#i am nothing that wears a human costume

[calanthe-d]

Quick sketch I did at work (I'm welln't)

Might make it a proper drawing some day, I just had to get it out of my system, it has been in my head for days now.

[that-spider-fan-over-there]

Something about Izuku I keep thinking about is how much he's a downright hypocrite and the only reason he isn't called out on it is because he's one for himself and not for others and at the core of it all it boils down to his pending childhood issues and the *vaguely gestures* "relationship" he and Katsuki have- I mean, just out of the top of my head:

Wants to be a strong and dependable hero but is at his weakest when he's alone.

Says to Himiko he would never hurt someone he loves but was the reason Katsuki was forced to dance with death until his own sacrifice. Hell, I'm expecting him to actually accidentally hurt Katsuki (Physically? Emotionally? You decide) next time they talk.

Wants to save people with a smile but barely cracked genuine ones during his battle with Tenko- I can think of two(?), and even then those felt more like a resignation (379 and 412 iirc) than actual smiles.

Being aware Kacchan's a jackass, fine, but the entire "Imitate the people you love/admire" themes, having an attitude when heated or absolutely Done with anyone's BS (makes sense for someone who grew up besides a kid in the Inferiority-Superiority Complex but still) and "This is a battle between All For One and One For All, you can't keep up" is still very much pot calling the kettle black (it's because his "arrogance" is rooted in selflessness and desire to be useful but that's for another day)

Deadass called All For One out for being a lonely man pretending to be a "Demon Lord" yet will not admit he himself thinks a he's just a lonely kid pretending to be a hero; and by the time he seemed to be growing out of it: Paranormal Liberation Front.

"IT'S YOUR POWER, ISN'T IT?!" Cool, nice of him to comfort Shoto and try the same with Touya, now if only he could do the same in regards to himself and OFA-

Wasn't able to connect with Tenko at all and that's why he failed but it's wild to me he'd still the one who even at surface level could relate to):

Spinner, because they're nerds who were ostracized based on Quirks/lack thereof looking for a purpose and were unable to help him because of AFO's interference;

Himiko, because they want to be like others (because they hate themselves at least a little bit) but also show love in a way others wouldn't accept and;

Touya, because they wanted to prove they could be useful to others and be heroes to the point of actively harmed themselves while using their own Quirk.

Hell, when you think about it he related to the crying child but he could've used Literally Anything from his relationship with Katsuki to try and reach Tenko, but of course he didn't, that means he'd have to think about his own issues and yet he saw Tenko's issues no wonder he didn't get the job done-

Also can we talk about him saying he relates to Ochako confronting Himiko but she actually succeeded- Or even Shoto wanting to forgive Endeavor; I keep recalling both Ch. 322 him saying he won't forgive Tenko for anything he did (understandable but still) and Tenko going "And I won't forgive anyone". Connecting these three instances are huge stretches, I know, but really, he hasn't addressed the apology he got- combined narrative punishments for empty platitudes.

Kept saying he needed to improve in his control with OFA: had to get beaten up during his internship and in the Summer Camp for that lesson to stick... Then he heard the words "Control Your Heart" and decided to Not Address It At All.

Supposed to surpass but he's really All Might's successor in every way that counts: Smile so nobody will worry, keep fighting even though you are destroying yourself, be so selfless you'll make your friends desperate enough to make you stop for your own good, hide every single thing you can about yourself, the only difference is in the bed they made: Toshinori lies in omission most of the time, and Izuku thinks he lies in white when almost every other character's in the dark, but as long as there's a dream of bright smiles in the future, who cares they're now forcefully entangled in this nightmare, right?

And these are just the examples I can think of the top of my head, there might be more, but. No wonder we've been "panicking" (let's be real his therapist already scheduled him for Ground Beta atp-) Shoto and Ochako brushed him off by accident in Chapter 425, it's the consequences of his hypocritical ass coming back to bite him-

(I am not hating on him, by the way, it's just something about him I wanted to point out. I like that aspect of his. Makes him more human. But jeez can someone call him out and make him practice what he preaches? XD)

[bakugoushotwife]

in my opinion, gojo’s storyline has been handled so so poorly i can’t help but think it’s intentional. it is not bad writing to kill a character—even a beloved character. i know most people will dismiss my criticisms because gojo is so beloved to me and so many others. i’ve said before that i don’t mind if he died. does it hurt? of course, and i would still cry and be sad about it. but there is a beautiful way to do it. with respect and honor for his legacy—for what he has done for your manga, the characters in it, and audiences worldwide. but no…gege chose the path of horror and disrespect. at certain points i’d say to myself, well. this is a dark manga. but essentially gojo is the only character that receives this treatment. since the beginning—since suguru left him, he’s been wondering if he mattered because he was a person, or if he only mattered because he was powerful and useable. we certainly fucking answered that question. he is a weapon and nobody ever cared about him at all!!!

and we knew he was being used—he knew he was being used, but he is selfless. so he did it for his kids. for megumi and yuuji and yuuta—he wanted them to be safe. in these flashbacks it’s exceedingly clear that he knew he would die. again—that’s not my issue. gojo dying to sukuna makes plenty of sense and it would hurt to leave it there. but to give us an afterlife scene where he’s presented a choice—north and south—that concept lead nowhere, that’s truly fucked up. to leave all the subtle clues and hints for no reason but to keep people reading and theorizing his return is fucked up. to continue to use his imagery to promote your manga when you know he’s not even honored in your manga is fucked up. we don’t get a funeral or a grave for him. no one’s spoken about him in chapters despite him fighting for hours against sukuna and damaging him so much that yuuji could win, nothing. yuuta wearing him like a costume and no one is horrified about it. i thought his students WERE different. they weren’t jujutsu society yet. that’s why gojo was their teacher—shaping them into better human beings. how am i supposed to trust in their future when it seems they’re just as cold and heartless as everyone before them? no one has honored gojo in any way since the moment he died. and they’ve forgotten about him. he spent his entire life fighting and no one can even say thank you. gege intentionally used gojo to promote the end of his manga because he knows that gojo fans make up at least half of his fanbase so had we stopped reading when he died, he would have lost a lot of traction. he baited us intentionally, cruelly, and something that transcends storytelling. i’ve truly never seen a mangaka have this sort of vitriol for one of their characters and the people that love him.

we spent the entire last chapter talking about some random fucking mission when we have several unanswered questions and concerns. i thought gege said he wanted this ending to be shocking and something you didn’t see in shonen? tying everything up neatly where no one has any trauma or grief for what they’ve experienced, everyone comes back to life except the one character you hate specifically and choso, defying your own power structures and having everyone laughing into the sunset is exactly how shonen ends so what in the fuck is he talking about??

let me disclaim, this is not megumi hate at all. i love him very much and i am so happy he’s back with the group but like. he shouldn’t be able to even walk. he tanked unlimited void for over 6 minutes whenever that length caused irreversible damage to sukuna himself. not to mention the countless black flashes. so what the fuck? he doesn’t mention gojo at all?? the first time he laughs in this manga is after he reads a note written by his dead fucking caretaker about his dead fucking father? like i don’t believe. random open ended kenjaku/suguru mention just to piss me off, an absolutely no mention of gojos sacrifice or how they’ll miss him. i’m sick to my stomach. gege defiled his memory both in the story and outside of it. wow.

P.S. SUKUNA CARED MORE ABOUT GOJO THAN ANYONE ELSE (SUGURU IS NOT INCLUDED IN THIS I MEAN HIS STUDENTS AND SOCIETY)

[obeymeshallwedateaddict]

Devildom 'I love you' day

Imagine if there was a day in the Devildom where all demons had to show affection in one way or another. How would the brothers do it? How would the brothers express their undying love for you?

Contains: Fluff

GN!MC (Reader)

You can find more of my work here: Masterlist

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Lucifer

You heard a knock on the door which woke you up. It was early in the morning and you had gone to bed late last night since you were playing games with Levi. So waking up early in the morning wasn't how you were planning to start the day. You sit up in the bed and groggily answer "Yeah?" You hear the door open while you rub your eyes.

-MC? Did I wake you? –You look over at the demon with fuzzy eyes. It was Lucifer. The raven-haired, red eyed, arrogant Avatar of Pride had come to wake you. You assumed that it is something important since he isn't the one to come wake you up. But then you saw a beautiful bouquet of flowers in his arms. And on top of that he was wearing formal attire. You rub your eyes once again to make sure you are seeing this properly and yes you were. The first-born was standing before you with a bouquet of flowers, wearing a costume! And the flowers were your favourite ones. Have you ever even told him you liked those?

-Uhm, Lucifer? What are these for? –You ask and look up to meet his eyes. His gaze was soft and loving.

-Today is the Devildom 'I love you' day. Every year on this day people have to show affection towards their loved ones. So here I am, MC. –He takes a deep breath and gets on one knee offering the bouquet to you.

-MC, I know I may not show it as often but you mean everything to me. I love you more than words can even begin to explain. And I promise you. I'm not doing this just because it's the Devildom 'I love you' day. –You swear you could feel your cheeks heat up and you probably have the biggest idiotic smile on your face you nod and take the bouquet from his arms. You bring it to your nose and the sweet scent of the flowers floods your nostrils. You close your eyes and inhale it.

-Thank you, Lucifer. They are lovely.. I love you too.. –You say as the demon sits next to you in the bed.

-I have planned many things for us today. I promise to make this day unforgettable. But before we start I have something else I'd like to do. –With those words the first-born grasps your chin and kisses you passionately. Your breaths mingle together while your lips dance in a heated rhythm. When the kiss ends you embrace him and inhale his scent. It was your favourite perfume. It was obvious that the day would be a success. After all it was planned by no other than the Avatar of Pride himself.

Mammon

You were walking down the hallway of RAD. It was in the middle of the school day so you still had a few hours left to go. The day was overall nice. Nothing too hard nor too boring. It was a pretty decent day. And then suddenly you hear someone shouting your name from the end of the hallway.

-Yo, MC? Wait up! –You turn around and look at the white-haired second-born run up to you. You wait for him to catch up while eying him with a questioning look.

-What's up, Mammon? –You ask as the demon reaches you. He puts his hands on his knees and pants. When he finally manages to catch his breath he looks over at you.

-MC, I bought ya something! –He says and pulls out two matching keychains from his pocket.

-Mammon, what are these for? –You ask and carefully observe the keychains.

-Let The Mammon explain. So I heard some bullshit that today is some Devildom blah blah 'I love you' day. And eh The Great Mammon just wanted to show you some love, human! –You chuckle and roll your eyes. Though you can't help but feel a bit flustered at the demon's determination.

-So hear me out! Cuz I'm gonna say this only once. MC, I love ya. –He hands you one of the keychains, looking into your eyes.

-I worked hard for these keychains ya know? So you better wear it every day. Cuz I am! And I wanna match! –You smile at Mammon's little demand and nod.

-Alright.. I'll wear it, Mammon –You see a big smile draw on his expression and you smile back at him.

-I love you too, Mammon. –You lean in and press a soft kiss to the demon's lips and he gasps.

-Yo, human! What's the big idea?! –He asks and you wrap your arms around his waist in an embrace. You can practically feel how the second-born rolls his eyes which almost makes you laugh.

-Fine. The Mammon will show ya some affection. Don't get used to it though. It's just for today. –You decide not to argue with his little statement but you knew it was a lie. Afterwards you and Mammon spend a great day, filled with kisses, hugs, holding hands and most importantly –love.

Leviathan

It was a regular day. You were painting your nails with Asmo in the living room when suddenly you got a message on your D.D.D. since your nail polish was still wet you asked the fifth-born to read it to you. You saw him tense up as he read the message.

-It's from Levi. He says he wants to play games and is inviting you to his room. Should I write to him that you are busy at the moment? –Asmo asks and you nod.

-Yeah. You might as well. I will talk to him later. I'll have to wait for the nail polish to dry out. –The eyes of the demon before you brighten and he nods, typing a few words on your phone before leaving it on the table.

-Okay! Let me put another layer of nail polish on you! –Asmodeus says and reaches for the nail polish but your phone buzzes again. Asmo leans over and reads it.

-Levi said that he has something important. Eh.. can't he wait? –Asmo whines and shakes his head. You think over it carefully before speaking up.

-If it's something important I must see what's up. I'll speak to you later, Asmo! –You say, grabbing your phone and turning to leave.

-You are seriously leaving for that boring otaku? And leaving the nail polish? MC, you are so bad! –You chuckle at the fifth-born's words and head for Levi's room. You knock on the door and prepare to say the secret phrase but to your surprise Leviathan just opens the door for you straight away. You greet him and enter the room.

-So, Levi what's up? –You notice a small blush on his face and wonder whether to question it or not but the demon speaks up before you do.

-So uhm MC.. I h-heard that today is.. uhm Devildom 'I love you' day and uhm.. I wanted to give you this as a token of my feelings.. –He stammers out before handing you a figurine of both of you's favourite anime. Your eyes widen and you take it eagerly. Thank you Levi!

-Y-yeah... No problem.. know that.. uhm.. I.. I l-love you.. okay? –the third-born speaks and you nod.

-Yes, I know.. and I love you too, Levi! A lot. –The demon's cheeks heat up in a pinkish color and you chuckle to yourself before leaning in a pressing na soft kiss to Levi's lips.

-Wh-what are you??? –He questions but you silence him.

-Let's make the best of today. –You state and hug the purple haired demon, wrapping your arms around his neck. He only nods. You and Levi proceed to have a nice day filled with love.

Satan

You were sitting in the living room, scrolling through your phone in the company of Mammon, Asmo and Beel. The three of them were doing their own thing. Mammon was counting money, which resulted in a silent "one hundred to thirty-two" for example. It wasn't often but it happened from time to time. Asmo was reading a beauty magazine. He looked almost lost in it. Like he wouldn't be able to move his gaze away from it while Beel was eating a pizza and a devil burger at once. At once.. oh and he was drinking soda along with it too. That demon is impossible. Suddenly you get a call which draws everyone's attention to your phone. You grab your phone and check the ID to see that the Avatar of Wrath was calling you. You pick up and your first words draw frustration in everyone in the room.

-Yeah, Satan? What's up? –You speak and wait for him to answer.

-I want to speak to you. It's important. Could you come to my room for a bit? –He asked, hanging up before you could respond, leaving you with little choice but to make your way to his room. Standing up from the couch you walk to the fourth-born's room. You knock on the door and soon enough you receive a firm. "Come in, MC" from the other side. By walking in you could smell the faint scent of Satan's perfume. He was wearing a formal attire with a book and a rose in hand. You shot him a questioning gaze and he chuckles.

-Oh MC. Why are you looking at me like that? Don't you know what today is? –The demon asks and you shake your head.

-No, not really.

