#i think this is one of the few instances we see the size of a gummi ship in relation to the characters

[gummi-ships]

Kingdom Hearts 2 - Gummi Garage

[izurou]

STOP TELEPHONING ME FT. BLUE LOCK MEN

features: shidou ryusei, michael kaiser, mikage reo, itoshi sae, bachira meguru, and when someone calls you during sex.

contains: female reader. pro! blue lock charas. penetrative sex. oral sex. fingering. semi public for reo and bachira. a creampie from sae. brief filming in shidou’s. she and her pronouns used. you or him are on the phone in all of them so yeah !!

note: these are so long for hcs i am so sorry about that

SHIDOU RYUSEI

one of the sweetest things about ryusei, is that his camera roll is filled to the brim with you.

countless rows of what seems like every image of you ever—screenshots of your instagram stories, all those pictures you’ve sent with the message do i look ok attached, and of course—the dozens of photos he’s snapped of you himself.

sweet indeed—although, he’s still him, and so this habit of his isn’t all innocent admiration and good intentions. he has zero hesitation when it comes to filming you during sex—it’s a nasty side effect of his little obsession and, even nastier, he prefers leaving that type of media on your phone; sweet videos of him with his cock stuffed inside you.

so when he’s doing just that—using your device to record himself fucking you from behind, and the words can i help you suddenly leave his mouth—your heart nearly stops. did he really just? with a reluctant glance over your shoulder, you find him holding your phone up to his ear, grinning. he did.

“ryusei! what the fuck? who’s—” you attempt to scold him through an aggressive whisper, but get cut off by your own gasp when he pushes down on the side of your head—forcing your cheek flat against the mattress. he rolls his hips forwards with a breathy laugh, and you can’t help but melt into the cotton sheets and moan when he does so—being effortlessly tamed by the thickness of his cock.

“oh? you sure you wanna talk to her? she’s a little busy right now,” he sneers into the receiver, grin tripling in both size and arrogance when he looks down and sees your face—scrunched up in pure ecstasy as you fist the fabric on either side of your head. yeah, busy being all fucking his.

nevertheless, he thinks it’d be rude of him to not transfer the call over—this person went through the effort of dialling your number, after all.

so he tucks your phone between his shoulder and his ear, and uses both hands to pull you upright—flush against his chest. with his left hand latching onto your throat, and his right now holding your phone a couple inches from your ear, he purrs, “it’s for you, babydoll. wanna say hi?”

there’s a beat of silence, and then you hear it, a voice seething with anger—one that belongs to none other than your ex boyfriend. shit.

you’re holding your breath now—hoping that if you can remain silent, he’ll give up on his attempt to reach you altogether. a decent plan—but not for someone who’s currently dating the world’s biggest instigator. “c’monnnn, at least tell him how good your boyfriend’s fuckin’ you.”

he hums in content as his left hand travels south—between your tits and eventually, onto your clit. he uses his middle finger to rub tight circles, and with his cock still pressing kisses to your sensitive spots, with his tongue dancing across your neck—a whine slips out from between your lips.

and your ex hangs up—spewing a few unsavoury comments about your boyfriend before doing so.

“awwww, we were just getting to the best part,” ryusei whines, but he doesn’t stay down for long. “get ready to cum for me baby, and don’t fuckin’ hold back. we’re gonna leave him a voicemail.”

MICHAEL KAISER

when it comes to you, michael is both equal parts selfish and selfless.

he’s great at sharing. everything from his clothing to his habits—routines he’s stuck with for years, changed, because he wants his luxe life to be something you can experience with him.

like tonight, for instance—where a past version of himself would have returned home from practice, and immediately gotten into a hot bath to loosen his sore muscles. present him is in fact relaxing in a hot bath after a rather shit practice, but present him also has a pretty girl to help him wind down.

and while your boyfriend has no problem sharing with you, hell would freeze over before he’d share you. you’re his, and though he seldom allows his possessive behaviour to control him—it seems to linger on his shoulders nonetheless, particularly after a bad day.

you’re doing your best to lift his spirits—bouncing on his cock, pressing needy kisses along his inked neck—when your phone starts buzzing against the tiled ledge surrounding the tub. he knows you’ve been expecting an important call, but he doesn’t want you to stop—he’s not going to let you stop. even so, he’d be a pretty bad boyfriend if he ignored the call altogether, so he’ll answer it himself—seeing as you’re preoccupied.

“hello?” his voice is smooth, nonchalant—a little too much so. you still your movements, watching expectantly as michael’s gaze shift to yours. he smiles before continuing, as if he’s softening the impending blow. “an interview? sure, let me pass you to her.”

his eyes darken ever so slightly as he holds your phone out, mouthing the words take it.

you obey your boyfriend’s command with a little too much confidence—bringing the device up to your ear and barely managing a hello of your own before michael has you cupping a hand over your mouth with a sharp thrust of his hips. he doesn’t stop there either—grabbing onto your waist tight, more or less holding you still as he begins fucking into you at a steady pace.

“uh, i-i’m,” your mind goes blank as the voice of your potential employer rings in your ears with a simple question—what does your availability look like? michael is eavesdropping of course, sucking feverishly at the delicate skin on your neck as he strains to hear the conversation.

“monday through friday my love, isn’t that right?” he purrs into your opposite ear—handing you the answer on a silver platter. he wants you to get at least one response out before he inevitably, but indirectly ends the call. maybe it’s his sour mood tainting his train of thought, but the future where you have a job—is one where you have less time for him, less time for this. he doesn’t want that. “because you’re all mine on the weekends, aren’t you? such a precious girl, letting me fuck you like this. i don’t know what i’d do without you, baby.”

the words drip from his mouth like honey, sweet and genuine. it’s times like these that prove how scary love is, because in the heat of the moment—you’re convinced that you don’t really want this job, that all you want is to be his.

the water sloshes against the walls of the bathtub as you crumble onto his shoulder with a whine—phone silent and blank as it sits uselessly in your hand. michael runs his palms up and down your back in an attempt to soothe the upset he just assisted in—cock jumping when you sit up and pout at him.

“you’ll definitely get the next one, my love. in the meantime, this can be your full time job,” he grins—smug, but not insincere in the slightest. “you’re already a perfect fit.”

MIKAGE REO

reo, prim and proper at first glance—the perfect textbook gentleman, is anything but.

he has the courteous mannerisms down to a tee, all charming smiles and soft touches as he opens the door to his luxurious car—holding out a hand to help you inside. once you’re seated, he’ll do an adorable little jog over to the driver’s side because—keeping a pretty girl waiting just isn’t right.

his chivalry ends there though, because a parking lot is the perfect place for you to suck him off, he thinks.

and oh, how absolutely perfect you are—leaned over the centre console with your tongue swirling around his tip. he can’t help but pant a little as he lets his head fall back against the seat.

but his euphoria is short lived, because the sound of your ringtone fills his vehicle almost as quickly as it kills the mood—bluetoothed and displaying a name on the dashboard’s touch screen. seishiro. reo figures he’s only calling you to ask about him, but it’s awfully late, and while he has no reason to distrust his best friend—he finds himself curious, wanting to eavesdrop on the conversation.

so, he taps his finger on the little green button.

“ynnn,” nagi’s voice emanates from the speakers—syllables drawn out and on the whinier side. you peer up at reo, and he’s looking down at you, eyes heavy with anticipation as he waits for a follow up. “are you with reo?”

your boyfriend visibly relaxes upon hearing that—and with his curiosity fed, he reaches forward to hang up, but—you swat his hand away.

“no, why? what’s up?” you hold eye contact with reo as you speak—ghosting your lips over his tip before licking up his shaft and taking him back into your mouth. you’re hoping that nagi will start to ramble, because if he does—reo will have to stay quiet, or at least attempt to.

and nagi happens to want an unreleased game, one that reo could pull a few strings and get his hands on if he wanted to—all things the voice on the other end is in the midst of explaining. he’s mere background noise though, because your attention is solely on reo and his cock.

you hold him near the base, using your hand to pump whatever your mouth can’t accommodate. reo shifts in his seat—biting down on the knuckle of his index finger as he goes one on one against the urge to buck up into your face, because that’d really conjure up a sinful sound.

and reo worries he might draw blood when you hum against him—sending vibrations throughout the length of his cock, and oh fuck, he’s so close. his brows knit together as he taps frantically on the screen—ending the call. he cums seconds later, head thrown back in pleasure as he groans and gasps through his orgasm.

“c’mere,” he breathes heavily—cupping your face in his hands and crashing his lips onto yours for a messy kiss. “you wanna sit on it, sweetheart? we can head to the backseat.”

ITOSHI SAE

it might not seem like it, but there’s nowhere sae would rather be on his day off than here.

sitting on a small padded bench inside the private fitting room of a store, with you straddling his lap in a little floral mini dress. he figures that if he’s going to blow this much money on so little fabric, he might as well trial the garment’s true purpose—sex whenever and wherever he wants.

and now, as he watches you grind down onto the growing bulge in his pants—dress bunched up at your waist with one of the straps slipping off your shoulder, he can definitely see himself getting his money’s worth.

he’s just getting into it—running his hands over your ass and hips, tangling his fingers around the lace of your panties—when your phone starts to ring. at first, neither of you even acknowledge the sound, but it persists with a second call, and out of his peripherals—sae sees his manager’s name sitting the top of the screen. great, so much for your alone time.

“hello?” your voice is soft, and yet it still manages to catch your boyfriend off guard. during his brief sulk, you’ve not only answered the call, but put it on speaker as well. “is everything alright?”

the words i need to talk to sae come through, and you feel the breeze from his eye roll. you run your fingers through the hair at the back of sae’s head, pulling him a little closer as you continue to move your hips. he nuzzles into your neck soon after—eyes heavy as he watches your movements in the floor to ceiling mirror directly across from him.

“sorry, no can do. you know he needs the break,” you hum into the receiver, and you swear sae’s grip on you tightens. he loves it when you defend him like this—he thinks it’s hot.

so hot—he just can’t keep it in his pants anymore. he’s unbuttoning and unzipping—pushing fabric out of the way until his cock is springing free, and finally, he’s sinking into your cunt.

a breathy fuck falls from his lips as he leans his head back against the wall—staring up at you like you’re some kind of deity, which—in this dress, just might be true. his nails carve into your hips as he drags you along his shaft, and oh—it’s so easy for him to get carried away when you’re hugging him so tight.

“he’ll call you first—first thing in the morning.” you fumble over your words a little when the head of sae’s cock presses against a sensitive spot, but you get the response you wanted nonetheless—a that’s good thank you, and the call ends there.

a reward worthy performance, he thinks.

“oh god, sae,” you whine—and he buries his face back into the crook of your neck, recognizing the familiar knot unraveling just below his waist. his teeth sink into your shoulder, and he cums hard, breathing heavy against your skin as he watches the mirror’s reflection through hooded lids—staring intently as white starts to leak out of you, and down the side of his cock.

“careful, you’re gonna ruin the dress,” he mutters—knowing full well that the sticky mess is all him. “guess i have to buy it now, huh?”

BACHIRA MEGURU

meguru’s fatal flaw is his attention span, or rather—his lack thereof.

the dinner reservation was at seven—a table for four. you, him, and two representatives from a sports brand that’s interested in sponsoring him.

it’s a few minutes past the hour, and the other duo is evidently running a little late—no big deal, but your boyfriend thinks otherwise. he’s sitting with his chin in his palm, twirling a straw around his fingers, and crumbling under the weight of his boredom. unfortunately, you don’t think this is an establishment that’d have a colouring page and some crayons for him, but not to worry—he’s just found something else to entertain himself.

“meguru, behave,” you shoot him a glance as he scoots closer—hearing him mutter a yes ma’am, but still feeling his hand beneath your skirt a few seconds later. he brushes his middle finger over the thin fabric of your panties—gently rubbing over your clit before he begins tracing what you think are hearts onto your cunt.

your gaze floods with desire—a look that meguru knows well, and loves dearly. he’s getting excited now, tail wagging with delight, because he knows that you’ll let him continue—so long as he doesn’t make it obvious to anyone in the room.

this means that, when one of the representatives suddenly starts calling you, he technically doesn’t have to behave.

“hello?” you bring your phone up to your ear, and at the same time—meguru’s hand slips past the waistband of your panties. he sighs in content—slouching back in his seat and lolling his head to the side. you’d almost think he was the one being touched. “w-what? you can’t find it?”

ah, so you’re saying they’re lost—which loosely translates to you have more time to play. good.

using his index and ring finger to spread you open—he sinks his middle into your warm cunt, curling it upwards and moving his hand side to side a bit. meanwhile, the voice on the other line is begging for directions, and you’re struggling to give them.

you lean into meguru’s side and hold his wrist—not to stop his movements, but to limit them, at least until you manage to get off the phone. but your boyfriend—sweet as pie and smart when it’s convenient for him, presses a kiss to your temple, and decides that he’ll take care of it for you.

“look for the big arena tour billboard, we’re right below that. see you soon,” he leans in and hums happily into your phone, and the rep thanks him before hanging up. with time now running out, he brings all three of his fingers up to your clit, where he rubs tight circles. “mmm, i don’t wanna stop, baby. wanna make you cum.”

“megs, that’s them!” you squeak—spotting two well dressed, important looking people scurrying past a window on the opposite side of the room. you claw at meguru’s wrist—but his fingers stay glued to your clit for as long as possible, and he ends up pulling away mere seconds before they round the corner.

he’s all innocent smiles and waves as the two approach the table—not so subtly licking up the side of his middle finger, which—wouldn’t be so awful if there were more than just drinks on your table. either way, it’s swept under the rug, and the four of you begin introducing yourselves while looking over the menu.

and your phone is on silent at this point, but it lights up with one new message from meguru.

bathroom in 5? <3 i know what i wanna eat ;)

[aibafiles]

Esperanto in Metaphor: ReFantazio

Not long ago I saw this this tweet pointing out that the in-game language in Metaphor is Esperanto (written in another script) and I decided to investigate for myself! The vocal tracks are in Esperanto as well, but I want to focus on the text here since I don't have a great ear for it. (The quoted tweet also points out that you can rearrange the title to get an Esperanto phrase - I think it would be more accurately spelled "Metafore Fantazio," or "metaphorically fantasy"!)

For the unfamiliar, Esperanto is the world's most widely spoken constructed language, developed in the late 19th century with the aim of being an easy to learn secondary language that could act as a bridge between speakers of other languages. While its vocabulary and grammar are largely derived from various European language families, it has speakers worldwide, including a sizeable number in Japan. Given the relationship between Metaphor's world and our own, I think it's a cool choice to take a constructed secondary language and make it the in-universe primary language—not to mention the game's themes of uniting different people with a language intended to do just that.

I studied Esperanto myself for some time 9 years ago, though I've forgotten most of it, so I'm very rusty. That said, I was able to sit down and parse one particular block of text that the game provides a translation for, and use that to read the rest! I'm slowly combing through the demo and translating any legible text, and I wanted to share some of the interesting details I found. If any Esperantists see this and want to weigh in, please do! There's plenty I may not remember or be aware of.

Continued under the cut, including content from the demo:

Let's start with the text the game translates for us! Here's what the VO/subtitles say:

O Great Seeker, bearer of fantasy empowered... Hear my wish, and come forth from thy epoch of glory to grant me thy guidance.

Here's the "deciphered" Esperanto:

Ho, granda serĉanto, kiu vivas en epoko de gloro, kiu enkarnigas la povon de fantazio. Bonvolu disdoni al li vian gvidadon.

And here's a more "direct" translation:

O Great Seeker, who lives in an epoch of glory, who embodies the power of fantasy. Please grant him thy guidance.

Not too much different of note here other than the pronoun usage—in Esperanto, the speaker explicitly uses "he," likely referring to the protagonist. I suspect that the English is actually translated from the Japanese line, which is ambiguous, so they made an educated guess here. But, since this is the same speaker who narrates awakening cutscenes and new bonds, it makes sense that they're calling to the Seeker on his behalf!

This is a point I'm unsure about, but from my understanding, "granda" (here translated as "great") typically refers to size, so it seems like an odd word choice to me—but it's possible there are connotations I'm not aware of.

After some poking around I stumbled across some text on the background of the name entry screen that reads "signaro" (character set), followed by the whole Latin alphabet on the next line.

"But Batts!" you may say. "Esperanto doesn't use QWXY! What about the diacritics!"

Well. There aren't any! There are 6 characters with diacritic marks used in Esperanto (ĉ, ĝ, ĥ, ĵ, ŝ, and ŭ), and since our character set doesn't use any of them, we have to make some educated guesses about which one it is at any given time. This is mostly a non-issue since they're real, existing words, but it does make it a bit trickier at points, and relates to another problem I'll get to in a bit. (There are a select few instances where I've seen diacritic marks on handwritten text or shop names, but there are still far fewer than there should be.)

That said, there is also some plain English text using this script as well, so the game does make use of those extra letters, such as the Memorandum UI - scrolling books have titles like "Marine," "Royal Capital," "100 Mystery of Ningen (humans)," and "Melancholia Gen" (?), plus cute notes in the background like "I want to read slowly" and "already read very good."

Anyway, this diacritic ambiguity bugged me for a bit when I started translating some text with "Euchronia" in it, like the above "Regno de Eŭcronio - Dezerto de Tradia." The Esperanto "C" and "Ĉ" are always pronounced "ts" and "ch" respectively, so the pronunciation here is a bit awkward either way, as both characters are meant to precede a vowel. A more natural pronunciation in line with both the Japanese and English would be "Eŭkronio," a spelling I found once in the body of the contract our protagonist signs to join the army, and never again. Alas.

I noticed a few interesting details while translating place names - the "Trad" in "Grand Trad" (Granda Tradicio) means "tradition" - and many locations are labeled on the map that I don't think are mentioned in the demo's runtime - Oceana to the west is named, but also of note are Kalendulo ("marigold," maybe "Calendula" in English) to the east, the Hulkenmont mountains surrounding that region, and the "Malnova Insularo" (old archipelago) to the south.

(Screenshot grabbed from justonegamr on Youtube.)

Lots of fun stuff going on with these posters - the big propaganda poster says "Mi volas vin por homoj" - "I want you for humans!" The poster immediately to its right and the one with the light-haired paripus are both wanted posters with rewards of 50,000 and 7,000 respectively, and the former has a somewhat legible name - Mikelan something (?). There's also quite a bit of illegible text that I'll need to boot up the game to stare at, textures willing.

Here is where I noticed an occasional problem with the text in this game: some of these posters include words that should have diacritic marks, but instead the characters are gone entirely or replaced with a space. For instance, the poster with the face that appears twice on the bottom row reads "Ser a peto - i tiu viro" where it should say "Serĉa peto - ĉi tiu viro" (Search request - this man). I spent so long wondering what "Dan ero" meant on the poster with the red "no" sign before I realized it was meant to be "Danĝero" (Danger).

