#like anything they touch will literally start decaying

[bluebblurry]

Can we stop villainizing piglins please? They’re adorable, please don’t do this to them

[flying-potato2]

@thekinderwizard me an you infodumping to each other

the rant in the tags ended cus i reached 30 tags lol

pictured: nerd to nerd friendship

[lefteagleblizzard]

𝔄 𝔱𝔬𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢

Mike munroe x male reader

Summary: Trapped in the freezing sanatorium, Mike notices your body trembling from the cold and takes matters into his own hands-literally. His touch starts out innocent, a way to warm you up, but soon it turns into something far more heated.

Tags: Male reader. He/him pronouns are used towards the reader. Wolfie being a good boy. Mike and Jess are not together in this. Friends to lovers. Smut. Gay smut. Top Mike munroe. Bottom male reader. Anal sex.

Note: I played the original game years ago, and now that I'm playing the remake, my crush on Mike has come back. He's such a good character with amazing development. I never expected to like him this much. I'm near chapter 7 of the remake, and I'm honestly loving it.

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

Words counts: 3000

𝔅𝔯𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔶 𝔰𝔲𝔭𝔭𝔬𝔯𝔱

𝔉𝔦𝔯𝔰𝔱 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢'𝔰 𝔞 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔪

𝔗𝔴𝔬 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔬𝔤𝔢𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯

ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲

𝔍𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔶 𝔞𝔱 𝔅𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨𝔴𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔐𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔣𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔥 Part 2 of it

The cold of the sanatorium was oppressive. It seemed to leech the warmth from the very walls, seeping into your skin and bones, making every breath feel like you were inhaling shards of ice. As you and Mike rummaged through the mess of papers and debris in the dim, decaying room, the chill became impossible to ignore.

You had been at this for what felt like hours. Searching for anything, any clue, any scrap of information that could help you make sense of the nightmare you and your friends had stumbled into.

You wanted to focus. You needed to. But the cold was starting to weaken you. Your muscles ached from the effort of trying to stay warm, and despite your best attempts to keep it together, your hands were trembling as you shuffled through the scattered papers. The torn, thin jacket you'd found earlier did little to protect you, barely covering your torso, let alone insulating you from the freezing air.

Snowflakes continued to drift in from the broken windows, scattering across the dusty floor.

The place felt like a tomb. The smell of decay hung in the air, making every breath feel heavy, cold, and full of death.

Mike tried to stay focused, but even as his eyes scanned the scattered papers on the floor, his attention was pulled to you. You were over by the corner of the room, crouched low beside an old table, sifting through stacks of yellowed documents, your movements deliberate but slow. The jacket clung to you awkwardly, barely covering your arms and torso.

Even from across the room, he could hear your teeth chattering slightly, despite how hard you were trying to suppress it.

You always did that, pushing yourself even when it was clear you were struggling. Mike admired that about you, but it was also something that worried him. He knew you were trying to stay strong for him and the rest of the group, but the last thing Mike wanted was for you to get hurt or worse.

His thoughts raced, that protective instinct flaring up again. You didn't deserve this. You deserved to be somewhere warm, safe... with him.

He had been feeling that way for months now, ever since that night after he broke up with Emily. That night had changed everything for him. You were the one who stayed with him, sitting by his side, listening to him vent as he struggled to process the end of his long-term relationship.

You didn't just offer hollow platitudes; you gave him the kind of comfort and understanding he never knew he needed. He realized then, somewhere between the midnight conversation and the quiet moments of silence, that you were different. You weren't just his friend; you were the one person who made him feel like himself again.

After that night, he found himself constantly thinking about you. How easy it was to talk to you, how you made him laugh even when he felt like shit.

He'd find excuses to see you, call you up for help with college work, or invite you out for something casual. He always assumed you'd catch on quickly to his flirting, but you never did. Either he was terrible at flirting with a guy like you, or you were just completely oblivious.

Without a word, he began to unbutton his own jacket, which was far thicker and more insulated than the pathetic excuse you were wearing.

He held it out toward you.

"Here," he said simply. "Take it"

You shook your head immediately. "No. I'll be fine. You need it more than I do."

Mike narrowed his eyes, clearly not buying it. "You're freezing, man. You look like you're about to turn into an ice cube."

You tried to laugh it off, though it came out weak and unconvincing. "It's really not that bad. I can handle the cold. And it'd be selfish of me to take your jacket. There’s no way you're any warmer than I am."

With the simple tank top he was wearing underneath, now all dirty with mud and snow, it became even harder for you to stop staring at him. His muscular and strong arms drew your attention.

Mike sighed, holding the jacket out stubbornly towards you. "You're not fine. You're shaking like a leaf." He reached out, gently brushing his fingers over your arm, feeling the coldness of your skin even through the thin fabric of your jacket. "Just take it."

But you shook your head again, more firmly this time. "It wouldn't be fair," you murmured, looking down at the papers you were holding. "You need it just as much as I do. I can handle the cold. We've been through worse than this, right?"

Why couldn't you just let him take care of you for once?

"Come on," he tried again, his voice soft but insistent. "After everything we've been through tonight, hypothermia is the least of my worries. I'm not letting you freeze out here, not when I can do something about it."

You glanced up at him, your eyes softening for a moment, and for a second, Mike thought you might actually take the jacket. But then you shook your head again.

"I'll be fine, Mike."

Mike sighed heavily, his breath visible in the cold air as he ran a hand through his hair. "Damn it, you're stubborn.”

You gave him a small smile, trying to divert the conversation as you continued sorting through the papers. "I've been called worse."

Finally, with a deep sigh, Mike relented, shoving his jacket back on with a grumble.

Minutes passed in silence, the only sounds being the creak of old floorboards beneath your feet and the occasional rustle of paper. Wolfie, the wolf Mike had somehow managed to befriend, lay beside you, his fur brushing against your leg as he occasionally shifted.

Every so often, you'd reach down to scratch behind Wolfie's ears. His fur was soft under your fingertips.

You gripped the edges of the papers in your hand, hoping that somehow, just focusing on the task in front of you would make it better.

It didn't.

It was then that you noticed Mike shifting beside you and before you could react, his body was pressing up against your back, his arms wrapping around your waist in a firm but gentle hold. His warmth hit you immediately, and you couldn't stop the small gasp that escaped your lips at the sudden contrast.

"Mike?" you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper as you stiffened in surprise at the closeness.

"Relax," he murmured, his breath warm against the side of your neck. "If you won't take my jacket, I'll just have to warm you up myself." he whispered, his voice rough and low.

Your heart started to race, not just from the unexpected contact, but from the undeniable heat that surged through your body as Mike's lips brushed against the side of your neck. The sensation was electrifying, sending a shiver down your spine that had nothing to do with the cold this time.

His lips moved slowly, deliberately, trailing soft kisses down the length of your neck, each one sending a wave of heat through your body. Your body was leaning into his touch, craving more of the warmth and comfort he was offering.

This wasn't the Mike you were used to. This was something far more intimate, more personal.

"Mike... I don't..." you began, but your words trailed off as his lips found a particularly sensitive spot just below your ear, making your breath hitch in your throat.

"You don't what?" he asked softly, his hand sliding up from your waist to rest on your chest, pulling you even closer against him. "You don't want this?"

Of course you wanted it. More than anything, really. You'd been harboring feelings for Mike for so long, feelings you'd kept hidden, thinking there was no way he'd ever see you as anything more than a friend, a study partner, a background presence in his life.

But now, with his body pressed against yours and his lips trailing fire down your neck, it was clear that Mike had been seeing you in a very different light for a while.

"I didn't think..." you started, your voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't think you felt like this about me."

He hadn't planned on this happening, not exactly. But as he held you in his arms, feeling the heat of your body against his, he couldn't deny how good it felt, how right it felt to be this close to you. For years, he had pushed his feelings for you to the back of his mind, thinking it wasn't something you'd ever want. You were smart, focused, always so kind.

He pressed closer, his lips trailing lower along your collarbone, his fingers gently digging into your waist. The torn jacket you were wearing slid down slightly, giving him better access to your skin, and he took full advantage of it, kissing his way down your neck with slow, deliberate movements.

Mike's lips paused against your skin, and he pulled back, his expression soft but intense. "You really didn't notice, did you?" He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I've been trying to get you to see it for months. I thought you'd pick up on it, but... guess I'm not as smooth as I thought."

You blinked at him, your mind reeling. "You've... been trying to tell me?"

"Yeah," he admitted, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek. "I've been dropping hints since we stayed up all night after Emily and I broke up. You were there for me, man. And ever since then I just... I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"I didn't think you'd ever feel like that about me," you confessed, your voice shaky with disbelief.

Mike smiled softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he pulled you a little closer. "I noticed the way you looked at me," he said quietly, his breath warm against your skin. "All those times you'd stare at me, thinking I didn't see. You were so fucking adorable, but it drove me crazy."

You blinked up at him, clearly shocked by the confession. Mike chuckled softly, his lips brushing over your jawline, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your waist. "You're not that good at hiding it, you know."

Before you could respond, Mike kissed you. His lips hungry, filled with all the emotions he hadn't been able to express before. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer.

You responded almost immediately, your lips parting under his, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him closer.

Mike deepened the kiss, his hands slipping beneath your jacket, his fingers tracing the outline of your hips, your waist, your chest. His tongue dipped past your lips.

After a long moment, Mike pulled back just enough to whisper, his voice low and rough, "You're okay with this, right?"

You didn't even hesitate this time. You nodded, breathless.

Mike's grin widened, and without another word, he kissed you again, even more deeply this time. His hands moved up your sides, tugging at the edges of your jacket as he pressed you against the wall.

You pulled him closer, your hands tangling in his hair as the heat between you both grew.

Mike's lips left yours, trailing down your jaw and back to your neck, his hands roaming your body as if he couldn't get enough of you. Your breath coming in shallow gasps as he kissed his way down to your collarbone, his grip on your waist tightening.

You wanted more, needed more, and judging by the way Mike was holding you with his erection pressing insistently against you, he felt the same.

He pulled back slightly, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips as he glanced over at Wolfie, who had been lying quietly in the corner of the room.

