#if this inspires you to share something of your own

[creamflix]

toji fushiguro x female reader; heavy, heart-crushing angst, not a lot of comfort. reader is toji's second wife, megumi's step-mom. concept inspired by @/yunymphs nsfw fic, off your shoulders — masterlist here ☆

marriage is supposed to be a blessing, a bond that seals two lives into one, a promise of belonging.

you’d always dreamed of it.

sharing every first moment with someone — the first kiss as newlyweds, the first lazy morning dance in the kitchen, the first time lying side by side, tangled in each other. you’d imagined a life full of firsts, a life that would feel like you’re writing a story together, each page a piece of both of you.

but with toji, the man you love and who loves you, it feels like stepping into the middle of a book already written.

he’s had his firsts, some so precious that traces of them linger like shadows in your home. and you try — god, you try — to let that be enough, to love him and his son, megumi, with all the warmth and devotion you can muster. yet some days, you feel like you’re just outside their world, looking in.

it’s in the everyday moments, these small interactions that remind you of everything they had before you came along. moments like this morning, when you’re up early making breakfast, hoping to surprise toji with something special. you’re chopping vegetables, humming softly to yourself, trying to imagine the look on his face when he comes in, maybe pulls you close and says you don’t have to go through the trouble. you’ve seen couples do that — little gestures to remind each other they’re together.

you want that, too.

but as you start to crack an egg into the pan, you hear megumi calling from down the hall. “dad, where are my soccer cleats?”

your heart clenches. before you can even move to help, toji’s already calling back, voice easy, like it’s a scene they’ve played out a hundred times. “try under the stairs, where your mom used to keep ‘em.”

his mom. megumi’s mom.

the woman who came before you, whose shoes you will never be able to fill.

the words hang in the air, chilling. you place the egg down and pause, the silence settling heavy on your shoulders. you don’t hate her, not in the slightest — you’ve only ever heard lovely things about her. if anything, you’re grateful to her for the habits, routines, the sense of belonging she built with them, for raising megumi to be as kind as he is.

but still, there’s a sting every time she’s mentioned, a reminder that no matter how much you love toji, a part of him will always belong to her.

maybe that’s normal, you tell yourself, shaking off the thought. you grab the spatula, focusing on the way the eggs sizzle in the pan, trying to calm the knot that’s forming in your stomach.

“i’m… making breakfast, by the way,” you call out, trying to keep your voice light. maybe this will be the moment toji notices, realizes you’re trying to make him smile in your own way.

“yeah, thanks, babe,” he says from the hall. he’s already moved on, ruffling megumi’s hair as they laugh about something you can’t quite hear.

right, you think, fighting the wave of hurt that sweeps over you.

maybe that’s just the way it is.

you stare down at the breakfast you prepared, feeling a pang of something deeper than you’d care to admit. you’re doing your best to fit in, to add to the life he’s built, but sometimes, it feels like nothing more than an afterthought. it’s silly, really — you know they care about you, know toji chose you because he loves you.

but love doesn’t always erase what came before.

and it’s not his fault that his past is so deeply woven into their present, into your present.

by the time they wander into the kitchen, you’ve already set out the plates, adding a smile to mask the ache twisting inside you. megumi gives you a small nod, a muttered “thanks,” while toji walks over, planting a quick kiss on your cheek. “looks good,” he says with that lazy smirk, and you feel the flutter of warmth, the one that always ignites when he shows even the smallest affection. but it quickly fades as he moves back to his son, launching into an old joke that you don’t understand.

you sit down across from them, feeling the laughter spill around you, each chuckle a reminder of the bond they share. you know it’s unreasonable to feel left out; after all, you’ve only been a part of their lives for a fraction of the time.

and they are good to you. they include you in most things, make an effort to make you feel like part of the family.

but there are these subtle moments, these glances, these familiar gestures, that you can never quite touch.

you watch as toji reaches over, ruffling megumi’s hair, that same fond smile lighting his face. and it’s like watching them dance to a song you can’t hear. a piece of you aches to ask, where do i fit into this?

“you two are adorable,” you say, almost to yourself, hoping they hear the love in your voice despite the sadness resting there.

you can’t say the words that sit heavy in your chest, the longing to belong to them in a way that feels real and whole. instead, you keep your gaze on your plate, focusing on the small bite of eggs you’ve managed to lift to your lips, the only sound in your head the quiet plea that maybe one day, this feeling will pass.

maybe one day, watching them from afar will stop hurting so much.

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[orangetintedglasses]

What the FUCK--?! Captain, what was--

Vash already had a hand over his mouth to keep a surprised set of noises and giggles from spilling out as the radio blipped again, then clicked once; the other end of the call becoming a steady stream of soft static. The move had definitely inspired something of a panic-- had it been a risky sort of silliness Wolfwood had accomplished? Absolutely, but that felt just as on-brand for the man as the killer precision and the taunting were. People were just multifaceted like that.

Very terrifying. And you said acting wasn't your strong suit!

So now, their friends were probably decently startled, which was good and bad... but either way, an uproar like that gave them the element of surprise, especially if it sowed discourse between the head and the guy-- Rex --who'd told him about them. Conflicting reports were perfect for their situation, and Vash's smile was both devious and elated as he dropped his hand from his face. God, he could k--

... wait, no, he actually could kiss him. And while he did spare a second to glance around the room-- as though a camera would just pop out of the darkness or something --the blond was quick to close the gap between them. He was even quicker to reach up and cup the back of the undertaker's head and catch his upper lip in a kiss; radiating warmth and praise that coiled around the both of them, filling their shared space in a rush.

brilliantcleverridiculousamazing, Wolfwood, amazing--

The man was positively brimming with renewed energy, confidence, and something that read mischievous as he pulled back, and threw Wolfwood a smile-- a grin, more like, big and full of teeth; a mirror of Wolfwood's own.

Let's see if we can't sell it a little more. You grabbed a map from security-- odds are a map like that'll tell us exactly where two scary monsters can find some lights to mess with, yeah?

Wolfwood stares at the walkie for a long minute, holding down the call button the entire time to pick up the residual white noise in the small room. His eyes shift over to Vash's as a sort of response, and he cocks an eyebrow to express his own thought process.

He clicks the call button off.

Hmm... Any smart ideas? Otherwise...

With a smirk, Wolfwood tests his throat, not clearing it... but...

Flicking the call button on, he lowers his head onto the desk and rasps an irregular breath, somehow managing to add a wetness to the sound. It falls between some variation of a death rattle and the chirruping of a worm or a monster. The act, while playful, draws upon old, old days of telling stories to smaller children. They always wanted Wolfwood to be the monsters because he made the best monster noises.

And, well, look at him now. A real monster with teeth and claws and strength enough to tear a man in two.

He tries to forget that Vash is right next to him, surely judging him. At first, he thinks Vash will find him weird or funny... but then he remembers the man just sprouted vines, so they've both kind of played their hands today. He can take this ONE thing seriously.

"hhhhhghh...... oghhhhhh... hh—"

The hollow breath ends with him suddenly shutting off the input, cutting the mic. He smiles at the radio, fully aware that this should be the only thing he needs to transmit. Talking it out is pointless. The looters already gave away a weakness:

Something down there is way scarier than two men capable of wiping out a small militia's worth of people in not more than a few minutes. With... non-lethal damage, of course. While that's terrifying to think about considering the Eye, they may as well use it to their advantage.

Am I a scary monster? Or did that sound stupid?

[morganas-pendragons]

Twilight | Elrond Peredhel

You guys asked for an Elrond piece, so here's another one! This one will go into the drabbles on my masterlist. I haven't had much inspiration for fics for him (that means if you do, drop that into my inbox PLEASE)

prompt: elrond/you and twilight

tag: @thesolarangel @celebrimbormylove @ladyoflindon @pentaghasm

***

For all the things you have known him as over the years, you have never associated Elrond with darkness. He is the living embodiment of kindness incarnate, wrapped within the confines of an elven body that's also just a little bit too human for his own comfort. The light shines from the very heart of him. It is what makes him so alluring. So... beautiful.

Kind as summer, they say.

''What are we doing out here, my love?"

Where Elrond is kindness and light, you are gentleness and beauty personified. Gil-Galad has said for quite some time now that the two of you are the perfect complement for one another. You have endured the darkest of times, the deepest of grief, the heaviest of guilt and shame.

Yet here you are. Hand in hand, standing on the cliffs of Imladris above the wildflower fields as twilight peaks just over the trees on the other side of the river.

