#like don't get me wrong some of them get close

[seraphicby]

What Else Is Pink?

Nien x Male Reader

1.7k+

You're 18, in your last year of high school.

Nien. She's 22, a college student who's always been cold, snappy, and loves to tease you until you lose it. Since your mom married her dad five years ago, she's always picking on you with her sharp comments. Her new pink hair makes her stand out even more, bold, confident, and always in your face.

Tonight, with your parents away for the weekend, it's just you and her, the house feels different, like something's about to happen.

You're slouched on the living room couch, scrolling through your phone, the TV playing some show you're barely watching.

Nien walks in, her pink hair catching your eyes. She's wearing a loose crop top that shows a bit of her stomach and tight shorts that hug her hips.

She drops onto the couch next to you, "Hey, loser. Still stuck to that phone? no girls chasing after the high school, kid?" she says, her voice teasing as usual.

You roll your eyes, "At least I don't look like I fell into a cotton candy machine," you say, nodding at her bright pink hair. "What's next? pink eyebrows?"

She laughs, leaning closer, "Guess..." she says, her voice low and playful, "Besides my hair, what else is pink?" Her smile turns sly.

You freeze, thrown off by her flirty tone. Nien's always been the mean, teasing step sister, but this feels new, bold, almost risky, like she's pushing you to react.

Your heart beats faster, but you try to act cool, "Your... toes?" you say, but your voice shakes a bit, and she catches it, her grin growing.

"What...? no..." she snort, leaning so close her snort tickles your ear.

"My pussy, idiot. Wet, pink, and clean."

Her words shocked you, your cock instantly stirring in your jeans before you can think. She's never been this before.

"Nien, what the heck?" you say, shifting back,

She doesn't let up. She swings a leg over you, sitting on your lap, her hands on your shoulders. Your phone slips onto the couch, forgotten.

"Don't be such a kid," she teases, her voice soft and daring. "You're 18 now. Can't handle a little fun?"

Her fingers slide down your chest, and you swallow hard, your cock's getting harder.

"Stop it, Nien," you say weak, you're not sure whether to push her away or pull her closer.

She leans in, her lips brushing your ear. "Wanna see how pink I am?" she whispers.

Before you can answer, she kisses you, hard, needy, her lips soft but hungry. Your brain yells that this is wrong, she's your step sister... but your body doesn't listen. You kiss her back, hands grabbing her waist, pulling her closer as the heat takes over. Her tongue meets yours, and you groan, your dick fully hard, pressing against your jeans.

She pulls back, smirking, "Not so shy now, huh?" she says, grinding her hips against you, and you can feel her warmth through her shorts.

"You like that, don't you?"

Your hands slide under her crop top, touching her bare skin, and she gasps as your fingers brush her sides, moving toward her boobs. You push her top up, revealing her bra, pink, like her hair.

"They're pink too..." she says, unhooking it and tossing it aside.

Her bare boobs are perfect, perky, tight, and you stare before leaning in, kissing her neck, sucking softly. "God, Nien..." you mutter, your lips moving to her chest, taking a nipple in your mouth, sucking as she moans.

"Yes, keep going," she says, her voice shaky, her hands in your hair.

She reaches for your jeans, unzipping them, "Let's see your little man," she teases, sliding her hand inside to stroke you through your boxers.

"Damn, you're fucking hard already," she says, smirking.

She pulls your boxers down, your dick springing free, and her hand wraps around it, stroking slowly, "Not bad for a kid," she says.

"Shut up," you groan, your head falling back as she strokes you, her touch driving you crazy.

"Wanna taste me first?" she asks, standing to slip off her shorts and panties, pink and soaked. She straddles you again, higher now, her wet, pink pussy right above your face.

"Go on, lick it," she says, her voice low, "Taste how wet I am."

You pull her down, your tongue finding her slick pussy, licking her clit as she moans loudly. "Fuck, that's good," she gasps, grinding against your mouth, her hands pulling your hair. She tastes sweet, her wetness coating your tongue, and you lick harder, making her hips shake. "Oh, shit, right there," she moans, her voice rough.

She slides down, straddling your lap again, her wet pussy brushing your dick. "You're good with your tongue," she says, grinning, "Now let's see how you fuck."

She grabs your dick, guiding it to her entrance, "You want this pussy, don't you?" she teases, sinking onto you, her tight, wet heat gripping you.

You both moan, and you grab her hips, helping her move as she rides you, slow at first, "God, you're tight," you groan, thrusting up to meet her, the sound of her wet pussy on your dick filling the room.

"Fuck, you so slow," she moves faster, her boobs bouncing with each thrust.

"How?" she asks, her voice breathy.

"Fuck! so fucking good," you grab her butt, squeezing as you fuck her harder, the couch creaking. She leans down, kissing you messily, moaning into your mouth.

"Don't stop, keep fucking me," she gasps, you can feel her pussy tightening inside.

"I'm gonna cum," she moans, her body shaking, her hips grinding faster.

"Me too," you groan, the pressure building.

She cums first, crying out, her pussy squeezing your dick, and you pull out just in time, your cum spilling across her stomach and thighs, warm and messy.

She collapses against you, panting, her pink hair sticking to her sweaty forehead. "Damn," she laughs, "Didn't know you could fuck like that."

You grab her hips, flipping her onto her stomach on the couch in one swift move. She gasps, caught off guard, but laughs softly, pushing her ass up toward you, inviting.

"Fuck, you're bold now," she says, glancing back at you, her pink hair falling messily over her shoulder. "Go on, show me what you've got."

You position yourself behind her, your hands gripping her hips as you line up your cock, already hard again. Her pussy is still wet, glistening, and you slide in slowly, savoring the way she moans, her back arching.

God, yes," she breathes, her voice shaky, "Fuck me like that."

You thrust into her, deeper this time, the angle letting you hit her core, and she pushes back against you, meeting each thrust with a soft whimper.

"Like this?” you ask, your voice low, thrusting harder, the sound of your bodies colliding filling the room. Her ass bounces against you, and you grab a handful, squeezing as you pound into her, "You're so fucking tight, Nien."

"Don't stop," she moans, her hands gripping the couch cushions, her knuckles white, "Harder, come on."

You thrust faster, your balls slapping against her with each move, her moans growing louder, her pink hair swaying with every thrust.

But you want more, something even closer. You pull out, and she whines in protest, looking back at you. "What the hell?" she says, but you're already moving, pulling her up and pushing her toward the wall near the bookshelf.

She stumbles slightly, laughing, but her eyes are dark with want, "Oh, you're getting fancy now," she teases, as you pin her against the wall, her back to you, her hands bracing against it.

"Shut up," you say, grinning, and she laughs again, you lift one of her legs hooking it over your shoulder, "Ohh... nice move," she gasps.

She's taller than you, her body flexible. You stand on your tiptoes, your smaller build straining as you line up your cock with her pussy.

"You're gonna feel this," you say, you're fucking horny right now.

She smirks, "You're just standing on your tiptoes, how can you fuck me like this?" she says, her voice daring.

You don't care about that, you slide thrust hard into her.

"Fuck!!" she moans loudly, her head tipping back against the wall, her pink hair sticking to her sweaty neck.

"Yes, like that," she gasps, her hands gripping your arms as you thrust up into her, your tiptoes barely keeping you steady. Her pussy clenches around you, wet and hot, and you can feel every inch of her, the position making it feel like you're deeper than ever.

"You like that, huh?" you groan, thrusting harder, your hands holding her hips to keep her steady, "God, you're so fucking good."

"Again...," she moans, her voice breaking. "Fuck me harder, don't you dare stop." Her leg on your shoulder trembles, her body arching into you.

"You lean in, kissing her neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. She cries out, her nails digging into your arms, and you can feel her getting close, her pussy tightening with every thrust.

