#he does not ask for forgiveness or permission. he just does whatever he wants

[rythyme]

thai directors: hey gmmtv... we're making a BL romance drama. may we perhaps include a tasteful gay sex scene?

GMMTV: no. fuck you. die.

jojo tichakorn: yo what's up gmmtv! i have THE BEST idea for my queer sex comedy. i'm gonna put sing harit in a bdsm dungeon, dress him in a leather puppy mask, and have him bark like a dog. fun, right?

GMMTV: omg hiiiii p'jojo! 😍 idk what you just said but here's a blank cheque. have fun!!!! 😍😍😍

[gennianydots]

I think I found my favorite gif maybe…ever?

[ratatatastic]

[asks mackie for his bottle] [has no qualms giving it to luosty] "hm?"

[luosty asks him if its okay to drink from it] [has to think about it for a few seconds]

"what?" [asks him again] [nods]

[takes an absolutely big swig] "whatever" [passes bottle back] "oh"

[takes a swig and passes it back]

special cameo ole patty trying to get mackies attention, you know, as someone whos currently his liney, and mackie not even giving him the time of day because hes too busy listening to luosty

terribly important conversations are being had here between lineys who are not currently lineys because the injury bug is a vicious thing around here or alternatively luosty does charm everyone yeah

florida panthers @ new york islanders | 10.26.24

[snakeredbirdbatkatana]

"I'm angry at you" Tim forces out.

It's been a long time coming, the words that have been circling his mind for years. Rotting the back of his throat.

Jason is Bruce's son in a way that he will never be. It's just a simple fact.

Maybe he could have picked a different time maybe a family dinner wasn't the place, but he was the one that spent year's of his life having to dodge bullets and murder attempts. He had to spend month's in physical therapy after the tower.

The place he felt safe was ripped away because Jason who is traumatized he hasn't forgot that fact, decided to hunt him down and hurt him.

Maybe Robin isn't a child, but Tim Drake was.

He turns to Bruce who's face is of course blank he's the one who wants Jason here yet not an emotion in sight.

Turns back to look Jason in the eye the man who's sitting next to Damian sometimes he wonders if Alfred does it on purpose a way to remind Tim that his murderers will always have something he doesn't.

He will look him in the eye he will not falter today.

"I was a child, I should have never been the exception to your rule. Say what you will about Robin being something else but you didn't care about Robin you cared it was me"

Silence it's funny how comforting it can be.

"I should not have to sit at the same table as two of my attempted murderers and pretend that it's ok. You are both traumatized I understand that but it will never be an excuse for traumatizing me. I see the Red hood and Robin in my nightmares."

He turns to look at Dick who as always is to the right of him once again pointing to Alfred doing this seating on purpose.

"You are a hypocrite who has never shut up about drying but goes out his way to kill another Robin."

He sees Alfred step forward closer to Bruce he wonders what the point is will he say anything, not likely but why move he almost asks yet if he doesn't finish he never will.

"This was your home first it still is, but I have bled and given more than you will ever know to secure my place here. So Bruce I do not ever want to partnered with either one of them in the field. You or Dick are the only options. You will not argue with me this is me laying my boundaries which I am entitled to."

He stares at Alfred loosing the blank look to let some of the anger out. He wants him to know.

"You will also never again force me to sit at a dinner table across from them again. Whatever British Passive-Aggressive gesture this is. You have no right to do. I will never forgive you for my birthday."

Dick goes to interrupt he doesn't let him.

"Bruce and Alfred have my full permission to discuss the psychological torture they put me through as my birthday present. But from now on none of you get to treat me as if I am some replacement or placeholder. I am a person with feelings, I will not be treated like a doormat."

He makes eye contact with each of them Alfred, Bruce, Jason and Damian.

Before turning to Dick for the last part.

"You are the only person here who has never deliberately hurt me, your my brother and I love you. I want to spend more time with you and I am specifically requesting that you come with me when I leave this table. We can get dinner or hang out but I need you to leave with me."

----------

Bruce is speechless.

How did he do this, his child is sitting at his table trembling and he can't move.

His child who just spent ten minutes defending himself and he is doing nothing.

Dick interrupts what he can admit is a pity party.

"Your my brother, I will happily follow you to the ends of the earth and if we leave now we can go to the Thai place that you like."

He can't let them leave he has to say something.

Tell Tim that he loves him, that he can fix this that this isn't the end. That it matters but before he can there gone.

His boys leave.

His precious sons, one loyal to a fault and one hurt beyond measure and what did he do nothing.

What he always does nothing.

[yanfeisty]

⠀⠀⠀꒰͡ ⠀ ִ ♡ kisses headcanons. ׅ ׄ ⠀ ͡꒱

Their way of kissing are so special that it’s more than a simple romantic gesture from first glance, and you should know it as their lover, especially when you are the reason of what makes them special in the first place. This includes Argenti, Blade, Childe and Alhaitham from Honkai Star Rail and Genshin. Content warnings: small mention of death in Blade's part.⠀⠀Have a great time with your husbandos!⠀⠀ ︵ ⠀⠀ ̼

⠀‣ Argenti

How often: Nearly every day, if he doesn’t then he is away. How can he resist the need to embrace you, when his heart beats at a fast pace and he's at a loss for words each time his eyes lay on you, the only way he can communicate is by locking your lips and moving them together. Moreover, since it is his duty as a knight of beauty to make every creature know their true beauty and value, what a better way to show it to you than a kiss, one that makes you feel like the most treasured creature in the cosmos.

Types of kisses: The one that is like a promise. It’s such a typical gesture of him to bow to you with a kneel on the ground and sometimes, a hand on his heart as a sign of his devotion to always be your knight. While his other hand envelopes yours, approaches it to his lips, and delicately brush the back of your hand with his thumb like it is made of glass, before leaving a small peck on it.

The lovey dovey one, where he reaches for your hand but this time he grabs it to pull you close to him, and leaves a trail of kisses from your wrist to your face in a quick pace, you don’t even have time to speak before he reaches your mouth and shush your words. It always catches you off guard because you can’t see his heart skipping a beat whenever he remembers why he loves you so much.

The gentle and most frequent one. His fingers find themselves under your chin, deviating your eyes from whatever you were focusing on to his sparkly light green ones, “May I have this kiss?” He will always ask first the permission like a gentleman, because he would hate to force his love upon you. It’s neither too light nor overly passionate, just enough to make you flustered by the delicacy of his lips.

Kissing in public: He has no problem to do it in public, it became a natural habit of his to kiss you, and there’s nothing that’s going to stop him from it, not even the eyes of other people watching you like they're watching a romantic movie, although you’re being hidden by his voluminous hair. It doesn’t help that he stands out of the crowd with his unique and charming look. However, he’ll understand your discomfort if you tell him. “Forgive me, my love. I do not see the crowd when I’m being mesmerized by your beauty.”

Extra: It’s also the way he holds you, one of his hand holding your face while the other envelopes your waist to get you closer, it feels neither oppressing nor dominating, but comforting like he'll always be with you. He also smells like roses, which adds to the experience, you’ll definitely have his scent on you after being this close to him.

⠀‣ Blade

How often: Rarely, Blade doesn't display much emotion nor does he feel a lot of them, so don't expect to get a lot of affection from him. Though sometimes, when the burden becomes too much to bear and a wave of agitation hits him, he finds some comfort in you. Despair and violence used to be his only solutions to deal with it, but you somehow make him feel a bit better, he is not sure why, but your lips do pacify his illness a little.

Types of kisses: The desperate one, where you can feel all his emotion he puts in it, maybe his lips will taste bitter because of the feeling of revenge or sloppy when he is distressed. It's not perfect but it's no less true. He shouldn't be able to rely on someone this badly and show his moments of weakness, and yet, he is unable remove his lips from yours until he can’t breathe anymore and forgets the pain.

The shut up one. You’re talking too much. This irritates him. He just wants to silence those unnecessary ramblings of yours before he goes crazy. So, he forcefully brings your mouth to his for it to stop moving. “Will you shut up now, or do I need to do it for you?”