"I thought we could bask in the coming twilight together. Just us. Away from our responsibilities," Elrond teases. Your brow arches slightly to convey your disbelief as he grasps your hands and drags you down the hill toward the wildflowers. He has been so invested in rebuilding within the weeks following the Fall of Eregion that the two of you have scarcely seen each other, seeking the other out in the dead of night when sleep alludes you. "Just us. I miss us."

You smile and run your thumb along the back of his hand as the pair of you come to a stop. The twilight bleeds into the skies above you, casting red and purple shadows across the flowers as you take his hand into your own and lead the other to anchor against your waist.

Something lightens in him then: Something that he's been carrying for far too long that Elrond has been unwilling to let anyone else bear but him alone.

"We are eternal, Elrond. All that is us is eternal. The love we have shared across these years is eternal." You whisper. Your voice carries in the silence of the valley around you as you inch closer and press your toes into the dirt to be able to kiss him. Elrond tilts his head, lips parting of their own accord as he deepens your kiss and curls his tongue around your own. You don't know who is making those little, broken sounds of desperation and desire. It's probably both of you. You pull away first, grinning at him as he runs his thumbs across the apples of your cheeks.

"You believe me one that you could tolerate for all eternity, my dear?"

You would altercate and bleed at the very hands of the Valar themselves if it meant you would be granted the rest of your life to spend with Elrond Half-Elven.

"I would."

You hum softly as Elrond leans in, nuzzling your temple with his nose before he whispers in your ear, "Marry me then."

Gil-Galad stands vigil at the crest of the hill, idly twisting VIlya on his finger as he watches you leap into Elrond's arms, joyous laughter echoing across the fields as the pair of you stumble among the wildflowers.

"It was as I said, Celebrimbor," The High King murmurs quietly to himself. He can almost feel the presence of his dearest friend still lingering at his side if he focuses hard enough. "All we had to do was wait."

[convexweek]

Interest Check!

Inspired by @treebarkweek

We decided to make our own little event week but instead of Treebark, we have Convex! This is first event we have run so please don’t expect perfection! This is just a fun thing we wanted to do.

We are gonna following very similar rules to that of the Treebark week event, mostly because the main mod running this is busy with their life. We only wish for your patience and support. If you can, we would appreciate sharing this. We just wanna make something fun for the community

Thank you <3

Our ask box is open if you have any questions. We will try to respond as quickly as we can

[smallishzine]

very important official zine stuff for real this time guys please spread this around

we realized we haven’t asked you what you want this zine to be, so here is poll with some different options for things we could do, but this still won’t set things in stone cause we’re aware that we’re working with a relatively small albeit amazing awesome and extremely appreciated audience, but it’ll give us a good idea for what direction you want the zine to go in.

some examples of what we mean for added coherence, please read before voting unless you wanna be like that guy in the Simpsons movie:

an eras tour zine (yes this is a Taylor swift joke shut up if you’re judging us you’re wrong) would be like different pieces dedicated to each, for lack of a better word, “thing” that Joel has done. @/inthelittlezine is a great example of this concept, except the mod has far better organizational skills than we ever could hope to

tourism brochure would be like we pick a specific thing Joel, such as esmp 1 or 2, or x life, or one of his hardcore/survival worlds (I haven’t listed Hermitcraft season 10 cause that’s still in progress but if you guys really really wanna, that too), and make an in universe guide to it expanding upon the lore and characters and builds and stuff. @/scarland-artbook is an amazing example of this, though of course we would be a much smaller scale of a project.

do you wanna tell a story? Or ride our bikes around the halls? We can’t help with the second one, we’re not very sporty people, but this option is both the most difficult and dangerous to the success of the zine, and the one that intrigues me specifically the most. Like, guys, I know I’m polling this, but I’m secretly hoping that this one wins. Like all the hoping. Ever. But I’m not gonna just say yeah let’s do this because if like only three people also wanna this zine will never get made and I will be really, really sad. This option is basically do we wanna take something Joel has done and work together to create an original universe/story based off of it, each contributing a small part of the story in comic or writing form. Unless you’ve been living under a rock and/or this post broke containment sorry if it did I assure I’m usually mostly sane, you probably know where I’m shamelessly stealing taking inspiration from. We heart you @/hotguycomiczine. If we went with this we would obviously create our own universe and storyline, and we’d try to base it off of one of Joel’s characters if possible. Also, if we went with this, we’d start the mod and application process and stuff and once we knew everyone who was going to be in the zine then we’d all get together and start working on the story, and this is the part I’m worried about because if we’re all stumped then I guess the zine is out of luck and I’d be sad. Also even if we did do this, like preemptively temper your expectations I am no where near as good as the legends at hotguycomiczine at organization and promotion and story writing and all that good stuff. However, if you have an idea for a story and want to share, send us an ask cause we might just end up using it.

I think the last two are mostly self explanatory.

please reblog for reach.

[ventsesh24]

Welcome to….

Meaningful Reads Monday

⋆˙⟡🪶.✦⊹₊ ݁.୨୧‧₊˚ 🕯️𓍯๋࣭ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ 🕰 𓍢ִ໋🀦 𓍢ִ໋☕️✧˚ ༘ ⋆

☆ Every Monday, I'll share four book recommendations to inspire personal growth, self-empowerment, and transformation. While this may not be an ongoing series, I’ll definitely be doing it for the next month.

☆These books will explore important historical topics, as well as practical skills that will be very useful moving forward. Whether you're looking to deepen your knowledge or develop new abilities, there's something here for everyone to add to their reading list!

☆Don't be deceived— most of these books are ones I'll be adding to my own reading list. Social media can be curated and fake, but I don't intend to be. So, realistically, I'll be reading one of these books a month alongside you. Don't feel any pressure to read a book a week—take it at your own pace and enjoy the journey.

[inaconstantstateofchange]

A Snippet Shared | Minthara x Karlach

There's no real tag game motivation behind this, but I'm proud of this snippet and not sure when I'll finish the larger oneshot it is a part of, so I'm putting it here for now.

Note: Set post-canon, with Minthara and Karlach in Avernus together.

Karlach, gracious in victory – at least this once – doesn’t belabor her point. And she, too, is undoubtedly impatient to take advantage of this potential windfall. “Now, don’t go expecting some grand beacon of hospitality. We’ll be slumming it with the finest dregs Zariel’s legions leave behind them, b-u-t—four walls! That’s basically the Elfsong, at this point!”

Minthara nods, deadpan, as she agrees with Karlach’s determination. “An apt comparison, my love. The music certainly sounds similar enough.”

Karlach nods enthusiastically, half her quick-paced mind already mapping out the path before them as she scans the desolate horizon. Minthara waits for the constant background noise of Avernus – the wails of doomed petitioners forming a melody with the snarls and clashes of distant engagements – to filter back into her hearing. Karlach has proven quicker and quicker to pick up on her little jests, and this one was surely obvious enough—There. Karlach whirls back around, pointing at her accusatorily. 

“You—you! The music is similar, oooh! How many of those little jokes did you slip past everyone back then?”

Minthara smiles, slow and toothy. “More than you would ever believe, dear one.”

[hahasuchagarbage]

YOOOOOOO I inspired a person's art HELL YEAH

Also LOVED this post, can't wait to read more (hope there will be more 🙏). I have my own "new canon story" going on in mind (very very deep in mind, never meant to see the light of day EVER) with the already established dt17 reboot story of drake mallard, but no interdimensional-old-dwd-show villains situation - like, same character at the end, but with new in-dt17-universe backstories going on (it's complicated), so It was doubly pleasant to read what ideas other people might have about Bushroot's character :DD

Few thoughts that I have after reading, hope you don't mind me sharing:

"because Bushroot, believe it or not, is a good horror character" YES HE IS. yall remember that Laura Palmer shit he pulled out in one of the episodes?? dude wrapped his own damn dead body (the SECOND dead body he had in that episode) in a plastic bag, threw it near some river and continued his day, spying for alien cows, as if nothing had happened.

that is some really twisted shit for a "coward" he is claimed to be to do

"Quackerjack is one of the ones he would get along with the least" I actually strongly agree here lol. (aside from all the other traits mentioned) Quackerjack is too unpredictable and chaotic at this point of his mental state, relationship with him would be a living HELL for someone like Bushroot, if we take into the account all the established issues Reggie has + if there is no character changes/development done before them entering into relationship.

