#i would love to see someone draw them in these scenarios

[get-kratioed]

𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐅𝐀𝐕. 𝐎𝐓𝟒!!!

𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒 (ft. KraTýr):

[canisalbus]

So i remember an ask mentioning your mortal enemy, Felis Atra and their cats, and i thought it'd be fun to draw what Felis Atra's version of your italian dogs would be.

I think they would be called Butter Knife and Flamengo! Butter Knife is not his real name, it's an nickname given by his peers because of how harmless he is. I choose Flamengo because that's the name of Vasco's rival football team here in Brazil, so i thought that was the perfect name :)

Cat Machete was slightly inspired by the Oriental Shorthair cat because of their long noses and thin head shape.

Cat Vasco was inspired by the Scottish Fold cat, because FLOPPY EARS. I gave Flamengo longer ears and orange fur to make him more like his look-alike.

The last doodle is a reference to this ask (https://canisalbus.tumblr.com/post/728923918314946560/me-i-am-machete-ear-fan-number-1-those-ears) and contains the tumblr ask stand-in dog, whose cat version was inspired by the American Curl cat! They have round ears that are slightly floppy outwards.

Final notes: I know cardinal clothes don't come in vibrant blue, but i was ADAMANT on switching Machete's and Vasco's clothing color patterns. I would draw the rest of Butter Knife's and Flamengo's clothes, but i suck at designing cool outfits.

Speaking of outfits, for Machete's iconic void outfit, i figured it would be fun to make it more baggy for Butter Knife, in contrast to Machete's, that looks very tight-fitted. I think it's cute, it kinda looks like a sweater. Also i can't imagine a Machete doppelganger without high heels boots, so those HAD to stay.

Oh, and just to be clear, i'm not like, claiming ownership of these guys or anything. I just thought it would be a fun exercise. Hope you like them!! I love your art and your characters.

.

[rottiens]

My main question for you today is (and you can, of course as always, take your time with the answer)

If you could choose between your fictional crushes, which one of them would you want to dream about you? Or imagine things? Kind of how we do it, but they know they're fictional and you're real, but they can never really have you. Who would you want to ache for you?

Shikari…….. you really made me think a lot and I, I want to be fair and I will give you an answer, just one person. And I think for no one it will be a surprise that, gojo. Because I want to feel him long for me to be real in the same way I do for him, especially with everything that happened in the manga

[with-my-calamitous-love]

HE SAW FOREVER SO HE SMASHED IT UP

katsuki bakugou x reader

the times bakugou broke your heart

heavily inspired by mbobhft

1) the denial

“are we breaking up?”

“…yeah.”

“oh.”

his reasons made sense. he had a job, a goal, a burning drive to prove himself as the best. he was burnt out, his fingers worked to the bones. he couldn’t give you not just what you wanted, but what you needed. and that killed him more than it did you.

it made sense. the gears turned. the writing was on paper. like almost everything he did, it worked out. of course it worked out for katsuki bakugou- he’s the best.

it wasn’t all that set in stone for you, however.

he could have given you a million more reasons before the tears spilled. “i’m an asshole.” true. “i don’t treat you right.” fair. “you deserve so much fuckin’ better, [y/n.]” yeah, he was right.

but you always liked to challenge the acceptable.

at first, it didn’t hit you as hard as you thought it would. you walked through your room, too numb to pay mind to the tears that rolled down your cheeks, and silently packed up his sweaters into a box. the necklace he gave you, the ‘k’ pendant, came off your neck like a butterfly lands on a branch, knowing that its death is inevitable and doing nothing to stop it.

at night, you cried, and cried, and cried. you called him about 27 times. he never answered. he texted you to make sure you were okay, but your tear-blurred eyes kept you from seeing the keyboard clearly. you left him on seen and prayed that he was worried, prayed that his heart would explode at your lack of an answer, prayed to god that he would come over just to check on. suffice to say your prayers were left unanswered.

you thought he’d call. but he didn’t. but your soul remained devoted, eyes glued to your phone screen and hands shaking. he has to call. he has to tell you goodnight. he has to tell you that you’re an idiot. he has to tell you he loves you. he’s going too, idiot.

right?

2) the anger

if he wanted you dead, why didn’t he just say?

your heart burned for anger. for salvation. for revenge. you knew katsuki bakugou knew anger well, but he had no idea the way your soul flared like a whole new depth of hell.

you laid in bed, awake, eyes excruciatingly drive from crying your tear ducts may as well have been burnt off. memories of him haunted your brain while your fists tightened.

you regretted giving him your heart. your love. your late nights and early mornings. your fights, your passions, your 2ams and your smiles. you hated the way you let him draw the laughter out of you, how he showed parts of himself to you he had never shown anyone.

and those little things that made up your love, he was going to use on someone else. you knew it.

he was going to cook them his special fried rice his mom taught him how to do. he was going to teach them how to punch because he doesn’t want them to get hurt- something he did for you. he was going kiss them how he kissed you, love them in a way that should have only been you.

but he shouldn’t. in fact, he should look back at what you had, and regret every. single. thing. he did to let is end. he should regret everything he didn’t do to keep you. he should burn alive from guilt. scream. cry. fight for his life while his body is doused in gasoline. attempt miserably to tear the fire off his skin while it burned him to a crisp. he should die screaming.

he should deserved it, after all. because he heard your screams, and put his headphones on.

3) the bargaining

please. you wailed. who do i have to talk to? what do i have to do to get him back!?

you suddenly thought of so many scenarios in your head, scenarios fuelled by false hope. things you’d do to kiss him one last time, to hold him, to love him and be loved by him. you’d dry the ocean water. you’d turn stones into gold. you’d bring him to heaven and back. you’d get out of bed. you’d compromise more. you wouldn’t forget to kiss him. you’d love him. you’d love him so much harder. please.

suddenly everything seemed possible. if someone answered your calls, if someone made a deal with you, you’d offer up everything. you were sure you’d place everything on the line for him. you want it all back- his yelling, his snark, his nicknames, his attitude, his everything- no, your everything. you’d pluck out your own eyes for his red ones, or your heart for his heroic soul that loved you brighter than anyone else. being loved by katsuki bakugou was something you wouldn’t trade for anything- turns out you couldn’t trade it either.

4) the depression

everything smelled like him. your sheets blossomed into his sweet, burnt scent, the one that he’d leave behind whenever he slept over simply because he left you. all your jackets felt like his chiseled arms, wrapped around you as if you’d be gone in a moments notice. his voice was everywhere. the songs on the radio, the words you read on your phone, and the memories that played like your favourite movie soundtrack.

you wondered if he knew you couldn’t get out of bed. sometimes you imagined him calling your ass lazy, and then dragging you out of bed with a kiss to your forehead and a breakfast he cooked for you. maybe then you’d rip off the sheets and face the day. but right now, your bed was the only place you could mourn.

it was cruel, in a sense. letting you fall in love with him only to leave. letting you fall in love with his stupid smug smirk, his laugh, his teasing, his anger, his unreasonable handsomeness, his millions of pet peeves and trigger words, his clinginess, his distance, his days and nights, ups and downs, his hate and love all tied into one. he made you love him, knowing you would never get to love another katsuki bakugou.

5) the acceptance

acceptance was bakugou realizing how badly he fucked up.

part 2 soon!

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae!

I love your writing so much and think about it maybe too often haha. Today I fell and sliced the back of my hand open so I had to go wait 4 hours at the ER to get it sutured back together and I thought it might be a sort of funny scenario to write about with the marauders where R just walks up to them covered in blood like “heyy who wants to drive me to the ER” and is pretty chill in demeanour until the reality of having a hole in her hand sets in once they clean her up. I went into shock then, lost my hearing for a few minutes which was scary, but luckily I had a someone nearby who could help. Of course no worries if you don’t feel like it, I appreciate you and I hope you have a lovely day!♡

Thanks for requesting! I hope your hand is feeling better lovely <3

cw: blood, mention of razors (unrelated to blood)

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 788 words

“Hey, Sirius?” 

Sirius screws the brush of his nail polish back into the bottle. “Yeah?” 

“Are you busy?” 

“Not anymore.” He gets up from the bed, wandering towards your voice in the bathroom. “What’s up, gorgeous? You need something?” 

Sirius stalls when he finds you. You’re standing there with a dissatisfied frown on your face, your hand a basin of blood held in front of you that’s overflowing into the sink. 

“Maybe a ride to A&E?” you ask. “If you’re free.” 

“What the hell happened?” Sirius goes to you. He tries to take your hand, but you move it away. 

“Wait, your nails—” 

“I’m not really worried about my nails right now, babe.” He holds you by the wrist, turning the faucet on to a gentle flow before bringing your hand underneath it. The blood washes away quickly, and Sirius blocks your view of the cut, leaning down to see it. “How’d you manage this?” 

“I was just opening my new razors—” 

“Razors?” 

“It wasn’t even the razors that did it,” you say, a laugh somewhere in your voice. Your raised voices have drawn attention from the rest of the house. Remus and then James appear in the doorway. “It was the plastic it comes in. Surprisingly sharp.” 

“What’s going on?” asks James. 

“She would like to know,” Sirius informs him, “if it’s convenient for any of us to drive her to A&E.” 

You roll your eyes. “Alright, you don’t have to say it like that. I just mean that it’s not so dire, I’m hardly bleeding out.” 

“You might be!” 

“What’d you do, love?” Remus moves forward to see, he and Sirius now clustered on either side of you, each closer to your own hand than you are. 

“She managed to injure herself with plastic packaging.”

“Okay. Again, the tone is a bit much,” you say. 

“Aw, sweetheart.” James’ arms wrap around your waist. He smudges a kiss onto your cheek. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” you tell him, audibly softening at the affection, “it doesn’t even hurt that bad, it’s only stinging…” You go quiet. 

Sirius glances back at you, and you’re staring between him and Remus, your hand in your view for the first time. You look suddenly paler. 

“Hey, baby.” Sirius’ voice draws the attention of the other two to what’s happened. He steps in front of your hand again, squeezing up the length of your arm. “You’re okay.” 

“It’s…” You stare at where you had been for a moment longer, then snap your vision to the side. You’re breathing a tad faster. “God, sorry. I feel sort of sick.” 

“Take some breaths, dove, you’re alright.” Remus holds your hand close to his chest, shielding it from your view as he reaches into a nearby drawer for bandages. “We’re just going to stop the bleeding and then take you to A&E, you don’t have to do anything.” 

“All of you?” 

“Why?” James gives your middle a light squeeze. “Are there some of us you’d rather not have there?”

“I knew she had favorites.” Sirius grins. “Cruel. We’re only trying to be there for you, gorgeous.” 

You smile a little bit for their sake. You’re not sure either of them believe it, but James gives you a thankful kiss nonetheless. 

“Keep breathing,” he reminds you, big hand rubbing up and down your abdomen. “You’re really doing so well. I was surprised by how calm you seemed a minute ago.” 

“You should have heard her before you got here.” Sirius squints his eyes at you playfully. “She wouldn’t let me touch her hand because she was worried it’d mess up my nail polish.” 

“Sweetheart,” James laughs, giving you another fond squeeze. “Really?” 

“Priorities, babe,” Sirius chides you. 

“Alright,” says Remus. You feel a kiss on your knuckles, and then he’s turning around, your bandaged hand still held protectively between both of his. “Is anyone going to warm the car, or do I have to do everything?” 

You nod, chastened, and start towards the door, but you’re dragged back by three pairs of hands. 

“I mean anyone not injured, dove.” Remus’ voice is heavy with loving exasperation. 

“See what we’ve been dealing with? It’s a two man job.” Sirius squeezes your shoulder on his way past, presumably going to warm the car. James says something about getting your shoes and follows behind.

You give Remus a woeful look. He tsks, folding you into a hug. “Did you really prioritize Sirius’ nail polish over your bleeding hand?” he asks in a murmur. 

