#despite the canonical horrors lol
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//i haven't written negan in a long time and haven't written the ship for even longer, but today (technically yesterday now, the 17th) was negan and rick's @mercyprevaild anniversary, so i found myself thinking about them anyway
#i miss them#i like to imagine they and j.udith are getting to be a happy little family#despite the canonical horrors lol#✘ || Excuse the shit out of my goddamn french ( ooc )
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The closet is glass
#gelatinous art#I like to think Durple would give Raddy a chance despite her attitude and eventually becomes close friends with her#And is the first person Raddy comes out to#Or I guess first Sprunki she comes out to lol#I need her to have something good for once in her life PLEASE#Transfeminine Raddy is canon in my heart#You cannot take her away from me#Also she’d survive horror mode because her transgender swagger is too powerful#Sprunki#sprunki fanart#Sprunki Raddy#Sprunki Durple
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sophia seeing cailan's body hanging there when they go back to ostagar, and suddenly all she can see even through the rot and the ruin is just how much he looked like alistair...... :'(
a mental image that totally will not haunt her through alistair's many years on the throne as rebellions and assassination attemps come and go. doesn't send her unhinged and unwise even a little
#I've never played back to ostagar before actually! getting some more delicious trauma for everyone#and also zev was there (affectionate)#oc: sophia amell#warden x alistair#dragon age#dragon age origins#the vibes are slightly weird in the dialogue in this dlc -- this uh. did not seem to be the relationship alistair and cailan had#such as it even was. but hey I got this angst out of it what more can I ask#I had sophia and alistair smooch on the platform place thingy where you meet him for the first time. I am a sap but I am free#what's that post about the unconquerable human spirit that's like 'despite all the horrors I am still horny' again. basically they're that#alistair is honestly The most pocket healed warrior of all time he's got two spirit healers who love him laser focused on him#at all times#(sophia switches between unleashing horrifying amounts of raw magical power on the enemy and going 'oh nooo let me see I'll fix it')#that boy is Protected. wynne and sophia glaring at you past his shoulders like 'he said no FUCKING pickles ok. last warning'#(actually probably sophia would glare at you from like. the height of his armpit; she's Short lol)#also partially why I had to change my canon b/c if alistair was left in the fade sophia would. she would quite simply end the world#long before solas had the time to. she would tear the veil to shreds to get to him. mind and circle mage restraint irretrievably lost#her greatest fear is becoming unmoored (which in many ways also means losing alistair) and everyone else should be afraid of that too#I do like how this playthrough is shaking out tho it feels like a more grown-up version of the story I told with them originally#more complicated and acknowledging the other forces pulling on them (when I was younger I liked the freedom of them both staying wardens)#but it just makes the 'we're sticking together *no matter what*' all the more satisfying and triumphant for me.#we'll find a way and if there is no way we'll fucking make it together :') and they do
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wip thing...
of my bg3 avatar hellebore. i also did some casual nude studies of my 3 characters which i'll put under a cut... rather unlike me after all. (so WARNING for abrupt non-sexual full Artistic nudity lol...,,,,) (< won't be making a habit of this)
they mean the world to me
#bg3 spoilers#?? idk. gith look so..Emaciated. And long. i guess we don't eat on the astral plane :) anyway..well..too much to say.....#it is very very very depressing having to live in the Real World after that final playthrough meant so very much to me.#i normally feel Hope & suchlike after finishing a highly immersive emotional game..but it's too hard this time and it hurtsssss lol yippee#i appreciate bg3 very much for being a place where i could access the concept of nudity & such like in a way that finally felt comfortable.#bodies are inherently non-sexual. they just Are a Fact of Life. this game being NORMAL about nudity from the character creation screen#makes it possible for someone like me to actually have a chance at accessing sensuality in a way that feels comfortable from there.#dont feel like putting it into words further. im ace. just very grateful to this game. even despite the horrors i will never ever forget it#augoh..gugf.. want to go back. my friends & love are in there.....i'm supposed to just move on? in the real world??? THIS place???? UHH????#my characters canonically look like that too!! i see them as intersex and not so much trans. They just look that way.#Diversity win!!! the people who enacted horrors upon you and are trying to kill you again respect your pronouns!!!! <3#I FAILED HONOUR MODE IN THE STUPIDEST WAY POSSIBLE..ACCIDENTALLY TOUCHED AN ITEM. MY LOVER TOUCHED SOME BLOOD-TOUCHED RAG ITEM @ THE CRECHE#AND MY PEOPLE MASSACRED US... YOU BELOVED PRAT. OF COURSE IT WOULD BE YOU AND IN THIS WAY#grateful for love triangle chaos...INTENSE EX DRAMA... IT HAD MAJOR REPURCUSSIONS THIS TIME...ohh so very much happened ohh my dear#truly don't know how to face the Real World now for real. I Don't Know. something has snapped. ive realised twt just makes me feel sad lol#if something in my spare time isn't at least half as fun as bg3....like.. it's not good enough. god we only have one wild and precious life#being Online makes me feel a loneliness so wretched and painful and horrible i really don't think this is the answer.#Why did you even start drawing in the first place? Why did you start this?#For real..the need to work this out and decide what on earth i'm going to do now has presented itself. Why try to get better..why be online#someone who has an imagination that can keep them so happy and fulfilled...has no business also feeling a loneliness as profound as this.#why was someone THIS introverted and withdrawn and anxious also cursed with such a restlessness?#What are you going to DO now? because hellebore and their lover are fine....... So what about you...?#hellebore..😭😭 AUUGHH!! I JUST WANT TO GO TO MY BED IN THE INN...PLAY ON MY VIOLIN THAT'S WHAT I'D DO!!!! i'd drink some ALE DAMNIT!!!!!#i was rereading My Lesbian Experience With Loneliness- the only time i've seen this level of emotional isolation depicted-and was grateful.#but then i read her latest book and now she has a debilitating substance abuse situation and it's upsetting.#I hope she finds what she was looking for. I hope we all make it. kind of wild that i dont do such major self-sabotage at this point myself#I truly think anyone who manages to find dear friends and achieve fulfillment and happiness with others outside themselves are amazing.#I see it happen from my tower. i hope we all make it. I hope we can make it through everything to come.#Why did i say all this on drawings of my characters naked. ah who even cares any more......
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Oh boy.
#it's a creepypasta called wii deleted you written in like 2017 by this guy named IceyPie#but it only began to truly get traction once this guy called The Masked Chris began to make animatics#using readings/voiceactings of the creepypasta as audio#it spawned a whole community and got its peak in around 2021#when the fnf thing was happening and the Chris guy made two fnf mods with his ocs and the bald mii guys#of course since friday night funkin has been touched the creator obviously had to turn out to be a terrible person#(not a groomer i believe but he did a lot of emotional manipulation and severely crunching people who worked for him.#and also this whole drama with the guy who made the songs for the mods)#the creepypasta itself was poorly written with an ''i said'' after literally every line of dialogue#and it had the fnaf thing where they weren't planning to write more of it but they did and the new things just crash with the old ones#but like. the story itself that was trying to be told did improve significantly once Chris was also on the writing board and not just drawi#g. and also when the guy that wrote it literally grew up lol#but still since they couldnt just change what was already established. if your foundation is bad your house will end up bad#but despite its flaws it was somehow able to invoque this huge ''this story could be so good if it was good'' feeling#to. seemingly everyone who saw this.#the fanfiction scene on this thing is insane#everyone is rebooting it adding their own spins and making this thing a thousand times better than what is actually was#it's like mcu fans writing bangers yknow#THEY EVEN TURNED THIS INTO ANALOG HORROR AND OTHER REBOOT ANIMATICS#IT'S LEGIT INSANE. PEOPLE LOVE THIS STORY BUT NOT ITS CANON LMAO#speaking of canon.#the gay shipping is also rampant. and 98% of it is just this one ship#people took the two adult thin attractive white boys that had the most interactions and shipped them together#even though if you want to write anything remotely close to. anything that happens in this fucking creepypasta.#these two should not have fallen in love at any point of the story#it's literally like the onceler situation people liked this guy so bad but there was no one to ship him with#so they pulled the ships outta their asses#and yes it still infuriates me to this day because if you want to write this creepypasta in a remotely good way just. they just cant be#a thing#and this is a hill i will die a thousand times over on
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Now for the 1920s reimagining of Jonathan Crane ! sorry this explanation is even longer lmao
As everyone's been saying, I should do the rest of the Dork Squad to match 1920s Jervis, and so here is my Jonathan! Easily the hardest to draw out of the three-- but I must say! Despite being outside my expertise, I'm a little surprised how much it looks exactly like I was imagining! Even if it took me ages but that's just procrastination lmao.
Anyways! What is his deal? Well, for one, design wise I did go a more drastically different direction from his usual look by doing a literal scareCROW. He's much more bird like, with a plague doctor mask being common imagery in steampunk, but he's still very southern themed with his messy broken overall strap and patchwork coat. Even his wings are rustic. ( he can't fly just glide btw lol ) Also! I leaned hard into the color orange instead of his usual green gas because it..... bugs me that both Crane and Nygma have a bright green in their color palette. I just want them to have distinct colors if they're going to be a trio. And look how vintage halloweeny he looks !!
