#cus I think I changed the name often...

[seven-thewanderer]

I just wanna let you guys know...

Counting today, there are only 4 days left of me being online, before I basically have to vanish for 2 whole months (and then idk how much of the 3rd month I'll be gone, but a portion of that month too...)

I wanna spend it as well as I can, but I also don't really know what I'll do, nor am I sure I'll have the time to really do anything, as I still gotta prepare a bunch to go before I do go...

So yeah if I end up going quiet before I go then I'm sorry, but I really hope I at least talk a bit more before suddenly vanishing!!!

...I also at least wanna list some of the tags I have on my blog(s) that may interest yall while I'm gone... ...though I doubt it'll interest yall for 2 whole months + a unknown portion of a 3rd month)

But yeah if I end up not getting the chance to say bye, just know I'll miss u guys, and I care about yall & love u all!! (platonically, of course XD)

[heartsforvin]

THE GREATEST

billie fr was in my head makin this song cus why did it describe everything that happened to me in the past so perfectly ???? MORE TOXIC!VINNIE CUS YALL FREAKS N LUV HIM (twin)

pairing: vinnie hacker x fem!reader

warnings: angst, cussing, arguing, use of pet names, mentions of being used, mentions of sex, toxic relationship,degrading words used, if i missed anything lmk !

summary: it was clear vinnie never truly loved you and only wanted you for one thing, but coming to terms with it was the difficult part

during the early days of your relationship with vinnie, everything was great. nice dates, movie nights in, he even took you out of the country a few times.

as the months progressed and days went by, you noticed a change in the man you grew to love.

he’d become distant, only really calling, texting, and coming to your place in convenience to himself.

the two of you haven’t been together for too, too long, only about two years. in that two years you’ve shared parts and sides of you you’ve never shared before.

so when he stopped coming by just because he truly missed you and actually wanted to see you, you were crushed.

you didn’t know how to tell him, so you’ve kept it inside for months on end.

you love vinnie, truly, truly love him, but you’re feeling like he doesn’t love you anymore.

or never did.

◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡

“baby come on, just once for me, please?”

you and vinnie were laying in his bed, you cuddled into him with your leg around his. his hand was on your ass, squeezing every so often, trying to tell you he wanted something.

you knew what he wanted, it’s all he’s been wanting for weeks now. the two of you barely even spoke an actual sentence that didn’t include him asking for sex.

he barely complimented you, barely touched you in the soft, loving way he used to, barely even talked to you.

“vinnie, no.” you push his chest as he leans in for a kiss.

he scoffs and rolls his eyes as he unwraps himself from your embrace. your heart sinks at the loss of contact.

even if the relationship is crumbling, you still love to feel his warm embrace, still loving that feeling, the feeling of him in your arms.

“when you’d become such a prude? you used to be all up on me, now it’s like i don’t exist.”

you just sit there staring at the man in front of you, internally scoffing to yourself at his choice of words.

you weren’t a slut and you definitely were not a prude. you used to love sex with the blonde, that was until it only became sex.

he was really good at it, that you cannot lie about. things change though, he’s changed.

vinnie stands there with his arms crossed, thinking to himself what he definitely should not be thinking when the two of you are in the middle of an argument.

“come on,” he coaxes, rubbing your arm in the way he used to when the two of you would be in the mood. “you know you won’t be mad anymore once we start.”

now that, you actually do audibly scoff at. not believing he even thought to say something like that.

all it’s been for the past few weeks is sex, him asking you for nudes when he’s out of town and ‘misses you’, and not enough actual love.

you’re surprised with yourself honestly. you love him so much, that’s why you can’t escape.

you have to though. it’s obviously clear he doesn’t love you the way you do anymore.

“you don’t love me.” the words come out so soft, you almost didn’t hear yourself speak.

vinnie crosses his arms over his chest again and rolls his eyes at you. of course he loves you, why would he still be with you if he didn’t?

“i love you, baby.” the pet name sounds sour coming out of his mouth now that he’s only using you for one thing.

you cringe at the name, hoping for once he’d actually call you by your real name for once.

standing up off the bed, you’re now face to face with the man. the height do is noticeable and for a minute, you think it’s cute how vinnie is a few inches taller than you.

you open your mouth to speak but suddenly nothing comes out, like you’re at a loss for words.

oddly enough, you kind of are. for weeks on end you’ve felt like just an object to the man. you can’t believe this is happening, you thought he was the one.

sitting back on the bed, you cross your legs as you face your boyfriend, who still had the same expression on his face.

“no, you don’t love me, vinnie. you haven’t for weeks — what makes you think that?!” his outburst scares you and you physically jump.

he does nothing to comfort you though, you’ve pissed him off and he wants to know why you think he doesn’t love you.

“all i’ve been to you is sex. any time it’s convenient to you, any time your dick is hard i’m your girlfriend again, but only for a short amount of time. i’m sick of this!”

sobs escape your mouth, cheeks and eyes red as you cry out to your boyfriend. all you’ve ever wanted was unconditional love from the boy in front of you.

vinnie’s silent in front of you, suddenly having no words to speak. you sigh, a choked sob leaving you as you wipe your tears.

“i can’t keep fucking doing this, vinnie!” you scream out, letting out all your pent up anger.

he just lets you, taking it head on as you cry your heart out to him.

you so badly want to crash into his chest, for him to hold you and reassure you that everything will be okay.

“baby—no, you do not get to fucking ‘baby’ me when you’re quite literally the one using me!”

vinnie knows everything you’re saying is true. he stopped loving you awhile ago but didn’t want to let you go.

he knew it was wrong, he knew using you for his own pleasure wasn’t right and you deserved so much better.

“do you know how it feels to be used?” you ask, sniffing and rubbing your tear stained cheeks.

vinnie nods his head, knowing full well. “doesn’t feel good, does it?” vinnie nods at your question.

you stand up, coming face to face with him again. “when did you stop loving me?”

that was the first question you wanted the answer to. you needed to know exactly when he stopping showing you the affection you did him.

vinnie sighs. “i want you to know first, that in the beginning i did love you. i loved you so much it physically hurt,” he starts, making you tear up. “but after awhile it just became too much, and all i really wanted was sex.”

you stay silent as he continues. “i didn’t want to break your heart and break up, so i just thought if we stayed together and kept doing what we do, it wouldn’t hurt you so bad.”

you scoff and laugh at his words. “you thought instead of coming to me and telling me you didn’t love me anymore, and that fucking me just because you didn’t want to hurt me, is better?”

your tone is visibly irritated, and vinnie knows he’s fucked up big time. he rubs his hand over his face and sighs.

“well when you put it like that it sounds awful.”he tells you. once the words leave his mouth he immediately wants to take it back, it was such an obvious statement.

you push his chest in frustration but he doesn’t get very far, landing back on his feet. “maybe because it is?” you question sarcastically.

you can’t stand the way he’s acting right now, like this whole thing was absolutely no big deal. you loved him with your whole heart, he knows things most people don’t.

you trusted him.

“i didn’t want to hurt you.” his voice is soft, low tone. he truly didn’t want to hurt you, he just thought this was the best thing to do.

he stopped loving you, that he knew. he wanted to keep the sexual aspect of the relationship though, so he didn’t think much of it.

“why didn’t you just come to me instead of basically faking your love for me?” your voice cracked at the words, making vinnie’s heart break on the inside.

he sighs, running a hand through his hair as he tries to piece the right words.

“i really don’t know,” he starts. “everything became too much, i told you that. i wanted to tell you, then something got in the way and then i just decided to do the one thing i know that would put all of it aside for a bit.”

you knew what that was, and hearing him say it out loud instead of the thought lingering in your head hurt more than you could imagine.

you felt disgusted, ashamed at yourself for letting him just outright use you like that. for the sex, for your body, everything.

vinnie reaches out to grab your hand, but you back away and shake your head.

the last thing you want right now is for him to touch you in any sort of way. everything hurts, and feeling his touch would completely break you.

“i made it all look painless because i didn’t want to upset you,” you speak, looking down at the ground before facing the boy in front of you. “so i guess i hurt myself in the end, but you’re still the cause.”

the cause.

vinnie’s chest tightened at those two words. he can’t believe he did this, cant believe he was the cause of you feeling so disgusted and ashamed.

“i’m not going to say i’m sorry, because i know that won’t help it any. looking back, i fucked up more than ever and i feel absolutely fucking awful for putting you through this.”

tears well in your eyes as he continues. “you’re one of the most kindest, sweetest people i know, and knowing now how much hurt i’ve put you through over the past few weeks, makes me feel awful.”

he sighs, hoping he’s making sense and hoping you’ll take his words into consideration.

“i will say im sorry for making you feel used. when you sent those things while i was out of town, i thought it wasn’t just for my desire, but yours too.”

you sniffle and wipe your eyes. “i did it to make you happy. so i wouldn’t upset you. the pictures don’t bother me as much as the sex does,” you explain.

“you knew i took that seriously, you knew that was important to me when we first got together. yet, you took it for granted.”

you did consent to everything he had done, so it wasn’t like it was unconsenual and nothing you really didn’t want.

he nodded his head, knowing you were right. “i know, and i feel terrible for making you feel like this.”

you sigh and try to dry your eyes. sitting back on the bed, you move up to the headboard and hold your legs against your chest.

“i just wanted what i gave you.” you whispered.

vinnie knew what you meant. you gave all your love to him but he never did the same, just used you.

“you don’t know how long i waited and waited, hoping that one day you’d give me the love and passion i gave to you,” you sniffle. “but it never came.”

vinnie stays quiet, having nothing to say because he knew nothing would make up for any of this.

mere minutes passed before you spoke up again. you looked at him, teary and red eyed before saying, “i think i need some time to regroup and space,” you say quietly. “just give me a minute and i’ll leave.”

vinnie nodded and left his room without a word. the minute his bedroom door shut, that’s when you let it all let go. you couldn’t hold back anything.

you felt so stupid and oblivious to the situation. you did notice change in him, but you didn’t want it to be true.

after a few minutes, you wiped your eyes and stood up off the bed. you grabbed your things and put your shoes on, leaving vinnies room.

giving him a weak smile, you head straight to the front door without a word. you open the door before turning your head to face vinnie.

“i’ll be back for my stuff another day, just gimme time, please.” your voice cracks as you speak.

vinnie nods and tries his best to not run to you and hold you in his arms. he knows it’s over, it was over the minute this whole argument started.

“i’ll be here, take all the time you need.” with that, you give him a small smile before leaving his apartment.

as you walked to the elevator, you thought you truly were the greatest person right now. keeping your feelings in when he did that to you for so long. you’re just glad it’s over now.

hi hi !!! currently at work when i post this !! network is down and i have nothing else to do so i decided to finish this !!

i hope you all enjoyed <33

tags: @cosmicanakin , @anqeliclust , @native2princess , @sturnioloshacker , @visualbutterflysworld , @bernelflo , @leqonsluv3r , @0strawberrysorbet0 , @slvthrs , @lovingsturniolo , @louloulemons-blog , @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom , @khxna , @laylasbunbunny , @hallecarey1 , @kriissy4gov , @supabhad , @kayleighh , @violet0182 , @defnotayonna , @jpg3 , @eddieslut69

[whorbidmore]

okay, so, I've fallen victim to the leon kennedy brainrot steadily overtaking me, following me from Tumblr to Pinterest, to Instagram and even the absolutely fucking dreaded application of TikTok. I don't even use it that often??? and the algorithm is just like 'wow, yeah, this little fuckers gay as hell send in the 40 year old meow meow!!' and having watched Death Island fairly recently, I'm gonna have my opinions on what this dude would be like. Cus my brain loves to rationalize shit and think ab 'what if this mf was someone real?' so... fuck it.

Leon Soft Kennedy Headcanons

SFW

accidentally bigoted. - im sorry but let's be so fucking real here. he's a 40 something year old man who spent the majority of his life in either the military, a police training academy in the 90's, or otherwise working under the U.S Federal System with minimal/no time between missions to unpack absolutely everything he's got going on... the guys gonna have some problematic tendencies. Obviously that doesn't mean he means any of that or is incapable of change, etc. etc., but I know for damn certain this dude would laugh a little at Bill Burr's borderline to blatantly misogynistic material and has probably chuckled unironically at the attack helicopter jokes. But, he's not a complete dick, and would definitely become more critical of those kinds of jokes if it's pointed out to him.

honest to God, Dad Without Kids™ - it's not simply enough for me to leave it at 'but it's the vibes!!' so, I'm gonna break this shit down. Leon is absolutely Gen X incarnate. I can fucking guarantee you that on his off days he accidentally ends up dressing as an undercover cop; I'm talking cargo shorts, light blue button up, those fucking standard issue boots cus "they're perfectly good shoes" and those stupid ass sunglasses... you know the ones I'm talking about. Let's say you're living with him, right? And you're... you, and you wanna watch something on TV. This dude would strain himself getting up like a turtle fallen backwards on its shell, stand up, walk right in front of the TV screen and stand there with his hands on his hips. It doesn't matter that he had to piss, he needs to get a better look of what's happening! Does those really loud, obnoxious coughs and sneezes, absolutely blows his back out doing one at least five times a year.

Only watches British Reality TV - Considering he's canonically a film buff, I'll say that this is purely for whatever he gravitates towards on general streaming services. I honestly don't see him being the type to regularly tune in to standard American cable TV, or only does so under specific circumstances like American Ninja Warrior or maybe Forged in Fire if there's absolutely nothing else. It's not something that's exclusive to Americans, — I'm from New Zealand and I do this too, — but Leon absolutely falls into the category of watching British Reality and Game shows purely because of the accents. I'm talking Jeremy Kyle, The Big Fat Quiz of Everything, Taskmaster, The Great British Bake Off and so on and so forth. It doesn't matter that baking isn't his forté or a passion of his, if Josephine curdles her buttercream by over mixing, his hands are in his hair in utter disappointment. 100% tries to mimic their accents too. We all do it, don't lie.

Has... very dated music tastes - I don't know if you could guess, but the last paragraph included me calling myself out and name dropping some shows I watch anyway or grew up watching, and I'm just saying that this is gonna be no different. If anything? This'll be worse! Since I'm very passionate about the music I listen to and have the inability to keep my interests separated from the other, of course my love of particular bands will bleed over into my interpretation of Leon's character! Anyway, all that for me to say that Leon fucking LOVES 90's grunge musicians, specifically Pearl Jam and Soundgarden, as well as early nu metal bands like Korn (their dubstep phase did not happen.), TOOL, and Rage Against the Machine — and no, he unfortunately doesn't see the irony of him being a fed and listening to Rage, — but would also have a soft spot for psych rock, post-punk and shoegaze. My man's definitely laid awake at night, sobbing without expression as he struggles to accept that Ada never really wanted him like he wanted her while listening to fucking Slowdive. My hottest take here is that he doesn't really listen to Deftones. Like he'll occasionally blast My Own Summer, Change, Bored or Rosemary, but anything outside of those? He just didn't listen to 'em. My second hottest take is that he does NOT like Slipknot, which kind of pains me 'cus I do, but I fucking bet you this dude would actually adopt one piece of "Gen Z lingo" or whatever just call them cringe. Though admittedly he would've been jamming the fuck out to Psychosocial and The Devil in I when they came out. Went off the deep end in Vendetta, obviously, and drunk-cried himself to sleep on the couch listening to Linkin Park.