-Let me enlighten you then. Today is the Devildom's 'I love you' day. People on this day show their love and appreciation towards their partner. And I would like to do the same. –He offers you the book and the rose, by taking it you feel that the thorns have been cut. For as long as you can remember you'd always poke your finger into a thorn. But not today. Supposedly Satan thought about that as well and clipped out the thorns. The book was one that you have been wanting to get for ages but never got spare money to do so. You look over at Satan and smile. -Oh my gosh! Thank you, Satan! That means so much... –You speak and see a faint blush cover the demon's cheek.

-You flatter me, MC. And here I thought that today was the day I got to pamper you. But let me tell you. I love you, MC. More than words or any book can express. –He says and takes your hand. You look at his eyes and feel the sincere love he feels for you.

-I love you too, Satan. –You smile and lean in to press a soft kiss to the demon's lips. Afterwards you and Satan share a nice and romantic day together.

Asmodeus

You were helping Lucifer run some errands around RAD and it was honestly tiring. The man himself seemed exhausted and was barely holding up considering he is one of the most powerful demons in the Devildom. So what's left for a human like you? You felt like you could collapse any minute now. And then all of a sudden you get a call from Asmodeus, the fifth-born. You answer and continue trying to catch up to Lucifer.

-Yeah? Asmo, what's up? –You ask and continue walking.

-MC, sweetheart... I've got something for you. Meet me in the cafeteria. –He speaks up and you watch Lucifer walk faster and faster into the distance.

-Sorry, Asmo. I'm kind of busy right now. Heyyy! Lucifer, wait up! –You call out for the eldest who didn't seem to hear your words.

-Lucifer! –You try one more time but it was also unsuccessful. The demon was lost in his own world. Meanwhile Asmodeus was giggling on the other side of the phone.

-MC, Lucy won't notice if you slip away. As I see he isn't even answering you. –You stop in your tracks and think about the fifth-born's statement. Perhaps he was right. But Lucifer would be pissed if you left him like that. Though do you care? You've gone through his punishments millions of times. It's not as if you cannot do it again. So there you were. Making yet again another poor life choice which you'll be scolded for.

-I'll be right there. –You say to the speaker and hang up the phone, heading to the cafeteria, instead of running after the lost in thought Avatar of Pride. Not long after you finally reach the cafeteria. When you opened the door you heard Asmodeus shout.

-Happy I love you day, sweetheart! –The fifth-born speaks and throws heart-shaped confetti your way. You chuckle and look over at Asmodeus.

-Thanks, Asmo. This is awesome! –You speak with the biggest smirk on your face. Asmodeus on the other hand claps his hands before walking up to you, wrapping his arms around you.

-I love you, MC. So so so so SO much! <3 –He speaks up and leans down, capturing your lips in a loving, yet passionate kiss. It lasted for a couple of minutes and when you finally pulled away, you whispered into the demon's ear.

-I love you too, Asmo. –The day you and the Avatar of Lust shared was irreplaceable.

Beelzebub

You were in your room, quietly scrolling on your phone. The day was pretty decent. You had a few errands you had to run but it wasn't something hard to do. And now that everything was done you had some free time left to do whatever you want. That's when suddenly Beelzebub the sixth-born barged in through the door. You looked at him with a questioning gaze. You didn't expect visitors. Or so you thought. After all your room is a public place and free to use for certain 7 demon brothers.

-Hey, Beel. You need something? –You ask and look over at the orange-haired demon before you. He had a hopeful look in his eyes. It felt like he was expecting something from you. Though you weren't sure what. Was there something you have forgotten? An outing with the twins? Or to make Beel his favourite demon sandwich? You weren't sure exactly why the sixth oldest would come into the room just like that.

-Yeah, MC. I heard from Lucifer that today is a Devildom 'I love you' day. And I wanted to show you how much I actually love you. To use the day as an opportunity. –The demon says and falls into complete silence before looking out the window.

-Well evening.. not day.. but.. will you spend it with me, MC? –The demon asks and you nod your head.

-Gladly, Beel! Let's go.. –You stand up and take the sixth-born's hand, leading him outside your bedroom.

Soon enough you and Beelzebub find yourselves in Hell's kitchen, waiting for your order. The sixth-born takes your hand, making you look into his eyes. You saw that same loving, yet innocent gaze he had. One of the many reasons you loved Beelzebub.

-MC, I want you to know how special you are to me. And how much I love you. –The demon speaks up while caressing your knuckles.

-I love you too, Beel. You are also really special to me. –You say and lean in, closing your eyes and gently pressing your lips to those of the Avatar of Gluttony. He smiled against your lips while they intertwined in a passionate dance. You and Beel proceed to share a nice dinner at Hell's kitchen.

Belphegor

It was a regular morning. You and the brothers had just shared breakfast though you cannot deny how wild it actually was. Mammon and Satan argued the whole time about the ingredients in the Devildom hell sauce. Asmodeus was painting Beel's nails while Lucifer was lecturing Leviathan for using his phone during breakfast. That was pretty much a regular morning at this point. And if it was peaceful you'd know that there is a problem. Suddenly the first-born finishes scolding Levi and turns to you.

-MC, could you wake up Belphie for me? I don't want him to be late to a meeting once again. –You listen to the raven-haired demon's words and nod before excusing yourself from the table. You walk over to the twin's room and knock on the door. When you didn't receive an answer you walked in. To your surprise though the Avatar of Sloth wasn't sleeping like he usually would. Instead he was sitting on the bed, wearing his school uniform. In his hand he was holding a little jewellery box. Playing with it and moving it from one hand to the other.

-Good morning, Belphie. Why aren't you at breakfast? –The demon turns his gaze to you and smiles. It seemed like his mood immediately shifted when he noticed you.

-MC! There you are! I was waiting for you. –He stood up and walked over to you.

-Waiting for me? I don't remember you asking me to meet you? –You question and the demon chuckles.

-I didn't call you over because I knew Lucifer would send you to wake me up at some point. But anyway. I have a little surprise for you. –Belphie says and opens the box, offering it to you. Inside there are two necklaces. Matching ones. The first one was formed like a moon and the other one was like a little sun.

-Happy Devildom 'I love you' day, MC. This is a little something I bought to show you how I feel. They are matching necklaces. One is for me and the other is for you. –He speaks up and reaches for the sun-shaped necklace. He wrapped it around your neck and clipped it.

-It suits you perfectly. Would you mind putting mine on? –The seventh-born asks and you nod. Taking the moon necklace you wrap it around the demon's neck and clip it up. And there you were. Wearing matching necklaces with Belphegor. You smiled and pulled Belphie into a hug. Wrapping his arms around you he leaned down and whispered into your ear.

-I love you, MC. –And with that he proceeds to capture your lips in a loving kiss. You were in a great mood for the rest of the day. Toying with the little necklace when you missed the youngest brother in class.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Squeaky Clean 5

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: You start work as a maid but you’re not prepared for the mess your client brings with him. (maid AU – plus!reader)

Note: damn, boy.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“So, if you terminate contract without two weeks’ notice, terms state you owe the agency an admin fee.” Jan explains over the phone. 

You sit in your car with her on speaker, idling behind the store, shellshocked.  

“How much?” You ask. 

“Based on how long you’ve been with us, four-fifty.” 

“That-- four hundred and fifty? That’s a week’s pay,” you exclaim. 

“Yes, well, we’d have to overextend other staff and then there would be training and recruiting. Seeing as you’ve not completed your probation period, we would be taking a loss.” 

“A loss? I’d still work, just for another client.” 

“There’s a lot of cleaners with seniority, they get preference. I’m sorry, but those are your options,” she says. She has no compassion, it’s all just money to her. 

You stare at the brick wall ahead of your car. Never mind about going inside. You’ll make your boxed macaroni with water tonight. Maybe as you scroll the job boards. If you get something quick, you’ll be able to cover the fee. 

Or. 

Or... 

Or you’ll have to face him again. 

You grip the wheel tight. It isn’t even your car. The fee comes out of your pay too. This whole thing is a grift. You lean forward and rest your head on the vinyl ridges. 

You see him, standing in front of the door, in his body armour and helmet. A man who could snap you like a twig. You exhale with a quake and roll your eyes back against the swell of heat. You have no choice. Not unless a miracle comes and you don’t believe in those. 

You drive home. Your apartment is small. Especially compared to his townhouse. How rotten. Look at you. Living at the bare minimum, living off his scraps based on how well you clean his floors. It’s not fair. And he can just do whatever he wants. Because what, because he wears that costume? 

You’re not hungry. You scroll through job boards. It’s all this bullshit AI training. You know it’s garbage. $100 an hour, yeah, you’re sure it will hit your bank account smoothly. Oh and Jan didn’t miss the non-compete clause. If you quit, you can work for another cleaning agency or even freelance for at least a year. 

Sleep is fractured by your anxiety. Every time you close your eyes, he’s there. Each time you move, you feel his hands on you. Your skin crawls and your insides burn. Why? Why you? Would it be the same if it was anyone else who’d taken that job? 

You stare at the ceiling as the sun rises outside your window. As the light shifts, your nerves flurry. You don’t want to get up. You don’t want to go back. 

You flinch as a soft click comes from the kitchen. There’s a length of wall between the rest of your apartment and it. A bachelor with nothing more than a clunky radiator and scratched floorboards. Another click and the grind of the coffee machine. 

You sit up, chest thumping furiously. You’re dreaming. Your frail human condition finally forced you into submission. It’s a nightmare. It has to be. You're sure of it as he appears from behind the wall, leaning on the plaster with smirk. 

Steve’s hair is slightly askew. His cowl is gone but the rest of his suit is still in place. All but his gloves, tucked into his belt. 

“You know, I was always taught not to give up. Why do you think I am who I am,” he grips his hips as he pushes away from the wall and approaches you with decisive steps. “You don’t just roll over and let the world win.” 

You blink. It’s not a dream. You’ve never felt anything more real. 

“When you get a no, you don’t stop until you hear yes,” he stops at the foot of your bed, “or until they can’t say anything.” 

“Steve,” you bend your legs and push yourself back against the metal headboard. “What...” 

“You know, it’s funny. They didn’t tell me all the side effects.” He turns and sits on the side of the bed. “Nope. They said ‘it’ll make you strong. And big.’ That’s about all they told me,” he bends his leg and brings his foot onto his knee. He unlaces his boots, the ends of the laces snapping on the leather. “They don’t tell you how much you can hear. How much you can feel. Or not feel.” 

He scoffs and shakes his head, “either they didn’t care or they didn’t know. I can’t say which is worse.” He wiggles the boot off and switches boots. “Don’t tell you that your body turns into this callous shell. The caffeine in a cup of coffee does nothing. Nope. You’re body’s on overdrive. You get nothing. You only give.” 

He rips his other boot off and drops it. He sighs and leans forward, his elbows on his thighs as he bends his head. He smooths his blond hair. 

“I can hear through a car. Even from a block away. Even through the brick wall. And I can hear your heart beating from ground level,” he sniffs and rolls his shoulders, holding his head. “I can hear it right now too.” 

You’re silent. Paralysed. It’s all a game to him. He’s been following, watching. Even if the thought crossed your mind, you wouldn’t have caught him. He shows himself when he wants to be seen. Exactly as he does at his place. 

“I just want to feel one fucking thing that makes me feel alive,” he sits up. 

You stare at him. He slowly looks over his shoulder and meets your gaze. “I put the coffee on. Your head’s throbbing. Migraine. The cells in your brain are compressed. Lack of seratonin due to lack of sleep.” 

Your mouth falls open. He can tell all that. No, another job was never an option. Quitting, like he says, isn’t a choice. Why doesn’t matter. Why is a stupid question. Why won’t change what is about to happen. 

“Have a cup, take a shower, relax,” he commands. “I want you to feel it too.” 

[rockatanskette]

So, I've written before about how our relationship with predators would probably intimidate aliens, but I just pictured another way we interact with predators that is honestly just as scary from an outside perspective: we pretend to be predators and even make up new ones, all just for fun.

Now, we also adopt predator patterns for utility: wearing striped makeup for camouflage, imitating roars and bird calls, etc. But I'm specifically talking about the video I just saw from Creature Bionics of creature rigs designed for a human actor to better do motion capture. I'm talking about voice actors and sound designers creating new and terrifying clicks and roars and growls because lions' roars just aren't scary enough. I'm talking about adults dressing up as plush monstrosities to entertain sports fans and children. Gritty is terrifying, objectively.

One day at an early meal, human Janet seems confused when her alien crewmates start asking about a shape-shifting monster that they keep seeing in human culture. They ask her what it's like to live on a world with "dogjons;" animals that can shift from a fan-headed creature with eye-covered wings to an amphibious eel-like figure, humanoid but not human, to a death-pale monstrosity that chases anyone who dares get near its food. Human Janet is confused until they say that the pale figure has eyes in its hands; bloodshot, and glassy.

"Oh, Doug Jones! No, he's not a monster, he's just a really good actor. Too good—the Shape of Water awakened something in me, specifically."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, let's just say the lady 'mating' with him isn't a horror story, it's a fantasy." Human Janet says, like it's nothing. Then something seems to occur to her, and her eyes brighten with what the aliens are quickly learning is mischief. "Oh my god. Am I the one who gets to explain monster fucking?"

Elsewhere, an alien accompanies xis human friend on a day out with their young. There's some kind of show being put on for human youth and Xlibthar is excited for this insight into how humans get Like That. Imagine xis surprise when the lights go up on the entertainment platform and a horde of creatures rushes up. They are large and bright yellow, with big black eyes as dark as singularities, with bright red spots on their heads that clearly indicate venom. Xlibthar shrieks and shields xisself behind Akio and Hinata, sure that something has gone terribly wrong.

"What are those?!" Xlibthar demands, quaking in xis shoes.

"Those? Oh, they're just Pikachus." Akio does not seem even the slightest bit distressed, and five-year-old Hinata is absolutely losing her mind with excitement at the sight of these garish monstrosities.

"What. On Earth." Because this could only happen on Earth. "Is a Pikachu?"

"It's a Pocket Monster. It's a series about monsters that battle with each-other. Pikachu is a mouse that can shoot electricity out of its body."

Xlibthar stares at Akio, wondering if this is an example of what humans call "gaslighting," because keeping monsters in your pockets sounds too insane even for humans. And, "you bring these things around your CHILDREN??"

"I mean, they're not real." Akio puts his hands over Hinata's ears. "They're just people in costumes. Though Nintendo would never let you see one with its head off."

Xlibthar has many questions: why? What? How? What? But one question has been answered: if this is what entertains human youth, it is exactly why Humans are Like That.