So why is he so well dressed out of costume? Well! This Jonathan Crane is not a psychologist at all, here he is the very successful grandfather of horror movies in the silent film era. ( An illustrious origin, i hope canon Crane would be proud lmao ). This is referenced in how his face looks, he's wearing white powder and black makeup that's usually meant to emphasize key features on blurry film like his upper lip and around his eyes. And yes, he just keeps his makeup on during most events, and people just accept he's a little on the... eccentric side.
To me, the archetype of the mad artist fits Jonathan's vibe perfectly. When it comes to striking fear, he's a perfectionist, a trait that drove him to learn every single skill necessary himself, from costume design to props to making his own cameras to mechanical engineering, to.... a "fear gas" that was supposed to gently encourage immersion in the audience but ended up becoming a dangerous chemical weapon.
For his origin crime I am thinking !! Full blown Scooby Doo style monster mystery!! With some nuance! Crane, as a first impression, gives off an immediate air of pompous, aggressively impatient, pretentious director type. His presence is big and dramatic, but its distinctly not southern-- in fact, he seems to play up something between a hollywood accent and a thespian one. But this is all to cover for his farm hick background that he was once very ashamed of.
As a child of a failing farmhand during an infamously dry and dusty era, Jonathan developed an extreme resentment for his country existence from both the bullying of other children for all his strange quirks and the severe verbal and physical abuse of his father, driven to alcoholism by the stress of poverty and the loss of his wife. Originally offering his artistic ideas as a means to help them, he grows sick of their closed mindedness and berating and runs away to learn about the emerging potential of film in Gotham City.
Its been many years, Jonathan now in his early 30s, he finds himself surrounded by the shallow, champagne aristocrats that reflect his childhood bullies. Feeling wrong in his own skin, he develops a sightly unhealthy obsession with the escapism he finds in performing as the monsters in his movies.
But upon discovering that the corrupt rich of Gotham plan to push legislation that would negatively effect farmers like his own history, and that they expected him to be amongst those who support it, his irritation with the shallowness of society reaches its limits. In day, he would feign support for their behavior to cover his tracks, but at night he would don the mask of the Scarecrow, rumored to be the vengeful spirit of a farmer who was hanged, and who he believes to be a more freeing expression of himself than his true face, targeting not just the rich but striking fear in their laborers to scare them off land. And it works. So, he tries bending the will of society more.
Is he doing this out of any moral conviction or just spite and a love for the role? It's... hard to say.
As the Scarecrow, his methods are so effective he's near uncatchable, even by Batman. Its only by solving the mystery of who is under the mask are they able to catch him. They surprise him during one of his screenings, jump him in the dark, and prove his subtle use of fear gas in the theater to the police once he's cornered. Instead of being angry, he goes to the mad house applauding Batman's performance.
What an interesting character they play. He's very inspired.
#( anyways uh I hope you like what i came up with ! lol )#batman scarecrow#batman villains#1920s gotham#1920s#1920s Scarecrow#vintage#fanart#dc comics#Jonathan Crane#scarecrow
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have this epic fail scu tommy design. My take was trying to gave him the same aura as Knive from trigun have. Sort of like a white dove covered in blood type of vibe. But i htink he's too tommy for that.
If I can write my own Scu!Tommy, I would definitely make him an eldritch abomination and more body horror i guess(partly him doing it on other people) and he would be more uhhh terrifying then canon.. cuz canon he's a soappy wet cat lol. Also his backstory would be very different i guess...
His backstory would be the mad scientist(condi) doing illegal shit, he's batshit insane and on some shit and experiment on tom. Errr his motivation is that he want to create fucking uhh super-human, genetically engineered super-human. So he created Tom aka the patient zero. He's a test tube baby and uhh it goes wrong bla bla bla apocalypse happen. If its still the same as the scu video sorry i forgot half of it and i make up whatever happened in my brain lol.
why does the mad scientist do this? Because he's crazyyyyyyy and sillyyyy. No, he just have some sort of savior complex
scu!tommy were a child who's prone to be sickly, mostly because of his diet that consist of normal human food, while he himself does not have normal diet like most people does. He eats human.
the mad scientist doesn't know this because who the fuck would have that in mind. For now, the scientist tries to fulfill his nutritional deficiency through bags and needles(idk how it works im not a doctor) and feeding him normal human food, despite Tommy protest on how he cannot stomach it and make his stomach upset.
Also forgot to mention he still does experiment on him, but its still tame. standard stuff like, his intelligent, capabilities and substance that might be his weakness. Suffice to say, the result satisfied the scientist.
anyway im bored typing stuff i might continue my backstroy rewrite ramble and how i write 100 days scu in other post.
#my art#tw needle#100 day#scu!tommy#tw cannibalism#tw blood#slimecicle cinematic universe#patient zero#c!tommy
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He's-a Gone
Luigi time! To suffer, that is.
(CW: character death)
This is obviously a sort of comlementary piece to I Was-a Too Late. But it's more than just that as it also illustrates a certain fun, dark what-if idea I had. Please keep reading if you're intrigued!
Lore:
Luigi's Mansion, the first game. Everything goes the same as in canon until the final boss fight, when Luigi defeats King Boo in his Bowser costume. After King Boo comes out and Luigi intends to suck him in, the villain laughs and reveals the truth: Mario's painting was an illusion, so was everything Madame Clairvoya saw. All just to mess with Luigi. Meanwhile the real Mario wasn't just captured by the Boos, he was immediately killed by them on their King's orders. The only physical thing that's left of him in this realm is the five items Luigi found - hidden by the Boos for Luigi to find, another part of King Boo's sick game.
Luigi is able to finish the fight despite his shock and grief, fueled by the anger King Boo never expected from him. After getting out of the painting the plumber discovers that it is indeed empty, no Mario or anyone else in the portrait.
Heartbroken and guit-ridden, Luigi goes back to Professor E. Gadd's lab and gives him back the Poltergust 3000. He doesn't even want to stay long enough to see what is going to happen to the ghosts. Of course the Professor tries to offer some semblance of comfort, but we all know it's not his forte.
So Luigi leaves, only taking Mario's five items with him. He notices that the mansion has disapeared without a trace. The reality of it all finally hits him, and he practically collapses onto a nearby tree's large root protruding from the ground, putting down the precious items around himself, only leaving the matching red hat and the letter in his hands. He should have known something was off. After all, the Mario he saw in the painting was wearing his hat and both gloves.
Looking at all these items, to his growing horror he can't help but imagine what exactly might have happened to his brother and what his last moments might have been like. He hugs the hat to his chest and rereads Mario's note several times, knowing that the brief warning was his brother's last words to him.
Luigi can do nothing but cry for the beloved brother he couldn't save, desperately wishing it was his warm, living and breathing body pressed to his chest rather than just a couple of his belongings.
But Mario is truly gone, apparently having met such a horrific fate that not even a single part of his body is left in the physical world.
[Good night]
…I'll leave the rest up to your imagination ;) Sorry if I got carried away with my description. Occasionally even I enjoy being a little dramatic, though I'm no writer whatsoever.
Yeah, I'm not apologizing for making this one - I was nicer to Luigi than to his bro, at least here the Mushroom Kingdom and everyone in it (except for Mario lol) is still okay!
But alas,
You can no longer play as Mario (warning: this is a video with sound)
Rest in spaghetti, funny wahoo man.
@federthenotsogreat I'm tagging you because you said you wanted more Mario art like I Was-a Too Late, thought you might like this one too!
@drones-of-innocence Also tagging you because you were interested in my idea.
Edit: Tagging a few more mutuals who might want to see this based on their reaction to my previous angsty work just in case, feel free to ignore. Or ask me to remove the tag if you want, no problem.
@silenzahra (remember, no rush) @c-lavanda @jell-o101 @stripetkattelalala54-gf
@luigixfanxayjay @itsavee4117
And you @giddlygoat just because you have a Luigi's Mansion AU and I thought you might appreciate this... Also because I'm a fan 👉👈
#please kindly ignore the fact that if the boos are not there anymore the blue fire shouldn't either#i needed it for the extra light source and the atmosphere okay?#let's just pretend it's going to die out right after this pic#the gate is still there because it looks exactly the same when the new mansion is built for luigi#so i assume it just never vanished in the game#maybe it had already been there and the boos were like “oh this looks like a perfect place to put our fake mansion”#anyway#one thing i like about these two angsty pieces is that i mostly used reds in mario's and mostly greens in luigi's#my art#fanart#luigi#mario#luigi's mansion#does this count as an au?#if it does then i guess#luigi's mansion au#more like an alternate ending#luigi's mansion bad ending#poor luigi#cw character death#angst#tragedy#mamma mia#i feel dirty#again#but not as much#forgive me?
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VAMPIRE SEVENTEEN
this post contains: vampirism, canon vampire lore depending on who you ask. mentions of blood, bloodsucking ofc. and mentions of sex [grinding, strength kink, orgasms] darker themes for wonwoo’s [hypnosis + kidnapping, sorry]
💌 sorry, this was rotting in my drafts. each entry has a different vibe. enjoy <3 this was requested btw
the man, the myth, the legend; SEUNGCHEOL is one of the greatest vampires out there (up there with dracula and nosferatu). he’s thought to be a myth, a story passed down generation by generation of an evil vampire that lurks in the night, you know, the usual. but every so often there’s proof, small hints that seungcheol is actually out there, lurking amongst the living. he rarely shows his face, only to seduce—plucking off one, maybe two, or groups of people for his dinner. seungcheol lusts for blood over anything. [he is indeed very dominant and very sexy—if you ask him to bite you, he absolutely will but he's more than likely to turn you.] kinda gives dracula 2020 vibe if you’ve seen it; he’s adjusting to the new world.