"two gossipers " THEY ARE

(Bushroot and Liquidator also have the "we shouldn't judge/but we will)" duo energy)

"Negaduck would ALWAYS threaten Bushroot for every thing he did wrong" okay-okay, hear me out, do you all too think that negaduck tends to projects his hatred for friendly four toward team fearsome? Especially in the og series, and not the fan-redesigns ones, where both versions of them as villains and heroes are totally identical, and each time friendly four are getting on his nerves he blows the steam on his ''henchmen".

(therefore, there is this concept of how darkwing and negaduck project their experiences with both of their universes fours, where dw is the one who was able to overcome his mistrust and prejudice and see each member of friendly four as their own person, that has nothing to do with the their villain persona; but negaduck did not and will probably never do the same in opposite direction.)

"their relationship would be very cute to explore" - Bushroot's attitude towards spike is something I always interpreted as him striving for love and support, but stubbornly ignoring all those same things coming from spike (like its here, right under your beak, but you don't/don't want to see it. A kind of irony and underline of Bushroot's ignorance, that he as a character must outgrow to finally gain what he craves the most. does that make sense? I hope it does?

Character Ideas for Writers - Bushroot (Darkwing Duck)

This blog is for Darkwing Duck writers who plan to write a fanfic, comic or anything that directly or indirectly involves the character Bushroot. The ideas may not be for everyone and everyone has their own different vision of the character, but this blog is for those who are experiencing writer's block or any other creative issues. I hope you understand and, if you use any of these ideas, please give me credit. Thank you for understanding.

Yeah, I know, this blog took longer than I wanted... But in my defense, my college (yes, I'm in college-) gave me a lot of work to do, so that's it... Little time to make a blog... But I did it little by little and, now, here I am! Well, my dear writers, fanfiction writers, Fan Comics writers and Darkwing Duck fans, let's start with tips about my second favorite Darkwing Duck villain, Reginald Bushroot!:D

(Second favorite, because you already know... My number one favorite villain is Liquidator... -w-)

I decided to start with Bushroot because I had more ideas related to him and I was rewatching the Darkwing Duck episodes while listening to the Podcast "The Saint Canarian Files: A Darkwing Duck Podcast" (By the way, listen to their Podcast, it's really good and they bring curiosities about the production of the episodes :³). And, also, I ended up changing my mind about the "Bushroot Redemption Arc" that was being done in the "Boom Comics" comics and, after hearing some opinions from other people, I ended up liking the idea (and also, this blog was supposed to be released last month because Bushroot, believe it or not, is a good horror character). This blog will be divided into topics and, in each topic, I will talk about specific themes, but that encompass several ideas about that theme. Enjoy! :D

Oh, and for the people who came to the blog to complain about my ideas, I didn't see that you agree with my opinions, don't like Bushroot or are just here to complain as if it were Twitter... I kindly ask that you leave peacefully, malicious or inappropriate comments will be deleted.

Character's Past

This topic (as well as others) is optional, but if you want to make a story (like a fanfic, comic or One-Shot) focused on the character, this topic can be good to give more layers to the character.

I've heard many psychologists talk about how our inner child defines who we are in the present, and despite a series of factors involved, it's really true. So, in Bushroot's case, we have to define what made him a person who, despite being good deep down, ends up losing control of his emotions and ends up doing questionable things, and who also can't express what he wants to others. So I took some things from the psychoanalysis of Attachment Theory. And, to give a very rough summary (go research it later if you want), it is a theory that says that your type of attachments to friendships, family, work and romantic relationships can fit into four aspects of attachment: Anxious Attachment, Avoidant Attachment, Disorganized Attachment and Secure Attachment.

Since our focus is on Bushroot, after analyzing each of the attachments, I classified it into the two most likely attachments for him: Anxious Attachment and Disorganized Attachment.

- Anxious Attachment

The theory says that Anxious Attachment is caused when the person responsible for the child was inconsistent in meeting the child's needs, such as security, affection and attention. One day the child had a lot and the next, he had little. This attachment causes the child to end up developing affective anxiety, with this unpredictability of the person who took care of the child projecting itself into the constant fear that people will abandon him. And this also extends to other life experiences besides older people, such as having a boyfriend or a friend who sometimes gave you attention, and sometimes barely spoke to you, which can be harmful to future relationships, because the person ends up suffocating the loved one in search of validation and security, usually looking for dynamics that are "familiar" to them from past experiences. The points that make Bushroot have part of this attachment are:

Needs constant validation

Never feels loved enough

Has emotional ups and downs

His biggest fear is that they will abandon him

Constantly questioning your worth as a person based on the answers you receive

Always needs attention from others

He cares a lot about every detail

There have been moments considered toxic because of emotional dependence.

He has anxiety and worries a lot about the possibility of betrayal, of people no longer loving him or being interested in him.

- Disorganized Attachment

People with Disorganized Attachment are commonly the result of living in a hostile family environment, with dysfunctional dynamics and emotional abuse. The retained trauma ends up being manifested in later relationships. And, of course, it can also be developed in adulthood. Even if the person has received love in a good family environment, they can become a person with this attachment after traumatic experiences with a toxic partner. Extremely stressful situations can cause this type of attachment. The points that make Bushroot have part of this attachment are:

You don't know how to regulate your emotions, you never know what you're going to feel around someone

There was more than one person in that area who mistreated him

Carry unhealed traumas that show up in relationships

You know his behavior seems contradictory

People are generally untrustworthy

Feeling incomplete, with very low self-esteem

You want to be loved, but you're afraid of being hurt

You know that any relationship will always abandon you

I would like to love myself more, but I don't know if I can

So, yeah... You can take the Bushroot side of things, as a child, having had inconsistent parents or having lived in a hostile family environment, because both attachments are valid. But let's get out of the speculation part and into the part that's probably more fun to play with.

Origin of Powers and Mutation

Definitely the one I had the most ideas for, but let's take it one step at a time... We already know Bushroot's personality and why he did the experiment in the original, but if you want to change that, I have some suggestions.

- Trying to cure a terminal illness

I know, it's a cliché that a scientist tries to cure a disease that would probably kill him or make him lose something that would end his life, but it's still a cliché that, if done well, can give a greater dramatic load to the character. Having reached such an extreme point just to survive, it can also show the character's selfishness, even if small.

- Seek approval and recognition

This is also nothing new considering the duck plant, but it is really valid and is in the original, in parts. And it still works, changing one point or another, it can be well executed.

- Sabotaged by colleagues

This is a strand that goes a little against the original, but it is valid. If Bushroot had his project approved by his boss, Dr. Gary and Dr. Larson would probably be very angry with the duck and would have sabotaged the project, which would cause his mutation and, consequently, they would have indirectly caused their own deaths. But if you want a more interesting Plot Twist... We have another strand of this idea.

- Rhoda being the culprit behind the Bushroot mutation

If you want to completely change the origin of the mutation, you can do the following... Bushroot would be getting approval and would be making money with his projects, while Rhoda is about to be fired, so she decides to use the fact that Bushroot always wants approval from others and convince him to try to do a riskier project. However, she ends up tricking him and using him as an unwitting guinea pig, which ends up causing his mutation and, in the end, she is the one who receives the credit (even though the project was Bushroot's), which causes Bushroot to become blind with rage and want revenge on everyone, including Rhoda. It would be an interesting origin and one that, in fact, would add a lot to his story. And since we're talking about Rhoda...

Rhoda's Character

Another optional topic, but one that could be interesting to work on... Because, in itself, Rhoda's character is not very developed, she serves more as a stepping stone for the plot to follow and to contribute to Bushroot's initial motivation. So, if you want to work more on the character and her relationship with Bushroot, here are some suggestions.

- Keep the original personality, but with more development

It's self-explanatory, but it's valid... The issue of Rhoda being the only person who supports Reginald and truly believes in him is good, whether she just sees him as a friend or something more, which would also give more impact when Bushroot loses his sanity and ends up becoming a villain. You can also try to include her in a few times, making her a recurring secondary character and developing her personality more.

- Good on the outside, but manipulative and cruel on the inside

There are two sayings in my country that I've heard of: the first is "Love makes people blind" and the second is "Love is a purple flower, which grew in the heart of a fool". These two sayings fit this idea... If you want to make a more interesting plot twist, you can use Rhoda as a ladder for a character who seems good, but deep down she is the "mad scientist" of the story. As mentioned in the idea of Rhoda being the culprit of everything, she would have tricked Bushroot into stealing his project and thus gaining money and recognition, never having truly cared about him. This, besides being a plot twist for the audience, would be a reality check for Darkwing Duck, who would be shocked when he found out about this. It could also open the basis for a lot of symbolism regarding this act of Rhoda, but I'll leave that one for you to think about.

