#is that not just an absolute brainrot sentence i need to get off of the internet

[undermattsun]

miki are you going to see the new haikyu movie?

i never went and saw the hq movie.....

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

You Already Know, Babe

Request: Heyy would I be able to pretty please ask for a Roy one-shot based of So High School? Mainly the lyric: "Truth, Dare, Spin Bottles. You know how to ball, I know Aristotle" (bc I have TTPD brainrot) Like I'd love to picture Roy with a total academic girl who loves classic literature and ancient greece and philosophy pls ???

Roy Kent x Reader

3.3k words

Warnings: Language, Roy being insecure, the guys making Roy feel bad (not on purpose)

A/N: Ahhh I also have TTPD brainrot so I loooooove this! I made the reader a uni professor. Also been wanting to do a Bantr fic for Roy for a while, so I incorporated that in too!

Roy scowled and sipped his beer. “Fuck no.”

Leaning forward in the booth they sat in, Keeley gave him her best puppy-dog eyes, the ones that stopped working the moment he got over her. “Come on, Roy. I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t think it’d be good for you.”

“What’s the worst that can happen?” Jamie chimed in.

“‘Fuck no’ used to be a complete sentence,” Roy growled.

Before he could stop the striker, Jamie grabbed Roy’s mobile off the table, holding it just out of the gaffer’s reach. “Just… one… moment…” he huffed as Keeley did her best to hold Roy back. “Alright, we need a username.”

Roy rolled his eyes but stopped fighting against Keeley’s grip. “How about ‘This is fucking stupid’?”

“I think that’s against their policy,” Jamie hummed, eyes still on the phone.

Keeley thought for a moment. “RoyallySarcastic? Y’know, ROYally?”

Jamie’s eyes lit up. “Oh, I got it!” He typed away before proudly showing the screen to Roy and Keeley. “RoyalPain,” he announced.

With a giggle, Keeley took the phone from Jamie and handed to Roy, who looked ready to kill his friends. “There we are Roy-o,” she said. “Welcome to Bantr.”

~

~

Roy sat at the small table, fidgeting with the shiny fork on the table and staring intently at the condensation on the glass of water in front of him. Why the fuck was he so nervous? He was Roy fucking Kent, he reminded himself sternly. He’d been on plenty of dates. Sure, this was his first Bantr date, but that shouldn’t really matter. He’d been on a couple of blind dates in the past; this shouldn’t be much different.

But it sure felt different when you walked in, all wide eyes and nervous smiles. You approached him hesitantly, cocking your head as you got closer. Your gaze flickered to the tattered copy of A Wrinkle in Time on the table next to him before settling on his face.

“RoyalPain?” you squeaked out, raising your eyebrows expectantly.

Before he could stop himself, he grinned and blurted out, “I Kant believe it’s you.” Immediately, he groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Nope, fuck, that was stupid. I’m sor-”

Your laughter eased his embarrassment as you sat across from him. “Don’t you dare apologize,” you countered. “That was cute.” You offered your name with a small smile.

“Roy,” he said simply, searching your face for any sign that you recognized him.

Instead, you nodded and leaned forward. “And what do you do, Roy?”

What did he do? He tried to remember the last time someone asked him that. “I work for a football team,” he said slowly. “A.F.C. Richmond.”

You nodded, interest all over your pretty face. “And what do you do at Richmond?”

He blinked a few times and cleared his throat. “Do you… you don’t know who I am?” Fuck, he felt like an absolute asshole saying the words out loud.

“Sure I do,” you chuckled. “I just figured that Roy Kent doesn’t often get the chance to introduce himself. Thought I’d give you the opportunity.”

Roy couldn’t help but smile. Yeah, it was kind of dorky, but fuck, he liked it. Just like he liked hearing about your job as a uni professor, or the article you recently wrote about Arthurian legend, or the book you’d read recently. And he really liked the way you looked at him like he was the most fascinating thing in the world, more interesting than the well-renowned experts and authors you got to spend time with, asking him about his work and his life and his opinions. He smiled all through dinner, laughing at jokes even when they went over his head and making a mental list of books he now wanted to read.

He was still grinning as he walked you to your car after dinner, wondering when he’d last enjoyed himself so much on a date. As you fished your keys out of your purse, he found himself desperately hoping for another date with you. And another. And another.

“Could we do this again sometime?” he asked gently once your keys were in your hand.

Fuck, he loved the way your eyes lit up at his question. “Absolutely,” you breathed.

With a dizzy little nod, Roy cupped your face and tugged you close, ghosting his lips over yours. You gently laid your hands on his hips to press against him, deepening the kiss. You swore you could feel him smiling against your mouth as his thumb stroked your cheek. Some little part of you wanted to pull this man into your car, into your apartment, into your bed. But from the happy little hum that vibrated from his chest to yours, you knew you had plenty of dates ahead of you, plenty of time for all that, plenty of Roy Kent ahead of you.

~

After three weeks of dates and laughter and late-night phone calls and kisses that escalated to other things, Roy invited you to a match. He seemed weirdly nervous for a retired football legend whose dating history could fill any of the giant books that filled the shelves in your office, but you found his nerves nothing short of charming. So, you threw on some comfy jeans and a sweatshirt and climbed into Roy’s giant black car to go with him to Nelson Road, where he showed you his office before giving you your ticket and sending you off to your seat with a chaste kiss.

Roy was fighting the stupidest smile as he prepared for the match, the same stupid smile he’d been fighting since your first date. He was excited for you to see him and the Greyhounds in action, to be able to show off for you a little and, he didn’t fucking know, make you proud or some shit.

“Was that your girlfriend, Roy?” Sam raised his eyebrows as he and Jan stood in the doorway.

He cleared his throat. “No,” he said slowly. “But we’ve been dating for a few weeks.” He paused for a moment, hoping he didn’t look too dopey as he spoke. “She’s a professor. Fucking brilliant. Like, she teaches, and she’s been published and speaks at conferences.”

Jan spoke up. “Most men would not be able to handle dating a woman so much more educated than they are. Good for you, Coach. It’s nice that you are not intimidated by her clearly superior intellect.”

A knot appeared in Roy’s stomach, but he simply cleared his throat and gave a curt nod. “Yeah, well.” He blinked, not sure what the fuck he was supposed to say to that. “Best finish getting ready, hmm?”

Jan’s words continued to flutter around Roy’s mind like an annoying butterfly as he made his way out to the pitch. He liked that you were smart. Hell, he liked that you were smarter than him. He could listen to you talk for hours about literature and history and philosophy, especially when your eyes lit up and your voice got faster, the way he noticed it did when you were especially passionate about something. It was impressive, not to mention sexy as all hell. But there had definitely been moments over the last few weeks where he had to Google what you were talking about while you weren’t looking, or where he laughed at a joke he didn’t really understand. It came with the territory, he told himself. It was to be expected, dating someone like you.

And there you were, sitting in the seat Roy had selected for you, the one that gave you the perfect view of the dugout- per your request. You waved excitedly when you caught Roy’s eye, wearing that giant smile that made his heart skip a beat. He offered back a small wave, knowing full well that all the guys could see his furious blush.

“That your girl?” Colin asked, following Roy’s dreamy gaze.

Roy shrugged, turning his attention back to his team. “Uh, I guess?” he mumbled, taking the clipboard Nate handed him.

Sam spoke up. “Roy said she’s a uni professor.”

Respect covered the faces of the men that were clearly more interested in Roy’s love life than their impending match. They all started chattering over each other, ignoring Roy’s eyerolls and Beard and Nate’s amused expressions.

Richard waggled his eyebrows. “Does she offer special office hours for you, Coach?”

Roy wrinkled his nose at the Frenchman. “What the fuck is that supposed to-”

“Did you have to buy a new dictionary to keep up with her?” Zoreaux teased.

Isaac spoke up, clapping a hand on Roy’s shoulder. “Most guys would probably run for the hills if they had to keep up with a woman’s brainpower,” he started. “But Roy’s not intimidated. I mean, sure, we all know he’s no Einstein, but he’s got other great qualities. Like…”

Roy raised a cool eyebrow at the captain, more curious than offended at this point.

“Coaching,” Colin finally finished for Isaac. “He’s a great manager.”

Jamie pipped up now. “And she seems to really like looking at you, Grandad.” He nodded to the stands where, sure enough, you were still gazing at Roy, affection all over your face. “She’s cute,” he mused.

Roy cleared his throat, trying to focus attention to the match at hand and not your pretty smiles. Or the words of his players that had etched a deep frown onto his bearded face. “Alright, Greyhounds!” he hollered. “Let’s fucking focus, lads! We’ve got a fucking match to win!”

~

And they did win, much to Roy’s pleasure. Winning always felt good, but he had to admit that winning in front of a pretty girl felt fucking great. And it was even better when he found you waiting in his office, gazing at him as if you had hearts in your eyes.

“That was brilliant!” you gushed, wrapping your arms around his middle while his rested on your shoulders and tugged you close. You pressed a tiny kiss to his lips. “Thank you so much for inviting me, Roy.”

He smiled down at you and pecked your nose. “Think you’ll come again sometime?” he teased.

Your eager nodding melted his heart. “Absolutely,” you promised. “Maybe next time I’ll even wear a kit. Since I think I’m officially a Richmond fan now.”

“That kit better have a six on it,” Roy growled, smacking another kiss to your cheek. He gave you a small squeeze before releasing you. He reached down to grab your hand. “I’ve got to go talk to the press for a bit, he explained, leading you over to his desk. “D’you mind waiting here? We can grab dinner once I’m done,” he promised. “Here, you can even watch the presser on my computer.”

“Sounds perfect.” You touched his cheek and pulled him close for one more kiss. “Now get going, I want to see you be brilliant in front of all those reporters.”

Roy was still blushing when he got in front of the cameras. The press conference was a blur of questions and comments. He’d probably have to apologize to Keeley later, because he was sure he was dreamy and distracted the entire time. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so lovesick over a woman, and he especially couldn’t remember the last time he enjoyed it so much.

When he returned to his office, he was surprised to see Jamie sitting on the edge of his desk, chatting pleasantly with you. You both lit up at the sight of him, with Jamie choosing to speak first as Roy offered a small grin to you.

“Your girl was just telling me about this seminar she’s speaking at next weekend,” he announced. “Some talk on the Lord of the Rings books and their impact on modern cinema.” He nodded to you. “It actually sounds really cool.” He slid off the desk with ease, offering you a wink. “Not sure what someone as smart as you is doing with Grandad here,” he joked.

He was kidding around. Roy knew that. Jamie loved to tease everyone, especially him. He was well-aware of the way Jamie admired him, as his childhood hero, as his coach, and, fuck it, fine, as his friend. Maybe it was all the joking from earlier, but Roy felt his face fall at Jamie’s teasing. He couldn’t help it; it was one thing for the guys to joke to his face, another to make a comment in front of you. He wouldn’t admit it even to himself, but some part of him was terrified you’d realize how brilliant you were, and how dull he was, and call the whole thing off.

Roy was so busy stewing in his childish embarrassment, he missed the way your eyebrows scrunched at Jamie, your mouth in a straight line. When you spoke, your voice was flat, maybe even a little angry, as you responded to the striker.

“I think,” you said slowly, “I’m going to dinner with him.” With that, you took Roy’s hand, hoping the adoration in your eyes would be enough to wipe that frown off his handsome features. “Ready, Roy?”

Roy nodded, but barely said a word as the two of you walked through the Dog Track, got into his car, and drove to the restaurant he’d been excitedly telling you about the day before. However, that excitement was nowhere to be seen as the two of you settled in and ordered some dinner. You cocked your head at him, wondering how someone who’d just coached such a great game could look so sullen- especially while on a date with someone he was supposed to really like.

“That match was incredible,” you offered, leaning forward with a smile. “Seriously, Roy. How do you do that? Being able to see the game unfold and know what plays to call, what players to have on the pitch. And all the preparation you have to do in advance. It’s like a really intense game of chess, with all those moving pieces, not knowing what the other side is going to do next.” You reached out and laid your hand on top of his. “Your team is so lucky to have you.”

His gaze avoided yours as he cleared his throat. “Dunno how much of it is me,” he chuckled hollowly. “I inherited a great team and have a really talented coaching staff.” He shrugged. “Sometimes I feel like I just… stand there and take up space.”

Now it was your turn to frown. This wasn’t the Roy Kent you met, the Roy Kent that teased you and smirked and made cocky comments just to make you laugh. Something had happened, something between the beginning of the match and the end, to make him so morose. Maybe something had happened in the match that you’d missed; you weren’t much of a sports fan before meeting Roy, you really only knew the basics, so it was possible what you thought was an incredible match was really something of a failure for him.

Maybe distracting him would help.

“I was telling Jamie Tartt about the conference I’m speaking at,” you tried again. “It’s this fantasy and pop culture thing. Kind of dorky,” you admitted. “But I’m really excited about my talk on Tolkien and his influence on modern cinema. My colleague was saying he really liked this one parallel I drew between Frodo and- well, I don’t want to spoil it.” You squeezed his hand. “You should come. I’ve seen you at work, now I want to show you what I do.” You shrugged. “Could even bring Jamie if you want.”

Roy nodded absently, not quite looking you in the eye. “Yeah, just make sure to get me a translator so I can understand what you’re saying.” His voice sounded like he was attempting to make a joke, but it fell flat. “Academics to neanderthal or some shit.”

That was enough of that, you decided. With a sigh, you leaned back, cocking your head at the gaffer and shooting him your sternest glare, the one you saved for students who didn’t know how to act like adults in your classroom. “Alright, Roy. What’s going on? You’re acting like you don’t want to be here, and, frankly, I don’t want to hang out with someone who doesn’t value my time.”

“I…” Roy let out a low growl and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re smart,” he finally blurted out. “Like, really, really fucking smart. You teach, and you’re published, and you speak in front of academic types who hang onto every word you say.” He released his nose and shook his head at you, embarrassment swimming in those brown eyes. “And I… played football. I coach football. That’s fucking it. I can’t stand the idea of you being embarrassed by the fact that I can’t keep up with you. That you’re going to turn around and realize I’m not smart enough for you.”