Very confusing spending habits - On one hand, we all understand that Leon came from money, — he was implied to have been born into a mob family from my understanding? And I doubt he'd ever really had to worry about being fully, irrevocably broke, — but I'm sure that growing up in the U.S Foster Care System made him at least a little more cautious of where his money comes from, where it's going, what he's spending it on, etc. So, on the one hand, he's apprehensive to spend recklessly, particularly on perishables. But also, if he can drop over $100,000USD on a motorcycle that got absolutely fucking cheese grated into the road, and spend a perceived, metric fuck ton of money on designer leather jackets and massive watches, it's gonna be hard for me to call him 'financially conscious'. On one hand, he gets apprehensive on spending more money than he needs to on food since he's "just gonna shit it out later", but if he sees a cool watch or a nice suit in a shop window? Money's suddenly not an issue! Not because he's materialistic, but because the one thing he really maintains a sense of control over in his life are his possessions and the way he dresses. The D.S.O can call him in for another months long mission whenever they please, and all he can realistically do is allow the government to tug on his leash and put him where he's needed. He may as well spend their money on things he wants!

Gets out... enough? But also, not really? - So, personally I've pegged Leon as more of an introverted person, — amateurly typed his MBTI as possibly ISFJ? — so he doesn't really feel the need to go out and meet new people or really hang out with anyone. If somebody invites him out? Sure, he'll go. Otherwise, it rarely occurs to him to meet up with friends or colleagues at a cafe or anywhere. I think he'd prefer to just go there alone, mostly for the sake of having somebody else cook for him as opposed to actively seeking out the atmosphere. It's pure convience in his mind. And remember when I said in the beginning about him accidentally being at least a little misogynistic? Yeah, that was me trying to say that he regularly tries to hit on younger waitresses. Not because he actually wants anything to do with them, but simply because it's an ego boost. He likes that he can make girls half his age blush or offer him their numbers, because it tells him that he's still desirable, and ultimately, that gives him the power to reject them politely and go about the rest of his day. If they don't reject him first, of course. Admittedly, Leon's audacity towards women peaked during Infinite Darkness.

Since I'm planning on posting more NSFW headcanons for this guy, — and more NSFW kinds of posts, — here is the obligatory Minors DNI attachment. For your own safety, I don't care if what I have to say is tame so far, you can hold it off I promise.

[kentobb]

PRESAGE | CHAPTER TWO

Characters: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Female Reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Angst?

Author’s note: I feel like I should make a masterlist. Lmk what you guys think.

5 year later…

Five years had passed since the graduation, and Ushijima had become a household name in the world of volleyball. As a key player for the Schweiden Adlers, he had risen to fame with his exceptional skills and unyielding determination. His powerful spikes and steadfast presence on the court were often the highlight of sports news. Paparazzi followed him relentlessly, their cameras clicking like mechanical insects whenever he stepped out. His face adorned billboards, and his matches were televised events that drew millions of viewers.

Yet, despite the adulation and the accolades, a certain emptiness lingered in his heart. The constant attention was exhausting, and the endless cycle of training and competition left little room for personal reflection. It was this weariness that drove him to make a decision he rarely indulged in: he would take a break. He would return to his roots, to the serene landscapes of the Miyagi prefecture, and visit his mother for a month.

After informing his manager and ensuring his schedule was clear, Ushijima packed a small bag and took a quiet train ride out of Tokyo. The journey was a welcome change from the hustle of city life, the rhythmic clatter of the tracks and the rolling vistas of the countryside soothing his frazzled nerves.

He arrived in Miyagi to a brisk spring breeze and the familiar, comforting sights of his childhood.

His mother’s house stood as it always had, a modest home nestled among fields that stretched out under the wide sky. She greeted him with a warm embrace, her eyes sparkling with pride and joy.

“There’s my big star!” She said as she hugged him.

They spent the first evening catching up, sharing simple meals, and enjoying the unhurried pace of rural life.

It was a balm to his soul, and he felt a peace he hadn't known in years.

After a few days of rest, Ushijima decided to visit an old friend. Tendō Satori, his eccentric best friend from high school, had opened a chocolate store not far from Shiratorizawa Academy. The store, aptly named "Tendō's Treats," had quickly gained popularity for its unique and whimsical confections. Ushijima had followed its success from afar, often receiving care packages filled with Tendō's latest creations.

The shop was a cheerful, inviting place with bright colors and playful decorations that reflected Tendō’s personality. As Ushijima pushed open the door, a small bell chimed, and the rich scent of chocolate enveloped him. Tendō was behind the counter, his trademark grin widening as he looked up and saw his old friend.

“Waka-chan!” Tendō exclaimed, vaulting over the counter with surprising agility. “What a surprise! I didn’t know you were in town!”

Ushijima returned the grin with a rare smile of his own. “I needed a break,” he explained simply.

Tendō clapped him on the back and led him to a cozy corner of the shop. They sat among shelves filled with colorful chocolates, reminiscing about old times and catching up on the present. Tendō’s stories were as animated as ever, his laughter infectious.

“And here I thought you’d be too busy with all those interviews and matches to remember little old me,” Tendō teased, his eyes twinkling.

“You’re not easily forgotten,” Ushijima replied, a hint of warmth in his voice.

Ushijima took a sip of his hot chocolate, his mind wandering back to their high school days. The memories were bittersweet, tinged with nostalgia and regret. He turned to Tendō, who was leaning back in his chair, a contented smile on his face as he savored his own drink.

“Tendō,” Ushijima began, his voice breaking the comfortable silence. “Have you seen anyone from our class recently?”

Tendō’s eyes sparkled with curiosity. “Hmm, not too many, but I do keep in touch with a few. Why do you ask?”

Ushijima shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “Just curious. It’s been a while since we graduated.”

Tendō grinned and reached under the counter, pulling out a well-worn yearbook. “Ah, perfect timing! I was just looking through this the other day. Let’s take a trip down memory lane.”

He placed the yearbook on the table and opened it to a random page. The pictures and names of their classmates stared back at them, frozen in time. Tendō began flipping through the pages, pointing out familiar faces and providing updates.

“Ah, the usual suspects. Goshiki is still obsessed with volleyball, training kids now. Semi’s in a band, believe it or not. Shirabu went into medicine, as expected. He’s working crazy hours but loves it.”

Ushijima nodded, taking it all in. There was a comfort in hearing about his old teammates, their paths diverging yet somehow staying true to the people they were in high school. But these updates were not the ones he truly sought.

Ushijima nodded absently, his eyes scanning the pages but not really absorbing the information. He wasn’t interested in his old friends, not today. His mind was elsewhere, on someone else entirely.

Tendō noticed his distraction and paused, his expression turning more serious. “Waka-chan, you seem... different. Is there someone specific you’re wondering about?

Ushijima hesitated, then nodded. “Yes. I’ve been trying to find her for years, but it’s like she vanished…” He breathed, “Do you know what happened to her? To Y/N”

Tendō’s eyes softened with understanding. He flipped through the yearbook with more purpose, stopping on a page featuring a picture of Ushijima and you sitting together in the library. Both engrossed in books, having a tutoring session, but the warmth your expression was unmistakable.

“I remember this,” Tendō said softly, tapping the picture. “You two were inseparable back then.”

Ushijima stared at the picture, memories flooding back. The late nights studying, the shared dreams, the quiet moments of understanding. His chest tightened with a mix of longing and regret.

Tendō closed the yearbook gently, his expression thoughtful. “I’ve heard a bit about her. She’s working as a waitress in a restaurant now. And... she has a kid.”

Ushijima’s eyes widened in surprise. “A kid? Is she married?”

Tendō shook his head. “No, there’s no husband or father in the picture as far as I know. I tried visiting her once to see how she was doing, but she avoided me. I didn’t want to push, especially knowing...”

He trailed off, but Ushijima understood. “Especially knowing that I broke her heart.”

Tendō nodded. “Yeah. Waka-chan. I didn’t want to make things harder for her.”

Ushijima leaned back in his chair, feeling a wave of emotions crash over him. Confusion, regret, a hint of heartbreak. But beneath it all, a deep, abiding yearning. Even after all these years, his heart still ached for you.

“I never wanted to hurt her,” he said quietly. “I thought I was doing what was best for both of us.”

Tendō reached across the table and placed a comforting hand on his friend’s arm. “I know. You did what you thought was right. But sometimes, life doesn’t go the way we plan.”

Ushijima nodded, his gaze distant. “She has a child now. I’m glad she’s moved on, even if it means she had to move on without me.”

Tendō’s eyes were filled with sympathy. “Maybe it’s not too late, Waka-chan. Maybe you can still make things right, or at least find some closure.”

Ushijima looked at his friend, the weight of years of unresolved feelings pressing down on him. “Do you really think so?”

Tendō smiled gently. “I do. It’s never too late to try.”

“Can you tell me the name of the restaurant where she works?”

Tendō’s eyes widened slightly, and he paused before answering. “It’s called Sakura’s Garden. Are you planning to see her?”

Ushijima nodded. “I need to. Maybe I’ll run into her...by coincidence.”

Tendō gave a small nod of understanding. “Coincidence, Waka-chan?”

The walk to Sakura’s Garden felt longer than it should have, each step echoing with the weight of anticipation. As he approached the restaurant, his heart pounded in his chest. He stood outside, peering through the window.

And there you were, moving gracefully between tables. You looked different—older, more mature, and… tired.

He couldn’t stop looking at you. The years had changed you, but there was no mistaking the woman he had once loved. His mind swirled with memories and questions, unable to tear his gaze away.

“What are you doing here?” a familiar voice demanded, cutting through his thoughts.

Ushijima turned to see Asami, your best friend from high school, standing there with a look of disbelief and anger.

“Asami,” he began, trying to keep his voice calm. “I’m just visiting town.”

Asami’s eyes narrowed. “You need to stay away from her, from Y/N.”

Ushijima was taken aback by the intensity of her words. “Why? I don’t understand.”

Before Asami could respond, a small voice interrupted them. “Aunty?”

They both turned to see a little boy standing nearby, looking up at them with curious eyes. Ushijima’s breath caught in his throat. The boy had the same dark, intense eyes he saw in the mirror every day, the same stoic expression.

Asami’s eyes flickered with panic as she glanced at the boy. “Go sit down, sweetie,” she said, her voice strained but gentle. The boy nodded and returned to his seat, casting one last look at Ushijima.

Ushijima watched the boy, his mind racing. The resemblance was undeniable. He turned back to Asami, his voice filled with confusion.

Asami’s expression hardened again. “You need to leave, Ushijima.”

Ushijima’s thoughts were a whirlwind. He looked back at the boy, who was now quietly drawing, the resemblance striking.

Asami shook her head, her eyes filled with a mix of anger and pity. “Leave.”

Ushijima stood there, torn between the need to know the answer of his own question and the realization that his presence might cause more harm than good. He took one last look at the boy, feeling a pang of longing and regret.

“Please,” Asami whispered, her voice softening. “Let her be.”

With a heavy heart, Ushijima nodded slowly. He turned and began to walk away, each step feeling like a battle against the unresolved feelings and questions that plagued him. As he left, he couldn’t shake the image of the boy from his mind. The resemblance, the possibility—it was all too much to process.

But for now, he had no choice but to leave, carrying with him the weight of unanswered questions.

Why does that little boy looks like him?

Comments, notes and reblogs are appreciated! Feel free to let me know how you feel about this chapter <3

[burnyouwithacigarettelighter]

I was wondering if you do fluff/sfw fics, I love your writings! If so I would request some domestic fluff with one of cillians characters, I'm a sucker for that cute cuddly shit. <3

VISIONS OF SUCH SWEET DAYS ─── neil lewis 𖦹

ೃ⁀➷ “I hold you like the first time. I love your heart and all that you are. When I think of us it seems absurd to not believe in eternity.” — a letter to Albert Camus, María Casares.

pairing. neil lewis x reader

summary. domestic headcanons w/neil lewis!

warnings. tooth-rotting fluff, married life, domesticity, mutual pining, bestfriends-to-lovers

word count. 2.4k

a/n. ik this probably won’t get much attention cus theres no smut but this was sm fun to write!!! tysm anon & im so sorry requests are taking long to do😭schools taking precedent for me atm! also this wasn’t proofread i apologize😓 lastly, the title is from “apocalypse” by cigarettes after sex :)

P.S. THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR 2000 FOLLOWERS AHHHH I LOVE U GUYS SM!!!

Being in a relationship with Neil Lewis doesn’t change a thing at all. Your dynamic has stayed the same since you were just friends: you two were like an old married couple-- even before you did get married. 

For years, it made Jonathan and Lucien wrinkle their noses, and you ponder about the matter often, how lovey-dovey you two had actually been without even realizing it…

🎬 you used to visit him at work with takeout after he complained about forgetting his lunch over the phone. he’d light up when you walked in, why’re you here?! on his tongue before you lifted up the plastic bag, and he’d smile that boyish smile of his, warm and appreciative and so neil, the same sweet neil you’d known since you were young. 

“forget your lunch again, neil?” you’d grin. “i bet you could recite the seventh seal word by word but forget if you brushed your teeth this morning.” “you wound me!” he’d press a hand to his heart, theatrically pretending he’d gotten stabbed, “you don’t have to bet— i can recite the seventh seal word by word.”

🎬 when his washer broke, and he was too busy to get it fixed, you offered to wash his laundry for him. obviously, the thought of you handling his clothes — his intimates — had him mortified, so he suggested he just come over to yours and put a load in instead. still, the day dissolved into the two of you folding your laundry side by side, humming nostalgic tunes alongside your handheld radio. 

“oh, god, change the station,” he’d groan, haphazardly tossing one of his newly rolled up tube socks into a plastic laundry bin. “hm? how come?” you questioned absently. “they’re playing that song, y’know— from homecoming?” “when that girl -- what was her name, again? -- dumped you?” “ugh, don’t remind me and please, just change it already!”

🎬 with adulthood came change, and honestly, the two of you didn’t get to see each other as often as you wanted, so neil proposed that you spend at least one night a week eating dinner together. once, you decided to cook instead of eating out, but neil got impatient. he wandered over to your figure in the kitchen, whining that he was about to keel over and die since you were taking so long. you rolled your eyes, but relented, holding up the wooden spoon and letting him taste-test, asking if it was too salty or too sweet. maybe it was because he was hungry, or your food was something so nostalgic and familiar to him, but he absolutely melted at the taste, singing praises the entire night. 

🎬 sometimes you & neil’s movie-nights would drift off a little too late into the night, and the two of you would fall asleep on his couch together. you’d wake up, a strained, uncomfortable tangle of limbs and blankets, but you still felt right at home— snug against neil’s warm body, his familiar scent clinging to your skin. 

🎬 since neil rarely got out of the house, you made it your mission to expose that man to the sunlight as much as possible; you didn't exactly want your bestfriend to get jaundice because he was binge-watching humphrey bogart's entire filmography for days in a row. you’d take him everywhere and anywhere: the two of you would go to the sunday farmers market downtown, looking at all the booths and tents laid out, buying fresh fruit and vegetables as opposed to, what you called, “overpriced, super-market big-box store garbage”, to which, neil would say, “is this a dig at me? because you know i’m terrible at grocery shopping, i cant help buying whatever’s easiest!”

🎬 other days, you’d walk in the park side by side, taking in the fresh air and throwing bread at ducks despite the DO NOT FEED THE DUCKS sign in bright yellow, snickering like school children. 

“that one looks just like you,” you’d giggle, pointing at a particularly ugly looking one, flailing about in the water and splashing its siblings. “hardy-har, that’s very funny,” neil snorted, pushing you playfully. “jokes on you, it’s probably just like the ugly duckling.” “poor neil, is this your way of telling me you were switched at birth?”

🎬 sometimes, the two of you would sneak on top of your work building’s roof and, well, people-watch, picking a random person and dictating what you thought they were doing that day. 

neil pointed at a lady wearing a furry wolf costume, and you filled in what you thought. “oh, oh, she’s going to her kids' birthday! the guy they hired to be a wolf didn’t show up, so mom decided to do it herself.” “good on her, but i don’t think it's her kids birthday she’s going to…” he trailed off, and you looked at him confused, before he gestured to the fur-suit-wearing woman entering a strip club. “huh,” you’d blink, “kinky.”

