#i never give them food bc That's Bad (and illegal i think)

[sga-owns-my-soul]

my biggest flex as a canadian is that not only am i not afraid of canadian geese, but i regularly approach them with zero issues

[xjulixred45x]

In the crossover between Dead Plate and My Child Lebensborn, what measures would Rody and Vince take with the Professor Solheim matter? What legal (and illegal) means would they take against him?

TW: MENTION/IMPLICATION OF CSA, PTSD ON CHILDREN, MURDER, ETC.

Ow man...

First of all, I don't think that either Vince or Rody would go unnoticed by the changes in attitude in their respective children, but definitely at the beginning they thought it was because of the Bullying issue than anything else (although they knew about Professor Solheim thanks to the bad guys). moments they put the kids through before this, you can tell they hated it before).

Surprisingly I think Rody might be the first to think that something is wrong with Klaus at school. Rody is much more trustworthy than Vince, so it wouldn't be strange if out of the blue Klaus tells Rody that he doesn't want to go to school or that he doesn't specifically want to go to Professor Solheim's classes.

Rody finds it strange at first, but soon realizes that Klaus wouldn't ask to skip school if something really bad was going on (not just bullying). this + when Klaus starts having clear PTSD episodes, make Rody not let Klaus go to school and have a serious talk with him.

When does Rody find out? God, he's devastated to hear Klaus telling him what happened and repeating that it's not his fault and he's right! It's not Klaus' fault. Rody focuses on comforting his little brother and letting him know that he shouldn't hide things like that, that he loves him and is sorry he couldn't prevent this, etc. In general, both of them crying together for a long time.

As for the actions Rody would take against Solheim, it's canon that he would hide a body for Manon, so I can see him going to kick Solheim's ass and even threatening him to never go near Klaus again. and this guy is STRONG (canonically he could break your arm by ACCIDENT, imagine what he could do on purpose), so he won't be satisfied unless Solheim has at least 5 broken bones.

(I can't go into much detail about the legality because Rody is broke bad, but maybe he could convince the other parents to file a class action lawsuit, also being the 60s I don't think Rody would want to put Klaus in that situation or re-traumatize him, SO i think that's all that he would do, not because he wants to, but bc it's all he can do).

Vincent, on the other hand, would take longer to notice the warning signs, since while he is observant, he is also constantly busy during the events of the game, so probably the closest thing he would have to a direct signal would be a of Karin's nannies said that she is acting strange.

and Vince begins to notice these more abrupt changes, how Karin is now more reserved and even rude, how she almost doesn't talk to him anymore (it would take an EMBARRASSING amount of time), etc.

although the definitive warning sign for Vince would be 1) that Karin doesn't want to be bathed and 2) that she doesn't even want to eat. He knows that SOMETHING happened and that Karin is too traumatized to say it, but she is giving him quite direct signals, which leads him to realize what happened, horrified.

Vince is definitely more clumsy when it comes to comforting Karin, but he doesn't lack desire. He mainly tries to comfort her by giving her her favorite foods and giving her a free pass to do whatever she wants (skip school, eat outside food, etc.). and even trying to be more physically affectionate (mainly giving her more hugs, this experience definitely made him realize how much he misses that side of Karin).

As for Solheim...he will be lucky if Vince decides to take the LEGAL route (if that were the case, Solheim would never come out of it, since with how well-known Vince is, public opinion would definitely DESTROY Solheim if Vince don't do it first). Vince tends to be erratic at times like this, so it would be very easy for him to get rid of Solheim PERMANENTLY, it's better that way, he wouldn't have to worry about it hurting Karin anymore.

I think Vincent would feel more guilty than he lets on, precisely because Karin doesn't even feel comfortable telling him what exactly happened (she probably explains it with drawings) and would try to improve his pedagogical skills based on this.

Rody is really just doing his best and still doesn't feel like enough, plus he's probably going to dump all this guilt and bad feelings on Solheim (with a good beating), and ressure Klaus about that 1) it's not His fault and 2) he loves him nonetheless.

Mind you, I don't think either of them will let Karin/Klaus go to school anytime soon, good luck with that.

In general, they both react differently, but they will do ANYTHING to get Solheim out of the picture and give the kids peace/closure.

BONUS: MANON

She would definitely be the one who found out first! (whether being with Rody or babysitting for Vince), she has both Rody's sweetness and Vince's questionable methods (time to make Rody hide the body...)

____

(ESPAÑOL)

TW: MENCION/IMPLICACION DE ABU$O SEXUAL INFANTIL, TEPT EN NIÑOS, ASESINATO, ETC.

Hombre....

primero que nada, no creo que ni Vince ni Rody pasarian por desapercibido los cambios de actitud en sus respectivos niños, pero definitivamente al principio pensaban que era por la cuestion del Bullying que por otra cosa(aunque ellos sabian del profesor Solheim gracias a los malos momentos que hicieron pasar a los niños antes de esto, puedes decir que lo odiaban desde antes).

Sorprendentemente creo que Rody podria ser el primero en pensar que algo anda mal con Klaus en la escuela. Rody da mucha mas confianza que Vince, por lo que no seria raro si de la nada Klaus le dice a Rody que no quiere ir a la escuela o que puntualmente no quiere ir a las clases del profesor Solheim.

Rody lo encuentra raro al principio, pero pronto se da cuenta de que Klaus no pediria faltar a la escuela si realmente algo malo estuviera pasando(no solo el Bullying). esto + cuando Klaus empieza a tener episodios claros de PTSD, hacen que Rody no deje que Klaus vaya a la escuela y tenga una charla seria con el.

¿cuando Rody se entera? dios, esta destrozado de escuchar a Klaus decirle lo que paso y repitiendo que no es su culpa ¡y tiene razon! no es culpa de Klaus. Rody se centra en consolar a su hermanito y hacerle saber que no debe ocultar ese tipo de cosas, que lo ama y lamenta no haber podido evitar esto, etc. en general ambos llorando juntos un buen rato.

en cuanto a las acciones que tomaria Rody en contra de Solheim, es canon que el ocultaria un cuerpo por Manon, asi que puedo verlo llendo a patearle el trasero a Solheim e incluso amenazandole con no acercarse a Klaus nunca mas. y este sujeto es FUERTE(canónicamente podria romperte el brazo por ACCIDENTE, imagínate lo que podria hacer adrede), asi que no estara sarisfecho a menos que Solheim tenga 5 huesos rotos, por lo menos.

(no puedo profundizar mucho en lo legal porque Rody esta en quiebra, pero talvez podria convencer a los demas padres para presentar una demanda colectiva, igualmente siendo los 60s no creo que Rody quisiera poner a Klaus en esa situación o re-traumatizarlo).

Vincent, por otro lado, tardaria mas en darse cuenta de las señales de alerta, ya que si bien es observador, tambien esta constantemente ocupado durante los eventos del juego, por lo que probablemente lo mas cercano que tendria a una señal directa seria que una de las nannys de Karin dijera que ella esta actuando extraño.

y Vince empieza a notar estos cambios mas bruscos, el como Karin ahora es mas reservada e incluso grosera, el como casi ya no le habla(le tomaria una cantidad VERGONZOSA de tiempo), etc.

aunque la señal de alerta definitiva para Vince seria el 1) el que Karin no quiere que la bañen y 2) que ella nisiquiera quiera comer. el sabe que ALGO paso y que Karin esta muy traumada para decirlo, pero le esta dando señales bastante directas, lo que lleva a que se de cuenta de lo que paso, horrorizado.

Vince es definitivamente mas torpe a la hora de consolar a Karin, pero no le faltan ganas. principalmente trata de reconfortarla dandole sus comidas favoritas y dandole pase libre para hacer lo que quiera(faltar a la escuela, comer comida de afuera, etc). e incluso tratando de ser mas afectivo físicamente (dandole mas abrazos principalmente, esta experiencia definitivamente le hizo darse cuenta de lo mucho que extraña ese lado de Karin).

en cuanto a Solheim...tendra suerte si es que Vince decide tomar la ruta LEGAL(si fuera asi, Solheim no saldria nunca, ya que con lo conocido que es Vince, definitivamente la opinión pública DESTRUIRIA a Solheim). Vince tiende a ser erratico en momentos como este, por lo que seria muy facil para el deshacerse de Solheim PERMANENTE, es mejor asi, no tendria que preocuparse de que le haga daño a Karin nunca mas.

creo que Vincent se sentiria mas culpable de lo que deja ver, justamente porque Karin nisiquiera se siente comoda diciendole que fue lo que paso exactamente (probablemente lo explique por dibujos) y trataría de mejorar sus habilidades pedagógicas apartir de esto.

Rody realmente solo esta haciendo todo lo que puede y aun asi no se siente suficiente, aparte de que es probable de que vuelque toda esta culpa y malos sentimientos en Solheim (con una buena paliza).

eso si, no creo que ninguno de los dos deje que Karin/Klaus vayan a la escuela en un BUEEEEN tiempo, buena suerte con eso.

en general, ambos reaccionan de forma diferente, pero haran LO QUE SEA para sacar a Solheim de la foto y darle paz/cierre a los niños.

BONUS: MANON

¡definitivamente seria la que se entero primero!(ya sea estando con Rody o siendo niñera para Vince), tiene tanto la dulzura de Rody como los metodos cuestionables de Vince(hora de hacer que Rody oculte el cuerpo...)

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

[nyaagolor]

SV Rivals Headcanons

I did it for team star so this feels only fair. Under the cut bc it's long

Arven:

He baby-talks to his pokemon but especially Mabosstiff. If anyone sees him doing it he will probably melt from embarrassment but it's Fine. He loves cooing at Mabosstiff and squishing its face and kissing its nose while making silly faces. "Who's a good boy" energy

He has dyslexia and is just so so so bad at traditional schoolwork. With all the work he missed he's failing all his classes, but is not really willing to ask for help because everyone knows how smart his parents are. That makes it hard for him because he thinks asking for help means disappointing them. This is especially bad with Clavell, since he's the one who talks about Sada and Turo the most (if Clavell realized this he would freak out tho, he cares about Arven a lot)

(points) inferiority complex. He's so used to being around overachievers that he's overly aware of his "shortcomings" and sees anything less than exceptional as a failure. Being compared to his parents all the time certainly doesn't help. He never gives himself credit for the things he's good at, and beats himself up too much over his mistakes. Boys who have low self-esteem to me

Related to the above points but oh man he NEVER admits when he's struggling. The cocktail of abandonment issues and low self-esteem means he feels the need to "prove himself" by never having visible issues and always working through things alone. He would rather die than cry in front of his friends. Luckily for him, everyone in Team Star is an expert at seeing through emotional facades and catches onto that pretty early so he has a support system that teases out all that buried nonsense and helps him work through it

You know those people who make food and share it with their dog? That's Arven. Mabosstiff is allowed to eat off Arven's plate whenever it wants, Arven spoils that dog rotten. They're rolling out of the Starbucks with a caramel frappe and a pup cup living their best life. Arven also bakes Mabosstiff a birthday cake every year, which is ironic because he doesn't make himself a birthday cake. Anything for Mabosstiff

I know canonically the 'raidon attacked wild pokemon but in my heart it attacked Arven, giving him a scar on his eye that he covers with his bangs. The reason the professor booked it to Area Zero without Arven is less because of the "oh they saw the 'raidon" part and more because 1. It hurt their son and they want to protect him and 2. If the League found out the professor was illegally keeping a mysterious pokemon who permanently scarred a child, they would definitely try and take it away which the professor is terrified of. They didn't explain this to Arven, however, who simply thought the professor abandoned him because they cared about the 'raidon more

Arven is very bulky and very strong. He can bench press more than anyone thinks, and is usually the guy to call if you need help lifting / carrying something. Despite his ability to snap your spine like a toothpick, however, she would much rather use his hands to help and not hurt. Boy who is so so sensitive and sweet

He loves to make cute little shapes with his food and has become absolutely enamored with the idea of bento boxes. Bunny shaped apple slices? Heart sandwiches? Sign him UP. His friends are more than happy to eat all the leftovers and scraps from his culinary experiments, so it's a win win for everyone

None of his pokemon are actually in pokeballs except for Mabosstiff, they're just free roaming. He'll call them when he needs them and they might stay in their balls for a short time, but overall they're more like work partners than pets like Penny's veevees. He managed to win all of them over with food, they just showed up at his picnics and followed him around. It's a good partnership, since Arven doesn't consider himself a traditional pokemon trainer anyway

He doesn't own any social media and is convinced all of Penny's terminally online speak is her trying to hex him. He's very content with this lifestyle and has no desire to learn anything about the web anytime soon. The benefit of this is that he hasn't seen most memes and subsequently finds them to be absolute goddamn riots. The "quieres" meme with a Maschiff was all he would talk about for days because he found it that funny

Nemona:

She is on the edge of her seat waiting for someone to send the "would you still love me if I were an Orthworm" meme to her. She figured out what her friends' natures would be based on their personalities and has a dozen page document detailing their new wormy battle strategy that she cannot wait to share

According to her, the reason she can't hit anything she's aiming for with a pokeball is because her family is descended from the King of Paldea. Because of that, they're subject to a multi-generational wizard curse where their arrows (and subsequently pokeballs) are destined to never hit their targets. No one can figure out if she's joking or not

I'm far from the first person to think this but this girl is autistic. Battling special interest, can't read the room, no volume control, relates everything to her special interest to understand it better, extremely bad at interpreting body language, fixates on tasks really easily, very often goes past her and others' limits without realizing, trouble relating to others, etc etc. Because of her obliviousness in social situations she often ends up being over-friendly to strangers and coming off far too strong, which scares people off

Genuinely, unironically does not realize her parents dropping her off with house staff and never seeing her is supposed to be a bad thing. Her friends are mortified to find out that her parents didn't show up to the League Ceremony when she became the youngest ever champion ranked trainer, but she's unbothered by it. Overall she's less sensitive to being ignored or forgotten or left by herself than any of her friends; she can vibe with solitude

She has a chronic illness. I have not thought too hard about which one but one of them, prolly related to nerve damage of some kind hence the arm brace. It leads to easy fatigue and some dull pain in her arm and shoulder, but the school doesn't know about it because she keeps conveniently forgetting to bring in the paperwork to Miriam. Dendra has her suspicions though

Ngl she gives school mascot energy. She's super energetic, genuinely loves the academy, and is hella tall which is basically a requirement for being the mascot. If she doesn't have the stamina for competitive sports she sure as hell is gonna cheer them on. Cue her rolling up to the bleachers in the most terrifying Pawmi fursuit you've ever seen in your life

Nemona is very very bad at having frank and straightforward emotional conversations but is absolutely SUPREME at cheering people up. Distraction queen. She isn't going to be able to address and solve your problems, but she can turn any bad day into a good one with some ice cream, a smile, and a positive attitude

Nemona doesn't know this but Arven doesn't like her (dw they get better). They used to be neighbors and would hang out as kids. At the time, Nemona wanted to be a pokemon professor-- she was chronically ill / fatigued so her parents encouraged her to talk to the Professor who lived in the lighthouse and maybe become a professor herself. Loving pokemon and being naturally curious, Nemona would talk their ear off for hours, but Arven just saw that as encroaching on the professor's super limited off-work time. He was pretty bitter that this other girl was getting more attention from his own parent than he was, not that Nemona ever realized that. But when the professor got the 'raidon, they became more reclusive, and Arven simply starting ignoring Nemona when she would knock on the door. It took a while, but she eventually got the hint, assuming they had moved or something and simply forgot to say goodbye. Arven is still mad about it all and finds Nemona obnoxious and overbearing, but she still thinks of him as a fond childhood friend, being none the wiser to his distaste for her. Eventually they get better

Her Pawmi / Pawmot was originally a therapy pokemon, intended to loosen any muscle spasms and help with the nerve-related pain in her arm. He's the pokemon she had the longest, but she didn't bother to train him for battle until recently

She's really bad at remembering people's faces, so she acts really friendly to everyone she sees to save herself the awkwardness of treating an acquaintance like a stranger. She also genuinely loves meeting new people and pokemon, so it's not really an act

Penny:

Penny doesn't really have a strong Galarian accent until she's yelling. She sounds like a native Paldean and then gets pissed and hits you with an "OI MATE" with enough psychic damage to kill a man

Her favorite ice cream flavor is "eeveelution sorbet" which is this giant rainbow mashup of flavor. It's lemon for jolteon, lime for leafeon, peach for sylveon, blue raspberry for vaporeon, orange for flareon, vanilla for glaceon, blackberry for umbreon and grape for espeon. Arven feels personally offended by its existence because "it's an insult to good cooking" and tastes like preservatives

In Paldea, "jelly" refers to the fruit spead, but in Galar, "jam" is the fruit spread and "jelly" is gelatin. Penny has been hearing Arven talk about "peanut butter and jelly" for ages now and is dead convinced that Paldeans just have shit taste. No one is aware of this miscommunication and just thinks that Penny hates fruit

Penny hacked the future paradox pokemon. She jailbroke Miraidon and can play compressed midi files on it and change the color of its lights. Future pokemon use super compressed files because things are better in the future and they don't need as much space, so Penny is currently working on getting past that limitation so she can play Doom on the thing

Good luck getting her to show up for class. She'll come and take tests, but god forbid it's a class that cold calls? She will literally never show up. Girl whose participation grades are Zero. Clavell does talk to her and authorize her to have Sylveon out of its ball in class because it's certified as a therapy pokemon, so its usually napping under her desk to help her cope with the anxiety of Being In A Classroom

Penny managed to convince Arven that blue raspberry is a real, albeit rare, Galarian fruit. He actually fell for it before Saguaro explained that she was lying to him. He still hasn't forgiven her for this

This woman vapes u cannot convince me otherwise. She has an eevee-shaped pen and always smells like watermelon. Luckily for her, miss student council president actually paid attention to those D.A.R.E lectures and read her the riot act when she realized what was going on, so she's being forced to quit and is a little bit grumpy about it. Giacomo is likewise disappointed in Penny's choices and has suggested she just switch to weed instead. Penny thinks this is a much more suitable compromise

Her eevee backpack is endless. Penny has pulled out snacks, flashdrives, a first-aid kit, a CD player, a toothbrush, Veevee treats, a cat-ear headband, and a taser from that thing within an hour. Anything you might need is probably inside whether or not it should reasonably fit. Hammerspace type beat

Geeta somewhat regrets hiring her. She does good work and the rest of the staff loves her, but she's also far less willing to put up with office bureaucracy things than any of the other staff and it's gonna give Geeta a migraine. One time Geeta asked Penny to work on a Saturday and she threatened to unionize. Larry thought it was so funny he bought Penny dinner. They're homies now

She can pick locks. Clavell is genuinely and rightfully terrified of her because they both know she can pick the lock to his office and completely wreck the school's security and financial system if you gave her a motive and a half hour

[lupunsus]

I obviously have to write about fox hybrids in inazuma bc I have a yae miko icon. It'd be a crime not to.

I basically write about Yae having a cult of fox hybrid followers, and she does nothing to stop them from seeing her as a god.

hybrid au based on the writings of @cinnamonest

In Inazuma, I believe it is illegal to own a fox hybrid.

Why, you may ask? Need I remind you that Yae Miko is a kitsune, and foxes are considered to be sacred creatures? Inazumans find the idea of owning one to bring bad luck, as stories of those that had a hybrid never end on a good note.

Also, do you really think that Yae wouldn't take them in and teach them at the shrine? Well, if they wanted to, that is. Shrine maidens that happen to see a fox hybrid in the wild are tasked with giving them an identification collar of sorts to show that they are protected by the shrine. At first, they were hesitant. Foxes are wild animals, so who's to say they wouldn't run off or attack people? But the relaxed nature of foxes rubbed off on the hybrids. Seeing them at ease around humans and receiving pets made the hybrids think that if they were the same, they'd get the same treatment.

It's why people usually see a hybrid or two around normal foxes. They're smart enough to figure out that humans won't treat them badly and instead offer food and other tasty treats. Only the shrine maidens have the privilege of grooming their fur. After demonstrating on a general of Watatsumi Island that carried the scent of a bunny, the shrine maidens are considered masters at grooming. Especially tails.

Because foxes generally don't have an issue being around humans or having the maidens take care of them, I like to think that hybrids living closer to civilization are proficient at talking. Those around Konda Village aren't as good, only knowing some of the basics as the villagers opt to silently bestow offerings to them. Plus, they're the ones being worshipped, so why bother learning how to talk with humans? They don't even need to do anything but stay close to their fox brethren.

Fox hybrids closer to the shrine, however, can feel a powerful presence. To them, it's like sensing a god. Of course, there's the Electro Archon, but I'm talking about a god for foxes. Sure, hybrids have a human appearance, but they still think of themselves as animals as they're treated like one. Those who are curious end up becoming a part of the shrine and call themselves "Lady Yae's Dutiful Followers" for some reason. Yae denies any involvement, but with how every hybrid at the shrine looks up to her as though she hung the moon herself, it makes it seem like she's a bit at fault.

Some even offer to work at the Publishing House, but they're only allowed after passing a test that Yae specially designed herself. While she loves how her faithful followers work for free, she doesn't want sales going down. How else is she supposed to afford the house she stuffed you all in? It sounds like a bad thing, but the hybrids treat it as a divine blessing. Plus, they're used to cuddling up with the foxes in the wild, so cuddling up with fellow devotees of Her Divinity, Miss Yae Miko is no problem! They argue on what the name of the home should be called, but after hearing the wise words of their god, they just decided to call it Home.

They're all practically one big family and celebrate arrivals of new followers by reading stories of Yae's greatest achievements (which may have been written by the lady herself), inspiring everyone to try to be as dignified as her.