"Shit, Nien, I'm gonna cum," you groan, your balls tightening, the pressure building fast. You thrust a few more times, the sensation overwhelming,

Then you pull out, "Fuck...!" your hand wrapping your cock as you stroke yourself quickly.

She drops to her knees in front of you, ��Give it to me,” looking up with that teasing smirk, her eyes locked on yours.

"Erghh...!" you groan loudly, your cum spilling across her face, dripping over her lips and chin, some catching in her pink hair.

She licks her lips, grinning, and wipes her face with the back of her hand, "Damn, that's a lot," she says breathless.

"Fuck..." you mutter, catching your breath, your legs shaky from standing on your tiptoes. "That was..."

"Insane?" she finishes, laughing softly. "Yeah, you're not half bad, little bro."

Since those intense moments with Nien changed everything.

The cold, teasing step sister you knew morphed into something else, a secret shared in stolen moments.

Ever since that, you and Nien can't keep your hands off each other.

It's like a switch flipped, every day, anytime your parents aren't home, you're at it, on the couch, in her room, against the kitchen counter. Her pink hair bounces as she rides you, her moans filling the house, her teasing now laced with desire.

"Fuck, you're getting good at this," she'll say.

You’ve learned her body, her sounds, the way she cums when you hit just the right spot. It's reckless, dangerous, but the thrill keeps you both coming back.

You know it's wrong, step siblings shouldn't cross this line, but you don't talk about what it means, or if it'll last.

[jinxsfavv]

Hello! Could you write a fic about ellie Williams talking to Joel about how she’s in love with reader while they’re on a patrol, and Ellie gets attacked and can only think of reader as she thinks she’s gonna die but she ends up ok and comes back to reader and it’s a good ending:)

COME BACK TO YOU

Ellie williams x fem!reader

Contents: loser!ellie(ofc), lil bit of nerd!reader, cussing, reader mentioned to have curly hair, one suggestive thought from ellie, not proofread

"She's just so cool. Like. Probably the coolest person I've ever met." Ellie rambles. Joel nods along, half listening, half focusing on their surroundings. "Did you know she knows every single Greek god AND their significance. Like, thats so cool!" "Have you told her any of this?" Joel asks. Ellie talks about you all the time but when you're around, she's so nonchalant(not really she just wants you to think so)

"Well...no but she already knows. I dont need to tell her" she mumbles, looking down at the ground. "You don't think she would like hearing it from you? Considering how close yall are." He says as they approach a building. "Yea. I guess." She wants to tell you. She wants to tell you everything. About how pretty you are, how she loves when the sun hits your curls just right, how badly she wants you to push her down and stick your tounge in her-

"Shit." Her thoughts are cut off as her and Joel hear clickers. "Careful." He warns. She nods as she pulls out her knife. "Sounds like they're coming from both ways. You go that way. Yell if you need help." Joel whispers. She nods walking in the other direction.

Her steps are precise and quiet as she approaches the infected. There are two. Easy. She's dealt with more before. She sneaks up behind one, and plunges the knife in it's throat. It screeches and struggles against her hold. She didnt notice the other one behind her. It grabs onto her, trying to bite. She groans as she tries to get out of its hold.

The one infront of her finally falls limp. She lets it go as she tries to turn around. Her knife falls out of her hand and the clickers grip becomes stronger. She screams and cries and she thinks of....you. She thinks about your smile and the way your nose twitches when you're mad. She thinks about that laugh and those dimples that come out with it. She thinks of you and she uses all her strength and pushes herself out of the clickers grip.

She grabs her gun out of her holster and quickly shoots it in the head. It falls. She gasps. She gasps for air and her hearts beating a hundred miles a minute. Joel comes running around the corner, stopping when he realizes shes already killed them. "You okay kiddo?" He pants. She nods. "Yea." She says quietly.

She doesnt say anything on the way back. Only thinking of you. Once they arrive back, she makes a beeline towards your house. She pounds on the door, her mind racing.

There you are. In all your beauty. Sporting a tank top and some shorts. You look like you had just woken up considering your messy hair and puffy eyes. "Ellie?" She drops her head as her lip trembles. "El whats wrong?" You ask with a concerned voice, stepping closer towards her. You hear her sniffle and your heart breaks.

You love Ellie more than anything. She's always listened to you and been there for you. When you went through your first breakup, when your patrol horse passed away, even when there was a baby spider in your room and you were too afraid to kill it. Seeing her like this hurts you.

"Come on Els." You walk her inside, sitting her down on your couch. You sit next to her and place your hand on her knee. "Talk to me." You plead. She sighs and shifts on the couch. "I just- it was alot of infected. Im fine." She mumbles. You didnt want to push her further. You know she'll talk about it on her own time. "Do you wanna lay down? We can watch a movie." You suggest. She nods. "Yea. That sounds nice."

You two head to your room and look for a movie while Ellie lays down on your bed. You settle on Star Wars. A classic. And one of Ellies favorites. You settle in beside her and pull her close. She rests her head on your shoulder as your arms wraps around her waist.

Maybe one day she'll be able to tell you how much she loves you.

[storiesforallfandoms]

normal ~ frank castle;marvel

word count: 2348

request?: no

description: in which he hasn't experienced normal in a very long time, but she makes it easy to get used to it

pairing: frank castle x female!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of frank's past, somehow made a fluffy punisher fic? didn't mean for it to be this fluffy

masterlist (one, two, three)

It had been a long, long time since Frank Castle knew the word "normal". So long, in fact, that he wasn't sure if his life ever had been "normal". He was sure it never would be again in any case. Everyone knew how he was, what he had done, that he didn't regret any of it. He tried to move on after he got out of jail, but he saw the looks people gave him. The nervous glances, the side eyes, the whispers that followed him. Frank Castle could never be "normal" again.

Until he met you, a pretty waitress at a quiet diner he visited to get away.

Even your coworkers had glanced at him in fear when he walked in. They were debating among themselves about whether or not they should serve him when you walked right up to his table, water jug in hand and a smile on your face. He watched your movements as you filled his glass, then his eyes trained up to your face as you took his order. He was mesmerized by your beauty, and by the fact that you genuinely didn't seem afraid of him. You were treating him as if he were any normal customer.

"Just a coffee," he told you after holding eye contact for some time, just to see if you'd falter.

"You sure?" you asked. He nodded. "Well, I'll leave the menu in case you change your mind."

After you brought him his coffee, one of your coworkers walked up to you and whispered, "Are you crazy?! Do you know who that is?!"

You shook your head.

"He's The Punisher!"

You glanced over at your lone customer. His face did look vaguely familiar, but you hadn't followed the Punisher case as closely as most people in Hell's Kitchen. It was impossible to completely abstain from hearing any information about the trial, but you never knew who the guy was. All you knew was that he had killed bad men, and what was so wrong about that?

You looked back at your coworker and shrugged. "He looks like a man drinking a coffee to me."

Unbeknown to the both of you, Frank heard your entire conversation. He found himself smiling as he took a sip of his coffee.

A few days later, he was back at the diner. He had walked past and saw you through the window. He hadn't been hoping to see you or anything. Total coincidence. But since you were working, he figured he may as well stop in for another coffee.

You looked over as the bell over the door rang. Your smile caught him by surprise yet again, and yet he was smiling back.

"Come for another coffee?" you asked. He nodded. "Well, your booth is open. I'll bring it over."

He sat facing the counter, giving himself a view of you. He watched you pour a mug of coffee, then turn to the nearby fridge and pull a plate of something out. As you got closer, he realized it was a slice of lemon meringue pie.

"Oh, I don't - "

"On me," you cut him off. "Just in case you think the food is bad or something. This should prove it isn't."

He was smiling again. It felt foreign, as did the odd feeling growing in his chest.