🎬 despite the confidence he projects at gumshoe video, considering he dresses up in some silly costume every week, the guy is absolutely terrified at booking his own appointments. it doesn't matter what it is, dental or medical or even a haircut, he stumbles and hangs up at the slightest rise of panic within him. its funny the first few times, but you could not deal with it anymore after he was sick with something he “didn’t know” because he was too nervous to call his doctor. you booked the first few, but then you taught him, shoving the phone in his hand and pantomiming what to do silently in front of him. 

“uh, um, i’d like to book my - my-“ neil froze, mind going blank. you smacked your forehead lightly in exasperation, then pretended to inject yourself with a needle. “my, um, routine-- routine vaccinations!” 

🎬 it took a few tries, but he finally got the hang of it— a big achievement on his part, but your number’s still hooked up to his dentist, so you have to remind him every time that he has to book his cleaning. 

Nothing about your love has changed, not a single thing from back then, and honestly, maybe you loved him the whole time. Thought there certainly is a more romantic tone to your relationship now…

🎬 waking up next to neil might be one of the sweetest sights you’ve ever seen. usually, it’s him who wakes up first— he’s a light sleeper, while you sleep like the dead. your eyes flutter open, and there he is, piercing blue eyes drifting past your every feature. his gaze is tense and consuming but tender and loving all at once; you feel like he’s seeing through you, but it's in a good way-- you want to bare your heart on your sleeve for him because he does it for you. his hands are smooth on your side, holding you close, and he brings one up to cradle your face when he notices you’re awake. 

“goodmorning,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “morning, you little creep,” you grin against his skin, “do you watch me every morning?” he rolled his eyes, “not every morning… i can’t when you go to work early, obviously.”

🎬 your wedding is the funniest thing you’re ever experienced. sure, most people want it to be beautiful and perfect, but you were content with anything— hell, neil could’ve married you with just his cardboard cutout of ingrid bergman as the sole witness and you’d still swoon. it’s funny because your families have this chemical energy about them when they’re together— they get along like a house on fire, and it’s just, seriously, seriously chaotic. all your friends being there doesn’t help either, especially when you were 99% sure your other best friend, violet, was pickpocketing the plus-ones you didn’t know. 

“is that your aunt, or my cousin’s girlfriend?” neil asked in a whisper, taking a large bite of your red-velvet wedding cake. “i’m not sure…” you knit your brows, “but that is lucien asking for her number.”

🎬 you had gotten sick before with neil knowing before, obviously, but living with him while you’re sick means he makes it his personal mission to cater to your every need. he supplies you with dozens of pillows and blankets if you’re chilly, and will just as quickly fling them across the room if you break out a sweat. he’s by your side the whole time, even though you protest and fume that he’ll get sick too, but he says he doesn’t care, not when the love of his life is suffering. he’s so devoted to you, and it gets downright irritating at times like these, but you can’t deny how warm being showered in his love feels; being taken care of, doted on, his wide blue eyes peering into you for any sign of discomfort at all so he can quickly fix it.

just a single could i have some water? and neil’s hauling a thirty-six pack of plastic bottles into your bedroom. “just in case,” he pants, “dehydration’s a big problem when you’re sick, okay?!”

🎬 this man is a fiend!!! for spooning. little spoon or big spoon, he does not care okay maybe he likes being the little spoon a lil bit more he just adore having you near him. when he’s the big spoon, he pulls you real close, your face in the crook of his neck as he pets the back of your head gently, your arms wrapping around his waist. it’s the perfect angle because he gets to see your darling beautiful eyes looking up at him in the way you know he folds for every time. when he’s the little spoon, hes wastes no time in curling up against you, his head resting on your chest. theres just something so comforting about the position, be it your hands running through his brown locks, your legs hooked over his, or how his hands come up under your shirt and make you shiver, but you let it happen anyway, because you know how much he loves feeling your warmth under his fingertips. 

🎬 neil is terrible, downright terrible at cooking… but he is a genius when the oven mitts come out! his silly little cinephile brain apparently made ample enough space for him to hone his baking skills, and when he’s not working or watching movies or cuddling with you, he’s in the kitchen, flour unknowingly on his face as he beats the living hell out of some poor egg whites. 

“c’mere,” you usher him over, your eyes crinkling at his state: he was wearing a frilly hot-pink tartan apron with a heart-shaped chest — a gag gift you got him last christmas— while he piped chocolate ganache frosting on cupcakes. he drifted over to you absently, eyes still trained on the treats. they snapped straight over to you however, when you leaned in, presumably to give him a kiss, and instead darted your tongue out to lick the frosting on his cheek. “hey!” he gasped, face flushing as he scrambled to wipe away the saliva on his face. “you could’ve just said you wanted a taste.” “wouldn’t get such a cute reaction though, now would i?” you winked. 

🎬 when a song comes on that doesn’t bubble up traumatic juvenile memories, you’re quick to clasp neil’s hand on your own, letting the music take you wherever, be it in your kitchen or at gumshoe video.

“dance with me,” you said, like it was a question, but already pulling neil up by the arm off your livingroom couch. your arms hooked around his neck as his hands rested softly on your waist, a familiar and comforting pressure on the flesh as you two swayed back and forth in tune to the music. “do we have a song?” you wondered, shifting your feet on the hardwood floor and looking up at him through your lashes. “the one from our wedding, probably,” he answered, “but this can be it if you want.” it’s some song you’ve never heard before, but its a good one, something you both like. “sure,” you murmur, turning to the side and resting your head on his chest as he pulled you close, swaying still. “i love you,” you said suddenly, and you heard neil let out a soft exhale of breath. “i love you, too. i think marrying you was the best thing i ever did.” “i think letting the weird new kid sit next to me at lunch was the best thing i ever did.”

All in all, married life with Neil is a dream, and entirely what you expected: you understand him like you do breathing. this love for him is innate, ingrained within you, and you know its the same for him— the love he’s shown you this whole time is the same pure thing, a tender and married adoration.

You know your husband so well you swear you could pick him out of a group by heartbeat alone; how it skips and stutters at the sound of your voice, how his heart pumps with a love only he can provide. There’s no-one else but Neil for you-- no one. 

[disneyprincemuke]

where the fun begins, 4 * ls2 (ms47)

pairings: frat!logan x reader, college!mick x reader

word count: 2.8k

notes: surprise! hello gaiz i finally (poorly) finished fratlogan pls dont come for me gn

(f1 masterlist)

| one | two | three | four |

“yeah?” logan perks up with a scoff at you. “can’t pick who to nurse?”

you stand by frederik, shaking your head at logan in utter disbelief. you’ve always known that he’s always been a bit of an idiot, but never to this extent. it’s not often that you see logan battered up but you’re surprised that it had taken this long.

“oh, come off it,” you scoff. you look around your surroundings, only then noticing the several pairs of eyes on the 3 of you. you refuse to be the campus gossip on how you choose to handle the situation. you throw your arms in the air. “what are you looking at? go have your party!”

surprisingly, it works. perhaps it’s the fact that the quiet girl is asking them to scramble off that made everyone walk off. they knew there wouldn’t be much to gain from you anyway, considering how low you’ve been laying since you stopped talking to logan.

logan watches you walk across the lawn, shooting him a quick disapproving look before you approach mick. he scoffs softly to himself, moving liam’s hand away from him. he continues to hold the tissue against his nose, pulling it away to glance at the blood that its collected.

he returns it to his nose as he watches you take mick’s hand into yours across the backyard. he doesn’t even notice that frederik has walked towards him with questions spilling past his lips.

“hey, what happened?” your voice is gentle as you finally stop in front of mick. you take his hand into yours, gazing your fingertips over his knuckles that just only forming a bruise. you gently drop his hand and start scanning him. “did he hit you?”

mick’s gaze on you softens as he shivers every time you touch him. he shakes his head, still blinking rapidly as he tries to ground himself. in all honesty, he doesn’t know what came over him either. he’s not typically one to throw the first punch at all — every fight he’s gotten into thus far was born from the sheer need to defend himself after getting decked.

it feels like he had let logan get too comfortable speaking on your name that it had escalated to feeling the need to throw the first punch. he was going to simply walk away if you asked him, but hearing logan talk about you like that to him knowing that he’s seeing you only made him wonder about the things he’d tell his ratty friends.

for the record and in logan’s defence, he never speaks ill of you. and if you were to ask oscar, his theory is that logan’s ego is simply too big for him to lay his weapons down and admit that he’s fallen in love with you.

logan’s never said it, but oscar knows. oscar’s not stupid.

mick felt like he had to throw a punch just to remind logan who he was talking about — the girl that he was once also changing his lifestyle for. the girl that’s been cruising about campus without a problem until logan had swooped in way before he could muster the courage to talk to the prettiest girl he thinks he’s ever seen.

“i’m sorry,” mick finally whispers. he drops his head slightly, trying to meet your gaze. when he does, he tilts his head at the way you furrow your eyebrows in confusion and tilt your head.

“what are you sorry for?” you turn his hand over once more and graze your fingertips over his knuckles. “we should really get you an ice pack. your hand must be hurting like crazy. come on, babe.”

you tug on his arm towards the house, but mick just stays in his spot. “hey, what’s wrong? talk to me, mick.”

“i’m sorry,” he repeats, shaking his head. he sucks in a deep breath, glancing over at logan across the backyard, still surrounded by his frat brothers to nurse his bleeding nose. “i don’t know what came over me. but he was talking about you and in the moment, i felt like i had to do something. you should have–”

the warmth of your hand against his cheek cuts him off mid-sentence, his breath slowly steadying when your eyes meet his again. “it’s okay. why are you apologising? the important thing is that you’re alright.”

“you’re not at all curious why i’m untouched while logan’s sat there with a bloody nose.”

you press your lips together and shake your head. “you don’t expect to always be so calm, do you? these things happen, mick.”

but mick shakes his head at your response. these things happen, yes, but not to him. he should have just walked away. the last thing he needs is for him to let his anger consume him, causing him to act irrationally.

he feels you squeeze his hand. “hey.” your tone is firm, his gaze softening when he meets your eyes. “it’s okay. let’s just get you back to my apartment, okay?”

he nods, feeling his chest feel less constricted at the way you pulled him towards the house. you smile at lily. “are you coming home tonight? or are you spending the night with oscar?”

oscar smiles at you. “i can drive you guys back. i didn’t drink at all tonight.” he pats mick’s shoulder and sighs. “sorry again for logan’s behaviour, mate. i really don’t know what’s gotten into him.”

“ah, it’s alright.” mick takes one last glance at logan across the lawn before he disappears into the house with you completely. “you should probably ask him if he’s okay, babe.”

“he’ll be okay. we have a house full of first-aid trained brothers,” oscar waves mick’s concerns away, nudging both of you towards the front door.

mick stands his ground though, not moving when oscar expects him to. you glance at lily, eyebrow raised and she shrugs in return. you look at mick again, “what is it?”

“i really think you should talk to him,” mick says softly. “clear the air or something. or at least just ask if he’s okay.”

“mick.”

“i’m serious.” his breathing is steady and he no longer sways side to side. the pain after throwing the punch had sobered him up more than he wished, now suddenly seeing the bigger picture.

he doesn’t actually know what had gone down between you and logan. all he knew was that you had left one of logan’s parties early one evening and he offered to drive you home. he got your number, and suddenly 3 weeks later, he scored himself a date with you.

you barely uttered logan’s name, or even explained what had happened. though, he really has to thank george for finding out if you’re single. he had george ask alex, who then asked logan when they ran into him in the gym before he decided to ask you out on a date.

but seeing the way logan was so bothered, it must not have ended as well as you tried to brush it off. and judging by the way he acted in the bowling alley a week ago, it doesn’t take a genius to know that logan misses you.

“just talk to him. it might do him some good,” mick whispers with a grin. “i’ll be on the couch waiting.”

“see, i don’t think this is a very smart decision,” oscar whispers, tapping his finger on his lips. “this is logan we’re talking about. you want her to talk to logan alone? you literally just met the guy.”

mick shrugs, eyes still boring into yours with a certain assurance in his stance. he knows what he’s asking you to do — if you suddenly change your mind and decide that logan is the one for you, then he will not stop you. after all, he cannot dictate what’s good for you or not.

though the thought of you running back scares him slightly. he had spent so long mustering the courage to ask you out, get you in his arms, only for logan to throw a fit over something he had failed to cherish when he had it.

but you nod, shocking oscar and lily. “are you sure about this?”

“i’ll just ask him if he’s okay,” you say firmly, lips pressed into a thin line as you flash mick a small grin. “i’ll see you at the couch, okay?”

mick nods, letting oscar and lily whisk him away. it doesn’t take long for you to find logan — this isn’t the first time logan’s gotten into a fight during one of their parties. the american being a hothead is more of a common occurrence than not. just as you expected, logan is in one of the bathrooms upstairs with frederik and liam by his side.

“oh.” liam slowly drops his hands, surprised to see that you knew where they’d resided after yanking a drunk logan away from the backyard. “do you want to–”

logan immediately sees you through the mirror, just as shocked to see that you’ve come to him.

“yeah, can i have a moment with him?” you say softly, shyly pointing at the boy sitting on the sink top. “i just wanna talk to him for a bit.”

“are you sure?” frederik asks, ignoring the way logan looks at him in shock, flabbergasted at the way that it seems most of his friends are against him at this very moment. “do you need me to stay? he’s had quite a bit to drink.”

“i’ll be okay,” you grin with a nod.

frederik shoots you one last stare, in which you pat his arm to reassure him. he whispers to you after liam walks out that he’ll be right outside if you need him. and that leaves you with logan, in the crammy and clean bathroom of the house.

you can hear the music from the party softly, groups of friends cheering at the beer pong table and laughter from those on the dance floor. your breathing consumes the room, but one question remains in logan’s head: what the hell are you doing here?

you take a step forward, grabbing the damp towel that liam had hung on the rack. you take the ice pack lying next to his body and take another step towards logan, pressing it against his nose.

“why are you here?” logan says softly, barely able to look at you as you try and nurse him. if you just asked him, he had been wondering if you were going to walk to him instead of mick when you first stepped out of the house. he had gotten used to that scene whenever he got into a fight.

it’s comforting to see you here next to him.

“are you okay?” you ask, pulling your head slightly to meet his eyes. “your head must be pounding after that.”

he shrugs. “a little. but it’s nothing i haven’t gone through before. i’ll be okay.”

you nod when his hand comes up to hold the ice pack in place, his fingers barely grazing yours. you take a step back and hold your hands behind your back, pressing your lips together in a thin line as you tried to find the words.

there should be more to say than just asking him if he’s alright after mick punched him in the face. you didn’t say another word to him after you left that night you overheard him speaking to someone on the phone — you had just disappeared and removed yourself from the narrative.

“this doesn’t mean anything. i just wanted to see if you’re okay,” you whisper, now looking down to avoid his gaze. you glance at him, opening his mouth to say something before you cut him off. “and i wanted to explain why i ghosted you.”

he closes his mouth, sitting up slightly straighter at your words. this, he is interested in hearing. because to him, he had played his cards right.

“i overheard you on the phone with somebody at my last party here.” you try not to think of what happened often. whenever you did, it fills you with a kind of rage that you don’t usually feel. it just makes you so mad when you think of the way you finally let yourself be with someone and you found out that he had double crossed you in some way. “you were seeing someone while you were with me?”

logan feels his heart drop. he can instantly remember what phone call you’re talking about. he had left his room after he hung up, about 30 seconds after you overheard him and abruptly ran off to go home, then went back down to liam saying that you had left early.

he didn’t know you were there.

“let me explain,” logan sighs, shaking his head. he hops off the sink and takes a step forward, but retracts when he sees you press yourself against the wall behind you. “just hear me out — we weren’t together at the time.”

“that’s unfair of you to say,” you say, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “you never asked me to be your girlfriend. you just strung me along for months without a label.”