Ah, Her Divinity, Miss Yae Miko is truly the best! It's so great that fox hybrids of higher intelligence try to convince the hybrids living in rural parts of Narukami to join them. "Miss Yae Miko is our lord and savior! Don't you want to repay her for the protection she's given us for all these years?"

The country hybrids in question: Not knowing half the things being said.

Basically, they can ramble all they want, but the fox hybrids that have received an education revolving around serving Her Divinity, Miss Yae Miko, have to also teach the foxes living a country life about her. But Yae told them to always respect the wishes of others.

"Let them live how they want to. Forcing someone to do what they don't want to do isn't how we do things here at the shrine." Ah, such wise words from God!!

Honestly, Yae thinks it's so adorable how fox hybrids see her as a higher being. While it's true she's a kitsune that's lived for at least 500 years, something as interesting as being worshipped by a species that could easily learn that they were being manipulated was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Is it wrong to lie and use your kind to your advantage? Well, as long as she uses her cards carefully, fox hybrids will inevitably walk into her trap for a hundred years more.

[cleromancy]

jason would have the prettiest handwriting in the world bc this is a stationary-loving old school pen pal kind of bitch... in blue devil 19 (and this is teeeeechnically i believe pre crisis jay) the letterer did a sample of one of jasons letters and he has a nice cursive there. and we *can* apply this to post crisis jason who was a fifth grade dropout and would have started again when he was 12 or so-- 5th grade is 10-11 year olds so he probably lost a full schoolyear. i know i started learning cursive (as opposed to printing) in 3rd grade but i also think that leading up to dropping out Jason wouldn't have been able to completely apply himself to school at all incl things like Pretty Handwriting bc yk. sick mom/MIA dad, thats a lot of stress even if you dont factor in what food insecurity does to your capacity to do. anything. SO this would have to be something jason practiced in his own time even moreso than your average teenager who decides to have the most beautiful handwriting in his creative writing class. the question then becomes Would Jason Go Out Of His Way To Devote His Time To Perfecting This and, well. jason would go out of his way to perfect anything under the right circumstances lbr.

but i think more likely than not he would. the only thing stopping me is smth like, if a teacher ever like humiliated him in front of classmates by calling his handwriting unreadable theres always a chance jason would refuse to change the way he writes out of spite (don't @ me, he was a lil petty even in his original run as robin), and like. sidenote. i think something like that would get *steph* to go out of her way to improve her writing to prove them wrong but i think what jason would do would refuse to change his writing but continue to excel in the class, like forcing the teacher to give him perfect marks on smth that was almost but not quite illegible, its a subtle but important distinction to me. anyway--

actually no fkkdkvlffk i just pictured like. jay complaining about the jerk teacher to alfred and bruce and what winds up happening is Bruce comes in to read jasons essay to the teacher out loud for them. but also very jovially suggests that if jasons writing is so difficult to read the school can provide accommodations for typing perhaps instead of berating a disadvantaged child in front of their peers. jason:

but that can actually Still Happen if jason later decides he wants to have the prettiest handwriting bc other things could spark that like. tbh. im fairly certain dick has good handwriting that he didn't actually have to go out of his way to achieve (part of jasons problem imo is that his brain goes a lot faster than he's able to write down so he was just trying to get it all down as fast as possible--dick i think is generally more deliberate about what he actually writes down vs keeps in his head so he never picked up bad handwriting habits by going way too fast). and Jason's competitive about dickie and "nicer cursive" is both an achievable goal (compared to say better acrobatics/better robining in general) and also one he can have plausible deniability about if anyone made the connection. and other things could cause or contribute to wanting to do this too-- a crush on a pen pal for example. or even just talking about it with alfred whose opinion he valued and who always values presentation.

anyway yeah Jason Todd fountain pens jason ajd donna go to the stationary store together send tweet

[wintercalamity]

It’s so fucking depressing how my grandpa got laid off from his his job as a horticulturist in the agriculture industry twice in the span of four years simply because the farms produced too much fruit. If there’s too much fruit there’s not enough scarcity to justify the prices, so the fruit has to be cheaper. Doesn’t help that there wasn’t enough cold storage facilities to store all the extra fruit, so a lot of it is just gonna go bad and they can’t just donate it to food banks or homeless shelters because feeding starving people isn’t profitable. This year during harvest my grandpa was temporarily rehired essentially as a gig worker which is so concerning bc once the ag industry realizes that’s more profitable to do, bc less expenditure is wasted on him driving around to all the farms to see how well the fruit is developing, they’re just gonna do that. They don’t have to give people like my grandpa all the benefits, they only have to provide them with a vehicle and a laptop for the time they’re working for them, they don’t have to compensate them for gas, etc. This is what happens under a for profit system that prioritizes greed. It inevitably leads to shit like this happening. Over abundance shouldn’t be a bad thing, but for some reason it is under capitalism and that leads to people losing their jobs. The second time my grandpa got laid off, it’s been worse than the first time. He’s still unemployed and I’m not counting the temporary work he did during harvest bc that’s not steady work. He’s never been unemployed this long before, and I genuinely think it’s because he’s too experienced and too qualified. The company, in their bourgeois minds, would have to pay him too much money because he’s too good at what he does. Capitalism doesn’t reward the hardest working people, it throws them all aside for cheaper labor and then wonders why nobody can buy their shit.

Oh and side note, one of the workers at the office of the company my grandpa worked for, tried to unionize and that person was fired on the spot. Which is illegal.

[elljayvee]

tips from my adhd-parent-to-two-autistic-kids for dealing with these issues

1. is there a shelf-stable food you will always eat that is almost no effort? for me this is one of two acceptable brands of peanut butter. for one of my kids it is starkist canned tuna. for the other it is one particular brand of crispy seaweed squares. prioritize keeping this food in the house. it will almost never go bad (shelf-stable plus you will eat it) and very rarely will your brain decide it is illegal. other good candidates include: pretzels, shelf-stable baby yogurts, go go squeeze applesauces, baby food in general, cereal that you like dry, dried fruit, etc.

2. are there very easy to consume foods that are more "fresh" that are nearly always ok? this is things that might need to be refrigerated, or keep a short time on the counter. in our house, this is apples (me and kid 2) and blueberry yogurt (kid 1). we also keep individually-wrapped string cheese and cheddar squares around because those are high on all our lists as well.

3. even if we don't WANT the food from tip 1 or 2, NEARLY ALWAYS we can convince ourselves to eat it, and THEN our brains have enough fuel to decide if that was fine, actually, or if A Different/More Food is necessary.

4. last important food category is long-term-storage-food that you like, that you are nearly always willing to eat, that can be prepared quickly. I keep packets of seasoned pinto beans around, and Taste of India packets of curry. One minute in the microwave and look, A Food. We keep instant oatmeal around, too, and bread in the freezer and jam and butter in the fridge, so pb&j or toast with jam and butter or tuna sandwiches are always just a few minutes away. Eggs, frozen veggie burgers, frozen dumplings, frozen kebabs -- anything you can throw in a toaster oven, microwave, or a pan on the stove and food will magically happen within a few minutes. You can make muffins and freeze them for this category, or freeze single servings of soup, etc. that you make, but I find that harder bc I have to package it up and remember it's there -- printed commercial packages help me see the food on the shelf or in the freezer.

5. drinks category. is there something you will drink regularly enough to get through it, that also has some calories in it, that can just live in your fridge? for us this is orange juice and cow's milk. for my FIL it is cranberry-grape juice. for some people this is Coke. the idea is to give your brain some quick hydration and calories to run enough to make food decisions. often just hydrating will help, if you want or need to limit sugar intake, but you might have burned through all your readily-available brain fuel by the time you notice you are hungry.

6. sometimes you gotta make a rule that if it has been 5 hours since you ate a food or drank a water, even if you don't think you need it, you have to eat 1 easy food and drink 1 small glass water. no one likes this rule. and yet, this rule is how come my teenager does not routinely fall down from no blood sugar. oh it's 6pm and you last ate at 10am? you are outside of the bounds of The Rule! go have a water and a food from Tip 1 or Tip 2. (a rule of this type can also help you with remembering to use the restroom. i am in my 40s and i still need a rule called "if it's been more than 2 hours go try to pee". so it goes.)

ok i think that's all my tips for "eating food on a regular basis: why is it so hard and ways to make it less awful". i hope they help someone.

One of my least favorite mental illness things is "hungry but dont feel like eating" and its companions "hungry but all the food in the house is Illegal," "hungry but can't make anything," and "hungry, want to eat, but why bother"

[orange-waterfalls]

I Call This One: Bold & Brash!

The egos x artist! gn! reader

ty @pokemonpunqueen for the request!

A/N: I’ve decided that I’m gonna write for the egos when I can’t think of anything else or I need practice writing lmao. I mean I was doing that before? But I didn’t know it? listen it’s fine it’ll be fine but FOR NOW I thiiiink I’m gonna take requests. Just a few. I’ll stop when I think it gets too much. This is exactly what it says. I focused on like drawing/painting for “artist”, with some references to animation thrown in there. I did Darkiplier, Wilford, Yancy, Illinois, Google, Eric, and a Host thrown in there bc I love him and I miss him

Word count is 1.5k

Enjoy

Egos x artist!reader

Darkiplier

He’ll want to commission art from you

He makes comments about how Mark is a narcissist but also he’s a narcissist.

Oh look, Dark’s asking you for another picture. What does he want? He wants you to draw him? Again? For the fifth time this fucking month? Wonderful.

He likes looking at how you make art of him, be it stylistic or realistic

He will hang them up all over the fucking house so pace yourself

He’s fine if you draw anybody else

Except Mark. Never Mark. How can he tell, you ask? No fucking clue, but he does

Gets a bit worried that you won’t make enough money to live comfortably

Just because not everyone needs a fucking MANSION-

Will always buy things for you if you ask

Likes to be able to support your job or hobby

Sugar daddy? I mean maybe

Makes sure you eat, sleep, drink water, survive--

Leaves snacks for you at your desk for when you don’t want a meal.

Carries you to bed if you fall asleep at a desk

Recommends you wear comfy clothes at all times so you can fall asleep wherever

A bit of an enabler, he’s doing his best tho

If you take commissions don’t be surprised if he threatens to kill someone when they don’t pay or are rude to you

He loves you, that’s all

Wilford

Fucking elated

Draw him!!! Please!!!! Please draw him!!!!! He has coin!!!!! He can pay!!!!!

Ecstatic if you actually draw him like he’ll giggle for an hour straight just looking

Secretly commissions more art from you

So also sugar daddy

It’s always something so obvious so you know it’s him anyways

He likes bright colors and eyestrain for some reason

If you make that, he just. Stares at it. Unblinking. You have to snap him out of it (im not projecting what do you mean)

Gets extremely worried about you not taking care of yourself

Gets someone to fucking babysit you when he’s gone so you take care of yourself

When you get greatly offended by this he settles for texting you reminders

And when you ignore those he texts more

Don’t be surprised if you get spammed by several people and an alarm starts to play from somewhere in the house

You’re gonna be healthy whether you like it or not, asshole

Drags you to bed aggressively

He WILL NOT drug your food with melatonin because that’s illegal. B U T-

He’s a little confused, but he got the spirit

Will advertise your art to anyone and everyone and also on his show and threatens the audience with a gun

AGAIN, a little confused. he just wuvs u so much 

Yancy

I mean technically he’s kind of an artist too so he appreciates your skill and creativity

He’s very nosy and likes to look over your shoulder while you work

If you don’t like him doing that, he still does it, just more secretively

Likes to work in the same room as you. 

That is if you don’t mind constant singing or tap dancing in the background

He shows off your art to anyone and everyone and gets mad if they don’t immediately say it’s fantastic

May or may not have stabbed someone over it, you’ll never know

If you show him something you’re working on, he’ll show you something he’s working on in return

The law of equivalent exchange

You tell him you can make MONEY from things like art and dancing and he goes apeshit he gets so fucking excited

If you’re like an animator and offer to animate his dancing he might actually cry

He’ll deny it constantly every day until he dies

If you make things traditionally he hangs them on the wall Everywhere

You might run out of room

By which i mean you will run out of room as soon as possible

Will never tell you a drawing is bad ever unless it’s like Really Bad which it never will be in his eyes

He loves anything and everything you do u are so precious

You have a permanent support system within the man

Google

Used to see art as pointless

Then comprehended the chemical release it causes in the brain and thought that was fine

Then saw you get really mad with something you were working on and got confused again?

If art no make good chemical, why art?

He still doesn’t understand, but that’s ok

You tried to get him to make something once

He just. Kinda. Made a buncha ones and zeroes

You still framed it and hung in on the wall and he got embarrassed

If he could blush, he would

If you draw him he looks like he doesn’t care but it’s at that point he decides he would die for you

Primary objective: answer questions as quickly as possible. Secondary objective: make u happy. Tertiary objective is to destroy mankind

If you draw bing that will disappear IMMEDIATELY you have BETRAYED him

If you ask for a color palette recommendation he Always says the google colors. Always.

You might’ve thought he was going for an rgby type of thing. But then you realize.

He is in charge of your financing. He will tell you the most efficient ways to make money as an artist and you follow then

He is also in charge of making sure you FUCKING EAT A MEAL

“But isn’t an objective to destroy mankind?” shut up he’s not happy about it either

Despite his best efforts he loves you and that ain’t gonna change

Illinois

Doesn’t fully understand

He needs to be outside at all times and cannot stay in one place

And you’re like??? Required to stay still???? For prolonged amounts of time????? Disgusting. Anyway, whatcha workin’ on?

He might ask you to try and teach him

If you do try he gives up almost immediately

Sometimes you just get so into it that you forget to do basic things and he gets upset

(i.e. eating, sleeping, living, etc.)

He gets worried about you

He is a hypocrite bc he does the same

He will drag you to bed, motherfucker

Honestly he might lock your shit somewhere until you fucking take care of yourself. it’s like a hostage situation god

“Where the fuck did you put it” “I have no clue what you mean. I might know if you eat your dinner, though”

Asshole (affectionate)

Sometimes you like make faces when you try to draw a person and it’s hilarious and cute to him

He looks at your drawings the moment you walk away but acts like he doesn’t care

He cares a lot

Will support you no matter what but will also tell you without hesitation if he thinks something looks shit

Listen he’s out of line but he’s right

Eric

Loves you a lot and will support anything and everything you choose to do or make

Drawing? Awesome! Painting? Wonderful! Animation? Superb!

He often wants to buy you supplies or something but he does not know what anything is

Fuck is a chalk pencil???? What are gel pens vs normal pens?????? Watercolor????? What the fuck are you saying??????????

Will subtly drop hints that you could,,,, draw him,,,,, maybe,,,,, if u wanna 

And by subtly I mean he starts to ask and then starts crying

If you draw him he will cry again he loves u so much 

If he ever were to get a tattoo it’d be something u drew. Nothing else is as important to him at the moment

He enjoys photography and film, and likes to try and bond with you over artistic things

I mean. Some things overlap.

You could talk about a single drawing for hours and he’d listen intently the whole time

Don’t ask him for feedback, it’s always some version of “it’s perfect and I love you”

Even if he hates it

Which,,,,, he might hate it sometimes

He’s not a good reviewer. 2/10, very biased

He likes to take photos when you’re in the zone

If you tell him to delete them he will

While secretly making one his home screen

Host

Hey, he gets it

He writes, he understands the hyperfocus

Sometimes he wouldn’t move from his chair for a day because he was busy writing a script

That being said, you probably have to be the one to get him to take care of himself

Or you have to take turns

Otherwise you’re both gonna fucking die

He asks you to describe your art to him and tries to picture it.

He’ll tell you if he thinks it probably looks good or bad

You shouldn’t take it to heart because he can’t see it

He is a bastard sometimes

“Well, what do you think?” “I think it looks fantastic” “Thanks, babe” “...” “... you think you’re fucking funny, don’t you”

He asks if you can draw him sometimes

No, he won’t see it, but he’ll appreciate the sentiment if you do

He will ask for your opinion on his scripts sometimes

If you say it’s bad he gets really defensive

You work in the same room a lot of the time and forget the other is there

One of you has to preemptively order food or like set a timer so you can goddamn Survive

You’ll be fine

[tomatoluvr69]

hi im new and please if you so wish elaborate on the dumpster diving I’m intrigued

Mostly I just go to grocery store dumpsters and skim food off the top, I stopped doing it in March of 2020 for obvious reasons but today I was out in a distant exurb driving behind a strip mall for other reasons (lol) and saw a whole bunch of produce in a dumpster and took just a couple things bc it was broad daylight and there was a skeptic in my passenger seat haha. But I used to do it a lot more and would regularly eat meat and dairy, and give away stuff to my friends. Some tricks: go at night, be subtle, stay away from fenced in dumpsters, bring a cooler, be prepared to spend an hour after you get back sorting bad produce out/chopping up useable produce for your freezer, don’t fucking spread the word about specific locations undiscerningly pretty much ever bc that’s how you get good dumpsters locked up. And put everything back!!! Don’t make life harder for the min wage employees by forcing them to clean up after you. Oh, and scoping out places ahead of time helps a lot. And you must be prepared to see something gross, most of the time you won’t, but like…it’s a dumpster.

It’s considered a faux pas to feed dumpster food to unsuspecting friends/family/guests etc and I only do it with ppl I know are similarly idk alternatively minded? Most of my friends are totally about it once I give them the spiel, bc I tend to befriend ppl with similar sensibilities lmao. As I mentioned I go for meat and dairy stuff whenever I want (you think I’m purchasing ground lamb?? In this economy???) but produce and packaged food are way easier to tell if they’re still good. The freezer will be your bff (chopping produce around the ‘bad’ spots and getting it ready for easy access, and preserving things maybe on the brink of being yucky). Also it’s a good idea to keep an eye on current recalls. When in doubt safety wise you can always just throw it out. But so often expired food is completely safe to eat, and a lot of perfectly good food is thrown out for reasons like a) another package in the flat burst and ruined the other units’ packaging b) a customer grabbed something from a cooler, changed their mind and stashed it on a random shelf & the employees don’t know how long it’d been sitting out c) one onion or whatever in a bag of onions is starting to rot but the rest are still good if u remove the bad one d) new stock with a later best by date arrived e) the whims and fancies of corporate that only god knows. I have never once gotten sick from dumpster food but your mileage may vary.

Another thing to keep in mind is that to a cop I read as a middle class, sober, “respectable” white woman and in my encounters with security/law enforcement (which have been extremely infrequent and only when I got lazy about my rules) this has resulted in outcomes that wouldn’t necessarily be afforded to ppl of color, ppl in working class garb, men even? Idk. But it’s not illegal, the furthest it’s ever gotten is they’ve run my ID through their system and told me to gtfo lol. When in doubt, bring a buddy.

Don’t reblog this please. My worst nightmare is that it starts taking off on like tiktok or something and ruins it for everyone. It’s definitely doable but it has to be done right and I don’t trust the masses because the masses are young and privileged lol. Save the real world shit for us real world ancoms

I haven’t talked about it much on this blog bc I stopped due to the pandemic & I made this blog due to the pandemic so there hasn’t really been an overlap on those 2 eras of my life. But I’m moving in January and I’m planning to make it my primary source of groceries again once I’m back in [redacted city] & I’m gonna start foraging, fermenting and preserving en masse as well :-) very excited. Very excited also to be back in a city with a lot of friends that I can redistribute my biggest finds to and throw dumpster potlucks :-)

Any of my followers feel free to DM me if you want more specific info, I’d be soooo happy to help 1 on 1 but as I said i really want to keep it on the dl (you are so ok sending this ask btw I’m just never gonna like type up a guide or anything) because a lot of ppl rely on this as a food source or as a lifestyle that mitigates food waste (like me) and if shit hits the fan and people fuck shit up because they’re not being careful, (like what happened to Z Lib) more and more grocery stores are gonna start doing inaccessible compactors like the biggest grocery chains and the waste is just gonna keep piling up

[mansplainmanipulatemalewife]

Okay doing this for realises now I'm gonna try to be pretty specific bc it's more fun that way so this might get long

Also I should probably include some content warnings I guess so like... internalised ablism and homophobia, blood, injury and infection, flies and maggots - its all fictional and largely either brief mentions or my own fairly stylised artwork, but just in case you have been warned

Anyway:

1. Music my beloved <3 it makes me feel a lot of things but I think the album that makes me feel most happy would have to be the murderdoll's women and children last idk how to embed an mp3 on tunglr help

HATE that it makes me do it via spotify that does NOT make me happy I have a perfectly good mp3 right here but either way enjoy the song <3

2. Hang out with the besties <3 one of my best friends irl is coming over on Sunday and we're having a special interests day where I rewatch the main hatchetfield trilogy with her × × × (I still haven't seen npmd oops) and I get to force her to watch Ghosts and its going to be so fun :3

3. D&D - I can talk so much about blorbo from my games I've had so many characters over the years but these three are my current ones:

The world's first redneck dwarf. Kudn is a stubborn old man who has just enough internalised homophobia not to notice that he has in fact been gay married for about 150 years. He's technically a Bard but built in a way that apparently confuses my group because his playstyle is so counterintuitive to how bards traditionally work even without all the flavour-text being reskinned.

Red's costume has gone through a couple of redesigns since I drew this but it's still my favourite drawing of her. She's an eldritch knight fighter but behaves more like a traditional ranger. She has a falcon familiar named kevin who fucking hates her and is the funniest character ever. She's just started multiclassing (illegally) into warlock after reading the necronomicon in-game.

I only have sketches of Loralai but she's a cutesy goth swarmkeeper and has a symbiotic relationship with a swarm of flies, after their maggots were used to treat her necrosis. She's extremely bubbly and friendly, but also feels very self-conscious about her scarring, so she tends to keep the mask on around people she doesn't trust.