[sashi-ya]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ エロチックトバー２０２４> MDNI / EXPLICIT CONTENT

THAT LITTLE FOX 🦊 SOSHIRO HOSHINA X F! READER ＫINKTOBER DAY 2: MONSTER FORM // KITSUNE

🐙 requested by: anonymous. About your kinktober event, I'm not sure if I read your rules properly soo.. Can I have a request for Hoshina from kn8? (With female reader). Day 2, I'm not sure if Kitsune counts as a monster form? But feel free to decline! :D ⚠️ tw: mdni. explicit content. sex with a "stranger creature" in the middle of a forest. nipple biting, hard sex. unprotected sex. 🐙 wc: 1,9k // kinktober 24 masterlist // join the taglist

A funny fox, a sly fox a very naughty …

Infamous for a droll laughter, that creature living in the ghost city is. He plays tricks on people, he is fast and very, very strong. A sharp smirk, with keen fangs, makes everybody a little annoyed and scared. His status, high. Nobody dares to say no to him, whimsical with food and sex, everything is served to him.

“I’m feeling like paying a visit to the human world today” he chuckles, eating a sweet dessert with his kimono almost open.

“Are you sure Master Hoshina? Remember humans are weaker, by far more innocent, and above all… mortal” his assistant, maid, Okonogi answers worried.

“You say innocent, Okonogi dear? Mhh…”

There, with a cunning smirk, the Kitsune Soshiro seals the faith of a poor, innocent victim… a human victim.

It took nothing for him to leave Ghost City; many Yokai saluted him goodbye, other simply omitted any words. And it also took nothing for him to go from a humanoid form with fluffy ears, to a very sweet fox with narrow eyes and a cute pair of fangs.

“Night of the Yokai” that’s how the event you were attending was called. A usual “ghost seeing” event hosted at your city park -that actually looked a lot more like a forest- where you all wear typical clothes and enjoyed a night time walk around the park. Some people used their great costume skills to dress as Yokai, scaring the weak and the bravest and other simply sold delicious treats to collect funds for the local shrine.

And there you are, dressed in a beautiful pink yukata with flowers tangled around your hair. An updo as beautiful as your face, and the sweet scent of your perfume attracting every look around.

As you begin to walk, the chit chat of your friends began to become less and less important and by the time you realized their presence was a simple memory… you had lost? How could you? you were right by the main entrance of the park minutes ago. The sound of the matsuri music only reaches your ears like a soft murmur, and the moon was now the main source of light in your path… why? What happened?

Your phone, dead. no gps, no calls, no 911. Why?

“Are you lost?” a voice caresses your ears, a very distant, strange voice. It is playful, but a little creepy. You could feel how the creature speaking was smiling.

You take a look around. Nothing. There is nothing.

“Aren’t you going to answer? Are you mute?” that same voice asks. This time sounding a little annoyed rather than playful. You swallow; should you comply? or should you run?

“Who are you? I am not lost! I’m just taking a walk” you lie; if there is something you know very well, is to never show weakness.

“Mhh… are you sure!? I can help you come back, if you want me to…” that voice says, this time closer… so close you could swear it was whispering right on your ear.

You turn around swiftly; scared. But there isn’t a man, nor a ghost… just a little cute fox sitting right there. You immediately breathe alleviated, at least danger doesn’t seem so close.

“What a cute fox” you murmur, still looking around, frightened. “Am I?” the fox answers, turning into a humaine form right in front of you. Uncovered, naked and most importantly savagely free, he stands up with his hands resting on his waist and his sex imposingly out.

You gawk; the beauty of that man, pale and well trained, leaves you in awe. The soft kiss of a silver moonlight shines on his purple fluffy ears, and a tail also casts shadows on the ground.

You take some steps back; independently if that human fox hybrid looked absolutely delicious, you don’t really feel safe around a creature completely naked.

“Why are you walking away? You said I was cute, don’t you wanna pet me?” he asks again, smiling and while he does, flashing a pair of brilliant sharp fangs coming out of his mouth.

“I- don’t hurt me” you mutter, that’s the only thing you could actually say as your legs quiver and your eyes are forced to look away from his nudity.

“I am not going to hurt you! that’s not something I do… In fact, I wish to help you out of this place… however, for that, I require a payment!” he playfully words, sitting back on a rock. As a god waiting to be served, perhaps even to be fed, he waits for your answer.

You stay still for a couple of seconds; should you trust this creature? Of course not! and yet, there you were, thinking about it… there is something so luring about him, about the way he is not even a little ashamed of showing off his anatomy… so magical and attractive.

“What’s the price?” you ask, biting your thumb nail. “Oh, interested then? Well, a kiss! I’ve read about your stories, where a princess kisses a frog, and the frog turns into a prince… would you do it?”

You giggle; is that so? a simple kiss? That sounds a little childish…

“Well, I’ll do it. But! You need to promise me you’ll help me getting out the forest” “It’ll be my absolute pleasure…”

He then proceeds to stand up, and jumping comes closer to you. An aura, almost asphyxiating, surrounds you when he does. But that feeling doesn’t feel bad, in fact, it is almost described as… lustful. You close your eyes and pout, coming close to his lips -and those interesting pointy fangs protruding from beneath-. You feel attracted to kiss him slowly rather than giving him a quick peck, and it makes you auto reprimand yourself for such lewd thoughts.

Oh, but honey… how could you be that innocent? a fox is an animal that hunts a prey to eat, and you are exactly it…

As your lips touch his lips, a claw seems to bury on your waist; Snatched against his nudity you become trapped, and the kiss that started with a simple crash of mouths is now deep, lustful, erotic.

Your mind goes blank; dazed in the way his tongue intrudes your wet cave, you can’t articulate a single thought. Your body takes over, and what should have been fighting to be freed, turns into a quite “receptive attitude”.

Your pelvis comes closer to his crotch, feeling how hard it becomes the more he kisses you. Your arms, that were hanging loosely on each side of your body, are now tangled around that “kitsune’s” waist.

No words were said as he pushes you softly and you start walking back until you hit a tree. One of his hands, now that he is sure you won’t run away from him, grips tightly around your wrists. He lifts your arms up and pins them against the log behind.

“Kitsune don’t turn into princes, as you can see” he smirks. “I can see that very clearly…” you answer back, as one of his legs slides in between yours and his thigh reaches your core.

He chuckles, his slanted eyes turn into a fine line, there is no doubt this man is a fox… it even looks cute, enough to make you smile in such intense situation.

But the soft and sweetness only lasts for a second, as he opens his eyes shining a purple hue that’s both intense and scary.

“Now, that you have given me access to your body, I will enjoy feasting on it” he announces, startling you with such statement. Access? Feasting?

You widen your eyes, unable to react to the fast blow of a paw that turns your clothes completely to rags; and your body, naked.

“Unless tell me your name first” you murmur, as his lips are about to attack one of your nipples. “My name is Soshiro… now, enough with the questioning” he says, desperate to, indeed, feast on you.

You moan the moment his lips finally surround your nipple, but then you whine when those sharp fangs nibble on it. You can’t move your arms, as he still has you pinned against the tree, and your legs, spread enough, only fight to keep your weight up.

Soshiro pushes up his thigh against your sex; a pressure you definitely sense, making you feel even needier…In a matter of seconds you begin humping on his leg, a dry torture that feels good but still not enough. And for that, my dear, you just need to wait just a little longer…

“You are making a mess of my leg, fufufu” he giggles, biting your neck while he takes his leg off your sex. It hurts, those fangs seem to mark your skin to the point of drawing out blood from it. It hurts but it’s so good, so deliciously good… “You are so tasty, human…” he whispers in your ear, making you tremble with such creepy but sexy tone. “Your blood tastes like an unholy prey…”

You gasp; is he really thinking of eating you alive?!

He smirks, again, without you looking. But you can still notice he is doing so. And after he does, a swift snatch and you are on your fours with your knees burning from hitting the ground beneath.

“Now, let me copulate with you” “Copulate?!” you ask, on the verge of laughter. That sounded like an ancient word to you. In fact, Soshiro is quite an ancient creature. “Oh! Wait! My bad, I remember you dirty humans call it fuck… so naughty” he answers back as a slap reaches your buttocks. “But believe me, we are even more naughty than any of you…”

Another spank made you whine, and then, the heat of a throbbing sex reached closely to your dripping core. It makes you quiver, desperate to receive it on your insides. Walls already pulsating and spasming, dilating enough to welcome him.

“Look at you, so willing to let me fuck you” he laughs, already playing with the wetness coming from your core in between his fingers.

Soshiro takes enough time to discover everything about your anatomy, and when the way your ass keeps lifting up to ask for more, he finally positions himself behind you with one knee on the ground and his hands around your waist.

His intrusive hardness opens its way inside you, dealing with milking walls that make him grunt as he goes slowly in. Little claws of his, carve marks on your waist going down your hips.

The first blow comes, a ram so strong that makes you mewl in lust. And then the next one, forcing you to keep your arms and legs steady not to fall, being on all fours ain’t easy.

Soshiro fucks you like an animal, as naughty and feral as one. One thrust after the other, so eager to make you cum from pure brutal penetration… and, unlike any previous men in your life, he, indeed, got you trembling with an uncontrollable orgasm experience.

Your chest has already fallen onto the ground, your arms couldn’t keep you on all fours. And, to Soshiro’s delight, this position seem even more enjoyable… so ready to fill you up with whatever Kitsune cums with…

“Can I get pregnant from a yokai?” “Well… I bet you can, wish me to try?!” “NO”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ....

“(Name)! (Name)?! Hey! Snap out of it!” one of your friends screams at you. “Wha- what?!” you blink repeatedly, unable to understand what is actually happening. “You got lost following a little fox, but thankfully you came back… are you ok?” “Oh… yes, yes… I guess I am…” you smiled. ㅤㅤㅤㅤAfter all, that naughty fox helped you go back, exactly as he promised ~

Taglist of amazing babes: @adaizel @ariesbbytings @animesnowstorm @lenablack9919 💕🌻

[unpredictable-probabilities]

What Lies Beyond Fear

Summary:

Dream decides to visit Hob a day earlier than their agreed appointment.

He learns about modern-day Halloween traditions, and what it means to have nothing to fear.

Word Count: 4,635

Notes (more at the end):

For All Hallows Sadman 2024 hosted by @mr-sadman 🎃

Prompt: Trick or Treat

[Read on AO3]

---

Dream ducks under fake cobwebs hanging on trees and sidesteps around a candy stall as he makes his way to The New Inn. He could, of course, have just appeared on its doorstep, but he finds that he likes the walk, as it reminds him of the first time he took the path. The first time he had seen Hob again after more than a century.

The late afternoon sun casts a warm glow on the pub as Dream draws closer, and he sees a poster on its wall advertising an upcoming Halloween party tomorrow. Drinks would be at a discounted price if one were to attend in costume.

“My friend!”

Dream turns his gaze away from the poster to look at Hob, already approaching him from the other side of the open doorway.

“You're here early,” Hob smiles when he reaches him. “I'm not complaining, though.”

Dream finds that it is easy to return the smile. It always is now. With Hob.

“I simply took your advice and accepted more help with my work from Lucienne and Matthew. They all but pushed me out of my own castle when I said I wanted to visit you a day earlier than what we agreed on.”

Hob beams at him, and it makes something warm bloom in Dream’s chest. “Well, I should remember to thank them later. Wanna come inside, then?” he nods to the interior of the pub.

Dream nods, and Hob leads the way inside to their usual table, talking about how the Halloween party was a spontaneous idea that only came about less than a week ago.

Dream keeps his eyes on Hob the entire time, not wanting to miss a moment of it. His feet have memorised the way to their table, and so he is free to give his full attention to his friend.

He has grown rather fond of Hob's face this century; the way his eyes light up when telling a story, how he gestures with his hands more as his excitement grows, as if his body couldn't possibly contain all the happiness he is feeling, the way his eyebrows lift and his lips quirk up in a smile when Dream says something he finds surprising. That was what he endeavoured to see today, why he surprised Hob with his unannounced visit. Needless to say, the reality of it is even better than his expectations.

“Is Halloween also celebrated as a romantic event nowadays?” Dream asks curiously as they sit across from each other.

“What? No, why?” Hob furrows his eyebrows.

“I see the daydreams of your patrons. A handful of them are hoping to ask someone as their date to your gathering tomorrow. They have romantic intentions.”

“Oh!” Hob chuckles. “No, humans just do that. Ask someone to be their date to parties as an excuse to spend time together.”

Dream tilts his head a fraction to the side. “I am not certain I understand the need for such an excuse. Would it not be simpler to ask to spend time together regardless of gatherings?”

“Well, you know,” Hob looks down and picks up the round cardboard coaster, tapping the side idly on the table. “Sometimes it's scary to ask that, especially if you don't know what the other person likes to do. It's easier to invite them to a party, where there's already something to do.”

“Ooh Professor G! I didn’t know you’d bring a date!” a young lady wearing a witch’s cape and hat playfully says.

Hob chuckles good-naturedly. “Ah no, this is Dream. My—”

“Date. Yes. I am Hob’s date this evening.” Dream smiles at Hob.

Dream blinks himself out of Hob’s daydream. He always makes an effort to respect the privacy of his friend’s thoughts, but that particular one was so sharp and sudden that it caught him off-guard.

Curious. Hob daydreams of people mistaking him as his date. And him confirming it with a smile. That does not make sense. It would imply that Hob has romantic feelings for him. And why would he, when he has lived among humans for nearly seven centuries and experienced all their warmth and joviality?

Before this century they had only had six meetings, none of which had lasted a full day. Surely Hob would not prefer the cold aloofness of him compared to all the interesting humans within his reach in his daily life.

“Dream? Are you alright?” Hob’s eyebrows knit together in concern.

Dream focuses on his friend once more. “Yes. I was merely… pondering.”

“A penny for your thoughts, then?” Hob’s expression is open, encouraging. As he has always been after Dream told him the reason behind his absence in 1989.

Dream could ask. About Hob’s daydream. It is normal for friends to ask questions.

“I hope my sudden appearance has not intruded on any prior plans.”

Hob raises an eyebrow. “That’s what you were thinking about?”

Dream glances down. It is also normal for friends to be considerate of another’s time. And much more acceptable than inquiring upon one’s private thoughts.

“Don’t worry about that, mate, I’m always glad to see you. I have to chaperone a friend’s kids later tonight for trick-or-treat, but until then we can just be here. Unless you wanna chaperone with me.”

Dream looks at Hob again, trying to discern if he correctly interpreted the hopefulness in that last remark.

“You don’t have to, of course,” Hob says hurriedly. He clears his throat. “The kids’ parents are my colleagues, and they have to attend a seminar tonight so they asked if I could chaperone their kids since they live nearby.” He looks at his watch. “That’s in a little over two hours from now, though. We have plenty of time.”

Dream wants to point out that that is not nearly enough time. That they spend several hours together in their weekly meetings, sometimes until late into the night when Dream remembers that immortal though he is, Hob’s body still needs sleep. At which point they would continue their conversations in the Dreaming, lounging in the couches in the library or under the shades of trees in Fiddler’s Green.

Therefore, no. Two hours is not plenty of time.

“Dream? Is it really bothering you?” The concern has returned in Hob’s eyes.

