#he was an unintentional muse funny enough

[smashwolfen]

Pretty late in the evening but apparently, it's Ingo day in japan?? Been seeing lotta Ingos in my feed and I just so happened to have been messing with the man in my sketchbook this whole week on and off XD

Man with receding hairline decides to grow out a damn silver mane to deal with the cold, also featuring the pre-eeby look I imagine him as, and his canon short asf haircut thats tucked away down there in the corner

We love and appreciate the balding Ingo (Bingo) in this house!!!

[gu6chan]

i really love caim in drakengard's FMVs because for a man with that much hate and rage in his heart he really doesn't look like he knows what's going on half the time

[shukakumoodboard]

HELLO 👋 I would like to know about (in any order that excites youuuuu)

Love (As Told Through the Medium of Last- Minute Grocery Lists)

Mercury Retrograde

AND/OR

Thread of deepest scarlet, heart of shining pearl

And TGOD obvi if you're not burnt out by that one lol no pressure for replying about them ALL but I'm here for the excited yapping. 👉😎👉

*waiting menacingly*

omg hello winkwonk

i can do these in order -- under the cut because i'm about to Talk For Tew Damn Long

mercury retrograde

ok mercury retrograde is a fic based on a really goofy premise called "what if i shit on all the canon pairings at once?" via the medium of gaalee fanfic. it's essentially a story told from all of the other konoha 12 POVs where everyone on earth is having relationship (or pining) problems except, apparently, gaara and lee, who (in the POV of non-overlapping people, so no one makes the connection) seem to have secret paramours that are perfect for them hooHA. some start pairs include sasusaku, naruhina, and inosai, and end pairs being sns, inosaku, kibahina, etc. shikatema and chokarui stick the landing but. i like them well enough xo

basically a fix it fic for all the endgame pairs As According To Gospel Me

behold! a snippetteptpetptp

Damn it, not only was her love life awful, but the weather was, too, and she didn’t have an umbrella! What was up with this week? Mercury must be in retrograde or something, she mused, slouching against the bark of the tree at the edge of training field one. She’d have to ask Tenten, she was an astrology nut, she’d know for certain. “Ino-san, what are you doing out here by yourself, it is raining!” Ino looked off to the side to find her unexpected hero of the hour, one Rock Lee, clutching a scroll to his chest with an umbrella in hand. “Suffering,” she said. “Oh dear. Is there any way I can help?” “Actually,” Ino said, eyeing the umbrella, “are you heading towards town? I didn’t know it was going to rain.” “I am!” Lee said, and held out the umbrella. Ino slid out from under the tree and joined him. They started walking, Lee asking polite questions about her day while Ino scrounged for a more interesting topic. Maybe she could use this moment to answer the questions Sakura had posed a few days ago? Her eyes settled on the scroll Lee held, his grip tighter on the still-rolled paper than Choji’s grip on his beloved chip bags. “What’cha got there?” Lee turned a brilliant pink and smiled hugely. “It is a letter from my precious one!” “Oh, who!?” Ino cried, hamming it up, just a little bit. She was curious. “That,” he said very seriously, “is a secret.”

Love (As Told Through the Medium of Last- Minute Grocery Lists)

so this one is the fic i've started to create for my FTH 2024 bid winner @chinesefirethorn <3

it's a series of alternating POVs developing a gaalee relationship through unintentional dates which are actually just various gaalees having to run errands -> inspired, actually, by the fact my partner, the colloquially-christened-by-gaalee-discord mr. bread, tells me every time we have to do long distance that he misses going grocery shopping with me. which is like. how dare u make me feel romantic about feckin' woolies actually. no snippets for this one but here's the extant tag list:

clown-to-clown communication

Grocery Store (Romantic)

5+1 Things or similar

Food as a metaphor for love

Gardening also as a metaphor for love

Tooth-Rotting Fluff, and

scenes of domestic bliss

note: currently this one is on hold because reg has been offline for a while and i want to write this one for her when she's around again so it's tailored to her. reg come back i miss u

thread of deepest scarlet, heart of shining pearl

allow me to redirect you to this post where i unloaded about it

The Grapes of Debauchery

tgod my goode friend tgod, u are my brainchild and the bane of my existence rn. before i even begin to talk about tgod u must observe this hysterically funny advertisement post by @rkaln because i think about it every day

ok tgod. up next, thank thine lordt, is the long awaited sober winkwonk time chapter god Bless what has taken me so long it's the doctorate whyd i do that to myself we shall neber knwo

but i can tell you what i will deliver, and that is: Virgins Being Awkward In The Sack. none of this red face fanning self smut no this is pure cringefail shenanigans you're gonna get home grown baby not outsourced man directly from the kitchen table at my house you want it we got it guaranteed

gaara says "raw dog" out loud. the condoms are expired. lee nuts too early and panics about it. gaara's hungover. both of them WILL cry at some point. they've non-startered three times even im getting annoyed and im the author. just boink you clowns

here's a snippet from the next chapter, which is titled, to my absolute delight, Will You Two Please Just Drink Some F*cking Water:

Gaara stood and crowded into Lee’s space while he riffled through the drawer and yanked out a small, brightly coloured tube. “Lee, these are expired.” “Ex—huh?” Lee took the box and squinted at the date. Then he looked up, horrified. “I did not know they expired! I can um, go get—” “I don’t care,” Gaara said, taking the small bottle the lube Lee held from him. “I haven’t had sex with anyone, so unless you have some sort of genital illness—” “I do not!” Lee’s shout rattled the windows. Gaara winced.

truly i have achieved the pinnacle of yammertime, if ur still here holy sgat u are devoted and i lov u

[shion-yu]

Day 24: Tales from the Waiting Room

1,855 words for @sicktember - this prompt was announced months ago and man, I had so much muse I wrote it immediately. Ft. college Cliff and Elliot being good boyfriends. CW: blood mention thanks to unintentional stabbing.

Cliff’s fear of hospitals and their associated needles is strong enough that Elliot’s seen him refuse to go with a 104 fever. But the day he drops a knife into his foot while slicing corn off the cob for their salad is the first and only time Elliot ever hears him say, “Can you take me to the hospital?”

The way Cliff says this is so eerily calm that Elliot’s not sure if he would have been more scared if Cliff had just screamed bloody murder like a normal person. Which would have been totally valid, based on the knife that’s currently, literally sticking out of his foot. 

“Holy shit,” Elliot gasps, ten times less calm than his stabbed boyfriend. “Oh my god!”

“It’s fine, just, call a cab,” Cliff says. He isn’t moving at all, frozen in place and his face suddenly several shades paler than it was seconds prior. “And toss me that towel…”

Elliot thinks tossing the towel seems a bit too casual. Instead he attempts to wrap Cliff’s foot with several towels while keeping the knife in place as he’d learned in first aid class. Unfortunately, “keep the knife in place” proves to be a far more difficult task than they made it sound and he unintentionally dislodges it. A cartoonish spurt of blood sprays upward from Cliff’s food and the knife clatters next to him.

The way Elliot screams while slapping the towel on top of Cliff’s foot is almost comical, and they’ll laugh about it later. But at the moment it’s really not funny and it also attracts the attention of another student passing by the shared dorm kitchen, who also yells and immediately calls 911. So now it’s a whole big thing and Cliff is looking annoyed and questionably conscious as he sits on the porcelain kitchen floor and presses a towel to the top of his foot. 

“Um, you’re gonna be okay,” Elliot tries to reassure him.

“I know, are you gonna be okay?” Cliff asks dryly. Elliot has tears streaming down his cheeks and lets out a hysterical sob. Cliff thinks at least one of them is calm, although it has a lot to do with the fact that he’s feeling really numb right now.

An ambulance comes quickly, two EMTs quickly led in by the RA. They ask Cliff a few brief questions, staunch the bleeding and load him into the ambulance. “This is super unnecessary,” Cliff says. “My roommate called a cab.” 

“No I didn’t, don’t listen to him,” Elliot says quickly. Cliff shoots him a look of annoyance and Elliot doesn’t even blink. He frankly does not care about Cliff’s attitude right now. He dashes to their dorm room to grab their wallets with Cliff’s ID and insurance card inside, and then they’re off. No lights or sirens, but Cliff knows the entire dorm is probably watching him through their windows right now. He’s never gonna live this down. 

For once, Cliff doesn’t faint when he gets an IV on the way there, although that probably has to do with being thoroughly impaled already. He’s feeling dizzier as the rush of adrenaline wears off, and apparently his vitals show that because they seem to move a little faster after he throws up into a bin that’s very hastily shoved underneath his chin by the experienced EMT. 

“Thanks,” he coughs. 

The EMT laughs. “You don’t need to thank me, but my pleasure,” she says.

Elliot’s sitting a few inches away, no longer screaming but clearly still horrified. “E, I’m okay,” Cliff reassures him. He was sort of annoyed before but now he just feels bad for Elliot. Elliot takes several seconds to process that he’s being addressed, but finally nods with a grimace. 

By the time they’re at the emergency room, Cliff’s triaged as medium priority since the bleeding’s already been stopped. Therefore, he is deemed in great shape to wait on a stretcher in the hall. The lobby room is packed with people - the ER is the place to be a Friday night, apparently. 

“Uh, how long do I have to wait out here?” Cliff asks awkwardly, eyeing the chaotic scene in front of him nervously. There’s like a million sick people waiting to be seen, flu season’s in full swing, and the simple face masks the EMT hands he and Elliot in pity seems insufficient. 

“Probably a while,” the EMT says. “Good luck buddy.” Then he disappears out the sliding glass doors and Cliff very badly wishes he could follow. If he didn’t have a hole in his foot, he absolutely would.

Elliot sits in a chair close to Cliff and reaches up - it’s an awkwardly high height difference but oh well. He has most of his own color back now that Cliff’s surrounded by medical personnel. Not that any of them are ready to pay attention to Cliff, but it’s a start. A safety net, if you will. Cliff takes his hand and closes his eyes, not because he isn’t feeling well but because then he doesn’t have to view the very contagious looking room he’s in. That doesn’t block out the sound though. There’s people coughing and sneezing every ten seconds and Cliff just knows with his bad luck he’s going to come out of here with something worse than what he’s come in with.

“Sorry I freaked out,” Elliot says, interrupting Cliff’s anxious contemplations. 

Cliff squeezes his hand. “It’s okay. I know you don’t like blood,” he says. “Next time just call a cab though.”

Elliot snorts. “I am not calling a cab next time you freaking stab yourself,” he says indignantly. “Better yet, don’t stab yourself ever again.”

“It’ll be at the top of my list,” Cliff says, grimacing as one particularly noisy patient who is sitting all too close for comfort sneezes wetly, directly into their hands. “Elliot… there’s too many sick people here.”

“I know,” Elliot says. “But you need to get your foot fixed. It’s not exactly just a little cut,” he says. Cliff knows, based on how much it hurts now. In fact his foot is throbbing incessantly, which makes his patience for this animal house even worse. Still, he knows Elliot’s right. He can’t just ignore a knife wound.

However, five hours later, Cliff is one hundred percent ready to ignore a knife wound - or worse - if it means getting out of this hell hole. He’s seen more people come in looking like an ad for contagion than he ever wants to see again. From his bird’s eye view atop the stretcher, he sees every streaming red nose, every poorly covered cough and sneeze, and every feverish sod that joins the swarm of disease. He wants out. NOW.

“Fuck this,” Cliff uncharacteristically swears. He’s angry, he’s in pain, and he’s starving. They never finished dinner after all. “Elliot, we need to go. I need to get out of here. I’ll glue it back together. Don’t you have cement glue from your art class? I’ll do it.” 

“Cliff…” Elliot groans. They’ve already had this conversation at least twice per hour with varying levels of desperation. The difference is, Elliot’s also getting fed up and starving. “Just shut up and wait. Take a nap or something.” 

“How am I supposed to nap here?! I can literally feel myself catching the plague. I’ll take a hole in my foot, seriously,” Cliff says. He sounds way too serious. “I’m-“

“Clifford Barrows?” 

Elliot sighs a massive sigh of relief. Finally, not a second too soon (arguably, many hours too late), they bring Cliff back to a small curtained off bay and start working on his foot. He needs stitches - quite a few, they say - and Elliot knows any relief Cliff felt at moving one step closer to getting out of here is gone once they bring back a tray full of needles and surgical thread.

“Hold my hand,” Elliot says. “Don’t look.” 

“Do you think you can stay still?” The doctor asks. “It’s crucial you don’t move.”

“No,” Cliff says, his face entirely colorless and sweating buckets. “I don’t think I can.”

The doctor nods and straps both of Cliff’s legs down with Velcro, which doesn’t seem like it should be strong enough but it actually is. Then he tells Cliff to take a deep breath and begins. Cliff makes it through about half of the stitches before he passes out.

The doctor seems used to this, even though Elliot is alarmed. He finishes working even with Cliff unconscious and then rolls over to Cliff’s head on his little wheeled stool and wakes Cliff up. Cliff looks confused, then embarrassed, then nauseous. He manages not to puke again though and the doctor tells Elliot a nurse will be in with a tetanus shot and discharge instructions. This takes another two hours and by this time Cliff is practically crawling off of the gurney. Elliot promises him his favorite Thai food as a reward. 

“I’d eat anything,” Cliff says. “Even trash sounds good right now.” Elliot’s so hungry he actually agrees. The vending machine only takes cash and he only had two dollars on him. The protein bar they split a few hours ago was definitely not effective enough to hold them over. 

Finally they get the discharge instructions. Cliff has an updated tetanus shot and a prescription for antibiotics for the next week. They say Tylenol and Advil for the pain, plus ice and elevation. Cliff thinks he could have done that part himself without the two hour waiting to be told. He leaves the hospital on crutches to use until his return appointment in two weeks - thankfully, this appointment is outpatient, not in the ER. Cliff thinks he’d probably take the stitches out himself before returning here willingly again.

They take a cab home, dropping by the Thai place to pick up their food that Elliot ordered two hours ago. It’s cold by now, but neither of them can care less as they dig into their takeout with more fervor than seems human. Someone cleaned up their stuff from the dorm kitchen and returned the utensils and plates to their dorm - minus the knife. Cliff likes to think they threw it away and is very glad he never has to see it again.

“So, how fast do you think we’re going to get sick now?” Cliff asks when they’re finally no longer loopy from hunger. 

Elliot huffs. “Cliff, c’mon. We did wear masks… maybe it’ll be fine.” His face looks totally unconvinced though. “Okay, I bet five days.”

“I bet three,” Cliff says.

Elliot rolls his eyes. “Such a fun thing to bet on,” he says sarcastically. “What, loser has to go to the pharmacy when we run out of supplies or something?” 

He’s being facetious, but Cliff says, “Deal.” And when they’re both absolutely drowning in head colds three days later, Elliot’s the one who has to drag himself to the pharmacy to stock up on tissues and NyQuil. Next time, he thinks to himself bitterly as he shivers all the way back to their dorm, maybe they should just glue Cliff back together after all.

[hueningsloverr]

౨ৎ oceans away !

chapter eight : hey pookster

pairing : hueningkai x non idol! reader  summary : kai was never the type to go out of his way to befriend his little sisters friends, yet somehow he was convinced. and instead of simply befriending her, he fell for her. word count : 0.5k

prev / next / masterlist

since your dinner out with your friends, wonyoung had practically inserted herself into your life.

she was a really sweet girl, but you found yourself quite confused as to how you managed to end up spending your monday night sitting beside her in the itzy dormitory.

“so..” you began, looking for what to say - anything to say. 

