#hes a pathetic wet beast of a man in this show

[ketchup-monthly]

i finished My Adventures With Superman, and this is my only takeaway

[vinjinssunglasses]

could you write something about Yamazaki shingen can be anything

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♯┆character yamazaki shingen

♯┆summary you are somi park, the woman who conceived. Strangely, you and Shingen get closer?

♯┆cw oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, squirting, belly bulge, slight size kink (?)

♯┆w/c 4.4k

♯┆a/n first smut fic, i hope you guys enjoy!! <3 also I do not condone somi park’s actions, nor is anything in this fanfiction canon. none of this is an excuse for her actions ^-^

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The day you gave birth, you were filled with a mix of joy and emptiness. That warm feeling of joy wasn’t for yourself, it was for your own clan. Everyone cheered for you, so you should feel content too, right? Yet all you wanted to do was cry, let yourself loose with tears, hands soaking wet and makeup dripping. That child, the one who was too unworthy to bare the Yamazaki surname, was yours. And you hated it.

It reminded you of the day and nights of endless moaning from your parents, reminding over and over that you are one of the ten women to try to conceive that man’s child. Intercourse is only for those who are inlove, you firmly believe and stuck to your whole life. However there you were, taking in the ruthless thrusts of his man. His hands rest a firm grip on your hips, while his cock mercilessly spreads your hole. Yamazaki was indifferent; keeping his usual stern attitude and quietness, not sparing a sound.

It’s for your family, it’s for your clan. Those dreadful words ran through your mind endlessly. It felt like your perception of love and sex were being ripped to shreds right in front of your eyes. As soon as he finished, the room was dead silent. Not a word or a sound, other than him flipping the blanket over himself. Getting up to clean up, you only sighed as you felt it running down your leg. The mirror showed the pathetic sight of tears running down your face again. And there, the bathroom floor, you sat there curled into a ball, letting the tears run down your red cheeks while you silenced your own woeful cries.

Upon the announcement that you had conceived, you didn’t know what to feel. Relief, knowing you want to have to betray your own beliefs like that again? Or grief, knowing that the baby in your stomach could be deemed useless, and all your efforts to keep your mental state together has been futile? Everybody cheered and congratulated you nonetheless. If only somebody even cared.

That son of yours. Every time clan members reminded you, murder ran through your mind. However you were only allowed to smile and thank them. None of the idiots spared a second thought about how you felt, nor did they even ask.

‘THE HOPE OF YAMAZAKI’

As soon as that forsaken child was born, everyone seemed to take their judging eyes off of you, and onto that mistake. It was the birth of a being that was fuelled with all your grievances. All your hatred shifted onto that child, the one who was worthless enough to take up your last name, Park. Pitch black eyes and a tiny body that giggled when played with. He couldn’t even say ‘mama’, and his mere existence was worth more than yours.

The only ones by your side was the other nine women who also slept with that beast. You all made jokes to lighten the mood, yet the lingering feeling of ‘it’s all your fault’ lay deep inside your hearts. None of them congratulated you on that child, they all experienced similar to what you have. It felt as if they were your only safe space throughout this whole home.

If you were going to live here, you figured you may aswell call it home. Nothing about this place felt like home to you. It was your place of endless suffering, that felt like you were paying the price for your sins.

The first day you had to take your punishment, was the day you were scheduled to sleep with him. Everytime you even think of your last digit, you remember your trembling hand against the knife that pointed at your helpless finger.

Yubitsume, where severing a finger signifies an apology and loyalty to the clan. All of you trembled with sweat when holding that blade. Terrified gazes exchanged, you had to go through with the yakuza tradition. The reason was simple — the desire for his seed. All of you were considered lowlifes, therefore you weren’t allowed to express your opinion. As a result of these actions that were considered sins, the blood splattered over the tissues provided.

Afterwards, you were responsible for his daily tasks: bathing, cleaning, etc. It was an awkward silence, though you weren’t expecting much since he was never a speaker. Dark eyes rested on your curves as you went for a towel, in his eyes you were beautiful. The reincarnation of Aphrodite. While he would never let the words flow off his tongue, you noticed the way Shingen’s gaze rested on you for longer than it should. Though he only sat there, otherwise resting his gaze on the bathroom tiles while you scrubbed.

════════════════════════

You couldn’t help but feel bad for the boy. Gun was only young, unbeknownst of what was to happen. Born by unluckiness to serve the clan against his own will. It’ll be the only thing he knows from now on. To be a killing machine, just like his father, ‘Machine Gun’. To treat him like that, you felt terrible; absolutely ashamed.

Stopping him from having the childhood he was meant to, playing kendama with the friends he made, maybe you were part of the blame. You didn’t want to, but the vice-president presence looms over your shoulder, threatening that if you do not comply; it won’t go well. It’s not the child’s fault, he didn’t deserve any of this. If you had it your way, you’d him play kendama for as long as he pleased; never force him to fight. Still, you weren’t worth a dime to these people, therefore you were forced to your pesky mouth shut.

.

It’s strange. The contact with you two has always been the same — for the traditions of the Yamazaki clan. Then why does the air between you two feel a little lighter? It was odd enough being so casually naked around each other, even though you’ve already seen the other like this.

“How was your day?” Shingen muttered under his breath, and you paused in shock. The room fell silent as you stopped spreading the soap over his body. No, he’s not the type of guy to spare a moment of care for another. Ruthless, unforgiving and selfish is his nature; he tears his opponents limb by limb, not slowing them to spare a breath before they meet their demise. A man like Shingen doesn’t bother caring for his underlings, as they’re under him for one reason and one reason only: they’re weak, unable to reach his level.

Then why..?

“It.. It was okay.” You responded, mindlessly continuing with the task at hand. The room fell silent again, as per usual. It was a nerving stillness, one that has your heart racing. It was softer, less rough like his calloused, scarred skin, a result of all the treacheries he’s gone through. Shingen raises his brow as he studied his hands. You’d just realised — you had been staring at his hands for too long, and he had noticed.

“What is it?” Shingen spoke in a low tone as he inspected all the scars, callouses and rough texture of his hands, they were simply huge. One handshake could snap your wrist in two, not to mention the once soft knuckles that had hardened from the continuous strain from punching. The long, thick fingers which felt like rough sandpaper along his own skin, he had already gotten used to the sensation. So when your unfamiliarly soft hands run along his back, it successfully soothes him. Unlike his, your hands are slender and soft, with well-kept nails that are moisturised often to keep their ‘femininity’.

“Ah, it’s nothing.” You clear your throat, proceeding to grab the shower head. Even when you suddenly splashed water over his body, he never flinched, no matter the temperature. Most times you could never tell if the water was too hot, as he would just sit there in silence.

The next few days weren’t any better. When you were simply cleaning the house, he’ll take a seat near you, sipping at tea while minding his own business. When you moved rooms, he’d do the same, following along and silently observing. Occasionally he’d ask you questions, but that’s as far as conservations went. At first, you tried to ignore him, pretending his presence didn’t bother you and focusing on your work. But over time, the heavy silence between the two of you became more and more unbearable. Shingen’s eyes would follow your every move, his gaze felt heavy, as if he wanted something, yet he never spoke.

One afternoon, as you dusted the walls, you finally had enough. You turned around, forcing the words out of your throat in an attempt to find out what you really wanted to know.

“Is something the matter? These past couple days, you have been following me around.” Your hands become sweatier and you could barely maintain eye contact. Shingen withdrew the cup from his hand, resting it on the table before gazing right into your anxious eyes. He was surprised by your sudden outburst, yet he maintained his neutral exterior.

“Is it bothering you?” He simply spoke, waiting for your reply. Unsure of how to answer, you hesitated — one wrong word and he could snap you in half if he wanted to. But did it bother you? Perhaps at first, however it’s a feeling you can’t put your finger on. It was intrusive, but it left you curious. Why was he there? Is he hoping to see, or hear something?

“No…” You muttered, letting out a sigh you didn’t realise you had been holding. His eyes lingered in you for a moment longer than it should’ve, leaving you with a shiver running down your spine. Expression unreadable, as if he was weighing your answer. You shifted uneasily, wiping the sweat on your palms onto your clothes, trying to maintain your composure under the scrutiny of his deep gaze.

“I see.” He spoke, voice low like a well-tuned instrument. It was as if he learnt something from your hesitation. Unsure of what to think, you swallowed trying to understand his body language, yet it proved futile. You psychically can’t understand a man like him. What is even thinking right now? The air is thick, filled with words you wish you could say.

“Well, if you need anything..” your voice trailed off awkwardly, and he nodded as to acknowledge your attempt at conversation before turning his attention back to his cup of tea. You returned to your work, yet the question still gnawed at you. Everytime you moved, you could feel his unwavering gaze on the back of your neck.

“Why me?” The question slipped out of your mouth without thinking, and you started to silently panic. Turning back to face him, he simply looked down at his reflected expression from the ripples of the liquid. Now that it was in the open, it was too late to take it back. For a moment, Shingen didn’t answer. No matter how much you squinted to see a pinch of emotion, you couldn’t see past the barrier between the mask he wore and his raw emotions. Angry, sad, disdained — you couldn’t tell. It was like staring at a stone wall, unmovable and devoid of emotion. To your surprise, you notice his lips curve into a frown. Did you perhaps do something wrong?

After what felt like ages, he spared a few words. “You interest me.”

‘You interest me?’ Your breath caught in your throat. His words hung in the air between you, heavy with a meaning you can’t grasp. You tried to search his face for even a tiny hint, yet he remained unreadable, as always. Before anything else could be said, he stood and left with the room. The only thing you could do was watch him. He didn’t even look back, leaving you with the echo of his strange words replaying through your mind.

The following week, he personally invited you into his chambers. A cold shiver ran down your spine when he suddenly asked you to meet in his room that night. While you were cleaning the dishes, he quietly entered the room unbeknown to you. Suddenly speaking in a low tone, you flinched and raised your head to look at him. Those same, cold and dark eyes gazed down at you.