Your stomach twisted in knots as you took in the sight of him, looking devastated, like he was waiting for you to tell him he was right, he was a neanderthal, and that you didn’t think he was smart enough for you. If it wasn’t so sad, the picture of Roy looking so forlorn would be almost endearing.

“That,” you finally murmured, “might be the stupidest thing you’ve said since we met, Roy.” He nodded, a grimace covering his face as you went on. “Not smart enough for me?” you scoffed. “Roy, I think you’re brilliant.” You sighed and shook your head. “I mean, look at you today. I could never do what you do, managing an entire football team. And I’ve seen clips of you when you played, you were brilliant then too. Not just a skilled player, but a smart one. And from what you’ve said, you have great relationships with your players, with your niece and sister, hell even with your ex-girlfriend. That takes an emotional intelligence most people don’t have.”

“I mean-”

You shushed the gruff man. “’m not finished. And what’s this about you not being able to keep up with me? You read almost as much as I do, Roy. When you don’t know something, you immediately learn everything you can about it. You absolutely tore through ‘Le Morte d'Arthur’ after our first date so you could ask me about my King Arthur article.” A smile finally broke through your face. “So, unless this is some roundabout way of trying to say you don’t want to see me anymore, please stop insulting the man I’m dating and accept that there’s different kinds of intelligence. And I like your intelligence quite a bit.”

For a moment, you thought you may have completely overwhelmed Roy. He blinked at you with an unreadable expression before letting out a breathy chuckle. With raised eyebrows and something that looked close to a smile, he finally opened his mouth.

“I’ve just… never had such an intelligent girlfriend before,” he said slowly. “I’ve dated smart women. Driven women. But no one like you. It’s… a little scary, how brilliant you are.” That something close to a smile became a real grin as he intertwined his fingers with yours. “And really fucking sexy,” he added quickly.

Your heart skipped a beat with every word out of his mouth. “You’ve never had a nerdy girlfriend before, hmm?” you teased.

His expression was bashful, but absolutely pleased. “No,” he chuckled. “I haven’t.”

A smirk crossed your face as you batted your eyes at him. “Do you want a nerdy girlfriend?”

Those brown eyes were so soft, so full of affection as he nodded gently. “Yeah,” he breathed, raising those thick eyebrows at you. “I really fucking do.”

“That,” you hummed with a silly grin, “might be the smartest thing you’ve said all day, Roy.”

[dana-chan-the-control-brain]

Fnaf Movie thoughts!

I wanted to ramble some of thoughts and theories I had about the Fnaf Movie.

Cause the brainrot is real and won't leave my brain.

(wow just read back that sentence. Excuse any grammar errors or dumb shit, I'm still very sick)

Below the cut will feature heavy spoilers, so unless you want to be spoiled of the major twists this movie has, I would recommend wait to read this.

I unfortunately couldn't see the movie in my theatres, cause I got horribly sick and wasn't able to get the full theatre experience.

I was able to watch on Peacock, with all my fnaf plushies with a super sinus clogged headache, so that's the mindset I had. lol

Anyway.. Movie time

I absolutely LOVED Mike and Abby. First off.

I didn't even mind a lot of time of the movie was spent AWAY from Freddy's. Because so much is just about learning about Mike and his family and connection to Abby.

Sure, we could have spent the WHOLE movie at Freddy's. But that is not what this movie is about. And it's clearly trying to tell a bigger mystery and this felt a very introduction friendly entry point to anyone confused about the fnaf lore.

I love how completely obsessed Mike is with Dream theory. To the point he's taking heavy duty sleeping pills on his job that he clearly doesn't need and just is doing it so he can relive his dreams/fabricated memories.

The intro credits with the 8-bit style graphics of the minigames in fnaf2-4??? Like bro? I cried. That was so iconic and they fill in the backstory for the purple guy, who actually appears as his sprite??? Like... Man iconic.

Also... Dude... Mike Schmitt in the movie is like... what the Fans wanted Mike in the games to be for YEARS. Like... Mike in the games is nothing. He's a silent face. We know so little about him, and everything else is purely speculative. Even the whole "he was foxy bro and has regret over his brother" ...That's all theory and not confirmed. As far as we know, Crying child and his brother might not even be Afton kids.

But this Mike is EXACTLY the motivations we wanted Mike to have? If that makes sense? He laments his brother was taken at a young age and expresses regret and motivation to want to get him back. he has the motivations that the fandom built for him for years and ran with it, and I LOVE THAT.

FNAF Movie actually gives good reasons why Mike comes back every night, as said in Living Tombstone's iconic song "why do you want to stay?" Cause of his regrets with his brother and his obsession with dream theory and doesn't realize the animatronics are a threat until like... night four.

THE ANIMATRONICS?? THE PUPPETS??? THEY LOOK SO GOOD??? HECK YEAH!!!!

I SCREAMED when I recognized Matpat's voice, and then I saw his face. Reconized him for his voice WAY before I saw his face. I didn't think he'd have a speaking or face cameo and get to say his iconic "it's just a theory" line and about food too??? King shit.

Letting the animatronics have moments where they can just be cute and friendly as well as creepy and bloodthirsty is so great! I want to give them all pets.

THE CHILD ACTORS ARE ALL SO GOOD! To the point you don't even notice! It's often hard to get children to play a convincing performance, but these children acted really well! They must have a real talented director who knew how to get the best of their child actors. You don't even realize that the child actors are great, cause they're so good it's unnoticeable. AMAZING

VANESSA BEING WILLIAM AFTON'S DAUGHTER IS NOTHING SHORT OF BRILLIANT!!!!

I MEAN, I SCREAMED WHEN SHE SAID "William Afton My father"

I was screaming about this in my group chat.

I was screaming for a thousand years.

AND IT makes sense why the cops never found the bodies. Vanessa is a cop! She's covering for her father!

I absolutely LOVE what a girl failure Vanessa is too!

Like she shows up, HEAVILY flirts with Mike (like she was laying it on so thick my demisexual ass was picking up on her vibe) and just shows up to give him exposition on the FNAF lore. fheogheahf. Like. It's great.

(no doubt she was flirting heavily with Mike at the start due to manipulation from her father, I do believe it grows to genuine fondness later)

I've heard people complain about her flipflop nature... BUT THAT's the POINT!

(a literal arcade game in security breach.)

She let Abby play with the animatronics, knowing it was dangerous. Her original plan was to kill Mike, but she changes her plans when she sees he has a kid. (who she thought was his daughter at first) It was only after Abby got injured by Accident, she realized that what a danger she posed by brining them here at all. She only threatened to shoot Mike because she hoped that such an extreme threat would get him to quit. She even tells him about how many security guards quit. But it doesn't.

She even said she tried to warn in her own way. She's terrified of her father. And we get deep foreshadowing about that throughout the movie.

I really hope that in some sequels we will get to see Vanny at some point. Maybe even Springtrap and Vanny working together in the same movie??? CAN YOU IMAGINE THIS?!?!? I WOULD GO FERAL

Anyway, Vanessa is such a girl failure and my girl blorbo. I support her and her woman's wrongs

The minor look of regret after Will stabs his daughter... peak cinema.

The springlock scene... The quiet of the stabs, giving such a realistic collapse... the "I always come back" ...Embracing the monster he knows he is. He is the mask. He isn't hiding behind the mask, like he is being Steve. he is the mask now. Just... Chefs kiss.

The animatronics dragging springtrap away mirrors the ending of Silver Eyes so well, and I'm glad, because that was the best part of the Silver eyes. <3

THE LIVING TOMBSTONE GOT TOP BILLING FOR THE FIRST CREDITS SONG! PERFECT

Garret is 100% going to be the Puppet in the Movie Series. He was the one taken in the car, the spelling out in the minigame sounds at the very end says: "COME FIND HIM" And after Living Tombstone ends, the credits music fades into Grandfather's clock music box... Puppet's song..... Garret will be the Puppet in this universe and I so look forward to that.

I enjoyed the movie. I'm glad that they left the overarching mystery of Garret open to be explored in the sequel.

[kiatheinsomniac]

──── 𝐀 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ˊˎ -

☾ ⋆ ﾟ𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: I had brainrot sorry but I want this man to rail me in inappropriate places.... I should do a coffin next

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: The Undertaker | Adrian Crevan x Reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2.3k

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: NSFW content, smut, MDNI, sex in a morgue, slight body carving, biting/marking, creampie, can be read as a modern au

You looked so out of place and there was something alluring about it. 

You were laid back against the autopsy table, kicking your feet slightly as you patiently waited for your lover to shrug off his coat and pull on a pair of black latex gloves. You had been curious about his job as an Undertaker and so he thought: what better way than to walk you through it with you as the subject? 

Your heart leapt a little at the sight of him with his hair messily pulled back into a bun, his coat removed to reveal the sleeve garters around his arms, white sleeves pushed up his forearms and contrasting the black waistcoat and tight black trousers he so often wore. His style truly made him irresistible. 

“Now, usually I’d have to begin by washing the body.” He began as he leaned his hands on the table and towered over where you were laid down, “Though, I’m most often tasked with having to remove their clothes by cutting them off as I later dress them in whatever outfit I’m sent, I know how fond you are of this pretty skirt.” He let out a little hum as he tugged on the end of said skirt. “So let me take these off for you.” He needed no help to lift your hips in order to tug it down though you did sit up for him to remove your shirt. He left you in just your white cotton panties and baby blue bra for a moment, admiring your body. The lace of the bralette was so thin, it left absolutely nothing to his imagination as he watched your nipples pebble behind the sheer fabric. “These too, come on.” His voice drawled out and you began to wonder whether he was getting distracted or whether he had planned this all along. 

In all honesty, the Undertaker had fantasised about fucking you on this table for a long time now. He wanted the thrill of it, the memories of how you’d look and sound being fucked over the table that he would spend hours working at every day. Maybe such memories would make the days go faster? Maybe they’d remind him of what he had to look forward to at the end of the day? 

“There you go…” He eased you to lay back down as he folded your clothes up and set them aside. “Usually I’d get out some stronger stuff but…” He brought out a solution of sanitiser that he knew wouldn’t irritate your living skin. “I wouldn’t want to hurt my poppet.” His sentence was punctuated by a kiss to the tip of your nose and a little laugh from him as he stood over you once more. You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment at being naked and utterly exposed to him like this. 

“That’s cold!” You gasped out when it first touched your skin and he clicked his tongue before pressing a finger to your lips, tapping twice with a smile that was as seductive as it was mischievous. 

“I’m not a doctor, darling;” You took in a sharp breath through your nose when he resumed cleaning your body, “my patients don’t speak.” You did your best to lay still and quiet as he washed your body, fighting the urge to flinch at the initial coldness of the sanitiser against your heated skin. “Now…” He moves on to turn your arms so that they’re palm-up. Latex-covered fingers graze across your wrists, tracing the rivers of your veins beneath your skin, “This is the part where I’d start to drain out all of your blood from here-” His long nails bit into your wrist, even through the gloves he wore, “-or from here,” He then grazed his fingertips up over your arm and to your chest where your heart thumped heavily, making a little detour along the way to tease one of your stiff nipples, “and I’d replace it with a formaldehyde-based solution.” You gasped at the sight of a scalpel in his hands as his fingers ghosted over your abdomen. “I’d have to make an incision or two here to insert a tube so that I could pump you full of solutions to preserve and harden your organs. I’d then close them up and dress you again before I got onto makeup if necessary.” 

He leaned down to press a kiss against where the sharp scalpel had been hovering over your abdomen and you were surprised to see his lips come away smeared with a little bit of blood. You glanced down to the red lip print on your skin that was so slightly beading with blood still, surprised that he had actually cut you. 

“Of course, I cut my patients much deeper.” He clarified with a laugh at your shocked expression before he swiftly grabbed your legs and rotated your body so that you were laid sideways on the table with your legs hanging off. He then gave you no time to recover as he moved you so that you were now bent over it with your chest pressing to the cold metal surface, eliciting a shrill gasp from you at the sensation. 

“But, as much as I love my job, you’re far more interesting to have on my table. You see, you’re all mine and I get to hear all the sweet little noises you make, see how you squirm and twitch, isn’t that right, poppet?” 

You quickly nodded your head with a muffled mmh-hmm as those gloved hands firmly grabbed the softness of your ass, pulling you apart to get a view of your pussy that was now glistening from being so exposed to him and his touches. He hadn’t expected you to be so shy and embarrassed at being so exposed and vulnerable to him on his autopsy table and yet it seemed that you were just as excited by it as him. 

“Ah, another thing…” He began and you cast a little glance over your shoulder at him, finding those bright green eyes fixed between your legs, “Sometimes they don’t come in perfect shape… I might have to cover up bruising with some makeup or fix over some injuries with wax; you understand what I mean, don’t you? I usually have to inspect each patient thoroughly and it seems that you have an irregularity to all my patients right here so you’ll be good while I inspect it, won’t you?” You folded your arms beneath your head and buried your face in them as he angled your hips to face up a little more, his legs dressed in those heeled and high-climbing boots kicking your own apart before falling to your knees. “Won’t you?” He repeated, wanting to hear your submission. 

“I will…” You replied in a murmur, hips jerking just a little at the sensation of his breath on the back of your thigh. 

“Swelling…” He mused as though it were somehow just for him, like your thoughts on this were irrelevant even though it was only done for the sheer purpose of watching your arousal grow in the face of your own humiliation. His comment was joined by gloved fingers prodding at your pussy lips. “Flushed skin too…” He murmured at the rosy tint of your aching flesh. You let out a little whimper when his fingers glided through your slit, gathering wetness and stopping just short of your clit. “Wet too…” You keened at the faint pressure of his fingertips at your entrance. “I should see if I can determine the cause of that.” 

“Adrian!” You let out a cry of his name as his finger sank into you unexpectedly. It was rare that he ever fingered you, opting to usually make you touch yourself in front of his watchful eyes or for him to sloppily make out with your cunt before pushing his dick into you. His long nails wouldn’t allow you to comfortably be fingered by him, you’d only end up with scratched-up insides, but the gloves he was currently wearing protected you from such a risk and the feeling was so surprising, you felt your legs buckle for a moment. 

