#hush lizard brain

[benetnvsch]

would it be cringe fail of me to make a kunikidazai among us au ?

[vellichor-of-the-solivagant]

Like Birds on a Broken Branch | 5

Monster! Task Force 141 X F!Reader

Previous Chapter / Masterlist / DISCORD SERVER

Context Warning: NSFW! Mentions of Dub-con/ Non-con, Oral Sex, Author's Poor Attempt in Smut & Dark Fic, Mentions of Slavery, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Fingerfucking, Biting, Overstimulation (kinda), Edging (kinda)

What the fuck.

Those three words were the first thought of train that shot up to your brain as he finished his statement, his tone and his gaze both reeking of confidence and certainty, which made something flip in your stomach.

You had always liked confident men who knew about what they wanted and had the power to back up their actions and words. But that only applied to men in fiction you have read in books. In real life? Especially after the fucking blood-sucking leech who couldn’t keep his goddamn hands to himself and just buy women he could keep fucking by his side and leave you the fuck alone, captured you and sold you, your trust and belief that one day you would meet someone who actually wouldn’t force themselves into their females had broken down like stars in the sky.

Well . . . there was Graves, the same fucking leech you wanted to kick on the balls, but he wasn’t the fucking focus right now.

You stared at Simon, lips parted in disbelief. You blinked your eyes rapidly in repeat, his words echoing in your mind like a broken record, but his low laugh shattered it.

“I see why Price told me he loves watching your expressions,” he said, untying his cloak and letting it fall on the floor.

You frowned at him, face slightly warming at the memories of Price between your thighs, his tongue working on your clit whereas his fingers curled inside your hole. As much as you hated it, the fire-breathing lizard knew how to pleasure a woman . . . and torment you.

But if this was going to keep up, if this was how the rest of your life would play out, wouldn’t it be better to get used to it soon? It wouldn’t be a long while now for them to run out of patience and tie you up on bed all day and night to take their turns to fuck you mindless.

You felt like laughing at the thought, but in your situation, the best course of action to keep them pleased and not hurt you as much was to take their offers—or rather, ask them what you could offer them.

“How would you like to do it?” you questioned in a hushed tone.

Simon blinked, confused by the sudden query, but quickly understood what you meant, and huffed. “No, how would you like to do it?”

For fuck’s sake, this man got a way with words more than the fucking siren did.

You remained lying on the bed as he got up and leaned down on you, the balaclava hoisted up to the bridge of his nose. At first, he seemed hesitant, you both were, but when you flattered your eyes closed, and he was the first to dive down onto a kiss.

It started soft, patient—not any sign of aggression nor cruel hunger in his lips. And as thanks, you reached up to his head as he splayed his now ungloved hand on your stomach. Then, it began to travel down south, slightly tugging on the hem of your dress.

He broke the kiss, slightly pulling himself away from you, and you opened your eyes, meeting a pair of deep brown eyes, but quickly left the contact. You watched his hand disappear under your dress, going under the band of your undergarment. Somewhat, you did not feel any sense of disturbance or disgust being this close to him. The roughness of his calloused hands, instead, made your skin crawl with anticipation.

“Use your words, love,” he muttered the command to your ear.

You took a deep breath. “Go on.”

You shuddered at his touch as you felt his warm digit brush against your wetness, trying to keep yourself relaxed as he circled the small bud of nerves. You let out a pretty little noise, tilting your head back each time his finger dipped into your entrance, and felt your core tighten up and drip onto his hand. You sunk your teeth into your lower lip when Simon found your sensitive nub, running his fingers on it up and down.

A hum escaped his lips. “Here?” He pressed on your clit, eliciting a whine from you, and moved his hand down, letting his thumb do the work while his fingers dove into your entrance.

You grabbed onto his arm, knowing what it did to Price before, only to confirm it going with Simon as well.

He inserted another finger, which your cunt easily welcomed in, and continued his dirty work. His calloused thumb swirled constant maddening circles over your clit, his fingers dragging in and out of your slick walls. He knew you were close, clenching around his digits and your breathing growing quicker. Then, he stopped at the brink.

“Simon,” you cried, cursing in your mind. “Please.”

He quickly resumed his actions, his fingers pushing deeper into you, and his palm smacking against your clit. In return, you chanted his name, and pleasure shot throughout your body. But he didn't stop, still moving his fingers as they grew drenched in a languid pace, till he pulled out.

Simon moved south, pushing the dress up to your abdomen and quickly getting ahold of your panties, pulling them off. You found yourself swallowing as he fixed his mask over his nose and looked up at you. “Keep your eyes on me.”

Bare hands traveled along the skin of your outer thighs, keeping them spread, and using his hands, he pulled your hips closer, bringing your core against his mouth. Like a continuance, his thumb rolled your sensitive bud as his tongue buried deep into your.

Your hand slammed against the mattress, clenching on the sheets at the sensation of his tongue lapping up your fluids, and the feeling began to grow too quickly the moment he threw one of your legs over his shoulder.

Simon clamped his lips over your clit, sucking hard as he watched your back arch onto the bed, and in comparison to the way you held yourself back before, a song of moans and whines left your lips, and never in his life he had heard something so captivating.

You came quicker this time, your hips rolling against his mouth, your flavors flooding his tongue, and reluctantly he pulled away. You watched him crawl over you, tearing your nightgown apart like paper, completely exposing yourself to the monster once more.

However, this time, you didn't mind. You had brought this to yourself and you were willing to take the risk.

His hand traveled along your chest, his rough fingers brushing over your delicate nipple while he bent down, taking the other with his mouth. Without any words said, his free hand went to the buttons of his shirt, and he straightened up, jerking his clothes off, showing off what had been underneath.

Scars dusted his body, trailing like the tails of shooting stars. With how they scattered on his fair skin, it would seem that they were almost connected to form constellations themselves, adorning his muscles.

It was hard not to stare.

But it was harder not to think that he was this beautiful this whole time underneath those blasted layers of his.

“You're staring,” he remarked, and tilted his head, in a way that made something flip in your stomach. “Like what you see?”

“Yes.” You splayed a hand on his abdomen. You brushed your finger along his skin, nails scraping the bumps and craters of the scars as you slowly pulled yourself up to sit. As you reached his shoulder, trailing over his nape, you leaned in and pressed a kiss on his chest. “Quite well.”

Simon found himself smiling. He placed a hand on your lower back and pulled you onto him, your face on his chest, yours against his stomach. In swift yet careful movements, he flipped you over. With his guidance, you maneuvered on his lap, your wet sex pressing against the tent on his pants, and your hands resting on his chest whereas he settled on your ass. Following the movements of his hands, you ground back and forth, shivering, quiet moans leaving your lips, and your breath hitched as he bucked up.

You watched a smirk play on his lips, which you frowned at, and Heavens forbid your impulsive thoughts—you reached between your thighs, unbuckling his belt, leaving it just as that, and popped his button open. You pulled him out from the confines of his pants and swallowed at the feeling of his cock in your hand, precum leaking from its tip. It stood proud for a moment, before falling on his abdomen.

“Go on, I did ask you how you would like to do it,” he reminded and slowly, you began stroking his length, eliciting a groan from him. “Fuckin’ hell.”

You gave a few good tugs, before adjusting from his lap and slid your core against his cock. You gasped out at the sensation, clenching your core over nothing, just as he grunted, squeezing your ass and guiding you once again to grind onto him.

Your eyes flattered close and you let your head tilt back, rolling your hips faster with each passing second. Your thighs began to tremble, brows knitted as you whined his name, to which he responded with murmurs of your name, till strings of his cum shot out, painting his stomach white.

You slowed down and leaned down to him, not minding the stickiness that spread on your abdomen as your skin met his in a searing touch. You rested your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat that seemed to be almost in the same rhythm as yours, whilst his hands traveled up to your waist.

“Come here,” he demanded. You tilted your head up and raised a brow in question. He smiled. “On my face.”

Your eyes widened. “You want me to—”

“Very much so,” he cut you off, swallowing hard, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “Just move how you would on my cock.”

You swallowed, and finally, after a few seconds, you gave him a nod. Rising from his chest, he picked you up and easily perched you above his face. Then, when he lied back down on the mattress, he lowered you to his mouth and began licking. You gripped the top of the headboard, throwing your head back with a trembling sigh, and just as he said, you ground on him as he devoured you once again.

Simon delved deep, tasting, teasing, and pushing you further and further until you writhed in his grip. He sucked on your clit, hard, bringing you close. Your knuckles had turned white, trying to come back down on the bed, when he let go of your sex to sink his teeth in your inner thigh. You sucked in a harsh breath, and fuck—turned on instead of pained. So close to your sensitive clit, the bite was wildly blissful, and finally, you came together with him.

He groaned, kissing the spot where he left his mark, while still moving you against his mouth and jerking himself off, albeit both slowing down.

When you came down next to him back on the bed, he immediately wrapped his arms around your naked flesh, pressing his lips on your hairline, and didn't seem to mind the sheet of sweat coating your skin.

“I . . .” You paused, catching your breath. “ I thought you were new to this.”

“I am.” He caressed your back, gently massaging your muscles. “But I've seen enough to know and learn.”

“Fucking hell.” You grumbled on his chest, to which he responded with a low chuckle.

“Let's get you cleaned up.”

You blinked away the sleepiness as you felt the warmth of the sun kissing your skin through the gap in the curtains. You shifted on the bed and groaned at the foreign weight over your waist.

“Morning.”

You jolted at the gravely deep voice that reverberated at your side and looked over to see Simon next to you.

He inched closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck, where his breath fanned your skin, his teeth grazing over a vein. “Surprised to see me beside you?”

“No,” you placed a hand on his arm over your waist. “Did you have a good sleep?”

“Best one yet.”

You found yourself staring at his eyes, reflecting the light like a pool of melted gold, and smiled. “I think I slept well.”

You flinched once again when the doors of your chamber slammed open, and the incubus, the freaking catalyst of the events of the night, sauntered in.

“I knew it!” Johnny yelled and joined you on the bed, taking your free side. “No wonder I couldnae tap into her head!”

Simon shook his head and pulled you closer to him. “Apologize first.”

“What, why?” Mactavish questioned, making you frown.

“Our wife couldn't sleep last night because of you.”

“Oh.” There was a short while of silence before he carefully took your hand. “I'm sorry, Bonnie.”

But you did not answer, annoyance filling your brain at the lack of sincereness in his voice. You pushed yourself further into the wraith's embrace.

“Bonnie? Love?”

You closed your eyes and heard Simon’s scoff.

You heaved out a sigh, staring at the white clouds blotting the blue sky. The wind brushed your skin, making your dress flatter against the grass that prickled your bare back and delivered the scent of the flowers surrounding you. You had never been in a garden before, barely even touched the grass or walked on a field without fearing for your life. But in this place, one you would and could call a cage, you found an unexpected warmth and comfort.

Well, except for the blasted incubus next to you, who hadn’t probably blinked for a few minutes now, eyes as blue as the sky never leaving your face. You still hadn’t answered him when he had been relentlessly apologizing to you, much to Simon’s amusement.

“Love, won’t ya talk to me?” he cooed, and you averted your gaze as he peered into your sight. “Please?”

“I’d be down on my knees if I were you,” the siren’s silvery voice made its way to your eyes, and from your peripheral, you noticed him walking toward you. He sat down next to you and extended a clenched fist to the wraith. “Good call stopping by her room, Ghost.”

“Consent is the key,” Simon remarked, making you roll your eyes, and adjust your head on his lap as he bumped his fist with the talking fish.

“Go to hell,” Johnny glowered at the both of them.

“I dunno ‘bout that,” Kyle leaned down on you and ran his fingers along your jaw. You leaned to his touch, watching his lips curve to a satisfied smile before you latched yours onto his. Quickly, he responded, tracing his tongue over your lips and you parted them, to let him in, but your attention was stolen by a thing hovering in the sky, slowly descending.

You pulled away from Kyle, squinting your eyes at the being, and raised your brow upon realization it was John. Ah, right, dragons can fly.

As he neared, the wind began to blow hard, and Kyle pulled you close to him, shielding you from the harsh breeze, which soon died down when the King touched down.