You mush your cheek to his chest. “Only for a minute.” 

Remus is quiet, but his amused breath fans over the top of your head as he brings his lips down for a kiss.

[halemerry]

So there's a lot to unpack here but I want to start by talking about the ending and specifically about the Metatron and the calculating moves made at the end of episode 6.

Every single piece of what happened there was a manipulation technique being employed against Aziraphale to an almost brilliant degree and I'm honestly a little obsessed with what this says about the Metatron in particular.

Let's go in order.

First of all. We see him order coffee. In a human body. Something sweet and sugary. He talks to Nina and asks her about her shop name. Does anyone ever ask for death? And when she tells him no they don't his response is to say "so predictable". Our introduction to him here even when everything about him reads like a sweet old man is presented to show us someone who reads the world in terms of being predictable to him.

He then shows up in the middle of Aziraphale's existence being threatened. He immediately cuts down the threat's authority (using outdated language like Az himself would favor) and reemphasizes his own connection to Heaven. When Michael doesn't recognize him and he puts her down and then directly engages Crowley. Crowley who, to Aziraphale, has for centuries at a minimum been someone he thinks is smarter, better, more Good than these other archangels. The Metatron validates these beliefs. Crowley is more Heavenly than these archangels who couldn't even recognize the voice of God when he was standing right in front of them.

The Metatron draws attention to the fact he's in a human body. The kind of body Aziraphale has been in and loved for nearly 6000 years. He then banishes the archangels, implying their morality is in a gray space, and validates Muriel someone we have seen Aziraphale react positively to and someone outside the current power structure. Look at me, he's saying. I see and validate the little guy.

He then tries to talk to Aziraphale. Aziraphale says "I've made my position quite clear." And then the Metatron offers Aziraphale the coffee. This bartering chip, consuming sustenance, is a thing that Aziraphale and Crowley have used as their connective tissue for centuries. It's an olive branch for them. It's giving Aziraphale bodily pleasure and the Metatron implies that he himself has partaken also - a thing we know that Aziraphale has struggled historically with moralizing. He is seen by the closest thing he has left to his parent and he is having old fears validated as safe and old habits being played upon to make him feel secure

He then REMOVES Aziraphale from his home turf. Not only does he remove Crowley from the equation but he takes Aziraphale from the place that has stood as a place of sanctuary throughout the entirety of the season. The shop is Safe and Aziraphale is leaving it and he is leaving the one person who might be able to smell the bullshit coming from the Metatron. The music notably turns absolutely dire here.

The next time we see them the Metatron tells Aziraphale that he doesn't need to answer instantly. He can take his time, if he likes. All the time he needs. And then tells him to go tell Crowley. Once again bringing Crowley in as a valid part of this while manufacturing a scenario where he can't possibly be.

Az ends up in a place where he's overwhelmed and confused and he wants so badly to believe what he's being told. It's an appealing thing from his perspective! He feels off kilter like he's made a mistake in judging the Metatron. He can't even fully articulate what happened to Crowley at first and he's had absolutely no real time to actually think it through. He's running on sheer reactive energy.

The Metatron starts their conversation by asking Aziraphale's opinion. Who should rule Heaven? This is once again playing into making Az feel validated and like he's a part of this decision making process. The Metatron corrects him, complimenting Aziraphale and making him feel capable and in control. He reassures Aziraphale's bafflement. And draws attention to some traits that, while true of Aziraphale around Crowley, are not his defining traits in the eyes of Heaven. You don't just tell people what they want to hear I find particularly notable in this regard given Aziraphale spent most of his time on earth actively lying to Heaven and doing just that. But it fits into the narrative Aziraphale has built around himself, especially post Apocalypse. The Metatron then says I need you (a phrase Az will use much more painfully here in a minute).

And even after all this Aziraphale says no. He says flat out he doesn't want to go back to Heaven. He says this!!! And then the Metatron sweetens the pot. He swaps tactics. Not once has this come up until Aziraphale pushes back against the idea. If the Metatron could've gotten him without using it I have no doubt he wouldn't have bothered with it. Come to Heaven and we can save Crowley. Aziraphale loves Crowley. Aziraphale thinks Crowley is better than any of the angels he's interacted with. Crowley is Good and Nice and Kind and always saving him and now he's being presented with a way to return that. He can Forgive Crowley - a thing Crowley has always presented to Aziraphale as something he struggles with. All of these things Aziraphale has watched Crowley react to in a way that belittles himself or distances them from one another. Of course he wouldn't consider that maybe what he was actually saying is "I'm unforgivable and I don't want that forgiveness."

The Metatron offers Aziraphale a Dream Offer for the pre Armageddon Aziraphale. You can keep your Crowley. You can heal him like you have always thought he deserved. You can have power and control the people who for your whole existence has beaten you down. It can go back to how it was but BETTER.

When Aziraphale leaves he still hasn't answered. He goes and has the conversation they have. It's intense and emotional and the Metatron comes in after the Moment all casual and asks how it goes, knowing fully well the shitstorm he had just set up to get created. And then he turns around and says "always did want to go his own way" which is not only true of Crowley but framed as a bad thing despite the fact that he has just spent twenty minutes or so telling Aziraphale that he's done his own thing and that is Good. He is playing both sides of this perspective as it suits him. And then he cuts down Crowley asking questions, pressuring Aziraphale to avoid doing the same. He then proceeds to ask Aziraphale not if he's made up his mind but if he's ready to get started. He is one by one closing off exit routes to this thing as Aziraphale starts to look more and more panicked and indecisive. He makes sure the bookshop is in good hands and asks Aziraphale if there's anything he needs to take with him. Letting Aziraphale have the illusion of choice while cutting down "I don't want to" as an option altogether.

And Az, as soon as the Metatron is out of shot, tries to express this. And then he falls back right on old coping methods. The Metatron pats him on the head. Reassures that he's the right one for this. That he is Good. That his particular skillset is needed here.

It is a masterstroke of manipulation. A very dark twist on what we see Crowley do time and time again with Aziraphale throughout the millennia. Familiar in a way that makes Aziraphale feel safe. Except this time this is being used to put him back in line. It's brilliant and painful and it fucking hurt and I need a season 3 to see the Metatron get what's coming to him stat.

[planetxiao]

# HAPPINESS FOR TWO

𖤐 umemiya hajime ; suo hayato ; sakura haruka x reader

⟢ fluff, scenarios // when their friends realized you’re good for each other.

𖤐 UMEMIYA HAJIME

Damn it all.

Hiragi wasn’t sure how, but he managed to make it home without realizing he didn’t have his antacid tablets on him. He checked – double checked – each of his pockets, but alas, they were gone. He sighed. There was only one place he thought it could be: back on the rooftop of Furin High.

He wasn’t usually forgetful, but it had been a long day, he supposed. That unnecessarily big fight took a lot out of him. 

It was like any other day, another leader of a gang demanding to fight Umemiya, except this guy was too persistent about it. In fact, all of his men seemed to have been of one mind. In the end, Umemiya gave him the fight he wanted. Of course, the white haired Bofurin leader reigned victorious, but he didn’t leave the fight unscathed. No one did. That being said, everyone was fine; they just left with minor cuts, scrapes, and bruises.

A meeting on the rooftop was held after the fight, each captain and vice captain giving their report before leaving for the day. That was when he must’ve set them down.

Hiragi trudged all the way back to Furin High, stomach turning at the possibility of getting roped into Umemiya’s antics again – if he was still there, anyway. The sun was about to set, and all of that day’s teams were on their last patrol shift. 

He had half a mind to kick down the door in irritation, but he resigned to pushing it open.  With his hands stuffed in his pockets, Hiragi’s eyes peeled this way and that to look for the very guy whose mere mention gave him indigestion in the first place.

Left, clear. Right, clear. A breath of relief… let out too soon.

Hiragi took one step before freezing. Sat at the picnic table about 15 feet away was Umemiya and someone he recognized to be his partner. 

Hiragi had seen you a couple times before. You would come to bring Umemiya lunch from time to time, and he would show you all of the plants he was growing in return. He really didn’t know anything about you but your name, nor did he ever feel the need to know more than that.

That was probably his fifth time seeing you. You both straddled the bench, facing each other, with your legs pulled over Umemiya’s. His hands rested on your hips as you gently wiped a cotton pad over the scratches on his face. Umemiya gazed at you with eyes that held nothing but love in them and a smile so easily made, like that of a dreamer stuck within his fantasies.

“Hajime, how many times have I asked you to be careful?” You sighed.

He laughed bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck, “Sorry, Sorry! I tried, I really did!”

You applied a large bandage to the cut on Umemiya’s cheek, shaking your head lightly.

“I know. I just worry about you.”

“I know, my love,” He cupped your face, “But, it’s okay. I’m okay! You don’t need to worry, I’ll always come back to you, okay?”

It was almost picturesque, the way you melted together like chocolate under the setting sun. Your forehead rested against his while he interlocked his fingers with yours. Hiragi felt bad watching the scene unfold in front of his eyes.

You giggled, “That was so cheesy, you dork.”

“What?! I thought it was romantic!”

He would rather eat his own shoe than admit this to anyone, but Hiragi smiled at the sight of Umemiya holding his world in the palm of his hands. He seemed to have found his true other half, someone that understood and cared for him in the way Umemiya deserved.

The creak of the rooftop door closing was heard by both you and Umemiya, the only sign that Hiragi was ever there. 

He’d come back for those tablets later.

𖤐 SUO HAYATO

Shouts bellowed down the street, drawing a crowd. It’s not unnecessarily unusual for a fight to break out there, but the people of the town watch as if it was the first time. Onlookers lined the walls of the narrow street close to the action.

Sakura and Nirei had been walking to meet up with Suo on their day off. They agreed to meet outside of Kotoha’s cafe at noon, but Sakura and Nirei were running late. As for why, well, Nirei had to take the time to go all the way to Sakura’s apartment and wake him up because he had overslept. Let’s just say Nirei had a rather stressful morning.

The fast shuffling of feet caught Sakura’s attention. He quirked a brow, looking up from his shoes to see a group of people in the distance. Some of them had been sent flying back in different directions, piquing Sakura’s curiosity.

What the hell? There’s a fight right now?

The itch of annoyance Sakura felt from that morning had him rearing to go. Nirei gulped. However, a comment from one of the onlookers was what sent them running towards the crowd.

“Hey, isn’t that eyepatch guy from Bofurin?”

Suo was in it?

They pushed through the crowd to see for themselves. Sure enough, they recognized the tassel earrings whipping in the air before they could even see their friend’s face. From the look of it, there weren’t that many foes left, and he had someone fighting alongside him.

You and Suo were back to back, taking one guy after another. Your movements mirrored each other as if watching a master and student. While your actions were more limited and practiced, Suo’s refined moves looked purely instinctual. He drew in his opponents with a mere look and had them on their backs within seconds. It was a violent dance that you both had invited your foes to.

Sakura and Nirei watched in shock, seeing these men drop like flies. It was ridiculous, this wasn’t a fight. There was no struggle from both sides, only one.

There were only two left, and Suo seemed to sense foul play heading in your direction. The sun gleamed off the metal bat that reeled back in front of you. You gasped. You weren’t used to fighting against weapons. Hell, you weren’t even that used to fighting in general. The guy smirked, swinging as hard as he could. But, the path of the bat was abruptly stopped as Suo flew through the air, swiftly kicking the guy in the face. The metal bat hit the ground with a clang, the owner flying back into a wall before crumbling onto the ground.

Suo’s venomous gaze lingered for a second on the man who sought to hurt you, though another one charged at him from behind. You called out his name – a warning hot on your lips. Suo took notice of the impending presence, but before he could turn and deal with the person, the crisp sound of a fist connecting with skin rang in his ears. Suo looked back, seeing the guy unconscious on the ground with most likely a broken nose.