“Come to my room, tonight.” Simple, and sweet. Usually he’d keep a distance from his underlings, yet he was close enough that his arms brush yours. You dropped the sponge and took a moment to process the situation — his room? Tonight? What?

“Is there a reason?” You felt compelled to ask. What could he possibly be thinking? He’s unreadable, and you struggle to understand him.

“No.” Leaving no room for anymore questions, he turned around and left. Standing there, puzzled, you could once again only watch him walk away as you were forced to continue your task.

That night, the clock struck ten and you had just finished washing up. You got changed and put your old clothing into the laundry. It was bothering you, what was he doing to do? Did your parents do something outlandish again? The whole thought of it left you pacing around the hallways wondering if you should just say you forgot. But then you’d be going against his order, and who knows what your clan will shame you for now? Sighing, you took the chance and knocked at the door.

“Oyabun.” You called out, and he opened the door. He let you inside, and you took a seat on the bed where he sat beside you. The quiet of his chambers felt oppressive, the air thick with words unspoken. You shifted a little and fidgeted with your hands as your mind spun with questions. Were you over thinking? The silence stretched between you, his presence looming next to you, quiet and unyielding. You tried to shut these thoughts out, but you could only focus on how close he was sat, his body heat radiating against yours in the lamps dim light.

You cleared your throat. Hesitating, the question you’d been holding back forcing its way out. “… What did you mean by that?”

Shingen shifted his gaze from your fidgeting fingers to your jumbled expression that could barely maintain eye contact. “The other day, where you said..”

Did you say too much? You paused and instantly regretted saying anything.

For a moment that felt like ages, he didn’t say a word. You could feel his gaze on you, but he didn’t make a move to speak. Anxiety coiled in your chest, and just as you were about to apologise for saying anything in the first place…

“You think too much.” The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, and you pulled your head up to looked at him. For once, he showed an emotion you could make out — troubled. His brows creased with worry, lips pressed into a thin line before he spoke.

“I meant what I said,” he murmured, struggling to look you in the eye. “You..” Shingen paused, as if carefully choosing his choice of words. “…occupy my thoughts.”

What? It wasn’t as you expected ever coming out of his mouth. He’s a gruesome man who doesn’t hesitate to tear limbs apart, yet here he is, in front of you, weak and docile. Between the cracks of his yielding facades, a hint of emotion shone through. It was as if your hand moved by itself, curling his hair behind his ear.

“Why?” You whispered, trying to grasp onto any sort of reason. “I don’t understand you.”

“There’s no need.” Shingen replied, his voice low and soft. This time, his eyes gazed longingly into yours, filled with an unspoken desperation, like he was hoping for something he couldn’t put into words. In all honesty, you were speechless. Before entering this room, you had no expectations, wanting to leave as soon as possible. Now you want to stay here, in this moment, forever. Seeing his face so soft was a sight engraved in your mind, one that you wouldn’t get tired of seeing.

“Just.. stay. Stay with me.” He bit his lip, his expression tender, waiting for a response he desperately needed. These words were simple, yet they carried a weight that made your chest tighten. His words resonated deep inside of you, and you couldn’t explain his new feeling.

The silence returned, but it didn’t feel thick and heavy, nor suffocating. It felt as if something growing between you two, something fragile and real.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You spoke, voice barely above a whisper, as your hand lands on his. Stroking his thumb, you noticed a faint smile creep onto his lips as a wave of contentment washed over him. It was a side of him that you had never seen — no, nobody has even seen — and it made you feel so special. *I was the only one to see this monster oh-so vulnerable. You saw it — how his shoulders eased and body relaxed, leaning into yours. As if he’d been holding it in for so long, and only now, in this room that he bared his suffering alone, has he been able to express it.

He turned his hand over, lacing his with yours. The feeling of his weathered hands felt so warm against yours, and you embraced his imperfections for what they were. That simple gesture sent a warmth through your body that made your chest ache. His other hand lifted, hesitating for a moment before resting it against your cheek, thumb brushing softly across your skin.

Shamelessly, you almost couldn’t keep your eyes off of his lips. And he couldn’t either. An eagerness that rested in your heart hedged for you to kiss him. You shifted closer to him, taking the chance and pulling him closer while your lips met his, hesitant but eager. Shingen’s mouth was warm, a firm contrast from his cold exterior. Your eyelids flutter close as you let yourself melt into the tenderness of his embrace. Restless, your hands finding themself gripping the hem of his robe, unable to get enough of him. Straddling his lap, you felt his hands naturally settle upon your hips. You finally take this chance to take a breathe, and you look into his eyes — hungry.

For the first time in your life, you felt as if you were in control — his gazed lifted to you, not looking down. You cupped his face,, watching how his cheeks squish against his lips, before leaning in to kiss him again. This time, you didn’t dare part them.

It was a moment you never wanted to end.

Yamazaki lifted you by the hips, taking care to lay your body onto the bed before climbing in between your legs. Untying your robe, his hands eagerly explore each crevice of your body. From your breasts, to your hips, to your thighs — you were perfect. Shingen leaned towards your breasts, gently circling his finger around your areola. Your nipples ached to be touched, yet he only groped your tits, kissing at the sensitive regions of your neck.

His kisses travelled down your collarbone, chest and stomach, towards your dripping cunt. Shingen’s long hair draped along your thighs, his warm breath causing your pussy to tremble.

“Hurry.” Voice aching with anticipation, he complied; his tongue slurped up all your juices, taunting your clit with the feathery contact. Every glide of his tongue has you loosing control of your pesky mouth once more, moans carelessly spilling, making his own neglected cock throb. Moving the strands of hair from his forehead back, you can see the lust and hunger embedded in his eyes, as if he’s holding back from having his way with you. It’s so sexy, seeing those glaring eyes gazing right back at you. His fingers grip deep enough into your skin that it could bruise, pulling you in closer to ravenously lavish in the juices of your leaking cunt.

Shingen leaned in closer to circle your clit with his tongue. A pleasured gasp came from above, which encouraged him to keep going. What if someone heard? You tried your hardest to suppress your moans, covering your mouth. Why’d he stop? A hand grips onto your wrist, pulling them away from your panting mouth as he looks up into your eyes.

“Don’t hold back your moans. I want to hear them.” He slowly pushed a finger through, thrusting in a come hither motion. Those hands, they were fucking huge, and your cunt struggled to spread around them. The once rough, sandpaper like hands melted into your love juices, becoming soft and creamy. A smirk ran across his lips as he rubbed his own erection, watching your face contort into a slutty mess.

Oh, what’s that? He presses against your g-spot, and you shriek in pure bliss. Each thrust leaves you breathless, bolts of pleasure running through your spine. What’s worse is the view of your juices spilling all over the sheets, creating a pool under you. Shingen can’t help but love what he’s doing to you, enjoying every moment of your helpless self.

Oh gosh, you could feel yourself getting closer, while he leans in to circle his tongue around your nub. Shamelessly attacking your weakest spot, you grip onto his hair as you could feel the pool of pleasure inside your stomach hollowing, and your voice becoming louder. In three last plunges against your g-spot, a squeal escapes you as you squirt all over his abdomen. Vision hazy, you felt his fingers pulling out and him panting himself. Shingen lapped up the aftermath of your delighted orgasm, hungrily devouring every last drop.

Next thing you know, his cock is hugged between the wetness of your folds, lined up against your hole. How the fuck was that thing going to fit inside of you? No matter how wet your hole was, the tip could barely push its way in.

“Relax,” His hands rested on each side of your hips for support, while he tried to push it in slowly.

“It’ll fit.” He spoke as if he knew what you were thinking. Shingen groaned as in one final thrust of force, he abruptly dipped into your heat. You let out a surprised squeal, as you both pant. One hand finds its way to grip onto your thigh that nestled around his waist, while the other grips onto your hips. Only three inches has found its home in the depths of your pussy, yet you’re already panting for air. It’s only just begun. He doesn’t dare push any further, afraid that’ll hurt you.

“Give me more. I.. I can take it…” Your voice trembles, trailing off at the end.

Of course, he indulges; pushing his length on further, six inches in. Even further now, seven, eight.. just how big is he?! The girth of his cock makes your head spin as your cunt stretches to accommodate his girth. As he pulls out, you noticed the glistening of his cock dipped in the wetness of your pussy, yet the remaining few wasn’t. Giving slow thrusts, you could feel the motion of his cock hitting so deep, making your whole body shiver in pleasure.

“You feel so good..” He groans into the crook of your neck, hungrily kissing your neck to your lips. That spongy spot inside of you is being tortured by his fat tip, and your joke shudders every time he does. Shingen’s never been this loud — breathlessly loosing control of himself, his precum already leaking inside of you.

“Shingen,” You pulled him in closer with your legs, causing another inch or two to slip in. “Gi.. Give me all of it. I told you, I, I can take it..”

You whine as your eyes start to water, having your toes curling. An instant regret floods his body as he saw the tears running down your cheek, yet he was feeling way too good to acknowledge anything else. Reluctantly, the last few inches fill you up, and oh, you could see his cock bulging out on your stomach.

Shingen faintly smiled as he pushed down on that spot, his hips unapologetically moving faster. It was so sensitive — him pressing down on your womb only made you scream in ecstasy more. Your hole tightens and squeezes him, and you could feel every twitch and pulse his desperate dick let’s out. His strong hands grip onto your hips, squeezing them while thrusting as fast as he could — a bolt of cum building inside his balls.

“Shingen..!” Your voice wails in heavenly bliss, yet he’s too pussy-drunk to even listen to a word you’re saying. “Agh..! W-Wait, I…!”

The sinful sounds of his balls slapping against your cunt drowned out the noises of your moans, and a sheen sheet of seat drips down your bodies.

“I’m.. I’m cumming.. T-Take it all..” just a little bit more and..!

He’s filling you up, mumbling all sorts of profanities. As soon as he pulls out, a rush of juices land on his chest yet again. It made him satisfied to see your hole bubbling with his sperm, dripping onto the wet sheets. It was an achievement to see you trembling, gasping for air, gripping into the sheets for some resolve. He plants a kiss on your cheek, biting on your earlobe before whispering into your ear:

“One more time, please?” And you couldn’t refuse.