This extends to some other parts of the game, such as the world map title ("Unuiĝinta Reĝlando de Eŭcronio" written as "unui inta re lando de e cronio," which is how I knew it was a plain C oops), and the giant statue in More's study covered in archetype names, some of which are missing characters.

I suspect that at some point in the process, these characters couldn't be properly encoded and got lost before making it into the game. Most of the UI text seems to be intact, and this only affects graphic text as far as I've seen. Luckily, we can usually use context to guess at what they should be.

There's a ton more that I'm still hunting down and translating, so if you'd like to see it, you can check out my spreadsheet here! I'm hoping to keep updating it as I play through the full game, and I may make some more posts if I encounter any particularly interesting details. A few more tidbits before I go:

This appears to be an annual calendar - number 1 is at the top and it circles around to 12, and then the inner circle runs from 1-30, likely representing the weeks.

Various graffiti found around Sunshade Row that reads:

Ĉi tio estis infero (this was hell)

Malbela elda (nasty/ugly elda)

Merdo (shit)

And in the words of our favorite tooth...

Elbe venontfoje! (Maybe next time!)

[kupidachillea]

Could we have more Olympians x Reader? Maybe some slight nsfw and perhaps some time with Apollo?

Olympians x You (Hcs or imagines )

Author note: I usually do SFW but that doesn’t mean I don’t occasionally do NSFW if it’s light or not full on smut. I don’t think I’m brave enough for that and if I did I’d make a separate blog for it😭🙏 but I hope you enjoy

TW (trigger warning):This may have a few Yandere themes in it. And while the Olympians themselves aren’t really yanderes- they do share similar tendencies considering their myths. Please note that this isn’t completely accurate to their mythology- but it’s just a bit of fun so please take no offence and be nice in the comments.

CW (content warning)⚠️: readers either18+ (to read this I mean). This work contains NSFW themes, mentions of nudity, molesting and sexual harassment and assault, non-con, dubcon, toxic behaviour. General (hinted) Yandere behaviour, feeding of bodily fluids (blood[?])Reader’s discretion is advised.

⚠️ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT PLEASE ⚠️

🏺- You had been growing use to it..if that was the right term. Perhaps not ‘use to’ it but more along the lines of growing more accustomed to it. Being on Olympus wasn’t exactly all fun and games.

🪡- But of course you weren’t allowed to complain about it. You certainly weren’t allowed to complain when one of them would suddenly just pick you up and take you to their chambers. You already knew what that meant.

🏺- You’d find yourself pinned under one more more god, their hands caressing your body, their teeth leaving deep marks that you wouldn’t dream of calling ‘love bites’ there wasn’t nothing ‘loving’ about those bites. No matter how much they preach and repeat it.

🪡- Some days it would be one god after the other, other times you’d get a break. But there’s only some much a human can go through. One moment you’d be in the garden or somewhere with Hermes, his lips on your nether regions, sucking and licking at you while another moment you’d be bounced up and down on Ares while Aphrodite made out with you.

🏺- It made your head spin at times. Most times you were scared, who wouldn’t? It’s not like the men here had manhoods that looked anything like human..maybe an enough to look familiar in shape but still. Zeus was one such example, you actually remember begging him not to go through with it- afraid that the thing between his legs would split you in half but he would only laugh and hike your legs over his shoulders and whisper: “It’s okay little mortal.. we’ll do this as much times as we need for you to get accustomed to my size..”

🪡- Those words alone sent a shiver down your spine at the time. After that you weren’t able to walk properly for a few days. Not that the gods care, most of them found it funny. To see their little pet struggling to walk after such intense intimacy. “Poor thing, can’t even walk properly.” Poseidon would coo while watching you carefully ease yourself into the pool of water.

🏺- The sight alone made him excited and decided at that moment he wanted to help you ‘relax’…it wasn’t very relaxing to you. You would whimper as he sunk under the water and immediately attracted his lips to your hole.

🪡- Of course there were many instances like this but there were times where they did leave you alone and you did get time to yourself. Today was one of those days.

🏺- You were sat outside in the garden, fiddling with flowers and and grass blades. It was quiet for awhile and you actually had time to reflect on everything you’ve experienced. Sometimes it was good, other times it was bad..very bad and thought the Olympians tried to make you feel comfortable, you think that they don’t necessarily understand the word.

🪡- While you were thinking, you didn’t notice someone approaching you until a shadow of a man was cast over your body, blocking out the sun. You already knew it was one of the Olympians but you didn’t know which one until he spoke and that’s when you turned around.

🏺- “Ah, there you are, mortal..” Apollo spoke, a bright smile on his face as he crouched down next to you. “Relaxing in the garden I see..” He would mutter and you immediately got an off vibe..he wants something. As most of the gods did when they approached or summoned you, regardless you nodded to his statement as you fiddled with a petal of one of the asters that were growing in the garden.

🪡- Apollo smiled in response before speaking once more. “That’s good, that’s good..but perhaps you could relax with me? We could go to my chambers where no one would bother us…” The golden haired god spoke, his voice smooth as he held your chin between his larger fingers. You tried your best not to seem apprehensive at his request but you couldn’t exactly deny him..could you? You opened your mouth to try and voice your opinion but Apollo spoke before you.

🏺- “Please, my dear?” He pouted a bit, trying to make you agree and after a mental back and forth you reluctantly agreed. This made Apollo beam and he wasted no time in picking you up and dashing over to his quarters.

☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️

☀️- After Apollo got you situated and ‘comfortable’ in his room, he laid on the bed in the spot next to you.

🎵- You were quiet as you fiddled with your chiton and he tilted his head curiously. “Relax, my dear. It’s just us..” He spoke.. you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t the slightest bit charming. Apollo would shuffle closer to you and wrap his arms around your body. His fingers moving to caress your skin causing you to tense up a bit.

☀️- Apollo figured you’d still be apprehensive, but he thought he could get you to loosen up a bit. And so he continued to gently feel up your body, trying to coax you to relax a bit.

🎵- You were going to protest about the touching but Apollo quickly covered your lips with his own. He did this on purpose..wanting to silence your words that might ruin the moment. Your eyes widened and on instinct you tried to push him away, but he kept himself firmly against you. Kissing your lips and letting out a soft groan as his hand slipped under your chiton.

☀️- You obviously flinched, letting out a muffled squeak that caused the deity of light to chuckle. He could tell you were starting to slowly give in and kiss back, even if he could still feel the anxious beats of your heart. He decided to take things a step further.

🎵- Pinning you down to his bed and and moving his fingers to your hole. Teasingly rubbing his thumb over the opening as he moved his lips over to your neck, placing gently kisses as you whimpered. He then slowly fed you one of his fingers and bit his bottom lip at how your body tensed and gripped his index finger. He could never get tired of the way your body felt.

☀️- “There you go…that’s it…~” He would purr before adding another finger and scissoring your entrance then slowly pumping his fingers in and out. Curling them and stroking the spot inside you he knew would make you cry out. Your back arched a you whined, calling out his name as your hands immediately reached to grab for something..anything.

🎵- Apollo grinned and kissed your lips once more..adding a third fingers and moving them at a steady pace..not hard enough to hurt but not too slow either. All this was getting to him too but he wanted to focus on you mainly. For now at least…

☀️- He had you twitching and shivering from all the pleasure and the deity had drawn a few climaxes from you as well. You were panting and out of breath by the time he was done and he finally gave you a break..removing his fingers from your women out hole as he peppered your cheek with kisses.

🎵- “Mmm..such a pretty mortal..you did so well…you deserve a reward..” He would say before firmly pressing his lips against yours once more. At first you thought it was just a normal passionate kiss..but you suddenly felt a liquid like substance run down your tongue and down your throat.

☀️- Your eyes slightly widened as a slight burning feeling started to engulf your body. Your hands immediately reaching to try and push Apollo away, but he just groaned softly and caged your body between him and the bed. His tongue running over yours, sucking on the wet muscle and coating it with more of the golden liquid..

🎵- The more of this liquid he fed you the more your body started to feel like it was burning from the inside out. Your heart beating faster as the substance dribbled and leaked from the corner of your mouth. Tears burning in your eyes as you ingested every last drop he gave you.

☀️- Soon enough your heart stopped as you let out a muffled cry while Apollo gently rubbed your hips..pulling his lips away from yours and whispering that you’d be okay. He held you in his arms as you laid ‘dead’ for a minute or so before your heart started to beat once more; and Apollo smiled.

🎵- It was done..he had fed you his immortal blood..his ichor and now you’d never die. Or maybe you did..your old self..but that doesn’t matter now. What matters is that you’d never be able to escape them ever again..not even in death…they made sure of that.

Author note: Oof, sorry this took a long while. I’ll admit I wasn’t very focused and I procrastinated a bit. But on top of that I had things at home doing. Though I’m glad I finished it, usually if things take this long I like to post screenshots to show ppl I haven’t forgotten. I was just so slow to get this out. Sorry again but I hope this is to your liking, Anon! And to everyone else.

[juniperdugong]

How NOT to Summon a Demon

Pairing: demon!Sukuna x GN!reader (reader is in college) Genre: Fluff CW: Swearing WC: 872

Day 8 of To Halloween with Love Event

A/N: Hey at least my other two today were drabbles... ANYWAYS! Anyone up for domestic demon tutor Sukua AU tonight!! Hell yeah!

"I don't know how this happened..." You sat kneeling as you furiously scrambled to skim over pages and pages of text. Texts that you were sure you memorized to a tee but obviously... something went wrong somewhere along the way - Because instead of a silly little imp meant to help you with homework, you had a hulking man triple your size staring down at you.

"Yeah, well I'm here now and you've disturbed my peace." The man gruffs, grabbing at the book in your hand and examining it, "You screwed up."

"I know. Obviously, I know." You're scratching your head trying to think of something - anything - that would make this better. "What do I do? Send you back? How?"

"Nope. Can't be sent back till whatever you made a deal for is done..." Tossing the book aside the monster of a man took residence on your bed, making himself comfortable as you grew more and more uncomfortable with the situation; The bed squeaked and groaned with the sudden unknown weight.

"Oh- I wanted or- The deal I was trying to make was for help with my homework..." You sheepishly fold, now embarrassed as you hear the ridiculous words come out of your mouth - Who the hell tries to summon a demon to take care of something as simple as homework? And why the heck would a spell meant to do that summon this beast of a demon who obviously has more practice in killing than mathematics?

"Homework? Ha!" He picks himself up and grunts like an old man as he sits at the edge of the bed, "That's so stupid. You couldn't have made a deal to- I don't know. Become top of your class or graduate early of something?"

"I didn't have the foresight to make those types of deals..."

"Woah a dumbass like you can use big words like 'foresight'"

"Hey! That's mean." You snap back at him.

"I'm a literal demon... I don't know what you expected, babe." The use of a nickname throws you for a loop and your face gets warmer with the sudden casual talk between you two. You hear a deep chuckle come from the demon seeing your reaction.

He rubs his hands together and black dust begins to accumulate, with a simple snap a pair of glasses fit for himself apparates from nothing. "What are you doing then? Sit in your chair." He gestures towards your desk.

"What?" You do as he says out of fear but with confusion written all over your face.

"What do you mean 'what?', brat." He lurches forward and sits on the floor next to you, large enough that he sits at nearly the same height as you in your desk chair. "What are we doing first? Science, math, or English?"

---

The next few days become oddly comfortable with the presence of a demon. Thankfully, no one was able to see him other than you unless he wanted them to. Did this lead to many instances of him practically stalking you or appearing out of nowhere? Yes... but even these became common occurrences - Ones that you didn't really mind as long as you were getting your grades up.

It's only when the semester comes to a close and you and (who you learned to call) Sukuna are much more friendly than a person oughta be with a demon that you begin to wonder...

"Sukuna?"

"What, brat?" Sukuna mumbles, words slightly muffled as he nuzzles closer to your neck. You're both cuddled snuggly into each other. A light blanket draped over you because Sukuna's warmth was more than enough to keep the winter cold at bay.

"Why aren't you gone?" There's a pregnant pause as he takes in what you just said and you giggle as he suddenly manhandles you to face towards him - A furious look on his face (even more so than usual) that screws up into confusion.

"What? You want me gone?" He's stern and you can detect just a hint of sadness and distress coming from him as his thoughts race.

"No. I mean-" And you do your best to wrap your arms around him and bring him in close... Only able to pull yourself closer to his unmoving form in the process, "You said you'd be sent back once the deal is up. My grades are up and my school work is done, so I'm just wondering-"

Looking up you see the rarest of sights - a slight blush on Sukuna's face as you remember his words from so long ago. "Kuna?"

"What?-" He comes back to his senses, bringing you into a tight hug and smothering you with his chest so you wouldn't see the face of the demon go red from embarrassment. "You're so stupid that you probably wouldn't be able to live without me... so I decided to stay."

"Yof cam do dat?" (You can do that?) Your voice is completely muffled as he overpowers you.

"I can do whatever the hell I want. I'm a fucking demon, babe."

And you're not sure if you're comforted by his words but you're kinda glad that you got this guy instead of some whimpy imp.

A/N: And just like that I'm caught up lol. I'm obsessed with soft Sukuna, sorry not sorry. My JJk "drabbles" always end up being ficlets and I have no qualms about that.

Please Reblog and Comment (They act as power-ups for me)

JJK Taglist (OPEN): @iluvmattyb

[heartfullofleeches]

Day At The Pool

Yan Casino staff + G.N Reader blurb

-

They've been staring at you all day....

Four members of the hotel staff you have the sneaking suspicion have been following you since you checked in. An extravagant and luxurious hotel spanning roughly the size of a small town - yet you saw their faces at nearly every corner.

It was reasonable to see them from time to time. Your first instance of meeting the group was on your travel to the floor you'd be spending the duration of your stay when you had returned a pendant one of them had dropped after you found it by your door during the confusion. They thanked you profusely as the other members of their team peaked outside the rooms they'd be searching to see the cause of their crewmate's tears.

A few words and hugs of gratitude, plus a few dessert to show how deep their appreciation ran and you thought that would be the end of your tale. You saw them a couple times when you ordered room service - then again when you went out to explore the rest of the resort. One worked behind the register of a gift shop you visited while another escorted you to your seat after you discovered free tickets to a show added on with your purchase of the room. There was always one to cheer you on with whatever recreational actives you indulged in and one to refill your drink.

Even now, as your vacant days drew to a close and you spent one of your final afternoons by the pool your little entourage wasn't far from sight. Two had taken up lawn chairs beside you and politely, but firmly told other guests this area of the pool was closed. Another swam by in a pool float as the last continued to sneak you items in between their stops at other table. Eating one of the snacks they left as hunger lapses your judgement - you shrink into your chair as the two at your shuffle closer.

"Um.... Is there something I can help you with?"

Their eyes grow wide. One mutters in the other's ear, waving the remaining two offer. Joined by their doubles - the four look between themselves and you. They huddle together, whispering to each other and sneaking the occasional glance at you. Ever so often, you hear a soft giggle.

"Are you always that cute?..."

"Or is it just the lighting."

"Your skin looks so soft...."

"Can we touch it?..."

You pull your towel over your legs as the one from the pool reaches out. "... Do you guys do this with all your guests?"

"Course not!"

"You're different - you helped us."

"Nobody ever does that around here - we like you!"

"Wanna keep you safe...."

"Safe? Safe from what?"

The quietest of them gasps, multiple hands shooting over their mouth. The quartet drop their voices to a whisper once more hushed to complete silence as they look at you. Holding a finger to each of their lips, they beckon you closer as they signal to remain quiet.

"Shhhh - not supposed to tell."

"You don't belong here. No human does."

"Boss tries real hard to make this a place for everyone, but not everyone wants that. Demons, angels, others - some don't like mortals treading their territory."

"Cute thing like you would get gobbled right up, but we won't let that happen. You'll our little secret."

Despite the grime tale - the group laugh to themselves at their teammate's final words. Something about the usage of the phrase "ours" tickled their brains. You, on the other hand were having none of it and wrote it off as some fucked prank while recognizing the terror of what it could really be. Examining the identical maids - you notice one of them are wearing name tags.

"Can you at least tell me who you are?"

Pointing at their faces, the group shouts in unison - "Ace!"

"Wait- so you're saying you're all named Ace?"

"Yes!"

Your head throbs. "I.. think I need to go lay down."

"Would you like one of us to carry you?"

"I'll manage, thanks." You squeeze past the maids and towards the elevator. Thay was strange, but you'll be out of here soon as it's not your problem. As soon as you leave, the closest to you pulls out your phone. They all shake hands for a job well done, crowding around your phone.

"Great job, Ace!- That was close."

"You said it Ace. Luckily I was able to watch them unlock their phone a few times so we should have access."

"Oh! Maybe they have more pictures of themselves!"

"Focus. We need to make sure nobody knows where they are.... but it couldn't hurt to check.

The demon in possession of your phone unlocks it on the first try and with the others scours the device for any little detail they could find.

"So cute~ I wanna kiss their cheeks."

"Think Boss will let us keep them?"

"Course they will! We've been good lately, and given all the stuff we do already - we can take care of them better than whatever their old life was like."

"They'll be so happy with us.... Let's go make them a gift basket to welcome them home~ ♡"

[arminreindl]

A Week in Croc News: A ziphodont crocodilian from New Guinea and a "baby" Piscogavialis

Once again I'm here to recap exciting fossil croc news. To give a quick rundown of papers from the last week, we had one on non-semi aquatic adaptations in crocodylomorphs (mostly life on land but also notes of marine groups), a paper that I'm biased toward because it feaures two of my silhouettes in its phylogeny.

The two silhouettes of mine used in the study. Duerosuchus representing the Planocraniidae and Trilophosuchus representing Atoposaurids (eventhough it's not one, it was picked since it at least conveys the right proportions).

Thalattosuchians recieved a lot of attention this past week. For starters, in addition to being brought up in the afforementioned paper, they were given a lot more focus in a study comparing the function and phylogenetic importance of their shoulder girdles (and those of dyrosaurids), a metriorhynchoid skeleton of uncertain affinities from the Cretaceous northeast Italy was described and just today we got a study on the braincase anatomy of Thalattosuchus.

The one paper that excited me the most however was the description of ziphodont crocodilian teeth from the Pliocene Otibanda Formation of Papua New Guinea. To those unaware, ziphodont teeth are essentially teeth that are flattened like a blade and bear serrations along their cutting edge, something seen in dinosaurs, monitor lizards and a select few crocodile groups like sebecid notosuchians, planocraniids and some mekosuchines. Now these teeth are nothing new, they've been known since 1967, hell I even mentioned them on both the wikipedia pages for Mekosuchinae and Quinkana, but they were never properly described...until now.