Red and Loralai are both from in-person games so they both have minis too :3 featuring Red's updated armour design

4. My volunteering :3 I do shifts at a drop in we make everyone tea and coffee and hot food and I get to sit and chat with people about what's going on with their lives. It's really interesting and also helps with my weird guilt complex.

5. The blorbos gotta include the blorbos this is my fandom blog after all - I never actually get round to writing anything god I still need to edit that ghosts fic oops but like if you talk to me on any given day I typically have at least one new fic idea to pitch.

I kind of forgot about it but for a while there was a game where y'all can give me any pairing or interaction, the more random and unlikely and ridiculous the better (provided its media I actually, like, know about and am familiar with) and I have to create the outline for a cohesive, well-characterised, entirely serious fic. I believe it was called "bad fic ideas with void" I should bring that one back it was fun.

Anyway yeah I have so many blorbos from so many random bits of media and while I might complain near-constantly about fannon (mostly in dms sorry @gooopy ily) I am so hype to talk about all of them all the time even if I forget they exist for a couple of months in between

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who liked or reblogged something from you! Get to know your mutuals and followers ⭐️

Wow this is just like therapy <3

[mello-jello]

JELLO its @gremlinelrics its me its JAZZY🤠✨! PLLEEASEE gimmie some hc’s about hanji being a levi simp i am begging!!💞💞

i love when levi down bad for hanji like yes, yes relatable yes. BUT we as a fandom dont talk abt hanji being down bad for levi enough 😤😤 which is a crime bc the concept of hanji being all 😳🤩 nd checkin out levi or just being so fond and such a SIMP for their hostile little dwarf cutie is just, *chefs kiss* !! so what kind of headcanons do you have in mind for this concept dear mello-jello fellow moose 💞💞??

YO THANK YOU FOR THIS. @gremlinelrics I agree Levi needs more attention. We stan the smol king.

Hange totally knows how to make good tea, bitch please! They just pretend so Levi will make it for them.

They get distracted during training watching him move. A short and bullish man so graceful? Fascinating. Also gets a good view of his ass 💯

Levi's hair is soooo fluffy and they constantly runs their hands through it. He complains that they'll grease it up again, but he washes it so often that it's never a problem.

They think he looks so cute when they push his hair back and they can see his entire face without the fringe in the way. It makes him look even younger and Hange thinks it's precious.

Hange loves Levi's dainty little hands. They are nimble and gentle looking yet they belong to humanity’s strongest. During meetings Hange often finds themselves watching Levi write, transfixed on the muscles and tendons moving underneath the skin. Imagining them around their neck.

Hange is the only one who's seen Levi cry. While they don't like seeing him in pain, they can't help but think how beautiful his eyes are.

When they saw the ocean for the first time, they thought of Levi’s eyes.

Yo Levi smells amazing. Hange takes a good long whiff of their jacket when he returns it.

After the time skip Levi has started developing crows feet. Hange doesn't say anything but they melt a little bit everytime they notice.

Hange would sometimes be all done in the lab at a normal reasonalble hour, but would take their time packing up and leaving, in hopes that Levi would show up.

Hange begged and begged for years to get Levi to teach them his backwards knife grip. They know he won't,  and they know they wouldn't be able to do it anyways, but it's an excuse to compliment the man. Levi is not boastful, but the technique is something he's secretly a little bit proud of and Hange knows it. Hange hype-man! But subtly 😘

Something about Levi wearing Hange’s jacket is just so hot, they think it should be illegal. The first time the jacket was loaned was because he didn't have anything else at the time, but then he'd specifically ask to borrow it. It's the one and only article of clothing they keep washed and ironed at all times.

Hange spends a significant amount of time thinking about what gifts to give Levi on his birthday. They nail it every year.

You know Levi in that shirt? Hange is also a fan of that shirt.

Levi is not accustomed to winters and Hange delights in his bitterness towards the cold. Because he is so pale, he gets red very easily. Hange learned to knit just to make him a scarf. Secret Ackerman romance hack.

Hange gets a real kick out of his poop jokes. They will intentionally set him up -even if it's at their own expense.

Levi likes to pretend he doesn't care about how food tastes. But when he eats something that is particularly good, Hange notices his eyebrows ever so slightly twitch up. They look for it whenever they eat together.

Levi usually follows behind Hange, but Hange is always aware of his position.

When Levi falls asleep on their lap, they trace their fingers up and down the bridge of his nose and along his brows. They are soft like duck down. His glabella (skin between eye brows) is relaxed and kinda squishy. They gently poke at it. Hange just adores how peaceful Levi looks when he's asleep.

[the-fandomwriter]

thinking about a full and properly modded server with all the members of the dream smp, with like mo creatures, mr crayfish, bibliocraft, biomes o’ plenty, decocraft, CIT resource packs, THE DOG ONE THAT STACYPLAYS USED IN DOGCRAFT and the ones that add all different types of foods like pies and sandwiches and soups and all that fun stuff!!

and it’s a mostly “normal” server, in which there are no tyrranical governments or roleplay nearly as angsty as the dream smp. i’m basically thinking origins smp but softer, with more roleplay, and billions of mods that used to be popular back in the shadowcraft and dogcraft days. it would be more of a “found family of people that all left their previous homes for various reasons that they slowly get into detail with as they become closer to the others and they all develop a big family dynamic, but there’s occasional conflict since they can never get along for long periods of time.” 

i’m sorry just iMagine all the possibilities???

 tubbo would own ALL the animals like he’d just run a huge fucking zoo and live with all the animals hes tamed and he’d have like 80 dogs and all the bees on the server. not to mention his house would be absolutely DECKED with cute decor stuff. he’d have a huge portal hub for all the different dimensions that would be added to the game. he’d probably dabble in some witchcraft mods too with ranboo!!

wilbur would take mass advantage of bibliocraft and fulfil his dark academiac dreams by living in a nice tudor home in a plains biome with a gigantic library and a pond out back with fairy lights and some wheat fields. but underground he would have a gigantic lair where he grows sketchy plants he gets from tubbo that’re from other dimensions, and he makes  potions and also collects various crystals and rare ores to sell illegally to other people. 

niki and hannah would build a cottagecore village together with lots of eucalyptus and wisteria logs!! they’d do a lot of exploring to find all the cool biomes so they could collect all the flowers, crops, and trees possible. they would probably have a green house shop at spawn, as well as a cafe/bakery. despite their soft aesthetic, they would actually be two of the richest people on the server, and no one would fuck with them since they had some of the best modded armor and weapons from all of their travelling. 

puffy would really like oceancraft, and also spend a lot of time travelling. she often bunked with niki and hannah, and occasionally with bad and skeppy in their own area. she just hung around spawn mostly and had a simple ocean monument inspired house on the shore, so she could access the sea easily for her distant travels. she would also love getting into the weirder parts of the mods, like the shape shifter mods and would have a massive collection of all the inverntory pets. 

dream, george, and sapnap would band together and make a huge underground lair inside of a mountain that they put no effort into making pretty, but somehow doesn’t look like shit? sapnap would have a room dedicated to all the armor sets he set out to forge, and would have great pride in them. george would like indulging in the food aspects, like harvestcraft and mo’ foods. dream would try dabbling in the prank/security mods and have minor success, aside from the few holes he blew into the mountain and sets of armor he accidentally blew up which sapnap would never let him live down. he’d also probably do a lot of collecting and make various mob farms to get lots of cool loot to sell in spawn. 

tommy would also collect lots of cool stuff, except he wouldn’t actually go out and find the materials for armor, fight mobs, or explore caves, no he would steal it. he commissioned sam to build a gigantic, overly complex and fancy house insisting it has as much detail as possible (im talking chisel mod, carpenters blocks, decocraft, mr crayfish ALL OF IT) but he never actually stays in it bc he prefers the stupid dirt mound he lived in on the first night (mainly bc he doesn’t feel like moving all of his stuff from said dirt mound into his giant mega-mansion and sam refused to do it, no matter how much money tommy offered him). he’d also wreak havoc, yk, stealing and hiding pets, burning houses, destroying crops, setting elaborate traps that don’t work but are just annoying to clean up. despite being chaos incarnate, he’d probably have a big farm and make cool foods and have a bed and breakfast at spawn. 

fundy, sam, ranboo and tubbo would all really like diving into the red stone packs (obvi) like industrialcraft and all those prank/trap mods. they would start up a business to make elaborate redstone machines for people, and would have some of the coolest houses on the smp. they’d live in a huge treehouse colony in a jungle, and they’d have elevators and secret doors and a hidden vault underground. it would look amazing, and they would spend hours working on it, and it ends up being the prettiest build on the server.

ranboo, much like tubbo, wouldn’t live just in the jungle colony. he would also have his own base a couple hundred blocks from tubbo. it wouldn’t be super big or fancy, but he would decorate his house really nicely, and probably base some of the interiors off of other video games or something. he would collect lots of cats and dogs as to all keep him company in his house. he’d have some OP armor and tools, but be really humble about it? he’d like collecting the mob backpacks and have them all on display in his house in the woods. 

bad and skeppy would live in a mesa where they would have a massive modern base where they test airplanes and helicopters n cars n shit. bad would def try to collect a bunch of animals, especially dogs (they would all be named after members of the smp based off of the vibes they give him). skeppy would be one of the richest  bc he keeps all of his rare/expensive items in a hidden vault literally hundreds of thousands of blocks from his base. skeppy would definetly take advantage of the extra blocks and supplies for trolling. 

ant would obviously collect cats, like the ones that you can pick up and they like wrap around your neck? and they have those adorable cat beds and smack you when they’re hungry? yeah he’d have a whole fucking army of them and whenever they’re hungry he’d just unleash them on anyone nearby just to piss them off. he wouldn’t have actually wanted the cats at first, since he thought it was just ironic and lame, but after he tamed his first one he just liked the company. he would build a whole separate house for his cats so that they could stay away from the workspace in his house where he would look into dinosaurs with jurassicraft. 

connor would be a wandering vagabond who collects those cool mob backpacks and keeps all of his stuff inside of them and never settles down because he doesn’t have the money to commission someone to build a house and he’s just too fuckign lazy to build one himself lmaoo he’d end up rooming with tubbo for a while, just because he has multiple homes and has plenty of room spare.

schlatt would elect himself as leader (but not in a dream smp kinda way) he’d tax everyone and use the money to commission like forty vacation homes that he never lives in because he’s never active. he also likes to just fuck around and annoy people by breaking all the windows in their houses and stealing their doors, but no one can do anything about it bc he’s technically they’re leader and he probably somehow got access to creative mode. he definitely abuses his power, but not to a concerning extent. he’d just boost the price to buy land in the shopping district by ten diamonds every month and piss everyone off. 

(i might make a part two to this with the other members if y’all wanted to see more :))

[yacoka]

FIFTY FIRST DATES, AND THE FIRST REAL ONE

──⊱ for my one and only, wee to my woo, love of my life — @doughnuts-5ever

pairing — kuroo tetsurou x reader

genre — angst but it ends very fluffily i swear on my doggie socks

beta(s) — @sugasugawarau @taiyaki 

kisses — hello i am,,, not back,, but here's a little thing that i did for my cow and it might as well be a valentine's day fic bc why not xoxo see y'all in a few days (psps sorry to everyone to has messaged me on discord or here or anything, i haven't been on tumblr or discord in a bit i'll be back sOON)

You sat at the dinner table, staring down at the meal laid out before you. It was by far the best thing you had ever tasted, and yet, it was bland. So, so bland and bitter, that you hated it. Nevermind that it was your favorite dish made by your mother the other day, nevermind that you always loved it better as leftovers. It tasted bland and bitter, and you couldn’t help but wish what he was eating tonight was too.

It was pathetically selfish of you - you knew. But how could you not feel that way when the man you loved was out on a date with some stranger he met on the internet? He had left the house in a burgundy button up that looked like it was made for him, paired with black slacks that made him look like it should be illegal for him to be out in the streets without a warning sign.

It was his first attempt at online dating after having miserably failed at picking up girls from school. And now here he was, out with some chick with a name you could barely pronounce, and the stereotypical description of her bubbly personality that loved nature and volunteered at the animal shelter. Oh, and lets not forget, she’s a gemini!

You rolled your eyes, stabbing your fork into the now cold dish. Stupid boy, with his stupid date, with that stupid red shirt, and with his stupid personality.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. That’s what you were for falling in love with a boy who never saw you for more than another pity project, the pathetic little thing that needed friends but never had any guts to make one until he came along.

You picked up the container of food and stalked over to the bin, dropping its contents into it. You weren’t going to eat it anyways, especially not after how you had  massacred it.

After you left the dirty container in the sink, you flopped onto the couch, sighing heavily as you sank into the worn sofa. It smelled like Kuroo’s body soap, though from the amount of time he’s spent lying on this couch, it was to be expected.

You leaned forward, hand outstretched for the remote. Just a little further, a little more-

The door slammed open and you lurched forward, landing on the ground with a thud.

“It was horrible. She came into the restaurant and she looked amazing, but then we started talking and oh god, I don’t think I can be with someone who thinks that only the rich should be allowed to do whatever they want just because they’re rich.”

“Well hello to you too, Kuroo,” you grumbled from your spot on the floor, flipping yourself over to face the ceiling.

He jumped over the sofa arm, landing perfectly on it like he always does.

“I mean, how can I accept that? That’s just morally wrong and if her basic morals are wrong, what about other more important things? I walked out right after that, that doesn’t make me an asshole right?” His head popped out, brown eyes staring down at you. The cologne he wore tonight drifted down, washing over you and clouding your mind with its deliciously warm and thick and-

“I mean I did pay for the meal before I left,” he mutters, dropping his head onto the cushion, voice muffled slightly by it. “So it counters the fact that I left, right?”

The sigh that begs to pull its way out is caught by you, stuffed into the depths of your stomach in exchange for a soft pat on his head and words you know he wants to hear.

“No, you’re not an asshole. Maybe that was an asshole move, but that doesn’t make you one. Besides, her lack of a moral compass cancels out any asshole you might’ve been.” You combed through his hair, drawing it out of the careful style he had forced his bed head into. “This hairstyle though? It makes you look like an extreme asshole.”

Kuroo scoffed indignantly and his head popped back over the edge once more, brown eyes glaring at you. “I worked hard on this!”

“Doesn’t make you look any less of an ass.”

“The date was incredible.” He sighed dreamily, leaning against the counter with his chin in his hand. The temptation to throw your fork at him increased, and it took every sane cell in your body to set it down on the table instead, albeit rougher than you intended.

If Kuroo noticed your intensity, he didn’t mention it, instead continuing on to sigh and gush about the wonderful date he had last night with this amazing woman at this delicious place.

For someone who was incredibly perceptive, he could be incredibly dense as well. You wonder at his obliviousness to your feelings, to the poorly concealed hurt that peeked through in every little move of your body.

All you wanted to do was scream at him, to wake up, open his eyes, and see you.

You, who had been there since the beginning, who had watched him grow from the shy, introverted kid to this cunning, charismatic man who excelled and went beyond what had been expected of him. You, who had seen him at his worst, and still stayed, patching him up and helping him to his feet. You, who knew who he was to the core, every detail, every fact about him.

But it seemed he didn’t know you as well.

“That’s great,” you interrupt him. He glanced at you, surprised by your abruptness. “I gotta go get some work done, I’ll talk to you tomorrow morning.”

“Wait, did I do something wrong?” He called after your retreating back. “Hey, I’m sorry if I pissed you off.”

“No, it’s nothing!” You slammed the door shut, slumping against it. God, you were a fool to have fallen for an idiot. Dashing away the burning tears that slip down your cheeks, you gathered just enough strength to crawl beneath onto your bed and beneath the covers.

The cat plushie he got you a long time ago sits at the bottom of your bed, staring at you. You glared at it, before giving in and grabbing it, tucking it into your chest. Stupid Kuroo with his stupid face and this stupid cat. You hate him so much.

(No, you don’t, you really don’t. And it hurts so much more to know that.)

You’re back here once more, glaring daggers at the clock. The slow ticking of the hands pisses you off, every second gone is a second more Kuroo’s out there, with another girl, on another date. With the number of bad first dates he’s gone one, you’d think he’d give up. But no, this man was persistent, and he wanted to “experience life!”

Well, he was going to experience death soon if he didn’t come back home soon. Your vigil continued, all the way till three am where you gave up and went to bed, your exhaustion outweighing your annoyance and worry. He’s a grown man, there was no need to worry about him.

Honestly, you didn’t know how you got here. To this suffocating silence that rested upon your chest, pinning you down as you listened to the sounds of cars rushing past and the occasional laughter that seeped through the walls. To where you spent your nights alone in your shared apartment, waiting for Kuroo to come home from yet another date. Like some married person waiting on their cheating husband, you smiled bitterly at the ceiling.

Only you weren’t married to him, and you certainly weren't his anything.

If only you were less of a fool, you might’ve moved on long ago. Maybe you might have even found someone who might be just as in love with you as you were with them. You might have already been in a happy relationship, going out on dates, spending your nights with them, being loved. But you were a fool, a fool in love with another fool.

So you continued to lie there, the infinite weight of your one-sided love pressing you into the ground, holding you prisoner to Kuroo Tetsurou.

“Hey, do you wanna go get dinner?” Kuroo called out. “There’s nothing left in the fridge, maybe we could get groceries after.”

You ignored him, focusing on the dimly lit screen of your phone. There hadn't been a proper conversation with him in a while, and you were content to leave it that way if only it meant you didn’t have to hear about his dates with those seemingly perfect women and their seemingly perfect food.

Kuroo called out once more, and you burrowed beneath the blanket, curling up into a ball.

No, you did not want to get dinner with the man you’re so desperately in love with it almost hurts to even breathe in his presence.

The door creaked open, and you could see his shadow stretch out across your bedroom floor, casting its shape upon your walls. It took everything in you to tear your eyes away from it and back onto your phone, though it lingered in your peripheral, taunting you with the way it twisted and leaned closer to you, the scent of his cologne growing stronger by the second, until it almost felt like he wa-

“Why are you ignoring me?” Kuroo whined into your ear as he draped his body over yours, strands of inky hair tickling your cheek.

“Ku-roo-” you gasped out, fighting to twist your body out from under him. “Can’t- bre-breathe.”

He groaned into your ear, dropping even more pressure down. “Don’t care, you ignored me.” He sulked as he burrowed his head into the crook of your neck.

A blind kick to his legs has him flopping off you, spread eagle on your too tiny bed.

“You’re too heavy to be pulling this crap,” you snapped at him.

“And you’re too old to be ignoring me when something’s wrong,” he shot back just as fast, and you were left stunned. To be fair, you should have expected it, Kuroo being one of the most perceptive people you’ve ever met.

(Not perceptive enough to see the deep feelings you harbored for him though.)

“So what’s wrong?”

‘Everything,’ you wanted to scream. ‘You, those stupid dates, my feelings, every god damned thing on earth.’

Instead, what came out was: “I’m just stressed. Work, you know?” You shot him an unconvincing smile.

Kuroo frowned, his lips pinching as he stared at you. He knew better than to push you though, and settled with a curt nod, a forced smile slipping onto his face. “So…. dinner?”

You sighed in exasperation, and let him yank you up and out of bed. The way his stiff smile melted into an easy, fond one was enough to wash away your hesitance, and temporarily dam up the river of doubts that threatened to drown you.

Just for tonight, you’ll enjoy his presence, before he gets caught up in another’s embrace.

(You let yourself get swept up in him again, chasing after the ebb of his warmth when his encompassing presence surges away from you. But you find that you don’t really mind drowning in him, not when the peak of the surf reveals such beautiful sights in the form of lazy smirks and sly hazel eyes.)

It’s another failed date that sends him home in a fitted suit, one that you had turned your nose up at. Kuroo doesn’t understand what’s going wrong, why he never felt like the date was right. The people he had gone on dates with were nothing short of amazing, with the exception of a few. But they just lacked… something. And so he always leaves them with a grateful goodbye and an apologetic smile, returning home to the apartment he shared with you alone.

He’s spent nights and days trying to convince himself that they were an ideal candidate to date, listing out their positive notes to you, and somehow he can’t seem to find the thing that made him just click with them. It’s bordering on frustrating, really, and Kuroo is more than ready to relieve some of the building tension in his body by hanging out with you.

His entrance home is muffled by the sounds of music blasting through the apartment, and it’s a wonder the neighbours haven’t complained yet. He’s about to call out for you as he drops keys on the coffee table, one hand loosening his tie when he catches sight of you dancing in the kitchen.

And everything clicks in place.

It’s a stunning clarity that leaves him reeling, and he wonders how he could have missed it in the first place. It’s a simple truth: Kuroo Tetsurou was completely, utterly, irrevocably in love with you. And it only took him fifty bad first dates to realize that the only person he wanted to go on a date with was you.

Objectively speaking, you look like a complete mess, but to him, the sight of you twirling around in sock clad feet in an oversized shirt with a lame chemistry joke printed across it was infinitely better than any of the people he had gone on dates with. You’re absolutely perfect to him, yelling out lyrics to a song that’s blasting at full volume from the living room.

There isn’t a moment’s hesitation as he surges forward, a force tugging him to you. And like just like two opposing magnets, you spin around just in time for him to collide into you, his head hazy as his mouth crashes down upon yours.

You taste of leftover pizza and something sweet, and he thinks it might be the best damn thing he’s ever tasted. The shocked gasp that escapes you is swallowed by Kuroo as he deepens the kiss, arms winding around you to pull you impossibly closer. And he isn’t sure why he’s so surprised when you reciprocate the kiss, melting into him as your hands grip the lapels of his blazer.