Kissing in public: It would be showing his weaker self, you’re the only one allowed to see it. He doesn't like when you try to kiss him, because he would rather not be the subject of teasing from his colleagues, even if he knows it's already the case and he can't stop it. It's so weird for everyone, especially for those who know him to see this cold and scary heart letting someone this close to him, and having his cheeks showing a small hint of embarrassment because of them.

Extra: Kissing his scars, it somehow heals them, not that he feels any physical pain, but when he sees his body full of stitches it reminds him how he should be dead, but you deviate this thought from him to a more pleasant one. His body is like a walking corpse, pale and cold, and yet, by feeling your lips on his brings some... warmth. Feeling life surging through his veins doesn’t feel so bad for once. “Please... Don't stop.”

⠀‣ Childe

How often: Since he's often sent on missions, he makes the most of the time he spends with you. Plenty of kisses you'll receive a kiss as a reminder that his heart will always be with you, no matter the distance.

Types of kisses: The kissing ambush, you’re just so adorable sometimes, he can’t help but squish your face with his palms and peck it without stopping. You’re stucked between his hands who hold you dearly, and you aren’t able to say a word because he’ll cut it off with a kiss. “Haha… Don't look at me like that, love. You're the one being too cute here.”

The eskimo kiss. The freezing cold of Snezhnaya isn't merciful, especially for those who aren't used to it. Childe is always here to warm you up when you need it, and one of his greatest technique is to rub your nose together. The skin contact and his melodious laugh which lets out a hot breath brings heat to your face, and erases completely the cold from your skin.“Perhaps it worked a little too well, your cheeks are burning.”

Kissing in public: He isn't one to be ashamed to show that he loves and cares for his loved ones, and you're no exception. However, when it comes to more 'passionate' kisses compared to the light ones or if you feel shy, he'll always find a good place to hide in when you'll be left alone, and it would be lying to say he doesn't like the risk of getting caught by someone, to the point you can feel that his actions are too bold for the place you’re in.

Extra: When inflicted by minor or deadly injuries, he claims that the only way to heal them is with a kiss, and he won't take any medicine before he gets one. You might be irritated by his stubbornness and childish behavior when he is on the edge of dying, but for him who had plenty of injuries before that his body became indifferent to them, he can’t miss the opportunity to tease you when your face is painted with concern, which honestly melts his heart at the sight of it.

⠀‣ Alhaitham

How often: Alhaitham is more affection than someone might think, just not publicly. It's frequently that you'll share small affectionate moments together, he doesn’t kiss a lot though, he prefers other skin contact like having your body on his or him having a hand on you, it feels relaxing and honestly he can’t think of a better situation than have you close to him.

Types of kisses: The goodnight one. It's regularly that you're reading together, very close to each other. The most comfortable position is when you put your head on his torso, and you both hold each side of the book. And each time, the relaxing atmosphere plus the lullaby made by his heartbeat doesn’t fail to drive you slowly to sleep. When Alhaitham notices it that you fell asleep when you still haven’t turn page, he'll plant a small kiss on the top of your head before stroking it as a way to say goodnight. It’s a habit that he’ll never get tired of.

The one he uses to silence you. Alhaitham doesn't like meaningless noises, he may tolerate your voice more than he does with any person, but not when it says things that are straight up wrong or disturb his peace. Without any warning, he'll pin you against the closest wall. The action makes you stumble over whatever you were saying, it doesn't help that your breathing gets reduced as he approaches. You finally stop trying to when your lips are seal by his before, he leaves you stunned without any words.

The lazy one. Alhaitham likes a comfortable lifestyle, and you can feel it in his kisses. He doesn't do much effort, his hand is loosely holding the back of your head while his lips brush yours gently, and eventually lean into it. “It's not essential work anyway, you can stay here until you regain the energy needed for it”. Always the same excuse for him not move and still keep you in his arms, but it’s always working.

Kissing in public: He doesn't necessarily want to have your relationship become a subject of chatter that is mixed with opinions he didn’t ask for. Not that he cares about what people think, but it can create rumors or even problems that he'll be forced to resolve, and also make him become the center of attention, which isn’t something he desires. He prefers doing it at home because it’s a more comfortable place anyway.

Extra: It's such a weird coincidence that Alhaitham suddenly wants to kiss you each time Kaveh enters the room. Kaveh who's first flustered because he feels like an intruder, and quickly shuts the door. Then he becomes frustrated when he notices that Alhaitham does it purposefully to annoy him, he shouts things like “Oh my God, have some decency and get a room!”, now Alhaitham could riposte by telling him to get his own house first… but honestly he prefers to save his breath when he’s kissing you.

‘𝓣𝐇𝐄 𝓔𝐍𝐃  Please don’t copy/translate and don’t reblog with yand3r3 tags, also if you’re a yand3r3 blog/reblog account, or you’ll be blocked. Besides that, likes/reblogs/comments are appreciated. 

Taglist:⠀@avensuersa <3

[yawujin]

lord forgive me for what i'm about to request--

imagine the allies and axis with a partner who is submisive --

like let's them take the lead asks them for permission and maybe likes wear collar

love your work btw!! <3

alright , finally got to this req 🙏🏽 thank you very much anon <3 here you go !

{ request } allies & axis x submissive! reader 💭 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

type • nsfw content , dom/sub dynamics , they/them pronouns used , usage of collars , usage of a riding crop , light degradation

allies ♥︎

america/alfred f. jones

i see him as more of a sub/bottom, however-i know he also wants to feel like he has power over someone. it's just what he does. so whenever they ask him for permission; he enjoys denying them what they want...whatever they ask of him, america will be sure to make them wait for it. i've said in another one of my hcs posts that he likes building up anticipation. before allowing them any relief, he'll want them to ache for it first.

england/arthur kirkland

OKAY SO i'm sure this would be too harsh for the soft subs but for ones that are really into it, arthur would 100% make them 'properly' beg. he'd want them to use words like 'sir' when they address him and ask for permission from him. so, if they forget to─he'd get a riding crop and use it to spank them until they got it right. he'll gladly collar them, but whenever they have it on, he'll just treat them like a cute little lapdog. he considers getting a leash for them quickly after.

france/francis bonnefoy

he's more than happy to collar them. thing is though, he'll want them to wear it almost all the time. that way, he has easy access to tug on it lightly and pull them in for a kiss (quickly turned makeout session) soon enough, france has them right where he wants them─which is either face up or face down. nevertheless, they're under him. he can't help but to gush over how cute they look in that collar !

canada/matthieu williams

being quite the softie himself, canada will allow them to do most anything. he enjoys telling them what to do and how to do it, guiding their hand with his own to the places he wants them to touch. his favorite thing to do is glide his fingertips across their skin, in the most sensitive of places on their body. once he gets them worked up, he pauses and waits for the begging that immediately follows after. he cannot hide the grin that graces his face when they plead for him and use his name.

russia/ivan braginski

if he didn't call them pet names before, well now he certainly does. ever since he agreed to put a collar on them, he's been calling them cute, yet ever so slightly degrading names. if they want him to take the lead, he has no problem doing just that. sometimes, he'll even grab them by the back of their collar and pull them in close. he'll lean over just to whisper those same names to them , and feel them writhe against him. it brings him great satisfaction to see them in their place beneath him.

china/yao wang

trust me, he has absolutely zero issues with telling them what to do. first off, he's happy that they would trust him enough with such a thing. but with that established, he can get a little crazy. he wants them to do the most just for his entertainment. he enjoys a little tease now and then. do it too often, and he'll want to take them right then and there. that's quite out of character for him , since he likes to anticipate what they'll try next to get a rise out of him. so when they admit that they like him being the one in charge; china starts making them beg more, ask for permission more, plead for him more until he himself can't take it any longer and finally gives in to them. all in all, he likes to deprive himself. then , when he gets hungry enough to indulge in everything he wants to do to them, he jumps at any opportunity they give him.

axis ♥︎

n. italy/feliciano vargas

most of the time , he teases them. he loves to hear their whines, their pleads. he finds it adorable. of course, eventually he'll give in and let them have exactly what they want─but that comes after he's had all his fun with them. they can't be surprised when he starts petting them like a cat once the collar comes on (:3c)

germany/ludwig beilschmidt

as he expected, they want him to take the lead. he guides them with expertise, finding that it's just as simple as directing soldiers in a training session. he manhandles them quite roughly while saying the sweetest of words to them like it's a second nature to him.