Cheers erupted in the street, praising Suo and his partner in taking down the brutes. Sakura stuffed his hands in his pockets with a huff, while Nirei beamed at the two of you.

“Wow! I wonder who that person is. Do you know, Sakura?”

“No idea.”

As Nirei was about to approach them, he watched Suo take your hand in his and examine your bleeding knuckles.

You laughed bashfully and shrugged, “I improvised.”

Suo smiled softly, raising his other hand to caress your burning cheek.

“You did well, my dear.”

Oh! Oh.

Nirei whipped his head back to Sakura, about to shout about how Suo had a secret romantic partner, but stopped when he saw Sakura’s wide eyed blush. When Nirei turned back around, he saw Suo leading you into Kotoha’s cafe with a hand on the small of your back. Your head nestled in the crook of his neck.

The blond couldn’t help the way his lips curled. He ran after the two, pulling out his small notebook. That was the first time he had seen you, but he could tell you were special to Suo and he to you. You two made one hell of a good team. A scary one, but good nonetheless.

He just hoped he and Sakura would never do anything to piss you off.

𖤐 SAKURA HARUKA

Nirei was pacing.

“Where could he be? He’s never disappeared for this long before. One day, sure. But three? Something’s wrong. I just know it.”

Suo placed a hand on Nirei’s shoulder, a friendly smile remaining on his face. He understood that Nirei worried about Sakura as much if not more than anyone else at Furin High, but biting his nails over the issue wasn’t going to fix it. Ever the voice of reason, Suo spoke calmly to his friend.

“Relax, Nire-kun. The last time Sakura was gone, he was sick in his home, right?”

Nirei looked up at Suo, concern furrowing his brow.

“That’s the thing. I checked his apartment yesterday and he wasn’t there.”

Suo hummed. An interesting turn of events. He doubted that Sakura would just up and disappear – he could’ve just been out when Nirei came around. There’s an explanation for everything, after all. Sakura’s strong, it’s not likely he was kidnapped or anything of the sort. He was probably just sick again. Even so, it wouldn’t be good if Sakura was ill and wandering around…

“I see. Then why don’t we check one more time?”

Nirei nodded and turned on his heel, making a bee-line out of the classroom with Suo following behind.

Nirei kept a brisk pace. He was always at least three steps ahead of Suo, who kept his normal pace. It was Suo’s second time coming up on the desolate complex. The scenery was less surprising this time around, but the tattered place was eerie all the same.

They knocked once, twice, thrice, receiving no answer each time. Suo’s hand grasped the knob, remembering how it was unlocked last time they came to check on Sakura, and turned it. The door opened with a ghostly creak, no sign of life anywhere in the room. Suo called for Sakura. Still no answer.

“Sorry for the intrusion,” Suo murmured, deja vu creeping over him.

Nirei followed. Suo slid the door to the main room open and was greeted by nothing, Sakura’s futon rolled away haphazardly in the corner. Not even his uniform hung where it was last time. Nirei began to wring his hands. Where the hell could Sakura have gone?

“Huh, he’s still not here,” Suo wondered aloud before turning to his worried friend, “Have you tried asking his partner if they’ve seen him?”

“No, I don’t have any way to contact them.”

The brown haired boy had an inkling that he knew where Sakura might be.

That was how they wound up on your doorstep after the sun had set. They had seen you quite a few times, even coming with Sakura to see you once or twice. Sakura had told them each time not to come, but of course his friends were curious about his partner. Suo would insist, while Nirei would just follow.

Like earlier, they knocked on the door and awaited a response. If he wasn’t here, Nirei was going to lose his mind.

The knob turned. Nirei didn’t waste a second.

“Hello, sorry for the bother, but have you seen-”

A hand covered his mouth, surprising him. When he looked up at you with wide eyes, you simply held your finger over your mouth, signaling him to keep quiet. Suo peered through the door behind you and understood.

Surrounded by various medicine bottles and a tissue box laid Sakura, sound asleep. His monochromatic hair splayed in different directions, twirled together in some spots like yin and yang. Nirei and Suo could see his reddened nose and cheeks from where they stood at the door. All tell tale signs of Suo’s confirmed suspicion. Taking one last peek, Suo and Nirei chuckled at Sakura’s sleeping form, a trickle of drool peeking from the corner of his ajar mouth.

You stepped outside with the two boys, closing the door behind you.

“Sorry Nirei, I didn’t want him to wake up. What’s going on?”

“Has Sakura been here for the past three days?” Nirei asked.

You nodded.

“He started feeling sick while he was here a couple days ago, so I’ve been taking care of him. He’s doing better though, his fever finally broke just before you came actually. Should be up and moving by tomorrow.”

Nirei breathed a sigh of relief. Sakura was fine, he could finally relax his tense shoulders. Suo’s usual kind smile melted into something softer after hearing your explanation. An unspoken thought was shared between the two boys as they glanced at each other. The heavy feeling of deja vu had dissipated because something was different this time.

Thank god Sakura has you.

note: i’m actually pretty happy with how these turned out :D also in suo’s, if not implied well, he taught you those moves :3 i hope their characterizations are all okay!!

[montimer]

Deadpool x reader

Gn!reader,him gaining a crush on ya

He tries not to believe it. Is there even a scenario where you would love him back?

He tries his best to push these feelings away. But he just can't help it, i mean why you gotta be so beautiful and kind to him and your voice, gosh- but the more he tries getting his mind off you the more it hurts. Especially if he goes to drink at a bar and gets so drunk he ends up with someone next to him in the morning.

So instead he lets his obsession grew.

Oh you're shopping? He just happens to be there too! Don't question it, he'll start yapping and drags you with himself.

He invites you over more than usual. You wanna watch a movie? Play games? If he wins he gets a kiss- whoa what,who said that?

He'll wanna have sleepovers. Throw pillow fights and no he won't sleep on the floor, make some space for him. Incase you don't tell him to sleep on the couch he'll totally not creepily stare at you as you sleep. Sure he'll fall asleep,,eventually.

He gives you tiny hints that he loves you. But of course you won't really catch them, after all he acts freaky with everyone.

And by flirting i mean, putting a hand around your shoulder. Telling you that you are gorgeous and calling you nicknames. Showing you a heart with his hands and so much more.

If you let him he would love to hug you every now and then. Tho his hugs get longer and longer the more you let him closer to you.

Speaking of which, he'll let you see his face and know more about his past only after a longer time.

But even then, when he took off his mask and expected a disgusted look or a mean comment, you just smiled at him and reassured that he is beautiful inside and out. Can you be any more charming? He just fall head over heals all over again.

You laugh at his jokes and think hes cool? He is wordless.

He will try to kiss you through his mask and will do it if you don't push him away. "Smooch me!"

Sometimes he stares at you with out noticing.

His room is full of stuff that you gifted to him and photos of you (where he got it? Oh don't worry about it..)

And if you happen to be a hero/etc, he will have a plush and other merch of you around.

He'll even give you a mini version of himself. To keep you safe he says.

He loves to be around you and is overly affectionate.

He squishez his eyes into a smile upon seeing you. He'll wave at you and everything.

He'll draw you silly pictures (mostly the two of you holding hands and being lovey-dovey)

He also leaves you flowers.

If you say nice things to him it'll blow his mind. By nice i mean stuff like "You are cute!" Or "You're the best!". Yeah you really think so? His heart feels like its beating stronger.

He speaks before thinking rather often. He lets his stranger thoughts out. Such thoughts like "You're so hot". He stares wide eyed at you after. Then comes the awkward laugh, just laugh with him please.

Anyways get used to it cuz he'll make your life a living hell, or maybe heaven?

He would ask you to move into an apartment with him, and he won't stop asking that question. Wouldn't it be less lonely and more fun to have a roommate?

He just can't come up with a way to confess..maybe the job will do it itself? No Yes,yes it will Wade don't worry.

[snowballseal]

How they react to you having a lot of tattoos

LaDS X Reader

Anon Request: I was curious if you would be willing to write the boys reacting to a partner with a lot of tattoos? I feel like MC is pretty covered up and as someone with full sleeves and a large back piece, it’s always interesting to see how people react to seeing them.

Note: Y’all killing me with these fun requests 🥺 I love this. I only have a few minimalist tattoos, but I want MORE. Thank you for the lovely request, anon. The scenarios were fun to think of.

Word Count: who’s to say 🤷about 1000 each

---

Rafayel

The first time Rafayel sees your tattoos is when you go on a date to the beach. You’re not even thinking about it as you change in the bathroom. When you decided to become a hunter, you knew you would have to cover up your tattoos. The policy, while being outdated in your mind, isn’t all that bothersome since you prefer to wear long sleeves anyways.

So it never occurred to you that Rafayel had never seen the full expanse of the ink on your body.

Which is why, when you step out and his eyes go impossibly wide as he looks at you, mouth dropping open, you’re first and foremost confused.

“What?” 

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you feel an inkling of insecurity curl in your chest as you look down at your two-piece. It’s nothing immodest, just a blue bikini that you thought was cute and also met your standards for support. It’s a little frilly, but a part of you thought he’d love that. 

“Do you not like it? I don’t uh, I don’t have anything else to wear…” Your voice comes out uncharacteristically meek.

That seems to snap Rafayel out of his daze. The artist shakes his head, the tips of his ears going positively red, as he still can’t rip his eyes from the lines decorating your skin. He reaches out, tracing the gentle petals of a flower on your waist.

“How come you’ve never shown me these, cutie?” He asks, voice touched with awe.

Oh. Heat creeps up your neck. So that’s what he was on about. You glance down at your body. You suppose it is a little jarring. It’s not like you’re covered head to toe, but you’re definitely a well covered canvas. Both of your arms have partial sleeves that curl up around your shoulders and continue along your collarbone. A large collection of flowers adorns the right side of your waist, traveling down your hip and turning into a pattern of vines down your leg. You have a few other ones, some silly, some heavy with meaning.

“Sometimes I forget I have them,” you admit a bit bashfully. Rafayel gives a low hum and your breath catches as his fingers continue to trace the lines on your waist, his touch warm and ticklish. “I’ve had some of them since before I started training.”

“I have to say, I’m a bit jealous that another artist has touched your body,” he murmurs, voice dropping to something low. His hand slips around your waist, drawing you closer so he can trace his lips over the intricate ink on your collar bone, ocean eyes glinting up at you with something possessive yet overflowing with adoration. “But even I have to admit this is beautiful work. Befitting my queen.”

Your cheeks go warm. As red at the tips of his ears. There’s something so reverent about his touch and it makes your heart flutter wildly, but you’re all too keenly aware that you’re still in public.

Not that it stops you from poking the fish.

“Would it make you feel better to know my newest one is for you?” You ask, reaching to touch his cheek with a teasing smile.

Rafayel’s face lights up. He draws back immediately, looking over your tattoos like an eager child until he spots the fresher ink on your left leg. You stifle a giggle as he drops to his knees, fingers curling around your ankle to pull your leg off the ground so he can get a better look. 

“Rafayel!” You bark out a laugh, balance stolen away. It forces you to lean on him just so you don’t fall over. “Geez, I could have just sat down, you know!”

“This is for me?” Rafayel, oblivious to your complaints, grazes his fingertips tenderly along your skin.

Shaking your head, you give his hair a playful fuss, “Yes, you impatient fish. It’s not done yet, but it’s about us.”

It’s the beginnings of an ocean scene. A beach circles right above your ankle, depicting the silhouettes of two younger kids, their hands clasped in a promise. As the ink continues up your leg, it transforms into what looks like a night sky, but instead it’s water, swirling lines of blue and purple, full of schooling fish, one in particular standing out, bright red among the cool tones. A familiar symbol. And on the back of your calf swims a graceful looking figure, reaching for the light, edges blurred between fish and man and water.