It feels like an eternity spent wrapped around each other, the beat of the music matching the rhythm of your hearts, and the warmth of each other.

Kuroo pulls away first, only because rationality comes sinking back into his muddled brain, and there’s a brief moment of panic when he stares down at your flushed face, lips swollen from his sudden attack. But the absolute relief and love in your eyes has him calming down, and the soft peck you deliver next settles those doubts.

“It’s been you all this while,” his voice cracks, and he winces. “You’re my best friend, and I’m in love with you.”

The smile that breaks out across your face is everything he’s been looking for, and he feels like a fool for being so blind. You’re everything he’s wanted, and everything he’s needed.

“I’m in love with you.” He repeats louder, an incredulous laugh bubbling out of him. “I’m in love with you!”

“I’m in love with you too!” You yell back, and in his excitement, he can’t help but twirl you around, and you burst into giggles. There isn’t a better sound in the world than this, he thinks.

“Be mine.” He catches you by the shoulders, face alight with adoration.

“I’ve been yours for a long time now.” Your answer fills him with a rush of delight and guilt, and he’s ready to spill apologies and promises to make it up to you when you yank on his tie hard, pulling him into another kiss. Every unspoken word, every drop of emotion that has ever begged to be exchanged between you two is said with a simple kiss.

Kuroo thanks the heavens for you, for blessing his life with someone who is more than he deserves. The weight of you in his arms is a comforting pressure, and there he has his last first date, at the beginning of a new chapter in the story of him and you, eating leftovers and dancing to songs of your childhood.

He’s in love with you, and you are with him too.

[venmotif]

yall I learned how to use read mores I’m steadily improving at tumblr 

more fruitninja fantasy brainrot

fruit is a cat hybrid! grows up in an underground, illegal fighting ring(not necessarily literally underground)

fights and kills dangerous/exotic animals or other ppl for the pit masters' entertainment. every fight he wins gives him a tally. if he has 1000 he can buy his freedom. but he has to spend tallies on supplies(like 5 tallies for a loaf of bread, 25 for bandages, etc)

he can forfeit a match(if he's afraid of death etc) at the cost of 100 tallies; he's incentives to fight and win as many matches as possible

he's very close to 1000 tallies at the time the fic starts, having forfeited only two fights during his time there, and budgeting the rest of his supplies

after a long day of fighting exotic animals(chimeras, hungry lions, etc etc) he hears a commotion and they drag a young ender dragon into the ring, which he quickly realizes he can't beat(because tired, also ender dragon dangerous). reluctantly he forfeits another 100 tallies and goes back to his cell feeling bitter about the loss. he dreads having to fight the dragon in the future because he knows he'll have to do it if he can't kill it right now.

he has his own cell for being hostile towards guards and highly dangerous(one of the best fighters); it's a privilege(somewhat), also a measure of security for the guards of the pit. he hears a minor argument, some scuffles and growls, basically another commotion. another person is dragged inside, a dragon hybrid, who has his wings bound and a gag/muzzle locked around his teeth. they dump him in there, he struggles somewhat but the guards quickly leave.

fruit sits back warily, for a while, because antisocial and also possibly dangerous new roommate. he recognizes that some of the wounds look familiar(like a gash on his face, very specific shaped gouges etc) and realizes that his roommate is a shifter who has a half dragon form and a full dragon form, who he fought earlier, which puts him even further on guard.

the muzzle is uncomfortable, so illumina tries to gesture for fruit to help him take it off; fruit is reluctant because possible danger but he makes illumina promise to not hurt him and picks the lock on the back. they talk and it's awkward at first but they establish rapport soon enough. they ask about each other; fruit mentions he's grown up in the pits, illumina says he was recently captured, a few days ago, after a flying accident over a bad place. mentions he's still somewhat injured(even though having healed at an unnaturally fast pace) so fruit probably could've killed him. "the dragon form is more intimidating, but I don't like it as much...it feels more monstrous, inhuman."

fruit tells illu how the fight systems work, the tally system, how he was close but because he forfeited the fight with illumina he's set back 100 tallies and that much further(dejected). illumina suggests breaking out, which fruit is taken aback at because he's never seriously contemplated it, because he knows what happens to people who try, torture and very brutal fights to the death. but illumina promises that they can work together to do that.

the timeline revolves around illumina getting better(healing), and both of them preparing to break out, around their scheduled fights, and fruit taking more so he can use his tallies to buy things like supplies(bandaids, food etc). towards the middle late part of the book, he overhears that the organizers/owners are slotting him for a death match, which is basically an increasingly difficult fight that he can't forfeit which is designed to kill him(bc he's too close to freedom, and the organizers never planned on giving him it anyway). he tells Illumina they have to leave before then(this creates urgency)

when they almost have all the supplies they need, the organizers hears about their plans to run away and forcibly moves up fruit's death match after separating him from illu for a night. they're still missing some supplies at this point, but the biggest is illumina's end crystal/dragon core etc which he needs to not be bound to a general location, and is being kept in the organizers' office; illu has to steal it from there or their escape will never work. fruit's forced into the fight and is hella nervous, almost dies; at the last boss, when he's about to bleed out, illumina flies down in dragon form and carries him away(being successful with retrieving his core) and they soar into the sky.

--

(aftermath) they go to a nearby cave; illumina turns back into hybrid form, and they take their saved supplies and patch up fruit. illumina says that they'll fly in his dragon form towards a near-enough city for a better start; illumina is enthusiastic about showing fruit what city life/civilization outside the pit is like.

--

they land in the city; it's bright and beautiful, and they have some money that illumina stole from the organizers' office(he needed to go there to take his end crystal back or smth like that for his independence), so they enjoy some small delights, I think, the pretty night, beautiful sunrises etc. story ends here with them relatively happy.

second fic could contain the problem of how the hell else they establish life in the city, etc

[floralseokjin]

;club zombie (m)

In a world overrun by zombies, you’d think everyone was a goner, but the reality is much different. A steady diet of brains lets a zombie exist as a fully functioning human. Just ignore the part where they’re technically dead… In fact, these days, the amount of zombies outweigh the humans. A lot jump at the chance to be turned. Beg for it. 

Kim Seokjin controls the underground of Seoul. No one would dare cross him. That’s how most of the world goes these days. You wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of a zombie now, would you? However, you don’t quite see it like that. Spending most nights dancing at the club he owns, you catch his eye. It’s never the wrong side if you’re underneath him, right…?

pairing; kim seokjin x reader  genre/warnings; zombie! seokjin, mafia boss! seokjin, smut, oc has a ring kink (relatable), gets angsty two thirds in, some type of romance bc of course it gets fluffy towards the end lol words; 17,113

listen to; friction // 555 

⇢ Part of the Deadly Intentions collaboration. With @btssmutgalore​, @kpopfanfictrash, @underthejoon, @lamourche , @prolixitae and @taetaetrashhh, who organised the whole thing and created the moodboard! 

Please forget everything you’ve ever known about most zombie portrayals in books, movies and tv series, because this is totally different. The idea and inspiration came from the television adaptation of iZombie. If you’ve watched it then you have a better vision of how the zombies in my story are portrayed. If not, then please just give it a go lol. It may sound wacky, but it’s Halloween! So here’s to the 🧟🍆!! I hope you enjoy! 

You could hear Seokjin’s footsteps, boots clanking up the wooden stairs, and your stomach lurched in anticipation. He’d made you wait two frustratingly long hours, which was hell considering you hadn’t had time to be alone together all week. You were beyond excited for him to finally get his hands on you. Your body had long got used to craving him down to the very bone. 

He came into sight, the image of you draped along his bed rooting him in his tracks. Your robe barely covered your modesty. Nipples visibly hard against the silk. Sometimes there was no need for underwear. Not when it got torn off most of the time. He needn’t waste his money anymore. You let a slow smirk stretch across your face. “How do you want me tonight, Sir?” 

No need to greet him with a hello neither. What was the point? He’d told you to be in his home ready for him when he got back. Bedroom. He’d made that very specific. There was no need for pleasantries. Not when you knew greater ways to please him.

Him. 

Kim Seokjin. 

How did you get here again? So easily. So willingly. Like you’d wanted such a thing from the moment you’d laid your eyes on him. You had. Seokjin wasn’t your husband, nor boyfriend. He wasn’t even a casual hook up. In some ways he was more than any of the above. In others, he was less. It was an arrangement. The most simplest kind. Sex. With the city’s most dangerous man. 

No one in Seoul would dare cross him. Hell, this whole country. Maybe it ran deeper than even that. No, what were you saying? It definitely did. You just didn’t want to know. You didn’t want to know the details. You didn’t even want to think about what they could be. To you, the man you shared yourself so openly with could never be what they all described him as. Not when he’d shared so much with you too. It was puzzling to think people actually feared him. He had never frightened you. In fact, you’d only ever known him as gentle. Even when he had his icy cold hands wrapped around your throat, fucking into you so hard his bed, amongst other things, were fit to break. 

Yeah. This wasn’t the turn you thought your life would take. But then again, this world wasn’t exactly the same place it had been four years ago. The human race had to grow a thicker skin. Most changed completely. See, Seokjin wasn’t just your average crime lord. He was a rotter. So was over half the population. 

Dead and rotten on the inside. Cold and smooth on the outside. The correct scientific term was Undead, but in simpler, more familiar terms, they were zombies. Not your average text fiction kind though. No flesh rots. No foul smell. No incoherent noises, that sent a bolt of terror and dread through your body. No, the undead were able to live as fully functioning humans for the most part. A reality that took a little while to make sense of, but as it did, the world everyone had known began to change. Drastically.  

Unsure how it all started, although known to have been caused by some crazy scientist type, the disease, as it was called—now more of a lifestyle—had swept through most of America before their government and medicals could get to grips with it. It was as it was known in fiction. A zombie apocalypse. The whole world went into lockdown, flown into madness. Panic and strife were universal. The infected were destroyed and the potentially infected were quarantined. It was there they began to understand the infection. 

The virus still burning through the veins of the innocent would be extremely difficult to handle. The were, by lack of knowledge back then, your “cannon” zombie. Unable to speak, unable to think, and their eyes sunken, black and lifeless. If given the chance, and some had been, they would tear at the flesh of the uninfected, feast on their brains. However, kept under a close eye, locked and controlled in a box room where they couldn’t see out but an array of people could see in, medicals soon discovered there were ways to quell the deep, ravenous need they had inside them. Portions. That was the key. Starved or gorged of human brain just turned them frenzied. The need as a fresh, baby zombie was insatiable but with a controlled diet the world became a little more normal again. 

If you could ever call it normal. Human greed was at an all-time high. Who didn’t find it amazing that you could be a certified zombie while also retaining your human life? Who wouldn’t want to be dangerous? Feared? Who wouldn’t want to live potentially forever? The list went on, and that didn’t include countless governments’ motives. Soon the infection had spread willingly throughout the world. It caused fresh havoc. Some countries who hadn’t even wanted to get caught up in the mess, perished because they were too small or undeveloped. But most were smart, scheming. Here in the East a plan was concocted. 

Somehow they found the individual who created the virus. Whether they went willingly or were forced no one would ever know. Their identity still remained a mystery even after all these years. Together some of the countries’ top scientists helped mutate the sickness into something “better”. Injected straight into the veins, there was no longer a fear of the infected losing control. The Undead were created. Just another form of human, but with a hunger for brains. It took a total of eighteen months for the world to be okay again. 

Now that was all just a memory. Zombies were considered the norm, accepted into society long ago. A recent consensus found that just under 60% of the world’s population were undead. Humans the minority. They lived like humans, worked like humans and had families like humans. Although not in the traditional sense. The undead could still have sex. The men could still cum, by some grace of god, lucky them, but they were infertile. Women too. Reproductive system dead like the rest of them. 

Of course, just because there were a lot of humane rotters, didn’t mean there weren’t bad ones amongst the mix. Like you said, humans were greedy. Mostly for power, and being a rotter in the right place, right time gave people tonnes of that. They weren’t truly immortal though. That was well known. A shot to their rotten brain would kill them. Nothing else. That’s where the infection resided. 

To be turned there was a system. Applications, interviews, contracts…a waiting list for the injection that would alter your life forever. However, it didn’t work like that most of the time. The world wasn’t so perfect. Corrupt would be a better description. There were other, more simple, ways of turning. A bite or a scratch. Or even sexually transmitted within the first year of infection. There was nothing the government could do about it, and there were many illegal zombies rooming the country. And try all they might, no matter how many times, scientists couldn’t change the way infection took place. 

They also couldn’t change the compulsion for brains. Yes, there was no lost control in the beginning, but starved of brains for too long, devolved them into the “cannon” zombie once again. It would take months of starvation, but after the deed was done, it was impossible to be reverted back. Thus they were destroyed. As you could guess, crime levels had not lowered. They had only gotten worse due to gluttony. 

Donors now offered their brains up once dead, in a bid to keep portions up. There was complete control when it came to that, but again, that didn’t stop some rotters. Over the years, a lot more murder victims had been found missing a brain. But you digressed. It wasn’t all bad for the undead. They didn’t starve. They could still eat normal food, just oddly needed some extra spice. Their tastebuds has pretty much been destroyed after the turn, so hot sauce was their best friend. Scientists had also created “fake” brain. Think of it along the same vein as fake meat for vegetarians. A substitute. It didn’t give complete satisfaction, but it helped. In fact, they had quite an array of foods now, sold at any local convenience and grocery stores. For some reason brain sushi always made you laugh when you saw it. Surreal. Fast food stores had also caught on. Yes, Big Brain Mac was a thing now… What more did they want? As long as they had the real thing each month, life went on as normal.

They looked normal too. You’d forgotten to mention that one. Sometimes, with the help of hair dye and fake tan, they looked just like their past selves. There were a couple of giveaways though. If they weren’t high maintenance. Their eyes had changed an ice grey after the virus had taken hold, skin pale and cold, and hair turning white. Sometimes fully, but more often than not streaks or wisps of it. Oh, and their heart rate was ten beats per minute. They were dead after all. Pretty much. It  was only when they lost themselves, did they turn into something horrific. Eyes black, sunken into their skull, cheeks gaunt, close to rotting. You’d heard they could also fall into a zombie trance when experiencing intense emotions. Depending on the situation it had different levels of severe. You had never seen this though. You knew very well, that was a benefit for certain zombies. A scare factor. Intimation factor. Like you said, there were many who used their rotter status for evil and crime… 

Which put Seokjin in a very grey area. 

He controlled the underground of this city. You hated using the word mafia, naïve to it all. Something fictional to you, but that’s exactly what was going on. An organised crime syndicate. The oldest son of a wealthy and corrupt family, Seokjin was always heir to the blood soaked throne. He was extremely powerful, even more so than the city’s law enforcement. Actually, you knew for a fact he worked side by side with them a lot of time. Probably called most of the shots. He’d been human in the beginning, when he’d first become in charge, not long before the virus began spreading, but of course that had soon changed. You’d heard stories of how his turn came to be, but you took those with a grain of salt. They were hearsay in your eyes. You’d never been one for rumours and gossip. 

As it would have it, you’d only ever known him as undead. You started working at his club just over a year ago. How you got there wasn’t important, you just liked to dance, and dancing was a must at Club Zombie. Cheesy name, but it got the custom. It was almost a sort of tourist attraction. An after dark one. Humans and zombies alike. The dancers were both too. It could be a seedy place sometimes, but you didn’t mind dancing around a pole for men when their money was involved. The day was yours, the night was easy; just dancing, putting on a show. Besides, you were safe. Seokjin never let anything happen to the women that worked for him. 

This was the place you could find him at the most, although strictly professional he never brought danger here. The rumours surrounding him were probably what made the club so popular to begin with. He wasn’t stupid. A zombie mob boss, what fiction was made of. Everyone lapped it up. Some nights he sat right up front, quite literally a throne on a podium, surveying the bar and dance platforms. It helped that he was extremely good looking. Got the humans with a kink all riled up. Such soft, movie star looks when you truly studied him. Jarring in a way. A white streak running along the front of his dark hair, parted at the forehead reminded you of what he was. That and his cold, grey eyes. 

It was working at Club Zombie where he soon began to take an interest in you. It was glances your way at first. When you made your way to the dressing rooms, or more often than not, when your eyes met as you danced and twisted around the pole. You wouldn’t admit it back then, but it did send a thrill up your spine, fresh confidence washing  over you. Even more so when the glances turned to smiles. They could be better described as flirtatious smirks if you didn’t know any better. Because why would anyone like Seokjin want you? He had this whole city at his feet. You were a no one. No, you were imagining the signs. He might’ve not even been looking at you. 

But he was. Or course he was. You just couldn’t believe it. Not until one night when he’d asked you to join him for a drink. Halloween night, to be precise. Not that you cared for the holiday. It was just another day. 

You were the last one to leave the club. Usually the first, you’d misplaced your cell phone. Took you twenty minutes to find it, fallen behind one of the sofas in the dressing room when you’d flung your jacket down in a hurry not a few hours ago. You were in a hurry when you made your way across the bar, heading for the exit, hand in your purse trying to now find your car keys. You didn’t want to keep Yunho, the barman, waiting any longer. But he wasn’t the one left. 

Seokjin was stood behind the bar when you looked up at the call of your name. A peculiar sight. In all the time you’d been here you hadn’t once seen that. The fact he knew your name was even more mindboggling. You opened your mouth to apologise to him, presuming that was why he was asking for your attention, but you got no where. Not when the question he asked stunned you to silence. 

“Care to join me for night cap?” 

You weren’t one for drinking, never had been funnily enough, but you ended up agreeing. You told yourself it was because he was the boss. You couldn’t say no to him, but the racing of your heart as you sat down argued it was something different. 

He drank straight whisky, poured you a glass of rosé you didn’t request. Did he see you as that kind of drinker? Classy. Unless it wasn’t classy at all because you knew nothing about alcohol. You thought he’d stay behind the bar, lord of the house, but to your surprise he came out to meet you. You heart beat even faster when he sat on the stool next to you. You prayed hard that rotters didn’t have an acute sense of hearing. Your knowledge was failing you, but logically, going by that dumb fucking fiction, you’d have to assume they did. He knew you were nervous mess right now. How embarrassing. 

He bared his teeth and made a wincing sound as he took a swig of his drink. It was nice to know the burn still affected him, and you watched him tilt the tumbler this way and that, staring at the swirling amber liquid as he did so. Maybe he was giving you time to relax. Maybe he just wanted to sit in silence. Who knew. His rings clanked against the crystallised glass. He always wore them. Large silver bands, dark coloured jewels encased in the centre. He had beautiful hands now that you saw them up close. Wrists too. His shirt sleeves rolled up to the middle of his veiny forearms. The watch he wore was more expensive than anything you’d earn in five years. Maybe a lifetime. You were clueless. 

Momentarily distracted, it took you those five minutes to realise you’d never so much as had one conversation with him. He was mostly the untouchable boss who was more like a statue to awe over than a person to share friendlies with. There were other men who worked closely for him here, woman too. Those were who you went to if there was a problem. A drunken customer. A shift you couldn’t make. An emergency you had to leave early for. In fact, even when you had gotten this job it wasn’t by his judgement. So this made the exchange even more awkward considering you’d never said so much as two words to him. You sipped on your wine for something to do. The taste wasn’t all that bad actually. 

“You’re not afraid of me, are you?” 

You had been so used to the silence you jumped a little from your seat at the sound of his voice. He sounded curious, and you glanced his way to see him giving you his full attention now. Body angled to you; eyes so intense they made you a little unnerved. Fuck. He’d definitely heard the racing of your heart then. Mistaken it for something else. 

“Afraid? No.” You decided to be honest. Or at least as honest as you could be. He didn’t need to know you were even more unsteady now than you had been not ten minutes ago. All because of…thoughts, that had entered your mind upon noticing his long, deft fingers. Not that you knew they were skilled, but it was just a hunch. You shrugged in what you hoped was a casual manner. Voice straining to be very much the same. “My nail technician is a zombie. My running buddy at the gym. My doctor.” 

To your surprise he chuckled. Deeply amused by something. “I didn’t mean that.” Oh. Had you misunderstood? How embarrassing. “Are you afraid of me because of who I am?” 

You blinked slowly. His status. That was what he was referring to. You slowly shook your head, making sure to hold his gaze as you replied. “No.” You shocked even yourself, because you really did mean it. Maybe you were reckless. Your parents had always said such words. You were drawn to the unknown. The excitement got you giddy, but this—he—was something new. 

Your idea of living life on the edge was dancing in hardly anything, not warming to a man who discussed crime over breakfast like it was nothing. Did God knows what when he wasn’t sitting in this club. 

He nodded in almost confirmation. “Thought not. Just wanted to be sure.” He spoke with a certainty. Like he already knew this information before you did. What vibes were you giving off here? Or was he always this confident and sure when it came to assuming others’ thoughts and feelings…

“Why?” It came out slightly more accusing than you meant it to. 

It took him a moment to answer, taking a swig of his whiskey again. You thought he was going to ignore it all together. In a way he did. “Did you know that any human who fucks a rotter in the first year of their transformation gets infected too?” 

You took a moment to let that sink in. The casualness of his tone cut with the crude language took you by surprise. You swallowed. “I did.” Everyone did. It was the largest cause of illegal turning. Even a condom wouldn’t save you. 

He scoffed in amazement. “It’s amazing how biology works, even for someone dead like me.” 

When someone described themselves as dead it never ceased to blow your mind. It was hard to believe that someone as handsome as Seokjin was rotten to the core on the inside. Black and decaying. You let a wry smile play at the corners of your mouth, replying before you took another mouthful of your drink. “This world isn’t what it used to be.” 

