#everyday a new monstrosity

[redvelvetwishtree]

Footage from this attack is horrifying to watch, please why are people still defending and trying to find hollow excuses for this unreal state of things.

[0nlyhere4phil]

Rating All of The Howlters New Outfits (except the randomized ones)

Some of you actually asked for this, so here's my review of the Howlters new outfits!

Starting with Dils Formal:

I honestly don't know how to feel about this. It's just not Dil. It doesn't go with his nerdy dad vibe at all. It makes him look older, it doesn't fit him right, and the color is really weird. If they had gone with the blue and some different shoes I think I would have liked it more, but since they didn't put much effort into it it's just bad. Objectively it's an okay suit, but for Dil it just doesn't work. So yeah overall just a no 4/10.

Next His Sleepwear:

Why did they like this so much? What is actually wrong with them? If it was just the pants and the slippers it would have been fine, but the pants, the slippers, AND socks...it's just too much. No no no bad. 2/10.

Next His Party Wear:

What are they doing to him?? Who is this? I'm kind of just staring at this not knowing what to say, because I think if, minus that UGLY HAT, this was on a different and younger sim it would look okay. This looks like Dil is going through a midlife crisis. I like that the shoes match the shirt, thats nice, and I like the overall color pallet, BUT NOT ON DIL! So I'm weirdly torn, but since this look is on Dil I don't like it. Again it's not that bad but on Dil it's just horrible 4.5/10. I hate that fucking hat.

Next His Swimwear:

You don't get how relieved I am that they didn't put him in a fucking speedo. I like this a lot. This looks like a father, which is perfect for Dil. It's cute, it's simple, and I like the colors they chose. 9/10

Next His Hot Weather:

Meh. They didn't change much, they just made it worse. I prefered the original because I feel like the green looked better. Also wearing slippers on a hot day sounds absolutely HORRIBLE! 3/10

Next His Cold Weather:

I absolutely LOVE THIS! It's so fun! Dil in the horrible 80s dad aesthetic works perfectly! It's still nerdy as well! I feel like this is perfect. If they had made his whole wardrobe this over the top ugly neon nerdy look I would have loved it! 10/10

That's it for Dil. To say I'm disappointed is an understatement. I feel like they should have gone for nerdy Dad than whatever the hell they actually did. Next up is Tabitha.

Tabitha's Everyday:

This is just an upgraded version of her original outfit. I like the new hair color, though I wish they looked through different hairstyles cause the one they chose is not giving what it needed to give. I LOVE her new tattoo, I think it's fun that they gave her it. I also do like the shoes matching the hair. This is cute! 8.5/10

Next Her Formal:

I like the dress, but the outfit looks unfinished. They should have changed her makeup into something more dramatic to match the dress, and they also should have put some bracelets and necklaces on her. They did good on picking the main part of the outfit now they need to go back and finish it. 6/10 (I couldn't get a good screenshot with the tattoo sorry)

Next Her Sleepwear:

Slay queen. I love this honestly. I like how lavender has become her color. The sunglasses are iconic. The only thing I hate is SOCKS WITH SLIPPERS! THAT LOOKS LIKE IT FEELS HORRIBLE! Other than the sock and slipper combo this eats. 9.5/10

Next Her Party:

I beg your pardon? What is THIS and WHY was Dan so obsessed with it? This is horrible. I'm glad they remembered that necklaces and nails exist but I'm upset they exist on this monstrosity. Nothing about this goes together. THIS. IS. THEIR. WORST. LOOK. 1/10.

Next Her Swimwear:

It's kind of a mess but I kind of love it. I feel like it suits this new Tabitha. I don't have much to say other than it strangely works. 7/10.

Next Her Hot Weather:

Fuck right off. Daniel you know NOTHING about goths. This is horrible. This poor woman is going to feel so sticky and sweaty, and it wont even be worth it because this outfit is trash. Just no. 1.5/10.

Next Her Cold Weather:

I really like this. I love how throughout the outfit pink pops up, and I like that it makes sense for the category it's in. Good job Dan and Phil 9/10

That's it for Tabitha! For the most part her new outfits aren't bad. I like that they (unintentionally) gave her a pastel goth sort of vibe, I like that she does look like a streamer now, and I think the new tattoo is really cool. I will never forgive them for her party wear though. Moving on to Dalien.

Daliens Everyday:

This is fine. I wish the pants were the skinny jeans because those were more emo, and I wish he had black eyeliner. Overall it's not bad, but I prefer the original. Also they should have stuck with the purple highlights instead of changing them to red. 7.5/10

Next His Sportswear:

Ew ew ew. This is rancid. The hoodie makes him look bald, and I despise the ripped socks they gave him. I actually like the shorts though they remind me of something Phil would have had back in 2010, but even then working out in those shorts sounds like a nightmare. Other than the shorts this whole look is a wreck. 1.5/10

Next His Party Wear:

The outfit itself is okay but this is NOT Dalien. This looks like Dalien stole from a skater boy. They had the opportunity to go absolutely insane with this outfit. They could have given him crazy black makeup, a sheer shirt, some fishnets, and platforms, but instead they did this. It's lazy. It's not emo or goth or whatever they want him to be. 4/10

Next His Swimwear:

Jesus Christ. NO. Just NO. 1.5/10

Next His Hot Weather:

Why didn't they give him FISHNETS? Why did they choose those grandpa socks??? Why is EVERYTHING GREY BUT THE DRESS?? I think the idea of Dalien wearing a dress is cunty, but not like this. I feel like he would be a long skirt kind of guy. Also the cuff like glove things in the summer sounds horrible. 4.5/10.

Next His Cold Weather:

Again this is just a no. Nothing about this is emo or goth or whatever they want him to be. I like the jacket and the boots a lot; if they had put Dalien in some skinny jeans and removed that fucking hat this would have been okay. I mean this in a derogatory way, this is something Dan would wear. 5.5/10

That's it for Dalien. Overall it's just not good. Most of it makes no sense, and they also should have given him black eyeliner.

In conclusion, they really did the Howlters dirty. This is probably the ugliest dressed family I've ever seen. None of these outfits gave what they needed to give. Also this family is a sensory NIGHTMARE!

I hope whoever is reading this enjoyed this or atleast agrees with some of my points. Have a wonderful rest of your day, evening, or morning.

[somewhere-at-the-burrow]

i wanna start by saying that I LOVE YOU SO MUCH I HOPE BOTH SIDES OF YOUR PILLOW ARE COLD 24/7. Your posts are always so entertaining, informative, and motivational, everyday i'm looking forward to see them. i can literally feel the love when you talk about your dr, it makes me so excited to shift to my dr.

after reading your post about Charlie, the curiosities i had growing up came back to me. To give a bit of context, i am romanian and Charlie was always my favorite Weasley bcs he lives in my country😭 i felt so special as a kid reading the book.

I wonder if he enjoys living there? Are the romanian community of wizards different than the british ones? does the culture influence the way wizards do magic? Did Charlie had to move to Romania to work because Romania has a larger number of dragons than other countries ? If not, why? I JUST HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS I'M SORRY😭😭

this was so sweet to read LOVE YOU TOOO <3

it is so cool that my stories are reaching audiences in romania whaaat?? I love the internet.

also, these are such cool questions, and I definitely don't know as much about Romania as Charlie does, but we do write a lot so I can try and answer what I know!! thank you for a fun ask :)

to start, Charlie has always wanted to visit Romania since as long as I can honestly remember. there are many dragon sanctuaries throughout the world, but the most well known one is in a classified location in Romania. I think Charlie said it was near Borca? I have no idea--- it is somewhere near the mountains and Charlie is not allowed to say much about it, so we piece together information that he gives us in letters!

Charlie has always been fascinated by the balaur, which is a creature he was always drawing doodles of since he discovered it in a dragon book. I'M NOT KIDDING, there is a drawing of the multiple-headed dragon monstrosity hanging at the base of the stairwell in the Burrow. this guy was OBSESSED

so, when he got accepted into the dragonology institute and preservation center in Romania, it was so monumental because he quite literally has been babbling about that place since Hagrid told him about it. also, the institute is very selective in who they choose to teach and have help in this dangerous environment, so it was such an honor the our Charlie got to go.

in his letters, he enjoys the culture and environment of Romania so much! he tells me that the mythology there is so detailed and there is such an environment of magical creatures that are studied and preserved in the country. because the sanctuary Charlie works at includes a worldwide effort, he is pretty immersed in all sorts of cultures and languages, but he has made it a goal to learn Romanian --so holiday will be wild when he comes back and shows that off!!

as for the Romanian government of magic... I don't know much and we don't hear about them that often :(

but now that I've gotten this question, I will definitely pay more attention to the news etc!

I do know that the Transylvanian quidditch team is IMPECCABLE. the world league is starting soon, and it is always a big deal with that team because they do the craziest stunts MID GAME. I mostly remember this one Transylvanian chaser named Beatrix Petri, who made a whole page in the Seeker Weekly for completing such a dangerous nose dive that even critics in the audience didn't know if she would make it. SHE'S A LEGEND

about the culture--- I'd say the mythology of Romania definitely shapes the way they practice magic and the way the rest of the wizarding world views that country! we can't go more than a couple days in my magical creatures class without mentioning some mythological / theorized creature that originates in Romania. it is the coolest!

hope this helped answer some of your questions!! i love love these little details from my weasley reality and I hope to one day visit Charlie in Romania (I hope!!)

also, no questions are ever too many! I love being here to answer them and it makes me feel so connected to my DR .. it is the best motivation!! <3

[violet-bruises]

Baby Lay Your Head Down

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x OFC (SSA Sophie Carter)

Warnings: Established past relationship (kind of), mild suggestive language, mentions of grief, mentions of death and almost death, mentions of suppressing emotions, excessive longing, angst

Author's note: I've had ideas for Hotch swirling in my head for months years, and this is the first time I've managed to get anything down on paper. In my head, my OFC is a little more fleshed out, as is her relationship to Hotch, and their story is much larger. This is just a small blurb taken from a point in their story that was swirling in my mind recently. I hope it makes sense lol. ALSO! This is my very first time posting to tumblr, or publicly at all for that matter.

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN AARON HOTCHNER AS A CHARACTER! ALL CREDIT TO THE CREATOR! (did i say it right?)

Word count: 2,474

Summary: Aaron is usually the first one in the office. Usually.

Once upon a time, Aaron loved mornings. In law school, he’d wake up while it was still dark, squeeze in an early run around campus, shower, and enjoy his coffee all before the sun ever began to show its soft colors. When he and Haley were newlyweds, he’d surprise her with breakfast in bed—which quickly grew cold as they entangled themselves in their straight from the registry sheets. And once Jack was born, Aaron would wake up just to hold him, rock him in the cushioned chair in his nursery before work. But soon, slowly and then all at once, his life grew darker. A thick shadow cast over his days, no matter how high the sun sat in the sky. He and Haley drifted apart. He’d wake many mornings to an empty apartment—no longer a home, much less a house. He spent his mornings in the confines of the BAU. And then Haley died, and Jack almost did; Aaron started sneaking into Jack’s room to watch him sleep just to reassure himself that his son was still here, alive and breathing.

But eventually, mornings became bearable, until they were even enjoyable again. The thick smog over his days lifted. He stopped going into the office early and started having small moments with Jack. Aaron got to enjoy his coffee again, squeeze in the occasional early run, and, for the first time ever, eat breakfast in bed, made for him. For the first time, Aaron’s small apartment felt like home; the soft colors of the sun were no match the vibrant warmth Sophie carted into his life. But clearly Aaron was cursed long ago to fulfill the same prophecy over and over again, because, just as he was finally happy again, truly and utterly, deeply and joyously, he managed to fuck that up, too.

So, once again, Aaron arrives early at the office now every morning. Some occasional mornings, he’s not the first one to wake the floor. On those mornings, he’s grateful—a pot of bitter hot coffee almost certain to be residing in the carafe, singing his name. Most mornings, however, Aaron arrives to a dark and empty bullpen, and he’ll trudge to the small kitchenette in the break room before doing anything else to start the coffee. While the coffee brews, Aaron will make his way to his office, setting down his briefcase and unloading the files on his desk. He’ll file away papers he’s finished with, creating a pile for JJ and Garcia to review. By this time, his coffee has dripped enough that he can pour himself a decent cup. Black. No cream or sugar when in the office, not that any amount could truly save the monstrosity. He’ll place the files on Garcia’s desk, then backtrack to JJ’s. Once he returns, he’ll sit at his desk, pouring over case files, old and new, as the sun rises outside and the city wakes and people begin to pour into the office, a trickle, then a flood.

The same routine for the past three months. Every morning. Everyday.

Except for today.

Today, when Aaron manages to pull himself to the seventh floor and into the BAU, he stops short. The usually quiet and dim office space is punctuated by a soft glow, right at its heart. As he approaches from the entrance, he expects someone to be occupying the lit desk, but its chair is empty. Scattered across the tabletop are case files. A file on the missing twin girls in Arizona from last week (paperwork the responsible unit chief in him is praying is finally done) is open on top, but more lie underneath. He can’t quite read the labels in the shadows that escape the desk lamp’s light. Aaron reaches his hand out to thumb through the papers.

“Oh!”

Aaron swivels to find Supervisory Special Agent Sophie Carter, sock-footed and grasping a massive cup of coffee, standing before him, clearly having just emerged from the break room. Aaron briefly, traitorously, wonders what the ratio of actual coffee to sugar to cream she’s decided on today.

“Good morning,” Aaron greets her, gruffly. He hasn’t spoken since waking up, really only just above a whisper when dropping Jack off at Jessica’s. His voice is rough with unuse. Clearing his throat, he tries again. “What are you doing here?”