[lilaccmilk]

If you think I'm pretty, lay your hands on me.

(know you can't stop thinkin' 'bout it)

rich vampire bf! goes feral after you ask his opinion while lingerie shopping; contains: smut obv, vampire stuff(blood drinking, fangs), mention of aphrodisiac

You were out shopping. After shopping for the clothes and all, you decided to buy lingerie. Confused on which one buy, you decided to send pictures of you in both lingeries to your boyfriend who was at work; asking him for his opinion.

First mistake.

He texted you to buy them both. “But it’s expensive babe” you said to the man monster. He scoffed and asked you to buy them both using his card. “Fine then. I’ll be sure to show everything that I bought to you tonight!! Like a fashion show!” you exclaimed.

Second mistake.

Your boyfriend encouraged you to buy more but you shot down that idea. “Lemme continue shopping now, bye, love you” you hung up the phone.

Returning home, you took a bath and wore your boyfriend’s hoodie.

Third mistake.

He loved seeing you in his clothes, liking how they were oversized on you. You being covered in his scent was another thing that calmed the beast inside of him. You hear the opening of door and rushed to greet your boyfriend. He said nothing but just inhaled your scent, pulling you closer.

“Go freshen up!! Have to show you the dresses” you excitedly said, “Hm sure, start with the lingerie f’me yeah?” He spoke in a strained voice, as if holding himself back.

A while later, he was sitting on the bed, waiting patiently. You tried on the flimsy clothing—as if it could be called that. You laughed to yourself. You had sent a picture of you in a different coloured one, but as a surprise you got it in your boyfriend’s favourite colour — royal blue. You stepped out in front of him and looked at him expectantly. “How is it?” You give him a twirl.

Fourth and final mistake. All of these mistakes now tumble down from the edge upon you and you’ve got the consequence, in the form of your vampire lover.

You barely turn to face him again, before a snarl rips put of his throat and in an instant he’s picking you up and throwing you on the bed, with a sense of utter urgency.

“Fucking hell, been teasing me all day, sending pictures of you dolled up and pretty while I’m at work” he grunts out staring at you with eyes darkened by lust. For a moment he looks more like an incubus than a vampire. But when he leans to kiss your neck, marking you as his, his sharp fangs grazing your skin, clear all your doubts. He sinks them into your neck, drinking your blood. The aphrodisiac in his fangs enter your bloodstream, making your mind hazy and overcome with clouds of lust.

He gets out of his clothes, resuming the assault on his neck. You writhe in pleasure and —rip!

You gasp as the lace fabric tears open like paper in the hands of your boyfriend. “That was expensive” you say in shock. “I’ll buy you ten more.” He grits out, “Focus on me.”

He runs his finger through your clit, “Haven’t even done anything and you’re so wet f’me?” He muses and brings his cock in line with your cunt. He slowly slides himself in you, letting out a low hiss and the tightness and warmth.

Without waiting for you to adjust, he starts thrusting himself at a brutal pace. “What were you thinking princess? That you can rile me up and be left unmarked?—hah!” He pants out between thrusts.

“Didn’t -hngg-mean to rile you up-ah” you pant out pathetically. All your thoughts leaking out of you and onto his cock. “But you did my love” he growled. He loved you sure, but right now he was fucking you like he doesn’t.

He looks like he is in a trance, watching his cock piston in and out, in and out, in–

“You.” Thrust. “Are.” Thrust. “Mine.” He ‘s got you in a mating press, your knees all the way over to your chest. You feel flames of pleasure lick up your insides, trying to bring you over the edge. It doesn’t help that the words from your boyfriend make you feel lewd.

“This pussy was –hah– made to be mine. You were made to be mine.” One last thrust and pleasure washes over you in overwhelming waves. Thick ropes of cum fill your pussy. You pant heavily, feeling tired.

By the time you think that he is done with you, you look like you’ve been thrown to the wolves. But no— he is a vampire— a creature of the night. And the night has only just begun. You riled up the beast and now you have to deal with the consequences.

my ancestors must be feeling real proud of me rn 😌

[karlachismylife]

Thots on how they would react if you got sick?

(totally not self indulgent right now)

Oh no, my lovely spouse is sick :( Get well soon, lovie, and here are some little speedrun headcanons for you ahead of everything, as a treatment!! Beware, there are some NSFW parts under the cut :) So MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT I swear I get so upset every time I have to block some ageless blog. If it's so hard to put your age in the bio, just DO NOT TOUCH THE POST!! I'd rather keep you around to read my SFW pieces than block you altogether.

Okay sorry for yelling, here we go

CW: gn!sick!reader, reader is somewhat being stubborn about getting treatment at some points, sickness unspecified, but I wrote with something cold-adjacent in mind since we're in the cold season, a bit of controlling behavior from Ghost and Price.

Soap is Mister Indulgence. Any cravings you get, be it three kilograms of crisps for breakfast or his Mam's soup you suddenly want to taste at 2 am, he's getting his ass out of bed and runs to the store or puts on an apron to make the soup. You want some tea with sugar and lemon? How much teaspoons of sugar? What, you tried it and turned out you wanted a teaspoon less? No worries, he'll make it again. You wanna binge your favourite show? Listen to "your" song fifty times in a row? Cuddle and nap on his hot chest for eight hours? Whatever you want, bonnie, his Maw always said that good mood is the most important step in getting better, so Johnny would rather die than not keep you satisfied during sick time.

He might not be the most well-versed in medical stuff, but he definitely uses his Mam's knowledge (and she is one wise woman, I tell you) and whatever experience he has himself to get you both real treatment and some homemade remedies. Swears he doesn't get sick (ever, bonnie!) when you try to shoo him away worried he'll catch whatever you have.

Drops sick the very next day you finally are all good again (and behaves as if he's actually dying, even though he has like three times lighter symptoms than you cuz that man has an immune system of a beast).

Ghost is mean about it, cruel and ruthless. At least that's what you tell him when he wakes you up to make you drink some medicine or, even worse, change you out of your sweaty pjs, help you bathe and (this one is almost breakup-worthy betrayal) take you to a doctor. No amount of pleading, whining and pouting can deter him from making sure you're getting appropriate treatment.

Truth be told, he's probably blaming himself, because under his care you should've never gotten sick in the first place. This means he's probably checking your wardrobe and adding some warmer clothes and shoes (no more wearing old sneakers when it's already rain season!) to it, probably inspecting all the food you've eaten recently in case it was bad, proofing all the windows against drafts... and somehow he still finds time to be around you all the time, holding you in your fever-induced sleep, changing cold wet towels on your forehead and caring for you.

Might or might not catch the sickness from you, which reveals that he's an even worse patient than you, constantly grumpy, wrapped in three blankets and trying to put an indifferent face, but so, so pathetic when the fever gets actually high. He will be good if you promise to hold him in your lap and stroke his hair with cold fingers.

Gaz isn't as indulgent as Soap, but he gives you a lot of autonomy and trusts that you know best what treatment helps you. So if you say you don't feel like you need to call a doctor, he won't force you; he'll buy the medicine you tell him to buy, and if he thinks it's not the best choice, he'll just suggest an alternative, leaving the final decision up to you. Also has some homemade remedies ready to go if you're willing to try them, but leans heavily towards scientifically proven treatments.

He definitely tries to keep you if not active (no hikes or something, but maybe little walks around the apartment once the worst wave passes) then at least entertained, and not in "200 episodes of a dumb sitcom watched alone" way. Of course, if that's what you're feeling, get your sitcom fill, angel (he's not one to judge, he is keeping up with like a hundred series somehow), but if you're up to play some games, Kyle is more than happy to. Puzzles, card games, board games - maybe not so much computer games, since he wants you to be mindful of your eyes health, but a little bit? Sure. If you don't wanna play games, he still wants to keep you company so that you don't feel like you're missing out on life alone in your bed.

Probably the one who is the least likely to catch your sickness, because he ACTUALLY never gets sick, that pretty boy possesses some magic, I'm telling ya. Buf if he somehow does, he's the best patient who doesn't even need your help (but will accept it since he doesn't want you to feel guilty and it's just nice). For the three days that he's sick before he's healthier than ever.

Price is also very insistent on you getting proper treatment, but he doesn't go about it in Ghost's stern manner - no, he's a sly, smart dog, he's sweettalking you into thinking half of it is your own idea and he's just there to provide. If he needs to, he plays up his worried behavior and voila, you're already taking your medicine and days off from studies or work, simply because you don't want to worry your John's bleeding heart. Drops casually something like "good thing doc's office is on the way to the base, I can drop you off before finishing that bloody report they're wanting my head for and then pick you up, lovie" - and when you note that you actually don't feel like your sickness is doctor visit worthy, he sighs and tells you that he'll stay with you then. Of course now you have to agree, you can't let him get in trouble with the report simply because you didn't want to go to the doctor!

In all the other aspects he is absolutely doting and spoiling. Will casually look through fifteen stores until he finds the exact type of natural juice gummies you once mentioned your parents got you when you were sick. Absolutely no smoking around you or even in the apartment - and he also makes sure he doesn't smell too much of tobacco before coming into your room. Will baby you in whatever way you want (yes, he will read you your book aloud) or simply stay at your side to assist you with different things if you're not into that. But god forbid you try to get back to work or studying before John Price deems you recovered enough...

Probably catches the sickness, but pretends he didn't until it's too obvious to deny. Will do all the things he reprimanded you for: try to work, keep smoking, avoid doctor etc.

Hyena!141 bonus: they absolutely cuddle you in their hyena form and do not shift into humans when you need them to fetch something like a pillow or more paper tissues. They're your fluffy cuddle buddies that are there to grumble and purr for you soothingly, keep the chills away and lick your forehead, nape and wrists to cool the fever down. Shove their snouts in different places on your body to check the temperature (no thermometer needed!) and tickle you, give you paw massages if your muscles ache and suddenly get on their best behavior (yes, even Soap). Furry menaces who? Not them, they're the sweetest boys!