"kai and i - we're not - we never were -" she began at nearly the same time before pausing, eyes wide. "oh, sorry! you go first."

you smiled at her kindness, attempting to ignore the awkward tension in the room. "no, it's fine really. i was just trying to say something to help with the silence."

"you know, kai and i aren't dating." she muttered, staring down at her hands.

would you believe her? she could feel the hatred you held for her, even if it was unintentional.

"we never were dating, it was all just some stupid rumour. kai wasn't looking at me - he wasn't looking at anyone to be honest. he sort of zones out." she continued, letting out a sigh of relief after noticing how well you were reacting.

you seemingly believed her.

"so please don't let some silly rumour get in between you two."

that is when she lost you.

"between us?" you coughed out, eyes widening as you shook your head. "there's nothing between kai and i in the first place!"

wonyoung laughed slightly, a soft laugh that said all too much. "tell yourself that all you want, i know what i see." she mused, leaning back on the couch.

you shook your head, glancing back down at the phone in your hand.

no new messages.

"he hasn't texted you?" she asked, suddenly peering over your shoulder.

you jumped slightly in your seat before shaking your head, taking a moment to glance over at her.

jang wonyoung was really pretty.

“we’re just friends, no reason for him to text me-“ you began, hands up as if you were attempting to defend yourself from the girl.

what had wonyoung ever done to make you defensive?

but, as you were speaking, kai texted you.

| kai 🐧 | hey pookster!

you laughed slightly, abandoning your pathetic defense attempts, and piquing wonyoung's interest.

"is it him?" she asked, smiling softly as you giggled away at your phone like a teenage girl.

she didn't need an answer, your actions spoke loud enough.

| kai 🐧 | are you doing anything tonight | i miss ur ugly mug

you continued laughing, slightly worrying wonyoung.

how can one person laugh this much?

surely kai wasn't that funny.

| y/n | i'm w/ wonyoung rn | yuna abandoned me 🤧 | she'll probs be home soon + will wanna go out so most likely not free sorry pookie

you frowned, watching as kai took his sweet time to answer.

| kai 🐧 | oh! well, i think we should talk. i’ll come pick you up in 15

you frowned again,

but this time it more out of worry than annoyance at your friends inability to text back.

whatever he had to say couldn’t be that bad, right?

authors note : this took a month to right and i still hate it. why.

©2023 — all rights reserved to hueningsloverr , please do not plagiarise or translate any of my work

[bullet-rebuttle]

♛ : OTP for my muse,  ☠ : NOTP for my muse, ♠ : Character my muse would have a one night stand with, ♥ : Weird ship I have for my muse. For Yukino, Kaori, Mizumi, Akihito, and Tsuyoshi

♛ : OTP for my muse 

For Yukino and Tsuyoshi my answer is the same as it’s the both of them. I’m a sucker for goth girlfriend and loser boyfriend//jk. I just think they balance each other well. For other non muses, I would definitely say Yukino and Haruka from @/hopes-memorial

It’s pretty much the same for Mizumi and Kaori as they are my otp for each other. It’s..the fairytale stories couple come on. Also a great balance for each other. For non muses definitely Sonia for Mizumi now lol and Elodie on @/hopes-memorial

Then for Akihito I like him with Naoko a lot cause they have a nice cares a lot about nothing and cares little about anything dynamic. Plus autism to autism communication. Other non muses..yeah him and Reiichi is really nice

☠ : NOTP for my muse

My NOTP for both of them is Yukino and Akihito. Yukino just enjoys scaring him a lot so I feel like it would make Akihito more paranoid than he is already, even if it is unintentional.

Mizumi and Rika would go horribly. Rika has little patience for people like Mizumi being too out of control so probably that one.

Tsuyoshi is one of those characters who is patient enough where I can see him with plenty of people. But I would say that him and Giichi wouldn’t work out due to their different lifestyles.

♠ : Character my muse would have a one night stand with. 

I’m kinda bad at determining this lmao. But I would say they would pick for a one night stand yamane/Mizumi, Kaori/Yukino, and usually Tsuyoshi doesn’t do one night stands and Akihito is too nervous too but I would put them together lol

♥ : Weird ship I have for my muse.

I do also like Yukino being paired with Kaori. Can see them enjoying story time together almost lmao. That’s my reasoning. Plus they both have shitty fathers for whatever’s worth.

Mizumi is one of those characters that’s hard to ship with due to her attitude. I think her and Etsuko would be funny though due to their contrasting styles and competitiveness

I’m also gonna say Tsuyoshi and Akihito. Once again, Akihito needs someone patient so it works. Plus Yoshi can make Akihito touch grass

[oliveroctavius]

idk if its an accurate word since it's not usually intentional, but how do you feel about the queer coding with Eel's gender? (especially in the 2018 comic)

to steal someone else's joke phrasing that puts it well:

I... have complex feelings on the 2018 solo's writing overall. I think my final thesis is: The character decisions were cool enough, but 2018 Plas misses out on some SUPER interesting possibilities by ignoring so much of original Plastic Man's lore.

I hope you sent this ask expecting an essay because you're getting one under the cut. Contains musings on the nature of comedy, "passing", and comics-typical transphobia.

~ ~ ~

I'm going to start with gendered attraction instead of presentation—I think it explains some things.

"The noble chaste hero gets a funny horny sidekick" is an old trope. OG Plas was the neutral hero. He seems actively scared of flirtation.

IIRC his only on-panel kiss is when he lets a lady who electrocutes via kiss power catch him, in order to defeat her (PC #100).

(Including these panels just because they're gorgeously rendered.)

The JLA writes him Like That because they'd decided he was the Horny Sidekick now. This ran into creepy-guy-threatening-women territory quick. 2018 Plas being the bouncer (get it?) at a strip club feels like both a continuation and direct rebuttal to that characterization.

Is there a hard line between queer coding and comedy-driven sexuality?

Comedy often works via expectation/setup -> subversion/punchline. Gender and sexuality standards are a kind of setup. (A man would enjoy attention from a pretty woman. A man would rather not see the Riddler in a thong.) Implied asexuality or bisexuality is then a subversion, a punchline.

I'd say it's on a sliding scale. Mockery wants you to laugh, because the subversion is impossible or unnatural. Earnest representation wants you to nod, because the subversion is possible and acceptable.

Bisexual Plas is in the spirit of the original, somewhere on that sincerity scale. Did I mention an off-panel golden age kiss?

Also, Plas and Woozy lived together and slept in Bert & Ernie beds. Listen: Woozy is a whole pile of transgressions you're supposed to find funny. If you're going for bisexual Plas, why not make him like Woozy and retroactively validate some of those jokes as possible states of being? Just sayin'.

Right, right. Gender. I'm guessing you're thinking of is the parallel drawn between Plas and the explicitly trans kiddo Pado Swakatoon. Seeing the Suave Prince of Pine Street boldly claim such a seemingly silly identity makes Eel decide to embrace Plastic Man.

So I'm disappointed that they dropped something that could make the trans parallel explicit: OG Plastic Man wasn't just Eel in shades. He created a new, permanent face and body for himself both as an expression of identity and a protective measure. Being "outed"--even though he has not physically been Eel for years at that point--nearly loses him friends, his job, and his freedom.

All 2018 Eel is really considering changing is his moral compass. With little else at stake, the parallel feels weaker.

The pressure to "pass" is an (unintentional) theme written all over pre-DCverse Plastic Man. Explicitly related to gender, even: the meanspirited man-in-dress jokes were rarely targeted at Plas even though his job included missions in girlmode.

If a joke is the gap between expectation/reality, "passing" is meeting enough expectations to close that gap. Plas fits the mold enough to dodge most of the 1940s otherwise rampant transmisogyny.

But passing as female is dangerous, too. When Plas takes a woman's place, he's usually trying to act as a lightning rod to a threat targeting her. That's another reason I love the "bouncer for a strip club" thing. They could push his identification with the dancers even further. Skimpy costume, dubiously legal night job, talented physical performer whose intelligence is often underestimated and whose secondary identity puts them at risk for violence...

It's odd. The 2018 series only has Plas take on other forms partially, momentarily, and usually just as a punchline. Passing as other people or innocuous objects to go places unaccosted is usually an entire pillar of his shtick.

When people "clock" him, they tend to shout something like "That's not a table! It's Plastic Man!" But if he's shaped like a table, and acting as a table, it would be just as accurate to say "Plastic Man is a table now" until he resumes his "normal" form. He can be one thing today and another thing tomorrow and all of those things for real.

Your ask uses the word "queer". That word shows up in the oldest comics in its original meaning: out-of-the-ordinary. Those who self-identify as "genderqueer" often do so because they'd rather not define themselves in relation to male or female-ness. "Passing" only has meaning if your goal is to be seen as one of the Expected Categories. What if you're something entirely unexpected?

(At this point I'm just kind of adding vaguely relevant panels to break up my wall of text. Thank you, 70s Plas.)

2018 Plas does briefly turn into Wonder Woman. I don't really know why he does this? Did he want to get tackled? Either way, he talks like Plas Doing A Parody--this isn't really a form he's trying to own.

Later he turns into Harley Quinn, mostly. The artist later apologized for adding serious crotch bulge to how she normally draws Harley. Which could be based, but the "transgression" lasts for just one absurdist sexed-up panel.

Plastic Man is the character it makes least sense to trot out the "men can only ever parody female-ness" jokes on. He doesn't even have toes—what's inside this man's Speedo is a state of perpetual quantum uncertainty.

I love Pado Swakatoon being included in the 2018 comic. But Pado's transition, rejecting identity A, preferring identity B, probably isn't the best lens for reading Eel. Transition doesn't have to be a straight line to a fixed destination; it's slipperier than that.

I'd argue "being Plastic Man" isn't a goal identity; he's just a conveniently safe default for someone who can be anyone. He's more defined his ability and enjoyment of change: the joy of self-determination without boundaries. The joy of being able to change one's mind at any time for any trivial reason. Because it can be helpful, because it can be fun, and because it can be him, all of it.

[intheticklecloset]