“Good morning,” Sophie responds. She diverts eye contact and brushes just past Aaron to reach her desk chair. Aaron watches her. “And I work here.”

Aaron’s lips purse displeasingly. After a moment, Sophie glances up at him then sighs. “I, um, couldn’t really sleep. Figured I’d turn that into being a model employee and finally finish all of my paperwork.”

Aaron documents the subtle red tinge bloomed across her cheeks. Still avoiding his questioning and concerned gaze, she raises her coffee mug to her soft lips. I’m Down To Just 1 Cup A Day in big block letters written on the side. The mug is as big as his head.

“I wish you’d chosen that philosophy about ten years ago. Would’ve saved me a few headaches.”

Sophie finally meets his eyes again. Warm and dark, nearly midnight when cast away from the light on her desk. Aaron is reminded of the night skies that cover all of the small towns he’s seen; far enough from the city, awash with billions of tiny dots of light—stars that create impossibly beautiful and intricate patterns in the sky—the vastness could swallow him whole, and he’d welcome it with open arms.

“Ha ha,” she intones, but her eyes never lose their warmth. Aaron chuckles but doesn’t respond. Instead, he watches. Watches her shuffle through papers, write things down on a sticky note, tuck papers away in folders, pull more papers out. Finally, with tight shoulders, she turns to look up at him. “Can I help you?”

Aaron scans her face. “What are you doing here so early?”

She frowns. “I told you. I couldn’t sleep.”

Then, Sophie sighs, slumping back in her chair. Aaron knows she’s tired. But it’s not the discoloration under her eyes, or the heaviness of her lids that gives her away. It’s how quickly she caves to telling the truth. Too tired to be stubborn, Aaron muses. The fight and irritation drain from her in an instant. “I don’t know, Hotch. Genuinely, I really haven’t been sleeping well, promise. But. . . yeah, it’s been more than just a few sleepless nights.” She flops over, forehead resting on her folded arms. “I haven’t had insomnia like this since college.” Her words come out muffled and pitiful, wrought with exhaustion.

“How long has it been this bad?”

“Um, I guess. . . since the serial in Montana.”

“That was three months ago.”

She doesn’t answer; her head stays buried. Aaron frowns, though he pretty much has been since he realized it was her desk light on in the dark office. Since his discovery, the sun has risen a tiny bit beyond the brick of the building, the sky a cornflower blue. Aaron reckons it’s about 5:30—about an hour and a half before anyone starts arriving—two and a half before the bullpen is officially alive for the day (and three before Morgan manages his way in). Aaron’s noticed Sophie’s tiredness. Of course he has. He catches her blank stares and heavy lids easily. He would’ve said something by now, but her exhaustion had, remarkably, not yet affected her job. The minute duty calls, she springs into action, like she’s been a tightly coiled spring finally allowed to burst. But, it’s more than just that that holds Aaron back. Because that wasn’t part of their arrangement, was it? Because asking her if she’s been sleeping, or feeling well, or eating okay, or taking care of herself, or seeing anyone— those questions were off limits. Wasn’t that what they’d decided? The rules they’d laid down?

Aaron never really was good at following the rules.

“C’mon.”

Sophie lifted her head, eyes wide and round. “What?”

“C’mon,” Aaron repeated, holding his hand out for her to take. She looked between him and his outstretched palm, gaze wildly skeptical.

“Aaron. . . we talked—”

“You talked, I listened, and this—this isn’t about that. This is about ensuring all of my subordinates are in appropriate shape to adequately perform their duties.”

“Last time I checked, I perform my duties far better than adequately.”

“Sophie,” he pleads. It’s a mistake and he knows it, but she broke the rule first. She called him Aaron. Not Hotch, or Agent Hotchner. His resolve was weak enough as it was; her so easily tossing around his first name like that, when he hadn’t heard it from her in months, when he had grown so used to hearing it when she lay next to him, or, when she whispered it, breathlessly, under him. “Please just. . . humor me.”

Her icy look melted, trickling down her body as exhaustion quickly crept up on her. She didn’t take his hand, but she did stand, shuffling papers in folders and stacking them neatly on top of each other. Aaron waited patiently for her to finish tidying and wondered if he’d ever unlearn her. If he ever wanted to. Arranging papers and cleaning off the desk cleaner than he’d seen it since before it was hers—she was stalling to fully accept his offer, and he knows it’s a punishment, her not giving in. For whom, he’s not quite sure.

Finally, after ages, she turns to him. Her eyebrows raise.

Aaron simply turns on his heel, slightly tipping his head for her to follow. He leads them up the short staircase and as they cross the threshold into his office. Aaron places his briefcase down on his own desk before turning to the couch pressed against the opposite wall.

“Hotch—” So she did realize her mistake, “—really, I’m fine. This isn’t the first sleepless night and early morning I’ve had. I can manage on my own.”

Aaron doesn’t respond right away, busying himself with gathering blankets and pillows.

“Hotch.”

“I am very aware that you are perfectly capable of managing on your own. But, Soph,” Aaron can see the miniscule pinch in her brows. Small, but powerful in the painful way it tugs at him. He sighs. “Friends, right? Don’t friends. . . take care of each other?”

Aaron knows, knows all too well, that an argument boils on the tip of her tongue. But he also knows the heavy dangle of her limbs and the soft glaze of her eyes means she’s close to nearly collapsing. It’s not fair, what he’s doing. He knows that and yet. . .

He watches her study the makeshift bed he’s made for her. And then, “I suppose. . . Penelope would do the same for me, too.”

Aaron suppresses a smile. “She would.”

“She’d do more, actually. Penelope would have freshly baked cookies waiting for me, too.”

“That she would.”

“Penelope is a better friend than you are.”

Aaron hears the jest in her voice, but he doesn’t smile. “That she is,” he says, softly.

Finally, Sophie drags her feet to the couch. Without meeting his gaze, she climbs under the covers and settles in. She inhales deeply as her eyes flutter shut.

It should be studied, Aaron thinks, the mercurial rush of affection that overcomes him. He wishes he could control it. Tamper it down and bury it under the crushing weight of all the other emotions he has buried and ignored. He’s usually quite good at it, actually, with years of careful experience under his belt. Though maybe that’s the problem; he’s attempting to add to something already overflowing, and the erosion of it all has chipped his self-control down to nearly nothing.

Aaron’s surety is bone deep: he’s destined to love her until the day he dies. Even if she doesn’t want him to, even if she doesn’t love him. He’d use his dying breath to confess his overwhelming and all-consuming truth. His throat grows tight.

He’s about to turn on his heel, afraid of what he’ll do if he lingers any longer, when Sophie softly calls out to him.

“Thank you,” she tells him, her eyes opening to finally meet his again. Like an electric shock, the urge to touch her races through him. To caress her warm cheek in his palm, to cradle her face and pull it closer to his own, to press his lips to hers. Aaron feels his fingers twitch under his thinning restraint.

He allows his lips to curve in a faint smile. “Of course,” he whispers.

Aaron finally retreats. With his back to her, he swears he can feel Sophie watching him, but when he turns back as he reaches his desk, Sophie has flipped onto her side, her back facing him. It’s for the best, Aaron reminds himself. If he’d caught her eye again, the ghost of his resolve would haunt his office forever.

As the hours ticked on, the BAU bullpen slowly comes back to life. Just as eight o’clock slips by and the trickling morning light catches the ends of Sophie’s hair ablaze, a knock sounds on his door. Before Aaron gets a chance to stand and answer, the door opens and Garcia swiftly steps in.

“Good morning, sir! I sent over the background profiles you requested from the Jefferson City case—”

“Thank you, Garcia. I—”

“Also, I got that police chief in Wichita to finally send over the files on that cold case Rossi needed—”

“Garcia—”

“You wouldn’t believe the sweet talking I had to do, I mean, Morgan level—”

“Garcia!” Aaron couldn’t resist glancing at Sophie, still fast asleep.

Unfortunately, Garcia caught his slip, and she followed his gaze.

“Oh!”

Garcia looked between Aaron and Sophie, once. Then twice.

“Oh, sir,” she started, much softer than when she’d entered. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize!” Garcia began to back out of his office. “See! I saw her desk light on but I hadn’t seen her since I got in. I thought maybe she just forgot to turn it off, ya know, but then she didn’t respond to my text! Which I get now why, you know, given that she’s, you know—”

“Garcia.” She stopped at the entry way. “Let’s just— please don’t—”

She nodded rapidly and mimicked zipping her lips shut, locking them, and throwing away the key. “Of course, sir.”

Just before she closed the door, Garcia poked her head back in.

“Oh! Also, I brought leftover cookies I baked for the counseling center. They’re in the kitchen!” And the door clicked shut behind her.

“See,” Sophie mumbled, voice muffled by the pillows. “Told you.”

Aaron laughs. Maybe these new early mornings weren’t so bad after all.

[six-white-venus]

MY FAVORITE WORD EVER

rot

OR!!

gone

you find my corpse on a bright summer morning.

you break into my freezing cabin with a raised eyebrow. unphased. curious. then, a slow smile appears. i am immediately wary.

it has been years since i’ve had visitors in my humble abode and i like it that way. the cold keeps me safe. my body rots like a bruise swells; slow, painful, with withering purples and blues. it stretches the time of my body in this land into an endless limbo that i clutch with my cold, dead hands. my heart is still and i am numb, have been so for a long, long time. i am safe.

you find my corpse on a summer morning and stomp into my home/hell with eyes ablaze and teeth flashing and if i was alive, my heart would’ve seized at the sight. you lug my body to my backyard, unflinching. the sun burns my skin and everything hurts and i want to kick and scream and thrash in your hold because you idiot, you stupid motherfucker, don’t you know the rot sets in faster when life is around?

but dead men don’t scream, don’t move. you drop me on the grass with heaving breaths and all i could do is burn while the cicadas sing of my second demise. then, you start talking.

you tell me about your day and ask me about mine and barrel on when all you’re met with is silence. you tell me of the sky, the wind, and your favourite sundress. you must be insane. out of your fucking mind. don’t you see this rotting vessel of mine? my unseeing gaze and blue lips and cracking skin? don’t you smell the rot, the death? you surely do. then why aren’t you running? no, stop. stop moving closer. you madman, leave me in this wretched place. the warmth of your touch will only make me fester, don’t you see?

but you stay. you tell me how the crisp apple bursts into a delightful sweetness when you sink your teeth into it and pull my head to your lap. you tell me about your mom’s cooking and let my cold seep into your skin. my mouth is sewn shut and you are holding me so gently and i want to scream for mercy, for an ounce of cruelty. give me back my home, you villain. give me back my hell.

ice melts. the heat thaws my flesh and the rot digs into my body with its talons unsheathed and merciless. you pitch a tent next to my body and spend your nights here. night after night, i listen to the lull of your heart and watch the rise and fall of your chest as my body breaks itself down from inside out. i am warm.

and you, stubborn, baffling, ethereal you; you stay. the next day and all the days after that. the stench is getting unbearable now. i can see it in your eyes, in every ragged breath of yours. a corpse will remain a corpse no matter how much it is loved. there are only so many stories you can tell without gagging at the sight of this monstrosity. the sun always sets. stories end. love lives where life does. your kindness never did have a place between my blackened teeth and diseased heart, my dear.

but you come back with a gentle brush of lips against my decaying forehead. your hand cradles my rotten head. my sweet warmth, there you are. won’t you leave?

you won’t, right?

you dig my grave all by yourself. six feet deep, seven feet tall because you want me to be comfortable. what a useless gesture. i learn love feels like the glow of the moon and feather soft touches and a grave dug with bare hands.  you lift me in your arms, careful not to jostle me too much, lest i fall apart. kindness feels like a siren’s lullaby and i can feel my eyes droop. it’s dangerous and so very beautiful.

things are different in my new home. numbness feels so far away. there is life thrumming in my veins and eating away at my flesh. you bring me flowers everyday- chrysanthemums, dandelions and tulips- you tell me they remind you of me. how foolish. how very wonderful.

soon, i will bloom into all the flowers you can dream of from this very earth you laid me in. soon, i will rise, petals unfurling, laugh booming. i will weave myself in your braids and take root in your chest and spread down to the very tips of your fingers. my darling, my sun, my rose; i promise i will find you on a bright summer morning.

[abbythewritor]

"Fairness" OnePiece x Saitama reader, Seven.

"Just a Normal girl looking for an everyday life. At least, if you call sailing across the seas with idiots with useless dreams a simple task, then you might wanna see a doctor. Seriously."

Warnings: Blood, gore, mentions of Leukemia, and heaps amount of blood and strength. It might be a little cursing, but not bad, and maybe some flirting in there, but it's mostly clean.

Other things:

-You didn't get bald due to your powers; you got bald to an extreme illness.

-You part of the straw hat crew, but others are interested in you and your power.

-Everyone that is a male is taller than you.

-Monsters from the OPM world will appear in One Piece, and I'll make some new monsters you will fight.

Enjoy the seventh chapter, everyone :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Fairness, huh?"

The area was tense; the war was still going on as you stared at the marine that was in front of you.

His eyes glared down at you, the cigars in his mouth puffing smoke as if you were fighting.

Your words a little bit ago struck an annoyance in his heart as a smirk formed his lips. "You have a big mouth, kid; what makes you think pirates deserve fairness?"

"Because they're human, just like the rest of us! Yes, they aren't good people in the world, but at least they have room to change instead of being executed for living their lives! No one should have to go through that! God's children deserve to be free!" His head tilted. "God's children? So you're religious? Don't make me laugh, Pirate." I clenched my fist again. "So what if I am?! Why does that bother you?! Aren't pirates not allowed to be religious?!" He sighed. "I'm not saying that. But, what pirates do is out of monstrosity and vulgarness; never seen a pirate in my life that believes in a God." "I'm not a pirate! I just want to help people have a fair second chance at life, just like my God did with me! Now move out of my way!!" I zoomed toward the marine, already close to him, as his eyes widened, forming smoke as my fist went through; my eyes widened with shock. "What the?" He grabbed my wrist, spinning me around and throwing me across the battlefield as I stumbled but slid on my feet.