JEONGHAN is a rather "stereotypical" vampire. gorgeous, elegant, got turned when his hair was bleached, thus he's blond, bloodthirsty, and somehow even sexier. he's not one to lie about being a vampire, nor is jeonghan ashamed of it (he has no regrets); he'll flash his fangs or drink from someone in public, he doesn't give a fuck. and of course, what a slut he is. he loves to drink the blood of the person he's fucking, right as they're creaming for him. has allegedly had the most threesomes out of the thirteen. patrick bates type, flexing in the mirror as he's fucking; mind u, he can't see himself. has had a hand in the creation of a few vampires (direct result of him being slutty)
in his current lifetime, JOSHUA has decided to lay low. he's had several lifetimes of partying, drinking freely and the usual drama in the vampire community (centuries of arguing over the same shit). right now, he feels a bit lost, like something is missing. but he’s gained way too many hobbies to keep track of and he’s even started that wine company he’s dreamed of (mind you that was 100 years ago). he’s yearning, aching, lonely. envisioning him to be the type to be constantly searching for a soul that's like his long lost lover…signs up for hinge (bad idea); all of his matches want him to drink their blood once they find out that he’s a vampire, he’s not really into those that are eager for it.
ok im thinking vampire prince JUNHUI. you meet eyes with him in passing on a busy day. since then, he's appeared in all your dreams (most of them being of the romantic/erotic variety besides the small, sudden glimpses of blood and horrors, physically feeling a piercing sensation in your neck despite being asleep), he's shown up across the street of your work only to disappear in a blink, you've seen him in crowded places, just staring at you—strange, soft music playing in your head whenever he appears, seemingly caught up in his mystery. he doesn't appear for you until he's sure you need him; typically when something fairly traumatic happens. he sweeps you away in a time of uncertainty, offering to be your protector and to show you 'a new world'.
vampire boyfie SOONYOUNG. in classic vampire suitor fashion; he wines you, dines you, and if you want sixtynine (and other pleasures) are definitely on the table as well. i just imagine him to be extremely sweet and well meaning; which leads me to believe, he doesn’t tell you that he’s a vampire until like date five (he already assumes ur his partner by then). has a dilemma of ‘will they really love me if they knew about my affliction’. so he tells you, voice shaking. and you’re just like ??? hoshi? a vampire? LOL…. then he shows you his fangs—you watch how they protrude from his gums in real time; it’s quick, if you blinked you would have missed it. realizes that might’ve been a little off-putting and gets embarrassed. it’s okay tho, bc it makes him hotter :p
WONWOO, your incredibly hot history professor. you catch him on a dark street near campus one night, teeth buried into the neck of one of his students; veins popping out of his skin, face red in hunger as he feeds and feeds. once he spots you, he drops his prey—eyes filled with a look that’s a cross between fury and disappointment as he stomps over to you. it’s unnecessary to run, he’s already caught you before you’ve even turned your back. he whispers in your ear, tone enchanting like a lullaby. when you wake up, you find that your dark surrounding is actually a small, velvety box that contains you; stripped of your clothing in exchange for old satin material.
another vampire of the elegant variety JIHOON knows exactly how he wants to live the rest of his life, and he's not exactly looking for anything 'new'. he sticks to his bubble, his same set of friends and he only gets out every so often; preferring to bury himself within his own darkness and stench (a singular coffin in a singular room with no windows) only to come out for feasting purposes. i think that the one thing that does keep him tied to the earthly world is music; and often, he has published his own throughout the years under various names and genres. to jihoon, the best part of living (or lack their of) is the music; in addition to experiencing as much history as he has.
vampire boyfriend SEOKMIN longs for your blood. he craves to bite you. literally just say the word and he'll bite you. but only if you want. did i mention that he wants to bite you? has to look away from you when you're talking because he gets distracted by the pulsing vein in your neck; it speaks to him, whispering the breezing sound of blood rushing. he has to either look away from you or lock eyes intently with you; which ends up just looking like he's begging for pussy. and truth is, it absolutely does get him hard just thinking about drinking your sweet crimson nectar….oh the things he’d do..
ok so MINGYU has an advantage bc not only is he a vampire but he's built! like yeah, his physique won't change now that he's a vampire, and yeah, he now has vampire strength—he still goes to the gym. kind of just out of routine, but he says it still gives him a euphoric feeling. that being said, loves to pick you up and throw you around. strength play. you remember the type of sex bella and edward had in breaking dawn? that’s a regular for mingyu. almost regularly having to by new bed frames because when mingyu fucks, he really fucks. don’t worry though, he’s not always rough!
i am inclined to believe that MINGHAO is throwing blade-style, sexy bloodbath vampire parties as a sort of side gig or he's just been swayed into the club scene this lifetime. he's the guy you keep seeing at the club for weeks on end, and when you lock eyes with him, you hear a whispering in your ear. and all of a sudden, you want to approach him but he's gone before you can. one night he's the one to approach you. thus queuing a heavy, steamy make out in the club followed by some grinding. next thing you know, you're at his place and he's showing you all that life can truly be, all of the pleasures and curiosities. he shows you his fangs, as well, doesn't care if you're scared or not (he likes the fear, though). he does ask to bite you; and if you say yes, he indeed marks you up.
VERNON got bit rather recently (couple hundred years). in his human life he was very curious about the concept of life as well as life after death, immortality, and subsequently, vampirism. he drove himself into become a madman until his studies led him to becoming his own study subject. he projects that, if he's lucky, in the next hundred years he'll be able to build a vampirism research facility. despite being a vampire, there are still some things that he doesn't know. and for some reason, even after becoming a vampire, his research is always with humans in mind. he wants to help humanity improve, evolve, possibly to something greater.
SEUNGKWAN found a way to get rich off of being a vampire. he's a celebrity; a multimillion dollar 3-book deal (the first being an autobiography, he's thinking of making a vampire 48 laws of power next) and a late, late, late night talk show. occasionally joins the news to talk about the latest in vampire society (he's a spokesperson of sorts, often campaigning for vampire rights and such) and politics. inclined to believe he was a vampire therapist at one point. he’s more than just a pretty face and excellent conversationalist, though, he's had to overcome a lot of trials and tribulations in his many lifetimes (the perseverance of a vampire now available at your local bookstore)
vampire lee CHAN is dangerous!!! he's snatching hearts and breaking them (and slurping the blood out of them). the type of vampire that just needs some black sunglasses and he's fully able to walk in the daylight (no, he doesn't sparkle, but he wishes he could). doesn't have many enemies unless you count some of his exes then well.... he's not into turning anybody because although he loves being a vampire, those first few thousand years were filled with so much agony—watching your loved ones pass on, witnessing horrors beyond your imagine and knowing that there is nothing you could possibly do about it despite your gift of immortality. he'd rather just drain people of their blood and leave it at that (genuinely thinks its foolish to want to be a vampire, and will be offended if asked to turn someone). seriously, don't ask him to turn you.
#☁️ — daydream.svt#seventeen headcanons#seventeen smut#vampire seventeen#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#svt headcanons
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Imperial
[Paul Atreides x F!Reader] 1113 Words
Paul Atreides, Duke of Arakkis, takes the hand of the Emperor's eldest daughter for the throne, yet neither are pleased. They know they must learn to be civil, but what will it cost them...
Tags: post-Dune 2, strays from book canon, no use of yin, dune typical everything, Corinno!Reader, slow burn, enemies to lovers kind of? ARRAIGNED MARRIAGE TROPE EXCEPT BOTH PARTIES ARE PISSY ABOUT IT, not proofread LOL.
Warnings: Dune typical themes, motifs, and actions
Previous Chapter Next chapter (coming soon…)
Dune Masterlist
Nine———
Everyone in their right mind knows not to stop a charging bride so the guards didn’t even lift a finger as you marched towards the lush estate gardens.
Caladan has become less daunting the more time you spend there, you only wish it will be the same for the landscape of desert you have been sentenced too. Your thoughts consume you, racing past behind you eyes and gone before you were to process them, as your feet patter off path to a small clearing by the cliff side.
Your eyes gazed over the crashing waves against the resistance of the cliff side and fate came to mind; when does it not. You never really believed in it but you have come to the realization that with enough time and planning, anything could be orchestrated.
Your fate in particular seemed to have been thousands of years in the making, and while you have tried to fight against it similar to the angry waves beating the stone—-the tide will always succumb to the earth.
The salty air entered your nostrils with a swift inhale as you attempted to soothe your aching heart. The emotion was somewhere between grief and anger for both your father and your stolen fate.
You lifted your left hand and examined your ring before adjusting it slightly, there was no method to your movements, you just needed something physical to bring you out of your head.
And that is exactly what happened when you felt a hand brush your shoulder. You instantly whipped around to see who had caught you, but all you saw was Paul.
“We have a reception to attend, you know” His tone was rather playful, despite the fact you charged away before any words could be exchanged.
You tired back to the water before speaking, Paul following shortly to your side. The friendliness between the two of you was comfortable, You both kept each other within an arm's reach both physically and emotionally. A fine line seen all too often in these marriages.