“I am merely puzzled by these new human traditions. In times past, when this festival had varying names, it was often associated with bonfires and commemoration of the dead. Plastic spiders and masked children asking for sweets are all quite new to me.”

“Ah, yeah, it was a bit surreal to me at first too,” Hob reminisces. “But it’s nice to see an old solemn festival evolve into something that makes people more cheerful, you know? There’s something beautiful in seeing happiness around you.”

Dream keeps his gaze on Hob, on the curve of his lips and the crinkle in the corners of his eyes when he smiles. The same man who had sat across from him talking about chimneys and playing cards and handkerchiefs with raw wonder in his voice.

Dream returns the smile. “Indeed. Perhaps I can learn more about Halloween in this century. If your offer to chaperone with you still stands.”

“Of course,” Hob says immediately, his face brightening in a way that further convinces Dream he made the right choice by proposing to extend their meeting past two meager hours. “Oh I forgot to get us food, sorry. Give me a moment.” He turns and calls the attention of one of his staff.

“You are aware that I do not need food.”

“Yeah, but you enjoy it,” Hob winks at him before turning to the waiter. “I’d like a strawberry scone and my usual coffee, and a blueberry muffin and hot chocolate for my friend.” He turns to Dream for confirmation.

“It appears you know me well,” Dream concedes.

Hob grins at him and thanks the waiter who promptly passes their order on to the kitchen.

They talk, as they always do in their meetings. Hob listens with rapt attention while Dream tells him of his work in his realm, and Dream wonders if Hob is aware that his own stories of how his week had gone captivate Dream in much the same way.  

Dream thinks it is because he is the Prince of Stories that Hob’s tales have such an effect on him, no matter how mundane they may seem. It is not until Hob asks if he wants to have another cup of hot chocolate that Dream realises it is quite the opposite; Hob sees him beyond his function, and wishes to spend time with him simply because they are friends. It is not something that he is overly familiar with. Spending time with a friend. He has far more experience being the Lord of Dreams. Although it appears that he finds more pleasure in being a friend. With Hob.

Two hours fly by quickly—as Dream had known they would—and Hob says that he should get dressed before picking up the kids at their house.

“Is there a dress code for Halloween?” Dream furrows his eyebrows.

“Of course. Costumes.” Hob grins. “Even the chaperones get dressed up here every year. Wanna come upstairs? You can read in the living room while I change.”

They vacate their table and go upstairs to Hob’s flat as they had done many times before. The motions are so familiar that the situation almost feels domestic. And Dream wonders if Hob feels it, too.

“Right then, make yourself at home,” Hob says easily when they reach his living room.

“Do you say this to all your friends? Offer your home as theirs?” Dream trails his fingers along the books on Hob’s coffee table. The stack is higher now than when he first came here. He sits down on the couch to peruse the titles along the spines, and finds that the books are those he had expressed a preference to in their previous meetings.

Hob falters in his step and stops walking. “Oh, um, I haven’t really invited anyone else over since I moved here. I’ve got all these things from my past lying around, like that vase from the 1800s, and that music box from 1902. And other things that would be more difficult to pass off as part of an art collection. It’s just easier if I don’t need to worry about explaining them.”

Dream glances around, realising what Hob means. He has decorated his home to have pieces of the different lives he had lived, has chosen to keep things from his past that he holds close to his heart and doesn’t want to forget.

And Dream is sitting among them.

Dream should say something. Friends express appreciation to each other, he recently learned. He should tell Hob how honoured he feels to be allowed to see all this, to share the same space as Hob’s most cherished memories. Hob should know about the blooming warmth in Dream’s chest, about how perhaps this place is beginning to feel like home to him as well.

“You should get changed.”

Hob blinks. “Ah, right. Won’t be long. There’s some food in the fridge if you want any.” He disappears into his bedroom.

Dream sighs. It seems that he is far more articulate as the Prince of Stories than he is as a friend.

He picks up a book from the top of the stack—a fantasy novel he had begun to read at a previous visit—and continues to read where he had left off, idly wondering how humans learned to express themselves through words.

Several minutes pass before he hears Hob’s voice again.

“That’s everything, I think. I considered an eye patch but I don't wanna be walking around at night with just one eye, especially since I'm chaperoning.”

Dream glances up from his book and sees Hob wearing black leather boots that nearly come up to his knees, brown trousers, a loose white v-neck shirt tucked in, and a long black coat with gold accents at the collar and cuffs. Around his waist is a wide brown leather belt affixed with a scabbard and a gun holster, holding a cutlass and a pistol, respectively. Both of which are evidently made of plastic.

Preoccupied as he had been with his sentiments about Hob and his home, Dream had not stopped to wonder what Hob’s costume might be. He wears it well. His padded thighs and broad shoulders carry the clothes splendidly, and there is a glimpse of chest hair from beneath the low neckline.

“Don't laugh at me,” Hob warns playfully.

Dream blinks and lifts his gaze to his friend's eyes.

“I've got a fake sword and I'm not afraid to use it.”

“You are a pirate.” The past several minutes have not returned eloquence to Dream.

“Yep. That pirate show’s still stuck in my head.”

“That does not look like the ensemble of Edward Teach.”

“Because I'm not wearing that much leather,” Hob says pointedly. “Otherwise I'll be sweating in half an hour.”

Dream huffs out a chuckle. “Am I correct to assume that friends wear matching costumes on Halloween?”

“Sometimes, yeah. Why?”

Dream closes his eyes and conjures the image in his mind. The black leather boots, the black shirt tucked loosely in black trousers, the low neckline mostly covered by the black scarf tied neatly around his neck. The ring on his left index and little fingers, inlaid with rubies. The rapier hanging by the black belt around his hips.

He opens his eyes and stands up, neatly returning the book to the coffee table.

Hob is staring at him with his mouth open, his eyes running over every detail of Dream's clothing as if intending to imprint them in his memory.

Dream smiles in satisfaction at Hob's reaction. “I do like the Gentleman Pirate’s attire but I have a preference for black. I do not think he would mind the colour change.”

Hob blinks and meets his gaze. “You… Is that a real sword?”

Dream glances down at it and waves his hand to change it into plastic. “Not anymore.”

Hob chuckles, seeming to shake himself out of a trance. “Why a pirate, too?”

“I want everyone to know we are together.”

The smile melts off Hob’s face and he swallows, eyes flicking down to Dream’s mouth.

Hob surges forward to press their lips together, his hands cupping Dream's face—

Dream nearly gasps as he closes the walls around Hob's daydream. It is even more vivid than the last.

It is rare for him to manifest a heart in his human form. He finds no point to it, and oftentimes it simply slips his mind to form one.

Yet now it thuds inside his ribcage, every beat echoing in his ears like a measure of a song saying Yes, I want that. Now.

Dream swallows and puts his hands behind his back, gripping his wrist in order to prevent himself from grabbing at Hob and pushing him against his shelf of memorabilia, imprinting another memory into his mind and body that he shan't soon forget.

Dream looks at the door and takes a steadying breath. “Shall we go, then? I do not wish to make you late for the children.” And they will be quite late indeed if Dream were to fulfill their daydreams now.

“Oh, right, yeah. Let's go.”

The air outside is refreshing, calming Dream’s heart into a more even rhythm and clearing his mind.

They pass by other children and adults wearing costumes, some carrying plastic jack-o'-lanterns with candy inside.

Dream listens to Hob talk about more of the city's Halloween traditions, wondering why he had not noticed Hob’s feelings for him before. Why he had not noticed his own.

Hob puts a protective arm out in front of Dream when a motorcycle speeds past, as if Dream could be harmed by such things. They continue on walking, with Hob talking about the unfortunate lack of sidewalks before moving on to more positive things like the free candy tonight at The New Inn for trick-or-treaters and regular customers alike.

Dream watches the light of the setting sun reflect in Hob’s eyes, remembering the first instance of Hob protecting him, all those centuries ago. He had not seen Hob's daydreams then, but he felt them at the corner of his mind. And before he could be tempted to confirm if they wanted the same thing at that moment, he cut their meeting short. He did not wish to risk Hob’s life—immortal he may be—just for the sake of his own fleeting urges.

Now there is no risk of hurt or capture for either of them. Perhaps, instead of wondering why he did not notice such feelings after his return many months ago, it is more important to wonder what he will do next. Now that he knows.

They reach the house of Hob’s friends, and pleasantries are exchanged with introductions. The kids, Noah and Oliver, know Hob as their parents’ friend from the times that they all went to The New Inn. The boys dressed as their favourite superheroes—Batman and Superman, as Hob helpfully whispers to him—and they immediately adore the pirate costumes that Hob and Dream are wearing.

After their parents remind them to get along with other kids and listen to their chaperones, the boys excitedly run ahead to wait for them on the street, bouncing on their heels as they wait for the grown-ups to finish their conversations.

Hob's friends mention an upcoming holiday trip, and Dream is struck by the realisation that the spouses look at each other in much the same way that Hob looks at him.

He tenses and waits for fear to set in. He has had lovers in the past, and their relationships ended in ruin. He will not—must not—allow the same thing to happen between him and Hob.

Dream is so lost in his thoughts that he barely registers when the farewells happen and they join the kids.

They walk down the streets and Noah teases his younger brother about being scared of the older kids’ costumes of ghosts and ghouls.

“I'm not scared!” Oliver says indignantly in his high voice.

Dream feels a small hand grasp his. He looks down and sees the boy’s green eyes looking at him in concern.

“You're quiet, Mister Dream. Are you scared?” Oliver is still holding his hand reassuringly.

Dream glances at Hob and sees that his friend is smiling fondly at him. Those warm brown eyes that welcomed him without question even after he had stormed out of their meeting and was absent in the next. The gaze that belongs to the man who never doubted that he would return and built a new place for him to return to.

“No,” Dream answers Oliver without looking away from Hob. “I am not scared.”

“Hurry, Oli!” Noah calls out from a few paces ahead. “Mum says we're not allowed to separate!”

Oliver lets go of Dream’s hand and runs to his brother.

“Oi!” Hob calls after him. “Your mum also said not to separate from us!”

The boys give no indication that they heard Hob, and instead approach the nearest house to ring the doorbell.

Hob chuckles and shakes his head as he turns to Dream. “You're really okay with doing this?”

“I am. These children tonight have loud daydreams of their favourite sweets and eating them while in their costumes. It is good to see them fulfill that happiness. I had… forgotten. How much every little daydream matters.” Dream looks around at the little superheroes and princesses and fairies walking around the street, and he feels himself smile.

When he turns back to his friend, Hob is watching him with a smile of his own.

“It's good to see you happy,” Hob says with such sincere softness that makes something like yearning twinge in Dream’s chest.

“Mister Hob! Mister Dream! Let's go!” Oliver is holding his brother's hand and is excitedly waving for them to continue walking.

They meet some of Hob's neighbours along the way and get compliments on their costumes, and Hob invites them to tomorrow’s Halloween party at The New Inn.

Plastic pumpkin baskets get filled, and eventually Noah and Oliver grow tired of walking and sit on a bench to peruse their hoard.

Hob goes to buy refreshments at a food stall nearby while Dream stays to guard the kids, standing a few steps away from the bench and looking around with interest at the jack-o'-lanterns that have now been lit all over the park.

“That's a lot of candy you got.” An unfamiliar kid’s voice catches Dream’s attention.

He turns to see that three teenage boys have approached Noah and Oliver, wearing shiny robot costumes that look particularly expensive.

“Yeah…” Oliver says timidly and protectively hugs his pumpkin basket close to his chest.

“Now, that's not nice,” says the tallest kid. “Didn't your mum teach you to share?” He reaches for Oliver's basket—

Noah stands up and squares his shoulders, looking up at the older kids. “Didn't your mums teach you not to steal?”

The tall kid sneers and steps forward, and in that moment Dream bends the shadows and appears directly behind the bench, facing them.

“The night is still young, children. And reward is only sweet when it is earned,” Dream says evenly, his eyes black pools with bright stars in the center.

The older kids stare at him in horror and stumble all over themselves in their haste to run away.

“They left,” Oliver says in awe, watching the kids turn and disappear around a corner.

“It must have been your brother's bravery that daunted them.” Dream blinks and his eyes are once more blue.

“Daunted…” Noah furrows his eyebrows in thought and turns to Dream. “That means scared, right?”

“Indeed,” Dream smiles. “It appears you are smart as well. You make for an excellent Batman.”

Noah beams. Then he gets a chocolate bar from the depths of his basket. “For you, Mister Dream!”

Dream looks down in surprise at the offering in the child’s open palm. “But you worked for it. It is yours.”

“Our mum did teach us how to share,” Noah grins. “With friends.” He holds his palm higher.

Dream is rendered speechless. He does not need air but for a few moments he feels short of breath. Then he smiles and takes the chocolate bar. “Thank you, Noah.”

Hob arrives carrying big cups of fruit shakes in a paper bag. “Everyone alright?” He begins to distribute the cups.

“Yes!” Oliver exclaims, showing his full basket. “Let’s get back home and share these with mum and dad!”

The fruit drinks seem to have replenished the children's energy, and they jog and bounce along the sidewalk on the way back to their house.

Their parents have returned and have already prepared dinner for them. Oliver regales them with the tale of how his brother defended them from bullies, and as a reward they are allowed to have some of their candy before dinner.

Farewells are exchanged, and Hob and Dream make their way back to The New Inn.

“I saw what you did, you know,” Hob says as they leisurely walk under the light of streetlamps. “I can't believe you scared those kids like that,” he chuckles.

“Hm?” Dream hums with feigned innocence. “Noah did not want to give them treats. So I gave them a trick instead. Is that not how this holiday works?”

Hob laughs, a bright sound that makes Dream continually grateful for this night. “Not exactly, no.”

“Then I suppose I should stay longer so that I might learn more.”

“Well, you know I'll never complain about that. We can stay at the pub or in my flat, wherever you like. Could make us some dinner too, if you want.”

“I was thinking about a longer duration than that.”

“We’ll go to the Dreaming afterwards? Yeah, of course.”

Dream stops walking and Hob follows suit, looking at him questioningly.

“Hob Gadling. Will you do me the honour of being my date to The New Inn’s Halloween party?”

Hob’s lips part and a tinge of scarlet colours his cheeks.

Dream smiles. “You arranged for the party to happen tomorrow, on the day you were expecting me to visit. Am I wrong to assume you wanted me there?”

“No,” Hob says quickly. “I did want you there. I do. It's just… Date? How'd you mean…?”

“I mean,” Dream takes a step forward, making the blush on Hob's face even more prominent. “That I have romantic intentions and wish to be the priority of your attentions tomorrow. If you would be amenable.”

“What— Yes!” Hob laughs again, relief and delight evident in his voice. “How… How long have you… felt that way?” His gaze is vulnerable, hopeful.

“I confess I do not know,” Dream glances down for a moment. “But I know how I feel now. And if you feel the same…” He takes another step forward and transports them both back to Hob’s flat. “I have some plans in mind.”