He didn’t bother to agree, instead taking a moment of silence before he hit you with another question. “Did you also know that we don’t have any sexual urges for a while after we’ve been turned?” 

This time it took you everything to hold it together. The shock close to becoming visible on your face. You suddenly thought of every time he had glanced your way in the past few weeks. Each smile he had given you. Just like the one he was giving you now as he waited for your reply. “I heard it varies from r-zombie to zombie.” 

You stopped yourself at the R for Rotter. Yes, he had used the word not moments before, but it was always such a grey area. Mostly used as a derogatory term, by humans—usually the older generation—who couldn’t get their small, little brains around the reality of the world today, it had become increasingly popular over the past couple of years. Now, it was just accepted. Like everything else this day and age. 

“Correct.” He continued to smile. If he noticed your slip-up he didn’t care to mention it. “This may be TMI but mine’s only recently appeared again.” Something squeezed in your gut. “A few months ago. Maybe longer. I don’t know. With work and the stress I think I ignored it for longer than I should have.” 

“Oh.” That was… Yes, it was fact all sexual desire left when first turned. Most for a couple of months, maybe a little longer. You didn’t know the ins and outs, but three years seemed steep. He was a busy man, it made sense, but… Fuck. Who were you kidding? You were just distracting yourself with nonsense now. Anything to not have to acknowledge what was really going on here. But you had to. “Not to be rude Mr. Kim, but why are you telling me this?” 

No one, and you mean no one, called him by his first name. Not anyone you knew anyway. It was easy to see him as none other than Seokjin, your Seokjin, now thinking back, but a few months ago he was just your boss with the intimating aura. The one who wouldn’t dare be interested in you. That all changed that fateful night. 

His lips curled. You couldn’t tell if he was trying to be friendly or if he was greatly amused. Maybe both. “Seokjin. Call me Seokjin.” 

You swallowed. His name felt foreign on your tongue, but you needed to press on. You needed him to confirm the hunch now coiled in your chest. “Seokjin, why are you telling this?” 

A beat of silence followed. He actually glanced away from you as he went to speak. “I’m incredibly attracted to you.” You let out a shaky breath, unsure you could say anything back even if you tried. He chuckled awkwardly. Such a human reaction. You found your heart warming. “Forgive me. I’m rusty at this.” 

He sounded way out of his depth, which was incredibly amusing for someone like him. You wondered how long he had been thinking of confessing this. How long he’d been trying… He’d taken his chance tonight. 

“You’ve noticed me staring a lot?” His eyes were back on you now. You didn’t know if you were imagining it, but the harshness of the grey had begun to soften. The coldness, warming up. 

“Yes,” you murmured. Your throat felt dry. You wouldn’t have described it as staring, but to say you hadn’t noticed would be an outright lie. 

“I just can’t take my eyes off you,” he admitted with a slight sigh. “I love watching you dance because it’s the only form of interaction I have with you.” Without realising, you squeezed your legs together. Your face was flushing, you could feel the heat prickle your skin. 

“My view gets obstructed a lot of the time, or my attention is needed elsewhere but I always try...” He cleared his throat. “I always try to admire you.” 

His words bloomed against your skin, sending a warmth all over you. Call you weak, it didn’t matter. An attractive man was complimenting you. You did not question him. He was short and to the point with his words. No sugar-coating. You admired that. 

You smirked his way, confidence washing over you. In a way, you felt like you had the upper hand here. He was the one who had confessed in uncertainty. “You should get better seats for the show.” 

His eyes widened a little in shock at your brazenness. You’d surprised him, and his mouth stretched into a grin, a bewildered laugh leaving him as his browline furrowed. It was a glorious sound. “I really don’t scare you? Disgust you?” 

“Of course not.” You replied so surely it would be difficult to doubt you. Maybe you were stupid. Maybe this was all part of his masterplan, but there was a small self-destructive part of you that didn’t even care. “Would I be working here otherwise?”

“You got me there,” he silked. Gaze holding yours. 

The most deepest of desires began to come alive inside of you. Swirling around in your gut. Desires you’d held at bay because it was laughable to think you’d ever be in with a chance with someone like him. And perhaps a larger part of you was ashamed by your longings. Kim Seokjin was a bad person by definition. It didn’t matter how charming he was. How potentially misunderstood he was, or how secretly sensitive he was. Romanticised theories that should make you sick at yourself. This was wrong, a small voice whispered furiously in the back of your head, but when had that ever stopped you? 

You hesitated but went for it anyway. It was too late. You’d made your decision. “If we’re confessing things... You’re way too pretty to be as dangerous as you are.” Half a glass of wine and you were already losing yourself. 

He cocked a black, perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “Pretty? That’s a new one.” He chuckled quietly before making a joke. “These genes come from my mom.” Such a normal thing to say. You wanted to believe he was just like anyone else. Or maybe you truly didn’t care… 

“Mr. K–Seokjin,” you corrected yourself quickly. The concept of being on first name terms would take a while to get used to. You took a breath and went for it, fingers reaching for his hand that held his whiskey. What did you have to lose? His lust for you was real. The ball was in your court. 

You circled patterns against the skin between his thumb and index finger. It was stone cold. A sensation you were still not too used to, or maybe it was because this touch meant so much more. Despite the ice, he was marble smooth. You looked at his face. True beauty. He was staring right back at you, holding his breath, waiting for you. Hunger roared inside your body now. You tried your best to keep it under control.

“I know it’s out of hours and I’m not really dressed for it anymore but... I could dance for you right now if you like?” 

You tilted your head to match your question. He copied, giving you a small smile, tone teasing when he spoke. Low and oddly soothing. “Private dances aren’t allowed.” 

“You’re the boss. You make the rules.” You watched him hesitate, mulling your suggestion over in his head. It was actually kind of cute. Had he not expected you to accept his advances so easily? 

He pulled his hand from the tumbler, his fingers gingerly reaching for yours and you clasped onto them. “Mm?” You prodded, watching him all the way. He gave you a tight nod, and that was all you needed to continue. 

Rising up from your seat and leaving your purse at the foot of the stool, he followed you as you guided him by the hand to a set of centre red plush sofas. They curled around a small table, in perfect view of the largest stage. Not two hours ago this place had been filled to the brim, this section worth a hell of a lot of money considering where it was placed, but now his club was empty, safe for you and him. The reminder sent a thrill up you. 

You slowly pushed him down to sit, hand on his chest before you let go and stood over him. A grin on your face. “Best seat in the house. No obstructed view.” 

He didn’t reply, but the look on his face was almost giddy. You spun on your feet, back to him as you slinked away, towards the centre pole, kicking off your shoes. You didn’t get much of a chance to dance with it, this place saved for the ones who had been here longer. So this was an added excitement. 

“This would be highly unprofessional in business hours,” he called after you. His laughter fizzling off when you began to lift your sweater over your head. “What are you doing?” 

You turned back to him, a shy smile on your face. “I can’t entertain you in this.” You threw the mustard knit to the floor. “Will it do?”

He scoffed. Eyes a little wide, pupils starting to blow out. “You could be in anything. I wouldn’t mind.”

You appreciated the sentiment, but you didn’t know if you agreed. You’d removed the showy lingerie you’d been wearing tonight in favour of something more comfortable; a black cotton bralette, and you still had your leggings on as you gripped the pole with both hands. It wasn’t your best outfit, but you hoped it sufficed. 

How odd it was to swing and grind in front of your boss. A man you hadn’t had anything to do with until tonight. Dancing to no music was strange, too. You had to imagine the beats and sounds in your head, praying you didn’t look too wooden, but somehow it began to feel increasingly intimate. Seokjin was a silent spectator, but it didn’t bring you a sense of unease. Excitement coursed through your veins, but you didn’t dare look at him while you moved. This was a reality you still couldn’t get your head around. 

You didn’t know how long you were at it for, lost to the soundless rhythm, but soon enough you needed to catch your breath. He was still sat where you placed him but his eyes were fully black now, trained on your figure. As if in a trance It took a moment for him to notice you had stopped. His legs were spread open, giving you a very great eyeful of his crotch. A couple of buttons on his dress shirt lied open that weren’t before. It gave him an almost bedraggled look. You say almost, because his hair was still perfectly parted at his forehead. You suddenly had the mental image of your fingers running through it, tugging at the ends as he fucked you into the very sofa he sat on. You blinked away the dirty thought, taking a few deep breaths. 

He also blinked, albeit slowly, outstretching one hand to beckon you. ��Come here.” He croaked; voice thick with something that made you burn up. 

You smirked. “That’s against the rules.” Private dances were strictly forbidden. 

“Am I not the boss?” That was so. You laughed, and obeyed instantly, descending the metal steps to make your way to him. “You move exquisitely,” he complimented as you did so. His voice a little more human now. His eyes however, were anything but. Close now, inches apart, you saw the light grey that ringed the dilated pupils. It made him look unreal. Showed him for he really was. Undead. However, fear was the last thing on your mind. 

“Can I touch you?” 

“I thought you made the rules?” This back and fore only thickened the desire in the room, but you truly did appreciate his manners. That, and you really wanted him to touch you. You wanted to touch him too. 

Straddling him slowly, your knees pressing into the soft velvet of the sofa, his cold hands met your waist and you jumped in shock, giggling in reaction. He did nothing but hold on as you attempted to dance atop of him. You say attempted, because you were basically grinding on him by now. You wrapped your arms around his neck, loving the way his breathing was laboured. Chest rising and falling visibly. 

You felt his erection quickly begin to from under you, and it wasn’t long before he acknowledged it. In his own way, of course. “Forgive me for being inappropriate.” He apologised in advance. You held your breath in curiosity. “But have you ever fucked a rotter?” 

With a lack of oxygen you replied instantly. “No.” 

He swallowed. His dick twitched in his expensive slacks. “Are you opposed to it?” 

You replied with only truth, confidence and desire. “Not if you’re the one in question.” 

The noise that tore from his throat was nothing you’d ever heard before. A man starved, finally given the chance of relief. He flew at your mouth, movements hasty and rough. You gladly matched them. Everything was cold, something you weren’t used to at all. Not like this anyway. His tongue like ice ran along your own, both wet but drastic in temperature. It was a contrast that sent your nerves into overdrive. Sensitivity at its highest peak. You clung to his shoulders, rolling your palms over the thick flesh and muscle, as you moaned quite shamelessly into his mouth. 

His hands found your face, gripping you tight as he continued to kiss you furiously. You were close to burning up, heart pounding in your chest at your new reality. A groan from him puzzled your mind as he tore away. “Not here. Not yet,” he rasped, lips wet because of you. He tried to keep him distance but failed, falling into your mouth once again to taste you. “I won’t fuck you in a place like this. You deserve better than that.” 

You clung to him now, deflation beginning to drop to your gut. You were riled up, ready for him, he couldn’t take it away now. Not when he was solid between your spread legs. You gasped when he took your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging it carefully. Everyone knew the dangers of a zombies’ teeth. One false move and it was game over. The risk just seemed to turn you on all the more. You were sick. Sick for him. 

“But I want you so bad. I want to make you feel all the pleasure in the world,” he divulged. He sounded so passionate, so desperate, fresh waves of longing and need flooded your body. Heat pooled against his cock. “Will you let me do that right now? Just a little bit?” 

“Yes,” you practically exclaimed. Overcome and out of breath. You didn’t know what that request pertained but you would take anything for even the slightest bit of relief. 

You had a better understanding once you found yourself under his large, solid body. Spread out on the velvet like your tainted mind had imagined not fifteen minutes previous. He kissed down your neck, lapping at the skin like you could fill him up. A sensation that had your eyes closing, feeling powerless but loving it. Even more so when you felt him between your breasts. It was a wonderful fusion; to be boiling hot but feel his cool, marble touch all over your body. His hands roamed you, familiarising himself with the woman’s body. Every bump, curve and dip, your soft moans encouraging him, until he couldn’t take anymore. 

You pulsed when you felt his long fingers curl behind the waistband of your leggings. “Can I take these off?” He looked you straight in the eyes as he spoke, as if he was reading your face for any hesitation. There was none. You nodded firmly, a trembled ‘yes’ leaving your throat. 

He pulled you forward in one swift motion, propping you up against the plush backrests. He was out of breath, jaw slack and eyes still practically black as he crouched, beginning to tug down the black fabric, your legs thrown over one of his shoulders. You didn’t realise he’d strip you of your underwear too. You were very naked, very quickly. Your bra the only thing left. 

“Beautiful.” He uttered, eyes between your legs before he looked up at you. “You’re beautiful.” 

You smiled at him, something he couldn’t seem to be able to bear, because he was on your mouth again in a flash. He kissed you greedily, low moans escaping him in regular sequence. Spoiled, he made his way down your chest, finding the swell of your breasts to flirt between. It wasn’t long before the fabric was pulled down, one nipple in his mouth while he rubbed the other with the pad of his thumb. That had you moaning, your legs wrapping around his hips to keep him latched to you. Cramped on the sofa, cramped under his body, but loving it. Pleasure swirled and grew heavy in your stomach. Arousal beginning to pool between your legs. It wasn’t long before you were grinding yourself against his body uncontrollably, desperate for some relief down south. 

He pulled away when you began whining, teeth lightly grazing the flushed peak as he went. You gasped. Maybe it really was the danger that turned you wanton. Seokjin grinned your way as he sunk to his knees on the floor. He knew it too. He was already learning. You watched with bated breath as he spread your legs, giving him a very intimate view. You’d be self-conscious by now, maybe even uncomfortable, but not tonight. Not with him. 

You pulsed against his thumb as he touched you, and all you could do was watch as he carefully began to rub at your clitoris, feeling it engorge beneath his cold touch. You moaned softly, hips circling ever so slightly, enjoying the almost cruel pleasure. Your arousal spread, wet noises squelching under his skin, lewd in your ears. 

He looked up at you, eyes black, ringed silver grey. They made you shiver. So did his words. “Can I taste you?” His hair had become out of place, finally, falling in his eyes, and you reached for it, running the white and black strands through your fingers before nodding. 

He dived straight in, those plump, almost blue-red lips encompassing your clit. You gasped as he sucked, pushing into him and clutching his hair in your fist. His cool tongue laved you almost hesitantly at first, searching for what you liked and what made you moan, until he grew confidence. You forgot he was familiarising himself again after so long. Hazy with lust, his movements weren’t calculated. They were made with haste and a fervent urge; hands wrapping around the underside of your thighs to hold them and pull you closer. Letting him feast until his heart content. 

He only pulled away to catch his breath, minutes later, face from the nose down shining with a colourless substance. The same substance coated the heat between your legs and apex of your thighs. Probably stained the sofas too. You were sticky and burning up. Not even the the touch of his cool finger could control it as he ran the digit down your folds. He stopped at your entrance, tip pushing in slowly. You throbbed around nothing, desperate to be filled. He noticed of course, and he made to remove his rings. 

You stopped him. “Keep them on.” You’d already felt the cool metal of his rings against the inside of your thigh when he’d been enamoured with your centre and everything it had to offer. You wanted more. A hell of a lot more. 

He raised his brows in surprise, pausing before shrugging. “Anything for you.” You tried to suppress your moan as he pushed his index finger inside you, palm up, cold metal pressed against your swollen folds. He shifted closer, curling the digit against your velvet-like walls. He seemed to like the feeling, humming to himself, before he studied your face closely.  “When was the last time someone had you like this?” 

You cocked an eyebrow, smirking. “What? Like this specifically? In this bar, spread out naked on the VIP suite? Never.” 

He gave a low chuckle. It shot through your body. “You think you’re funny.” You tried snarking him back but he slipped a second finger inside you, straightening them as he went.  “No but,” he began, slowing thrusting them in and out. Your jaw grew slack as you watched him, the quietest of strained moans leaving you. “I just want to know how many people I have to contend with.” 

That made you laugh. But fine, if he was so curious. “It’s been a while. Nearly a year.” You’d been single since then, your last relationship ending badly, and hook up culture wasn’t what it was since the virus. You smirked his way. “So, no one at all.” 

“That’s great for me then.” He laughed heartily, almost as if he wasn’t three knuckles deeps inside you, and wasting no time getting intimate between your legs again. 

You came hard. Shaking all over when he finally relented his tongue. Covered in a sheen of sweat and out of breath. He continued the movement of his fingers at his leisure, looking up between your body. The tips of his hair were wet and clung together. It wasn’t him—the undead incapable of sweating—but your arousal, which he seemed to be unable to get enough of. In all honesty, it seemed it he was unable to get enough of you full stop. Still determined to please you. 

He shot his fingers deep, ripping a moan from your chest as your back curled. “You’re still sucking me in. What a greedy cunt you have.” Your burned at his crude words, squeezing around his fingers. “Do you consider yourself greedy?” He spoke low and calm, but you could hear the slight quiver to his voice. It made you feel powerful. You hated that word. Greed. But for him… It was different. 

“If it’s for a pleasure like that, then yes,” you laughed breathlessly. 

He tutted, curling his fingers along the ridges of your insides. Coaxing you. Enjoying the way your lower body contorted. “You flatter me. I would say I’ve reverted to novice status again after all these years.” 

You didn’t think so. Unless that was the reality of someone like Kim Seokjin between your legs. He got you coming so good, better than you had in a long time, so maybe it was both options shared. “Somethings you never forget,” you told him simply. 

He didn’t reply, instead rising up, kneeling on the edge of the sofa instead. You lifted your legs to accommodate him. His fingers got deeper and you tightened around them again. “I’m greedy too, you know?” He almost warned, his free hand gripping the back of your neck to tilt your head. Ice. He was speaking as he held his breath, moaning slightly when you did. “I want you to cum again. Please.” He always remembered his manners, even when impatient. 

You faltered. You didn’t know if you could. Yes, it still felt good to have him inside of you, but you were too exhausted to go again surely. He leant over your body, caging you with his solid one as he murmured into your ear. “I want the visual ingrained in my mind forever.” He snapped his wrist hard against you. The pleasure made your eyes roll back. 

“O-kay–!” You gasped out, nodding your head eagerly, gripping onto his shoulders.  It was a big fuck you to the exhaustion. You wanted to cum again too. 

Your body withstood his vicious pace, walls clamping down on him every time he thrusted into you. You were hot and sweaty again, held down by his large build, which only added to your delight. You imagined he was fucking you. Desperate for the real thing. 

“You trust me a lot,” he mused, your hands in his hair now. It was surprising to you that he let you touch it like this. You looked at him curiously, wondering what he could mean, and felt his movements slow. You realised just how hard you’d been holding your breath, gasping for it at the tiniest of reprieve. “One accidental scratch and that’s it, game over. You’re one of me.” He spoke in an almost disarming whisper. It did not frighten you. 

You moaned at the dragging of his fingers, before smiling lazily. “You’re not so foolish.” You’d already taken note that his fingernails were perfectly trimmed when you’d admired his hands at the bar. 

“Maybe not. But in other ways…” he drawled off, lips millimetres from yours. You wanted him to kiss you so bad. “I enjoyed being a fool between your legs. On my knees…” You moaned softly, enjoying his words, eyes still glued to his mouth. It moved away; your chest grew heavy in disappointment. 

“Would you get on your knees for me?” 

His question had you squeezing again. The smirk told you he felt it. “Right now?” You asked, maybe a little too eager. 

“No.” He laughed. “Not right now. Tonight is about you. But next time...” 

You took a shaky breath and nodded. “Gladly.” 

“Good girl,” he smiled at you. The praise went to your head, somewhere else too, and he let go of your neck, readjusting himself to begin picking up the pace again. You watched down your body, lifting your folded legs nearer your chest so you could have a better look at his hand as it pleasured you. His veiny forearm tensing with the force of his thrusts. You were so wet you glistened in the overhead lighting—so did the dark jewel on one of his rings—and you squelched noisily around his fingers, sucking him in over and over again. Greedy, you were. 

“Fuck.” Seokjin cursed under his breath, distracting you, and you found his eyes were locked between your legs too. Mesmerised. “Delectable, as ripe as a peach…” It didn’t take you much longer to cum again. You felt sorry to whoever would sit in the VIP lounge tomorrow night. 

Afterwards, once you’d both calmed down—you, dressed but still quite shaky, and he, now composed but hair still in disarray—he asked if you’d accompany him for dinner at his house next time he was free. You agreed quite instantly. You knew what it meant, and you needed it. Needed him. You also agreed when he insisted he’d arrange for a car to take you home that night. You had your own, but you’d had something to drink, regardless how small, and that just didn’t sit right with him. He’d get someone to drop off your vehicle the next morning. 

Before you left, he bid you goodnight with a kiss to the cheek and thanked you for a lovely night, emphasising just how much he was looking forward to dinner with you soon. Just the thought had you up for hours when you found yourself in bed, alone, but still warm and sated from your two orgasms. 

Seokjin’s house was stunning. A far cry from from your dingy apartment on the tenth floor of an ancient tower block. You were used to it now, but back then you had felt very out of place in such a beautiful home. He arranged for a car to pick you up, very much like the one that had dropped you off home four nights ago. A sleek black thing, with darkened windows. You didn’t know the name, a car was a car, but again, way out of your league. Four days was a short time in someone else’s perspective, but to you it had dragged by. Especially having to see him every night since while you danced in the club. Glances and knowing smirks just made it harder. You understood though, he was a busy man. He called you in the morning, apologising for the short notice, but he’d found a break in his schedule. If you agreed not to be at the club tonight, he could arrange dinner at his place. 

You hadn’t hesitated. Had been preparing all day. The longest soak in the bath you could manage without turning into udon. You even brought the wax strips out. Found the most elegant dress you owned in the back of your closet. A blood red, floor length piece. 