“I’m Empress, aren’t I to do what I please?” You quip.
“If only it were that easy”
“If only”
A comforting silence fell between the two of you as you soaked in the view. Who knew the last time you would see such vast oceans. Maybe Paul did. You had no idea of knowing.
His gifts were quite alarming at first but a clear symptom of his spice agony. Drinking the water of life is a pain you have only had the horror of hearing about from your fathers truthsayer. It was a brutal ritual not even the Sardukar could endure.
The lives of so many others entering your mind, the multitudes of paths, the multitudes of potential. All while retaining your current wants and desires. The bile had heightened almost every part of him, his intelligence, his fears, and the crushing sensation of a will not of your own.
“Tell me about Arakkis?” You asked him
“It’s baren, and the heat follows you everywhere and—“
“Not a Definition, Paul. About your time there. I’d like to know what I’m getting into.”
You were terrified to be thrown into his world. Adjusting to a foreign culture is always strenuous but being implanted in one where your betrothed is their messiah? It was hard to tell if the people would accept you or reject your legitimacy as a bride to their mahdi.
His lips straightened into a tight line as he pondered where to start but like most things in the imperium, it was nipped in the bud before it would foster. You heard Delia’s stride approaching from behind.
“While I love to see the new Emperor and Empress basking in one another’s company, there are quite a few important people who are expecting the both of you very soon.” Her hands were clasped down at her waist as she attentively waited. You nod your head and let out a small hum before turning away from the view.
“I have another quick change, hm?” You question, Delia Humors your small remark and lets out a small laugh before nodding her head.
“I’ll see you there, husband.” The word felt like a dagger shooting through Paul. As you stepped away with Delia, Paul continued to ponder on what his life has succumbed to.
He had just married a woman he barely knew, all the while leaving the woman who brought him to be the person he is now behind in the dust. He hadn’t told you about Chani, yet somehow there was an unspoken agreement between you two that some things were to be left unsaid. This was a political marriage after all.
Chani despised him, he had risen above her after swearing he would be equal to her. Now he is her emperor, her new suppressor. Paul couldn’t help but wonder if the path he was blindly leading you down would leave you hating him as well. Maybe that’s how it was fated to be.
———
Delia had you re-pampered in all your imperial glory as you were thrown into a room of hungry politically driven wolves with Paul at your side.
After lists of warm wishes and congratulations, many of said wolves dove in for the kill. Presenting the two of you with ideas, requests, and comments on their states. Everyone was there, from planetary governors to heads of houses, all for the same greedy purpose; power.
Connections mean everything in this court, you are unlikely to get far without them. This is what you were taught from a very young age, both false and true connections. Double sided “friendship” and backhanded comments on current policies were all the rage as you and Paul were forced to parade yourselves around the large room.
Once you and Paul were able to seclude yourselves in a far corner you decided it was time for politics.
“We need a new truth-sayer, I cannot bear the thought of Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam attempting to further stir my fathers corruption into our future.” You turned to face him, “she is all but fond of you”
Paul let out a short chuckle, “That I am very aware of. The Bene Gesserit are not my biggest supporters.”
You let out a small hum in response, “Your mother?”
Paul shook his head, “She is the Fremen’s, we mustn’t take her from them. Not after they have just gained their Dune back” With a nod of your head and the clasping of your hands, you direct your attention to the rest of the room. Trying to predict who wants to make a proposition next. Trying to predict where your future would take you.
———
Next chapter (coming soon...)
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knee deep in the couch seat and you're not eating me out | Logan Howlett/Wade Wilson, 1.8k, T
@poolvertober: Day 4 – Casual
Summary: Is it casual now? TW: Brief mentions of canon-typical body horror/violence and Logan's alcoholism but nothing descriptive. Rated because butts and Wade's vocabulary are involved lol. Read on Ao3
A/N: Title is a bastardization of Chappell Roan's Casual, because I obviously had to for today's prompt. (I am so sorry Ms. Roan /o\) Un-beta'd and I deeply apologize—I just wanted to get this posted before I chickened out again 😅🙏 Inspired by this fanart because I could not get it out of my head lmao.
❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛
Logan has only been living with Wade, Althea, and Dogpool for a few months but there’s a few things he picks up on.
One: Never question what Althea does. Ever.
Two: Mary Puppins is a living vacuum and will put anything in her mouth given the chance.
Three: Wade can have really, really bad days.
If Logan sees Wade with the Deadpool mask on the moment he wakes up, he knows he’s in for at least five hours of the bitchiest man he’s ever had the displeasure of meeting. He doesn’t blame Wade in the slightest for having bad days (the fuck kind of hypocrite would that make him?) but it doesn’t mean he’s just gonna take it if Wade is being particularly annoying.
“Bub,” he says carefully, warningly, his voice low and gruff, “the only reason why I’m not skewering your skull is because I just finished mopping the floor. Get your fucking face off’a me.”
Wade’s got his face buried in his chest, nose tucked firmly in between the crevice of Logan’s pecs, his hands petting the skin there. He, predictably, shakes his head no.
Logan had spent the day cleaning the apartment, tossing away old garbage bags and tidying the random piles of stuff littered everywhere. Wade avoided him—as he usually did on bad days—leaving a room once Logan entered so neither of them would bother the other. Logan didn’t think twice about stripping off his shirt once he finished mopping the living room, already sweaty from half a day’s work.
Of course, that’s when Wade decides to pop out of Al’s bedroom where he and Mary were hiding, immediately faceplanting into Logan’s chest as Logan’s dragging out the vacuum.
“Mmmno,” Wade hums, the sounds turning into one word. “Gotta recharge my battery. Your lovely mountains help with that.”
Logan growls, unsheathing his claws on his right hand. “Wade, I’m fucking serious.”
“Peanut, I’m fucking serious,” the moron parrots back, but there’s an edge to his voice that Logan recognizes is Wade being serious for once. Wade snuggles further into his chest, hands now kneading the flesh there, calloused fingertips occasionally brushing Logan’s nipples. “Just let me have this,” Wade sighs.
(Logan pointedly ignores the urge to preen at Wade’s easy affection and praise.)
He closes his eyes, slowly breathes through his nose, and counts to ten to stop himself from stabbing Wade through the temple.
Just because he can stab the dipshit doesn’t mean he should, he reasons. He just finished cleaning the floors and Althea would appreciate less blood stains on them, he reminds himself.
He rolls his eyes when Wade hums into his skin, mumbling nonsense that Logan doesn’t bother trying to parse out. Though he’s annoyed (very annoyed), Logan’s surprised that he doesn’t mind the contact as much as he thought he would. God knows when was the last time he had this kind of skinship with someone, how long it’s been since someone touched him without wanting to pick a fight.
Fuck. Logan must be getting soft from living here.
With a final hum and deep breath, Wade lifts his face from Logan’s chest to meet Logan’s eyes, chin now digging into Logan’s sternum. Despite the mask, Logan can tell that he’s smiling beneath the fabric.
“Thanks for the assist, honey badger!” Wade chirps. “I feel much better now.”
He grunts, rolling his eyes again. “Whatever. Now get the fuck off me.”
Wade pouts but relents, pulling away from Logan without a word.
Shit, Logan already misses his touch, what the fuck.
He doesn’t let it show on his face, jerking his head in a direction that’s vaguely out of the way of the vacuum’s direct path.
“Can I get back to vacuuming now, princess?” he taunts, but even he can hear that he doesn’t mean the insult.
“Excuse you!” Wade gasps dramatically, a hand lifting to clutch his chest. “The only princess here is my little Princess Puppins!”
At the sound of her name, the dog dutifully comes skittering into the living room with a bark. Logan sighs at the hair she’s already leaving everywhere.
(For a dog with almost no fur left, the little she does have scatters around the apartment, unending and always in places Logan thought he already cleaned.)
Wade picks up Mary and partially lifts his mask to immediately cover her face in kisses, cooing nonsense and praise. With the bottom half of his face exposed, she licks into his mouth (fuckin’ gross, but whatever), and Wade looks visibly more at ease than he did not even ten minutes ago.
Logan tugs the cable of the vacuum to move it out of the way, only turning it on once Wade and Mary are back inside the bedroom.
And if he turns his back to hide the smile tugging at the corner of his lips, well, that’s no one’s business but his own.
❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛
The mission went sideways faster than Wade could make an innuendo about it. There were casualties that didn’t need to happen, body parts Deadpool didn’t need to lose, places where Wolverine’s claws didn’t need to go. The official X-men (that is, the losers that lived at the X-Mansion) handled the PR shitstorm headed their direction while Wade whisked Logan and himself away from the pesky news cameras already on their heels.
The two of them came home to an empty apartment, and once Wade was dumped into the pull-out couch he and Logan shared, Logan took off. Wade probably shouldn’t have let him leave—knew all too well the kind of spiral one could fall into after a shitty mission like that—but he also knew better than to push Logan before the man was ready.
Besides, he had six fingers, half a leg, and a nose he needed to grow back.
Logan, the asshole, only shucked off his own uniform once they arrived home and didn’t help Wade change before he left, so Wade hobbles around like a ballerina unwilling to dance on two legs as he strips his suit. He manages to finally get an old shirt and a pair of black short-shorts on before he falls over, ass hitting the floor with a fuck! Blind Al arrives home when he does, Mary Puppins in tow after finishing her nighttime potty. Al’s only acknowledgement of Wade is her cursing out him and Logan for leaving her to tend to the damn dog she didn’t even ask for, but the lack of heat in her words tells Wade the truth.