“i was going to. please, believe me. i just had so much going on.”

“it’s not fair of you to use that as an excuse. do you take me for some idiot, logan?” you fold your arms over your chest and take a deep breath. “what did you do with her?”

logan stares at you. the guilt of what happened that night eats him up, even after you had decided to leave him for good. “it was at a party. one of the nights you didn’t attend because you had something early the next morning.”

“i didn’t ask you when it happened. i asked you what you did with her.”

“it was just a kiss,” logan mutters, shaking his head. “it was just a kiss. it didn’t mean anything. i was so drunk. i don’t know.”

he holds his hands out, hopeful to hold you as he tried to explain himself. you hold your hands up to stop him in his tracks, jaw clenched. you blink, “why? logan, i tried to fit your lifestyle. you asked me out first — why would you do that to me?”

he slumps his shoulders. “i don’t know.”

“that’s not a good enough answer,” you take another breath, “say something besides that.”

“i don’t know,” he shakes his head. “you were never meant to find out. it was a mistake.”

“not good enough.”

logan takes a breath. “i’m sorry.”

and if he had said this earlier, maybe you would have given him another chance. “i don’t care if you’re sorry.”

he contemplates, but he says it anyway: “i love you.”

“you don’t get to say that to me!” your response is instinctive as you jump back, hand on your chest. that’s at least one thing you never expected logan to say to you. maybe you did, months ago, but just not now. not ever. “it won’t change anything.”

“i know. i’m sorry.”

“is that all you have to say for yourself? i– i liked you so much. i can’t believe this is where we are now.” there was a time that you saw logan in your future. it had looked hopeful the longer you stayed with him. you sigh and throw your arms up in the air. “i’m sorry — i need to go. i can’t even look at you right now.”

he nods, leaning back on the sink again. you spare him one more glance and he just shrugs, giving you a small and reassuring smile. a smile that told you that he knew that he did this to your relationship. “please take care.”

you were suffocated by the short conversation you had. you grin at frederik, keeping his word as he lingered outside the bathroom door, as you run over to the stairs. you grip at the railings as you walk down and catch a glimpse of mick on the couch, shaking his leg as he bit on his nail.

you don’t blame him for being a little thrown off when you let yourself be alone with logan.

you appear behind him and he feels his airways clear up at the sight of you. he takes a refreshing breath when you poke his cheek and smile at him warmly. “let’s go, babe?”

@cashtons-wife @darleneslane @namgification @happy-nico @nikfigueiredo @vroomvroomcircuit @localwhoore @foreveralbon @what-is-happening @angsthology @urfavenoirette @alliesreblogs @fxrmuladaydreams @cxcewg @adore-u-ls

[gojoshooter]

Your body flaws — that JJK men are obsessed with

Featuring : Itadori Yuuji, Megumi Fushiguro, Gojo Satoru, Toji Fushiguro

A/N : Had so much fun writing this one im surprised with my level of fluff tolerance fr.

WARNINGS : body insecurities, mentions of make-out sessions

Itadori Yuji :

your teeth ain't the prettiest

a few of them are crooked, and both your front rows are pointy and sharp

and getting yourself a boyfriend who smiles ridiculously sweet 24/7? yeah you thought that's a great idea

when you told him about your insecurity, he tilted his head to the side asking why you were because that was the part of your charm????

makes you laugh and smile as a way to distract you from the mindset you have

you unconsciously cover your mouth while laughing so sometimes he just pulls your wrists away to a steal a kiss

makes a habit of buying you adorable masks so you can smile comfortably

even if he doesn't get to see it everytime

you earn yourself the nickname "baby tiga" (& you lowkey want him to call you that often)

alternatively if you have an oral fixation along with it he'd ask you to nibble on his fingers or biceps

Megumi Fushiguro :

when he accidentally sees your youtube history about ‘how to get rid of hip dips’ he's like what???

you were sitting right beside him and oh did you want to evaporate into thin air

the half dumbfounded and half offended face he made was laughable, but you start to panic

"y/n, is that something you eat? you don't have to.."

Megumi is just so unpredictable hfdksk

by the time you're done with your explanation, his expression changes into a more serious one

he's okay if you have insecurities maybe he has a couple too

but thinking about yourself so lowly that you hid them all the time he's not okay with that

once back home he researches about the 'hip dips'

texts you, "babe, look"

and sends an article named 'Hip Dips Are Totally Normal, So Focus on These Exercises Instead '

your face blooms into a giddy smile helplessly, he's so cute

after you told him you're fine with him touching you there, he wouldn't hesitate

sacrificing his big fluffy hoodies so you don't need to hide your sides

special attention to your curves while you cuddle

Gojo Satoru :

moles. if there’s one thing you wish you could change, it’s the moles on your face

there's four of them — two on the underside of your left eye, one under the nose and one on your bottom lip

and Gojo thinks he has never seen a prettier face than yours

if you're sleeping he'd trace his fingers gently across them

and if you're making out, he'd enjoy giving little licks to the twin moles under your eyes and tiny bites on the rest two

you'd whine. you think he's about to kiss you, but he would go for the mole on your nose instead

once you mentioned about getting your moles removed, and god he almost JUMPED you

he'd say your moles (or alternatively freckles) look like stars scattered across, making a beautiful constellation on your face

you have quite a few on your other body parts too

and don't be surprised if he has a total count of them

sometimes you feel less insecure and more jealous of your four moles

Toji Fushiguro :

you're not a fan of the stretch marks and scars spread on your limbs

oh but Toji is

once you were on a call with your friend complaining about how Toji might ditch you 'cus of your body when he overhears the conversation

you cut the phone abruptly after realizing his presence and god you had no idea since when was he there

"y/n, you coulda told me right?" he says after a moment with an unreadable expression which he has mastered

the unnerving feeling doesn't go away as you try to lessen the tension with your whiny voice, "Tojiii... i.. i'm sorry. It just annoys me... and- and i'm embarassed."

"No, I thought you were honest with me"

your stuttering words gets saved as he begins again without waiting for a reply "I'm sorry you have to be be embarassed about me"

huh what? WAIT? you're confused asf

"They're bad.. fuck, you're right eh? should've done something about it. I'm getting em removed." he checks his face in the mirror, touching his lip scar which you very much loved.

you just stare at him, frozen, as he turns away from the mirror and reaches your side to lift your chin with two fingers

"then y/n, would you love me more?" there's this sly grin he has on his face, but you think just how that scar makes it better, hotter. "ya won't leave me right?"

it takes you time to process and then you chuckle. that's silly. "Toji, why would I leave you for something so stupid?" he's silly.

"Hmm, so why would I care bout somethin like that baby?" he asks lifting his brows

you finally realize why he did all of this

"god, i love you" you crack a smile, Toji tackled down on the bed

and now you know he loves your scars as much as you love his

enjoys resting his head on your tummy besides your stretch marks

can be very intimate with them too, trapping you on bed, licking the expanse of the marks slowly as his eyes never leaves yours and you're reminded of a predatory beast

A/N : fin♡! hope y'all enjoyed this one ^^ reblogs are always appreciated !

Tags : @luckimoon @maybekoya @lifting @zourryxv @bootylischous @feraltrashenergy @skypesblog @rain-in-the-clouds @acereads @regalillegal @popcorn-and-other-fun-stuff @ventiisoverparty @neitiaquinnpb @firebonbon @badum-tsss @cursedwitchsblog @silentsilverdrop @s1mp9000 @north2445 @sqitlet @th3h0nkz @aqua-marine89 @fermentedbeansinacan @evalynanne @okkotsufav @thickussupreme @mooonglod @203steph @originalgentlemenwinner @bluemuffindonutghost @kannra21 @matchakaii @abbacchi0s @aoitoge @jspenft @hecateria @ummmitstoru @dovahkiinsbitch @alexisblakes01 @selfawarejester

[extra-stout-stories]

Stuck At Work

Reblog if you like meet-cute soft feedist romance and fat4fat. Nothing scandalous or explicit in this one, just a tale of fast food fun on the job, written in response to this request. Thanks for the ask, anon!

--

She didn't mind being stuck at work with him for the night.

Tuesday nights were quiet after the dinner rush, with not many customers stopping in, either at the drive-thru or the counter. On really slow nights, like tonight, the manager sometimes had her cover both. She couldn't quite reach both the indoor cash register and the drive-thru window from the same chair, but it was just a couple of steps from one to the other, so she spent most of the downtime scrolling through her phone and sneaking glances at him.

He was busy in the kitchen, preparing burger orders as they came in and refreshing the contents of the french fryer and shake machines. He had a chair of his own that he spent most of his time in when it was just him in the kitchen, and she couldn't help admiring how deftly he moved, reaching with a calculated economy of motion to flip a burger with one hand and pull a shake with the other.

She couldn't help admiring his belly, either. Their shifts didn't overlap very often, and while they weren't the only two fat people who worked at the restaurant, they were by far the two biggest. She felt a sense of kinship with him. Kinship, but also attraction. The way his folds of fat seemed to swallow up the shirt of his regulation uniform, the way she could sometimes catch just a glimpse of belly peeking out at the bottom… the sight of him made her more than a little bit flustered, and she couldn't help imagining what he might look like with his uniform off, how deliciously big and soft he'd be if she had him in her bedroo--

Snap out of it, she thought to herself, as the intercom of the drive thru crackled and she punched in an order for a cheeseburger and two kids' meals. He'd think you were crazy if you told him about feedism. And you're not supposed to flirt at work. She sighed. Even a slow night's work kept them just busy enough that it was hard to carry on a conversation in more than snippets, and after the disaster with her last boyfriend she had gotten cautious about admitting to guys that not only did she not mind being fat, she liked it, and she liked it when they were fat too. Another lonely night at the register, she thought to herself before sneaking another glance at him. His back was turned, and she could see his enormous rolls of backfat quivering in the snug uniform shirt as he reached to dip another basket of fries in the fryer. At least I get to enjoy the eye candy.

The intercom crackled to life again. The car was definitely full of teenagers, and they were definitely drunk. Or high. Probably both. She tried to make out the names of particular value meals from the din of at least four or five voices shouting their orders, changing them halfway through, cracking up laughing for no reason, circling back around to ask for the same thing they asked for in the first place. By the time they were finished she had cued up a half-dozen burger meals with sodas, three chicken meals, two extra baskets of fries, and (thanks to a particularly loudmouthed voice who kept saying "I can't decide!" in a mock whine), a trio of extra-large thick shakes, one each of chocolate, strawberry and vanilla.

"Big order coming in, huh?" She could just hear his voice over the crackle of the fryer. Her double chins quivered as she turned her head to see him smiling. "Yup. At least it's the last one for the night. 11:59 on the dot."

"I'll get to work." He was as fast and efficient as ever, and a moment later she was hefting herself up from the chair with a grunt and stepping over to the window between the kitchen and the register where he had just placed a tray of food. Suddenly she blushed. My shirt is riding up, she thought. Gripping it with both hands, she tugged it down quickly and fiercely where it had started to expose a few inches of her own swaying lower belly. Fortunately, his back was turned again. She reached for the tray of food.

"Wait, there's more. Since we're closing up, I'll just bring the rest out to you now. That way you don't have to make two trips."

"Thanks." She took another few steps and slipped into the drive-thru booth, her hips just barely brushing the doorframe. She set down the tray and slid open the window to pass the bags out. Behind her, she heard the kitchen door open.

Suddenly, there was a sound of coughing and laughter, a deafening roar and a streak of light as the car sped past the window, a screech as it braked suddenly at the turn out of the parking lot, and a final roar as it sped off into the night.

"Damn it." She slid the window closed and turned around. "Dine and dash."

"More like drive-thru and das-- WHOA!"

She hadn't realized he was almost on top of her at the entrance to the booth. How did she not notice? He must have stepped towards her just as the engine was revving. With the same swiftness he used when he was juggling the fryer, the grill and the shake machine, he managed to drop the tray he had been holding while catching the handles of the bags that had been sitting on it. He instinctively stretched out the other hand out to steady himself, though, and it crashed straight into her shoulder, sending her spinning at an angle back into the drive-thru booth. Losing his own balance as she stumbled, he swung forwards, just barely avoiding a crash into the plexiglas window as he caught himself with his shoulder against the wall opposite the one where her back was pressed.

They were face to face and belly to belly.

"Whew." For a moment all they could do was breathe, heavy and ragged with the sudden exertion. She saw him try to take a step back, only to find that between the window and the doorframe, his ass and thighs were wedged in so tightly by the pressure of their bellies that he couldn't do it. He tried again.

"I think we're stuck." There was such a sheepish look on his face but she couldn't help laughing. And with her face just a foot or two from his -- their bellies took up a lot of space -- she was even more struck than usual by his boyishly charming eyes, his quivering triple chins, his enormous fat cheeks that dimpled as he smiled back. "What a way to end the night, huh? At least it's closing time."

"This is like something out of a fetish cartoon!" she blurted out. Oh my god. I can't believe I just said that.

"Like a what?" There was a quizzical expression on his face, but still a hint of a smile on his lips.

"I mean -- it's like something you'd see on the Internet."

"Yeah? Where on the Internet?" He laughed, and when his belly began to jiggle, hers did too. She realized suddenly that both of their shirts had ridden up, and the bottoms of their bellies were touching, skin-to-skin. Despite the embarrassment of the situation, and the further embarrassment of putting her foot in her mouth, the sudden realization was electric. It felt so good, so warm, so fat…

Snap out of it! she told herself once again. "I don't know," she said, suddenly desperate to change the subject and get out of the booth. "Places."

"Places, huh." The smile on his face was still there. "Well, talk about places. We're stuck in the drive through booth." He managed to extend an arm out to pull the curtain down over the window. Reversed from their vantage point, the letters on the opaque plastic curtain read: CLOSED.

"There you go. Now at least nobody on the Internet will see us." He grinned. "I'm not sure I can get out of here without either tearing my shirt off or giving myself a nasty scrape on that doorframe. But at least we won't starve to death." He wedged one of the bags between their bellies, opened it up, and pulled out a double cheeseburger.

She couldn't help laughing. "How can you be so relaxed? We're stuck in the booth!" Something about his tone of voice was putting her at ease, almost like he didn't mind being stuck here with her, their fat bellies pressed together as their shirts rode up. But that's silly, she thought to herself. He's just trying to calm me down.

"Well, there are worse places to be. And like I said, we're not gonna starve." He unwrapped the cheeseburger and took a bite. "Unless I get flensed by that doorframe, it's actually pretty comfy."

"Flensed?"

"Yeah. Strip my blubber off. I mean, I am kind of a whale." Seeing the sudden blush on her face, he grinned. "C'mon, I know I'm a big guy. And a big guy's gotta be able to have a sense of humor sometimes. Like when he's stuck in the drive-thru booth with the cutest girl on the entire fast food strip."

At that, she blushed even further.

"Aren't you hungry? You don't eat when you get nervous?" He popped the last of the cheeseburger into his mouth, reached into the bag, and pulled out an extra-large carton of fries. "But seriously, I've seen how you look at me sometimes. You're an FFA. It's obvious. And I'll be honest, it's hard not to look at you that way sometimes, too."

Her breath had returned to normal from the shock of crashing into him, but her heart was beating faster now. He laughed and lifted a handful of french fries to her mouth. "Here, eat! If we're stuck here forever, at least it'll be a good last meal."

The mouthful of moist, juicy fries was what finally put her fully at ease. "You're right. A good meal and good company." I can't believe I'm doing this, she thought as she reached a hand out to touch the side of his exposed belly. "I'm glad it was you and not the manager."

He smiled. "That's for sure. You know I never said anything to you because it's against HR to flirt at work, right? But so is eating the food from a dine-and-dash. And I'm pretty sure getting stuck in the booth is against the rules too. So we might as well enjoy ourselves."

"Good thing those kids ordered all three kinds of shake."