japan/kiku honda

as soon as they even suggest the use of a collar, japan's mind wanders to what other things the two could possibly use. of course, he realizes bringing up so many other items with them now could be quite overwhelming. japan is a patient man. speaking of patience, he could probably edge them for hours at a time, and not grow tired of it. how could he? when they're begging and moaning his name like that...

prussia/gilbert beilschmidt

it's like REALLY hard (wink) for him to keep his cool when he sees them in a collar. he finds it extremely hot for some reason so he's trying to hold back. his mind instantly goes to a long lost fantasy of having them as his thrall. and as much as he'd like to treat them like that, he does his best on dominating them without going too hard at first

s. italy/lovino vargas

he especially likes to do that thing where he mocks their tone of voice which they use to beg for him. he laughs whenever he can make them moan, squirm and whine. he plays with their collar as he kisses them, every single kiss leading up to the moment where he finally allows them to finish. sometimes, scenes like that replay in his head when he thinks about them <3

[phosphorus-12]

Grougal: Wakey Wakey Eggs and Bakey! Qilby: But I'm a vegan. Grougal: Wakey Wakey Vegetables and Sadness.

Qilby: You’re overthinking this. Yugo: You don’t know the appropriate level of thinking, Qilby. What if I’m underthinking?

Qilby: Let’s write Efrim a friendly note, shall we? Dear… Incompetent… Dumbass…

Yugo: Sometimes I drink milk straight from the container. Grougal: The cow?? Chibi: What? Adamai: Grougal, W H Y?

Qilby: Who the fuck added me to a fucking group chat? Mina >:O language Yugo: Yeah watch your fucking language Chibi: Okay, who taught Yugo the fuck word?! Adamai: 'The fuck word'. Mina: Are you stupid? You guys use the f word all the time Glip: Oh my god they censored it Qilby: Say fuck, Mina. Efrim: Do it, Mina. Say fuck.

Efrim: The saying “it is better to beg forgiveness than to ask permission” no longer applies to Yugo.

Adamai: We should normalize not loving family members. Yugo: You can just say: “I hate my dumb fuck brother, Qilby” or whatever. Talk like a normal person!

Chibi: We might have gotten into a bar room brawl back in the city. Mina: Well, that was entirely predictable. Chibi: One of them punched a gang member. Mina: Qilby? Chibi: Yugo, actually. Mina: Oh, that was going to be my second guess.

Baby Grougal after being born: I woke up and chose VIOLENCE. I WILL COMMIT ARSON AND BURN EVERYTHING TO THE GROUND!!! I AM ANGRY- Yugo: Awwww, you’re so adorable! Give me a hug~ Grougal: Wh-What? nO, yOURE SUPPOSED TO BE SCARED OF ME! TREMBLE BEFORE MY WRATH- Adamai, recording: This is so cute.

Qilby: Why is it so hard for you to believe me?! Glip: … Qilby: Oh, right. The lying.

Balthazar: I hate you sometimes. Qilby: Well according to this picture Mina drew of us holding hands that's not true. Balthazar: Qilby, you drew that. Qilby: It doesn't matter.

Grougal: This should be illegal! Chibi: It is.

Phaeris is casually searching around the room Adamai: Hey Phaeris, what’re you looking for? Phaeris: My will to live. Mina walks into the room Phaeris: Oh, there it is.

Nora: No more making fun of me when I misuse dated cultural references, alright? Are we cowabunga on this? Yugo, sighing: Fine. We're cowabunga.

Nora: Made you all playlists! Nora: Efrim, yours has only heavy metal, and is dark like your soul. Nora: Chibi, yours has sad songs and blues to pair with your crippling depression. Nora: And Shinonome has the ABBA Gold album.

Nora: CHARACTER. FLAWS. ARE. FUCKING. IMPORTANT. Yugo: Me when someone tells me to stop eating mayo packets like they’re gogurt tubes.

Kidnapper: I have your father. Yugo: What? I don't have a father… Kidnapper: Then who just called me a lowlife bitch and spit in my face? Yugo: Oh my god, you have my brother Qilby.

Shinonome: Hi, could I ask how exactly does one accidentally set a lemon on fire?? Balthazar: Microwave for 40 minutes. 😔 Chibi: Why were you microwaving a lemon??? Balthazar: I read boiling lemons helps cover up up bad smells (I wanted to cover up the scent of burnt oranges) but I didn't own any pots. Adamai: Did you burn an orange too? How??? Balthazar: Microwave for 40 minutes. 😔

Yugo: You don't think I can fight because of my height! Chibi: I don't think you can fight because you're in a wedding dress. For what it's worth, I don't think Qilby can fight in that dress either. Qilby: Perhaps not. But I would make a radiant bride.

Chibi: I'm trying to juggle family life and work life but I can't seem to find a balance. What do you suggest I do to keep everyone happy? Yugo, deadpan: Quit your job, kill your family.

Efrim: Five little monkeys jumping on the bed. One fell off and… Grougal: Was diagnosed with mesothelioma. Efrim: Mamma called the doctor and the doctor said… Qilby: You might be entitled to financial compensation if he or a loved one dies.

[nian-7]

Hello!

Can I request Toya, Akito and Tsukasa with S/o who insulted them after a difficult day due to emotions? And then asked for forgiveness when calmed down ^^

hi! hope you enjoy, anon!!

Akito, Toya, Tsukasa x gn!reader

✧lashing out after having a bad day

✧comfort

-Akito is honestly a little bit offended but can understand where you're coming from. He does get a bit angry with you for insulting him like that since that's not how you should treat anyone!

-He scolds you for it, hopefully knocking some sense into you so that you could apologize and talk it out with him. He won't hold a grudge to it as long as you do apologize.

-If his scolding doesn't knock some sense into you and you're still upset, he'll leave you be as to not aggravate you even more than you already are. You can come to him when you're ready and he'll listen.

-If it does knock the sense back into you, he'll let you hug, kiss, cuddle, whatever you need from him until you feel better. He's a better listener than advice giver so he'll listen to you rant or cry it out and not say a word other than some physical contact so you know he's there.

-Toya himself isn't very good with words but when you lash out at him, he can't help but feel a pang of hurt inside. He's really hurt by your words and just kind of stands there in shock for a moment.

-He's not really sure what to say or how to say what he does want to say because he doesn't want to make it worse. In the end, he lets you come to him when you're ready.

-He's not about forcing you to apologize because he hopes you'll realize lashing out at him wasn't right and you'll come apologize to him when you calm down.

-There isn't much of a reaction once you apologize other than a soft smile as he accepts the apology. He's glad you didn't mean it and will offer a hug if you need one because he understands that sometimes days don't go well and you just need to calm down before talking it out!

-A little bit of panic sets in when you lash out at Tsukasa. Possibilities to why you'd say such a thing run through his mind because he's not sure what he did wrong if anything.

-He does try to ask what's wrong and try to comfort you. He doesn't really care if you apologize for it or not because he knows you love him and hopes it was just because you weren't feeling yourself.

-He hopes you feel better if you end up pushing him away for a bit to have time to yourself and is happy when you walk up to him and apologize for yelling at him.

-Very cuddly after, he wants to make you feel better so he tries his best to cuddle and listen to whatever you have to say to him, if anything at all.

please do not repost any of my work without my permission, thank you for reading.

[wukong-s-only-wife5000]

could u pls do a first time meeting with Monkey King Reborn pls? I love ur work 💜💜

Monkey King Reborn: First Meeting.

Content/Trigger Warnings: N/A.

Authors Notes: It's shit like this that'll make me cry. Thank you so much, and thanks for the request! Decided to make this a chubbyfemale!reader Reborn Wukong. Hope you don't mind.

Master List | Next--->

The council couldn't have chosen anyone else? Why'd you have to get dragged in with the monk to get whatever it was he was sent for? No, no, better question, COULDN'T THEY HAVE TOLD YOU THAT BEFORE HE LEFT?! Now you were on a journey alone to try to catch up with the monk that had four days ahead of you, so that was proving… tiresome. 