Leave it to Jorgo Ristevski, Ralph Molnar and Adam Yates to tackle this one, describing not just the ziphodont teeth but also the postcranial material and conical teeth from the formation. Now don't expect any new species or genera. Though valuable, the study doesn't cause any major stirr ups. The ziphodont teeth are tentatively referred to the Mekosuchinae, though they are not morphologically distinguishable from other ziphodont groups like sebecids or the previously mentioned planocraniids, mekosuchines are the only ones that fit the time and location. The other fossils are even more ambiguous, the postcrania referred to Crocodylia incerta sedis and the conical teeth to cf. Crocodylus sp., so basically an unknown crocodilian and a modern croc. This at least suggests that two different crocodiles inhabited Papua New Guinea at the time, maybe even three assuming that the postcrania don't belong to either the ziphodont or conical form.

Since New Guinea and Australia were once connected, forming the continent of Sahul, some Quinkana-like mekosuchines could have easily traveled to the island.

The final thing I want to mention is not an actual study, but still newsworthy. Scientists in Peru just revealed whats thought to be the first juvenile Piscogavialis. An amazingly preserved skeleton was unveiled, preserving much of the skull minus the tip of the snout, most of the spinal collumn until the base of the tail, both hindlimbs and some other bones as well (from the photos theres a few ribs at least).

Whats fun is that though described as a juvenile, the animal is estimated to have already reached around 3 meters in length. To put this into perspective, thats the size of the average female saltwater crocodile and just shy of the 4.3 meters reached by the contemporary Sacacosuchus. Now on the one hand, I think calling that a juvenile might be a bit of an exaggeration (then again the term subadult is arguably vague and meaningless) and I'm curious to see whether or not an eventual study will back this up with anatomical features or if its even possible that it could just be an instance of dimorphism between sexes. But thats just me musing on the basis of a few photos.

Anyways, given that they just state that this 3 meter animal is a "juvenile", you might wonder how large the adult would be?

The short answer...large. Yeah Piscogavialis got big. The skull alone measures over a meter in length and a recent paper on Sacacosuchus said that they grow to nearly twice the length of their smaller contemporary. With Sacaco sitting at 4.3 meters, one could easily imagine Piscogavialis reaching 7 to maybe 8 meters (I should make a proper scaling at some point). Here's how Gabriel Ugueto and artbyjrc scaled this animal and yeah, even if it ate fish it could probably do some real damage if provoked.

[thesassypadawan]

Santa Tell Me (A.J. x Button!Reader)

Summary:  It’s Christmas Eve and you except your boyfriend of year to pop the question…again.  However, before he can…you surprise him with a special gift of your own.

Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there’s sooo much of the fluff with a bit of the smut. Fun from behind (giddy up), misuse of a jolly old elf’s hat, size diff, ho ho hoe lingerie, and… A.J.’s big, fat dick.

Notes:  Happy Holidays, lovelies!  Welcome to track seven of my special holiday mix, Santa Tell Me! ❤️💚

(Merry Christmas, @everydaydreamer! And thank you for making the perfect pic for this! 🎅)

- ‘Santa, tell me if you're really there…  Don't make me fall in love again if he won't be here next year…’

- One big hand comes to settle on your hip, squeezing gently.  The other taking your smaller one, lazily lacing and intertwining your fingers together.  Swaying you both slowly back and forth to the familiar, festive music.  Blue eyes locked with yours in the mirror’s reflection; gaze warm, affectionate…loving.

- “Look absolutely flawless, doll,” he mutters.  Voice low and gravelly, rumbling deep in his chest…through your petite frame.  Goosebumps forming on your skin…and not from the nonexistent chill in the air.  “Gorgeous like always, ‘cept it’s missin’ one thing.”

- You knew all too well where the conversation was going.  In the short year you two have been an item, you’ve heard it at least a dozen or so times.  The same sweet, endearing request; accompanied by the same little, velvet box.  That he seems to make appear out of nowhere, just like…

- “Oh, baby,” you sigh, hint of sadness in your words.  Watching A.J. pull it out from his vest pocket, fiddle and roll it with his long digits.  “I know you want to marry me bad, but…”

- Words fall short when he pops the lid open.  Revealing not a ring.  Instead what was easily the most beautiful, breathtaking opal necklace you’ve ever seen.

- “I know, I know…‘we’ll see’,” he chuckles.  Repeating your usual response, while helping you put it on.  Calloused fingertips brushing, lingering for an extra moment or two on the nape of your neck.  “Someday though, it’s gonna be…‘yes’.”

- Slight smile pulling at the corners of your pink tinted lips.  As you admire the way it sparkles in the twinkling light, the fact he remembered the significance of this stone.  At the amount of faith, patience he has in and when it comes to you.  Plus a few other things.  “Yeah…we’ll see.”

- Shrugging, leaning down he places a tender kiss on your cheek…the top of your head.  “Come on, we better get goin’.”  Before straightening up once more, giving a quick tap to your perfect bottom.  “Don’t wanna be too late to the party.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

- All evening long, you’re very much an inseparable pair.  Never one without the other, practically glued together at the hip. 

- With you holding onto, pressing into his side.  Peppermint swirled nails occasionally trailing up his spine, gently scratching a certain spot between his shoulder blades.  That has him grunting softly in appreciation…those lean muscles contorting, relaxing beneath your welcomed touch.

- As for him, well…  Hardly a minute passes when he doesn't have an arm wrapped around your waist or a palm resting on the small of your back.  Fingers rubbing, massaging.  Sometimes traveling a bit lower, under the hem of your cocktail dress when he thinks no one is looking…drawing out a tiny, muffled squeak from you each time.

- But on the rare instance when you weren’t attached to your better half.  You could be spotted with the rest of the ladies.  Mingling, being asked, more like grilled, on whether you finally caved…finally gave him the answer he wants to hear and officially join their patchwork family. 

- “We’ll see,” you would reply simply and politely.  Smiling coyly over the rim of your glass, at his turned back from across the room.  Watching as he folded another hand in the guys’ silly card game.  Listening to him echo your own words, undoubtedly given the same question.

- All in all, he whole night went by in what feels like a blur.  Of hearty laughs, variety of decadent treats, one too many cups of good cheer…a few stolen kisses below the mistletoe.  And, soon enough, you find yourself tugging on A.J.’s hand.  Bring him level, whispering in his ear for you to be whisked home.  Where the real party could begin, the best part yet to come…his last gift.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

- Crashing through the front door, nearly chipping the paint and knocking a picture off the wall.  Tongues tangled, lips meshed together in perfect harmony.  With your digits unabashedly pulling at his belt, fumbling for his fly.  And his slipping beneath the folds of your skirt; seeking out that string of mysterious, elusive lace felt during his earlier escapades.

- “Don’t be stingy, sweetheart,” he murmurs between heated kisses.  Hand inching ever higher, palm cupping and kneading a sweet cheek.  “It’s already after midnight.”  Thumb nonchalantly hooking, fiddling with the delicate fabric teasingly…letting it snap.  “Wanna open my present.”

- Jumping slightly, a squeal mixed with an excited giggle bubble up from your throat.  “Mmmh, all right.”   All the while rubbing, massaging that delectable bulge; enticing it to grow, strain the front of his trousers.  “Since you’ve been such a good boy this year.”  Giving it one last gentle squeeze, earning one more grunt.  Before…

- Gone for only a hot minute or two, you return to find him lounging naked on the couch.  Arms draped over the back lazily, long legs spread casually.  Santa hat perched perfectly, barely covering his candy cane and sack of goodies.  “That’s certainly a look, J.”

- Smirking, rising to his feet.  He keeps the jolly old elf’s cap securely in place as he saunters over, comes to meet you in front of the panoramic window.  Fingertips tangling, playing with the ribbon wound and tied perfectly around…  “Says the woman wearin’ paper like a dress.”

- Anticipating the inevitable sassy quip that would undoubtedly come, he acts quickly and smoothly.  “Not that I’m complain’.”  Bending, burying his face into the crook of your neck.  Lavishing your sugar cookie scented skin in love bites and nips.  “Or grateful.”

-As he tears away, takes his time. Savoring, slowly and carefully unwrapping.  “Musta been real good.”  Revealing the sexy, little ho-ho-hoe number that lay beneath.  “To deserve somethin’ this sweet…”

- Skillfully and in a single, fluid motion.  A.J. whirls, twirls you to the music that plays softly in the background.  “…exquisite…”  Pushing you against the cool glass.  Pinning and holding, encompassing you completely with his larger frame. Stocking hat left forgotten on the floor, laying amongst the shreds of discarded paper.  “…wonderful like ya.”

- Eyes hungrily sweep and take in your red, tulle clad form.  Meeting, locking with yours in the reflective surface.  “Now, on them tip-toes, baby doll…”  Palm smoothing down your semi- clothed back, following the intricate details and patterns of the bustier.  Settling on your hip, tugging on it a bit too roughly.  “…lemme try out my new toy.”

- Eagerly you ease, precariously balance on them.  Sparks of anticipation bursting, bemused smile crossing your face.  Watching him still have to slouch, crouch slightly.  To align himself with your aching entrance.  “Sure you’re not too big for this one?”

- Laying tender, adoring kisses along your spine.  His free hand finds, gropes a pert breast.  “Nah, not too big.”  Thumb swirls, fingertips rolls and pinches your pebbled bud.  Fat tip prods, teases at your soaked folds core.  “Always liked my playthings to be a little on the small…”  Surging forward, steadily stretching.  Forcing your tight cunny to open with his thick cock.  “Fuck…side.”

- Moaning, whimpering…nails scramble, scratch lightly.  Palms flatten, brace against the steamed-up glass.  While he thrusts, pounds into you unbridled and wild.  Toned chest pressed to, resting his full weight onto you.  A.J. looms above, grunting and groaning in your ear each time he bottoms out.  Increasing his pace with every powerful drive.

- “So…shit…”  Bullying and hitting, bruising your cervix over and over.  “Lemme get…”  The heat rises, pools in the pit of your stomach.  “Lemme get this straight…”  Peak approaching swiftly, gummy walls fluttering and burning.  “You’ll become the Clause Man’s wife before m-mine?”

- Body tenses, goes ridged.  Starts to shake from all the overwhelming pleasure that courses through.  “Who…who said that wasn’t you…”  You can feel him twitching and throbbing.  Shuddering as he draws closer to his own release, mind-numbing orgasm.  “That you’re not San-San…”

- Slamming hard, you both cry out in bliss.  You clamping and clenching, gushing all over him.  While he paints your insides a sticky, snowy white; stuffing your little stocking nice and full.

- Panting, knees shaking.  He helps you back down onto your feet.  Immediately wrapping, swallowing up your unsteady form in his strong arms.  Laughing happily and joyfully.  Peppering the top of your crown in frantic, loving kisses.  All because you finally agreed.  Said the one thing he’s been waiting to hear since he first presented you with that little, velvet box.  “Then I guess ya better call me Santa… Mrs. Clause.”

- Bursting out into a fit of giggles, sporting an elated grin.  You tilt your head back, teasing playfully…finally getting in a smart remark.  “So, Santa…tell me what else you want?”

- “Yeah, actually.”  Mirroring your smile, he starts to lazily rock…buck and rut again.  “I could think of one thing or two.  Maybe even three.” 

- Santa, tell me if he really cares…  'Cause I can't give it all away if he won't be here next year…’

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @laylaplease, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen, @lotte08, @rafeswifeyy2, @exsamlockwood-kate, @sythethecarrot, @decaffeinatedunicorn, @fuckmyskywalker, @everydaydreamer, @jediavengers, @anisangeldust, @erosmutt, @xhunnybeeex, @vaderswifey, @anakinstwinklebunny

@hearts4sammonroe, @pitas-star, @sythethecarrot, @naberriess, @steven-grants-world, @valyna27, @elcaballerodragon, @yayyy5678, @anakinsrilgirlfriend, @padme-urlove,  @brattyyybbg, @mrschr1stensen, @rosie-chan92, @beresfordsgirl, @darthdaddi, @icosmiclou, @whoisgiinaa, @kentaviax, @arcj

[safination]

Partners in Death...And Life

Part 5: Glimpse of Me and You: Part i

|Part 4: The Radio Stars' Co-Host Just Wants To Do The Dishes| |Part 5: Gimpse of me and you: Part ii| |Masterlist| Ao3| Taglist| Pairings: Alastor x wife! Reader Tags: fem!reader, established relationships, Asexual! Alastor, Reader is in hell for a reason Warning: Blood and dead bodies <3| A little bit suggestive Series summary: After a seven-year absence, you find the man you were married to in life, not only back in town, but also helping...*checks notes*... the Princess of Hell run a hotel aimed at rehabilitating sinners who were sent to the bad place for a reason. Now, I know what you must be thinking. Part 1? Yeah…this chapter is supposed to actually be much longer, but the second part of the fic isn’t complete yet and I have like two more exams. And biochemistry isn’t something to laugh about. I am slowly losing my mind. I close my eyes and I see aldehydes and hemiketals. Anyway, part two of this will be posted in like two or three days. It’s already drafted, just need to edit it. So here’s a bite size chapter. It contains marriage years 1930 and 1931. 1932 isn't complete yet, sadly. It was quite long, so part 2 will just be 1932.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

1930

 That blasted car is too far.

With each step, the tip of your heels scrape the pavement. Shoe maintenance tells you that dragging the rubber tip shortens its lifespan, but your toes pinch when you lift your shoe.

Alastor takes long strides, walking with the pace of a man with his ass on fire. Pick a struggle. One either walks fast but takes short strides, or walks slow but takes long strides. It’s unethical to have both.

Streetlamps illuminate the sidewalk. The dried leaves scattered around catch on your shoe, and the city’s smog particles stick on your skin.

The city sucks ass.

Alastor will have to drag you by the hair to force you to take another step on this cockroach infested streets. One taste of that fresh air surrounding your shared home, and suddenly, you’ve gone soft. Gone are the days where second-hand smoke reminded you of home. Now, home is the radio’s volume turned up in ungodly hours.

Alastor tightens his arm around yours, pulling you closer to him.

He’s wearing his favorite bowtie tonight. Everything from the shine of his shoes to the way he combed his hair screams fancy . . . except for that bowtie.

It’s not something meant for exquisite dinners with your wife.

You didn’t understand his instance. It was something you picked up on your way home one day, a measly scrap of fabric you purchased back when you didn’t know what good quality bow ties were. Alastor should know of its poor quality, yet he calls it his favorite.

Alastor lowers closer to your ear. “Is this your way of telling me you wish to visit the city’s zoo?”

“Zoo . . . ?” you echo. These shoes are going straight in the garbage bin once you get home. “Why would I want to go there?”

Alastor presses a kiss on your cheek. “I thought you were doing a penguin impression. It's a rather fabulous one, might I add.”

“Ha . . . Ha . . . Ha. It’s because I’m walking like a penguin. Not your best one, dearest,” you say, patting his biceps. They’re firmer than they look. “That’s a little bit on the nose. Is it an off night for you?”

“Your feet are hurting,” Alastor tells you like you don’t feel the way your toes slowly lose blood circulation. “I wonder . . . . Will you deny it? Or are you willing to humble yourself before me, and ask for a seat? There’s still a few more blocks until we reach the car.”

Now, there’s absolutely no way you are going to tell Alastor how your feet pinch and your ankle wobble.

With a bright smile, and sheer acting, you continue walking. “Did you do this on purpose?”

Alastor raises his eyebrows. “You were the one who insisted on accompanying me.”

“Well, my feet feel perfectly normal,” you say as your toes buzz. “This is nothing. You should see how long I’m on my feet during work.”

“Yes, because that is a perfectly acceptable thing to happen in workplaces, dearest.” Alastor tightens his arm once more. His thumb brushes up and down your arm. “I would say it pains me to say this, but we both know that would be a lie. I told you so.”

“You did not, actually,” you say, shaking your foot to dislodge the leaves sticking to the bottom of your shoe. “You barely took one glance and said, ‘ Those look lovely, dear! ’.”

Alastor pauses his steps, and turns to you with a smile. The night does little to dull how bright his brown eyes shine like stardust to you.

He reaches out towards you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. He tugs on your ear, and you slap his hand away.

Alastor massages his hand. “That hurt, you know,” he says. “But I meant about waiting. You should still be enjoying your drink.”

“And leaves my dearest, darling husband out here? Alone?” you snort, pulling him to continue walking. “I think I remember someone telling me that thieves don’t dissolve in the sun. Imagine them in the dark!”

“And what would be your plan if we both get robbed?”

You show Alastor your biggest smile. “It’s a good thing I have such a big and scary husband to protect me  . . . You . . . You would protect me, right?”

Alastor’s laughter rings across the air. It’s breathy and light and absolutely everything to you.

Alastor grabs your hand and intertwine his fingers around yours. He leads you further into the streets. Soon, smooth pavements replace the pot holes. Leaves replace the scattered beer cans. Grass replace the asphalt roads. Treen replace the buildings. Alastor pulls you deeper into some tiny park where the streetlamps are brighter, and the air smells closer to home.

You follow him, squeezing his hand.

Alastor squeezes back.

At the corner of this park, a children’s playground stands.

The dark does little to dull the bright colors of the seesaw and monkey bars. In the middle, a pirate-shim themed deck connects to a slide. The swing sways lazily with the nudge of the night’s breeze. There’s not a single living soul except for you and him. It’s eerie to see such a place empty when it should be filled to the brim with the life of children’s laughter.

Alastor’s strides become longer, and his pace even faster as he pulls you closer to the playground’s swing.

He releases his grip, and suddenly, your hand belongs to you once more. Alastor brushes the sand off the swing, and offers you a seat with a bow and outstretched arms.

You take the seat. The pressure lifts from your buzzing toes. It’s almost heavenly.

Alastor slides his coat off his shoulders. With soft giggles and a stupid smile, you watch him pull his arm out. Sleeve garters are worn for practical uses, but as a fashion piece . . . .Hmmm, it’s a great look on him. It’s a shame Alastor often hides how those garters compliment his biceps with a coat. How long would it take to hide every single coat he owns?

Alastor slides his eyes to you. It lingers. “Stop that.”

You offer him your most innocent smile as a reply.

Alastor inches close enough for you to inhale his scent. He drapes his coat over your shoulders, pulling on the lapels to secure it around your shoulders.

You press your lips on the corner of his mouth. “Thank you.”

Alastor kneels on the ground. He pulls your ankle towards him, sliding off your heel. “That’s all you’re going to say?”

You kiss his cheek. “Was there something else I needed to say?” you ask. “That seemed like a proper response.”