The third time he came to the diner, it was almost as if you were waiting for him. You were already pouring him a cup of coffee and had a slice of pie waiting for him. You both locked eyes and shared a smile before he went to his usual booth. You brought his things over and said, "I'm off at 4. Will you wait for me?"

Frank nodded. You smiled at him and went back to work.

For two hours, Frank sat in that booth. You refilled his coffee once, brought him some food that he ordered himself. Your coworkers had grown somewhat used to him by now, but they still gave him looks whenever they passed his booth. He ignored them, focusing only on you.

When you were finished your shift, he paid for his meal and followed you out of the diner. You faced him, pulling on your coat. "Walk me home?"

"Lead the way."

You walked a steady pace, staying side by side. People cleared the path for both of you when they saw you coming - or rather, when they saw Frank coming.

"It's like having my own personal bodyguard," you joked.

Frank's jaw clenched. He had been trying to pretend that part of his life didn't exist when you were around. It was easier inside the walls of the diner where the only people he had seen was your coworkers, but now you were much more public. It was impossible to avoid the stares now.

You noticed Frank's tenseness. You put a hand on his arm, drawing his attention back to you.

"For what it's worth," you said, "I don't think what you did was wrong. You killed bad men who did bad things. What's the difference between that and the bad people the Avengers have killed trying to protect the city?"

"I don't think the Avengers have admitted to liking killing people."

"Not publicly. We could assume all of them like killing unless they come out and say, 'Hey, I hate hurting people and it makes my stomach sick'. But the truth is, to be a hero you have to be at least a little okay with violence. The public just chooses what kind of violence they're okay with."

Frank chuckled, humorlessly. "I'm not a hero."

You shrugged. "I never said you were. I just said you're not a bad person."

Frank found himself disappointed when you finally got to your apartment. He didn't want his time with you to end. Everything just felt right when he was with you. It was a strange feeling, almost wrong for him. Frank Castle didn't feel fuzzy inside because of a woman. He didn't frequent diners just to see said woman, he didn't walk said woman home and wish for time to stop so he could spend more time with her.

Not since Maria.

You turned to him. He kept his face stony, trying not to give anything away.

"Do you have a cell phone?" you asked.

This time, he was humored. "Of course."

"Give me your number."

A week later, Frank was back to your place for your first date. After texting for a few days, you had asked Frank if he wanted to go on a date. Frank had agreed in a heartbeat. For his comfort, you suggested that he come over and you'd make dinner for the two of you. Private, intimate. Frank's heart was beating a little too fast.

What is wrong with me? This is not me.

But what if it could be?

You were dressed in jeans and a blouse when you answered the door. Casual, which Frank was grateful for. He wasn't sure how to dress for a first date at someone's house, so he picked the nicest clothes he had - also a pair of jeans and a plain black t-shirt. He hadn't been stressed about it, though. Frank Castle didn't worry about how he dressed for a date. He was a violent vigilante who had seen the horrors of war. A simple date was nothing. It certainly was not making him nervous.

You brought him to your dining room, where you already had your dinner and some wine set out. You both sat down and started eating. The silence lasted all of a few moments before you started asking Frank about himself. He was hesitant first, not used to opening up about himself, but you were happy to fill the silences he left. The more you opened up, the more Frank's walls fell, and he found himself telling you things about him. Things he hadn't spoken about in a long time. Things that normal people talk about on first dates.

When you finished eating, Frank insisted on helping you clean up. He cleared the dishes off the table and dried them while you washed. He glanced over at you, a small smile on your face as you washed. You were softly humming. Frank wasn't sure if you knew you were doing it, but it was so cute he didn't want to bring it up.

"You know," Frank said once you had finished the dishes. "Dating me isn't going to be easy for you."

You raised an eyebrow at him. "Is that a challenge?"

He chuckled. "No, not like that. I mean, you're trying to date a known violent vigilante that mowed down an entire gang, plus some. Everyone knows who I am, and what I did. They'll know who you're associating with, and they're not going to be too kind to you about it."

You shrugged. "I'm not too worried about it."

"But why?"

"Why?"

"You are the first person I've met who isn't afraid of me, and you don't seem too worried about being connected to me. Why?"

You looked like you were considering your answer for a while. Finally, you said, "I don't think what you did was wrong. Everyone thinks murder is the worst of the worst no matter what the reasoning is, but the truth is that the police in this town are awful. Most of them are paid off by various gangs so that they'll turn a blind eye to all the crime happening. There's a reason vigilantes like Daredevil exist, and why they take care of things. You just do the things that maybe Daredevil should do sometimes - you take care of the problem permanently. I don't think that's a bad thing; I don't think you're a bad person."

That was the first time Frank kissed you.

That was a year ago. Now, Frank got to wake up next to you every morning. He got to go out and work a normal job as a construction worker, and come home to you every night. He got to have dinner with you, watch whatever awful reality show you pulled him into hate watching, then fall asleep next to you.

He had a life he never would've dreamed about after Maria and the kids. But he was so happy. He couldn't remember ever being this happy.

Frank always woke up before you, so he always found himself just watching you for a while. You were always so peaceful, your face smushed into the pillow as you breathed heavily. He never did it for long because it felt weird, but he couldn't help himself. He was grateful to be here, to get to wake up next to you every morning. He was grateful that he got to leave his past behind him and build a new life with someone who saw him as more than just a monster, and loved him for all of his flaws.

One morning, you slowly blinked awake as Frank was looking at you. You smiled softly at him as you stretched out your sleep heavy limbs.

"Watching me sleep, you weirdo?" you asked, your voice still thick with fatigue.

Frank chuckled. "Maybe."

"That's weird."

"Hey, I'm sorry for thinking my girlfriend is beautiful even when she sleeps. Next time I wake up before you, I'll put a pillow over your face so I don't have to look at you."

You giggled and rolled towards him, snuggling your face in Frank's chest. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to him. He kissed the top of your head, taking in the familiar smell of your shampoo that was still lingering after your shower the night before.

"Penny for your thoughts?" you asked.

"I'm just really happy," he admitted.

You smiled to yourself. His confession made your heart warm. You knew how hard things had been for Frank, but you were by his side every step of the way. You supported him through his transition back into normal society when others tried so hard to shun him from it.

"I'm happy you're happy," you said. You moved so that you could kiss him on the cheek, but he quickly turned his head to capture your lips with his. You giggled into the kiss and let him pull you on top of him. "And I love you so much. I hope you know that."

"I do, but I don't mind hearing it again."

You leaned down to kiss Frank. "I love you, Frank Castle."

He smiled at you. "Fuck, how did I ever get so lucky?"

"You walked into my diner and ordered a single coffee," you reminded him.

"Worst fucking coffee of my life." You gasped and hit his arm. Frank laughed, putting his hands up to protect himself from your mock rage. "What? It's true! Honey, the coffee at the diner tastes like it was burnt days ago and you're still serving it. There's a reason I stopped ordering it once we got together."

"So you drank bad coffee just so you'd get to see me?"

"That pie slice you gave me the second time made up for the bad coffee."

You rolled your eyes, although it was still obviously playful. "Well, at least that was good. If you told me my favorite thing on the menu was bad, I may have had to reconsider this entire relationship."

You made the move to get up, but Frank quickly pulled you back down into bed. "Babe, I have to get ready for work!"

"You don't have to go to the diner for another two hours. That's plenty of time to stay in bed."

"I have to make breakfast before I go in."

"You work in a diner, get food there."

You sighed. There was no winning this battle. Just like there had been no winning the day before, or the day before that. So, you settled back down next to Frank, laying your head on his chest and listening to his heartbeat. He ran his hands through your hair.