“Very warm too…” He added to his mental notes as he shallowly pumped his slender finger in and out, rotating it slightly to feel along your walls. You were moving just slightly and he could tell that you were doing your best to not squirm. He wanted to test your limits and so another finger was added to your dripping pussy, making the material of his gloves shine with your arousal. “Tight as well, that’s good.” You could hear the edge of a moan in his voice and knew that he was already imagining how you would feel wrapped around his cock. A squeaked moan left your lips when those fingers brushed over your sweet spot and you pushed your hips back slightly to meet his touch as he hummed in observation. 

You took a moment to ask yourself how you had ended up in this position. Genuine curiosity regarding his job had sparked these flames, yes, but who knew you could get so wet from humiliatingly having your pussy inspected by him like this as though you were just some subject or toy? A whine built in the back of your throat at the constant cycle of being turned on by your own humiliation.“Yes, I see what needs to be done…” You parted your lips to protest, only to let out a cry and try to grapple onto the table when he sank his cock into you in one merciless thrust. He wasted no time in firmly grabbing the curve of your waist to hold you still and stop your hips from hitting into the metal table when he began to deliver a punishing pace to your dripping hole that was already so close to coming around him from your prior stimulation. 

You could feel the way that he leaned over you, the way the band had fallen from his silver hair to allow it to spill over his shoulders and tickle at your back. You were reminded of just how exposed you were when his clothed chest pressed to your back just before his teeth sank into your shoulder, making you whimper at the pain. He messily licked over the small wound, saliva gathering in the indents of his teeth and cooling in the air, sending little shivers through you. It was the first of many marks to be left across your back, shoulders and neck, even going as far up as your jaw. One bite had been particularly hard and you jolted upwards against him, reaching your hands back in a split second to try and push him off of you. It was a futile attempt done without thought, really, as he quickly grabbed your wrists and pinned them to your lower back in one hand. You were given very little room to squirm as your body tensed with a sudden orgasm, walls tightly squeezing around the fat cock mercilessly gliding in and out of your dripping hole.

“Stay down…” He ordered in a low voice by your ear, keeping his lips there to allow you to hear every moan and word of praise he had for you. “Now…” He began as you began to tremble with the overstimulation, the sensation of your walls milking him causing his hips to falter in their pace, becoming sloppier and sloppier. “I couldn’t exactly fill you up with formaldehyde or glutaraldehyde but… I can fill you with something else instead.” A moan, edged with a whimper, left his lips at the sight of your overused pussy creaming around his aching cock, forming a ring at the base. You were so fucking pretty. His orgasm was only spurred on by your eager nodding and broken, whining little begs for his cum. Who was he to deny you after you’d been so sweet to take interest in his job and then had obediently sat through being the subject of his little demonstration? 

You let out a little pained noise at how unintentionally tightly he squeezed your wrists when he finally came inside of you, continuing to grind the head of his cock against your beaten cervix as he came deeply, fucking it all into you. 

“Adrian.” You squeaked out when you concluded that he didn’t realise he was hurting you. Bright green eyes fell to you before he let you go, lacing his fingers through those on one of your hands instead to give you an apologetic squeeze. 

“Sorry, poppet.” He murmured as he leaned down to press soft kisses across the reddening marks on your back and shoulders. “I got a bit lost in the moment.” 

“That’s ok…” You mumbled back, feeling sleepy. You felt him carefully ease himself out of you, leaving you slumped over the table for a mere moment before his coat was being draped over your shoulders and you were being eased upright. 

“Hold these.” A quiet command as he put your folded-up clothes into your hands, his gloves now removed. You were then swept up bridal-style and felt his lips press to your forehead as he carried you out of the morgue and into the entrance of his funeral parlour that had closed hours ago. 

You only opened your eyes to look up at his scarred face once he was laying you down in your shared bed upstairs. You reached up for him with grabby hands and watched as your reaction made him smile and laugh a little before he began stripping out of his clothes for you to see, immediately getting into bed with you and covering both of your bare bodies with a warm blanket. 

“You know… I had been expecting you to just talk me through the process or maybe invite me into the morgue the next time you work.” You murmured against his scarred chest as you rested your head there. 

“Hm, yes, but I thought that my method would be much more entertaining for the both of us, my love.” He punctuated his words by squeezing you a little with the arm that was curled around your waist. 

“I think you were right…” You hummed as you let yourself doze off with the sound of his heartbeat to lull you. 

☾ ⋆ ﾟlike my work? why not:  ∘ buy me a coffee?  ∘ commission me? ∘ join my taglist  ∘ consider following/reblogging

🏷️ @writing-noah @asianbutnotjapanese @kingheinrey @danielle-marie @yourfamilyfriendsatan @welcome2thesaltyspitoon @firagirl @lyn07

[idyllvcs]

WHAT A STRANGE.. NOVEL?

Ⅰ. AYATO X FEM!READER ⅠⅠ. TAGS : fluff, slight kissing, established marriage, fem! reader, uses of pet names like; my wife, dearest, darling, teasing (?idfk how to write people teasing each other) physical touch, overall ayato just teasing u for reading smut ⅠⅠⅠ. WC : 1.01k ⅠV. SYNOPSIS : ayato finds out you read smut lololol english isn’t my first language, sorry ! + and i didn’t do a spelling check V. A/N : ayato brainrot, like seriously and i haven’t written for what i hope is not more than 2.. months?

it’s not so strange for ayato to see your nose buried in whatever book you acquired from yae publishing house. for some reason, despite his qualities that you’d once described as vexing and almost mischievous, he had never pried into the light or heavy novels that occupied half your days. 

even on days when he ignores the piling mountain of his work with no hesitation to indulge in your touches and bury his face into your shoulder from behind, ayato would often let out a huff seeing how your attention span was sucked away by the novel in your hands. he’d argue he’s not the jealous type, especially over an inanimate object! yet curiosity kills the cat and he found his violet gaze scanning your bookshelf when you were away dealing with public affairs.

if there’s one thing you have learned, silence is never a good thing. perhaps in a scenario where your husband is burying himself in his paperwork or just sleeping soundlessly then maybe it is. however, after coming home, your eyes dart to his empty desk– he was not there. your mind wanders to whether he is sleeping– he does not sleep at this time. all questions were answered when you slid open the shoji door to your shared bedroom gently and were greeted with the delightful sight of ayato flipping through a novel you recently bought.

“...is that what occupies your free time, dear wife?” 

you found yourself getting flustered when your eyes glaze over the title. 

“so am i not allowed to read?” you asked with a clearing of your throat but there was a slight crack– a slight hesitation to your voice when the corner of his lips tugged into a cunning smirk. 

ayato shuts the book quickly with one hand, a gentle clap when the pages meet each other, and he places it down on a nearby surface. the rough pads of his fingertips brushes over the engraved title and he let out an amused chuckle. you, in contrast, let out a bemused one. he shook his head in response to the question. 

any pliant and naive person would feel relieved if they ever saw such answer but you are not ‘any pliant or naive person’-- you were his wife and you knew the lingering undertone in his gaze and demeanor all too well.

“you are allowed to read, i have no objections…” he trailed off and you mentally thanked the almighty shogun he didn’t flip to your marked pages, “however.. an erotica, really?” the finish of his sentence made you retract your thanks.  

“it is not an erotica.”

“your marked page says different.” 

“you have no business looking through my books–”

“--which i paid for with my allowance.” he always had won the back and forths of your banters. you were absolutely stuck in place and melting– if being frozen by both hydro and cryo slimes were difficult, you’d argue that this is much worse.

with a click of a tongue, ayato strides over to you; not failing to pick up your book and using it to raise your chin. your eyes narrowed, not in anger but in embarrassment, when you felt the paperback book brush under your chin and kept your head tilted to meet his gaze. 

“my, my... and to think this is what keeps my dear wife entertained after several hours of restless public affairs. i wasn’t aware yae publishing house has ventured into such risky taboo romantic tropes but i suppose everyone has surprises, hm?” ayato held his gaze with pride– almost a resemblance to cockiness because each and every second of this situation has done nothing but amused him.

“i– i am an adult with needs,” you barely stutter out, fingertips lacing together in an attempt to soothe your nerves. ayato didn’t fail to notice your slightly trembling voice and his free hand quickly found its way to your cheek. he lets out another chuckle, one that is slightly softer this time as he rubbed it. “and you did not think to voice your needs to me? i am more than happy to help you even if it means abandoning my work,” he responds quickly.

the statement makes you much more flustered and retracts your face from his palm, eliciting a tut from him. even in a year of marriage, you never fail to shy away from him– something which he would shamelessly admit that he liked using to his own advantage.

“it seems i’ve stunned you.” “shut up.”

“although… do you not feel any embarrassment buying such novels in broad daylight?” he asked with a toothy grin that showed off his pearly whites. you shook your head. it was true though, you’d never be able to live anything down if you had an awkward exchange with a worker at the publishing house. which is why you’re relieved you let your court lady or even thoma to do such tasks for you. 

“no..” you answered, this time with no hesitation but with the lie seeping through your teeth, “no, i do not.” ayato shrugged at your response and dropped the book on a desk nearby. quickly, he grasps your waist to pull you in closer. his head lowered next to yours to mutter into your ears– a predicament which, in all ways, makes your knees weak.

“i suppose you do not.. considering the fact you rely on your court lady or thoma to fulfil such tasks,” he mumbles. a small gasp leaves your lips at his knowledge towards this. “dearest, it’d be slacking of me to not know what goes around in my very own estate.” each tap of his fingers against your waist makes the heat crawl up your neck more. 

ayato pulled his head back and a softer smile graced his lips when he looks at you. he leaves several pecks on your stunned face and retracts his lips to see your reaction. “i am not judging you, however.. do try not to spend all your allowance on such trivial things.”

that comment earned him a harsh smack on his chest.

[ochrearia]

Angel Talk

Holy shit I have such bad brainrot for Peacock right now I need to blow up anyways here's bonding time for him and YS. I don't think I did a good job writing Peacock properly this time I started zoning out because I got derailed a bit. Sorry if he sounds like another BF more than himself

BFs in this one-shot: sfa!BF (Peacock, Shed's), Yourself (YS)

“When was the last time you went outside for some fresh air and sun?”

Peacock knew that YS was slowly making progress on moving forward from his grief and trauma, and all of that visible progress was great to see. But he was still a long way away from being properly ‘better’. So crossing through the mirror to find his brother huddled pathetically under his blanket in bed wasn’t surprising, but enough to make him still worried.

“Dunno.” YS mumbled with a weak shrug of his shoulders. “Haven’t needed to do anything outside of my apartment of late. Time is still a bit lost on me.”

Peacock sighed, walking over and sitting with his back to the side of the bed. “Come on big guy. There’s always something to be doing, you have a procrastination problem and you know it.” He watched YS pointedly look away before continuing. “Sun’s good for you. I’d say more so than a human considering how much time us angels are meant to spend in the sky.”

Right, he had to plan his words carefully here. Just because Peacock knew about his missing wings didn’t mean YS knew that he knew. The fact he had to essentially lie didn’t sit well in his gut, but the truth here was guaranteed to make him upset. That wasn’t what the other was here to do. However…

“Has something changed? We’ve all noticed but no one’s bothered to ask. You got so much more, like, affectionate all of a sudden. I never actually asked what kind of angel you are, since there’s multiple. Well, multiple in the world I come from, I guess I’m assuming that also is a feature for you.”

YS groaned, turning his head and burying it in his pillow. “I swear I am trying. Trying to ignore it because it’s fucking embarrassing. Stupid, annoying instincts. Dumb. If I was normal I wouldn’t feel embarrassed over it but I’d also not even be here if I was normal.”

“This is giving me little insight into what the fuck you’re actually talking about.” Peacock deadpanned lightly, reaching a hand over to poke at YS’s cheek and getting a chuckle out of the irritated grumble the action caused.

“Fine. Fine, I’ll tell, because it doesn’t matter and you already know most of my secrets anyway. I think. Probably. I didn’t tell you I was an angel so I’m assuming it works the same way as how I knew you were one without asking.”

“Well, yeah, that and Beefer came to me to talk about it a little.”

“That fucking lizard…” YS sighed, but there was no malice behind it. “Shows up seeing through absolutely everyone’s disguises like nothing and then doesn’t have time to slip away from his world much anymore. I’d go over there myself but he doesn’t want me doing that, says he can’t make time to get away from his Pico and GF long enough for them not to question it or see me for that matter. Miss that stupid idiot. Hope he’s okay… better be.”

Something about those last few sentences made something stir in Peacock’s head. “Wait a minute. Wait. Clingy, and apparently needing one of our brothers to be safe. Holy shit, you’re specifically a guardian angel aren’t you?”

“I didn’t!” YS started, before cutting himself off, huffing, and continuing quieter. “I didn’t plan on this happening. I didn’t even think it could happen, stupid fucking instincts, I don’t know if you have any of those. I don’t even know what kind of angel you are. Very great and fun biology prank built into my damn DNA or something. When I get attached to someone and start acting as theirs- their guardian angel I mean- makes me clingy as fuck. Possessive. Even more so than I already might have been in my own choice to care about someone. So I don’t slack off and not do my job or some stupid shit.”

“Well that explains the sudden change, then.” Peacock snickered. “Which one of us is it then? That you attached to, or whatever? Didn’t start that way so it happened recently. Do they know?”

YS paused, turning his head again and giving Peacock the most ridiculous stare. “You can’t be this stupid. Like we’re all dumb as fuck and that’s a universal attribute but there’s no way you’re this dumb.”

“Rude.” Peacock snipped back, but it was still underlyingly playful. What was he missing? Something big, clearly, from the incredulous look coming from his brother- Wait.

“Oh shit it’s everyone.” He cackled- he couldn’t help it, that was so fucking funny-

“Shut up.” Even with part of his face covered, the other could tell YS’s face was burning. “I’m opening up to you and saying things the majority don’t know yet and you’re laughing at me. Absolute betrayal.”

“Sorry!” Peacock gasped between his giggling. “Sorry, I’m not trying to laugh at you. I didn’t think guardian angels could attach to more than one person, much less thirteen of them. Don’t you think that’s a little much? Ooh, maybe not, if everyone found out you only got attached to a few instead of all there’d be so much offended fighting. But also that’d be hilarious to witness.”