- Dying (unintentionally or not) because of Bushroot

Regardless of the path you choose, whether you want Rhoda to be good or evil, another idea that would be interesting is if Bushroot ended up killing her. Whether by accident, with the collapse of the laboratory or a fit of rage that hit Rhoda, or intentionally, with him killing her in cold blood or replicating her experiment, but ending up killing her in the process. But that depends on each writer, the shock value has to be used in the right way and that makes sense in the narrative, and there is no point in killing the character if there is no development for her or her death. But going back to the question of the Bushroot mutation...

Consequences of Mutation

We already know that he became a plant mutant and that this gave him, in addition to plant powers, an extremely surprising regeneration capacity. But what about the consequences of the mutation? Would there be any? I have some suggestions...

- Physical consequences of the body

For those who study biology, you know that our body has a certain "recipe" that, if changed, can cause physiological problems for us. In the case of Bushroot, because he transformed (or was transformed) his body into a plant, his body could reject the mutation. Whether it's his organs not adapting well and causing him to have internal problems, vomiting flowers like "Hanahaki" (those who know fanfics know this term), or him having the physiology of a zombie, losing his vocal cords and becoming hunched over, among other problems.

- Psychological problems

If you want to go into the more psychological aspect of the character, there are also ways to work on that. You can work on an identity crisis in him, with him realizing that he is no longer human and questioning whether he is still himself. You can explore how the mutation ended up affecting his brain, which makes him slowly start to lose his sanity and have hallucinations. Or, if you want to follow the original, explore how lonely Bushroot is now that he is a mutant, since everyone is afraid of him and wants him away, which also touches on the issue of his emotional dependence. But, for this last suggestion, we have a hook to talk about another topic.

Relationships

I'm not just talking about romantic relationships, I'm also talking about friendship and enmity. Let's start with the basics...

- Darkwing Duck

Everyone knows this... Bushroot doesn't like Darkwing Duck at first, mainly because he keeps getting in the way of his plans, but their relationship in the comics and the series ends up changing. Like in "Silme Okay, You're Okay", "Jailbird", "Twin Beaks" and in the zombie potato comic (I can't remember the name right now), they've already teamed up against a bigger villain. In the latter, by the way, it was the first time that Darkwing called Bushroot by his nickname, "Reggie". It comes to the point that, despite all their differences, they are similar, Darkwing even says this: "I know we have our differences...". You can explore either the aspect of Bushroot's hatred towards Darkwing or the aspect of Darkwing being a person who, even though Bushroot is a villain, supports his change of character.

- Fearsome Four

This is the second relationship that is most important, after all, he is in a group of powerful villains... But let's take it one step at a time... Quackerjack is one of the ones he would get along with the least, because, besides Quackerjack being noisy, it was seen in "Jailbird" that he destroys Reginald's plants a lot and doesn't care about his feelings. With Megavolt, he wouldn't interact much, but they would probably get along, considering that they were both losers in the past and have interests in science (even if their field is different), despite Volt also being VERY noisy. Now, with Liquidator, who unfortunately was the least explored, you can see that they get along very well, and could be both the "brave and coward" duo, as well as, probably, two gossipers (because I really think that both of them would be the type of person who likes to gossip), besides that their relationship with Dator could help his self-esteem, even if just a little, because the water dog definitely doesn't take any nonsense.

Credits to @hahasuchagarbage for the idea and inspiration

- Negaduck

Yeah... It's definitely not good... I DOUBT that Negaduck would be nice to Bushroot, even if he is useful as a "henchman", Negaduck would consider him "too soft". You must know that Negaduck is a HORRIBLE person (don't even try to contradict that it's true!), but he would certainly be one of the factors for Bushroot to have trauma that would take him to therapy... Negaduck would ALWAYS threaten Bushroot for every thing he did wrong, whether psychologically or by threatening to burn him alive until he dies. One of the relationships that, besides being toxic, would be one of the factors for Bushroot to be excited about wanting to have redemption or not.

- Spike

To lighten the mood, let's talk about the plant dog Spike... Even though, in the series, Bushroot acted very badly towards Spike, their relationship would be very cute to explore. There are people who, when they feel bad, adopt therapy animals to improve their anxiety and other psychological problems, which ends up fitting with Spike. And with this cuteness, we move on to the next topic.

Powers

Another optional topic, however, equally interesting! We know that Bushroot's powers, in general, are limited to controlling plants, but if you want to expand Reggie's range of powers further, there are some that suit him.

- Expand his plant control

Self-explanatory, but it requires research into plant biology, and I understand that it can be boring, but it ends up being rewarding and makes you see that Bushroot is, in fact, one of Darkwing Duck's most powerful villains.

- Control insects

A slightly more insane idea, but an interesting one, considering that some plants can trick certain insects into survival, whether through pheromones or another method. So it would be interesting for Bushroot to use some formula to manipulate insects.

- Control people with pollen from modified flowers

Just like Poison Ivy, who is the inspiration for Bushroot, he can use the flowers to control people, not necessarily making them fall in love with him, but manipulating their minds to commit crimes for him or something else. And now, let's get to the topic everyone was waiting for...

Redemption or not? That is the question...

As has been said many times here, there is the option of leaving Bushroot as a villain and someone who does not want to change (as some episodes of the series and the comics, both old and Dynamite, did) and there is the option of working on Bushroot's redemption and making him become a hero or an anti-hero. And now, let's explore these two narrative points. And, just for the joke, I'm going to do like Undertale and call the slopes "Good Route", "Neutral Route" and "Evil Route".

- Good Route

The route follows what was proposed by the Boom Comics comics and was touched upon in the original series, a possible redemption of Bushroot... As seen in the other topics, Bushroot suffered a lot of trauma, whether from the past, in his origins or with Negaduck, being some of the reasons why Bushroot is apprehensive about having a redemption arc, asking himself "Is it worth it for me to do this? Will anyone really believe in me to the point of agreeing to help me? Or will everyone just abandon me for choosing this?". And the character who would probably help Reggie in this arc would be Gosalyn (because, as much as Darkwing Duck might consider it, he is not at all delicate with words). Gosalyn, despite being a character with a bit of "no filter", she is a good person and, upon seeing an act of kindness from Bushroot, she would want to help him change. However, Negaduck would be the main obstacle to this redemption, threatening Bushroot with death if he did so, but, in the end, Reggie would finally face him and, thus, would begin his arc of reform, whether as an Anti-hero or as a hero itself. As for the reaction of the other Fearsomes... It will depend... If you want to maintain a good relationship between Bushroot and them, the Fearsomes can get upset, but they would understand Bushroot's side and accept his choice. Now, if you want a negative reaction, you can make them angry and get satisfaction from Bushroot, who would reinforce that he no longer wants to be a villain.

- Neutra Route

She is a middle ground between the good Bushroot and the evil Bushroot, literally being in the middle of them. Bushroot could even consider having redemption, but due to Negaduck's constant threats, he would refuse, even if it would break Gosalyn's heart... However, the event of the Fearsome Four breaking away from Negaduck could occur, which could open the door for Bushroot to be an anti-hero who only kills horrible people, but not necessarily being a hero or a villain, truly being neutral, which still keeps him in the Fearsome Four.

- Evil Route

Now... If you want Bushroot to be 100% villainous, you can choose how to do it... You can make him slowly lose his sanity and, when he is given the chance to redeem himself, he is so insane and traumatized that he would furiously refuse. Or you can make him feel that, if he changes, he will lose everything he has built and his friendship with the Fearsomes, deciding to remain a villain. There may be an atmosphere of terror with these aspects. Or, if you want a more tragic side, make loneliness consume him completely and he becomes a complete villain because of it. You can also want to make him have a redemption, but for a series of factors and a series of issues, he ends up dying in the end, but doing an act of kindness before dying. It's a tragic fate, but you can choose whichever one you want.

Reference Suggestions

Last extra topic to end the blog with a flourish (or perhaps a marigold, if you prefer), which are literary and character tips for you to get inspired.

- Dr. Jerkyll and Mr. Hyde

It might be a good choice if you want to explore Bushroot's internal conflict, between being good or being evil.

- Frankenstein

The most classic parallel, if you want to use the idea of Rhoda being evil and Bushroot being the victim, is questioning the ethics of science and the dilemma of "Who is the monster and who is the human?".

- Poison Ivy

The most direct inspiration for Bushroot, but if you want, you can delve deeper into the character to have both the aspect of Bushroot's powers and more of his past.