A lump forms in Rafayel’s throat as he touches the red fish, a familiar warmths spreading across his chest as the same symbol glows faintly. Seeing it on you fills him with an emotion he can’t quite explain.

“You do realize what this means, right?” Those ocean eyes flicker up to you. They glint like dark pearls, iridescent and beautiful, yet carry a depth of emotion that makes your breath catch.

“I do,” you answer unwaveringly.

Rafayel’s lips pull into a small smile. He never expected someone to do something like this for him. Though, of course you would. And it’s beautiful.

“It’s a stunning piece,” he murmurs eventually, leaning forward to press a kiss to your knee, right above the ink, his hair tickling your thigh, “Though I still think the canvas is the most beautiful thing of all.”

A snort escapes you and you bite your lip, heat rushing back to your cheeks, “You’re ridiculously corny, Rafayel.”

“I know.” His smile shifts into a wolfish grin as he stands up, scooping you into a hug. You squeal as he spins you around, holding on tightly despite knowing he’d never drop you. It’s only when you’re positively red that he stops, his mirthful eyes watching your face. “It’s worth it if I get to see this face. I swear, cutie, if you do more things like this, I might become unbearable.”

“You never could,” you giggle and loop your arms around his neck, “Though, I was thinking maybe next time, you could come with me?”

Rafayel raises an eyebrow, “Oh? You want to get matching tattoos? I’ll admit, I’ve never considered it…but if it’s with you, I can’t think of anything more fitting.”

“You’ll have to design it, of course,” you hum, tone turning a little more excited, “Oh, I can’t wait! It’ll be so fun! We can do it the next time I take a break, and after swimming season, obviously.”

Leaning in, Rafayel gives you a short kiss, laughing against your lips, “Anything you want, my lady. As long as it’s with you, I’ll enjoy every minute of it.”

---

Zayne

The first time Zayne sees your tattoos is when you reunite at Akso. You’re not sure how long it’s been, having only seen him every so often at Grandma Josephine’s for dinner. All you know is that he’s been busy, and is now one of the most remarkable young doctors in Linkon.

And also your new primary care physician.

“Knock knock.” 

You rasp your knuckles lightly against the door to his office, eyes lingering on the nameplate displayed prominently beside it. A strange sense of pride swells in your chest. To think, your childhood best friend would reach such heights.

“Come in,” Zayne calls, voice as aloof as ever.

You slip into his office and let the door shut behind you. The doctor sits at his desk, flicking through a file on his tablet. You hesitate on the edge of his peripherals, not sure exactly what to do or how to act. It’s been a long time since you two have been truly close, not since- But you’ve missed him.

A lot.

“My apologies, my previous surgery ran longer than expected so I am still collecting your records.” You blink, his voice drawing you back out of your thoughts. “You may take a seat if you’d like.”

“Okay.”

Maybe you’re the only one who feels weird about it. He seems completely unaffected, like you’re a normal patient, ever the professional. You awkwardly drag a stool a little closer to his desk, just far enough to not seem weird and so it doesn’t feel like you’re looking over his shoulder.

After the silence goes a tick too long, you can’t help but break it, fingers fiddling nervously with your sweater, “How have you been, Doctor Zayne?”

A faint smile ghosts across his lips. You haven’t changed one bit. 

“I’ve been well, thank you for asking. Work has become quite constant, so I’m afraid I haven’t been able to accept many of Josephine’s dinner invitations.” His eyes dart over to you briefly before focusing back on his screen. “You look like you’ve been doing well since we last saw each other.”

“I have,” you chirp, anxiety easing up a bit, “I’m really close to being finished with training and finally joining the Hunters Association. You should try to make it to dinner this week though! Grandma really misses you. She talks about you all the time.” You falter, cheeks warming a little. “...We’re all really proud of you, Zayne.”

Zayne’s fingers freeze against the tablet. An indecipherable look crosses his face, but he schools his features quickly and gives you a small smile.

“Thank you…you both have always been so kind to me,” he murmurs and finally turns to face you, “I’ll try my best to make it to dinner this week.”

Your face lights up, excitement sparking in your eyes. “Okay! I’ll let her know! She’ll probably make all your favorites. They haven’t changed, right?”

Zayne shakes his head, and you can’t help but kick your feet giddily. It’ll be nice to catch up. You have so many questions, and also so many stories to tell from your training days.

“Now that those plans are made, shall we proceed with your exam?”

“Right, right.” You almost forgot that’s what you’re here for. Nerves coming back, you shuffle on top of the stool. “What do you need me to do?”

“First, if you would remove your jacket, I’ll take your blood pressure and listen to your heart,” he instructs, voice settling back into something professional and neutral.

As Zayne turns away to fetch whatever tools he needs, you make quick work of taking your jacket off. The room is a little chillier than you expect. You wrap your arms around yourself to chase away the goosebumps that erupt across your skin. Your eyes stay glued on Zayne though, watching as he pulls a stethoscope and blood pressure monitor from one of his drawers.

“Do you usually do exams in your office?” You ask offhandedly.

“Not usually. As a cardiothoracic surgeon, I don’t often conduct general exams,” he hums, cleaning off the blood pressure cuff with a sterile wipe.

“Am I special or something, then?”

“With the rarity of your protocore syndrome, I thought it would be most effective to handle your care myself, yes. Though if it makes you uncomfortable we can-”

Zayne’s words cut off as he finally looks back at you. Surprise flickers across his face.

You freeze like a deer caught in headlights, though you don’t know why. Is there something on your face? A stain on your tank top? You glance down, finding nothing of the sort.

“What? What is it? Do I have something on me?” Your hands flicker up to your face, but you don’t feel anything.

Zayne blinks and shakes his head as if coming out of a stupor. The lightest blush warms his ears.

“My apologies. I just wasn’t aware you had so many tattoos.”

Oh. Holding out your arms, you look over the expanse of ink on your skin. You guess it’s a lot. It has taken you a few years, but you’ve effectively covered your arms and shoulders in art. Most of it is florals, with small, meaningful symbols or items hidden in the foliage. You also have a few others, though they’re covered by your clothes.

“I guess you wouldn’t have seen them,” you hum thoughtfully, “I wear a lot of long sleeves to Grandma’s dinners. And work requires us to cover them up.”

“They’re quite intricate.” He sets his tools aside, drawing his chair closer to you. His hand reaches for your arm, but pauses, his eyes darting up to yours. “May I?”

“Go for it,” you whisper, feeling a little bashful now that his attention is focused solely on you.

His fingers graze your wrist lightly, as if he’s scared to press too hard. You watch as he silently turns your arm over, taking in every minute detail of your tattoos. He lingers a little longer on the small, anatomical heart at the center of it all, surrounded by gentle jasmines. They’re incredibly well done, even he can see that, and they all look like they were done some time ago.

Something melancholic and sentimental settles in his chest.

“I remember when you were just a little girl, crying over her popsicle…You truly are all grown up now, aren’t you?” His voice is thick with something you can’t quite pinpoint, his touch turning impossibly tender as he traces the lines up your elbow.

Your heart flutters a little too wildly for your likings. “You’re all grown up too, mister chief cardiac surgeon. That’s a lot bigger than some tattoos.”

Another smile pulls at his lips, breaking his impassive facade.

“These have all healed well, though,” Zayne says, a spark of mischief flickering in his eyes as that strange emotion recedes, “You must have taken good care of them, and that alone is an impressive feat for you. That’s how I know you’ve grown up.”

A mock gasp escapes you and you pull your hand away to press it against your chest. If only to break the contact so he doesn’t notice your racing pulse.

“Doctor Zayne, I am deeply offended at your insinuation,” you insist vehemently, “I am a responsible person, soon to be an amazing hunter! I know how to take care of myself.”

“Says the woman who walked on a sprained ankle for a week out of pure stubbornness.”

“How was I supposed to know it was sprained?”

“I told you it was.”

---

Xavier

The first time Xavier sees your tattoos is after a mission that doesn’t go quite right. You come home with a bandage wrapped around your shoulder and chest, and the added instructions to change the gauze once a day. Which, of course, you can’t do yourself.

“Xav?”

Xavier glances up from where he’s sitting in the sun, a book long forgotten in his lap. Those sleepy blue eyes land on you questioning. You shuffle awkwardly in the doorway, a roll of gauze in your hand.

“Would you help me real quick?” You mumble, a soft blush warming your cheeks, “I can’t uh, I can’t change them myself.”

“Of course,” he hums immediately, standing and stretching languidly, much like a cat. “I am at your service, my lady.”

“Thanks,” you sigh, shoulders sagging, which sends a twinge of pain down your arm.

It was a nasty cut. You had been so focused on fighting one wanderer that you hadn’t noticed another smaller one appearing behind you. It was your fault, and thankfully it didn’t hit anything serious, but it was in just the right place to make moving your arm difficult.

Xavier silently leads you back into the kitchen. Taking the bandages from your hand, he pulls out a chair and motions for you to sit. You do so carefully, not wanting to jostle your body too much. The hunter sets the gauze aside and kneels down in front of you, his fingers finding the hem of your sweater and pausing, placid blue eyes turning up to you in question. 

Ever the gentleman.

A tiny smile pulling at your lips, you offer him a small nod. That’s all he needs to pull it off, his hands moving slowly, with the utmost care. Thankfully, the room isn’t too cold, the setting sun pouring through the window and warming the space. The fabric musses your hair as he slips it over your head, and you instinctively reach up to fix it.

Completely missing the way Xavier’s eyes go wide as he looks down at you.

There aren’t a lot of things that catch the hunter off guard. But the ink covering your skin certainly does. Even with the bandages, he can tell it’s expansive, curling around your shoulders, dipping down your upper arms, painting the entirety of your back. It’s reminiscent of Starry Night, hundreds if not thousands of strokes forming delicate lines that follow the natural curves of your body, flowing so beautifully that they practically beg his fingers to trace them.

And as always with you, Xavier has a startling lack of self-control.

You blink at the feeling of his fingers grazing your uninjured shoulder. His touch is so light, you could almost mistake it for a breath. Almost like he’s worried he’ll hurt you.

“Is something wrong?” You ask, voice twinged with concern as you try and twist to look at where his touch lingers against your skin.

“Stay still,” Xavier orders gently, and you freeze, brows arching in confusion. Realizing you're panicking a little, the hunter leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, offering a soft explanation, “You never told me you have so many tattoos. I simply want to appreciate them.”

“Oh.” Your nerves fizzle out, replaced with an embarrassed tinge of excitement. So that’s what this is about. “I forgot I haven’t shown you them yet. I guess I’m so used to them that I forget they’re there, especially since I have to cover them for work.”

Xavier shifts behind you, fingers following the lines over your shoulder. They bleed into a wash of color, dark blue and purple and pink splashes across your back. A small planet of light sits between your shoulder blades, numerous stars dancing around it. His touch lingers on the planet, a flicker of light spilling from his fingers as his evol reacts unprovoked.

“What made you choose this?” He asks, voice wavering imperceptibly. 

“I’m not sure,” you hum, shrugging your good shoulder, “I’ve always liked space. My grandma used to take me to the planetarium a lot when I was young, and I used to have dreams about it, of floating between planets and exploring the stars. I always felt drawn to this one planet, it was so pretty and it looked like it was made of light, but I could never reach it…”

Philos.

Something twinges in Xavier’s chest. How strange. You don’t remember the planet, that’s for certain, yet some part of you was still connected to it. To your home. To him. All this time…

“It’s beautiful,” he all but whispers.

Heat tinges your cheeks. That’s not usually what people say. It’s not for everyone, you know that. It’s a lot of ink, but you dreamt for so long about getting it. Still, most people usually just make offhand comments, not exactly rude, but not exactly compliments either. Like, oh that must have hurt a lot. Or, you must have saved a lot of money, huh?