“Gained intel about the party,” Price fished out some papers from his pocket and handed them to his brothers, before dropping to his knees. He picked up your hand and brought your knuckles to his lips. “My Queen.”

“John,” you simply replied and looked over your shoulder, his words about the upcoming party catching your interest, only to watch Johnny frown upon the contents of the paper.

“That leech is coming?” questioned the incubus, raising a brow at the dragon.

“Graves?” you couldn’t help but wonder. As far as you knew, Graves was the only one who got called ‘Leech’ by his fellow monsters.

“A different kind,” Jonathan intervened. “That thing’s more like an octopus.”

Simon threw the paper away. “Fuckin’ tentacles.”

“Well, Graves is also coming,” Kyle answered on their behalves, making you turn your attention back to him. “But he is not who we are concerned about.”

You frowned. “Who, then?”

The siren sighed. “In the deep sea, there are two kingdoms that have always been in bad blood, and war could break out any minute with one wrong move. That’s my kingdom, the Sirens, and the Krakens.” He handed you the paper, letting you read what was written in it. “And their king, famously known as ‘Konig’ is going to attend the party, when he hadn’t been for as long as we didn’t.”

You found the name he mentioned on the paper. “What’s bad about that?”

“He was at your auction,” Johnny fessed and scoffed. “Why would he even go, he didn’t even buy a female this time.”

“Because of her,” Simon nodded at your way. “I have a feeling he got a word about her before we even laid our eyes on her. If Price wasn’t any faster, she would have been . . .” he trailed off.

You sighed and plopped back down on the grass. “What’s new about that? If he was the one with me now—”

“You would have been dead already,” Simon finished.

As though a bucket of cold water had been thrown at you, you froze in your place, his words repeating over and over again in your mind. You had heard of this Konig, before, from the news and Graves, and Simon’s statement wasn’t far off. The King of Krakens was infamous for killing every woman he was with for unknown reasons. As if that wasn’t enough, he was also known for murdering his own men.

He was the embodiment of monstrosity, the pinnacle of all mortals, the horror of every race.

To think that he was there in the crowd just as you were being sold, watching in the shadows, about to get his hands on you, before Price swept in, made your heart hammer against your ribs. And it only led your mind further down into the hole that maybe, you were lucky to be here, after all.

“One more thing,” John spoke, breaking into your reverie, fiddling with your fingers with his rough ones. “The females will have to perform something.”

“Perform?” You echoed in a meek voice, getting uncomfortable with how the conversation was going.

“Yes, it’s like a . . .” He smacked his lips. “Showcase, or to strike a deal, a trade. If a monster happens to like another female than the one he bought, he can trade with another monster. But if the monster is satisfied with the one he’s got, then nothing will—”

You sat up. “You’re not—” You gripped tight on his hand. “You’re not going to trade me, are you?” You gazed into his eyes, your vision slightly blurring at the welling tears, which you fought back by blinking. “I don’t know what kind of performance I can do, I’m not used to crowds, but I’m–I’m beginning to like it here—”

He cut you off, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that burned the air from your lungs.

Stalemate.

Someone will deserve an Oscar. Also, as stated, there will be "scenes" with Konig, and he will be an antagonist for better or worse, along with some other canon characters. If you don't like it, shoo--I mean, feel free to not read, because I don't intend to write him in the way that the readers will like him.

He may be good in my other fanfic, but here? If you are up to, uhm, real like for real real, dub-con/non-con things, then wait for Konig. I guess. But he won't be the end game.

Remember, This is a TF 141 fanfic!

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[astroboots]

Superhuman stamina

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: The dangers of dating a man with superhuman stamina is that it's going to leave you sore.

Content: Miguel is a demanding menace. Overstimulation. Multiple orgasm. Squirting.

Word Count: 1.4k

Astroboot’s Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist

The thing about dating a man that has been genetically imprinted with the DNA of a spider is that one of the side-effects of such an occurrence means he has superhuman stamina.

It's something Miguel had told you in the early days of your relationship, listing out this characteristic as just another facet of his personality, much in the way someone would say that they're a Virgo on their Tinder profile.

You hadn't thought much of it at the time, too distracted by the list of characteristics that preceded it: retractable talons? telescopic night vision? ORGANIC WEBBING?!

In retrospect, that was naïve. The talons don't really affect your day to day. They do come out when Miguel's emotional state is particularly elevated, which has lead to incidents. Like that time you had to replace your new purchased armchair, when you were on top and post-sex your new armchair looked like it had been mauled by an escaped zoo lion.

The telescopic night vision? Incredibly convenient at night when there's a blackout and you need to find your cell phone.

And the webbing... the less said about that the better, really.

But now that you've dated as long as you have, the superhuman stamina, you realize is by far the one that has the most profound consequences on your life.

At the time you hadn't realized that those enhanced attributes weren't limited to aerial battles against the latest villain of the week when he was fighting mutant lizards, or rhino men. It also haunts you in the privacy of your bedroom.

Because this is what happens when you date a man with superhuman stamina: You'll often oversleep and barely make it on time to work. On most days you've lost your voice. You'll be sore a lot.

And the thing about dating Miguel specifically is that the man is stubborn, relentless, demanding and that too extends into your bedroom.

"Fuck, Miguel, I can't."

"'Course you can, nena, look at how well you're taking me," he says as he stares down at the space between your legs where you and him join. Where you're spread snugly around him. Where his thick cock, slick with you both, disappears into your cunt then re-emerges.

It's wet. It's messy, the sheets beneath you soaked and sticky, from the last three (four?) rounds. As snug of a fit his thick cock is inside you, he's filled you so full there's no space left for you to fit what he's spilled inside you, over and over again. It keep leaking out with each press and demanding thrust as he buries his cock inside you as deep as he goes.

You shake your head even though you know it's useless. Pleading with him has never gotten you anywhere before. You don't know why you think it's going to make a difference now.

"Please, I-I can't-- nngh, too much," you plead. You whine. You sob.

"Shh, nena, it's okay," he hushes. Again with the cooing. Again with the sweet little nicknames, but he's not showing mercy, his hand moving down from your hip, down between your legs, until his thumb presses down on your clit.

Electricity crackles through the length of your spine. Your back arches, lifting off the bed, you don't know if you are chasing into his touch or running away from it: the first? latter? both? neither.

You can't form a coherent thought anymore. It's good and too much, and your brain is short-circuiting from it all.

"There you go, see? Doing so good. Look how pretty you are taking me."

Even in the dim light of your bedroom, you can see his expression clearly. Eyes a piercing crimson red, the corners of his canine teeth peeking out from his self-satisfied smile.

He bends down, nearly folding you in half as he presses his cock as deep as it goes, until he's nudging at that sweet and perfect spot that has your vision go white and blinding behind your eyes.

Sweet, sharp ache scrapes close to your bones at the sensation of him filling you again. The way he stretches you to your limits, until you've forgotten how to breathe, and may very well be the death of you.

It's there again. The oppressive warmth that swirls sweetly in your stomach as a warning. Tears prickle your eyes as everything in you squeezes tight at the sensation.

Oh shit, it's--

"Fuck that's it nena. That's it. Come on my cock again. Come on it and I'll fill you up."

It rises in you. A pressure that builds and builds and builds, and robs you of your breath until you have nothing left to give. It's overwhelming, the way the pleasure burns at every one of your nerve endings, until your face tingles with a numbness and you can no longer feel your legs.

"Mi-Miguel," you stutter, "I can't--"

"Yes you can."

The pressure is still there, expanding with an ominous volume, and no, he's wrong. You can't. Something is different. This isn't like before. You squirm underneath him, feet planted against the mattress for leverage.

"Settle down," he says, but you don't know how you're supposed to do that when your entire body has been wounded so tight you think the whole of you are going to snap.

You shake your head frantically, sobbing with a raw burn in your throat as you thrash underneath him, trying to escape the overwhelming sensation. Oh fuck-- it's too much.

Oh god, you can't-you can't-you can't--

You raise your palms against his firm chest, pressing back, in a half-formed attempt to make him ease up, but it only spurs him on. One arm loops behind your back, lifting you from the mattress to meet his hips as he snaps them into you. And oh fuck!

It hits something devastating inside. A pin prick of pleasure that strikes every nerve in your body. It hits a frequency that makes your teeth shatter, every cell in your skull vibrate. Your leg kicks out, body twisting and turning to get away from the overwhelming sensation.

"Callate," you hear his warm strained breath in your ear.

His free hand locks around your wrists, pinning them to the side, then he's lunging forward, his mouth pressed to your shoulders and you can feel the sharp warning of his fangs resting on your skin. "Calm down, or I'm gonna bite you."

You still, shivering as his hips pulls back, then he hits that devastating spot again and again.

Every muscle in you locks up tight until you can't move and for a moment you wonder if he really did bite down. But you can still feel his mouth on your throat, his tongue lapping gently at your sweat-soaked skin until the whole of your neck tingles.

He doesn't go easy on you, thrusting into you with the same demanding pace as before, and God. The sensation is heavy and ominous like nothing else you've felt before. Large and looming with nowhere else to go, and there's nothing you can do to prevent it, and you know that if this doesn't stop, if Miguel doesn't stop, then all of you are going to burst.

You open your mouth, trying to warn him, but all that comes out is the first syllable.

"Miii--" The rest dies in a wail, and you realize it's already too late. The pressure shatters and breaks.

You come with a rush of wetness that spills out of you. It soaks everything, your thighs and his, drenching his stomach and drips down against the sheets to join the mess that's already there.

Everything sounds distant like you're pulled under water. You can barely even register Miguel's voice in your ear. "Oh shit, are you-- fuck, that's --"

He sounds surprised. But he doesn't stop. Miguel fucks you through it. Your climax and his, with frantic thrusts, until finally he settles into a slow and gentler pace.

When you come back to yourself, he's kneeling above you, his large bodyframe looming over yours.

"Fuck, babe..."

He palms at his softening cock, glistening wet with your mess as he stares down at you with darkened eyes. Slowly jerking the length of it with a lazy pace that has you mesmerized. It twitches in his grip with interest, and you know it's not going to take long before he's ready to go again.

"One more time," Miguel says. "Let's see if we can make you do it again."

Jesus fucking Christ

Your head drops down to your pillow with exhaustion.

The thing about dating a man with superhuman stamina is that it may very well kill you.

Dedication & Credits: To my beloved @thirstworldproblemss who I hope is driving safely across the country through the mountains I love youuuuuuuuuuuuuu.

And to poor @guruan who I woke up with my other fic and robbed her of her beauty sleep.

I don’t have a tag list but please follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!

[bunnakit]

Since you were looking for asks I was wondering what you thought about Hush-Hush since I don't think I've seen you mention it yet since it came out? I'm usually skeptical of collabs but when it was announced I went back and watched a bunch of Be:first's stuff to see what kind of stuff they did and I hit Mainframe and Masterplan and, like, obviously they're commentary on Japanese salaryman culture on the face of them. But from a loretiny-lens I was like 'ohhhhhhhh these would fit seamlessly into the Z universe'. And then Hush-Hush itself came out and I was absolutely delighted by it. I was sitting there vibing along with the song, knowing that there were always supposed to be more members of the resistance than just the the Black Pirates and I was like 'ok, if Be:First wants to be part of the Japanese wing of the resistance in the Z universe, I am actually completely cool with this'. I also thought the connection to Wonderland with the Escher Stairs, and the (potential) tie in to whatever event fractured off the Halazia universe with the strong use of the eclipse distortions effecting gravity were super interesting. All the line references in the song to being undercover which could potentially tie into Work and its one mention of hiding from (android) guardians. I'd be really interested to hear what you thought about it.

hey anon sorry it took me a bit to get to this, my health has been in the shitter.

for my basic lizard brain thoughts on hush-hush:

i find your lore theories fascinating. i can absolutely see the direction and think it's such a fun idea to play with. personally, i don't tend to apply collabs to lore just because i don't want to take away from the other group's message or whatever theme they run with (this is my first exposure to BE:FIRST but i'll def be looking into them more.)

i'm also very much one of those people that doesn't think all of ATEEZ's MVs apply to lore - some may have nods to the lore but don't really progress the narrative (Youth, IT's you, Everything, MATZ) so i don't dwell on them too much story-wise. Hush-Hush is a bit like that for me, i think they did what Chung Ha did and applied some homages to ATEEZ lore as a little respectful nod but i don't know that it was anything so intentional as to tie into lore - but again, i really like your thoughts on it and think that's such a fun take on it and such a fun playground to play in!

i do think your mention of Wonderland is also very very interesting because i noticed a few things as well - i'm so sorry, i'm about to be so pretentious and annoying. i haven't commented on this a lot publicly because i feel like it's very much me being overly analytical and all of it could be a coincidence but i'm starting to think it's absolutely not.