Saiki K Sentence Starters Collection

A collection of the Saiki K sentence starters I’ve done, compiled for the sake of ease. These are all stand-alone stories.

~~~

1) Lee Kaidou, Ler Aren

“Stop squirming,” Aren laughed, struggling to keep up with the flailing of his friend who was rolling on the ground in a feeble attempt to get away from the fingers prodding into his ribs and sides. “You’re making this more difficult for yourself, Jet Black Wings.”

“Dohohohohohon’t cahahahahall me thahahahaht while you’re-!” Kaidou sputtered, giggling hysterically through every word. He was unbearably ticklish, and right now Aren was bound and determined to completely destroy him. “Plehehehehease, I cahahahahan’t!”

“It’s just a minute, Shun.” Aren finally straddled his waist to keep him pinned down, searching out his bottom ribs through the fabric of his shirt. “You can handle a minute, can’t you?”

“NO!! Of course I cahahahahahahan’t! God – AREN!!” Kaidou tossed his head back with a screech, laughter being forced from his lungs as his taller, stronger friend finally found the backs of his ribs and curled his fingers into the grooves there. The blue-haired teen arched his back, but eventually he couldn’t arch up any farther and had to fall back down again. “PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE!! NAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”

Aren laughed again. “Dude, how are you so ticklish?”

“I DOHOHOHOHON’T – I CAHAHAHAHAN’T HEHEHEHEHELP IT!!” Kaidou’s laughter was loud and desperate, but the bright smile lighting up his features told Aren that he wasn’t hating it completely. “LEHEHEHEHET ME GO!! PLEASE!! NO MOHOHOHOHOHORE!!”

After another several seconds, Aren complied with his friend’s screaming pleas, climbing off of him. “You can’t even take a minute of tickling? That’s both sad and really funny.”

Kaidou groaned. “Shut up. You’re lucky we’re friends, or I’d have to kill you for that.”

“Uh-huh.” Aren poked his side again, making Kaidou yelp and roll away. “Good thing I don’t have to worry, then.”

*

2) Lee Saiki, Ler Kaidou

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh,” Kaidou commented as he and Saiki walked home from school one afternoon.

Saiki groaned to himself. Not many things amuse me enough to make me laugh.

“Well that’s a shame.”

Is it, though?

“Yeah! I want to hear it!” Kaidou hummed, watching him with a mischievous glint in his eye.

Saiki hesitated. He knew – he always knew – where that look was heading. Around his family he’d always been able to teleport away before anything happened, but here, with Kaidou, out in the open…this was not good.

For a few moments Saiki was able to dodge Kaidou’s attempts to grab his sides or ribs, but eventually he backed himself up into a wall, and that split second was all the blue-haired teen needed to find his purchase and start tickling.

Saiki hated how quickly he burst into laughter. Not even giggles – actual laughter, right out the gate. The sound seemed to surprise Kaidou, but not enough to keep him from letting up.

“Dude – your laugh is so awesome!” his friend said with a grin, squeezing up and down his sides and ribs.

Saiki struggled against him, but again, he couldn’t use his super strength to push him off without giving away that he wasn’t entirely normal. His best bet was to ride it out and then wipe Kaidou’s memory afterward. But he’d be darned if he was going to resort to begging him to stop.

“Hey, you’re not asking me to stop,” Kaidou mused as though reading his mind. “Do you like being tickled, Saiki? That’s hilarious! I’d have never expected that from you.”

Well…maybe he’d beg just this once.

*

3) Lee Saiki, Ler Aiura

“Just a smile~” Aiura teased, poking Saiki’s side with her fingertips. She’d latched herself onto his arm for their boyfriend-girlfriend show to throw off yet another Saiki fangirl, and now he couldn’t get away from her without ruining the routine. But dang it if she wasn’t making it really difficult for him!

Stop, he hissed, trying to remain as stoic as possible while continuing to walk out of the front doors of the school.

“But if you don’t smile, people won’t buy it,” she insisted, poking him again. “Come on~” This time her finger found a particularly sensitive bundle of nerves at the base of his ribs, and he jerked to the side involuntarily, letting out a sputtering giggle. Aiura stopped, staring at him. “Oh my god – you’re actually ticklish?”

Of course I am. Plenty of people are. He walked a little faster, practically dragging her with him. Come on, let’s get out of here.

“But I want to make you smile more,” she whined, trying her best to keep up.

Not here.

As soon as they were out of everyone’s sight, he teleported them far away from school grounds, where there’d be no chance of one of their classmates finding them. Just as he was beginning to relax, however, Aiura dug all ten fingers into his ribcage, making him gasp and choke on a laugh, trying to twist away from her but only succeeding in finding himself trapped in her embrace with his back to her chest, the height difference making it difficult for him to squirm away from her.

“S-Stohohohohop,” he laughed pleadingly. He didn’t know what else to do; it had been years since he’d been tickled, and his body was reacting faster than he could keep up with. “Aiura, plehehease!”

“Aww, you’re so cute when you’re tickled,” she cooed, giggling into his ear. “Relax, Saiki. There’s no one here to know, is there? I think you can take a little more~”

*

4) Lee Saiki, Ler Toritsuka

Toritsuka had seen Saiki use his astral projection powers before, but never in a situation in which it wasn’t dire. He felt kind of odd just hanging out in the room with his friend’s body lying unconscious before him while Saiki was off investigating something.

“Is your body basically dead?” he asked the quiet air, not really expecting an answer.

Of course not. If it was I wouldn’t be able to project.

“Right, right. So, what? It’s just sleeping?”

No. It’s too difficult to explain. Just leave it alone.

“But can it still feel things? Like if I poke your nose, would you feel it?”

Why would you do that in the first place? Be quiet. I’m concentrating.

Toritsuka hummed, kneeling by Saiki’s inanimate body, poking his cheek. He didn’t react, but Saiki’s voice told him to knock it off. The medium smirked, feeling curious and mischievous. “What if I tickle you? Will you feel that?”

Don’t—

But it was too late. Toritsuka curled his fingers into Saiki’s side. A moment later his friend’s projection shot back into the room and reentered his body, waking it up with a jolt and a laugh that was clearly unintentional.

Saiki grabbed his wrist, a smile on his lips despite himself. Don’t, I said—

But the medium wasn’t to be stopped now. He shoved Saiki back onto the floor and dug into his ribs, enjoying the sputtering, unpracticed giggles that bubbled up out of him. “I didn’t even know you were ticklish. Oh, Aiura is going to love this.”

Stop it! Saiki used his super strength to push Toritsuka away, growling mostly out of embarrassment. Don’t you dare tell anyone else about this.

“Or what?” the medium teased.

Saiki teleported them above the middle of the ocean.

Toritsuka clung onto him for dear life, laughing. “Okay, okay, I won’t tell! I promise!”

*

5) Lee Saiki, Ler Aiura

I swear if you tickle me… Saiki threatened, holding perfectly still. He didn’t need to look at Aiura to know she was smirking.

“What is it, Saiki? You’ll teleport away? Not in front of all these people,” she teased. She had her arms wrapped around his waist, her chin on his shoulder, squeezing his sides gently. He grunted and squirmed, doing everything he could not to react beyond the tiny smile that was already forming on his lips.

Don’t, he thought to her. I don’t want anyone to see me like this.

“Aw, come on. It’s just the two of us. No one else here even knows you.” Aiura snuggled closer, squeezing harder. “Just give me one little giggle. Please?”

No. He grit his teeth against her efforts, but was unable to help the full smile lighting up his features now. Stop it.

“Come on~” she teased, moving up to his ribs now. “Just laugh a little~”

Saiki gasped sharply when she got to his lower ribs. He shot his arms down to try and pry her off, twisting in her grip as much as possible. “Please,” he said aloud, his voice laced with a waver that only encouraged her to dig deeper. “Plehehehease, don’t!

“What? Was that a giggle?” she cried dramatically, digging in with everything she had, holding him close to her so he couldn’t get away. Aiura beamed when he finally broke down into helpless laughter, his grip on her arms weakening. “Ah! There it is!”

“Plehehehehease, stohohohohop!” he begged, his laughter coming out jerky and foreign and completely endearing. “Mikoto!”

Finally she let up, still hugging him close. “That was cute.”

“Don’t ever do that again,” he muttered, turning his face away from hers.

She smiled and didn’t reply. The light blush on his cheeks was more than enough for her.

*

6) Lee Saiki, Lers Kaidou and Aren

“Aren,” Kaidou said seriously, “hold him.”

Saiki was trapped. He couldn’t teleport away, and he couldn’t use his super strength to fight either of his “friends” off, so his only option was to try and halfheartedly wrestle against the surprisingly strong Aren as he hooked his arms under Saiki’s to hold him in place while Kaidou approached with wiggling fingers.

It didn’t take a psychic to figure out what their intentions were.

Soon Kaidou shot his hands out to Saiki’s sides and squeezed, grinning wickedly at him as he did so. Saiki bit his lip and squirmed, but refused to give them the satisfaction of smiling or giggling. Still, his reactions were enough to encourage them both; no one who wasn’t ticklish would fight back the way he was now.

“Come on, just a little smile,” Kaidou teased, continuing to squeeze up and down his sides. Saiki continued to fight back until the blue-haired boy got a little too close to his lower ribs, making him flinch harder and make a kind of choking noise in the back of his throat. He hated that a smile managed to break free from him. He struggled even more against Aren, but again, he couldn’t truly fight in the way he was capable of. He’d be darned if this was how they found out he was a psychic.

“There’s a smile,” Aren teased into his ear, his breath tickling in its own way, making Saiki whine a little and begin to blush. “Now you need to let the laughs out~”

Kaidou hummed thoughtfully, switching his tactic from squeezing to kneading purposefully into Saiki’s lower ribs, grinning when the pink-haired boy arched his back, squealed, and finally dissolved into helpless giggles.

“Aha! There you go, Saiki!”

Saiki pressed his lips together, trying to muffle himself, but Kaidou was relentless in his tickling, and soon he was practically doubled over in hysterics, barely able to stand up on his own. But again, he’d be darned if he’d let them hear him beg. So he just stood there, forced to take it, determined to hold out for as long as they deemed necessary. It was just tickling. He could handle it. Right…?

*

7) Lee Aren, Ler Saiki

“Gah!” Aren whirled around, glaring at the first person he saw who was nearby. “Kaidou!”

“What?” Kaidou asked innocently, looking genuinely confused.

“Don’t do that!”

“Don’t do what?”

Aren grunted, turning around and continuing up the aisle to where Saiki sat. A moment later, he felt another pinch to his other side and whirled again, this time snapping at Nendou.

“What? I didn’t do anything,” Nendou said.

“You all think you’re so funny,” Aren grumbled, his eyes scanning the room. He was trying not to let it show how flustered he was getting, but he knew if someone pinched his side again he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from giggling, and he did not want to giggle.

Saiki sat a few desks up from him, mindlessly flipping through a book, not actually reading anything. He was hyperaware of Aren’s presence approaching him, and he was determined to keep the boy away from him at all costs. He knew his “friend” was intending to invite him to go bike riding with him and Kaidou later, but the psychic wanted none of it.

“Seriously!” Aren cried, whirling a third time, eyes latching onto Chiyo. “Quit tickling me!”

Chiyo blinked up at him. “Tickling you? I didn’t even touch you, Aren.”

Saiki masterfully hid a smirk of his own. He’d been using his powers to poke and prod at Aren’s sides, making him think it was his classmates ganging up on him, and now he’d just outed himself to everyone without the pink-haired boy having to lift a finger. This was perfect.

“You’re ticklish?” Kaidou exclaimed, leaping up from his seat with a big smile. “Why didn’t you say so, Aren?”

Aren took a step back. “W-Wait, no, did I say ticklish? I meant…I meant, uh…” Then he took off at a sprint toward the door, ducking under the teacher just as he entered the classroom. Kaidou was right on his heels, both of them ignoring the protests of their professor.

Saiki smiled. It seemed Aren was sufficiently distracted.

[fatgum-sugarplum]

honey make this easy

For @natsuonii and @viixens Creature Feature Collab!

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: Violence mention, death mention, murder mention,  blood mention, choking, light condescension, bittersweet ending, smut

It was his eyes. Those dark eyes that held you in your sleep, following you through nightmare and dream alike, those dark eyes that belonged to a dead man. 

“We killed you. You’re dead.” The words were barely a whisper in the dim light of the room. They trembled like your limbs. 

“It didn’t take.”

18+ Only Minors DNI

It had been quite awhile since that fateful night, the night you’d chosen exactly whose side you were on. No going back from what you’d done. Nights like this it kept you awake, the images running through your mind like some movie you’d seen one too many times. You always revisited it somehow. You shouldn’t feel guilty for it, not with everything that’s come after, not with the lows you’d sunk to since, but somehow…

It was his eyes. They were dark enough to fall into and drown and if things had been different you could see yourself doing exactly that over and over again. Instead he was six feet under and you were absolutely the one who put him there whether you pulled the trigger yourself or not. You’d thrown your lot in with your current employer and hardly looked back. Everyone after him had been a breeze, some of them you even sent under entirely on your own. Their eyes didn’t haunt you, their voice a ghost in your ears. They didn’t make you wish you’d been different, not like he did. 

Tonight it should have been something else keeping you awake. Bodies had been piling up, bodies of people you knew and worked with. Eviscerated brutally, but according to the whispers that was never the cause of death. No matter the cuts and lacerations, every last one had the telltale angry purple markings across their neck of strangulation. To hear your partner say it, it looked like a hell of a painful way to go. It should be thoughts of them coming for you next. Instead it was that long ago night that you just couldn’t seem to get away from.

A sound somewhere in the quiet of your apartment caught your attention. It was mundane enough, a sort of rustling sound that easily could have been the curtains or your cat, but some deep instinct inside of you awoke that said it was anything but the usual. Your hair stood on edge and all you could think of was danger. You sat up in bed staying stock still as you strained your ears to hear anything else. A heavy silence was all that hung, somehow a physical weight on your chest and shoulders, threatening to choke you with its presence. Something was wrong. Something was here. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but the sensation made you feel distinctly prey-like. 

Slowly you put your feet to the floor and started your way out of your bedroom, groping blindly for the first thing you could grab for a weapon as you kept your eyes up, scanning the room. You froze in your motions when your eyes finally landed on a figure in the corner of the room next to the now open window. It was tall, masculine as best you could tell in the darkness, wearing all black. Despite everything about your occupation as the right hand to a villain, dangerous in your own right, you found yourself shaking. You opened your mouth to ask him who he was when he moved, sliding the window closed and reaching next to him to flick on the light. 

It was his eyes. Those dark eyes that held you in your sleep, following you through nightmare and dream alike, those dark eyes that belonged to a dead man. 

“We killed you. You’re dead.” The words were barely a whisper in the dim light of the room. They trembled like your limbs. 

“It didn’t take.” The voice was gruff, low. You remembered it well.

“Why are you here? How did you even find me?” You paused, a cold realization hitting you. The bodies. Quieter this time, “Are you going to kill me?” 

He didn’t answer, moving from his place near the window to your couch where he lounged far too casually. He didn’t regard you fully, instead glancing at you from the corner of his eye. Clearly he wasn’t concerned about you attempting to fight him. “Where’s your boss?” 

“Are you going to kill me?” You asked again, moving slightly closer to him on shaking legs.

“Are you going to answer?” 

You swallowed. Did you want to live? Absolutely. Betraying your boss would kill you just as quickly as he would, though maybe less painfully. Maybe. He just as easily could torture you for hours for your insurrection, make you die begging and pleading for forgiveness because there’d be no point in begging for your life. But maybe…

“I find it hard to believe that none of us answered.” Your voice had more of its steel back now. 

He sighed and ran a hand through a mess of black hair. For some reason the only thing you could think of was how soft it looked. How it might feel between your own fingers. You shook the thought away before it could take root any further. “Think so little of your colleagues?” The question had no actual interest in it. 

“I just don’t think many of us are so blindly loyal that we’d rather die than turn in our employer. We can find other work.” 

“Are you?” 

“I’m deciding.” You moved to your arm chair across from the couch, closer than he seemed to expect by the raised eyebrow and quiet interest in your form. 

“What is he to you?”

“Money.” 

“You’d kill a stranger for money.”

“I didn’t kill you.” 

“Funny how you thought I meant me.” He sat up then, leaning in. You noted how he seemed almost weary. Was it some sort of trick to make you feel more at ease before the kill? Or was it an unintentional slip of a mask? Maybe he just didn’t care what you saw. You didn’t care to question it much further.

“So what are you then?” You leaned back in the chair. “We buried you.” 

“Like I said, it didn’t take.” He chuckled, the noise sending a heat through your limbs you didn’t expect. He spread his arms in a mock showmanship and in an exaggerated and exhausted tone, “I’ve returned for my vengeance.” 

You snorted. “Been working your way up the chain? Half of these people weren’t even working with us when…” you swallowed. 

“When your boss put a bullet between my eyes? I know. It’s the message that counts, I think,” He frowned. Definitely a slip. 

“Do you...know what you’re doing?” You ventured. 

“Most of the time.” 

“He’s either at the base or his apartment.” 

“Good girl.” He rumbled. That sent a shiver down your spine, the heat in your core growing worse. God, he had to know, didn’t he? He stood, patting your head twice before starting for the window again. 

“Wait.” You didn’t turn but heard his footsteps stop. “What are you going to do?” 

“I thought a smart thing like you would know.” 