He bent down, ruffling the fur of the wolf who had been sitting quietly in the corner of the room. "Go on, buddy," Mike whispered. "Follow me for a second."

The wolf trotted after Mike as he stepped out of the room, leaving you alone for a few moments, heart still racing. You could hear him talking softly to Wolfie just outside the door, something about how you were "the guy" he'd told the wolf about before.

When Mike came back into the room, locking the door behind him, the intensity in his eyes made your pulse quicken even more.

Without wasting another second, Mike crossed the room in a few quick strides and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you into a deep, hungry kiss. His lips were insistent, full of desire, and you couldn't help but melt into him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you kissed him back with just as much need.

Mike's hands roamed over your body, gripping your hips, pulling you closer. His tongue teased at your lips before slipping into your mouth, deepening the kiss.

He broke the kiss just long enough to mutter, "God, I've wanted you for so long."

Then, his lips were on yours again. His hands gripping you even tighter, pressing you against the nearest wall as his mouth trailed down your neck, nipping and biting at the sensitive skin there.

His hands were on you, pulling at your clothes, lowering them to expose just what was needed with an almost frantic urgency, before he gripped your ass, his fingers digging into the soft skin with a possessive intensity as he lifted you slightly, pressing his body against your.

"Relax," Mike whispered, his voice low and commanding as his fingers trailed down, teasingly brushing against your entrance. "Let me take care of you."

He teased you for a moment, his fingers gently exploring before he slowly pushed one inside, his eyes never leaving yours.

"You're so fucking tight," he groaned, his voice low and gravelly.

He moved his finger slowly at first, watching your face for every reaction, but as you relaxed into his touch, he added another finger, stretching you carefully.

Mike's other hand reached up to cup your face, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek as he leaned in to kiss you again, this time slower, more tender.

By the time Mike pulled his fingers out of you, you were trembling with anticipation, your body aching for him.

You heard the rustle of fabric as he undid his pants, and then you felt the tip of his hard cock rubbing against your thigh.

"Ready for me?" he asked, his voice low and rough.

You could barely nod, your entire body trembling with need. Mike lined himself up, his hands gripping your hips firmly, and then, with one slow, steady thrust, he pushed inside.

The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain as he stretched you, filled you completely. He moved slowly at first, watching your face for any sign of discomfort, but all you could do was moan softly, your hands clutching at his shoulders.

"You're perfect," Mike groaned as he began to move, his hips moving with slow, deliberate motions. "You feel so fucking good."

Mike's hands were everywhere, gripping your hips, sliding up your chest, cupping your face as he kissed you hungrily. His cock filled you completely, each slow thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body.

His hands moved lower, his fingers finding their way between your legs as he stroked you in time with his thrusts.

The more his pace picked up, the more his movements became rougher, more desperate. He kissed you again, biting at your lips, your neck, his hands gripping your ass tightly as he pulled you closer with each thrust.

"Fuck," Mike groaned, his voice low and husky. His soft grunts filling the cold room as he moved inside you.

The pleasure built to an unbearable peak as his thrusts became faster, harder. You could feel the heat spreading through your body, your muscles tensing as you teetered on the edge.

And then, with one final, deep thrust, Mike groaned loudly, his hands gripping you tightly as he came, his cock pulsing inside you. The sensation sent you over the edge as well, and you cried out as your own orgasm ripped through you, your voice muffled against his neck.

After a few moments of catching your breath and letting the weight of everything settle in, Mike pressed another soft kiss to your forehead before pulling away slightly, his hands lingering on your hips. You could see the satisfied smile tugging at his lips, that playful, cocky expression you had grown so used to over the years. He gave you a wink before straightening up, pulling his pants back up and adjusting himself as if nothing had happened.

You followed suit, your body still buzzing with the aftermath. There was something so surreal about it all. Being here, with Mike Munroe, of all people. You had known him for years, but you had never imagined things would end up like this.

Once you were both dressed and more or less presentable, Mike walked over to the door, unlocking it with a soft click.

"Ready to face Wolfie again? He might be a little upset that we kicked him out." He glanced back at you, a mischievous smile playing on his lips, before swinging the door open.

Outside, Wolfie was sprawled out across the floor, his furry body taking up most of the tight hallway. The wolf's ears twitched at the sound of the door opening, and he turned his head to glance at the two of you. His golden eyes scanned you two and then, with what could only be described as a huff, he plopped his head back down onto the floor, letting out a long sigh as if he had been deeply offended by the delay.

"Is he pouting?" you asked, incredulous.

Mike smirked, clearly amused by the wolf's behavior. "What? You jealous, buddy?" he teased as he crouched down beside Wolfie. The wolf, still looking somewhat begrudging, turned his head away, as if refusing to acknowledge Mike.

Mike reached out, scratching Wolfie behind the ears, his voice dropping into a low, playful tone. "Come on, don't be mad. I was just doing my part to keep him warm. You know how cold it is here."

You watched as Wolfie's resolve began to crumble under Mike's touch, his tail thumping softly against the floor as Mike scratched behind his ears. Mike chuckled, his cocky grin growing wider. "See? I warmed him up real good. All thanks to me."

Wolfie responded with a soft growl. He finally turned his head back toward Mike and he ruffled his fur, looking pleased with himself.

"Yeah, yeah," you said, rolling your eyes but unable to stop the smile from spreading across your face.

Mike stood up, shooting you a wink as he slung his arm around your shoulder. "Damn right, I did." He leaned in to press a soft, quick kiss to your lips.

Together, you and Mike walked down the hallway, Wolfie trotting along beside you. And as Mike gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze, you couldn't help but feel grateful that, through all the chaos and terror of the night, you had found someone worth fighting for.

If you liked this story please leave a comment, I love reading them <3.

[yinemw]

𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐲𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲

context: telling touya just how pretty he is

warnings: Touya’s burnt skin 🤷🏽‍♀️, picking at his staples

character: Touya Todoroki from MHA

m.list

“Pretty” Touya hears the mumble out of the blue, looking up from his phone to see what you were calling pretty, but your eyes were on him. Thinking he heard wrong, he went back to his phone, as if nothing happened.

“So pretty” you say once again, inching closer to him on the sofa. Palms resting on his thigh to try and get his attention.

“What?”

You only smile at his confused stare, taking the phone out of his hands and laying it on the coffee table. “You. You’re so unbelievably gorgeous Touya”

He wasn’t good with compliments, especially not with ones that made no sense to him and he didn’t believe. Him? Pretty? In his head those two didn’t go together, and even if the one person he trusted most in the world uttered the words, he still wouldn’t believe it. Perhaps it was pity? No, he knew you like the back of his scarred hand, and you never pitied him. You understood him.

“Don’t start again” he leaned over to get his phone, but you had plans of your own. Swinging one leg over his thighs, you seat yourself in his lap and prevent him from going anywhere or reaching for his phone to distract himself. “I’m serious, I don’t want to hear it” he repeated himself, but nothing seemed to stop your train of thought.

“I’m serious too, I mean it. I think you’re beautiful. Your scars, the staples holding your skin together. They hold a story, how you’ve gotten this far and what you’ve been though. They make you, you. I love the version of you that is sitting in front of me right now, and you wouldn’t be that version if it wasn’t for your past and these scars”

“Wow thank you sweetheart, that wasn’t cheesy at all” He rolled his eyes, voice sarcastic and not believing a word. “Say whatever you want, doesn’t change the fact I look like this”

“Oh come on, you know I like the color purple” you tease. Wrapping your fingers around his chin and rolling your thumb over his lower lip. “Especially rusty purple like your skin”

“Shut up, my skin is literally decaying and rotting away, and you find that beautiful?” He scoffs, flicking one of the staples on his arm. “Literal metal is holding my skin together, skin that isn’t alive anymore. I can barely feel you touching me, it’s nothing beautiful. It’s disgusting and ugly”

“Touya—”

“When we kiss, do you know why I only let you kiss my upper lip?” He interrupted you, asking a question of his own before you could back up your argument.

Hesitantly, you answer as your eyes travel down do his lips. “You don’t want me to feel the skin on your lower lip…” the words come past your own lips as low as a whisper. Your thumb still rubbing gently at his bottom lip, the texture rough to the touch, just like the rest of his scarred skin. “Touya, I still feel it whenever we kiss…or whenever you kiss my skin, I feel it. You think I mind?”

Touya stayed quiet, picking at the staples on his arm. He did this whenever he was nervous or uncomfortable…or in your case, flustered.

Beautiful. Gorgeous. Tsk. What a load of bull—

“Stop that! Last time you pulled out one of your staples I needed to use one of my earrings to fix it! And now it’s missing and you still haven’t bought me a new pair!” Your whining pulls him out of his thoughts, a snicker leaving his lips as he stopped pulling at the silver staple on his arm.

Your rambling went on about the missing earring, but he couldn’t care less. Nodding his head as he pretended to be interested, Touya couldn’t stop admiring your face, your hair, your body, the way you talked so passionately about something so small, your voice, the soft glimmer in your eyes whenever you looked at him. He would never consider himself anything close to beautiful, but if you believed it…who was he to disagree?

[kaylapocalypse]

NOVA

I met a boy in a field.

His clothes were strange— but not too strange—and some of his words were unfamiliar—but not too unfamiliar.

He had been standing in the grass and looking up at the stars. He clutched something shining and bright in his hand.

When he heard me coming over, he turned and grinned.

“Wanna see something great?” He said “Come back here in fifty years and stand right in this spot. A sun will die and this is the best seat in the house.”

His teeth were made of metal and his eyes were hard like flint.

“This is the best century, really. We read about them all, you know. You’ve still got all the good stuff…”

He breathed in the air and let it out with a satisfied whoosh. As if he hadn’t had the opportunity to do such a thing in a long while.

“Why do you look so glum? Come on, sit with me in the sun.”

He crossed his legs and settled down in a patch of heather.

“The sun isn’t out. It’s night.” I said. “And who are you? This is private property.”

The boy laughed.

“The sun is always out. The sun bathes the earth in rays at all hours. God, you’re so young! The schools were so bad back in the day, wow.”