(more thoughts below the read more, just trying to keep from clogging people's dashes too much lol - i'm also sorry if the photos don't load side by side, tumblr sure likes to fuck me on formatting sometimes)

Hush-Hush is very, very similar to Wonderland in the way that it uses shape language to back up the message conveyed by the lyrics and overall theme.

'the fuck is shape language?' okay so shapes in media actually hold symbolic meaning - there are different interpretations based on culture, themes, etc. but here are the themes and meanings i generally look out for.

you'll see a lot of use of squares/rectangles throughout both Wonderland and Hush-Hush ↴

squares/rectangles can be used to represent oppression, imprisonment, control, and similar ideas. you'll see it rather blatantly in Hush-Hush as they directly say 'too late to notice, you can't capture us' while framed in a square train cart and going so far as Sota making a square gesture with his fingers. an overt message conveyed in Wonderland is Wooyoung quite literally chained and confined on a square pedestal.

another shape that links the MVs is the use of triangles ↴

in a stark contrast to squares, triangles can represent rebellion, dissent, strength (tho this is shared with several other shapes,) and truth (which will tie into the final shape i'll address.) it's pretty obvious how this ties in with almost everything both BE:FIRST and ATEEZ represent and in my personal opinion it is very fun to keep an eye out for triangles throughout ATEEZ's media.

the final shape i've noticed a lot of is circles ↴

circles can be used to symbolize unity, truth, wholeness, harmony, enlightenment. this is obviously apparent in Wonderland where the lyrics repeatedly reference finding the truth, the door to the truth, etc.

all these shapes used in conjunction with each other create a blueprint narrative of ATEEZ's lore - overcoming oppression and control through rebellion and strength of self in the pursuit of truth and harmony. i imagine you can apply the same theory to many of BE:FIRST's videos (it'll be very fun for me to look through later and see if this is true) but Hush-Hush definitely has very obvious nods to this message.

this symbol is also shown in the beginning of the MV and i'm not entirely sure what it's supposed to be, if it's something related to BE:FIRST, a map of this metaphysical city, or something else entirely, but you'll see it incorporates all of these shapes as well.

if we want to touch on the hexagon in the center hexagons can be used to convey coherence, cooperation, connection, and balance.

the message of cooperation and connection is very interesting when applied to Hush-Hush as there are a few gestures throughout the MV that nod to a connection and cooperation between BE:FIRST and ATEEZ (which lends even more credit to your own theory anon!)

you'll see in this screenshot BE:FIRST holds their hands out, palms down, towards ATEEZ while the ATEEZ boys hold their hands palms up, as if to meet BE:FIRST's in unity.

here you can see Ryuhei??? and Mingi nearly forming a direct connection through touch (and perhaps a very loose 'Creation of Adam' reference if we want to squint and tilt our head 90 degrees?)

there are also continual references to escape and freedom which is backed with the visuals of several modes of transportation; cars, planes, the train, etc. this combined with the lyric 'we're living in a metafiction' (artificiality, parody, imitation) really solidifies the desire for escape and freedom from whatever force is oppressing them and keeping them in this warped reality.

and then we have the Escher stairs you mentioned being a theme between the two ↴

the sharp angles can also be a reference to shapes, especially in the case of Wonderland, but to me the stairs have always represented the uphill battle in front of them. sometimes following the truth, pursuing your goals, and holding to your own personal morals can be a struggle that seems insurmountable.

there's no one definitive meaning to Escher's 'Relativity" but many sources mention an altered or warped perspective, a loss of gravity (as you mentioned,) and an infinite labyrinth. regardless of the meaning, i do think they're also a great visual used in conjunction with the idea of a metafiction or warped reality.

if you wanted you could maybe also attribute ATEEZ's break through the glass as an escape from this reality or a separate reality that kept them isolated from BE:FIRST.

idk these are all just my own reads and interpretation of things, i truly think all takes are valid and i think that's the beauty of ATEEZ and videos like this. we all have different ideas and theories but at the end of the day they almost always lead us to the same conclusion, the journey there just looks a little different.

if you read this far i'm kissing your head. please anyone ALWAYS feel free to ask my thoughts on MVs, even old ones. i'm always looking to babble about lore and symbolism and shit.

[acutiewithagun]

Taglist: @oleander-nin @itsyagurlchip @radicallxser

Word count: 1,247

Trigger warnings: mention of police, sirens, and crime scenes. mentions of blood, death and injuries.

Mic Testing - Chapter Six - Warnings Come In Purple

The faint sound of sirens stirred your bout of sleep. Melvet nuzzles against your cheek as you sit up. You gave the small yokai a pat as you got out of bed and yawned. Slumber pulling at your tired brain. The quiet skitter of your spider followed you as you rubbed sleep from your eyes. It wasn't uncommon to hear sirens in this crime filled city, however it never stayed this close to your apartment.

You spot your roommate also out to see what the commotion was at three in the morning. The two of you briefly waved as you both walked out of your apartment and headed to the sidewalk.

Once outside you spot police cars, officers, and a police tape placed over an alleyway. It was right next to the building where you had your meeting the day prior. Curiously your roommate pulled you closer so you could investigate.

They always had an odd fascination with crime and mysteries. So you were used to being dragged into wacky situations. However not at three in the freaking morning. So you weren't too thrilled to be brought into a nearby alleyway to spy. They shushed you as they peered into the crime scene.

The officers were talking in hushed tones that made it difficult to eavesdrop. Suddenly you heard the name of your interviewer, Mike. Your roommate went stiff and pulled violently on your shirt. You gaze over to what they were pointing at and also froze in place.

Inside the alleyway lay a tarp, underneath peeked out blood stains. Your tired brain quickly woke up and started piecing a horror story together. Before you knew it you gagged and quickly covered your mouth as your roommate quickly pulled you towards the apartment building. Thoughts swirled in your mind. Is he ok? Did he die? Was it a mugging gone wrong? What happened!?

The only thing that pulled you away from your worries was your roommate gently shoving you onto your bed and Melvet snuggling against you. You snapped back to reality and waved to your roommate as they left. You softly stroked the small critter as it churred to comfort you.

Before long you had eventually fallen asleep somehow, only night terrors plagued your dreams. All about the possibilities of what could have happened to the man you had met a mere few hours ago. You were shaken awake quickly by your roommate who dragged you into the living room where the local news was playing.

Which was odd as neither of you watched the news much. However watching for a bit made you realize why your roommate had done what they did. On the screen was a story about what happened to Mike. Apparently he was brutally maimed early that morning. He was lucky to survive with amnesia and was absolutely disabled for the rest of his life.

Your hand somehow made it over your mouth as you stared at the disgusting photos of his injuries. He was very pushy, but he definitely didn't deserve that.

You flinched in surprise to see them interviewing Sabrina about what may have happened. The lizard yokai tearfully choked up her story. "Last I saw Mike he was waving to us at Random Radio Studio as he left to go home for the night. He isn't a bad person and never would have warranted his injuries. I'm so disappointed that I won't be able to work with him anymore." She wiped away tears as she was walked away from the news reporter by another lizard yokai. A smug smile graced her lips for a quick moment before she left the screen.

You shuddered and gazed over at your roommate who didn't seem to notice. You shifted in your seat as they interviewed a police officer that claimed they hadn't caught the culprit yet and to be wary. Then the story ended moving onto things like the weather.

That was your queue to leave, but as you stood there was a knock on the door. Seeing as you were already standing you walked over and opened the door. Nobody was on the other side and you were about to close the door when a flash of purple at your feet caught your attention. You looked down and it was a wrapped present. The wrapping paper was purple and a neat bow of your favorite color topped it off.

You carefully picked it up and noticed a tag with your name on it. There was no other name to identify where it came from. You gazed around to see if the person was hiding before hesitantly walking back into the apartment, closing the door.

"Who was it?" Your roommate's voice chimes from the kitchen and you turn to look at them. "No one? Just this box addressed to me." They frowned and ushered you to their side. You obliged as they were making eggs on the stove. They handed you their spatula and took the box to inspect it. That gave you a distraction as you worked on the eggs.

Your roommate turned the box in every which way before shaking it violently. You flinched at the suddenness of their actions before they pried into the present away from you. They opened the box and let out a disappointed hum.

"What is it?" You turned off the stove top and placed the eggs on a plate. They traded the opened box for their plate with a polite thank you. "Check for yourself. I was really hoping it was a bomb with time." They walked away as you shook your head with a fond smile. Your roommate plopped onto the couch as you headed for your room.

Once inside you shut the door and sat on your bed with the box in your lap. Melvet crawled onto your shoulder and looked into the box, chirping curiously. You scratched the tiny spider, earning sweet purrs, before pulling the item out of the box. It was a small stuffed bunny. It was the same vibrant purple color as the wrapping paper had been. You shifted it around in your hands as you inspected it.

The stuffed toy seems relatively harmless so you placed it on your desk as Melvet hissed at it. "What's wrong, Melvet? Don't like bunnies?" You nuzzled with the small yokai as it pulled away. It jumped on your desk and started biting at the plush animal. You quickly pulled Melvet away from the stuffed bunny and placed the bunny in your dresser. Then you put Melvet on your bed. "Come on, it's just a stuffed animal. It can't hurt you or me."

Melvet still seemed hostile towards the strange gift. You will admit it did seem odd to receive a gift like that. However you figured it was just from Mr Kendly and his wife. They typically would give these types of gifts at random because of how sweet they were. You had an entire shelf full of stuffed animals and toy vehicles just from them. But you figured you'd keep the doll in the dresser until your spider calmed down.

Maybe it was the smell of the foreign toy that made your adorable little pet to freak out. You pushed it off and left the room with said arthropod to hang out with your roommate for a bit. Just to calm your nerves from that hectic morning.

It's just a stuffed purple bunny, what's the worst that could happen?

[actuallytybee]

Sometimes my autism does something I like to call "peasant food time" where I only want like bread, cheese, raw veggies and fruits. Sometimes a bit of grape juice in a wine cup.

Logically yeah I know peasants wouldn't have had access to most of those foods but I have a lizard in my brain so hush

[kalmiaphlox]

If You Give a Vampire a Polymorph Scroll Pt 1

AO3 Link / Masterlist

If you give a vampire a polymorph scroll, he's going to sow a little chaos. When he creates that chaos, he'll probably want someone by his side. When he has that someone, they are going to be very, very naughty.

Alternatively: Astarion turns Kalmia into a little lizard. They commit crimes and have fun because Astarion likes some chaos, and Kalmia will never deny him.

Main Tags: Tiny Dragon, Astarion wants some chaos, petty theft, ruining a festival, fluff

How quaint.

It's just them, all alone in this big house for a few days. No one to disturb, no one to interrupt. That means it's playtime.

His darling lizard is cleaning away, righting whatever mess she made for dinner, leaving it just as-it-was so not even Gale can complain upon their return. 

Oh, how he loves her. 

And how she loves him. 

They need some spice tonight though. Astarion has been plotting this for ages, ever since that first time. 

Kalmia will forgive him, she always does.

With her back to him as she scrubs at the counter tops, he unfurls the scroll in his hand, reading off the words there. Hopefully she doesn't resist the magic too much, he won't be able to escape the punishment for a failed attempt. “Mutatio Forma! ” 

In a burst of purple magic, where once stood a very charming woman, now lies a tiny bronze dragon. The rag she had been holding flops down on her body and she wiggles out in confusion as she takes in her changed appearance with a shriek. “You- Astarion! What do you think you're doing?!”