Never beautiful.

And yet Xavier traces your ink with what almost feels like admiration. It makes your heart flutter with an uncharacteristic shyness, shoulders jolting up to your neck.

That’s when you remember your injury.

Letting out a low hiss, you drop your shoulder quickly as pain sizzles down your arm. Both of you had practically forgotten about it, caught in the moment. Xavier’s brow furrows again, an apology floating past his lips as he draws his fingers away - much to your disappointment.

“It’s okay,” you breathe, offering him a weak smile, “I just pulled it a little funny. We should probably check it, though.”

“Alright, I’ll be gentle,” he murmurs as he reaches for the edge of your bandage.

“...Thanks, by the way.”

You’re not sure what exactly you’re thanking him for. Helping you or his sweet reaction to the art decorating your skin. Maybe both.

And Xavier must know. He leans down, lips ghosting over your shoulder is an adoring kiss.

“Of course, my star.”

---

Sylus

The first time Sylus sees your tattoos is, of course, on the night you attend the auction. There’s no hiding the ink covering your body when you’re wearing a dress, after all. If anything, though, you think they’ll help you fit in a little better in the N109 Zone.

And you love the reaction Sylus gives you when you step out into the foyer.

For the briefest moment, his eyes go wide. Shock, perhaps the rarest emotion you’ve never had the pleasure of seeing on him, flashes behind those carmine eyes. In an instant, it disappears though, hidden with his usual cocky expression, one of his fine brow ticking up in amusement.

“I’ll admit, sweetie,” the man hums, “You’ve surprised me.”

You flash him a cat-like grin, satisfaction burning deep in your veins, and give a little theatrical spin, “Not what you were expecting, huh?”

Hardly a single part of your body remains untouched by ink. Most of the designs are artistic. Flourishing lines twisting and curling around your muscles, strangely reminiscent of the form his evol takes. They form a network of delicate webs across your body, sometimes forming shapes, sometimes with words written along the fine linework. 

It’s hauntingly beautiful. Sylus can’t help but let his eyes slowly rove over your form, taking in every detail. They’re like a map, and his fingers are itching to explore every part of you, to see just how far the ink slips below the hem of the dress. A dress which he bought for you yet can’t be bothered to even notice now, not with such a dazzling sight set before him.

“Who knew the kitten would turn into a tigress at night,” he murmurs, voice going low and teasing as he slowly circles around you, a predatory glint in his eyes.

Your boldness wavers. 

Sylus always seems to have that effect on you. Like a lamb straying from the herd and being found by the wolf. Prey before a predator starved, maw open and hungry, as if he could consume you whole. And all you can do is hold your ground, even if your legs shake, like that little lamb’s.

“Careful, Sylus,” you whisper, trying to appear unshaken by not following him with your eyes, despite the unease you feel not knowing exactly where he is, “This tiger has claws.”

You feel more than hear his presence come up behind you. A shiver traces down your spine when his breath skates over your ear, warm and far too intentional. In the same way, his fingers trace reverently down your arm, following the path of your ink, until they can intertwine with yours and draw your hand up to his lips.

“And that’s how I prefer you.” His voice is low, a mere rumble against your skin as he kisses your knuckles. Another shudder. “After all, it would be a shame to declaw such a beautiful creature. Even if she likes to scratch.”

God, you hate him.

You hate that it takes everything in you to rip yourself away from his enticing warmth. You hate that your heart is racing against your ribs, like it’s trying desperately to escape. And you especially hate the absolutely smug grin that plays on his lips (and the fact that you want to kiss it so badly).

“You’re teasing me,” you breathe unsteadily, putting space between the two of you.

Something dark flashes in his eyes, “Whatever do you mean, sweetie? I was merely giving you a compliment.”

“Then you give weird compliments,” you fire back, arms wrapping around yourself. “It sounds more like you’re making fun of me.”

Sylus pauses. Those ruby red eyes narrow on you thoughtfully, his lips pressing into a thin line. A tick of silence. Then his expression smoothes into something almost soft, and he takes a few measured steps towards you. Long fingers graze your palm again. A question.

And you give in far too easily, not fighting as he intertwines your fingers once again. His other hand skirts along your exposed shoulder, following the lines of your tattoo as they fade at your neck. You’re frozen under the sudden tenderness of his touch, your pulse racing against his fingertips.

“My apologies, kitten. That wasn’t my intention,” he murmurs, eyes boring into yours with an unnerving genuineness, “I simply meant that your tattoos are...befitting of your character. You are truly…” He looks you over once more, his gaze leaving a tantalizing heat in its wake. That dangerous smile curls his lips again. “Captivating.”

You inhale shakily.

No one has said something like that to you before. Not that you can remember, at least. It would sound cheesy from someone else, but from Sylus? The intensity of his tone leaves you feeling as unsteady as your heart. Lightheaded.

All you can do is blink up at him, eyes wide and doe-ish. No smart retort or comeback. Your mouth, in fact, feels remarkably dry. It fills the man with a touch of pride, rendering you so speechless.

Not one to let you stay dumbfounded for too long, though, Sylus lets out a smooth chuckle and taps your chin, “Careful, sweetie. If you look at me like that, I might just think you’re falling for me.”

Which of course works. Because he knows you better than you know yourself.

“I am not!” You squawk, face going up in flames. “You just surprised me, that's all! I didn’t know you were capable of such niceties.”

Sylus grins, drawing away as you swat at his hand, “Then it seems that we’re even.”

You scowl at him. So not fair.

“Now, would you like to accompany me to this auction, sweetheart?” He offers his arm. You keep your pout up for only a few seconds before giving in and slipping your hand around his elbow begrudgingly. Sylus hums in amusement, leaning in to press a ghost of a kiss against your cheek. “Looking like this, you’ll have no trouble getting the results you’ve been searching for, tonight. You’ll be the perfect distraction, my dear.”

“Well then, let’s not keep them waiting, shall we?”

---

Not gonna lie, Sylus' was probably my favorite. In my head I was kind of picturing the tattoos that Anthony Padilla has (from smosh, yes, sue me), and I just think he would totally call you a tiger since he likes calling you kitten.

Hope y'all enjoyed!

I'm really feeling some angst next possibly...

[lynnuvo]

Puppy Love ( ૮ ˶ˆ ﻌ ˆ˶ ა )

Characters: Monoma Neito x Female (Y/N)

How you managed to grow attracted to the loud, arrogant mascot of Class 1B is a mystery to your peers. This is so to even yourself, though you chalked it up to a "curiosity killed the cat" scenario. Over the course of your first three weeks of being in UA’s Class 1B, you decided to be the annoying cat poking at his side. It was hard to not pay attention to him, so why not make it fun?

He was a bit irritated at first. You were pretty sure he had some underlying insecurity because every time you mentioned him being scared of being outshone by Class 1A, he'd get into a hissy fit. You stopped talking about this as much when Kendo Itsuka indirectly hinted it'd be best to, but that didn't stop your other antics. You'd leave sticky notes of hilarious drawings about him on his desk, in his backpack, and in his shoe locker. You'd follow him around like a lost puppy in the building--sometimes to the bathroom door on accident. You'd pester him with questions too. There's been several occasions you asked about his favorite snacks or other items and got just as much the opposite as possible.

A few classmates joked that you were bullying him, but it wouldn't really be bullying if Monoma Neito eventually learned to save a seat for you in the cafeteria or keep the gifts you gave him despite not liking them, right? Would he have hated you if he'd ask to walk you home back before the dorms were built, chiding that someone as weak as you needed someone as strong as him? Did he really want you to stop pestering him if he sought out for you in the girl's section of the dorm watching TV in the living room for two hours? It was unusual you weren’t already a trumpet in his ear by that time, after all.

"What are you doing here?" Tokage Setsuna questioned when she exited her room to see Monoma walking down the hall in her direction. "You know the boys' section is on the other side, right?"

Monoma startled but settled his composure quick. "Yes, I know. I'm just looking for something. I seem to have lost it."

"So you're looking for it here?"

"Well, I haven't found it anywhere else yet. Perhaps someone picked it up and dropped it."

"What are you looking for?"

"Uh—a decorated blue hair pin. It's small but fits well with one of my polos."

"You wear hair pins?"

He scoffed. "Hair pins are an accessory not just for girls. It could be that someone on this side picked it up, thought it was cute, and kept it."

"Sure...." Tokage leaned her back against her door and crossed her arms. A smirk crept onto her face. "You sure you didn't lose anything else? Maybe someone with (your hair color) hair?"

"I'm sure."

"Well then, I'll help you look for this pin."

"Oh! No need!" Monoma replied, waving his hands in front of his chest. "I think I can find it on my own. Even if I don't find it, I can easily buy another one later."

Tokage's smirk grew into a wide grin. "Come on, it's better to search with two pairs of eyes instead of one!"

"Really, thank you, but—!”

"Monoma-kun?"

The two turned to a door further down the hall that just opened. Out came you in your pajamas, hair a bit of an entangled mess. A yawn escaped your lips. "Do we have class today?"

"No, we don't. And what are you doing just now getting out of bed?!" He hurried over to you and brushed some hairs from your face. "It's 3 in the afternoon, for goodness' sake!"

You furrowed your brows. "'m sorry. I slept in."

Tokage watched him chide you for wasting the morning away. It was comical how both of you denied romantic feelings for each other, and yet here you two were acting like a relationship was in progress. Her stomach suddenly growled. She pushed herself off her door. "I'm gonna get some lunch. Good luck. (Y/N)-chan, Monoma said he lost a blue hairpin. Why don't you help him find it? See you guys!"

After bidding Tokage goodbye, you looked up at the blond boy. "You wear hair pins?"

"Well—sometimes! Not recently, just—uh—on occasion. But no matter! I can buy another one some other time!" Monoma bumped your shoulder, urging you forward. "Hurry and get ready for the day. I'm so awfully bored."

You chuckled. "Aww, you missed me?"

"As if!"

You and Monoma's dynamic was fun and rather straightforward at first—an enemies to friends type of dynamic. Most of the class could see through the teasing that you two cared about each other and enjoyed each other's company. Overtime, however, you found yourself growing frustrated with the boy. Weeks of being by his side made your heart grow fond of him, but he didn't state anything of the same effect your companionship had on him. When you teased that he loved you or missed you, he shut it down fast. Although not out of character, it began to hurt you.

After an in-depth confession to Kendo in her room (and a small moment of you crying on her shoulder), she messaged you the next day to go on hangouts with her after school every other day with Hiryu Rin. She mentioned in the text conversation that she believes some time away from Monoma might help. You agreed.

You and Rin were good friends, but you two never hung out or talked outside of classes and when you both happened to be in the same vicinity. The first day all three of you hung out started a little awkward, but it became an entertaining pasttime quick. You three hung out at an arcade, at coffee shops, in the gym training, and even on runs to the grocery store. When you three didn't feel like going outside, you guys would sit on the floor in front of the TV and parallel play.

When the dorms were established, Monoma walked by your side with the rest of class to the dorms. With you on hangouts immediately after school now, he bid you, Kendo, and Rin a simple farewell and continued chatting with the rest of your classmates. A pang hit your heart upon his nonchalant goodbye, but you shoved it down. Once the three of you returned, you'd hangout with him and a few others in the dorm after settling down.

So imagine your surprise when a knock sounded on your door two hours after you returned from another fun hangout with Kendo and Rin. You hadn't been expecting anyone since you planned on resting in that day, so you were especially not expecting Monoma to be standing there when you popped the door open a tad.

He looked at you sternly. "Can we talk?"

"Oh—uh—sure," you replied, caught off guard by his unusual facial expression. You welcomed him inside and gestured for him to sit on your desk's chair, which he did so as you shut the door and sat on your bed. Your fingers fiddled with the blanket beneath you. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Do you like Rin?"