“I was there. Why only kill him?” Maybe it wasn’t the best question to ask a man who’d already murdered several of your colleagues, but thinking before you spoke was never your strong suit. You felt more than heard him turn to regard you, and then he was at your back, a hand on the chair as he leaned into your ear. 

“It’s all purpose, drive. I want to sink a knife into him and let him see just how it feels. You…” he paused and you could swear you heard him growl, “I think I’ll sink something else into you.” And then he was gone. 

The next two hours passed at a snail’s pace. You couldn’t get back to the comfort of your bed and so opted for returning to the armchair you’d previously been in, curling up as you turned on the television for background noise. You thumbed your phone and swallowed down a nervous lump. What did you just do? What if word got out, what if they all knew you’d done it? You could skip town. You’d done it before, you could do it again. Disappear, become a ghost--

No. No, no one would know. You had to believe that. No one would know, and this...man? Monster? Your own ghost? You knew his name, saw it in the news, why was it so damn hard to just think of him with his name. He--Aizawa--wouldn’t come back and you’d be left alone to follow the new boss or pack up and find your own. Hell, maybe it was all a dream. Dead men don’t walk. 

But you wanted him to come back, didn’t you? Wanted to hear that growl in your ear again, the strangely alluring danger of his presence. Wanted to know what the strength he possessed that led so many of your colleagues to the grave could do when pinning you to your bed. They weren’t useful thoughts but god were they not going away any time soon. 

Your eyes snapped to the window as a soft click reached your ears and broke through your thoughts. Sure enough there was the form you’d been half hoping and half dreading to see once more, crawling through with a predator’s ease. It set goosebumps dancing across your skin, a soft warmth radiating from your abdomen through the rest of your body. Your eyes met his and for a brief moment you imagined him a secret lover sneaking through your window at night against both of your better judgement. The metallic scent of blood threw you out of that fantasy fast enough, grounded you to the reality of the situation. He maybe hadn’t been before--no, he certainly hadn’t been before--but he was a killer now. A killer who had dispatched most of the crew you ran with. Could you have been so stupid as to believe he wasn’t viewing you as a loose end? So daft as to think the words he’d left you with earlier weren’t malice? 

“You’re still here.” His deep voice broke the silence between you. You swallowed. 

“Was I not supposed to be?”

“The smart thing would have been to run.” He crossed to you, slow and deliberate, “After all, what can I do to you? You must have thought it over, you’re an intelligent girl.” If anyone else had dared to call you a girl of all things you’d have put a bullet between their eyes. As it stood, hearing it rumble from his chest had you clenching around nothing. 

“Maybe I wanted to see what you meant by ‘something else.’” You mused, swallowing down any fear. He chuckled at that, leaning in as he placed a hand on the back of the chair above you. He dwarfed you in this position. The smell of blood was stronger now with him so close, but you couldn’t make out any of it on him. It was almost as though he was the scent. Like the deed he’d just done marked him somehow. It thrilled you more than it should have. 

He brought his face close to yours so his breath ghosted across your lips as he spoke, “You know, for a woman who stood by while her boss murdered me...you’re awful compelling.” 

“Compelling?” The question was far quieter and breathier than you meant for it to be. Your heart pounded against your ribcage, so loud you could swear he could hear it. His soft chuff of amusement didn’t help with that notion. 

He ran the back of his free hand slowly down your cheek, along your jaw, down your neck. His eyes never left yours, watching for every minute reaction. You were giving him a damn feast, your pupils dilated, your lips trembling, short, soft breaths leaving your slightly parted mouth. He wanted to eat you up, take everything you’d give him and then some, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to savor this last meal. 

Aizawa had felt himself slipping the minute your boss’s body had crumpled to the floor in front of him. He didn’t question why the force that had pulled him from the grave decided you weren’t on his revenge list. He was more than happy to leave you alive, more than happy to use his last night on this earth absolutely ravaging your body. He’d left that place without his customary clean up, quite aware that even if there was evidence left behind it wouldn’t matter to him come morning. Besides, he had a different kind of prey to get back to. 

Now here you were, trembling beneath him, so beautifully conflicted between if you should run or if you should give in. As his hand ghosted across the skin of your neck he turned it suddenly, pressing down ever so slightly. Your breath hitched as you involuntarily arched it into his grasp, a silent plea for more. A beat. Your eyes locked together. A beat. 

All at once the tension snapped as his lips came crashing down on yours with a growl that was absolutely feral. You moaned into the kiss, hands coming up to tangle in that soft hair as you roughly tugged. He groaned in kind, pressing down harder against your neck, just enough to cut off your airway. The deprivation was absolutely delicious. His heated kisses started to trail along your jaw, mixed with rough nips and licks. You angled your body in an attempt to press it up against his and he chuckled. 

“What a needy little mouse…” He let go of your neck and listened to you take that instinctive gasp of breath to fill your lungs once again. He replaced his fingers with his mouth, biting down hard. You whined, tugging hard at his hair again which earned you a growl in turn. Fuck you needed him in you. 

“P-please…” 

“Please what, little mouse?” 

“Need more, please!” You whimpered out, squirming in that chair. He watched you with such a fierce hunger in his eyes you were certain you’d die on the spot. 

“More what, little mouse? Be specific for me.” 

God damnit. You squirmed more, movements desperate. “Need you against me, please...want you in me…” Some part of you registered that you were supposed to have more dignity than this. Maybe it was the danger or the regret or some fucked up mix of the two but he was making you absolutely dizzy with want in a way no one else had before. 

“There we go. Was that so hard?” He practically purred into your ear just before yanking you up against his frame. You remembered how strong he’d been before, how difficult putting him down had been for you and your boss, but god it was like it had been enhanced tenfold. You pushed against him, hands feeling along the corded muscles beneath his clothes as he kissed you, walking you backwards toward your bedroom. 

You managed somehow to not stumble, falling back the second you felt your legs hit your bed. You scrambled back up to the pillows, keeping your eyes on him the entire time as he followed you on hands and knees. He reminded you of a panther stalking its prey, gorgeous and so very lethal. You shivered, biting your lip at the thought. He brought his lips to yours again, tongue finding its way into your eager open mouth to taste you. 

You started at his shirt, tugging it up as far as you could without his help. He broke the kiss long enough to tug it over his head and throw it to the side before diving back in, holding you close against him as your hands traveled along his bare skin. It didn’t take long for him to treat you in kind, hands fisting in the material of your flimsy tank top and wrenching it violently. The sound of ripping fabric sent a jolt of pleasure through you. You could get a new top later, right now all you cared about was getting the rest of these damn clothes out of the way. 

You pushed your shorts and panties down your legs, impatiently kicking them off the second you could. He watched you, not bothering with his own further than moving them down enough to pull his hard cock out. You licked your lips as your eyes flicked between his face and that damn beautiful cock. You spread your legs for him and he smirked. 

“Beg.” 

You groaned, pressing your head back against the pillows. “I already did!” 

“I could just go. Leave you soaked and wanting, poor little mouse. You and I both know your toys just won’t make you cum like I can.” The wicked, lopsided grin on his face made you want to punch him. You whined loudly. 

“Please fuck me, Shota...” You squirmed your hips a little, giving him your best doe eyes, praying it would make him merciful, “Please...want you to make me cummm…” 

He leaned in then, caging you in beneath him as he nipped your earlobe, “Aw, you do know my name, little mouse.” He pushed in then, using your slick to hilt himself entirely inside your warm cunt. You let out a ragged gasp, hands flying up to grip his back, digging your nails in. He groaned, resting his head against your shoulder for a brief moment, “Fuck you’re tight.” 

He started moving in earnest then, hips snapping against yours as he drove his cock into your already sensitive hole over and over again. Little cries and curses left your mouth as he fucked you. God this was perfect, he was perfect. It felt like you were made just for him to break. If things had been different, maybe you could have had this every single night. The part of your mind that still clung to solid ground felt the pang of guilt. You pulled him down into a rough kiss, letting him swallow up your noises. 

He gripped both your hands, holding them down against the mattress as he pushed up to get a better look at you, gaze ravenous as he took in your bouncing tits, the sweat sheening against your skin. They traveled to where his cock drove into your tight cunt, watching as he abused your soaking wet hole. Through gritted teeth, “Fuck baby you were made to take my cock.” 

You whined again, tightening around his thick length at his words. The heat in your core grew worse, a coil threatening to snap if wound too tight, and damn was he doing his best to do just that. You panted out between moans, listening to the groans and growls he let out above you, no thought at all for how loud either of you were being. Fuck the neighbors, they could listen in and wish they were getting fucked this good. 

“F-Fuck Sh..Sho gonna...gonna cummm~!” You managed, words clumsy on your tongue. He groaned, low and deep, fucking you harder into the mattress. You nearly screamed then, the pleasure too much to handle for your sensitive body. 

“That’s it, little mouse, cum on my dick..” He groaned out, a primal growl in his voice. You moaned loud, reaching up to grapple at his back as he let you out of his grasp to once again cage you beneath him, picking up the pace as his own thrusts became erratic. You dug angry red lines down his back as you came undone around him, that coil snapping inside you as you screamed out your pleasure. The deep groan in your ear as he pumped your abused cunt full of his cum had you tightening around him, milking his cock for all he was worth. 

You weren’t sure how long you two stayed like that. All notion of the passage of time was alien to you, the only thing keeping you grounded his hot skin against your own. The heat was almost suffocating. With it all still that scent of blood that you were certain now was just him. Slowly he pulled his cock from your dripping cunt, chuckling when you gasped in response. 

“Doing okay there, little mouse?” 

You snorted once you had your bearings, “Quiet.” 

“Never.” He placed a kiss to your cheek, far more affectionate than you expected for the situation, before rolling off of you onto his back. He draped an arm across his sweat slicked forehead and looked to you with tired eyes.

“Planning on staying then?” You questioned. You didn’t understand the anxiety that twisted in your gut in the split second it took for him to respond. 

“I’ve had a long night.” 

“You have.” 

“Let’s play pretend then. You let me hold you tonight.” 

“And pretend you won’t kill me in the middle of the night?” 

“And pretend I’m not the man you murdered.” He responded. There was an ice to the words that had your gut twisting again. You didn’t reply, just slotted your body against his, placing a hand on his chest that felt so cold to you now. You rested your head against his shoulder as he wound his free arm around you, pulling you in close. You waited a few beats, the only sound in the room your ragged breathing. Why it struck you as odd took a few moments. Normally at this angle you’d have heard your partner for the night’s heartbeat hammering against his chest, but Aizawa’s own body was so silent. 

“Your heart--”

“Don’t.” 

“Right.” You swallowed. He may be walking around and, at least, semi-functioning, but he was still dead. You still did that. “In the morning…” 

“Don’t worry. I won’t be here.” 

“Right.” You fell silent then, a deep guilt and anxiety taking over the post-orgasm glow. You didn’t want him gone in the morning. You wanted to fix what you’d done, you wanted to have him here, to give him a proper apology. 

He let out a soft sigh. He expended more energy than he expected and already he could feel himself slipping away. You didn’t need to see it, should be asleep when he finally faded away. It was a few minutes before he spoke again. “Good night, little mouse.” Your soft breathing was his only response in the dark. Good, at least he tired you out properly. He pushed himself up slightly, looking down at your face. There was a troubled look on that sleeping face, one that some odd part of him wanted to soothe away. 

These feelings were confusing, too much for him to unpack in the short time he had left. At least they weren’t something he had to unpack, really. Just something he had to “live” moment to moment with. He placed a soft kiss on your temple, carefully untangled himself from you, and started for the door to your room when he paused. He reached down, scooped his shirt up from the floor, and left, draping it across the chair in your living room. 

In the morning you wandered bleary eyed from your cold bed to the soft light of the living room. The window was partially opened. You frowned, crossing to it to close it when your bare foot stepped into a soft pile of...something. You looked down, squinting. Ash. Next to the window was a small pile of ash. Your eyes scanned the room then, landing on the black shirt laying across the back of your chair and you knew. 

Gone. He was gone. Mission complete, nothing tethering him to the world anymore. You pulled that shirt to your chest, cradling it against your heart. Your heart felt cold, that guilt writhing in you as you swallowed hard. You didn’t deserve what this meant, but you’d take it anyway. Forgiveness. 

[stargazer-balladeer]

Them with a Shy S/o [Persona 5]

anon: Hello! Congratulations on your Followers! I wanted to ask if you can write the "Them with a shy s/o" for the Persona 5 cast as well? Thanks!!

Characters Included: Akira Kurusu, Ryuji Sakamoto, Ann Takamaki, Yusuke Kitagawa, Makoto Niijima, Haru Okumura, Futaba Sakura & Goro Akechi

Note: A lot of you guys like Persona 5 huh? Oh well, I can see why :) Hope ya’ll enjoy this!

Reader’s Gender: Neutral

Warning: none

Akira Kurusu

This guy? He'll find it cute— no, scratch that. ADORABLE that his s/o's shy. He'll be all over them when he laid eyes on them, they better be prepared >:)

We all know this guy's a tease, right? And you are NO exception to this. Actually, you had it worse.

Because you are shy, he'll find every reaction of yours cute and always seem to tease you about it, until you were pretty much the twin of an apple -_-

But he knows his limit, of course. If he sees that it's either making you uncomfortable or hurt by what he's doing, he'll stop.

When you two first meet, it's you avoiding him and him pouting as you ran away. Pretty much a cat-and-rat chase, which the Phantom Thieves find funny, watching their leader chasing his s/o.

The reason why you're running? You heard the rumors and thought it was true. Not wanting to be his next victim, you ran whenever he's near you.

He only managed to talk to you (without you running away) when Ann drag you over to Akira, the group have had enough of this shenanigans.

You two hang-out in either LeBlanc or outside, but mostly in LeBlanc though. You two just chilling while drinking coffee (or tea, or whatever beverages you prefer) and just talk.

He'll find it hilarious if he finds out you're talkative, he might tease you about it but other than that, made no comment about it. He loves your voice so it's a bonus for him :D

How he ask you out? He asks you in a straightforward manner while you were drinking, which made you successfully chock. You two panic for a bit before you answered him yes, with a bit of embarrassment ofc.

Ryuji Sakamoto

He might not at all notice you, srry. Unless you're either friends with his friends (or his friends pointing at you) or you're a victim of Kamoshida. Yeah. That's the only way for him to only notice you.

He might not really care about you much but when he notices you everywhere he goes, he suddenly cared about you.

Like Akira, he finds your shy trait cute and find it hilarious when he finds out you're talkative. But he also LOVES hearing your voice so its a plus for him.

I don’t see Ryuji as a tease though, he might be as shy as you are! Which frustrates the group when Ryuji is being his Tsundere self. Like you would go up to him and he will either freeze or go away from you, that is, IF he realizes his feelings for you.

But he finds every reaction of yours cute but he wouldn’t admit it.

How you two meet? The first bulletin pls. If you’re friends with one of his friends, namely Ann, she would basically drag you over to meet him and the rest. If you’re a victim, chances are you appeared as a Shadow in Kamoshida’s Palace. 

He would find your shy self indifferent really, he already has seen that reaction of yours everywhere he goes (his delinquent self and all). But he might get to know you if you two were (force) to be together or left alone, he finds silence uncomfortable afterall.

You two will be often seen hanging out during and after school, probably in front of a store or the arcade. Akira (with Morgana) and Ann will also join in but not all the time, so its basically you and Ryuji.

How he ask you out? Very hesitant, shy and in-denial. It might take some time, and his friends pushing, for him to ask you out. But when he does confess, you could hardly understand what he was trying to tell you. Him stuttering while blushing while still acting cool, yeah, you were hella confuse.

But when you DO understand, you’ll blush and nod, too shy to say anything (much to Ryuji’s relief and dismay).

Ann Takamaki

This girl’s basically gushes about how adorable you were and spoils you rotten, much to your embarrassment. You two definitely met by her approaching you and just start talking.

If she sees you were uncomfortable with her, she would keep her distance. Other than that, she’ll be stuck with you. Good luck with that.

She’s so energetic that she would drag you to places where you’ve never been before. 

She’ll be the one who orders for the both of you if you are uncomfortable doing so, she really doesn’t mind.

She might tease you a bit, just to get a reaction out of you. But if she sees you were getting hurt or uncomfortable by her teasing, she’ll stop. This woman respects your privacy to a whole new level -_-