“I didn’t plan on this.” YS insisted again. “You know my- um… she’s still around, her spirit is in my microphone. Doesn’t have a lot of energy to do much, but she allows me to be able to mirror walk. I’m still pissed everyone else can do it without the damn stipulations my version of it has. So dumb. I had started wondering why she was so insistent to push me towards you guys, letting me travel across universes and probably breaking several rules. It’s her fault. She knew before I did. Tricked me.”

There was something he was missing. Some piece of information that the other was refusing to mention, dancing around it instead and hoping what he was saying would be enough for Peacock to understand without it. Unfortunately for YS, he already knew. The big guy must have thought none of this angel stuff would still be able to happen without his wings. Looks like the universe proved both of them wrong.

Because if YS had truly lost his wings by being a Fallen angel, then that assumption would’ve been right. So he didn’t Fall after all.

But that meant something really had torn his wings off like Beef theorized. What could’ve possibly been cruel enough to do that? Like he’d said before, there were very few things strong enough to even do that. A Fall gone wrong, somehow? No, that wouldn’t make any sense either. Angels at least had enough sense to know that tearing off a fellow angel’s wings as a claim to “Fall” would end in them Falling too, no matter if the other deserved it or not. No sane angel would’ve done that.

No sane angel… No. No, nonono-

“Peacock?” YS’s concerned voice cut through his thoughts. “What happened? You got upset all of a sudden, did I say something?”

“No, it’s okay.” Damn, this guy was good, he could feel that happening? He really did attach to all of them. “Thinking about something. You know how it is.”

“Is it about your Pico again?” YS asked, moving to sit up. “Is it getting worse? Man, I really wish I knew how to help. I don’t know why that guy’s being so… stubborn.”

“Not that. You’re worrying yourself over nothing, you don’t need to get all worked up YS.” He didn’t want to have to start lying more than he already was, he needed to get this conversation derailed. Quickly. “Don’t think this has made me forget about my original question. You look like you haven’t seen the sun in months, man. You need to go outside. Stop moping around.”

The subject change seemed to work, YS returning to his silly grumbling. “I’m fine. There’s nothing interesting to be doing outside anyway. It’s comfortable here. Don’t want to get up.”

“Okay, are you bed rotting because you’re genuinely not feeling great right now, or are you doing it because it’s familiar?” Peacock asked.

“...Fuck. I need you idiots to stop being so smart.” YS rolled onto his back properly, rubbing his face with his hands. “Can I go outside tomorrow instead?”

Holy shit this guy was such a procrastinator. “Dude, you’re worse at taking care of your health than cleaning up your soda cans. It’s actually a mystery how you lived this long with how often you put things off until you start dying.”

“Not my fault the bed is comfy and I don’t have energy.”

“You don’t have energy because you’re staying in bed and not going outside!” Peacock exclaimed, exasperated. “Don’t even get me started on the times we have to almost beg you to fucking eat something. It’s not like we’re going to give up on you but can you at least try to make it less like pulling teeth?”

YS started playing dirty, pulling his lips into a pout. “Maybe the sun shouldn’t be outside then. The sun should come into my room directly and provide me the benefit without me having to move. That seems reasonable.”

“You’re a literal toddler.” Peacock sighed, letting off a few chuckles again. “Come on. You would be telling me the exact same thing if it was me. You wouldn’t let your brothers do this, not even for a second. You’d have us up and out of bed and protecting us while doing it, because you’re a stupid guardian angel and that’s your incentive. So… if that’s your incentive…”

“I don’t like the plotting going on right now.”

“You wouldn’t dare to keep doing something that would make your poor little brother upset, now would you?” Peacock grinned, really playing it up.

“I hate you.” YS groaned. “Biggest reason why I didn’t want to tell anyone about this. Because it’s abusable.”

“I have to find something to blackmail you with, Biff never told me what that secret was.”

“How the fuck have none of you let go of that yet. It is not that interesting and I’m never going to say it. There are better ways to get me to do something rather than subjecting me to lit up nerves.” YS paused, smacking a hand over his mouth a bit too late. “God dammit! Stop fucking around with the fact I don’t think before I speak!”

“I’m saving this information in my brain so fast.” Peacock replied, grin widening. “You’re actually ass at keeping secrets.”

“Did you only come here today to torment me? Is that your goal?”

“Nah.” Peacock said, standing up. “Came here because I care about you, big guy. Thought that would be obvious. Come on, get up, time for sunlight. Don’t make me drop my disguise just so I can drag you out of here by flight.”

“Do I get anything out of this if I agree?” YS asked, pushing himself up even more. “Or am I abandoning my comfiness for nothing?”

“Not nothing. You’re gonna get sunlight and it’s going to help you feel better, than isn’t nothing.” He paused, before adding: “And if you really need extra incentive, I could go for an hour-long hug from a guy who takes care of his health. Specifically a guy like that.”

The death glare Peacock got from YS as he fully got out of bed was incredibly worth it.

[guppygiggles]

Short little ✨thing✨ under the cut, because my brainrot over Avery is absolutely vicious at the moment, and I just had to spin a yarn over it. (Lee!Avery, foot tickling).

How would I tickle Avery? Oh, let me count the ways… 

If I could entreat him to put his large, delicate feet in my lap… Imagine, if you can, the softness of soles that scarcely ever grace the ground, for their light-footed owner’s penchant for hovering… as often as not, the shoes were merely a formality. Cool like porcelain, yet flushed cornflower at the pads and toes, you’d seldom chance even a glimpse at their tender undersides. 

Still, a sincere request would be dear enough to soften the sensitive cloud’s inhibitions; you’d need only ask, and he would stutteringly comply… even allowing you to remove his socks while he sat primly for you, submitting to whatever your designs might be.

I would not make him wait – starting at his heels, I’d drag my fingertips up the smooth length of his silky insteps, prompting a reflexive curl of his toes to accompany a bashful giggle. Dripping with sincerity, he’d be helpless but to titter out a “that tickles!” or “hey, wahahait!”, serving only to spur my hunger for his exquisite laughter.

My fingers would form gentle claws, beginning to scribble randomly along his pillowy skin, his feet wriggling in place with his effort to remain still. Shy giggles would yield to heartier laughter, his head tilting back as he filled the room with gleeful, unrestrained mirth. His knees would bend and twitch as he fought for control, hands curling into fists as they rested, trembling, on his thighs.

“Stay still for me, Avery…” I’d croon as I administered the playful torture, my spidery digits climbing up to his toes, skittering fiendishly into the soft valleys beneath. How he would howl, then… his body doubling forward as his arms moved to wrap around his torso, as if hugging himself would somehow assuage the tickly assault on his soles. With his ankles unfettered and heels resting on my leg, escape an evergreen option, the challenge would be self-imposed; how much could the compliant, shameless lee withstand? 

“You’re not ticklish on your toes, by any chance… are you?” A rhetorical question he’d bristle to hear, his eyes widening as that wonderful blue shade danced across his face.

“C-Casper, now, wahahait, you already know they’re… ah…”

I’d wait out his speechless squirming with infinite patience, watching the question tickle him inside. 

“They’re what…?” 

“T-ticklish…” He’d squeak, punctuating his admission with a tight curl of his pretty round toes.

“Oh, are they… Would it make you laugh, then, if I did something like this?"

My smooth nails would spring to life, scritching the pads of his toes, sending him into renewed, ticklish hysterics. Then, the delicious begging would start. 

“PLEHehehehease!” He’d whine, his feet squirming, shaking, and wiggling, one foot trying to shield the other, only to be doubly attacked with both sets of whirling fingertips. Then they would switch, the hidden foot dutifully taking its turn to endure the onslaught of affectionate torture.

“Please what?” I’d ask, knowing that sentence was one he’d never finish… and we both knew why. 

“CAHAhahahasper!” Desperation would cling to his voice as he’d cry out his response, glistening tears forming in the corners of his half-moon eyes, a warm, resounding belly laugh echoing off the living room walls. 

Heart soundly melted like a popsicle in the summer of his delight, I’d finally show mercy, massaging away the ticklish tingles from Avery’s obedient feet. A deep sigh would roll from him, endorphins mingling with relief as he’d lean into the arm of the couch, slipping into a heady state of bliss. I’d watch him relax, allowing him to enjoy my soothing ministrations for a while… before eventually, softly interrupting:

“Don’t get too comfortable, peach… after all… we haven’t even gotten to your other spots, yet.”

[seokmthw]

a little jealousy | kim jiwoong

⇢ pairing: jiwoong x reader

⇢ warnings: angst, insecure!reader, a smidge of fluff at the end

⇢ word count: 1.1k

prompt #27 "so why are you avoiding me?"

⇢ note: i have been in an awful jiwoong brainrot lately and saw this request in my inbox, so i knew i had to do it. i know one of the more recent-ish things i've posted was for jiwoong, but i just couldn't help myself lol. enjoy!

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god, were you stupid?

this was the nth time you’d gotten jealous over one of jiwoong’s co-stars, and it surely wouldn’t be the last. you knew it was part of his job to kiss her, you knew it was part of a script, but you couldn’t help but read into this time. the way he was a little more touchy feely with her for your taste was enough to send your mind reeling, causing you to overanalyze every single little interaction they had, because what if your gut feeling was right? she was absolutely stunning and could easily score someone like jiwoong.

your head was spinning; were you not good enough? was he starting to fall out of love with you? did you need to do something else to make his feelings for you reignite? to say that you were feeling a little insecure was an understatement. you felt silly even considering something so absurd, yet here you were, fully prepared for him to dump you within the next couple of days so he could be with her instead.

you tried your best not to let it get to you, really you did. but going home with him that night felt different, almost as if he wasn’t enjoying your presence all that much. maybe it was because his face slightly fell when he came off set to be excitedly greeted by you, or how he didn’t rest his hand on your thigh the entire drive home like he always did. somehow, you managed to keep yourself together, but the moment he declared he wanted to retire to bed early and didn’t shower with you, something snapped, and you were sliding down the back of the bathroom door choking on your sobs so he didn’t hear you. 

instead of immediately crawling into bed with him after your shower, you decided to pad out onto your balcony, plopping down onto one of the plush chair cushions as the crisp air of the night sent a shiver racing down your spine since your hair was still damp. you fixed your gaze on the glittering stars in the sky, a single tear slipping down your face as you thought back to the night’s events. your shoulders slumped, and you curled your legs up into your body as you wiped at the tears that were not flowing freely. 

you didn’t hear the glass door gently sliding open and had no idea that jiwoong had come to see where you were, worried you’d left the apartment without informing him at all, until he made his presence known by quietly saying, “y/n?”

you sniffled softly, wiping the rest of your tears before finally glancing up at him, “hm?”

“what’s wrong, baby?”

“oh, so now you want to ask that?” you scoffed, “took you long enough to even notice something was wrong.”

jiwoong’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, the confusion on his face hard to miss as he was finally able to muster up his sentence, “what are you talking about? i noticed something was up the moment i was done filming today.”

“so why have been avoiding me?” you challenged, your voice firm, “you know, since apparently you’ve known something was wrong this whole time?”

“i just figured you wanted some space, is all. i decided to come out here now so i could talk with you and see what was bothering you,” he attempted to explain, but you just shook your head at him, “y/n, i really don’t understand what’s going o-”

“do you have feelings for her?” you cut him off. 

jiwoong blinked at you, trying his hardest to register what you just said, “what?”

you rose to your feet now, starting to pace within your little bubble. you knew this was probably going overboard, but you just needed to know so you could prepare your heart for whatever was to come in the future, “do you have feelings for your co-star?”

“absolutely not,” was his immediate answer. you felt relieve wash over you for a moment, only for it to be replaced with panic the moment jiwoong opened his mouth again, his brows furrowed and a look of betrayal evident on his face, “i’m hurt that you would even so much as accuse me of such a thing. i have been nothing but good to you.”

“jiwoong, i need you to understand it from my point of view, please,” you begged, taking a couple of steps toward him, hands outstretched in a futile attempt to grab his, “you were just so handsy with her, and then afterward when i felt like you were avoiding me, it just put a little bit pf doubt in my mind.”

he yanked his hands from your grasp, the frustration with you fully settling in by now, especially as he barked, “it’s called acting, y/n! maybe you should give it a try sometime, yeah?”

tears burned at the corner of your eyes, threatening to fall at any given moment. it was rare for jiwoong to ever raise his voice at you, so you honestly never knew how to handle it when it did occur. it took a lot for him to get angry enough to resort to something like this, so you were feeling awful about yourself. your voice cracked as you answered him, “you don’t have to be so aggressive.”

“i’m being aggressive? you’re the one who barely said a word to me when we left the set. you’re the one who accused me of having feelings for someone i barely speak to when you know damn well that i love you. do you know how badly that hurts?” it was jiwoong’s turn to shed a few tears, his posture rigid and any attempt you made to touch him being rejected almost immediately. guilt flooded your entire body as you processed his words.

he was right, and you knew it. 

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, feeling yourself relax at the way his eyes softened upon hearing your words, “i really am. i was just feeling a little insecure and i shouldn’t have assumed something more was going on.”

“oh baby, come here,” he stretched his arms out, allowing you to fully melt into him as he secured his arms around your shoulders and planted a sweet kiss on your forehead. he sighed, “i’m sorry, too. i shouldn’t have gotten so into my own head and i should have listened to you instead.”

the two of you stood like that for a while, the chill of the air unable to be felt because of the warmth radiating off of jiwoong. the delicate chirps of the crickets and the distant calls of the owls was the only thing able to be heard other than his heartbeat, and you felt more content now than you did earlier.

you knew as long as you had jiwoong, everything would be okay.