Your shrimp posture was no longer as you shot up. "What?! No! I mean, he's a great friend, but I haven't thought about...like...dating him yet."

"Yet?"

"I mean it like I didn't consider it!"

He pulled out his phone, opened a text message thread, clicked on an image to expand it, and showed it to you. "What's this?"

It was a selfie Kendo took of you, Rin, and her on a grocery store run. The angle was pointed down at the group, with only Kendo's eyes coming into frame while she held the phone up. Not realizing she was taking a selfie until the picture was taken, you and Rin stood side by side picking avocados. You had to admit the side profile of you and Rin's laugh was kind of adorable, but you were pulled from reminiscing that day by Monoma clearing his throat.

You backed away from the phone. "This happened last week. Why are you bringing it up?"

"You and Rin look awfully close." He put his phone away and crossed his arms. Contrary to the indication of his body language, his face softened as well as his tone. "You know, if you like Rin, you can tell me. I just want to know."

"Why?"

"Well, since we both hangout a lot, I wouldn't want to interfere with your time with him. Maybe you two could—I don't know—I could offer him my seat in class from now on so you two can get to talk more."

You shook your head. "It's fine, really! Me and Rin can talk after class."

He got up from your chair and laughed, rolling his eyes. "Then you two can talk during class as well. A desk is just a desk, after all. I'll tell him to switch seats with me after dinner."

Once he started heading for the door, you jumped from your bed and snatched his wrist, trying to pull him back. "Monoma, stop! It's okay, really! I don't mind!"

He wretched his wrist free only for you to grab it again. "And I don't mind playing matchmaker for my dear friends, believe me."

"Stop! Please don't!"

"I like sitting with you! Trust me, it's okay!"

"Yes, but it'd be a good idea to help you with your love ordeal."

Escaping your grasp once more, his hand fell on the door handle and his shoulder touched the door. In a last ditch effort, you threw your arms around his shoulders and pulled him back in. "I LIKE YOU! STOP!"

And that he did.

Time skipped a beat before he backed away from the door, turning wide-eyed to look at you. Tears rested on your waterline. After darting his eyes around the room, Monoma hurriedly guided you to your bed again. "I'm so sorry, please don't cry."

"I like you! I've been liking you!" you whined as you clung onto Monoma's shirt despite him trying to lay you down. He gave up and embraced your body in one hand while patting your back with the other. You buried your face in his neck. "I told you I like you!"

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize you liked me so much." He shushed you for a while before adding, "I shouldn't have questioned you this way. I'm so sorry. Please don't cry, (Y/N)-chan."

"I already am..."

"Oh. Right."

Needless to say, Monoma was not the best source of comfort. But he did his best. Once your breathing calmed down, he sat behind you and rested you against his body. You couldn’t bear the thought of him seeing you cry, so you were grateful when he passed you a tissue. After wiping your face and tossing the tissue in the trash can, you leaned your head against his chest. His heart raced; you could feel it.

Monoma’s hands wrapped around both of yours. “I’m so sorry.”

Heat rushed to your face at the sight of your hands. A headache began to form in the back of your head. “It’s okay. I know you want to help me, but I really do like you. I have for a while.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because you didn’t look like you liked me back.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Um. You don’t really do anything romantic. Sure, we hang out a lot, but it just feels like hangouts as friends. Well, it did to me until I caught feelings, but you know what I mean. I just—I didn’t know what to do about these feelings.”

You raised your head and finally looked at guilty expression on his face. The question of whether he liked you back caught in your throat, but the twitches in his lips as he struggled to find the words to speak left a sinking feeling in your gut.

At last, he let out a sigh and squeezed you in an embrace. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do. Thank you for—uh—for thinking of me so, but I need to figure out how to go about this. Can you give me some time to respond properly?”

You squeezed him back. “Yes, of course.”

After sitting in your room for a good five minutes doing nothing but holding each other, Monoma exclaimed he needed to help prepare dinner downstairs and excused himself. You cursed yourself in your head for confessing in such a way. But there was no turning back now.

At dinner, you both sat next to each other as normal, but conversation was awkward, to say the least. Neither of you could properly look the other in the eye despite briefly talking about subjects unrelated to the incident. For most of the meal, you both opted to talk to other peers. Things were not so different in class. Despite sitting beside each other, you two spoke little. You couldn’t bring yourself to tease him after the fool you made of yourself, and it felt like Monoma was distancing himself despite the fact that he still sat next to you at lunch and walked beside you on the way to the dorms.

Kendo Itsuka messaged you only three days later, questioning what on earth happened. You told her about the incident, and the next thing you knew, Kendo barged into your room professing apology after apology. She explained that although she did want to give you space from Monoma, another purpose of the hangouts with her, you, and Rin was to make Monoma jealous. She’d gotten the idea from movies but hadn't expected this outcome. You forgave her and thanked her for her efforts. After all, you could see the potential. It was unfortunate Monoma was not like the guys in her movies.

A week passed. The awkward silence was getting unbearable. You really wished you’d demanded a deadline for his consideration.

For once, your bedroom felt suffocating, so while other students opted for the privacy of their rooms, you sat on the couch watching a drama on a very casual day. You were pretty bored until footsteps sounded behind you. You turned your head to see Monoma. You moved your legs off the couch and watched as he sat beside you.

He nodded. “Hey.”

“Uh—hi.”

You both faced the TV. After a week of this, all you two could muster was a simple greeting? You internally cringed. It was enough to suffer through silence with others around. Why would he come down just for this?

You soon found out why as you felt something on your hand—that something turning out to be Monoma’s hand. Your heart pounded faster. “What are you doing?”

He turned to you and sputtered, “I—um—nothing.”

Before he could remove his hand, you snatched it and held it firmly. His admittedly cute, nervous face fueled your nearly dead desire to tease him. “Monoma-kun, there’s no way you could have accidentally done that.”

“Well—I—!” He pursed his lips then shook his head. “I’m not used to this.”

“We’ve never held hands before.”

“I mean romance, stupid!” He scowled, lifting your conjoined hands and shaking it as if it was an obvious clue in a murder mystery. “I tell you I need to think it over. Then, I am holding your hand! What do you think that means?!”

Your eyes widened. “You…like me?”

“Come on! I’m leaving.”

Before he could get up, you lurched forward and took a hold of his arm. “Monoma-kun, no! You have to say it! Tell me if it’s a yes or no. Please?”

After a moment of continuing to look away, he finally turned to face you again with furrowed brows. “I like you. I have also been for a while now.”

“AWW, YOU LOVEEE ME?”

“I’M LEAVING!”

“NO! I’M JUST KIDDING!”

Joy couldn’t even begin to describe how you felt. Apparently so didn’t it describe Monoma’s feelings because despite numerous statements of saying he’d leave, he buried himself further into your company until he ended up lying with his head in your lap, still holding your hand.

You still needed to figure out whether you two were going to officially date right after this, but that can wait. Only this time, you were going to make sure he compensated for the overthinking your situation has caused.

[mochinomnoms]

Scenario: Some small item from the prefect's home world ends up in NRC. For example, my brother found a local brand of soda when he was out of our country for a few years. It made his whole week.

Option 1: Octotrio finds this item and know the significance of it. How do they give it to their dear prefect?

Or if option 2, if you want jealous Octotrio: Another student else gives the item to the prefect, and they are seething over how happy someone else made the prefect.

(sorry this is self-indulgent and I think im funy)

“A bottle of Mexican coke gets launched out of a wormhole and thunks them in the head. What is it? They have no clue, it looks like a soda, but they don't recognize the brand, logo, or anything really. It says Hecho en Mexico” on the side, though...wait! Isn't that a place from your homeworld? You'll love this!

“Ain't that the soda Shrimpy is always raving about?” Floyd was rubbing the side of his head that the glass bottle smacked into. It hurt like hell, and Jade hiding his laughter at his misery.

“Stop laughin', Imma bite you.”

“Fuhu, sorry Floyd.” Jade managed to clear his throat and straighten. “You just collapsed on the ground like a rag doll, it surprised me.”

“Yeah, how about I take that bottle and smack you up the head with it? We can see who looks more like a rag doll then”

“Think you could?

“Know I could.”

“I bet you can't”

“I bet I can, you fuc—”

Azul cleared his throat, drawing both of their attentions as he held the bottle in his hands.

“If you two would like to save the Cain instinct for another day, I do believe that we can garner the Prefect's favor with this.”

Both perked up, sharing a knowing look before smirking.

“Good point,” Jade replied, walking over to Azul to admire the bottle. “They have been shyer since our last outing with them, this would be a good opportunity to—”

“Floyd swiped the bottle from their hands and started a brisk jog as he called out, I got hit with it, so I get to take all the credit and all of my Shrimpy's love!”

“FLOYD!” Both chased after him, a loud, familiar cackle ringing through Main Street and everyone's ears.

You were none the wiser, chilling in your room with peace and quiet for once, as Grim was out with Epel in the Spelldrive Club. You gave it 1 hour before Leona got tired of him and sent him back to you.

Your peace was interrupted upon hearing the banging on your front door. Groaning, you got up and made your way to the entryway.

“I swear to God! Ace! If you're crashing here again, I'm getting you a literal doghouse!” You yelled out, huffing, as you swung the door open and instead found Floyd trying to wrestle a bottle of something from his grasp.

It was quite amusing, as Azul's grip wasn't even budging while Floyd pulled with all his might. Only Jade, who was on Azul's right, noticed you and smiled.

“Hello Prefect, how are you?” Jade nodded his head with a polite smile. “We apologize for the sudden intrusion, but we have something for you—”

“No, I found it! I have something for them!” Floyd whined, keeling over as Azul finally gabbed a harsh elbow into his ribs.

“You got hit in the head, I hardly count that as 'finding' it.” Azul gave you a pleasant smile, though you were wary of what the trio wanted from you to bring you something.

“We, all three of us, have a gift for you. We recognized it as something you've spoken about, and out of the kindness of our hearts, we decided to offer it to you in exchange for your time!”

“You snorted, glancing at the bottle in Azul's hands. Yeah, sure, 'kindness'. What's the point of a gift if—HOLY SHIT, IS THAT MEXICAN COKE?”

Azul stumbled backwards as you reached for the bottle in his hands, excitement gleaming in your eyes as you did.

“WHERE'D YOU GET THIS? ACTUALLY, I DON'T CARE! LET ME HAVE IT!”

Azul let out a yelp as you managed to pull the bottle from his hands, your eyes glittering and smile wide.

“You three don't know how bad I've been craving this since I've been here.” Sighing, you pressed the bottle, nice and cool, to your cheek in bliss.

“I would suck a man's dick for this shit, you don't even know.”

You froze at the choking sound in front of you, and snickering from the left and right. You noticed the light purple blush on Azul's cheeks and the pink ones on the twins. Jade was looking away, covering his mouth, but you could still see his lips quirk up. Floyd's snickering was growing into a full giggle.

“Ahem, I, ah, appreciate your enthusiasm for the gift. I'll keep that…in mind.”

“If he doesn't, we will. Isn't that right, Floyd?” Jade chuckled.

Floyd replied, “Oh for surrrre~ Say, Shrimpy?” Floyd leaned in, smile growing as he purred, “you up for offering that thank you?”

You backed away, face growing hotter as you pursed your lips. The twins laughed at you.

“Stop joking around! It was a joke and you know it!”

You could still hear the giggles from behind the door as you slammed it shut. However, you paused, hearing Azul murmur something to the twins and them quiet down. They sounded a bit disappointed, to be honest.

Sighing, you cracked open the door again, peeking out to the three. Azul was looking at you expectantly.

“Yes?”

“…Thanks. Do you guys wanna, uh, go out again this weekend? You said you wanted my time, in exchange, right?”

Azul visibly perked, giving you a closed eye smile as he nodded.