- Pearl (from Steven Universe)

It is one of the most classic examples of characters who have emotional dependence and who can help this part of Bushroot evolve and become more self-sufficient.

- Dead Plate

This last one doesn't exactly match Bushroot, but the protagonist and antagonist have two parallels about "what is love?" I recommend researching more about the characters and the game.

Conclusion

But that's basically it, folks... The blog got bigger than I expected, but I hope I helped you! If you have any suggestions for ideas, leave them in the comments and I'll reblog them with your idea! Each like and reblog is a little Lemon Balm Tea to calm down poor Bushroot... That's it, BYEEE!!!

All the arts were made by me in traditional, I hope you liked it! ^^

[mx-paint]

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[vox-off]

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[medicinemane]

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[alphalesbian]

Youll just be minding your own business when all of a sudden the inherant intimacy of solo instrumental music is realized upon you. Like youre just supposed to proceed normally after

[dotcie]

Writers Truth & Dare Ask Game

🎱 ⇢ post your AO3 total stats  🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction?  🌵 ⇢ share the link to a playlist you love 🕯️ ⇢ on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that? 🛼 ⇢ describe your latest wip with five emojis 🥑 ⇢ you accidentally killed somebody, which mutual(s) do you text for help? 🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love 💌 ⇢ how many unread emails do you have right now?  🌻 ⇢ tag someone you appreciate but don't talk to on a regular basis 🐇 ⇢ do you prefer writing original characters, reader inserts, or a mix of both?  🧃 ⇢ share some personal lore you never posted about before 🎲 ⇢ what stops you from writing more in your free time?  🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings 🧸 ⇢ what's the fastest way to become your mutual? 🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now 📚 ⇢ what's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app?  🍬 ⇢ post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character 🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project? 🦷 ⇢ share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on ❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best? 🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity 🥐 ⇢ name one internet reference that will always make you laugh  🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work? 🍦 ⇢ name three good things about a character you hate 🥝 ⇢ do you lie a lot? what's the most recent lie you told? 🦋 ⇢ share something that has been on your heart and mind lately  🦴 ⇢ is there a piece of media that inspires your writing?  🍅 ⇢ give yourself some constructive criticism on your own writing 🐚 ⇢ do you like or dislike surprises? 🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here ☁️ ⇢ what made you choose your username? 🐝 ⇢ tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them 🌸 ⇢ do you have any pets? if you do, post some pictures of them 🎨 ⇢ link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it 🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

[montereybayaquarium]

Remembering Rosa the sea otter

Hello Aquarium family. It’s with great sadness that we share that our beloved sea otter Rosa passed away today. At 24 years old, Rosa was the oldest resident otter at the Aquarium and one of our most experienced surrogate moms, having raised 15 stranded sea otter pups in her time with us. 

While Rosa spent the last few months behind the scenes getting extra special care from our staff, she was the matriarch of the Sea Otters exhibit. Beloved and cherished by millions of visitors and fans of the live Sea Otter Cam, she was instantly recognizable thanks to her blonde head (eclipsed only by Ivy as our most grizzled of kelp grizzlies) and her signature head-all-the-way-back swimming style.

“Rosa was one of our most playful sea otters, and even at 24 years old, she would still be seen frolicking and wrestling with the younger otters when she instigated it,” said Melanie Oerter, curator of mammals. “Rosa was usually found sleeping against the window while on exhibit with her chin tucked tight into her chest and her tail swishing back and forth.”

After being found stranded as a four-week-old pup in September 1999, Rosa became part of the Aquarium family before our sea otter surrogacy program even took shape. Our Sea Otter Program staff raised her by hand for nearly seven months before releasing her to the wild. 

Rosa eventually returned to the Aquarium once again in March 2002 when she didn’t take to life outside of human care, and she immediately became a fixture in the formative years of our sea otter surrogacy program as a caring adoptive mother for rescued pups destined for wild release.

She was a delight to work with, though she certainly had her expectations of our staff according to the many Sea Otter Mammalogists who trained (were trained by?) Rosa over the years. 

"Rosa was an incredibly smart otter! Generally calm and patient with the staff. However, she could be defiant at times and there would be no convincing her to do something she did not want to do," said Oerter. "She would often just look at us or swim away. I believe she was the one who was really training us all of these years. I certainly learned a lot from working with such an incredible otter. It has been a privilege and to say we will miss her is understated."

Rosa relaxed into retirement from surrogacy in 2019, acting as a companion and cornerstone in the ever-changing raft of otters in our care. 

Wild female sea otters live between 15 and 20 years, and reaching the age of 24 is a testament to the exceptional care Rosa received throughout her life from our Veterinary and Animal Care teams. In recent years, she began showing signs of age-related health concerns.  In the last few weeks, her health had been deteriorating. After an exam, the veterinary and animal care teams made the difficult choice to humanely euthanize Rosa because those health conditions were compromising her quality of life. She passed away peacefully, surrounded by her caretakers.

Rosa’s legacy lives on both at the Aquarium with our other resident sea otters Kit, Selka, Ivy, and Ruby, and in the wild, where sea otter pups she raised continue to raise pups of their own, contributing to the recovery of their species and their ecosystems along the California coast. 

Rosa was an inspiration to millions as a charismatic ambassador for her threatened species while playing a leading role in the story of sea otter recovery from near-extinction during the fur trade. Rosa will be greatly missed by all of us who got to know her over the years.

To celebrate Rosa’s long life, please feel free to share photos and stories of your encounters with Rosa at the Aquarium in the comment section on this post, in her memory and for the staff and volunteers grieving her loss. Thank you all for being such a big part of Rosa’s life. 🦦♥️

[zaczenemiji]

I really wanted to ask if you could do like a GN! It can be fem too it doesn’t really matter—

The Reader where like Ultraman can transform bigger too but they're more inspired by Mothra (like a mothra suit). I think it would've been like so cute to see Emi go all awe and clingy to the reader because how bright and heavenly they look💕

Kenji gets all jealous seeing his kajju daughter prefer the reader over him a lil bit. tall parents raising baby monster

Emi’s Favorite

Kenji Sato x Reader

Word Count: 1,546

Genre/Warning: Established Relationship, Family Dynamics, Jealousy (very slight)

Author’s Note: Loved this idea so much, thank you for this first request! Emi with a moth mommy ⋆˚ʚɞ

MASTERLIST

Something about your boyfriend changed the night after Gigantron’s “attack” on Tokyo Dome. That night, you were supposed to help him fend the kaiju off but he insisted he’d do it on his own.

For some reason, you were glad you did not join in because (1) their fight became a pursuit in the sky, and (2) you could not zoom in the air the same way Ultraman does. The only reason you’re able to fly is because of your wings—moth wings on your suit, which would put you at a disadvantage in the case of an air chase.

You were supposed to come over to his place that night to check on him because you were sure that the skirmish had caused more damage to his already injured shoulder. However, your calls were left answered by Mina, telling you that Kenji had already fallen asleep.

Deciding not to disturb him, you simply let him be. But in the days that followed, something surely wasn’t right. He couldn’t focus on his games, he looked so fatigued and restless all the time, and oh good gracious, there were now dark circles under his eyes.

He just looks so stressed and you were so upset with the fact that he didn’t want to tell you what’s going on with him. The time he got into a fight with the other players was the end of the line for you.

You barged into his house, finding him by his bathtub, in front of a TV, watching the news about him. The usually peaceful atmosphere in his house was now charged with tension as you made your way towards him. At that moment, Kenji was praying so hard the kaiju in his basement would keep still.

He still wouldn’t tell you what’s wrong. “It’s not about us. It’s about…” he said, “…something bigger. Something I’m not ready to share yet.”

Your eyes softened at his response, though the ache in your chest remained. You made him promise to talk to you when he’s ready and he agreed. You can’t stand seeing the love of your life like that but at the same time, you didn’t want to force him to do anything against his will. Taking up Ultraman was already enough of that.

Almost two months, after the incident, he seemed back to his old shape. Better, even. And thank heavens, finally, he could now tell you about what happened.

“There’s a what below?!” You asked in disbelief. The two of you were standing in front of the elevator and for a moment, you think your ears are playing tricks on you.

“A baby kaiju,” he replied and went on to explain everything. Still in disbelief, you took in everything with a nod. He placed his hand on the small of your back as he guided you into the elevator.

The moment you saw the big pink baby, you gasped. Emi made happy noises as you approached. However, upon noticing you, she suddenly began to cry.

Kenji was tapping on the glass containment in an attempt to shush her. But to no avail, Emi just cried harder.