He glides his thumb over the reddened parts of your skin, massaging your foot. “Exactly . . . .It was a proper response,” he tells you. “Aren’t you going to question me? Demand to know if I’m going to kill you?”

“I think what you’re doing is rather obvious.”

Alastor stores your shoes to the side, and leaves your feet hanging out in the air. He circles behind you, hovering close enough to feel his presence, even with the coat. He wraps his hands around the metal chain connected to the swing, and sways you back and forth. “Did you enjoy the restaurant? A co-worker recommended it to me.”

“And in the off chance I don’t, will I be seeing that co-worker lying in the middle of our basement?”

Alastor smiles at you. “That depends,” he says. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

You tilt your head backwards to catch his eyes. “Is this a trick question? Am I supposed to say that nothing can compare to your cooking, or something along those lines?”

Alastor shakes the chains, jerking the swing. “You’re supposed to give me an actual answer,” he says, rolling his eyes. “We can come back if you liked it.”

You lean on Alastor’s leg, using it as a backrest. “Every meal is enjoyable when I am in your company, my love” you say. “But that crab was something else. It looked expensive . . . We’re, uh, not suddenly going to become poor, right?”

Alastor stares at you. “I’m going to push you off.”

You wrap your hands around Alastor’s, keeping his hold around the chains firm. “What did I do this time?”

Alastor sighs, and swings you gently. “I can afford nice dinners with you.”

“Just me?”

“Only you.”

Alastor pulls you to your feet. Sand pools around your toes. You pull his coat closer around your shoulders as he drags you closer to the pirate-ship themed deck. He releases his hold on your hand, and your fingers brush against each other.

He walks to the platform. The entrance was made for children, so Alastor has to crawl and duck underneath to access the slide.

You fiddle with the lapels of his coat. “What are you doing?”

Alastor glances back at you, smiling as he crawls underneath the entrance. His ass sticks out when he does. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“If your ass gets stuck,” you begin, crossing your arms, “I’m going to leave you here.”

Alastor rolls his eyes, shimmying further into the entrance. “How lucky then that it’s, apparently, horrendously flat,” he says. “There’s nothing there to get stuck.”

“There’s nothing horrendous about it,” you say with a smile. “I see you’re wearing the pants I like.”

Alastor snorts. “Oh, shut up.”

“Not a chance.” Your smile twists brighter.

Alastor grabs the railing, and pulls himself up. His biceps contract when he does. Sleeve garters and railing are for practical uses, but the only thing echoing through your mind were impractical uses right now. Impractical but exciting . . . .You need to get it together.

“ . . . Flirting,” Alastor says, pulling your mind from wherever it wandered off to. “Really?”

“That was hardly flirting, dearest.”

Alastor ducks into the slide. His ass lands on the sand, and he curses into the air.  You cough to stifle a laugh.

He hops to his feet, brushing the sand off his pants. His lips twist and his eyebrows furrow as he cringes in pain. “This is a hazard,” he says, glaring at the slide. He turns to you and smiles. “You should try it.”

“How brave of you to risk a shattered tailbone for me,” you say. “But I’m not sliding down that thing when you just called it a hazard.”

“You are an incredibly boring person,” he tells you. “Is it not a fad nowadays to be loose and goofy against these depressing times of economic downfall?”

Your raise your eyebrow.” You want me to crawl up there and slide down in this outfit?”

Alastor leans on the side of the slide. “I don’t see any good reason not to.”

“If you wish to ogle my undergarments, there’s no need to concoct such a scheme,” you say, smiling at him. “You merely need to ask.”

Alastor’s lips twist. “I’m not—”

“Oh, calm down, I’m just pulling your leg,” you say, snorting. “You would need to think of someone besides yourself to do such a thing. So, there’s no need to get your perfect little head into such a fuss.”

“Stop it.”

You smile innocently. “No.”

Alastor walks closer to you. “And you wonder why no one wanted to play with you as a child.”

You take steps to walk closer to him as well, meeting him halfway. “Everyone wanted to play with me,” you say. “I’ll have you know that I was quite the delight.”

You stand before each other, inches apart.

Alastor stares at you. What do those eyes tell him as he watches you stand before him, buried into his coat? He leans closer to you. “I doubt that.”

You take a step closer and slide your arms around him to bury yourself into his hold.

“How rude,” you say with a smile. You look up at him to hold his gaze, propping your chin on his chest. His arms tighten around your back. “I was such a delightful child that I would have played with you, even when no other kid wanted to do so.”

Alastor leans down, pecking your lips. You inch upwards to chase his lips, but self-control takes over. “You are and always will be a nerd,” he says. “You were probably the type to read during the afternoon.”

You tighten your hug on him. “What an incredible assumption to make.”

Alastor places a hand on your head. “Am I wrong?”

“I’m not telling you that,” you say, leaning your head into his chest.

Alastor pulls away from the hug, grabbing your hand to drag you to the monkey bars.

He climbs to the very top, and swings his legs to sit between the bars. He offers his hand, and you take it. His thumb brushes over your fingers and you climb up the steps and onto the bars. It’s difficult to maneuver with such a fancy outfit. Alastor keeps a steady hand on you, and the other goes on your waist as you slide to sit next to him.

The whole playground can be seen from the top of the monkey bars.

“If you weren’t a nerd,” Alastor begins, bumping your shoulder with his, “then you were probably a bully.”

You grip the bar, leaning back to stare. His hair brushes over his eyes. Alastor runs a hand over the strands to push it back. You reach out and push his glasses up his nose. “What makes you say that?”

Alastor boops your nose. “You’re a pretty little thing who works in healthcare. Isn’t there a stereotype for that?”

You blink at him a bit dumbly, cheeks flushed and tingling. Heat trails up your skin, and you have to turn away to hide from his gaze. “You think I’m pretty?” you ask rather idiotically. Deep breaths are needed to calm yourself. “Look . . . look who’s flirting now.”

Alastor hooks his legs on the bar, and swings backwards. He hangs in the air, the force of his legs the only thing keeping him from falling.

 “Don’t do that,” you say, hissing. “You could break your neck.”

Alastor catches your eye with a wild smile. “I won’t.”

“And I’ll be sure to tell that to my next husband as we’re spending all your money,” you tell him. “Now get down from there before you make me a widow!”

Alastor releases his legs from the bar, and his body smacks on the ground. He lies motionless on the sand.

With a sigh, you carefully climb down the monkey bars. You nudge Alastor’s bicep with your foot when you reach him. “You’re not fooling anyone.”

Silence.

You fold the skirt of your dress, and sit across him. You slam your head onto him, using his chest as a pillow.

“Oof!” Alastor curls into you a bit, eyes twitching. He drapes an arm over your stomach, and draws spirals with his finger.

“I think we could have been friends when we were children,” you say, smiling as you feel the way his chest rises up and down with each breath he takes.

Alastor studies the sky. There are no stars to look at here in the city. It’s covered by the lights and the smog. “We wouldn’t. I probably would have hated you.”

“You—Hate me? Impossible!” you say with a laugh. “You think I’m pretty.”

“Ha. Ha,” he says. “You think you’re so clever.”

You intertwine your fingers with his, tracing the ring on his finger. “Sadly, I think I’ll have to agree,” you say. “I probably would have hated you as well.”

“I’m impossible to hate.”

“I'm sure I, of all people, could find a way,” you say with a smile. “Kids can be mean. And you were probably a really weird one.”

Alastor raises his hand to the air, studying his ring against the dark sky. You do the same. Both rings shimmer in the night. “Yet . . . ,” he starts, “here we are, married.”

“I can’t believe we actually got married.”

“I can.”

“Is this where you’ll tell me all about how you fell in love with me at first sight?” your snort. “That my smile and incredible stitching told you I was the woman you were going to wash dishes with for the rest of your life.”

Alastor laughs and his chest rises and falls. “Well, it wasn't flirting.”

“I did not flirt with you.”

“You did.”

“I didn’t.”

“On our third meeting, you told me we walked to the wrong house, just to spend four hours with me in the rain,” Alastor says, and you see the smile creeping on his lips. “You were so entrapped by my very being that you couldn’t bear to spend another second without me. You looked like you wanted to kis—”

You slam your head down into his chest. “Oh, shut up.”

Alastor glances at you. “Not a chance.”

“Okay then, well I remember two people underneath that umbrella,” you say with a huff. “You accepted my invitation.”

“I did,” he says. “Although, I had the excuse of needing to gather information on such a suspicious person. That was purely professional.”

“And you decided that an additional four hours of walking was necessary,” you say. “You could have stopped entertaining me in the first hour or even the second, but you spent all four hours getting your shoulders wet.”

“I did, indeed.”

Laughter rings into the air. With each and every of Alastor’s laugh, your head bounces up and down. You bury your face deeper into his chest, laughing against it.

“We’ve been married for more than a year,” you say. “How has it been for you?”

“Nothing much has changed, surprisingly,” Alastor says, shrugging his shoulders. “The only thing that’s different is I get to say the most ridiculous thing like how completing it is to be able to just exist with you.”

You take his hand, bringing it closer to your mouth to brush a soft kiss. “There’s nothing ridiculous about it, my love. I enjoy how completing it is to be able to just exist when you are with me,” you say, and Alastor caresses your cheek, trailing the back of his fingers down your skin. “Shall we head home?”

There’s a brightness in Alastor’s eyes when he smiles. “Not yet,” he says. “Let’s stay like this for a moment.”

Maybe the city isn’t so awful. Alastor could ask you to stay in this park forever, and you would happily breathe in the smog. Later, you will have to stand and grab your shoes, and finally head home to prepare for the next day. But that’s later. This is now.

You giggle against his chest. “You think I’m pretty.”

Alastor groans, placing a hand over his eyes.

There will be a lifetime of moments like this waiting for you in a world where you both just exist.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

1931  

The needle pierces through the fabric. You tug on it, pulling the blue thread up and then around to create a simple back stitch. The cat’s outline pieces together. Later, you’ll fill the cloth with grass and flowers, and a little butterfly to give the cat a friend. Should you gift this to Alastor? Well, either way, he’ll find a way to display it around the house sooner or later.

The radio crackles, and music fades into the background.

Soft taps sound on the speaker. “ Before I leave for the night ,” Alastor’s voice rings from the radio, “ I would like to call any attention to any wives out there, especially the one married to me .”

It doesn’t matter that Alastor is all the way at work, miles away, you still roll your eyes at him . . . but you turn the volume up, listening closely to what he has to say.

“ I know my voice can get, oh, so, entrapping ,” he says, and you swear you can hear him smile. “ Thus, this is a gentle encouragement to complete any tasks you are putting off. For example, you could take out the trash like what was agreed upon .”

You glare at the radio, flicking its wood. “Oh, I hate you,” you mutter. “I hate you so much.”

“ Now, now, dearest, we both know that is a lie ,” Alastor says. “ Don’t wait up! ”

The music fades back in, and the broadcast ends for the night.

He likes to think he’s so clever. Let’s see how clever he’ll be when you kill him in his sleep. It will be easy, barely an inconvenience. You’ll drop a pillow right over that handsome face of his, and laugh as he chokes on his own ego.

However, . . . with a sigh . . . you take out the trash . . . like what was agreed upon.

The air is cold at this time of night. The moon looks beautiful tonight, it’s light illuminating the garden. It would be a shame to waste such a breathtaking sight. A part of you wishes to share this with Alastor, that he could be here, right now, and stare at the moon next to you. And the two of you will exist in each other’s company.

You grab the unfinished art piece, and continue on the rocking chair, stitching and listening to the crickets.

It takes hours of stitching and sore fingers, but Alastor’s car finally pulls up the driveway. The engine dies, and he hops out of the car, circling to the trunk and popping it open.

You drop your things, and take a seat on the porch steps to watch him, the moon no longer being the most breathtaking sight.

Alastor’s still wearing his favorite bowtie. It’s too dark to see clearly, but you think he’s pulling out a body from the car’s trunk. He grabs the straps of the obviously filled cadaver bag, letting it drag across the floor.

A good wife would help their husbands carry a very heavy and very dead body. But . . . if it means being able to sit and stare at your husband hauling a very, very dead person, then maybe, being a good wife is overrated.

Alastor pauses when he sees you, dropping the straps of the cadaver bag. “What are—Is something wrong?”

You smile at the urgency in his voice. “No, not one bit,” you say, leaning on your head on your hand. “Don’t stop on my account.”

“You should be in bed,” he says, crossing his arms. “I told you not to wait for me.”

Your huff, blowing strands of your hair off your face. “Did you? This is the first I’m hearing of this.”

“I did,” Alastor tells you. “Did you not catch tonight’s broadcast?”

“It was a rather busy day. I had things to do, people to see, and all that.”

Even in the dark, you see the way Alastor’s grin widens. He steps towards the garbage bin, opening the lid to check its content. “You are such a horrible liar,” he says, snorting. “I see you got my message.”

Alastor steps into the light.

Part of his hair slicks back. It’s different from its usually neat look. His sleeves are pulled up, folded until his elbow. There are several red stains on him. It’s on his hair, stains his clothes, and paints his face. His eyes have never looked so brown before. How does Alastor manage to make murder . . . into . . . into . . . . You clear your throat a bit, already counting the day until the next time he goes on his hunts.

“Why, hello there, stranger,” you say, not bothering to fight the smile on your lips. “It’s rather cold tonight. Would you mind keeping a lady company?”

Alastor rolls his eyes, brushing back his hair. “I’m a mess.”

“Red’s a great look,” you say. “The seat next to me is empty.”

“Flirting, really?” he says, but he sits next to you. “You’re getting shameless these days.”

You press your lips on his cheek. “For you?” Another kiss. “Always.”

Alastor takes off his coat. The fabric pools around his broad shoulders and down his back before he pulls out his arms. He throws it at your face, smacking you with it. “I hope you don’t go around saying stuff like that to every man you see,” he says, smiling at you. “I might get jealous.”

You peel off his coat from your face, wrapping it around your shoulders. “Only the one married to me,” you tell him. “You should see how I flirt with my husband.”

Alastor props an arm on the steps, leaning back to meet your eyes. “How disappointing to hear you’re married.”

“Don’t be! This current one won’t be alive for very long, so there’s going to be an open spot,” you say, waving your hands. “Are you interested in taking his place? I hope you are—you’re much more handsome than he is.”

Alastor flicks your nose. “Funny.”

You rub your nose a bit. “So . . . ,” you begin, propping your legs across Alastor’s lap, “what is a charming thing like you doing in these woods?”

A strong breeze sways his hair into his eyes. Alastor pushes the strands away, smiling at you like he always does. “What an honor it is to be called charming by you.”

“Oh, not just charming!” you say, clutching your heart as you swoon. “Has anyone ever told you how handsome you are?”

Alastor laughs, and his glasses slide down his nose. You push it up for him. “Not nearly enough,” he says. “Maybe I should take your husband’s open spot, afterall. My wife never compliments me as much as you do.”

He traces circles on the skin of your legs. You give him a little kick for what he said. “Maybe she would say it more if your ego didn’t inflate every time,” you say. “I would go as far as to say she’s doing God’s work by keeping you humble.”

Alastor pushes your legs off his lap.

He reaches into his pocket and takes out his handkerchief. Your eyes catch on the little design embroidered on the fabric. “Since you insist on keeping me here, you should at least help clean me up,” he says, offering the cloth to you. “I would do it myself, but there’s no mirror here.”

“Why clean such a masterpiece?” you say, but accept the handkerchief anyway. “May I?”

Alastor nods, inching close enough for the smell of rusted copper and iron to hit your nose. Intoxicating. It was just plainly and simply . . . divine. Like a rose that fell straight from heaven’s garden.

You wipe blood off his face. Some of the streaks had already dried. There’s a stubborn spot right on his jaw. You brush the back of your fingers down his cheek, trailing it down until you hook it right under his chin.

How does your face look right now for Alastor to stare at you with wide eyes?

The smudge line of blood that paints his jaw isn’t clearing. It’s too dry. You inch your face closer, brushing your nose on his skin as you inhale the dangerous combination of Alastor mixing with the strong undertones of iron.  Soft exhales land on his skin. Your lips part, giving way to moisten that dried spot with your tongue, trailing it up his jaw.

The hints of metal tingle against your tongue. It was sweet and salty, and it combined with Alastor to create something akin to aged fine wine. But not even the most expensive wine could be as intoxicating as this.

Alastor grabs your face, pulling you to meet his eyes. He squishes your cheeks. “That’s unsanitary!” he says, hissing. “You don’t know what type of bacteria mixed in it.”

You pull your face away from his hold, giving him your most innocent smile.

Hopping to your feet, you circle around the dead body that lies in a very dead position on the ground. You kneel, heart thumping, and pull the zipper down.

“Oh . . . ,” you say, taking in the violence this man experienced, “ . . . wow.”

Alastor was not kind to this man, for this one died screaming.

Alastor leans his arms on his knees, smiling at you. “ I got a little carried away,” he says. “Will you still be able to use him?”

“I think he’ll agree that got more than a little carried away,” you say, snorting as you zip the body back into its bag. “Shall I fetch the bone saw?”

“It’s that bad?”

You walk over to where Alastor sits on the steps, climbing to hover on top of him. The only thing keeping you from crashing down on his chest are the way your hands grip the wood behind him. Inches of space separate your bodies. How far will Alastor entertain you?

You smile down at him, trapping him on the steps between your arms. “I can have this one in pieces by sunrise,” you say, voice barely a whisper. “You can grab the spare, and we can call it a date.”

Alastor tilts his chin up to meet your eyes as he smiles at you. “And tell me,” he begins, voice just as soft as yours. He settles his hands on your waist to steady you above him, “how do you plan on achieving his?”

You trace his shoulder, trailing your fingers up his clavicle bone. “It’s like cutting a chicken,” you say. “All I need to do is take my knife and pound the edge across the joints to disconnect his limbs in one swift motion. Smaller pieces would require the saw.”

Alastor pushes himself upwards, and presses a kiss on your cheek. “And you would spend all night cutting this man for me?”

You hum with delight. “Only for you.”

Alastor tugs your waist, and you come crashing on top of him. You curse as your hands slip, and your face lands on his chest. Alastor hugs you, his laughter ringing in the air, breathy and light and so full of delight. “You are the most ridiculous person to be able to exist with.”

You laugh, accepting how Alastor is the one doing the trapping now. “I’m honored you think so.”

“I think that was the most romantic thing I have ever heard in my life,” he says. “I think I could kiss you right now.”

“Don’t let your wife catch you saying that.” You snake your arms around Alastor’s back, tightening the hug he shares with you. “I hear she gets extremely jealous, and it’s never a smart idea to cross a woman who owns a bone saw.”

Alastor’s back digs into the edges of the porch steps. If your added weight lodges the wood deeper into his back, then he makes no complaints. “That’s truly an idiotic thing to do.”