His phone call had felt very formal, but that was him all over, you had only just started finding out. You weren’t 100% sure, but the 0.1% didn’t matter… You were going to have sex together tonight. The thought made you giddy. It was only the shock of his house that distracted you as you stepped inside. Large and elegantly decorated, it did not look at all like you’d imagined. Not that you’d tried to. It was impossible to wonder what an undead mobster’s home would look like, but as a bachelor, it definitely wasn’t this. It almost seemed lonely to have just one person living here. You kept those thoughts to yourself though and let him lead you into the lounge, where, and you assumed this, a butler of some kind handed you a glass of champagne. This was not your world. 

He even had members of staff to cook for him. Food you knew for a fact belonged in michelin starred restaurants. His dining room was grand, the beautifully carved mahogany table able to fit six people. Perhaps this place was once his family home. It made sense. He sat at the head, while you were placed directly opposite him. The distance was a little unnerving, but he was able to converse in small talk exceptionally well. It was lighthearted and casual, and soon eased you up. 

You found it intriguing when he doused everything he ate in hot sauce, unable to stop yourself from giggling and he looked up, confusion etched in his features before he realised what had amused you so. You had no idea the need was that bad. 

“Nothing tastes good without a little kick,” he explained, putting the bottle down. “Even the brains.” 

You laughed. “You must go through hot sauce by the gallon.” 

He smiled before reaching for his glass of red wine. “Me being a rotter really doesn’t phase you, does it?” He still seemed to be unable to get over the surprise. 

You gave him a small shrug, picking up your cutlery. “It’s the world we live in now.” You sounded like a broken record. That was your explanation for everything. 

You waited for him to continue the conversation. There was a pause and then– “Thanks to your father.” 

You froze, an instant sense of dread filling you at the casual remark. You swallowed, looking across at Seokjin. “H-how did you know?” 

He raised a perfect eyebrow as he brought the glass to his mouth. You watched half the red liquid disappear. The clank as he put it down on the wood made you flinch, and your heart thudded as you waited for his reply. He gave you smile. It didn’t seem fully loaded. “Is that you undermining my power?” 

Whatever his intentions were you panicked regardless. “No, I just–” 

“Don’t worry, this isn’t some kind of trick. Some kind of revenge...” He interrupted with a quick chuckle. Relief flooded you. Not that you had thought such things explicitly, but Seokjin was the man he was… Your lust hadn’t made you forget that much. He had found out what you’d spent the last three years or so trying to hide after all… 

“I have brought you here to fuck.” Despite your alarm, something squeezed in your gut and pulsed between your legs at his frankness. “I’m just curious... You hide it well. Why?” 

Unsure what to do, you took a mouthful of food. The chewing letting you think for a moment. Did you really want to divulge your family affairs with him? He was a man of few words and considering what he was—dangerous and undead—you couldn’t be sure to trust his intentions. Maybe you’d made a mistake coming here. Letting his words and actions cajole you. 

“Good?” He asked, watching you eat. 

You looked at him and nodded. Wiping your face with the napkin placed on your lap you decided to give him some of the details. Not all. “It’s not something I want to be associated with.” 

Seokjin frowned. “You don’t agree?” 

You shook your head. That had come out wrong. “I don’t agree with my parents’ greed.” 

When the zombie virus had hit four years ago your father, a highly gifted scientist, had been one of the first to try and recreate it. To produce something better. For what, you didn’t quite understand. He had no desire to turn himself or his family. No, you guessed it was for the fame, the money…the glory… In the end, it took a number of people to create such a thing, but yes, he’d been one of them… Your mother had been so proud. Sick. That was still what you thought now. Turning the world into undead creatures who needed human brains to survive seemed utterly bizarre. Disturbing… But like you said, the glory seemed to be their fuel… 

You hadn’t spoke to either of them in two years and prior to that, conversations were few and far between. To cut them out of your life hadn’t been a sudden decision though. Your whole life you’d always felt like you didn’t belong. Born to the wrong family. Maybe that was a problem with you. An issue you didn’t want to give much thought about, but one thing was for certain, you didn’t think anything like them. You’d spend most of your life rebelling. Maybe you were still doing so… The club you worked at would see them foaming at the mouth. You, surrounded by the people your father helped create. And Seokjin… Seokjin was a man your parents would be horrified to see you with. That thought brought you great pleasure. 

“You don’t get along?” You shook you head in reply. Surprisingly it was enough for him. “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.” Or maybe he already knew that… He probably knew everything about you. He’d been humouring you all this time. For some reason that didn’t scare you like it should’ve. It was quite reassuring to know that despite everything, you were the one he wanted. Maybe your self esteem was shot to pieces. Maybe you were just an idiot. 

You smiled. “Thanks.” 

He jerked his head towards the direction of your plate. “Let’s not get distracted for too long. Dinner is getting cold.” 

You ate with more small talk. He asked if you’d ever been out the country and when you’d replied yes, he insisted that you tell him all about Japan, like he’d never been there before. Maybe he hadn’t… You didn’t ask. In all honestly, you were positive he was trying his best to relax you again after his slight interrogation. It was endearing. 

Once dinner was done and his staff had taken the used dishes away, you suddenly remembered what was to come next. You began to feel a little out of your depth. The night at the club had happened out of the blue, but this was pre-planned. Nerves itched at your skin, just wondering how this would go down now, but that didn’t mean you weren’t excited. Giddy. 

“You really do look so beautiful tonight.” He praised quietly, admiring you from across the table. He had already told you that when he’d greeted you at his door, but you would never get enough. “I feel a little underdressed.” 

You scoffed. “You look perfect. As always.” He was always found in a suit, so his attire for tonight was nothing new. Apart from the velvet suit jacket he wore. It was fancy, something you could never imagine him gracing the club with, and the cream embroidered shirt underneath suited him beautifully. His hair tonight was swept above his forehead, accentuating his breath-taking bone structure. 

He closed his eyes as he smiled in silent thanks. When they opened you noticed they were getting darker, grey almost unnoticeable from where you sat. You suddenly thought about him between your legs. You squeezed them together under the table, trying to quell your dirty thoughts. You think he noticed, or maybe he was remembering back too.

“I’m surprised you can’t feel it,” he mused on cue. 

“Feel what?” You sounded slightly shaky. Out of breath. 

“My need for you is practically raging from my body,” he explained simply. 

Something heavy dropped into your gut. Confidence began to wash over you again. It was nice to feel this powerful. “You hide it well.” 

“Do I?” He laughed. “I must have more self control than I give myself credit for. I’ve been agitated ever since that night… Unable to stop imagining getting my hands on you again.” 

You let out a tremble of a breath. More images flew around the forefront of your mind. The coldness of his hands caressing your body. The ice of his tongue inside your mouth, against your skin, laving against your… You closed your eyes, unable to cope. He murmured your name softly. As if he was desperate for you to look his way again. You obeyed. “I’m so incredibly attracted to you.” 

You could hear your heart thudding against your ribcage. It almost felt strange, like it didn’t belong to you. When you chuckled, it didn’t sound like you either. Your lust for him was taking over. Time was nearing. “You already said, Seokjin.” You liked the sound of his name as it curled off your tongue. 

He chuckled back. “Am I boring you? I thought flattery would be first protocol.” 

You continued to laugh at his choice of words, shaking your head. “There’s no need. I’m here, aren’t I?” 

He held your stare. It was almost like he was staring inside of you. “That you are.” He sounded like he still couldn’t believe his luck. He rolled his shoulders. “Well. I can still say what I like. It’s all true. I’m not trying to manipulate you here.” You chose to believe him. “Although... You don’t look like someone who falls victim to such things.” You shrugged, playing it casual. Maybe he was correct. You’d long stopped giving men the power to get inside your mind. You hoped it would hold with Seokjin. 

“I’ll cut to the chase then.” He continued, realising you weren’t going to divulge anything that could confirm his assumptions. “One night won’t be enough. I want to enter a sexual relationship with you.” 

Your eyes widened. Surprise visible on your face no doubt. Call you naïve, maybe clueless, but that possibility hadn’t crossed your mind. A one off was all you’d imagined. Seokjin had thirsted after you for months now, it seemed. Until he couldn’t ignore it any longer. In your head, one night would have been enough for him. What was so special about you? It seemed ludicrous he’d want something permanent. Taken aback, all you could do was listen to him. 

“These,” he paused, “urges I have, they’ve been suppressed for far too long. I have curiosities. Maybe they’ve always been there, morphing with the passing months...years.” He shrugged, and you wondered why he had stifled himself for so long. You also wondered why you. Why were you so special?  “It wasn’t until I noticed you that these thoughts...fantasies, became unbearable.” 

You took his words like they were information at a business meeting. In fact, he was talking to you like such. It was strange. He was talking about imagining fucking you most probably, and here you were just nodding your head. You squeezed your legs under the table again. You were hot. Your excitement was building again and you were trying your best to control yourself. This wasn’t normal. You shouldn’t be here, but your desire for him seemed to have crept up and snaked its way around your throat. 

“I don’t want to overwhelm you but I need things to be in black and white.” 

“I understand.” 

“You do?” He raised both eyebrows in surprise. You felt powerful with the knowledge you kept proving him wrong. “Your pleasure is my utmost importance. All of my fantasies include you enjoying yourself. Rest assured. However,” he looked down at the table. Was he flustered? Feeling awkward? How unusual. “There are some things I want to indulge in that aren’t to everyone’s taste. I do not wish to trap or force you into anything. If you don’t agree, then that’s that. No hard feelings. This isn’t a sweet or romantic joining. I don’t know if I’m truly capable of that…”

You puzzled in your head. What an odd thing to say. You hadn’t so much as thought about this being anything about romance. You knew where you stood. You hoped he wasn’t assuming that’s what you thought. You’d given up on love and romance a long fucking time ago. “I don’t expect it to be,” you added, wanting it to be clear. 

He paused, smiled slightly and then chucked. “Then you understand I have this animalistic need to take you any which way I’m allowed.” He made sure your eyes were locked when he spoke. So he could see your reaction. It was hard tying to keep your expression neutral as you imagined just as he’d said. The corner of your mouth definitely twitched. Of course he saw. You could tell by the way he tried to suppress his smirk. 

“I can be patient if you need more time.” He continued. “I am very much insistent that it’s you—there is no one else—however, if you disagree or discover I bring you no joy, I expect one day I’ll find another.” You admired his honesty. “Also. Selfish of me I know, but if you agree then there must be no other sexual partners during our attachment. Please.”  “Seokjin...” You began, guessing he’d finished his proposition of sorts. 

“I know.” He interrupted before you could say anything. “This is a lot to take in. You’re overwhelmed.” 

“No,” you insisted. “I agree. I’m willing to give this a chance.” 

He let your words marinate before swallowing. “What I’ve said doesn’t scare you?” 

You scoffed. “No.” You’d already knew sex with him wouldn’t be conventional. You’d found that out from his very brazen attitude and mouth the night you were spread against the club’s VIP sofa. Your only mistake had been thinking it would be just once. You felt giddy knowing there would now be endless encounters. You craved him just like he craved you. It was a new sensation, something that had only been been simmering since you caught his eyes on you as you danced, but it was powerful and steadfast, and needed to be sated. Tonight. 

He nodded to himself, seemingly deciding then and there to start taking action. “We’ll take it slow. Learn from one another.” 

“That sounds good,” you agreed, unconsciously sitting up straighter, leaning in almost eagerly. 

“Tonight,” he hushed. “Tonight I just want to feel you. Pleasure you. To become accustomed with your body and what you like.” 

You let out a shaky breath. You could almost feel the impending pleasure running through your veins. You’d had a taste of it a few nights ago. “I feel very much the same. Tonight is just the beginning.” 

He exhaled through his nose, jaw tensed before he looked you straight in the eyes. Raising his hand he beckoned you. “Come.” You were beginning to see a pattern, and just like that you obeyed. His tastes were of the dominate kind. You would gladly listen. 

Rounding the corner you made your way over and stopped right in front of him. He scraped his chair back, making room between him and the table, and motioned you to slot in between. 

“When you said you’d get on your knees for me…” He reminded you. A suggestion of sorts. Maybe it was put that way to soften the order. 

Your eyes widened, looking at the door that lead into the kitchen. “Here?” 

“Don’t worry.” He smiled, taking your hands. “No one will will come in. They shall be leaving soon anyway. They won’t interrupt us.” 

You listened, finding yourself in his lap, dress crumpled around your middle, creasing to no end, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. Not when you could feel his erection pressing into you. You took initiative. Rising up to let your palm caress him. You’d been dying to get your hands on him ever since the night at the club. To feel him full and thick and long between your fist, in your mouth, in your– You reached to kiss him. He slipped his tongue inside your mouth like he’d been waiting for it, grunting when you gave his dick one quick squeeze. 

“Seokjin,” you breathed, lips sticky as you pulled away. “Forgive my manners. I never confessed my attraction towards you too the other night.” It was easy to let him do all the talking, but you wanted to let him know you were 100% into this because you wanted him too. It didn’t go one way. You weren’t just agreeing to this for the hell of it. 

He reached for your face, rubbing the apples of your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. “No need to flatter me,” he smiled, dropping one thumb to the edge of your mouth. He tugged your bottom lip down slightly and met the tip of your tongue. “I guess my tongue did the persuading, mm?” 

You swiped across the cool flesh and pulled away with a grin. “Trust me, if there was no attraction that wouldn’t have happened.” 

He laughed, genuinely amused, before grabbing you by the hips, pulling you into his chest. “Enough chit chat. I thought you were supposed to be sucking my dick?” 

Just like the rest of him, his cock was cool. Something you had never experienced before. It was swollen, filled with blood, but ice cold. Impossible, yet here you were. Knelt between his spread legs, laving him against your tongue. You had the intense urge to please him as best you could. Show him what he’d been missing all this time and just worship the beautiful, pretty gift between his thighs. He seemed to be unable to get used to the hot, wet velvet of your mouth, eyes glued to you, watching every move you made with soundless gasps. His hands gripped the arms of the chair at first, knuckles purple, until he decided he couldn’t hold back any longer. Taking your hair in his fists, his rings cold against your scalp, he held on tight, finally letting himself moan when you slackened your jaw and slid him down your throat as far as you could take him. 

He liked it when you choked on his dick. He froze every time, digging his fingers into your scalp. He liked when you slicked him with your fist, thumb circling the sensitive slit that pooled drops of precum all over the place. He really had fought off all sexual urges for so long it seemed. You wondered if he’d even attempted to pleasure himself? It wasn’t something you were brave enough to ask, but you were brave enough for other things…

You wanted him to experience all the pleasure he’d been missing over the years, tongue pointing and going south, licking thin but long lines up and across his scrotum. He gasped, the noise choking in his throat as he jerked, chair legs screeching against the tiled floor. You shuffled closer on your knees, holding his cock tall in your hand so you could slowly suck one of his balls into your mouth, softly caressing the cool encasing with your tongue. You made sure to look him in the eyes as you did so, feeding of the reactions he gave you. His mouth fallen open in a soundless groan. 

You smirked as you pulled away, pleased with yourself, and began kissing up his length, swirling your tongue across the cool marble, pressing your plush lips in the flesh; getting him obscenely wet. His fingers found their way around the back of your neck, holding you firmly as you popped him back into your mouth, sucking intently on the head of his cock, your fist working the base of him, slick noises filling the air, mixed with his low, staccato moans. 

When you began getting lower, hallowing your cheeks to accommodate him, your tongue tracing patterns along the underside of his thickness, his hands flew to the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair to stop you. You pulled back instantly, waiting for some kind of response from him. He was close. Dangerously close. You understood that. 

“I want –” He cut himself short, voice gruff, and cleared his throat, hips jumping when you kissed the tip of his cock. He tried again, taking one hand to caress your face. “I want to cum on your face.” Your legs squeezed together. Excitement overcoming you. “Please.” He added that as an afterthought, forgetting his manners with the urge to cum. 

You smiled, slowly taking his hand from your cheek to guide it to the base of his cock, exchanging yours with his. He gripped himself tightly, and you squeezed your palm over his fist. Giving him permission with a sordid whisper. “Be my guest.” 

You waited for it on your knees, between his spread legs and watched as he raked his beautiful hand over his equally as beautiful cock. Slowly at first, exploring the pleasure and then he sped up, jerking the top in tight, quick motions, chair legs screeching across the floor again as raised up, tightening his hold on your head to keep you in place. His breathing laboured before a strangled roar left him. 

You prepared yourself, closing your eyes as you felt the first spurt hit your nose and drip down your top lip. The second flew across your left cheek. Unlike the rest of him, this substance was searing hot, shocking you so much you gasped. The third spurt, stronger, landed in your mouth. You swallowed and savoured the taste. It wasn’t over. It just kept coming, coating your face and congealing in the air, as Seokjin furiously tried to get every last drop out. Savouring the pleasure, moaning in sweet relief until he grew weak from exertion, collapsing into his seat.

You peeled your eyes open, cum glooping from your right eyebrow and onto your eyelid and watched him with awe. All that filled the dining room was his rough breaths as he tried to get a hold of himself. He ran his clean hand through his hair, strands of white falling down, and finally took a look at you. He was silent for a long time, eyes still black, the crescents of silver sending a shiver up your spine. He leaned over, pulling some of your hair behind your ear, saving it from the mess that coated your face. He looked at you with wonder and amazement in his eyes, like he was trying to retain the image of you like this forever. 

When he spoke, his voice sounded different. Softer, warmer. Weaker… “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on…” Two of his fingers ran along your bottom lip, spreading some of his cum along the way. “Like this…” He awed. “It takes my breath away.” 

He reached behind you, his embroidered napkin coming into view. The set was probably more expensive than your outfit. He began cleaning your face up, and you let him obediently, still kneeling on the hard floor. It was all worth it though. For him. For what was to come. 

When he was done, he threw the soiled cloth to the table. There was still some cum on his fingers, where he’d rubbed your lip, and he opened your mouth, dotting your tongue with the fluid before he stuck two fingers inside, holding the muscle down before he prodded you to suck them. You did so, mimicking how you had pleasured his cock, letting your tongue trail along the expanse of his rings. He groaned, the other hand cupping your face to make you look at him. He opened his mouth, sounded beside himself. “The things I want to do to you...” 

You got no sleep that night. Fucking one another until the sun began to shine through his drapes, and then some more, letting him enjoy getting familiar with the sensation again, but also feeling a pleasure like no other yourself. No man you’d ever been with had been into sex this much, and his stamina, his strength, was like nothing you’d ever experienced before. He fucked you, quite literally, to glorious, pleasure-soaked tears. Three years really hadn’t hindered his skill at all, but he blamed it on his greed, incapable of taking a compliment. Nonsense, but you soon got used to that charming personality trait… 

The weeks had rolled into months, and you continued just like that. Meeting and fucking any chance you got. It was him who called the shots. He was a busy man after all. You worked to his schedule. Fucked to his schedule, and luckily for you, you were in a position to drop work every time he called. Direct permission from the boss. 

True to his word, you took it slow. Going further and further each time until your body was trained to him. His was trained to you too. What he liked, how he liked it and when to do it. You knew how to read his moods and work with it each time you met up for sex. There was a mutual trust between the two of you, and you would give your all if it meant pleasing him, because it brought you pleasure too. 

Sex had always been just something you’d done. The guys got their rocks off and maybe if you were lucky, you’d get one orgasm, probably gifted by your own hands. Even when in love, sex hadn’t been this enjoyable nor exciting. It was all new with Seokjin. You lived for pushing yourself to the limit, finding something new and trying it. Greedy. Maybe that was the correct word, Seokjin had been right. You were greedy for one another. You’d be dammed. The desire and the pleasure you just knew you couldn’t get from anyone else. The chemistry was on a totally different level, and it just kept getting stronger. 

Seokjin did have a softer appetite though. It wasn’t all hard and extreme. That was the beauty of it. He wasn’t a one-sided dom who used you as some kind of sex toy. He was gentle and caring, even when he had you tied to his bed, blindfolded and at his mercy. Sometimes he just wanted you. Raw and passionate. An unspoken vulnerable. You think in a way, even though you would never say it to his face, he sought comfort in you. On days when he was tired or stressed, he wanted you. Only you. There was a comfort there. And you gladly obeyed. How could you not? You were flattered he chose you to share this with. Touched, in a way. 

Your bond only grew, until any awkwardness was a thing of the past. You could tease one another, joke around. It was surprising at first to find out someone like him could become embarrassed and shy when provoked about certain things. Like how he had been so formal in the beginning. He insisted it was because he was so awkward about his extended inexperience fighting head to head with the raging desire he had for you… It had sent him frenzied, until he had to do something about it. You were so glad he had…

Your relationship for the most part was left undetected. It was chosen that way, to keep things strictly professional at work, but also you suspected it was something more. He requested for you not to tell your friends or family, and the only one who knew about your arrangement on his side, was the driver who took you to and from his home. Seokjin’s line of work came with danger, and even though you didn’t voice it, you guessed that danger spread to anyone he was involved with; family, friends, lovers…

You say mostly undetected because of course there had been a slip up somewhere along the line. Working in such close proximity, perhaps you had been foolish. The club was always packed, someone was bound to pick up on it, and unluckily for you, it happened. Give you a major reality check to go with it. 

You had been involved with Seokjin for near to three months when it did, juggling nights at work and nights spent with him. More often than not, both at the same time. That night wasn’t one though. He was away from the club altogether, so you got changed at your usual pace, surrounded by the rest of the human girls as they chatted. That night rotter talk filled the dressing room. There had been one watching one of the girls, Jaeha, dancing. He’d taken a shine to her and asked her out for dinner at closing time. She’d agreed, but now she was getting doubts, some of the other girls laying uncertainties in her head. Of course the conversation had turned to sex. It always did where men were concerned. But this was different. They were talking about having sex with a zombie. It was times like these you were thankful there was separate dressing rooms for the human and undead girls. Although some would probably still carry on the conversation regardless. 