"You can say that again. If it were just vanilla I'd get bored." He winked. "Tell that one to your mysterious Internet site, big girl."

She laughed. "Okay, you got me. It's feedist stuff. How did you know?"

"I can see your phone from the kitchen. You're not supposed to be scrolling 'hashtag: fat boys' at work. But I don't mind. Do you think I got this fat by working at a fast food restaurant?" He paused for a beat. "Well, okay, I did. But doing it on purpose was the fun part."

"Mmm. Can I do this on purpose?" Squeezing his belly with both hands, she leaned in to kiss him. With her tongue already in his mouth, mingling with the lingering taste of the french fries and anticipating the milkshakes, all he could do was put a hand on her own exposed belly and squeeze back yes.

She didn't mind being stuck at work with him for the night.

[hayleythecannibal]

Twisted Minds: Act II- Chapter Twenty-One Su-zakana

TW: Crime scenes, Gore, Implied Death, Death, Attempted Murder, Cannibalism, Framing, Guns, Animal Death, Psychopathy

Warning this is Fem!reader. You can also find this on Wattpad and A03 under the name @HayleyMarieOfficial. Comment if you want to be added to the taglist.

Taglist: @punkin-time @miaowkitty @gabriella-aesthetic @urlocalfanficwriter @dilfdemolisher

Twisted Minds Masterlist

HANNIBAL LECTER'S HOUSE - DINING ROOM - NIGHT-

Will sits next to Y/N and Jack Crawford sits across the couple as the fish is placed between them. Hannibal pours wine. “Truite saumonée au bleau with vegetables and broth, served with hollandaise sauce on the side. Beautiful fish, Will.” Hannibal comments with delight. He’s Back.

“It was my turn to provide the meat.” Will responds and I take a deep breath. This man obviously doesn't care for his safety, but I guess I don't either if we think about it. “More flavorful and firm than farmed specimens. I find the trout to be a very Nietzsche-ian fish. Trials  of his wild existence find their  way into the flavor of the flesh.” Hannibal serves food onto each of their plates. Then: “I hope "providing the meat" doesn't  mean you still harbor doubts about what I serve at my table. As Hannibal sits. Will doesn't answer; Jack answers for him.

 “No doubts, Dr. Lecter. Only the wounds we dealt each other before we got to the truth.  Which is why we need to move past apologies and forgiveness. Chilton has many victims besides the dead.” Jack looks at Will, nods at this. “We will absorb this experience and it will change us. We are all Nietzsche-ian fish in that regard.”

“Makes us tastier.” Hannibal considers Will. “None of our actions were personal.”

“I tried to have Hannibal killed. Isn't that personal?”

“You thought I was a killer. a very Nietzsche-ian fish. Trials of his wild existence find their

way into the flavor of the flesh.” Hannibal serves food onto each of their plates. Then: “I don't blame Miriam Lass for shooting Frederick Chilton. I wanted to kill him myself.“Jack looks from Hannibal to Will. Unwilling to commit.

“Greatest crime now would be to walk away from what we've shared and suffered. In many ways, we need each other. We're the only ones who will know what this feels like.” Hannibal says with looks towards me and Will. 

“This fish is delicious.” I eat my Food and hold Hannibal's gaze.

HORSE STABLE - NIGHT-

Hannibal studies the dead horse's face, running a hand across its neck, almost unconsciously. Jack standing over him. “I agree with the pagans. The horse is divine. All beasts of burden are sacred animals.” I walk over to them,  “This kind of mutilation often presents as cult activity.” Jack says as he watches as  BRIAN ZELLER unpacks his kit next to the WOMB WOMAN, now lying on a sheet of plastic. JIMMY PRICE stands over the horse, photographs the sutures and incision. He cranes his camera, trying to get a good angle in the abdominal cavity. “When an animal's sacrificed, it's presumed the power of the beast will be psychically transported to whoever's offering up the goods.” says Jimmy.

“Which is why sacrificial animals should be healthy, without any defects. This horse was dying.” I say in my approach. I greet everyone with a smile as I sip my coffee.

“Its womb was more or less intact.” An ULTRAVIOLET LIGHT suddenly shines down on her revealing a constellation of SMALL BRUISES on her throat. Brian Zeller is holding a PORTABLE ULTRAVIOLET LAMP. “Victim was deceased before she wasenwombed. Ecchymosis of the subcutaneous tissue is consistent--She was strangled.” Zeller tucks the lamp away, grabs a flashlight and peels back an eyelid to find the whites of the eye are BLOOD RED.

“She was scrappy. Put up a fight.” Y/N, Jack and Hannibal watching and listening nearby.

“The horse is a chrysalis, a cocoon meant to hold the young woman until her death can be transformed.” Hannibal comments, “Transformed into what?” Jack looks at Hannibal with curiosity. I blankly stare at the poor woman who was taken too soon. But the person who carefully sewed her into the womb of the horse is not the same person who killed her out of rage.

“Life. A new life. This is a birth. Or it was intended to be. This is every bit as much about giving life as it is taking it.” I say as i finish my coffee. “What's the thinking?” Y/N studies the macabre madness laid out before her.

HANNIBAL LECTER’S OFFICE - DAY-

Hannibal sits in his chair, observing Margot by the window. “Mad dogs are put down.”

“That what you hoped to accomplish when you attacked your brother?” Hannibal Inquires “Apparently, I went about “putting him down” the wrong way. He’s still alive. Should have waited until my arm was healed.” Margot says turning her head towards him slightly

“Doing bad things to bad people makes us feel good. Did you feel good trying to kill your brother?” Hannibal tilts his head slightly. “Trying wasn’t terribly satisfying.” Margot blinks. 

“What’s your relationship with your brother now? Has it changed?” 

“I think he thinks I’ve calmed down.”

“Have you?”

“Oh, I’m calm.”

“Are you going to try again?” Margot stares, studying Hannibal. “This is where therapy gets tricky.” 

“It doesn't have to be tricky.” Hannibal says calmly. Margot snorts. “I could confess to a murder and you can’t say a word. I could’ve killed someone this morning and you can’t say a word. But if I’m planning to commit a murder…”

“I am ethically obligated to take action to prevent that murder. Be that as it may, if there’s no one

else to protect you, Margot, you have to protect yourself. It would actually have been more

therapeutic if you had killed him.” Margot considers Hannibal's loyalties –

 BAU - MORGUE - DAY-

Jack observes as Zeller and Price hover over Sarah Craber on the examination table.

“She was a horse groom at the stables where her body was found. She was reported missing last week.” Jimmy explains, then Zeller continues. “Her throat's obstructed. Soil. Someone packed it down there pretty deep. There's none in her teeth.” He uses a small tool to remove a CLOD OF DIRT from her throat. There's a RUSH OF AIR as Zeller unplugs the clog. Jimmy leans across the body with an evidence bag, collecting the dirt clod Zeller pulled out and fishing for others.

“I'll check the pH levels, see what organic matter or trace elements we come up with. Should be able to find out where it came from.” Suddenly, Jimmy jumps back, a frightened look on his face.

“She has a heartbeat.”

“She was in rigor–”

“There's no pulse.” Zeller feels for a pulse on her carotid. “She has a heartbeat.” Jimmy swears as he points to her chest. “She has a heartbeat. We have a hand-spread on her neck, but we haven't found anything on her but horse uterus.” Zeller says as he feels her chest.

Zeller opens the victim's mouth. Shines a light inside.

“The uterus isn't always such a safe, nurturing place. Shark fetuses cannibalize each other in

utero. And chances are very good that everyone in this room has absorbed a twin. Mine survived. She has a heartbeat.” Jimmy says as Jack steps forward, feels the woman's chest.

“Something's beating.”

He cranks the rib spreader and CRACK. Zeller continues to crank the rib spreader, cracking the ribs as they spread. A moment as he leans in for a closer look at the chest cavity. A still moment, then: FWUP FWUP FWUP FWUP FWUP A ROBIN flutters out of the corpse's chest cavity and flutters wildly about the room. As Zeller and Price cover their heads, Jack stands his ground, unfazed.

HORSE STABLE - DAY-

Horses in the stable stalls. Nervousness communicating between them like an electric current.

WILL GRAHAM Walks backward from FRAME right across the stable in front of the horses, their heads turning to follow him. Will holds a thick case folder under one arm. WILL STOPS. Looks down at the folder. It is open to a CRIME SCENE PHOTO of the barn. The dead horse and Sarah Craber's body. Will closes his eyes. 

The ORGANIC HUM of his CIRCULATORY SYSTEM is loud in his ears. A PENDULUM swings across the blackness behind his eyes. FWUM. FWUM. It clicks into place. WILL'S EYES OPEN. He now stands --

HORSE STABLE - NIGHT-

Deep rural darkness. Will looks to the horses in the stalls. Nervously moving and stamping.

“I don't want you to see me. I don't want you to see what I do. I want to calm you, comfort you.”

He slides cloth hoods over the horses' heads. Strokes their necks. Murmurs gently. Calming them.

“There's so much comfort in darkness. But not for one of you.” Now Will is leading a horse from its stall. The dead horse to-be. It too is hooded and stands calmly as Will strokes its neck. And then slides a large needle into its neck. Will holds the horse's head lovingly.

Will stands over the now-dead horse. WIDE on the open stable doors framed like a proscenium arch. Centered within them is Will Graham; the dead womb woman in his arms. He bears her gently, like Lear carrying his beloved Cordelia. Will carries her to the dead horse. Places her gently on the ground.

next to her, a small, DRAPED CAGE. Will pulls away the drape to reveal the robin which immediately begins to flutter inside. “I took your life and then tried to give it back to you.”

The robin flutters in its cage. Sarah Craber stares, her face smeared with dirt, mouth full of soil… Will takes a KNIFE and begins to slice open the horse's abdomen. It's hard work and takes real effort.

“I find its womb, place you inside.” Will's back to the birdcage. It is now empty. Sarah Craber is gone, too. TIME HAS PASSED and Will is now stitching up the wound in the horse's belly. “I hope that the forces of death and biology will bring you rebirth.” Will stands and stares at his handiwork.

HORSE STABLE - DAY-

Will holds the open file in his hands. “It's a coffin birth.” Y/N and Jack standing nearby. “I thought it was, Decomposition builds up gasses within the putrefied body and pushes the dead fetus out of its mother's corpse. It's really more of a prolapse than a birth.” 

“Not to whoever did this.”

“Whoever did this knew the horse. Knew she was dying because her foal was born dead. Knew Sarah Craber. He's familiar with the stables. He knew when he wouldn't get caught. He works here or maybe used to. He has medical knowledge of animals, but isn't a veterinarian. He considers himself a healer.” Will says he walks over next to me.

“How is this healing?”

“Sarah Craber was reborn. And a mother and her child are finally on the same side of life. This wasn't murder, Jack. This was grief.” I say to Jack as he is considering our next move –

ANIMAL RESCUE - DAY-

Two weathered buildings stand in a rustic setting, the animal rescue and, beyond it, a LARGE-ANIMAL BARN where the black horse looks out over its stall door. The SUV pulls up and stops. Jack and Will in the front seat.

Will and Jack approach the doors and find them open. Share a look and then Jack pulls the door aside and they enter. It is dark inside, but full of low noises...

SCRATCHING, SKITTERING, SQUEAKS and BREATHING. Like the room is somehow alive.

Jack KNOCKS on the doorframe. And the room explodes with NOISE. On every wall, floor-to-ceiling metal cages contain small WILD ANIMALS in different stages of medical care. Raccoons, skunks, squirrels and birds of all kinds. All now going crazy with AGITATION.

“Scare them when ya' knock like that.” Y/N, Jack, and Will turn to find PETER BERNARDONE, a weathered, lean man. Wild-looking himself. A scar on his forehead. “Peter Bernardone?” Jack asks as Peter moves past them, his focus on the animals as he lowers DROP CLOTHS over the cages, immediately quieting them.

“You don't seem curious who we are.”

“Who are you?”

“Agent Jack Crawford. FBI. This is Will Graham. And Dr. Y/N L/N. We'd like to ask you about someone you might have had contact with when you worked at Blackbriar Stables. Sarah Craber. Her body was found recently in very unusual circumstances.” Jack explains as he approaches the wary man. “I heard.” I notice that Peter doesn't like to make eye contact. He’s fidgety, but not erratic.

“There was a bird in her chest. Did you hear about that?” I ask softly, Peter stiffens slightly: “Is 

“Yes.” A flicker of relief flashes across Peter's face. “Who's taking care of it?”

“How well did you know Sarah Craber?” Jack asks, not entertaining any talk of the bird. “I didn't know her.”

“Would you mind looking at a photograph for me?” Jack pulls out a picture. Peter shakes his head, turns and murmurs to his animals. “I know who she is, I just didn't know her.”

“Just to be sure.” Reluctantly, Peter takes it. Will is watching him closely.Taking a deep breath, Peter turns his line of sight away from Jack. Reaches for the photo. Looks at it closely, then

repeats the same pattern. Looks away from Jack. Then hands him the photo. Under this, Me and Will exchange looks.

“Peter, you had a head injury when you worked at the stables.” I ask Him gently. “I was kicked by a horse.” Jack looks at Me. “It's an atypical motor response. Peter's ability to look and touch can only happen as separate events. Aggravated by stress, isn't it?” Peter glances at Me, exposed and somehow understood.

“Are you feeling stressed?” Asks Jack. “I'm worried about the bird.” He plays with his fingers anxiously as he looks at the animals. “A woman is dead, Mr. Bernardone. And you're worried about a bird.” Jack says, frustrated. “I'm sad for her, I'm sad for the horse. But I can't help them. I can help the bird.” He turns away and goes to the cages. 

As We walk back to the car: “He knows the victim. He knows the animals involved.” Will says logically. Jack nods. “We'll need a warrant.”

“I don't know if he's the killer, Jack. If he is, he never meant to be. If he isn't, he knows who is.” I say knowingly and usually I am right. Peter might not be the one who killed her but he definitely is the one who sewed her body into the horse's uterus.

HANNIBAL LECTER'S OFFICE - DAY-

Will sits with Hannibal. Mid therapy session. “You were able to reconstruct his fantasies. One dead creature giving birth to another. The bird, his victim's new beating heart. Her soul given wings.” 

“Rebirths can only ever be symbolic. en reborn. en reborn. Wasn't that the goal of my therapy?” Will adjusts himself in his seat. Manspreading. “How does it feel consulting again with Jack Crawford and the FBI? Last time it nearly destroyed you.” Hannibal Tilts his head.

“Last time you nearly destroyed me. At least I still have Y/N.” Hannibal sighs. “After everything that's happened, Will, you still believe–”

“You can stop right there. You may have to pretend, but I don't.” Hannibal stares at Will, smiles, then: don't. Not with me.

“I don't expect you to admit anything. You can't. But I prefer sins of omission to outright lies, Dr. Lecter. Don't lie to me.”

“Will you return the courtesy? Why have you resumed your therapy?”

“Can't just talk to any psychiatrist about what's kicking round my head.” Hannibal gauges Will thoughtfully, then asks: “Do you fantasize about killing me?” “Yes.”

“Tell me. How would you do it?” Will considers that a moment, then: “With my hands.”

“Then we haven't moved past apologies and forgiveness.”

“We've moved past a lot  of things. I discovered a truth about myself when I tried to have you killed. And another when I heard Y/N almost died”

“That doing bad things to bad people makes you feel good?”

“Yes. And that I would do anything to keep Y/N safe.”

“I need to know if you're going to try to kill me again, Will.”

“I don't want to kill you anymore, Dr. Lecter, not now that I finally find you interesting.”

on Hannibal as He slides a FBI file towards Will, The Intitials, C.E.B. on the tab. Y/N Elizabeth L/N. “What’s this-?” Will asks confused. “You should know who you're protecting.” 