“Love you too, Al!” he calls out.
“Go fuck yourself, you uncircumcised dickhead!” she barks back as she shuffles towards her room. “And don’t forget to have someone look after the dog next time!” She slams the door behind her.
Wade manages to get up and grab a spare mask that doesn’t have a hole around the nose, slipping it on as he tumbles back onto the pull-out. Even though Blind Al is blind and can’t bask in the glory that is a nose-less Wade Wilson, he still doesn’t want to see his own ugly mug in random reflections around the apartment. Mary tucks into her doggy bed at the corner of the room and falls asleep while Wade lies on his stomach and spends time on his phone, scrolling aimlessly through different apps as his body regenerates.
The fact that glueing himself to his phone means he can pick up the second Logan calls him is just a bonus.
But he doesn’t even have to worry about that because Wade’s only grown back four of his fingers and part of his shin when Logan surprisingly returns home. He is also surprisingly not as shitfaced as Wade thought he’d be. He’s still definitely drunk if the way he’s grumbling to himself and shuffling around is anything to go by, but he doesn’t smell like he went through an entire bar’s supply of liquor, and he doesn’t look near as bad as when Wade first brought him to the TVA.
“Welcome back, peanut!” he greets, and Logan only grunts in response. As Logan begins to change into his clothes for bed, he says, “I gotta say, I’m impre—”
But before Wade can finish his sentence, a now t-shirt and boxers-clad Logan faceplants into his ass.
Twisting to watch with wide, bewildered eyes, Wade goes still as stone as Logan’s hands cup his ass cheeks. He’s pretty sure Logan doesn’t need his heightened senses to hear Wade’s heart with the way it’s trying to beat out of his chest.
He’s drunk he’s drunk he’s drunk and his face is in my ass, what the flying fucking fuck is happening?! is all Wade can think.
Before he gets the chance to say anything, Logan grumbles, “Can ya fuckin’ relax, bub?” His words slur together like he can barely make his tongue move. “Yer fuckin’ stiff as a board ‘ere and I’m tryna use ya as a pillow right now.”
Wade forces himself to calm down—drunk or not, he doesn’t want to be known as a horrible pillow.
“Peanut,” he says carefully, “as ecstatic as I am that our relationship has suddenly escalated to rimming, why is your face buried in my ass while I have clothes on?”
It takes a moment for Logan to answer, but eventually he murmurs, “M’rechargin’ my fuckin’ battery, bub.”
Oh, fuck him, Wade thinks, his traitor of a heart fluttering at this hot mess of a man. How dare he throw Wade’s own words back at him like this? That is ridiculously unfair.
Wade’s still stewing when Logan lifts his head to glare at him. “Ya got a problem?” he asks with a frown, the clearest he’s sounded since coming home.
Wade immediately shakes his head. He may be ticked that karma’s working herself beautifully right now, but he’s not about to waste the opportunity of having The Wolverine using his ass like a pillow.
“Absolutely not!” he reassures Logan with a grin, desperately hoping he doesn’t sound like he’s about to flip his shit. “But I was hoping we’d be naked when we finally hit third base.”
He has to joke about it, he has to. Or else his own stupid feelings will choke him to a death that would be more merciful than whatever the hell this is.
“Nah,” Logans says around a yawn, head falling back down to Wade’s ass. “Just want’cha like this.” Wade tries and fails to steady his rapidly beating heart when Logan moves to wrap his arms around his waist.
At the silence that follows, he thinks Logan passes out on him, but just as he turns around to focus on his phone again, Wade hears him.
“Just...” Logan whispers, voice unguarded and overwhelmingly soft, “just wanna hold ya fer'once...”
Wade swallows the lump in his throat. He doesn’t have the freaky super-hearing Logan possesses but he’s pretty sure he hears that.
He’s drunk, he’s drunk, he’s drunk, he reminds himself, it doesn’t mean anything.
He turns back to his phone, hoping that Logan is actually asleep, which means he can’t see the blush covering Wade’s entire face.
#poolvertober#deadpool and wolverine#deadpool & wolverine#dp&w#deadpool#wolverine#poolverine#peanutbub#deadclaws#wolverpool#wade wilson#wade winston wilson#logan howlett#james logan howlett#jercy attempts words#fanfic#.shhh pretend i posted this before midnight on oct 4 shhhhhhh
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Dark Fivela hints are canon
Recently their was a slight leak over a dark scene where five dreams of Lila losing her mind. Looks like something straight from a horror film. Rather disturbing but adds new insight into their relationship. Being stuck in their limbo of being a hell on one side but heaven in terms of freedom and having their own world to grow closer in. The original poster said their were darker takes. Could see them putting emphasis on their shared madness. Skeletons from their closet haunting them (Mostly due to malnutrition and repeating the same actions of survival. That pushed their minds to the edge) Five has been paranoid and incredibly suspicious in the past. This dream most likely terrified him over his darker fears manifesting. Relying on Lila, being vulnerable, protecting her and making her his purpose to get her back home. What happens if he couldn't protect her mind from being broken? His did and that's originally how he created Dolores. Over the years he would attack, shoot first in his original apocalypse. Which was odd since nobody but him existed there. Not like in the case of the subway stops, where they never knew what they would be getting. Think his first inclination towards violence was a testament to the madness of being alone with no true escape. The extended cut of the leaked footage could have been Lila trying to choke him or seeing him as an enemy. Forgetting the present in favor of the past. Or Five being forced to kill her in defense. Being met with that reality would push him to insanity most likely. He has grown close to her by this point. They were family and friends with hints to the growing tension between them. Five burying his own feelings before the subway. Knowing how he tried to kill her in season 2, only for it to catch up to them again despite the years and time spent growing closer. In gamer speak this would have been an alternate 'bad end' 'for them. Killing each other or one being left surviving from the attack. Could also be an insight into Five's own darkness he is struggling to keep at bay. He succumbed to it the first time around in his timeline and with lila, felt it wouldn't happen again. Yet they had become each others rock. If one cracks then they both do. She is wearing the same outfit, has the same length of hair and similar lighting was used in the quick scene from the montage below. It's my theory that he woke up from that nightmare. Obviously troubled. Think lila comforted him or made one of her more blunt jokes, laughing loudly. That infectious laughter made five smile and do the same. Showing that she is still herself and able to be content with his company. Not to say she doesn't miss her old life but it's not seen as a third ring of hell given their was affection between them before all this had happened. I would say this takes place in year three. Their madness and break downs.
In the end, think the dark edge brought them closer. Both fighting back and embracing their darkness. Seeing each other at their worse. Possibly around that same time they helped each other more. Five removing the glass from her foot. Her in turn, doing the intimate task of shaving him and no doubt cutting his hair. The love and trust growing with those actions given the more than likely, brief breakdowns that occurred and the fear of madness tearing them down. Their relationship looks to be quite strong even before it became official. Lol or I might be overthinking by being so excited over something new from the subway storyline xD Perfect timing for Halloween~! Apparently Lila and Five can be the face of Spooktober coming up lol
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now i wake up by your side—
bakugou x f!reader
wc: 2.8k+
tags: u.a. college au, canon-compliant, reader has a telekinesis/telepathic quirk, references (and potential spoilers) for the current arc in the manga, angst, a lot of secret hidden feelies
tysm to @alrightberries for giving me the opportunity to bring this lil thought of yours to life 🥺 your patience and understanding during the time it took me to write this is so appreciated it, and tbh you're the reason i'm even still here right now LOL you're so sweet, and i hold your kindness so close to my heart. i wish i could convey how much it means to me. i hope i did this even a lil justice !! happy birthday dear !!!! 🥺🩷✨️
Sero dreams of watching the sunrise on top of the Roppongi Observatory.
It’s a beautiful sight, one you’ve never seen with your own eyes, but you soak in the warmth flushing across his cheeks and the anticipated break of morning through the clouds. When he takes in a hefty breath, you feel the spring chill sting inside his chest, crisp and clear, like it’s you breathing instead of him, and it’s almost comforting enough to lull you to sleep, too.
But a clay pot shattering against a nearby bench has your eyes springing open, ripped from the haven you’d been lost to.
You have to blink several times in order to fight through the exhaustion wearing you thin, but the evening returns to you in small, bleary doses. It’s the middle of the night—or at least it was when you’d first wandered out to the training field, and you can’t be sure how many hours have passed since then. Across the yard, you’ve successfully managed to carry four pots from the garden plot near the entrance all the way to your feet with your Quirk— but number five sits in pieces in the grass.
You’ll have to clean that up by morning or Eraser will make you run laps until you puke. Again.
Kirishima flits through your mind in a suit and tie: not as a Hero, but a spy of some kind, chasing down men with masks covering their faces and wielding a gun that looks odd in his hands, even in his own dream. Despite being back in the dorms, stories up and near the end of the hall, you can see it—hear him yelling out at the criminal to stop, feel the thud of the ground under his feet. His own determination blares through you like a freight train, as strong and damning as he is, and you fight to force yourself back inside your own shoes as you try to carry another pot.