NSFW under the cut, once again, minors and ageless blogs DNI or I'll block you (and cry about it!)

CW: gn!reader, oral sex, fingering, brat tamer Ghost (so it's consensual in case I didn't make it clear enough), penetrative sex with Gaz (bottom!gn!reader).

Soap is also number one advocate of "sex is proper treatment", so if you're not feeling too bad and have some energy to spare, he'll gladly eat you out and unleash his oral fixation on you. As treatment, of course. Also maybe because you're so hot that you're practically burning his tongue and it feels as if he dipped his face into the sweetest, freshly-baked pie, when you squeeze his mug between your overheating thighs. He'll do more if that's what you want, but if all you want is to come on his face, he'll lick, suck and rub as much as you need - yes, he spilled in his sweatpants just from pleasuring you and grinding against the sheets, but can you really blame him for enjoying a warm meal a little too much? Will probably compare your "sick" taste to your "healthy" one. No, he does not know what the word "shame" means.

Ghost is reluctant to have sex when you're sick, because, well... you're sick, you shouldn't exhaust your body, because it needs all the strength to fight whatever it is you caught. But once you start getting better (and as a result much, much brattier, since now you have the energy to not just whine and pout, but also to be a little defiant shit), he is absolutely using his fingers to reward or punish you for complying or resisting the treatment. Are you being good, taking your medicine, measuring your body temperature and doing whatever else doctor told you to? Good, you deserve to cum on his fingers, lovie, just lean back and let him do all the work. What's that, you don't wanna drink your medicine, because it tastes bad, and you hid the thermometer? Well, love, he hopes you don't mind getting your temperature checked a little more old-fashioned way. And if you don't like your medicine, maybe having his fingers in your mouth, muffling all your protests, will change your mind. After all, that's what you wanted to achieve by being a brat, didn't you?

Gaz is already the king of gentle sex, but if you ask him to indulge you while you're sick, he'll be as tender as only molten marshmallow fluff can be. Caressing your feverish skin with his soft palms, making sure to avoid possibly hurting joints or muscles, going down on you with his sweet, honeyed mouth before even trying anything else. Can actually give you a perfect massage (even the normal kind) and add some lightweight petting and fingering to it. If you want to have penetrative sex though, he finds the best position (probably spooning, his arm cradling your head so it doesn't spin or hurt, and your body resting without any extreme stretches or strains) and takes you slowly and carefully. Doesn't let you worry about his orgasm at all, but if you feel like cockwarming him, he won't say no, that's for sure :) let him soak in some of that heat directly from you, angel, eh?

Price will probably need the most persuasion to engage with you sexually during your sick time, he is worrying about you too much, so the best you can get is probably his fingers and mouth closer to you already getting fully healthy again. He's just scared he'll go too rough on you regardless of how careful he's trying to be, lovie. But if he ends up catching you masturbating (and failing probably, since you're still too weak for such activities), he'll have no choice but to help you finish, careful tongue strokes and finger movements along with soft grumbling about him "leaving you just for five minutes, and you're already up to no good, love!" Don't let him fool you, he's the happiest man, because he both gets to pleasure his partner and because this means you're getting better.

[aishangotome]

Chevalier Michel: Even If You Die

From A Hidden Oath: King of the BEAST (2024 Election) - Collection Event

Thank you @dark-frosted-heart for providing the SE video!

—

All was dyed crimson in the evening–

???: ...Excuse me.

The setting sun mercilessly illuminated the figure that entered the room soundlessly.

It was the secret agent who was always assigned to guard Emma.

Lucien: Lady Emma has returned.

Chevalier: ...You may leave.

Lucien: Yes, sir.

The secret agent bowed and left the room.

Chevalier: .............

With a light sigh, he gathered the documents he had spread out on his desk and stood up.

-

Emma: Prince Chevalier...!

As soon as she entered the room, Emma opened her eyes wide, which she had been wiping with linen.

Emma was dressed in black - mourning clothes.

Emma: I'll make tea now.

Emma, with her tear-stained eyes, put on her usual smile.

(It's not a situation where you can force a smile.)

Chevalier: There's no need.

Emma: But... ah.

I grabbed Emma's arm and pulled her to sit on the sofa.

I sat next to her and embraced her shoulders, and Emma quietly leaned against me.

Emma: ...I apologize for my unsightly appearance.

Chevalier: Did someone say you looked unsightly?

Emma: No, no one...

Chevalier: Then there is no need to worry.

(Those tears are not the kind that should be forcibly stopped.)

Emma: ...Y-yes...

Her small shoulders trembled with a sniffle.

(It's been a while since I've seen Emma cry this much.)

(You cry like this even for the death of someone who isn't even your family.)

Today, Emma attended a funeral.

The deceased was an elderly man in town who Emma had known since she was a child.

When attending the funerals of nobles and knights as the next queen, Emma maintains a resolute demeanor, but it seems she cannot do so at the funerals of old acquaintances.

(In the past, I would have dismissed it as trivial...)

Suddenly, a memory from the past flashed through my mind.

*flashback*

Clavis: Chev, if you're heartbroken, shall I offer you a word of comfort?

Clavis: The death of your mother must have affected even you.

Chevalier: ...No?

Chevalier: I have knowledge of human emotions from books. I thought I might feel something...

Chevalier: I feel "nothing."

*flashback over*

(I still feel nothing about that woman's death.)

(But... if you were to die before me...)

( ............ )

An indescribable discomfort ran through my chest, and I pushed away any further thoughts.

Chevalier: ––Speak.

Emma: Huh...?

Chevalier: About the deceased.

Chevalier: He must have been someone you cared deeply about, to make you cry so much?

Emma looked at me with a slightly surprised expression, then awkwardly smiled and began to speak haltingly.

Emma: ...He was a lively old man who everyone in town knew.

Emma: He was baking sweets until just before he passed away, and took his last breath surrounded by his family.

Emma: He woke up at 4 a.m. every morning to bake sweets, and if you went early in the morning, he would always give you extra.

Emma: The other day, I went to buy some secretly, and he remembered me and said, "I'm glad..."

Instead of words, large tears fell from her reddened eyes.

Emma: I'm sorry...

Chevalier: There is no need to apologize.

Emma: But... even though Prince Chevalier is by my side, I'm showing you such a pathetic sight...

I lifted her chin as she tried to look down.

No matter how much she wiped them away, tears kept spilling from her wet eyes.

Chevalier: I do not think your current appearance is pathetic.

Emma: ...

I placed my hand on her cheek, and Emma placed her hand on top of mine.

The sight of Emma, her eyes closed as if feeling the warmth, seemed incredibly endearing.

Emma: Being pampered by Prince Chevalier makes me happy and cry even more.

Emma: But please, just for today, let me indulge in your kindness.

Emma: If I keep being sad, the old man in heaven will worry.

(Heaven, huh?)

(Prayers for the deceased are usually a waste of time. No matter how much you pray, that person is no longer in this world.)

(It would be far more rational to carry on the will of the deceased and move towards the future, rather than wasting time praying.)

(But... if it were you, I would also dwell on my thoughts.)

(It may be meaningless, but I don't think it's worthless.)

(Because you taught me that loving someone, like being loved, has meaning.)

Chevalier: Emma.

(Even if you die, I probably won't shed any tears.)

(But... I swear I will continue to love you for the rest of my life.)

Emma: Mmm...

I kissed her tear-stained lips.

As if to envelop her heart, shaken by loneliness, I continued to hold Emma until the curtain of night fell.

FIN

[elaichoi]

just the tip ! yeonjun

%PAIRING— yeonjun x fem!reader.

C0NTENT WARNING!— DUBCON, NONCON(??) pussy job, femdom in the beginning then yeonjun takes over, yeonjun kind of ignores her, reader is kinda mean, there's a single sentence that could imply to foot fetish but we dk, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, creampie, cum eating ( yeonjun.)

WORD COUNT—1.6k.

"just the tip baby," yeonjun's pleads with blazing desperation hanging onto each of the words as he begs for your warmth.

its silly, of course— to you. to have the boy of your dreams aching to be one with you, with his hard on pressing against the sole of your feet and his chin placed onto your palm so obediently. like a little puppy waiting for a command as he peppers sweet, wet kisses up to your wrist. the glimmering crystalline stars swimming into his waterline providing you with a kind of thrill you felt ashamed to bask in.

"only the tip?" you pressed hard on yeonjun's boner, eliciting a deliciously painful groan out of his open lips—swollen, and all pretty from being crushed against his teeth to relieve some of his anguish, "would you be satisfied with only the tip?"

you were taunting him; only seeking your own pleasure as he shivered against your cruel touch. a singular streak of starlight falling from his eyes as he closed his tightly to keep himself from breaking down.

you'd have to admit what a sight yeonjun had been, perhaps that's why you decided to take mercy on the man kneeling before you.

yeonjun's hands reached out to grab onto your ankle as soon as you removed them from his hard cock but one look from you had him retracing with a frown on his face. you, on the other hand didn't even try to conceal the smirk on your face as you spread your legs before him. the parting naturally pulling your skirt up to display your soaked, puffy pussy lips to him, sheathed by the drenched fabric of your cotton panties.

yeonjun's whines had withered away the moment you spread your legs before him. eyes zeroed on your core; it almost had a nonage glint. you weren't fooled though, you could tell that it was clouded with nothing but murky lust, not that you had any problem with that.

your hooked your fingers to one side of your panties and pulled it to the other side; strings of your lust that thinned out stretched out and broke as you pulled on the tiny piece of wet fabric away, showing your folds without any sort of barrier, "go on, satisfy yourself."

as though the fragrance of your juices were pulling him like an entranced man before an oasis, he came beseeching you—to taste you, like a thirsty traveler wanting to be quenched with your ambrosia, but you were quick to hold his head back before even the tip of tongue grazed your exposed cunt.

"uh uh," you tutted at him, cajoling his big eyes to look up at you, "only the tip. no licking."

"but," he cried out, his eyes fixated on your pulsating cunt, "just a lick."

you shook your head defiantly, and let go of the finger that revealed your pussy to him.