FIELD - NIGHT-

That the grave is at the center of FIFTEEN other graves. Nowwe see POLICE VEHICLES. BAU TECHS move in and out of FRAME. Large SPOTLIGHTS turning night into day. Brian Zeller stops his work as he sees Will Graham approaching in long strides towards Y/N. A long beat. Then he approaches Will.

“I owe you an apology.”

“You don't owe me anything.”

“I thought you were a killer. Didn't want to hear anything else. So I wouldn't consider anything else.”

“The evidence was compelling.”

“Didn't stop Beverly questioning it. If she thought we'd listen, maybe she'd have come to us.” She didn't. And there is the pain for all of them. Brian Zeller holds out a hand. Will shakes it. As they part, reveal Jack Crawford and Y/N standing behind them, letting them get it done. He looks at Will. “We tracked the soil in Sarah Craber's mouth to this vicinity. Methane probes did the rest. Found her empty grave. Then found fifteen others that aren't so empty.”

“If Peter Bernardone knew about Sarah Craber's grave, then he knew about all of them.” 

“Still think he's not a killer?”

WILL GRAHAM’S CAR - DAY -

I get into the passenger seat of Will’s car. We sit there for a moment in silence, watching the FBI personnel vehicles leave. “Y/N…..” I turn my head and look at him. What's that look on his face? Why is he looking at me like that? What does he know? Will sighs deeply. “Why didn't you tell me you killed your mother….”

My eyes widen. No. Those files were sealed. Jack assured me- “Will- I- How-” “Hannibal had the file” My brows furrow. “He shouldn't have had access-” “Y/N just tell me-” I look down at my Hands, flashes of the gun, bodies and blood splatter comes back. “I had just come home from cheer practice…..I was sixteen and I was the oldest of 7 children…..” I tear up remembering my Brother's Faces. “I was the only girl ...When I got home that day…. I didn't expect to see my Brother's bodies on the floor……” I hear Will take a deep Breath. I've told this story many times…but it's never easy.

 He grasps my Hands. “I tried to look for a pulse on any of them but ...they were all gone. Even my dad. When i saw my mom i was holding my youngest brother Peter. Mom was covered in blood but didn't have a scratch on her….”

“She Had Killed my family, and she was going to kill me too” Will lifts my chin, “I’m so sorry….” He hugs me as I cry in his arms.

ANIMAL RESCUE - DAY-

Will sits on one side of the examination table. Peter sits on the other side. The bird is between them, acting as a buffer as Will coaxes conversation out of Peter. “Said you're worried about the bird. Thought you might like to see it.”

“Isn't this evidence?”

“I'm not FBI. I used to sort of be FBI. But now I'm really not.”

“What are you?”

“I'm figuring that out. You might say this is some kind of therapy.”

“I've already got a social worker.”

“Therapy's not for you, it's for me. The agent I was here with. He's coming back with a warrant. He'll arrest you, impound your animals. And it will break your heart.” Will says 

“I didn't kill anybody. I didn't, but that's not always relevant. What did you do, Peter? They found Sarah Craber's grave. How did you find it?” Will says  Peter's attention drifts from Will, focusing on the robin. “Funny how you can develop an individual language with an animal only you can understand. No one else knows, not even other animals. This one's already speaking to me.”

“This one's spoken to you before. At some point, almost every culture believed birds carried our souls the afterlife They can't all be wrong” “You think I think this bird is Sarah Craber? She's gone, she's everywhere and nowhere.”

“Tell me who killed her.” Peter goes still, thoughtful. He regards the bird. “After something so ugly, I just wanted something beautiful for her.”

“You were grieving her. You couldn't save her, but you could bring poetry to her death.” Will says calmly.

“I wanted you to find me. If you could find me, you could find him.” Peter says as he watches the bird. The caged bird. Maybe Peter himself is the caged bird, trapped by his shadow. “Do you have a shadow, Peter? Someone only you can see. He's someone you considered a friend. He made you feel you weren't alone. Until you saw what he really is, and it made you even lonelier.”

“No one will believe me. He'll make sure no one will believe me.”

“I'll make sure they do.”

BAU - INTERROGATION ROOM - NIGHT-

Y/N is with CLARK INGRAM, late 30s, neat, smiling. The TWO-WAY MIRROR is at Y/N’s Back. Mid conversation: “Every social worker enjoys some aspects of the job more than others. There are cases that you reach and cases you don't reach.” Clark regards, “Your notes on Peter Bernardone's file are drastically different than the ones from his last case worker.” I say as I go through his reports and look up at him. 

“The social services system is far from perfect. It's common to omit certain information on difficult cases to clear a path in the world for those stuck in the weeds.”  I nod my head softly,“His sort of traumatic brain injury can make someone more vulnerable to psychological disorders.” 

“Post-concussion syndrome. He's had persistent cognitive problems. Confusion, paranoia, rage. Would have refused his case if I'd known.” He says his eyes are emotionless. Hello shadow…..“You don't seem to feel sorry for your client. A surprising lack of empathy in a social worker. “ I say looking into his eyes.

“Bernardone has accused me of murdering sixteen women.” He says with a clench of his jaw but his composure never breaks. “How does that make you feel?” I write down his actions, and what I observe. “Right now I'm feeling inconvenienced. I'm being detained on the word of one very damaged individual.”

“You're not being detained, you're being interviewed. The FBI is just being thorough.”

I bend to scribble a note. Ingram's smile falls. When she looks up, he smiles again. Automatic. A mask. “What are you writing down?” “An observation.”

“About me?” I smile at Ingram and seemingly instinctively reaches out to touch Ingram's hand on the tabletop. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable.” He pulls his hand away. His face changes, eyes become still and cold. Then he smiles again, forcing charm back through.

“Did you know Sarah Craber?”

“No. Peter talked about her extensively during my house visits. I'd say he was obsessed with her.”

“You think Peter Bernardone is capable of murder?”

“I'm not a psychiatrist, Dr. L/N.” Y/N nods, makes another note.

“I'm curious, Mr. Ingram. Why did you become a social worker?”

“Society needs caring people.”

“It also needs a few psychopaths to  keep the rest of us on our toes.”  He leans forward, the smile gone now. “There is no evidence I did this. It's a statement of fact for him, not of innocence. And if you want to know how I feel, I feel like I don't want to be here anymore. If I'm not being detained, I'd like to be on my way.” I watch him without speaking.

ANIMAL RESCUE - NIGHT-

Oddly quiet and still. Dark inside, but the low noises we've heard before are absent. Peter walks inside and senses something is wrong. Turns on a light to find – THE WALLS OF CAGES Are all empty. Their doors thrown open. The food and bedding tossed haphazardly about.

Peter moans deep within himself. Turns and exits --

Peter comes out running and heads for the large-animal barn. He rushes inside.

ANIMAL RESCUE - LARGE-ANIMAL BARN - NIGHT-

The horse lies dead on the floor amidst the pens and stalls. Bleeding out from a head wound,  next to a bloody hammer. Peter drops to his knees and strokes the horse's head. A shadow falls across him and he turns to see Clark Ingram standing behind him. Incongruously, Ingram holds a bloodied hammer, a tuft of black horse hair stuck to the blood.

“What have you done, Peter? I'm worried about you. You've been expressing a lot of rage recently.” Peter stares at him as if he were mad, tears welling.

“So often in my line of work, I see people take out their resentments on those closest to them. It's a sad fact of human nature. And your brain injury leaves you prone to extremes of emotion. The way you think is compromised. Peter, you're destroying your life.” Peter is realizing how realistic this version of events sounds. Shakes his head. Agitated. Hating the kernel of truth behind these lies.

“Sarah was a sad reminder of all the things you'll never have. And that's the very horse who

kicked you in the head.” Peter looks at the horse. “She was scared, she didn't mean to.”

“Some will say this was a long-time coming. I know I will. Already have. Sixteen women, Peter. You killed the first shortly after your accident. You killed them because you weren't worthy of them.” Clark sounds so plausible. He smiles at Peter, suddenly his eyes are so cruel. “You Killed them”

“If I had killed them, it's because I decided they were worthy of me.” His cruelty and malice are too much for Peter who quietly eyes the hammer in Clark Ingram's hand .

 ANIMAL RESCUE - NIGHT-

Hannibal's car comes in and Will exits. Will rushes toward the shelter with a now awake Y/N trailing behind him. Will and Y/N enter. Scan the room. Realizing the place has been ransacked. Will stares at the devastation. Hannibal appears behind him. Will draws his gun, turns and rushes back past Hannibal.  Y/N and Will run across the yard to the large-animal barn.

“Peter?! Peter Bernardone?!”Will enters the barn.

ANIMAL RESCUE - LARGE-ANIMAL BARN - NIGHT-

Peter Turns and looks at Will and Y/N. His face is streaked with blood. A cut on his head. Peter is kneeling before the dead black horse, a pool of blood spreading around him from the terrible wound in its abdomen which he is fin Hannibal appears at Will's shoulder. Will lowers his gun.

Will and Hannibal are still looking at Peter on the floor by the dead black horse.ishing stitching. The horse's belly is horribly distended. “Peter….is your social worker inside that horse?” I ask softly. Peter nods.

“We are hardwired to see human beings everywhere. Every animal. Every life. We're all human.”

“Even God is personified.” Hannibal says softly. “He couldn't see that. He forfeited his humanity. I forfeited mine. I used to have a horrible fear of hurting anything. He helped me get over that. Feels so abnormal.”

“An abnormal reaction to an abnormal  situation is normal behavior.”

“He deserves to die.” WILL, sad for Peter. “But you didn't deserve to kill him. I want you to come with me, Peter.” Peter nods, stands and allows Will to lead him from the building and out into the darkness beyond. HANNIBAL Taking in the scene, the metallic tang of blood thick in the air as he sniffs it. He turns away and considers the night sky.

the dead horse in the background. The flesh undulates. Guts spill. And then, as a BLOODIED HAND forces its way out, grasping for ground.

ANIMAL RESCUE - NIGHT -

Peter Bernardone moves sadly through the wreckage, righting things, picking up cages, etc. Like a bereft mourner in the space of a lost loved one. The absence pains him  “Cowbirds lay their eggs in other birds' nests. Tricks them into raising their chicks. But a robin knows when it's being used.”

“Did you know?”

“I didn't want to know. If a robin removes a cowbird's egg from its nest, the cowbird will destroy that nest, eggs and all.” “Out of spite?” “It's not spite. Spite is uniquely human. We just don't understand why the cowbirds do it.”

“What was done to you was cruelty for cruelty's sake.” Peter opens empty cages, as if to coax the animals home.“Some of them will survive on their own. Some of them won't. Some of them will come home. But I won't be here when they do, will I?”

“No.” “I hate him.”

“I envy your hate. Makes it much easier when you know how to feel.”

“Makes what easier?” “Killing them.”

“I didn't kill him. I wanted him to wake up in death and choke on it.”

ANIMAL RESCUE - LARGE-ANIMAL BARN - NIGHT -

the black horse's body to reveal Clark Ingram as he stands, fouled with blood and slime. Hannibal has his back to Clark. Smiling as he feeds a handful of meal to a PIG in a stall.

across the floor, past Hannibal, toward Clark. As we get close, we RACK FOCUS from Clark's nightmarish slick face to the steel of the hammer still clotted with gore… He bends and picks it up. Reveal Hannibal watching, bemused and impressed.

“Mr. Ingram.” Clark stands still, momentarily thrown by this polite greeting.

“Might want to crawl back in there, if you know what's good for you.” Hannibal turns his head and Will Graham steps out of darkness, coming INTO FOCUS as he enters the barn, gun raised before him. Hannibal steps to one side. Watching, fascinated. Will approaches Ingram.

As Will approaches with the gun, Ingram sees murder in his eyes and drops the hammer. it drops into the dirt and falls sideways. Clark holds out his arms and drops to his knees like a

penitent. Smiles up at the advancing Will. 

“Officer, I'm the victim here.”

“I'm not an officer. I'm a friend of Peter's.” His face falls as Will cocks the hammer. “Peter's confused.” the barrel of the gun to the cocked hammer and then Will's face beyond.

“I'm not. Pick up the hammer.”

“Will.”

“Pick it up.”

Will's finger tightens on the trigger. His gaze and expression become steely and inscrutable.Hannibal moves to Will, a devil on his shoulder, whispers: “It won't feel the same, Will. It won't feel like killing me.”  “It doesn't have to. I know what it will feel like. It'll feel good.”

“You did the best anyone could do for Peter, but don't do this for him. Not for Mr. Ingram's victims or their many friends and relatives who would love to see him dead. If you're going to do this, Will...You have to do it for yourself.” I say as I kiss him on the cheek softly. My hand stroking his arm.

“Please don't.”

“You would be wise to remain silent, Mr. Ingram.” I say firmly. To see him dead would make me glad. Wish i could do it myself, but not today…not right now. I want to see what Will would do.

“This is not the reckoning you promised yourself, Will.” His finger so tight --the trigger CLICKS -- the hammer FALLS -- HANNIBAL'S FINGER, between the hammer and firing pin. Will looks at Hannibal as Hannibal slides his hand around Will's and pulls the gun away. Hannibal talks quietly to Will and I: 

“With all my knowledge and intrusion, I could never entirely predict either of you. I can feed the caterpillar, whisper through the chrysalis, but what hatches follows its own nature and is beyond me. You truly are a Butterfly Y/N.”

[cupidsdescendant]

Mercs helping with Periods (Part 3)

GENDER NEUTRAL :DD

AM I OKAY?!??!! (changing the name bc the original was about periods in general and not just cramps) THE LONG-AWAITED ENDING OF THE SERIES AHHHH- I wanted to do part 3 for hella long but my ass forgot for like....4 months lmao- (NSFW WARNING FOR MEDIC'S PART)

Spy:

-ugly stupid frenchman who doesn't care about anyone but himself

-but this is fandom so you think I really care? no.

-He's a womanizer, man. like his ass doesn't know what a period is.

-Anyways he's super romantic! Always showering you in kisses everywhere, stomach, neck, shoulders, everywhere!

-"Aw, Mon Cheri~ Vill this make you feel better ?" He lays you on his bed and pulls your shirt up kissing all around your hip bones and belly. You giggly tell him to stop cus it tickles.

-Whenever you lash out at him/get angry if he does something you don't like he smoothly gets out of being punished

-Like you could be fucking furious but his ass will make you fall for him once more in less than an hour

-Massage expert. Like. Massages anytime anywhere.

-He's the one that makes baths for you to relax your muscles in

-the few times he's physically romantic (like with the kissing) he hugs you and holds onto you more often

-He actually sleeps in the same bed as you! Win win!

-When you get hungry he makes you food <3 mostly french food but he's open to making you something you crave

-THEE. shoulder to cry on dude. He comforts you so much and whenever you latch onto him his body is all warm. presumably from all the smoking

-He doesn't want you to talk to the mercs while you're on your cycle because if they say something slightly offensive he doesn't want you to be hurt by them

-"You all must be less of imbeciles while shes around, le bien?" He says angrily pointing at everyone. They all nod nervously, they don't really want him sneaking up on them anyways

-Oh how he loves his Mon Cheri <3 everything just for them

Medic:

-the one i've been waiting for, for so long.

-As an ex doctor, Medic is always caring and loving with you

-He's the one that asks you to take pamprin or other menstrual medication

-He knows when your period comes after a bunch of tests, and after all as his love he wants to make sure he's always available!

-Coddles you 24/7, he treats you like you're bed ridden and only wants you to stay in so he can take care of you <3

-He's always trying to make sure you're okay. At the drop of a hat he would zoom off to you if you yell his name

-"Oh vat's wrong, liebling?" He says as he rubs your aching stomach. He would lay his head on your stomach and hum.

