeing death so why taint their soul with the death of so many , " Arima finishes before he disappears into the abyss leaving Damiens broken body to weep alone .

" I didn't- I did it for them , I did it for them , all for them - I- love them - i still do - I- y/n my beloved you know I mean good - your big brother was just protecting you , I still am - my precious sibling I'll fix everything -" Damien says between broken sobs . In that very moment , his bruised hand picks up his discarded knife and pierces his own eye with it .

" Don't worry sibling - they don't understand my intentions - they don't get what I've done for you " He stammered as his blood bleeds down his figure . Damien lays there broken , swearing to avenge them over and over like a broken record .

At that moment, Batman landed on the nearby building before his gaze lands on Damien's broken father. Batman immediately grapples to his son - immediately phoning Alfred for an ambulance. " Damien, what have you done " Batman questions as he picks up his son's broken figure.

" Justice, father," Damien replies with a smile . Ambulance wails in the distance as they approach closer. " No , Damien, you became something they would never want , a monster," Batman says as he grapples them away .

Pt. 4 or do yall want more on their relationship???

[enluv]

oomf you won’t believe this…

pairing: ??? x fem!reader

synopsis: in which y/n gets a surprise at her family reunion

genre(s): fluff, smau oneshot (maybe), this was made on a whim so it’s really just silly vibes

cast: enhypen, skz I.N, aespa’s karina, riize anton

warnings: dark humor (kys jokes), cursing, might have missed something so just let me know if I did !

coco’s ♥︎ note: I’ve had this idea for so LONG now and after months of writers block/just not feeling the best overall I’ve finally been able to get myself to make it a real thing! I’m not sure how far I’ll go with this idea but please let me know how you like it !

coco’s ♥︎ note (x2): I’m going to post this then go to bed so I’m praying people like it 😭 and when I wake up I’ll be back here to talk about enhypen’s new album !

enhypen taglist — @yeoforce @bloom-bloom-pow @yourlocalhotgf @enhacolor @yoongimooni @gyuussy @eternallyhyucks @junityy @fxckingshame @stealanity @haoreo @chaerybae @bobariki @tytrackfebreze @veryjeongintxtkid @w3bqrl @queen-klarissa @odxrilove @s00buwu @j-wyoung @jiawji @palajae @aishigrey @txtlyn @jakeofalltrades639 @idkwatodoanymore @givemeakith @haechansbbg @mxlly143 @tinyelfperson @vampcharxter @luvbinnies @pockyyasii @noajakah236482 @nikilvrfvr @ja4hyvn @pockyyasii @aerivrs @todorokiskitten @retiredfactoryworker @diaryujin @theswordthatstabbedjouno @soheendo - bold can’t be tagged!