“Yes! How about we meet at 11am this Saturday at the gates? We can visit the town, you don't get to visit often, correct?”

“Yeah,” You smiled shyly. “Sounds good, I'll see you all then.”

“You pretended to not hear Floyd's whoop!” as you closed the door, chuckling to yourself.

“Weirdos. Cute ones, though.”

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

I know that there are a lot of feelings right now, and everyone is absolutely entitled to them. The announcement certainly hit hard.

I did, however, want to add a little bit of my own hope into the mix. Maybe it won't matter. But maybe it will help someone feel just a bit better about everything.

For context, someone on Reddit made an excellent point that 90 minutes is plenty of time to tell a great story. Many have been told in less than that. Lion King, Nightmare Before Christmas, Beauty and the Beast, Totoro, I could go on.

I completely agreed with them. But I also wanted to add my own personal spin as well.

When you really get down to it, the plot of season two was truly only compromised of 90 minutes worth of plot between A + C. Maybe even less than.

A lot of it was drawing out a mystery that didn't need to be as long as it was. As much as I love me some putzing and meandering, seeing this entire 90 minute drama go down has made me realize just how weak season two was.

Did I love it? Hell yes.

But I'm also realizing that the plot wasn't tight.

Most of the memorable moments are comprised of seconds of screentime.

Not minutes.

Seconds.

The touching of Aziraphale's hand to Crowley's chest

"Look at you, you're gorgeous."

Hands touching during dancing

The final speech and kiss

Michael Sheen's bitchy little eyebrow raise

Michael Sheen eye fucking Crowley every chance he gets

Just Michael Sheen's quiet, quick acting choices in general

When breaking it down, most of what mattered added up to less than 90 minutes, with the rest of it being unfocused and dithering.

Now imagine 90 minutes. 90 minutes of focus on these two characters. No chance for meandering, no opportunity to wander off. These two will be forced to confront their issues, their grief, their resilience, their LOVE with nothing to pull us away. There won't be time for side characters to take the focus. There won't be time to worry about other relationships or spending time apart.

This is going to be about them because it can't waste time on anything else.

AND ANOTHER THING.

I keep seeing people saying "90 minutes isn't enough time to tie up all the loose ends". And to that I say...

What loose ends?

We really only have two. The second apocalypse and their love.

And to those who say 90 minutes isn't enough to stop an apocalypse, I counter with; season 1 stopped it in 5 minutes while they stood on what was essentially a parking lot. And they were side characters at that point.

In conclusion: we will be okay. Would I have loved six episodes to watch them circle one another? Sure. But I have spent more time reading fanfiction of them than watching the actual show, and those writers have created better scenarios than Neil Gaimen ever could. The kind of stories that would make Terry Pratchett proud.

We will get what we need. Because the people who fought for this love these characters. And because David and Michael would personally square up with Jeff Bezos in a parking lot just to be able to lock lips on screen again and again in a cottage by the sea

We will be okay. More than that, we will thrive.♡🖤

❤.

[dunanana]

Birdie outfits/lore!

Heaven's songbird: Birdie's design during her imprisonment in the heavens, I made it more so it looks like she's more eye candy and mainly emphasizes her tails. She was born from a flaming egg in a far off island, frolicking among nature and generous with her miracles, she had no human form back then. It wasn't until she revived someone one day that heaven took notice of her, the immortals from the underworld submitted a complaint to the jade emperor and in return he had captured the bird with a golden rope and gifted her to the empress. She would use birdie's miracles whenever she wants (when birdie is noncompliant, more forceful means were used) running out of miracles were no problem since they could let her sleep and what is time for immortals?

She grew strong enough to attain human form eventually, still she longed to be free once more. That wish was then granted by drunk wukong rampaging thru the heavens and stealing her away to flower fruit mountain.

JTTW to Black Myth Wukong: Her stay in flower fruit mountain was short and sweet bonding with the monkeys and celebrating with Wukong but when Erlang came to take Wukong, she fled. She was afraid of being captured again and seeing her protector defeated and with her no fighting experience she had no choice. She found refuge in one of Erlang's temple that was abandoned and asked for protection when Erlang eventually found her. Erlang sympathized with birdie's plight, agreed to protect her from heaven's eyes in exchange for restoring the temple she's residing in now. After finding out about Wukong's imprisonment from him after a time, she decided to journey often to the mountain to feed Wukong peaches and other fruits and keeping him company while she does her tasks and this went on till Guanyin came by to inform Wukong of the journey. Birdie immediately volunteered to help come with them, when asked why birdie only said "To ask for my freedom" and Guanyin agreed. And of they go. At the end of the journey, she tried to confess her long held feelings but with Wukong so far in enlightenment, cannot return her feelings and ascended. Heartbroken but free, she took to travelling and after many years, came back to flower fruit mountain to settle. And to her surprise Wukong came back to live amongst them and Birdie felt her feelings come back like they never left. She could be happy just loving him from afar. It was peaceful till the events of black myth wukong then took place. She was in the mountain helping the remaining monkeys escape the slaughter and did not get to be in the final battle. Devastated, she mourned and vowed to help him and the other destined ones to revive him. But in time after witnessing failures after failure of destined ones, chose to give up before the current Destined One with Bajie needed her help once again. Will this time be different?

________ Post Game/Happy End?: This is her as the Queen of Flower Fruit Mountain as a happy ending 🤭❤️ I haven't really gotten to what happens here but this is a very what if scenario i thought I should draw.

Miscellaneous Outfits: Modern AU!

Formal phoenix outfit? 👀

THANK YOU FOR READING THIS FAR! I hope you like her and feel free to ask questions if you'd like ❤️

[lysreadsbookssometimes]

So I was thinking about the batmobile earlier and how they use it on patrol.

Wayne Manor and therefore the Batcave are pretty much on the edge of town and the bats use the batmobile/their other vehicles like bikes to get into the city.

Now when they are there, they move mostly by grapple or parcour. Which makes sense, you wouldn't really beat up a goon, get in the batmobile, drive three blocks and park it again. I assume they park it somewhere and then go on patrol.

A standard patrol is most likely circular, so they end up back at the batmobile. But what if they have to chase someone? Or something happens that draws them to the other side of the city? What if one of them gets injured and they need to be transported? The batmobile is parked somewhere, so what happens now?

I imagine the following possibilities:

1. The batmobile has self-driving capabilities. I can't really tell how good that would work in Gotham, and i don't know how that would work for the bikes.

2. There is a bat on batmobile-duty. They spend the patrol night chilling, watching tiktoks, reading a book etc. and just wait for a pickup.

3. There is a remote driving system, probably accessed by Oracle as well as the batcave. In the necessary moments Oracle grabs a controller and GTAs the Batmobile to the location.

4. There are Batmobiles hidden throughout Gotham and after such an incident happened, a few batkids need to go for a drive and pick up/drop off the various batmobiles at their spots.

I don't know which one is the most likely, and all of them have so much Batfam Chaos potential. Maybe all of them are true. Allow me to present some of these chaotic scenarios.

Red Robin, severly sleep deprived: *nearly hits a lamp post*

Batmobile: *avoids the post, speeds up* *steering wheel moves under his fingers*

RR: What?

Oracle, via comms: for the love of god just take a nap I'm taking you home

Nightwing, after a chase: great, now i need to walk like 5 kilometers to the car.

Red Hood: There is a batmobile in a garage like two streets down

NW: what?

RH: don't you have a map?

NW: a map of what?

RH: of the batmobiles

NW: what- no. No i do not. I will be having words with someone.

Batman, after patrol: There are still two bikes and a batmobile on the streets. Go pick them up.

Red Hood: alright, which one of you idiots is allowed to drive?

Nightwing: Damian put your hand down.

Gothamite: *crosses the street* *nearly gets run over by batmobile* *stares to see it driving off without a driver*

Phone: *beeps*

Text message: very sorry, still working on the self-driving. Have a coffee on me, heres a coupon code for batburger. -O

Red Hood: *peacefully reading a book, legs on the batmobile dashboard, a thermos of tea in the cupholder*

Oracle, via comms: Hood, Spoiler has been injured, i am sending you the adress for pickup.

Hood: How bad is it?

Oracle: Not life-threatening. She wanted to go on but Batman refused.

Hood: so she can wait a bit more.

Oracle: what?

Hood: They are about to have the big love confession and i am not waiting on that because B is overprotective.

Oracle: I just googled your book. Pick up Spoiler now or I will make you listen to Spoilers for the entire series.

Hood, starting the car: Jesus O no need for warcrimes

(I am fairly new in this fandom, if there is something in canon that i missed/got wrong please correct me)

[innerfare]

Mihawk Fluff // Angst Compilation 

Summary: A compilation of Mihawk angst and fluff from my multi character posts (You're Wounded, Type of Date, Paradise, Nightmares, I Love You, Kisses, Cuddling, You're Sick).

Genre: Fluff // Angst

CW: None // SFW

———

You’re Wounded: 

Sees to your wound without a word, making sure it’s disinfected and bandaged and receives proper care until its healed. Places a soft, quiet kiss atop your head, doesn’t say a word. Makes a mental plan to avoid similar situations in the future. 

Type of Date: 

He’ll take you on a private tour of a winery. You’ll sample expensive wines together and debate various flavors and aging processes (he’ll definitely judge you by your taste in wine). When you’re not in a heated debate, you’ll share light conversation, and after the sun sets, you’ll walk the fields together. He’ll steal a few kisses off you, too, and kiss your hand at the end of the night.  

Paradise 1: 

Waking up to fresh powder blanketing the ground and jumping out of bed, barely getting your boots and one of his coats on before you’re outside, romping through the snow. Falling into a snow bank with your arms out, giggling as you make a snow angel, grinning even wider when he surprises you by laying down beside you and doing the same, letting his inner child show through for a brief moment. 

Paradise 2: 

Waiting until late evening to meet beneath a peach tree, speaking at first in hushed tones, worrying someone is on to the two of you, eventually forgetting about all of that and settling into easy conversation about nothing and everything simultaneously, him jumping up to pick a peach for you to have as an evening snack, you taking advantage of the last bit of light to carve both of your initials into the tree trunk. 

Nightmares: 

He sent you away for your own good. He had a premonition the Navy would be coming for him, and with them, a slew of bounty hunters that would have no qualms about using you against him. And yet, you remained in his dreams, though the hot and heavy ones he once had were replaced by cold fear. Every time he went to sleep, a different scenario, though the crux of it the same: you were being used as a pawn to get to him, a pawn in a lot of pain. And every time he woke up, the same: your side of the bed was empty, the shape of your body tangled in those satin sheets now but a memory. For your own good, he kept reminding himself, though he believed it less every time.  

I Love You: 

He doesn’t tell you when he feels it, however overwhelming the feeling may be, so you’ll definitely be the one to say it first. This man is the king of unspoken affection. He’d sooner die than draw his sword and cut through all the tension that seems to follow him. That being said, he does say it in other, more subtle ways, primarily referring to you as, “my love,” and leaving it at that. When you finally tell him you love him, he doesn’t even say it back, simply burying his face in your hair and saying, “I’m glad to hear it, my love.” He shocks you by saying it back a few months later, though you don’t say it back, instead pulling him in for a kiss. And it continues like that, only one of you ever saying it, the other responding with affection. 

Kisses: 

So sensual when he kisses you. Mihawk is an incredible kisser, thanks to a lot of practice in his youth, though these days he’s far more picky about who he chooses to kiss. Almost always has his hands on your face when he does it. Often runs his tongue across your lips before pushing it into your mouth. Will talk to you between kisses, telling you how much he missed you and calling you, “my love,” or, “my little bird.” Very into hickies, particularly in private places. Goes a little crazy if you kiss his hands, especially if you play with them first (foreplay is important). 