"its either the tip, or nothing," your spoke, unwavered, and with an defiance to tame the beast," your choice."

you know what he'd choose. it was too easy, he made it way too easy to guess with his pathetic whining, and the jingling of his belt as he dropped them to hover before you, with his hard dick in his hand.

resting on your forearms, you leaned backwards giving yeonjun the leverage to tug your panties off, and aligned his cock to your folds. the ambience gradually filling up with his heaving and breathing, and the lewd sound of his cock head sliding up and down into your slit, forcing you to moan every time his tip bumped against your clit, spreading an electrifying jolt to your core everytime.

"get the tip in or fuck off," you hissed out, only for yeonjun to grind harder against your core; using the weight of his cock to press against your swollen clit to shape you into his own little bitch. his teeth harshly tugging onto his cerise, supple lips as he focused solely on making you mewl; no matter how hard you pushed onto his hard abdomen to get him off you. his hands held their death grip on your waist, bruising them leisurely to his liking.

"you bastar-"

"please i'll just use the tip i promise," yeonjun feverishly affirmed, pressing the underside of his cock between your pussy lips, sliding up and down, "please let me just satisfy you first."

you groaned in pleasure as he continued to rut against you while he was engulfed into your heated softness. yeonjun took off one of his hands from your waist, using the thumb to put pressure on top of his dick. his action resulted in the new found pleasure as he increased his speed, allowing the tip of his cock to crush your clit against the sloppy weight, impelling you close to your own finish, despite mumbles, and moans of rejection.

you dug your nails into the arm that was still holding onto your flesh; you nails creating pernicious crescent moon shape on his skin, coaxing yeonjun to grunt before you; his face scrunching as the pleasures urged him even more, the sting going directly to his groin as he continuously humped into you pussy, driving you along with him to the edge of orgasm.

"you're so warm," yeonjun hisses, his strokes getting more sharp, taking their time to drag across each inch of your pussy, "and soft, i never want to fucking stop."

despite the need to reprimand him, to tell him to fuck himself for ignoring your commands like a disgusting little mutt who was too busy rutting against anything pillowy—you couldn't. you were spellbound with the hungry movement of his cock against your core, enticing both of you to come undone before the altar of carnal desire that had the two of you in a filthy hypnotized daze.

" 'm gonna do as you permitted now," you could hear the smirk in his voice as he aligned his tip to your wet, clenching hole, "i'm gonna enter the tip," he pushed himself inside you, penetrating you just enough so that his cock head was smug inside of you, "just the tip."

your eyes were rolled all the way back to your head as soon as he was inside you, the intrusion of his cock had you gasping for air; your chest heaving up and down as gravity pulled you towards the bed. your wet pussy was sucking him in just right, as he gently removed the tip, only to shove it back inside again—just enough, and no matter how much it killed you to admit, you were sure you were the one suffering the most in this scenario.

yeonjun's finger traced the slit where his dick was nestled in, stroking it around the space to torture your clit even more as his tip remained still inside of you.

"i want to shove it in you so, so bad," yeonjun slurred, his eyes fixated on his index finger that was hidden inside your folds. you wanted him to shove it in as well, but you'd never admit, " but i won't."

"i won't until you beg me too," he taunted, increasing the tempo. your hips starting to squirm under him, the whines in your throat getting louder as you reached your climax. your body thrashing around in unbridled pleasure while clamping down on yeonjun's enlarged cock head inside your pussy. your oblivious clenching driving yeonjun closer to his own finale.

"im not the one to beg," you breathed out. the image of yeonjun's own wrecked self becoming clear to you as slowly rode out your own high. yeonjun's fist grabbing onto the base of his cock, as he breathed heavily at you exposed pussy, and the way you sopping puffy lips was twitching without a hint of shame.

“fuck.’ yeonjun cussed under his breathe, fasting his cock faster, and faster, as if he was running out of time. his patience finally waning as he reached the last stage of his ordeal; with his tip still inside your gummy walls, and the feast of the pantheon before him. even the constraining deal you set against him pushed him further into the rabbit hole of lust.

the fragmented push of his cock inside of you starting to drive you insane. the sickening demand of your body to want him nestled deeper into your womb slowly started to sneak back into your hazy brain. the view of yeonjun's arched body in front of you, with just a bit of his cock inside of you, as he tried to pleasure himself desperately, was clenching against him unwillingly. you were hoping he wouldn't notice how he was affecting you even after you had come before him.

"stop clenching around my cock," yeonjun spat out, his pretty face now laced with moonbeam nectar, seducing his long locks to attack himself onto his lissome skin looking nothing short of a heavenly creature, albeit marred in earthly eroticism.

"then fucking cum quickly," perhaps that's what he needed, because the moment you uttered those crude words, yeonjun took out his cock and came onto your pussy. ropes of your white cum sprayed against your exposed cunt as they seeped inside your slit and dripped down your pussy making a mess.

yeonjun caught himself with the help of his hands before he could collide into you—in turn capturing you inside his arm, with his dick coming in slight contact with the nasty cum on your pussy. you bit your lips to keep yourself from moaning when his cock tapped on your folds, but you're pretty sure yeonjun could tell.

yeonjun pulled himself back abruptly, inserting two of his fingers into your fold, close to your hole, but instead of digging his finger in. he started to drag it upwards, collecting as much as he could before shoving it onto his tongue. swirling it around while keeping his mouth open, so you could see exactly what he was doing.

"im not just tasting you," he licked his fingers clean, "there's my cum as well."

©ITGIRLHUB 2023. FEEDBACKS ARE APPRECIATED!

[harleys1nhawaii]

SHADES OF COOL

pairing: dabi / touya todoroki x gn!reader

warnings: neglectful relationship, kissing, angst

word count: 2k+

a/n: shades of cool by lana del rey will always remind me of him and him only

dabi.

he was the king of his own kingdom. with a castle with empty halls and hundreds of untouched dark rooms. when you'd catch a glimpse of it from outside, you'd think how frightening and eerie it looked, being filled up with a distressing feeling.

dabi knew it, that's why he kept it out of sight; far, far away from the human eyes. he slowly got possessed with his appearance and the outlook he had gave to the outside world. people would take a step to side, kids would run to their mothers when they'd see him. they'd try to protect themselves by wrapping their arms around their bodies as if he was the big bad monster who once haunted their childhood nightmares every night.

escaping from the abuse and unwantedness, he had unwittingly fallen into the same garden once again. but in this one, there were no escape. fences that reached to the top of the sky, surrounding him. showing no glimpse of a gate to lead him to a different path of fate for him to experience other than the one that he was stucked in.

that was when he had realized that there were no other choice for him. that he had no escape and he would always be the outcast. that from then on, he only had himself for him and himself only.

after all that, it wasn't suprising for him to turn out this way. you could've only begotten a beast by giving it nothing but pure hate and hate only. if he didnt deserve the impact he had on others, then he was going to earn it. maybe then, he wouldn't have that feeling that would surround his insides and squeeze his heart into million pieces, reminding him how unlovable and frightening he was. maybe then, he could be something sturdy enough to make people know he wasnt just a cruel villain, but also someone who held power within his being.

and you on the other hand, were such a hopeless romantic. you really thought you could change him. you really thought that you could show him the "beauty" of life. how funny was that? you really thought you could make him notice that not everything was a menace. not everything was going to hurt him.

but you'd forgotten one thing; he was the menace. he was the one to hurt others, not the other way. he didn't resemble any part of what he once was before anymore and he'd never will be.

you couldn't have fixed him, couldn't have made him better. you couldn't have done nothing about his strange weather.

he was barely present. would leave randomly and sometimes it would take months for him to come back.

and you would wait.

god, you were so fucking stupid.

you dearly loved the sickest man to live on this earth. couldn't have you been generous to yourself for once?

waking up from your sleep with a banging noise coming from your front door. how many times were you going to live this same stupid scenario? and you fought with yourself every damn time, as if it changed anything. cussing yourself under your breath as you open the door and see your boyfriend all wet from the pouring rain with fresh new burns all over his face.

what in the hell was wrong with this? why was he this way while you were welcoming him with your warm arms every single damn time? why were you this stupid? couldn't you see it already? couldn't you see that he was unfixable? couldn't you realize that you could not break through his world no matter what you'd do?

couldn't you see that he was unbreakable?

how pathetic you were when you opened the door wider for him to get inside. how foolish you were when you treated his freshly opened staples and burned skin avoiding eye contact like your life was depended on it. how incorrigible you were when you didn't resist when he pulled you into a kiss.

he wrapped his rough arms und your body when he felt you just staying still and not kissing him back, just letting him. "i missed you so fucking bad doll. i'm sorry, fuck i'm sorry." he whispered to your lips when he broke the kiss, panting.

you fought with everything in yourself to not start to cry and scream, to not let him know how impossible it was to live like this. not like he would care. he would listen but he would never understand.

you wanted to believe the sweet lies he told you. you wanted to believe them too. you wanted to believe that he was sorry. even if he would do it again, atleast he would be sorry. that was maybe why you were this stupid, you never learnt your lesson. if you were the eve you would eat that apple for the second time if the chance would be given to you. you had never learnt how to let go of stuff that meant something to you, even though you meant nothing to them.

you were not enough. you could never be. you could've never been enough to replace his one and only true love, revenge. you were not capable. that was all his heart was full of. and that was why he was still alive. that was why he still came back to your house everytime when he was injured so that you could treat his injuries and could make him live a little bit longer. so that he could make it till he faced endeavor. so that he could save his lowlife for a little bit longer and make it end when he kill him.

you were the giver. you would give your love to him. treat him and be his company. and he loved his baby too, but you were just at the bottom of the triangle.

he started tendering soft kisses down your neck to your collarbone. it almost felt different. it almost felt like he was actually sorry. like he was apologizing to you by his sweet gestures.

your tongue ran over the edge of one of your incisors as you threw your head back, trying to stop the tears forming in your eye. these things you wanted to say to him that haven't let you get a one good sleep for once, but you were just going to let him live.

you were quiet. you've always been.