It was peaceful. It was perfect.

~~~~~~

toss a coin to your witcher!

ko-fi.com/storiesforallfandoms

[sturnioz]

you've been deprived of mechanic!matt for far too long, and when he finally shows up at your place looking a little different than usual, you don't let your brief moment of shock distract you from how badly you need him.

you haven’t seen matt in almost two weeks. not even a simple facetime call had happened in the time you’ve been apart. 

he’d been so busy with work, fixing up cars in and out of town that there was no time for him to take a break and get in touch with you. you’ve tried to do it yourself—sending a few texts and voice memos to fill him in on your day, but as you expected, you were met with radio silence. 

you weren’t mad, not at all. 

you completely understand how busy matt can get during certain work shifts—even you have your own moments of being busy with university—so you were prepared for moments like this to come… kind of. 

you really missed him.  

it’s embarrassing to admit how many sleepless nights you’ve had with him in your mind, thinking about his tongue on you, tasting you, fingers spreading your pussy apart before sinking deep inside your heat and curling them in ways to make your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

his name has spilled from your lips countless of times with your hand shoved into your damp panties, trying to mimic his familiar motions and rubbing your clit against your palm until you come undone—it still doesn’t feel right. 

still doesn’t feel like him. 

you’re a miserable, grouchy, and sexually frustrated wreck. it’s starting to weigh on you, too. your attitude is way off, you can barely concentrate in and out of classes, hanging out with friends isn’t as fun anymore, and you’re getting into arguments with your parents over things that aren’t even worth arguing over. 

they’ve questioned you about this more than once, tugging you aside separately and begging you to tell them what’s wrong. you come up with an easy lie to get them off your back. it’s not like you can be honest and tell them that you’re so dick deprived that you’re seconds away from having a full-blown meltdown.

dramatic, you know, but it’s the truth.

you’re not sure how long you can hold off for until you officially lose your mind, and you feel it creeping up onto you as you sit cross-legged on your living-room couch back at your own place, pressing the heel of your foot between your legs to get some friction as you watch some raunchy movie on your TV just to relieve that ache. 

but the sounds of keys twisting in your front door jingles in your ears, the click of the unlock making you sit up, and the hairs stand on the back of your neck as fully accept the fact that death himself as at your doorstep ready to take you away until it swings open—and there he is.

yet you don’t move.

you’re frozen, your eyes wide and mouth dry as matt steps through the threshold, closing the door shut behind him. his hair has grown out since you last saw him, messy and unkempt, flicked and curled at the back of his head that’s unable to be concealed by his hat. 

but that’s not what you’re looking at, no. 

you’re looking at his facial hair—a scruffy stubble type look that has your fingers gripping the plush cushions beneath you. you’ve never been granted the opportunity to see him with facial hair before as he’s always the type to shave it off before it even starts growing properly, and now you’re starting to understand why.

because it makes you fucking feral.

you’re off the couch and throwing yourself at him before he has the chance to greet you, the words left forgotten on the tip of his tongue as yours forces his way into his mouth, devouring him like a starved animal—you are one. 

you can feel the stubble scratch against your own cheeks, and the most pathetic mewl escapes past your lips, swallowed by his own as he kisses you with so much vigour that you don’t realise he’s been pushing you this entire time until the backs of your knees bump against the couch, causing you to slump down with him following behind.

“you missed me that much?” he asks you as he breaks the kiss, mouthing across your cheek and jawline before finding the perfect spot on your neck to nip down. you inhale sharply, goosebumps rising to your skin. “wasn’t gone that long, sweetheart.” 

“two weeks,” you remind him, panting heavily, back arching to press your chest to his. you’re not wearing a bra, so your stiff nipples rub against the fabric of your flimsy shirt. “two weeks you’ve been gone—that’s long enough.” 

“did you miss me?” he asks you again as if he’s waiting for you to confess, and you nod in response. matt lifts his face from your neck to look at you, his tongue lathering across his bottom lip to wet it. “i missed you too.”

“you grew a beard.” you point out the obvious, your gaze focused on the hairs scattered across his jawline, cheekbones and upper lip. you reach out to touch it, feeling the scratchy surface beneath your hand. 

matt hums, “didn’t get much time to shave, y’know. been busy.” he turns his head to kiss your palm once, twice. “d’you like it?” 

“too much,” you’re quick with your answer, not even ashamed. “i want to feel it.”

“you want to feel it…” he repeats your words with a grin, leaning to press another kiss to your neck before he works his way down over your collarbones and chest.

you wish he’d just rip off your shirt so you can feel him on your skin too, but you’re too greedy right now, and you’re too impatient to wait for him to reach the spot you’ve been needing him the most. 

he’s making quick work of your shorts, pulling the silk material over your thighs to give him access to your panties—the fabric soaked and sticky already.

you’re not ashamed of that either, and you make it known by spreading your legs apart further, and the corner of his mouth twitches upwards into a smirk as he leans in, lips sealing over your clit over the material.

the cry that leaves you is pretty pitiful, the heat of his mouth alone bringing you so much more than what your own fingers have been doing these past two weeks. nothing will ever compare to him, that much is obvious. 

but you need more. 

you can’t stand having any piece of fabric in the way to feel what you’ve been so deserving of, and you’re pushing matt back to quickly get rid of your panties—movements clumsily and erratic as you try to shove them down all while keeping matt firm between your legs, scared he’ll disappear for another week if you let him move too far away from you. 

he’s laughing at you, but you don’t care, not when you present yourself to him again and watch as he licks his lips, pulls off his hat, and runs his fingers through his tousled hair before latching his mouth to your cunt, wiggling the wet muscle of his tongue between your folds to lick and taste your arousal.

your head hangs back over the arm of the couch, lips parted in an ‘o’, a loud, whiny moan ripping from your throat as your hand grabs the back of his head, pushing him further against you—ensuring that he stays exactly where you need him. 

his beard scratches against your inner thighs as he devours you, the coarse hairs on his face sending tingles down your spine, heightening every sensation as his name spills from your lips in short gasps. you can feel every individual bristle on your skin, it’s a complete contrast to the smoothness of his lips and tongue as he works you.

matt alternates between kisses, licks and suckles, groaning softly against your pussy as he slurps. it’s messy and loud, and your hips rock up into his mouth, grinding yourself on his face. his nose rubs your clit as his tongue laps at your entrance, and your thighs clamp around his head at the delicious friction, feigning for more.

his hands slip under the backs of your thighs to lock you down with his arms, his fingers digging into the plush flesh to keep you held open for him—like you’d even dare to close your legs and stop him from tasting you.

you arch your back, toes curled, panting harshly as the knot in your stomach tightens, your orgasm crawling up on you so quickly—much quicker than what you’ve been trying to bring to yourself before. it feels good, too good, and your hip movements speed up, fucking yourself on his tongue as he groans and curses beneath his breath between jumbled praises that you can hardly make coherent. 

“keep going,” you whine, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your body tenses up. “don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop—m’so close—fuck—”

you’re cumming hard on his face, and he moans loudly, his tongue lapping you up to help ride you through your orgasm, keeping his head tucked between your thighs until you physically push him away with your hand, squealing as he gives one final lick to your clit.

he laughs softly, his stubble and lips glistening with your juices as he peers up at you with a lazy grin. you’re boneless and breathless beneath him, limbs weak, feeling like you’re on cloud nine after experiencing what you’ve been desperate for. 

"y’good?” he asks you, and all you can do is nod your head in response, too preoccupied in trying to regulate your breathing. he rubs your thighs, pinching gently and massaging the skin as he shuffles to sit up on his knees. “startin’ to think you missed my tongue more than you missed me, sweetheart.”