-Always feeding you, does the stupid airplane thing if you're acting angry

-Speaking of angry, if you lash out to him he usually ignores it and continues to baby you.

okay. I'm sorry but I had to write a NSFW part because he legit. like. the demons in my brain are telling me to (NSFW WARNING AHEAD)

-He's into period sex, he finds it fascinating. absolutely hot.

-He already has fun teasing you with blood on his hands after surgery, so having your own blood on him turns him on 100%

-likes the smell. yeah i know it's gross but what do you expect from a fucking freak doctor who stole a patients skeleton

-"Did jou know sex is a great way to relieve menstrual cramps?" He taunts you as he kisses you up against your neck.

-Knowing you're on you period turns him on so much. All he wants to do is fuck you until there's blood on over your thighs

-Now this man is disgusting and unsanitary but! He still gives you showers and baths, of course, he has to be in it with you.

-He likes watching the blood fall from your legs and down the drain, usually muttering the most unhinged horny things in german.

k I'm sorry. like. fr. Thanks 4 reading though!

[thoughtformchoreographer]

VYVYAN WAPITI. - My Trollsona! :)

So I received a few questions about who exactly Vyvyan is, and I am making this post to answer properly.

He is my trollsona! :) And also a character that I very shamelessly inserted into my Ampora ask blog because there is something wrong with me. Also, I am not a virgo, I am actually an aquarius (go fucking figure), and Vyvyan is only a jade blood because I took a quiz and it said Jade better fit me personality wise, and honestly I kinda agree. Anyway- this post will include some art of him, and also like, basically everything about him, for anyone who's interested. <3

(Sorry if any of the art is low-res. I had to compress some of it cus I work on big canvas sizes :( )

HOMESTUCK MANDATED CHARACTER FACT FILE:

NAME: Vyvyan Wapiti (Pronounced Vivian Wah-pee-tee. Vyvyan is my middle name, and Wapiti is a type of deer.) HANDLE: thoughtformChoreographer AGE: 12 sweeps old (at the time of the ask blog. During Sgrub, he was 8.) GENDER: Male, he/him` HEMOSPECTRUM: Jade blooded LUNAR SWAY: Derse GOD TIER: Sylph of Mind QUIRK: Starts sentences with --<<, meant to represent a tree. Ends sentences with 4242. . Replaces a/A with 4, and s/S with 2. Speaks with full grammar and punctuation, using caps and more punctuation for exaggeration. Will also occassionally use smiley faces in his text. LAND: Land of Trees and Change STRIFE SPECIBUS: Lanternkind SYLLADEX MODUS: Confessionary Modus (Every item in his sylladex is assigned an emotion/thought process. Vyvyan has to outwardly say how he is feeling or express a self affirmation to get an item out of his modus, which is a good way of keeping himself and processing his feelings on the regular.)

WHO EVEN IS THIS DOUCHEBAG? WHAT DOES HE DO? WHO DOES HE THINK HE IS?

Vyvyan Wapiti is known on Earth-C as the "licensed professional who owns the Nature and Rehabilitation Centre". He is in charge of the facility, which is basically a mixture of a rehab centre, private hospital, mental ward and nature exhibit all in one. He is also part of the "Sburb/Sgrub Rescue Team" which will be mentioned later. He was granted these positions by Karkat, and Karkat was also the one to assign Gamzee to him as his first (and most prioritised) patient. Gamzee was incredibly volatile and was struggling to recover when first introduced to Earth-C, and everyone else was too scared or ignorant to try and help him, so Vyvyan took up that role, and his condition has since improved. He is, however, unfortunately stuck in rehab possibly for the rest of eternity, and lives there with Vyvyan.

Vyvyan makes occassional appearances in the Ask The Ampora's ask blog as Dualscar's caretaker, also. Dualscar appears to dismiss Vyvyan quite often and refuse his care, of which Vyvyan imposes on him, as jade blooded sylphs typically do.

WHAT'S THIS GUY'S DEAL?

Vyvyan appeared in Earth-C along with his friends (Castor, Linnea, and Autumn) after having completed Sgrub with flying colours and basically as little difficulty as it gets with a game so complex and traumatising. There is little explanation for why these 4 did not reap their reward of a new universe, however they all agreed the game must've deemed their session too easy, and decided they should merely live in someone else's won universe as opposed to creating their own. None of them are unhappy with this, as they were each granted positions they are quite content with, Vyvyan especially.

He and his friends run the "Sburb/Sgrub Rescue Team", a group dedicated to contacting players from doomed or infertile sessions to try and save/preserve/console them in numerous ways that would not disturb the flow of time and space. Most of these endevours are somewhat fruitless, however, they did manage to save the "Stuck...Stuck?" crew.

OKAY, BUT LIKE, THE JUICY STUFF. WHERE'S HIS TRAUMATIC BACKSTORY?

Back on Alternia, prior to Sgrub, Vyvyan was a very atypical troll. For starters, jade bloods are already rare as it is, especially male jade bloods, as most are female. Not only that, but he was not the most responsible of trolls. He was in charge of caring for a mother grub, as all jade trolls are assigned to do so. However, having lived in deep forest for most of his life, he became addicted to the effects of mushrooms he found within said forest. The effects of the hallucinogenics he would ingest quite often would leave him very mentally and physically unwell, and unable to properly care for his lusus or himself. One day, his mother grub died of unknown causes - however, Vyvyan's neglectfulness and deteriorated mental state was the main blame of this untimely death. The mothergrub was too young to have created a matriorb, and Vyvyan was sure to be culled for the failure he had become. However, when sitting aimlessly waiting for death and nook deep in a bad trip, a similarly atypical deer-like lusus found him. He was adopted by it, and given a second chance instead of slaughtered like any other in his position would have been. His new lusus quickly corrected his behaviour, teaching him what was/was not safe to forage, how to help himself, and eventually, how to help others. As Vyvyan grew up, he realised there was not much mercy on Alternia for those struggling from mental disorders. The heavy stigma meant there were almost no outlets for support. His big dream was to create something similar to the human concept of therapy and counselling, but for Alternia. This was an impossible feat to accomplish, until, of course, Sgrub happened. When introduced to Earth-C, Vyvyan was finally given the resources needed to create such an outlet for trolls in need of help. And he now spends his days spreading this kind forgiving treatment to anyone who may require it.

WHAT A LOSER LMAO.

Anyway yeah!!! Thats my lil guy :)

Some additional info ig:

He is dating Autumn, @digitalminstrel's trollsona (she is my gf irl :3 hehehehe!!!! <3 )

He is close friends with Linnea (@henryscircus) and Castor (@seeingstarzz)

Vyvyan is NOT a rainbow drinker, but feel free to ask him about this!

He and Gamzee are soulmates, however have not properly discussed this and therefore have not realised their potential for moiraileagence. This is because Vyvyan's JOB is to look after Gamzee, and Vyvyan does not properly realise how defensive he can get with Gamzee even when not in his presence. To his other patients, it is quite obvious he has a favourite. The 50/50 is Vyvyan acting as the stand-in lusus Gamzee never had, and Gamzee being on his best behaviour and even physically protecting Vyvyan like a guard dog should he become endangered (which happens unfortunately often, as some of his patients can be quite volatile as Alternian trolls are not entirely used to the whole idea of therapy).

He still likes foraging, and part of his daily activities with recovering patients is going on long walks, specimen watching (birds and bugs), observing rivers and other natural structures and (Gamzee's absolute least favourite) early morning hiking.

Vyvyan's quirk is a nod to 42 being my special number. It is also a nod to 42 being the answer to the universe.

He has a very slight lisp

Vyvyan does not speak to all of the heroes and doomed trolls on Earth-C, however has interacted with Eridan (who visits Gamzee sometimes), Tavros (who visits Gamzee frequently), Equius (who comes to rehab for anger management and anti-castism), Karkat (who appointed him to have such a facility in the first place), Gamzee (his first patient), and Sollux (who is contacted whenever the Rescue Team base encounters power outages or other technical difficulties.)

Vyvyan is diurnal, and unfortunately, Gamzee is now as well. Most of his other patients are nocturnal, and so Vyvyan sometimes does both day and night shifts. He wants more people to work at the centre with him to help him run it, however the only person who tried to sign up so far was Kankri, and Vyvyan did not see him fit to be a therapist just yet. (--<< Ther4pi2t2 need to uh... Do le22 t4lking, 4nd more 4ctu4l li2tening to their p4tient2! 4242.) ANYWAY YEAH so thats my trollsona. Thank you for reading if you at all bothered :) feel free to ask him anything!

[arafilez]

MOOT GAME: " make up a trope for your moots and their biases. doesn’t need to be romantic. can be crackfic/funny. ^ㅇ(๑>◡<๑)ㅇ^ "

WHOEVER YOU ARE, THANK YOU FOR SENDING THIS.

warning: idk some of you THAT well but i tried my best TT so bear with me. this is supposed to be a simple game but my perfectionist ass smh. ALSO i think four or five of my moots aren't here, i am sorry you guys, idek what to write abt y'all since we don't talk that much or you are a newww moot, let's talk more. really sorryyy.

—ㅤ @haneagerr x HAN JISUNG .ᐟ — ㅤtrope: best-friends to lovers .ᐟ

alexa is the type to sulk and be real quiet unless she meets someone who can bring out her craziness. so when jisung meets her on first day of high-school it's really quiet with muted replies from her. but then with gradual encounters extreme poking and loudness from hanji she releases her equally as loud self. and somewhere down that line, they realise they actually like each other a lot since they are so compatible and basically know each other's everything. and comfort? just each other.

—ㅤ @kyrjnie x KIM MINGYU .ᐟ — ㅤtrope: fake-dating .ᐟ

aquaintances in their workplace? or maybe a classmate/seatmate. the point is they don't know each other THAT well. but mingyu's adorable personality just makes her soft for the boy. plus he is helpful and brainy, so when val gets into a bad situation he decides to help her out, except they break every rule of fake-dating in the book ever. and they blame everything on the fake stuff LIKE THERE IS NO FAKE???? anyway they gradually understand (or their frnds make them do cus both of them are actually so cute and oblivious)

—ㅤ @hotteoki x JEONG YUNHO .ᐟ — ㅤtrope: grumpy x sunshine .ᐟ

no skits ain't grumpy, she has the best assortments of memes IK OKAY!! but this girl and her dm replies, god they are late! which shows her as grumpy. unless well yk someone climbs up her walls and claws down whatever is making her forget. so i think yunho would be the perfect person, always grinning with that ADORABLE SMILE and nagging her (in a good way). omg they are such adorable cuties in my head.

—ㅤ @fairyhaos x JOSHUA HONG .ᐟ — ㅤtrope: strangers to best friends .ᐟ

yena is such a sweetheart and joshua is too, i feel like they would just meet by chance, for example they took the same bus or something like that. and these two would just strike up a random convo that would fit both of them so well. like yk when you meet a person and they click instantly? THAT!! so even if their routes change they will still hang out, do crazy stuff, be a partner in crime (not literally or maybe literally idk) they are just each other's safe place

—ㅤ @daesukiii x JUNG WOOYOUNG .ᐟ — ㅤtrope: workplace romance .ᐟ

i am gonna have some fun now. so dae is so workplace romance coded and woo just fits every trope (let's be real now). imagine the scenario, wooyoung gets things wrong, he DOESN'T KNOW OKAY and god his loud whiny ass just makes it worse. so dae decides to help him till he gets the point (spoiler: he doesn't) but even when he does he purposely does shit wrong 'cause one- he is a menace, two- he can have dae close to him. and the rest is history (not really, woo messes up while he tries to ask her out making her help in that too lmao)

—ㅤ @weird-bookworm x CHWE HANSOL .ᐟ — ㅤtrope: matchmaker gone wrong .ᐟ

here's a simple advice, never let kwon soonyoung be a matchmaker. you know the twist? he match-made so many people he mixed them up and numbers got swapped. so now sky is staring at an american boy awkwardly smiling when she was supposed to meet someone named seokmin. they stare weirdly at each other before realising but they can't let a reservation go to waste so they do have the dinner. the whole thing is so awkward and quiet but it isn't uncomfy. hansol keeps telling weird stuff and sky just listens until they realise maybe this isn't SO bad (thank you hoshi). they do end up getting e/o numbers at the end and they do happen to meet up more often (they call it friend's meet but we all know so shut up)

—ㅤ @eightmakesonebraincell x PARK SEONGHWA .ᐟ — ㅤtrope: enemies to lovers .ᐟ

this will be fun. so loren is well, fun. a very different kind of fun. she is creative, spontaneous, has the most unhinged replies. so when she meets hwa who is quiet, maintains everything and reserved personality they DO NOT hit it off at all. and seonghwa just wants to avoid her at all means 'cause he does not want it wrecked all over. well too bad, because they have the same friend circle! it is always the push and pull, the tension and goodness the bickering over the smallest things. it is just seonghwa loosing his patience and loren having fun with it. until one day they realise that maybe they aren't intolerable (yk how the rest goes YES MAN I AM TALKING ABT THOSE SHY GAZES)

—ㅤ @potatomountain x KIM HONGJOONG .ᐟ — ㅤtrope: neighbours .ᐟ

i am saying this in the nicest way possible!! this friend of mine needs care okay!! and who is better at it than kim hongjoong? well, everyone. the man hardly knows how to take care of himself, forget about doom. but, that is where the cuteness lies. they complete each other yk, someone forgets something, the other keeps track (unless they both forget and panic rush into stuff) plus staying next door has its perks, they can share stuff, they have stories (teas) about other neighbours to share. overall they have a wholesome, homely and almost domestic relationship until they realise it one day OH!

—ㅤ @quhrtz x KIM TAEHYUNG .ᐟ — ㅤtrope: childhood friends to ? .ᐟ

it is just the idea of her and tae being friends from childhood making me swoon so bad. like she has social anxiety so always having a person to lean on is just so comforting yk. and tae is perfect with that adorable boxy smile of his and he doesn't have to worry about her not opening up. because they just know each other so well. bonus, they know each other's everything too so every hurt comes with comfort and every laugh shared is meaningful. and slowly it might develop into something more.

—ㅤ @sxmmerberries x KIM GYUVIN .ᐟ — ㅤtrope: meet-awkward .ᐟ

ik you are lurking here anyways so i added you too. picture a quiet café, people having nice conversations or quietly working and amidst all of that berry is having an awkward staring contest with a stranger (who is beautiful). like they are just looking at each other and staring? if that makes sense. ricky and gunwook are trying to make sense of the situation but they can't so jiwoong sighs, takes matters in his own hands and pushes gyuvin towards her. cue another awkward standing and staring at each other till jiwoong coughs AGAIN and they finally talk (somewhat) ANYWAYS IT'S A WIN OKAY, THEY GOT THEIR NUMBERS OR SOCIAL IDS WHATEVER.

[trans-cuchulainn]

What do you think about using Irish as a stand-in for a dying Indigenous language in a Gaelic-inspired fantasy story? It would be spoken by sí, but also just be the native language colonialism has done a lot of damage to. If you don't have the time/spoons to answer this, completely understand and I appreciate you just having your ask box open and taking the time to read this. No ill will meant, your earlier post is just making me reconsider things. I am am Irish person, but I've been living abroad most of my life.

i am not the irish police or anything but i think it is worth considering the impact of continuing to use irish in fantasy as an unnamed magical or dead language that belongs to the distant past without naming and acknowledging it as a real language that real people speak everyday in the real world

because a lot of people will see this unnamed language and think "this is a fictional language" or "this is a dead language" and then when they see irish IRL it will seem magical and mystical and they won't think about it as something entwined with politics and language rights and funding and people's everyday existence

and a lot of them will also not realise it is irish at all. it is obviously difficult in a fantasy setting to refer to things by their real names but you can often tell the difference between an author with knowledge of irish who has deliberately chosen to use it to evoke certain real world parallels, and an author who has borrowed it because they think it's mystical and none of their readers will be able to understand it (and part of the difference comes from how the reader is cued to experience that language and indeed whether it appears to occur to the author that the reader might well understand every word of it)

there are certainly ways to use Irish in fantasy that are respectful and whatever, but i would caution that having otherworld beings be the speakers (i assume this is what you mean by "sí" although usually the word needs a person word with it since it refers to the place not its inhabitants, hence aes sidhe, daoine sidhe etc) and presenting the language as a "dying" language feels like it falls into some of those harmful tropes

(irish in the real world is a minority language, but it is also language with a growing number of urban speakers, new words being coined all the time, influencers and social media as gaeilge, growing support for language rights in the north, etc. that doesn't mean it's not endangered. but it does mean it is not a relic of the past found only in forgotten villages that haven't changed in 100 years, and the popular depiction of it hasn't really caught on to that fact)

but also i'm not the irish police. i'm not even irish. the language is not in my blood, i just went out and chose to learn it bc it interests me (maybe this is part of why i resist the Magical Language Of Our Ancestors spiel so much)

[yesloulou]

Hi friend.