“How far can a monk get in just four days?” you grumbled to yourself as you tucked some of your (h/c) hair behind your ear to get it out of your face.

You'd spent two days trying to catch up to the monk, but it was proving to be a tedious task. Of course, you weren't going to give up, the higher-ups would tear you a new one if you gave up on the mission they ‘blessed’ you with. So, you marched on, asked around and tried to keep your head up.

You tried to think of the bright sides… Well, the only one you could really think of was finally getting out of that temple and away from those people. The fresh air was nice, but the endless walking wasn't what you were expecting when you were told you had a mission.

“Wait, is that them?” you thought to yourself aloud when you saw a group up ahead. You didn't know who the monk was supposed to be accompanied by, but you’d recognize him anywhere. 

Finally! You thought to yourself as you willed your body into a jog, holding your chest as you did so it didn't bounce too much.

“Wait!” you tried to get their attention, which worked faster than you thought it would. When you finally caught up to them, you were breathing heavily and barely able to catch your breath. You were met with a stick in your face.

“Who are you?” who you recognized as the Monkey King questioned in a growl.

“Lady (Y/n)?” the monk surprisingly recognized you, making the monkey stand down. Once they’d settled, you introduced yourself to the four demons the monk had travelling with him.

Why does he need me if he has the four of them? You thought to yourself in annoyance. 

“(Y/n) (L/n), I was sent to accompany you on your journey to the West to collect the Buddhist scriptures,”

“Forget it,” Wukong said almost immediately.

“Excuse me?” you looked at the demon who spoke as he eyed you as well with a raised brow. 

“I said no,” he said. 

“I wasn't asking your permission,” you stated.

“Wukong,” the monk chastised. “Forgive him, lady (Y/n),” the monk bowed in respect. 

“It’s just (Y/n),” you told him. “I was sent to join you in your journey to the West, and that is what I plan to do,”

“Forget it,” ‘Wukong’ repeated sternly.

“Wukong,” 

“I wasn't asking your permission,” you repeated as well.

“You can go back to whatever temple you came from. We already have two weights, we don't need another,”

“Did you just call me fat to my face?” you raised a brow. His eyes widened slightly, and he snarled in your face, his breath smelling of fruit.  

“You know that's not what I meant!” he snapped.

“Hm,” you folded your arms and closed your eyes as you let out a heavy and defeated sigh. This could only be handled one way. “Since I'm such a heavy burden for you to bear, I’ll go,” you said simply and turned on your heel before starting to walk off.

“Wukong,” Tang said in a warning tone.

“Master, we don't need anyone else travelling with us,” he tried to persuade his master against letting you join.

“She has already come all this way on direct orders. She will be joining us, go apologize to her at once,” Tang ordered, making him groan, but follow behind you. 

“Hey, sh- girl,” he called as he walked beside you.

“Come to call me short as well?” you glanced at him. He glared at you, mostly because he was going to call you shorty instead of girl. “You wanted something?” you raised a brow as you eyed the… fairly attractive specimen before you.

“I'm…” he physically struggled to speak. 

“You're…?” you encouraged him to continue, wanting to hear him say it. 

“Sorry…” he said, very strained and soft.

“Pardon?” you tilted your head a bit. It's not that you didn't hear him, you heard him loud and clear… you just wanted to make him suffer for indirectly calling you short and fat. You didn't deserve to be called out like that by someone like him.

“I said I'm sorry, alright?!” he snapped, which surprised you.

“Kay,” you rubbed your chin and bottom lip to feel you were smirking. “I was taught that any man willing to put aside his pride to apologize deserves forgiveness, so your apology is accepted,”

“Now that we’re past that, let’s go,”

“Oh?” that smirk still playing on your lips that irked him.

“Your masters told you to join us, didn't they? Let's.go.” he seethed, much to your amusement.

I like this one… you thought to yourself in amusement.

“Right,” you nodded and simply followed behind him. “What was your name again?” you questioned from behind him, trying to remember what the monk had called him.

“Sun Wukong,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Right, right. The so-called Monkey and Demon King, the ‘Great Sage Equal to Heaven’. Your mess with the Jade Emperor was a cleaning job for lesser deities like me, so thanks for that.”

“Any time,” it was his turn to smirk at you, which of course irked you.

“What possessed you to do such a thing anyway?” you questioned as you walked beside him, but the only response you got was a huff.

“There they are,” you looked ahead to see the other three approaching. 

“Please forgive my-”

“It’s alright,” you cut him off as you traced your bottom lip slightly. “We have a long journey, let’s get moving.”

“Yes, of course,” the monk agreed with an amused smile.

The other three demons had introduced themselves to you. The pig, Zhu Bajie or ‘Pigsy’, was ‘trying his hand’ with you, much to your disgust. Luckily, Wukong pulled him away from you by his ear and said that you weren't interested, which you definitely weren't, but you thought speaking your mind might be a bit hurtful.

All in all… this trip was already shaping up to be a trip to remember. For better or worse? Well, that was still a work in progress.

[suzukiblu]

Excerpt from the next chapter of "think pink", a.k.a "Kon meets pink kryptonite and decides to fuck Tim and his boyfriend about it":

Kon flies into Gotham as surreptitiously as possible, meaning "as thoroughly concealed by the smog and cloud cover as possible", which given the amount of smog and cloud cover usually works out pretty well for him. Today's definitely no less cloudy than usual, and he's landing in the marina in no time. Well–specifically, he's landing in a subtle little out-of-the-way corner of the marina that Tim's previously pointed out to him where his neighbors probably won't notice either a Superboy or a Wonder Girl coming down.

Probably.

Eh, it's whatever. If they notice, Kon'll handle it. Not like he's not used to lying to Gothamites about what the fuck he's doing in their city and why they shouldn't flip the Batsignal over it, after all.

Not that said lies always keep the Batsignal from getting flipped, but still. It's been like fifty-fifty.

Well, sixty-forty . . . ?

Maybe seventy-thirty.

Kon waits 'til nobody's immediately around and super-speeds his ass across the dock to Tim's houseboat. There's an unnecessary amount of security on the thing because Tim is a paranoid little freak and a half and every single Bat alive is literally made of trust issues, but he already knows there's nothing that'll clock him on the deck. Well, nothing aggressive, anyway.

This ain't his first Bat-rodeo, and all that.

He punches in the code for the lock on the door, and the code for the other lock on the door, and the code that'll keep the needles covered in neurotoxin from spraying into his face when he opens said door. They wouldn't actually hurt him, obviously, but Tim would get annoyed if he wasted them.

He seriously wonders how the guy was ever under the impression that Bernard didn't know he was a superhero, but he guesses it's possible Tim assumed his boytoy thought he was, like, somebody's evil henchman or a merc or something.

Or just literally insane. Whichever.

And it is Gotham.

The door swings open, Kon very carefully steps on the correct floorboard, and then he slips inside and heads down into the bowels of the boat, or whatever the inside of a houseboat is called. It's a little cluttered down here but not quite a mess, and Kon's been here as many times as Tim's been willing to let him come but still not nearly often enough.

He has an odd, random thought of just staying, for once, and isn't quite sure where it came from. Which–well, he's staying for the weekend at least, right? Assuming the world doesn't try to end again, anyway.

So maybe not so random.

Sometimes Kon really does want to just hang in Gotham with Tim until Batman runs him out of town, but he never pushes it that far. He doesn't want to deal with that fallout or with Tim coming up to him to tell him he's being too much or too needy or just fucking weird or . . .

Yeah. Well.

Kon cracks into Tim's fridge and steals a can of Zesti. He's a little more of a Soder guy, at least lately, but it tastes better coming out of Tim's fridge anyway. It makes him feel kind of like a normal guy who just goes over to his normal buddies' places to do normal things–whatever those are–and has normal permission to just rifle through their normal food and take whatever.

Technically Kon has permission, in the sense that Tim's never rigged the Zesti to explode in his face, but he's never actually explicitly asked. He wasn't really sure if that was one of those things that normal people ask or one of those things that normal people just do, and now it's a little late to check, so . . .