Cuddling: 

He’s not clingy, but he’s also not one to withhold affection. When he feels like showing it, he does. Sometimes this is putting a hand on your hip and placing a kiss on your cheek while you’re cooking, and other times it’s pulling you into his arms and kissing the top of your head while you’re asleep but he’s still awake contemplating life. Any sort of cuddles are always accompanied by a kiss of some kind. 

You’re Sick: 

It’s easy to think he’s not taking care of you. You don’t see him at your side the entire time you have a fever, but as you fade in and out of consciousness, you’re aware of a presence, and the times you wake, you find a hot meal or some fresh flowers on your bedside table. When you finally have the strength to rise, you’ll find him in his chair reading the newspaper as if nothing happened. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[eevees-hobbies]

i can NOOOOT get *your* suo out of my head like, i gotta ask a question abt him,, ok so we know he likes to share his yummy gfs pussy but does this include without permission 👀 like say she comes home and surprises him with her pussy already creampied by someone else (and making him guess who by the taste ughhhh), would he be more upset or turned on? Im just wondering where they draw the line bc we know suo has all the power 😍. Or like how did he even bring up sharing her first, what a conversation to be had lol!

I sent a rq under this name but im 🍒 anon btw!!

Hi, 🍒 Anon! I love your mind and that you can’t stop thinking about Suo because that’s precisely how he’d like you–as obsessed with him as he is with you! And, yes, I’ve seen your other ask! I’m hoarding it until I can give it the attention it deserves! I may have written a scenario below to answer your question. I am so sorry!! I am sometimes not good at being brief, but I always get super into anything involving Suo because deep down, this man has me in a-.

Content Warning: Fem!Reader x Hayato Suo. Togame remains the villain in my fics (sorry, sweet boy!). Cheating by anyone else standards but consented infidelity by Reader and Suo’s (they match each other’s freak), cuckolding for Endo and Sugi, one instance of a smack to the thigh, dirty talk, degradation, dacryphilia, Suo knows you better than yourself, be prepared to hear Suo's inner thoughts because he is stressed, obsessive/worshipping kind of love, pussy inspection with fingers, cum eating, mentions of threesomes. Tis smut! Minors Do Not Interact. 

Word Count: 2K

Story banner by me. Divider by Saradkia

Now, let's get into it, myes? You have some great questions about Suo and his girlfriend, who are an interesting couple. I think that some Wind Breaker men are built so differently that eating another man’s cum out of their girlfriend’s pussy would seem appealing or something that they would consider.

Endo, for example, is spreading you open and wide to lap Takiishi’s cum out of your sloppy, abused cunt without a second thought. In fact, he thinks you’re at your most delicious when Takiishi has already had his fun with you, and he eagerly takes his seat between your thighs to taste his favorite person and his girlfriend.

Sugishita isn’t necessarily into sharing, but he wouldn’t fault you if you were enamored by Umemiya—because, duh, why wouldn’t you be? It doesn’t strike him as odd that you let Umemiya hit it raw, and of course, Sugishita would be more than willing to help clean you up with his tongue.

But Suo? Yeah, sharing you doesn’t bother him in the slightest—your pleasure is his pleasure after all, but he’d much prefer to take a supporting or leading role in your sexual liaisons with his friends. That’s why I have always written them as engaging in the pleasures of the flesh together because Suo needs to be with you as you experience every ounce of pleasure–you two, after all, are simply one-half of the same beating heart.

The idea of you getting fucked by anyone and him not being present to watch does not sit right with his soul. 

He needs to be there to provide instructions to your lover because he knows your pleasure better than anyone else–including you–ever could. He needs to be there to deliver quick quips aimed at you so he can see how your flustered eyes dart away from him. He needs to be there to offer whispered words of praise and gentle touches to build you up as he guides your hips in a rocking motion while you ride your temporary lover's cock like the goddess you are. 

He wants to see the way your eyes roll back into the back of your skull when the tip of Umemiya’s cock pushes past the entrance of your tight cunt with a pop, his length bottoming out in you immediately.

“Aw, come on, sweet girl, don’t get that fucked out expression just yet; we’ve only just started.”

Suo wants to see the way you blush when Nirei moans desperately into the sweat-slicked skin of your back as he takes you from behind.

“Isn’t that cute, pretty girl? Nirei really can’t help thanking you for getting to try out your sweet cunt. I bet it’s the best he has ever had.”

And Suo wants to watch you swallow and lick up every single drop of Sakura’s cum no matter where it lands: on the bed sheets, on the floor, or even on Suo’s cock. Wow! How did it land there?

“Looks like you better get on your knees, dove, and clean up the mess you both made.”

To imagine himself absent, not being the one to finish you off, and not being the last one to leave his mark inside of you makes him feel like he just might lose his grip on reality.

Because you need him, don’t you? Your temporary lover can only do so much for you, but the one who makes you scream until your throat burns and your voice cracks isn’t Nirei, Umemiya, or Sakura. No, the one who makes you quiver and shake while he holds you in his arms as he strokes your hair after a particularly intense session is Suo. 

Truly, it’s how you bond, so how could you do it without him? It’s like if you were binge-watching your favorite TV show with your partner, and then you come back the next day and they had continued to watch without you! That shit fucking hurts! It’s a betrayal to Suo–just not for the same reasons as it would be to those of us who are more “traditional” in our way of thinking.

So if he comes home to find you with a mischievous glint in your eyes as you tell him you have a surprise for him, he’ll be delightfully curious—were you thinking of him enough to plan a surprise? You shouldn’t have, but of course, he’s glad that you did! 

At first, he’d smirk, approaching you while already unbuttoning his pants. As you spread your legs, his eyes would travel down to the thick, white seed that would be oozing out of you, and despite his usual stoic demeanor, you’d notice the unmistakable but slight clench of his jaw. 

Suo knows what reaction you’re trying to get out of him, and he’s more than willing to give it to you. You want him to lose control, to let his well-placed and perfectly maintained mask slip.

All because you’re a brat.

All because you want to be fucked within an inch of your life.

All because you seek discipline and a firm hand to remind you who is genuinely in charge.

Well, sorry, but this simply isn’t the type of behavior that Suo plans on rewarding. And tonight, your self-imposed limits on your body's ability to receive pleasure—and for how long—are not his problem or concern. Tonight, he plans on pushing you past what you think you can handle. Do you think you’ve seen the brink before? Tonight, the brink is the starting point. 

“I’m not hurt, just disappointed,” he’d start as his fingers would wrap around your ankles, his grip tight as he’d pull your entire body down the length of the bed and toward him.

“C-cliches, Hayato? You’re so much better than that-OW!” A sudden swat to your thigh gives you pause as you lift your ass a few inches off the bed in response to the sting, but that damn grip of his keeps you anchored.

“The only thing I want to hear out of your mouth unprompted is an apology. Now, who was it?” 

As you divide your plush lips to speak up–probably to say something that’s not in your best interest–you hesitate at the sight of Suo narrowing his eyes at you. Nothing but dangerous intent swirls behind ruby-toned irises, sending a shiver down your spine. But you know Suo, and he’s dangerous to everyone but you. To him, causing you pain would be akin to causing himself pain and he isn’t in the business of torturing the other half of his soul.

But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t plan on putting you in your place. Suddenly he’s hovering over you, his tassel earrings dangling in your face and tickling the gentle curve of your cheeks.

“W-who? Well…” you stammer, your eyes avoiding his sharp gaze.

While you’re wrestling with how honest you should be, he’s pushing two fingers deep inside of you, twisting his fingers to churn the cum in a way that feels violating. The sound of his fingers swirling the cum makes you blush because, between your heavy breathing, it’s the loudest sound in the room. 

“I knew she was greedy, but I had no idea you lacked self-control.” He pauses as the pace of his fingers pushing in and out of you quickens, and the squelches get more obscene. 

“Let’s see if I can figure it out. I know exactly how she feels after being ruined by each of our friends.” 

He’s not bluffing.

“Look how loud she is for me already. Was she this loud for…” he pauses as he goes down a mental list of who could have done this to you–and the duration of his pause makes your eyes narrow, and the tip of your ears heat up because now he’s being petty.

“Sakura?”

The way you snort lets him know he’s off base. Part of him is relieved it isn’t Sakura; his crush on you is borderline pitiful, and he wouldn’t want his friend to get the wrong idea. But if not Sakura, then who? Who would be brave–or stupid–enough to bypass him to get to you? 

As he twists his fingers inside of you, pulling a groan from your lips, his eyes linger on the way your nose scrunches up in pleasure and slight embarrassment. He leans in closer. “Tell me. Now.”

“I-it was Togame!”

Suo pulls back and looks at you like you just spat at him, making your heart speed up. His reaction is so visceral that you hold your breath in response. 

“Shishitoren trash?”

You wince; surely that beef was squashed long ago, you think. In some ways, it was, but there’s a bit of tension between Suo and Togame when it comes to you. 

Suo notices how Togame’s eyes sweep over you–as though he’s devouring you in his mind. Suo doesn’t mind the looking too much, but it’s the way Togame eye fucks you mercilessly and the way he somehow always manages to find excuses to touch and brush against you. 

He’s not threatened by his presence exactly, but the audacity of Togame pisses him off because not once has he asked for permission, not once has he approached him in the way that a gentleman would inquire about tasting what Suo considers his, not once-

Suo is snapped out of his spiraling as he notices your breathing has grown more rapid and your eyes glazed over long ago. Because, fuck, of course, he was still finger fucking you during his descent into madness. As you approach that oh-so-familiar edge, your toes curling in the way that tells him you’re close, he pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you feeling empty and anything but sated.

Your eyes snap open, their ferocity almost enough to make Suo forgive you right then and there and make you chant his name as he gives himself over to you–but lessons must be taught.

He holds the fingers up to your lips, the scent of Togame and yourself wafting into your nostrils and serving as a reminder of the intimacy you shared with him. Your bottom lip quivers ever so slightly and Suo drags his cum slicked fingers against your bottom lip, the sheen it leaves making you look so delicate, beautiful, and worthy of worship. His eyes flick down to your pout, lingering with an insatiable hunger that makes your core flutter. 

You can see his adams apple bob as he tries desperately to hold onto the thin thread of restraint threatening to snap. He can’t help but wonder if Togame got to see this side of you as he pushes his digits into your hungry mouth. You groan at the mixture of salty and sweet cum that coats your tongue and you can’t help but hollow your cheeks as you suck Suo’s fingers clean, your eyes never leaving his.

God and the way you twist your face in pleasure makes him want to lean in and taste your lips, allowing his tongue the privilege of experiencing what you taste like with another man’s essence on your tongue. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, and it’s a toxic mixture of possessiveness, fixation, and lust that makes him ache and throb for you.

He should have been there to watch you take Togame’s cock. He should have been there to revel in the way your hot, fat tears flowed down your face as he encouraged Togame to stick a thumb in your other hole. He should have been there to stifle your loud moans and gasps with his cock as Togame gave your greedy pussy deep, deep strokes. “Didn’t know you liked the dirty, skeevy appeal that Shishitoren offers. How did he fuck you? Tell me every single detail; I have all fucking night.”

And Suo does have all fucking night, and suddenly, so do you.

“You like being stretched out by Shishtoren cock? Maybe I should drop you off at the Ori and let the “Devotees of Power” have their way with you. How about Choji, hm? He’s a bit of a biter, you know, and I know how sensitive you are, darling; I don’t think you’d last very long” He grips your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look into his eyes. 

“I want to see every place where he touched you. I want to see where he touched what’s mine, so I can make you forget all about Jo Togame.” 

His eyes trail down, amused and pleased that you’re already obeying. Your fingers slip between your thighs as you watch his hungry gaze take in the way you spread your folds, and you know you have him exactly where you want him.

Anyway, 🍒 anon, this might be how it would go, but I wouldn’t make a habit of it because Suo has his limits, and I can’t promise he’ll be merciful next time. 

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