Like I said, Ann drags you places to places. You two are hardly ever seen in one place really, except for school, LeBlanc and that store that sells sweets. 

She doesn’t really mind your shy self really, but when she finds out you’re chatty, you two will be talking non-stop. Your topics will keep bouncing from one to another, till there is nothing left to say (which would probably never happen since you two always seem to find something to talk about).

How does she confess her undying love to you? She does it in a cliche way, this girl lives for cliches :) She does it by giving you 3 red roses, which means “I love you”. Whether you know or not about flower language, she wouldn’t tell you at once. She’ll wait until you figure it out. 

If you don’t know, either search in Google or ask someone (Siri?). You should probably go to Haru or Makoto for this.

If you already knew or just figured it out, you would immediately go to Ann and say your answer to her. Pls say yes ;-;

Yusuke Kitagawa

This boi doesn’t really care about your shy personality, no, he finds it endearing. You somehow managed to caught his artistic eyes. Don’t get me started with this poor boi. He doesn’t know how to approach you! So he did it the only way he knows how, following you around.

Ofc, this has an opposite effect than what Yusuke wanted. This made him creepy and stalker for you, so you keep running away while him chasing you. You even thought he was a kidnapper or a thief (not literally tho COUGH COUGH).

The group finds it amusing (Mommy Makoto sighing in the background) as they watch the scene unfold. But as the days go by, they were kinda worried and concerned about the two of you. So they decided to take matters in their own hands.

They managed to get you and Yusuke in the same room together. They even instructed Yusuke to not be weird. Yusuke, being confused, decided to follow their orders. 

The two of you managed to have a civil conversation about sunsets of all things. Ofc, you were still wary around him but you soon found yourself being comfortable around him. 

Yusuke isn’t a tease at all, actually, he’s more oblivious than you even! Yusuke doesn’t really understand the concept about love but is willing to learn about it.

(PS: Pls also feed this bby boi ;-; he needs it DESPERATELY)

You and Yusuke can be found either in a art gallery or his house. It’s also either watching him paint, listening to him rant or being his muse. It might be boring to others but you always found yourself enjoying his peculiar self.

He doesn’t mind if you’re talkative really. He likes to listen to you whenever you talk about something, he also finds this trait of yours endearing.

How he ask you out? Pls don’t ask ;-;. This boi doesn’t even know his feelings towards you, which was VERY obvious to everyone, heck, even you! You, being your shy self, is very hesitant to confess to him. WHAT IF HE DOESN’T LIKE ME? -_- <-- my reaction

It take everyone to explain to him his feelings. You might need to wait a bit long for him to finally realize his feelings. But when he does, he’ll immediately confess to you. This boi doesn’t know how to be embarrassed unfortunately ;-;

Makoto Niijima

This girl would notice you if you were in the Student Council or classmates with her or a victim of someone’s Palace. Other than that, you’re pretty much a background character for her. 

You always thought she was intimidating so you avoid her as much as you could. When Makoto notices you avoiding her, she would be hurt ofc. Did she do something to you that she doesn’t know of? You can be sure that Makoto would rack her mind for DAYS, trying to recall what made you avoid her so much.

If she couldn’t find out about it, be sure that she’ll approach you the following day. Managing to corner you, which is unintentional for her part. She would ask you the question and when you answered honestly (you can’t lie to her), she would be confuse. 

But ever since then, she would make an effort in becoming friends with you. She’s not bothered by your shy self, she finds it cute though :)

If she finds out you’re talkative, she’ll be surprised about it but it was warmly welcomed, especially during her time in being President. During her signing papers, you would talk to her about your day and some unrelated topics. She doesn’t mind at all, she finds your voice soothing.

Pls give this girl a rest ;-; she works wayyyy too hard. 

You two can be found hanging out in LeBlanc or either houses. You two can be drinking coffee (or whatever beverages you prefer) and just chat with one another.

How does she confess? It might also take some time since she wants to make sure that what she’s feeling is true. Bc I can see her as the person who likes someone, it’s already that person that they want to marry and spend their whole life together. 

But when she is sure about it, she would take it slow and confess to you. She’s patient so she watches as you fumble your words up. She’ll be overjoyed that you accept her feelings though. 

Yay! Happy mommy Makoto :D

Haru Okumura

She already notices you wayyy before you notice her. She notices your shy self and talkative self, she finds it adorable though. I’m gonna bet that she will be the one who approaches you first and strike a conversation with you.

You couldn’t afford to run away from her, she’s too precious! TwT So you decided to converse with her also and find yourself enjoying her presence much. 

Her aura around her gives out a soothing one, it easily attracts someone to her. It could be a weapon or defense, not sure. But one thing is for sure, you’re hook at once.

She might tease you here and there, but she’s rather passive. She enjoys cuddling and holding hands with you, even before you two started to date. She’s touch-starved ;-;

She is the kind of person who listens to other people talking. She wouldn’t dare to interrupt you while you are talking about something you are passionate about.

You two are never in the same place, like Ann. You two can be found everywhere, since I like to think that Haru likes to explore new areas. But she’s not gonna drag you around if you don’t like it. She would DEFINTELY stay with you at home, cuddling with you in the couch.

Haru might seem shy at first, but don’t be fooled! When she finds out she has feelings for you, she would straight-in confess her feelings to you. It might involve a bouquet or two :)

Pls say yes ;-; this bby deserve da world :)

Futaba Sakura

She doesn’t know you at all, unless you are either a part of the Phantom Thieves or a friend of her friends. Though she wouldn’t meet you either in that, so you best believe that you are a member of this outcast group or else you wouldn’t meet this hacker girl.

She can relate to you so much, although hers is much more of anxiety than shyness. She can still relate to you. You two might not talk at all, unless someone forces them to talk each other (i.e: mommy Makoto or daddy Akira :3 I don’t ship them tho).

You two instantly click though, much to everyone’s relief and dismay. You can bet that Futaba would drag you in her shenanigans, better be prepared :)

SHE LOVES THAT YOU TWO CAN TALK ENDLESSLY :D

Where you two can be seen? In her room. She never leaves her room unless necessary. So you two hang-out there, hope you don’t mind. You two play video games together or her teaching you how to hack.

She isn’t much into touchy-feely things but she would welcome a hug or cuddles. She’s more touch-starved than Haru unfortunately ;-;

How she asks you out? Simple. She doesn’t. And the worst thing, you don’t either. So you two can be friends for so long until either one of you confess.

So you better toughen up if you want her to be your girlfriend >:) This girl would surely say yes if you (stutter your) confess(ion). 

Goro Akechi

This boi is almost like Akira in so many ways, except for the fact that he handle his situation in a much different way. This two bois can be best bros if they want to -_-

Anyway, back to hc.

You two would meet during his school days or outside. He recognizes you as the shy girl in his class. He might scare you away though, since you can’t handle his fangirls or his charming looks, much to his confusion.

He tries talking to you but you always manage to find a loop-hole, much to his dismay. He managed to talk to you when you two were (coincidentally) riding the train.

That’s the start of the bittersweet friendship you two have.

Much like Akira, he WILL tease you to get reaction from you, he finds this adorable. He would leave teasing kisses around your faces and leave a lingering kiss on your lips, leaving you wanting more. He’s such a tease -3-

But he’ll stop if he sees you embarrassed or hurt, he’ll kiss your entire face in apology. At the end, you are as red as a Cherry.

You two can be seen either in either your home or in LeBlanc or anywhere private, since he has a fanbase. He would rather for the two of you to be at home or at LeBlanc since it really provides privacy. 

His work schedule is all over the place, so be sure to always be prepared whenever Akechi wants to hang-out with you.

It’s also a plus if you can cook pancakes for him :) You get his approval

How he asks you out? In the most basic way, asking you if you are available tomorrow to eat dinner or watch movie. SAY YES PLS :)

(He’s internally panicking ofc)

BTW, be sure to be prepared when he breaks up with you at the end. You know what I mean :) 

[x] Main Page || [x] Persona 5 Page

[samwrights]

Between the Lines, pt II

Here is part two to @anianimol ‘s Ukai Breeding Kink request—literally 70% of this particular portion is smut. Please proceed with caution if you are uncomfortable with the following:

Warnings: language, nicotine and alcohol consumption, implied emotionally abusive relationship, breeding/impreg kink, dirty talk, rough sex, risky sex, road head, slight dub-con, praise, multiple smut scenes, 3rd person POV reader-insert—because the word ‘you’ just didn’t seem to fit.

“Trust me, this car ride is torture enough.”

“I could make it worse.” Ukai Keishin did not like the sound of that in the slightest. He was already going well over the speed limit on the freeway and praying to the gods above that he wouldn’t get pulled over and—

The widespread panic that was bleeding into his veins stopped entirely when he feels the button to his jeans being freed.

“Are you insane?!” The blonde snarls, though he cannot deny the fact that his lust is now at full speed ahead with a brick on the gas pedal. [name] says nothing in response—only teases him further by unzipping his pants and running her fingernails over his boxer-clad half-hard cock while he’s fighting to focus on getting back home. Keishin squeezes the steering wheel with both hands tightly, the skin over his knuckles turning white as she frees his length only to re-capture it in her mouth. The warmth welcomes him entirely, sweetly, and it’s sending his mind into a lust-laden frenzy.

As soon as the two of them exit the freeway, they’re stopped at a light. Ukai takes the opportunity to adjust his jeans to give [name] more room to work because there was absolutely no fighting this now. Not with the way her hand is wrapped around the base of cock just to hold it upright while she swallows the entirety of his length and girth. At this point, she’s literally praising it, worshipping even, with her attentive tongue; lapping at every centimeter of skin, laving at the prominent veins, suckling on the tip to coerce his pre-cum.

“Ah, fuck,” Ukai hisses when his tip hits the back of her throat. They were almost back to his apartment above the Sakanoshita store—he could hold on for just five more minutes. He hoped. Though it was proving difficult with pleased gargles rumbling in her throat as she repeatedly swallowed every goddamn inch of his dick. Keishin can’t help but breathe heavy, trying to make sure he’s keeping oxygen going to his brain because fuck he can’t think straight right now. Not with the way this angelic creature had been taking him whole. It’s taking everything in him to not thrust his hips to meet with her lips, because he knows once he starts, he’s going to accidentally end up slamming on the gas pedal. Literally. “Shit, I’m gonna cum.”

“Good thing I’m thirsty,” [name] responds, hardly missing a beat as she pulls away briefly to supply her sassy remark. Immediately returning to the task at hand, she relaxes her throat walls to relentlessly swallow every single inch until her face is pressing into his stomach and she chokes down his seed. For some reason, it doesn’t surprise him in the slightest when she greedily swallows every drop while simultaneously coercing the rest from his tip. It does funny things to Keishin, seeing this beautiful ray of sunlight so hungry, so desperate for him, and it turns on all the switches to his filthiest desires.

“Open your mouth princess,” he croons, affectionately rubbing at her messy locks, “I wanna make sure you swallowed all of it.” [name] sticks out her puffy tongue, saying ‘ahh’ for emphasis, while he looks down for a hasty inspection. “Good girl,” he offers almost endearingly when she passes.

The second he pulls in to his drive way, Ukai threads his calloused fingers into her locks and pulls her lips desperately to his to taste the mix of them on her tongue. Despite the unsavory act, he gives her an enthusiastic kiss with one hand cupping her cheek and constant back and forth spit swapping because, damn it all, she made him feel things he thought long died. Desperation, depravity, desire—all of those feelings were reignited in Ukai and it was all her fault. But he doesn’t care that there’s more than sexual tension in their motions—he wants it that way. Their kiss rather sweet, loving even, as if to tell her this was more than lust and that he hoped [name] felt that too.

Or as if to act as a premature apology for the things he was going to do to her.

The week of unintentional teasing certainly served its purpose, [name] mused somewhere between the lines. It had worked out better than she’d ever dreamed of, and those were often recurring wet dreams, no less.

She had always pictured Keishin to be a rough lover but she’d never expected him to be as filthy as this. The bare man behind her had her face pressing into a pillow as he rammed into her sensitive hole, unabashedly howling his own salacious fantasies. There was not a single curse word in any collective lexicon that hadn’t left his mouth tonight and goddammit it was the sexiest thing she’d ever heard.

“Oh, fuck yeah, you’re taking me so well kid,” he grits out, giving a particularly hard thrust because he wants to keep hearing her scream every time his dick drags along her walls, “this everything you’ve been dreaming about, kid? Been dreaming about my fucking cock stuffing your pussy?”

The dirty talk sends electrical pulses from her ears down [name]’s spine—who knew that words alone could bring her so close to orgasm? But she can’t find words of her own at the moment. The only comprehensible sounds coming to her mind are throaty moans and pants and weak screams as Keishin grabs her by the wrists to force her hips to meet with his. But it’s not enough that he’s all but reaming her, no. He yanks her back even further until her chest is sticking out and her head is thrown back unintentionally to look up at him as he pounds her.

She’s beautiful, he muses internally, even with her eyes nearly shut in depravity and drool running down the corner of her mouth and repeated, mindless babble of approval of the way he was fucking her. She was so goddamn beautiful and he was going to make her his in every sense of the word.

Overwhelmed with the sight, Keishin adjusts his grip so that one of his hands holds her in place while the other cups her jaw and gingerly brings her closer to kiss her.

He loves kissing her, he learned rather quickly.

Even the smallest shift in their position cause Ukai to prod at different spot within her core, forcing [name] to clamp down on his length. “Ooh, right there, baby?” But she can only nod when he makes it a point to make sure he’s hitting that same area over and over. “Yeah? You’re squeezing me so fucking hard, you’re gonna make me cum. You want my cum, princess?”

Good god, [name] could just listen to him talk and she could get off.

She can’t help her clenching core, not with the way Keishin is smacking his hips into hers like a piston or the way his cock starts twitching as he falls over the dam of his own orgasm. “Oh fuck yeah, princess. Take my cum like a good girl, baby, fuck.” His words stifle and give way to his labored breathing until he physically can’t even let out a sound—a telltale sign that he should probably slow down before he passes out.

[name] collapses chest down onto the bed as soon as Ukai lets go of her wrists; her back rising and falling as she attempts to catch her own breath. Ukai is doing much of the same, though he’s sitting on his haunches while staring out the window as the morning sun filters in. What time was it anyway?

As soon as he feels like his legs aren’t numb anymore, he hovers over the side of the bed in search of his cell phone before moving to rest his back against his headboard—it was only seven right now, meaning the store wouldn’t open for another two hours. Momentarily Ukai is grateful it’s as early as it is because that means his mother wasn’t downstairs listening to him essentially impregnate someone. But even more so, he’s grateful to see the way the rising sun reflects the sheen of sweat on [name]’s back. It made her glow even more than the glitter she wore on her cheeks when she was out for the night or disco lights shining off her pearly whites.

She’s so fucking beautiful, he thinks again, and he doesn’t realize he’s staring at her until he deciphers the [eye color]ed orbs staring back at him. A part of her wants to say something, probably the reason she was opening and closing her mouth, but words just don’t come out. What would she even say if she had a voice right now? She can’t say she loves him because that’s just weird and too clingy, nor can she say thank you because that’s even weirder—

“C’mere.” Ukai murmurs softly, patting at his bare chest. [name] quirks a brow, which prompts the former to give a roll of his honey brown eyes, before reaching for one of her wrists and hoisting her up to rest on him. When her head nestles along his collar bone, he wraps one arm tightly around her waist and presses a chaste kiss into her sweaty hair. It’s a delicate, wholesome moment that Ukai thought he’d never get the chance to share with anyone for awhile, let alone with a club patron or an ex of one of his club members.

It’s a tender, loving moment in which he takes advantage of the opportunity to ask the questions that had been gnawing at him for the last several days.

“Cardboard Swords,” he says as gently and as firmly as he’s holding her.

“Huh?”

“I wanted to ask you earlier, but it kinda didn’t seem appropriate at the time.” It’s not a full question by any means, but she understands the syntax well enough.

“And you think after emptying a second load in me is more appropriate?” She jokes, causing the man that’s holding her to groan because he knows. He doesn’t fall for bullshit and he knows that question was just [name] deflecting. “Fine, fine. Um, Flannel was mine and Suga’s break up song. I figured you could tell that much.” She concedes temporarily, shifting uncomfortably in his arms. Why does he even want to know this, she wonders. But she remembers clear as day him asking what Sugawara did to make her be the dull person she was back in high school, versus the firecracker on the Fourth of July that she was now. She figured she at least owed him some form of reprieve considering he satiated her high school and current fantasies.

Well, one of them anyway.