“What about you?” 

You looked up, realising that Jaeha was directing the question your way. “Hm?” You played dumb, even though you had been listening to every word of the conversation. You just didn’t want to answer. 

“What would you imagine it feels like being with a rotter?” 

You gave a small shrug, realising you had no choice now and turned away as you replied. “I don’t know.” 

“Wait. What was that?” She exclaimed excitedly and you inwardly sighed. You guess something about your body language hadn’t been believable. “You have?!” You gave another shrug but she wasn’t having any of it. “Look me in the eyes and say you haven’t!” 

You faced her again, defeated, realising you had about half a dozen other pairs of eyes looking at you too. “Fine. I have.” 

A couple others squealed. Maybe it was an age thing. You were a few years older than a handful of the girls. At twenty-two you had probably been easily excitable and naïve too. Scrap that. You definitely had been. 

“Who?!”

Shit. She really wasn’t going to drop this, was she? You were hoping admitting to it would have been enough. You did up your jeans as you dismissed her. “It doesn’t matter who. It’s just sex. No different.” 

“No different? But they’re cold,” she whined, shuddering at the thought. “Doesn’t that feel weird?” 

You opened your mouth but found yourself stuck. This conversation was making you feel uncomfortable. Thankfully, a voice came to your rescue. 

“You just get used to it.” You looked to your left to see Yeeun coming into view behind 

the group of girls. She’d been here nearly the longest, your age, maybe a year older. She kept herself to herself most of the time, but you guessed she wanted to put this conversation to rest. That, and maybe put you out of your misery. 

Jaeha turned and opened her mouth to ask more questions, but Yeeun spoke over her. “Jaeha, just make sure to be careful if you decide to go for dinner with that guy, yeah? Undead doesn’t mean he’s inherently bad but coming to a place like this should make you think. Keep your wits about you.” 

Just like she’d wanted (and you) the conversation died. Everyone left soon after that, you close behind, but Yeeun was still getting changed, distracted by her phone. You stopped by the door as an afterthought, wanting to say something to her. “Thanks,” you called, waiting for her acknowledgment. 

She slowly turned and smiled. “No problem.” You watched as she shoved her cell into her jacket pocket. “Um, you got a minute?”

You nodded, unable to guess what she wanted. She sighed, almost like she was psyching herself up. “First, this isn’t me trying to get up all in your business, alright?” You nodded again, slower this time. A sicky feeling in your stomach. “Everyone else may be clueless when it comes to who you’re fucking, but I’m not.” 

You tensed. Maybe you’d misinterpreted her motives. She was trying to put you out of your misery yes, but it ran deeper than that. She was trying to save your skin. She knew. How? You were always careful to never talk in public with Seokjin. Yet… maybe your reluctance to leave early like you used to do roused suspicion from her. Maybe she’d seen you both leave together… Foolish. You panicked, played stupid. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

She stared at you, calling your bluff. “Be careful, okay? You’re an adult, you can do whatever the hell you like, but just don’t forget who he is.” You kept quiet. There was no point denying it. “And I’m not on about him being undead. He’s...” She hesitated before deciding to go for it. “Just don’t forget he’s responsible for a lot of this city’s darkness.” 

Unexplainable anger filled you. You didn’t like being judged, but more than that, the idea of someone judging Seokjin made your blood boil. She didn’t know him like you did. How kind he was when you were alone, how gentle… He wasn’t what people described him as behind closed doors. But what was the point? You knew you couldn’t tell her that. She’d just laugh at you, tell you how deluded you were. Maybe that’s what you were scared of... That you really were deluded. In over your head… 

You watched her shrug on her jacket, her mind at ease now that she’d warned you. “You don’t have a problem working in his club though?” 

She froze before pulling out a cigarette from her pocket and chuckling. “It’s money, babe.” She placed the rolled tube in between her lips and spoke through it. “We all need it, and at the end of the day, I’m not the one fucking him.” She finished with a casual shrug. As if she had no worries. You had plenty. 

You swallowed, careful to keep your voice steady. “Well thanks for your concern. I’ll bear it in mind.” And the you left, wiping away a stray tear from your left eye. 

You didn’t tell Seokjin about what happened that night, certain that Yeeun didn’t care enough to tell anyone. She wasn’t like that, hated gossip like you. You were also worried that if he found out, he’d do something. You didn’t want her to get fired. She said she’d needed the money after all. Maybe your worry went even further than that… You didn’t know. If Seokjin was as bad as everyone seemed to think, you really didn’t know… 

So you kept it to yourself. But you couldn’t shake the exchange. Seokjin noticed there was something wrong with you instantly. You saw him two nights afterwards, seeking distraction in the only way you knew with him. Sex. He was tired after his “business trip” and you went along with it, using it as a way to explain your unusual behaviour, so the sex was quick but indulgent. Definitely needed. You clung to him because you’d missed him. You clung to him because you were beside yourself. Torn and unable to truly feel fine. You’d thought being reunited again would reassure you. But it didn’t. 

“Smoking again?” You asked him after you were done, watching him reach for the pack of cigarettes he kept on the nightstand. 

He chuckled, knowing you hated the dirty habit. The addiction. Maybe in a way you were a hypocrite. “My insides are rotten anyway. What can it do to me?” He was correct you supposed. Rotten to the core. He was untouchable. 

However, to your surprise he put them back, wrapping his arm around you like it had been. Your head on his chest, protected from the chill by a fur blanket. His temperature always seemed to get you after sex, your own levelling out. Plus with the winter months now it was harder. He wasn’t the best to cuddle with after sex, an activity that seemed to be happening more often, so you had to separate your bodies with warmth. You let silence spread over you both, lost in your own head with a whirlwind of thoughts. 

“Hey,” he prodded gently after a little while, wanting you to look at him. “You’re lying to me. You’re not tired.” You didn’t bother to deny it. He sounded hesitant when he carried on. “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” 

You stayed silent for a moment. unsure how to begin, but you knew you couldn’t continue like this. You needed some type of reassurance from his mouth. Selfishly, you needed your conscience eased. You explained with a question, at least you hoped you did. “Do you like being who you are?” 

Seokjin tensed under you, his expression becoming guarded and you instantly feared you’d crossed a line. He knew you were referring to his status, not his being. Something pretty much off limits. Discussed vaguely in the beginning, your joining was never about that. Now it seemed like a forbidden subject. You understood Seokjin saw you as an escape. He didn’t want to discuss work, and you didn’t want to hear it. Yet, it was looming over you, like an ominous presence. You needed something. You could live with who he was if he was as unsure of it as you were. You were positive. He just needed to be honest with you. 

You waited patiently, and just as you resigned yourself to stone cold silence, he spoke. 

“It was handed to me. I don’t particularly have a choice. It’s all I’ve ever known.” If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that was bitterness in his tone. “My father is frail now. I don’t know how long he has left. I want to make him proud, regardless of how stupid it sounds. It’s fucked up, I know that. Especially with life as it is now.” 

You’d long given up trying to make your father proud, but you understood. Seokjin’s experiences were vastly different to yours, but you understood. His was a matter of life or death, you were sure of it. Yours was just the gradual estrangement from the people who had raised you. He confirmed the seriousness of his detriment in his next sentence. 

“There’s nothing I can do about it. It’s my life. It’s expected of me. If I refused, said no... Ran away like a coward... God knows what would happen to me.” 

Cruel of you maybe, but it was warming, reassuring to know he’d had such thoughts. Soothing to know in a lot of ways, he didn’t want this life. Selfish of you like you’d known. Trying to ease your own conscience, but here in his arms perhaps you really didn’t care. You didn’t care what Yeeun thought, what others would think if they ever found out. Your parents… None of it mattered because you knew that deep down, in his core, Seokjin was a good man. Rotten or not. He was good to you, and all that mattered. Yes, you were selfish, but you didn’t care. 

“Fuck.” He cursed quietly, voice thick with emotion before he laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. “What a world we live in. When being a motherfucking zombie is considered normal and the least of your problems.” 

You didn’t laugh along but kissed him softly. You think it stunned him, shutting him up instantly when you pulled away, until he exhaled, pulling you into another, longer, even sweeter kiss. He wrapped you in his arms tightly and you’d never felt safer. He got you onto your back, rolling on top of you, the fur separating your bodies, just, and your need for him burnt away inside your chest. 

But he pulled away before you could do anything about it, opening his mouth to say something, expression hesitant. You cupped his cold face, trying your hardest to spread some of your warmth through his body, silently encouraging him to speak. He smiled thankfully. “I didn’t choose that either, by the way. This rotter body.”

Your forehead furrowed, trying to make sense of his words. “That shocks you,” he noted. “I know why. You think I wanted this, just like everyone else.” You opened your mouth to deny it, but what was the point? You hated gossip, like you’d said so many time before, never listened to it, but you had let it sink it’s way into your mind without realising. 

Greed. You thought he was like all the rest. Seeking power. Your attraction to him overshot your distaste for the ghastly act of will, but maybe deep down, you’d hoped it wasn’t true. 

“It’s okay,” he reassured, twisting slightly to kiss the palm of your hand. Then the tips of your fingers as you sought the touch. “I know what people say about me. They’re wrong though.” 

“What happened?” You were whispering, asking without thinking. You didn’t want to pry but Seokjin had never shared this much before. You didn’t think he’d ever shared this much before. To anyone. 

“A miscellaneous deal gone wrong. I won’t bore you with the details, but I was scratched.” Your eyes widened, heart ached for him. How wrong people were. How wrong you were. “I took it in my stride, still do. I guess in some ways it helped me, in others not so much... But,” he stopped himself, letting his eyes close as he kissed your fingertips again. When he opened them the grey looked sadder than usual. “Who will follow after me? The family name gone. Although maybe that isn’t a bad thing.” He added with an afterthought, chuckling humourlessly. “I would want no kid of mine doing this. I don’t know. What I’m trying to say is, if there was ever a cure, I’d take it in a heartbeat.” Your own heart beat loudly in your chest. “Wishful thinking, right?”

You were stunned to silence now, trying to make sense of everything. You wanted to reassure him. There was adoption, he needn’t have to dwell, but then it seemed like such a human, vulnerable thing to get hurt over. It made your throat tighten, eyes well up. You had never imagined his anguish over being undead. He always seemed so casual, so put together. His human life was stolen from him cruelly and he was just left to deal with it, alone. You didn’t care if that was his by choice or not. It made sense now, that in ways he had hidden from himself, and why. He was ashamed. He wasn’t greedy, he was lost. 

“I don’t think so,” you murmured, caressing his face. “If they can mutate the disease and inject people with it, they can find an antidote.” 

He smiled sadly. “Do you think they want that? This world is a corrupt place. Everyone has their own selfish reason’s for letting this disease take over.” He was correct. A cure would never be made by any official. But there could be other options. One day. Hope wasn’t lost. 

“You can still live a normal life,” you insisted. 

“I can never age. Who would want that? Amongst other things. I have everything against me.” 

Something strong tore through your chest. It almost took your breath away, but you couldn’t voice it. You were too afraid. “I don’t think so.” You replied instead. It was hard to keep your voice stable. “What’s inside is more important.”

He chuckled sadly. “Angel, I’m rotten on the inside. Maybe on the outside too.” 

His pet name warmed your heart, always did, but his words made it weep. You swallowed, coating your dry mouth and squeezed his face, clinging to him, hoping he’d understand what you were trying to say. “Not to me.” 

He smiled, his eyes warming up and leant down to kiss you. “Thank you.” You held him close, sinking into his mouth. The cold was unnoticeable. He did understand. You could feel it in his kiss, taste it on his tongue. 

He drew back slowly, just before he lost himself entirely. He had more to say before then. “I have never felt more comfortable with anyone than I have with you. More human...” He trailed off and laughed quietly. “Even when I was one.” He kissed you once more. Like he couldn’t keep away. Hands holding the sides of your face, he lingered, your breaths mingling. 

“You care for me without judgement. That’s never happened before. I’ve never had that feeling.” 

You squeezed his wrists in silent understanding, eyes glassy. You couldn’t speak if you tried. Couldn’t let him know you felt exactly the same, in fear of bursting into tears. He understood though. Of course he did. 

And that’s where you were now. This present moment. The aftermath of such a confession only bringing you closer together. There were silent boundaries that had been made that night. Seokjin did not wish to go into detail about his days, nor did you want him to. You were at ease now, knowing you had been right about him, the others wrong. Yes, he wasn’t perfect. No one was. Yes, maybe if you knew the cold, hard facts, you wouldn’t be able to bear it, but you were happy being ignorant to that. It wasn’t greed that drove you, for Seokjin and all the pleasure he could give you. He had been wrong. You made him see that. It was a selfishness, and that was okay. It had to be. They were two different things. You were selfish for the happiness he made you feel, and likewise for him. 

For the first time in your life, you were truly happy. Felt truly understood and not judged, and so did Seokjin. Despite your different life experiences, you were the same in your hearts; yours alive, his rotten, but it didn’t matter—and that’s why you’d been so drawn to him. Twin flames in this dark, overbearing world. You knew the weight of such words, but you didn’t care. Not when you had something good, something pure, and you were clinging to it with all your might. 

As much as you had put him on a pedestal in the beginning, not quite believing he’d chosen you, wanted you. Potentially put your worth on his choice, it didn’t matter. Because he had done and felt the same. He had always been thankful you’d made the decision that you had. He was thankful that you wanted him. Still, even now. In ways, you had given him certain confidence and esteem that he’d been lacking. Similar to how he helped bloom yours too. Made you feel beautiful, sexy. It was not one sided with you two. It was real, and pure, and shared. Your admiration for one another. Your love…

Yes, this had been a simple arrangement. Sex. But it wasn’t so simple anymore. You both understood that. There would come a day when you’d have to acknowledge it, your feelings… It was potentially soon, or you could just keep hiding for a little while longer, but it would happen. Seokjin didn’t think he was capable of love after his turn. You remembered him saying something similar the first night you spent together, about romance. You knew now it was because he hated what he was. Undead. He had already lost so much of himself over the years, and to become infected only tore away more. But he was wrong. He was capable. You felt the love he gave you every day. Even if it was the silent kind. It shone from him, warmed you up when you clung to his ice cold flesh. 

So yes, you were selfish, so was he. But you didn’t care. Not when you had one another to hide behind. 

“How do you want me, Sir?” You silked the words, excitement bubbling away in the pit of your stomach. That was your little thing. What you called him sometimes. When he was in the mood for it. 

He smiled at you, but it didn’t seem to reach his eyes. You tensed, studying him almost intently now. Maybe there had been a reason he was delayed. You opened your mouth to ask if everything was okay, but he beat you to it. 

“No need for that tonight.” He sounded exhausted, beaten. You realised how terribly you’d misread the signs, feeling a little guilty as you sat up, tightening your gown over your chest. He walked over to his bureau, steps heavy on the wooden floor. Long ago had you come to accept his insistence on wearing shoes indoors, but you watched him step out of his boots now. Loosening the red tie around his neck before removing it completely. 

You waited politely for him to continue in some way. Not wanting to push an explanation for his depleted mood. He removed his rings one by one, dropping them into a glass bowl. That’s where he spoke to. “Today’s been hard. I–“ He stopped himself, unable or unwilling to go on. You wondered if you should press him. You realised keeping things bottled up like he did wasn’t good. But you were scared. Scared it could ruin things. You bit on your bottom lip, hard, stifling yourself. 

He turned to you then, a longing in his eyes. You knew that look very well. It was a yearning for you. “I just need some solace.” 

You nodded slowly, outstretching your arms for him to meet you. He rounded the corner of the bed in a few, quick strides and dove into you. His mouth finding yours in a deep, intense kiss. You wrapped your arms tightly around his shoulders, feeling him squeeze his around  your chest, like he needed to make sure you were really there. He spoke no more and that was okay. 

His mouth and tongue found your neck, kissing the skin like it could kiss back, until he ceased and held his face in the crook, hugging you tightly. You ran your fingers through his hair, unsure what else you could do. Your chest felt sad and heavy, his mood affecting you immediately. But you needed to be strong. You kissed at whatever part of his face you could reach, your turn to make him feel good. Make him feel loved. 

Somehow your lips met again, tongues slipping together, going from slow to fast. His anguish over what was unknown to you, turned into an urge to forget. An urge to bury himself so deep inside you, he’d forget the outside world. If not just for tonight. You would gladly give him that. Give yourself that. 

Your hands ran along the tops of his arms, squeezing the muscles as you went, moaning softly when his tongue slipped into your ear, the coolness sending a shiver up your spine. You quickly found the buttons of his shirt, undoing them in equal haste, revealing the expanse of his chest. His hands tugged at the tie of your gown, getting it to fall open and reveal your chest. He cupped your breasts softly, like you would break if he tried any harder and slowly got you onto your back. Your gown slipped open fully, rendering you bare to his eyes, and he let out a sweet sound of awe. He loved your body. Always had. Always would. 

You tugged where his shirt tucked into his slacks, and he ripped it from his body, desperate to get as naked as you. It wasn’t long before he was, lying atop your body, staring into your eyes as he caressed your face. His heart was beating a little faster than usual, like it did when he was aroused, yet still not that of a human heart. It never would, but it had become oddly soothing these days. 

“Not too cold?” He asked, voice thick with something that had you reaching for him, holding him close. 

You smiled. “No. I like it.” 

He returned the action, rubbing your noses together affectionately. Your heart swelled in your chest. Fit to burst. You closed your eyes and let yourself sink when his mouth began travelling your body. Your chest rising and falling visibly as he found his way between your legs, making love with his mouth. 

In fact, out of the hundreds of times you’d had sex, tonight was the closest you’d ever gotten to such an act. It just felt different. More vulnerable than ever before. Sweeter. It filled your hole body, elevated you. Took you to places you’d never been before. 

He pushed inside you slowly, indulging in your velvet warmth, and when he began to thrust it was to a tantric rhythm. Your back arched, your toes curled and all that you felt was warmth. No matter how cold his flesh was, his glow engulfed your body. You wanted it to never stop. 

“Tell me you’ll always want me,” he rasped into your ear. Silver and black eyes burning into yours when he pulled back to view you. It was the most defenceless thing he’d ever requested of you. Exposed in the darkness, you shone, giving him the confidence to plead for such a thing. 

You held his face tight, voice a hushed whisper, but it didn’t make it any less true. You didn’t know what the future held, nor what would unfold. But you were sure of one thing. There would never be a time when you didn’t want him. You were his, and he was yours. 

“Always.” 

[hahanoiwont]

@bluerose2017 replied to this post: I feel that Frisk would get along so well with the more murder type sanses. Like Dust Sans from Dusttale, Nightmare, Killer, and Error. Frisk would understand their motives for being the bad guys.

Yes!!! oh boy, yes. ok ok let's go down a really self-indulgent path with this, alright? we're about to have good fun. which i will put under a cut bc it may get long. (EDIT: haha yeah it got long. multiverse shenanigans ahoy)

so let's say Frisk follows the path from Fall Into Grace. They go straight to Horrortale, and they stay there for a bit--sure, Ht!Sans starts out hostile, but the both of them slowly learn to trust each other. By inches, they try to come to understand each other. They both have in common that they were lurched from a deeply violent society into Regular Undertale (but spooky); they both clearly broadcast their trust issues, and therefore can work on them together. At the end of Horrortale, they're planning on sticking it out together on the Surface.

Then Frisk disappears. In Horrortale, their disappearance is while Sans is looking elsewhere--it's just like HT!Frisk's disappearance originally, except this time, they got everyone to the Surface first.

So now, Horror is having his triggers stomped on. Not a fan. He wonders at first if this is just what happens--maybe Frisk is meant to disappear, and HT!Frisk didn't mean to abandon the Underground to its fate. Maybe Frisk isn't a human at all, but some sort of apparition that appears periodically and vanishes just as quick. Maybe he's still starving and it's all a delusion his mind made for him as he's dying.

Or maybe Red crashes through, absolutely ready to shoot first and ask questions later. And suddenly Horror has his answers. Alternate universes. Obviously. Very stabby alternate universes.

Frisk, meanwhile, lands in Dusttale.

Dusttale, to my knowledge, is the AU where the human (whether it's Frisk, Chara, or the player is unclear to me) does genocide after genocide, resetting dozens or hundreds of times until not only does Sans remember, he also goes insane. Given the inevitability of all his friends dying, and how his low stats prevent him from fighting the human until they've killed enough people that his karma effect becomes useful, he decides he's going to kill everyone, gain the LV for it, and then kill the human as soon as they come around.

This is not a great situation for Frisk to be wandering into. Given that they're nearly identical (clothing aside) to their Dusttale counterpart, and Sans is insane anyway, they're not likely to see mercy in this world. Frisk walks in, sees that Sans is crazy, dies, walks in, sees that Sans is crazy, dies, walks in...

Eventually, a la WT!Swapfell, Frisk figures out the right ways to dodge as much as possible of the initial ambush; but they can survive for minutes at a time, if that. This Sans's stats are hopelessly inflated, and he doesn't play fair. It comes down to their DETERMINATION versus his, in a mirror of the same struggle that drove him crazy in the first place. This time, Sans is inevitably killing every monster, and Frisk is the one who can't save them. But, in a conflict of interests like this, Frisk is always going to win--they have an unfair advantage, straight out. They're simply more DETERMINED.