Close to me, suddenly, I dodged his lines of smoke, and as his face appeared, I used one of his weapons to try and pin me down, but I grabbed one of them, which was close to my eye, and broke it with my hands.

His eyes widened, but attacked me with the same weapon with the other hand, my left easily caught his wrist, throwing him behind me, turning to face him.

Sliding on his feet, his teeth gritted while looking at me as I blankly looked at him. "Are you done using your toys?!" I asked, himself bolting forward, his hands forming into smoke as he got to me again quickly. I dodged to the left but kept dodging as he was quicker than before, making this fight more annoying than fun.

He tried to attack me in the air, his smoke allowing himself to try and spin-kick me, as I easily dodged, as he flew to me again, trying to kick my face but I ducked backward, barely avoiding it, as his teeth gritted.

Trying to see what part of his body isn't made of smoke, I punched his stomach when he died down his power, causing him to launch back pretty far.

Zooming to him quickly, he blocked my punch with smoke again, which my hand went through as he got a hold of me and turned me around, his foot slamming to my back as he had me pinned down, my arm behind, his hands grasping a good grip on them. "You strong, Kid, but inexperienced; you must do better than that to stop my devil fruit power."

The position I was in caused my cheeks to rise as I looked behind at his muscular form, his daring eyes looking down at me as he pressed harder, an un-godly inappropriate moan escaping my mouth as His eyes widened, a blush to his cheeks as he was confused on why I made that noise.

But he let his guard down, and I smirked, able to use my speed to get out of his hold, zooming at him as I was about to punch him from behind, in slow motion as he turned.

His eyes widened as I was a dark black, as it was like a blink of an eye when my fist went towards him, stopping just in front of his face, as a large gust of wind blew at him.

The force of the wind causes everyone on the battlefield to feel it, but they ignore it and keep fighting.

Once the wind stopped, his eyes widened to see I didn't punch him, as I gave him a small smile. "Well, sorry for letting your guard down; your power is cool, Marine guy; I knew you were expecting me to kill you, but I'm not like that. Like I said, everyone deserves fairness, so let's fight later, K?", I patted his shoulder while soon bolting away, causing his eyes to widen. "OI GET BACK HERE-" He paused when he turned, as the ocean behind him had a massive gap as if the sea was parted like a curtain.

*Pretend it's the ocean :)*

Not believing the gap of the ocean in front of him, his eyes were widened like saucers, as he turned to you running and catching up to Luffy, as that attack you did was nothing new to you at all.

All the bravery that was pent up inside of him left when no one was looking, as his knees hit the floor, his eyes looking at his hands as all of that training he did, all the preparation to be a marine, didn't matter when he faced someone so powerful, who didn't even look like it.

But that compliment you gave him about his power replayed in his head, and that moan you let out made him cough suddenly, his hands going to the floor, his face flushing red.

One of the Marines noticed and ran to him. "SMOKER-SAN!" He yelled, as you heard while running, looking back to him, who was trying to catch his breath as you smiled. 'Your strong smoker, don't use your cocky emotions to get the best of you.' I thought, turning back while continuing to run. 'I hope we will fight someday in the future, but my focus...is to save Ace-" My thoughts were interrupted by an explosion nearby as I turned to see Ivanka fighting the giant robot bear, and my eyes widened at her. "IVANKA!" I yelled as her feet slid, her head whipping up. "Y/n-chan! Go! I'm ok! Kuma! Move out of the way!!" I stopped beside her, looking at the giant man, then at a blonde man beside him. "You know these two?!" I asked as Ivanka sighed. "Kuma, yes, but he's not the same; he's acting strange, and the blonde one....." The blonde male chuckled, staring us two down with his sunglasses. "Seems you had recent interactions with Kuma..." He spoke to Ivanka and then pointed to Kuma. "But the Kuma you knew and this one aren't the same!!" I needed clarification on his statement. 'Not the same..? So...this guy wasn't like this before?' I thought this guy didn't look human; he looked dead than breathing.

"YOUR LYING! I BELIEVE THIS IS THE EATER OF THE PAW PAW FRUIT! ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING KUMA?!" He didn't answer as her teeth gritted with anger. "H-he's pissing me off!! Although he has always been quiet!!" The blonde male glared at us again. "I told you that it's no use talking to him." I looked at the man. "Why not?" Your question made him look to you personally as his devilish smile grew, his tongue licking his lips. "Never thought I'd see a day where a cute girl like yourself could fight, especially with your size." Scoffing, my arms crossed. "Don't change the subject!" His head tilted, still smiling. "Oh? Why? I'm not allowed to talk to a cute girl like yourself-" "You obviously know something that happened to this Kuma person, so don't change the subject more and tell us what happened.." I firmly stated, which made him let out another laugh. "And what's the fun of that? I already told Ivanka here he's dead..." I was more confused. "Dead? But he's-" I finally realized something when I looked into Kuma's eyes, which had a hew-like glass.

GLASS?! Wait a minute...it all makes sense....because this Kuma isn't human at all.... It's A ROBOT!!

"Holy shit..." I spoke. "H-He's a robot.." Doflamingo laughed menacingly. "You are correct, firecracker. He Volunteered to be a part of the world government's guinipig....to build a humanized weapon, which is Kuma himself....first they did his legs...his arms....his torso...then...boom....he was brain dead." His evil chuckle made your fist clench as the government turned this used-to-be human into something man-made, as Kuma could have had a life; it's hard to believe that he wanted to become this. "But, I don't know what kind of deal he had with the government." He turned, walking away, towards a pile of bodies, which he sat right on top of, his leg on top of another, as he dug into his ear. "Only a few days ago, he still had his personality. But now, he doesn't even remember that he was born human, so he is no better than dead. He is a monster who fights as the Government tells him. He's Pasfifix 3-0!" Soon enough, the robot charged a laser toward us again, causing me to instantly duck; our eyes widened, as the same explosion that came out of Kizaru happened in the distance. As my eyes widened, Doflamingo was still holding his sadistic smirk.

As Ivanka raged out her anger, she charged at him, telling us to move forward, as I didn't want to leave her with this kind of emotion.

But, she turned, reassuring me that she'd be fine, as I sighed, bending and bolting.

As I ran, time slowed, as Doflamingo and I locked eyes, and he spoke something to me. "Watch out, cutie.....because many people on this battlefield have their eyes on you...." He let out a sadistic laugh, my heart racing when he licked his lips as I continued forward, his words affecting me slightly as I went to catch up with Luffy, who was way ahead of me.

Many of Ivanka ally's came with me, as we caught up to him, us heading more to the scaffold Ace was on.

Me and Luffy could power through marines easily, spreading them like explosions, scattering them like flies.

We were so close to the next area, and my heart raced with determination as I turned to Luffy. "We're getting closer, Luffy don't give up!" He turned to me, nodding. "Yeah! Let's continue forward, everyone!" They all yelled with agreement, as my eyes noticed something off in the distance.

A handsome man was seen in the smoke before us as I suddenly stopped. "EVERYONE WAIT!" I yelled as some of Ivanka's crew got sliced up with one stroke easily. I Luffy's eyes widened when they all plopped to the floor.

When the man became more clear, Luffy's eyes widened as Mihawk was in front of us, my face turning pink with how handsome he was, and how fully his chest and abs were exposed.

He looked so cool, his face severe and blank, his cloak blowing with the wind, as the sword he got out from his back was immense, shaped like a cross as it shined in the battlefield light. "Now, I wonder..." He spoke, his voice a mix of sass and huskiness, as he stared at us. "If fate decides to end the life of a child and strong women of the next generation here...though I hate to admit it to you, darling, your outfit is quite unique, I do like it." He looked at me now, as my heart raced with the color of my black and red outfit, just my Pajams I was fighting the monster with before I came here.'Why is he calling me darling..? He doesn't even know me?' I thought, but I liked it; I didn't want to seem rude to the man in our way, as a nervous smile planted on my lips. "A-Ah, thank you, you look cool yourself." I saw a small yet noticeable smile to me tug his lips. "Thank you, now to not make things...boring, I shall discuss matters at fourth, I won't let you two get past me....and since you seem stronger than young rabbits, I'll give you the privilege to be killed with Yohru..." He gripped the large swords tighter, and I felt excited, as this man seemed strong.

I turned to Luffy. "Luffy, go ahead, I'll fight this guy." His eyes widened. "N-No! This guy, you need to learn what he's capable of! My friend Zoro fought this guy! He almost died! Mihawk is the greatest swordsman on earth; if you fight him, you'll be dead-" I let out a chuckle, stopping Luffy's words as he was confused by my sudden cackle as I looked at Mihawk with a wild smirk. "Greatest swordsman, huh? Well, I guess I can't see him bear-handed now, huh? I'll be fine, Luffy; get to your brother." I picked up a simple metal pipe on the ground as Luffy understood my strength, and he smiled. "Right, be safe!" He soon left; as I sat back up, I flipped the pipe in my hands, and one of Mihawk's eyebrows rose. "A pipe? Darling, are you stupid?" I smirked more. "Maybe I am, but if Luffy says you are the greatest swordsman here...then..." My eyes glared up at him eagerly, my smirk never closing. "How could I pass up the offer to fight you?" Something with my cocky standards struck his heart, as excitement also flew through his veins, which made him smile. "Let's see how long you can last in this fight... a little rabbit." With that, I disappeared before his eyes. His eyes widened slightly as I was behind him, about to stick the back of his neck with the pipe, but he quickly sensed me as his sword and the metal clashed together, a large gust blasting out of us. Guessing he would predict that, I slid back on my feet, charging at him; as I began to attack, he blocked, as I performed many different sword combos, nothing like he'd ever seen.

As we kept clashing together, moving faster than the speed of light itself, the marines or pirates could keep up with our pace. as I hopped on many different kinds of pillars, flipping, as I was about to strike down on him with my pipe, before Yohru went above his head, preventing him from me striking. Our eyes locked, faces close to each other. "Those are some fighting skills little rabbit..." He spoke sassily, a tiny smirk forming his lips as I smirked back. "Guilty as charge, your not the only one with amazing sword training!" Pushing Yorhu and him down, I landed with a flip, my head whipping back up to him, as he was about to attack me again, until I blocked Yohru with my pipe again, as the sword was rather amost touching the tip of my nose.

Gritting my teeth, I used all my strength to push the sword off, causing Mihawk to loose his balance before my foot slammed right into his stomach, not to hard to not kill him, as he stumbled far back.

Sliding, he dug Yohru into the ground to catch him from going far, as he glanced up, some people holding shocked faces.

"S-She was able to hit Mihawk!"

"How?! He doesn't let any enemy pass him with Yohru! It's incredible to see him bleeding!!"

"It goes to show how strong this chick is, look! She's just holding a metal pipe!"

As the whispers and words grew, Mihawk's free hand slowly went to his lips, wiping the slight blood coming from his mouth, as he let out a chuckle, standing up while retrieving Yohru from the ground. "You managed to get a hit on me, little rabbit...but don't think that will save mercy for you!!" He bolted to me again, quicker, as my eyes widened, Yohru suddenly striking me, nocking me quite far back.

Luffy's eyes widened with shock. "Y/N!!!" He yelled, as I slammed into the wall, creating a large indent.

But, as people seemed for me to be dead, I was perfectly fine, as all the marks that were on me was dirt, which made their eyes widened when I got myself out of the hole, as I began to cough and catch my breath.

As my eyes glanced up, Mihawk was slowly walking to my, flipping Yohru easily with his hand. "You may have experience with sword fighting, little rabbit, but your demeanor, defense and attacks are still new, but I respect your bravery." I chuckled, getting up to my feet. "That's an honor...but don't think your words will change this fight..." He smirked more. "Oh no, it doesn't, so why don't you show me how powerful you are..." His words got me excited as he got in stance, as I did as well, as we bolted to each other, landing a super powerful blow, as our weapons clashed, the ground soon shaking.

Both going off each other, we went at a quick speed, attacking each other at different angels, none of us allowing each other to land a single blow, as from the clashes of our swords became quicker, faster and stronger, the wind grew more, causing everyone on the battle field to struggle to stand, even the Admirals.

As I slammed onto the floor, I dodged left, avoiding Yohru, as I dodged right, avoiding the sword again, until I clasped the blade with my hands, as the tip almost went to my eye, as I was able to crack it, as Mihawk eyes widened, as I chuckled while looking up at him. I knew this sword meant well to him, as I didn't want to destroy it.

Instead, I died down my strength, throwing the sword, and Mihawk at a great distance, as the man landed on his feet, but instead of his blank demeanour, it was shock, as he looked to Yohru who had a visible crack on the blade. 'No one has been able to crack Yohru...so...how..did she...'