"no you're not."

you're hot, hot weather in the summer,

high, neglectful lover.

you're crumbling, sadly,

you're sadly, crumbling.

[grizzersmamma]

Eight Hands to Hold | Kraken!König x Horangi

Summary: In a world where monsters and magic run rampant, Kim Hong-Jin (nicknamed Horangi by his friends) receives a gift from a new business partner.

Notes: This is a non-military au, so neither of the boys are part of Kortac. I'm not allowing myself to start any more fics or AUs, so this will just be little snippets of the AU as we go.

Pairing: Kraken!König x Horangi

Warnings: Non-Military AU, Monster Cruelty, Unedited.

Series Masterlist: Here

CoD Masterlist: Here

Next

Kim can only stare at the small creature before him as it attempts to cram itself as far into the corner of the box as it physically can. The monster – and that’s a generous term for the little octopus considering how tiny and anxious it seems – has its head buried behind its tentacles, creating pathetic little whimpers.  

“Cute, right?” one of the men ask, sneering at the octopus, “he’s not so cute when he isn’t under control.” As if trying to prove his point, the man jabs a finger harshly at the writhing mass of tentacles, snickering when it squeaks and tries to curl up further.  

The man lifts his hand, showcasing the soft glow of red runes marked across his skin like a glowing tattoo. Kim has seen such marks before, used to bind a monster to serving a human with powerful magic, but he’s never seen a mark so complex for a single beast. Yet even with clear evidence of its power in the numerous charms needed to keep it contained, it’s difficult to see the quivering black blob as dangerous.  

He easily fakes a laugh to play in with the other men gathered for the meeting, adding a disgusted scoff for good measure. “Where did you find it? A monster with that kind of power must have been difficult to take down, no?” His heart clenches a little when he catches sight of the monster’s big, beautiful blue eyes blinking up at him. They’re wet and sad like a kicked puppy, and the tiny whimper the monster makes only sells the look further.  

The other man shrugs, waving away his question, “I dunno, I bought him from a couple of mages that said he’d been harassing fishing and military boats. He’s supposed to be some sort of kraken I think?”  

Now that’s interesting, no wonder such a complicated mark is needed to keep the monster under control. A kraken is a dangerous creature, said to have been touched with the strength of Cthulhu himself. Though it’s difficult to know for sure with how finicky magic tends to be and how secretive monsters are of their origins.  

“Impressive,” Kim hums, leaning back further into the chair behind him, “although I am a little confused as to why you chose to bring it to our meeting?” he raises an eyebrow, doing his best to pry his eyes from the monster and focus on the man before him. 

A business partner who could provide just the edge needed in such a competitive market. As much as he would enjoy telling the man exactly what he thought of mistreating another living creature, he bites his tongue, tamping down his disgust so it isn’t visible in his tone or expression.  

The deal has already been completed and the finer details agreed upon and set in writing, sealed with a signature from both parties. Yet still, he cannot risk ruining things by insulting the man, irritating as he may be.  

“Well, in anticipation of a successful deal, I thought it would be polite to show up with a gift!” the man’s grin is all teeth, showing off his perfectly white smile.  

Kim just blinks, completely at a loss for words for a solid few seconds, “you mean the monster is-” 

“A gift to solidify our partnership!” the man cuts him off, his booming voice causing the octopus to flinch away from it and Kim to grit his teeth.  

“A most gracious gift,” he acknowledges slowly, “but I’m afraid I know very little about magic, I wouldn’t be able to perform the ritual to transfer ownership.” 

Once again the man waves off his concerns, “don’t worry about it, Kim-“ he does his best to cringe at having his first name used, “-I’ve had several pet monsters in the past. Transferring ownership is easy, it’s binding them that’s supposed to be the hard part.” The man reaches out a hand, “just give us your arm, yeah?”  

Kim gets the feeling that this person isn’t often refused and, wanting this meeting to be over as soon as possible (if only to get these people out of his hair), decides to comply. It takes what little remains of his patience to not gag when he feels the man’s sweaty palms grasp his arm.  

Using a phone to find the words needed, the man proceeds to rattle off a whole long spiel in some dead language. He’s pretty sure that the pronunciation is being completely butchered, but can only watch in amazement as the crimson runes seem to gradually fade from the other man’s skin.  

Where the runes vanish from one place they immediately reappear on Kim’s arm. It’s a strange sensation, hot like a brand, yet somehow painless. No doubt he’ll be feeling the strange tingling sensation in his arm for a while yet.  

As soon as the short chant is complete the greasy man laughs, clapping his hands together like a delighted toddler. “Congratulations, your first monster!” 

Kim doesn’t particularly feel any different, even as the runes pulse and glow. He supposed he’ll just have to take the other man’s word for it.  

It takes a while to finally get the small group of men to leave – over an hour of painful chatter as Kim tries not to make it too obvious that he’s attempting to o push them out the door – and the moment the door closes he deflates. Hours of ironing out details with lawyers, each point more tedious than the last has left him weary. 

When he eventually musters up the strength to straighten back up again and turn back towards his desk, he spots the little octopus. It’s crawled out of the box it was hidden within and is now perched on the desk.  

One of its tentacles is poking at a pen sat precariously on the edge of the pen holder, creating almost inaudible chittering sounds as it inspects the object. Unfortunately, the action causes the pen to be displaced and it rolls off of the holder and onto the desk, landing with a loud thump.  

The octopus shrieks at the sound, moving at a frankly rather impressive speed as it dives back into the safety of the box. The whole container is vibrating with how badly the monster is shaking. 

Kim simply sighs. Now he has to figure out what the hell he’s supposed to do with a monster.  

[raph-fangirl]

SHILOH ROSETTE'S MASTERPOST

It would be so much to me if you took the time to donate even $1. I am broke living with my conservative parents and my only income is from random house sitting jobs. I don't have a steady income and want to do art for a living. Anything is appreciated <3 I have tiers for monthly supporters but you can also do a one-time donation.

MY STORIES

❖ That Which We Call Beast - A Victorian-era Beauty and the Beast retelling. Has been described by some of my readers as: "If Jane Austen wrote Beauty and the Beast". Ongoing. First installment in the That Which We Call Beast trilogy.

❖ A Tale of the Shapeshifters - My first ever complete novel. A Beauty and the Beast retelling set in early 1900s Ireland. Two shapeshifters do their best to hide their secret from one another, but that soon becomes the least of their worries as the past unfurls itself.

❖ Demon x Reader (unedited) - A sexy, fun, romantic story of a woman who never realized she wanted anything other than her plain, vanilla life with her husband in the suburbs---that is, until a perverted demon steals her away.

Chapters 1 - 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

❖ When Lilies Pierce Thorns - The second installment of the That Which We Call Beast trilogy. Has not been written yet.

❖ Melisande - Upcoming prequel/midquel to the That Which We Call Beast trilogy. Focuses on our dearly beloved evil queen herself and her villain origin story.

❖ Raphael - Upcoming sequel to the That Which We Call Beast trilogy. Focuses on our favorite wet pathetic man and his redemption arc.

❖ Tyler & Alaca - Childhood friends to lovers, with some werewolf and vampire shenanigans to make things interesting. Twilight and Castlevania lore but more original than fanfic.

❖ Forte-Piano - A Beauty and the Beast: The Enchanted Christmas prequel. Forte is determined to become the castle composer, but will this ambitious young pianist get in his way? BxB

❖ Shark x Mermaid story (title tba) - A young mermaid is desperately in love with a human, but has been betrothed to a mer-prince. In the midst of her predicament, she meets a were-shark who annoys her to no end and challenges her entire worldview, but that she can't stay away from.

❖ Donatello x OC TMNT fic (title tba) - Donnie has always loved April from the first moment he laid eyes on her. Even though April is now dating Casey Jones, and he and his brothers have become friends with a new outsider girl--Serafina--Donnie can't help but still harbor feelings for her. When he starts spending more time with Serafina, will he let his old feelings go or will he make a mess bigger than anyone could have ever imagined?

❖ In the Garden of the Witch - Completed short story. Hedy is so ready to be married to the love of her life, Bruno. Even if he is a beast, he has the soul of a man. But one day, something changes in him, and he leaves her. Will she be able to find him as she travels through the wilderness? Will Bruno recapture his humanity? Or will a conniving witch mess everything up for the two lovers?

❖ Dandelion - Completed short story in the middle of edits. Dandelion does not know what it means to have a family or to love another person. So what will happen one night when two people who say they knew her parents randomly show up asking for her help?

❖ He Who Dares Not Grasp the Thorn Should Never Crave the Rose - Beauty and the Beast one-shots and short stories for all versions. From the original myths, to Madame Villeneuve's novel, to Jean Cocteau's film, to Disney's movies, and beyond! Feel free to commission or request a piece.

❖ My Fair Ladyhood & Other Short Stories - Incomplete collection of short stories I've written and will continue to write.

Includes My Fair Ladyhood, an imitative memoir I wrote for a class: Southern Women's Literature. This is an extremely personal piece that explores my relationships throughout my life thus far, as well as my issues with body image and eating disorders.

And Nolan's Flood: Charlotte McPherson is the only girl—and one of the only people—in the town of Roadsdale who can read. This makes her particularly interesting to the local doctor and part-time Sunday school teacher, Mr. Nolan. Although they don't know each other well, the two make plans to marry. But how long will this courtship last in the face of tragedy?

COMMISSIONS

Tba

EDITING/REVIEWING SERVICES

Tba

[firebirds-roost]

🍓🍇🍉?

🍓: Show off your favorite wet cat (pathetic) dragon and share a fun fact about them!

I already shared Moloch in the last post, so I'll go with the second wettest cat in my lair:

Sorrel! The world's saddest little llama man.

Seen here in his base form, he's a cursed longneck who turns into a vicious beast of a dragon every full moon. He's spent his whole life wandering Sornieth, being chased out of every clan he tried to join, and only recently found a permanent home in Firebird's Roost. Apparently they're used to weird magic anomalies like himself.