“I’m sorry, she doesn’t know you yet,” Kenji apologized. “But I assure you, she’s a sweet big baby.”

Remembering how, at first, Emi only recognized Kenji when he was Ultraman, you decided to try something.

“(Y/n), what are you—“ Before Kenji finished, a soft glow enveloped you, and moments later, you emerged in your giant form. Your wings spread wide, shimmering with black patterns and warm tones of yellow and orange.

Emi’s cries slowed, her curiosity piqued by the sudden change. She opened her eyes, sobs turning to soft hiccups as she stared up at you in wonder. Her claws tapped the glass as she reached out, trying to grasp your wings.

Kenji watched in awe as Emi’s distress melted away. “I think it’s working,” he whispered.

“May I?” You asked, gesturing to the lid of the containment unit. Kenji gave a nod of approval. Carefully, you turned it before lifting it off.

You lowered yourself closer to Emi, your wings fluttering softly as she climbed up her containment. The gentle breeze they created seemed to soothe her further.

Emi let out a delighted squeal, her earlier tears forgotten. She toddled closer to you, her claws gently touching the edge of your wing. She let out a happy chirp, eyes sparkling with joy.

Kenji stepped closer, a relieved smile spreading across his face. “Wow, she loves you in this form,” he said.

You smiled down at him. “She’s just like her dad,” you replied. “She knows a good thing when she sees it.”

Kenji chuckled before he himself transformed into Ultraman. He sat beside you with Emi in between the two of you.

Your wings gently enveloped Emi in a comforting embrace. She was now calm and happy as she traced the pattern of your wings with her claw.

“Gentle, baby,” Kenji said as he rubbed her head.

She continued walking around you and playing with your wings until she tired herself out. She walked in front of you and climbed on your lap, nestling her head on your stomach.

“Awww, baby,” you cooed. You gently picked her up into your arms and gently swayed.

Kenji moved close to you, wrapping an arm around you. You nestled into his arm, head resting on the junction of his neck and shoulders. The three of you slept like that for the night.

The next morning when Emi awoke, she immediately looked for you. Realizing that the moth lady was missing, she cried. Mina was quick to assist her, playing videos of cartoons and Kenji to calm her. To Mina’s surprise, none of them worked.

“Who’s making my baby cry?” Kenji asked as he approached. He expected her crying to cease once she saw him. However, that is not the case.

“Huh?” He questioned. Emi always calms when she sees him. “Mina, try showing her pictures of (y/n).”

Mina did as told and as miraculously as yesterday, Emi stopped crying. “It seems like she got herself a new mother,” Mina commented.

With Emi’s growing fondness of you, you found yourself frequenting at Kenji’s house more than ever. She was just so cute; like a live plushie when you’re in your giant form.

“Hi babyyyy,” you cooed as you transformed into your giant form. You scooped her up, her head nuzzling against you. Her earlier play was abandoned in favor of your presence.

You walked in on Kenji and Emi playing baseball together. And you didn’t mean to interrupt but when you saw her walking towards you, you knew you had to transform.

Kenji smiled at the scene. “She really loves you, you know,” he said.

You smiled back, feeling a warm glow inside. “I love her too,” you replied. “She’s such a sweetheart.”

Emi chirped happily as she climbed up your torso and onto your shoulder where she could watch and touch your wings.

Kenji watched the interaction, his smile fading slightly as a twinge of jealousy crept in. His baby kaiju shows a different kind of joy when you’re around.

He loved Emi dearly, but lately, it seemed like she preferred your company over his. He couldn’t help but feel a bit sidelined.

“She really lights up when you’re here,” Kenji said, trying to keep his tone light.

You glanced at him, noticing the slight edge in his voice. “She lights up when you’re here too, Kenji,” you replied. “She loves you.”

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know, but… it feels like she’s more excited to see you than me sometimes.”

You tapped the space on the floor beside you, gesturing for him to switch to Ultraman. Thankfully, he did not resist.

You moved close to him as he sat beside you, his hand finding its way to your thigh. Your head automatically rested on his shoulder.

“You’re her dad, Kenji,” you said. “She loves you so much. Maybe she’s just fascinated by my wings right now.”

You felt Kenji nod, although the jealousy still lingered within him. “Yeah, maybe,” he replied. “I just want to be enough for her.”

You leaned back to look at him. Your other hand which was not holding Emi on your shoulder, moved up to hold his face. “You are enough. You’re everything to her,” you said. “And to me.”

Emi squirmed out of your hand, gently jumping off your shoulder and landing on your lap. She toddled over to Kenji. He looked down at her, his heart melting as she reached up, wanting to be held. He picked her up, and she nuzzled against his chest, purring softly.

“See?” You asked with a smile. “She adores you.”

Kenji hugged Emi close, his jealousy fading into thin air. “Yeah,” he said. “I guess you’re right.”

You spent the rest of the day playing with Emi, taking turns holding her and making her laugh. By the time evening rolled around, she was content and sleepy in Kenji’s arms.

Before reverting to your original form, you kissed Emi’s head and then leaned in to kiss Kenji. “I’ll be back soon,” you said. “Take care of our little one.”

Kenji smiled, his earlier worries forgotten. “We’ll be here, waiting.”

Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna be tagged on future Kenji oneshots

@scribble0rat

[hurlingdown]

        # BEASTFEAST ! — RYŌMEN SUKUNA.

synopsis. in another life, they only knew you as his guard dog. in this one, he's yours to own. or, alternatively: sukuna misses his mate so much that it begins to physically affect his vessel's body. they set off on a little mission in search of you, only to find themselves walking riiight into your waiting jaws. wc. 4.2k

tags. dom beast! reader, bottom! sukuna. reader has a cock. oviposition (eggs), size difference, large cock, i'm not joking around that thing is fucking ginormous, belly bulge, monsterfucking, cum inflation, breeding kink, mpreg, knotting, biting, rough anal sex, warning: sukuna's huge tits, appropriate amount of clothes-ripping, multiple orgasms, creampie, sukuna's hole leaks slick, soft & needy sukuna.

a/n. inspired by this ask. thank you for the wonderful thirst <3

Sukuna was a predator. He did not fear, did not run from measly little things like monsters, because hardly anything could be more terrifying than he was. 

But for the first time in his life, he felt like he was prey. 

Hulking, sharp teeth bared, and with four piercing slit-like eyes, you rose to your full height, a low growl sounding at the back of your throat. Primal hunger radiated from your entire being as you stalked closer and closer, horns lowered in a position ready to strike, your tail whipping the jagged ends of the cave, sending little sparks alive. 

“S-Sukuna, I think we should leave...” Yuuji stammered, starting to back out, but his cheek split open at once and a mouth appeared, snarling out a command to stay. 

“Let me take over,” Sukuna muttered. “I will handle this, brat.” 

Yuuji looked hesitant about giving up control on his body. Still, there were little options to pick and choose from at the moment, and the beast, you, was approaching them with haste. Each heavy step you took announced your presence, causing the ground to quake, crushed rock particles raining down like fine powder. 

Your eyes narrowed in onto the human at the mouth of the cave, no larger than one-fifth of your size, nor taller. Something coursed through you, sharp and warm and instantaneous, like static electricity. 

Familiarity. 

You came to a halt in front of him as tribal tattoos materialised on his skin, stretching across the expanse of his handsome face and dipping into his clothed chest. Two dark bands wrapped themselves around each of his wrists, and you watched intensely as he raised one (not six)—slowly, as to not threaten you, fist unfurling into a gentle hand to press against the side of your muzzle. 

Dark red eyes stared up at you with a bored expression. 

“Silly dog,” Sukuna cooed, fond. 

All of this was familiar territory, and you wanted to sink your teeth into his neck. He was looking at you like he knew what you wanted, too. 

“Sukuna,” you growled, nuzzling into his hand, and he shuddered. 

Closing his eyes, he curled a palm around one of your horns, bringing you down to press his forehead against yours, wanting to be close. You obliged easily, feeling his warm breath against yours, his touch surrounding you. The thrumming of his very much human heart against your lesser human one. You supposed it was a kind of feeling that no other living being could fathom. It wasn’t love, gods, no. It was something much more than that. 

It was something that only the two of you shared. 

“I made you wait,” Sukuna breathed, stroking the side of your face, and you snorted out an agreement. 