And while she remained quiet, Keishin’s analytical mind is hard at work recounting the memory of her lips moving along to every line. The thing that the DJ loves the most about music is that he can tell when a beat or a line hits close to home by how loud their expression is. His mind starts piecing things together based off of context and evidence and [name] can tell by the way his breathing begins to quicken that he just might be onto something.

“It’s fine. We went our separate ways after graduating. He did his thing, I did my thing.” She says to quell his steadily rising anxiety. Though she was unsure why it was beginning to crest, considering he hadn’t vocalized his personal deductions. Part of her wondered if he got it right, part of her doesn’t even care because Sugawara doesn’t matter to her anymore.

“And your thing is hanging out at a dingy club every night?”

“Hey, don’t call my aunt’s club dingy.”

“Your what?! Family friend, my ass!” This girl was going to be the death of him, he decides. Because now it made so much more sense of how she vaguely knew of his schedule (not that it was necessarily damning evidence), or why she was there in the first place and as often, or why she knew where Bevelle lived off the back of her hand. But shit, that just means he slept with his boss’s niece who is eight years his junior and—

“Dude, relax,” [name] stresses the command, pinching the nipple closest to her to pull Ukai from his reverie. “How do you think you got the job in the first place, coach? Though, aunt ‘Velle only showed me your application—she made the initial decision to offer you the job. I didn’t realize it was you that took the name Spira.” His mind is piecing more things together and he’s starting to learn to hate that his mind does that.

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Hey, I didn’t know you were gonna fuck me—“ Ukai lets out a noise, a hybrid noise between annoyance and embarrassment before rolling over to trap [name] between his bed and himself. He doesn’t want to talk about this anymore, doesn’t want to think about it because the more he does, the deeper hole he digs for himself.

“I’d do it again, too. If you’ll let me.” Regardless of the strange sense of shame and irritation he felt, Keishin’s voice came out rather soft. Probably because he knew were it not for [name]’s meddling and the string of circumstances, she wouldn’t be here with him right now. In a weird sense, he’s grateful—grateful for the way she answers with her arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him flush against her, bringing his lips to hers once again.

“Will you, though?” She asks after they break for a breather. [name] can’t help the question from leaving her lungs as much as she doesn’t want to think about what comes after this. And Keishin understands the query that’s hidden in between the lines and he’s unsure if he’s ready to verbalize his answer. So rather than putting it into words, his lips cover hers once again.

It’s much sweeter than the others—it’s gingerly and warm, softer than powdered sugar, and for a moment the two of them are enveloped in their moment together. But it’s not enough for Ukai, not in the slightest. Not with the way he’s overwhelmed with the need to chase this profound sense of urgency to stake his claim.

It’s not enough even with his mouth meandering further down her jaw and her neck, leaving little bites and bruises in his wake. It’s not enough in the way his tongue parts her labia and massages the inner walls of her core or suckles down her clit until she’s screaming once again. It’s not enough even when he slides his dick in one more time and is welcomed with the warmth of home.

Ukai is torn with the dichotomy of wanting to be rough with [name], wanting to smack his hips and drive his cock far enough in her that she has bruises around her opening and on her uterus, and absolutely letting every truth fly off his tongue. But his body decides for him in the way he lurches over her bucking body, one hand cradling her jaw with his thumb brushing over her bruised lips.

“Keishin...” [name] calls out in a strangled song, “h-harder, please!”

Her cries break his final thread of sanity.

“Yeah, you want more princess?” He grits out. His free hand traces patterns down her stomach before honing in on her clit, frantically circling at the bundle of nerves and driving his length in her cunt to match. [name] gave an innate squeeze at the sudden added stimulation, ready for her orgasm to wash over her once again. “You’re squeezing me so fucking good, baby. You want my cum?”

“P-please, cum inside me.” The subtle pleas shred every fiber of his control. Keishin releases his grip on both her clit and her jaw, hands scooping under her hips to angle her upward to find her pressure point once again. Leave it to this guy to be able to find it with ease after only one trial run. “Oh fuck, Keishin!”

“Fuck yes, baby, you want my cum? Want me to fill you up again? You’re just begging me to fuck a baby into you, aren’t you?” [name] clenched with a death grip, her subconscious going into overload. She’d never admit out loud that she’d fantasized about marrying the DJ and having a family with him maybe once or twice. Or every other week. She’d take that secret to the grave.

And while Keishin didn’t necessarily mean for his words to come out the way they did, he found himself unbothered by it all. Because he wants to know more, wants to have more than this one night with [name]. It only made it a thousand times better knowing she was getting off to his private kink, swallowing his cock whole to coax his seed to spill. “Aw, fuck yeah, gonna breed you like my own little whore,” he grits out, hips stuttering as his dick twitches, spurting his cum within her walls once again.

“Fuck a baby into me, huh?” [name] laughs after Keishin collapses on top of her, panting heavily to catch his breath.

“Sorry, was that too much?” She only laughs once more in response.

“Nah, that was perfect.”

Perfect was the only way to describe the way Keishin felt about [name], even a year later after their first night together. Sex aside, because that was perfection in its own right, the relationship that had bloomed between the two of them was everything the coach had been waiting for. The envy he had once felt for his fellow DJs for seizing the opportunity to sleep with other club patrons had subsided entirely considering Ukai had gotten the creme de la creme.

[name] now owned the club.

Bevelle, her aunt and the woman that initially hired Keishin a few years back, had been prepping and grooming [name] since she graduated high school to take over her business so that Bevelle could move on to new ventures. The night she started learning the ins and outs of running the club was the very same night Ukai had come in as a guest with the neighborhood association.

Apparently offering him a job was supposed to be a joke, but Bevelle knew something was strange with the way her niece was hyper-fixated on the blonde volleyball coach. Nobody knew things were going to turn out as well as they did.

Ukai finally stopped tending to the farm after five years of dedication and, instead, began helping [name] at the club on nights he wasn’t Spira. It was a weird sense of pride that surged within his center to know that the two of them both had their own businesses and both were relatively successful—it made Ukai feel powerful.

Like it wasn’t entirely wrong that the two of them were together despite the eight year gap.

And, in their world, it wasn’t. [name], while she rarely showed it, suffered a lot of heartbreak during and after her relationship with Sugawara Koushi—one that left her with a lot of metaphorical scars that mentally aged her by at least five years. It took years for her to heal, to feel content in her solidarity, and that aged her even more. In a sense, however, these also drove her ambition to be successful, her true, fun-loving self, and to share the love she wished she had received back then.

It took a few months for Keishin to unearth just how badly Suga had hurt her. After hearing how manipulative he was of her and everyone around her, it was no wonder she made it a point to love loudly and overtly—something Ukai seemed to thrive off of. While their relationship may have appeared strange to those on the outside looking in, it was nobody’s business but theirs.

It was even more peculiar from an outsider perspective considering the couple had just welcomed their son barely three months ago. “You literally fucked a baby into me!” [name] had been a cross between flustered, angry, and overjoyed when she found out of her pregnancy. Keishin’s mind was a mile a minute when she told him, but he couldn’t deny the sense of pride and lust and desire he felt.

If anything, it only made those feelings worse—like he wanted to do it again and again because goddamn it, it meant that [name] was entirely his, carrying their baby and all. But she knew her partner well enough to know when Keishin got that dangerous, nearly predatory, glint in his honey brown eyes, he was aiming for kid number two. “Thank god I’m on birth control.” She often mutters between catching her breath whenever the mood struck the volleyball coach.

“So you don’t mind if I keep trying then, right?”

“Keishin, no—“

“Oh, so you don’t mind?”

“Keishin!”

Thank you all for bearing through this lengthy monstrosity! Again, I had a whole bunch of fun writing it.

[kessielrg]

[Kingdom Hearts] When you give a bunny kid a cake…

Summary: After living for so long with a pack of toddlers, you grow used to their sweet doe eyes when they're about to get in trouble. Ventus has not grown such an immunity toward Oswald's sextuplet bunny kids and as such they recruit him into sneaking the ultimate treat; Ortensia's triple chocolate silk cake. [lowkey requested by @chibi-mushroom and the idea was just too adorable not to ignore]

Rating: K

Word Count: 2,714 words

If you like this story, please reblog!

---

When Ortensia invited them over for a small fall party, Ventus didn't quite think he'd spend most of the time trapped in his girlfriend's bedroom. Not that they were doing anything exciting to begin with. Playing mancala had been Sabrina's idea, but now she looked like she was ready to go to sleep. She laid against her stomach with her head cradled in her arms, the mancala board at the foot of her bed, and Ven volunteering to sit on the floor. Sabrina's eyes drooped lower whenever Ven took his turn.

“You're allowed to go to sleep.” he told her at some point. “It's just me, Terra, and Aqua.”

“And Vanitas.” she spat back. “There's no way I'm going to sleep with that creeper in arm's distance.”

And so, indirectly, Ventus now had the reason why she had him trapped in her room. She needed someone to keep her awake. Someone that wasn't going to be too loud or annoying just by sharing a room with her. Someone, in other words, that she trusted.

He did not feel lucky knowing he was that someone.

“What did you do last night?” he then asked her. “You look so… dead inside.”

Sabrina opened her mouth to retort -a possible 'that's because I feel dead inside' if he knew her well- but was cut off with six little voices calling, “Sabreenie! Sabreenie!” from the other side of the door. Without skipping a beat, Sabrina shouted back;

“Buzz off!”

“But we need you Sabreenie!” three voices told her.

“And Ven-Ven too!” a single voice reminded them.

“Yes! And Ven-Ven too!” two others chorused in agreement.

Sabrina let out a low groan as she buried her head further into her arms.

Even though he knew she didn't want to hear it, Ven told her, “Can't you humor them for now? They are your siblings.”

“Not by blood.” she grumbled as she started to get off her bed anyway. Ven fought the urge to fondly smile at her while she sat straight up, and rubbed the sleep from her eyes using the palm of her hand. It looked enough like a scene from a movie that Ven wondered if she did it for show.

His opinion on this was squashed easily when she did rise to her feet. If it wasn't obvious Sabrina was exhausted, it became quickly apparent as she made her way to the door. She had a light, unintentional sway to her gait, which almost led to her bumping into the mannequin she used to test outfits before she wore them. It was actually kinda weird that she had it out- she usually hid it in her closet when guests were coming over.

Regardless, she made it to her door with otherwise ease. Sabrina opened the door and was greeted to six bunny children. They had stacked themselves by their shoulders- but even with the added height, the bunny kid on top was just barely tall enough to see above Sabrina's shoulders.

“You have three minutes.” Sabrina said to the bunny kid on top.

“Mama made a cake!” they happily told her.

Sabrina cocked an eyebrow at them. “And…?”

“Mama told Junior, Roy, Ray, Ruth, Herb, and Elias that cake has to wait until dinner.” came the sullen reply. All six of the bunny kids hung their head in misery.

“And I assume you want it now?”

The bunny children eagerly nodded in unison. Their little tower swayed for a moment from the small weight change, but the six were able to readjust quickly.

“Why didn't you guys get Vanitas?” Sabrina then wondered, casting them a suspicious glance.

“Van-Van is napping now.” one of the bunny kids told her. The others gave a solemn nod in agreement.

“But why Ventus too?”

“Sabreenie always hides Ven-Ven.” the bunny kid on top told her.

“We want to play now!” the others happily chorused.

“In other words,” their adoptive older sister mused as she leaned against her door frame, “You need a scapegoat.”

“Why would they need a scapegoat?” Ven curiously wondered, appearing by Sabrina's side. His girlfriend looked back at him with a disinterested raise of her eyebrow.

“When you give a bunny kid a cake,” she informed him, “Nothing after will go down in your favor.”

Now it was Ventus's turn to give her a funny look. He looked back at the bunny kids and saw their pitiful little faces. It was absolutely heartbreaking seeing their long faces; Ven could already hear a few random bars from Sarah McLachlan's Angel playing in the distance. 'In the arms of a bunny child...'

“Aw, come on Sabi,” he tried to gently tease, “Look at them. Look at those sad little faces...”

There wasn't even a moment of hesitation before she spat, “Those are the same faces they make before half the house gets set on fire.”

The bunny children let out a unified sound of surprise, then gave her a rather prude raspberry. Even with her being a good 13 years older than them, Sabrina retaliated with a raspberry of her own.

“You know,” Ven gently said to her, “You're not much different.” To the bunny kids proper, he said, “I'll help you.”

Unified squeal of joy came from the bunny kids as they hopped off each other and into Sabrina's room. Once everyone was in her room, Sabrina grimaced as she shut the door. The bunny kids might have been small, but with all six it still seemed like there wasn't enough room for everyone. Sabrina sat back down on her bed as Ven and the bunny kids started with their game plan.

“Our plan is simple,” he told the kids with a sense of mirth, “Ortensia usually leaves the cake in the fridge before we actually eat it. To avoid a crumb trail -literally- we should take it to the laundry room. All we really need to do is get some plates and forks from the…”

“This isn't going to work.”

Ventus and the bunny children looked over at Sabrina with the same look of bewilderment. It was Ven who soon gave her a rather cheeky grin before asking, “Jealous because our plan doesn't involve you?”

“Hardly.” Sabrina snorted. “While it is rather smart to eat it in the laundry room, Ortensia will hear you all clatter around the kitchen like a batch of chickens with their heads cut off.”

Ven's face immediately fell. “Oh.”

“This is where a divide and conquer plan would come in handy.” Sabrina went on, moving herself so the other seven could get a better look at her. She even pulled out the mancala board to better illustrate her plans. “Half of the six will go distract Terra and Aqua by directing them outside, the other half will keep Ortensia upstairs. Maybe Oswald too, but he's either-or in this kind of situation.”

“But who's getting the cake?” Ven asked, looking up at her with a curious tilt of his head.

“You are.” she claimed. “Alone.”

“Why just me?”

“Because I am making this plan foolproof, and I don't want to get between Ortensia while she's in guest kisser mode.”

Ventus recoiled a little and didn't look at her directly when he mumbled, “I wouldn't say Aqua, Terra, and I are guests...”

“You're not,” Sabrina affirmed with a huff, “But try telling Tense that.”

Ven let out a contemplative hum before looking down at the bunny kids. They looked back up at him with wide, adoring eyes that practically read 'isn't our big sister the best?' When he turned to Sabrina again, Ventus admittedly (and rather embarrassingly) zoned out slightly as she went over the plan to her siblings. There was a sense of concentration etched into her furrowed eyebrows as she went on. If she wasn't so interested in fashion and aesthetics, Sabrina would have made a good strategist.

“Roy, Ray, and Junior, take Ortensia upstairs and be loud about it. Junior might want to cause an 'accident' in the bathroom to be sure. Pops can jump in on that if it's real bad, so he's out of your hair too. Ruth, Elias, and Herb, your job is probably the easiest because Aqua and Terra love the stuffing out of you. Take them outside and show them your jack-o-lanterns. They should still be standing perky after a month. If not, make up a sob story of how much hard work you put into them and now they're rotting. Get some waterworks going and Terra will be eating out of the palm of your hand. All in all, you can only hold Mom's attention for about ten minutes before she figures something is up. Ven should have gotten the cake by then, so let's make that our time limit. Everyone good? Good. Break.”

“Break!” the bunny children immediately repeated with a clap of their hands. The six of them immediately left Sabrina's room to do as they were instructed. Ven remained where he was for a moment. Sabrina looked at him, a soft smirk appeared on her face.

“You didn't hear a word of that, did you?” she asked him.

“Of course I did!” he told her as he stood up. “I just gotta wait for the Six to clear everyone from the kitchen, then I've got less than 10 minutes to take the cake from the fridge and to the laundry room.”

A small snicker came from his girlfriend as she shook her head. “Good guess.” she gently teased. “Now go steal that cake before Ortensia finds out.”

. . .

Sabrina could deny it all she wanted, but the bunny kids got their sense of stealth from her. Or maybe the plan she made really was foolproof. Ventus waited out in the living room while the bunny kids tried to distract their respective roadblocks. Terra and Aqua had been easy targets; at least one of the bunny kids hopping into Terra's arms, and the other two tugging at Aqua's skirt to get her attention. Ortensia was harder to budge. It took two bunny kids to finally make her crack- running down the stairs (how they got up undetected to begin with was beyond Ven) in hysteria.

Just to be sure though, Ventus did wait an extra minute or so before going into the kitchen. He tried to walk as casually as possible, but the sudden anticipation of getting caught made him want to walk on tiptoes. He did find it rather hilarious that Sabrina as indirectly trying to help hide the noise he could have made in the kitchen- not that Cheyenne Kimball's One Original Thing was the best soundtrack to this moment.

Ventus carefully peeled the door to the refrigerator open and nearly let out a sigh of relief to see that cake was placed on one of the higher shelves. It had to be a higher shelf because of the Six, even if they attempted a bunny stack, but it must have been too high for Oswald and Ortensia too. Terra or Aqua must have placed it up there. For Ven, it was an easily reach and careful extraction. He set the cake down on the counter with care.