Recovery Girl used to tell you that you did this to yourself: all your worry about losing sleep psyching yourself out of it completely, chasing it away before it even had the chance. When everyone is getting ready for bed, heading out of the common room and hitting the showers, you can feel that suspense building; what will come across tonight while everyone dreams? Fantasies? Or nightmares?
During the day it’s easier to drown out the foot-traffic of everyone’s thoughts—you do it without trying, now—but your brain needs rest, too. Letting go of control for even a second, just to get some shut eye is—
Something frightening is outlined in your peripheral vision, the dash of a pale shape you aren’t able to discern before it’s gone. The air turns metallic and stale and you can hear water sloshing, though you’re nowhere near the pools. All your blood rushes in your ears and your fingers curl, like you’re gripping your seat—gripping the edge of the couch in the common room, where you’d been sitting beside Mina when Kaminari put on that horror movie. The one with the—
“The hell are you doin’?”
Your eyes snap open for the hundredth time that night—show over, credits rolling—and it’s Bakugou. Standing only feet away from the new set of clay shards of your failure, tangible and real and staring at you with an intensity not even your dreams could mimic.
You blink, eyes stinging and heavy. You must look insane. “Oh, hey,” the voice that comes out of you is far-away, chartered off to distant lands, and he notices immediately, focus razor-sharp despite how late it is. “What did you say?”
Bakugou wrinkles his nose, like he’s offended at having to repeat himself. “I said, what the hell are you doin’? It’s nearly 2 in the morning and you’re out here throwin’ shit around in your fuckin’ pajamas.”
Almost on cue, the breeze brushes past your legs, chilly enough to have you shivering, and you peek down at them as if you don’t know what they look like. The sweater you’re wearing is from second year and the U.A. logo is half-worn off, but it’s the comfiest thing you own and if you’re going to be plagued all night by the forced intimacy of your classmates’ dreams—you at least want to be cozy.
When you look back up at him, Bakugou is pointedly looking away, taking interest in something other than your wimpy state of dress.
It dawns on you then that he’s out here, too, in sweats and a simple back sweatshirt, hair a messy, golden halo in the pale, buzzing field lights. If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost think his face was a little rosy, but—maybe you’re seeing things.
Still. Being out and away from everyone, alone with Bakugou, makes your stomach tighten horribly. Like you’ve done too many sit-ups.
You try to brush off your sudden bout of shyness, because you know he’ll clock that in no time, too. “Well, I could ask you the same thing.” At the raise of your eyebrows, he only tchs, and casts you a filthy look. “But I think maybe I’ll just mind my own business.”
The face he makes is so awful and hot-blooded that you laugh, truly and earnestly, enough that a headache pulses to life. You wince, and the stream of pain that shoots down the middle of your skull brings back that image of Kirishima’s action-thriller: blood and knives, the sound of skin on skin, a fist against cheekbones, the ugly snap of breaking—
“Oi.”
Bakugou is closer than before, when you’re grounded back inside yourself. At least no pots have been broken this time. Less to clean up.
“Sorry,” you shoot him an apologetic smile that you know he must hate. “It’s just so—” your hand feels like it’s made of lead, but you drag it up to massage slow circles into your temple, trying not to grit your teeth and worsen the pounding in your head. “So loud sometimes.”
He’s silent until the pain ebbs out, and when you can blink without flinching, you peek up to catch how intently he’s watching your face. In the night like this, his eyelashes seem darker, longer, a kind of haunting beauty you would dream about, if you could get some sleep.
Again, you think of Kaminari’s horror movie, legs pressed against Mina’s under the heavy comforter she’d brought down from her room. It’s warm, the kind of pink, fluffy thing you’d imagine a girl like her to have—but it didn’t stop you from shivering every time you chanced a glance at Bakugou and found him already staring back.
The heat in your cheeks spreads to the back of your neck, so immediate that you think you might start sweating. “Dreams and stuff,” you murmur, by way of an explanation, “nightmares, sometimes.”
Bakugou's frown deepens, the muscle in his jaw tightening once as he grits his teeth. “What, you can just…hear that shit all night?”
“Usually,” you shrug, “It just comes in, you know? And I—” you steal another glance at him, aware, then, of just how intrusive you might sound. The veil of privacy is thin between you and others, and they don't often like being reminded of that. “Not for you, though. I don't—I don't get anything from you.”
And it's true, frustratingly enough. Not that you are ever intentionally peeking into anyone's head, but things slip through, occasionally—sudden reactions, wild, loose trains of thought.
Bakugou's face twists, regardless, and you're reminded of all the times you've been forced to spar together, at Eraser's behest. One of the smartest in your class, quick on his feet and never without a plan; every time you've managed to get a hand on Bakugou, there's been nothing but a sea-shore calm.
It's hard to do and, at this point in your life, you've seen a thousand people try it—but he's the only one that's ever succeeded in keeping you at bay.
Nothing in his expression changes, but all your nerves spread to your voice until it shakes. “You're—I don't look in there, of course, but it's—you've always been…” Bakugou is terrible at taking compliments, you know that, almost as bad as you are at giving them. “Pretty, I guess.”
Awful, at giving them.
Embarrassment floods him, suddenly stained pink as he curls into himself. “Piss off,” he barks, and though he’s scowling at you in what must be disgust—you can’t help but to smile at how aggressively bashful he is.
You almost get the guts to make matters worse, just because you can. Admit how handsome you’ve come to find him, after the last few years, until his face is steaming in the sweet nighttime chill; the kind of intimacy you wouldn’t mind dreaming about again and again.
The absence of his thoughts are a comfort for your tired mind, has all the harsh edges of night fading into something a little easier to swallow, to breathe in. You know he does it on purpose as a strictly defensive move, but you almost want to thank him. For the quiet.
You don’t know if it’s from you or him, but when you reach a hand up to hover near his temple, the air buzzes between you, gently. Charged with that same thing that had you unable to look away from him in the common room only days ago. “In here, I mean,” you murmur, and the smile you pull on feels lame, but it’s as genuine as ever. “I don’t know, I don’t know how you do it. But it’s…nice.”
You’ve seen him die a thousand times.
Mostly in Midoriya’s dreams, sometimes in Eraser’s when he nods off during last period, but that horror—like many others, from that day—stains you all. When dinner is put away and showers are finished and the lights go out and the flood gates open, someone almost always relives the ugliness of it all; you’re more familiar with that moment than you are with any of your own.
Here and now, you close your eyes and see Jirou staring back at you, face beautiful and full of hope. You see Kirishima’s torn suit jacket and the blood on his cheek and the empty gun in his hand, the most dedicated secret agent. Aoyama is dreaming of his mother, something warm that makes you feel like you’re dazzling, too.
And yet—Bakugou is silent. Even right in front of you. Even after everything.
If anyone deserves the peace and quiet, you suppose it ought to be him.
“When’s the last time you got any sleep?”
You blink until his blurry figure is clear, and it’s like you can physically feel whatever energy you had left seeping from your body at the mere mention of sleep. “Maybe a morning or two ago,” you tell him truthfully, “I usually pass out after a few rounds of ‘throwin’ shit around’.”
Bakugou only stares at you as he digests the words, and once he’s gotten them down, he shakes his head before looking out over the mess you’ve made of the training field. With his head turned like this, you can take in the full weight of his scar—the one that’s wide and still baby-pink across his cheek.
You almost get the guts to tell him he’s handsome. Almost.
Frustration is evident on his face when he looks back at you, but his voice comes out softer than you expect, like he's struggling to get out any words at all. “Can’t keep doin’ this,” he chastises. “Can’t be a Hero if you’re half asleep all the time. Gotta figure this shit out.”
“I am,” you give a lazy wave to your pots, “What’s wrong with this solution?”
“It's ass.”
“Alright, you have any better ideas, pretty boy?”
He bristles, visibly enough to have you snickering, and—you’re not sure what you expect of him; to continue his griping or leave you to your own devices, building his walls up high as he always does. Ever the fighter, ever the protector; maybe it’s a good thing, you tell yourself, because you’re weak like this and one of you needs to be thinking straight.
Despite his flush, there’s a playfulness to his grouchy expression, his raspy tone—and it has you leaning too far into things you don’t know how to name.
You never know what to expect of him.
There’s the slightest brush of skin against the back of your hand, and when you drop your eyes to the slowly-dwindling space between you—the rough pads of his fingers are touching you, gently. Softly enough to be the breeze, if it weren’t so warm.
You’re afraid to look at him, suddenly, like it will break whatever spell the night is casting over both of you; instead you press your lips together to stop their wobbling and the smile fighting to give you away. You’re waiting for that sea-shore calm, that quiet comfort, whatever it is he’s trying to offer you, strangely enough, in this moment. When you turn your hand over to catch his, the air buzzes again and the blood rushes in your ears.
You focus and—all you can see is your own face staring back at you. In a flash, like he’s cycling through his cards in a hurry, trying to find the best one.
You, across the arena during the entrance exam. You, in the locker room before the Sport's Festival. You, sitting in the common room during Christmas. You, ruined with tears and your own blood and covered in grime, on the darkest day of your life.
You, now. On the field in the stale light, prettier than you think you must look, for being so exhausted, the lines of your smile deep as you grin up at him.
—And then there's nothing.