This made his heart race, as he looked to me, walking to him, as my face was serious. "You may have a sharp stick, swordsman...but to me, those things are ineffective..." Stopping just a few feet from him, a dark aroama formed around me, powerful than anything he's ever seen. "If you want to keep fighting me, then fine...but, if you think a sword of yours will decide the fate of peoples future, then that's idiotic, and calling of false prophecy..." Mihawk chuckled. "False prophecy? What are you a mentalist?" I shook my head. "No, but, I know the truth, and to think you believe fate will end with Ace's blood on the floor is terrible, Ace didn't do anything wrong, he was just living his life." "And you think Pirates killing innocent people is considered living their lives?" My fist clenched. "i don't think anyone killing anybody is fair, even if some do deserve it, but Ace didn't he didn't even kill anybody. He was just seeking revenge to a crew member that did share a fate, by a pirate who does deserve to be killed. Let me ask you a question, why do you wear that cross? What does that thing symbolize to you?" Your question made him shrug. "It looks unique, it's a symbol of strength and peace-" "Then why do you wear it, thinking Pirates deserve to die when you don't know the true cause?! Do you think that symbol is meant for fear or your opponents, or do you see yourself as a higher power? Because let me tell you something buddy, if you mock the true meaning behind that necklace of yours, then your fate prophecy's are at shit, because there is no such thing as fate....." Mihawk's head tilted with confusion, not understanding your anger. "Then what exists, little rabbit? Why do you defend the problems that are infesting this world, when you don't know anything about them neither? Is it, because you believe in a higher power, I assume?" "It doesn't matter if there's pirates, Marines, or just regular people, if people are in act of sinning against the true meanings of life, no matter how the upper power sees it, everyone will be punished by their actions, no matter how kind anyone sees themselves as...so what if I believe in a higher power, stronger and bigger than anyone else, I'd rather die knowing where I'd be, rather than not knowing if I will live or suffered for eternity. So you have no...NO RIGHT!! TO WEAR THAT NECKLACE!" I snapped to him, my voice booming out of anger again, which made him chuckle. "So you are religious, it makes you quite cute, but, what if your God, your Massiah, the prophets written in the book, are all false? What if I kill you now, little rabbit, to let you see where you end up?" He held up Yohru to the sky, as my teeth gritted from his words a bright blue energy surrounding his sword, as he slashed it down, a large amount of large energy coming out in a line, heading to me.

I didn't move, as anger from his words came through me, as I bolted to the light, my hand going out in front of me, as it was supposed to slash me, but instead, the light went around me,spreading out as I blocked it easily.

It was like a huge wall of energy, the size of the wall of china, as little old me was right in the middle, not a scratch on me what so ever.

As the blast died down, all that Mihawk saw of me was smoke coming off my hands, my head tilting. "What was that?" His eyes widened with shock. "Was that supposed to kill me? Man, I thought you were the strongest swordsman in the world." I blankly stated, causing a drip of sweat to fall on his face. 'S-She blocked that...with no problem...that attack could slice through a whole mountain, and there is not a scratch on little rabbit at all!' Putting the hand Yohru was in down, his teeth gritted with annoyance and defeat, as he underestimated my power again.

As my head tilted more, my eyes slightly widened with shock as he knelt in front of me, as if I was going to finish the fight. "Well done, little Rabbit...your strength surpasses me...now you can do your worst..." My eyes widened with shock, as I realised what he was expecting, he was thinking that I needed to kill him, because of this duel.

His actions caused me to sigh, as I walked closer. "Stand up." He was shocked with my words, as he looked up at me, too see my hand to him. I was smiling gently, my wig to seemingly be off as he was shocked, my beauty shining in with the little light left that was poking through the smoke of the battlefield, his heart racing. "Your strong." I stated, smiling wilder. "I was lucky enough to fight someone with the same amount of strength, don't think our tie means that I should kill you, we're all still technically human here, we should learn from our defeats and grow stronger." Not saying anything, my words made Mihawk to smile, his hands grabbing my own as I helped him up. As he was incredible taller than me, which slightly made my heart race, he gently grasped my hands, looking down at my eyes with full respect. "You are quite right, little rabbit, your God seems quite determined to keep you alive, I apologized if I angered you in any sort of way." I giggled. "Angered me? Well, the things you said made me a little imitated, but that's a lesson learned right? Respect other peoples beliefs, it's what makes the world a better place, right?" He nodded. "Yes, you are right." I smile more. "good! Glad we are in agreement, now I think you have changed your aspect on which side you are on, so are you going to let me pass and rescue Ace? Or are you going to be a stuck up and be on the marines side still?" He chuckled from my words. "I say little rabbit, to be truthful, I usually work alone, but, the marines offered me a position that my mind then couldn't pass down, but now, that you defeated me, showed me that neither sides matter, I tend to fight on my own terms. So, to answer your question more little rabbit, out of respect, I won't attack you, but it won't stop me from attacking your allies from getting to Ace." I respected that Answer, as I acted without thinking, as I hugged him which made him freeze. "Thank you!" I stated happily, as I pulled away. "Your a good person sir, and I know your skills will be needed for this world!" Your compliments made his heart warm, as he smiled gently to you. "Thank you little Rabbit, go now, before I change my mind." I nod, and bowed with respect, as I ran passed him, continuing with my path to Ace, as Marines were shocked with his actions, not believing how quickly he switched sides, as they went after me, about to shoot me until Mihawk simply gazed to them, slicing the Marines in a blink of an eye before they could pull the trigger, as his gaze turned back to his harsh form. Other marines were scared, looking to him, as he clutched Yohru more with his hands. "Don't be idiotic thinking I'd let you face her, just be lucky that you'll be taken down by me instead." Gritting their teeth, the soldiers charged to him, as I was smiling while looking back at him, knowing that I made a new ally.

Looking forwards, I ran faster, determined to save ace more, as my eyes glanced in front of me. 'Don't worry Ace, I might not think Fate is real....but...'

'Myself, or the higher power won't let you die, that's a promise!!'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author: WHEW! Another chapter done! Man, I feel like this sucked more than the other ones, I love Mihawk, so writing this chapter was really fun. The fighting styles might of not been good, but I hope you enjoyed it at least.

[asmutwriter]

You Saved Me (Part 18)

DESCRIPTION: (Season 14) Its been weeks since Michael came to visit you. And with no news from Sam you surely weren't expecting to see Dean when you turned up back at home.

A/N This chapter is strongly influenced by Deans dream S14E10. I like to think this happened and he enjoyed the idea so much that him/Michael made that dream happen.

WORD COUNT: 4793

From Beginning / Previous / Next / Master List  

WARNINGS: swearing, drinking, bar owner, talk of death, talk of Dean!Michael, light angst in the middle, mainly fluff, pet name (handsome)

DISCLAIMERS

- This is fiction. Please always talk to your partner before doing anything and make sure they are ok with what you are doing beforehand

It had been a few weeks since your encounter with Michael. Since you rang Sam. And everyday you checked your phone. Waiting for that phone call or text message. Letting you know that Dean was ok. That his brother had found him.

Today was different. Your phone had died overnight and your charger didn't work in the car. No one had a spare wire to charge up your phone. With the little battery you had in the morning you texted Anna. Telling her that if she needed anything to ring her work and not her mobile. Turning your phone off so that if you did need it for an emergency then you would at least have some battery left.

This is how you missed that phone call from Sam. The text message later that day from Anna. Driving back home you listen to the radio. Pulling up to your home you see your eldest daughters familiar small blue car in the drive. Pulling up next to it as your eyes get drawn to the other familiar car. A 1967 Chevy impala sat comfortably next to your daughters car. 

You go into the glove compartment. Taking out a pair of knuckle dusters and carefully placing them onto your fingers. You'd done some research. Finding out as much as you could about angels. Managing to find a mislaid angel blade. Melting it down and turning it into a knuckle of your weapon. Getting out of the car and locking it. Your adorned hand now resting inside your hoodie pocket. Going and opening the front door. Heading upstairs to your small home you share with your family.

"Anna? Lydia?" you call out. Expecting the worst. 

"Kitchen!" you hear one of the girls call out. You wonder down the corridor. Seeing Lydia sat on the counter top. Anna and Dean making some sort of hazardous looking mixture in a bowl. 

"Everything ok in here?" you ask. Scanning over the situation as best and subtly as you could.

"Dean has never baked before. I was cooking so I decided to teach him" Anna says. The green eyed man looks at you. An apologetic smile on his face.

"I hope you don't mind me dropping in. I did try and ring but the call didn't go through" you shake your head. 

"My phone has been off". He motions at your eldest daughter.

"Anna said that your phone had probably died". You nod slowly. "Are you ok?". His eyes grow concerned as he looks at your nervous demeanour. 

"Yes. Yes. Sorry. Been a stressful day at work". You half smile. Looking at him. Those familiar light eyes comforting you. Whatever concern you had quickly fades as you deem that he is human. Pushing the knuckles off of your fingers as you smile fuller. "What monstrosity have you started making then?" You look at the concoction of a mess they have made in the glass baking bowl.

"They're meant to be Halloween themed cupcakes. But we didn't have any red food dye so we improvised". You look at the brown sludge in the bowl. "I never said that our improvise worked"

"Hey" Dean says. Looking at her. An unsure smile on his face as she tilts her eyes up to his. "I think it still has potential to be great". She laughs. 

"What did you improvise with?" Your voice a higher pitch as you question the cooking skills of them.

"Well" Anna clasps her hands together as she looks at the mixture. "we had some pink food dye and we figured that to make red into pink you add white. So making pink into red you add black". You nod. A soft chuckle escaping your lips. "And now we have this mess". You go over to the drawer. Taking out some baking trays and cupcake cases.

"Put some of the mixture into these. Fill them up about two thirds of the way up". You say. Grabbing out four big spoons. Handing one to each of the people. Even though Lydia refuses to get involved she still takes the spoon from you. Shutting the drawer with your hip before you start splitting the mixture between the different cases.

Putting them into the oven. You go into a cupboard. Taking out a bar of white chocolate. Then grabbing out a saucepan and glass bowl. Filling the pan with water and placing it onto the stove. The glass bowl in the middle as you turn the gas on. Breaking up the white chocolate into the bowl. Taking a wooden spoon as you start to stir.

"Do we have any left over pink?". Anna nods. Going to the work station she was at. Wiggling her fingers as she tries to locate the item. Giving a small 'aha' when she finds it. Coming back over with the item. You add a few drops. Making the melted chocolate go a shade of pink. "There is a bar of milk chocolate in the cupboard" you point with the non stirring hand. Dean goes over. Opening it. He takes a minute to take in all the various sweets and snacks in the cupboard. Quickly shaking himself out of it as he grabs the bar. Handing  it to you. "Now-" you speak as you open the packet. Taking out a couple of squares. "It wont be the main cake but we can drizzle it on top. Try and make it look like blood splatter or something. The brown should mix with the pink and give us a nice red colour"

"I told you that adding black would be too dark!" Lydia says. Teasingly pushing her sisters shoulder.

"But you one; didn't stop me. And two; didn't tell me what to add instead of black"

"Your older. You should've known this". Giving a soft smile as you diffuse the situation.

"Ok girls. Come on. No arguing in front of our guest". They glare at each other. Giving a soft huff in response to your words. You try not to laugh. Smiling at their behaviour as you look at the green eyed man. "I apoligise for my children's behaviour". He shakes his head. Meeting your smile with his own.

"Nothing to be sorry for. Me and my brother are the exact same". You place you hand on your chest. Looking at him.

"And I have the joy of being an only child" you smile at him. Blinking softly as he laughs. Bringing your hand to rest onto your hip. "I assume the girls have invited you to stay round for food tonight?". He nods. Licking his tongue over his lips as he smiles.

"Shoot I forgot to tell you" Anna says. You draw your attention to her. A small tint of a smile on your lips as you look at her. "Mum?"

"Yes?"

"Can Dean stay for dinner tonight?"

"Of course" you smile fuller. Looking back at Dean. 

"What film do you want to watch?" your eldest daughter looks at him. He lets out a puff of air. Tilting his head to the side as he looks at her.

"What films have you got?" She takes his wrist. Dragging him to the living room. He lets out a whistle as he sees the head to toe stacked DVDs. You follow after turning the heat for the chocolate mixture down. Lydia jumping down from the counter top as she also pursues. Anna motions at the stacks of movies.

"Any of these. We do have some horror which would be fitting given the spooky season" He nods slowly. Eyes scanning over the various movies. He looks at a couple of classics. 'Sixth Sense', 'The Others', 'Conjuring', and a few more.

"I've heard good things about this film" he gently taps the spine of a DVD. You tilt your head. Giving a soft chuckle at the diversity from the films he was previously looking at. 'The Greatest Showman'. Anna nods. 

"Its a very good movie. Great cast of characters. Wonderful choreography and singing". He nods. Giving a soft chuckle as he picks out one of the films.

"This film as a classic!" He holds it up. A prominent joy in his voice. 'Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid'. Anna and Lydia both shake their heads. "You don't like it?" he almost sounds hurt at the words. 

"Never seen it" they admit. You bite your bottom lip as Dean looks flabbergasted. His mouth slightly agape as he looks at them. Turning to face you. 

"Tell me you've seen it". His voice filled with horror and shock. You shake your head slightly. "No? Really?"

"Its just never been one Iv'e had time to watch. I always meant to"

"Everyone go and sit your butts down. Now. W are watching this damn movie. Anna" he holds the disc case towards her "Can you put it in please?" she gives a small laugh. Taking the case from him and going over to the DVD player. 

"Let me start cooking dinner ok? Give me five minutes and Ill be in". You go to the kitchen. Taking out the forgotten cakes. Lightly drizzling the melted chocolate over the top. Putting a couple of oven pizzas in as well as some chips. Going back into the living room. The girls sit on one sofa. Dean sat on the other. You go and sit next to the Winchester. Bringing your legs up onto the sofa as you sit them under you.

“Ok. Everyone is here. Start the movie” he says. A soft chuckle escaping your lips. Resting your elbow on the back of the sofa. Placing your chin into the palm of your hand as you put your undivided attention to the movie. Anna pausing it when you go and grab out the food from the oven. But for the most part it’s completely uninterrupted. Mainly because every time you try and speak over the movie Dean shushes you. Arguably that causes you to want to complain more but you refrain from doing as such.