Hob gasps in surprise at the sudden teleportation and stumbles backwards into his shelf of memorabilia, rattling some of the objects.

A smile curves Dream's lips, a coil of hunger beginning to awaken within him.

“What… Plans?” Hob blinks, pupils dilating at what he saw in Dream's expression.

Dream reaches up and slowly undoes his scarf. Hob’s gaze drops to his neck and follows every movement of his fingers.

Dream tosses the scarf to the floor, revealing the low neckline of his shirt showing much of his pale chest and collarbones.

“God almighty,” Hob breathes, and his tongue runs across his bottom lip.

Hob's daydreams wash over Dream, loud and colourful and vivid that Dream feels nearly intoxicated with them.

Dream takes a breath and steps forward, placing one hand on the shelf beside Hob’s head to steady himself. His friend's eyes widen as Dream leans in close enough that their noses are almost touching.

“I can taste your daydreams, Hob,” Dream's voice almost wavers, his restraint hanging by the barest threads of his willpower. “I should like to taste the reality of them.”

Hob swallows, and a trembling exhale escapes him. He opens his mouth as if to say something, then thinks better of it and simply cups Dream's face in his hands and presses their lips together.

Hob's lips are impossibly soft, and his calloused hands a comforting warmth around Dream as one slides down the back of his neck to pull him closer.

Dream places his hands on Hob’s waist and licks at the seam of his mouth, eliciting a moan as Hob's tongue eagerly meets his. He deftly unbuckles Hob’s belt, dropping it to the ground along with the plastic weapons in its holsters.

Hob fumbles around Dream’s belt with trembling fingers, tossing it to the ground as well and kicking it out of the way as they stumble across the corridor to his bedroom, Hob’s coat falling off his shoulders in their journey.

“Please tell me this isn't a trick,” Hob pants against his lips as he opens the bedroom door and they pour through the doorway.

“Not at all,” Dream feels himself to be equally breathless and a fond playful smile curves his lips. “I should like to have you as a treat. If you will have me.”

Hob captures Dream's mouth again in response, dragging him over to the bed as he blindly pushes the door close.

Down at the busy pub, customers enjoy the free candy and new Halloween decorations, as well as the songs playing from the jukebox that drown out any sound that might be coming from the owner’s flat above.

---

Notes:

The whole idea of Dream thinking about his feelings for Hob while they're walking around outside is inspired by this fic written by @beatnikfreakiswriting <3 I had read it shortly before starting to write this fic. It's a lovely and adorable read!

----

(All Hallows Sadman 2024 Masterpost)

(Masterlist)

[saint-hymn]

no because see if we're talking c!tntduo, especially c!wil,

for me its always "almost" with these freaks. almost acting on it, almost closer than they should be, almost, almost, just enough to make c!wil feel alive and more. arm's length. unhealthy distance or lack thereof. get the blood pumping and yank himself away at the last moment. leave them both wanting like some fucked up starved kenneled animal, like stretching a rubber band, like hunger-thirst and the omnipresent want. you get me? the bassline, the base note of this story is wanting-needing-wanting. and

let's look at who's on the table today. just one half, sorry, c!Wilbur. i sanctify and canonize him now as the patron saint of almost-there. one must imagine Tantalus happy. hold onto that sentence for me while we go through this.

his hand slams the button and he almost leaves a mark; his poignant point was additionally steamrolled after this fact and no one even bothered to give him a proper burial, a proper memorial, because who mourns a fucking costume, a typecast homicidal maniac?

he almost won. he almost got it. he was almost happy. they were almost free. he almost proved a point to big Q. he was almost seen. he was almost understood. he almost made up for his wrongs kind of maybe not quite probably not, but he almost, he almost, he almost,

he almost forgave himself?

(kind of maybe not quite probably not.)

he was almost loved he was almost seen as human it almost wrapped up perfectly it almost had a cherry on top but, again, the thing about desire is it's stronger when it's not totally satisfied. c!q holds him with a desperation and he digs from q's gaze only an understanding of himself. this is not a two way radio.

the cherry on top is that this is his penance now, his stupid little ending no one likes. for what? for failure? for being the sly motherfucker he is? for being too stubborn and too arrogant to take up quackity's offer and, by extent, always always keeping him at arms length always leaving them both oh so fucking wanting?

he's now in the middle of bum fucking nowhere with no one who loves him with no one who knows him with none to show for how he clawed through the thirteen years of limbo except some scars and claustrophobia and a longing loneliness haunting him. there are no winners here, no trophies no grand ending. he ran off from his problems, as always.

congratulations, mr. president, you are now some unknown gas station clerk. another costume to wear, another character to play, forbidden from exiting stage left and being, what, himself? as if, honestly.

there is a want there, if you squint. does quackity want him to open up so he could close the distance, say what is always stuck in his throat, or taxidermy him like a trophy?

is this love, or fascination? is this affection, or obsession?

i think even under the gaze of someone that completely matches his freak and considers him not untouchably demonic but simply unpredictable i.e. c!quackity you could never find what he is. if you keep taking off his costumes there would just be more. if you keep taking off the mask his face would contort to more. if you're something so used to being forgotten you wouldn't even bother being yourself because who would even remember that? you keep peeling off his mask, facade after facade, and at some point you'd just be digging at dirt. you can't solve this puzzle, only pick it apart and ruin it

of course he can't be honest and open up, there's nothing in there. it's all a play, an actor, a lesson in dramaturgy. he'll open up when he's cold and dead on the operating table.

i am looking at c!quackity elbow-deep in the actor-metaphors on the operating table and i am asking: was it worth it? did you get what you seek, what you *wanted* from him? is this your idea of being closer than arms length? will you keep this as a trophy, too, that you have finally understood the misunderstood?

remember the bassline: want. need/want.

is the stage too big for c!wil or is he too ambitious. is the world too wide and his flames too dim? did he waste his shot, one piece of lead against leviathans? is he so lost in his own layers and layers of costumes he couldnt ever find himself again even if he begged to? i would ask "why, despite everything?/why, when everything was done?/why, when you tried your best?" but then he'd be asking the same question with a pinch more desperation and buddy neither of us has the answer here

there it is again, then, a stalemate of the omnipresent want.

the want to get-what-you-want (the hands grasping at the retreating water and reeling fruits / the hands grasping at burning flags and broken swords / the hands grasping at poker chips and glossy cards)

the want to understand (i push my thumbs into this caricature of actors and only façades split)

the want to be understood (c!quackity looked at him like he was human, through it all, and under q's gaze he was alive)

one must imagine Tantalus happy.

[actual-changeling]

The Metatron's outfit obviously has meta reasons/the costume department and Neil decided on it for a reason, but I think that there are also in-canon ones we should talk about more.

Now, the thing most people notice immediately is the colour—angels were whites, beige, light colours that match the job and heaven's sterile whiteness. His, on the other hand, is black, a colour usually associated with hell and demons.

As a small meta reason side note: I do not think that they chose the colour to signal that he is a demon and broke them up because he has Big Evil Plans because that goes against everything Good Omens is about. The Metatron is at the top of heaven's hierarchy and only subservient to God (assuming She is actually still involved), he can have bad intentions and universe-destroying plans as an angel, the whole point is that the angel/demon dichotomy is an ideological fantasy.

Why did the Metatron himself choose that outfit though? One would assume that he would have the most pristine white clothes possible, but every single time we have seen him so far, he has been a floating head without a body.

So before he came to earth, he actively made a decision to dress the way he did. We also know that he did his research on Aziraphale and Crowley, hence his knowing that Aziraphale consumes human food and getting that coffee. The entire situation was the Metatron creating the most beneficial set-up for his plan—to convince Aziraphale to come back to heaven with him.

He knows Aziraphale likes food, but what else does he like?

Crowley.

The person we see wearing exclusively black and dark colours.

Give Aziraphale a coffee, make his subconscious associate the Metatron with Crowley based on his clothes, sweet-talk him and lie to get him attached, and then offer him everything he could have ever wanted—heaven, the ability to change heaven, and Crowley and him being angels together.

Just like his off-hand mention about consuming food, the black suit is also meant to make him seem 'other', someone who—just like Aziraphale—doesn't really fit in with all the other angels. Aziraphale sees all of that, and the conclusion he comes to is the following:

The Metatron, the Guy In Charge is like me! He understands me, and we're both different, but he still wants me to be the Supreme Archangel. It IS possible to break some rules and still be a Good Angel, I was worried for nothing, everything is fine, and he will even revise the mistake of Crowley's fall.

Consequently, Aziraphale accepted the offer and didn't even think further than his own moral qualms finally being resolved, which is exactly what the Metatron wanted.

I think he vastly underestimated their relationship though—Aziraphale almost changes his mind—but overall it was a complete, clean success for him.

For my part, I am incredibly curious if he will keep the black suit in season three, turn back into a head, or change into white/lighter clothes. Now that he has Aziraphale where he wants him, he can dial down the persuasion and manipulation techniques.

[in-my-loki-feels]

💕 President Loki + Don

Welp, once again I went a little overboard. 😅 But this one is a sick fic, a Halloween fic, and an ask prompt fill all in one so it's okay if it's a little long, right? Inspired by your drawing of sick, blanket burrito Loki. ❤️

ETA: Look at this blanket burrito President Loki!! Thank you for immortalizing him in his pathetic misery. 🤣💚

💕 kissing somewhere other than lips

Pride goeth before the fall and Don was looking at a prime example of it. The huddle of blankets on the couch shook with another series of coughs, followed by a not-very-productive sounding sniffle.

“No better, huh?” Don said, standing beside the couch. The medicine had been a shot in the dark, given he knew nothing about Loki’s physiology. 

A face appeared within the swath of blankets, eyes narrowed and nose red. The glower Loki leveled at him could have peeled paint from the wall. He opened his mouth—probably to deliver some scathing reply—but another coughing fit hit him. It had barely let up when Loki suddenly sat up, flinging off the blankets. 

“Enough!” he snapped. “How can a mere human ailment affect me so? This is absurd!” His fury was somewhat dampened by his consonants being so congested.

He swayed and Don caught his shoulder to keep him upright. 

“I don't know what to tell you, babe. Even the Martians fell to plain ol’ bacteria.” 

“What? And don't call me that,” Loki added mulishly. He normally let the endearment slide but being sick apparently brought out his petulance. 

“Not an H.G. Wells fan?” Don teased. He took his hand away once he was sure Loki wouldn't fall over and picked up the couch pillows that had been shoved to the floor. “It really does help to sleep propped up.”

“It wasn't comfortable,” Loki muttered and sniffled again. He started to pull the blankets back around him. 

Don plucked a couple tissues from the box on the coffee table and reached for Loki's nose. Loki jerked back. 

“I am not a child!” A hand emerged from the blanket cocoon to snatch the tissues. He blew his nose noisily.

No, but you're acting like one. Don kept that thought to himself. It was a true sign of how out of it Loki must be feeling when he didn't notice. Loki usually read Don like an open book, picking up every cheeky comment he thought but didn’t voice. 

“Have you never been sick before? Not even as a child?” Don knew Loki considered himself all-powerful, but he could be hurt—even almost mortally injured—so illness had to be a thing back on Asgard. 

Loki had slumped against the couch arm with his eyes closed, breathing shallowly. He was quiet long enough that Don thought he’d fallen asleep. Then he sighed. 

“As a child, yes. Occasionally.” He opened his eyes but seemed to be looking through the floor instead of at it. “My mother cared for me until I was better.” 

Don could see Frigga playing nursemaid well, as kind and gentle as she had been. 

“Well, good news: I have lots of experience with this. The kids are constantly bringing home some new form of crud.”

Loki’s gaze darted to Don, a flash of alarm in his eyes before he masked it. Don wondered if, in the future, Loki was going to vanish whenever one of the boys got sick. 

“Why don’t I make you some soup, and…” He trailed off, looking up at the ceiling as he heard raised voices from upstairs. There were two loud slams as the argument continued. 

“You said you were gonna be Zeus!” 

“And you said you’d be Iron Man!” 

The squabbling grew louder as the boys came down the stairs. Don hurried to meet them by the door. 

Both boys were dressed in full body costumes printed to look like a three-piece suit, complete with a red and blue “vote” pin. It wasn’t very realistic, but what could you expect from a mass-produced “Mr. President” costume. Both were also wearing a plastic set of horns with elastic bands that went around their heads to keep the horns in place. The black stood out against the boys’ blond hair. 

“He copied me!” Sean said, shoving his brother with his shoulder. 

“Nuh-uh! It was my idea first!” Kevin replied, pushing back. 

“Come on, don’t fight,” Don said, and lowered his voice. “You know Loki isn’t feeling well.” 

They both sent guilty looks towards the living room. Loki was hidden behind the couch’s back, but he had been there since they went upstairs to change. 

“Can we show him our costumes?” Sean asked. Kevin added puppy eyes to the request. 

“Only if you stop fighting about it,” Don said. The boys shared annoyed glances and then sighed. 

“Fine,” Kevin muttered. 

Don ushered them around the couch to find Loki had disappeared into the huddle of blankets again. Hopefully he hadn’t fallen asleep. 

“Hey Loki, the boys wanna show off their Halloween costumes if you’re feeling up for it,” he coaxed. 

The pile of blankets wriggled a little and then parted so Loki could peer out. He blinked and then his scowl deepened. 

“Atrocious,” he croaked. 

Don felt a half-second of regret, mixed with worry about how his sons would react, and then his heart stopped when green light enveloped both boys. It was gone in the next instant, but Don’s heart almost shot out of his chest before he saw the boys were still there. He knew Loki had come to care for them, but he was more crabby than ever with this cold and history had shown how quickly Loki lashed out when in a bad mood. Don could tell their outfits had changed and moved around them to get a better look.

The one-piece costumes were gone, transformed into identical full three-piece suits, complete with bright green vests and matching ties. The toy crowns now looked exactly like Loki’s, solid and gleaming gold, mysteriously staying in place without any band around the back of the head. 

Sean and Kevin looked at each other, realized what had happened, and let out identical shouts of joy that made Don wince. 

“Thank you, Loki!” Kevin said, almost a screech. 

Don caught them both by the shoulder before they could tackle Loki with hugs. 

“You can thank him tomorrow when he’s feeling better, okay?” He steered his sons towards the front door. “Now, you’ve got your bags?” They both held up their Halloween-themed shopping bags. “Good. Go straight to Devon’s house and don’t give his mom any trouble tonight, got it? Or I’ll confiscate all the candy when you get home.” He fixed them both with stern looks.

“Yes, Dad,” Sean said, rolling his eyes. “I still don’t see why we can’t go on our own.” 

“Because your dad is an old fart who worries,” Don said, and was relieved when they giggled at the remark. Next year, Sean would be old enough to probably push back more, but he was grateful they were behaving now. “Have fun! Tell Ms. Anderson I said hi.” 