You press yourself deeper into his hold. It’s quite ridiculous. Hugging you on top of the steps must be uncomfortable, but Alastor does so anyway.

In the end, it’s you who pulls away first, but only to save him from an aching back.

 Grasping the steps, you climb higher and press your lips on his forehead. You take the seat next to him. Alastor reaches for you, adjusting his coat around your shoulders to secure you from the night’s cold breeze.

“Bad day at work?” you say, leaning your head on his shoulder.

Alastor leans his head on top of yours. “I’m better now.”

You press deeper into him, laughing against his dress shirt. It’s stained with blood, but you don’t mind. “So, tell me, who is this unfortunate fellow that was on the receiving end of your stress,” you say. “And should I be jealous?”

“I don’t know if I should answer that—Do you happen to own a bone saw?”

You swat his arm, rolling your eyes as you do.

Alastor presses his body closer against yours. “I would love to hear you guess.”

“ Hmmm . . . .Well, this is Larry, and he comes from humble beginnings,” you tell him. “He’s a self-made man who met this pretty little thing.”

Alastor takes your hand, thumbing the ring on your finger. “You’re getting better at this.”

There are too many stains on Alastor’s shirt. It’s beyond saving. You’ll have to burn his whole outfit. “Larry met this most darling belle. They were happy until tragedy struck.”

Alastor pulls off his gloves, intertwining his bare fingers with yours. “I do love a tragedy.”

“They fell in love.”

“That’s not tragic,” he says, snorting.

“Then you are a fool, dearest. Love can kill in a way no one has ever been able to describe. Not even the greatest poets can describe the true depths of loss,” you tell him, squeezing his hand. “Homes have been burned in its name.”

Alastor kisses your cheek. “And how did Larry suffer?”

“His darling got taken away from him, in more ways than one,” you say. “Even on her deathbed, she could not recognize him.”

Alastor clutches his heart. “How truly heartbreak!”

You glance up at Alastor. He’s looking at the moon. “Yet, here you are smiling.”

“That’s because you are the most fantastic story teller.”

You pull away to stand, and your fingers brush as it slips out of his.

The porch stairs creak with every step. You reach for the radio on the windowsill, turning the knob until a faint click. Alastor’s lips twist when you change his pre-set station for softer melodies. That man and his radios—Always so particular.

You offer a hand to Alastor, giving him a small bow. “Dance with me?”

“I’m not exactly dressed for the occasion,” Alastor tells you, yet he takes your hand in his.

“There’s no need to worry about such trifling things,” you say. “I think you look divine, like a rose straight from heaven made just for me.”

Alastor wraps his hand around your own, and settles the other on your waist. Dancing can barely describe what you’re doing, not when the both of you only had the energy to sway to the music. But nevertheless, Alastor takes the lead on this dance.

He raises his arm, twirling you underneath. Your eyes lock together when you face him. “Hi.”

You smile at him. “Hi.”

“I’ve been wondering . . . How did you know work was stressing me?” he says, as you dance to the radio’s music. “Why say work specifically?”

You tilt your head, motioning to the window behind you. “That radio over there,” you say. “The one you keep by your chair. You were listening to it this morning when I gave you coffee.”

You hum the lyrics of the song that plays on the radio. It’s quite nice. Maybe you’ll ask Alastor to play it during his broadcast as a dedication to you. But knowing him, he’ll take this opportunity to become a nuisance made for you, and find something to poke fun about.

His eyebrows furrow. “I don’t understand.”

“You listen to that specific radio when you’re happy,” you say. Those brown eyes of his shift to you. In your most humble opinion, they shine brighter than the stars. “You were fine when you left but somewhere between leaving and coming home to me, your mood turned sour.”

Alastor presses a kiss on your fingers, brushing his lips over your skin with each word. “I would love to hear more about this.”

“The one in the kitchen, that’s for when you’re tired,” you say, chuckling. “The one in the office is for when you’re bored. You listen to the one on our nightstand when you’re thinking or upset.”

“Then what about the radio in the basement?” he asks with a smile that could rival the moon. “Tell me when I listen to that one.”

“That one is for me. You leave it there so I have something to keep me company,” you say. “The saxophone, on the other hand, is for when you’re frustrated.”

“And now, you’re just a master of what I’m feeling.”

“Not at all,” you say with a shrug. “I don’t know how you feel right now.”

Alastor inches closer, leaning down to meet your eyes. “Would you like to know?”

“Sure.”

Alastor places a hand on your cheek, caressing you with his thumb. You lean into how gently he traces your face. He leans closer, nudging his nose against your own. Alastor brushes his lips over you, and the cracks on his lip prick you. Why he decided to torture you with soft touches and hovering inches away exceeds your understanding.

The strong scent of copper and iron on his skin intoxicate every molecule that makes up your body. He’s unfair. Too unfair of him to hold such power over you. Alastor would love to know how he makes your skin buzz with each and every glance of those too brown eyes that shine brighter than starlight. This is a fact you will take to your grave.

Your eyes flutter to a close. Alastor decides to show you mercy, finally kissing your lips.

Open!

The demand drums across your mind.

Your eyelids stay shut as you kiss him back. The need to look at Alastor’s too brown eyes shout at you. What face is Alastor making right now? How does he look? What do those eyes see?

But he kisses you gently. Oh . . . so . . . gently. Alastor kisses you like he had something to say. There are words being whispered across your skin as your lips move together. His thumb brushes your skin, and you can’t open your eyes.

Kissing him makes you wish you spent your youth studying poems and soft metaphors instead of the role of hexokinase in turning Glucose into Glucose-6-phosphate. This wish comes suddenly and out of nowhere. Not once have you ever wished for a different pursuit. But you would forfeit all your knowledge to be able to describe the way Alastor’s lips strike you to your very soul.

That thought disappears quickly, mind too preoccupied with the overwhelming sensation of soft lips placing kiss after kiss. The arm around your waist pulls you close, your body pressing against his own as if it was the most natural thing to place you there, as if the Seraphim creating your bodies carved you to belong.

Alastor pulls away with a soft smile.

It takes every ounce of your self-control not to chase after his lips and pull him back to you. Heat flushes your face. You can’t find the strength to open your eyes, not with how much he makes your cheeks tingle.

“You’ve been observing me.” Alastor brushes your eyelids with his thumb. “Open your eyes.”

Your eyes flutter, heeding to his demand. There it is, your favorite sight looking straight at you, holding a beauty that the moon cannot compete against—his eyes. “Hi.”

Alastor’s smile widens. “Hi.”

There are words that bubble on your lips. Words that are begging to be said. Three words that could very well make this man run when he understands just how deep those words mean for him.

And there it is again, that wish to become a poet because those three words can never truly describe what is imprinted on your soul’s very essence. Those three words are not enough for a man who deserves poems full of soft metaphors and sweet analogies.

“That’s because I . . . I . . . ,” you trail off, hiding your face in his chest. “I think that’s just called marriage, and I always was weak to such radiant beauty.”

Coward . . . You are a coward.

That’s okay.

You don’t mind the word being shouted to you by your heart, not when it means you can guard it with walls.

It’s okay to be a coward, because it means there will always be a tomorrow. There will always be another chance, another moment, another day to be brave. Another tomorrow. Another next week. Another next month. Another next year.

There’s no need to tell Alastor the word your soul desperately wants him to understand. Not right now, at least.

Not when the evidence is already there: You and him.

There will be a lifetime of moments like this waiting for you in a world where you are his.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Next Part: |Glimpse of Me and You: Part 2| Don't be shy to talk to me. I don't bite at all! I would love to hear your thoughts on the chapter. And all comments really motivate me to work <3. 1932 will be posted in a few days. 1933 on the other hand….Well, let’s just say that such a grand year needs its own chapter. As I was writing this, I kept going back to the idea that Reader can flirt, but can't handle being flirted back. It was too funny not to add. And like I swear heart appears in my eyes, as well as Reaader's eyes everytime Alastor does anything just slightly unhinged. That too was too funny not to add. Taglist: @mybrainautocorrect @ray-rook @teavibesaf @valentique @qardasngan @alastorssimp @aestheticgals-blog @slaggylemon @reikamasama @obessivlyonline @okay-babe @lyralibra @holymusicalmothman @amoraneuro @tobyisher3

[niobiumao3]

I've been thinking about the whole Crosshair and CX-2 situation, and I am beginning to wonder if, should CX-2 prove to be Tech, Crosshair didn't, in fact, know.

In an interview before the premiere, Michelle Ang mentioned Crosshair getting to see forgiveness and real love in the face of a great betrayal. Now, Crosshair's great betrayals are long past. So, is this some NEW betrayal? Is it someone ELSE betraying and being forgiven? CX-Tech fits the later very neatly, however, there might be another option: that Crosshair DOES know CX-2 is Tech, and has been not telling everyone because he blames himself for it happening and is sure they'll all turn him out the second they discover it (Omega included).

I'm of two minds here.

Crosshair didn't know, because Tech was put straight into conversion from medical care, and so Crosshair never saw him.

Crosshair DOES know, and feels black-hole sized guilt about it to the point where he can't bring himself to tell anyone.

In the #2 bucket goes a few things:

We see, repeatedly, that Crosshair isn't saying everything about Tantiss. This is as true for Hunter (the person always mentioning this) as it is for us, as our POV on Tantiss was almost exclusively Omega. Hunter knows Crosshair hasn't told them everything, and isn't going to push him except in specific instances where it really woulda been nice to know.

We do know that the CX conditioning is bad. Like, really bad, bad enough that wiping out your identity--not just the chip but like, you, yourself--is part of it. Or, so Crosshair says (and Tech in S2), though of course the truth of that might be more complex. This is reason enough for him to not talk about things. Except...

When Rex and Howzer explain they have a CX in custody Crosshair is immediately spooked. Then he's even MORE upset when he sees who it is. Or is it because of who it isn't?

If he knew CX-2 was Tech, and sees CX-1, he knows there is only one other CX they're sending after them, and the absolute last thing he would want is for them to have to kill Tech to get away. Or worse, kill the person who used to be Tech and can't be reclaimed (from his POV). Either way, from his POV, it is all bad news that CX-2 is inbound.

And as much as I feel Cross just isn't a hand to hand badass, at the end of his one on one with CX-2, he is clearly giving up. Everything CX-2 is saying is battering him emotionally and dousing the fight in him. Which makes a lot of sense, if he knows it's Tech.

For #1, well, the explanation is much simpler: we, and Omega and Crosshair, never see Tech in CX conditioning because he was in a bacta tank for part of it and then into a pod for the rest. He might have even converted quickly if we're to assume he had amnesia from the fall. (I suspect, should he prove to be CX-2, we won't get an explanation for this.) This actually would give Omega AND Crosshair some severe guilt, realizing when they escaped they left Tech on Tantiss in Hemlock's not-so-stellar care. It makes sense Crosshair would never want to go back--the conditioning sounds pretty awful. But then his reaction to CX-1 is a little less clear; we know there aren't very many CXes at this point, so why is THIS one such a concern to him? He just appears to be a reg. And CX-1's use of 'brother' is also very pointed. Which would make sense if CX-2 is Tech, who would have referred to Crosshair as his brother...

Anyways. We'll see if this pans out. I'd considered this might be the case even as I was like 'are we really doing that', and while I'm not a fan of this plot in the overall, like a cat being dragged outside on a harness for some enrichment I can grudgingly accept it. Mostly.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hello hello friendo! I was wondering if I could request a Wally x wolf puppet reader? the scenario being that the other neighbors are afraid of R (reader) no matter what due to them looking like a big 'bad' wolf, R's appearance is quite frightful; stitches in a few places along with big teeth and claws plus they are on the large size (roughly Barnaby's size, if not a bit shorter). While on the outside they look all mean they are actually really sweet and just want to make friends.

"Do you think I'm doing something wrong, Wally? 'cuz I feel...unwanted here."

"No, no. You've done nothing wrong, Neighbor! What made you think of such silly things?"

"...well everyone's still acting like I'm gonna eat them for breakfast."

"Breakfast?? Why, that's nonsense. Breakfast is composed of bacon, eggs, juice, and toast..not people!"

"Uh, that was just a....nevermind." Sighing, you shook your head as you gave up trying to explain the idiom to Wally. But having this conversation with him over the phone did manage to cheer you up a little.

How you wished it was this easy talking to the rest of the neighbors, though they were all absolutely terrified of you and would've hung up the second they heard your voice.

Fortunately, Wally had recently learned a valuable lesson from Barnaby, who told him that he should never "judge a book by its cover". And he lived by that philosophy every time a newcomer came to town, whether they stayed or left.

You were no exception despite being a rather frightening-looking wolf with large sharp teeth, untrimmed claws, and stitches all over your body that made you look like a zombie. Of course, your clothes covered most of them, yet they didn't fully hide all of the things your neighbors were afraid of.

Of course, it didn't help that you're the child of The Big Bad Wolf...but you're nothing like him! You're not deceptive or evil in any way; all you wanted to do was make new friends.

But that was tough to prove when someone screamed if you so much as smiled at them.

Poppy was understandable, given she was a bird who already had some anxiety issues to begin with. And Barnaby was alright since you're both tall canines (and even then, he was still the taller one). He tolerated your presence and can stand being in the same room as you.

As for Julie, Eddie, Frank, Sally, and Howdy....you unintentionally scared them out of their wits.

For instance, you visited Howdy's bugdega for the first time to get groceries, and he ducked behind the register as you approached. The poor guy sounded like he was in tears as he stuttered that everything was free of charge.

Back then you thought he was having a bad day..but even outside of work, he seldom talked to you out of fear.

How naïve were you..

At least you had Wally, though, considering he's able to have normal chats with you both on the phone and in person. He still kept his joyful tone when speaking to you, and when you left he'd turn around to scold the others for "overreacting".

Honestly, he was growing tired of them treating you this way and not taking his advice. No neighbor deserved to feel so unwelcomed.

You weren't scary at all! He'll prove it!

And now he finally got an idea that he believed would work.

"Say, [y/n]..whatdya think about coming with me to the park?" He suggested. "I'm organizing a little painting lesson, and at the end we're all gonna paint something we like! If everyone's there and sees us getting along, they'll finally see how nice you really are!"

"You think so?" Your ears perked up, a small smile forming on your face as your tail began lightly wagging, thumping against the furniture.

While you haven't done any art since settling into the community, this hangout seemed to be a good place to sharpen your skills and, hopefully, make some friends. If they saw you indulging in a passion, you'll be able to connect with them more.

"Yup! I think it'll work! So are you in or out?"

"I'm in."

"Great! See you in an hour!"

Your smile dropped. "Wait, it's toda-?"

However, you didn't get the chance to finish as you heard the 'click' on the other end, realizing he hung up. You sighed and hung up your phone, too.

The thought of seeing everybody at the park so soon had you feeling anxious all over again, but you tried shaking off your worries, not wanting them to deter you from going. You couldn't disappoint Wally after how hopeful he sounded.

So instead you focused on making lunch for yourself before packing some art supplies together, finding a canvas or sketchbook to bring with you.

And about an hour later, you were fully prepared.

'It'll be fine..Wally's gonna be there..' You told yourself, taking a few deeps breaths, heading out the door with your head held high.

Surely, the neighbors will finally change their mind about you once they see that you shared a similar hobby as them..

Right?

.......

It turns out you were wrong.

As Wally hosted his painting lesson in the park, going over how to paint different figures and scenes step-by-step...most of the gang could barely focus on what he was saying.

Instead, their eyes were anxiously fixated on you as you tried ignoring them and listened to his words. Whenever you made direct eye contact with any of them, they'd quickly look away and shudder, their hands shaking as they pretended to paint or draw.

They kept their canvases close to their chest, as though you were gonna pounce and tear it to shreds if they let their guard down.

Obviously, Wally took notice of this fast and would ask them questions about what he just said, his smile slowly turning into a frown as some stuttered out answers..while others just didn't catch it the first time around.

You only expected this, although you did manage to impress everybody with your scenery of a moonlit sky after accomplishing the final task of painting something you liked.

But it wasn't enough for Wally. They only complimented you because they were scared you'll get angry if they said the wrong thing...he could just tell by their shifty gazes.

They're just pretending.

After everybody eventually left for home, as the sun was going down, you stayed in the park with Wally. He was still sitting motionless on the same flat rock, having already put his supplies away.

You frowned as you approached him, not knowing what's gotten into him lately

Of course this hangout wasn't going to immediately make you everybody's best friend, but you didn't think he'd be this upset.

If anything it should have been you who was upset, though you believed things went quite well considering nobody ran away from you this time around.

Unfortunately, Wally begged to differ, given how he hasn't spoken a word to you since everyone else left.

"Wally?" Crouching down in front of him, you tilted your head. "What's wrong?"

"...I don't get it."

"..look, it's okay-" You went to place a comforting hand on his shoulder, only for him to suddenly look up at you with frustration in his wide eyes. Even his pupils seemed to tremble as he spoke.

"No, it's not okay. I-I..I know they can't help it but..I thought they trusted me, Neighbor. I planned all of this so they could stop being scared of you! And yet...they..." He trailed off, fingers trembling as they curled into his pants. "They're never gonna change...are they?"

"They can. They just need some more time." You tried to reason, yet he shook his head.

"But how much longer will it be until y--?" He started, but quickly stopped upon seeing the flashes of concern in your eyes, shrinking away.

"...until I what, Wally?"

"........"

"Are you...scared that I might leave one day?" You finally connected the dots. "Is that why you're so upset over all of this?"

Given his silence as he looked back down at the ground, that basically confirmed your answer.

Now it all made sense.

"Oh, buddy.." You hugged him close, feeling him flop against you as he rested his head on your fluffy chest. "You don't have to worry about that. It's gonna take a lot more than just a few skittish people to kick me out."

"But..you're so nice...and I don't know why they can't see that.." He mumbled, slowly hugging you back. "I swear I've tried everything-"

"You don't have to do anything more, Wally. I appreciate what you've done, but..you don't need to be stressed for my sake. I'm not going anywhere, okay? I'll even pinky promise it for ya."

After a long silence you felt him nod, and you smiled, relieved that he trusted you.

Soon you let each other go and made that pinky promise, sealing the deal. You could see that lifted a huge burden off his shoulders--one you didn't even realize he was trying to carry this whole time--as his own smile returned.

"C'mon. It's getting late. I'll walk ya back home." You suggesting, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

"Haha..that's usually my job, Neighbor." The blue-haired puppet chuckled as he fixed up his messy pompadour. "But thank you. I'll take up your kind offer!"

[imtrashraccoon]

here’s a drabble idea!

Nightmare sans x dog monster! reader

so the premise is that the dear reader is a dog like doggo, greater dog, lesser dog, etc

and if we want to get REAL specific the dog breed reader is a konoki dog!