Actually just today, my friend and I was talking about Daniel after the race. He’s been watching F1 for way longer then me. I expressed my concern over the last two weeks even though this is only the beginning of the szn. He said and I summerised, currently DR can only be in midfield teams is cus while he dose have the skills, he’s too unserious for like SF or MER, but his unseriousness brings great publicity for midfield teams.

I think in some aspects this may be true. But It’s just, like, idk, thought of this hits me. I know this jester aura (?) often surrounded him and people saying it’s great for marketing and stuff, but isn’t that a bit unfair tho? Maybe DR is always DR, way before F1 he is DR, and now all of a sudden his a publicity stun.

(feel sad for millionaires)

Idk what will happen after this szn but I really hope he keeps racing.

You know when you look at someone and look at what they do, you just go like, yeah for sure that’s what they do? I look at Daniel and I have this feeling. He’s a racer, always have been and always will, maybe he’ll go to Indy or some other competitions if this doesn’t work out, but in heart he’s a racer, he belongs to the track and the speed.

That’s just how I feel, and don’t really know who I can say this to, so thank you for letting me vent.

Wish him all the best for home race.

this is so sweet (the way you worry for daniel's prospects) and '(feel sad for millionaires)' got me irl lol 😭 your friend sounds like he's watched f1 for a long time but i would disagree with his conclusion. i provide that:

allegedly ferrari decided to not go for daniel after seeing him dance with daniil kvyat in the pit lane to entertain fans during rain delay at usgp 2015. the situation first of all was fortunately and unfortunately more nuanced than daniel being "unserious". the ferrari at the time was also run by arrivabene during bernie ecclestone's f1 reign. the ferrari today, two team principles later and after liberty media's f1 takeover, has changed in many ways. for example, in 2022 they had charles and carlos do this tiktok trend which definitely, definitely flirted with "the boundaries" (whatever that means) way more. so no, even tho daniel doesn't drive for ferrari, i wouldn't say he is "too unserious" for them.

merc is considered a more "corporate" environment in f1, example is valtteri's change in public image after leaving mercedes. however given that at the end of 2022 toto went as far as literally wearing daniel's merch in an attempt to reserve him for mercedes, i'd say obviously they don't consider daniel "too unserious" either.

publicity in f1 just generally cannot be a bad thing. more people interested in watching a driver means more sponsors willing to pay $$$$ to put their names and logos onto their livery. and more $$$$ means better chances at making a faster car, which is a goal of every team's. one can argue that a successful and financially secure team like red bull or ferrari might not be attracted to the benefit of a driver's popularity as much. but again, sports rely on viewership to sell broadcasting rights and ad spots, and publicity just generally can't be a bad thing.

i know the first two races were not great but this season literally just started. nothing is real yet. and daniel at least ended this week on a positive note so even more reasons to look ahead. the thing about f1 is that there is one winner and nineteen others. so as long as you're watching you're basically guaranteed more bad days than good ones. we can't all be watching bc we all believe our blorbos will be wdc, right? we watch and hope that something good might just happen. like if you think about it even though daniel has been out here causing us stress all these years he still manages to pull off minor to major miracles every year or two. this hopefulness is very precious so i say we watch it for that.

anyways. i hope this made you feel better and more excited about the season ❤️❤️❤️

[angel-sweets666]

Sweetheart~

The creature x fem!reader

a frilly pink outsider from New Orleans finds a undead love sick man, and doesn’t know what to do with him! chapter one Warning: swearing, possible drug use, murder.

word count 1,325

A/N HIIIIIII, I sent an ask to a writer on here a few days ago and I had the idea to write the fanfic myself! just thought it would be cute and I wanted to try and write it in my own style! This is gonna be in multiple parts in a series! Hopefully about ten parts maybe more with some one shots in between while writing (by the way I haven’t watched Lisa Frankenstein yet because it’s not out in Australia so im obviously going to be missing a few parts, I’ll try to fit them in as flash backs)

It had been a few days since *name* had found The creature, he broke into her room after leaving her mother’s rosary on his grave. Since then *Name* had been keeping him hidden away from her family in her closet, however trying to hide him from her snoopy step sister, taffy; seemed to be easier said then done. change of pov

“I mean! Is it so weird to drink milk from the carton?” You asked this zombie thing, he stared at you then shrugged “your soooo much help…” you rolled my eyes. “So like… is it peaceful down there? In the grave?” You questioned him, he slowly groaned and shook his head; his way of saying no “I would ask what’s it like but I’m far too lazy” you giggled, placing a joint into your mouth then turning your head to look at him. The creature looked disapproving, but as of right now he couldn’t show much emotion; he didn’t have eyebrows and was missing a hand and his ear. “What? People smoked cigars in your day. You probably smoked cigars!” You exclaimed, he groaned and reached his good hand to try and “confiscate” your joint “ah! No. This was a good $30.” You pulled your hand away “I’ll quit, trust. Anyways, WHAT DO I WEAR TO SCHOOL” you groaned

You ended up finding an outfit that both you, taffy and the creature agreed on. A light coloured (your choice) wool sweater, a black mini skirt, some black leggings, white leg warmers and black Mary Jane’s with little bows on them with your hair curled and in a half up half down with a bow. This frilly pink style often got you picked on and snickered at by your peers, you looked like THE biggest girly girl in the whole world. It was 1989 and you weren’t exactly the most popular.

in the car

Taffy grinned to you “soo… anyone you think is hot yet..?” She giggles “Uhm…. No” I chuckled “oh.. that one guys kind of cu-” “WHO TELL ME RIGHT NOW, NO WAIT DONT TELL ME, NO WAIT DO. DO TELL ME” she squealed into your ear “that uh.. micheal Trent guys kind of cute” she made a face “eaugh….” (Honey you slept with him…..) “what..?!” You yelled “WHY HIM?” “CAUSE HES A CUTIEE” “whatever you say” “I do say, I do” you rolled your eyes “yk most sisters are supportive right?” You told her “Mkay, they support good decisions” she said as she turned a right the car “schools to the left taf’” you reminded her “I wanna get some iced coffee” she said like it was nothing “WERE GONNA BE LATE” “SHUT UP NO WERE NOT JESUS H CHRIST”

after school (sorry for all the time skips but this is a creature x reader not let’s watch taffy and reader argue about coffee)

“uGHhhHhH school suckeds” you groaned as I walked into your room, slumping against the wooden door resulting in it shutting, the creature looked at you with furrowed brow, confused by the statement “yes they let girls go to school. It’s 1989 get with the times” the creature groaned and lifted its hand or rather lack there of “I can’t.. I can’t just get you new parts…” you told him, shrugging. He threw a little zombie tantrum, groaning and flopping onto the bed“calm down calm down!” You yelled as you tried to hold him down, grabbing his upper arm to hold the undead man in place “look I can’t get get you new pa-“*NAME LAST NAME*” a horrible screech came from your step mothers throat, clearly trying to pick yet another fight. “Go go go” you said quietly as you ushered the creature into your closet, shutting the wooden door in his face. “…yes..?!” You replied to her, she opened your door “what.. the hell.. is wrong with you?” She gets into your face “what I do?” You looked confused to her “you’re talking to yourself, throwing things. You lied to us telling us our house got broken into! That was fine china you threw!You’re going crazy aren’t you? Trying to get the towns attention because you had your old towns attention? Your nothing but a joke, a mentally ill joke.” She snaps “huh?!” “You know what I’m going to throw you into a mental facility, just to get rid of you…” you gasped, shook your head and backed away slowly “no…” you whispered, trying to avoid such misery “yes.. impatient lock down!” You gasped again “special socks n all” suddenly, a loud smack and a sickening cracking noise. The creature had grabbed the old sewing machine and slammed it onto Janet’s head “oh good lord..” you backed away and began to whimper, the creature waddles towards you and tried to hug you to calm you down, wrapping his strong but cold and dead arms around you. You whimpered and cried since now you felt like your responsible for a dead woman. He pulled away from the hug, made a groan then twisted his body towards the night table and grabbing the scissors off it. The creature leaned down and slowly, sliced off Janet’s pierced ear. The red blood poured down her makeup caked face, going down with the blood she was already gargling up and onto the carpet. The creature stood up, and held up the blood covered ear, offering it to you. With shaky hands you slowly grabbed it “d-do you want me to Uhm.. uh.. oh god…sew it back on..?”

The creatures cold and curly haired head laid in your lap, as you secured Janet’s now amputated ear to the left side of his head, double checking it was inline with the rest of his head and in the right spot for his side burns. “I don’t think.. can you hear out of it..?” You asked, yanking at the ear “can you feel it?” You questioned the undead man again, he groaned “okay yeah I forgot you don’t have a tongue.” You sighed

(flash back)

“maybe you wanna try laying in my tanning bed? Get some colour in ya?” Taffy suggested as she pat your cheek “I’m good, that thing would electrocute me.” You chuckled as you applied lip gloss, trying to get ready for a party that taffy was going to drag you to then have to take you home early like she always did. “Cmon! You’ll look good.. trust me” she smiled comfortingly “okay fine.. pass the sunscreen” you decided to humour her, holding your hand out for the plastic bottle of spf. As you went to lay down in the tanning bed, a spark hit you, then two, then three. Then…. Crack . It electrocuted you “TAFFY!” “okay I’m really sorry you got electrocuted earlier, I didn’t know it would do that .”, you huffed disappointingly

you ended up getting harrassed that night by a short guy called Doug, he kept trying to hit on you and sexually assault you. He made you incredibly uncomfortable

end of flash back

“Didn’t you say you were killed and brought back by a lightning strike, maybe electricity can add things to you!” You squealed in surprise as you rushed him down the stairs and into the magenta tanning bed. Your hand reached towards the crank, putting it into a certain level and then stepping back to see if it would work. Sparks flew in all sorts of directions, left right and centre. “Please don’t be hurt please don’t be hurt” you begged quietly, then a ding! Like an oven saying it’s finished baking, our little zombie boy was finished baking! As you opened the lid and he slowly, but hilariously sat up like a vampire. You decided to see if he could heat “can you hear me!” You yelled and he groaned “can ya?! Yeah!?! CAN YOU HEAR ME?” you kept yelling and he kept groaning. “OH MY GOD IT WORKED! HOLY SHITTTT” you clapped excitedly.

a/n sorry it’s short it’s one of my first fanfics, I hope you enjoyed and tell me if you want some more!

[thatboreddrake]

Heroism as a Loss of Humanity

Thinking again about how Fate/Stay Night is, at its core, a coming of age story about the sacrifices that the life of a hero inflicts on a person. I mean look at the cast of characters (more below the cut):

Cu Chulainn: a brash warrior who chose to trade a young death for a life of glory.

Heracles: a warrior stripped of his reason, yet he remains attached to his Master as a symbol of the family that he lost to the gods' wrath.

Medea: a sorceress who sacrificed her own family for the sake of love, only to be cast aside in the end.

Medusa: a woman whose humanity was taken from her by no fault of her own.

The biggest example of this imo is Sasaki Kojiro. In the lore of Fate, he's not even a true heroic spirit. The man known as Sasaki Kojiro never truly existed in history. Instead, the Assassin we know by that name is truly nameless, plucked from his own time to assume the name and title of another. Of all the Servants, he lost not only his humanity, but his very identity in becoming a "Heroic Spirit."

This culminates in the dynamic between Artoria, Emiya Shirou, and his future self, Archer.

Artoria chose to take up Caliburn, sacrificing her chance for a normal life for the opportunity to unify Britain and protect it from calamity, only to see her life's work torn apart by her very child, culminating in her death at the Battle of Camlann.

In a similar way, Archer chose to make a pact with Alaya, giving up his humanity and free will to become a tool to be used for the protection of humanity. In the end, however, he found himself broken by the realization that the protection of one group necessitated the destruction of its opposition.

Of all the Servants in Fate/Stay Night, Archer and Artoria were both summoned to the present with the intention of undoing their sacrifice. Having lived the lives of "heroes," their one true wish was to change their decision: to remain human.

Contrast this against Emiya Shirou, a boy who wants nothing more than to become a true hero. For him, the choice to become a hero or remain human, if there ever was one, was made for him when he became the sole survivor of a great calamity. For Shirou, he has no right to live a normal life because he owes too great a debt for those who died instead of him.

And so, when thrust into the events of Fate/Stay Night, Shirou sees his opportunity to finally attain his goal of becoming a hero who can bring salvation for the entire world. Across the three different endings of the visual novel, Shirou makes discoveries and comes to three different conclusions.

In the Fate Route, he remains naive of the sacrifices which heroism requires, inevitably setting him on the path to become the future self that Archer represents.

In the Unlimited Blade Works Route, Shirou comes into direct confrontation with Archer and the pain that will eventually result from following his ideals to the bitter end. However, this does not dissuade Shirou from his path. He looks into the future and sees what he must become, and he chooses to walk that path anyway. This is exemplified in Archer's warning, "Hey, you know that's hell you're walking into." He knows the sacrifices he must make, but he still believes that those sacrifices are necessary.

It is only in Heavens Feel that Shirou comes to doubt his convictions. In each other route, Shirou never has to reconcile the fact that seeking the greater good will often mean personal pain and loss for him. However, when faced with the choice to carry on his convictions and kill the girl he loves, or give up on all else and try to save her, Shirou chooses the latter. It is in this route, and this one alone, that Shirou realizes that he has not been deprived of the right or ability to live life as an ordinary human.

I love Fate as a series, and these same themes carry throughout each of the stories I've consumed. Even Fate/Grand Order questions how much of one's humanity one can sacrifice in the name of the "greater good" before one becomes just another villain to be stopped.

This is what honestly saddens me so much about Fate's position in popular culture. Because there are such rich themes and character development present in its storytelling. But at the end of the day, most people will never look past the framing device. After all, the series began with an erotic visual novel, and the magnum opus of the franchise is a greedy mobile gacha game.

But this franchise is very near and dear to my heart. For the longest time, I've latched onto and identified with Shirou and his desire to help and save those around him. Unfortunately, I can also identify with his desire to ignore/repress his own issues in favor of focusing on helping others. But this is where the messaging of Fate gives hope. For every Shirou, every Archer, every hero who sacrifices their own joy and humanity for a life of pain and suffering in service of others, there's the voice of another, sometimes a character, sometimes the narrative itself, screaming that there's a better way. You have to put on your own oxygen mask before helping someone else with theirs. Other people are just as eager to help you with your issues as you are to help them with theirs. You just have to open yourself up to receive them.

You cannot save the world, no human can. You cannot save everyone, that task is beyond any human. But you *can* save *your* world. You can be a light to those around you. You can be a comforting embrace, a word of encouragement. And in turn, when your world needs saving, when all you need is someone to tell you "it's going to be alright," maybe there will be someone to do the same for you.

The important thing is to keep trying, but don't try to go alone.