Soon it has your full attention. The final scene comes and goes. End credits start to scroll over the screen. Anna pauses the movie. Dean smiles at the three of you. “Well?”

“It’s good” Anna says. You and Lydia nod in agreement. Giving it heavy compliments.

“You said it was based on truth right?” You querie. He nods. "Goodness". His face unable to help the smile over it as you all praise the movie. Your eyes glance to the clock on the wall. “Where did the time go?” Lydia looks at the clock on the wall.

“It’s ok mum. It’s Friday today so it doesn’t matter if we go to bed later then usual”

“Of course!” you shake your head. A soft laugh coming from your lips. “Sorry. It feels like a Sunday today”. 

She nods and smiles at you. “Having said that. I’m knackered” she stands up. Stretching her arms above her head. “Are you staying the night Dean?” He looks at her. Eyes glancing towards you briefly.

“I’m not sure yet”

“You’re welcome too. I’ve got a spare room that you can stay in. Be the first guest in there in fact” he chuckles softly. 

“So long as your sure?” He looks at you. You nod. Smiling at him.

“Of course”

“Yes then” he looks back at the youngest daughter. She nods and smiles. 

“I won’t say goodbye properly then as I’ll see you in the morning” she comes over to you. Hugging you. “See you tomorrow” you kiss the side of her head.

“Goodnight” she stands up tall. Heading up the stairs. Anna also wishes you both a goodnight. You know full well that neither of them are going to sleep and will likely be up internet scrolling until 3am. But you let it slide. It is Friday after all.

That leaves you and Dean in the living room. You look at him. Meeting his green eyes. “How have you been?” He gives a soft scoff. 

“I’m great. Never been better” undertones of sarcasm lace his voice. Your brow twitches slightly.

“Dean” he looks at you. A comforting smile over his lips. “I know when you’re lying”

“I’m fine. Honestly. It’s just…” he pauses. Drawing his tongue over his bottom lip as he turns his head downwards. No longer looking at you. “I’ve had a pretty hectic life the past few weeks”

“Because of Michael?” You whisper the name. He jolts slightly at the mention. Looking back at you. Querying how you know. “I spoke to Sam. He told me what happened”. Nodding in response. 

“Anna said something to me earlier”. You glance to him. Giving a soft ‘hmm’ in response. “She told me that I’d been round only a couple of weeks ago”. You bring you bottom lip between your teeth. Looking away from him. "Fuck" he mutters. His eyes retreating as he shakes his head slightly. "I didn't- he didn't hurt you, right? Or the girls?". You think for a moment. Too long, you realise. "Shit are you ok?" He goes closer to you. His hands going to your arms as he almost holds you in place. Looking at him as his eyes fill with fear and concern. His body turned towards you on the sofa.

"No. Yes. Sorry. Yes we are ok. Me and the girls are fine. We're all fine". He watches you. His eyes staring into yours. You softly smile at him. Bringing your hands up as you cup his face between them. The light stubble scratching your palms. "We are fine Dean". He stays like this for a minute longer before dropping your arms. Wrapping them around you as he hugs you. You hesitate for a second. Bringing your hands up. Resting them onto his back. Scrunching the fabric as you pull him close to you. One hand remains on your lower spine. The other travelling upwards and resting into your hair. 

"I am so sorry Kat". You shake your head. Hiding your face into his chest. He kisses the bunch of hair on top of your head. The affection drawing you into him more.

“It doesn’t matter now though. You’re no longer him. We’re safe”. You feel him hesitate. Though you cant see his features you feel his body tense.

“He’s not dead. He’s still in our world. He’s just no longer possessing me”

“He’s- he’s still alive?” He nods. Taking in a breath through his nose. Moving so he can see your face. Still holding your arms as he watches you.

“What did he want?” You shake your head slightly. “Kat. Tell me. I need to know everything he said to you”

“He said he was building an army and he wanted me to join him”. He frowns slightly. Cocking his head as he looks at you.

“Why would he want you?”

“Thanks Dean” you speak in a slightly hurt tone but the notion of trying to lighten the atmosphere. He shakes his head. Dropping your arms as he turns away from you. Resting his forearms onto his knees. His head tilting towards you but his eyes remain down.

“It doesn’t make sense. You are human. You’re not even a hunter. Not an active one anyway”. You remain silent. Tilting your head as you look down.

“He… he told me things. Things about myself that I didn't realise. I’m-“ you shake your head slightly. Looking upwards as you speak. “I’m not human. Not technically”. He pauses a moment.

“What does that mean?”

“He thinks that when my mum did a deal with a demon they plucked a soul from hell and planted it into my body when she conceived”. You scratch the back of your head. “Although my flesh is unique I am just a reused soul. That’s why I can’t die from natural reasons. My soul is already dead”

“That’s why you can’t die?” You nod

“It explains why I have been medically declared dead on several occasions but come back only a few minutes later”

“He wanted an immortal on his side”. He whispers. You take in a breath. Nodding in agreement. You fiddle with the sleeve of your hoodie. He notices your behaviour shift to a more defensive one. "You said that you spoke to Sam?"

"Yeah. A short but brief conversation but yes"

“Did he tell you he’s invited a bunch of strangers to live in our home?” You shake your head. Furrowing your brow as you look at him. His mouth tinges a smile. A small laugh coming out as he looks back down. “Yeah well… they’re nice enough. But I don’t know them. And they’re all just… there”

“Is that why you came here?”

“I just needed a bit of normality” he speaks. Can’t tell if it was towards you or himself. You take in a breath.

“Come on” you say. Hitting your hand onto his knee as you stand up. Holding a hand out. He gives you a confused look. “You want normality. Come and help me clean the kitchen” he chuckles softly.

“I said normality. Not chores” you take his hand. Pulling him up.

“Stop complaining” you keep a hold of his hand. Taking it with both hands as you walk to the kitchen. Letting him go as you open the dishwasher. “You do the mugs” you point to a cupboard “they live there. I’ll do the more complicated bits”

“Did you give me the mugs because this load-“ he motions at the machine “is only filled with mugs?”. You smile at him. Wiggling your eyebrows.

“Maybe” he chuckles. Shaking his head as he picks up some of the cups. Starting to place them into the cabinet. You grab the thing of cutlery. Taking it over to the drawer and filling it up.

Once you’ve both unloaded you start filling it up again. He grabs the plates from the living room. Bringing them out and place by then in. You thank him. Smiling softly at him as you continue to fill it up. “I’m hoping to open up the bar downstairs in the next couple of months. Just waiting for the license to sell liquor. Once I have it then I’m open for business”. He looks at you. A smile coming over his lips. He leans against the cabinet side. Folding his arms over himself.

“That is brilliant news”. Feeling his eyes on you.

"I'm very excited for it" you grin. "I've never owned anything really. I've only ever rented homes. Worked under a boss. But now-" you spread your hands out. Smiling at him as you hold two dirty mugs. One in each hand. "all this is mine." You raise the glasses. "these are mine. Thar weird smell downstairs. That's mine" you place the mugs in the machine. Shutting it as you point to the lampshade dangling in the middle of the room. "That ugly ass light that's rusted to the ceiling". You point at your chest. "Mine". He laughs. Scratching his jaw as he nods. Looking downwards.

"I felt the same when I moved into my place. Never had anywhere to call home. But now- Well I now look at the tacky books and think 'this is my home'". You smile. Going and rinsing your hands before going to the fridge. Taking out two beers. Handing one to him.

"Its thrilling isn't it?" you place a hand on the counter top side. Pushing yourself up so you sit on it. In the curve of the kitchen so you can still see Dean. Him being just the other side of the dishwasher from you. "Being able to own stuff. Actually having something to call your own". You undo the bottle lid. Tossing the metal cap into the sink. Placing the cold beverage to your lips as you take a mouthful.

"You know I've never had my own bedroom. Not before becoming an adult anyway" Removing the lid off his drink.

"Really?" he shakes his head. Taking a sip of his beer.

"We used to rent out motels when I was younger. Never had an actual home. Not until we found the bunker". You go to speak your sympathy but he shakes his head. Bringing a hand up in an effort to quiet you. "It was a long time ago. I don't need pity for it". You nod. Taking a mouthful of your drink. Bringing the bottle back down.

"Do you want to see what I've done with the place? The bar that is"

"Yes". He replies with zero hesitation. Excitement in his voice. Causing you to let out a soft laugh as you jump down from the counter.

"Follow". You speak. Heading to the front door. You grab the keys from the key rack. Opening the front door you motion for him to leave first. He thanks you. Walking down the stairs. Shutting the house door behind you as you follow. Getting to the doors of your bar. Taking your keys and unlocking it. Pushing the door open. Going in first as you hold the door open for him. He goes inside. Looking around. You reach round the corner. Turning the lights on. He lets out a whistle.

"Holy hell" he says. His face beaming as he looks around. You take the keys out the door. Shutting it as you chuck them into your pocket. Folding your arms over yourself. A smile coming over your face. "This must've taken you ages to do". You nod. Running your tongue over your lips.

"Its taken a few months. Thankfully I'm a handy woman so did most of the technical parts myself. Or I have friends in high places who did it for cheap" you smile. Taking a sip of your drink. He walks over to the bar. Resting his bottle on top of it. Running his hands along the top. "You can go behind the counter if you'd like". He looks at you. You can see a smile threatening his lips. "I know you want to". He grins. Giving a soft laugh as he walks over to the bar flap. Lifting it up as he goes in. You lean against a table. Watching as he smiles like a kid in a sweet shop. An obvious joy in his walk.

"This is awesome" he says. A smile in his voice as he looks at all the things. Turning to admire the different alcohol choices. Seeing an archway. He goes over. Looking inside. "Kitchen?" he questions. You nod. Folding your arms over yourself. Taking anther sip of your beer. Resting the bottle into the crook of your arm as you watch him. "This is really cool Kathrine. Makes me want my own place" you chuckle softly.

"Whats stopping you?" He gives a soft pfft. Shaking his head as he looks downwards.

"I can't. Not really" You watch him. Giving a small nod.

"Shame" He looks back up at you. You smile at him. "I'd have liked the competition". He chuckles softly. Shaking his head as he picks up his drink again. Swigging it. You stand up. No longer leaning against the table. "We should go back upstairs". You go over to the bar flap. Lifting it up. "Come on handsome". He half smiles at the pet name. Chuckling softly. Going upstairs. You turn off the light and lock the bar door behind you. Going upstairs as you then lock your house door.

"I'll show you the guest room". You walk down the hallway a little bit. Opening a door. Turning on the light. A neatly made bed one side of the room. Boxes and other knick knacks the other. "I apoligise about the clutter". He shakes his head.

"Its still cleaner then most places I've stayed at". You smile at him. Going into the room. Kicking his shoes off and placing them in an untidy pile by the bed. You lean against the door frame.

"I'm just across the hall. If you need anything just holler". He nods. Turning to face you. "Goodnight Dean"

"Night Kat". You lean forward. Taking the door handle as you pull it shut.

You wake to the sound of gentle laughter coming from the kitchen. A soft grumble coming from your lips as you stretch awake. Plodding out into the kitchen. Dean and Anna sitting at the dining table. Cereal bowls in front of them both as they chat and laugh away. They both look at you. Anna smiles.

"Morning mum". Dean glances at your donut pyjama bottoms and cat wearing sunglasses tshirt.

"Nice peejays". You shake your head. Bringing a hand up to your lips.

"shh. Too early to process comeback". He gives a chuckle. Smiling as he watches you go over to the coffee machine.

"sleep well?" your daughter asks. You give a small nod. Pouring yourself a cup full of the liquid before plodding over to the table. Pulling out the chair next to Dean as you sit down.

"Why are you both up so early?"

"Because its a beautiful autumn day". You shake your head.

"But its Saturday" your voice filled with disbelief at your daughters statement.

"That doesnt make it any less of a beautiful day" She smiles at you. You shake your head again. A small smile forming on your lips.

“Mad. The both of you" You sip your coffee. "What are the plans for today then?" You place the mug softly onto the dining table.

"Well" Anna speaks. A smile in her voice "I’ve been asked out on a date". You raise your eyebrows.

"Is this the lucky fella you’ve told me about?" she nods. Dean raises a hand slightly.

"Woah. Hang on a minute. You’re going on a date?". She nods. Smiling at him. "Who?"

"His name is Henry. He does sociology and history. He’s equally smart and handsome". She emphasises the word ‘and’. Exaggerating it with her hands as she pushes them into the table. A soft laugh of air coming out of his lips as he looks down. Gently hitting the table with his knuckles.

"He sounds wonderful". She nods and smiles.

"What time is your date?" You questions.

"Hes picking me up at 3. We're going to watch a movie and then he’s taking me out for dinner" You go to speak but she cuts you off. "Don’t worry. I’ve told him I need to be back by 11". You smile. Nodding in approvement.

"Good". You tilt your head slightly. "Thats why you’re up so early isn’t it?" She gives a sheepish chuckle "Couldn’t sleep from the excitment of today?". She nods. Drawing her bottom lip between her teeth as she tilts her head slightly. She looks at you.

"You’re good. You should’ve been a detective and not a pub owner". You laugh. Sipping your drink. Placing the mug down. Hearing a soft ping from Deans phone. He smiles apologetically at you both before taking his electronic out. You turn to face him as he lets out a deep sigh.

"Everything ok?". He glances up at you

"Yes. Sam is just checking in to make sure I’m ok". He pushes his phone back into his pocket. Lightly tapping the table rhythmically with his fingers. "I should be heading back to him. Don’t want him to get worried about me". You nod.

"Are you sure you don’t want to stay for longer?". He shakes his head.