He had made you wait for centuries. Centuries of spending night and day in a cold wet cave, alone. You used to spend weeks lying awake at a time, waiting, hoping he would come back, sharp instincts perking up at every slight noise coming from outside the cave, only for it to be a bird or a stupid human traveller. You had hoped so desperately before that hope died with your will to live, and if not for your curse of immortality, you would have ended it all. You hadn’t even bothered to make a proper nest, for all these years. It didn’t matter if your mate wasn’t there to appreciate it. 

He had left you empty of meaning. 

“... I don’t suppose you will want me to apologise for that.” 

You stayed quiet. You weren’t looking for an apology. But that didn’t mean you weren’t angry with him. 

“Words?” he said patiently, looking at you. “Tell me how you feel.” 

“Nest,” you told him, and he watched helplessly as you shrugged his grip off and stalked past him, out of the cave and into the bright sunlight, for the first time in ages. 

You gathered nesting materials as swiftly as you could, taking whatever you could find in the forest—dried-up twigs, leaves, bark strips, bird feathers, all the sort. They didn’t have the softest texture, but they would do for now. 

You returned to a sweet, heady scent seeping out from inside the cave, each whiff sending delicious quivers down your spine. It was the kind of aphrodisiac that omegas in the wild would release if they wanted to attract an alpha, but these things did not matter to you much. Mate, your mind supplied. Breed. You shook it off as your body not being attuned to the unbearable warmth of the outside world. It was getting all your instincts mixed up. 

Inside the cave, Sukuna was sitting on your poorly-made nest like it was a grand throne, thighs spread and arms hung out, exposing his most vulnerable parts—his neck, heart and belly—to you in such a casual manner that it set fuel to the burgeoning fire you had been trying to ignore in your abdomen.

He gave you a lazy look as you noticed, a smirk beginning to stretch across his face. 

“You are back.” 

You felt your fangs itch. 

“I was going to rip these off,” Sukuna continued when you made no reply, pinching his clothes with a look of near disgust. “But I figured you would want to do it yourself…?” 

You growled. You had been suppressing the urge to rip off all his clothes since the moment he emerged in front of you in those markings that you had recognised as yours, and somehow, he knew it. 

“Sukuna,” you said. There was nothing else to say. You could feel yourself trembling with desire. Even he wouldn’t be able to take it, not in this weak form, no. “I need… to fix the nest.” The words came out flimsy and weak. An excuse.

“Take me,” he rasped out, as though reading your mind. He gestured to his stomach. “Forget the nest. I want you inside me. Right here.” 

He watched you, a hint of desperation behind his stern gaze. You looked away. 

“I am angry at you,” you confessed, the real reason for why you were so hesitant. It came out in a growl, and Sukuna shivered, baring his neck with a low whine. 

“I can tell,” he murmured, breathless. “Take it out on me.” 

It was tempting, really, having your mate spread out in front of you in your territory, willing and pliant, with only a thin, negligible barrier between you and what was yours. No, what used to be yours. You glared at his unblemished neck, now empty of a mating bite. It didn’t feel right, and the growing heat within you was telling you to either bite or break something. 

“No.” 

Sukuna cocked an eyebrow. “No?” 

Trying your best to ignore him, you lumbered over, starting to rearrange the nest into something more presentable. As you got closer, the sweet scent intensified, like a field of blooming red roses, each one making you dizzy with desire. Mate, your instincts were telling you. Make him round and heavy with our offspring. Keep him here forever. Who knows where he’ll walk off to the next time we lose sight of him. 

You could feel your cock sliding out from its sheath, steadily hardening as you pretended not to know where the smell was coming from. 

Sukuna eyed you coyly as you moved closer to stuff a few feathers behind him, arching his back subtly as he settled into a more comfortable position, one that exposed the wet patch between his legs. He pulled down the mouth of his shirt to show his right pectoral, the thick black lines enticing you to trace them with your tongue. 

Your cock swung heavily with every slight movement, and you could feel his hungry stare on it. 

He opened his mouth. You stopped and stared back at him, daring him to speak. He sneered. “Your dick clearly disagrees—” 

Sukuna yelped as you ripped his shirt open with your claws in one smooth movement, fully exposing his plump chest. 

“Beautiful,” you growled in appreciation, flinging the shredded shirt away, and he panted out a victorious laugh, eagerly pushing out his tits for you to examine. 

“Fucking finally.” He moaned unabashedly as you groped his pecs, careful not to graze him with your claws, but just as rough nonetheless—just the way he liked it. “Knew you would give in, haah.” 

“Sukuna,” you warned, baring your teeth, but he only arched his neck in response, trying to get you to bite already. 

“Put it in,” he whined. “Want your prick in me.” 

You ripped his pants off next. 

Your gaze raked down his body—this new, unfamiliar body of his that you should despise, because it was so human, so unlike him—but instead of feeling revulsion, you could only taste hunger. Saliva rapidly gathered in your mouth, threatening to spill out from the gaps of your sharp teeth. 

If he belonged to you, then every form and body that he chooses to possess would belong to you, too. And naturally, this one did. 

“Here,” Sukuna panted, reaching a hand between his legs to scissor his hole open for you. Viscous, syrupy slick dripped out, dousing your nest with his sweet smell, and all of this only served to drive you crazy with want. “Fuck me, ruin me, come on—” 

The universe unravelled before you the moment you grabbed him by the hips and seated him on your cock in one violent thrust, and you groaned out loud and guttural, heavens and the earth be damned. You could have never forgotten how it felt, not since then, and never now, a sweltering, almost electrical connection burning through your bodies and sealing them together as one, like you were made to fit inside him, like he was made to be yours. 

Sukuna was letting out a string of broken whimpers, face contorted in absolute bliss and pleasure as his rim stretched impossibly wide around your thick girth, his stomach bulging out to allow such a large intrusion. You yanked him further down the shaft of your cock, and he cried out, body convulsing as came—cock messily spurting on his chest. 

“Shit,” he cursed, trembling as you began to move again. “F-forgot how big this thing is.” 

You snarled. Guess you would just have to imprint your dick inside him to make sure he would never forget again. 

You manoeuvred your grip to the back of his knees, supporting him in a secure hold, spreading his thighs wider so you could slide in deeper with his back pressed against your chest. You wanted to feel every inch of him, wanted him to sheath you, wanted to carve a space inside him that only you could ever breach. Sukuna howled out a profanity, throwing his head back to rest on your shoulder as pleasure overwhelmed him in waves. 

He reached back to grab at your shoulders, horns, anything, struggling to push himself into a better position as you started to slowly thrust into him. Vulnerable was the first word that came to you. The second one was fragile, but that wasn’t the word for it, either. He was so little now—you could fit one hand completely around his waist, and you should be more gentle with him, really, but you knew he could take more. 

“Look,” you said, peeking over his shoulder. Sukuna looked up at you, teary and confused, but before you could clarify, you reached a clawed hand to press against the obscene bulge on his navel, and his eyes rolled back with a loud, shuddering cry as he jerked in your arms, pressure immediately increasing tenfold. 

“F-fuck,” he sobbed. You could feel the slick gushing out from around you and dripping down your thighs as he stared down for the first time, throat dry and unbreathing. “It’s too fuckin’ big.” 

You applied more pressure, just to be cruel, watching as he choked on a moan, thighs quivering uncontrollably. He stared back up at you, as though searching for a reason for that, and couldn’t resist looking down again, at the huge swell over his stomach and abdomen—the print of your cock marking him as yours. He slowly pressed his hands over your larger ones, whimpering as he felt just how deeply you were buried inside him. 

“It is not that big,” you sneered. “You are just small now.”

Sukuna scowled at your taunting words, shivering as you gently stroked his stomach. “Brat. That does not- ah- does not mean I cannot take you.” 

You bared your teeth, trying for something similar to a smile. “I know.” 

You knew that more than anyone. He was the strongest creature you had ever known, and would ever know. The only one you would ever bow down to, the only one you would serve and recognise as king.

You lapped up his tears, and Sukuna leaned heavily into your touch, like he had been starving for it. 

He was starting to roll his hips impatiently, forcing the head of your cock to rub against his walls, lustful whimpers slipping out as he watched you move inside him. “I guess it has been a long time,” he heaved, trying to catch his breath as he worked himself up and down your shaft the best he could. “I am gonna—cum. Again. Hold me.” 

It wasn’t an order as much as it was a plea.

You lifted his thigh high up to your chest, your other arm wrapping protectively around his waist as you violently slammed up into his tight hole, stuffing him full as he screamed. Strips of white painted his chest as he came all over himself, and you hooked your jaw over his shoulder to dutifully lick them up. 

It took him less than a minute to recover, hips jerking in your grip and whimpering pitifully to get your attention.  