“I’m literally going to call the police. You seem like a nice kid, but you’ve got to go.”

He snorted and rolled a flower between his fingers.

“Whatever lady. You’ll miss me. And it’s not like I’m going anywhere permanent style. Because this is—you know what. I’m not going to tell you what’s going to happen. You’ll deserve it. Ugh.”

He shook the blindingly bright thing he had in his hand and vanished.

—

The next time I saw him I was 32.

It had been ten years, but there he stood. In the middle of the field. Wearing the same threadbare sweater and trousers I’d met him in.

“Gosh it took you a long time.” He said.

“Who are you? What the fuck. Are you wearing metal dentures?”

The boy looked exceptionally offended.

“Metal dentures? Oh that’s rich. Coming from someone with unprotected decaying bone in their mouth. Thank god I haven’t gotten hurt out here. What would you have tried to do? Cure a broken arm with bloodletting or burned a witch? I should have brought my own first aid kit just in case I have to deal with these primitive medical practices.”

That was a tirade I didn’t expect…

“What time are you from?” I asked.

He rolled his eyes.

“I’m not even going to bother with that.” He said. “Come closer, let me see you. You aged finkin’ well.”

I edged closer to him, but not close enough to let him touch me.

“it’s been like an entire decade.” I said suspiciously.

“I see they at least taught you basic math.” He snorted.

The closer I got the more differences I noticed about him. He looked like he was about the same age, but his clothes were a little thinner, a little more ragged. He had circles beneath his eyes and his skin had a grayish tinge.

“Are you okay?”

He looked at me like I was insane.

“Of course I’m not okay. Clearly, we’re from different times. Clearly I’m from the future. If you were from the future, would you go back to the dark ages to wallow with your ancestors in the mud for fun? I can’t talk to you about this. It’s not like you can do anything about it. Just sit down and look at the goddamn sky with me. This is supposed to be romantic.”

I plopped down beside him and looked up at the stars. I knew I had groceries getting warm in the car, but I figured I could afford to spend at least five minutes with an ageless time wanderer —even if he was rude as hell.

“Okay, you see that dark area over there?” He pointed at the sky. I nodded.

“That’s the way out of this mess.”

“What mess?”

“Everything. All of the problems you have here. I think. I’m really bad at explaining this sort of stuff. I’m not like, the best at politics science or physics. That was more my dad’s thing. I was really only ever into sports.”

“What sport did you play?”

“Upjacket. It’s like a mixture of your baseball and your hockey. But the stakes are higher. You play in antigrav and the first person to score a point wins. It’s like… you start off in teams, but individuals win games, and the more individuals win on each team, the more money the team gets. It was fun. Back when they let us play sports.”

He grinned and looked up at the sky.

“I was gonna go pro. It’s all about agility.”

Suddenly the bright thing in his pocket started rattling wildly.

“Oh shit oh shit. Sorry. I’ve got to go. See you in te—”

He disappeared.

—

I took a train from New York all the way back to Michigan, then a bus out into the country.

The field was empty when I arrived. I sat down in the patch of heather and looked up into the sky.

My heels dug into the soft earth. I was 42.

After about 15 minutes he blinked into view with a hiss and a flash of smoke. The boy immediately bent over and vomited. He fell to his knees and gasped for a while, then spit hard to clear his mouth.

He was thinner than when I saw him last. And his sweater had some holes.

I took off my jacket and handed it to him.

He nodded in thanks and draped it around his shoulders.

“What is your name?” I asked gently.

“It doesn’t matter.” He said. “Nobody cares. Nobody’s cares who I am or why I’m here.”

“I care.” I said. “I have a son not much older than you back home. He just left for college. If you want you can come back with me and—”

“I can’t.” He shouted angrily.

His eyes burned dark and hot. He was sweating a bit, and his hands shook as they grappled the edges of my coat. Pulling it tight.

“I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have touched it. I should have left well enough alone.”

He wasn’t talking to me anymore, he was muttering and looking at the ground.

I shifted over so that we were closer together. I fished a pack of gum out of my purse and offered him a piece.

“What is this?” He looked scared.

“It’s gum. It’s a kind of candy. You just chew it and don’t swallow. It’s okay. It’s… Sweet?” I tried.

He unwrapped it and put it in his mouth.

“Gosh that is the weirdest… It’s like… My mouth was all dry before and I’m not thirsty anymore. But it’s just this strange rubbery…That is so…. I mean, thank you. I really appreciate it.”

He smiled. It was like he hadn’t done it in a while. The corners of his mouth looked like they weren’t sure whether to go up or down.

“I hope this isn’t too forward.” I started. "But do you want a hug?”

He blushed and pushed his hair out of his eyes.

“Of all the tarts in the world, I found a nice sentimental one with candy in her pockets and a wish to take me away.” He laughed. “You can have all the hugs with me you like. It’s not like there’s anyone else around to hug.”

He fit neatly in my arms. He was stronger than I’d expected. More wiry. He smelled like ash, metal and the salt of unwashed skin.

“Do you want to know a secret?” He whispered into the shell of my ear.

“We never did get flying cars or hoverboards. It’s not a lack of technology. It’s got something to do with magnetism. You can’t break the rules of the universe— just bend them. And hover boards? Them’s a rule breakin’ invention.”

I laughed. I laughed and laughed and laughed.

“You’re such a marvel.” I said when I was finished.

He grinned back at me. Brilliant and true. The moonlight shining off his stainless-steel smile.

“I could have been much more.” He said cockily.

“Are you sure you can’t stay?” I asked. “We have a spare room at my house up in New York…”

“No. Darling. You’re old as dirt, but I’m partial to you. I wouldn’t want to break your husband’s heart.” He winked.

I scowled. “Why are you so rude? And how old are you really?”

“You ask the worst questions.” He replied and disappeared.

—

I moved back to Michigan alone and went to the field every night for twenty years. Until my hair turned gray and the hike over wore on my knees.

I kept the grass green and tended the heather.

Like always, the boy arrived with a hiss.

He lay still in the grass.

He was thin and filthy and barely breathing.

I turned him over and pulled him into my arms.

The boy sobbed.

“I couldn’t… I couldn’t… I tried so hard.”

“It’s okay.” I said.

“It’s not. It feels like it’s been days, but it’s probably been years. I just keep spinning round and round and my own window is out of reach. Yours is the closest so I keep landing here on this stupid rock in the middle of the millennium. I just want to go home.” He curled himself up until he was very small.

The bright thing glowed through the pocket of his tattered trousers.

“What does it do?” I asked.

“I don’t know how it works. It’s either broken or half made. It was sitting on my dad’s desk. I just picked it up and shook it.  It pushes me through time back and forth dropping me in different times. It never stops.  I can urge it one way or another, but I can’t drive it or force it anywhere once I make it work. I’ve been trying to get home for weeks.  I just want to go home. I just want to go home. I just want to go home.”

He repeated it over and over until he fell asleep.

I rubbed his back in circles and stared up at the stars until the sun came up from behind the fir trees.

 When I reached down to wake him up, I realized that he would never wake up again.

There was nothing to eat in the void of time, but star dust. Nothing to breathe but radiation.

I buried him in the heather.

—

Ten years later I went back into the field.

Fifty years had passed.

I looked up into the sky.

After a few hours of darkness, light shot out from the black spot the boy had pointed to so many years ago. The noise shattered the sound barrier and solar winds swept the planet. The night sky bled with reds and blues and purples and white. And it was so bright.

[mya-valentine]

Just had a hilarious thought.

Can I have a funny scenario with the League doing a spicy/toughness contest with a batch of super spicy ramen. And for bonus hilarity, Kurogiri going to clean up the pot of ramen, and discovering that while everyone was in pain, Shigaraki’s sweet little cousin, had gone behind their backs and eaten the whole pot. (She was able to survive the spice due to being half-Thailand descent. XD)

Scenario: Spicy Ramen Challenge with the League of Villains

Setting: The League of Villains’ hideout. The group is gathered around a table, where a large, steaming pot of ramen sits. It looks innocent enough, but this is no ordinary ramen. It’s been infused with the world’s spiciest peppers—a concoction that could send even the toughest villain to their knees. Today, the League is hosting a spicy ramen contest to see who can handle the heat.

Dabi, Toga, Twice, Spinner, and Shigaraki. Kurogiri stands to the side, watching the madness unfold, shaking his head in quiet disapproval. In the background, Shigaraki’s sweet cousin, who often hangs around the League, watches with innocent curiosity.

Dabi: grinning “Come on, this isn’t going to be so bad. It’s just noodles, right? I’ve been through worse.”

Toga: giggling “I can’t wait to see all of you cry! I love spicy stuff!”

Shigaraki: scratching his neck “Tch, let’s just get this over with. How bad can it be?”

Twice: “It’s a terrible idea! It’s a great idea! Let’s burn our mouths!”

Spinner: eyeing the pot warily “I dunno, guys. This smells… dangerous.”

The challenge begins. Each villain grabs a bowl of the spicy ramen and starts eating, trying to look tough in front of the others. The first few bites go down fine, but soon, the heat starts creeping in. Fast.

Dabi: eyes wide, sweat forming on his forehead “Oh. Oh no. This is worse than being set on fire.”

Toga: fanning her mouth “It burns! But it’s so good! But it burns!!”

Twice: “I can’t feel my tongue! I CAN feel my tongue! It’s on fire!”

Shigaraki: wheezing “Whose idea was this…? I’m going to decay whoever made this ramen…”

Spinner: literally turning green “I’m dying. This is it. I’m not gonna make it…”

The group starts chugging water, milk, and anything else they can find, desperately trying to cool their mouths. Tears stream down their faces, and even Dabi, who thought he could handle the heat, looks like he’s ready to pass out. Toga is laughing hysterically while also crying, and Twice is stuck in a loop of groaning and cheering himself on.

Kurogiri: shaking his head “Fools, the lot of you. I warned you.”

After what feels like an eternity, the group finally gives up. They collapse on the couches, holding their stomachs and groaning in pain. The pot of ramen is barely touched, still mostly full.

Shigaraki: gasping for breath “Who... in their right mind… eats this stuff?”