"I shouldn’t be out for too long. He'll only worry otherewise". He smiles at you. Standing up. You stand with him. Anna remains sitting as she smiles widely at him.

"Its been good seeing you” she speaks to him. “You better come back soon. You promised me that you’d show me more of those old western movies" he chuckles and nods. His phone pinging again. You try not to smile. Drawing your lips between your teeth.

"Its been lovely seeing you" he speaks. Coming and hugging you. You grip his shirt tightly as you embrace him. Feeling him kiss the top of your head. You hold him tighter. Pulling him close to you. His phone pings one more time. You both give a laugh. Moving away from each other. "I'll see myself out". He speaks softly. Turning tail. You fold your arms over your torso as you watch him walk down the stretch of hallway and out the front door. The gentle thud of the door closing behind him. You watch sadly at the now empty doorway.

Giving a small sigh as you turn back around. Eyes glancing to his empty bowl on the table. You feel a small sadness fill you. Anna seems to pick up on this as she speaks. "He'll come back to see us mum. He always does". You blink a couple of times. Glancing up at her. Nodding as you force a smile over your features.

Previous / Next

TAGS

@sojuxxi

[ophelian-darling]

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧.

Yandere Dabi x female reader.

Summary: Hell is the other people, yet that doesn't mean to not have a devil to love in the abyss.

TW: Violent thoughts, Possessiveness, Dub-con, Drug & alcohol consumption, Obsession, Onanism.

This is a NSFW piece, Minors DNI.

enjoy ♡

As if the flames of Inferno hadn't devoured enough of him: his flesh went adust and he metamorphosed into an ugly, grotesque replica of a corpse. It was a lord's grace that he managed to survive -that's what would anyone say to him- Yet what was there to rejoice with still?! The reflection of the stained glass on the wall painted a poor excuse of a human- a failed hope of a legend and the dead blues of eyes that used to be chaste. His skin and scars were attached together in a cruel show of monstrosity, a thin line separated the decaying flesh from the unhealable wounds, and nothing in the world can wash away the hatred and rage boiling inside like the devil's pit. Ever since he swore on destroying the world, every hue of an emotion and any glimpse of a feeling had been sewn shut and imprisoned, filling  the Lilies with thorns and drops of blood to shield what was remaining. 

Dabi couldn't bring himself to offer more oblations- The Idol of heroism and honor, that he used to put on a pedestal and bow down ardently for, is now nothing but a scarecrow: a deceiving figure and a cover for the truly vile intentions; the real salvation  of the world was to set it on fire and enliven it to God's innocent Eden, where no snakes or poisoned fruit will crawl inside. The 'league of villains' were the angels of death and the new Azraels of the fallen world, accompanied together to rescue the unfortunate from corruption; there were no dreams or love to live for, as his goal was the new sacred numen.

His so-called colleagues are puppets, just like he is, moved with different threads and for different roles. He couldn't bring himself to develop anything for them, whether it's fellowship, friendship or fraternity. All of them appeared to get along well: a bond was knitting itself more and more everyday as Shigaraki led them to achieve a seemingly similar paradise, gladly taking their places in a chess war and armoured as pawns, and you were no exception. 

Your features conveyed no sensation, as what a devoted villain should show themself. Unlike Toga or Twice, you were silent as a lamb to the slaughter and serene as a deep sea, not disturbed or strangled, like you gave your soul on a silver platter with a peaceful heart. Others sought solace from the dregs of what had the air of a warm feeling provided by you- love and acceptance, just as they were a little loving family, where you alongside Magne, were regarded as the older sisters, and looked as the weak fraction of a home. 

Poison in honey. Clouds of doubt and distrust bedimmed his mind whenever he conjured up your lineaments: the resting lines across your face and the reverent glamor in the color of your eyes- none of what you showed was to be perceived as evil. all of the fallen from grace around him had a revolutionary flame in their gaze, au contraire of your placidly hollowed stare, promising to cast a long illusion of Kafkaesque awes.

To Shigaraki's pleasure, you were his favorite- or more correctly the most tolerable member of the league. a perfect model of obedience you were: you spoke so little and worked so hard, polished the numen of new heroism with blood and gifted it so many sacrifices -sacrifices that were out of pure love, souls and pieces of the useless- With no fear or selfish intentions. Toga mooned over your figure and clinged to your hip. The little blonde was a childish loon and He couldn't endure her most of the time, while you (In addition to managing to remain a decent human being) hit it off and contained her tantrums just as you did with Twice -That psychotic freak-. He hated everyone equally: His family, His comrades and leader, and he wanted to despise you as well; the wall of an unknown sentiment hitting back what his mind wanted him to comprehend. 

You're giving him a sort of hate that he didn't accept nor understand. Why would he feel irritated instead of apathetic at your surface attitude towards him?! Surely he is in no need of baring someone else's hopes -he'd rather carry his own despair alone-  yet he won't swallow down the thought of you thinking of him as a failure, a maggot that devours rotten carcasses or merely a lost cause, he is indeed a lost cause but never an empty noise in the background of your head, or someone that you can ignore so easily. As he watches you patch up Jin, smile sweetly at Atsuhiro's tantalizings, play cards with Shuichi or chat with Himiko about everything and nothing. The virulent wave of an emotion keeps washing at him; playing a series of cruel thoughts and imaginations that were rather sadistic: bashing your head against a wall till the threads of crimson sewed your calm face, burning your flawless skin until it discolored to a vile, pussed red; all to hear your screams and enjoy the melody of your vocal cords as you cried in agony for him to stop. The scenarios of torturing you blessed his nights with vivid dreams: Unlike what his consciousness wanted to see, his psyche animated you and him in cherry blossom reveries, the lost innocence drowning everything in a blissful haze. He remembered the feeling of your touch and the note of your true voice: soft as silk and meek as milk, the sweet fruit of heaven, not poisoned by satan. He recalls more than a time how his nightdreams were a small warm flash of affection at first, then ignited into a fevered kiss before escalating to a carnal feast. The euphoria of uniting with you was unforgettable: kissing and nipping at each inch of you, from your lips and face down to your neck, a lovely odor fragrancing your shoulders, the mellow flesh of your breasts, gently squishing in his palms and the raw pomes of your nipples and their flavor- how he imagined the graze of his teeth and nails on the pure fabric of your skin, the path of his tongue down to your dripping cunt- your nectarous cunt, generously pouring your essence on his tongue as he lapped your flower, savoring every little drop of fluid in every little spot of each petal while your croons and moans composed a midnight chant. Flames blazed in his loins while your core was drenched; him immediately dousing the heat when he entered you roughly. The scenery was utterly perfect: your cries of pleasure and whines at his dandlings and teasing, the purple blooms across your neck and cleavage, and the full mewl of vigor escaping your throat as you finished, his cock spasming so deep inside; cervix opened up and swallowing his seed. The sweet haze filled everything to a bright sweven, bright as the fullest moon in the darkest night, consumed by the clouds and veiled into the dim. He wakes up- hard and frustrated as he palms himself, cussing at the many shapes of your form within his memory. He needed to feel you, now and next to him. 

Dabi would never unfold his fantasies to you. the idea of revealing such a hidden side of him to anyone (let alone you, the person in concern for his nocturnal musings) was embarrassing; the pride and dignity -even as a morally shattered rogue- he built over the years refused to lower over someone and disclose such a vulnerable part of a parlous evildoer. It's his lucky day- the annoying brat of a leader finally made a good decision of teaming you up together. Shigaraki thinks that you're capable of cooling Dabi's heat while he would warm up your apathy, just as fire and ice would balance each other. And of course, he didn't give a single fuck about the mission's success or the plan as much as he did about getting to start something with you, something that'll hopefully develop into what he had in mind. Soon enough, the dreams of your body on him will come to be a reality. 

Good. you aren't scared away or seem to be disgusted at him. you were pretty docile: he didn't have to call you a name or throw a threat at you to pay attention to him. Dabi colors his attempts to coax you with a hue of bitter judgment and cynicism, hoping to elicit a real reaction from the depths of your mind, not that mild bright look of your eyes, sending him a scattered letters and an unknown message: a feeling of opacity, odd serenity that increased his desire to maim you beyond all of the evils a human can imagine. 

His fantasies became even rougher and more detailed. The brightness of blood and sunlight on your face were equally exciting, and his desire to own you for his jollity increased with each time his hand tried to replace the smoothness of your walls, desperately delineating the scene from a third eye: him burying himself in the heat of your core, clutching your arms in a fist, spitting curses and degradations at your cutely fucked face. The idea of you being a cheap whore and a costly mistress at the same time sparked a fire in his mind; corrupting whatever purity you still had and breaking your sanity- wiping that stupid calm face off and putting a bloodied and scared one in a show for him. The visions were so pleasant that his hands wanted nothing but to beat you broken and burn you dead; drag you to his pit of misery. 

Dabi now shows you a fraction of what he can offer of 'Kindness'. Every Time you happen to converse with him, he aims to provoke you by obscene flirtation or direct teasing, which you respond to with a quick comeback or an eyeroll. The more he pushes your buttons, the more your true nature comes to light for him: you're a cruel, doe-eyed disaster, everything ugly and pretty at the same time; he absolutely loves that.

Anger doesn't rise when you throw your words at him: your insults weren't even insults, whether you laced them with poison or honed their edges sharp, they didn't wound as much as they tickled: everything that came out of that pretty little mouth of yours was sweet, too sweet that made him eager to cut your tongue off and watch blood cascade. He wanted to get a devil out of you, as to take it to a hell of his own, where you would both revel in cutting each other to ribbons. 

The inflicted pain loses its ache with time, and melts into a crippling throe, and grows to a deep blue melancholy. it feels to him -and you as well- that you took comfort in hurting him and him hurting you, like breaking a bone to forget a sharp twist of the heart. indulging in banes was a temporary relief as well: cigarettes and Alcohol, pills and remedies weren't enough to release a lingering burden of shame and acrimony. It happened in a moonless night- a bottle of wine dangling lazily from your fingers, your head on his shoulder and your tongue unlacing its knot, through a blur of tears, all of what had been coffined under your skin teared through and emerged into existence: you were just like him- a torn hope for a legend, a replaceable weapon and a losing card. Just when you believed the serpent's lie of power and grace, your superiors took you out of what used to be your home, your heaven and haven; everything was ripped out from your hands overnight, and tears were no longer an antidote. and he listens- he listens to every word you say, dread filling his cogitation as the familiar scenes are played.

"Was I really a failure all along?" He watched you swallow your words with a full gulp, the red in the bottle swinging within it in your shaking grip. Your eyes were distant as always, but in an exciting way- you seemed hopeless, utterly woebegone, the gleam of your eyes absent to where an unknown corner of your head laid.

"The more I think of it, the more my hatred for them grows… but I can't deny that I used to love them… and I still love them!" 

Sobs lost between gulps; the drink wasn't able to pacify your sorrows. He just simply stares at the mess of you, intrigued by both of your tears and subtle determination of revenge. His imagination creates a scene where your form stood, gazing up to a charred horizon, your head turning around, a numb smile crossing its curved line on your face, while your eyes carried a certain violent gentleness. As he watches you wipe the traces of sorrow on your face, Dabi comes to the realization of who you verily were: an embodiment of the darkest depravity in the garments of the purest piety, that you were the serpent and not the sinner. If this life was hell; then you ought to be the devil itself; a reincarnation of Jezebel's deceit, Circe's eyes and Delilah's lulling.

Your fingers twitched and moved, skimming his scarred hand, spiderlike at first, wanting a silent agreement from him to continue, then bold, obscene as you took his silence as an acceptance.

Now he notices how well manicured are your nails and how neat are your digits, coy when they took both of his palms, to downright prurient when you slipped his hands under your shirt to meet your bosom.

"I've seen the way you look at me" you purred, stars of a far nirvana lustering in your eyes, not like you were just weeping. 

You squeezed his hands, encouraging him to fondle on the soft flesh on your chest, which he did, immediate and eager as he was whenever he recalled that dream.

"You seemed like you wanted to hurt me terribly… and just to let you know, being hurt by you isn't a very awful thought… it's…" you giggled like a vamp "Sexy…" 

He felt like an overflowed dam. just as you let the final words, he planted a forceful kiss to your lips, relishing the taste of ale on your tongue. you moaned into his mouth, arms on his shoulders welcoming him for sin.

The bottle rolled to an unknown corner of the room, its content missing than a few drops. All it took to loosen your composure was a hundredth night of drinking and a tipsy talk. To him, none of the Alcohol was as much of an intoxication as the feeling of you, far more rapturous and surreal than the vistas of violence and vigor he visualized in the dead of the night. Time lost its sense in a complete haze, nothing but the grunts and murmurs caroling the cold air of the small room.

When the first threads of daybreak slipped through the cracks, it all befell you in a sharp remembrance. you recognized the scars on the body beside you, softly snoring and twisting its muscles as it woke up. 

"Round two, Ay, love?" 

You were obviously regretful of what'd taken place nights ago, as you wore your annoyance on your face. He had his way with you during a moment of weakness, claimed himself as a 'boyfriend' and crawled under your skin. In all honesty, you'd found him attractive when you first set your sight on him, the dead blues he gloomed the world with spoke a threat of violence and vengeance, sparking your own fantasies to deprave and go astray with insanity. You thought about breaking him slowly with seduction and faux timidity; succeeding when he allowed his demons to entice him into touching you, but failing when he sought love from you of all people. 