[fatuismooches]

heyyy basically

i’m feeling absolutely shit rn bc i’ve worked myself into an utter state (god i’m praying i don’t faint after my exam and nullify it) so like what better to do than to come up with a brainrot

just imagine, it’s fragile! reader and they’ve got an upcoming assessment, biggest of the semester but fuck they just can’t study. their headaches are debilitating and constant but they push through anyways because god they need to get that score. they can’t fall behind now. and dottores been watching you all day, he knows he can’t get in your way, you were practically unstoppable; it was one of the things that drew him to you in the first place. but rn? god rn seeing you like this planted a strange feeling in his cold excuse of a heart and he knew he couldn’t just leave you like this. without a word, he saunters over, and gently pries the quill from your hands, you protest but you haven’t the energy for much more really and so you let him. you let him guide you to the bed and you let him lay you down and slip in next to you. he wasn’t a man who thought much of ‘cuddles’ or whatever the hell you called it. yet he wraps his arms around you, gentle yet so firm you’d think a breeze could snatch you away. yet he cradles a hand behind your head and runs his fingers through your tresses, combing out knots, combing out stress. yet he presses you against him and lets the unspoken reassurances flow onto you through the way he pulls you under his sanctity. ‘don’t break yourself’ whispered his fingers as they traced meaningless alchemical symbols on your skin. ‘you’re perfect the way you are, you don’t need to do this’ reassured the proximity between the two of you. the only word that was vocalised between in the quiet sanctuary was your name. there it hung, palpable and present in the air. and nothing more was needed to be said

LOL SORRY THAT WAS SO LONG, can u tell i’m dying for comfort rn 😭

HOPE THAG MAKES IP FOR MY ABSENCE LMAOO

-🌕💗

🌕 ANON?? THAT FIRST SENTENCE IS VERY ALARMING PLEASE REST??? Studying and working are important but you and your wellbeing are more important 💖 Balance is key, please make sure to relax 😔 But the brain rot? *chef kiss*

If you had the energy to, you'd laugh at how poor your situation was. This... mysterious illness of yours just had to appear when finals were right around the corner. If it was just a cold or a slight fever, you could have worked through it, just as you had many times before, but this pain was unlike any you ever had endured. But anyway, surely you could get through this. It was only a few more days, and you absolutely had to do good. Especially since this professor was notorious for his long and complicated exams. Especially because you couldn't bear to think what would happen if you fell behind. What Zandik would think of you.

You could always tell when Zandik was looking at you because anyone really could feel the piercing stare he gave off. You two studied in the same room but in different spaces for maximum concentration and organization. You used to ask him questions and such but you've been far too quiet now for his liking after since you became sick. And while he does admire how perseverant you are to knowledge, he does not enjoy forcing you to go to sleep or watching you barely touch your food while studying. Even he has to acknowledge the limitations of humanity. No human can properly function like this.

The silence he used to crave becomes unsettling, and he shall tolerate it no more. You don't even notice him coming up behind you, thinking he's too focused on his own stuff, so when your pen is plucked from you rather easily you're surprised for a good few seconds. You're opening your mouth to protest but the words don't come out when you see the expression on your lover's face. Zandik gives you a look that you have only seen a few times but understands well - the one where he will have his way, he won't take no for an answer.

So when he pulls you from your desk and lays you on the bed, you can't help but mutter some grumbles as to how you were perfectly fine, and he did this kind of stuff before so why couldn't you do it, which he promptly shuts you up with a flick to the forehead and soft blankets. He doesn't verbalize it but it's because you are clearly tired and sick. You are sick with something he doesn't understand for once in his life and he cannot seem to find any kind of information or research or anything whether it was from hundreds of years ago to a few. And you are pushing yourself through it with no knowledge of the consequences, and no knowledge means no predictability. And then means there is uncertainty which he does not like when it comes to you. For once, he is unsure. Zandik does not enjoy that feeling.

When he initiates the act of cuddling you are surprised but do not question or tease him for once, as comfort was what you desired the most now. Your senses were all hazy from the onslaught of illness and studying and he was being so un-Zandik-like but you lived for moments like these. Your brain had trouble processing his movements but he was doing all the things you enjoyed, fuzziness and heat warming your body. You could make out the lines being drawn on your body, a habit he tended to do unconsciously. The rubbing of your skin in the sore places from studying nonstop. No words needed to be said. Zandik wasn't very adept with flowery words anyway, and you preferred it that way. This meant more than words could convey, and you fell asleep quickly in your beloved's arms.

Zandik looked at you, completely knocked out with not-so-subtle eyebags. Your painfully weak grasp on his shirt. You were far smarter than what a test said anyway. He himself knew that for sure. Maybe that final of yours will be postponed. Better yet, canceled. He'll see what he can do.

Whenever I'm in Sumeru I'm always reminded of how I'd NEVER EVER join the Akademiya because of how hellish it seems, so much work and years to graduate, too much thinking, way too many smart people there who would talk circles around me, uniform, studying, failing, no sleep, and then there are students like Layla barely surviving 😭 I have no talent but sign me up for theater 🙏

Anyway... I appreciate all short and long brain rots, they're so 🥰 I wish I could provide more comfort but... *hugs you* <33

[petchic101]

Burn the World to Ash

Oops I wrote an Astarion brainrot one-shot? Whaaaaat. Basically what if Tav was an old acquaintance of Astarion's in high society and she was just another victim of the rich and powerful.

Fluff and Angst No smut in this one folks

Word Count: 5371

This is also kind of a trauma dump, how the body reacts to trauma, and how the body reacts when you are dying of blood loss.

TW: eludes to SA and Abuse // Blooood // Death

Enjoy! Please let me know if you want to see more, I have my main play through with my sex positive wood elf xAstarionxHalsinxEmpororxHaleep that I have a tone of ideas for! (mostly smut)

_____________________________________________________

The sun shone brightly on the coastal cliffs as Ren saw an old acquaintance from Baldur’s gate. It pierced off his white locks and pale skin quite vividly. She hadn’t remembered seeing him in this light before, perhaps any light before if she was honest. The high society parties Lorroakan often dragged her to were usually twinkled with firelight after the sun had set. The pale elf had never paid her any attention, odd considering how Lorroakan often paraded her around, dressed provocatively enough to draw any and all attention inevitably towards himself. None of Cazzadors magistrates would flock to her and her master like the other nobility would, even Cazzador himself would stop to pay her false compliments, kiss her hand or smell her hair before talking to the Wizard that kept her. Her eyes had drifted up one of these times, the pale elf stood frozen, staring. Neither daggers nor jealousy met her eyes, but a primal… fear, one of not knowing what was going to happen next.

Suddenly she was on the ground, a knife to her throat, she froze. “Shhhh not a sound, not if you want to keep that pretty little neck of yours.” Her first instinct was to go limp, to comply. He seemed to notice her body language and pressed his knife closer to her, propping himself to get a better angle. He hadn’t yet looked at her as his head turned to her newest companion. “Now you, I saw you on the ship, yes? I need answers or your darling companion will pay the price.

Shadowheart’s fist clenched. “Let her go or I swear to all that is holy-”

“Ah ah ah.” Astarion tsk’d as the dagger pressed to Ren’s neck drawing blood.

“Astarion, yes?” Ren wrapped her hand around the hand holding the knife to her throat. His reaction was knee jerk to the touch and she was slashed. But the attack was sloppy and she was able to roll away with minimal damage to her neck. He quickly jumped to his feet, still holding his dagger at them. “How do you know my name?” He hissed, panic in his red eyes, but they finally registered the girl in front of him. “Gods, your Lorroakan’s pet.” He spat the sentence then sighed rolling his eyes as he hilted his dagger, putting his hands up. “Apologies.” Suddenly the parasite in her head lurched, taking in the quick memories passed between them, not of nights of merriment but a feeling of fear while skulking moonlit Baldur’s Gate. They all held their heads, not used to the sensation. Before a full recovery could be had, Astarion pointed at her, still palming his eye. “You’re some sort of magic witch, explain this!”

Ren looked at him dumbfounded. This beautiful magistrate, plucked from the eves of high society and dropped in the middle of nowhere, why he looked absolutely displaced, a hilarious spectacle. She started laughing, almost keeling over, the somberness of the events were placed on a backdrop of nonsensical impossibilities. Like watching a play where only one of the actors was stuck in song.

Her companions stood awkwardly not knowing what to do, but Astarion puffed his chest, not liking the thought of someone not taking him seriously. “No, no, none of that, do you know what’s going on or not?”

That night at camp things were much calmer, they had managed to gather six survivors from the crash so far, including herself, oddly all of them capable of some form of martial ability or magic. Astarion sauntered up to her while she was alone, much like he did to others at those frequent parties. “How funny it is to run into someone we’ve met before, yes?” His voice was melotic, hypnotizingly so. It hit chords not unlike Cazzadors or Lorrorakan’s but much sweeter all the same.

“I suppose so.” So much had happened today she had almost forgotten how to put on her show, the one she did for high society, it was not something she was hoping to have to do when in a life or death situation. She tried to match her tone to his, a sweet harmony to keep up appearances. “I’m especially surprised you recognized me Sir, we barely saw each other in passing, odd considering how close our patrons are.” She added her own little barb at the end, something Lorroraken would have whipped her for, but he wasn’t here and this man had avoided her like the plague ever since their first meeting.

Astarion paused, perhaps not expecting his tone to be matched so quickly, or perhaps because the barb had actually stung, but she doubted it. He grabbed her hand, bringing it to his mouth. “An error of judgment on my part I’m sure.” As he went to kiss it she ripped her hand from his before she could think. He looked up, shocked. Shit. The fear must have shown on her face, she had just insulted a magistrate, one with a very powerful patron. His face softened but she quickly stood up, giving a slight bow.

“I am sorry Sir, I must be delirious from today’s events.” She straightened herself as he stood next to her. His gaze slowly took her in, her dress was badly torn, exposing old bruises that she probably hadn’t even noticed, was he feeling pity? She was just another victim of the politics inside of the city. She was lucky that Cazzador had banned them from hunting her, she was certainly a beauty, an innocent looking one that would seek comfort in his arms, and Astarion would have been happy to oblige until handing her to her fate. But she was not one of his victims, she was an easy ally to keep, he needed to make sure his grip was tight.

“Don’t be darling, today’s events have all of us out of sorts, perhaps tomorrow we can meet again as allies and not as magistrates and apprentices.” The worms communicate feelings of relief between them and she nodded hesitantly.

“Out here I’m not, how did you put it? ‘Lorroraken’s pet’?” She smirked. A warning, if he were to go to his master about some sort of insult, she could go to hers with the same claim, and this put them truly on equal ground.

Astarion grinned knowingly. She was not the pushover he had been hoping for, but someone formidable makes for easier travel than dragging some tag along noble. In all honesty though,  he could not stop thinking about tasting the blood off of his blade that night. 

_______________________________

The group had made Ren the de facto leader, almost from the fact none of them were willing to step up. Except Laezel of course,  but even she could tell these istyk would only follow one of their own. Karlach was a soldier, Wyll and Gale are self conscious loners with complex mommy or daddy issues. Shadowheart couldn't even remember her favorite book. And of course Astarion preferred the shadows. He did not think she would take to the role well considering how presumably sheltered she was. But her lessons in the nobility paid off, her quick wit in forms of persuasion were a sight to behold. She would not hesitate to use their new powers to get the edge up on whoever they were at odds with, making Astarion wonder if that was a technique her master had taught her to utilize before. She eased into the parties multiple personalities quite readily,  she melded with these people in ways he could not, or perhaps would not. They flocked to her, she was altruistic,  but willing to do what had to be done,  she listened to everyone's problems and promised loyalty and companionship,  she even helped prevent two of their new friends from exploding.  Doing it once would have been a feat in itself,  but it's weird that it happened twice. 

But something that caused Astarion much grief was that she would always find a way to include him,  even when he and the others had a silent understanding that he was better off being alone. Not that she did this all the time,  she gave him plenty of space, but group decisions were always made with the whole group present, his exasperated sighs usually being his only input aside from his snarky comments. He felt himself comforted though,  how she would put herself as a physical barrier between him and the group,  not in an intimidating way,  just something that she picked up on that made him more comfortable.

These past few days they had set up camp in caves or dungeons,  he hadn't hunted beforehand and he cursed himself for it. He was not used to being surrounded by blood this often, the constant smell was intoxicating, especially hers after he had that small snack off of his dagger after their first meeting, and even a small suckle of old blood from her had been the best thing he tasted in 200 years. 

The battle before they set up camp was particularly vexing, they had killed all of the goblins in this abandoned temple,  but fighting that damned drow was a whole ordeal. Ren had stepped in front of him, mage armor made her especially stupid, he was in and out of the shadows usually,  firing sneaked shots in critical places,  but that damn scrying eye stayed on him. Shadowheart had to grab Karlach who had been pushed off the rickety bridge, a half dead goblin still on their tails, the bear kept him occupied though.  He and Ren had been cornered by the drow leader,  but she stood in front of him, quarterstaff defending as rapier and dagger slit her skin, sometimes her magical armor deflected but not enough. She then was quite literally shoved into him, he hit the bookshelves behind them, barely managing to grab her so she wouldn't take the brunt of the force. In doing so her blood had covered him,  bathing him in the sweet smell as his head hit the shelf. Minthara knew this would buy her time and swung to help her companion, not wanting to get overwhelmed from behind. 

Ren seized in and out of consciousness as he fished for a healing potion, he sat them up quickly holding her waist tight so she would stay upright. "Don't die on me now."  He shifted her so he could feed her the potion her hand lifted, cupping his as she drank it. It was one of the more potent ones,  his from the equally shared that were divided amongst them but he didn't care. He needed her to lead this rag tag group,  he needed her alive. He needed to see her smile again, watch her facade slip as she genuinely laughed around a campfire. He needed her. 

The battle finished, all of them nearly dead as Halsin gave some over enthusiastic praise. Shadowheart was out of healing spells, but she managed to patch Ren up for the most part, dried blood and dirt caked her but exhaustion took hold and she fell asleep on top of her bedroll as soon as they got back.  The scent of blood permeated around him. He tried to meditate, read, perhaps relieve himself in other ways,  but nothing worked. And suddenly he was over top of her. Crawling on his hands and knees like some wild cat stalking its prey. He had never indulged himself.  Even when Cazasdor ate in front of him,  letting the blood, off whatever thinking creature, pool on the floor.  He never dared try and lap some up for himself. But tonight he was free, and tonight he was hungry. The campfire casted an uncomfortable spotlight on him as he looked around, no one was awake,  but the light hit him like the heavens judgment for the monster he was. He started with her hand,  lifting it gently,  then a little more fervently to make sure she was asleep. When she didn't stir he slowly started licking her.  Carefully at first then his hunger took over, he lapped his tongue over her uncovered wounds, scraping his teeth against her scabs to hopefully satiate the overwhelming instinct to bite and suck. As skin off her waist broke and as new blood pooled into his mouth he moaned, his hands formed into fists as he shifted his weight to get a better angle. But spawn or not his saliva was still a natural coagulant, and her wounds were shallow compared to what his teeth could do.  As they closed he cursed, sitting himself up and wiping his mouth. And there he saw her bright blue orbs staring at him. The fear of prey written on her face.