©STURNIOZ 𐔌 . all rights reserved.

[chara-cat5]

lads isekai au ch 12

reader is gender neutral, warning: swearing, mdni

masterlist

first 1

previous 11

next 13

(q/a for any confused readers!!)

"you're not miss bodyguard."

you fidgeted your hands under rafayel's gaze, standing in the door to his studio while he sat perched on a ladder.

'why did i agree to this?'

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

"damn it."

both your and caleb's gazes snapped to mia, her soft curse directed at her phone as she glared at it.

"what is it, pipsqueak? something wrong?"

she looked up, a slight nervousness in her eyes. she turned off her phone, putting it down face down.

"no, it's nothing. a friend just needed something..."

"a friend, huh?"

you don't know if caleb had talked to her about sylus, but from his passive aggressive tone, you guessed he was assuming that is who she meant. you really shouldn't get involved with this...

"is it tara? i can take care of it. just text me the address."

the two glanced over to you, but you forced your gaze to stay on your breakfast, chewing casually.

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

and thats how you ended up here. a pouty fish climbing down his ladder, already complaining.

"she said she was coming over, but she lied and sent someone else instead. and here i was, excited to finally get to see her. she's been ignoring me for aaaaaages now."

you bit back an annoyed huff, shifting your feet.

"she just had a few things she needed to do. i can help you with whatever you need though."

he huffed, moving through the studio. without much else to do, you followed him.

"well, i wanted time with miss mia today... but i guess we can do some errands without her."

he made it to what looked like a bedroom, moving right to the connecting bathroom. you stayed in the bedroom part, moving to the large window. you looked out past his wispy curtains at the beach below.

"what kind of errands are we talking? grocery shopping?"

"pah-leese. we're going to a market, cutie. i hope you wore walking shoes."

you glanced at the door to the bathroom, humming softly. a farmers market actually sounded pretty fun, but with rafayel? you'd probably just end up carrying his bags.

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

the market place was a little crowded, other customers milling around, chatting among themselves. this had defiantly been a date idea meant for rafayel and mia to experience, plenty of other couples happily weaving among tables. you followed behind rafayel, keeping an eye on him while also browsing yourself. you weren't sure what he was here for exactly, but farmers markets were always fun so why not relax a little? you paused at one shop, looking at the delicious loaves of bread. you picked up a loaf of sourdough, taking note of the little heart cut into the top.

"spot something you want, cutie?"

you glanced up, meeting pink-blue eyes over you shoulder. he looked over the different loaves, picking up the one in your hand.

"we'll take this one."

you watched them exchange money, huffing softly as he took the bag and started walking again.

"i was just looking. you didn't have to get it."

"yeah, but you wanted it. so i did."

you scrunched up your face, following along. he stopped every so often, buying a few things. he didn't actually hand you the bags, fine with carrying what he bought. he did give you the bread, but that's because he bought it for you. when asked why, he dodged the question, just telling you to share it with mia. the two of you took a break halfway through, stopping in the shade while he organized his bags. you caught sight of a table selling meat skewers and you bought two. one with chicken and one with shrimp.

'rafayel likes seafood, right?'

walking back over, you hold the shrimp one out to him.

"here you go. snack time."

he blinked at it before taking it from you, tilting his head at it. you just ate your own, happily chomping down. he took a bite, watching you closely.

"... were they out of chicken?"

you glanced up, mid-bite, surprised by his question. you slowly lowered your skewer, glancing between his gaze and his skewer.

"do you... not like shrimp?"

he hummed, taking another bite, looking away casually.

"no i do. i was just wondering why you got me a different type."

shit. you hadn't thought it through when you bought them, only thinking about getting him something he'd like. excuse excuse excuse- ah!

you padded closer, drawing his gaze. before he could relax, you bit the next shrimp on the stick. he blinked at you as you chewed, lips parting slightly.

"hey! thats mine!"

you let out a laugh, holding out your own skewer.

"you can try mine too. sorry, i just wanted to give the different types a taste."

he hummed, hesitantly bitting into a piece of chicken. he chewed with a skeptical look, narrowing his eyes.

"how's it taste? it's good right? love me some greasy food!"

you took another bite, glad to be able to distract him for even a moment.

"it's good. thanks for getting me one."

you gave him a smile, nodding happily.

"no problem!"

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

after your time at the farmers market, you returned to his studio, helping him put up his purchases. you put the food in the kitchen and a basket he had insisted on getting in the middle of the counter.

"do you think i bought too much?"

you hummed softly, glancing in his direction.

"i wouldn't say you got too much, no. as long as you eat all the food, you aren't being wasteful. it should probably help you eat more constantly anyway. i know how artists like you get sucked into their work."

you went back to organizing his fridge, not noticing the elongated pause. when you did notice the silence and closed the door, you were met with a cheshire cat smile.

"an artist like me, hmm? and just what does that mean cutie?"

you blinked at him. geez- how many times have you fucked up with revealing too much? first sylus, then caleb (from him overhearing), then rafayel. twice today!

"i-... i just know how artists are. i had a friend a while back and had to force her to eat and drink water..."

he watched you for a moment longer before stepping around you, towards his bedroom.

"alrighty. well, i have a bath to take so you can go now. tell mia i expect something extra for skipping out today."

you watched him go, feeling like that was too easy.

'not the time to look a gift horse in the mouth, time to go.'

.

.

affinity l̶e̶v̴e̵l̸ [19]

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taglist: @sleepisfortheweakpooh @plzdonutpercieveme @young-adult-summer @mentaltrouble2201 @noxus123 @asakiyu @leftpoetrymoon @hon3yydew @anemobabygirl @clandestienly @crimsonrubie @beaconsxd @yuurisfavblog @cutiesgaloree @udejoenrlddo @mephisto-with-a-knife @poptrim @rhoswen-drake @szafficat

hello!!

don't know if this one seems too short, the notes app was starting to go slow on the page, but that might be because last chapter was too long, dunno. i do in twos on each 'note' and after a certain word count, it gets choppy.

anyway, raf has returned! love a little sassy fishy. got work today, so i'll probably only get one chapter today and one chapter tomorrow, we'll see.

thank you for reading!!

-chara <3

[patri56001]

Another fic about Tim Drake, this time is with Talia Al Ghul.

In my head Tim is gender fluid (pronouns? YES) and the kind of feminist that accepts women's rights and women's wrongs. He loves Talia's style and vibe, he doesn't get the hate Dick has for her nor why she loves Bruce so much (for Tim, Bruce is just a guy, he's Batman, but still just a guy). He is a little bitter that the only Al Ghul he genuinely likes and respects doesn't like him at all. All bc Ra's is obsessed with him and Damian hates him.

So after one too many rants from both Ra's and Damian, Talia is so fucking done that she kidnapped Tim with the intention of killing him. And while she is mid rant about why she has to kill him, to solidify Damian's place as heir of the Al Ghul family and Wayne family; Tim, who only had like 3 hours of sleep in the last 4 days, just snaps at her.

"FOR FUCKS SAKE! I DON'T WANT TO BE RAS HEIR, AND I'M ONLY CEO OF WE BC HE WAS GOING TO DESTROY IT AND BRUCE HASN'T TAKEN IT BACK! I DON'T WANT YOUR CRUSTY OLD AS A FART FATHER'S ATTENTION NOR LEGACY. AND I BARELY WANTED TO BE ADOPTED BY BRUCE IN THE FIRST PLACE, THE ONLY ONES WHO HAS A PROBLEM WITH ME ARE YOU AND DAMIAN FFS GET A FUCKING GRIP IF I HAD A SAY YOU'D HAVE THE LEAGUE OF ASSASSINS ALREADY BUT YOUR CRUSTY CREEP OLD AS SHIT DAD IS TOO MUCH OF A MISOGYNISTIC FUCKER TO DO SO" And Talia is just stunned bc she was under the impression that Tim was playing games with the family and tells him as much.

"No Talia, I'm not playing games, I wanted to be a photographer when I grew up, not a CEO listening to half-witted middle age fuckers who think that I need to listen to them bc they are older than me. ALSO I'VE BEEN EMANCIPATED FOR 3 YEARS." Tim says angry "And by the way, why the fuck are so hung up on Bruce's ass??? He is just a guy, you are Talia Al Ghul, you are one of the best fighters on earth, and you are hung up on a guy in a bat costume with untreated mental issues??? Have some self respect"