He watched from the doorway until they were halfway down the street. It looked like they might have started squabbling again, but once they started collecting candy, it’d be fine. Don almost wished he was the chaperone this year, to see people’s reactions when they opened their doors and found twin mini President Lokis on their front step.

He started to close the door and spotted the bowl of candy waiting for the trick-or-treaters to arrive. He always gave out candy, whether the boys were with him or not, and he’d bought plenty in preparation this year. There was another sneeze from the living room, followed by a string of irritable cursing. 

Don flicked the porch light on, then stepped out to leave the bowl on the chair by the door. It was even odds whether the first kids to arrive would dump the whole thing into their bags, but he had a more pressing issue to deal with. 

He shut the door and went back into the living room. Loki’s face was still visible, his eyes closed as he leaned back against the couch’s arm. 

“Is that all I am now? A mere caricature?” Loki muttered. “It barely even looked like me.” 

“Kids’ costumes are like that,” Don said. “Do you want that soup now?” 

“No,” Loki said, turning his head away and sniffling. He really did look miserable. After a moment, he heaved a big sigh that almost turned into another coughing fit. “Fine.” 

Don smiled, then leaned down to press a kiss to Loki’s forehead. Loki opened his eyes, his expression turning pleading as he tilted his chin up. Now Don was the one to sigh, but he dutifully pressed a kiss to Loki’s lips. If this cold was going to get him, he supposed it would’ve kicked in by now. 

Loki’s red cheeks and nose hadn’t changed, but he looked slightly mollified by the kiss. 

“I’ll come back with some soup and ginger ale, okay?” 

“Ale?” Loki said, frowning. Any further questions were stalled by him turning his head to cough into the blankets. Don brushed some of his hair out of his face and resisted the urge to call him adorable. It’d only make Loki more cranky. 

“You’ll see. Hang tight until I come back.” 

Loki nodded, closing his eyes once again. Don half-expected him to be asleep when he came back, but that wasn’t a problem. The soup could be reheated and he’d drink the ginger ale himself. 

As he headed into the kitchen, he thought again about Sean and Kevin’s costumes. Now that they’d had upgrades, courtesy of Loki, there was no way they’d go back to the cheap store-bought kind, or even something homemade. But would Loki help out if it wasn’t about improving his own image?  Guess we’ll find out next year, Don thought, and smiled to himself as he heated up the soup.

[leesmustardgarden]

Gardener/Botanist Reader Headcanons

P x (gn) reader

A/N: Completely self indulgent. I love plants, flowers, mushrooms— any sort of flora mystical or otherwise. I think, considering how much was delegated to the puppets the need for gardeners would be less and less. That aside, people are stubborn when it comes to art and caring for such plants is, in my opinion, nothing short of art.

Warnings: Game spoilers just all around, P and Gemini are a little stupid in this one (I am very fond of them), Lots of bouncing around concepts, tell me if I need to add more

The art of gardening was dying amongst the people of Krat, despite its rich ecosystem and peculiar plants, as it had been delegated instead to the Puppets of the city

When the puppet frenzy set in, almost all of the knowledge gained from Krat’s flora died with its people and with its puppets

Except you had survived, taken in by Antonia in the hotel, and offered her your services as thanks for the safety and security the Hotel provided

You were close with Antonia, saw her almost as a peculiar aunt. In turn she was fond of you and loved to share any of Krat’s secrets during the few times she could muster the strength to visit the gardens or you took a break and stepped inside.

When P first came by and stopped at the inner gardens, you gave him a once over before bluntly telling him not to mess about the bushes. You weren’t otherwise perturbed by his presence.

One of the few things Antonia seemed to hesitate speaking about was Gepetto, and so you had your reservations about a puppet made by him. He seemed… nice, though. Polite. Definitely very sweet.

He had come to check out the puppet dummies Eugenié was talking about, and was intrigued by you.

You kept him coming back to the garden, but most times he’d make an excuse about wanting to try out a new weapon of sorts. Not that he needed to make one— as long as he didn’t out right hurt the plants you didn’t mind.

Honestly avoids touching the plants incase some complication arises and they die or something. Doesn’t want to disappoint you, the silly guy.

Every subsequent visit comes with his awkward (albeit endearing) attempt to get to know you, and what starts off as a tentative friendship blooms into mutual pining.

P is a quiet visitor when he’s in the gardens, content to ask a question and hear you ramble on for however long you want to.

That doesn’t mean he won’t indulge your questions.

He’ll spend just as long recounting his adventures in Krat if you ask for it, sheepish and sweet as he censors the more… unsavoury moments of his journey.

In game, your character gives a bit of exposition to the flora of Krat. You tell him the certain conditions some plants thrive in, talk about the weather conditions in relation to that, etc. but you also talk about the meanings of each one. It’s from you he learns to communicate through flora.

More than that though, when you mention something specific of certain flora, it becomes a little sidequest for him. He’ll take back a little piece of it to show you and you start trading him items every time he does.

Not wanting it to be a one-sided thing, you give him pressed flower charms, amulets, floral accessories, and even some shiny things you’d picked up like quartz.

The greatest reward is maybe like a little gardener costume. To match with you, you know.

And listen, whatever you give P, he treasures. If you gave him a spare gardening uniform he’d wear that the whole way throughout Krat he’m so silly.

There’s a lot of clumsy and endearing gestures from his end.

One time he accidentally misunderstands you and makes a bouquet asking for your hand in marriage and you about have a heart attack.

You explain both the message and meaning of the bouquet to him, and while he isn’t fussed or embarrassed at his mistake he makes note of it

As he progressively becomes more human, his expressions more lively and his voice more open, your relationship develops further.

His own interest in flora flourishes. He starts trying to record the plants he comes across somehow— either by learning how to draw or asking Venigni to make some sort of camera.

He often thinks of you when he finds a peculiar plant, wondering if it would be ok to take it to you. If he had the means to just take record of it instead he’d show that to you

Doesn’t mean he doesn’t get you flowers still though. He’ll pick out flowers while weighing in his mind if it’d disrupt the ecosystem too much, and once he has them he does his best to arrange them in a pretty manner.

Gemini actually helps him here, giving him ideas for things like the wrapping, telling him to do things like use newspapers or something of the like to bundle them up

At some point the two idiots genuinely consider breaking into an arts and crafts shop because Gemini thinks it might be a good idea, and P just doesn’t know enough to argue that it isn’t

“I mean, the shop is closed down right? Nobody would mind if we just stole a ribbon… or two! Nobody’s using them anyways!” — Gemini

When he regains Carlo’s memories, he feels a little embarrassed about that and refuses to ever mention it again. Gemini makes fun of both of them somehow without being ashamed

When even Gemini fails at figuring out how to decorate flowers, P goes to the other Hotel inhabitants

Sophia’s got such a lovely eye for them, and knows how to arrange a bouquet beautifully and loves to help, and Antonia finds the whole thing adorable and loves to tease P lightly but offers genuinely good advice

Polendina is the perfect butler of course, so he knows his bouquets and is happy to help with them, and while he’s seen metal more than he’s seen flowers at the factory, Pulcinella is just as good

God forbid he asks Eugenié or Venigni though. They might be great at what they do but they’ll put together the most foul colour arrangements known to man.

Eugenié finds out about one (1) poisonous plant and decides it’s a great idea to make a whole bouquet of them. Venigni just picks out the flowers he likes the most, or the ones that match with his outfit, without… really knowing how to match it to his outfit.

I don’t even want to bring up Geppetto. Man would probably sit P down and spend hours agonizing over the arrangement of the petals and pollen like the little control freak he is.

But it gives P a nice break from Krat’s troubles, and your joy at the bouquet makes it worth it every single time

By the end of it, the flowers spill into the hotel, spotting the place with life and colour that makes it feel like maybe the world isn’t as dead and gone as it might be

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

Nanami frantically digging through Shoko’s pamphlets and googling “how to give the ward you just met a sex talk” after the last chapter, this poor man needs a Xanax and a 12 hour nap SO badly right now 😂😂

fantastic chapter btw!! I love love love maki and am fully prepared to be terrorized by her plan—terror for her having to deal with the Zenin and terrorized because that girl is batshit insane and can do anything she sets her mind to ❤️

(I have a sneaking suspicion that her plan involves that mysterious “Okkotsu Yuuta as the world’s most unenthusiastic honeypot” tag, and OH BOY OH BOY am I on tenterhooks to see what insanity (positive) Maki comes up with)

Hope you have a great day!!

Nanami, frantically rushing to r/Parenting for this fucking hurdle of fatherhood:

I (27M) may have discovered my newly adopted son (16M) is in a relationship of indeterminate and possibly intimate nature with his three (15F, 15M, 15M) friends. I need emergency advice.

I only met/took in my eldest a few days ago. Those days have been extremely trying, and have unfortunately placed a very stressful burden on my son. I have tried to support him in any way I can; however, the young character of our relationship makes me fear overstepping his boundaries. I do not want to rush anything which may damage any trust he may form in me in the long run.

As a result, I do not believe having “The Talk” with him would be appropriate at this juncture. However, I fear it may be necessary.

I recently approached him while he was visiting with his close friends in a private room. I knocked (from what I believed to be a respectful distance designed to preserve his privacy) and heard a series of… disconcerting noises. His friend (15M) then proceeded to claim that he could not open the door because they were indecent. The door was quickly opened, and all parties were clothed, but this and other behaviors between the group make me wonder if they have something deeper than friendship between them.

His previous parents were neglectful, and the main influence he has had in recent months is… a rather sorry role model. I believe the assumption that he has not yet learned of safe sexual practices is appropriate. I want him to be comfortable with me before we speak of such matters, but I also want him to be safe in the present.

A complicating factor is that one of his friends (15M) rather frequently wears a hyper realistic panda costume. I bear absolutely no judgment or prejudice against any of his potential partners and support him in his relationship. However, I do not actually know the specifics that should be covered in a talk given the particularities of these partners.

Another complicating factor is that one of his friends (15F) would have been better off being raised by wolves than the sorry excuses of humanity that raised her. While I fear that I may overstep boundaries by speaking with my new ward about such topics so soon, I would most certainly overstep boundaries by broaching the matter with her. At the same time, I cannot deny my suspicions that such a conversation would be desperately needed. How should I proceed?

The fucking comments:

what is wrong with you and your life

there is no way you are a real person

ThatOneGuyinthePandaCostumeTokyo.com is this them

your kid is a furry

Nothing in Nanami’s years of teen parenting prepared him for that moment. The man discovered types of panic he did not know existed. POV you’ve known this boy for three days max and you’re the person Responsible For His Wellbeing and mid crisis you have to figure out 1) if it’s too soon in your relationship to give him the safe sex talk 2) if you can even avoid the safe sex talk if what seems to be happening is happening 3) would it even be appropriate to give the safe sex talk to the people he would be potentially having sex with and 4) is he a furry.

Nanami was not prepared to be confronted with this particular challenge of parenting. Especially because Megumi gave Tsumiki the puberty talk, no one’s been brave enough to give her the sex talk, and the entire teen parenting group has Megumi as too Baby in their minds to have even contemplated giving him any talks.

You have NO IDEA how excited I am for that tag.

Thank you for your kind words! I’m glad you liked it!

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Deuce Spade - Rabbit Wear Vignette

"To be perfectly honest"

[Clock Town – Deuce's Home]

Ortho: I can't believe you have a fully equipped workshop next door to your home, Deuce Spade-san!

Ortho: Ehehe, I'm excited to think that I might be able to dress up like a white rabbit like everyone else.

Deuce: I didn't expect you to want to dress up like a white rabbit, Ortho.

Deuce: I really hope they'll let us borrow their 3D printer and materials…

Deuce: …Well, guess there's nothing else to do but ring the bell, then.

[buzzes intercom]

Workshop Owner: Yes, hello, who is it?

Deuce: Uh, it's Spade from next door…

Workshop Owner: Spade…? Wait, you're not… DEUCE!?

Deuce: Yes, sir. …It's been a long time.

Deuce: I apologize for this unexpected visit. I was wondering if perhaps we would be able to use some of the equipment you have in your workshop?

Deuce: Of course, we will fully reimburse you for its usage…

Workshop Owner: What did you say…?

Workshop Owner: YOU HAVE SOME NERVE ASKING THAT!

Ortho: EH!? This guy seems really angry…

Workshop Owner: You'd run around with all those punks, causing ruckuses in the middle of the night and destroying all sorts of things…

Workshop Owner: Do you even understand just how much pain and suffering you caused the people of this town?

Workshop Owner: Deila-san came to apologize for you so many times, but that doesn't mean squat here. Get out of here, already!!!

Deuce: I AM SO SORRY FOR ALL OF THE TROUBLE I CAUSED BACK THEN!!

Deuce: I know that I have no right to make this kind of request. But I really want to help my classmate make a rabbit costume!

Workshop Owner: Your classmate? What does my workshop have to do with their costume, in the first place…?

Ortho: Nice to meet you, I am Ortho Shroud. I'm a humanoid!

Ortho: I'm a classmate of Deuce-san at Night Raven College.

Workshop Owner: A h-humanoid?

Ortho: Yep! I really wanted a white rabbit outfit so that I could take part in the White Rabbit Festival…

Ortho: But I can't wear clothes like a living person can, so I want to make my own special gear to wear.

Workshop Owner: I've seen a few human-like robots in my time, but not one that can as eloquent as you!

Workshop Owner: And on top of that, you want to participate in Clock Town's famed White Rabbit Festival. Hmmm, what should I do…

Workshop Owner: Wait, nope, no way! If I let Deuce use my workshop, he'll totally destroy it!

Ortho: DEUCE SPADE-SAN WOULD NEVER DO ANYTHING LIKE THAT!!!

Deuce: Ortho…

Ortho: Do you truly believe that Deuce-san would actually come face-to-face to talk to you like this, hoping you'd let down your guard?

Ortho: THERE'S NO WAY DEUCE-SAN IS SMART ENOUGH TO COME UP WITH THAT KIND OF CUNNING STRATEGY!

Workshop Owner: …When you put it that way, I guess it's true that he used to just show up out of nowhere and just tear about.

Workshop Owner: Does that mean you guys truly came here to just ask for the favor of using my workshop?

Ortho: That's right! Please, mister! Please let us use your workshop!!

Workshop Owner: Sigh… Fine. Out of respect for the little humanoid boy, I'll let you use my workshop just this once.

Ortho/Deuce: THANK YOU VERY MUCH!!

Workshop Owner: That doesn't mean I trust you, Deuce. Don't get me wrong.

Workshop Owner: If you get even one scratch on any of my machines, I won't let you get off so easy!!!

Deuce: I understand.

Workshop Owner: Tch… If word got out that I was letting someone like you in, that'd be bad for my own reputation.

Workshop Owner: You don't need to pay anything. Instead, just do what you came to do and leave as fast as you can.