"Shit" how did he not hear her heartbeat speed up, for how long she had been awake. He scooted away as she sat up. "It's not what it looks like I swear." He stuttered out,  his regular vibrato gone. Ren rubbed her eyes. The shock of adrenaline to her system had woken her up, but the blood rushing to her head made it feel like it was going to explode.

"It better be what it looks like Astarion." Her voice was a whispered hiss. For some reason she was not trying to wake the others. He waited, confused,  for her to continue. "You were trying to feed I hope, not taking advantage of me, well, not in that way I suppose." She was too calm,  like she hadn't woken up to him feasting on her like a cat lapping up spilt milk.

"Excuse me?" He managed to spit out as the realization hit him. "You knew!? This whole time!? You knew and you didn't even mention it? Not once?" His face scoffed and his nose squiggled up his face making her roll her eyes.

"You're not exactly subtle, Astarion. Though I suppose you only have genuinely smiled around me, the others haven't noticed but you have, let's say, some rather large teeth." She was smirking now,  catching their mysterious companion off guard was quite a feat. He sat more relaxed now as she propped herself up, looking at the wounds. "Closed" she whispered to herself unsurprised.

"I'm sorry I didn't realize I was traveling with Baldur Gate’s local vampire expert!" Astarion flailed his hands making her laugh. But it was a dry one as if she was lost in thought. 

"It's not my… first time being fed on,  Astarion." The words were heavy in her chest as he froze, letting her continue. "Lorroakan would blindfold me and have some of his 'special' guests feed on me sometimes.  I don't know if it was one person or multiple." She trailed off. And her eyes grew dark. "Lucky me, a wizard of that caliber always has plenty of revivify scrolls laying about." Astarion felt the rage grow inside him. Cazzador would force them to hunt for his meals almost nightly,  then would still feel the need to indulge himself at his friend's homes!? Astarion gave a dry laugh that turned hysterical. He covered his mouth to keep the noise under control. 

"I can assure you it was but one man, if you can even call him that. "

"Cazzador." She whispered it as a statment. They paused for a short while. "So you never…" she trailed off. 

"No darling,  Cazzador kept us on a diet of Rats and whatever other stray animals we could get our claws on. 'The blood of the thinking creature is not for scum such as ourselves.'" He quoted his old master with venom on his tongue.

"Then have you ever?"

"No darling, I have not eaten anyone." A guilty look passed over his eyes as he looked at her.

"Then how was it?" The question came out of her so simple,  so mundane,  as if he had just tried a new flavor of pie.

He was taken aback before reflex kicked in and he went back to his suave character. "It was, dare I say, decadent."

She easily fell back into her own character, letting the reality of what they had just admitted to each other fade into the background. "You could have asked."

The frivolously bantered about the possibility of him getting staked before he would ask permission, but he ended it on a serious note. 

"I suppose I should ask then, I can feel like it will unlock my potential, I can prevent things like today from happening, protect you." He offered, licking his lips. 

She thought about the times Cazzador had sucked her dry, when the blood in your body fades, your heart goes on overdrive,  thinking it's doing something wrong, but all of your muscles lose control, the wet of sweat coats your body as you are both in the most relaxed state and more panicked than ever before. It is not a slow death, internally screaming as your body is paralyzed. Fingertips and toes go completely numb, nerves shoot pain up and down your arms and legs until eventually you're asleep. 

Astarion watched her dissociate into the memory as he grabbed her hand. "I won't kill you I promise." His eyes were genuine, knowing the pain from the memory she was going through.

"I want to try." More than anything she wanted her body back, she wanted to make the decision to say yes, so this memory would not always be burdened with the knowledge she never gave consent.

He sat up, too quickly, too hungry. She flinched but relaxed as he did not move to grab her, allowing her full control. He was handsome, she had always thought so, romance stories of vampires and their mortal prey were often read in her younger years, and though that fantasy had been spoiled by the reality she faced, she longed to set herself in that naive state of mind. 

Out of many of the nobles he had always stood out to her.  She would never inflate his ego by telling him this,  but when the attention was finally off of her and she had served her purpose as a conversation starter for Lorroakan, at the end of the evening she would find herself watching him,  how he danced and charmed his way to any and all lads and ladies that surrounded him. It was quite a spectacle. And here he was, all of that grandiose attention on her, well, her blood to be exact, because she was willing and he was able. She grabbed his hand, leading it around her waist. He started to lean in, to move them into a laying position, so he could pierce her neck. But she stood firm and he complied, not pushing her. "Is this alright?" She offered him her wrist. His smile was wide, devious, and happy.

"Of course my sweet, however you are comfortable. This is a gift,  I will not soon forget it." He wrapped his arm tighter around her waist as he grabbed the hand she offered him. Planting kisses from the palm of her hand to her upturned arm. She gave out a squeaked moan as she made herself comfortable in his lap. He purred at the noise, giving her neck and jaw some approving pecks, his own excitement starting to harden in his trousers. She bit her lip, burying her face into his neck, pecking his skin before giving a comfortable hum, rubbing her hips,  happy by the fact she excited him. "Are you ready?" She nodded into his shoulder as her body tensed. "I need to hear you say it aloud." His command caught them both off guard but in the best way possible.

"I'm ready." She braced herself as his teeth pierced her wrist, it was slow, intentional, he did not want to hit bone. Blood started spilling out before he could begin drinking,  making the first few seconds of his meal desperate slurps,  like a man trying not to spill his wine. But he settled into a rhythm, letting her blood coat his tongue. The vibration of his satisfied hum on her skin gave her goosebumps. The pain quickly set itself to a low drone, the moment felt more intimate than anything she had felt before. She had always loved serving others, but in her most formative years her choice to do so was taken away, her forced servitude to anyone her Warden wanted had made her forget about that side of her. This gave her the same joy that voluntarily helping the tieflings gave her. And it was her choice to do so. She peered up from his neck, her head light from the blood loss and the moment. His eyes were closed, the corners of them wet. Without thinking she licked one of his tears away, slowly and gently. This pulled him out of his stupor and he looked at her blankly, in shock.

"Vixen." He grumbled under his breath,  turning back to her pierced flesh to lick the wound closed. His tongue flattened over her skin again and again. She merely stared at him in awe as he occasionally would look to her, a grin flashing on his open mouth as he finished cleaning her. She rested her head back into his shoulder, suddenly exhausted again.

Half conscious she felt him lift her, she felt him cleaning the dirt and blood from her body after he removed her armor, the cloth damp but not cold. She woke up the next morning, still clothed but slightly dizzy, her brain needing to work a little extra hard to find the words she needed. Astarion sat across the cave, reading as usual, but this time no wine in his hand, his gaze only going to her once, smirking after her most likely large plastered smile met his gaze.

________________________________

The tieflings sang and danced throughout the camp, Ren showed a genuine smile, but when she thought no one was looking, a tired half smile placed itself on her face. This was his moment to do what he did best, use his body to earn more of her trust. Besides, he owed her his own body after she had given him hers.

She sunk back, out of the natural circle that surrounded the fire. The tired closed mouth smile carved into her face like stone. As Astarion managed to sneak behind her, he gently grabbed her arm, she thrashed around as if to hit him, most likely instinct. He caught her wrist, putting a finger to his mouth. She let out a breath of relief to see it was just him, but he did not release her, the feeling foreign. She let her arm go limp and he wrapped her hand to his back, letting it rest, her reaction was not flustered but she certainly wasn’t resisting, so he continued. “This is an awful ruckus compared to what we are used to, yes?” He grabbed her other hand in his, and spun them away from the fire and into the shadows. “The wine is pig swill and the devil spawn are loud. Shall we perhaps have our own fun?” His eyes adjusted to the darkness and her face was not blushing, not eager, it had set back to the closed mouth smile.

“Of course sir, if that is what you desire.” The sing-song of her voice was broken, cracking, like a lute slightly out of tune. He released their closeness, stepping back to access her, he left her fingertips in his, so he could pull her back in if need be. He gazed at her, up and down, something was so familiar about how she was behaving, but he could not place it, perhaps she reminded him of a victim from long ago? Her voice brought him back to reality. “Your tent is further from current company.” He nodded and led her there, taking both of her hands to lead her inside, shifting himself around so that she could get a comfortable spot inside.

“Now I will say this is not the lavish rooms we are used to but it will do the job.” He turned to close the tent behind them, by the time he turned back she was already pulling her tunic off her shoulders, exposing her breasts. “Oh my, eager are we?” no something about her movements were practiced, stiff.

“Sorry sir, did you want to undress me?” His eyes widened as he finally placed the familiar feeling. In 200 years he had not been able to look in a mirror, but here stood his reflection, when the body and soul split to do whatever needs to be done. He was not seducing a young woman into trusting him, he had brought a husk into his tent. He silently cursed himself as he slipped her blouse back around her, buttoning the buttons. Her eyes widened, he could feel her fight or flight kicking in as her body tensed. How did he not see it before? He knew that the wizard abused her, but because he had not cared, didn’t mean she was not a person who wasn’t affected by it. She quickly grasped his hands, squeezing to prevent herself from shaking. “Y-you’re doing it wrong.” A ragged whisper escaped her lips.

“Hush now.” He growled, not at her but at himself, her flinch though told him she could not tell the difference. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he finished dressing her. “And stop calling me sir, I am no master of yours.” He paused as she looked at the ground her hands gripping her shirt tightly. “I may have miscalculated the type of fun I was willing to have tonight, my apologies.” She looked, hurt, no, terrified, as if she had done something wrong. He had been enslaved to act the predator, but she had been caged to act as prey.

“Did I do something wrong?” A panic had set into her voice, as if not fulfilling this role could end in something much worse.

When Astarion was done buttoning her he paused, sitting back on top of his calves. He waved his hand dramatically. “Of course not my sweet, you are perfect.” He was still putting on the false voice when he spoke, perhaps actions would speak louder. “Do you trust me?” They both knew she didn’t but all he needed was the nod of acknowledgment she gave him. He took off his shirt as she sat up from her half lying position. He did not want her to see his shame, not yet, no sob story needed to be poured into her lap tonight, but something in him wanted her to know she was not alone. He held his hand out, allowing her to choose to take it if she wished. 

After a slight hesitation, she matched his sitting position and placed her hand in his and he swiftly guided it to his back, where she could trace his scars. Her eyes widened as she leaned forward to get more comfortable, he grabbed her other hand to help her balance as her fingers gently traced his greatest shame. He struggled not to flinch but his body slowly relaxed under her touch. He gathered the strength to glance down at her face, her lips were pressed tight together but her eyes stared past him, she was not trying to peek at what she was feeling, for which he was more than grateful for. Her neck was strained, a perfect position for a bite. But he shouldn’t be thinking about that now.

After what felt like an eternity of silence she pulled back, he was grateful her eyes were not full of pity but understanding. “There, it seems that high society is not always kind to itself.” His mouth was strangely dry as his voice verged on cracking. Ren nodded. She didn’t have to ask how he knew, the scars she had traced seemed purposeful, almost runic, but she did not want to push him further. His hand that had caught hers to help her balance felt strangely more connected than when she had her shirt off earlier. So she didn’t let go of it and squeezed. “This wasn’t for me you know, I wanted to do something. Something to thank you for the gift you had given me earlier.”

She blushed, neither of them were looking at each other, a strange comfort hung in the air not having to put up their acts. “Astarion, you don’t owe me anything.” She whispered, still holding his hand, their fingers interlocked. You didn’t just take my blood that night, you allowed me to make that choice. That is a finer gift than I have received in many years.”

Astarion sat confused, watching her fingers stroke against his, merely two people getting used to positive touch again no doubt, nothing more. “Than why did you agree at all? If it was merely the decision, you could have, I don’t know, decided to say no, and taht would be that.” He was so used to talking with his hands he accidentally threw hers up as he didn’t let go and she laughed, being thrown off balance for merely a second. But she finally let go and layed down on his many pillows, her head slightly propped up.

The flustered look on her face surprised the vampire. “I wanted to hear you moan again.” she mumbled. He laid next to her, eyebrow cocked dramatically. “Darling there are much easier ways to get a man to moan than feeding him parts of your body.” He was not going to let himself seemingly blush from her confession.

Her laugh was dry. “You never seemed interested in me that way, and besides, I’m… I don’t know if I even want to do that, I tend to shut down.” He nodded knowingly.

“I wasn’t interested in you my dear because everyone I had sex with was eaten and killed. Lorroakan had requested you be left alone. Ironic considering what he let Cazzador do to you in that tower of his.” She listened, taking in Astarion’s words his frustrations. She wrapped her arm around his shoulder, pulling him to her chest, where his rigid form eventually relaxed. She kissed his forehead.

“I don’t think either of us need pity sex.” She spoke, maybe to herself, after the comfortable silence permeated the tent. He laughed, this wasn’t his plan, he wasn’t supposed to share his greatest traumas with someone, he was not supposed to feel bad for her. They had enough to contend with if he was actually going to ask her to kill Cazzador, but if that was the route he was heading for, adding an arch mage to the list just made sense.

“I don’t need your pity.” He huffed haughtily, his arm over her stomach as she played with his hair.