Talia opens and closes her mouth trying to defend herself but can't. "Beloved is very.... Smart and charming man..." She says weakly.

"So is Pedro Pascal, more handsome too" Tim deadpan. "Can I go now? I have a meeting at 9:30 tomorrow and I still have to patrol tonight "

"Child you have dark circles the size of Mount Everest, you need rest... Now I... Apologies for the misunderstanding, it was wrong to assume your intentions. But I'm under the impression that Beloved won't be too pleased if you don't rest tonight."

Tim rolls his eyes "You don't have to compensate for your assumptions just bc you were wrong about them, you don't have to fake to care about me for Bruce's sake either, as for him, he is too busy to notice right now, given that your brat is currently trying to adopt a litter of puppies."

Talia frowns at that, she knows Damian's fondness of animals but doesn't he have close to 10 pets already? She lets Tim go and they part ways. But something is bugging her... In her surveillance of Tim, he looked so tired and skinny, barely drinking water, only eating when needed to survive and drink an ungodly amount of energy drinks... She starts to feel something in her stomach, like when she saw Jason after the pit... Then it clicked... And just accept that Tim is her son now. She stops mid way home, sends a message to her father that she is going on a personal mission to fix some wrong doings. Ra's doesn't ask many questions, none at all. The next thing she knows, is that she is at Tim's 'nest' and she is sending for cleaners and food, Tim returns to find her chilling in his living room like nothing is abnormal.

"What the hell are you doing in my house?"

"Language, Timothy, I'm simply here to get some things right and let you know about our new relationship development."

"Oh ?? Our new what??"

"I'm here as a courtesy to tell you that I have adopted you." Talia says it's like an obvious development.

"I beg your finest pardon" Tim stares with wide eyes, "Talia you can't - wha- why?!"

"My dear child, we'll talk more once you have eaten, taken a shower and slept for at least 8 hours"

And he is too shocked and tired to question it so he just goes along with whatever she says, probably thinks it's an hallucination. He sleeps for like 10 hours, wakes up to find her making him breakfast, and they talk, Tim is still a little shocked and weary of her bc of the sudden change of heart. But she stayed with him for like a week, and they exchanged phone numbers, and emails, and he just rocks with it? Listen, he is a mom's kid through and through, he gets to have two badass moms and he ain't complaining about it. Of course he tells the rest of the core four and Cass, so whenever she comes to visit they don't freak out.

Slowly but surely, Talia reprimands Damian for his hate towards Timothy, "he is your older brother, Habibi" and Dami is confused but that's his mother so he tries.

The most confused is Ra's, bc "what do you mean I cannot kidnap the Detective, Talia?"

"Father, he has an important gathering with his friends, it is best to let him be."

"How do you know that?!"

"Because he is my child? And we talk, now leave him alone."

Ra's is just dumbfounded, "what do you mean he is your child?? Since when-?"

"Honestly father, since like 5 months ago. Haven't you seen the paperwork stating that he is now my child? Like Jason and Damian." Talia raises an eyebrow and leaves to call her new son.

And Ra's is just left there processing the new information. Queue them going to Gotham to visit the bat family. Everyone is panicking bc they don't visit unless they have something dangerous going on. But Tim is just chilling in a corner waiting for the chaos to arrive. Talia and Ra's, arrived at the manor, everyone is greeting them, Talia hugs Damian and Jason, then turns around towards Tim-

"Oh my sweet child, you look far better than the last time I visited" and hugs Tim tightly and starts checking him for injuries.

"Mother, you look beautiful as always- Mom, please last time you visited I had a stab wound." Tim says casually.

"And two hours of sleep, plus a couple of bruised ribs." Talia frowns but sees Tim is fine. Everyone is staring at them like

??? What is happening???

"Oh right, I forgot to mention that Talia adopted me five months ago, and I guess Ras finding out it's the reason for the visit, right, Mom?" Tim says innocently still hugging Talia and looking smug at Damian, who is having a small stroke.

Ra's is trying to get his attention, "Welcome to the family-"

"Talia might be my mom but I refuse to be called your grandchild, my only grandfather is Alfred." Tim says coldly.

"But-"

"Father, don't embarrass yourself, what Tim says is final!" Talia stared at him, challenging him to say anything at all. After all, after a few conversations with Tim, she has started to respect herself more and would not tolerate her father's shit anymore.

[cece693]

inhuman reader who can't control their power, and chooses to distance or isolating from people so no one gets hurt due to their uncontrollable power. but banner always look out for them to get comfort or give them an advice since he had the same problem. (platonic, like father figure for reader or something. i love your story btw)

YOU'RE A MONSTER, BUT YOU'RE TRYING

pairing: platonic! bruce banner x gender neutral reader

The cabin sits at the edge of the world.

Mountains roll like the spines of sleeping beasts beyond the trees, and the lake out front is glass until the wind touches it. You like it here. It’s far from people. Far from cities. Far from the tightness in your chest that comes whenever someone gets too close and you imagine the worst again—that the power locked inside you might slip.

You know how easy it would be. Just a breath. A panic. A bad dream. The wrong emotion. So you live alone.

Almost.

Bruce doesn’t knock when he visits anymore. He just pushes the screen door open like he belongs, takes one look around the cabin you never quite finish furnishing, and sets the grocery bag down on the counter like a ritual.

“Still eating like a medieval monk, I see,” he murmurs, peering into your nearly empty fridge. He doesn’t say it like a joke. Just a fact, soft and dry and familiar.

You sit in the sunlit corner by the window while he starts a kettle, leaning back in the chair like your spine’s made of brittle glass.

“You know, it took me years to stop counting the days since my last ‘incident,’” he continues, not turning around. “Like it was a prison sentence. Day 47 without transforming. Day 112. Day 304. I kept expecting the green guy to come crashing back through.”

You glance at your hands. They’re steady right now. Calm. Human-looking.

“Do you still count?”

“No,” Bruce says gently. “But I remember how it felt.”

After a while, he sits down across from you, nursing the chipped mug he always uses when he visits. Silence befalls the two of you, Bruce sipping his tea and you watching the steam curl into the air. Neither of you rushes to fill the quiet. That’s an unspoken rule—you don’t need to speak unless the silence becomes too heavy to bear. And even then, Bruce never demands you carry more than you can.

You trace your thumb along the arm of the chair, rough and scarred like your own memory. Then, softly: “I almost killed someone. Before I came here.”

He nods.

“I wanted to die after,” you add.

He nods again.

“But I didn’t.”

“No. You didn’t.”

You look up. His eyes are kind in that haunted, tired way only someone with blood on their hands can manage. Someone who’s forgiven everyone but himself. “You think it ever gets better?”

Bruce sips his tea before answering. “It gets different. Not always easier. But you get to learn the shape of it. The rhythm. You’ll know when the wind’s changing. When it’s time to leave a room. When it’s okay to stay.”

Your throat tightens, but you don't cry. Not in front of him. That’s another unspoken rule between the two of you. He brings comfort, but you carry your own weight. Bruce just watches you, like he’s measuring how deep you’re sinking and how best to pull you back.

You speak again, barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to be around people anymore. I don’t know how to stop thinking of myself as dangerous.”

“You are dangerous,” he says. “So am I, but that’s not a flaw. That’s just a fact. But you also care. And that’s why you’re out here instead of pretending nothing happened.”

Bruce rises with a groan and opens a window. The pine-scented air spills into the cabin, fresh and grounding. “I’ll stay the night,” he says casually. “There’s some new sensor tech I brought up. Figured we could set it up tomorrow. Might help you track the fluctuations before they hit.”

You nod. That’s how he offers love—through tools and science and tea and the quiet reminder that you aren’t a monster for being afraid of yourself. That you're trying.

"Okay."

[burrythebusy]

Hey bestie can you talk about how much damage the word "repulsed" has done 😔✌️

Man can I ever.