He sits on a stool with a malicious grin, pulling his legs up to protect them - not that she can hurt him like this. “I just wanted a little fun tonight, is that too much to ask?”

“Henich! Change me back!” She hisses and spits a small stream of celestial fire into the air. Awe, his little wyrm is throwing a tantrum. 

“I shall do no such thing, lizard. Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for this chance? Ah, ah! Watch the cabinets, you know Gale will notice any scuffs.”

The lizard is trying to reach him but the stool's legs aren't conducive to climbing, she just scrabbles fruitlessly at the wood.

Maybe he feels a little bad, Astarion won't torment his darling for too long when she can't fly. Of course, the second he picks her up around the midsection, the shrinking sickness kicks in and Kalmia is biting onto his wrist and arms like her life depends on it, but no harm comes to him. Funny as the scene is, he can't have her be mindless all night. 

Pulling a leather satchel from his pocket, he produces a small, round treat, “Your mother gave me these, she said it would help. Eat up.” And she does, barely even chewing as the treat goes down the gullet. Ravenous little freak.

Her emerald eyes blink up at him, some semblance of her lizard brain returning to normal. “You both are evil.”

“Yes, yes. You will have all night to remind me of said evilness. Now, shall we have some fun or would you rather pout?”

“Is it fun or trouble that we are having tonight?” 

He gives her a peck atop her snout. “Both, I hope. Let me change.” And with that, he deposits her on the countertop. Gale isn't here to shoo her away this time so she can have all the bread her lizard instincts command her to consume.

His clothes are already laid out in anticipation of this plan going well. And surprise, surprise, when Astarion returns back upstairs, Kalmia is gobbling up fruit left out in a bowl. He plucks her from her feast - is she already heavier? Gods below! - and places her around his shoulders where she cries for her lost meal. “Oh hush, I'll buy you more food at the market.”

“Why can't I enjoy it as myself , hmm? Think of how much nicer this could all be if we held hands , or I clung to your arm, or-”

Tempting… “Those can come later, little wyrm. Now be a good beastie for me and don't stray too far, I want to wander the festival stalls with a lizard on my shoulder.” 

She nibbles on his ear and this time he can actually feel the edges of her razor sharp teeth. Interesting. “Oh, so I don't even get to enjoy the festival? I'm stuck being a beast, like some- like shoulder-candy!”

“Hah! How right you are, darling. Off we go.” The portal sends them to Gale's tower in the Dock Ward, and their destination is the Sea Ward. The walk would be long on these crowded streets, but he spider-climbs up a roof, and hops to the next as Kalmia clings to his shoulder, grumbling constantly. 

She might not have said it in words, but clearly he's already been forgiven. The stubborn old wretch isn't one to go along with things lightly, but he doesn't doubt that she isn't already cooking up some just desserts . He'll enjoy what he can for the night until his retribution comes.

Finding an empty enough alley, they descend onto the streets, blending in with the rest of the crowd. Ahh, he should have left earlier to drop some orders off to Solixes’ and Leucian's stores, but his excitement at his little prank was too much, next time then.

Some magic festival is set up in one of the wealthiest neighborhoods in Waterdeep. These travelers know where to find the coin, but he's surprised that they could open here to begin with. Maybe this group caters to a higher clientele in general. 

Lucky for Astarion, he's filthy rich no thanks to the teeny dragon perched upon his shoulder. Not that he will ever spend a pearl of what she gives him. They belong to him now. 

“So, my love, we have a goal in mind tonight. Would you like to assist, be the proverbial devil on my shoulder?”

Kalmia rubs her warm, scaly neck against his cheek. “Oh, yes please.”

“There is a vendor here with the most luxurious fabrics I have ever laid eyes on, but darling, I don't want to pay the extravagant prices they've marked them up with. Even if they come straight from Myratma.” The pleading lilt in his voice is useless, she would help him even if he asked to slaughter every person on this street.

“And you need a distraction to steal it all?”

“I do! What do you say?”

There's a vicious glint in her glittering eyes. “There's a cart holding pseudodragons and faerie dragons that way,” She points with her snout. “Take me there and I'll create a very grand distraction.”

“Gods, I'm falling in love all over again.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Before we begin though, the food you promised me - and it must be bought.” 

Astarion groans in distaste but relents. “Fine!” He'll steal back what he can when their simple plan plays out. 

Drifting from meat to dessert stalls, he buys up everything his lizard points out. It's a damned fortune when her eyes are a thousand times bigger than her stomach. His mistake was offering in the first place, but he needs to keep the lizard brain engaged. 

A giant's feast now shoved away into his bags of holding and his wyrm devouring a meat skewer, he meanders his way to the cart selling the caged beasts. The fabric vendor isn't too far from here, once Kalmia is attending to her task, he'll be slipping into the shadows.

The creatures are definitely stuffed in too tight cages, it will probably be a relief to free them - if that is Kalmia's intentions. 

“What a magnificent specimen you have there, saer. In all my days, I haven't seen one with such colors or scale patterns. Did you breed that beauty yourself?” The shop owner inquires.

Breed her? It takes all his power to not sneer in disgust at the man. She's not some run of the mill lizard, sold to ignorant parents! She's a full (half)- blooded dragon! His partner, who just so happens to be small at this moment…

Containing his snobbery, if only for this conversation, Astarion gives a tight smile. “No, I just found the beast wandering the woods and it took a liking to me.”

“Ay, amazing what bonds these little beings can form. Shame it lost its wings though. If you see one you like, or better yet, want to pass along that one's lineage, let m-”

Whipping around and stalking off to a secluded corner, he rips the skewer out of Kalmia's grubby claws, “Hey! I'm not-”

“Little wyrm, when you create your distraction, make sure that man can't recover any of his goods and services. You have plenty of food, hop to it.” 

She growls like a cat before throwing herself to the ground. “Ugh, fine. Once this is done, I want to go to the beach.”

“As you wish.” He watches as she scampers off, weaving between people's legs and diving under stalls. When her green-tipped tail has slipped under the beast seller, Astarion takes that as his cue to get into position. Who knows what chaos this feral dragon is about to unleash.

Finding a scroll of gust of wind , he stands at the ready. Even if the fabrics get a little dirty, this endeavor will still be well worth the sacrifice. He needs these for his projects.

A shout from behind gets his attention. The beast seller’s clothes are lit up in white flames while all the captive creatures are in the process of being freed by one tiny green dragon. Each beast that escapes its cage launches forward onto unsuspecting patrons and vendors, burning, magicking and attacking everything in sight.

Maybe next time, that man will learn not to cage such creatures.

Taking this chance in the ensuing disorder, Astarion casts gust of wind down the street, upending stalls and tables so all their contents go flying. 

People are cowering in terror and calling for the citywatch, he isn't going to wait for them to show up. Quickly locating the silks and patterned textiles that have scattered across the ground, Astarion begins the arduous task of shoving them into his bags of holding. He's not the only one looting though and he might have punched a random woman in the face when she reached for a bolt of his fabric. 

Alright, he's collected all his spoils, there's no way he can steal back his gold from the food stalls at this point, he needs to grab that damnably old lizard and run. 

Is he surprised to see that she sits on a pile of crates up high, breathing fire like the fiend that she is? No, of course not. He does also spot the beast vendor, trying to get to her. Now that won't do. 

Astarion shoves the man to the ground, cutting loose his very heavy coin purse and attaching it to his own belt, he places his dagger against the man's throat. “If I ever see you again, know that I will gut you. A word of advice though - animal handling isn't really your thing. ” He'd relish the meal right now, but there's too many people. It can wait. 

Flinging herself onto his shoulders, they make haste before the citywatch shows up. All it takes is one wrong person recognizing what he is and escape becomes that much more perilous, and he'd rather not break the polymorph spell yet. They're having so much fun! 

Returning back to the crowd, Astarion listens as Kalmia directs him to the beach. It's not one of his favorite locales, on account of him not being able to step foot in the ocean, but she indulged him, so it's time to return the favor.

There’s a bite to the wind as they near the beach and he shivers, wishing he would have brought a warming enchantment, but alas, he'll have to rely on his personal heater for comfort. 

Unfortunately, that won't pan out as the second his boots hit the sand, Kalmia dives to the ground, little legs kicking it up as she sprints towards the water. 

My puddle-loving weirdo.

He follows at a distance, watching as she splashes in the shallows and cackling when she's buffeted by large waves.

This night could not have gone better. 

Pulling two blankets out of a bag, he lays one on the ground to sit on while the other is wrapped around his shoulders, not that it does much, but it cuts the worst of the chill.

The beach is completely empty, so his frenzied love is making the most of it, barreling from one end to the other, flailing about tripping on grasses and rocks. 

“Little wyrm, I'm feeling quite neglected at this moment. Where's my love and affection?” He whines.

Her head pokes up from some bushes, cocking curiously at his words before racing his way, taking a giant leap and landing with a splat before him. 

Astarion frowns, unimpressed. Kalmia crawls towards him with excitement. “Irthiski, look! Look, look, look!” She wiggles vigorously, burying her body in the sand with just her head and tail kept above. Seems the pellet her mother provided is wearing off, her mind is regressing.

One wicked turn deserves another, hmm? “You performed well back there. Would you like one of your treats?” The tone is mocking, speaking to her the way one might a pet, but she takes no notice as she bursts forth from the sand, and runs in circles chasing her tail. 

Ugh, he doesn't have the energy to entertain these deranged dragon antics. 

A treat is proffered and she gnaws at it as if she's never eaten a day in her life. Her tail curls around his ankle and Astarion, against his better judgment, can't help but smile. Wild as she is, he wouldn't have it any other way.

But maybe it's time to return to normal, he'd like to be warm and-

“Evening! Rarely see anyone out here at this time of night.” A well-to-do young man approaches them from the beach entrance. Short blonde hair, soft features, an unmistakable innocence to him… Definitely the kind of man Astarion would have brought to Cazador once upon a time. 

And also the kind he might be attracted to in general, but well, his tastes have evolved to angry old women. Or really just the one in front of him that is giving more attention to a chunk of meat than him.

Woe is me.

He offers him a small acknowledgement in the hopes that he continues on quickly, but that is a mistake, the man takes that as interest. 

“I haven't seen you around, did you come in with the caravan?”

“No.” Does he look like some traveling carnie? These high born types, always expecting others to play into their mild interest… He knows it all too well.

The man has stepped closer, he's probably pleasant, Astarion doesn't care. He wants to spend time alone with his dragon, uninterrupted. They get bothered enough at home.

He's unsure what is running through that little lizard brain right now. She's frozen mid-bite on her meat, staring blankly, maybe she understands he's getting hit on right now or maybe she's just lost in a food haze.

Freak.

[ebbing-terror]

'Is that so...?'

Yhea. She figured as much...

The end of Lynn's stick sat motionless against the sand and a soft breath puffed from her, dejected.

she'd have an easier time making a statue laugh...

Though there was no point in it, Lynn's eyes followed the call of her name where an eerily benevolent smile waited for her, grinding salt in the wound of failure. Look at him, going as far as to squint a little as if he could actually feel anything.

He had the same cold smile of a surgeon promising it wouldn't hurt a bit.

And there came the gentle patronizing.

"Yhea, I know that..."

Lynn nodded earnestly. Mahito had told her about Gojo.

Seriously, she wasn't a dumb little kid and she was tired of being treated that way. 'Geto's' lofty counsel might work on his followers but Lynn wasn't a lost lamb, she chose to live amongst the wolves, ignoring the danger at every turn. She was a reckless thing.

Besides, why did Lynn have to be afraid of anything when she was under the arm of such a powerful curse?

Her mother hadn't stuck around to teach Lynn any better, to warn her of about the dangers of playing with monsters and loving the wrong person....

Come to think of it....

Kenjaku had this odd habit of being almost motherly... Was it how Geto, the real Geto, truly was? Was it a learned behavior carried from a previous host? Had Kenjaku ever truly been human at all?

Lynn was certain there was a lizard brain occupying 'Geto's' cranium...Maybe she just watched too many horror movies....