Kon's life experience has been fucking weird and wildly varied and stupidly fragmented and generally speaking he just begs forgiveness rather than ever ask permission. He's a grown-ass clone, he can do that.

Okay, he's technically only physiologically a grown-ass clone but also he's arguably over a thousand years old, or maybe more like four or five, so whatever. Being a superclone is weird and confusing and his point stands.

Kon sips his stolen Zesti and wanders around the boat, idly avoiding assorted traps and tripwires. He doesn't go into the bedroom, although it's kinda tempting to just go wait in there, possibly without the company of any of his clothes.

He wants to talk to Tim at least a bit before they go full long weekend on this situation, though, and also like . . . meet Bernard as an actual person and not just a voice over the phone or that one random disgustingly cute couple-selfie that Tim had very dorkily and shyly and grudgingly shared in the group chat the last time Bart had actually won a bet against him.

That stupid selfie was adorable. Kon had absolutely saved it and is not a weirdo who just randomly looks at it sometimes. There's a lot of stuff like that on his phone, alright, he's got a whole folder of "shit to look at when the world sucks". Most of it's Krypto being dumb and sweet or the team messing around and being silly together or stuff like that. The one disgustingly cute Tim and Bernard selfie is a mere footnote in that folder.

But it is in that folder.

Like . . . of course it is.

Kon thinks about pulling out his phone and looking at that picture again. He's aware it's a weird thought to be having right now, though, so he doesn't act on it. Kon operates on instinct a lot but he doesn't necessarily trust all his instincts, given his thoroughly fucked up socialization experience and random mind control triggers and the biological influence of a certain gene donor who shall not be named.

Kon hears a pair of accelerated heartbeats approach the boat and feels two people step onto and hurry across the deck above, one's footsteps significantly louder than the other's. He hears a lot of buttons get pushed. Then the door at the top of the stairs yanks open and he glances towards it. Either Tim or a very convincing evil doppelganger of Tim is standing framed in the doorway, looking very slightly flustered and just barely winded. Bernard is clustered up behind him and laughing, and much more winded himself.

Well, that's flattering.

"Hey there," Kon says, and grins up at them.

"We need to establish boundaries, hard no's, and safewords," Tim says immediately, absolute freak that he is. Kon is not even slightly surprised.

"God, you really do just look like that, huh," Bernard marvels, his eyebrows shooting up. He's even cuter when he's not being a cell phone pic, and especially cuter when Kon's being gay. Unsurprisingly, Kon figures. "I always assumed a whole lot of really skilled Photoshop was involved in you. Or at least a whole lot of real good makeup and real precise angles."

"He's annoyingly photogenic, actually, you don't even have to try to make him look good," Tim informs him resignedly. "So you can imagine how he looks when you do try."

"That's a terrifying thought, actually," Bernard says approvingly.

"Safewords, huh?" Kon says as he sets aside his mostly-empty Zesti, not even pretending not to be preening under the compliments. So he's easy; at least he's self-aware. "That sounds promising."

"You were talking about some guy putting you in a collar and keeping you as a pet," Tim says flatly. "We definitely need safewords, I might get carried away."

"Promises, promises," Kon hums, tucking his hands into his jacket pockets and sauntering towards the bottom of the stairs with a wolfish grin that he may or may not have learned from an actual wolf. Like, just speaking of certain beast-men that he's known and all. "I told you, I was feral then. You know I'll be a good boy for you, Rob."

"Ohhhhh we've sure gotten ourselves into something here, huh, babe," Bernard says with a delighted grin as Tim puts a hand over his face and just sort of . . . exhales in that one specific way that he does when it's all going to shit in a fight or on a mission and he just needs to steady himself for that one second before the doors blow in.

Kon likes that, he thinks.

He really likes that, actually.

[abarbaricyalp]

Since the original post about the line has been going around, I've been thinking about the "It's hard to find someone with shared life experience" line from Steve in The Winter Soldier.

Yes it sets up parallels between Steve and Bucky, whatever. I don't know that it was actually meant to do that. The viewer should understand without being told that Steve and Bucky have shared lived experience.

That scene has always struck me much more as establishing the relationship that Steve and SAM were going to have. The movie said Steve is searching for shared life experience and then plops Sam down in front of him like, okay, here!

(Reckless) Military man part of experimental technology? ✅️

Lost your best friend during a military mission right in front of you? ✅️

"All I had to do was hold on."

"It's like I was just up there to watch."

Displaced soldiers--out of time, out of service ✅️

Anti-authority 99% of the time ✅️

"The number of people giving me orders is down to...zero 😊"

"I'm not looking for forgiveness and I'm way past asking for permission."

(I mean, I could find these quotes all day)

Heart of gold and moral compass stronger than magnetic North? ✅️

"Not a perfect soldier, but a good man."

Fiercely loyal and natural born leader? ✅️

Specialized training used to protect people at great personal sacrifice? ✅️

"I do what he does, just slower."

Loss of family as affective but off-screen development? ✅️

Strong ties to one geographic location that shaped them? ✅️

"Home is home, y'know."

Sam's theme song is literally called Louisiana Hero

Ridiculous relationship with one James Bucky Barnes, who is understandably obsessed with each of them? ✅️

I mean, I just can't believe how tightly interwoven Steve and Sam's stories are. Of course Sam gets the shield. Of course he's Captain America. Of course he's Steve's best friend. THEY are each other's parallels. Sam is everything Captain America should be. He's everything Steve needed and wanted in a friend/partner/successor. I always think Sam was kind of the first breath of fresh air Steve got, the first time he felt less alone in the future. They're mirrors of each other. Someone they could reach recognize themselves in. It's such a beautiful relationship that Marvel should have done more with.

That line is always going to be a SamSteve line to me 🤷‍♀️

[sunny-mercya]

Cold Coffee

James Maguire x Male Reader

Fandom -> Derry Girls

Requested by -> Anon

Masterlist

The once streaming hot coffee mug—which was scorching when poured into the silly with faces of cartoon characters decorated grey coloured mug—had long gone cold in James hands, who didn't really drank from it anyways—only taking minimal sips from it—but not that he seemed to realise at all, too focused on the boy before him.

When James had strutted down the old creaky squeaky stairs of the [Surname] household, on such faithful sunday morning—having spend the whole weekend over at [Name]'s—and making his way into the crowded kitchen, he literally had thoughts—sending prayers to the Lord above—that he perhaps had died in sleep and this is now an afterlife looping dream.

Seeing you in your baggy oversized shirt—with another row of some cartoon characters printed on it—and the short, orange in colour, pyjama pants, just took James breath away for a moment of minute—making him sucking in a breath.

James had seeing you in many clothes before—from school uniforms, sportswear, daily wear, swimtrunks to even only clad in boxers and their white school shirt—which was because of Mrs.Quinn, who wanted some more dark clothes to wash and demand from the whole squad the uniforms without room for arguments—and he also had seeing you in these pyjamas the whole weekend.

It's just, maybe it's the sunlight—which peeked through the windows and slight open curtains—which makes you look so fairy like, James wasn't sure if that's the right word to use even, so breathtaking in his eyes—that he had to gulp.

»Jamesie! Goo' morning! Ya slept'a wella? I've make us some coffee, well actually'a Dad did, but I'mma put sugar cubes and milk in it'a so I do have helped.«

You gave James his mug of coffee, once he had taken a seat at the small kitchen table—saying a quiet thanks to you, which sounded more like a meek whisper and you couldn't help yourself but to tease him just a bit.

»Don'tcha be shy now, James, it'a after all just'a mere coffee« you said, chuckling a bit when seeing your boyfriends confused face and slight flushed cheeks.

»I ain't scared of some Coffee?« still James eyes the mug with caution—as the amount of sugar cubes in it, a few swimming on top, looked dangerously high of upcoming future diabetics.

»Behave ya two. I ain't wanna funny business from ya two under my roof.« the voice of your dad, who seemed to have appeared from nowhere, had spooked James just a bit.