She chuckled. “And I don’t need yours.” He let out another huff. This was not supposed to be how their night ended. She was supposed to be screaming his name against some gods forsaken tree in the middle of the woods. He would finish his role, letting her fall for him, though he hadn’t thought past the first night, he had never had to before. But here he was in some woman’s arms that on some level knew every harsh reality he had seen. He could tell her if she hadn’t lived it, truly known what he was talking about perhaps it would have been easier. It would just be some sob story he would get to milk every once and awhile. But this was real, she probably felt the same feral protectiveness over him that he was feeling for her right now. But he knew he had no excuses anymore, no whoa is me to fall back on, and that was scarier than anything. That she could go through the things he had been through and still want to help and love. Where all he wanted to do was burn the world to ash. A quick peck on his forehead brought him back to reality. A half hummed goodnight escaped her lips as she fell asleep, and he was left to ponder.

[ughgoaway]

it really is a mental health dip kind of a month i swear seasonal depression is mf real 😔💔 but while you take a backseat on writing etc (idk how you guys write so often like burn out would hit me after the second sentence 😭💀) here's some insane brainrot and perhaps inspo but mainly just blurb like comfort to think ab bc honestly why lie matthew may be a headache but he really is the best of distractions in such times <3 (here's to hoping some serotonin will roll its way over to both of us)

(dad matty universe ofc bc well-)

- matty singing his songs to baby annie and absolutely dying when she'd giggle to it

- babysitting annie mid studio sessions like can you just imagine the boys producing and recording and annie taking turns sleeping in each of their laps etc 😭😭

- matty calling adam at the randomest times to ask for parenting advice (crying)

- the very idea of matty holding a sleeping annie in his arms as they both doze off will actually kill me i swear

- any thought remotely related to dad matty doing dad things honestly

- like imagine him packing her school lunches etc and including little notes for her kms

- the boys taking annie on trips etc like imagine them all at the zoo gn

(honestly a pre-reader blurb list/prequel may be a need somewhere down the line-)

anyways yes I totally do not.... think about dad matty......like at all......

bff anon is going to run away and disappear now 😍 xx

(late to respond to this bc I am still violently ill lol)

YES BFF HI!!!! seasonal depression is EARLY this year!! honestly, I don't get it either. Some writers literally write every day... if I did that, I'd die. I don't even write that much, and I still burn out so quickly

okay I don't have the mental capacity rn to discuss each idea in depth but let me just say; YES YES YES YES YES I LOVE IT.

(not very) brief comments on each one below the cut;

- matty singing people to baby Annie and she is just laughing like crazy... yes.

- do not even put this into my head. the idea of baby Annie sitting in Ross' lap while he plays bass. Or Adam takes her from matty when he needs to record a little vocal take, and he and Annie wave from the other side. Matty promptly messes up that take because he's busy making heart eyes at his beautiful baby (and after much pressure, he reluctantly says he was making heart eyes at hann too...) Or she's sitting in George as he produces something, she giggles and presses a button. at first George is like, "No!" But then he plays it, and he's like, "...wait that kinda bangs, " and annie gets a producer credit!!!!

(side note imagine them including an accidental take at the end of a song of Annie babbling or laughing... people are like "what is that cute laughter at the end?" and matty is like "💞❤️💖my baby girl💖❤️💞")

- it's like 12am, and Adam is just getting into bed when he gets a facetime from matty who is PANICKING. Adam is immediately like "bro, what's up", all he can hear in the background is SCREAMING bc Annie is clearly unhappy. matty is freaking tf out because "I can't find her stuffed rabbit Adam. it's been 2 hours. she won't stop crying. I don't know what to do and -" and Adam cuts him off like "matty, calm down, it's okay. didn't you put it in that weird pocket of your bag in the studio today?" and matty looks like he could literally cry of joy and just is like "YES I LOVE YOU BRO. BYE. SLEEP WELL." and abruptly hangs up, leaving Adam laughing and carly asking."oh god, what did matty need"

- perhaps a long day in the studio and matty is like "I'll just rock Annie to sleep on the sofa in the other room, be back in 10" and he simply... does not return. George comes in prepared to have a go at matty for being a helicopter dad when he sees them both open mouth snoring on the sofa lol.

- the idea of messy hair 3am matty trying to test the temperature of the milk on his wrist but getting confused at what it's meant to feel like. simultaneously rocking a screaming Annie and just trying not to also scream.

- OHMYGODDDD. like she's a little older, and it starts with a little note explaining something in her lunch, and she comes home SO EXCITED because "it was a note from you, Daddy!!! it's like we're spies sending secret letters!!!" And obviously, matty is now in full spy mode. they create a secret code, and he decorates them to say "top secret" on the outside. the notes are always things like "love you peanut! have a good day!" But we can play pretend okay.

- maybe Annie has become obsessed with penguins recently (Ross is obviously encouraging this and loves her giggles whenever he shows her his tattoo) and matty wants to show her irl penguins. matty offhandedly mentions him and Annie are going to the zoo tomorrow for the first time and the other boys are like "HMM??? WITHOUT US???" especially Ross bc like... hello he got her into penguins... the audacity from matty to be silent??? so they all are like "we're coming." thus a group trip to the zoo happens, and hann brings his little one and its just a family affair. sooo many pictures, especially Annie seeing her very first penguin and a group shot that a very confused old woman took for them (seriously, why are there 4 grown tattooed men with two children crying at penguins???)

these thoughts became much less concise as time went on...

I might have to do some prequel/early dad matty blurbs... if yall are interested???

[no-te-lo-voy-a-dar]

I am here once again, bc I am having brainrots about the pack(TM) and I had to infect you with those thoughts as well. I am very sorry

So remember how the MCU's Doctor Strange got dropped into the a/b/o au/g&c verse? Cause now I'm thinking about the pack(TM) being dropped into the MCU- post Civil War or post AoU-

Just the thought of g&c Peter stiffening and snarling at MCU Tony who's just kinda lost bc the Peter in the MCU follows him like a little duckling- But this Peter is snarling and hissing, and there are these people are surrounding him, protecting him-And all these people are making weird, animalistic noises, chirping and cooing- making sounds that could not be made from human vocal cords-

All of them just don't smell right, or look right- The pack(TM)'s eyes glint golden sometimes, and sometimes they go to completely communicate in low growls and chirping- There's some hierarchy within the group, but none of the non-g&c characters can tell what it is-

The thought of Loki appearing before them, and the remainder/present Avengers getting out their weapons- and them knowing now that if Loki had really wanted to take over New York, he could have-

And Stephen Strange (pre-Multiverse), seeing the g&c version- with two formidable magic users-

And also, I want to see/write MCU Matt and Frank reacting to the g&c trio bc I think it'd be hilarious- Maybe after this meeting, MCU Matt checks up on his version of Spiderman and that cascades into Peter gaining a 'dad'-

I am rambling but I just wanted to bounce some ideas off of u, babe

yeeeeEEEEAAAH PACK THOUGHTS LET’S GOOOO please there’s no need to apologize

ohmygod the pack post Civil War in the MCU world would be such a fucking mess, although if they meet them post AoU i feel like things could have been better for the MCU group due scoldings of the Pack, so, for the sake of angst, let’s go with post Civil War (8

Tony would ABSOLUTELY think “oh they have a Peter too, this shit easy, watch me” and try to approach him all smiles and prancing around only to get a full on growl that sounds like a big dog about to bite his fingers off, but instead of launching at him, Peter curls around himself or steps closer to someone of The Pack, while the adult is most likely glaring at him. MCU Banner would definetly be fascinated by their bodies being capable of making such noises and would probably try to ask so many questions but R, Frank and Wanda do feel like it’s bordering on them being specimens or lab rats even if there’s no physical prodding so they answer very short and cut sentences until Banner gets the hint (NO WAIT, THIS BANNER IS ON FUCKING SPACE FIGHTING ON SKAAR LMAO, MAKE IT VISION THEN, AND RHODES THE ONE TO TELL HIM TO STOP jfc i forgot most of the lineups)

the idea that even non a/b/o world individuals can smell their scents is interesting, like its similar to how people get lingering smells after like, baking, or being near a bbq for half a day - the smell is faint if u don’t pay attention but it’s definetly there - the golden and flashing eyes is unsettling, to them all it screams wild magic rather than something else (perhaps Nat remembers MCU Loki’s blue eyes and how odd they looked) and the way they actually snarl and bare their sharper than theirs teeths? damn

Tony would probably make some comment about “oh, kinky” if/when he saw Matt’s bond marks and even tried to touch them and that results in a whole different mess of Matt being on top of Tony growling and no one from the Pack stopping him, ALL their eyes being golden and R and Frank are more like ready to ALSO jump Tony - it’s probably MCU’s Peter who stops the situation

ooooh, Pack Peter not knowing how to feel about MCU Peter,,,,

the Loki of The pack is very different and MCU people can tell it and yet they don’t trust them and are wary of them, and even if Loki is not affected Wanda and Stephen will cuddle their god and reassure him of how much they love her

MCU Stephen seeing a healtier version of his yet with more shaky hands and a softer look on his eyes despite the obvious maturity there - so many juxtapositions

okay but imagine the reason MCU Matt and Frank meet their Pack selves is because Pack Peter decided to follow MCU Peter and so Pack Matt and Frank are following him because “jfc this kID-” and end up finding their counterparts - who see them interact with Pack Peter and Matt wonders if his world’s Spiderman is the same as this Peter and so checks him out - tries to reach him...which is, harder, because this Peter is so blinded by his admiration of Tony...Homecoming would be different tho, now Peter knowing Daredevil has been trying to aid him and well...Tony took his suit, but there’s a whole mess to deal with, and Tony didn’t listen and maybe his other self was onto something....

have this wall of text back then úwú

[allylikethecat]

THE EPILOGUE OH MY GOD. frantically googling how to leave more than one kudos. frantically googling how to work at ao3 so i can make an option to leave more than one kudos. aaahh no it's just sososo sweet i cant take it ☹️💞 once again, apologies in advance for my Terrible lack of grammar, im just going insane and the only way to get my thoughts out is by going AXBQJBXJQBZJSHJZNANSJHS for 200 words. ok. my favourite paragraphs time.

He had started meeting with a therapist weekly and he wasn’t sure if it was helping, but even Charli had commented that he seemed more at peace with himself these days.

just this sentence aaaahhhhhhhhh, he is learning and being Better and aaaaahhhh i love i love i love

“I think you’re right,” George agreed. Matty nodded as much to himself as to George, and bit his lip, his nose, sunburnt as always, scrunched up in deep thought.

screaming crying throwing up omg pls, the fact george takes note of the way matty's nose is always burned oh i'm about to DIE ☹️💞

“Would you maybe,” Matty started before trailing off as if he was still contemplating his words, “want to grab dinner or something? Later? If we get rained out? There is a new Italian place that Waughty was telling me about, it’s small and a hole in the wall, but supposed to be good.”

i didn't know it was possible for a person to turn into an exclamation mark but here i am. !!!!!!!!!!!! <- me. matty's asking him oh i'm SOFT aaaaaaaahh i cannot!!!!!!!! genuine tears in my eyes i love this so much 🥲🥲

Matty smiled, the first genuine smile that George had seen directed at him in a long time. “Good,” said Matty before nodding to himself as much as to George. “It’s a date then.”

😭 I 😭 HAVE 😭 DIED 😭 this has killed me and i want the cause of death tattooed on my entite body aaaaaahhhhh !!!!!!!!!!!! it IS a date!!!!!!!!! cutest cutest cutest cutest cutest i'm losing my mind i LOVE THIS 😭😭😭

genuinely insane that it's over omg, but i enjoyed every single word and would buy this as an actual book, i need it bound with gold thread in latin like omgomgomg i just love it so much. and also know that atkh will never ever ever ever ever leave me. i will be the crazy cat aunt and tell all their grand nieces and nephews about The Story I Read One Time and they wont know what i'm on about but it's fine because all the kings horses brainrot lasts until death (im srs every time i see a horse or anything even remotely related im like :)))))))))))this is just like when all the kings horses chapter x:))))))))))))))))))) it's becoming an issue) OKAY. have the best day on the planet in the universe ever and enjoy ur life 💞🙇‍♀️

HI THERE I AM SO SORRY THAT I AM JUST NOW RESPONDING TO THIS LOVELY AMAZING FANTASTIC ASK. I have been a busy burnt out mess and I am so, so sorry. I also got like weirdly sad after posting the final chapter of ATKH? I was like I don't know how to write words anymore because they are all meaningless now that ATKH is finished...

BUT ANYWAY Oh my gosh I'm so happy to hear that you enjoyed the epilogue! It was an ending that I was really happy with, because they might not necessarily be back together, but they were working on themselves and there was a hopefulness there! Fictional!George needs a LOT of therapy and thankfully he is finally taking that step!

LOL Just because fictional!George is in therapy doesn't mean he's any less obsessed with Fictional!Matty / that he's not still always aware of him... and the fact that he never fucking remembers sunscreen...

I also wanted them to be more of equals now? Like if they were to try again, it's on equal footing instead of Fictional!George holding all of the power and thus Fictional!Matty is the one that is asking HIM out this time!!

But just AH thank you so much for always being so absolutely lovely and supportive of my writing and sending me the loveliest of asks and I am once again so very sorry for responding to this one so very late. I am so, so grateful to be part of this little community. I hope you continue to enjoy my future works, whatever and whenever they may be. I also hope that you are having the absolute BEST week!

❤️Ally

[beyondbinaries]

actually you all subject to it after I made the sentence starters based on her dialogue I have had nothing but brainrot. Obvious spoilers for ds game

Starting off Sherlotta has had the worse possible life. It never states exactly how long she was experimented on but we know that she became blind and unable to walk due to it. She relies on Sherlotta the cat to function normally.

She lost her whole village, her friends, her family. But unlike the Main Antagonist of the game she doesn't become obsessive and try to change the past nor does she look for away to bring them back to life. She has a rather hands off approach to the world. She was just burning her endless time.

Now this isn't to say she wasn't aware of the world. She knows about the history of the archeologist and his buried treasure and she recognizes someone she had seen 50 years ago when they were just a child. She just sees herself as someone from the past era.

I know it is a cliche for immortals that they become soft when they fall in love. And while for a good majority of media immortals that love is romantic, in Sherlotta's case it is motherly love. In every instance of her existence (WoFF & Dissidia) it is the love of a mother that changes her. Albeit in Echoes of Time it is the strongest.

She talks about the moment she first held the Hero, how she began to tremble and in the first time in a long while she felt a sense of longing. To her the Hero was her light in the darkness and they were a miracle.