Toga: giggling weakly “We’re supposed to be villains, and we got taken down by noodles.”

Dabi: groaning “This was a bad idea.”

Kurogiri walks over to clean up, shaking his head at the mess. He grabs the pot, about to throw out the leftover ramen when he freezes. The pot is… empty? Completely clean, like it’s been licked dry.

Kurogiri: confused “What on earth…”

That’s when Shigaraki’s sweet little cousin walks in, licking her lips and looking perfectly fine. She had been quietly observing the entire time, and while the League was distracted by their suffering, she had snuck behind them and eaten the entire pot of super-spicy ramen.

Shigaraki’s Cousin: innocent smile “That was really good! Do you guys have any more?”

The entire room goes silent as everyone stares at her in disbelief.

Dabi: still clutching his stomach “Wait… you ate… the whole thing?!”

Toga: wide-eyed “How are you still alive?!”

Twice: “She’s a monster! She’s incredible! I’m scared!”

Shigaraki: speechless, trying to process what just happened “How…?”

Kurogiri: in utter disbelief “That ramen was enough to incapacitate all of you… and she ate the entire pot?!”

Shigaraki’s Cousin: cheerfully “Oh, this wasn’t that spicy! My mom’s from Thailand, so I’m used to eating stuff way hotter than this. You guys are just weak.”

The League of Villains, some of the most dangerous people in society, sit there in stunned silence, having been outclassed in a spicy ramen contest by Shigaraki’s sweet little cousin.

Shigaraki: rubbing his temples “I don’t know what’s worse… the fact that we lost to noodles, or that we got shown up by my cousin.”

Dabi: still in shock “I’m never eating spicy food again.”

Toga: laughing through the pain “We’re the real villains, and we couldn’t even handle ramen!”

And from that day on, whenever anyone in the League mentioned spicy food, they’d all wince in unison, remembering the day Shigaraki’s cousin effortlessly ate the ramen that almost killed them.

.

.

.

Masterlist

[alexanderwales]

I'm going to do a simple grid-based worldbuilding exercise:

There are five attributes: Power, Speed, Precision, Sense, and Vitality.

There are five elements: Leaf, Rust, Syrup, Teeth, Chalk. (These categories are loose an symbolic, not literal. Leaf means anything particulate, Rust is anything with a chaotic process, Syrup is viscous fluids, Teeth are hard and sharp things, and Chalk is anything that writes or marks by leaving something behind.)

There are twenty-five magic systems, predicated on combinations of attribute and element, with relatively high levels of "interpretation" of their base. Rules for myself are no more than a minute per entry, so expect typos, and a few stinkers.

Power-Leaf allows the manifestation of a single giant leaf, as though pulled from some gigaflora, from a regular leaf. This can be wielded as a weapon, and manipulated by the user, creating strong winds, or fanned to help launch the user into the air. Since "Leaf" covers all particulates, less standard versions of this include a giant boulder from a grain of sand or a caber from a wood chip.

Power-Rust allows the indiscriminate spread of chaotic, destructive forces, anything that's a process, including rust, fire, mold, rot, etc. The spread is indiscriminate, but the nature can be tuned, and skilled practitioners learn to pay close attention to their surroundings.

Power-Syrup is a sloshing mess. Anything viscous works, waves of mud, torrents of honey, huge sweeping waves of the stuff in combat, manifested from nothing. Very useful for making any food that's a thick liquid when not in combat.

Power-Teeth is largely bite-based, but also represents a suite of personal combat powers, particularly those that use bone (elbows, knees, headbutts). If teeth is symbolically hardness, then Power-Teeth is using something hard and inflexible as a tool.

Power-Chalk is a marking power, slashing sticks of chalk against the enemy, using those marks to throw them around. The same can be done with objects, a kind of high-power low-precision telekinesis.

Speed-Leaf is speed around obstacles. The naïve case is running very fast across grasslands, but this is the power of falling leaves, which are sometimes carried by the practitioner for use in a fight, letting them move with swift strikes as a handful of grass flutters down around them. The more obstacles and barriers to move around or weave through, the faster they go.

Speed-Rust is largely used as a healing power, accelerating the mending of wounds, but it can speed decay too, or the flourishing of plants, or any other messy biological power. Its use with fire is limited, making it flash brightly and then burn out, but it can be used with rust as well oxidizing touched metals, sometimes so much that it sucks the air from a room.

Speed-Syrup is a movement power, slow to start, slow to stop, mimicking the viscosity of a thick liquid, taking that aspect into their body. Slow to move doesn't just mean that they take a while to get to their top speed, it also means that they can plant their feet in a fight.

Speed-Teeth is hard, sharp, cracking speed, not quite teleportation but the speed of something inflexible. It works better with a rigid subject, like someone in full plate armor, though practitioners without that kind of money sometimes just strap bits of metal to themselves.

Speed-Chalk is a "follow-the-line" speed, better on marked paths, better in a fight with set moves. Restriction breeds speed, and of all the speed class, they're the ones that can move the fastest, assuming that they have a properly lined roaded to run along.

Precision-Leaf is a striking power, best able to hit one thing of many, a knife thrown precisely through a crowd to hit its target, a jab to a weak spot. Metaphorically, it's plucking the single correct leaf from a tree without even trying that hard. In theory, it's taking a chaotic, varied system and isolating an element. In practice, it's best at target selection.

Precision-Rust is bending chaotic systems toward a goal. It's manipulation of that chaos with an aim. Done perfectly, you can walk through flame without getting hurt. It's almost luck-bending, but only when the process in question is sufficiently random or organic.

Precision-Syrup is a matter of flow, moving from one thing to the next without breaks, uninterrupted motion, smooth maneuvers. It comes with the power to alter things around you, bending them to the flow, making wood and stone curve beneath your touch as you move through them like a hand dipping through placid water.

Precision-Teeth is a molding power, shaping things, the harder and stronger, the easier. In combat, you can get a hold of someone, grapple them to the ground, and bend their bones. Out of combat, you can shape marble sculptures by hand.

Precision-Chalk is a matter of lines drawn on the ground or etched into staves, its own subsystem of manipulations.

Sense-Leaf is a branching power, tendrils of sensation that push out and retract. More sensory power is had when you have some time to sit in one place, pushing tendrils and tendrils of tendrils. It's functionally useless if you're moving swiftly, like on a boat, unless you gain something from trailing tendrils behind.

Sense-Rust is future sight, seeing the ways that things will fail and crumble. Because rust covers fire and other reactions too, Sense-Rust can be used by firefighters, letting them know where to go before the fire has gotten too bad. In a fight, Sense-Rust lets you know the best way to break the opponent.

Sense-Syrup is a sense of the slow-moving, things that are stationary, the longer the better, or in a pinch, something that's been moving on the same course for a long time. Virtually useless in a fight, but if anything in a building has been sitting there long enough, they can essentially see through walls. (Professional criminals make sure to move their files around at least once a day.)

Sense-Teeth allows a person to sense through physical totems of personal importance. The ur-example is teeth, a powerful totem with a close personal link, but a blood-soaked rag will do in a pinch.

Sense-Chalk allows inscriptions on paper to create portal views of distant places, but particularly those places which have already been inscribed with marks. A pair of papers must be physically separated for best results, but a blurry, distorted vision can be had from afar with no prep time, at least in a pinch.

Vitality-Leaf allows the drawing of energy from surroundings, with different textures depending on what the source is. Since one of Leaf's aspects is particulates, this works best with leaves, sand, cobbles, dirt, and anything else that's both loose and that there's a lot of.

Vitality-Rust allows the inner cultivation of some chaotic process, usually chosen early in a career. This can be internal fire, internal mold, internal rust, something that must be fed and kept (by e.g. swallowing fuel or metal). This confers strength, and also the ability to spew, leading to fire-breathers and mold-projectors.

Vitality-Syrup are squishy to the touch, like a Stretch Armstrong toy, very difficult to damage because they'll simply tank the hit. The best way to hurt them is to do it slowly or lock them in a position they can't get out of.

Vitality-Teeth is a sharp indestructibility, all-or-nothing hard-but-brittle. They fight like a heavy ceramic teapot, sturdy enough to smash someone over the head with, but if it hits the wrong angle, they'll shatter.

Vitality-Chalk is a variant of phylacteries using chalk markings for conditional restoration. While the most famous of these allows a person to return to life, other objects can be marked with their own conditionals, and a negative application exists where a marked person can be reduced to their lowest point, so long as it was captured by the practitioner at the time.

After-Action

Alright, I found that fun. How are the results? Eh. First pass, there's stuff to like in there. This was pantsing worldbuilding, just spitballing some stuff because I thought I would enjoy it, so I think there's some things to be learned about this system I'm creating.

If Leaf is more like "particulates" then perhaps "Sand" is a better choice, except that Power-Leaf then also needs a change, and maybe need a change anyway. The categories are more like: particulates, reactions, viscous fluids, hard sharp objects, and things that wear away. I was inconsistent about this.

Some of these I like, others are stinkers, which is about what I would expect naturally from variance. Possibly some of the stinkers could be replaced by something better with more time to think and noddle them over. Going for a walk often helps, but I did these basically all in a row over a single sitting without mapping out much ahead of time.

Sense and Vitality have a problem, which is that they're limited and reactive. This is technically fine, but the nature of Sense is probably such that it's never going to be all that useful in a fight, with little agency. It would be good for a spymaster character if I were writing that kind of book, but how many of those do you need? Vitality is more okay, because most lend themselves to tank/bruiser types. The remedy for Sense is probably to make is something with more push/pull, and for sensory stuff, that usually means illusion or mind control.

I would need to sand down and refine these, and if I were writing a novel, think about some of the worldbuilding consequences, and some of the plots, and some of the obvious characters. One of my approaches to storytelling is that I want to find out where the seams are located, all the sites of conflict, all the natural tensions. Some of this is just cool worldbuilding for its own sake, but I think you need to marry that with strong, compelling characters whose layers you can unfold. (It would be a fun writing exercise to create a character for each of these, but that will have to be for another day.)