Murky lakes gazed out onto the ocean. Crystal clear waters caressed the shore with hushed whispers, gifting the sands with the occasional crustacean or two.

A crab scuttled near Lynn, it's brilliant, carnelian color and robust size catching her eye. Something inside the girl jumped, driven by excitable instinct she dropped the stick and dove forward, snatching up the creature. A wave swallowed her hand but it didn't pull away her shiny prize, tearing it from the tide.

She watched spindly legs kick and big claws snap uselessly. Lynn had it by the rear, fingers and thumb firm on the crab's back and belly.

"He let me go, though..."

She held the crab up, observing it's intricate limbs and beady eyes.

"Guess he had better things to do..."

Though it didn't really seem like it with the way he was mozying around. Mahito was right. The guy acted like he was nothing but leg below his nipples.

"it's kinda hard to believe someone like that...Is the strongest..."

Even someone like her could tell...

Her voice was a little more solemn then, remembering the gravity of Satoru's presence...How easily he could've killed her...How fucked she was without Mahito around....

Lynn curled a finger and held it near the crab, it was only a matter of time before it clamped her.

"Ow."

It didn't hurt that much.

A smirk crawled across Lynn's lips suddenly, sending a teasing, slick look to the deboniar man.

"Sorcerers are all pretty pretentious, aren't they~?"

Silly little monkey. She thought she was being funny.

Lynn was crouched down, using a stick to draw aimless shapes in the sand. With an elbow propped upon a knee she rested her cheek in that palm, observing the scribbles she made as if it were her very own zen garden.

Scratch scratch scratch!

Too reckless and thoughtless to be anything of the sort, but Lynn was enjoying herself- occupied.

She swished the stick, erasing the grooves the made to provide herself a blank canvas again, dragging sloppy stars into existence.

"Guess who I bumped into the other day..."

She didn't give Kenjaku the chance.

"It was that Gojo guy..."

Her eyes wandered over to the body-hopper, waiting for something that never happened- for Kenjaku's expression to shift. A raise of his brow, a dimming of that serpent-like smile- for those dead eyes to show a flicker of genuine intrest...Anything...

Unwaveringly resigned...His voice never strayed above or below that singular barline that was a perpetual, even, monotone.

IT WAS SO CREEPY!!!! And not in the fun way...

No, it reminded Lynn of some twisted doctor. Unfeeling, serving his own interests, harvesting those who were useful...Something about 'Geto' really got under her skin...And hospitals...She didn't like those either...

Oh!

Her thoughts had wandered into sterile, blinding white corridors and the eerie sensation of a long needle sliding deep into her arm. Hospitals gave her the creeps. And so did 'Geto'.

She tried to make her staring subtle, eyes straining at their corners trying to get as good a look at Kenjaku without turning her head. If he knew she was watching him then he might deliberately withhold any reaction that came, right? Lynn would.

"I was on my way home one day and ran into him on the street- or, his forcefield."

It was pretty scary. Gojo had seen right through her, knew exactly what she was and who she hung around...And let her go about her way.

"Just thought you'd like to know.."

She continued scraping the sand, only pretending to give up on revoking a reaction out of 'Geto', trying to bait him into asking about the encounter, but she had a churning suspicion all she'd get would be a 'That's nice.' or some placid, detatched response of the sort.

MOST SORCERERS WILL LIVE OUT THE ENTIRETY of their lives believing cursed energy to be a singular thing — whimsically, in a similar way to how non-sorcerers perceive it. The popular franchise 'Star Wars' had set a useful reference for that sort of understanding; cursed energy would be paralleled to 'the force' as an added element of sorts that was only palpable for some and directly linked to the human condition & sentimentalities. For a lifetime or two, Kenjaku had fallen victim to this narrow-minded rhetoric, as well. That was, until they'd met Master Tengen.

[ ... ]

Violet eyes linger over the tabloid page as it's nonchalantly flipped. One forgettable smile gives way to another, one bland life-story of a modern day celebrity exchanged for more superficial gossip. You would think that creatures blessed - or cursed - with such longetivity would have a rekindled interest in watching the world progress. But the humans of this age entertain themselves with the same things they did centuries ago — religion, breeding, food. Societal rules are not as flexible as they believe them to be; the passage of time shapes their traditions as meticulously as river-waters do the bedrock, but in that grander scheme of things, not much has changed. Humans are still squabbling over the same things they were a thousand years ago.

The world, as it is, is a very finite, predictable thing.

And dreadfully boring.

His glare trails over to the girl crouched on Dagon's sands. A thin brow quirks over the mention, her intent plain in the way she restarted her little project anew. A new attempt at garnering attention from them was imminent — she was similar to Mahito in that way. But Kenjaku has lived around capricious curses long enough to know; no matter how well they immitate it, the human nature will always elude them. For as exceptional as Mahito may be when it comes to performing the full spectrum of human emotion, it is his nature.

With that same tranquility, 'Geto's' eyes return to the page, just as Dagon squirts a water pillar in the distance and the waves lick the sands a little higher, just enough to tease his painted toenails with a sea-spritz. With a hum, he crosses one muscly leg over the other, lets full lips curl into a half-smirk without parting with the pages. Lynn, at first glimpse, is that naive girl in every mother's cautionary tale towards her daughter, swept aside by a dangerous creature; how else could someone like her find themselves lounging in a special grade's domain among cursed spirits?

But Kenjaku has never been the sort to settle for short-sighted conclusions — has Mahito put her up to this? Clearly, this is throwing bait but to what end? In either case, the metaphorical jab at her intrigue is returned with a serene cadence.

❝ Is that so. ❞ The tabloid lowers to offer an amicable smile that lacks warmth. He sits up, lingers on the plastic chaise lounge a moment longer, briefly noting the pattern of scattering stars the girl had busied herself with. ❝ Lynn-chan? ❞ A soft utterance beckons her gaze. There's a slight crinkle to Geto's own.

❝ You know, Gojo Satoru is not only the strongest sorcerer alive, but also one of very few special grade sorcerers currently in service. That practically means that if a powerful cursed spirit's presence was detected, he would be the one summoned to find and excorcise it. ❞ Kenjaku's tone is as lax as ever, but the implication is made very clear. The girl has displayed a profound disregard for her own security by being here, after all — but she is invested in a certain curse.

[buginateacup]

hmm. turns out I have three things I could update right now. smart brain says stagger posting them for maximum good brain juice. Monkey brain says POST ALL THE THINGS NOW

lizard brain mostly wants sleep

[queerpontmercy]

real talk i am so tired of job applications. and yeah it’s boring to have the same complaint for months but fuck it i’m just exhausted. and i don’t want to grovel anymore.

[momtaku]

I really love your Eren posts, considering he's probs the most controversial character in the story rn in terms of the fandom. Your posts always come off as completley unbiased swaying to neither side, only stating what we know for sure and what we can assume about him, his motivations, goal, mindset, etc. A description I like is that he's just a guy with a heart way too big for his body and a burden way too big for his shoulders. But he's still human and makes mistakes and that's why I love him

I’d love to agree with you and accept your lovely compliment but believe me when I say that I aggressively fight my bias every time I write about him. I recognize that everything you say about him is true and when I focus on those things I am in a good headspace about him. He’s a fascinating literary character who is loved by a large portion of the fandom. His ability to keep moving forward is inspirational for many.  I respect that. And in my heart I want him to be a hero in this story. I am not enjoying the literary trashing that he’s taking.

[some-of-the-crow-witches]

i got the “smart” tism and i still hyperfixate on stupid stuff

i was told i have i high iq. i cannot shucking spell. i am failing in school. i used to get reelly overwhelked at least once a day because there was this annoying little mother shucker who would deliberately talk loudly and get in my face every single cod damn day and wouldn’t even stop after i broke down crying or even after i went and hid. and then the annotating in ela would make it impossible to reed and since it didn’t make sense to me (both the annotations and why we should annotate) so i was always behind and it was for a grade and the pressure would make it feel like everyone was watching me and then i’d break down again. i have no friends that aren’t neurodivergent. i had never had friends until now. i am going to destroy humanity. (except for the cool people(which, let’s face it, are all probably autistic, meaning that the entire population of the earth will be autistic when i’m done)) in seventh grade i had a friend who could tell you almost anyfin about the brain and the natures of disorders but could go nonverbal for quite a while (usual one month at max) if there’s was a super loud noise. we also both use fish puns in the daily life. i tend to ramble. i’m gonna keep on tolkien despite my better judgement. i can’t touch some rubber without scratching my hand until i bleed afterwards. if you put your phone up to my ear and play somefin do i can hear it then im gonna start scratching and try to to my ear off because i just really hate close noises. this even hampens with certain people if they’re talking to close and have a certain voice. for some reason this doesn’t hampen with headphones. i love headphones. i say things as they are so naturally im absolute shot at comforting people and i also sound like a bitch. i am pretty bitchy though, like i hear what im saying i just don’t care. i picked all the butterfly wings off my moms car and now i have a bunch of them doing along with a dropped lizard tail. i have a bird corpse under my bed. no one knows about it. they’re macerating. i named my roadkill bird gwen. i named a corpse. i have an imaginary friend. this is a common thing among autistic people. her name is millie. she is a witch. she lives in the ceiling and loves hugs. all the little creatures made of splotches of darkness love her. they make my life a little harder. i also name them. there’s hush, just, sherk, chills, cloak bitch, sleep, jeff, and many more. i was hyperfixating on torture for quite a while. i still love torture but now fixating on vulture culture. i love shiny things and antique boxes. i love shiny things. i should probably stop talking now.

moral of the story there is no distinct “low-functioning” and “high-functioning” It. Is. A. Spectrum.

Neurotypical people when they realize that Autism is an actual disability and doesn’t always make you super genius Sheldon Cooper intelligent like in the media

[mrskurono]

Separately, but how much convincing do Atsushi, Aku, and Chuuya need to have spontaneous, semi-public sex (or oral) with reader ~ 👀 (if you can answer! Thanks for your time, you are a brilliant writer!)

a/n: my brain has pms but god damn it I won't try my best; also Chuuya looks beautiful in this theme like hot damn type: headcanons tags: fem!Reader, public (obviously), mentions of; handjobs, oral (giving + receiving), vaginal fingering, cockwarming, vaginal sex, ranchiness ♡

Honestly, the easiest out of the three to convince to do anything you damn well want

You've seen this man's will to tell people no

It's nonexistent and telling you no is literally a fate worse than death to him

Dr. Yosano is busy in her office, Kunikida is clocked out for the day and Dazai never stays late so where's the harm?

When your gaze lingers a little longer on Atsushi across the desk from you, admiring how handsome he is with his brows pinched in thought

Unaware of your gaze until you're sitting right next to him, leaning in on your elbow and slipping your free hand between his thighs

Met with a decisive squeak of surprise from how hard he was concentrating

Atsushi can't help the hushed demand of what you're doing while his cheeks turn seven shades darker

"You looked good working."

"We're working!!!"

"But shouldn't overtime be rewarded?"

Be if your hand groping him through his slacks or the half lidded dreamy look you have casted over at him, Atsushi can't say no

Not when your fingers fiddle with his zipper silently. Only the sparse tapping of his fingers on his laptop being stunted as you free his cock from his pants

Fingers curled around his length and pumping him slowly under the desk

Thank for all the agency's cluttered desk as no one can see a thing but you two sitting together like normal

Far from normal though as beads of sweat trickle along Atsushi's hairline

His labored breathing almost like an echo in the nearly empty office space

Atsushi fighting with all his will to stay silent until he's forced to grip the edge of the desk

White knuckles, chewing on his lips as his cock throbs in your hand

Getting caught isn't in either of your agendas so the second you feel him gasp and throb in your grasp

That's when you lean in and coo softly as Atsushi cums all over a napkin you pocketed from lunch

Watching his thick creamy cum soil the paper as you pump him a few more times for good measures

Atsushi a little dizzy when you lean over and kiss him on the cheek

"Let's clock out, we're not done here weretiger."

Don't be fooled, Ranpo knows but all you have to do is slip him a snack heh

Second best bet to get him to do anything you want to

And if it's at the Black Lizard's base of operations while they're out?