“Fuck me,” he sobbed, way too sensitive as you started to move him up and down your cock again, canines grazing his neck. “Fuck me harder.” 

You knew Sukuna wasn’t letting you do this only because he wanted you to let you take out your anger on him. He needed it himself, craved it, even—the violence, the overstimulation, the release. Centuries of not having you beside him. Centuries of being sealed up in a dark, empty space without the comfort of your warmth, the solace in your touch. He needed it now, more than ever, and you needed it too.  

Ignoring his protests, you pulled him off your cock, setting him gently onto the nest on his hands and knees. Yanking his hips up, you forcefully pushed your shaft into him again, shoving him down by the neck when he tried to see what you were doing. He only moaned at the rough treatment, arching his back for you. 

“Let me,” you told him, gently. “Let me take care of you.” 

Sukuna panted, his two left eyes watching you with a strange reverence that only revealed itself when the two of you were alone and being intimate. It wasn’t exactly a promise to behave, but it was enough for you to start again. 

Your tail curled around his thigh possessively, guiding it to spread wider as you rammed your hips against his repeatedly with heavy thrusts, the wet slaps deafeningly loud as they echoed through the cave. Sukuna had stopped trying to fuck himself on your cock, instead laying there and allowing you to position him as you wished, moaning lewdly every time the tapered tip of your cock forced itself against his sweet spot. He was squeezing deliciously around you with every thrust, his insides squelching as slick coated the entirety of your shaft, easing the stretch and glide. 

“Gorgeous,” you growled, entranced by the way his hole greedily swallowed up your length, and he whined brokenly at the praise, trembling hands reaching back to spread himself open for you. You groaned out at the sight, driving yourself deep in before pulling out until only the tip stayed inside, and slamming back in again to drink in his pleasured cries. Somewhere in the middle of that he had cum again, spilling heavily into the nest as his knees gave out, legs shaking with overstimulation. 

“So fuckin’ good,” Sukuna whimpered, no longer himself in the haze of his third orgasm—face smushed against the nest as he drooled. “Missed this—missed you so much, ah—” 

You could feel yourself getting closer and closer, the edges of your vision blurring as you snapped your teeth together, focused on getting him off as much as possible first. Something strange and heavy was churning deep within you, being slowly dragged out from your depths and solidifying at the base of your cock—a feeling you hadn’t felt for a long time, you almost forgot what it meant. 

You didn’t even know if it was possible to impregnate him in this form. 

“Fill me up,” he sobbed out, cockdrunk already. The stutter of your hips had given it away—it didn’t matter if it had been centuries—his body could recognise it coming from a mile, like he was conditioned to be bred by you. “Want your eggs.” 

You let out a hungry, animalistic whine at his words, claws digging into his hips and thighs as you towered over him in a proper mounting position, pounding harder and making guttural sounds of pleasure and want as you blindly chased your release. His eyes squeezed shut as he moaned wantonly, exposing his throat in a clear sign of submission, showing you that he wanted this, wanted you to stuff him full until he was bulging with your offspring. 

“S-Sukuna,” you managed, wanting to bite, wanting to mark him, cock slamming directly into his sweet spot with reckless abandon, as though wanting to mark his insides as yours too. You could feel a knot bloating at the base of your shaft, heavy and swollen with solid weight, an unbearable pressure pushing and growing insistently somewhere down there, slowly travelling towards the rim of your cockhead. It was too much, too good, and you wanted to push deeper, deeper, make him feel it all the way to his throat. 

“Knock me up already!” he wailed, pushing his ass back against you desperately as if that would speed things up. “P-Please. You know I want it. Been waiting for so long. I want it, please, please—” 

He was begging so much that it was driving your instincts into overdrive, sight blurring, breath coming out in rapid, hot pants—he had rarely, rarely ever acted like this even before the two of you were separated—tears rolling down his cheeks as he cried his heart out for you to permanently mark his body as your own, distraught and broken like the only thing that could fix him was you. 

It tore your soul apart to see your mate like this. 

You fought to concentrate, but an invisible force was prying your jaws open, trying to get you to bite, clamp down on his neck and shoulder, taste his blood and drink in it. 

“Bite,” you wheezed out with difficulty as your hips continued to pound into him of their own accord, and you tried your hardest to tell him that you were going to lose it any time. “Please—can—I?” 

“Yes, you fucking fool,” Sukuna choked on a sob as you brutally shoved your knot into him, stuffing him full until he felt like he was bursting. “Mark me up, show me that I belong to you—” 

And you did, jaws latching onto flesh and skin as your teeth punctured the juncture between his neck and shoulder, fangs sinking in deep, snarling, shaking, a burning heat exploding at your core as your vision whited out, emptying everything into him—ecstasy consuming your very existence. 

When you came to be, he was whimpering weakly.

You could feel the cum steadily trickling out of his hole and down the back of his thighs—you had come so much that even the thick knot couldn’t keep everything inside—but you didn’t think that was the reason. 

You could feel a heavy pressure present from your crotch to the gaping rim of your cockhead, pain and pleasuring splitting you apart, and you let out a wounded noise as you pushed the first egg into the body of your mate. 

“S-shit,” Sukuna croaked out, thighs trembling as the egg settled into him, straining at the sudden heavy weight in his stomach. “H-how many are there?” 

“There are two,” you hissed out, and his eyes widened. “Two more.” 

He let out a pained whine, eyes fluttering close as he waited for the next, and the next. “Brat,” he managed. “I might not be able to stay awake.” 

You pulled back the best you could, manhandling him gently so that you could rest him on his side, knot still lodged inside him. “It is okay,” you told him, softly. “I will take care of you.” 

Sukuna couldn’t remember, for the life of it, the last time that he had felt so heavy. 

He blinked his eyes open, and was greeted by the sight of his swollen stomach, now stuffed with three whole eggs, and at least a gallon of your cum. He sighed with contentment, wriggling to settle comfortably into the warmth of the nest, hands settling on his stomach. 

Yuuji was going to try and kill him, no doubt. Not that his vessel would ever come close to succeeding. He found himself grinning evilly at that. 

Sukuna was about to fall asleep again, before he noticed a lack of body heat behind him.

He was breathing in your scent as the entire cave was drenched in it that he hadn't realised immediately, but you were nowhere in sight. A hollow feeling swept over him in waves at the thought of being used and abandoned, and he bit back a whimper. Stupid, useless instincts. He hated how weak you made him.

“Brat,” he called, softly, too tired to sit up. “You are here?” 

You grunted. 

You had been sitting at the far edge of the nest for the past hour, gaze locked onto the entrance of the cave, guarding your now pregnant mate from any foolish intruders. That was… one of the two reasons. The other reason was to guard him from yourself. 

Sukuna called for you again, and you could not resist stealing a glance.

The sight before you was making you light-headed with desire that you could not afford to have, not right now. You stared down at him just as he looked up at you, swollen and bulging with your offspring, mindlessly stroking his huge stomach with cum still trickling down his ass and thighs. 

Fuck. You were so hungry. You would always be hungry for him.

Sukuna’s face split into an arrogant smirk. “Why, after all that, and you still want more.” 

“Do not,” you warned lowly, trying your best to look away, even as he shamelessly spread his legs, showing you the mess you had made between his thighs. “Sukuna. Not now.” 

“Why not?” he leered, taking pleasure in your distress. “Scared you will break me?” 

You growled. “Yes.” 

“Weak,” he taunted. “I do not remember picking a weak fool as my mate.” 

“I am not weak.” You bared your teeth at him, and he simply laughed at you. 

“So easy to rile up,” he hummed. “Come here.” 

“... No.” 

He looked even more amused. “Come over, brat. I will not do anything vile.” 

“So you know you are vile,” you said, and despite your words, begrudgingly strut over and buried your face into his neck, ignoring the dull heat persisting in your lower abdomen. 

Sukuna sighed as you lapped affectionately at the fresh mating bite, closing his eyes and basking in the heat of your body. “I never- ah- denied it in the first place.” 

You pulled back to glower at him, clawed hands settling back on his hips where they belonged—now carrying the weight of your offspring. He reached up to cradle your face now that you were steadying him, unfazed by your glare. 

“And you still love this vile creature?” he murmured, gazing at you with an expression no less than tender.

“Love,” you repeated, like it would make sense if you said it a second time. You felt more for him than just love. If love only made your skin feel warm and your heart beat fast, like the mortals have told, then this feeling was something much, much more than love. 

Sukuna merely grinned, and you knew he felt the same. 

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