"What's it for" is not really a question for an exercise like this, but it is one that's vitally important. Obviously this suite is pretty inappropriate if I'm not interested in exploring some fight scenes.

[lineli225]

Shigaraki Tomura, Izuku Midoriya, and their past selves in Horikoshi's other works, an Analysis.

How their archetypes can be traced back all the way to Hori's oldest works!

Today I finally felt with the energy to write this analysis I've been cooking in my head for some months!

I'll be pulling apart the core elements of each of Hori's past work's protagonist duo and how they are essential to everything Hero Academia has became

It will be long.

First things first, let's start with Horikoshi's first work ever!

1. Tenko One Shot.

This tale tells us the story of two main characters, Hana and obviously, Tenko!

Hana is a woman aspiring to be a samurai, she is hopeful and stubborn, but is shunned down by most and ridiculed by other samurais for being, well, a woman wanting to be something only men can be.

But just like Izuku, she is VERY stubborn, and won't give up her dreams at all.

( You can read the full thing here btw! https://imgur.com/a/v7oBkfx )

Our second protagonist, and main tittle of the story, is a little boy called Tenko, who she meets when he literally attacked her lol

Like Tomura, he has the power to decay anything he touches, and is in seek of revenge, his goal is to destroy all swords after his mother was cruelly killed by a samurai.

Despite all the hatred the feels, he is still a kid, suffering and crying in seek of relief for his grief.

He is known as a vandal, and is being wanted dead or alive by the authorities for interfering in battles.

Hana, gentle and caring, notices the pain in Tenko and takes him with her, to take care of him, after all, he is just a child.

But after being found by an official, believes she has the chance to be recognized as a samurai if she give Tenko to the authorities, and well- it obviously goes terribly wrong- as she is attacked by them instead.

Suddenly realizing how cruel they truly are, she takes her own sword and fight them to defend Tenko, making Tenko also realize, swords can be used to protect and save.

In the end, they end up to saving each other, Hana saving Tenko's heart, making him realize his hatred will never lead anywhere, and lift the weight of his chest by winning a friend, and Tenko making Hana realize war is more than what she thought.

Tenko obviously, is literally Tomura's first prototype, the decay power, the white hair, the hatred, guilt and grieve are all there.

But what if I told you Hana is also, pretty similar to Izuku? Both have a dream that is deemed impossible to reach, due to something they lack, and are a joke to most people, but despite it all they never give up, and manage to reach their goals. They are also strong but gentle and caring ( ngl Izuku might even be more soft than Hana ajhdka)

2. Oumagadoki Zoo

This one, guess what, also have a female protagonist, yes also called Hana.

Aoi Hana is a bubbly, awkward and stubborn girl with her head in the clouds, but teased by everyone, known as "good for nothing" and useless.

She then decides to get a job during summer break, to prove she is more than capable of helping.

As an animal lover, she gets a job at the local Zoo as a cleaner, but she discover that the Zoon principal is a literal bunny person.

Shiina, the other protagonist of the story, is a man-child dude, he was cursed as a kid for being mean to a bunny, turned into a rabbit until he learned to be kind and help animals. Much like Tomura, he is short tempered, a gremlin, a little bitch!

He created the zoo to try to break the curse, and now counts with Hana's help to do so. The zoo, by the way, is also full of cursed half human half animal people!

The manga was canceled, so Hori had to rush the end, it has only 5 volumes, but I believe it would end with Hana finally breaking Shiina's curse.

Well, the similarities to Tomura? Once again through the roof, he is literally Tomura without depression (and scars and wrinkles)! He is a brat, selfish, intelligent and powerful, but incredibly dumb, he even refers to the other zoo people as "comrades" the exact same word Tomura refers the League of Villains as! They even sit down the same, careless way! Bad posture kings 🦐

Now, I think you noticed that Hana's story is also familiar? Yes! IZUKU

Both are deemed useless, are clumsy and awkward, and have pretty much low self esteem, but are kind, gentle and loving, and have an altruistic heart!

Just like in Tenko, Hana is key to saving Shiina's heart, and both learn a lot with each other, as Shiina sees the worth in Hana, and Hana sees the kindness in Shiina, evolving each other to the better.

3. Shinka Rhapsody One shot

This one is pretty much lost media, very few people know about it, but i found a thread about it

(thread here https://twitter.com/HeroFletch/status/1273054822162456578 )

It is literally MHA but the quirks work in a different way

This time the first protag is the man and the girl is the second, but it doesn't matter lol

The story happens in a world similar to the one of the raise of quirks in MHA, criminal rate is all time up.

The protagonist Magari/Masashi(idk) is, again, a guy with strong personality, seeking for revenge and power, as his family was murdered by a serial killer

He got a power similar to Kirishima's, but oh boy his face and personality is just Tomura all over again, Hori's favorite OC

And guess what??? Ohh he also has a female companion helping him???? YES HE DOES!

Her name is Aoi, yes, like Aoi Hana from the zoo one, yes guess what, yes, bubbly awkward, yes.

She is an aspiring detective and has the habit of asking people if they like Katsudon, her favorite food.

Wait... Katsudon? As favorite food... Where I saw this before-

4. Boku no Hero One shot.

here if u wanna read https://yesmangas1.com/manga/boku-no-hero-ym23733/one-shot#1

This one is a break to the pattern, no Shigaraki look alike, no Aoi Hana, but, someone who is pretty similar to her in personality:

Jack Midoriya

Jack Midoriya is a quirkless man in a super society, his job is to sell support items, but he is too awkward, clumsy and stubborn, causing more problems than helping, he has an impossible dream of becoming a hero, so he tries to become the first quirkless hero! (it goes wrong)

There is a girl in this story too, i guess she is this Izuku's Uraraka, they are both literally the same in personality, so i guess hori Split Hana in two for this one.

5. Barrage or Sensei no Bulge

(the second tittle is so funny lmao)

This time hori completly threw everything out and said: fuck the pattern, fuck Hana, fuck Tenko wanabe!

It has literally nothing to do with anything he did previously. Astro, can be similar to Izuku, but hmmm not fit the mold, so i'll just skip lmao, it also was canceled, ending in 2 volumes anyways.

SUMMARY AND CONCLUSION

So far, we can conclude a very recurrent pattern in every work Horikoshi publicized (except barrage lolz)

Protagonist 1:

Is a gentle, caring, stubborn, clumsy and awkward person, they have a heart of a hero, but are often seen as weak, useless, and stupid for dreaming too high. They can be strong when they want to, but feminine and loving too, they are altruistic, loyal, and focused. Their role in the story is to find their own self worth, as well as help the 2nd protagonist break free from a torment.

Protag 2:

A selfish, childish, mean and also stubborn boy, who's heart is filled with hatred, hurt and grief, they are cursed somehow, and besides having a rough exterior, deep inside they are still just a child who seeks relief. Their role in the story, is to after Protag 1 advances, open up and allow themselves to be saved in heart and mind.

Of course, due to the past series length of few pages to only a few volumes, they open up to each other and befriend rather quickly, but MHA is well- 40 volumes long by now, ofc course P.2 will give much more trouble to open up, it's not that easy to cure someone's bitterness and guilt!

Which leads to Horikoshi's last work, My Hero Academia.

The story of protagonist 1 incarnated as a mix of every character Hori wrote before as Izuku Midoriya, a quirkless boy who feels useless, but has a big dream, a kind heart and the desire to save.

And also the story of MHA's society's biggest victim, a childish man who has been hurt in every possible way, by every person he dared to trust, be it his own family or his "sensei", Tomura Shigaraki is nothing but a child at heart, crying onto his puppy, waiting for the one who will save him.

This is undeniable, I was already sure with everything I've read in MHA that Tomura is getting saved, Izuku yelled it himself, and the narrative is walking towards that.

But after analyzing Hori's part works, and see how wholesome and hopeful his stories are, how he desires to transmit the message that everyone deserves a second chance, i have no doubt.

Tomura is DESTINED to be not only saved, redeemed or live, but to have a happy ending and finally have a friend to trust.

As every story so far ended with the kind one befriending and becoming a pillar to the hurt one.

Izuku and Tomura are more than the heart of My hero Academia, but also the heart of everything Horikoshi wants to tell to the world.

They are fated to end the same way every time, in every universe.

BESTIES ARC IS COMING.

[kaiser-s-bitch]

a/n: dedicated to my dear @sugarkage >:))

———

Nagi Seishiro - fluff hcs || sfw

• Nagi is a very passive guy when it comes to literally anything he’s not interested in, but if he engages in something that he is interested in, you will not be able to drag him away from it - video games, for the most part

• which, however, makes him the perfect boyfriend if you’re into games too, cause if you can’t beat em… join em!!

• gaming together with you is his idea of ideal quality time, so don’t underestimate how much those joined gaming sessions mean to him even if it feels like he’s not giving you much attention

• Nagi loves just having you close to him, even while gaming he just has to have some body part of his touching you; will throw his heavy ass legs over you and keep them there no matter how much you complain, if you don’t want that to happen you better sit or lay down in his lap first

• will often make deals/bets with you, mainly along the lines of "Whoever loses the next game has to get up to make us dinner/get some takeout"; though he usually only brings that up if he’s confident he’ll win (and if he loses after all, he’ll definitely start bargaining lol)

• if you don’t know how to cook or you can’t be bothered to eat healthily, then you and Nagi would both decay due to fast/instant food overload in your cave, if it wasn’t for Reo making or having good food delivered on your behalf (he’s complaining a lot about it but he keeps helping out, you’re both his baby chicks now)

• Nagi enjoys cuddling you a lot, it combines two of his favorite things: 1) being comfy and doing basically nothing and 2) having your smaller form snuggled up to him is like, having his personal plushy

• as for the position, Nagi enjoys spooning a lot; whether he’s the big or small spoon doesn’t matter to him, both is comfy af (though it’s kinda strange to call this moose of a man "small" in any way-)

• something that Nagi frequently does is taking one of his oversized hoodies and pulling it over both himself and you, that way you’re literally glued to this huge, lazy cuddle monster and can’t get up or move too much

• he won’t pick you up if he’s the one that has to get up though, he’ll just tell you you’re too heavy even if you’re like, a third of his weight (don’t take it personal, it’s just too much of a hassle to carry you)

• this man ALWAYS sleeps in, unless he has soccer practice (though I feel like he might still miss it occasionally if it’s too early in the morning lmao)

• will get very grumpy if you, aka his personal plushy, wrestle yourself out of his iron grip because you have to get up early for work

• half asleep, he might just pull you back down and bury you under his weight to keep you in place, mumbling for you to stop moving - good luck escaping that

• the only way to escape is giving him lots of kisses all over and promising him more cuddles and kisses for when you’re back; he will actually hold you to that so you better not forget

• though it’s not like he would let you forget, cause once you’re back home, this overgrown baby will hug you and lean himself against you, causing you to fall onto the couch with him on top

• there’s absolutely no way out of that one now, but who are you to complain?