Workshop Owner: Go and enter the shop from the rear entrance. You know where that is, right? Be quick about it.

[slams door]

Ortho: …Deuce Spade-san, are you alright? Even I can tell just from looking at you that you seem down.

Deuce: Maybe it's more… self-loathing than just being down.

Deuce: I enrolled in Night Raven College and have been aiming to be a model student, and I've been trying really hard with my club activities…

Deuce: I thought I had changed a ton, but that doesn't change my past, y'know?

Ortho: By the past, do you mean what he said about "running around with all those punks, causing ruckuses in the middle of the night and destroying all sorts of things"?

Deuce: Uhhhh… Please forget you heard about that! Also, I'd really like it if you didn't tell anyone else what happened just now.

Deuce: And my mom, too… I don't want to cause her any extra worry.

Ortho: Uh-huh, so it's that sort of thing. I got it. I can keep this a secret from the others.

Ortho: But in exchange, I'll have you help me with crating my new gear.

Deuce: Yeah, of course I will. Leave it to me.

Deuce: …But man, you're amazing, Ortho. I can't believe you persuaded him.

Deuce: You saw how angry he was, right? I totally thought he wouldn't let us use his workshop at all.

Ortho: I calculated that since he was running a blastcycle parts shop, then he'd probably have an interest in machines or robots.

Ortho: That's why I tried to appeal to him as a humanoid, to pique his curiosity.

Deuce: …Now that you mention it, I feel like his whole attitude changed when you mentioned you were a humanoid.

Deuce: …You calculated that, huh. I'm not really good at thinking and planning ahead.

Deuce: Even everything that happened just now is the result of me causing trouble for those around me without thinking things through back in middle school…

Ortho: Deuce Spade-san…

Ortho: You can do your thinking later! Right now, we need to get my gear done as quick as possible and go join the others!

Deuce: You're right, especially since he said to be quick about it… Let's hurry before he changes his mind!

[Clock Town – Clock Park]

Deuce: I sent [Yuu] a message saying where and when we're meeting up, but… They haven't read it at all.

Ortho: Maybe they haven't had the time to look at their phone, since Grim-san just keeps dragging them everywhichway.

Deuce: Can't be helped, guess we should go look for them. I wouldn't think they'd have gone that far, though...

???: NOM NOM NOM NOM!! Funyaaa～ I can't get enough of that strong flavor.

Ortho: Ah, that's Grim-san's voice. That saves us from having to search the whole park.

Deuce: Yeah, it helps that Grim's really loud.

Deuce: Heeey! [Yuu], Grim!

Grim: Hm? Oh, it's Deuce. Nice of you to come looking for me!

Deuce: Wrong! You're the one who ran off on your own, so we were all doing our own things right now.

Deuce: So, in about an hour, we're all going to meet up at the stall we were at earlier, okay? You better not be late.

1. I want you to show me around.

Deuce: Eh, me? Can I even do that…? But, sure, I guess. We can check out the area together.

2. We should wander around together!

Deuce: With me? …Yeah, okay!

Grim: Whew, that was delish～

Deuce: Looks like Grim just finished eating, too, so let's head off.

Deuce: [Yuu], is there something you want to see or do?

1. I want to look at souvenirs!

Deuce: I think I saw some stalls selling various stuff. Want to go check them out?

2. I want to move around some to help digest my food.

Deuce: I saw a stall a bit ago that had some kind of mini-game set up. Want to try it out?

Ortho: Sounds fun! I want to go with you guys too.

Deuce: Yeah, come along. That'll make it more lively and fun!

Deuce: They've got a ton of shops set up here, so the four of us can see all sorts of stuff!

[cheering on a street performer]

Grim: Nyahaha, that's so cool! That's way more amazing than Ace's magic tricks!

Deuce: You really like those street performances, huh. It looks like it'll go on for a little bit longer, but… Maybe we should move on now?

Grim: Ehhh, I want to keep watching.

Ortho: I haven't seen many street performances, so I think I'll stay and watch some more too.

Deuce: Okay. Then [Yuu] and I'll head off and check some other places out.

Deuce: We can meet up at where we were earlier when the time comes.

Grim/Ortho: Yeah! / Understood!

Deuce: Okay, then lets head over there.

Passerby A: Oh my, what cute outfits. Are you two from around here?

Deuce: Ah, yes, I'm from here.

Deuce: I just came home to visit with my classmates for the White Rabbit Festival…

Passerby A: Oh, so you're a Clock Town local. Then, I guess there's no need to warn you.

Deuce: Warn me? Eh, did something happen?

Passerby A: Well, not necessarily something, but… you know?

Passerby B: If you're from this city, then you should know, right? That there's been some bad characters running around.

Passerby A: It must have been what, 3… maybe 4 years ago? Anyway, a while ago, this terrible hooligan showed up.

Deuce: A terrible hooligan?

Passerby B: You never heard of them? Well, you two look like you were raised properly, so I suppose I'm not surprised you don't know.

Passerby B: There's this ill-tempered hooligan with bleach-blonde hair and a scary glare who'd ride up and down the city on their blastcycle at breakneck speeds.

Passerby A: I heard that whenever they got into a fight, they'd summon a cauldron and squash their opponents flat. Aah, so scary!

Deuce: URK!

Passerby B: I haven't heard anything about them recently, but… I can't imagine such a horrible hoodlum would've been able to fix their behavior.

Passerby A: Same. It was so bad that there even was a police officer who would always go on patrol even when off-duty.

Passerby A: Anyway, they are a troublesome delinquent. You two, take care so you don't get caught in their crosshairs.

Deuce: R-Right… Thank you.

Deuce: Whew, they finally left. Those ladies were really something.

1. That story just now… 2. Was that…

Deuce: Urgh, and I was trying to change the topic…

Deuce: Well, whatever. It's just you here, anyway.

Deuce: I think the person those ladies were talking about earlier was me.

Deuce: It's been a while since I enrolled in Night Raven College, but… I'm still being talked about.

Deuce: "I can't imagine they'd be able to fix their behavior" …Hm.

1. Even though we can see that's not true.

Deuce: Are you trying to cheer me up? Thanks, [Yuu].

2. It's hard to gain people's trust.

Deuce: You're right, it's just as you say.

Deuce: …Actually, I was told the same thing just a bit ago when Ortho and I went to the workshop next door to my house.

Deuce: I guess both the people who have met me before and those who haven't don't think that I could ever have fixed myself up.

Deuce: …But I have people outside of my family that believe in me.

Deuce: Remember what those ladies said? There was a police officer who would go on patrol even when they were off-duty.

Deuce: They worked over there… In the police station across the street from the park. And for some reason, they actually looked out for me.

1. Does that person still work at that police station?

Deuce: Nah, they transferred to a different city some time ago. I hear they've climbed the ranks and is some big wig now.

2. Let's go show them how much you've changed!

Deuce: As much as I'd like to… Deuce: They transferred to a different city some time ago. I hear they've climbed the ranks and is some big wig now.

Deuce: Isn't that awesome, though!? I wish I could have said bye to them back when they transferred, but… Back then I was just too hard-headed.

Deuce: I had decided that if I ever got to meet that person again someday, I would show them just how much I had cleaned myself up…

Deuce: But it hasn't really gone as planned.

Deuce: Even today, I wanted you guys to enjoy yourselves in my hometown…

Deuce: But I don't know anything about my city, and can't even show you around properly.

Deuce: And it wasn't until Epel said that I didn't have enough pride in my hometown, that I thought I should study up on the place…

Deuce: I thought I had changed, but maybe I haven't grown up after all.

1. That's not true… 2. (I don't know what to say...)

Deuce: Sorry! I didn't mean to talk about this sort of thing when we're at a festival.

Deuce: It's almost time to meet up with everyone else. Let's head back there.

[Clock Town – Clock Park]

―After the conflict with the Black Bunnies

Deuce: Okay, then I'll go register us, so everyone wait here.

Ortho/Epel: Got it.

Silver: Right.

Grim: I'll go with you. I worry leaving it to you alone, Deuce.

1. Yeah, I agree. 2. I'll go too.

Deuce: I don't know how I feel about Grim worrying about me, but… Thanks for coming with.

Deila: The registration for the Rabbit Run Race is near the entrance to the park.

Deila: All three of you, take care over there.

Deuce: There's the entrance to the park. Uhh, let's see, where's registration…?

Grim: Isn't that it?

Deuce: You're right… EH!?

Deuce: There's a line. There's a lot more people doing this than I thought there'd be…

Deuce: Well, whatever. Let's just line up at the very back.

???: WHAT SHOULD WE DO? AT THIS RATE, WE CAN'T REGISTER FOR THE RACE!

Grim: What's goin' on?

Workshop Employee: I thought I put it in my bag, but… My rabbit ears, where could I have left them?

Workshop Owner: Rabbit ears? Oh… Do you mean the headband that was left on the 3D printer back at the workshop?

Workshop Owner: Even if we were to run back to the shop now, we won't make it back in time to register...

Workshop Owner: It's a shame, but I guess we have to give up on participating in the race this year.

Deuce: On a 3D printer in the workshop… Ah, maybe it's the one I saw when Ortho and I were working on the printer just a while ago?

Deuce: Maybe… Maybe I can help her out with magic.

Deuce: I never got to thank him for using the workshop, either… I guess I can go talk to them.

Deuce: Ah, excuse me.

Workshop Employee: Yes? …Eek, Deuce-kun!?

Workshop Owner: Now what do you want? What, are you trying to harm my employee or something?

Deuce: No, not at all! I overheard that she left her headband, and…

Deuce: I'll summon it for you with magic! That way, you can register for the race, right?

Workshop Owner: You'll summon it with magic? Can someone like you who only has the brains to cause havoc really do something like that?

Deuce: I'm not that confident, but I think I can at least summon… But I still mess that up sometimes, too… But I'm going to try!

Grim: …I don't know how good this’ll go.

Deuce: Sh-Shut it! I have to focus, so be quiet.

Deuce: [inhale, exhale] …

Deuce: COME FORTH, RABBIT EAR HEADBAND!!

[rabbit ear headband magically appears]

Deuce: It's the same design as the one I saw in the workshop earlier. That means…

1. Congrats! 2. You did it!

Deuce: Yeah! I'm so glad it worked out.

Deuce: This is your headband, right? Please accept it.

Workshop Employee: …

Grim: This lady's completely frozen in her tracks… Maybe she's terrified of you!!

Deuce: Eh!? Oh no, is it because I just suddenly called out to you? Sorry, I shouldn't have done that…

Workshop Owner: I can't believe that that Deuce just successfully summoned something, and even took care to think of my employee's feelings…

[FLASHBACK]

Deila: Hey, listen to this! Deuce has been really motivated ever since enrolling in Night Raven College.

Deila: Just the other day, he sent me a picture of a certificate that he won as an award at a track meet.

Deila: It… does look like he's having a bit of a hard time with his studies and magic, though. But he's doing is best in the only way he knows how.

Deila: And recently, he's been really considerate, saying stuff like, "Aren't you tired?" and "Don't push yourself too hard"…

Deila: Sounds like he's made some good friends, too. I'm truly happy that he's enjoying himself every single day over there.

Workshop Owner: …Looks like Deila-san was telling the truth.

Deuce: Eh? Did my mom say something?

Workshop Owner: Yeah. She said that you had a change of heart and are doing your best now.

Deuce: My mom said that…?

Workshop Owner: Honestly, I couldn't believe that you actually cleaned yourself up, no matter what Deila-san said…

Workshop Owner: You've convinced me, Deuce. Thanks to you, my coworkers and I can enter the race.

Deuce: Since I couldn't thank you earlier for letting us use your workshop… I'm glad that I was able to be of help here.

Workshop Owner: Oh, don't worry, there's still a lot that you need to pay me back for.

Workshop Owner: But for today, you did good. Hey now, you thank him, too!

Workshop Employee: …Thank you for helping me. And, sorry for being scared of you!

Deuce: And I'm sorry for suddenly calling out to you and scaring you, too.

Workshop Owner: You're going to join the race too, right? Let's all do our best!

Deuce: YES, SIR!

Deuce: I "convinced" him… Huh.

1. You did it! 2. That's great.

Deuce: Yeah. I was worried that I hadn't matured at all, but… Thanks to that, I'm feeling a bit better.

Deuce: To be perfectly honest, I planned on just coming back here by myself.

Deuce: After swinging by to see my mom and the festival real quick, I was just going to jump on my blastcycle and go for a ride.

Deuce: If you, Grim or the others hadn't come with, I don't think I would have had a chance to talk with people in town.

Deuce: So… Uh, yeah, thanks for coming here with me!

Grim: Heheh, least I could do.

Deuce: For everyone who came here with me... And also for my mom, there's no way that I can lose this race.

Deuce: We'll definitely win! [Yuu], watch me go!

Requested by Anonymous.

[storm-angel989]

Ooooh, How about a Vee's (highschool) daughter halloween fic Plz! :3

Hi friend,

Wow, talk about a quick inspiration! And so very on brand with yesterday being Halloween <3

I know I haven't posted much-grief is a funny thing. Know that I'm still here, taking it day by day as fast or slow as I can.

Enjoy!

<3

Mandy

The First Halloween

Halloween in hell was vastly different than Halloween on Earth.

A younger version of Valentino delighted in the chaos and tricks that rained over Pentagram city every October first. After all, the carnage always ended up strengthening his bank account- whores didn’t come cheap, after all. But having a baby, much less having a baby with a former angel, changed all that. 

“I don’t see why she needs this experience,” Valentino complained to his wife as she zipped up the front of his infant daughter's pumpkin costume. “Going around, begging for candy from total strangers. It’s silly.”

“You never went trick or treating?” His wife asked as she picked up the now babbling child pumpkin. “Even as a kid?”

Ha. As if he had ever had the choice to have that experience. There was so little his wife knew about his life on Earth- and that was intentional. She didn’t need to know what he had gone through, the things he had seen. It didn’t matter, after all. There was nothing he could do about it now, and reliving the past wouldn’t change it. All he needed to do was to be sure his daughter never suffered the same fate. 

“It wasn’t really an option, not where I grew up,” he responded as lightly as he could. “And besides, I just don’t see the point…”

“The point is to have fun and make memories,” she responded firmly. “Speaking of, go put on your costume.” 

There were very few places in their relationship where Valentino drew the line. It just so happened that Halloween costumes were one of them. 

“Mi amore, I am not dressing up like a pumpkin. It’s bad enough I have to wear my human form on Halloween night,” he told her firmly. “I will go trick or treating, and I will carry the grotesque plastic pumpkin to gather the candy. But I will not dress up. End of discussion.”

She rolled her eyes in response, but didn’t argue as she lifted up their daughter, settling her against her own bright orange shirt, painted with black jack-o-lantern eyes. 

“Fine, but open up the portal. I want to be home before dark.”