Hi! Thank you for submitting this idea!

I was shocked how quickly I managed to think of something for this prompt. I hope you don't mind that I made it a fantasy and soulmate au. I actually haven't written this sort of thing before and I am still buzzing with ideas.

I never heard of a Konoki dog before this and they look super cute! I haven't written this type of character before so I hope you like them. I certainly have fallen in love with them! (I affectionately call them Koko in my notes!)

By the way, I renamed Nightmare (and a few others!) for this to make him a more unique character. There's a note at the bottom for the meanings of their names too.

The Dark Fortress

Nightmare x Kokoni!Dog Monster Reader

Fantasy & Soulmate AU

Word Count: 6, 219

You woke up to the sound of rain softly pattering on your tent. The light was rather dim so you estimated the sun wasn't up just yet. Still, it couldn't hurt to get up and do some quick exercises before your day properly started.

The rain made the air smell good - slightly earthy with a hint of the harsher scent of ozone. The only bad thing was that you didn't like having wet fur, especially when on a mission, since it stuck to your armour and meant your weapon was harder to hang onto.

The scent in the air reminded you of a reoccurring dream that you'd been having your whole life. While the circumstances were different each time, there was always a distinctive smell present. It was earthy and sweet with aromatic undertones similar to liquorice or fennel. It was also slightly spicy or maybe salty was a better description? This smell seemed to belong to someone but you'd never been able to see what they looked like.

Not everyone believed in the concept of soulmates but you couldn't find any other explanation for why you kept dreaming about this one smell. There were instances where a few dogs had been plagued by a particular smell and then ended up finding their soulmate, but this was always in real life and never only in a dream.

With a sigh, you meticulously fastened the straps and buckles that held your armour together. While many of your fellow soldiers preferred full plate, you liked the mobility that light armour provided. This combined with your smaller size and slight frame made you the perfect scout or assassin for the Royal Guard.

You didn't have time this morning to contemplate the possibility of meeting your soulmate. You had a duty to perform and any distractions could put the lives of both you and your comrades in danger.

Your mission was to investigate the dark fortress that had appeared overnight a few months ago in the neighboring Kingdom of Shiftingtails. The kingdom's forces had apparently been completely overrun and destroyed in a matter of days. Word on the conditions inside the country had been scarce but the handful of refugees that had made it out all told harrowing tales of their escape.

Whatever magic that had created the fortress was dangerous. It corrupted the land, killing both plants and animals alike, so that nothing could survive. It was said that it could kill people as well but no one knew exactly how. There were also accounts of the dark horde and their master but no one could decide on what they looked like.

Some claimed that an army of the dead suddenly came to life and raided their homes. Others claimed there were only three skeletons responsible for the destruction. Yet there were other accounts of a single skeleton covered in the dark fortress' corruption with black tendrils. No one wanted to talk about this one any more than they had to though.

You hadn't known what to make of the accounts at first, but the deeper you and your comrades pressed into enemy territory, the more truth they seemed to hold. Thankfully, the Royal Scientist had found a way to counteract the majority of the corruption's effects, so as long as the protective coating on your armour remained intact, you would be safe.

It didn't ease your anxiety though and you knew that your comrades were also suffering from restlessness. It had been days since you had even been in combat, even longer since killing anything, and you just wanted to get this over with.

You weren't particularly bloodthirsty but even you had to admit that you secretly enjoyed the rush that came whenever a person died by your hand. It wasn't something that you went out of your way to do, even though being a soldier often put you in those situations. Everyone knew that while sometimes unavoidable, gaining EXP and especially LV, was a slippery slope to insanity. And so during basic training, it was stressed that it was preferable to incapacitate your foes and only kill as a last resort.

You emerged from your tent and stretched your limbs. It seemed like a few of your fellow soldiers were already up and about, which meant another day of marching was upon you. At least you were within sight of the dark fortress now. It wouldn't be long before you would be able to hear the satisfying sound of your meteor hammer crushing bones and inhale the scent of fresh blood again.

~ ~ /⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\ ~ ~

Breaching the gate had been difficult but not impossible.

There had been a small horde of tall black skeletons but against the heavily armoured likes of your fellow guardsmen, they were soon cut down. While the skeletons had also been heavily armoured and wielded greataxes, a well placed blow was pretty much all it took to fell them. Even you managed to take one down, although its body didn't turn to dust and simply faded away, and you didn't even get any EXP from it.

That was strange but not unusual if they were merely summons and not actual monsters. Still, whoever summoned them must have an immense mana pool, especially if they were also the one who'd created the dark fortress in the first place.

The moment you and your fellow soldiers entered the courtyard, you were suddenly set upon by three assailants. They were fast, and with how easily they could dodge attacks or appear behind you, must have some form of instant teleportation ability.

You were forced to fight back to back with Sir Draco, which meant your ranged attacks were less effective since you had to be mindful of your meteor hammer's arc. Your own mana was limited so you were forced to fend off blows with your trusty dagger, which you normally only used for finishing off your enemies.

The three skeletons looked similar, like they could be cousins, but at the same time they were quite different from each other. They were on a whole other level from the dark hordes earlier and you were starting to worry that this could soon turn hairy.

Greater and Lesser Dog were currently taking on a giant of skeleton who had half his skull caved in, a blood red eyelight in his left socket, and wielded a massive, wicked-looking greataxe. He wore a suit of mismatched armour of various materials and styles that had been pieced together seemingly at random. It looked to be mostly plate and hide armour though.

Captain Undyne and Sir Bunbun were holding off a wiry skeleton, who had what looked like corruption pouring out of his eye sockets, a crimson glowing target floating above his chest, and wielded nothing but a cruel dagger as well as his own magic against them. He wore a form-fitting suit of black leather armour that was reminiscent of what the former Shiftingtails Kingdom's scouts used to wear.

You and Sir Draco were focusing on a shorter skeleton who was constantly switching between bone attacks and trying to stab both of you with a well-polished shortsword. He had red eyelights but the left one also had a ring of blue and he wore a red cuirass with a hood and dusty chainmail over top.

"Fall back!" You heard Captain Undyne shout. "We can't let them separate us!"

You and your comrades began shifting towards the gate in an attempt to keep them from attacking your flanks. Although, you'd only taken a few steps when your nose caught a particularly familiar scent. It was sharp, earthy and yet sweet at the same time - the exact scent from your dreams. But where was it coming from?

You noticed a flicker of red out of the corner of your eye and just managed to dodge yet another strike from the hooded skeleton. He scowled and you bared your teeth in response before he darted out of your reach again. He smelled like smoke and death so it certainly wasn't him.

"Come on, pup. If we don't move now, they'll cut us off from the others," Sir Draco rumbled as he blocked another volley of bone bullets with his shield.

You sniffed the air intently, barely hearing what he'd said. That scent...they were here somewhere... Your soulmate was here!

Without really thinking, you darted off in the direction that you were certain the scent was coming from, disregarding the fact that you were also running away from your comrades. You just managed to dodge a bone bullet the hooded skeleton summoned, although it did graze your side. You could hear Undyne shouting at you to return but you didn't listen and kept running. It seemed like no one was actually chasing after you but you could still hear the clash of weapons at the gate, so maybe your comrades had kept them occupied?

The scent was coming from further inside the fortress and only grew stronger the further you ventured, until you managed to slip into a dark building and close the door behind you.

Your paws were great at muffling your footsteps and thanks to your nose, you knew that you were close to the source of the scent. You stepped cautiously around furniture and through passageways until you entered the largest library you'd ever seen.

There was light here, from various lanterns and candles peppered throughout the room, which you were grateful for since you couldn't really see in the dark, although you couldn't help but feel uneasy. You slipped between bookshelves and your ears twitched as you strained to hear the slightest sound. Other than the clinking of the length of chain in your paws and that of your own armour, everything seemed quiet.

Too quiet.

The scent was everywhere and you were starting to have a hard time pinpointing which direction to keep moving in. The fur on the back of your neck suddenly stood on end and you quickly turned, only to come face to face with another skeleton.

He was covered in corruption and four tendrils undulated restlessly behind his back. He wore no armour but underneath the black ooze he seemed to be wearing fancy clothing. He had a gold circlet on his skull and a single cyan eyelight in his left eye socket, as his right was covered by the ooze.

You had barely registered his appearance when he lashed out with his tentacles, slamming you against a nearby bookshelf. You let out a yelp from the impact and heard your meteor hammer clatter to the ground as you lost your grip on the chain.

"Who let a mutt into my home?" the skeleton hissed.

You squirmed but your attempts to escape only caused his tendrils to coil tighter around your body, until it was difficult to breathe.

He drew closer until you were only a few inches apart and narrowed his good eye socket at you. "Are you even a soldier?"

Your eyes widened as it occurred to you that the smell that had haunted you for years was from him. He was your soulmate. Him...the one who'd overthrown an entire country singlehandedly was your one and only.

You pawed at the tendrils around your body. "You're... You're the one..." you managed to gasp.

His smile widened and he let out an amused chuckle. "I'm what? I assure you that whatever you're about to say, I've heard it all before." He let out a sigh and loosened the grasp his tentacles had on you ever so slightly. "But I suppose I can humour you a little bit..."

You couldn't help but cough the moment you could breath properly again. After taking in several lungfuls of air, you looked up at him before trying to explain.

"You're the one I've been dreaming about all my life. My soulmate..."

He stared at you for what felt like an eternity but in reality was probably only a minute. He raised his bonebrows slightly but otherwise showed no further reaction to this revelation.

"Well... That's actually a new one." He chuckled and stepped back a bit but noticeably didn't let go of you. "My apologies, it seems I underestimated you slightly. You're amusing at the very least..."

You huffed and crossed your arms. "I'm serious! I've been looking for so long and now I've actually found you."

He rolled his eyelight before giving you an odd look. "I don't believe you. I don't have a soulmate," he muttered.

"Of course you do! I wouldn't have sought you out if we weren't meant to be together!"

"It's not possible, alright?"

"But-"

His tendrils suddenly constricted once more, although your ability to breath wasn't as impeded this time. You couldn't possibly break out of his hold now and you were all but forced to stay still.

"I mean it," he growled. "Now, I'm going to ask you some questions and you're going to tell me the truth, understand?"

"Yeah, okay. Just, not so tight please?"

He pointedly ignored your request as if you hadn't said anything at all. "Why are you actually here?"

"My comrades and I were ordered to investigate this place and if possible, take down the source of the corruption. Although, it seems that's you, isn't it?"

"Yes, I am. My name is Lord Donovan, the new ruler of this land." There was a twinge of pride in his voice and he puffed out his ribcage slightly. "Where are your comrades?"

You didn't like how ominous his tone sounded but there was no reason to lie to him. "They're probably still fighting your men at the gate, at least they were before I caught your scent and sought you out."

He gave you an incredulous look. "You broke rank on the off chance that I was your so called soulmate? What a foolish thing to do, almost as foolish as coming here in the first place."

You wrinkled your nose and let out a frustrated huff. "You are my soulmate!" you growled. "How many times do I have to tell you that before it gets through your thick skull?!"

He abruptly yanked you closer until your foreheads were nearly touching, but so that he was leering down at you. "Listen well, mutt. I am not your soulmate. I am an entity of pure hatred and spite. I am incapable of love or any remotely positive feeling for that matter."

"S-surely there's a way to find out?" you whimpered.

He sighed and ran his hand over his face. "Yes, there is a divination ritual that can be performed, but such a thing takes time, something you don't have right now."

You squirmed in his grip. "I don't need some fancy ritual to prove that you're wrong. If you just, let me go for a moment, I'll show you."

He eyed you warily before taking a glance around the library. "Fine, but don't try anything. I would prefer if you didn't ruin any of these tomes with your useless dust."

You gave him a curt nod, although the casual threat wasn't lost on you. "Same goes for you."

He released his tendrils, dropping you unceremoniously to the ground but you managed to land your feet. After straightening your armour and retrieving the weapon you'd dropped earlier, you turned back to him again.

Lord Donovan stood with arms crossed and a critical expression on his face. "I'm surprised that you would risk turning your back on an enemy," he commented.

You chuckled, "Well, you just said that you didn't want to ruin these books."

He narrowed his eye socket. "I could've lied..."

You snorted but chose not to needle him further. Instead, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes before pressing a paw against your chestplate.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm baring my soul to you. What does it look like?" you retorted.

You could feel him judging you but he made no move to interrupt. "You're a fool," he finally stated.

You ignored him and drew your soul out, letting the upside down white heart float lazily in your palm. It wasn't perfect like it had once been but the faint cracks spoke of the many battles you'd survived to get to this point. You could even see your stats, which was only further proof of your strength and the deeds you'd committed for it.

When you met his gaze again, you noticed that he looked a bit uncomfortable. His permanent grin had fallen and he was doing his best not to look at your soul directly. He actually reminded you a little of a bashful child at the moment.

"How does this," he vaguely gestured at you, "actually prove anything?"

You had to grit your teeth to keep from laughing at him. Had he never been taught how these things worked? Even an eight year old could understand the significance of baring your soul to your fated.

"The frequency of our souls are the same and that means we are soulmates," you responded.

He scoffed at that. "I'm not showing you my soul."

"Come on... If you'll just do this one thing, you'll know that I'm right!"

He frowned and shook his skull.

"Please, I'm not trying to trick you..." When he made no move to respond, you sighed and held out your paws. "I understand that you don't trust me; I probably wouldn't either if I was in your position. You can hold my hands if you want, I promise I won't hurt you."

He eyed them for a moment. "Fine...but on one condition..."

You nodded vigorously, "Of course!"

"If you really want to see my soul, then I can't have you leave, at least not alive... Are you actually willing to give up everything, including your friends and family, on something as improbable as being soulmates?"

"With all due respect, I am a soldier. I live each day as if it were my last, as does my family. When I was ordered to come here, I did so knowing that I likely wouldn't return and if this is the price I must pay to find my soulmate, then I am willing."

He seemed to consider your words for a moment before meeting your eyes again. His cyan eyelight flickered for a moment before a new look crossed his face. It almost seemed like one of respect but you couldn't entirely be sure.

"Very well then, if you're certain you won't live to regret it."

He hesitated for a moment but when you didn't pull away, he stepped closer and coiled two of his tendrils around your wrists. His grip was firm but surprisingly gentle and he lifted your paws over your head, so there was no way for you to attack him. In this position, your height discrepancy was much more obvious and you felt rather small next to him.

You felt completely exposed like this, even though you were still wearing your armour. Having your soul floating freely with no way to shield it from anyone else's eyes was honestly a little terrifying. He could strike you down in an instant and there wouldn't be anything you could do about it.

Lord Donovan brought his hand to his ribcage, mimicking the gesture you had made earlier. He focused for a second before pulling his own soul from his body. It wasn't shaped anything like you'd expected, instead it was more oblong than heart-shaped, much like the cross section of an apple. It was jet black with a cyan flare around the edges and seemed like it too was coated in corruption like the rest of his body.

You couldn't help but find his soul oddly beautiful but you kept your comments to yourself for a moment. Instead, you watched him calmly for what he'd do next.

He seemed to be contemplating something before gingerly bringing his soul closer to your own. You were thankful that he didn't let them touch, instead holding it a few inches away.

You waited with baited breath.

At first, your souls simply floated there, slowly thrumming with latent mana.

Suddenly you felt an intense pulse pass through your soul.

It was unlike anything you'd ever felt before, although slightly similar to the high that you'd experienced a few times when your LV increased, except way better. There was a rush of power but also a strong euphoric feeling that made all your uneasiness ebb away.

Donovan seemed utterly stunned. His cyan eyelight had shrunk down at least two sizes and he stood stock still like a statue.

"You felt that?" you whispered, although you couldn't keep yourself from grinning like a maniac.

He seemed completely at a loss for words and it took him a moment to even register that you'd asked a question at all. "I... Yes...I felt that..."

"Do you believe me now?"

"You were right about the frequency being the same..." He finally tore his gaze away from your souls and gave you an intense look. "You can't leave me."

You chuckled and tried to move your arms, only to remember that he still had you restrained. "A deal's a deal. I saw your soul and we're soulmates now; seems fair to me."

"Indeed..." he murmured, before guiding his soul back into his ribcage. You noticed that he hesitated to do the same for you.

You chuckled softly at his apparent awkwardness. "I can do it myself if you'd rather not, you'll just have to let me go first."

"No, it's fine..." He took great care not to graze your soul with his claws as he returned it to it's proper place in your chest. His movements were rather stiff though, almost like he was handling fine china and was afraid of smashing it.

His hand lingered for a moment, as if he was debating if he should actually touch you or not, before pulling away. "Forgive me...but this is a lot to take in at the moment. I never thought-" He cut himself off and changed the subject. "I never even asked for your name..."

You smiled and told him your name as his tendrils around your arms loosened, allowing you to lower them back to your sides, but not actually letting go just yet. The tips wound softly through your fingers like they were curious or maybe they just wanted to hold you like a lover might.

"I suppose there is still the matter of your former comrades." He looked off in the direction you thought the gate was in before asking a question. "How would you prefer I deal with them?"

You felt your heartbeat quicken. "I'd prefer they leave with their lives, but knowing Captain Undyne, she wouldn't give up until every one of her men got out safely."

"That poses a problem," he hummed and tapped his mandible thoughtfully. "As my own won't quit until they eliminate all resistance."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Maybe I could talk to my comrades and convince them to leave?"

"No." His expression darkened and he turned back to you. "They won't leave if they see that you're alive."

"So what do we do?"

He thought for a moment before turning to leave the library, tugging you along with his tentacles. "I have an idea, come with me."

You let out a small yip as you nearly stumbled over your own hind feet while trying to follow him. He spared you a glance over his shoulder but kept quickly moving through the dark passageways. He did mercifully let go of one of your arms so you would have a bit more balance though.

He led you into a room that, from the shelves of tonics and the racks of drying herbs, reminded you of an apothecary. The various herbs and ingredients all melded together into a slightly musty smell that you weren't fond of.

Donovan pulled a specific vial down from the shelf and brought it over to the work bench. You walked over and leaned against it to see what he was doing. After adding a few ingredients and swirling it together, he turned back to you.

"I need you to trust me..." He trailed off and glanced away before muttering, "Not that I've done anything to deserve your trust so far..."

You gave him a gentle smile and stepped closer to put your paw on his arm. He inadvertently jumped at the contact but didn't pull away.

"Of course I trust you. Whatever your plan is, I'll go along with it."

His bonebrows furrowed and he lightly stroked the fur on the side of your face with his claws. "Can I have your dagger?"

"I'm surprised you even noticed I had one," you chuckled as you drew the blade from its sheath and held it out to him.

He hummed and took it from your grasp. "I think you'll find that there isn't much that escapes my attention." He eyed the sharp edge for a moment before glancing back at you. "How attached are you to this?"