———

p.s.: authentic baby chick Nagi

[dwtdog]

George can’t help the way his eyes follow golden wings as they pass by him, feathers perfectly arranged and shining in the low light of morning. The man they belong to is equally as alluring, his hair just a few shades darker than his wings, his shoulders broad. 

George’s own wings twitch against his back where he has them carefully folded so as to not take up too much space in the already crowded cafe he’s chosen to do his work in this morning. He can feel eyes on him, but he hardly pays them any attention- it gets old, eventually, and he’s been dealing with the stares for nearly ten years by now. 

The man vanishes into a coming crowd, and George can only track him by the heads that turn to follow. He supposed he’s no different- pulled so easily from his work by an omega.

With a sigh, he ducks his head and pulls his attention back to the spreadsheet filling his screen, data to be wrangled into a usable form. It’s not his usual brand of work, but he’s been asked to do increasingly more recently, new assignments falling on his desk every morning, with no raise in pay to accompany them.

The rest of the morning passes slowly, not a single other winged person passing by the window. It’s not unusual- alphas and omegas are rare, incredibly so, and the chances of George and the man with golden wings being in the same vicinity is a miracle in itself. 

“Excuse me,” a voice says, and George feels a tap on his shoulder. He sighs, preparing himself for whatever may come. His only respite is that whoever has approached him hadn’t started off their interaction by touching his wings- a depressingly rare joy.

George turns with a tight-lipped smile affixed to his face, and is met with the wide eyes of a child, and the more tentative gaze of a woman who appears to be her mother. “Ah- hello,” he says awkwardly. 

The child’s eyes widen further, and her mother places a hand on her head. “Sorry to bother you, but she wouldn’t leave until we said hello. I’m sure you’re used to hearing that though.”

George grimaces. It’s certainly true, but he does have a soft spot for kids. “That’s okay,” he says, a more genuine smile appearing. “It’s okay to be curious- I’m sure I was the same when I was your age.”

“Can I touch them?” the girl blurts out, and George and her mum both wince.

The woman opens her mouth to speak, but George beats her to it. “I’m glad you asked, but they’re very personal. It would be like- like if I asked to touch your ear.”

The girls mouth forms into an O. “Do you ever hit them on stuff?” she asks, carrying right along, and George laughs.

“All the time,” he says with a theatrical groan. “They never make doors wide enough.”

She has more questions, and George humors her until her mum checks her wrist. “Oh, sorry darling, but we really need to get to the store. Tell the nice man thank you?”

“Thank you!” she immediately chirps, looking at George with stars in her eyes. He raises his hand for a fist bump, and she returns it with glee.

He waves as they leave, even twitching a wing out in farewell. His back twinges as he does, a reminder that he’s been sitting for too long, and he quickly packs up his stuff and leaves the cafe, dropping a few extra dollars in the tip jar on his way out for the extra time spent. 

Navigating the busy streets is always difficult- he pulls his wings as close to his body as he physically can, but people still manage to bump into them. He brushes off the dirty looks, more of the same, and keeps on heading in the direction of his favorite park. 

He loves the city, despite the space troubles.

It’s the atmosphere that he craves. He knows most alphas and omegas prefer to stay in small towns, where they can thrive with plenty of space to spread their wings, quite literally, with far fewer stares, but George wouldn’t give up his shitty apartment for anything. 

He smells the park before he sees it- the scent of nature overtaking the grimier undertones of the city, grass and dirt and decaying leaves far more pleasant. As an alpha, George can detect far more scents than the average person. It had overwhelmed him when he’d first presented, his wings and new, enhanced senses appearing out of nowhere a month or so after his sixteenth birthday. But he’d adapted- learned to shut out the scents, to keep his wings tucked up against him, even if his back muscles would be cramping something awful by the end of every day.

The park is his respite, his most frequently visited part of the city. It’s busy, but not in the same way the city is. 

As soon as he steps onto one of the paved paths running through the grass, he lets his shoulders relax, his wings flaring out to a more comfortable position. 

He’d hated them at first- scaly, dark things that ensured he’d never be able to enter a room without turning heads. He’d envied omegas for their beautiful feathers, far more pleasing to look at than his. 

Now, as he spreads them wide, stretching every muscle until they ache, he can admire the subtle blue sheen over black and grey scales, the way the light catches on them. He feels powerful, impressive. And very tempted to grab a shiny bit of metal that catches his eye.

He wasn’t prepared for the instincts when he first presented. Everyone warned him about the stares, the pressure to find another person like him to settle down with. But they never mentioned the damn urges to pick up every shiny bit of trash that sat on a street corner, or the way he could never resist a piece of jewelry if it caught his eye. 

Which was probably why the winged man earlier had drawn his attention- George was sure that he must be getting approached by alphas left and right, his wings drawing them in like magpies. 

George shakes his head, trying to clear it of the man. He’d long since given up on meeting an omega, let alone dating one. He’d given up on most romantic pursuits in general, really, a nagging anxiety that might just be pursuing him as an oddity rather than out of true attraction plaguing him.

He flaps his wings once, twice. Not powerful enough to get him off the ground- that’s something he certainly can’t do in the city- air space laws keeping his feet firmly planted on the ground. But it does feel good to exert the limbs a bit, so he moves them as he walks between grand old trees, keeping a close eye out for anyone, not keen on getting shouted at for wacking them.

He probably doesn’t make the most elegant sight, walking the paths of the park alone while flapping his wings around like an idiot, but George couldn’t care less. 

When his wings start to burn, unexercised muscles reaching their limit, George turns on his heel and heads back the way he’d came- or, he tries to. He stumbles when he runs square into someone, wings flailing out to balance himself. 

“Woah!” a male voice says, and hands land on George’s shoulders, steadying him. “Sorry, I don’t- I didn’t realize how close I was. I was so in my head,” he laughs awkwardly.

George blinks up at him, and his face looks- familiar. Golden hair halos his face, the sun directly above them, and George wants to grab hold of him and fly away. 

“Uh,” George says, eloquent. “Hi.”

The man blinks at him. “Hi?”

“Do I know you?” 

“You’d probably remember if you did,” the man says, releasing George and taking a step back. George, absurdly, misses the contact in the moment before he sees the reason for the distance. “Most people remember me by these.” And behind the man stretch golden, feathery wings. 

George’s mouth falls open. “You’re- I saw you earlier.”

“Oh?” he says, tilting his head in a way that makes George’s stomach flutter. “I didn’t see you.” His eyes dart to George’s side, where his wings are still spread. George blushes, tucking them back in. He doesn’t miss the way the man’s face falls, his own wings mirroring George’s.

“Ah- yeah,” George bites his lip, embarrassed. “I saw you uh- through a window.”

The man nods, then smiles. “Crazy coincidence we met then, huh?”

“Well,” George says, ignoring the way his heart flutters at the flirty tilt to the man’s mouth. “If I was expecting to meet an omega anywhere, it probably would be at a park. Open space and all that.”

“Oh, come on. Let me be a romantic,” he offers a hand to George. “I’m Dream.”

“George,” he says, taking the offered hand. “And I can be plenty romantic.”

“I’d like to see that,” Dream says with a squeeze of his hand.

Someone runs past them on the path, decked out fully in all the gear of someone obsessed with the exercise, their eyes locked on Dream and George the entire time. 

George rolls his eyes, dropping Dream’s hand. “I’m sure you would,” he teases, even as butterflies fill his stomach.

He’s not entirely sure what’s happening- Dream is still looking at him, and his gaze is so intense it makes George a little nervous. But there’s a flame burning in his chest, that urge to grab the man under the shoulders and carry him off still present. 

“You want to like, get lunch or something?” George asks, biting his tongue. “Not- well, not if you’re busy obviously. Or if you don’t want to. Or if you feel pressured because of the like-”

“Yes,” Dream says, cutting him off with a laugh. “I’d love to get lunch. I was a little worried you’d ask to get coffee. I don’t think I could stomach talking to you if you wanted to get coffee.”

George makes a face. “Does it smell bad to you, too? I can’t stand it.”

Dream nods, his eyes lighting up as he launches into a rant about coffee that George listens to diligently. His mind wanders a bit when the wind picks up, pushing Dream’s scent toward him- and he certainly smells nothing like coffee. His scent is trees and grass, fresh and new and relaxing, and George takes a deep breath in. Dream pauses, raising an eyebrow at him, and George flushes. 

Before he can say anything, a stilted apology on the tip of his tongue, Dream waves a hand. “No, don’t worry, I get it. You smell good too,” he smiles, sharp teeth appearing between his parted lips, and George returns it easily. 

“You don’t know I was going to say you smelled good,” George says with a shrug. “Maybe you stink.”

Dream glares at him. “I do not.”

George lets the silence grow between them for a moment before he breaks, laughing at the outrage on Dream’s face. “I guess you smell okay.”

“Liar,” Dream grumbles. 

“Who knows,” George shoots back. “Do you have like, a lunch spot? My old one closed a month ago.”

“Probably because you stink,” Dream says, carrying on before George can respond. “But yeah, I know this one place- sushi, if you like that?” George’s stomach grumbles at the mention of it. “Well, that sounds like a yes to me.”

“Fine. Take me to your sushi spot,” George waves his hand, shaking his wings out one last time as he prepares to head back into the crowded streets. “It better be good.”