He's not ashamed of letting his emotional deprivation surface. He's a nuisance- constantly clinging to your hip, demanding all sorts of affection regardless of the time. There's a mission? He accompanies you, disobeying the leader's instructions with all satisfaction. You're going somewhere? He tags along, not caring about your protests and complaints of his existence. a hue of joy on his face blinks when you're alone together: He speaks more, attempts to flirt in his words and asks for physical assurance more than he gives (not like you wanted anything from him except sex). His tolerance decreases when it comes to your connections with the rest of the league members; he's now ruder to them and sometimes violent- warning them audibly to stop interacting with you, and you couldn't oppose yourself, feeling gleeful deep down at your capacity to get this side out of him. You were fully aware he had issues, sorts of injuries that didn't stop at his face and limbs, but that wasn't a concern of yours. 

In the silence of everything at the end of day, his head on your chest, Dabi spills out every single letter of what he thinks of you. 

"You're a bitch, and I love that about you… another disaster in my life, but a pretty one…" He rotates his head to look at you, a smug line curving up his lips "Wanna show me how much of a slutty wide-eyed brat you are?" 

You give a sweet smile in return, starting a long night of pain that didn't hurt more than it pleased. The silence of the dark would stretch until the light is poured in heavens, when every aching memory, tear and sob is forgotten and deemed to return in next kisses and bites. The journey of your lives continues to a shared horizon: you both swore on destroying the world together, ruin the scarecrow of falsity and sacralize what was truly sacred: you and him only; your new heaven through the colors of your eyes.

"Mousey…" 

"Hmm?"

"Stay with me forever…" 

"I want to be your world, you're already mine" 

"Let's burn together in hell" 

"Dance with me on their corpses" 

"I love you, do you love me?" 

"I do love you… Touya" 

[rpgsandbox]

Welcome, traveller, to the fungus-wracked tangle of Dolmenwood, and beware, for all here is not as it seems…

Dolmenwood is a fantasy adventure game set in a lavishly detailed world inspired by the fairy tales and eerie folklore of the British Isles. Like traditional fairy tales, Dolmenwood blends the dark and whimsical, the wondrous and weird.

Streamlined rules and helpful introductory materials guide novice players, while unique new magic and monsters bring a fresh sense of the unknown to veteran role-players. We’re launching the three Dolmenwood core books, plus a range of delectable extras.

Check Out a 76-Page Preview PDF!

Check out our free 76 page preview PDF of material from the 3 core books!

Preview also available at DriveThruRPG and necroticgnome.com (no account required).

Rife with intrigue, secrets, and magic, Dolmenwood draws travellers of adventurous spirit, daring them to venture within.

Explore the wild places of the Wood, travelling through bramble-choked dells, fungus-encrusted glades, and foetid marshes, bedding down among root and bracken amid the nocturnal babbling of strange beasts.

Unearth treasure hoards in forgotten ruins, haunted fairy manors, dripping caverns, crystal grottoes, unhallowed barrow mounds, and abandoned delvings.

Confront fell beasts, roving fungal monstrosities, terrible wyrms, tricksome fairies, and restless spirits of the long deceased.

Recover saintly relics and shrines lost in the befuddling tangle of the Wood, gaining the favour of the Church by returning them to civilisation.

Forage for weird fungi and herbs in the untrod depths of the woods, many with useful magical powers—and many that can be sold for profit.

Strike against Chaos, defending civilisation from the encroaching forces of the wicked, half-unicorn Nag-Lord who lurks in the corrupted northern woods.

Unravel secrets of deep magic, charting the obelisks, dolmens, and ley lines littered throughout Dolmenwood—but beware the sinister Drune cult that wards them.

Seek the counsel of witches and hags, masters of magic that can heal, hex, or divine the future.

Meddle in the affairs of the nobility, allying with a noble house in its intrigues and power plays in the courts of High-Hankle and Castle Brackenwold.

Journey along fairy roads, ancient magical paths bordering on the ageless realm of Fairy that allow travel throughout Dolmenwood—and perchance to realms beyond.

Return to the homely hearth to share tales of peril with quaint locals over a mug of ale and a well-stoked pipe.

The Dolmenwood Player’s Book (A4 size, Smyth-sewn hardcover, 192 pages approx., 1 ribbon marker) contains the complete game rules plus all character options.

Player’s introduction to the intrigues and mysteries of the forest realm of Dolmenwood.

Familiar character creation with the six classic stats, level and XP, Hit Points, and Armour Class.

6 playable kindreds: goat-headed breggles, starry-eyed elves, tricksome grimalkin cat-fairies, everyday humans, fungus-riddled mosslings, and bat-faced woodgrues.

9 character classes: cleric, enchanter, fighter, friar, hunter, knight, magician, minstrel, and thief.

4 kinds of magic: mighty arcane workings, fairy glamours and runes, holy prayers to the host of saints, and the odd knacks of mosslings.

Detailed, flavourful equipment with lists of adventuring gear, armour, weapons, mounts, hounds, inn lodgings, tavern fare, beverages, pipeleafs, fungi, and herbs.

Simple core rules: roll a d6 or a d20 plus modifiers versus a target number.

Easy-to-follow procedures for travel, camping, foraging, dungeon delving, encounters, combat, and downtime.

Full examples of play and introductory materials make the game easy to learn.

The Dolmenwood Campaign Book (A4 size, Smyth-sewn hardcover, 464 pages approx., 2 ribbon markers) presents a lavishly detailed campaign setting, ready for years of adventure.

Referee’s introduction delving into the regions and history of Dolmenwood.

Mysterious lore of the lost shrines, standing stones, ley lines, fairy roads, Wood Gods, and fairy nobles.

7 major factions: the Chaos-godling Atanuwë, the wicked fairy Cold Prince, the sorcerous Drune, the human nobility, the breggle nobility, the monotheistic Pluritine Church, and the enigmatic witches.

12 settlements detailed with major sites and NPCs and beautiful maps.

Expanded procedures for weather, getting lost, encountering monsters, fishing, foraging, and hunting.

200 pages of fantastic locations waiting to be explored.

Over 280 NPCs with their own desires and schemes.

Referee advice on starting and running campaigns, awarding XP, designing adventures, and creating dungeons.

Starter adventure to get you right into the action.

Hundreds of magical artefacts from enchanted oddments to mighty relics.

Over 250 rumours to drive adventure.

Easy-to-reference presentation designed to minimise page flipping and prep time.

The Dolmenwood Monster Book (A4 size, Smyth-sewn hardcover, 128 pages approx., 1 ribbon marker) details a bestiary of creatures that lurk under Dolmenwood’s eaves.

87 fully detailed monsters dripping with flavour, including encounter seeds and beautiful illustrations.

48 mundane animals including unique Dolmenwood fauna such as gobbles and gelatinous apes.

9 types of of normal humans: anglers, criers, fortune-tellers, lost souls, merchants, pedlars, pilgrims, priests, and villagers.

27 NPC stat blocks for common adventuring classes.

Adventuring party generator for rolling up NPC adventurers on quests of their own.

Over 300 rumours describing monsters as featured in local folklore.

Monster creation guidelines to keep players on their toes.

Easy-to-read stat blocks and bullet point presentation for quick reference.

Dolmenwood uses a lightly customised version of the acclaimed Old-School Essentials rules system, tailored to Dolmenwood and with some major quality-of-life upgrades. Players of all editions of Dungeons & Dragons will find the Dolmenwood rules very familiar.

Ability Scores: Roll for 6 ability scores: Strength, Intelligence, Wisdom, Dexterity, Constitution, Charisma.

Kindred, Class, and Level: 6 kindreds, 9 classes, levels 1–15.

Hit Points (HP): Roll 1d4, 1d6, or 1d8 (determined by Class) for HP. Re-roll 1s or 2s. 0 HP is dead!

Armour Class (AC): AC 10 = unarmoured, better protection raises AC.

Initiative: Streamlined side-based initiative makes combat fast and exciting: each side (monsters / adventurers) rolls 1d6 each Round—highest roll acts first.

Attacking: Roll 1d20, add Attack bonus and modifiers, try to beat the target’s AC, roll damage.

Saving Throws: Roll 1d20, add modifiers, try to beat a fixed target number on the character sheet.

Ability Checks: Roll 1d6, add ability modifier, 4 or higher succeeds.

Skill Checks: Roll 1d6, add modifiers, try to beat a fixed target number on the character sheet.

As an adventure game in the heritage of the RPGs of the 1970s and 1980s, Dolmenwood espouses the danger and excitement of the old-school play style.

Emergent character creation: Unique and surprising Player Characters emerge from quick random rolls, rather than from detailed character build optimisation.

Exploration, puzzles, and tricks: Players’ ingenuity and creativity are challenged by devious puzzles, traps, and tricks. Simply rolling dice to succeed is often not an option!

Creative thinking encouraged: Easy-to-learn rules for exploration, encounters, and combat provide referees with a robust framework from which to make impromptu rulings on players’ outside-the-box antics.

Fast, exciting combat: Combat encounters are quick to play out, leaving plenty of time in game sessions for exploration and role-playing. As in real life, combat is not fair or balanced—players whose clever tactics tip the balance in their favour will prevail!

Zeroes to heroes: Characters advance from humble beginnings to heights of great power.

Open-ended sandbox play: Campaigns focus on freeform stories evolved over the course of play, with players driving the action.

Kickstarter campaign ends: Sat, September 9 2023 4:59 AM BST

Website: [Exalted Funeral] [facebook] [twitter] [instagram] [youtube]

[waylaidbyenemies]

I would like to thank my new internet comrade for inspiring me to make monstrosities like this Gale the facecat tressym in picsart everyday

[lindamccartneysstrap]

why are we on this earth. just to suffer? everyday i must see a new penny url monstrosity

I am providing a unique stimulus to enrich your environment

[steddiehands86]

Waking up early is dumb…(1/2)

A twitter thread

Eddie hated waking up early, call it insomnia, too many video games of talking to his friends but either way- it made waking up in the early morning before the fog had a chance to lift pretty difficult.

Why so early? Kids. Two, in fact.

Merry and Pippin, the mini lights of his life that had school at ass o’clock, which meant Eddie had to wake up earlier to get them ready. It was always something.

No matter if he got their clothes ready the night before, they would somehow lose a shoe, forget to brush their teeth or their hair so they were always left scrambling. Either way, Eddie drifted through a fog that maybe some coffee would lend some clarity to, but that meant he would have to wake up even earlier as he didn’t have a fancy coffee maker. Tea didn’t count, and after a health scare, energy drinks were out of the question.

He usually made it a point to get dressed with the kids- a T shirt and jeans at least, but the night before he and his buddies had a raid night on their game that lasted until the very wee hours.

So when the time came for his alarm to go off, he rolled out of bed- blearily head and heavy limbed- and trudged through their morning activities. When the time came to walk them to the bus stop, he pulled up his hair, shrugged on something vaguely appropriate and did the final inspections for school. Clothes on? Check. Faces and teeth washed? Yep. Shoes thankfully ON and tied? Indeed. Hair brushed? Wellllll-

Once all of that was finished they were on their way. Wayne waved from the porch after a couple goodbye bear hugs, and the trio walked out into the mist that had descended like a sheer blanket over their little corner of life.

They identified woodpeckers, said hello to the dogs and squirrels, planned out their after school activities as it was the weekend.

Through it all, Eddie fantasized about the coffee and cigarette that was waiting for him, the warm bed he could crawl back into since he didn’t have to work that day. Even though there was no one waiting for him to curl up to, he longed for the gentle embrace of his blankets for at least a couple more hours. Thank god they had school, toddler-hood was Eddie’s hell since both kids were born early and had reflux. Night terrors. Colic.

Now they were school age it was better, and though he had issues with the faculty he could appreciate that they had buses come out to their end of town, that he didn’t have to buy school supplies this year or pay for their lunches- really it was a miracle that he needed to move back with Wayne when he did.

Raising two kids on one salary wasn’t cutting it anymore.

They had been back at Hawkins for a few months, leaving Indianapolis and all that mess behind to try and start over. He found a job, reconnected with his old friends and even made some new ones. Robin always talked about her roommate that she was sure they’d hit it off though Eddie wasn’t interested in the slightest.

No, what made his early mornings worth it was not just cuddling with his kids and playing with them before the bus would come and pick them up to whisk them off for a day of learning- it was the actual dreamboat that drove the big orange ish yellow monstrosity.

He was something else.

Always had a bright smile, a silly little wave, and spoke to his kids like they were little adults which made Eddie’s heart flutter and stomach tighten. He wasn’t sure if Steve was like him and always wondered but never said anything to him because that would be weird and the man was working so… alas.

He didn’t even know his name! It had to be something like Vinny, or Tony. He looked Italian with his olive-toned skin, the cute little moles with those sleepy little puppy-dog eyes.

It was ridiculous. He was ridiculous. Always smiling that thousand watt toothpaste commercial smile, complete with a “Hi guys!” Who woke up that bright -eyed and bushy tailed? The man was killing Eddie everyday oh so softly and deftly.

Today was the same, though different. The bus came by right on time at 8am, the lights on top of the cab flashing. The kids sprang out of the bushes and batting at the leaves and twigs that cling to them to huddle around Eddie for their goodbye hugs and kisses.

The bus pulled up and stopped, and their in the drivers seat was Vinny/Tony/stranger-

“HI STEVE!” Both kids screeched in joy.

So his name was Steve, good to know. Eddie wondered if he was related to that other Steve who was in a couple grades behind him. He always thought he moved on to college or something.

“Hey guys! Good morning! Merry, you going to be a menace today?”

Eddie’s daughter stomped up the steps and high waved him, “Yeah!”

“Alright!” The guy sounded just like Linda from Bob’s Burgers and Eddie was in love.

“Pip, you gonna be a fool of a Took?”

Eddie. Was. In. Love.

“Always!” Pippin chirped before high giving the little boy.

They went to their seats and before Eddie chose that moment to leave and fantasize about the bus driver later, the siren of his morning fantasies called out.