You frowned slightly. Your dagger wasn't too special to the naked eye but it had served you well ever since you'd been gifted it after your first successful mission. Even though it wasn't your primary weapon, any of your comrades would recognize it as yours if they saw it.

"It's just a dagger," you answered. "It's a small sacrifice to be with you forever."

He watched you for a moment before nodding. "Very well. This will hurt, but I'm only going to do what's necessary for you to be free of them."

You felt his tendrils coil around your body, cradling and holding you in place. He caressed your face and seemed to study your eyes for a second longer. You took a steadying breath and nodded.

And then he ran you through with the dagger.

You should've found something to bite down on before agreeing to this but your scream of pain was cut off when he abruptly yanked you into a kiss. It was a rough kiss and, if he wasn't holding you in place, you might've fallen over from the forcefulness.

He pulled away quickly and pressed the vial to your lips. It had a harsh taste but you managed to get it down without choking. Almost immediately, you felt an odd warmth flood your body and your eyelids began to grow heavy.

Lord Donovan laid you down on a bed that hadn't been in the room and you wondered if he'd brought you somewhere else. You knew he'd just inflicted what would normally be a mortal wound but somehow your body wasn't falling to pieces. If it weren't for the pain and sudden exhaustion, you probably could've run a mile. Whatever was in that tonic was obviously far stronger than any healing potion you'd ever been able to afford.

Your gaze met his own and when you held eye contact, he seemed relieved. He still held your dagger but it was thoroughly coated in what you instinctively knew was your own dust so that not even the handle was spared. He then took it in two of his tendrils and snapped the blade in half, as if it were nothing but a twig and not hardened steel.

Your shocked expression must've been concerning as he frowned and moved closer to you again. He combed his claws through the fur between your ears in a comforting manner.

"I'm sorry, but this needs to be as convincing as possible if they are to leave and not return in some foolhardy attempt to rescue you."

You swallowed thickly and managed to nod.

"Rest now, I will deal with them myself. You have my word that they won't be unnecessarily harmed."

You were out before he even left the room.

~ ~ /⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\ ~ ~

You awoke to the sound of several unknown voices. There was a loud voice that spoke the most and the fastest, a softer and more raspy voice that occasionally answered the first's questions, and then there was a third much deeper voice who only spoke in clipped one word answers. They immediately fell quiet as soon as they realized that you were awake.

When you risked cracking open your eyes, you came face to face with one of the skeletons from earlier, specifically the one that had corruption leaking from his eye sockets. His skull took up most of your field of view but you could just barely make out the other two skeletons near the doorway.

"well well, look who's finally awake~" he teased.

You narrowed your eyes at him. "I suppose so. Now can you back up a bit?"

He smirked but mercifully stepped away from the bed so you could sit up. Your armour had been removed at some point although you were still wearing your tunic. You would likely need new gear after Donovan stabbed you anyways, but you didn't like being in the same room as three very dangerous people while unprotected.

There was still some pain but you seemed perfectly fine otherwise. Maybe later you'd have to check where the wound had been to see how it had healed. You could feel that a bandage had been wrapped around your abdomen but that was all that seemed to have happened.

"so, word is you and the boss are thick as thieves all of the sudden..."

You glanced up at him sharply. There was no point in denying it but should you really tell them why he'd spared your life?

He chuckled and glanced over at the other two, who seemed like they could care less. "we've just been dying to meet you, haven't we?"

The large skeleton huffed and the hooded one merely rolled his eyelights.

He didn't seem phased by their lackluster enthusiasm and soon turned back to you again. "you got a name then, cutie?" he asked way too sweetly.

You raised your head and squared your shoulders before introducing yourself.

"aw, it suits you!" He grinned, although it was a tad too wide. "i suppose introductions are in order then..."

"the big guy goes by maul," he said and pointed him out to you. He bent down to whisper in your ear, "he doesn't talk much, but between you and me, it's rumoured that he used to be the headsman during the coup in the horrur kingdom."

You believed it. The way you'd seen him swing that greataxe was proof enough of his strength. You were curious how he got the head wound if he was just the executor, but you weren't about to ask.

Maul's single red eyelight observed you coolly before he nodded slightly. At least he didn't seem like he wanted to tear you apart right away.

"mr. broody goes by reven." He directed your attention to the skeleton in question before repeating what he'd done earlier. "pretty sure he still wears his old paladin armour, despite breaking his oath after his brother got dusted. he's the one responsible for the crimson stabbings, didn't you know?"

You pulled the sheets slightly closer and swallowed nervously. You remembered how afraid everyone had been during that time and how at a loss your superiors had been. The murders had gone on for years before just stopping without any conclusion being reached.

Reven narrowed his eye sockets suspiciously but he seemed to like the effect that his supposed reputation had on you.

"it's actually kinda impressive you held him off for as long as you did back there~"

Reven scowled at his loud mouthed compatriot's words and crossed his arms. You certainly didn't feel proud of yourself and if it wasn't for Sir Draco, you knew he would've overwhelmed you quickly.

Trying to distract yourself, you turned to the last unnamed skeleton in the room, who was still a bit to close for your comfort. "And who are you?" you asked.

"You can call me Dirk, or anything else you feel partial to~" He practically beamed at the revelation that you were even remotely interested in his backstory. "I used to run with some brigands and we made a decent killing for a while. Although, I was always meant for something more than that boring life so I killed them instead."

You didn't know what you had been expecting but how flippant he was about committing murder was more than a little unsettling. You really shouldn't have been so surprised though.

"Your armour doesn't belong to you, does it?" you asked carefully.

"oh yeah." He grinned before adding, "i stabbed a guy for it!"

You ran a hand down your face and sighed. "Of course, why did I think you would've done anything otherwise?"

In an effort to change the subject, you glanced at the others and asked a different question. "What happened to...my companions?"

Neither Maul nor Reven seemed interested in answering although the latter suppressed a small chuckle.

Dirk pulled a face and shook his skull. "they ran like cowards," he muttered.

You frowned. "That doesn't sound quite right. Are you sure?"

"well... the fish lady got pretty mad when the boss revealed that you were 'dead'..." He made finger quotes and chuckled. "she actually tried to fight him but he taught her a lesson real quick."

Reven chuckled as well. "she had to be hauled away by the rest of them..." he muttered under his breath.

You felt your heart drop. Donovan had promised that he wouldn't kill them, but you still couldn't help feeling concerned. What if she succumbed to her injuries before getting to safety?

"hey."

You glanced over at Dirk and immediately noticed that his permanent grin had fallen slightly.

"how do we know that you didn't just trick the boss into thinking you two are... what's it called?" he paused for emphasis before continuing, "soulmates, or some other dumb crap?"

He took a step closer to the bed and you inadvertently tried to back away from him. Seeing movement out of the corner of your eye, you noticed that the other two had seemed to take interest as well. Maul stayed by the door, although his grin widened in an unsettling way and he crossed his arms. Reven narrowed his eye sockets and took a few steps closer.

"Of course not! I wouldn't-"

Your protest was cut off when Donovan suddenly materialized on your other side. The boys paused and turned to look at him, although at first he said nothing and shot each of them a look of displeasure. Without saying a word, he wrapped your body up in a few of his tendrils and pulled you closer to him.

"If any of you so much as look at my soulmate wrong, I will not hesitate to strip your souls from your miserable bodies and torment you for eternity," he growled quietly.

You felt a shiver run down your spine but his threat seemed to have an effect on the boys. Maul glanced away and Reven seemed to visibly deflate. Dirk seemed to grow uncomfortable but outwardly didn't appear intimidated.

Donovan eyed each of them for several long seconds before he turned to you and seemed to visibly relax. He gave you what was supposed to be a comforting smile but it still looked a little scary on him.

"I didn't go for a killing blow but holding back is a little difficult for me. She'll probably just lose an eye if treated properly," he stated. His tone came across as pretty ominous but you did feel some relief that he'd at least attempted to keep his word.

"Thank you, I appreciate that you still tried."

~ ~ /⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\ ~ ~

Later, once you were properly healed, Dirk approached you in the common area while you were attempting to salvage what you could from your old armour. You inadvertently tensed up but he flashed you a smile that was probably supposed to look friendly.

"so, i've been thinking," he started to say.

You raised an eyebrow. "That's worrying," you responded with an awkward laugh.

Across the room, you heard Reven snicker but he didn't bother trying to join in.

Dirk's smile grew wider. "heh... anyways, each of us has a place on the team. maul is the muscle, reven is good with both melee and ranged fighting, and i'm the assassin but i dabble in ranged attacks too. so, what do you do?"

You took a moment to think it over. You wanted to get along with them and if proving yourself a competent teammate would help, you were determined to do your best.

"Well, I'm generally a forward scout but I'm more than capable of holding my own in melee combat."

Dirk nodded, "fun! i guess we'll have to eventually come up with a nickname for you." He held out his hand and tilted his skull all the while smirking at you. "welcome to the dark fortress."

You grasped his hand and smiled. Maybe you'd like being here a lot more than you originally thought.

Notes:

A meteor hammer is kind of like a flail. It is a weapon with one or two weights attached to a length of chain. It may be impractical, but I had a distinct mental picture of MC swinging it around that I loved.

Donovan is an Irish name and means dark warrior.

Maul is actually named after the weapon of the same name (although the verb is kinda fitting too!).

Reven is short for revenant and a nod to one of the coolest characters in Star Wars (Darth Revan).

Dirk is named for a type of dagger.

Did you catch what kingdom was taken over by Donovan and his gang? I had a hard time coming up with one that made sense so Storyshift it was. In this world, each AU is its own kingdom, meaning pretty much every major AU can and probably does exist somewhere or somehow.

[pianokantzart]

By The Numbers (Pt. 3/END)

Luigi hoped to use one of his own special talents to give the Super Mario Bros. Plumbing company the leg-up it needed to succeed. But as usual, for all his good intentions, the younger of The Mario Brothers finds himself in over his head. Final part of a three part story!

Part one: X Part two: X

Also available on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52624285/chapters/134094502

______________

“Luigi, what’s going on?” Mario’s tone was stern, his eyes flicking between the men surrounding his brother as he stood with hands clenched into ready fists. He was hatless, a pair of overalls thrown over his pajamas, one of his shoes left untied in his apparent rush to get dressed. Luigi was slow to answer. He knew that even if he didn’t look so ragged, caught in the middle of four strangers, his brother had already guessed he was in danger. Luigi’s poker face only lasted as long as the card game, in all other instances he couldn’t lie to save his life… or anyone else’s. Before he could say anything, he felt a burly arm envelop his shoulders and draw him close, holding him firm while the other three men formed a barrier between him and his brother.

“Oh… Luigi is just out for a little night on the town,” Warren said, carefully enunciating the name as he spoke it for the first time, “What’s it to you?”

Through the dark Luigi could see how his brother’s chest rose and fell– a tell-tale sign that his emotions were getting to him, but before a fist could be thrown he gathered his breath, released it with an audible exhale, and buried his hands into his pockets in a noble effort to hold himself back. “Look, I don’t know who you are, but I’ve already called the cops.” Mario pulled a familiar touchscreen phone from his overalls and waved it threateningly. “Let my brother go, and we won’t press any charges.”

This seemed to cause a bit of a stir amongst Luigi’s captors. The nameless three exchanged glances, and once they had all silently indicated to each other they did not know what to do, they turned to Warren for direction.

Warren, much to Luigi’s distress, tightened his hold on him, his arm sliding subtly from Luigi's shoulders to around his neck.

“I think you’re bluffing,” was the firm reply. “What do you say to that?” Mario said nothing. He returned the phone to his pocket, squared his shoulders, and started walking closer at an even, determined pace.

Warren’s three underlings moved in to intercept, but as Luigi had witnessed so many times before, they were blindsided by the amount of fight that was contained in someone who looked so small and innocuous. Mario knew exactly how to leverage both his weight and size, what angle to jump at to connect skull to jaw, and how high to jump in order to lay a sturdy kick into someone's throat. He was experienced in dodging blows from opponents twice his size, and was fast as he was strong.

But it was still three against one. Going up against those odds was difficult, getting out of them unscathed was impossible. For every blow Mario delivered and dodged, something connected and sent him reeling. Blows compounded, and despite the damage he dealt Mario was clearly having a harder and harder time getting back up.

“Don’t!” Luigi yelled, tears pooling in his eyes and trickling down his cheeks. He struggled to wrench free from Warren’s grip, and for his efforts he heard a light “click,” and finally got a decent look at the knife… a folding knife with a needle-point blade. 

“That’s enough, all of you!” Warren commanded, keeping the weapon firmly pressed against Luigi’s jaw. It took a few seconds for the thugs to untangle themselves from the fight and back down, during which Warren leaned close to Luigi’s ear, and whispered instructions in a tone that made the plumber’s blood run cold.

“I suggest you talk your brother down, before we do something you might regret.”

Struggling to regather his breath, Luigi looked over the scene and calculated the odds. Through the dim light he compared the scattered wounds of his attackers to the ones on his brother. Mario was still standing, but was leaning slightly under a bruised rib, his breaths audible through a face that was already beginning to swell. Three against one. The cards were not in his favor. But the odds never mattered to Mario. His hands remained clenched as he crouched back into a fighting stance and stared Warren down, the blade the larger man held against Luigi’s throat the one thing holding him back.

“Mario! Just go!” Luigi pleaded.

“Lu.” Mario’s gaze softened as it shifted to his brother. “It’s gonna be okay, I’m–” “You’re gonna get us both killed!” Luigi interrupted frantically. “Don’t you get it? I don’t want you here! I don’t want you trying to save me!”

His older brother looked startled at this. A look of hurt and confusion creased his face, black and blue and speckled with blood. Luigi felt his stomach twist with regret, but he far preferred that over watching Mario continue to test how much punishment his body could take. Luigi knew that tonight was a culmination of his own weakness. He was not going to let him keep paying the price for that.

“Everything was fine until you showed up.” Luigi spoke quietly as he doubled down with a cracking voice and tears flowing freely. “I don’t need you. The sooner you’re gone, the safer I’ll be. What part of that don’t you understand?”

Mario’s surprised look turned thoughtful as his fists unclenched, and he crossed his arms irresolutely in front of his chest. He carefully looked around, gaze shifting from the three goons, to Warren, to the knife, to Luigi, where his gaze lingered for a long while. As Luigi met his eyes, an unspoken exchange brought him to the unsettling conclusion that no matter what he said, Mario wouldn’t leave– or more, couldn’t leave. He couldn’t turn his back on him. He was too frightened about what might happen. Mario further softened his body language, raising his palms and lowering his head. “Okay, okay… just tell me what you guys want.”

“Whatever happened to having called the cops?” one of the goons mumbled, rubbing at his bruised jaw and wiping away the blood in the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah, you called my bluff on that one.” Mario said, forcing a strained chuckle. “Look, I don’t know what you’re trying to get out of my brother, but we can figure something out.”

“One moment you’re trying to crack open skulls, the next you think you’re some sort of master negotiator,” Warren muttered. He pressed the blade a little harder against Luigi’s jaw, eliciting a pained squeak and a small trickle of crimson. Mario stiffened, his bruised eyes widening.

“Please! I-... What do I need to do to fix this?”

Warren chewed his lip thoughtfully. After giving each of his men a quick glance, he made an offer while clicking his knife closed to his sincerity. “I’ll tell you one thing you can do: hold still. Things are about to get very unpleasant for you, but if you prove you can control yourself, we’ll give your brother here another chance to make things right.”

Mario didn’t know what that meant, he was afraid to ask, but knowing what was at stake he simply nodded. Luigi didn’t understand either, but felt a horrible dread weighing down on him as Warren’s underlings approached Mario one by one. The first reared back, taking his time in aiming his fist at Mario’s temple. It connected without resistance with a gut-churning crack. Mario let out a grunt of pain and swayed under the impact, but otherwise didn’t move. “Mario!” Luigi shouted. Through vision blurred with tears, he saw his sibling smiling up at him. “See?” Mario muttered, blinking away the darkness that danced at the corner of his vision, “I can control myself.” No sooner had he said this, the second thug delivered a blow of his own. In a roundhouse kick that looked straight out of a corny action movie, he knocked Mario’s legs out from under him. Mario slowly and carefully stood back up, but made no further signs of resistance.

The third thug, who had received the worst injuries of his companions, hung back as the other two tested whether or not their opponent would stay true to his word. Seeing Mario remain still despite the attacks, he held a hand out toward Warren who– to Luigi’s horror– handed him the switchblade, which the thug calmly flicked open while approaching his brother. Luigi wanted to scream, call out a warning, do something other than just stand there, but found himself frozen in place save for his quivering limbs and knotted stomach, until a flicker of coherent thought in the back of his mind pointed out that Warren’s grip on him had loosened. He wasn’t completely free, the arm was still wrapped around his neck, but he had a little bit of wriggle room…

___ “Push off with your back leg and twist your hips like you’re swinging a home run.” His father explained, adjusting Luigi’s posture. The ten year old shifted his footing as directed, taking care to keep his thumb outside his fist, between his first and second knuckles on his index and middle finger. “Keep your elbow in. Don’t aim at the head, but behind it.” His father continued as he extended a large calloused hand, nearly as big as Luigi’s head, “Pretend my hand is the face of someone that… um… someone trying to hurt your brother!” Luigi crafted the scenario in his mind, tightening his fist, working himself up. “That’s it. Now swing! Hard as you can!” ___

Luigi’s whole body twisted and his arm shot out in one short, controlled action. He felt his knuckles crack across Warren’s face and the cartilage of the large man’s nose snap. There was a tiny yelp of shock, Warren releasing Luigi to clutch his bleeding face with both hands. Everyone’s attention was captured, the whole scene paused in astonishment. Luigi didn’t waste a single second as he dashed down the alley, snatching up his sibling, practically throwing him ahead in his desperation.

“Mario! Run!”

The command was unnecessary. They fell into sync as they sped away. They could hear manic footsteps and shouts behind them as their pursuers regrouped and gave chase, but if there was anything Mario was better at than fighting, it was running, and if there was any skill in which Luigi surpassed his brother, it was the art of escape.

Together they bounded over chain link fences, across brick walls and fire escapes, rounding sharp corners and leapfrogging over garbage cans, keeping side-by-side until any sign of their pursuers was left far behind, lost completely in the loud bustle of the New York streets as dawn finally broke over the city.

Mario and Luigi took refuge in a corner store across the street from their home. Harry, a friend of theirs, ran the place from six in the morning until two p.m, and played tennis with them on weekends. He was just then turning the sign from “closed” to “open” when he saw Mario and Luigi approach, Mario holding on to Luigi's shoulders for stability.