The absence of noise is louder than anything. A stark, white silence that cuts through; a different world trickling away. A single touch and a little focus is all it takes to take root inside someone’s head and that’s always felt like a weapon, but now it feels like coming inside from a snowstorm, relief shuddering down your spine. Everyone else's fears and nerves and heartaches dissolve until they’re only a bitter taste at the back of your throat. Something far, far behind you
There’s just Bakugou. A strong silence that feels impenetrable, invulnerable to the outside. The steady beat of his heart is comforting in a way you didn’t realize it would be, has that bloody, dead-eyed image of him shifting into something else: another moment in Midoriya’s memories, of his silhouette standing in the sun, tall and fierce and alive.
Returned. Here and now with you, after numerous, unforeseen turns of events. You wonder if the ease surrounding you is his own, something else he’s sharing—or if this is just how it feels to be with him after so long. Maybe in the past it was different—you know it was; during the entrance exam, during the Sport’s Festival—but now you feel more relaxed than you ever have. A reminder that, no matter how dark the nights get, the sun is only just beyond the horizon.
Returned, comforting and quiet.
(You won't know this until much later, but your hand will go slack in Katsuki's and his fingers will tighten around your own because he's not ready to let go yet. When your knees buckle, he'll already be there, awkwardly holding you up against his shoulder as his face flames and his eyes dart around the empty field, checking for any shitty snoops.
Ears is always up damn late, too, and there's a decent chance he'd get caught trying to haul you back to your room on the third fuckin’ floor, so there's really no better option than to gently lower you both to the grass. After a couple of minutes with no movement, the field lights will shut off and only the distant glow of the stars will remain.)
(You won't know this until much later, but Katsuki will arrange the both of you so that your head isn't slumped on the hard ground, but resting on the plush of his bicep, an arm around your shoulders so that the warmth can be shared between you both. His heart will pound hard enough in his chest to be worrisome, and every time you shuffle and scoot closer to him and nudge your nose into his sweater—Katsuki will fight to stay open and true, only honest with you in this wordless way.)
(You won't know this until the sun rises high behind your lids and your bones ache and he’s shown you things he could never say, but it's the best sleep you think you've ever gotten. With him, under the stars, surrounded by his calm and his constant.)
(You won't remember this but in your dream—your real dream, born from with solace Katsuki offers you—the morning will rise and settle in and he'll walk you back to your room despite the stares and in the elevator when you're alone, his lips will touch yours and you'll feel his heart in your chest and his nerves in your stomach and his fear and relief all in one.)
(And right away, when you wake up, you'll finally have a name for this thing that's been blooming between you both for as long as you can remember—and he will, too.)
#i was so nervous about getting the quirk right kahfkahf#and then i was so nervous about it being fluffy enough bc the first draft of this was too angsty ??#SO I REWROTE IT LOL#i hope this is okay !! 🥺#i love the idea of bakugou being able to express how he feels in emotion only#that the fear he doesn't know how to name or how to explain or understand is conveyed to you somehow#whenever he touches you#🥺#tysm for giving me the chance to write it !!!#literally no but seriously you're the only reason i haven't privated this blog again LMAOOO tysm 🥺#✿ willow writes#✿ one shot: bakugou
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Hiii congrats on 2k! 🥰😘 can I request canon post war Levi x reader exploring the world they fought for and cuz I have to include this the reader blurting out how pretty he is and him calling her a brat
Sorry for this oddly specific weird request I'll go back to my corner now lol
I LOVE THIS PIC SM SDKFJKSDJF HE'S SO POUTY
turned this into a oneshot oops LMAO i just love postwar dadvi sm 😭
also shout-out to @chaotic-on-main for the cute idea of levi trying to explain the rumbling through shitty drawings
Just Being You | 2K Follower Event | Post-War Dadvi Oneshot
✧ word count ➼ 1.2k ✧ notes ➼ post-war, fluff, levi's attempt at explaining the Rumbling to a six year old lol
"Daddy, why is the island the only place that doesn't need to be fixed?"
You looked down at your six-year-old daughter that had been spinning in circles just a few seconds ago that was now kneeling next to Levi in his wheelchair, bombarding him with questions regarding the Rumbling.
The three of you were currently on a boat traveling back from Paradis Island, having decided to take a few weeks of vacationing to see the Titan-free world that so many had been sacrificed for. You were on your way back from the island after showing your daughter where her parents met, as well as some of the nicer areas of the island that wasn't overwhelmed with their military forces, like the beach or the meadow that you and Levi commonly snuck off to when you were overwhelmed.
You quickly tried to formulate some response about how it was too complicated for you to explain right now, not wanting to expose your six-year-old to the horrors that nearly caused the extinction of humanity, but you looked towards Levi as he reached into his bag to pull something out to help answer her question.
This wasn't that much of a surprise to you. Levi wasn't a fan of lying to her. He never was the type to sugarcoat or make up some cheesy story to avoid exposing kids to the grim reality of what had happened, and he especially wasn't the type to do that to his own kid.
You saw him pull out his sketchbook that he had recently picked up, wanting to pursue some type of hobby that he could do from the couch or his wheelchair on days when his knee was flaring up.
You watched as he began to draw out the Titans, explaining how big they were compared to humans, and how colossal the Titans involved in the Rumbling were, eventually going on to explain that the big Titans came from the island and spread throughout the world. You found yourself considerably impressed with how he was explaining the war without going into too many details regarding the xenophobia the world had against the Eldians.
"What's that?" your daughter asked, genuinely interested, but also confused as Levi began drawing the structure of the Walls.
Levi wasn't a great artist. He had started drawing the Walls to explain how the Titans moved during the Rumbling, but it was from a top-down perspective, so it just looked like three circles surrounded by stick figures.
"The walls that used to be on the island," he explained with a sigh.
"Is that the island?" she asked, pointing to the dot at the center that was supposed to represent Mitras. "Why were the Walls built in the ocean?"
"They weren't," he explained, trying to hide the irritation in his voice over his inability to draw something comprehensible. "That was Mitras, the Capital and center of the island. The Walls surrounded it."
You watched her nod rapidly as he explained whatever it was that he was trying to draw. Despite how much he was struggling to get his point across, she seemed to be genuinely interested in the history of the island.
"Why are there people floating?" she asked after he began explaining how you used mobility gear to fight against the Titans to compensate for how large they were.
"Is that supposed to be me?" you asked, finally leaning over to see what it was that he was trying to draw, and pointing at a stick figure that vaguely had a hairstyle matching yours.
Levi paused and you could tell that he was getting exasperated with the comments and questions.
You could almost hear him blatantly groan in relief as he cursed underneath his breath once your child's attention was ripped away by a dog belonging to another one of the tourists running by.
"Mommy, can I go play with the puppy?" she asked excitedly while tugging at your shirt.
You nodded, reaching down and fixing a strand of her hair that had formed into a loop after getting tangled.
"Just don't go too far, okay? And be nice to them. I'm sure that poor puppy is overwhelmed."
You watched as she ran off to play with the dog while incoherently explaining Levi's history lesson to them.
Sighing, you sat down on the bench next to Levi as he pinched the bridge of his nose, quickly developing a headache from how flustered he had gotten while trying to explain a somewhat complex topic to his child that had yet to develop an attention span.
"Maybe we can pay for you to get art lessons once we get back home."
"Don't start," Levi grumbled, barely letting you finish your sentence.
You chuckled at his reaction as you grabbed at the drawings he had produced. They were indeed terrible and barely comprehensible, but ended up looking quite cute as a result, despite the fact that they were attempting to depict a bleak reality.
Your smile gradually faded as you got reminded of the horrific events that occurred surrounding the Rumbling, and even before then, when you were trapped within the Walls, with your comrades dying left and right while fighting in what seemed like a hopeless war.
"Lev'," you voiced, getting his attention, "don't you think she's a bit too young to be explaining all this to?"
He glanced over at you.
"What, you want me to lie to her instead?"
"She's six," you reminded him. "I don't know if she can even comprehend the fact that nearly all of humanity was wiped out."
Levi paused for a moment, knowing that you were right. It was a big topic to be explaining to someone so young. Still, he wouldn't have felt right lying to her in a vain effort to protect her innocence while living in a world that was nowhere near innocent.
"She's a smart kid," he eventually murmured. "She'll manage."
After noticing that you weren't responding, he looked over at you, and saw you eyeing him with a warm smile on your face, despite the fact that the two of you were in disagreement over this topic.
"What?"
"Hmm? Oh nothing, it's just..."
You trailed off, slightly shaking your head as you tried to keep the smile on your face from growing too wide.
"I just love seeing you with her like this. It's almost like it's in your nature—being a dad," you mused, your heart warming. "Never thought I'd be fortunate enough to get to see papa Levi on a daily basis."
You looked at him as you smiled, noticing the slight tint that had appeared on his cheeks.
"Plus, I never get to really appreciate how god damn pretty you are when you're just...being you."
Levi was clearly struggling to hide the blush forming on his cheeks and ears at this point, and cleared his throat as he shifted around in his chair after averting his gaze.
"What?" you teased, noting his struggles in maintaining that aloof demeanor that you had worked so hard to break down throughout your relationship.
"You're such a brat sometimes," he grumbled, annoyed—and a tad embarrassed—at the fact that you pointed out his natural tendency when it came to fathering your child.
You chuckled as you leaned forward and placed a gentle and quick kiss on his cheek.