Firstly, I'm gonna give some people the benefit of the doubt in saying that there were honest and lovely hrkg fans who were put off by chapter 28 due to the thought that, oh no, Hirano really is very uncomfortable with close physical contact, and Kagiura hugged him twice and pushed that boundary, and we know he values physical contact, how can they be in a relationship if this is the case blah blah blah. But it is unfortunately also very reductive to take that from chapter 20, or 28, and onward. And of course, there are the people who aren't reading it in good faith at all, but why they reacted the way they did is self-explanatory: they think Hirano is uncomfortable overall with Kagiura, that he's been being pushed and pulled unwillingly, that Kagiura is, for lack of better word, abusive, etc.

Now, my biggest issue with both of these scenarios boils down to the same thing, which is the lack of understanding context and subtext, or just generally not being understanding of the characters individually, their motivations, their biases, what leads them to think what, and then taking what they say or do at face value. Sensei has written her characters to say things that make no sense all the time, or that is obviously not how they truly feel, etc, so it baffles me when people pretend this isn't the case when it comes to hirakagi, i truly don't get it. I can name very few, if any, pieces of media where the author didn't deliberately show us things or imply things that weren't explicitly said. While the fandom can be wrong about their interpretations of these implications, I think it's important to at least think about what they could be regardless.

And what kills me is that, I can guarantee a good chunk of the people entirely put off from hirakagi from the past, what, two chapters, are people who do not care. These are people that read the dialogues and the monologues and look at what they're doing and don't think any deeper than that, or if they do, it's not to look into the characters at all, they skip over that and head straight for societal context, which would be fine if they, you know, put the character first??? And they also decide to put this character into said societal context dictated by how they view who they are, their identity, their inclinations, and they use their surface level interpretations to confirm or deny what they already decided to think.

This is why when people read that Hirano was "repulsed" by the hug, they take it to be so freaking literal. For some, this proves their Hirano ace hcs as they related to him. For others, it proves Hirano doesn't or "can't" love Kagiura back in the same way. And then the ones who scream "WAHHH KAGIURA DID SOMETHING HIRANO WAS UNCOMFY WITH WAHHH". I have never in my life seen people act so morally superior over a hug. GENUINELY. The word used being "repulsed" was like the water in the desert for people that needed something to confirm what they already think about hrkg, or hirano or kagiura individually, conclusions they came to by not giving a fuck about their actual characters. Characterization. Subtext. What is implied. etc.

Everyone in the world is biased to some degree about many things, so it's not like I'm saying you have to read without that. You just have to be deliberate enough to recognize it and look a little deeper, listen to other perspectives, and, you know, read and comprehend the story. Sensei's characters are all very complex, imo, even side characters. None of them are "simple", all are pretty damn dimensional and well-rounded, so to read 28 and come out of it with the world repulsed in your hands says more about you than anything else, honestly. I thought the same thing about 30; reading chapter 30 and coming out of it with just complaints about the kiss is just as annoying. It's how I know the people that yell the most about the unhealthy, one-sided, terrible dynamic between hrkg don't care to read anything beyond the things they can point to and go "See! There!"

Facts: Hirano is an unreliable narrator. I know, SHOCKING right. Like, Hirano, the guy that has BEEEN saying he wants to be with Kagiura more than anything (in more ways than one), saying his feelings for Kagiura aren't enough, or love. Saying he doesn't feel his heart race when touched so "I can't love him, duh." Nevermind the fact that he is so comfortable with Kagiura that he is willing to try things out just for his sake, even though he would straight up say no if he didn't want to, or if it were anyone else. Nevermind the fact that physical contact has always been normal between them, hence why it feels normal. Nevermind that fact that despite this, he feels happy to be close with Kagiura, he loses track of time, he extends the time they get to touch, but much of his gripes don't come from how he feels personally about the physical touch, it's what Kagiura is doing/showing him...

Facts: Kagiura is constantly contradicting himself. He has this hangup about how physical touching should be with someone you love, possibly brought about by heteronormativity and the standard he has set due to others (past relationship) and his parents (what he wants out of a marriage). It has to be like this and that and this and that. Except everyone had been clocking how weird he was with Hirano since... forever. Wow Hirano is really close to his roommate and gets defensive of him in the LIGHT NOVEL. Kagiura misses Hirano and thinks the dorm is empty without him in the LIGHT NOVEL. Hirano's memories of receiving those damn earrings is all bright and sparkly and beautiful in the LIGHT NOVEL. They have been loving on each other for a long ass time, and they have been touching normally, though more closely than they do with anyone else. Kagiura has clung to him and grabbed his wrist and his shirt and all that shit. So the only difference is that Kagiura is just overwhelmed by his own feelings and desires that he thinks, at this point, "I can't touch Hirano in any other way" because he thinks he'll be pushing a boundary (oh whats this? Kagiura is very aware of boundaries? DUMBASS OF COURSE HE IS).

"I feel one way that Hirano doesn't feel. If I touch him, someone that loves him and feels a certain kind of desire for him, he will be uncomfortable because he doesn't feel that way about me. So my solution is to start limiting how I touch him in a controlled environment with an agreement, in which he understands that the connotation is meant to be romantic, he'll understand how I feel without me being too much or overwhelming him!" Kagiura Akira, you are 16 fucking years old thinking that you can't touch your, forget crush, BEST FRIEND in a normal way because you think your feelings are too much. That's not normal man. And what makes it worse is that by limiting himself, Hirano doesn't fully understand how Kagiura's desire functions ("If me touching you makes you happy, look happy when I do it.")

For a little analogy, let's say you have a friend that makes you your favorite food when you're hungry. And not just hungry, but you're incredibly hungry, ravenous even. They make you your fav food and put it in front of you and is like "Dig in!" and you going "nah I'm good" and just stare at it. Then the friend that made it for you is confused because they know it's your favorite, they're letting you eat it, but you just won't. And one day they make it again for you and then you go, "How about I eat it in little bites" and they go yeah sure, so you take tiny bits off it. And they're confused again because it looks like you don't want it even if you keep saying you do. Now, similarly, if you did immediately eat it, you didn't have to go all in; you could've taken your time. You could've took a break for a drink, coulda had a conversation over the meal. But since you deprived yourself on purpose, time and time again, now you are literally starving and one day, you might take too big a piece, too big a bite, out of nowhere, out of desperation. It's like that.

Lowkey this analogy sucks but the point is that Kagiura deprived himself of even touching Hirano regularly in a normal way, and is forcing himself to only do it "like lovers" for ten seconds a day. Not only is it painful for him because he feelings are so full with no outlet, because he's holding himself back, Hirano sees him about to burst and sees this pain and is like wtf. I thought you liked this. For a while he was afraid Kagiura was forcing himself to do it, like he didn't actually like doing it because Kagiura is making himself go hungry on purpose, making himself take tiny bites on purpose like it hurts and it does, and then of course, one day, the flood gates will open. His hunger will get the best of him. And I can't believe that, after all this time, after thousands of years of literature, we got to a point where the overflow of his feelings leading to a hug pissed people off. People's reactions to chapter 20 actually killed me. I understand if you don't like hugs/they make you uncomfortable, I too am not big on hugs unless I'm close to the person. BUT, in the context of this story, you cannot sit here and tell me that was some cardinal sin committed by a guy i love with his best friend. Like, really. A hug? And then of course, 28, when he asks for it, and his hand got a little low and Hirano flinched, again, mfs go WAHHH OH MY GOD HE TOUCHED HIM WHERE HE WAS UNCOMFORTABLE WAHHH he didn't even do it on purpose. And of course, we arrive at the "repulsed" descriptor. Again, diction matters. Even if repulsed isn't an inaccurate translation, it indeed changes how people interpret the scene. Repulsed sounds and feels worse than discomfort or even dislike. "I am repulsed by strawberries" isn't the same connotation as "I dislike strawberries" or "strawberries make me uncomfortable".