Well that's just a free pass right there isn't it?

Chuuya's as easy as a book to read so when he's spent the last twenty or so minutes looking at you chewing gum and popping it with a satisfying snap

It's pretty obvious where his mind is

"Your coat hides shit when you're that hard Nakahara."

Que an outburst that only lasts as long as brushing his cheek and snapping the gum inches from his lips last

He cannot say no to the idea of your lips wrapped around his cock

And such a petite sized man makes for the neatest blow jobs <3

Ravishing him with your attentive tongue, even if it's bubblegum flavored spit, Chuuya can't keep his moans to a minimum as you take him all in your mouth

Dumb enough to let you do it nearly out in the open at the base

Doesn't matter bc his brain is in his dick and you can suck out every last braincell he has by slurping down his cum the second he twitches in your mouth

Chuuya does have nice tasting cum though ♡

Doesn't stop there though bc he's not about to leave something half done and the mission won't have anyone back for a while right?

Can't keep his lips off your clit in the moments you lick him clean

Expert little tongue with a man hungry for your juices won't stop the cascading orgasm that Chuuya draws from you

Clit throbbing against his tongue as he stuffs his gloved fingers in you just to ride out your orgasm

Man on his knees knows to lick his hand clean so there's no evidence to be found ♡

Evidence is found when poor Tachihara keeps walking in on Chuuya on his knees, RIP Tachihara's sanity

Sighs...the hardest just ton convince to have sex regularly

And if there's even a minor chance of getting caught, Akutagawa will not so much as allow a kiss on the cheek

That leaves getting, creative, to spice it up

Your best chance for a touchy Akutagawa is whenever he's recouping or down under the weather

And who doesn't get a little horny when they're sick?

"My...looks like you could use some help there huh?"

He might be laid up on the couch but Akutagawa is acutely aware of the half hard on you're spying through his clothes

Everyone does have their daily routine and daily missions and should be gone well into the evening

Perhaps indulging in the human touch wouldn't kill him when he thinks its in the clear

Poor thing sick like this but good thing his cock still works for you ♡

Snuggles quickly turn to some nice slow spooning sex

Wiggling your ass back on his hip bones to feel his cock twitch as deep in you as possible

Akutagaw groaning and gripping your sides with his face buried in the back of your neck

He's sick but god do you make him forget that for a moment

Grinding yourself on him in the tiny confines of the couch

Leaving his cock slick with your juices as you take the position as conveniently to let you play with yourself

Toying with your clit until you've lost the number of times you climaxed with him buried inside you

Each time making him moan harder and twitch inside you while just the simple sensation of your walls milking him makes Akutagawa wanna cum

But the second either of you hear the door creak, your bodies freeze

Covered in a blanket, tucked together on the couch, the rest of the Lizards can't help but comment on how cute it is that you're snuggling with the boss

Without knowing Akutagawa is pumping you full of cum bc the lil perv can't believe he got caught with his cock balls deep in you ♡

Again poor Tachihara knows but...alas is his cross to bare heh

[o-rchidae]

Terrortober 2022 Day 19 - Gun

Neil ‘the rat guy’ Hickey, or to be more accurate the tropical rodent keeper, was the owner of an impressive set of guns. His biceps, not actual guns, but he also owned an air rifle and a tranquilizer dart gun, Billy wasn’t sure why. He was often reprimanded for taking his work shirt off in the Tropical Realm enclosure, although Billy wasn’t complaining. The dude must have been a complete gym nut because he was absolutely shredded. One time he had noticed Billy ogling him and very slowly and suggestively stripped to the waist, maintaining eye contact the whole time. Billy had been so flustered they had to leave.

Finally, Billy worked up the courage to talk to him. They had heard some rumours about him, that he sold weed on the side. Billy wasn’t the biggest fan of edibles, they made them feel as though they were trapped in their own brain, but they were willing to partake if there was the possibility of sex.

There he was, helping Solly and Pilkington set up a new lizard tank, shovelling mulch, biceps flexing.

“Alright,” Hickey said in greeting, “Billy isn’t it? From the café?” Neil said.

“Yeah, hi. Look I was wondering if you were selling today.” Billy stammered.

“Really? I wouldn’t have pegged you as being into that.”

“Er, it’s for my anxiety.”

“Cool. Cool. I’m taking a cigarette break, meet me in the nocturnal animal house in ten minutes.”

Ten minutes later and Billy was waiting restlessly in the dark trying to find the Aye-aye. They had been working here for two years and they had never seen it and was beginning to think that it didn’t exist. They were startled by a tap on their shoulder.

“So what can I get you?” Hickey whispered. There was no one else there but somehow the atmosphere required hushed tones. “I’ve been growing a hybrid strain, very mellow, should be good for what you want. I’m calling it Moon Safari, you know, like the album.”

“Sure, that sounds great.” Billy said.

“It’s a tenner for a gram if you want to try it out first or I can give you an eighth for forty.”

Damn, Billy hadn’t thought this far ahead, as they realised they didn’t have any cash on them.

“I um…” they said hesitantly. “I don’t have any money. This was just an excuse to talk to you.”

Hickey was quiet for a moment then let out a wheezy laugh.

“That is… adorable,” he said, “Tell you what, go out with me on Friday and I might consider giving you a free sample.”

Read the rest here

[98prilla]

Shifted

Thomas decides to see what all the Side’s animal forms would be. It does not go so well for Anxiety. 

This is set pre accepting anxiety, and diverges a little from the cannon of that episode, fair warning.

He is terrified. His heart is pounding as he pulls further back into the shadows, hiding under the couch. He can hear the others out there, talking, laughing, having fun. This isn’t fun.

“An owl? Really, Thomas, owls aren’t even actually smart, their eyes take up much of their cranial cavity.”

“Come on, kiddo, they are symbols of wisdom. And those wings sure must be nifty! I’m having a pawsome time myself!” A groan at the pun.

“I always thought Logan was a bit bird brained.” Roman mutters. “But seriously, a dragon? While the scales are quite flattering, it is a bit strange, considering I usually fight them.”

“I don’t know, Roman, I guess cause you’re always talking about questing I just settled on a fantasy creature. It is pretty cool." He rolls his eyes at the huff of pride he can hear as Roman no doubt puffs up his chest, flares his wings.

“Speaking of strange, where's anxiety?” his ears flatten against his head, pulse picking up again. They’re talking about him.  

“He should be here. I did summon him.” Thomas, confused. He curses his inability to sink out in this form.

“Perhaps he has taken the form of a smaller animal and is hiding.” He almost hisses, could Logic shut up for once?

“Aw, maybe we should look for him! He’ll probably be so cute!”

“Please. That weirdo is probably a venomous spider or a little parasite. Who cares, where he is?” yes, thank you Roman, for once being not a moron.

“Patton, if you’re worried perhaps you can sniff him out. You are a cat, after all.” No. Nonono. Logic, shut it!

“Good idea, Logan. Give it a try!” and he is outta here before he even knows what he’s doing.  

His terror skyrockets and he shoots out from under the couch to the startled yelps of everyone else. Everything is big, huge, compared to him, the living room seems endless.

The stairs, he just needs to get to the stairs and he'll be able to physically enter the mindscape, he’s so close-

Then there is the flap of wings, a victorious shriek, and talons are digging into his shoulders pinning him down.

“Well, what have we here?” He shoves aside his fear, proud as his voice comes out just as scathing and steady as ever.

“Get off, you overgrown lizard.” He bites out, Roman’s scaled head coming into view. He glares at Roman’s laughter.

“Anxiety, kiddo? Is that you?”

“No, its Joan, yes it’s me, Patton, now get off, Roman!” His heart is beating fast, too fast, and his words are wavering. He is afraid, afraid, afraid. He hates this, hates it, he just wants this to be over.

“Hmm. I don’t think I will. Think about it, Thomas. We have the opportunity here to get anxiety out of our way for good.” His stomach drops, his blood goes cold, he is shaking.

“Roman, what are you suggesting?” Logan, he can’t be considering this, please no, please!

“I mean, we don’t need to vanquish him. We can keep him like this. Put him in a cage, or something.”

“I'm not a pet, you idiot, and you can’t keep me like this forever.” He hisses out.

“Oh contraire, little mouse, we can keep you weak enough you don’t have any choice.” His heart lurches as he is lifted up, Roman's wings buffeting him, they are in the air.

“Roman, put me down! I… please! Pleasepleaseplease…” he is crying now, begging, because he can’t, this can’t be happening, they can’t actually intend to keep him locked in this form, weak and powerless, in a cage.  

The floor seems so far away, and he feels sick, from the altitude shift or what is happening or both, he can’t tell. The anguished terror is filling him and he lets out a broken, choked sob.  

This is what he gets, for thinking he could ever be accepted, for thinking he could ever be tolerated, much less liked. All he’d ever done was his job, and this is his reward.

“Logan, what-" he lets out a squeak despite himself as a blur of gray rams into Roman, sending him spiraling off balance.

Then he feels the talon’s grip slip, and he screams. He is falling, flipping through the air. From this height in this form his bones will break, shatter, with his luck his neck will snap. He has time to cry for help, before he impacts.

“Gotcha!” The halt is jarring, and he is shaking, instinctively flattening himself to make as small a target as possible as he tries to get ahold of himself. He realizes it’s soft, the ground.

He looks up and nearly screams again, instead flattening further. Patton has caught him, sitting on his back haunches, he is caught in Patton's front paws.

“p-p-put me d-down. Please.” His voice is a whisper, trembles making him stutter, but Patton instantly complies, much to his relief.

He hears a shriek and looks up, just in time to see silver talons coming right at him, then they crash into him and he feels a ripping pain in his shoulder.  

He can hear Patton yelling, Logan screeching, Roman growling, and it is loud so loud and all he can think is he is about to die-

“Enough!” Thomas yells, and suddenly the ground isn’t so close, suddenly he is stumbling to his feet, lunging for his normal spot on the stairs, reaching it in two strides. He lets out a relieved sob as he clutches the bannister, looking back at the others.

Logan has landed in a heap on the couch. Patton and Roman are tangled around each other on the floor. Patton's gaze meets his, worried.

“kiddo, you’re bleeding.” He lifts his hand numbly to his shoulder, mildly surprised as it comes away sticky and red. He lets out a broken, bitter laugh.

“Gee, wonder how that happened. Not like someone was trying to kill me, or worse hold me captive and torture me for my whole existence." His voice is raw and instead of biting sarcasm, it comes out as an almost whisper, red rimmed eyes glaring at the floor as he shakes, from latent fear and pulsing anger.

“Anxiety-" he half successfully chokes back another sob, harsh laughter tearing at his lungs.

“no, know what, it’s fine. It’s fine, Thomas. I always knew I wasn’t wanted. I was an idiot to hope you might… might ever actually change, actually want me around. Hell, even care about me like I care about you and keeping you safe.” He can barely stand, he doesn’t know if it’s from the pain and blood loss or the adrenaline fading or the panic attack he can feel pressing against him, tightening his chest.

“Kiddo…” he shakes his head.

“Y'know, if you really wanted me dead, all you had to do was ask. I would’ve done it myself.” He doesn’t look up. Doesn’t see the pained shock on Patton's face, the suspicious surprise on Roman's, the horror on Logan’s. The pain on Thomas's. Instead, he flips up his hood, hugging himself as he wordlessly sinks out.

He managed to lock the door before he collapses to the floor. His chest feels like it's being squeezed by a boa constrictor, his ribs crushed and all the air shoved out of his lungs. His vision narrows to a dark pinprick, gaze unseeing as he sees Roman's talons again and again, falling and splattering against the floor, bones shattered, bars, a cage, closing in, pressing him tight, he can’t breathe, he’s choking, he’s dying, god, he’s going to die here. Why not? He laughs hysterically, that’s what they want, may as well give it to ‘em.

“virgil, no. It’s not what we all want. Come back to me, stormy. Focus on my voice. You can do it, Virgil.” Virgil. None of them know his name. Only, only…

“Dee?” he chokes out, blurry vision focusing enough to see Deceit, holding his hands in his lap, rubbing circles on his knuckles.