"Love you too, Ackerman."
tagging since this was an actual oneshot! :3 #: @chaotic-on-main @levisbrat25 @leviismybby @moonmalice @averysmolbear @cathybarn @tclbts @emiwhore @bejewelledd @sad-darksoul @ackermendick @aomi04 @apolloshaiku @laraackerman @pulpolicia @raenacreates @nube55 @roseofdarknessblog @saenora @noctemys @sixpennydame @sleepyfairyxo @heichoucleanfreak @svftackerman @catskze @nixie-writes-aot @la-undercover-latina @v4mp-wife @darkstarlight82 @professorweezy @braunsbabe
#levi x reader#levi ackerman x reader#levi heichou x reader#captain levi x reader#levi fluff#follower event#levi#levi ackerman#levi heichou#captain levi#attack on titan#aot#shingeki no kyojin#shingeki no kyoujin#snk
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Seeing as how you're doing headcanons again i'd like to request hcs of Gavin,Milo,Sam,Vincent,and Guy( btw here's a thought for ya Guy as Hermes dangerous has stuck in my head for the past couple hours send help) also your previous hc were also great!(you could say they were ruthless ha ha ha im sorry that was bad lol)
~ Deviant anon (⊃◕ω◕(´ω`*⊂)
idk if you can tell but I really like Guy
also I wrote headcanons for some character recently so characters like Gavin, Sam, and Milo have them a lil short than Vincent and Guy since it takes a while to think about possible in-character hcs for them. Sorry :(
Lots of Headcanons #3
Gavin
Believe it or not, Gavin’s social media accounts are usually blank. Save for Instagram. He just has them to comment under the group’s posts.
Despite never reading a book, Freelancer has told him he’d do best in the writing industry.
He does not know how to hold a baby. If you give him a baby for any reason he’d hold it with both of his hands under its shoulders.
The worst he’s been scared was when he played a horror VR game, but he didn’t scream or anything he really just jolted and went “shit” and moved on. Freelancer was not amused.
He likes being the big spoon when he and FL cuddle because he gets to breathe in their scent, hold them, and remind himself that this is real, and not just a dream he’ll wake up from.
Milo
You can’t beat him in cup pong. Digitally or physically. You just can’t.
The only reason David is considered a better cook than Milo is because Milo uses a lot of seasoning and the pack is full of babies who can’t handle oregano or sazón.
Whenever the pack goes somewhere tropical he has to wear a shirt or Sweetheart will constantly attempt to latch onto his torso.
Milo and cats have always gone together like peanut butter and jelly. He had a cat toy when he was a toddler, his first cell phone had a stray cat as his wallpaper, he’d feed the stray cats around his home, etc. So when he learned that he and the people around him could turn into “dogs” (wolves but still) he was DEVASTATED. Got over it after a day tho.
He likes juice boxes.
Avid Apple Juice “tastes like piss” hater, although he also says mint ice cream tastes like toothpaste so take that as you will.
Sam
Sam fucking hates cowboys.
Sam had braces from the ages of 19-21 and the only upside he had to being a vampire when he first turned was that he didn’t need his retainer anymore.
Sam always reads manga wrong and no matter how many times anyone explains it he’ll read it from left to right and never understands what’s going on.
The closest Sam has gotten to riding a horse is when he flopped on top of Darlin’s back while they were shifted and they walked around his house like that…he’s never been on a horse.
Sam has a lot of existential crisises, compared to like Vincent or Porter.
If something's flying and he can't figure out if it's a plane, helicopter, animal, or any identifiable flying object, he just believes it's an Alien UFO and moves on.
Darlin' gave him a wheat head for Christmas once. He was not amused.
Vincent
Wanted to be a youtuber for a brief period in time in 2010.
Had a weird obsession with those traced anime characters dancing tiktoks in 2020, a little after meeting Lovely.
He canonically has multiple cars he likes showing off to Lovely, but he also nearly never uses them and it’s Lovely who showboats them and takes them on joyrides.
He didn’t believe William at first when he was first told he’s a vampire now and was the only one who survived The Surge incident, until they both saw his funeral take place and see his grave, which took place a long time after the accident because his parents refused to believe he was dead.
He had 3 tomodachis at once and they all constantly died because he forgot feeding them was a thing.
He commonly "regrets" asking William to make him unable to lie to Lovely because they like to ask him embarrassing questions on purpose and he can’t help but answer them, even though he could just stay quiet.
His favorite memory as a kid was roller skating with his parents on his 7th birthday. Even though he fell on his face, sprained his ankle, and had a loose tooth fall out. Still his favorite day.
Guy
GUY IS SO HERMES CODED UR RIGHT
Turned a fanfic he wrote as his college essay and got in just because of it.
Was very afraid of Honey when they first met, they kept staring at him like he was the scum of the Earth. They just wanted to talk to him about the Animal Crossing pin on his backpack.
Whenever his friends order from Max’s, and he turns out to be their delivery guy, they make fun of him so much (playfully) and give him a 10 dollar tip
He borrowed his friend’s motorcycle to impress Honey
Cried over Gnomeo and Juliet
Dressed up as the Thomas Jefferson Miku Binder drawing in 2023.
He almost gave himself a buzzcut once when he was drunk, he had to be held down because everyone knew he’d regret it so hard later, not matter how funny it’d be.
#A wheat head is the thing cowboys have in their mouths#When I write headcanons it mainly consists of me playing Tower of hell on roblox and switching tabs to write a hc whenever one comes to min#its a long process but also very fun#its also why I only write HCs on my laptop#bc fuck mobile roblox#ALSO GUY WOULD ABSOLUTELY LOVE DANGEROUS especially the livestream animation holy shit#redacted audio#redacted asmr#redactedverse#redacted sam#redacted darlin#redacted milo#redacted vincent#redacted guy#redacted honey
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finished the young blood book! Though it’s definitely YA rather than as mature, it gave me a lot of nostalgia for the post-S1 fics where people thought they were goin gto be ported to childhood, and I thought the little details and the way the characters were characterized was actually really good! I loved how many parallels there were to canon and the further elaboration on the day to day life of the Umbrella Academy (and Viktor)
I wouldn’t take the book as a 100% canon source, but here are some disconnected small details that I enjoyed: SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT
- Twice trying to wrangle the hargreeves is referred to as “herding cats”, which is very accurate
- Grace custom sews their outfits and adjusts them for each member 🥺🥺🥺🥺 Luther gets a new one every time he grows, Diego has secret compartments for his knives, Ben has tentacle openings, Viktor’s looks a little too big on him
- I could definitely see how this Luther turns into S1 Luther but also he’s such a good guy. He just wants to help people and receive hugs
- Diego;;; my goodness. He loves his mom and also very much has a black and white view of justice. This is when he figures out he likes all black utility gear rather than the uniform
- Allison )::: allison )::: It’s so weird to see her feel out of place among other girls considering she grows up to be a famous actress but I think it was a good moment, as well as foreshadowing for her whole issues with the rumors
- Klaus is so vibrant here. He learned how to hotwire a car (They call Hargreeves’ car Hermes) at 12 from a ghost, regularly sneaks out of the house through the sewage system (the siblings refuse to do this) and is the life of the party
- Five was mentioned and acknowledged a couple times and every time it made me go ): The revelation that Ben had a daily check-in with Klaus asking about whether he could see Five or not and always believed Five was out there somewhere destroyed me. My crumbs ): oh ):
- Ben is my favorite character so I’m so glad he gets a POV here and an actual voice! He definitely has a good heart but also definitely doesn’t fall into the solely “shy and totally passive” stereotype <3 also im just happy for content of umbrella ben i miss him
- Viktor!!! He isn’t sure if Mom claps for his violin because of if he’s actually good or. He’s very lonely but the kids do include him a little bit which is lovely. Definitely some parallels to S1 canon. Also! Some Viktor trans moments where he ruminates on that for a little bit without knowing the actual cause, the mirror line has relevance here. I thought it was handled nicely but obviously I can’t speak on experiences that aren’t my own.
Other misc details:
- Ben gets calmer under high pressure situations and therefore becomes pretty good at pool despite never having played
- Klaus likes to jump from roofs for the fun of it and just thinks his body is extremely resilient to head trauma. Klaus. Klaus no. 😭
- Diego uses “Boy Scout” as a insult for Luther, who doesn’t mind because Boy Scouts are supposed to be dependable
- Diego has always been pretty good at dancing
- The Umbrella Academy never stick around to clean up after themselves on missions
- Ben and Viktor can fit together in the passenger seat
- Favorite meals: Ben likes PB+J and potato chips, Klaus likes bubblegum ice cream, Diego likes roast beef, Luther hamburger and fries, and a hot dog for Allison (though according to her it hasn’t been her fav food in years, and also she forgot Five’s favorite and Viktor’s favorite)
- Klaus listens to heavy metal (to drown out the ghosts), Allison likes pop music
- Viktor learned how to drive one year before this book, taught by Pogo. He has his license! Klaus knows how to drive too but he drives much more recklessly lol
- Allison once had a solo magazine cover and she can’t remember whether she rumored for it or not (foreshadowing)
- Ben has never told anyone that the tentacles hurt when they come out ())):) [BODY HORROR TW] They are also literally slithering under his ski, he can feel em with his organs, and the skin is tender where they come out
- Allison knows CPR. and uses it after one of the siblings has a near death experience 👍
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