Now, despite your dad—who James and the girls were allowed, more like granted permission, to call Francis—being 1.80 in height—having the body shape of either an professional boxer or dock worker and the appearance of a pup owner (he does have quite the tattoos and piercings and that certain kind of scowl)—and looking like some scary guy to be feared off, he's in actuality a friendly man.

»Giving wee smooches ain't funny business, dad.« your bottom lip jutted out, creating a slight pout—and James, asking internally for the Lords forgiveness of his sinful thoughts on such a holy sunday, really wants to kiss you now.

Francis had half a mind to tell his dear precious son, that those “wee smooches” are indeed counted as funny business—especially with when it comes to the english fella, his son is having as a boyfriend now—but decided against it, not wanting to upset [Name], knowing well how affectionate his son was.

So instead, Francis only raised his eyebrow and glared half heartedly in a joking manner at James, before taking a plate of pancakes and venturing into the livingroom.

~~~

When Michelle came over around the late afternoon, letting herself in with the spare key—she and the rest of the squad has gotten one, in terms of emergencies—to drag James back home—well her mother said he could stay till Monday morning, but Michelle needs her partner in crime for whatever Erin seemed to have planned tonight—she narrowed her eyes in motherly disappointment, once discovering James on the couch and with a sleeping [Name] on top of him.

»Ya really wanna get booted outta this household, don't you Jamesie?« Michelle hissed it annoyance, hands stemming onto her hips.

»Please, for the love of our Lord, explain what you mean with this, would you?« James annoyances spiked as well, coming out in a hushed whisper.

»You get all English handsy with [Nickname], don't corrupt him with your english gayness. Christ, if Francis see this, he banns you forever from this household.«

»[Nickname] has drank two whole mug of overdose sugary coffee and passed out on me as soon as we started to watch some Cartoons and that had been hours ago.«

»Oh. Well, that makes sense. Next time you tell me that sooner, asshat. By christ, was I worried there for a second.«

James looked at Michelle in disbelieving exhaustion, sometimes wondering why the girls are like this.

»Well, don't bother to come home tonight anyway. I'll tell Erin and the others you're making sure, [Name] doesn't collapse on the coffee. We're don't need ya ass anyway. Bye!«

Michelle was out of the house, before James could even think of a reply.

~~~

When you woke up some hours later, the first you did was smooching James faces with kisses over and over—getting up from him, stretching your body and proclaiming that it is time for pancakes now.

James face erupted into a shade of redness, when seeing your exposed belly and your kisses have ascended him into a putty mess beneath you.

»James?«

»Yeah?«

»I love ya«

And James thought, while replying you back—getting up from the couch himself and into the kitchen, kissing your cheek—that he too loves you, just how lucky he was to have you as his boyfriend.

And James also thinks, thanking the Lord sometimes for it, his mom leaving him in Derry—was the best thing to happen.

[euniexenoblade]

sorry fi your tired of hearing this but I was just curious about your views on cheating because I’m having trouble seeing the idea that cheating isn’t a big deal? Sorry if I’m misinterpreting you it’s just I would consider myself monogamous so I’m just curious on your point of view.

cheating is usually a symptom of a larger problem

in my experience, most people who cheat are women who are trapped in abusive relationships (of course there are men) and the abusers use the fact the other person cheats as this way to get the person excluded and isolated from support networks and friend groups ("i mean, you did cheat")

the previous has also been especially true with polyamorous people. i've known multiple people who realized they were poly and when they talked to their partners about either opening the relationship up or breaking up, the partner has gone full abusive to keep the monogamous relationship around, and when the relationship falls apart the abusive partner always accuses the poly person of cheating whether they did or not, which usually fucks up that persons friend groups. multiple people have related to this sentiment when i made my post about it, so it appears to not be rare.

i also feel like people care too much about other people's relationships. ive said it before, but people care too much about people they don't know who are in situations they dont know. they just hear someone cheated and it's instantly "CHEATERS DESERVE DEATH"

the knee jerk reactions to the concept of cheating is treated like it's worse than murder or rape. like, nuance and understanding does not seem to ever matter to people on the topic of cheating, it's always "cheating is always wrong" and "cheaters deserve death" or whatever.

i think it's really interesting how there's never nuance on this topic, the story telling trope of "woman gets trapped in an abusive marriage but finds love in another man when she leaves the house" is such a popular story archetype that gets told, not to mention it's a very real thing. not to mention the age old story of gay people realizing they're gay after they're married. do these gay people deserve death for hiding in societal norms of sexuality and pursuing their gay lives late in life?

yeah, not all cheaters are victims of abuse, there's misogynistic men and what not that do it. but in my experience, those are not the people that ever get their lives shit on for being cheaters. they get to live on and do their thing until a wakeup call.

and then, as always, i am polyamorous. i do not understand the concept of cheating as a whole. if my partner wants to go sleep with someone, that's neat. my husband goes on grindr dates with people i dont know and that's rad. happy for him. he doesn't need to ask for my permission. i do not own his body (well, maybe i do when kink is involved but i digress). i struggled with monogamous relationships since i was a tween, and i think a lot of people struggle the same ways and need to discover they don't need to be monogamous, and I don't feel comfortable demonizing people struggling with what society tells them is ok for a relationship.

I am not saying you can't be hurt. I am not saying you have to forgive a person cheating on you. But, also, not everyone is you, people don't deserve death for cheating, nuance needs to exist for the overall picture.

[imagine-darksiders]

Do you remember that one short fic you did with Draven trying to court y/n and asking Death for permission? The fic ends with Draven fantasizing about y/n and jerking off. I was curious, what does Samael fantasize about y/n? Like, what are his more explicit interests about y/n that he only thinks about in the privacy of his room?

Ah, why not. I have to admit Samael is growing on me so here's a little drabble I dashed out this afternoon.

Nsfw, suggestive content under the cut. Short. CW for Samael's imagination.

There are moments, in Samael's unending existence, that seem to be coming more and more frequently of late, moments that he's been growing less inclined to ignore as the days and weeks go by without a solution to a problem he never would have thought he'd be facing, not in ten thousand millennia...

The problem in question shares the name of a particular little human. Just one. Just one in eight billion that, by pure chance, happened to turn the head of a Prince of Hell.

It should be humiliating. It should be mortifying.

A demon of his stature, his power and age and wisdom, so preoccupied by a member of the Third Kingdom. Nothing but chance had made your path cross with his.

You were with that Horseman, Death, when Samael first laid eyes on you. He learned your name. He learned how you came to be the Nephilim's little companion in the quest to save your species. It had amused him, at the time, to imagine how furious Lilith would be when she discovered you were passively turning the Horseman's mind away from thoughts of resurrecting her beloved Nephilim. You likely didn't even realise the sway you held – and still hold – over the Council's terrible enforcers. You're powerful, and you have no idea, nor any apparent desire to exert that power. Samael has never been one to fixate on an individual, but over and over again, he started to find his head wandering back to thoughts of you – the valiant, little human who stumbled clumsily across the universe in Death's shadow and, against all odds, came out the other side in one piece.

A happy ending...

And then... Well, to put an Earth spin on it, everything had promptly snow-balled from there.

Nights like tonight are a regular occurrence. Blissfully alone, the demon prince, lounges with his forearms propped against satin pillows in his private chambers as one of his colossal, clawed hands delves beneath the sheets to seek out that private part of himself that only the very lucky few have ever laid eyes upon.

Sadly, in Samael's opinion, you have yet to become one of those lucky few.

He can nearly see you now, as vivid as a painting in his mind's eye, laying prone and tiny at the centre of his bed in a dress so white that he could swear you shine against the rich, scarlet sheets.

Oh, if you only knew how well a demon like Samael could take care of you. You would want for nothing. He'd give you riches beyond anything another human could dream of. Diamonds, pearls, emeralds, whatever your little heart desires.

Sometimes, in the privacy of his own thoughts, the demon prince finds himself wondering what a little gentleness might be like. Despite appearances, he's not a masochist – not like she is.

What if, instead of raking claws and needle-like teeth marring his scaly flesh, you instead introduce him to soft fingertips that could stroke soothing lines down the column of his throat as he presses his muzzle into your hair?