Ortensia had really outdone herself with the cake's presentation. Looking to be about three tiers, the cake was covered entirely with chocolate frosting with hand piped rosettes around the top edge. In the center was a neatly twirled covering of whipped cream, hand cut chocolate strips decorated the top of it. For a moment, Ven almost felt bad that he was an accessory to a soon to be cake murder by six ravenous 4 year olds.

Almost.

“Cake is for after dinner, Ventus.”

Nearly jumping out of his skin, Ven quickly tried to find the source of the voice before noticing Vanitas coming down the staircase. His twin had an undeniable smirked etched on his face. Seeing it made Ven's blood run cold.

“What are you doing in the kitchen?” he questioned. It sounded so accusatory, as if Ventus himself wasn't trying to do something that would have warranted the wrath of some very angry adults.

“Woke up from my nap and the wabbits weren't there.” came the reply, simple as day. “Came downstairs to harass Terra, I guess, and here I run into you…” Vanitas looked his older twin up and down with a smirk on his face before asking, “What'cha gonna do with that cake, Ven?”

“Eat it.” came the automatic answer. Ventus immediately flinched upon hearing himself. This answer only seemed to amuse Vanitas as he got closer.

“All alone?” he snorted. “I doubt that very seriously.” That was when a certain thought crossed his mind that almost made him laugh hard enough to tears. “This is a cover up operation! Hate to break it to you Ven-Ven, but giving Sabreenie a whole cake isn't gonna help with her seasonal depression.”

Ventus's face immediately scrunched into distaste. “She doesn't have...” he tried to argue, but was soon distracted when one of the bunny kids came down the staircase. The tiny four year old gave the cake a look, drooled a little, and in realizing that Vanitas was there, got right back into action.

“Hey there, squeaky.” Vanitas greeted when the little rabbit jumped high enough to be noticed. “What's eating you?”

But the bunny kid was speaking so quickly, it was hard to follow exactly what they were trying to tell Vanitas. Knowing that the message wasn't easily going through, the bunny kid changed tactics, leading Vanitas into the living room. Ven could only watch in a small awe as Vanitas willingly followed the bunny kid. Apparently Terra wasn't the only pushover when it came to them…

Ven shook his head. The mission was almost a success, and with the unexpected roadblock gone, he had to finish the deed. Carefully picking up the cake again, Ventus made his way around to the laundry room. It was no hassle in setting the cake down on top of the dryer. Letting out a small sound of relief, Ven wiped an imaginary bead of sweat from his brow. He left the laundry room as quietly as he entered it. The mission was accomplished- now all he needed to do was tell the bunny kids and possibly get them a spoon or two.

Going into the living room did lead to a small shock. Somehow, the bunny kid that had gone to distract Vanitas had gotten the teenager to go back to sleep. It took everything it had in Ventus not to let out an unflattering snort. When the bunny kid noticed him, Ven was given a doe eyed look of question. At his nod, the bunny kid let out a happy, “Thank you!” before bounding off to get the others. It was rather adorable, honestly, and Ven felt good about himself as he went into the kitchen to get spoons for the seven of them.

He didn't expect for all six of the bunny children to beat him back into the laundry room by the bunny kids. Someone really needed to come up with a reason why these kids were so fast. It didn't seem right.

“Ven-Ven helped us...” the oldest of the bunny children decided.

“So he gets first slice!” the others finished off with a solemn nod.

Ven chuckled a little. He took his spoon and made a rather generous scoop of cake. Normally, doing such a thing would have physically hurt him. But at the moment, knowing that the cake wasn't going to survive much longer, he chose to ignore it.

“I think this is all I need.” he decided out loud. He gave them all a smile before adding, “Thank you.”

“Is it for Sabreenie?” one of the bunny children curiously wondered. But Ven looked at them for a moment before giving a sly wink. The bunny kids went into a flurry of giggles as Ven started to leave. A smile was also pressed into the corners of Ventus's lips. Sabrina had been a major factor in their cake heist, so of course she deserved a piece of it too. Sure, cake might not help much with seasonal depression, but at least it could show that he still cared about her. And that, for now, was enough.

[followedbyraven]

A journey into God’s mind

Chuck’s motivation in obsessively writing the same end - is what has been on my mind in quite a while. So far he is a megalomaniac villain with no proper cause. And for the love of everything a villain without a motive is of not interest to me. 

As a long time fanfic writer I don’t understand Chuck’s bullheaded insistence with “brother killing brother” and end-of-the-world themes. When my characters happen to say a resound “NO!” to what my sick brain is cooking, I listen to them, this is my subconscious letting me know that I’m about to make a really wrong move. And then I do my best to find a solution, which may be not necessary as dramatic, but nevertheless satisfying.

So I said to myself: “Let’s find us a motive!” and embarked on a journey.

So basically to understand my theory of Chuck’s obsession first I have to explain a bit about the particular bit of “Lucifer” TV show which gave me an idea. I doubt many people don’t know this show, but just in case, bear with me. It’s a show dealing with Biblical lore and main character is the Lucifer himself (although much less boring, than in SPN). He is funny, adorable and with a bucket full of issues. And yes, he also can be terrifying! 

In episode 2x12 “Love Handles” the villain of the episode and the long arc is a professor, who, when finding himself in a burning car, saved his dissertation and not a student driving it. This act made him an outcast and he eventually proceeded to blackmail successful people, putting them in a morally black and white scenarios: their life’s foundation (face of a movie star, hands of a chirurg) versus someones life. All for the quest to prove (as much to people around as to himself) that he couldn't be blamed for what happened. That the choice he made was a right one.

And here I see a clear parallel with SPN, maybe a crazy one but in my mind it fits perfectly. 

Professor saved his dissertation by sacrificing a student. So he became obsessed with proving that he did the right thing. It was the work of his life after all. 

Chuck in order to create his lifework, the Universe, sacrificed his sister, The Darkness. 

Professor was aiming at famous people, prominent figures, heroes we may call them to bring parallel to SPN (from star actor to renowned chirurg, whose hands saved many lives). All to prove that he was right in his choice. Chuck chose heroes, siblings, nurtured them, build them up, and then let them kill each other (I’m sure that Cain’s dilemma came directly from under Chuck’s pen). So he is obsessed to prove to himself, subconsciously most of all, that locking for the end of time, losing his sister, to save/create his masterpiece, his life work, was a right thing to do. 

This is his perfect tragedy, dramatic exit - to be left alone, without his sibling, by his own hand, surrounded by what was at that moment the most important thing in his mind, his Creation. And Chuck repeats this scenario over, and over, and over again, stuck in his disability to understand that this idea comes from his own dirty deed, his own ego, his own choice. To prove to himself first and foremost that his masterpiece is more important than his family, that he was right in locking Amara.

It’s a perfect mirror of his own choices, and he bends fates of others to meet this obsessive scenario, so his brain (or whatever he uses for one) can process the enormity of his one single action, which was the point of creation, of light for the Universe, and the moment of perfect darkness for the Creator himself. 

So he was left alone with his creations, and at first, the novelty of it was enough, the new voices demanding his attention were enough. As long as he could forget about the fate of his sister. And for a short time that nagging voice in his head became just a whisper. 

In time he reached his ceiling as Creator by making humanity, his masterpiece, and managed to keep the insistent whisper away a bit longer. 

But inevitably Chuck got bored, lost interest, cause he, as many other supernatural beings, doesn’t see humanity as equal. He couldn’t see that he truly created something amazing, not only in his image, but also in his spirit (and in madness, we’re just much better at dealing with it). There was a phrase in one of the episodes that even angels don’t really understand what human SOULS are. It always left me wondering.

So as I was saying, chuck got bored, the whisper (locked Amara, his guilty consciousness) become louder, and that is when his true madness, his obsession with idea of siblings killing each other as the perfect tragedy, the perfect end of the story began. He plays it in different ways to prove to himself that this is the only natural, true end for any great story, the perfect justification for his reasons, that it was the only way. 

What interesting is, that “Lucifer’s” professor says: “Choice is an illusion” and kills himself.

Just like Chuck connects the perfect end of his “choice is an illusion” dance with the end of his creation. 

He started on this road while Amara was still under lock, and I don’t think that Winchesters would be the last of heroes Chuck played with if only they followed the script. Until they freed Amara, bringing in his mind the story to its perfect end. In his twisted mind there can be only one choice: Amara or his masterpiece. And with Amara freed he started unraveling his life’s work, for there may be only one or another. 

We can say that making humans in his (and Amara’s) image was the first unconscious step on the road to perfect tragedy. And I’m not talking about human bodies, I’m talking about our very souls. Human souls begin as bright as light of the creation. I’m speculating here, but as any true artist Chuck imbedded his perfect creation with the tiny bitty pieces of himself.  The difference is that light can be tarnished, darkened, and remind Chuck too much or Amara, his locked sister. And thus the Hell was created, where those tarnished souls were sent, away from his sight, in order for Chuck to continue his existence in ignorance. So he banishes those souls to Hell, locks them away. Just. Like. Amara. Another mirror on a bigger scale. 

Why then not a perfect mirror, why not brother and sister, why two brothers? Here I’m going even deeper into speculating. Two sisters - may be too much of Amara reminder. He has to first build them up, give them power, luck, make them into heroes. That’s a tad too much of a girl’s power for Chuck. He sees Amara as oppressive force to start with and I doubt he is willing to go down that road. Intimidation would be too much and Chuck can barely deal with two stubborn Winchesters, he doesn’t need to add psychological pressure for good measure. Brother and sister? That’s really awfully too close to home for his liking, it can't stay in subconscious anymore and would force him to take a good hard look at himself. 

Another point of interest - why Dean? Why through all obviously written by Chuck situations, it’s Dean who most often comes to the point when flow of events demand from him killing Sam. Down to the point of making Dean invincible when he was marked with the Mark of Cain, so it is he who eventually was supposed to do the deed.

What I think is that Chuck identifies strongly with Dean. Not so much as them being similar, more - Chuck wants to be Dean, have that level of courage, endurance and inner strength of spirit. 

That is why he wants specifically Dean to perform his, Chuck’s part of the scenario. There is a lot of admiration, which falls in line with the level of anger when Dean keeps disappointing Chuck by refusing to play by his rules, continuously steps off the script.

There is a mirror to that too in earlier seasons. Metatron vs Castiel. I’m sure it’s a kind of old news and many metas have been written about it. I just wanted to connect it one more time to the rest of my musings about Chuck.

Metatron was also strongly identifying himself with Cas for all the same reasons. And he also wanted Cas to play the villain of the story at the same time trying on Cas's trench coat and posing in front of the mirror. Metatron understands that Castiel is not a villain, but he so desperately wants Cas to be one. The fallen hero. In that aspect Gadreel played the reflection of Castiel perfectly. The difference is - Castiel doesn’t want to be either, hero or villain (he learned the price of that the hard way), he just does what he thinks is right. Gadreel wanted to be again a hero, wanted to climb back on pedestal, no matter the cost.

Same with Chuck and Dean, mirroring Chuck making himself very, very comfortable in the bunker, the Dean's true domain, his home. 

Both Chuck now and Metatron then are trying to make their chosen ones follow the written by them script.

I would almost call it a foreshadowing (if then unintentional, who knows, maybe writers thought back to season which was it, 9? and thought: oh, but that would fit nicely with s15 arc), despite so many seasons between these two story lines.

This is it, the journey into God’s mind complete. Hope you N-joyed. 

@verobatto-angelxhunter

[hollywoodhangar]

( canon muse meme ) 1, 3, for Red & Vaggie and 7 forrrrr Agatha? ( no screen shot needed descrip is cool )

questions for muns of canon muses! // @bitofthisandthat​ // accepting

What is the biggest headcanon deviation from the canon material that you have incorporated into the way you write your muse? Why did you come up with it?

MADAM RED ( I assume you mean Madam Red! ).

Madam Red is a character we unfortunately don’t have a lot of depth on, or story that wasn’t relevant to the plot. No info into her personal life outside of a glimpse to the past, nothing to delve deeper into other aspects of her personality. We get that she’s a socialite and clearly capable of being the life of a party, and not to mention she’s armed with crude humor, but everything else is left in the wind.

My biggest headcanon would be that her feelings for Vincent was honestly.. different, than what we thought. Oh, she fell in love with him, but rather, she fell in love with the fantasized, romanticized version of him that her mind had made, something those around her age were prone to do. He was better than any man, he was perfect, he was kind, he was gentle, he was funny he was without flaw and he was in love with her. It was the day she found out that Rachel and Vincent were due to be wed that such a fabrication was torn down, and the reality of the situation really hit her, and the truth that her love for Vincent was actually.. absent. 

There was a fondness there for him, but it was built through having companionship. Those talks, those walks, the way he listened to her and encouraged her ideas. Marriage was the essential duty for a woman back then, down to giving birth to sons, so a girl can easily lose herself to the idea of a fantasized romance to subconsciously cope with the situation more easily and make it more thrilling, which is what Angelina did without even recognizing it.

Really, as it turned out, Angelina just.. cared for him. She heard the men of Phantomhive were charming and they were darling, and vied for incredibly, just as much as the women were, and so she expected to fall genuinely head-over-heels. In actuality, she found a good friend in Vincent. 

There was the heartbreak to deal with of course, the mourning for her idealisms, but when that was processed, she was peppy and she was forming a tight bond with Vincent that honestly went deep. Nothing scandalous, nothing infidel, just purely.. genuine, and platonic. There were rumors, but Rachel understood precisely what was going on and just found it to be the sweetest thing.

She loved Rachel more than anyone and anything, and Vincent was the second. When she lost the both of them, that was what collapsed her world -- not some unrequited romance. She lost her sister, and she lost perhaps the closest person she had to a best friend. 

AND SO BEGINS THE READ MORE BECAUSE IT GETS DARK FROM HERE.

VAGGIE.

She’s a sinner, and some are bad habits she can snap right back into if she isn’t careful. She’s not a “nice girl” who ended up in Hell for no reason – she was a terrible person, and she was a proud one with no intent to change her ways. Life treated her hard, so she decided to make herself into a twisted version of a diamond. She committed infidelity by sleeping with female clients who were married, she sometimes used the five finger discount in stores, she skipped the bill she couldn’t pay for (however, she did tip well), and was responsible for threatening and beating some pretty innocent folk into a pulp who were a witness to anything she did.

Bad habits such as violence is the one sin she is very, very easy to snap back into, specifically when someone is being absolutely intolerable to either Charlie or herself. Stealing is the other bad habit, but this one she’s actually become very in control of and has girded herself from doing. There’s the habit of looking at something expensive and calculating its potential worth, but she’s come so far as to being able to shake herself from the mindset. This came with help from Charlie, who comforts her that there will never be a situation where Vaggie has to steal to survive ever again.

To be honest, I headcanon that Vaggie was Charlie’s first (unintentional) client, and what I think really sold the Demon Princess on the idea that demons can be redeemed. She knew Vaggie during her indulgent days of sin, and she watched how she evolved into being a better person who actually strives to do better. The Vaggie we see (I roleplay) is the end result of long, long work in self-improvement and endless streams of support. She’s more in control of her anger, she’s mellowed her personality, and Charlie’s mined a long-since-hardened sympathy back into the light.

GRANTED, we have nothing confirmed as to why Vaggie ended up in Hell in the first place – plenty of speculation sure, but no hint. This is just what I’ve made up. It adds weight to her (well-reasoned) skepticism of Alastor, “He can’t be redeemed, and he’s likely looking for a way to destroy EVERYTHING we’re trying to do.” – she says this as the first rehabilitated, because she’s been through the ring, and she knows people like him from before and after her fall to Hell.

What is something that was never addressed at all in the canon material that you have independently developed for your muse?

MADAM RED.

Aforementioned; a backstory! We got glimpses, but not enough. I’ll keep one of the main things short that has to do with that: Becoming Jack the Ripper was not the first time Angelina had actually taken a life. A few years before Rachel got engaged to Vincent, the Matriarch of the Durless family was said to have committed suicide, when the reality was Angelina witnessed her father bash her mother’s head in with an iron and throw her from the balcony to sell the story she “cracked her head” from such a fall. 