[brittscafe]

hi! I completely love your hcs for shunsui 😩 can I also request nsfw and sfw hcs for shinji?

have a nice dayy

Thank you and of course! <3 Shinji is sooo underrated.

Shinji Hirako Headcanons:

SWF:

The biggest tease to exist.

Shinji has the deepest attachment to you and would literally decay if you ever left him.

Shinji's the biggest fan of PDA.

He has a habit of slapping your ass as you walk past him and adores seeing the way you fluster at his actions.

He has no shame in pulling you aside for a quick little make out session and shoving his tongue into your mouth.

Everyone in the soul society knows you're together as Shinji practically chases you around every second of the day.

His love language is words of affirmation.

Shinji has a way with words that swoon you easily.

If you feel insecure or sad, he will cheer you up within 5 seconds.

Although, he would never admit it, he's very smart and can tell how you're feeling with just one glance.

If you ever get seriously injured, a flicker of anger jolts Shinji's body and he'll make whoever harmed you pay.

Shinji cares deeply about you and he'll hunt whoever hurt you to the ends of the earth.

After that, he'll stay by your side and nurse you back to health.

In the morning, he'll be sweet and pull you into his chest.

He'll pepper your face in kisses, praising you and telling you how much he loves and adores you.

He always convinces you to stay in bed a little longer than you're suppose to.

Shinji will often tickle you and a smile grows widely on his face as your laughter fills the room.

He loves your laughter and will find anyway to make you laugh.

His kisses are from straight heaven...or hell depending on how you see it.

He'll linger his lips over yours, teasing you.

Just when you think he's done teasing you and you start to walk away, he grabs onto your wrist and pulls you into a deep kiss.

It takes your breath away and just when you think he's done, he starts teasing you again.

He loves to play games with you.

NSWF:

He's one cocky motherfucker in bed (excuse my language...)

He loves to tease you to your breaking point when until you beg for him on your knees.

He's down to try anything. Blindfolds, bondage, spanking, but his favorites are overstimulation and mirror sex.

Now, he would never do anything to hurt you unless you asked.

He loves seeing the way face twists in pleasure and how your mouth drops open, letting out a moan in the mirror as his fingers are deep inside of you.

Shinji adores praising you in front of the mirror. If you feel insecure about your body, he'll waste no time undressing you and touching every inch of your body while explaining how much he worships you.

Don't even get me started on overstimulation. He'll do it until there are tears about to slip out from your eyes.

The only time, he likes to see tears pouring out from your eyes is when you down on your knees and you're practically gagging on his cock.

One time you asked him to pull your hair and it was a huge mistake.

At first, you thought you were going to enjoy it until Shinji almost broke your neck in half.

He profusely apologized to you and made it up to you later.

Let's just say he never tried to pull on your hair again or you swore to kill him in his sleep.

Shinji loves to take bath with you after and clean you up.

He'll hold you in his arms and massage the parts of your body that are sore while telling you how good of a job you did.

You usually end up falling asleep in his arms, so he'll dry you and off and put you into a new change of clothes before he carries you to bed.

[tickly-giggles]

Okay, your Kurogiri was just sad. Like, reasonable and realistic and great, but now I'm sad. 😭

How about his son, Shigaraki? How is he as a lee/ler?

I'm so sorryyyy, I wanted to make it realistic TvT

Also, Shiggyyy!

Warning for mentions of abuse and PTSD

Shigaraki Tickle Headcanons

Growing up in an abusive household didn't leave room for tickling as an experience

If any tickling were to happen, it would have been very brief and rare, likely between him and his sister

Since his villain arc literally began when he was still a child, he grew up without ever experiencing it to its fullest, and is extremely touch starved as a result

As an adult, he would think of being ticklish as a weakness

His skin is so dry from his constant scratching, so he's not as ticklish as he could be, but he is still quite ticklish

Circumstances would eventually lead to the League finding out that his worst spots are the tops of his knees, his thighs, ribs, and armpits

His armpits are especially ticklish because they never got scratched much throughout his life

Any other area is most affected by being squeezed and kneaded

His laughter is low and raspy, but gets squeaky (and still raspy) when you tickle his bad spots

He's touch starved, but very scared of physical affection

If anyone even tries to touch him, he recoils and gets aggressive

This is likely a reflex from the trauma caused by his father always hitting him

Naturally, he would hate the idea of being tickled, but I imagine he would open up to it over time

It would take a long time, but he could grow to like being tickled

It could be a way to help him cope with his fear of being touched

Some experimenting would lead the League to find out that a medicated lotion helps bring some life and sensitivity back to his skin

He would start keeping a small bottle of lotion on him at all times after that

He was never really given much praise as a child, either, so praising teases would fluster him so bad

Just gentle praising along with gentle tickles would destroy him

As a ler, he's very inexperienced

Any tickling from his childhood would have resulted on him being on the receiving end, so he's never actually tickled someone

He doesn't want to accidentally decay one of the League members, so he's never thought to try

He started wearing two-fingered gloves around the hideout so he could live without worrying about decaying anything

He wouldn't be open to tickling anyone immediately, but when he did, he would start with light pokes and jabs to his fellow members

He'd be confused and very embarrassed at first, but would grow more experienced over time

He likes to use light strokes of his fingers the most

He would get an extreme feeling of power at seeing someone beneath him going crazy with laughter, so that would help him feel more relaxed and open to the idea

A lot of his teases would be video game related

"Get comfortable, cuz this run has only just started~"

"I'm not even the final boss, and you're already running out of stamina?"

"If only you had a way to nerf how ticklish you are~"

His lees would think his teasing is so corny and laugh more as a result

[zorilleerrant]

For Sale

@flashfictionfridayofficial

There’s something familiar about the house, even though there shouldn’t be. None of us have even studied this era in depth, as far as I know – the angel and demon might have, but they don’t seem to have followed us here. They might not be allowed to. I’ve never been to this city. If anyone else has, they haven’t said. All the same, it’s on the tip of my tongue, and looking around isn’t resolving the déjà vu even slightly.

The vision comes to me the way they all have, so far, vertigo and irritation. The smell of decay – the gentler, earthy kind – and settled dust. Broken stairs and faded paint and no electricity. No running water, but a drip always just the next room over nonetheless. A tablecloth, picnicware to brighten up the place, and everyone – almost everyone – laughing. Sharing a meal together.

I blink and the house goes back to normal, or as normal as a house like this can be when it’s not a museum. It smells like latex paint and some sort of chemical cleaner. They’ve given up on it, from the state of the yard and the sign in it, but everything still looks bright and neat and new. No furniture. I guess that comes later, if at all.

The stairs are in good repair, and somehow look less stately for it. The lights flicker on. I walk upstairs to see if there’s anything else we should look out for, animals or problems or clues, but it’s just more of the same. Empty rooms in different colors and the stifling smell of historical paint trapped inside.

It’s not a good time to be selling homes, anyway. Especially not here. Least popular mayor in history, some say, but I still think that was mostly the asteroid.

I mean, I’m not looking forward to the witch trials. But they wouldn’t have happened if no one was.

When I get back downstairs, there’s soup on the stove. We’re going to have to find real furniture somewhere, but someone’s found folding chairs and a rickety table in one of the closets, and that’s close enough for dinner.

I glance at the stove, and the soup changes. Shit. I can’t tell which version is real. I guess I’ll know when I taste it.

The Major’s set up all our sleeping bags in the living room, and I can’t tell you how relieved I am to hear it. The rooms upstairs all give me the creeps. It’s something about the shape of the windows, I think, or the sound of the ventilation, like the special lights they install that play sound effects in the reproductions. I don’t think anyone did anything special here. I think they’re just like that.

Probably I should be relieved she had sleeping bags for all of us, but I guess the military’s nothing if not prepared. Probably I should be relieved one of us is a nervous cook. Probably I should be relieved most of us are adults, and the kids are old enough to pass for one, with enough confidence.

Probably I should be relieved there are so many homes standing empty on this side of town, but that just makes me depressed again. I think my family came from here, way back when. I think if I went to talk to them they’d let me see the lost codices, they’d let me touch the amulets and stir the family recipes. The ones that stayed, anyway. I don’t know why they stayed when they could see what’s coming. I don’t want to.

None of us want to. Someone’s literally started taping photos to the walls.

I think the terms of the prophecy trap us here, but I’m not an expert, and I’m willing to look for one, if anybody knows safe channels for it. Maybe there’s just someone we have to meet, or something we have to get, or something we have to know, or witness, or learn. Maybe we can go back home before, well, before the asteroid, at least, if not earlier.

The windows are so thick, and not quite clear, and yet the cold radiates off of them, like they’re no protection from the wind outside. I can hear it pick up through the trees. Everyone else huddles closer to the inside of the house, away from the walls, towards the dubious warmth of the kitchen. How did people heat their houses? Naked fires, indoors?

A dog yips behind me, and I almost catch a glimpse as I turn, but it fades too fast for me to even catch whose dog it was. Will be. Probably the hacker’s again, like I promised. Too much to hope we got slung back in time just to meet a familiar.

I feel like we should have had a historian on the team. I feel like this was large enough we should have one. What are we doing if none of us know shit about history and all of us are trying to remember lessons from grade school about things most of us had no reason to care about and I, at least, already knew were wrong anyway? I don’t even know where to get food once we get through whatever’s stocked in the cupboards.

Are we going to have to hunt it ourselves?

[twotangledsisters]

"Cass dies in the Great Tree" Is the title literal? Or does it mean something else?

Do you have a piece of history made? Anything you could share? That title and that "Shot" made me curious

Funnily enough... it's not literal but because Cass actually dies AFTER leaving the tree XD so not in the Great Tree.

But yeah, it's not a title to keep. If I don't have a title I just put down the concept until I figure one out!

It's an AU where Cass touching Rapunzel has a much bigger consequence and the gang tries to get her help before it's too late but can't. And Rapunzel and company have to deal with both the guilt of not listening to Cass about the tree being dangerous, but also the consequences, things like, writing home to Corona to let Captain know...

It's only meant to be short but it's another case of... how in the world do I end this little bit of angst?