“There we are. Hello, dearest.” Deceit reaches up, softly wiping away his tears, brushing back his hair.

“I’m an idiot. I’m a stupid idiot.” He mutters.

“No. Virgil, you’re not. It’s ok.” He hisses in a breath of pain as Dee places a hand on his shoulder, vision going speckly at the slight contact. Dee pulls away, eyes wide, face darkening to fury.

“You’re hurt. Vee, you’re bleeding" he just shrugs, another sob clawing its way out of his throat.

“Doesn’t matter.” He whispers. Deceit hisses, and pulls him onto his lap.

“It does. Even if they don’t care, even if they don’t love you, I do. It matters to me. You will always matter to me. You’re my baby, Virg. Even if you’ve left the nest, you’re still my little rain storm. Got it?” He feels Dee's extra arms removing his hoodie, then all six are cradling him against Dee's chest, holding him tight and safe and secure, letting him relax and melt into the touch, knowing Dee will never let anything hurt him. He feels Dee press a kiss to his head.

“you’ve wiped yourself out, love. I'll take care of that nasty shoulder gash. Get some sleep, dearest.” Weakly, he clings to Dee's shirt. He doesn’t want him to let go, he doesn’t feel safe, if Dee lets go.

“I’m staying, darling. I’ll stay as long as you want.”

“remus-"

“can rain down all the hell he wants. Until you’re better, they deserve it.” He finds he can’t argue with that. He falls asleep to Dee humming softly, stroking his forehead and holding his hand, his other arms working to gently bandage his shoulder.

Deceit sighs as he hears a crash. Looking up, he sees Remus kick in the door, eyes aflame.

“who hurt him? Who’s ass do I gotta beat until it falls off?”  

“hush. I just got him settled.” Dee replies. In three strides, Remus is beside him, head cocked unnaturally far to the side, like a snapped neck.

“He’s ok?” Remus asks, neck snapping back to a normal position with an audible click.

“yes. Keep an eye on him, please?”

“What? Where're you going?” Remus asks. Deceit’s eyes flash.

“I am going to go see what exactly those half-witted buffoons did to send him spiraling. Then I am going to determine whom it is I need to beat the shit out of.” Deceit growled, stepping away from the bed.

“Boo, you never let me have any fun.” Remus pouts. He instantly stops as Virgil lets out a small sound, immediately climbing into the bed with him and spooning around him. Virgil curls against him immediately, stilling as he clings onto Remus.

“Thank you.” Deceit murmurs from the doorway. Remus nods.

“I'll take care of our little stormy night. You go teach ‘em a lesson, Dee.” Remus replies, relishing the sharp fanged smile Deceit flashes him, before sinking out. As an afterthought, he snaps, replacing the door, before turning his attention to Virgil, trying to mentally send him all of his love. Virgil is more of a brother to him  than Roman has ever been, and he hates seeing him hurt.

“hang in there, vee. Dee'll fix everything.”

“I highly doubt he wants to be called right now.”

“But he was so scared! We have to help!”

“I don’t know Pat, seeing us might make it worse.” He clears his throat. He meets three sets of surprised eyes with steel. Thomas yelps and falls backwards, catching himself on the wall.

“Who is that?!”  

“Deceit, you scurrilous snake, what are you doing here?” his eyes narrow at that.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Roman, was I not wanted here at this exact moment?” his voice is a perfect mimicry of Virgil's, and to his satisfaction it makes Roman flinch.

“Thomas. This is Deceit. He is responsible for the lies you tell not only others, but yourself. I am puzzled as to why you have appeared now. To my knowledge, no lies have been spoken.” Logan explains, and his hands ball into fists.

“Oh, truly, why ever would I be here? It'ssss not like Anxiety returned bloody and injured, in the midsssst of a panic attack, talking about how nobody wantssss him and it doessssn't matter. I’m sure that hassss nothing to do with it, Logic.” He hisses out, spitting Logan's title like it burns his tongue.

He can see Patton's guilty face out of the corner of his eye, knows whatever happened, it wasn’t him. But Roman… yes.

“So Thomas, dear, care to explain what happened?” He asks, sickly sweet, turning his gaze to Thomas, who has a slight frown on his face. As an afterthought, he notes that Thomas isn’t afraid of him, despite his scales and sharp fangs. Interesting.

“I thought it would be cool to see what everyone’s animal forms would be. Logan was an owl, Pat was a persian cat, and Roman was a dragon. But we didn’t see anxiety anywhere so we thought he was small and hiding and maybe too scared to move. Pat was gonna find him, then a mouse shot out from under the couch and Roman…” Thomas trails off, eyes shifting away, but it’s enough to confirm his suspicions.

“Roman. Care to continue?” Roman meets his ice cold gaze imperiously.  

“gladly. I captured the fiend in my claws. Hurting him was an accident. I merely meant to catch him while he was small and couldn’t hurt us and contain him. Keep him small, so he’d stop bothering Thomas. It’s not like we need him, anyways.” Roman scoffs.

Rage is filling him. Because Roman truly thinks he is in the right, truly thinks he didn’t do anything wrong, and his voice is proud as he speaks about traumatizing Virgil, who is the youngest, the smallest, the most vulnerable to start with. How dare he?

Before he can think, he has crossed the room, he rears his hand back and slaps Roman hard enough to send him reeling backwards.

“You are a heartless, soulless bastard. I told him not to come, I told him he’d get hurt but he didn’t listen. You know why? It’s certainly not because he wants to be included, he doesn’t yearn for your acceptance, it doesn’t break him a little more each time you all dismiss and send him away unwanted. He definitely doesn’t just want to be liked! He never has a hard enough time just being himself, being afraid, all the fucking time, and you have certainly helped make him feel right at home.” He hisses, ignoring the tears stinging at his eyes as he whips around, facing the rest of them.

“And you’re no better. How do you think it feels, knowing the person who conjured you doesn’t even want you? How terrified would you be, surrounded by people who have never showed you kindness, who have admitted their distaste, small and defenseless, being threatened to be put in a cage? His worst fear is something happening to Thomas and being unable to reach him, to react and help. It’s his job to protect Thomas, and you were threatening to keep him away, to put Thomas’s own safety at risk for your own stupid biases! You were threatening to make his nightmare real, and not a single fucking one of you said otherwise, did you?!” He yells, slowly looking at each of them in turn. No one will meet his eyes now, not even Roman.

“you don’t deserve him. You don’t deserve his name. No wonder he hasn’t told you. You’re a bunch of ignorant bullies. And you’d say I’m the bad guy. You all picked out the most vulnerable and pounced.” He shifts his head, turning to Thomas, a curling, empty smile on his face.

“It was a fucking pleasure, Thomas. I’ll be taking my leave.” The lie is bitter and acrid on his tongue, tasting of ash as he sinks out.

He returns to Virgil's room, immediately hurrying to his bedside, because he is crying, despite Remus's attempts to soothe him.

“Vee, what’s wrong?” he asks. Virgil glares at him through his tears.

“you said you were gonna stay!” he lets out a soft breath, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“I know. I just had to check on something. But you know Remus would never let anything hurt you, right?” Virgil nods, leaning back into Remus's arms.

“That’s right, starshine. You’re safe.” Remus whispers, rocking Virgil gently, who responds by pressing his face into Remus's chest.

“You’re staying now, right?” Virgil mumbles. He smiles, slipping under the covers.

“I am. No lies this time.” He murmurs as Virgil lays down, curling into him. He reaches out with all six arms, pulling Remus closer, hugging both of them and sandwiching Virgil in warmth and safety.

“What was it?” Remus asks lowly, once Virgil is out again. He sighs.

“Shapeshifting, animal forms. He was a mouse. Roman was a dragon. Threatened to keep him locked up. It got physical.”

“You mean Roman was a bitch and attacked Virgil unprovoked.” Remus's voice is flat, and he shoots him a soft look, one of his hands slipping into Remus's.

“I’m going to kill him.” He squeezes Remus's hand.

“Later. We can work on murder plans later. Right now Vee needs us.”

“Anxiety, it’s dinner time!” Patton's voice trills. He opens his eyes with a groan, freezing instantly.

This… isn’t his room. It isn’t even the commons. He’s laying in soft bedding. He realizes he’s in a little plastic hut. His heart speeds. He looks down at himself, human, good.

He flinches as the house is lifted up, leaving him exposed. His breath catches in his lungs, Patton is looming over him, he is giant. He skitters back, realizing his back is pressing against metal wire. Cage, he is in a cage, he is tiny, in a cage.

He scrambles, trying to claw his way out, trying to bend the wire enough to wriggle out.

“hey, now. None of that kiddo.” His stomach flips as hands squeaze around his waist and he is lifted into the air. He is barely as tall as Patton's ring finger, he is so high in the air as Patton places him down on his palm.

“patton please, please, just let me go, please!” he begs, feeling tears slipping down his face.

“Aw, I know kiddo. But this is better for everyone. This way you’re still around but don’t bother Thomas.” He stumbles as Patton places him back in the cage, doubling over and choking on sobs as a small food dish is placed inside, the shadows of bars shading his face.

He is still begging, pleading, screaming, for Patton, for anyone, to let him out, let him go, but he knows no one is coming, and the bars are pressing in, and soon there won’t be any more space, any more air.  

“hush, stormy, shhh. It’s ok. It’s ok, lovely.” His eyes fly open, and he clings to Dee, feeling all of his arms cradling him tight as he sniffles into his shoulder, sobs shaking his thin frame.

“Just a dream, Vee." He feels Remus's hand on his, feels the terror and residual fear draining out of him as the nightmare is removed from his mind. The pros of dark creativity. Remus can steal other people’s bad thoughts, bad dreams, but then he experiences whatever the thoughts were. He hears Remus's sharp inhale as he sees it, feels his hand tighten it’s grip.

“thanks ree.” He manages, his voice hoarse and sore.

“Virgil, love, we should talk about it. I only got minor details from them.”

“what’s to say? They were going to keep me in a cage, they d-didn't want me.” Dee draws back a tad, looking down at Virgil's face, eyes hidden behind his bangs.

“did anyone help? Surely not all of them went along with this.” He shrugs, taking a deep breath.

“R-roman g-g-rabbed me in his talons and st-started flying. But he yelled… I think L-Logan tried to stop him. He was an o-o-owl. I think he rammed Roman and made him drop me. P-p-patton c-caught me. And… and he put me down, right away, when I asked. I… I don't think they woulda let Roman k-keep me.” He mumbles out, shaking. Dee feels his heart breaking, can feel the murder on Remus's face.

“That's good, Virge. They were trying to defend you.” Virgil shakes his head.

“but they didn’t. Only p-patton even cared I was h-hurt. Thomas… Thomas didn't say a-anything.”

“but he changed you back.” His brow creases as he looks out from Dee's arms at Remus's words. “if he agrees with Roman, he wouldn’t have changed you back.”  

“He's right, lovely. Thomas doesn’t hate you. I know that. That is fact.” He sighs.

“Doesn’t feel like it right now.” He mumbles.

“I know. And that’s ok, Virge.” Dee kisses his head softly. He startles at a knock on the door.  

“Remus, see who it is?”

“If it’s princey stab him for me.” Virgil mumbles, making Remus chuckle and ruffle his hair.

“Gladly, stormy.”  

He throws open the door, leaning in the doorway with a cocky grin, teeth sharp and eyes glinting.

“Well, well, hello there Daddy. Have I been naughty?” he teases, moving to block Patton's view of the room.

“Remus… what… what are you doing here?” Patton asks nervously.  

“Apparently playing the butler. Y'know, Patton, in the movies the butler is always guilty of murder.” He tilts his head slowly, relishing the fear that races across Patton's face. “Now, what are you doing here, daddio?” Patton fiddles with his sweater sleeves, a frown settling on his face.

“I just… I know he probably doesn’t want to see us right now, heck, maybe ever, and I don’t fault him for it. Today… today was bad. Really, really bad. I just want to make sure he's ok. And apologize. We… we chewed out Roman. His actions were unacceptable. Just… I would never let that happen. He’s not… he’s a person, and I don’t always agree with him, but that doesn’t give anyone the right to take away his voice or opinion. Can you just… pass that on, for me? Please?”  