🍇: Share the "villain" or main antagonist of your clan and talk about them! (Note: Doesn't need to be a cackling supervillain, it can also be an annoying trickster, etc!)

I will never miss a chance to talk about Fluffington.

He's the founder of the Roost, a charming little fuzzball adored by the whole clan, and quite possibly the most delightfully evil character I've ever created.

See, nobody in Cinderslag is really happy. The region's work culture is absolutely brutal, with dragons forced to toil in deadly environments for hardly any pay, and most of them are absolutely desperate for some sort of escape from it all. Fluffington is there to provide that escape! He preys on the weak and miserable dragons created by this cruel industrial complex, inviting them to live in his utopian clan far away from all their troubles, and they're so broken down by the system that they flock to his empty promises like sheep.

Unfortunately, I can't go into too much more detail without getting into spoilers... but let's just say he has an ulterior motive for luring all of these emotionally vulnerable dragons into one place and positioning himself as their benevolent savior.

He knows the truth about the factory - why it shut down, what Moloch saw there that was so terrible - and intends to take full advantage of its dark secrets for his own selfish gain. All he needs are a few more souls to fuel the fire with.

🍉: Share the dragon who would be most likely to get banned from a grocery store, and talk about why you picked them

I also got this question in the last post, so I'll talk about another one here:

Rattlespine is less of a dragon and more of a weird undead armor construct that someone found in a ruined temple. It was created to guard something that no longer exists and never lost the instinct, so it'd probably start patrolling the produce section and attacking anyone who got too close to the watermelons. Now there's a fun mental image. They added boss fights to grocery store.

[pupyr0arz]

beginnings of a bodyguard soap after the gunshot. Thinking about this soap as being a lot more unhinged in a violent way asides from his coping mechanisms. Toxic yaoi realness. Unedited and unscottifed, pre reader too.

I’m not really trying to portray it super realistically so that’s a disclaimer too. He’s just got Serious mentoil ishewes. Little nsfw

The call is a relief, straight from heaven. It’s six months after he ditched rehab, the itch under his skin only intensifying every soft, friendly smile the nurses gave him. The exercises they made him do did nothing to quell the familiar ache in his fingers, the need to feel a weapon at his hip, the aching lack of adrenaline piecing together an explosive with his goddamn team at his hip and an objective up ahead and just to the left.

Violently, he hates Makarov. He thought he couldn’t have hated the man more but Soap teaches himself of new lows he can sink to, when his wrath simmers and rots in the hot wet recesses of his shattered, ragged mind. There’s a new beast slithering under his skin, it’s been prodding at his head, his bones, tugging his mind into misty, red places. He woke up differently after the surgery, sharpened and dulled. A shattered blade, dangerously useless,some faulty weapon that’s as liable to hurt himself than to hurt others.

Ghost appears after he leaves rehab. 

He hadn’t heard a single word from the bastard, enigmatic as always. He had spent nights wishing, aching for the man as he’s dragged out to pathetically lean on a walker and do breathing exercises. His gloves fist in Johnny’s hair was soothing before, the way he tugged and twisted his excitability into fuzzy calm and beat obedience down into his bones like something he craved. Soap sat up at nights thinking about what Ghost could do with him now and he raved, bit and hissed at the utter lack of him in his life. He glared at shadows, tore up his pillows with his teeth and thought wildly about tracking him down, following old paths to find Price because where Price was Ghost followed and taking a gun to both of their heads.

Ghost turns up at his door like some stray animal, sauntering in like he owns it. Soap nearly attacks him before he’s tugged, harshly, off balance, still swimming and struggling to aim with his new lack of depth perception. Ghost reminds him sharply that he, by proxy, does own the place and he’s not at all happy about how slovenly Soap has been living, how he’s let the rot in his head spread. Ghost is worse than rehab, harsher, tough on Soap as he forces him to exercise. It’s exactly what he needs and he spits at him and thanks him like he’s at church. He vanishes again, after, coming and going as he pleases.

Soap only finds it more unbearable. Days are unending now, when he struggled to feed himself he at least had an adversary to claw at, even if it was himself. Now he has dull days of standing in his kitchen and staring at nothing, working basic labor jobs just to bleed the energy out of his body so he doesn’t smash every mirror in his house and set the block on fire. He wants to knock his house down, tear it apart, but he’s afraid they’ll just be another identical one standing behind it, matryoshka dolls.

Before the gunshot, sometimes he’d scout bars. Find uptight arseholes, snipe at them royally. Drag them into short grapples, arm wrestles, just get them kicked out laughing. 

He goes to a bar and he leaves the alleyway beside it with his knuckles aching, one misaligned. His hands are bloody and he taps the shoulder of some waif flowing out of the bar, who startles, staring at him with wide eyes like he’s some creature. He instructs her to call the police and vanishes, not a thought in his mind to pause and see if the bleeding lump he left behind is still breathing or not. 

Ghost shows up two nights later and chokes him, shoves his dick down Soap’s throat and fucks him with two fingers, unerringly hitting his prostate until he’s crying into his pillow. He’s gone when the sun rises and there’s a sketchbook in his place. He snaps all the pencils in the house in half, but after an hour he’s apologetically, shamefully, standing in a Walmart buying a pack of colored ones. Ghost doesn’t miss, doesn’t stay a second longer than he needs to brand himself into Soap’s life. Flashes of guidance, tugging of the leash. It soothes him and then rankles him in turns and Soap turns this around and around in his head and can’t quite understand it. He doesn’t understand a lot about himself lately.

The call comes six months after he ditches, after four visits from Ghost. It’s Price and he nearly drops the phone. 

Ghost ticks him off on his good days. He loved him, loves him, but even before Johnny had felt that inicessent drive to ruffle his feathers, to drag his attention onto him with sharp words and disobedience.

Price’s tone is calm, even, like he’s issuing a mission just like normal and Soap is rapt. He nods along to half of the call before he even remembers to listen to any of it. Price is telling him Ghost has been in touch, which doesn’t need to be said, talking about Soap’s recovery. He thinks about the sketchbook in his nightstand, pages of blood and gore and guns and sunrises and sheep and flowers, page of one, page of the next, like some kind of fucked up flip book. Sane, insane, sane, insane, violent, calm, violent, it’s a jeopardy wheel spinning inside his head.

[bonefall]

I'm glad you're keeping the part where Thunder puts himself between Clear Sky and Grey Wing, willingly showing that he would rather die before letting Clear Sky kill his dad.

That's actually a Bones Addition. You just think it's canon because it literally should have been there from the very beginning. Thunder doesn't get between them at any point during the battle, he runs towards them only to get interrupted by 2 people trying to kill him.

First was Falling Feather, who Jackdaw's Cry then jumps on and dies fighting with, sister killing brother.

Second was Leaf, who's a diehard Clear Sky supporter and general bully.

In canon, Clear Sky stops the battle after Gray Wing says the line, non-fucking-sensically imo. Killing his BROTHER is too far, but killing someone who wasn't even attacking him? A noncombatant who said something mildly insulting? That wasn't. Rainswept Flower did the SAME thing Gray Wing did and still got bumped off for it;

“Is this worth it?” he heard Clear Sky hiss at Rainswept Flower. Scrambling to her paws, she faced him. “What do you mean?” Clear Sky flattened his ears menacingly. “Are you ready to die just to stop me from making borders?” Rainswept Flower curled her lip. “You’ll keep stealing land as long as we let you.” “Stealing land?” Clear Sky’s mew trembled with rage, “I’m just making sure my cats never starve.” Rainswept Flower’s gaze flitted around the lush slopes of the hollow. “How could any cat starve here? There’s so much. Wanting more is just greedy!” “How dare you!” With a snarl, Clear Sky leaped for her, grabbing her throat between his jaws. Her paws flailed desperately, lashing out at thin air as he shook her like prey. Then she hung still. Clear Sky dropped her, gazing coldly at her lifeless body. “You never understood. I’m not greedy. I’m just strong.”

-The First Battle, Chapter 20

Then in Clear Sky's pathetic wet beast scene, he stares down at Rainswept's corpse, and thinks "I was so angry I don't remember killing her :("

So how, exactly, does this same character keep his cool when Gray Wing says the same shit but worse?? Is he really so controlled by emotion that his logical processes flip off, or fucking not? Gray Wing was refusing to submit, lunging at him, calling him power hungry and taunting him that he would kill his own littermate for it, and THAT manages to get through Clear Sky's blood-poisoned head?

"ouuugh it's his brotherr that's why his personality completely changes for him" the fucking guy tried to have this same brother murdered in Sun Trail by Fox. The first book. He EXILED HIS OTHER BROTHER for having a broken leg because he, "didn't want to look biased"

Again; is he controlled by his fear and anger or not? Is this a man who would snap the neck of someone he cares about because he feels insulted, or not?

The answer is that the Erins are breaking their spines bending over backwards to try and keep him "redeemable" when he shouldn't be. He's whatever the plot needs him to be, but the most consistent character traits point towards Clear Sky being the kind of person who would never have wanted to change his ways.

So, they write Clear Sky ridiculously backing down for Gray Wing, calling off the battle and "coming to his senses" instead of having Thunder do WHAT HE SHOULD HAVE DONE and jump to his REAL dad's defense.

This is what I mean when I mention how firmly I feel that Clear Sky's Redemption Arc was a mistake. He works best as a villain, a fearful, proud, controlling monster, understood by his impacts on other characters rather than as a person the story should concern itself with sympathy for.

[onebluebookworm]

Should You Fight Them? - Jane Austen Romantic Runner-Up Edition

Companion piece to this post. Because I still think I'm funny, even with this horribly outdated meme format.

John Willoughby: Even if you don't take into account the lying, the two-timing, the manipulation, the abandoning of a pregnant teenager, and the fact he's a whiny toddler man who could have solved most of his problems by not being a gold-digging shit, he still seems utterly insufferable to be around. Fuck this little bastard up.

George Wickham: It's honestly hard for me to choose who between him and Willoughby I hate more, but at least Wickham has the smarts to realize when he's fucked up with one Bennett sister and move on to the other. Still a stinky garbage boy who belongs in the toilet. I would say fight him, but let's be real here, Darcy would beat you to it.