Eventually, Sans is stumbling bleakly through his genocide, disassociated to the point of hardly understanding what he's doing and why. He kills people because he kills people. He has a vague certainty that he's keeping them safe, but he doesn't understand how. He knows that he used to be different. He knows this is somehow Frisk's fault. But his ability to remember across RESETs is being buried under his inability to think straight under the massive trauma. He doesn't understand why he's killing his brother. He knows he doesn't want to. He knows that Frisk can probably tell him, but he also needs to kill Frisk very quickly, before they can gain EXP from...the piles of dust?...because there are no surviving monsters to kill.

He finally stops before killing Frisk and asks them why. Why are they making him do this over and over again? Why are they looking at him like that? Why is everyone dead? Why, when he's felt so numb for so long, does it still feel like it hurts?

Frisk has no idea why this Sans has killed everyone. Months have passed in increments of a day or less, as Sans swiftly and efficiently executes all of his neighbors. He's learned every place that people will go, and he shows up where the most people are congregated at a given point in time, leaving nothing but dust by the time Frisk gets through the Ruins. They've never gotten out in time to save a single monster. They're pretty sure Sans is possessed, or something, because this isn't something he would ever do (insert irony with Red's desire to kill literally everyone in Underfell).

When Sans doesn't kill them right out the gate, as it were, they begin to hope that whatever has been forcing him to do this has let go, or at least worn out enough that he's beginning to fight through it. They're not totally wrong--whatever is left of Sans is waking up, a little bit, as he leaves behind his scripted execution.

Frisk goes to Dust and tries to hold him, rocking back and forth like Red would do for them when they woke up out of a nightmare. He almost kills them for it, but what's the point? They'd just come back, and Dust would have to kill everyone one more time. He's tired. He lets them do what they want. It mostly makes him feel worse, but he doesn't stop them.

There's a strong parallel here to Going Big; Going Home. In that story, Red went into a deep depression spiral for months following his realization that he couldn't bring himself to kill every monster in existence even if it would save his brother; in this story, Dust has killed everyone already and no longer sees any point in much of anything, struggling to understand what has happened to him and why he did what he did. He wants to Fall Down quietly, but his newfound stats and his desire to survive until he's sure Frisk is dead won't let him. Also, Frisk is standing in his way.

Seeing as Dust is apparently going to be docile and passive for the time being, Frisk takes his hand and walks him through Snowdin.

They see a vision of a massacre.

Piles of dust, items lying around as if people just dropped dead in the middle of whatever they were doing. Doors are hanging open from where people went to greet their friendly neighborhood skeleton and ask what he was knocking for, only to die in seconds. The Underground was only somewhat prepared for a human to go through and get violent, and they weren't prepared at all for one of their own to kill them. Frisk sees every evidence of a very efficient, merciless slaughter. Dust is looking blankly at it all, like he can't quite put together what it means.

Frisk gets a strong feeling that they shouldn't visit their brothers' home.

Instead, they bring him to a cabin far removed from town, visible only from Glyde's ledge, and push him to sit in a wooden armchair. They pat his hand to tell him to stay there while they look through the cabin for dust. They don't find any. Dust could have told them they wouldn't, except that he's having trouble finding his voice right now. He waits where they put him until they give him the all clear.

He's supposed to watch the human. They're supposed to be doing something for him to watch them for. But the kid in front of him seems mostly interested in holding his hand and trying to smile for him. He sits in stasis, with his drive all run out but without anything else to turn to.

The first week is mostly silent. Frisk doesn't speak, and doesn't really communicate anything that Dust would need a response for. Dust chats with his hallucination of Papyrus sometimes, but since Frisk can't see him, the conversations end there.

On a given day, Frisk will set Dust up in the chair with a book that they've decided he'd like, sometimes with a blanket or a glass of milk to go with it, and they'll venture out to the Underground. Dust will shadow them from a distance as they investigate for survivors. There aren't any. They'll come home with some supplies and fill up the cupboards. Dust will already be there, right where they left him, with the book opened up to a random different page than before. If it's towards the end of the book, Frisk will decide that he liked it and try to find more books of that kind.

They'll go to the kitchen and try to put something together for dinner, and Dust will take all the cooking implements from them and actually make the thing they're trying at. He silently revokes their cooking privileges when they try to shatter a bottle of vinegar into a salad. Papyrus says he should have just eaten it. He also says that Dust is infecting Frisk with his horrible tastes in food, just like he's probably infecting them with the dust on his hands. How long until they're a killer like him? Dust tries to argue that they were the killer in the first place, but the words ironically die in his mouth. The truth is bitter, and he's not even sure what it is anymore.

After that, Frisk is allowed to taste test and get ingredients, and otherwise they're watching with their eyes and not their hands.

Once the food is eaten and cleaned up, Frisk will bring out something for the two of them to do together. Board games, card games, hangman, puzzles. Frisk always deals for two. Dust doesn't see a point in fighting them on it, which Frisk decides is a very hopeful sign. Sometimes he breaks the rules and just sort of moves one thing to another spot blindly, but he is moving!

Frisk usually wins these games on account of being the only one paying attention, but since they let him keep his illegal moves, he wins Sorry by sorta pushing his pawns into his safety zone on the fourth turn. After the game, Frisk always decides it's bedtime, gives Dust another book, and leads him to a bedroom, where they leave him to take it from there. Rinse and repeat the next morning.

The second week, Dust starts glancing at the titles of the books he's given, and maybe the summary if it seems interesting. He tells them not to bring him encyclopedias anymore. They bring him a dictionary instead. It takes him four minutes to decide whether killing them is an appropriate response.

(Verdict: no. It wouldn't make a difference, anyway.)

The third week, he walks with them on an outing. Frisk steers away from population centers and takes a back way through Waterfall to look at the lights. They sit there in silence--even Papyrus is quiet. The echo flowers have each had their messages replaced with a single, loud clap. Nobody says, "Why are you doing this? What--Sans, wait, wait--!"

The fourth week, Dust starts reading the books he's supposedly been reading all day during the night. It's weird to feel bored in the ashes of civilization. He tells Frisk short, single-sentence descriptions of the more interesting ones. They seem happy. Dust is pretty sure there's some sort of Stockholm syndrome going on here, but he's not sure which way it goes.

One universe over, Red and Horror are searching through a universe that seems like it's had some extradimensional interference, but it can't possibly be the one Frisk is in, because it's a dead Underground. As far as they can tell, there are no survivors. Still, they keep coming back to it--it's the only potential positive they've found. And even though the universe seems to be a dead end, things keep moving in it--a book vanished here, a cupboard rearranged there. It's like someone is very stealthily looting the place.

After seven weeks of quiet, routine days with quiet, routine ups and downs, Dust is taking charge of a few things. He tells Frisk what groceries to get, and decides what to make for meals. He's attempting his first joke in a long time when he dryly bans Monopoly forever, but somewhat to his surprise, Frisk listens. The Monopoly board doesn't come out again. He's not sure what to make of this--that the person who drove him crazy is the person who's trying to make him sane. Most of the time, he chooses to forget that there's anything but this. Two people exist in the world, and one of them is an unstoppable killer and the other is a patient, even-tempered pacifist. He can't even tell which one is which anymore. It's whatever.

Left to his own devices, Dust may have spent years or longer like that. The Underground may not have the resources to sustain all of its inhabitants without things like farmers or energy, but it's got plenty for two people. But Frisk writes a very short letter for him, saying, can we try again? Can you not kill Papyrus? I miss him and I want him to be alive.

Well, with an argument like that.

Dust doesn't really want to see a RESET. It feels like it isn't worth it, having everyone alive again just to watch them die. Even if Frisk doesn't kill them, who's to say Dust won't? Even if he doesn't kill them, who's to say that Frisk won't, either? Maybe the Underground will just cave in. Dust is sure he can't have that life again, surrounded by living people when even Frisk and his hallucinations seem like a crowd sometimes. He's pretty sure his LV stopped going down a few RESETs ago. He doesn't think he can be Sans again.

Eventually, he decides it doesn't really matter what he wants. Frisk will do whatever they want and there's nothing he can do to stop them.

After the RESET, Dust wakes up to his brother's voice, telling him it's time to start the day, and also his brother's ghost, already with him as always. He goes to the square just to see if he's gonna lose it and kill everyone, and now that he's looking, he notices the split-second flinches when people recognize him. Most of them don't even notice it in themselves, but they know he's something dangerous. He heads to the Ruins door and waits.

It's easier once Frisk comes out. No one in the Ruins is dead. Dust and Frisk both didn't kill them, this time around. If he sticks really close to Frisk, he can pretend everyone's apprehension is just for the human in their midst. After all, Frisk is just as much a killer as he is. It's not his fault his LV's stuck at 20.

Frisk has a tough time making friends. The people of the Underground seem to expect them to be some terrifying killer, and everyone seems to want to protect each other by killing Frisk. It doesn't help that Dust doesn't like people in his space much, and flashes his spooky-eye look at anyone who gets within about three feet of the two of them. They're not quite sure who he thinks he's protecting, but they trust him to have good reasons to do what he does.

The only time Dust leaves their side for any significant period is when they're with the real, alive Papyrus, who frets about his brother. Sans has gone missing, he explains, but no one will believe him because they've all seen him around. But he hasn't come home. People who don't come home are missing. So Sans is missing. He's certainly missing dinner, and Papyrus needs to get him to come home before he eats nothing but ketchup and grease for his meals. Frisk knows their own Papyrus well enough to see what he isn't saying--that Papyrus needs to get him to come home before anything bad can happen to him. That Sans disappearing when he seems so listless and blank can't be a good thing. That Papyrus is scared for his brother.

Dust can't stand to see his living brother. The idea puts him in a cold sweat. If Papyrus is living, then Papyrus can die. He prefers the phantom--cruel as he is, at least he'll never leave Dust alone. Dust can never hurt him and never kill him. Frisk can't even see him. As long as Dust is alive to see him, Papyrus's ghost is safe.

When Frisk breaks the Barrier, Dust disappears quickly afterwards. They find him standing alone a little farther down the cliffside, isolating himself; and they grab his hand again like they always do, to bring him back home. They're surprised when they fall out of the world--they almost forgot. They'd almost hoped it wouldn't happen.

Dust doesn't try to stop them. Just like always, he follows them through. He kind of hopes for oblivion, for an end to choices that he always makes into mistakes, but he's not so lucky. He wakes up to Frisk's frantic shaking in a patch of flowers far Underground. This is Underswap, and Dust is about to have a horrible day.

I think in this AU, I'm going to leave Killer's story--mostly because I don't know his backstory very well, just that he's Nightmare's right hand man and assorted other factoids. And since Nightmare isn't technically a Sans, just the embodiment of negative emotions, his universe wouldn't even be in the running for Frisk to land in--similarly, I am too charmed by Error's story to change it. So here's where I think this goes from here.

Nightmare arrives in Horrortale, intending to recruit Horror. The guy's life is miserable, there's no reason for him not to hop out of his universe to cause mayhem as long as it's better than starving. But the universe isn't the same anymore. Nightmare considers wrecking stuff in order to snack off of negative emotions, but Horror and Red are scanning the hell out of the universe, so Horror is able to pick up on a hole being punched in it and appear in a matter of minutes. He asks why Nightmare is here, and Nightmare says honestly that he was here to recruit him as part of a small team to complete certain missions, embodiment of negativity, eternal struggle in the multiverse between Nightmare and Dream, food and five-star lodging provided, etc. But it seems like he's got something going here, so...?

Nightmare is honestly fairly impressed that someone noticed him entering the universe so quickly, and he's hoping Horror may still be interested. It's too bad that Nightmare can't get Horror's lifelong trust and allegiance by rescuing him from a bad situation, but he's certain he can make it work. He only has one minion as of right now, that being Killer, and he'd like to have at least one more (if only so Killer will stop bothering him when he's trying to Plot Evilly. Also, Dream has two friends to Nightmare's one minion, and Nightmare can't be lagging behind, that's just unacceptable).

Horror may not need immediate rescue himself, but he sure knows someone who does. He asks a few careful questions about the multiverse--would i be able to visit other universes on my own? Yes. am i allowed to interfere with other universes? Encouraged, even. Especially where spreading misery is concerned. can i take someone out of a universe if they don't belong in it? What an oddly specific question. Nightmare is beginning to think he'll have a way to endear himself to Horror, after all.

Horror dismisses his questions as mostly being about the job he'll be doing--after all, if he's fighting people who travel between universes, of course he'd want to know if there are ways to track people across universes, or to tell if there's someone in a universe that doesn't belong there. Nightmare lets it pass without comment for the time being, but decides to keep an eye on the situation, to try to figure out what exactly Horror is looking for. If he's willing to leave his whole life behind and set himself up for a lifetime of fighting just for a chance to find it, then Nightmare has an easy way to earn his eternal loyalty. Muahaha.

Now of course, this is all for Evil reasons and not because Nightmare isn't sure how to make people like him if he doesn't provide some service or do some great favor for them. He certainly hasn't seen people love his brother for the happiness he provides, and said "I could do that >:( I could do Good Things for people and then they would Like Me and not hate me >:( and in fact I would do it while being Very Evil so I know they'll like me for me and not just because I'm, for example, a paragon of light and hope in the multiverse >>:( and then I would have better friends than Dream. and he will be super jealous. because i will have friends who like me. so there >>>:( this is what WINNING looks like, brother >:("

Now this would leave Red in the awkward position of being in the wrong universe and also missing in his own universe. I am not sure what I want to do with him here--he could come with Horror, and just sorta hang out as a Bad Sans. I know he's not normally one, but he comes from Edgy Universe so I could see it? But also, I know canonically Error steals from Red's chocolate supply, so I think it would be kind of hilarious if Error's been pissed bc his stock isn't being replenished, being as Red isn't around to buy more. And Nightmare could just. dump Red back in Underfell. Both as a favor to Error, to try to secure his loyalties at least a little, and as a show of how Powerful and Evil he is for his brand new recruit. Both options are tempting...I am undecided. But uh, something happens with Red. He is somewhere. Horror probably wouldn't just ditch him in Horrortale on his lonesome.

Now, Horror and Killer get along alright. Killer's got the sarcastic fast-talker charm, and Horror is getting used to being able to hold conversations at a normal speed again. And both of them get along with Nightmare. Killer is witty and challenging, and Horror is loyal and hardworking and (VERY important) knows how to cook great meals. No more mediocre fried rice. Scrambled eggs are no longer mysteriously watery. It is shocking how much home life improves with good food, and Horror is a big fan of having a seemingly endless pantry. His stipulation that a portion of everything gets sent home to Papyrus is a pain at first, but it's not so bad once it gets ingrained as a normal part of mealtimes. Sometimes his Papyrus visits, and that goes about as well as meeting family members of a dear friend for the first time can go. A bit awkward, but it settles into something positive.

The only weird thing is, with every new universe, Horror insists on making sure there's no one there who isn't native to that universe before havoc can begin. It's not a huge pain or anything, and it is a good move strategically, but it's a very specific request. Once it happens enough for Killer to get curious, it isn't long until the cat's out of the bag--a story of a sibling accidentally cast aside, a world that was cruel and unfair to them, a misunderstanding that made their brother think they were horrible and abandoned him to an awful fate when actually they'd done nothing wrong, and an endless journey that never seems to point home. And Horror was willing to put aside everything to try to bring them back--if not home, then at least to somewhere safe. To build new common ground together, after the old grounds went up in flames. To understand their side of it and see that they weren't wrong even if things looked kinda bad on their end, actually everything they did was completely justified, Dream--

Suffice to say that Nightmare is sympathetic. That is, he can see the strategic advantage to helping Horror find this sibling of his, and reunite them. Because then he'll have an endlessly loyal minion, and probably also an endlessly loyal minion-in-training. Obviously. He doesn't even believe in brotherly love, so obviously it's not out of some imagined desire to see his friend family underling scrape a happy ending out of what seems like an unrecoverable falling-out (complete with literal falling, in this case) with his sibling. It's just a matter of spending a tiny amount of effort searching for a months-old trace of a magical trail that's interrupted by not existing in some parts on account of time travel.

Killer iirc can't feel much of anything but hate, but he doesn't hate Horror, and it's not like he's forgotten what emotions are entirely. He does want the guy to be happy. They're kinda buds and Horror watches obscure competition shows at 3am with him when they both can't sleep. It'd be a little awkward to have a Frisk around, but at least it's not Chara. Most people he meets on a day-to-day basis are technically versions of him, anyway, and it's not like he can't differentiate them. He'd put up with it for Horror's sake. He'll only stab them if they're possessed, probably.

Thing is, when they do find Frisk (eventually Nightmare thinks to call in a favor from Error), Frisk is traveling universe to universe with some apathetic LV 20 Sans who is still trying to figure out when murder is and isn't the way he wants to solve his problems. Namely with other Sanses, since he has enough self-hatred that he can't imagine it's much of a loss. Thing is, he fcking hates it when Frisk time-travels, and it makes Frisk miserable, too, so he can't just murder every Sans who annoys him even slightly...but most Sanses don't take kindly to some LV 20 stranger wandering through...which means everything would just be easier if they were to go missing...not like more dust on his hands is gonna make a difference, right?

But no, Frisk always insists on going back to when the local Sans was alive, and it's just a waste of time and energy. So Dust mostly doesn't kill anyone who isn't a real jerk first. Mostly.

This is the scene that Nightmare & Co come upon when they finally catch up. They have to take a moment to regroup, because who even is this guy? He never leaves Frisk's side for long (local Sanses have a tendency to ambush and kill him for being a violent lunatic if they can get him alone, and then at least one party dies, and then time travel, etc.), he talks to thin air, he's generally Kinda Creepy.

Their initial thought is to try to get Frisk alone, but Dust in this time has noticed that they're being followed by a group of very suspicious characters, and tells Frisk to go on ahead while he lurks. It comes to a pretty devastating battle, between Dust's combat prowess and the gang's equally impressive abilities (Killer having done his own geno run, Nightmare having an impressive body count and also massive raw power on account of being kind of a demigod, and Horror himself being no slouch in combat). Frisk sits over in the next room like they're in the waiting room for a dentist's office, poking at echo flowers and waiting for their brother to be done with Mysterious Errands while ignoring three separate variations of Megalovania in the background.

Then Frisk figures, wait, there are a maximum of two Sanses...but three Megalovanias...that ain't right. Also, Dust said he wasn't gonna kill the local Sans this time. He didn't promise, but he said he would try, so he really shouldn't be sneaking off to pick fights. This is the conclusion Frisk comes to about six seconds before the wall is destroyed by stray blaster fire.

What they see through the wall is Dust, teleporting right out of combat to make sure they didn't get hurt or vaporized, and out of the rubble they can make out a goopy octopus Sans, a Target Sans (which makes other Sanses...walmart brand? food for thought), and a Sans that takes a second to place, because they really weren't expecting to see Horror here. And fighting Dust. Frisk is disappointed in him.

When the dust (magical and otherwise) settles, everyone ends up having a civilized conversation by the combined forces of Frisk and Nightmare. Killer and Dust were having fun, but not much was getting accomplished with massive property damage. It comes out that Nightmare's crew was coming by to get Frisk and rescue them from their endless tumble through the multiverse (which Error claims is giving him a headache anyway), and Frisk is very happy to agree to that part, and also to go live in a cool castle "for the time being." Allegedly, they will find somewhere else to stay soon, because Nightmare is not running a daycare for wayward interdimensional youth.

Frisk's condition is that Dust has to come with them, since he's been hopping through dimensions following them for so long now that they don't know what they'd do without him. Literally, every time the Barrier comes down, he waits for the hole in the world to open, takes a couple warm-up steps, and dives through after Frisk--he hasn't found a universe he could stand to stay in, yet. He hates the idea of living among people he remembers killing over and over again. At least if he follows Frisk around, he's with someone who seems to care about him for mystery reasons, and he might some day find an AU he'd be okay with. Maybe whichever one they settle with, if they find a way to stop falling. Which, it seems like they've got an opportunity here.

Nightmare is a-okay with gathering another unhinged duckling to take under his wing and occasionally let loose on unsuspecting universes (it's enrichment!!). He's seen that Dust is a great fighter, not too broken up about collateral, and having him around will make Frisk happy and therefore Horror will also be happy, therefore eternal loyalty, profit, etc.

(It has been a long time since Nightmare has been able to make someone he loves happy. It's been even longer since it's been so easy--what's one more mouth to feed? What's one more person who thinks Nightmare is capable of good without changing who he is?)

So Dust and Frisk end up moving in and Dust takes his place with the Bad Sanses.

Now there are a million things that could happen from here--well-meaning intervention from someone who discovers these psychopaths have kidnapped an innocent person for Clearly Nefarious Reasons, an intro scene between Frisk and Error (Error mentions that he's stolen their SOUL in uncountable universes and Frisk has no notable reaction to this, which really sucks the fun out of it for Error, so they end up watching trash TV together until Horror comes in to get Frisk for supper), Red's reunion with Frisk is gonna be great in any WT spinoff and especially in this, and general family sitcom shenanigans would be fantastic (can. can Dream babysit Frisk while everyone else is out. Nightmare absolutely forbids it bc Dream is a bad influence he doesn't like his people meeting Dream bc what if they like Dream more than they like Nightmare but what if it happens anyway. Ink wanders through while Error is babysitting and decides to Help, leading to an awkward day out with the Star Sanses, most of whom do not know Frisk at all. Ink forgets exactly who he's babysitting for and assumes they'll just come by and pick Frisk up eventually, which does happen, but there are a lot more accusations of kidnapping going around than is really necessary. Frisk and Blue are happy to see each other again at least).

Anyway this is,, a fantastic idea. rife with opportunity. I love it so much thank you for proposing it. wow,,