He'd swallow against the palm of your hand and feel it rise and fall in an undulating wave, perhaps even catch a shudder from you when you register the raw power that lies behind even that small, insignificant action. Would you be afraid? Maybe, in the beginning. But Samael would forgive you a little trepidation. After all, how could you have any idea the lengths he'd go to prove that he isn't a clumsy, callous brute incapable of controlling himself during that most primal of indulgences? He wants you to trust him. He wouldn't do a thing if you asked him not to. Humans have words they use, don't they? Words that shut down a situation if things are getting a bit too... much behind closed doors? Words of safety...

Samael would go to great lengths to ensure you never even come close to uttering your preferred words. He'd stop, over and over again, and each time, a little piece of your trepidation would chip away until any last, lingering seeds of doubt are utterly purged from your mind.

Samael knows you'd be so gentle with him too, even without trying to be. He's too large, and you're far too small and fragile to wound him when your hands scrabble for purchase on his twisting horns as he dips his colossal face into the sacred space between your legs. Humans are meticulous beasts in habit, and it would be a delectable change to nudge his nose in close and inhale the scent of a clean, tender area that not even your precious Horsemen have been privy to.

Once, he'd been lucky enough to arrive outside your bedroom where his senses were promptly soothed by the hot, rolling waves of steam that wafted out through the open window and into his flaring nostrils. Enraptured, he'd watched on in silence as you emerged like a vision from that tiny room you use for bathing, wearing little else but a fluffy, red towel that hangs scandalously low on your chest, and rises in a daring tease to a spot just above the centre of your thighs.

The steam followed after you, drifting across the bedroom and out to the demon waiting just beyond the foggy glass. He caught the scent of fruit, something Earthen in origin, unknown to his palette but recognisably delicious all the same.

It wasn't long before his rough, pointed tongue slipped out and lapped at the warm sweat gathering above his lip. He might've imagined that's what your skin would taste of, if you'd ever let him near enough to savour a lick.

In the lonely silence of his own bedchambers, those tantalising memories of your soaps and shampoos on the air are the closest thing he has to a reference. He calls upon them unashamedly as he squeezes his eyes shut, sinks his fangs into his bottom lip and grunts, his tongue undulating against the back of his teeth in the same, coaxing licks he plans on using someday to ease your trembling legs apart.

The demon's chest rumbles soothingly to the empty air, a sound borne of instinct to comfort a lover who isn't there...

[batsplat]

Going back to the Italians, while it's true that sometimes I get annoyed with their insistence when they come and hunt me down, I recognise that it's partly because of me and the way I am. I am the kind of person who puts others at ease, who makes them feel like we've known each other for years. They think we're friends, that we can laugh and joke together as soon as we meet. Because Italians love doing this. So everybody thinks they know me well. Nobody approaches me with a degree of detachment. When they see me they want to hug me, grab me, touch me, squeeze me. There are all sorts of "types". There's the guy to whom it would never occur that maybe you don't feel like laughing and joking at precisely that moment. No, he appears and does his little shtick, one question after another, telling you things you never asked to hear. Then there is the worrier, who usually wants to come and sit down next to you, asking you how the bike is, the one who really cares about the standings, the opponents, who gives me all sorts of advice on how to ride in the next race. There's the sensationalist, the one who runs over as soon as he sees you. He hugs you, grabs you, pins you down and then calls his friends who arrive by the dozens and repeat the same routine. The souvenir hunter makes me feel like an animal in the zoo. He observes me, he photographs me from a nearby table or from the sidewalk. Ever since somebody had the bright idea of putting cameras in mobile phones, my life has changed, and not necessarily for the better: there is no such thing as privacy any more, ever. Anyone can spy on you, take your picture or even shoot a video of you. I truly loathe this, because the mobile-phone-camera maniacs have no compunction about stopping you, passing the phone around among themselves and snapping away from every conceivable angle in every conceivable pose. They don't ask permission. And, if they do, and you say "No", they just go and take your picture anyway, perhaps doing it secretly, which I believe is worse. The disrespectful type has no idea what privacy is. He'll come right up to you when you're at dinner with friends, or on a date, without thinking you might need some time to yourself once in a while. There's the moraliser, who comes up to you, interrupts whatever it is you're doing, puts his hand on your shoulder and says: "Goodness, you sure lead a nice life, you make all this money, you do fuck all and you get to travel all over the world! Life is good, isn't it?" And finally, there's the jealous one and here you have to be very careful, because it takes only a split second for an Italian to turn you from God to Satan in their minds. And if they change their minds about you, they're very unlikely to forgive. Having said that, when the Italians love you, they really love you. They transmit so much warmth, they really make you feel special. And that's why I always try to do something a little different at, say, the Italian Grand Prix. And that's why I still love my countrymen. It's just that I wish they were a little more polite.

Valentino Rossi in his 2005 autobiography, What if I had never tried it

[blueisquitetired]

The Birth of a Shadow

Context for this one: This was the originally planned chapter 15 that….. obviously didn’t work out. The original conceit was that Emmet was having trouble using magic, so he had to dive through his brother’s memories to learn what it felt like. It was supposed to be a journey backwards in time, featuring different times of Ingo’s life before he met Emmet.

Unfortunately, that didn’t really work out, and I ended up cutting the whole thing. We didn’t lose too much in the process, just the exact specifics of Ingo’s past and an explanation for his beef with moms. 

So yeah, here’s what got written out, featuring Ingo’s origin story and a tone that really doesn’t match the rest of the fic.

Length: 2,000 words

Rating: G 

CW: Child endangerment? I guess???

Deep breathes. In and out. Reach inside and-

Opening his eyes, Emmet threw out one of his hands, attempting to channel some unknowable energy. 

Nothing happened.

“Any luck?”

Mai sat on the grass next to him, idly plucking strings on her guitar. This was his third day of magic lessons with her and so far….

“No. Nothing.”

Sighing, Emmet lay down on the grass next to her, looking up at the bright blue sky. At least it was a nice day.

“Maybe it did work, but you just didn’t notice?” Lady Sneasler was sitting a bit away with the rest of the peanut gallery. Not close enough to get in the way, but still easily reachable. “It’s supposed to be kind of subtle right?”

“He would feel it. Probably.” Mai sighed. “At least that’s how it works for me.”

“Right. Because that’s been such a good indicator so far.” It was Melli who spoke this time, the warden having joined the group to help Elesa with her embroidery and just enjoy the show. Emmet was starting to understand why Lady Sneasler didn’t like him much.

Still, he had a point. As much as Emmet appreciated Mai’s assistance, one just couldn’t escape the fact that their magics were completely different. Mai’s were nature spells cast via music, and Emmet’s…

Well it certainly wasn't that.

“Well, does Ingo feel his magic when he casts it?” Mai asked, bringing the group back on track. “His magic would certainly be more similar to yours than mine.”

“Not sure.” Shrugging, Emmet tried to remember times that his brother had used magic- and came up frustratingly short. “He does not like using it. Or talking about it.”

“Too bad.” Mai sighed. “That would have been helpful.”

“Hang on.” Elesa finally spoke up, having been far too concentrated on her embroidery to join in the conversation so far. “Didn’t you say you had Ingo’s memories? Doesn’t that mean you can learn straight from the source? Maybe even figure out how he learned magic originally?”

“Wait what do you mean he has his memories-”

That…. was a good point actually. Emmet had been kind of avoiding touching that part of his psyche at the moment, but there weren't any actual barriers. Still, he was still sort of… put off by the idea.

“Those are private.” He managed finally, working around the bitter taste in his mouth. “I have not received permission. Snooping is a breach of trust.”

“Normally yeah, but this isn’t exactly a normal situation.” Pointed out Lady Sneasler. “You’ll need to be prepared for whatever comes our way. I think Ingo will forgive you for a bit of snooping if it helps save his life.”

“I suppose…”

It still didn’t sit right with Emmet. Sure, they could read each other’s minds whenever they wanted- but that didn’t mean they did! Boundaries were important, and privacy was to be respected. Still, Lady Sneasler was right that this was a special situation….

“….alright.” Taking a deep breath, Emmet attempted to calm his racing heart. “I will look through Ingo’s memories. Try to find out how magic feels. Or how he learned it.”