At that, Valentino obliged. A quick turn of the green glowing stone- a temporary loan from Asmodeus, Sin of Lust himself, and a black portal appeared. A burst of red light and Valentino himself turned from his demon self to a human, a chosen self vastly different from the human body he wore in life. 

“Let’s do this,” Valentino grimaced as he took her hand.

She hesitated and Valentino could feel the disapproval in her eyes as she  looked him over. For the briefest of moments, Valentino was sure she was backing out of this whole silly thing. 

“Val, you can’t go out like that. You look like a pimp.” she said finally. 

“Bebita, I am a pimp,” he replied patiently. “This is what I always wear.”

“Go put on jeans, and an orange shirt at the very least,” she told him. “Come on, for the pictures. For the baby.” 

For anyone else, Valentino would have refused. Thrown a temper tantrum. Smacked them, even. But for his wife? He just sighed, turned and walked to their bedroom. A few moments later, he returned dressed in her requested outfit. 

At that moment, Velvette walked in the door. A glance to him, a glance to his wife. One snarky comment and a glimmer of purple later, and a black jack-o-lantern face appeared on his orange shirt, matching his wifes. 

“Much better,” she commented. “Have fun kids. Vox and I are going out.”

Every inch of Valentino wished he could join them. Instead, he took his wife's hand and through the portal they went. 

Three hours, countless houses and a plethora of pictures later, Valentino dumped the bag of candy onto the kitchen table while his wife settled the baby in the other room. The clamoring of doors snapped him to attention and he turned to see Vox and Velvette walking in the door, a wicked grin on both their faces. 

“Have a good time?” Valentino asked as he began to sort through the pile of sugar. 

“Meh, it was fine,” Vox said as he reached over to grab a treat from the pile. “Not as much fun without you. Or as profitable, for that matter.”

“Next year, why don’t you just join us?” Valentino asked sarcastically. 

To his surprise both shrugged in response. 

“It’s not out of the question,” Velvette said as she perched on the countertop. “I mean, it was rather boring. Same routine year after year- could use a little spice. Toss me a kit kat.”

“I wouldn’t call trick or treating with a baby spicy,” Valentino said drily as he tossed the requested candy. “But you’re welcome to join.” 

The Fourth Halloween

Never did Valentino ever expect to come to enjoy the holiday he so detested as a child. The memories of him hearing about kids older than him, watching handmade or store bought costumes shine while he was lucky enough to find clean clothes that morning. Of staying in the dark house at night while his mother kept him locked up to prevent him from engaging in what she called “the devil’s holiday”. How ironic, really, was it that he ended up an overlord in hell. 

“I want you to be Daddy Shark for Halloween,” his daughter requested at the turn of September. “And Momma be Mommy Shark. And Uncle Voxxy and Auntie Vel to be Auntie and Uncle Shark!”

His initial reaction was to buckle. To protest and refuse.But as with most things, when it came to her, it wasn’t in his nature to say no. So somehow, by the grace of his daughters big blue eyes, a few “Daddy Pleases” and Auntie Velvette’s sewing machine, the overlord of lust and depravity found himself in his human form on October 31st, dressed in an incredibly warm, overly tight dark blue shark suit. 

“Aw, see? Family costumes are cute, Val!” his wife cooed as she kissed his cheek. 

Cute wasn’t the word for it. He shuddered to think what would happen if the world ever saw three powerful overlords dressed as sharks at the bid of a child. And he hoped beyond hope that his wife was correct- the phones she took truly were private to them and them alone. 

“Let’s just go,” he grumbled as he adjusted his fin. 

His daughter reached for him, a tiny yellow shark held by Vox’s blue and red finned arms.

“Daddy carry me!” She demanded. “Daddy! Want. Daddy.” 

“Someone, please bring the stroller,” Valentino grumbled as he cradled the child to him. “I’m not carrying her all night.”

“You’re gonna have to- we’re going to need the space for all the candy!” Velvette said cheerfully from inside her purple shark costume. “Come on, let’s go!” 

The Sixteenth Halloween

“What do you mean you don’t want to go trick or treating?” Valentino demanded of his daughter. “We go every year, it's a tradition.”

His daughter looked up from where she lay on the couch, phone in hand. 

“I mean, it's kinda lame dad. I’m too old to dress up and beg for candy. And besides, all my friends are meeting at 666 for a Halloween party. I’d rather go there.” 

And just like that, the tradition Valentino had come to adore crumbled before his eyes. Nevermind the fact that 666 was his own club, he’d rather she and her friends get wasted where he could keep a close eye on them. Though, from her attitude lately, he suspected if she ever knew he sat above the scene, watching for any sign of trouble, 666 would cease to be her favorite haunt. 

“Oh, and don’t worry about my costume, I ordered one online and it came yesterday. Aunt Vel is making some minor adjustments, but it will be ready by tonight. All my friends and I are going to match.” She announced as her phone alarm went off, signaling it was time for her to leave for school. She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Love you dad, see you later.” 

Valentino couldn’t believe what he was hearing. In haste, he called his wife, Vox and Velvette in that order. To his surprise, none of them seemed concerned. 

“I mean, it's only normal that she'd want to hang with her friends. Besides, you hate Halloween,” his wife reminded him. “You complain every year.”

Valentino clenched his teeth, “that doesn’t mean I don’t like her participating. It’s safe. We’re all there with her.”

“She’s safe in your club,” Vox reminded him on the second phone call. “That’s the entire reason we curated it the way we did.” 

“And don’t forget what you were doing before you had a kid. We can get back to that. Make higher profits,” Velvette added during the third and final call. “Don’t worry Val. And don’t take it personally.” 

Valentino snapped the hang up button, as he had done with the other two at their first sign of disagreement. How was it that not a single one of them were concerned that their baby was choosing to spend Halloween in a club instead of getting candy? He stood up from where he sat at the kitchen table and yanked on his coat as he made his way to the club. If she wasn’t going to trick or treat, he would at least make sure she spent Halloween getting treats and no tricks. 

From the suite above the dance floor, Valentino had seen and could see everything. Girls dressed in little more than underpants. Desperate men in thrown together costumes. Demons from all circles of hell gathered to celebrate the spookiest night of the year. As he surveyed the scene cautiously, he checked the tracker Vox had installed on his daughter's phone. She should be walking in right about now.

“Hey, is she here yet?” His wife’s voice asked as her arms wrapped around his neck, kissing him softly as she leaned on his shoulder. 

“No, not yet,” he scowled as a group of demons dressed in bunny ears and what he constituted as lingerie, made their way across the club floor. He glanced at his phone. “Stupid thing must be glitching, it says she just walked in.”

“Baby, she did. She’s right there,” she pointed at the crowd of scantily clad demons. “The blonde in the center is her.” 

Valentino was on his feet in an instant as fury swelled through him. Control began to slip and slowly his teeth turned into sharp red points as his overlord form creeped out. Just the thought, let alone the sight of his daughter out in public, dressed like….dressed like…

“Hey, stop. Don’t you even,” his wife snapped as she grabbed his arm. “Val, take a breath.”

“She cannot be out in public dressed like that,” he hissed. 

“Listen, babe. You go down there, let alone looking like like that, and reveal to her that this is your club, you lose the place where you can keep an eye on her. She’ll go somewhere new and…”

“And I’ll buy that club too, if I don’t already own it,” Valentino snapped as he tried to yank his arm out of her grasp. “She can’t be walking around like…” 

“Valentino,” Vox’s calm voice came from the doorway. “You’re not seriously thinking of wrecking a perfectly profitable night, are you?”

Valentino knew better than to look up and see the swirling red and blue eye displayed on Vox’s screen. 

“Vox, that's your niece out there, your niece dressed like…”

“Dressed like what? I outfitted her. The costume she brought online? Total garbage,” Velvette’s voice drifted through the room as she strode in. “Every girl needs a costume like that. She looks fabulous.”

“My daughter doesn’t,” Valentino snapped. “And I don’t appreciate..” 

“Oh come on Val. Are you telling us you never dressed up in questionable costumes as a human teenager? Or went after girls dressed like slutty versions of animals?” Vox teased. “Come on…” 

“I didn’t celebrate Halloween,” Valentino snapped.

All three adults in the room turned and stared at him. 

“Wait, what? Not even when you were little?” Velvette asked. 

“Heck, my father ran the angelic military unit and even I celebrated halloween,” his wife added. “We went down to Earth and…”

“This is besides the point,” Valentino said sharply. “My daughter is not…”

“Your daughter is fine. Sure, she’s a little…scantily clad, but Val, she’s safe.” Vox cut him off. “So again, take a breath.”

Valentino let out a huff and turned away from the group. “It’s not just that. It’s…” He paused as he tried to collect his thoughts and instead, they became more garbled. He stood in silence, watching the scene below. 

“Hey, I’m sad to see our tradition change too,” his wife said softly, slipping her arm in his as she laid her head on his shoulder. “But hey, she’s still our kid. For a few more years at least. And besides, she’s under our watch.”

“What happens then?” Valentino asked quietly. “She grows up, she moves away….”

“We have a long time before any of that,” she reassured him gently. “For now, enjoy the show.”

Valentino raised an eyebrow as he continued to watch the scene below unfold. “What show? Our daughter is not a show, and I’ll be dammed....” 

“Just you watch. We taught her well.”

Below him, a scream of anger on a sopping wet demon. His daughter, laughing and holding an empty glass. Words Valentino never expected to be hurled at his daughter from the mouth of the demon. He didn’t have to give security orders to remove him- he was already being hauled out the door. 

“Guess she really can handle herself,” Valentino muttered. He bent down and kissed his wife's hand. 

“She better, she’s got at least six more halloweens like this one if she’s anything like you.” She teased.

[sephirthoughts]

Do I even have to say anything about why I ship them? It just happened, and I still don't know why. XD

Ah, man, I think you can already guess who I'm talking about, but Reeve and that Haunted Hotel Bellhop? That's my weirdest ship so far.

That, or Daraen (Fire Embelm Awakening) and Cloud. For them it's just the vibes. Also, white haired protagonist who's haunted by an ancient evil falling for the blond guy who's haunted by a silver haired new evil is just funny to me. XD

i don't actually know what fire emblem awakening is even so reeve bellhop it is!! 😂

This wound up being…well, pretty much exactly as silly as I expected.

"Now, Ollie, it's not nice to pull off other people's bandages. No, no, don't put them in your—and they're in her mouth." Benjamin sighed, as he attempted to tug the long strip of cloth out of her hands. "Well now they're all soaked in your baby slime. How am I supposed to put them back on?"

"Pfffbbt bah gah bah!" Ollie argued, flatly refusing to relinquish her interesting new toy.

"Why don't you just leave them off," Nero suggested, from where he was lying on the couch. "Who are you worried about seeing you, here?"

Benjamin opened is mouth to reply, but Reeve and Vincent came downstairs, at that moment.

"Oh, hey, Benjamin," Reeve said, looking surprised. "You're really handsome, without the bandages hiding your face."

"Thank you," Nero answered, at which everyone looked at him. "What? We're identical."

"You're right. You're both very handsome," Reeve chuckled.

Benjamin was already holding Oliie in front of his face, like a human shield, so he didn't see Reeve look over at him, again, as he and Vincent went out the front door.

It was nice of Mr. Tuesti to say he was handsome, but he knew how ugly the blue-black darkness cracks in his face were. He'd scared enough kids and teenagers and full-grown adults to be fully aware of his hideousness, before the age of ten.

The cherry on top of that self-esteem issue sundae was when he'd been deemed too scary looking for the job he'd applied to. The job as a bellhop at the Haunted Hotel. Where part of the gig was literally scaring people.

His friend helped him put together his mummy-bellhop costume, which conveniently featured a lot of facial bandages, and his application was finally approved by management (with the additional caveat that he also had to wear contacts to make his cat-slit pupils appear round).

He didn't resent the bandages, though. They were his armor. People laughed and smiled, when he had them on, rather than averting their eyes or staring in horror. When they screamed, it was because he dropped out of the ceiling and spooked them, on purpose. It felt good to have control over how people react to you, after a lifetime of evoking terror, through no fault of your own.

"I approve," Nero said, apropos of nothing, after Vincent and Mr. Tuesti had gone.

Benjamin looked up. "Huh?"

"Reeve. I approve. You may date him."

"I…you…he…WHAT??"

"BWAH??" Ollie squawked, mimicking Benjamin's exclamation.

"He obviously likes you. He's a little old but he's hot, and he's a good person. Hence, I approve."

"I don't—Mr. Tuesti doesn't like me like that, are you insane?"

"Legally, clinically, and literally, yes. But that doen't mean I'm blind and stupid. That man is into you. It's a fact."

"What's a fact," Sephiroth asked, as he entered the living room.

"Reeve likes Benny."

"Hm." Sephiroth considered this for a moment. "I approve. You may date him."

Benjamin was absolutely beside himself. "What are you—I didn't ask for approval! Or permission! And I'm not dating anyone!!"

At that very moment, the front door opened and Vincent re-entered. Behind him, Reeve popped his head in. "Hey, Benjamin, could I talk to you in private for a sec?"

"Um, s—sure, Mr. Tuesti, I'll be right there."

Ollie staunchly hung onto the bandage, and not wanting to risk a tanrum, Benjamin gave up and handed her over to Sephiroth. Ignoring Nero's meaningful look, he followed Reeve out the front door.

Nero turned to Sephiroth. "I'll bet you a hundred gil—"

"No wager necessary. It's a certainty."

"Guh guh guh guh," Ollie burbled, cheerfully saturating the bandage with more drool.

Several long minutes passed, then Benjamin returned, and sat down on the floor, where he'd been, as if nothing had happened. Three pairs of eyes stared at him, till he couldn't sit still anymore.

"I'm going to the engineering expo with him, on Saturday, and he's taking me to dinner afterward. Are you happy?"

"Ha! He did ask him out!!" Nero gloated. "You owe me a hundred gil, Sephi!"

Sephiroth rolled his eyes. "I didn't accept the wager, and I agreed with you. Congratulations on your date, Benjamin. I hope you have a lovely time."

"It's not a date!" Benjamin insisted.

"What kind of dorks go on a date at an engineering expo," Nero chortled. "You and Reeve are two peas in a nerd-pod, aren't you."

"But it's just an activity and a meal. That's not a date. Is it?"

"An activity and a meal is generally considered a date, Benjamin," said Vincent, who had reappeared at some point.

"Bahbuh mabaga," Ollie put in sagely, offering Benjamin back his drool-soaked bandage.

"Thanks. I'll just…wash that first."

"If you're too nervous, I'm willing to disguise myself as you and serve as your substitute."

"You giant jackass, who are you gonna fool?" Nero scoffed. "If anyone's going on Benny's date in disguise, I am."

"No one's going on my date in diguise! I mean—not date!!"

"What's that? Benny got a date?" Cid's voice called, from the stairwell.

Benjamin sighed, dropping his head despondently into his hands. "Yes. I…I'm going on a date."