Here's a few snippets of what's already written :D

In the sunlight the extent of Cassandra’s injury became clear, an almost burnt like black texture covered her arm, her fingernails were gone, her fingers didn’t look like fingers. “Cassandra…” Rapunzel stared. Cassandra took a few deep breaths. “Is everybody alive?” Eugene looked around, leaning heavily on Lance, the decay incantation has taken a lot out of him but he could count. “Yeah… Yeah, for now,” he tried to joke. “Does your hand hurt, Cass?” Cassandra looked up at Rapunzel, tears were in her eyes, something Rapunzel had never seen from her usually strong friend. “That’s a yes…” Eugene answered. “I think I need help…” She whispered. Rapunzel nodded. “Don’t worry, Cass, we’re going to get you to the closest town with a doctor! Right, guys?” Nods and the gang got into action, packing what belongings they had left, Fidella knelt down next to Cassandra and Eugene moved to look at the injury, but it was like nothing he’d ever seen before and he didn’t know how to help.

Cassandra rested on Fidella’s back. Her breathing was shallow, and she lacked all of her usual stability. She was so shaky that Lance and Eugene were standing on either side of Fidella, ready to catch the woman if she fell. Her right arm was completely limp at this point, the blackness which had started with her hand had spread upwards, now reaching past her elbow and towards her shoulder. It wouldn’t be long until it reached a more crucial part of her body. Rapunzel was walking way up ahead, her eyes on the horizon, she hurried as much as she could hoping the next town would come into view already so they could locate a doctor’s office and get Cassandra the help she needed. Rapunzel didn’t know what she’d do if things got worse.

Cassandra lay in the bed with the white sheets, her arm resting atop the sheets. Her arm didn’t even look like an arm at this point and the fact her breathing was so painful told her the blackness had reached her lungs. The past few days were a blur of pain and tears. Rapunzel was inconsolable, not even Eugene could calm her down. Right now Rapunzel was asleep in the chair to the left and Eugene was sitting to Cassandra’s right. He’d been annoyingly quiet these past few days, no bad jokes or stupid comments. Cassandra hated it, but she also understood. “Eugene,” she whispered. His eyes moved to meet hers. “Yes?” “If I don’t—” “Don’t.” Eugene’s eyes went wide, and he shook his head. Cassandra smiled. “Scared?” Eugene didn’t know what to respond. “Just… In case,” she whispered. “If I don’t make it, tell my father I love him, alright?” Eugene nodded.

The sun was rising and neither Eugene nor Rapunzel had managed a word more than ‘To the Captain of Corona’s Royal Guard’. How do you tell a man his daughter’s dead? Sending a letter felt wrong. But waiting for them to get home rather than tell him immediately felt worse. “How could this happen?” Rapunzel didn’t have an answer. “Two days ago she was fighting our enemies and now she’s gone.” “Magic…” Rapunzel whispered, her fingers going through her hair. “I guess… I guess it doesn’t just bring stuff back… Sometimes it takes stuff away.” She took a deep breath as tears ran down her face. “Eugene… This is all my fault.” “No, no, I agreed with you, we all did except Cassandra.” “But she was right.” “But it’s not all your fault. I could have sided with her. But I… I didn’t. I never sided with Cass.”

[skycas1noregular]

New chapter (7) of A new Angel of the Decay just dropped. Let's talk about it

I don't know how many of you read it/came from my AO3, but I want to talk about that fic of mine and this new chapter, so I will (because I have free will, as Nikolai would say)

For those who have no idea about what I'm taking about but want to know: check out the fic. In short, it's about Fyosiglai being parents. But it's angsty because I love being hurt and hurting others with my writing :)

Now for analysis of the new chapter.

Overall, I enjoyed writing this chapter and fixing it when my co-author got more ideas or better ones. On grammarly I got a score over 90 (out of 100) so I'm satisfied hahah. But on emotional level, I feel like it's not as angsty (it still hurt me to write some scenes, though). Now for individual parts of the chapter.

About flowers

It's so damn sad that Sigma isn't even aware that Fyodor is the one responsible for bringing him flowers when he's asleep. And so damn angsty that Nikolai isn't willing to let him know. Just the fact that he confirmed (obviously lied) he's the one who does it makes it obvious he doesn't want Fyodor in their life, at all. Especially in Sigma's life and/or Sigma's head.

About Nikolai and Sigma comforting each other

When I first wrote the scene of Sigma comforting Nikolai, my co-writter let me know that Sigma seemed a bit too alright. That's true. At first I did focus on Nikolai since he's the one that is rarely hurt and rarely needs comfort. Later on, I did rewrite the scene as both of them not being even close to alright, both comforting each other the best way they know. That is physical touch. A simple hug.

I love them so fucking much and it pains me that they're in pain (even though I literally wrote this and decided this fic would be angsty as hell from the beginning, but that's besides the point).

About baths

I wrote Nikolai's thoughts on them, but I don't think I ever really said what exactly is going on in that bathtub. The true answer is: nothing. No sex, just intimacy of Fyodor running his fingers through Sigma's hair while he's leaning back on him. They don't even talk, just enjoy each other's company. Sigma gave up on trying to talk once he did and was basically left alone. Now, he doesn't talk or confront Fyodor in any way; just enjoys rare intimacy.

About kindergarten documents

That was one hell of a ride. Of course that at first Fyodor didn't want to sign them, not only because of his statement ("Theo shouldn't learn through games") but because he knew Nikolai messed around with documents and decided to hide them under tons of which Fyodor had to sign for work. He knew Sigma would never do such a thing since Sigma understands how important it is for documents to be organized (and he knew Sigma wouldn't be tricking him into anything).

Later on, he found the same documents on his desk, right in the middle, with a sticky note that said 'please' with a heart to the side. What I didn't write, since this chapter was from Nikolai's perspective, is that Fyodor added another heart, which makes me want to cry. It proves that Fyodor isn't as defensive when it comes to Sigma since Sigma isn't as agressive with these things like Nikolai tends to be. And honestly, I don't blame him. Perhaps that gentle approach is all he needs to comply.

About Sigma's dream

When my co-writer/friend came up with this scene, I was on the bring of tears. Just thinking about how much it hurt Sigma to wake up in that room, to realize that it was all a dream and that he will never have the happy family like he wanted from the start makes me want to go to sleep and never wake up, to dream about my own life like it's perfect, without any worries. Unfortunately, life doesn't work like that. Not in reality and not in fiction (since I myself don't want to make them happy, but that's besides the point...)

Also the fact that Fyodor heard that is... heartbreaking, honestly. Perhaps that was what got him to actually sign the documents, to make Sigma at least a bit more happier.

About their intimacy

Now, this isn't meant to be a smut fic (obviously), but it does contain those themes. They're important. Sex is important to Nikolai, yet he wouldn't do a thing if Sigma didn't initiate it. We love respectful and mature Nikolai! No, really, he asked if Sigma was alright with it multiple times, and I think that's beautiful. Even if he himself is so pent up, he cares enough to ask and make sure Sigma would be comfortable.

I added this scene for plot reasons: first because it breaks the angst a bit and gives an illusion that everything is fine, and second because I need it for the later chapter lmao.

About Theo / Unwritten scenario because I didn't want to have to explain how the hell they get to the Sky Casino (because I, honestly, am not even sure myself)

But anyway. When Nikolai parked the car, Theo woke up but kept eyes closed for Nikolai to carry him. Nikolai let him know he knows he's awake, but Theo simply answered with 'I'm not' and got Nikolai to carry him regardless. A win is a win, kiddo. Good job.

If you stayed and read this analysis, do tell what you think about this chapter and feel free to ask questions about this fic since I love it so, so much and can talk about it for days straight. But yeah, that's all. Thank you for reading :3

[the-real-rain-world-confessions]

what if i want to see nasty iterator bullshit because they have nasty creators that would've likely let this happen so they could ascend and make them solve their stupid fucking problem that made them all miserable and fucked up to begin with when created. not even in terms of relationships or anything.

their existence is fucked up and they should be allowed to do fucked up stuff. pebbles literally nearly killed moon if it wasn't for significant giving slag keys. maybe pebbles would come to moon even including giving up his core. you can see his observers start to wander further in game after the core is taken. suns fucked up with pebbles when they did their best to help and advise. same with sliver who is dead and tried to help bring others with her to end their suffering. to them at this point with everything they knew so rotted away and pointless to keep up when a new ecosystem is taking hold in the abandoned world. they have no reason to hold ties to old relationships and bonds that won't matter in the new world that's to come.

besides, maybe being a bit fucked up with media is good for refreshing yourself on what's good and bad. perhaps even allowing you to healthily go through motions of trauma you've had that could be compared to the iterators and reaffirm you made the right choice to get help. who fucking cares as long as the media isn't condoning it and labeling it as "normal and healthy". not everyone heals by always consuming media that's aligned with their struggles and reality. sometimes they heal by ripping that bandage off and cleaning it the fuck up by looking at it to see how to clean it. (metaphorically speaking.) you let that wound fester and it becomes rot like pebbles with his attempts.

he didnt come clean with others. he should have listened. but they all still cared about him anyway and that's a love that transcends labels. its unconditional. regardless of what they did to each other. regardless of what they all suffered. they had each other. even if they could not show it in the healthiest of ways. even when so far apart. at least moon and pebbles were so close. pebbles even chose to die the most painful ways as an iterator to right his wrongs. isnt his twisted rage and care so admirable? that he tried to break the cycle for them all, fucked up, and did the most he could to fix it when it all came to do or die? he gave up everything to at least say he is sorry in the way he could. moon should have been furious and she was but she didnt lash out. she understood completely despite not knowing how to tell him. same with suns. same with significant. and i bet that goes for sliver too. they all love each other unconditionally in some manner. even if their ruined and decayed lives slowly being swallowed up for the new civilizations...

media that doesnt touch on dark or potentially taboo topics just don't hit the same. if you want to have reality really hit you in the face and realise you've made the right choices to become better than before no matter what, then dark stories will do that for you. no matter how cute. no matter how stylized. your heart and mind changes in that moment, even if by a little.

keep media literacy alive in rain world <3 (and thank you mods)

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