William Collins: Yes, we all know he's insufferable and pompous and boorish, but I honestly can't bring myself to hate him all that much. I don't know, maybe it's the BBC miniseries clouding my judgement, but he also has this wet beast (derogatory) vibe about him that makes him kinda pathetic. Don't fight, but you could like...I dunno, maybe trip him?

Henry Crawford: Henry, I wanna root for you, pal. You're a lot like Willoughby, where if you just stop being a philandering little doofus and actual focus on being a good person, you would actually be really fun to be around and potentially even husband material. Don't fight, but definitely shame him over the fact he could be so much better than he is. You're not mad, just disappointed.

Philip Elton: I know he was never in Emma's league to begin with, but I can't not put him on here, simply because he's just the worst. An absolute feeb and a loser. He and Mr. Collins would be friends if either of them were capable of being likeable. Absolutely fight, and maybe take on his wife while you're at it.

Frank Churchill: My dude. My guy. My sweet little meow meow. Please just tell people things. At least let one person into your confidence about this whole "secret engagement with Jane" thing. Please, bro. You're decimating the vibes, bro. Look at your girl, Frank. She's got anxiety, Frank. Fight, if only to knock some sense into his idiot head.

John Thorpe: John wants to be a Willoughy or a Wickham so bad. Just so clever and cunning that he breaks a bunch of hearts before landing himself a wife that will give him all of the money. Unfortunately for him, he's just...not that smart. I'm not saying Willoughby or Wickham are necessarily smart, but they at least get their plans off the ground. John doesn't even get his foot in the door. He figures out Catherine doesn't have any money and panics. You could fight him, but I honestly think this poor dunce has suffered enough.

William Elliot: Remember how I said Frank ruined the vibe? William Elliot does that too, but on purpose. Just an absolutely rancid man. Fight him and show no mercy.

James Benwick: He's just a little guy. A little fella. A little creecher. He doesn't even have any proper dialogue throughout the whole book. You're gonna fight a little creecher who doesn't even say anything? A little birthday boy? You'd fight him?

[skyward-floored]

Alright here we go:

Time: Malon. Time seems to have found stability and healing in his life with Malon, and she’s the one person who knows EVERYTHING about him and believes him. Cia would make threats against her, probably even make a portal and pull Malon through to show she means it. Time isn’t sure if it’s an advanced illusion but it’s too real and he’s not taking chances. Later, when they’re free and back at the ranch, Malon has the injuries from before, proving it was real.

Sky: Cia would use his Zelda against him, but differently. I’m not exactly sure of details here, but she would mess with his head by making herself a wedge between Sky and his loyalty/devotion to Zelda.

Twilight: Two things: Midna and dog. For one, I think she would say and do things that Midna did that she KNOWS Twilight will recognize to mess with his head. She would also quite literally treat him like a dog, and constantly tell him that he’s more beast than man and will be treated accordingly, etc. to the point he wonders if she’s right.

Wild: Silence. If he says anything or makes any noise he is punished, and she threatens to hurt the other Links as well. She’s already hurting them anyway but he doesn’t know that. If she hurts him and he makes a noise, that’s cause for even more punishment.

Legend: Marin and Koholint, obviously. “Why cling to the memory of some pathetic wet dream when you have something REAL right here?”

Hyrule: Loneliness. Hyrule has always been alone. She is actually very sweet with him, basically love-bombing him and making him want more time with her. She visits him once, promises to visit him more, and deliberately never does. Later when they’re free he’s upset because he really liked her but everyone else hated her and he’s mad that he’s once again apparently the weird one who doesn’t understand things about people.

Four: His height. We know that he’s pretty comfortable with his height, but she’s able to put some doubt in there. “You should be grateful for my attention. You’ll never have another woman as beautiful as me be interested in you. Women don’t like short guys, no one else would consider you. And you know a princess can’t marry a blacksmith, no matter if he’s the hero. Be real—do you think the royal family, the nobles, the people, would be proud to have a ruler that was as tiny as you? It would look ridiculous.”

Wind: His age. You know, “are you a boy or a man?” “You don’t want to be treated like a child? Then prove you aren’t one.”

Warriors: The other Links. Cia keeps him with her at all times, and anytime he doesn’t do exactly as she wants or tries to escape, she threatens to harm the others as punishment. She follows through on this promise, which is where we get the above.

Oh man this is evil

I like how a lot of the things you chose it’s like, aspects of themselves they’ve accepted already, or are at least comfortable with, but Cia just rips in there and casts doubt on it all and aaaggghhghh ouch

[emperorsfoot]

What do you think about the idea that She-Ra 2018 and He-Man 2002 are happening around the same time? Cause of the whole Hordak going to Despondos in both shows.

Its about as plausible as She-Ra 2018 and the newer Core/CGI He-Man series taking place at the same time. I have no truly compelling feelings about it one way or the other.

Except, that it is a little frustrating trying to reconcile the inconsistencies between them. In SPOP, Hordak is a soft but unloved wet pathetic baby man with a frail body (I love him so much TT); while in 2002 he's this cruel and battle-hardened warlord, with a strong and healthy body. The Hordak of SPOP and the Hordak of Core/CGI are more alike than SPOP and 2002. Also, the way Hordak ends up in Despondos, in SPOP he's banished by Horde Prime, while in 2002 he's banished by D'Vann Grayskull. While in Core/CGI we don't know what Hordak's deal is so we can say its whatever we want.

This is by no means arguing that Core/CGI should be crossed over with SPOP more than 2002. As I said, the idea of SPOP being connected to either of them are equally as plausible.

The problem is corporate licensing.

Nate Stevenson (Noelle Stevenson at the time that he was showrunner) was not given permission to use Adam or any "He-Man characters" (except Tung Lashor), so he couldn't have She-Ra connect with He-Man.

This was limiting for him, but it was also kinda freeing because it allowed him to take SPOP in direction that he could not have gone if it was connected to He-Man. Making Adora a First One for example, and then making the First Ones a race of ancient colonizers that appropriated planets' magic and dumped their toxic waste in the middle of the ocean. That shit would not have gone over if SPOP were connected to He-Man meaning that Marlena and Randor would have been imperial colonizers responsible for turning Etheria into a weapon and leaving all that fucked up shit on Beast Island.

Those are also details that are difficult to reconcile in an SPOP|He-Man crossover, regardless of if its 2002 or Core/CGI.

[futurefarmersamerica]

important question. thoughts on evrart claire?? and/or feedist disco elysium thoughts in general 👀

i have SO MANY thoughts >:3

firstable EVRART!! i love him i do genuinely believe he has martainaise's best interests at heart he's just ruthless & slimy & willing to do whatever it takes to achieve his goals. and if it ends up also benefiting him personally in the process then hey that's a bonus! that post that's like "if evrart was thin/conventionally attractive he'd be everyone's problematic fav" is sooooo true. he's MY problematic fav at least! everyone who's seen me go insane over arvid knows one thing i can't resist is some terrible sleazy fat guy with dark hair and glasses LOL. trying to draw the evrartgirls out of hiding by posting derangement on main like the one the other day that was like "i'd rock his shit so crazy his lazy eye starts seeing straight" but have yet to see results. also the person who said "there would be fanart of harry sitting in his lap" SO CORRECT. like hello the sexual tension between him and harry is soooo palpable. two minutes into meeting this man evrart's like "ah yes, praise kink. i can exploit this" & starts calling harry his special boy and shit?? oughhhhh. i have yet to search ao3 for harry/evrart because i'm afraid to be let down & find nothing.

as far as other thoughts i have PLENTY about harry. prime candidate for characters who deserve some fucking peace & rest & healing & getting fat in the process. like how can anyone not see this sad wet beast of a man & think "ohhh i need to wrap him in a blanket and take care of him & cook him a nice meal"??? of course i was always gonna be insane for him after the gym teacher reveal like?? jean being like "yeah you really let yourself go since then" OK??? lmao. the franconigerian hardbody conversation with billie was when i had to finally admit i was horny for him like okkkkkk the denial of it all yesss~

i'm a strong believer in the "harry's chronic pain came before the addiction as the result of post viral issues and is part of why he started self medicating in the first place" & considering physical activity can exacerbate the problem my ideal little "let harry get better scenario" is: QUIT the rcm and fucking take it easy for once!! sprinting around for 6 hours a day probably isn't helping! clearly he's good with kids considering cuno & the speedfreaks & the teaching history so he should go back to teaching but not gym. i wanna see art cop harry turn art teacher harry. and of course he ends up with kim who can't help but spoil him a lil bit. imo harry should totally be with someone who's into body worship & both totally adores his body as is and adores it even more with all the changes that come along with healing. all his self loathing makes me SO fucking sad like "this body's worthless anyway no one ever does anything nice to it" fucking DEVASTATING line. so yeah I think it would fix him at least a little bit esp bcus it would totally play into his praise kink. like i don't even really ever imagine him & kim in an explicitly feedist relationship or anything but more a incidental wg as a result of healing thing & kim just loves it and harry gradually learns to hate himself less in the process. ALSO i have definitely thought plenty about the implications of electrochemistry expressing disappointment about the ice cream freezer being empty. like ok so the sex & drugs & pleasure skill is the one that concerns itself with food also. say less.

& then of course there's garte my little meow meow babygirl. really goes to show all i need is for a man to make me laugh & have cute chubby cheeks & i'll be like "i need to turn him into my submissive little puppy who i put on a leash & give so many treats". something about the way he's sooo sad and pathetic but also plays the big shot (like with the whole "bad ass" thing and "yeah i manage many many cafeterias" when it's just 3 and one is a kebab stand lol) just makes you wanna put him in his place. & the fact that harry is so easily able to get him to consider the stupid cock carousel bullshit makes me think ok you could probably also convince him to be your spoiled feedee even though he'd definitely be a brat about it. there's no real strong evidence towards this like with harry but garte totally has a praise kink too i can just tell & wanna use it against him soooo badly.