"People have this habit of only believing in what they can see. They fear things they don't understand... yet when those same things help them, they praise them as miracles. The real miracle is that in this wide, wide world, millions of years old... you are standing here, at this moment. We were given life and we were given each other. If that isn't a miracle, I don't know what is."

Her paternal love is what makes her step up, she doesn't want the Main Antagonist's plain to come to fruition because this time, this present, is the one where You (the Hero) are happy and healthy. She knows her powers are needed even if she hates them.

That isn't to say Sherlotta is all motherly and tender. Far from it, she is a multifaceted person. She is playful, she is mean spirited at times, she gets embarrassed at the thought of Hero calling her mom. I can't express how good of a character she is. You just need to play or watch a playthrough of the game. Echoes of Time is a beautiful game about how immortals deal with the past. One in denial and the other in acceptance.

"The present is built on the past. What has happened cannot be undone or redone."

I honestly just think my love for her stems from the fact I became so used to characters lamenting the past and their immortality, that they become numb to death and life. That Sherlotta, someone who lost everything who should be numb and uncaring to the world around her, cares so much. Life is precious and life is about wishing the best for those we love. If she has to die for the present to stay as it is she would do so in a heartbeat. Seeing a character so at peace with her decision because she knows it is for the best absolutely breaks me (in a good way).

For anyone who read this far, hi hello, this isn't all I can say about her. And while she ain't my most used muse, she was my first and I adore her. I hope my ramble shows that. Anyways consume Echoes of Time media or come into my dms to plot with her tysm

out of all the immortal / long lived characters I have seen in fiction Sherlotta is the best written imo. there is so much about her character and her feelings that are just so well done and its a ds game... someone should take one for the team and let me blab ab her in their dms

[ootahime]

analyzing every gojohime moment in the manga 😈

this series will probably have more than one part because tumblr only lets me upload ten images per post </3

warning: there are disgustingly long paragraphs in here and delusions

chapter 32

utahime’s first introduction!  akutami lets us know right off the bat that she thinks gojo is an idiot (so true).

chapter 32

i love the contrast between miwa and utahime’s reaction to gojo’s appearance.  

chapter 33

NAH BC TELL ME WHY HE WENT OUT OF HIS WAY TO NOT GET HER ONE LMAOOOO!!  when he traveled overseas to meet with yuta, he picked up the tribal protection charms and thought to himself, “let’s get enough for the kyoto students as a gift since i am such a great and caring teacher, after all.  mmm, i should skip utahime to make her mad~”  this guy puts way too much effort into getting on her nerves.  his mind = utahime brainrot

chapter 33

she’s laughing at him here because he’s getting disciplined for being a lil shit.  i wonder...what would he say if he saw her laughing at him like that?  

chapter 33

this interaction between them is a little strange don’t you think?   i feel like over the years he’s learned how to pick up her mood based on the way she’s acting towards him.  you’re probably thinking, “well any person can figure out how a person’s feeling based on the way they’re talking or acting.”  yes, that’s absolutely true, but it’s kind of different with this.  she’s acting normal.  utahime has a rather indifferent expression on her face and what she says is spoken in a calm tone, but gojo still asks her if she’s mad at him.  it’s likely that he knows her well enough to be able to notice these subtle things.  even if she wasn’t actually mad at him, he was being considerate for a split second, then he went and said, “of course.  i didn’t do anything wrong and all.”  what a guy LOLOL.  to me, this implies that maybe he made her genuinely angry in the past to the point where he realized that he went too far, and thus decided to be more careful of her feelings.  she has definitely gotten annoyed at him so many times after that so whenever she seems angry, he probably asks himself if he took it too far.  i’m curious to see if he can pick up if she’s upset with something that’s not involving him.  would he console her?  how does gojo satoru console someone?  

despite him always annoying her, she’s still courteous and brings him a cup of tea during their talk.  she didn’t have to go out of her way to get tea for him but she did.  that’s the kind of person utahime is.  a kind and caring woman who would never put her students in danger.  in the anime they were sitting far away and not facing each other like they’re doing in the manga.  she also has her own tea cup.  i think that little panel of her placing the cup down on the table and him picking it up to take a sip is a nice little detail.  it just proves that her hating him most of the time isn’t actually pure hatred but annoyance because of his shenanigans and teasing.

chapter 33

i touched upon this a little bit in my previous post, but i wish to go more in depth about this panel.  first of all, he ends the sentence with her name twice.  two times too many, mr. gojo.  i like how they can be serious with each other too LOL.  i wish we got to see them talk about the traitors because they did figure it out together after all.  does it always end in bickering?  can they interact with each other like adults all the way through?  somehow, i feel like that’s not possible when it comes to these two.  furthermore, notice how gojo confides in utahime about his suspicions.  from what we know, she is the first person he brought it up to.  i mean, i guess he has to start investigating the schools and would need extra assistance to save time, but he could have done it himself if he really wanted to.  by deciding to ask for her help we know that he thinks she’s trustworthy, smart, and strong enough to face whatever considerable risks this task may entail.  

i didn’t point this out in my other posts but see how he makes a hand sign in the last panel when she throws the cup at him?  gojo is manually activating his infinity.  why though?  about a year after the whole star plasma vessel incident happened, gojo develops the ability to keep his infinity up at all times by using the reversed curse technique to consistently heal himself to prevent exhaustion.  this means that it really makes no difference whether he leaves it on or off.  there are a few times where we can witness someone actually touching gojo.  for example, yuuji giving him a hug.  did he turn his infinity off, or was it able to deduce that yuuji was not a threat?  the erasers and pencils shoko and geto threw at him during his demonstration of his new ability aren’t dangerous normally, but is it the speed that makes them dangerous?  even if it did hit him, it wouldn’t hurt.  how does the infinity know when to allow an incoming object to touch gojo?  i believe it is up to gojo himself to let things touch him; his infinity restricts anything and anyone.  some people say it could just be the fact that water is not dangerous to him, so therefore, he has to manually put his infinity up.  i thought this was a reasonable explanation as to why he put up the hand sign when the tea was thrown at him, but then i realized that it couldn’t be.  remember the second opening?  it’s raining and everyone is carrying an umbrella, then it pans to gojo with a bouquet in his hand and rain drops slipping off his infinity.  if he DID manually put his infinity up to prevent getting soaked then that implies that he chose to turn his infinity off.  you can argue and say that jujutsu high is a safe place with students so there’s no need to have his infinity there, but do you remember when he stepped on the ants in front of gakuganji and yaga?  the ants were perfectly fine after which insinuates that his infinity prevented his shoes from crushing the ants.  he most likely had his infinity on during the baseball game even though he was in a safe environment.  how does this long tangent relate back to utahime?  well, it simply indicates that gojo trusts utahime so much to the point where he can be vulnerable around her.  turning off his infinity symbolizes completely letting down his guard  in a way.  

how about what happens next?  utahime throws the tea at him, he turns on his infinity to deflect it, and he responds with, “scary!  hysteric women aren’t popular, you know!”  why would he even say that LMAO??  utahime doesn’t even try to deny what he said either.  she just hits him with the good old, “i am your senpai!”  could it be that he’s trying to poke fun of her relationship status?  maybe, maybe not.  doesn’t he like people a lil crazy?  he did say that all jujutsu sorcerers have to be a little crazy because they’re willing to put themselves in danger constantly.  

chapter 0 p.1

i wonder who he’s thinking of when he said that.  could it be utahime?  it seems like he’s reminiscing or thinking about someone.  he wears an amused expression on his face as he laughs - almost like he’s seen his fair share of how scary women can get :>>

chapter 34

the pattern behind gojo and utahime is called yagasuri “fletching,” a traditional japanese design.  this design is inspired by arrow fletching.  it's a lucky charm for weddings and other celebrations since it's based on the Japanese belief that an arrow shot once never comes back.  brides were given kimonos with this pattern for good luck during the edo era (1603–1868) to ensure they would not have to return to their original family home.  this pattern can have numerous meanings such as steadfastness or determination to achieve a goal, or a wish for the happiness of the bride.  there is a belief that a bow and arrow represent the fight against evil.  honestly, this meaning fits the narrative of the story.  utahime and gojo are unearthing the traitors that are feeding intel to the curse users and cursed spirits.  they are in the middle while the kyoto students surround them, which could mean that it’s their job as adults to protect these children from the grasps of evil slowly making itself more prominent.  do you also notice that the arrows are pointed toward utahime from gojo?  from all the images i’ve seen, the arrows are usually pointed downward.  what could this mean?  is gojo trying to protect her (in the future (?)) or does he have a big fat crush smh...

i think it’s a good time to mention utahime’s clothing.  she’s wearing miko attire.  miko are shrine maidens who were once thought to be shamans (you connecting the dots?).  in their service to shrines, miko used to perform spirit possession and takusen (in which the possessed person acts as a "medium" (yorimashi) to communicate the divine will or message of that kami (god) or spirit; also included in the category of takusen is "dream revelation" (mukoku), in which a kami appears in a dream to communicate its will).  this was back in the old days, of course.  to become a miko back then (shaman), one needed to have potential.  neurosis, hallucinations, odd behavior, and hysteria (HYSTERIA HELLO???) are some of the signs that a person is being called to shamanism.  when a miko is communicating with a kami (god) or spirit by acting as a medium, she is in a trance-like state, and so she must learn techniques to control herself when this happens.  chanting and dancing were used to accomplish this, so the girl was taught melodies and intonations that were used in songs, prayers, and magical formulas.  all of this could give us insight about utahime’s technique and explains why she’s good at singing :)  maybe she can’t control herself when she uses her technique which is why she isn’t shown using it because it should be used for dire situations.  i imagine being possessed by a spirit or god must consume a lot of cursed energy.  it makes sense that utahime and gakuganji wear traditional clothing.  they’re the staff of jujutsu high’s kyoto branch.  in chapter 0, kyoto is known as the sacred land of jujutsu.  it’s more traditional compared to tokyo.  if you want to learn more about miko, you should check out the wikipedia page!  

chapter 34

i swear he tries to annoy her every chance he gets.  i bet he sets a goal for himself to see how many times utahime lectures him about respecting his seniors every time he’s within the same vicinity as her.  at least he called her utahime-sensei!!!

chapter 40

this isn’t even a gojohime moment tbh...i just wanted to share a pic of them sitting next to each other HEHE.  why are they sitting next to each other anyway?  it’s not like they have assigned seating.

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that was so long and i apologize for the gargantuan paragraphs you guys had to read through.  i’m writing this at 4 in the morning and i’m feeling borderline delirious so i apologize if there are any errors.  i’ll edit this when i have time <3

the next part should come shortly.

[fairytales-and-folklore]

Fanfic Ask Game

Thanks for the tag @tails89 <3 tagging @princecharmingwinks @nutellarghh @greyhavenisback

What is your total posted word count on AO3? (Go to your Works, then click Statistics.) 

323589

How often do you write? 

Lately it’s been nearly every day, but there have been months-long stretches where I won’t write anything, either because life is being a pain in the ass or because I was too focused on a different kind of creative project like sewing or knitting. Honestly, the huntlow brainrot is a big contributing factor to this summer writing burst — I’ve outlined 20+ stories since May, and have posted 7 of them so far. It feels really good.

Do you have a routine for writing?

Mostly I just need a quiet, comfy, clean setting to write in. Chores done, no big to-do items to distract me or make me feel anxious. No loud noises or flashing lights. I usually prop up my laptop on some pillows on my bed, put on my headphones, and play some soft lyric-less music. Some of my favorite tracks to write to are from tabletop audio.

What’s your favorite tropes/pairing?

I absolutely live for mutual pining and oblivious idiots in love. The more blushing, slow burn sexual and romantic tension, oh and oh no he’s hot moments, and adorable confessions, the better. Also, happy endings. I need my ship to get together and be happy in fluffy domestic bliss by the end.

Pairings: 

My current fixation is Hunter/Willow from The Owl House. My longest-standing pairing I’ve been writing fic on and off for about a decade now is Sterek from Teen Wolf. My first big pairing I ever wrote for that will always hold a special place in my heart is Eleven/Amy from Doctor Who.

Do you have a favorite fic of yours?

Oh that’s difficult. See, I won’t write a fic if I don’t 100% adore the concept, but that being said, I definitely have ones I favor more than others. So I’ll do one two for each of the pairings I just listed.

My actual favorite of all my huntlow fics hasn’t been posted yet (it’s a multi-chapter college AU and it’s still in the works) but of the ones I’ve posted so far, I think A Guard By Any Other Name and Task Failed Successfully are my favorites.

My favorite Sterek fic is between Error 404: Brain Cell Not Found and Hearts Like Wildflowers (though this could change, because I’ve still got about 30 WIPs for them sitting in my queue waiting to be written and posted)

And then for Eleven/Amy, I think I’d have to say that my favorite was the most recent one, posted over three years ago: You Keep My Secrets Hope To Die (Promises Swear Them To The Sky) which had literally been sitting in my drafts since season 5 or 6 of Doctor Who. (So, you see, I do eventually get around to finishing all my WIPs, sometimes it just takes me a while lol)

Your fic with the most kudos?

Error 404: Brain Cell Not Found with 1283 kudos

Anything you don’t like about your writing?

Sometimes I get too in my head about making it sound perfect and spend far more time editing and re-editing the same few lines instead of actually making progress writing the damn thing. I also tend to overthink and feel the need to over-explain certain concepts, worried that if I leave something too vague or open-ended, it’ll get misinterpreted. Also, I have a tendency to get a little too flowery and pretentiously descriptive sometimes, I have a habit of writing stream of consciousness run-on sentences that look like they’re just one big paragraph, and I probably definitely over-use em-dashes lol

Now something you do like?

I’ve been told that I’m really good at capturing a character’s voice, which is a really lovely thing to hear consistently across different fandoms and ships because I pride myself on really getting to know the characters I’m writing for, to the point where I’d feel confident answering questions like “what is their favorite xyz, what would they do in this situation?” I’m also always so incredibly pleased every time I get a comment from someone telling me that my fic was so cute and/or funny that it made them laugh out loud in public or made them flail and screech. I love inciting that level of joy in people ☺️♥️