It was a horrifying secret Angelina had kept to herself, and for good reason, because after Rachel married Vincent and moved out, she killed their father and made it look like a suicide. A “tragic, poetic death”, the Yard would say -- a man driven to suicide by the death of his wife, and taking his life in the same way she took hers, from the same balcony no less.

With no one left, Angelina inherited the family fortune and became the Baroness of Durless. No one is none the wiser, except for Grell, who confirmed that her mother’s death was no suicide --- else, she’d be seen around reaping the souls of London, too.

VAGGIE.

There’s not been enough attention on Vaggie yet for anything to be addressed, unfortunately! But I think the big one I’d have to point out is her eye, which has sparked speculation. Some think she’s a fallen angel, others think it has something to do with Angel Dust.. Me? I personally developed it into involvement with her death.

Alastor was killed with a gunshot to the forehead, and briefly, we see an ‘x’ during one of his glitchy scenes in that very spot, so that leads me to believe anyone with a red ‘x’ on their body carries an indicator into where their killing blow went - if there is any at all. Vaggie has two black ‘x’s, although in the form of fashion, over her chest, and the giant ‘x’ over her right eye. I headcanon these were the three places she was shot when she was murdered – the killing blows. Two shots to the chest, and one right through the eye, which led to a very gruesome crime scene.

For movie or TV muses, what is your muse’s favorite scene? Why? Can you show a screenshot?

AGGIE CROMWELL.

( you get one anyways bc it’s cute uwu ) 

Taking Marnie for her first broomflight. She would’ve been so happy if she could have given Sophie and Dylan theirs, but for what she was able.. It was definitely this, because there is an absolute thrill in seeing your grandkids reactions to their first time in the sky, especially if magic is new to them.

[captiancap]

Man eater (pt3)

Mastiff is waiting by his warehouse when you arrive. You walk up to him, silent. He looks down at you, also silent. It's like that for a little bit and then he sighs.

"Are you comfortable being alone with me?" He asks. Fuck him for being so considerate. You tell him not really but it's the only way to move forward so you'll do it. He doesn't like that answer.

"You can walk away right now. I won't blame you for it. I won't contact you ever again if that's what you want." He says sternly.

You groan and say that you're not leaving. It's a closure thing.

He pauses but goes and unlocks his warehouse door. He holds it open for you as you walk inside. The motion sensors make the lights turn on. Great, you'll be able to see your death coming now.

Mastiff shuts the door, looking at you for a few seconds. "What do you want to see first?" He asks.

The question catches you off guard and you're not how to respond so you just say 'whatever'.

He sighs, face palming softly, he takes a deep breath and moves his bangs out of his face. His eyes are round and pitch black. As you stare you notice that he has more then two. There's another set on his temples and as he pulls his hair back and out of the way you see two more pairs going along the sides of his head.

They all blink and you shiver a bit.

He takes off his shirt next. You're familiar with the front. Solid chest, soft belly, lots of hair. It's when he turns around that you audibly gasp.

There's a vertical deep black laceration on his back along his spine. Dark veins spread out from in like a spider web. He takes a breath and then the cracking starts.

Oh god the cracking...

You can see his bones move and shift as his spine snaps and these large black appendages emerge from his back. There's 4 of them, all slick with a shiny clear substance, they form a sort of cage around Mastiff. He turns to see your horrified face and stops to contemplate this whole thing.

You can see the wheels turning in his head so you clear your throat and tell him to continue. He looks at you, unsure. Funny, you don't think you've ever seen him look unsure. You wave your hand in a 'carry on' motion.

He cracks his neck and opens his mouth. You see the fangs from before so you thought you were prepared. Well you weren't. His jaw stretched past what a normal persons could and began to slit along his face as rows of similar black fangs fling out like switch blades.

Two more appendages come from the back of his mouth. Like pincers. He also seems to be making these unintentional clicking and hissing noises. With a mouth like that there was no possible way of any human communication.

You stare at him. He stares at you. After a few second he shifts back to normal and reaches down to grab his shirt from the floor. "So," he says "That's me." He puts his shirt back on. His cheeks are bleeding slightly from being tore open but they heal quick.

"I'm an arachnosapien. Not sure what kind so don't ask." He says, looking at your face, reading your reaction.

You... you don't know how to feel. On one hand that was absolutely terrifying and gruesome. On the other hand it's Mastiff and he trusts you enough to show you this and it was a little bit hot and god just fuck him for being so easy to love.

He sniffs slightly and obviously tries to hold back a chuckle. You glare at him, asking what's so funny. He shrugs, "I was hoping you'd accept me but I didn't expect such a... positive reaction." He mused while looking down at your crotch.

He always said he could smell when you were in the mood but you thought it was a joke. Apparently not. You scoff and cross your arms. He takes a step closer to you, reaching for you, but stops. He sighs.

"Theres... more. I'm sure you're wondering about the whole 'eating people' thing..." He looks reluctant but you insist that yes that was something you were hoping to get some explanation on. "My kind need to eat alot. Our bodies function fast and we use up energy fast. We're also carnivores mainly, so we need a large about of raw meat, and in a place like this... the most available source is people." You open your mouth to say something and he stops you. "Yes I've tried other things but my father was stupid and once my kind grow up eating something it's hard for our systems to process anything else. I can eat normal food but it doesn't do much in the sense of sustaining me. I'm one of the lucky ones, if my brother eats anything except raw flesh he gets severally sick and close to death." He looks down. "I don't eat innocent people though. Muggers, rapists, abusive partners, pimps... they are my main diet."

Your mind can't help but conger up the image of your boyfriend as some vigilante stalking the scum of the city like they were easy prey. You're a bit proud of him for it. Just a bit.

You take a step closer to him. Then another, then another, and before you know it you've closed the distance between the two of you and you're wrapped in his arms. You can feel in his back that things are still settling back into place.

You sigh into his chest, look up at him, and ask if there's anything else you should know.

"Other then the fact I sell the organs I don't eat on the black market, not really." He states bluntly. You think you now understand what other types of things are in the containers he keeps replacing and why he has one of the few air conditioned warehouses in the whole district. Honestly that's not the craziest thing you've heard today so you intentionally tuck it away for later.

"Also... I love you." He says.

You blush and nuzzle into his chest. You take a moment to think about your life. Everything you've been taught about right and wrong. You come to the conclusion that being with Mastiff feels right no matter how wrong the way he eats is.

You tell him you are officially the biggest idiot in the world. He seems confused. You look up at him. Into his eyes. His dark, clever eyes. You ask if you can go home.

He seems sad for a moment before you kiss his weird, disgusting, probably-ate-a-pedophile mouth. "Our home." You clarify. He agrees immediately.

It feels good being back in Mastiffs apartment. You flop on the bed and revel in how much the sheets smell like him. He joins you on the bed, caressing your head as you snuggle against him.

"We're still together right?" He asks.

You chuckle slightly and nod. He sighs in relief. You drift off to sleep in his hold.

No dreams. No warehouse. Just peace.

When you tell your friend the next day about how you and Mastiff got back together she is estatic. She doesn't ask any questions and you're thankful for that. Mastiff also thanks her for keeping what little she does know as a secret. Her reasoning is 'Hey sometimes cannibalism is hot.'

You scoffed when she said that but soon found that, sometimes, yes, it was hot. You were woken up at 1 in the morning a few weeks after fully moving in with Mastiff. You found him in the living room, gloves and shirt stained red and his mouth just beginning to close. He looked satisfied but still buzzed with energy. His multiple eyes easily spotted you on the stairs.

You squeaked and rushed back upstairs. He followed you, chuckling darkly. His sense of smell was too good sometimes.

He caught you by the ankle as you tried to hide under the blankets, hoisting you up so he could see your face. The excitement in your eyes, the small smile at being caught, it was different from his other prey. But you were always different from other humans to him.

He made you scream alot that night. Some out of terror but most from pleasure. You began looking forward to that small period of time when he was just coming down from the thrill of the kill. Happy, with his hunger fulfilled but still aware and dangerous. Still a predator. Your predator.

It was even better when you found out that the first week of January was a very special "heat" season for him. But that's a story for another time. You were happy with your spider. He was happy with you. You loved your big scary man eater more than anything and maybe that makes you crazy, but you're pretty sure you're fine with that.

[hyperionswrath--archived]

@onepartbrave

Huh. You really did learn something new every day—who knew? Squall blinked at the newfound information freely given. Considerately given? Crownsguard were different to the Glaives but held similar roles—just to different people? The name was a given, he supposed, Kingsglaives. A random thought of being sworn to one person was awkward but wasn’t he in the same position as SeeD? A grimace began down turning his lips and folding his brow as further unanswered questions joined the pile already growing. As often as he did it, he hated overthinking. Too much noise drove him insane as it was, but inside his cranium was far worse.  

Still… he couldn’t deny the perks. Summoning a weapon of choice at a whim? Yeah, he could get behind that. Though he liked the reassuring weight of a gunblade at his side, they were far too notable and bulky to sneak anywhere. ‘Pretty cool’ indeed… Knowing he didn’t need to voice the sentiment for it to be understood, he bypassed a verbal answer and completely skipped Seifer’s playful taunting concerning Squall’s unintentional staring. Imagine addressing the blond’s ridiculous statements about his physique? Squall’d never hear the end of it. Plus, with all the admiring stares from all walks of gender, he needn’t one more from him.

Although, he mused Seifer deserved a little effort on his behalf to keep a conversation and weaponry was something Squall could blabber on about for ages. “At my hotel,” he explained simply, noting more wouldn’t kill him. “…Still in top condition all these years later. Just as quick too.”  

Clearing his throat lightly, his mind wandered to Hyperion and its current status. Assuming the imposing blade to be within the disappearing roster Seifer had, he couldn’t help but desire a gander. Weapons were something he could do. They didn’t require sentiment, emotional outbursts or persistent company. When something went wrong or broke, his intimate knowledge on the model meant it was fixed in a matter of hours so long as he had the pieces. If he pissed off a person, it’d sometimes taken days to remedy it. Days. There were exceptions to every cause, of course, and those were the companions he’d gotten much better at reading and contending with. But in general… hand him sharp objects used for maiming over interpersonal relationships any day.  

Strolling along in silence, clearly having given up already on the chatting part, he matched Seifer’s stride and kept up with ease. Inquisitive eyes darted this way and that as he navigated unfamiliar streets with the blond as his guide. Architecture was unlike any he’d seen before, inspiring both a modern and regal image simultaneously. Not as in your face with technology as Esthar yet not as old timey and ‘we refuse to accept change’ as Deling City. A refreshing alteration. Hell, even the air felt cleaner… until Seifer decided to pollute both it and his system with a cigarette.  

Keeping that remark to himself, Squall nodded concurringly and bypassed the blond to enter the building. A fleeting inspection of the sigh plastered to the door—‘The Last Resort’? How fitting—he pushed inside and was greeted with unexpected warmth. Blinking the abrupt dryness from his eyes, he gave them an irritable rub with the back of one sleeve. Vision clearer, he performed a once-over check of the establishment, noting any escape routes other than the obvious entrance. Not that he’d remember later if his plan to get irresponsibly wasted went through without a hitch.  

Falling back on his anointed assignment, he sought out a cosy, cushioned booth in the corner that had a large curve of seat. Good, should he fall over at any point, he’d fall on something soft. He just needed to stay central. Seifer could take one side and risk toppling to the floor, he was hard-headed enough to not succumb to an injury. Shimmying his way onto the designated seat, he butt-shuffled around with slight awkwardness, grunting in mild pain when his knee collided with an unfortunate low beam in the middle.

Shrugging off the spark of irritation, he snagged one of the menus showcased on the tabletop. The front page displayed a cartoony version of the pub’s exterior, well drawn and admirable work, and recited the basic information of address and contact information. Storing the titbits away for a later date (if it was decent food and a good atmosphere, he might venture there again during his mandatory vacation), he opened the first of two pages inside. A list of delectable looking starters glared back at him and he scowled faintly when his stomach rumbled in pre-emptive appreciation. His own fault, he hadn’t eaten anything substantial since breakfast.

Deciding then he was going to get some food alongside his future binge, impatient grey-blue eyes peered toward the entranceway, praying silently Seifer hurried his ass along because Squall was hungry and he didn’t want to give up the perfect perch he’d gained.

Staying behind as Squall entered the pub, Seifer let himself sink against the stonewall behind him, feeling the rough quality of the bricks press through his shirt. His gaze unfocused, he made a mental note to pull himself together. When he had come here, to the Crown City, it had been to escape his past and not look back anymore. People here had their own problems and he was allowed to banish the shadows of his inglorious attempts at playing the hero in favor of doing the one thing he knew how to do right - fighting. If nothing else. And yet here he was, running into his former rival like it was just another day at Garden, after ten fucking years of successfully pushing down his guilt, far enough he could pretend all of this didn't happen. When he had firmly believed he would never see him again. Not just that but he had been stupid enough to tag along, to fall right back into his old behavioral patterns and even end up protecting the guy he once.... tried to kill. Flip the switch and it's like nothing has changed at all... Throwing himself in front of Squall to protect him the night before stemmed from two evils. One being his recklessness which had only worsened over the years when it came to getting wounded because he simply did not care. The other was deep, shame-filled guilt.

Dragging one last time on his cigarette, he huffed the smoke out with bitterness underlying the amused tone as he realized he acted like Squall in his prime with all this brooding. Eyes closing so he could regain composure, he took a deep breath, then pushed off the wall and made for the entrance. One hand pushing the door open, the tall blond stepped inside the warmth that was just a tinge too much for the still lingering warmth outside but would be most pleasant once the nightly cold set in. Emerald gaze brushed over the room, much quicker than Squall's had since he knew the place, but still following old patterns to survey the place and locate possible threats or anything conspicuous which was, given the fact they had been practically child soldiers, simply branded into his being. Soon his eyes flicked over where the brunet had made himself comfortable, another small twinge of his six-bedamned guilt tightening his chest for the briefest moment as he saw how deeply focused the other seemed to be on the menu. It reminded him acutely of simpler days, when he had spotted the man sitting around with his nose in a Weapons Monthly magazine. Shaking his head briefly to end this futile train of thoughts that continuously tried to pull him in, he made for the bar counter and knocked on it, smiling his most charming smile at the woman manning it. "Hi, could you bring us the usual? Also two shots of your best Leiden whiskey, we've got something to celebrate." Leaning back as the woman busied herself with a smile, Seifer slid one hand into his coat still draped over his shoulder and procured his phone, unlocking it with a slide and checking his messages.

Kerr had sent him about fifty messages, most of which consisted of funny images meant to cheer him up since he'd heard about his suspension. A fond smile tugged at his lips as he quickly filed through them, taking a moment to reply so the guy wouldn't worry himself sick. After pocketing his phone again, he found the two shots standing on the counter already, taking them with him as he made for the corner Squall was sitting in. Placing one of the small glasses filled with golden liquid in front of him, he quirked a brow at the irritated look on the brunet's face before throwing his uniform coat unceremoniously on the bench where it would stay until way later tonight. Movement and all had the sleeves of his shirt slide up a bit, exposing part of the tattoo on his left biceps - the likeness of the blood-red cross he had stitched on his old trenchcoat, now displayed in black ink with small red embellishments. If one was to pay closer attention to his skin due to this, they would likely also notice the fine webs of scars riddling the tall blond’s skin, marring arms and even parts of his neck, definite signs of not applying healing properly - or in time. Lifting the glass in Squall's direction now, still standing, he shot him a lopsided smile. "Well then, to unexpected run-ins that get me suspended," he toasted before downing the shot in one go, grimacing slightly at the strong burn in his throat.

"So, what's your poison, Leonhart?", he then asked, nodding briefly to the bar to signal he'd get the order. "Also don't bother with that," finger now pointing at the menu, "I ordered us a plate with their specialties." On the occasions when he came here with fellow Glaives they'd to the same, just snack away all evening while getting drunk. It was more convenient than plastering the entire table with gazillion dishes. Once the brunet would let him know what he wanted to drink, Seifer would turn and go back to the counter to place their order.