They claimed they were mugged. The full story didn’t feel worth delving into. Harry considered calling the police, but Mario and Luigi turned down the idea. Given that their attackers hadn’t successfully stolen anything, and Mario had dealt out a fair amount of damage himself, they doubted anything useful could come of it.

They took Harry’s suggestion to call an ambulance into a bit more consideration. Mario looked himself over carefully, and after determining that no bones were broken or organs ruptured, turned down that idea as well. They did, however, happily accept the offer of ice, bandages, and access to the storage room, where they could get themselves cleaned up before heading home.

Soon, Luigi was sitting by his brother on a pallet of paper towels with a first aid kit open on his lap. He decided to start with Mario’s raw knuckles, having decided to wait until after the ice brought down the swelling in his face before he tended to the worst of the damage.

“So, what are we going to tell the family?” Luigi asked after he and his brother had finally settled. “Same thing we told Harry.” Mario said, wincing a little as his brother brushed gravel out of his injured knuckles and dabbed them with antiseptic, “We’ll tell them we got a sugar craving around midnight, decided to take a walk to the nearby 24/7 pancake house, and got mugged along the way.”

“Why would I go to a pancake house in my Sunday best?” “Oh, I don’t know!” Mario snapped, pulling the ice away from his face in exasperation. “What, you want me to tell them that you decided to sneak out and pretend to be Stu Ungar for a night?”

Luigi shrugged, barely even blinking when his brother raised his voice at him, finding it rather comforting that he still had that fire in him regardless of his injuries. Even so, Mario looked regretful, letting out a heavy sigh and pressing the ice back against his face. “No way. They’d never let you hear the end of it.”

Luigi gave a small nod, less of agreement and more of numb acceptance. He rifled through the package of adhesive bandages, trying to find the little H-shaped one designed for knuckles. Finding none, he decided to settle with simple gauze and bandage tape. “Mario, I’m so sorry,” he whispered as he finished tying off his brother’s hands. “Heh, not as sorry as you’re gonna be when Nonno gets wind of this. For a guy who needs a walker he sure can swing that thing, and he doesn't miss!” “Not about that. I mean…” Luigi swallowed back the tears building in his throat. “...I-I mean about what I said back there. The whole ‘I don’t need you’ thing.” “Oh that!” Mario let out a good natured laugh and shook his head. “Don’t even mention it Lu, you were just trying to keep me safe.”

“But I didn’t… I mean I should’ve…” Luigi stuttered and trailed off as he felt the tears continue to choke him, creating a painful lump and cutting off his words. That wasn’t all he was sorry for. It wasn’t even the beginning. He didn’t mean to put his brother in that position, make him feel like he had to turn himself into a punching bag. He didn’t mean to nearly get him stabbed... maybe even killed. He didn’t mean to keep getting lost, keep getting cornered, keep attracting trouble, keep forcing his Mario into these sorts of situations. He couldn’t help but wonder what was wrong with him. “Hey.” Mario’s voice pulled Luigi from his thoughts. He felt his brother gently take hold of his wrist, and lift his trembling hand into the air. “That was a pretty good left hook back there.”

Luigi looked at his own hand as Mario brought it up to the light. It was still marked with Warren’s nose blood, smeared across his knuckles in an ugly brown stain. He felt a glimmer of pride then, seeing the evidence of his little moment of heroism, though he wasn’t so proud that he wasn’t unnerved by the literal blood on his hands.

Using an antiseptic wipe to wash his hand clean, Luigi decided to switch subjects and ask a question that had been on the tip of his tongue ever since Mario first swooped in to rescue him. “How’d you know where to find me?”

“Well, you weren’t too far from the casino you kept researching in your internet search history.” Mario smugly pulled the phone from his overall pocket– miraculously undamaged. “I just followed the address, and then followed my gut, until eventually I found you. Not a moment too soon, from the looks of things.”

Luigi smiled and rubbed the back of his neck. “Heh, I just wish you’d found me sooner. The night would've gone a lot better if you picked me up right after I won all that mon-” he froze mid sentence, his eyes widening in sudden recollection. The money! He couldn’t believe he almost forgot about the money! “Hold on! I want to show you something.” Mario was confused, but didn’t protest as Luigi took the phone from his hands. Eagerly he exited the internet page, switched to his bank app, and was relieved to see that despite losing his debit card and nearly getting robbed at knifepoint, the total in his checking account was still the same as it had been when he’d first left the poker table and deposited his earnings. “What’s that big grin about?” Mario asked, noticing his brother's change of demeanor. Luigi handed the phone back to Mario, and took no small amount of delight in watching his expressions disbelief and elation.

“Luigi! Is this for real!? I swear if you’re pulling my leg-”

“The average cost of starting a plumbing business is around twenty grand, right?” Luigi interrupted, chuckling proudly. “Twenty five thousand should cover it.”

Saying the number out loud, a part Luigi couldn’t help but feel perplexed. It had seemed an exorbitant amount at the poker table– no doubt it was an incredible sum to win in one night– but it didn’t seem like a number worth being threatened the way he had, not by a guy who appeared as well off as Warren. Luigi suspected either Warren’s issues were based more in pride than money, or he had been pigeonholed as a far more prolific and wealthy gambler than he actually was. Someone worth robbing. In any case, they were 25k richer, and Mario was over the moon.

“We- we can get a van! With a logo and a custom paint job!” he declared, struggling to keep from shouting as he wrapped an arm around his brother, “We can restock our tools, get the name trademarked! Get the permits and a website and- ah, ow!” Too much excitement. Mario’s aching skull began to throb and his split lip that had just started to heal was bleeding again. Luigi tenderly unwound himself from his brother’s hug, settled him back down, and began dabbing at the bloody lip with a cotton ball.

“First let’s see how much the doctor bills are going to cost.” Luigi remarked with no small amount of concern, “you may feel well enough to avoid an ambulance, but I’m not convinced you didn’t crack a cheek bone or something, and we’re no longer insured...”

“We’ll be fine. We’ve got our life savings on top of your winnings!” Mario let out another hearty laugh, still high on excitement despite the surge of pain, “In fact, bet if we… well… nah. It’s stupid.” “Stupid? No way.” Luigi pulled out another antiseptic wipe, waiting for Mario to hold still enough for him to tend to a particularly ruddy scrape on his cheek. “Couldn’t be any stupider than sneaking out to play poker. What’s the plan?” “It’s not a plan so much as it is an idea.” “...And? What’s the idea?”

Mario winced as his younger brother finally succeeded in laying the stinging cloth against his injured face, but quickly bounced back into a smile.

“Say Lu…” he said, eyes shining with excitement, “how do you feel about making a TV commercial?”

[ducktracy]

You ever think about how daffy looks in 'Daffy Duck & Egghead'

MOST CERTAINLY!!!! i drew him a few times with that design eons ago

there are a handful of shorts that when i first discovered them i immediately hooked onto them and basically made them my whole personality. i posted every single thing there was i could post about those shorts in the span of days (and now it haunts me 5 years later because i didn't know what i was talking about then and i'm like "well i posted everything i could about that short which sucks because now i just want to say the same things but with the articulation i have now >:("). Book Revue was a big one and this one was another. i definitely feel there was a time where i was always talking about his design here... this was my icon on Twitter for awhile

he's so cute. i see why it didn't stay and i'm a bit glad it didn't (though i much prefer it to his design in Daffy Duck in Hollywood, extremely funny how Tex gradually eased away his cuteness). the blue looks great with the yellow beak though, and i am REALLY sad we didn't get to see more instances of Irv Spence animating Daffy (for reference, he animates the short's song number) because i seriously think that would have been something magical if it continued

i like how some poses of Spence's Daffy animation end up looking like something right out of an Ub Iwerks short. the spirit of Flip the Frog is trying to insert itself into this duck

very tangential, but since i'm thinking about Tex Avery Duck i'm yet again obliged to share the model sheet for Porky's Duck Hunt. can you imagine if he stayed this small forever, and how excruciatingly hilarious every single cartoon starring him would be. nothing changes fundamentally accept for the design and size difference. it would be magical

[hetalia-club]

Breaking down America's raw power

I think the best way I can describe how I see Alfred's strength is that of a Mantis Shrimp. Like imagine how strong a Mantis shrimp is but in human size. Never heard of Mantis shrimp? Let me lay it out for you. A mantis Shrimp can throw a punch at 50 miles an hour and when it swings its hand the kinetic force around it makes the water so hot that it boils. The average Mantis shrimp can punch with a force of being hit with 340 lbs of force. Just in one tiny little claw. and that is the average shrimp not one that is seasoned and has been at it awhile the big ones can get u to 1 ft long and the bigger they get the stronger they get. If their punch happens to form a bubble underwater when the bubble pops it is as hot a the surface of the sun. If a human gets punched by one apparently it feels like being shot by a .22. They can easily fracture human bones. People do keep them as pets but they don't make that great of pets because they can shatter aquarium glass.

Now I don't feel like Alfred utilizes this strength very often but that being said I do fully believe he has the strength to punch a hole through someone's chest if he wanted to.

Let's just sort of break it down a little.

Alfred First Discovery:

Has the ability with little to no effort to pick up a full grown bull bison and swing it over its head.

The weight of an average bull bison is 2000 lbs.

Alfred 1940's:

Drug around England car with a single hand for over an hour because he simply wanted to drive it. Again this looks like a Ford model A of some kind and the typical weight for that kind of car in this time period was about 2,500 lbs. Mind you when America finally found England he was not out of breath or even sweating. This was just a regular Tuesday for him.

I think it is just something the Hetalia fandom doesn't really play off of much and everyone just kind of forgets that America is basically a superhero when it comes to strength. I think of him as having One Punch man level strength where he can be as strong as he needs to be for parody's sake.

______________________________________________

I have this theory that the reason that the cold war happened (I am talking Hetalia here not IRL) Is simply because America and Russia were bored. Because I firmly believe America is not alone in having this massive strength though his might be the most intense. I believe Russia has it as well.

We never 'see' it on screen we do get to hear about it from other nations and when Russia was late to a meeting he did tell America that he "Got a raw deal, I had to stop tanks with my bare hands" Everyone was surprised except except America who just said. "Dude that's sick". He wasn't impressed or afraid by it and simply was like "That's a cool way to spend the afternoon". Then in the same instance when they were acting like they were going to get in an actual fight both France and England had to separate then both seeming extremely concerned while doing so like they were trying to prevent a DBZ style fight.

The cold war was just trying to get the two of them not to get into a fist fight because everyone else was afraid what would happen if they did.

There are a couple others who are rumored to have this strength Sweden being one of them. I think Finland said there were a couple more but I can't remember who. Himaruya said before that Italy is extremely powerful but doesn't often show it because he's a 'coward' Now if we think about it, it would be true based on history. He has beaten a lot of powerful nations by himself. Turkey, Spain, Austria, Empire, France, His brother, Hungary-Austria and many others. Italy has historically won more wars than they have lost by a land slide. Epically after they were unified. They were damn near untouchable after that. In fact Italy has lost very few wars and a lot of wars they have fought have ended in a forfeit which there is nothing wrong with understanding when you've lost and throwing in the towel. It's stupider to keep fighting when you're continuing to lose.

_________________________________________________

People seem to think that the UK follows America into battle whenever they go but that's simply not the case if you look up American wars you will see a little green, white and red flag with us even when the UK and Canadian flag isn't there.

I know I'm rambling but I fully believe what I'm saying is true. Maybe starting my HFC poll is sparking it in me thinking just how strong they would actually be.

[hierophantmeme]

The Stranger in the Mirror

(Zoro x Reader)

Hello, everyone! I’ve been contemplating whether or not to post my fanfics for years, but anxiety had gotten the better of me. I've been trying to step out of my comfort zone more recently and thought why not post them now. So here’s my fanfic debut, I guess! 

This is part of a bigger thing I’m working on, but I wanted to post a little snippet to see how it goes. If anything doesn’t make sense or if the beginning feels abrupt, that’s probably why. I tried to edit it so it could still be it’s own stand-alone piece. 

Some context before you read: Before the events of this scenario, the reader feels they needed to avoid Zoro as to not show their true feelings. They are now in a situation in which they have no other choice but to confront them. I’d say what this situation was but then I’d have to explain a lot of stuff and just wanted this to be short.

Content contains: no y/n, 1st-person POV, short instance of dissociation, implied AFAB reader but gender-neutral pronouns are used, SFW for the most part (gets a little steamy but not too much), a bit of body worship, short, plus-sized, insecure reader

———————————————

“I’m sorry if you don’t love me back but I just can’t help it. I’ve been avoiding you because I fell in love with you, okay? I didn’t want my stupid feelings for you to make things awkward since we’re crewmates.” I stare at the man in front of me waiting for his response but am met with silence instead. “I know you could never love me back so just forget I said anything okay? I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable.” I start to leave but am halted by his deep voice.

“That’s it?” I turn to face him. “I thought it was something more serious.”

I stare at him in disbelief and answer, “What do you mean. This is serious, Zoro. You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“But it isn’t.”

“What do you mean it isn’t. Are my feelings not serious enough for you? You’re all that’s been on my mind and it’s so annoying. Do you know what it feels like to be in love with someone who doesn’t even look your way? I know we live on the same freaking boat as each other but you’re always training or sleeping and I see the way you look at that marine lady with the glasses.”

“Who? Tashigi?”

I nod.

“She’s a marine! Ya think I’m gonna go for someone like her? I only kept looking at her cause she reminded me of an old friend that’s no longer with us. Besides, she looks different now after two years and I never thought of my friend as anything more than that.”

I place my hands to my face in shock, “Zoro, I’m so sorry. I had no idea…”

“Hey, it’s not your fault. I don’t talk about her much anyway. But I’m surprised with how often you look at me, you don’t see the way I look at you.”

I tilt my head in confusion, “What do you mean?”

“It means I like you too,” he states so matter-of-factly, his mutual confession doesn’t process in my mind.

We stare intently at each other for a few moments until his words finally get through to me.

“Why?”

“What do you mean why,” questions Zoro like it’s some big mystery.

“Do you see me? I’m not as tall or as skinny as Nami or Robin. I can’t train or be in battle for as long as you and the other strawhats can without collapsing first and being a nuisance to you guys. And I’m such a coward.” I turn to the side and look at the floor, “I can’t even confess these silly little feelings right. It took me two damn years to say anything cause I was so scared..”

He slowly walks up to me and places a hand on my shoulder. I look up into his lustrous, dark-gray eyes. My longing gaze quickly turns into one of determination.

“You know what,” I say in the most assertive tone I have ever spoken in, surprising myself in the process, “I won’t be a coward any longer.”

I take him by surprise as I jump up to wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. I then pressed my lips upon his for a quick second, still afraid of what he might say.

“You call that a kiss? Cause if you’re gonna stop being a coward, this is how you shoulda done it.” He places his hands on my hips and holds me in a longer, more passionate kiss than the first. 

Soon tears begin to flow down my cheek. Once we break our lips away, he opens his eyes and notices. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, rubbing the tears away with one hand while keeping a firm grasp on me with the other.

”I don’t know. I guess I’m just still in shock. I know there are far better people for you out there than me, so why again would you choose me?”

“Um, I dunno… I guess I like someone who can challenge me. I know you may not have much to challenge me in physical strength,” he says teasingly, ”but you’ve challenged me in mental strength, and that has honestly been a lot tougher than any physical fight I’ve ever faced.” He starts peppering my neck with kisses. “Oh, and one more thing” he trails up to kiss my cheeks and then stops to look at me in the eyes, “Believe me when I say I’ve never seen anyone as attractive as you.” 

”But-” He presses an index finger to my lips.

“Shhhhhh. Let me show you something.” He carefully carries me over to a mirror in the room and sets me down in front of it. “I want you to name every little thing you hate about yourself and I’ll prove to you that you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

”Zoro, what the hell. You know I’m afraid of mirrors.”

“Well, you said you didn’t want to be a coward anymore, right? Maybe it’s time to face this fear. I think I know why you’re so afraid of them and I’m gonna make you love them cause I want you to see what I see when I look at you.” He stands behind me and places both of his hands on my shoulders. "What’s something you think makes you look ugly? I’ll show you that you’re wrong.”

“Um… o-okay?…” I stammer out feeling a bit embarrassed at being put on the spot. “Well I- I told you earlier…” He looks at me with a stern look that turns into into a softer frown. Zoro’s hands move down to my hips. His hands reach to pull the hem of my shirt up just a little, revealing a sight so utterly disgusting, I flinch and turn away. I want to escape his grasp but I can’t. It’s not that he’s holding me so tight that I can’t physically leave, but there’s just something about him holding me like this that makes me all flustered and weak in the knees. I may not be a devil fruit user but his touch weakens me like sea prism stone would to someone that was. Damn this idiot mosshead!

He surprises me further by shifting to one side of me and he kneels down to my hips, showering me with small kisses as he descends. His arms reach up to turn me around to face the mirror again. His hands massage the weight I have to carry 24/7. “Ya know, babe. I actually like someone with meat on their bones. It just means they’re gonna taste so damn good, and if you were any thinner, I’d probably accidentally break you in half anyway.”

”So you’re not grossed out by it?”

“Why would I be. Look how beautiful you are. Every inch of your body is so friggin’ irresistible. I don’t care what other people find attractive, cause I know what I find attractive”

”Does that mean you like my stretch marks too?”

“What do think?” His lips curl up into a mischievous grin. He presses his lips on the stretch marks of my round, squishy tummy, one hand holding me around the waist in place, and the other massaging my side in small circles. I freeze up to look at the reflection in the mirror. This isn't something that should be happening. People like me don’t usually get to experience something like this. It’s so foreign. I clearly must be dreaming right? 

It’s like I’ve been removed from my body and am now observing a complete stranger. The taller person looks familiar but I swear I’ve never seen the shorter one in my life before. They look like something I’ve never been; something I’ll never be: beautiful. 

Who is this person looking in the mirror? That could not possibly ever be me. There’s a handsome, kind, and strong, yet gentle man moving his hands and lips down to the person’s thighs, devouring them like they were the most delicious meal he’s ever had. Way better than anything the blonde-haired, curly-browed cook could ever make. 

He’s now speaking into their thighs in a sweet, deep voice. I can’t hear anything but I can feel the vibration of his voice. But wait… How am I feeling that vibration if those aren’t my thighs he’s speaking into. He then stands up straight and stands behind them, caressing every bit of skin on their gorgeous body with such devotion. If that was my body, this man would avert his eyes in sheer disgust. Certainly, no one would ever want to lovingly and willingly feel the plumpness of my body… right? He turns the person around and… no wait, that can’t be right. I should still be looking at the mirror. Why am I looking at the warm, dark eyes of the green-haired man that was worshipping that divine body just a second ago?

Could that have been-  No, it couldn’t have. Could it?