“Attaboy!” Lady Sneasler grinned. 

Mai seemed a bit more skeptical.

“So how exactly does that… work?”

Emmet shrugged.

“It is like meditation? Kind of? I close my eyes and….” He let out a deep breath and closed his eyes, going boneless. “This will take a while.”

“How long is a while?”

But Emmet didn’t answer, already beginning to tune the rest of the world out and sink into his own subconscious. Carefully, he reached for his brother’s soul, embracing it and sinking into his brother’s memories. He wasn’t exactly sure where to start- memories had a tendency to be a bit finicky after all, but if he just started somewhere familiar and worked his way back….

He thought of the first time they met, an old and messy memory colored by time and his subpar human recollection, only still around because of how many times he’d watched his brother’s version.

A version that was responding to the memory he had fed it, sparking up around him and begging to be recalled.

So he let it.

oOo

Someone was crying.

The monster stopped and listened for a moment, the sound of soft sniffles and a human in distress. It really shouldn’t get any closer, shouldn’t approach, especially not after last time- but there was crying! Crying was something it knew well, and if it could help…

Maybe it could assist from the shadows. As long as it wasn’t seen, there would be no reason for the human too….

This time would be different.

It followed the sound.

As much as Emmet would love to relive that particular memory again, now wasn’t the time. Instead, he honed in on that mention of “last time” pulling on it and looking for the related memory. It wasn’t hard to find.

oOo

[This section would contain several scenes from Ingo’s past in reverse order. This would include him disguising himself as another child and getting run off for being a duplicate, trying to take a human form and not doing a very good job (and getting run off), and him visiting Hisui and having a bad time.]

oOo

First, there was nothing.

Not pain, or sorrow, or even emptiness- no, there was just nothing at all.

And then-

“Oh. It’s beautiful.”

There was something.

A… a face? Yes. A face. A… a red face who was…

“Dude it just looks like a blob with eyes.”

A different voice. A different person? Yes, there they were, behind the face-

“That’s just because you can’t appreciate the sheer craftsmanship on display here.” The face moved, getting taller and… further? Further away. (From what?)

“Sure. Whatever. But does it work?”

“Of course it works! I made it after all!”

“…so you haven’t tested it yet.”

“What’s the point of a test? It’s a changeling. They aren’t complicated.”

There was a conversation happening. That’s what this was. Understanding was… difficult, but possible. The whole thing was quite alien overall.

“Anyway, I’m releasing this bad boy today. You wanna see?”

“Sure I guess. Don’t have anything else planned.”

The face came back(?) bending forward and-

SENSATION!!!!

THERE WAS TOUCH HAPPENING!!!

WHAT?!!!

And with touch came feelings!!! Pride and confidence and-

“Huh. It’s being more squirmy than normal.”

Squirmy? Movement? Was something moving?

“Maybe cause you finished it? So it’s ‘coming to life’ and all that?”

“Yeah maybe. Let’s get going before it gets harder to carry.”

And then.

AND THEN.

Movement! Lots of movement! The squirmy apparently! So much movement and things that had names but there was no time to ponder such things as MOVEMENT WAS HAPPENING.

And then movement stopped happening.

And everything was dark.

“This place good?”

“I think so. I checked out a few houses beforehand and this one had a baby.”

“Cool.”

Movement started up again, going a bit before-

THE TOUCH WAS GONE!!!!

Where did it go?!!!

“Now what?”

“It’s supposed to eat the baby.”

“….maybe you need to move it closer?”

The touch returned briefly…. before disappearing again, replaced by-

Different touch?

Calm touch. Sleepy touch. Touch full of dreams, muted sensations of lightssoundscolorsemotions. Touch that-

There was hunger.

Hunger. Hunger. Hunger.

And emptiness. Something that needed to be filled. Something that could be filled if- if-

If there was eating.

And so there would be eating. There would be devouring. There would be biting and tearing and-

yes

YES!

Yes! There was taste, there was warmth! There was energy and magic and-

PAIN

Pain that caused screaming, pain that caused crying. Pain that was more intense than hunger or pride. Pain that encompassed all else and-

Light.

“Yes yes Johny. Mommy’s here. Now what’s got you so-”

A sharp gasp, thudding footsteps and-

“GET OFF MY BABY!”

Touch. But not gentle touch- rough touch. Pulling and grabbing and flinging. Flying before impact, new fresher pain as-

New impact. New pain. New-

This was danger.

Danger. Danger! Pain meant danger and there was so much pain, so there was so much danger but how was-

And then something happened.

Something happened and suddenly the shadows reached out, sweeping in and pulling out of danger. 

The shadows were gentle. Calm. Quiet and dark and-

Grabbing, pulling, RIPPING and angerangerANGER

“What was THAT!?”

There was laughing.

“I believe that’s what we call a failure Alimar.”

“Shut up. Shut up. This is just- just a slight hiccup. We can just try again.”

Try what again? Why was there anger? Why was there failure? Was it the danger?

And why was the pain still there?

Movement. More. Movement that made the pain stronger. Movement that pulled at somethings. Somethings that could be felt. Somethings that could be moved.

“Stop squirming.”

That wasn’t the only somethings. There was more! More somethings that could also be moved. Easier even, since the voice was not holding them. They could be moved, and they were moved because it was fun and made the pain less noticeable. Oh! Fun! That was new!

“What in Titania’s name has gotten into you?!”

More yanking. The face was back! But it was dark. Because it was night. Strange. Night. Had night existed before? What was night?

“Looks like yelling at it worked.”

“Yeah I guess.”

Night was something that came after day. But day came after night. That didn’t make sense. How could it come before and after?

“Okay. Here’s a new place. Let’s try this again.”

That was how time worked right? Yes, day and night were based off of time. Which was. Harder to understand then day and night combined.

The touch that hurt was gone and the somethings were dropped. They were dropped and-

Huh.

They felt.

The somethings were moved, and where they moved they felt. The feeling was soft. Soft because it was a blanket. That’s what it was. 

“Eat the ####ing baby already.”

The somethings were- they were tendrils? Yes. That’s what they were. The tendrils moved and felt and they felt each other and oh! That was not soft! That was… smooth! Smooth! And both tendrils could feel the other tendril and wasn’t that strange. What were tendrils anyway?

…limbs? Right. And limbs were… uh. They were attached to something alive! And they could do things! 

Obviously. They could move and feel.

But what were they attached to?

“….What is it doing?”

“UGH.”

Touch again! Not good touch!! But! There were more tendrils! More! And they were attached to-

Uh-

“Dude I don’t even think it sees the baby.” 

“Yeah I noticed.”

Actually, what was ‘it’ anyway? There was the human baby- but that couldn’t be ‘it’. And the blankets could not see so. Maybe the tendrils? They were attached to something alive, and if it was alive it could probably see!

But what were they attached to???

They were- They-

???????

No seriously what were they attached to.

There was hunger.

Yes but the tendrils!

Hunger.

The tendrils lead to something but that something did not exist but it could be felt which meant it did exist-

Wait.

Was that seeing?

Hunger

If seeing was happening then seeing was ‘it’ and the tendrils were attached to the it (which was seeing) and seeing happened with eyes that could be moved-

MORE MOVEMENT!

Hungerhungerhungerhunger

Movement that changed seeing!! Yes! Good! Good! That was-

Pride! Pride for figuring it out! Pride for-

hunger

Okay okay hunger. Hunger which meant movement which meant-

What was that?

“…is it broken?”

New thing to move!!! It could be moved and it moved a lot and how many more movement-

HUNGER

Right, right, okay. Movement again which was biting and biting on the baby which brought warmgoodenergymagiclife- AND PAIN AND CRYING!!!

PAIN AND CRYING MEANT DANGER!!! DANGER MEANT SHADOWS AND LEAVE AND AWAY!!!

“Wha- hey where’d it go?!”

“#### it shadow sneaked again. I have to catch it before it-”

NOPE!!

IT WOULD NOT BE GRABBED!

GRABBED WAS PAIN AND PAIN WAS BAD AND IT DID NOT WANT THAT!

“Come back here you little-!”

The shadows pulled it far away. Far far away.

Where it would be safe.