“Something tells me you might like this- what did the bus driver say to the frog?”

“I’m, I-I don’t know? What did he say?” Shouldn’t he be like…driving away? Was he calling him a fucking frog?

Steve’s smile just got bigger as he bounced his eyebrows at his own joke, “he said ‘Hop on’.”

To be fair, it was really fucking early and Eddie’s brain was like cheese, so normally he would have got it right then but all he did was snort and wave.

It was only until Steve had driven away, and Eddie had walked back home to tell Wayne the weird fucking thing the bus driver said to him over coffee did he get it. Wayne snorted and shook his head, saying nobody had time say shit like that early in the morning unless they were sweet on someone did Eddie suspect that maybe, just maybe, Steve might be a little fruity.

So maybe waking up early wouldn’t be so much a hassle, that it could be something to maybe look forward to. He knew for sure he could put a little more effort in his appearance because the frog comparison was entirely accurate though hurtful at the moment.

As he laid back down to dream about cute Bus Driver Steve, his sludgy mind supplied him with strange dreams of frogs, kisses, princes and chariots that he would no doubt forget upon waking back up.

He couldn’t wait to pick the kids up at the bus stop later.

[yico0]

Love Alarm

"Love Alarm" uses the love alarm app, a piece of advanced technology, to signify otherness in human identity, particularly in love and relationships. The app creates a world where a person's desirability is quantified and broadcasted for others to see. This can be seen as a commentary on how technology can impact and commodify human relationships, touching upon themes related to class, popularity, and social hierarchy. It also explores the emotional distance that technology can create in human connections.

Humanist Practices: enhancing Human Connection and the emphasis on Human Emotions. The love alarm app is introduced as a tool to help people find love and emotional connection. It aims to enhance the human experience by allowing individuals to easily identify potential romantic partners. Post-Humanist Practices: blurring boundaries, dependency on technology, and people's exploration of identity. While the series primarily focuses on human emotions and relationships, it does introduce the idea that technology can blur the boundaries between the digital and physical worlds. The love alarm app creates a new layer of reality in which people's feelings are quantified and publicly displayed. It also depicts a society increasingly dependent on technology for matters of the heart. It suggests a shift in the way humans engage in romantic relationships, relying on algorithms and digital interfaces.

While "Love Alarm" doesn't explicitly involve aliens or monsters, it does depict the Love Alarm app as something that can feel alien and monstrous in its ability to disrupt traditional human relationships. The intrusive nature of the app, which broadcasts one's feelings to the world, can be seen as a form of emotional invasion, creating a sense of alienation and monstrosity in the characters' lives.

“Love Alarm" doesn't directly address geopolitical concerns in the traditional sense. Still, it touches on broader societal issues related to technology and social dynamics that can be interpreted as indirect commentary on contemporary problems. For example, the app "Love Alarm" raises questions about privacy and surveillance as the app collects and broadcasts users' emotional data. This theme resonates with contemporary debates on data privacy, surveillance, and the ethics of technology companies collecting and using personal information.

The central premise of the love alarm app serves as a reflection on the complexity of human emotions. It raises questions about whether love can be reduced to a numerical value and whether technology can accurately capture the nuances of human emotional experiences.

Questions:

In the context of the love alarm app's impact on social inequality and self-esteem, how does the series comment on the intersectionality of identities, such as gender, class, and physical appearance? How do they relate to broader discussions of identity in contemporary society?

"Love Alarm" introduces a world where emotions are quantified and exposed for public scrutiny. Can you draw connections between the show's exploration of this theme and real-world examples or ethical frameworks?

How does the love alarm app in "Love Alarm" impact the characters' everyday lives and decisions, and how does this reflect the influence of technology on modern relationships and societal norms?

[releina]

*taps mic* 🎤

Oh uhm hiiii 👋🏼🫣

So I uhh... *gulp* I'm new here. 😶‍🌫️

I've been quietly lurking tumblr and AO3 since BPWF came out and I've been batshit crazy about Namor X Shuri. So much that I, who has considered retiring from fanfic writing, had gotten back to it.

I watched the numbers grow in AO3 the first week that BPWF came out in Nov 2022 and it's just amazing now that it's 700+ (and counting!). Guilty as charged, I do check it everyday. 😅

We've stood together through adversities and supported each other through them all (with all the naysayers and the recent issue).

I'm so proud of our fandom and I want to thank all writers and artists who fed our little fantasies and indulged our brainrots. 🥹 I would like to contribute in it as well! 😌✨

I've been inspired to work on a fanfic since December 2022/January 2023. I'm terribly busy with life and I get to write bits and pieces of it every now and then. I always hesitate as to when would be the best time to publish it because I'm second guessing myself. The fanfic is still a WIP but it's now a monstrosity of more than 44K words 🫣 and has yet to be finished and titled.

But I realized—you know what, fuck it. I'm doing it. I want someone, anyone to read it. Maybe even critique it. I would be honored if someone could even love it.

I'm not participating in Nashuri week (yet), but I do want to seize that chance—while a good amount of audience would be there—to release a chapter or two of my work and see where that takes me.

Soooo I hope to see you there and come say hi? 🤗

[rikuugan]

𝑨   𝑺𝑻𝑼𝑫𝒀   𝑰𝑵    :       being   a   god   among   men,   with   the   weight   of   the   world   resting   upon   your   shoulders.   a   study   in   being   born   as   a   weapon,   one   that   sees   and   knows   nearly   all,   and   the   infinite   agonies   that   comes   along   with   being   trapped   within   a   mortal   heart.   in   the   madness   that   comes   with   being   the   center   of   the   universe,   the   responsibility   and   loneliness   that   it   carries   along   with   it   -   and   the   knowledge   of   your   own   monstrosity.   with   an   afterward   in   wanting   to   be   needed,   but   not   being   needed   and   instead   being   used   -   until   there   is   nothing   left.

private   &   selective   /   mutuals   only   gojo   satoru   of   jujutsu   kaisen.   headcanon   based   with   potential   divergencies.   not   spoiler   free.   (   oc   +   crossover   /   au   friendly   )   adult   themes   will   be   heavily   present.   (   minors   /   personals   do   not   interact   )   written   by   chi   /   30+   /   they+them   /   usa.

⁰¹ carrd.     ⁰² prompts.     ⁰³ headcanons. ᴀғғɪʟɪᴀᴛᴇs. @cultfed ʙʟᴏɢʀᴏʟʟ. @amourem

DISCLAIMER.    first  order  of  business  -  gojo  satoru  is  not  my  character,  nor  is  jujutsu  kaisen  my  series.  i  am  not  affiliated  with  the  production  nor  do  i  claim  to  be.  my  headcanons,  writings,  and  graphics  (unless  listed  otherwise)  are  all  my  own,  however.  

one.  the  activity  on  this  blog  will  fluctuate,  so  it's  best  to  simply  consider  it  to  be  low  activity.  i  lead  a  busy  life  outside  writing,  and  tend  to  have  fluctuating  muse  -  so  i  can't  guarantee  a  reply  everyday!  because  my  energy  can  be  so  limited  -  this  blog  is  mutuals  only  and  selective.  i  curate  my  space  to  people  i  fully  intend  on  interacting  with  -  so  if  i  do  follow  you,  it's  because  i  absolutely  want  to  write.  that  being  said  -  sometimes  you  don't  mesh  with  people  and  that's  perfectly  fine!  however,  i  do  ask  if  you  want  to  unfollow  please  soft  block  me.  i  don't  have  interest  in  interacting  with  non-mutuals.  

two.  i  like  to  think  i'm  a  friendly  person  and  make  great  efforts  to  interact  with  my  mutuals!  please  feel  free  to  slide  into  my  messages  to  plot  at  any  time,  or  send  me  a  prompt  from  my  prompts  tag.  i  absolutely  love  meeting  new  writers,  reading  their  takes  on  characters,  and  learning  more  about  interpretations  -  it's  part  of  what  makes  rp  in  this  space  so  fun!  to  that  end  -  i  consider  myself  crossover,  alternative  universe,  and  duplicate  friendly.  

the  best  way  to  interact  with  me  outside  plotting  is  usually  just  sending  in  a  prompt!  i  love  generating  stuff  from  those.

three.  i  am  a  novella  writer,  usually  about  3-5  paragraphs  in  length  (sometimes  more)  with  slight  formatting  and  of  and  on  usage  of  icons.  i  really  do  not  expect  to  be  matched  word  for  word,  but  effort  is  always  appreciated.  i  tend  to  really  enjoy  character  introspection  -  as  well  as  dialogue,  and  gojo  is  a  bit  of  a  yapper,  so  apologies  in  advance  if  he  talks  the  ears  off  your  muse.  

additionally.  the  content  of  writing  on  this  blog  will  be  dark.  jujutsu  kaisen  is  not  a  light-hearted  series,  and  gojo  himself  not  a  particularly  gentle  character.  writings  may  include  violence,  physical  trauma,  psychological  trauma,  gore,  religious  trauma,  elements  of  horror,  drug  usage,  and  sexual  themes/smut.  triggers  and  other  unsafe  content  will  be  either  read  mored  and/or  tagged.  i  tag  them  as  follows:  '  tag  here  /  '.

four.  shipping  is  a  delight  -  and  something  i  shamelessly  do  enjoy.  gojo  is  extremely  flirtatious,  unfortunately  absurdly  attractive,  and  somehow  simultaneously  the  worst  person  in  existence  -  all  that  said,  if  he  does  flirt  it  does  not  necessarily  mean  shipping  is  on  the  table.  if  a  thread  or  plotting  seems  to  be  going  that  way  -  i'm  happy  to  discuss  if  it's  something  post  parties  are  interested  in.  i  also  can't  believe  i  have  to  type  this  but  i  do  not  ship  gojo  with  any  of  his  students.  ew.  

IMPORTANT.  i  do  headcanon  gojo  to  be  gay,  and  he's  not  closeted  regarding  it  in  the  slightest.  his  feelings  about  suguru  are  on  a  case  by  case  basis  and  up  to  the  writer  involved,  but  he  does  default  to  having  had  romantic  feelings  regarding  him  in  the  past.  

five.  i  don't  like  ship  exclusivity  and  i  dislike  interaction  exclusivity  even  more  so.  i  think  it  alienates  new  rpers  from  a  space,  as  well  as  closes  off  potential  interactions.  however  -  i  do  understand  that  sometimes  we  have  people  that  fulfill  what  we  want  within  a  ship  or  dynamic  so  with  that  said,  only  under  very  rare  circumstances  do  i  participate  in  exclusivity.  i  do  have  mains  (or  affiliates)  which  i  typically  list  on  my  pinned  or  carrd.  

six.  drama  is  a  hard  no.  i'm 30+  and  really  not  interested  in  any  aspects  of  it.  as  for  callout  culture,  i  do  not  participate  unless  the  person  the  callout  is  for  poses  a  risk  to  others  offline  or  other  extreme  circumstances.  to  summarize,  i  am  here  to  relax  -  to  write  my  silly  little  sweet-toothed  sorcerer  and  have  a  good  time.  drama,  possessiveness  for  me  as  a  mun,  and  the  other  standards  are  the  fastest  way  to  get  you  blocked  and  evicted  from  my  life.  

basic  dni  criteria  applies.  minors  /  proshippers  /  and  especially  personal  blogs  are  all  blocked  on  sight.  i  also  do  not  tolerate  blatant  racism,  misogyny,  and  in  particular:  bi/panphobia.  just  don't  be  an  asshole.  

written  by  chi  (they/them,  30+,  usa)  discord  available  upon  request!

[andrewmoocow]

Before Marcy’s Journal was leaked, I had my own headcanons for the Waybright and Wu parents that I’ve kept in my head for ages. But now that Marcy’s Journal sort of proved them all wrong, I might as well give them a proper funeral by showing them off here.

Sasha (maybe these can still work, I just need to change the names)

Manipulation runs in the family. German-American Samuel Waybright is a moderately successful car salesman (in fact, “End of discussion” was derived from his slogan “You need these cars, end of discussion!”) while Japanese Yoko Waybright (nee Karisuma) is a model and activist.

Sasha is a total daddy’s little princess. After the divorce, she stays with Samuel on weekdays while Yoko takes Sasha on weekends.

Speaking of the divorce, Samuel and Yoko were motivated to split up because they just weren’t feeling it anymore. While they did part amicably, Sasha on the other hand was concerned on whether they’re doing it because of her. In hindsight, Samuel probably could’ve broken the news better.

When the Calamity Trio disappeared to Amphibia, Samuel had all of LA torn apart in search of them, but eventually, the police decided to give up because thousands of children disappear in the USA everyday, but none have ever vanished into thin air without a clue as to where they are.

Marcy

Marcy’s parents aren’t abusive in the slightest, you guys just like turning everything into Sashannarcy angst. They’re just strict but ultimately flawed Asian parents, did none of you watch Turning Red?!

Getting back on subject, Ed and Shauna Wu were just as concerned for Marcy’s disappearance as Sam and Yoko were for Sasha, but they chose to wait until they got an update on Marcy rather than ordering a full-scale manhunt.

Much like Marcy, Ed is sometimes insensitive of others’ feelings and wants, which often causes strife between the two of them. Meanwhile, Shauna is the one to keep her husband and their daughter from getting themselves into too much trouble.

Once Marcy explained everything that happened on Amphibia to her folks, Ed believed himself to be at fault for driving his daughter away and how it’s because of him that she was sent to a world where she got emotionally manipulated, stabbed to death, and forced to become the vessel for a mechanical monstrosity. Marcy on the other hand takes blame for this as well to cheer him up since in her words “We all have those days where we screw up and it hurts others.” The Wus would soon adopt this into a little motto.

Well, I think that should be it I think. Any thoughts?