Remus looks back at the bed, softening as he sees Virgil uncurling from Dee, sitting with his knees pulled to his chest, leaning against Dee, who has an arm around his shoulders. Virgil looks up at Dee, a silent question.  

“No lies.” Dee murmurs, and Virgil bites his lip. “You wanna let him in?” He asks softly. Virgil hesitates, but nods.  

“If he means it... yeah.” Virgil mumbles.  

“He does. Remus, stop playing. V- Anxiety says he can come in.” He calls, catching himself before using Virgil’s actual name. Remus sighs, but steps aside.  

“Well? Come in then.”  

Hesitantly, Patton steps inside the dark room, taking in the soft, dark carpet, the dark to light purple gradient painted on the walls. There are also posters for bands carefully hung in frames, and a few posters for movies that Anxiety must like. He sees fairy lights strung across the ceiling that sparkle like stars without the main lights turned on.  

He lets out a soft noise of hurt as he takes in Anxiety, knees pulled to his chest, his shoulders hunched. His eyeshadow is smeared all over his face, his eyes red and puffy. He glances at Deceit, not as surprised to see him here, tilting his head. Deceit nods minutely, and he sits down next to Anxiety, legs dangling over the edge of the bed, careful not to touch him, to give him space.  

“hey kiddo. How’s your shoulder?” He asks.  

“better. Dee helped. It still... still hurts.” His voice is quiet and unsure and hoarse.  

“Yeah. I think it would be pretty strange if it didn’t. I’m glad you’re going to be ok, though. Even if it hurts now, it’ll feel better eventually.”  

“will it?” He is surprised as Patton pulls him into a hug, startled, but after a moment he leans into it, tucking his chin against Patton’s shoulder.  

“I have never wanted you to die. I have never wanted you to leave. You’re one of my kiddos, kiddo, and that means I stand up for you when something hurts you, no matter who or what it is.”

“i’m scared. I hate... I hate being small... I hate... it’s so big, everything... I could drown, in a puddle, I could be crushed by a book, I could be stepped on, I could be crushed, I could get hurt and no one would know, no one would realize or find me. I could be caged...” He chokes out, fear flooding through him again. “I could be caged and my influence squashed, and then no one would protect Thomas, look out for dangers, keep him... keep him on task, keep him motivated to d-do better. I c-can't... trapped, and b-bars and it-it's too much... too small...” He is shaking again, on the edge of hysteria, but Patton is rocking him, holding him.  

“Oh honey... I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. We didn’t know you were gonna be that little. I’m sorry we didn’t ask permission first, we weren’t thinking. I promise, promise,” he pulled back so Anxiety could see his eyes, tears spilling down his own cheeks, “that I will physically fight anyone who suggests we do that again, who even dares to mention putting you in a cage. I nearly did fight Roman, Logan had to hold me back.” That gets a weak laugh out of Anxiety, imagining Logan holding back a kicking and spitting furious Patton. “I love you, kiddo. I really, really do, and if anyone has a problem with that, has a problem with you, they’ll have to go through me first.” Patton’s voice is fierce, and he doesn’t have to look at Dee to know that he isn’t lying.  

“T-thomas-”  

“Is worried about you, kiddo. I came to check on you cause he wanted to make sure you were gonna be ok. What you said... really, really scared us, but we didn’t wanna summon you, because we knew you probably didn’t want to be summoned. He’s sorry, too. We all are.”  

“Even Roman?” He asks, bitterness in his voice. Patton hesitates, sighing.  

“I don’t know. I think... I think he’s sorry he got yelled at, sorry he got in trouble, sorry we didn’t agree with him. But I don’t think he’s sorry for what he actually did to you, said to you. Which makes me angry, because he should be sorry, but he isn’t, and if he isn’t, I can’t change that. What I can do is make sure you are going to be alright. I can learn what else we shouldn’t do without asking your permission. I can be better at speaking up when Roman threatens or takes jabs at you, and eventually, hopefully, his attitude will change as he learns none of us are going to enable him anymore. I’m sorry it went this far.” He blinks, surprised. He didn’t expect Patton to acknowledge Roman’s inability to see his own wrongdoings. He didn’t expect Patton to admit to his own shortcomings. He didn’t expect Patton to be... honest.  

“What would you like us to do for now, Anxiety? Clearly, you have two people who love you very much helping your right now, so I feel ok leaving, if you like. I just didn’t want you to be alone, when you were so upset. Thomas... all of us, want to speak with you about what happened, to try and make ammends, but we’ll do that on your terms, so there’s no rush. Just, whenever you’re ready to talk, we’re ready to listen.  If you like, I can bring you meals, if you don’t wanna leave your room for a while. I wanna keep you healthy, and I know if I leave you to your own devices it’ll be chips and soda for every meal.” He lets out a little snort at that, because Patton is right, of course, and he’s already calmed down so much because Patton is being so nice, and he knows Dee would have told him if Patton had lied.  

“that all sounds good, yeah.” He mumbles, shifting out of Patton’s hug, pulling his knees to his chest once again.  

“ok. Is there anything else you need, or would like me to do?” He bites his lip, thinking.  

“Just... just let them know I’m ok? If they’re really that worried about me.” Patton squeezes his non injured shoulder once as he stands, smiling gently.  

“Will do, kiddo. If you ever need anything, or just want some company, don’t be afraid to call me up.”  

“I... might.” Patton smiles again, soft and warm.  

“I love you, Anxiety.” Patton turns away, but before he sinks out, Virgil steels his courage.  

“Virgil!” He shouts, and the room seems to freeze. Remus is staring at him in wide eyed surprise. Deceit has stopped rubbing his back, and Patton falters mid step, before turning to face him, something akin to awe on his face. “That’s... my name. My name is Virgil.” A huge smile blooms across Patton’s face, his eyes light up with tender joy, and he sniffles, wiping away tears.  

“Virgil. I think that’s a lovely name, Virgil. I know I'm usually a blabber mouth, but it when it counts, I can keep a secret.” Patton winks, sending a smile flashing across his own face as warmth blooms in his chest. With a wave, Patton sinks out, and he collapses back against Deceit with a long, low sigh.  

“You sure about that, Virg?” Remus asks, from where he’s leaning against the wall, having simply observed everything.  

“yeah. Yeah I... think I am.” He feels Dee press another soft kiss to the top of his head.  

“Proud of you, lovely.” He smiles, closing his eyes as he feels Remus settle on the other side of him. He is still scared and afraid and knows the nightmares won’t leave him alone for ages, now. But he also knows that at least Patton is on his side. And Patton is almost more of a mama bear than Deceit. If the two of them are looking out for him, he knows nothing will hurt him like this ever again.

[angelicalchaoticabyss]

Until Day Breaks

Dead leaves flowed in the chilly wind; the valley filled the sounds of arguing.

That’s all it’s been all day. Just arguing about one thing or another, that’s just how things were between the cookie and the dragon. Ananas Dragon Cookie was many things, greedy, prideful, arrogant, rude, had a massive god-complex, the list goes on. They were BEYOND unhappy when they were assigned their “Relay partner” Strawberry Tart Cookie. A cookie for a relay partner?! Are those mortals assuming that they’ll need a COOKIE to help them? Hrrmph, she’s lucky to be in their presence…but this girl…she’s just so….

Sassy! Aggravating! Enchanting- wait no!

The attitude this insolent cookie has! They’ve never felt so disrespected before! She questioned, fought, and argued with every decision they made! Every time they were made to work together it was always something!

“We should camp for the night.” She stated.

“No, we’rrre moving forrrwarrrd.” Ananas Replied.

Strawberry Tart’s expression hardened a little “No, we should camp here for the night. I know this area; the temperature drops severely when the sun does this time of year and I don’t think your lizard brain is all to a fan of the cold.”

Ananas didn’t bother hiding their snarl but she was unfortunately correct. Their kind didn’t do well in the cold unless one had ice related abilities, even that failure of a dragon Pitaya had their limits. Their face twisted with anger as their pride didn’t want to give in, but the logic of the situation eventually won over.

“Very well little cookie, but only because I know YOU wouldn’t be able to handle it.” They retorted, a tad bit defensively to which the girl rolled her eyes at their attempt to save face.

Taking cover in a small cave the two beings stared at the fire created as what Strawberry Tart said came true. Even with the flames providing warmth Ananas still shivered and appeared to be a bit more huddled than normal. Red eyes gazing at them the mighty dragon remained separate from her, they REFUSE to accept her help of any kind!

“In the name of the Baker will you shut off your pride for one damn moment? If you’re cold just come closer.”

“WHAT?! Neverrr! As if I would everrr degrrrade myself and get close to a lowly creaturrre such as yourrrself!” They growled aggressively, that’s it, she’s had enough.

The next thing Ananas knew she grabbed them by the winged crest and pulled hard, they were about to snap at her before she interrupted.

“Listen here, I’ve had enough of this! Ever since I got assigned to being your relay it’s been NOTHING but hell! You think you know better just because you’re a dragon, you don’t listen to stuff I KNOW ABOUT and insist you’re right! Look at us right now! The one time you actually listened to me benefited us! If we had kept going BOTH of us would’ve been frozen berries right about now! I’ve endured this for as long as I was able, I’ve been TRYING to be cooperative and help you but you dig your heels in more than me!!”

Ananas snarled “How DARRRE you-“ They were cut off again.

“No! How about YOU get off your high horse for FIVE MINUTES and accept that you’ve needed my help! Cause the MOMENT this mission is over and we’re back at the guild I’m switching partners! If I wanted to deal with an angry piece of sugar all day I would’ve teamed with Purple Yam Cookie! So, hush up and stay near me if you want to be warmer! Or don’t, honestly, I don’t care anymore!”

With that, the rant ended and she let go of them. Ananas was in stunned silence, she…she just talked to THEM like that. The Great Golden Dragon, they WANTED to tear her throat out for such audacity but they just…couldn’t. She just…fully took control, exerted her own power over them like it was nothing and they couldn’t do anything. Their eyes wide, mouth slightly agape before closing it.

The cookies had stopped looking at them but her ears didn’t miss the sound of the scaley beast scooching closer. She felt their presence loom over her side but she didn’t meet their eyes again, no point, she said what she needed to say. Both cookie and dragon remained silent but there seemed to be SOME communication in the quiet. As it got late Strawberry Tart Cookie laid on the softer materials that was packed for this job, as she was nodding off, she felt a warmness envelope her. Scaley arms wrapped her smaller body in a surprisingly gentle embrace as she realized Ananas was…cuddling her?

“What are you-?”

“Hush. Don’t think deeply into this cookie, I am only blessing you with my hold because of the chill.” They insisted.

Truly, Strawberry Tart didn’t have the energy to argue…and it DID feel a little nice. It was quiet aside from the crackle of wood and howling of the wind. Not a single word uttered from the two, but neither seemed to be trying for sleep. The girl simply couldn’t sleep, neither could the dragon, the situation just felt…interesting.

A clawed hand moved lower to her belly and pulled her closer, a thick tail also finding its way to wrap around her. Ananas thanked the great flames she wasn’t facing them, because even they themselves didn’t want to acknowledge the light-yellow blush that had dusted their cheeks. They…never wanted to admit that such an audacious cookie had…found her way…perhaps a bit closer to their heart than others.

They didn’t want to admit that what she yelled at them actually hurt with the burning truth behind her words. They didn’t want to acknowledge the fear that she’d replace them and become another’s relay partner. They gulped, swallowing down all of their pride and said just two words.

-

When the sun came up, Strawberry Tart was the first to pack up and actually had to shake Ananas awake. Surprisingly, they didn’t bite back with venom filled words but just the typical glare you’d expect to see on a kid when waking them on a Saturday morning. With the usual huff and slight strut in their step the duo headed off.

There was no arguing this time, just the silence that remained from last night. Hesitantly, Ananas reached and held her hand with their free one. She gave them a slightly incredulous look.

“Don’t think into it, this is simply to keep you frrrom getting lost little cookie.” They said with a slight growl, but their eyes remained averted in almost a shy manner.

Strawberry Tart sighed but held their hand in return.

 “Whatever.”