Not to mention Kagiura quickly changed how he was hugging him because he recognized Hirano flinched. Not to mention Hirano did sink into the hug. Not to mention that I think there are many reasons Hirano reacted the way he did that wasn't "Hirano doesn't and will never like to be touched/hugged". I think it's somewhat to do with a vulnerability thing, and also a "No one has ever touched my lower back so it surprised me" thing (because the translator initially described his discomfort as something not necessarily "negative" idk how true that is though). Hirano was fine initiating touching because of control, but also because I think there's a certain level of vulnerability he is not used to. Being in someone's arms is one of them. And it was an awkward ass hug too like it wasn't even normal. Again with Kagiura and his weird "lovers do this like this" where do you get these ideas from man. Like I know your parents never hug each other like this. Or maybe they do idk. Anyway.

And then of course, people haven't let that go. Chaper 29 people were acting like Hirano had that whole convo with Ichinose and Kagiura after for no reason. Suddenly the sky imagery and "that's not the only way to express your love for someone" and "I want to be with you more than anyone else in the world, that's what love means to me" don't mean shit. Acting like Hirano hasn't been feeling that all this time. Acting like hirano hasn't been feeling his heart beat faster without any prompting from Kagiura because his heart is realizing Kagiura is expressing love for just being with him, around him, being cherished by yours truly. None of that means anything for some reason because last chapter Kagiura hugged him and Hirano felt off for a split second. Okay.

Now it's chapter 30 and there were like 40 pages prior to the last three in which we are seeing Hirano and Kagiura be in love, be youthful, be true to each other, we see just how much Kagiura pays attention to Hirano and how he is, how much he treasures that about him, how much he looks up to him and recognizes his hard work, and then we see Hirano be an unreliable narrator, downplaying his own feelings because he doesn't want to hurt Kagiura by giving him "expectations", not giving his feelings any credit at all because he, like Kagiura, doesn't want to hurt the person he loves. Kagiura gets overwhelmed by the hunger and kisses him WAHHH CALL THE FUCKING FBI HE'S A SEX OFFENDER holy shit yall. Is this your first BL? No no, is this your first story? Ever? Have you ever read words on a page? Are you three years old?? Like you cannot be fucking real. Do I even have to say anything else??

So yeah. Repulsed did a number on people's psyche. I think I went off on a tangent in the middle of that butttt you get the picture.

[lumina-649]

Romance Staring at Mira <3

(original video by @sonny_angel_child on TikTok---link to og vid is provided)

For me, this aspect of the scene was really interesting because there's so much to potentially theorize about Romance as a character. And if anything, it makes me all the more sadder we didn't get much backstory or personalization with the Saja Boys.

I for one genuinely believe that Romance is interested in Mira (durr). Now, whether that interest is surface level or if he genuinely wants to get to know her---that remains unanswered for me for the following reasons.

Personally, I think he is truly infatuated with Mira on account of the provided clip showcasing that he doesn't take his eyes off of her for like 99.9% of the scene, he keeps his hand on her chair, and he even gets unnecessarily close to her face when she, him, and Abby argue over who got to sign the fan's cast.

Regardless of his intent, he most certainly has a deep interest in Mira (at least I think he does). There's no way you legit look at someone the whole dang time you're at an event---he's not even paying attention to the fans that much. The only time he does so in the actual clip was when he briefly looked at another person before INSTANTLY shifting his eyes back to Mira, along with him looking happy to receive a bouquet that was thrown at him (which was really cute btw, lol).

I could very well understand if someone were to be doubtful of this ship and argue it could just be Romance being himself (given the boy's literal name). He very well could only be acting this way simply because she happened to be the girl closest to him. But I honestly think he's drawn to Mira's attitude and likes getting a rise out of her.

"Oh, he only stares at her because they're enemies and stuff---"

Okay but the rule is, "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer," and not "Stare at your enemies like they're your future spouse." Sure, one could also argue that Abby might've had some interest in Mira since he looked at her in a similar format---but I think Romance is more likely the one to have more feelings for Mira based on the fact he literally stares at her THE WHOLE TIME.

I for one would find it rather hard to believe that Romance

Hence why while I understand the appeal, I don't really ship Miromabby. I just don't think I saw Abby show much interest in Mira since he was just giving autographs of his abs, whereas Romance actively had his attention on her throughout the majority of the signing.

Who knows? Maybe I could be stretching or wrong on somethings, but I think the potentiality of Romance having a crush on Mira is lowkey cute---especially since there's so much material and/or interesting details that could come out of that.

Like maybe he likes her because she doesn't grovel for his looks or something. I don't know, but the potential is there and I love it. I think they could be really cute should any future media of them involve the two of them interacting.

Heck, even if it was purely on a platonic level, I could see that also working well because maybe the story could be that Romance (depending on his backstory--which there have been a lot of amazing theories for) learns that he doesn't always have to resort to romantic tactics to have someone care about him---he can just have someone truly care at all.

Anyways, I'm rambling. I've just been obsessed with KPDH ever since watching the movie two days ago.

[just-cheyy]

(I do not own this image^)

I had this cute idea and really wanted to share this fanfic to the world because honestly I found comfort from this and i bet others will too

I would like to say I haven't actually realized everyone in the game yet and don't know the ending that comes with that so be aware.

This is semi an AU where when realized it separated the character from the object and the object is still in the house just not tied to a human

Also I apologize this is my first ever fanfic, and I only have the fanfics i've heard and the c.ai experience XD

Gender neutral reader tho there is a nickname used which is prince or princess (just as a warning)

I hope you fellow chance enjoyers enjoy :)

Tags: Gender neutral reader, fluff, Chance date everything, Chance the D20, wholesome

Wc: 1.3k

(not mine^)

—-------------

“Realize everyone in the house. Realize skylar. Destroy the dativators.”

Seemed easier than you thought it'd be. But when you realized what that would actually be like, you knew it would be a lot on you. You had gotten to know everyone so well, and were not too keen on the idea of letting everyone go. But you knew it was for the best. So you did, one by one you went to your friends, using the dativators to turn them into humans. They were all so excited to see the world, thanking you over and over again. It was difficult saying goodbye. But it was just preparation, for the hardest goodbye. Chance…

Ever since you met Chance, there hadn't been a day you didn't visit him. You always stopped by to play GnG for a few hours. You and Chance had gotten very close, and had even formed a bond. Some nights you visit him just to ask if he’d cuddle you to sleep, which he never said no to. After all, to him you were perfect

Your dativators worked their magic, fully realizing Chance. You looked at him, holding back tears. He looked amazing, well he looked amazing before, but now..

“Holy Crit! Would you look at that? I have taken on a new form!” he giggled excitedly, admiring his human body

You chuckled, he looked so excited, like a kid in a candy store. Yet, you were starting to not be able to hold back your tears. He could see that something was wrong by your expression. His smile faded slightly, his expression softening. “Y/N..?”

You couldn't keep it in anymore. Tears fell down your cheeks as you looked at him. You felt terrible, not letting him enjoy his moment of becoming a human because of the selfish feeling of not wanting to let him go. He quickly comes closer to you, embracing you and giving one of his signature bear hugs. “Oh Love, what's wrong?”

“Please.. Promise to come back to me..?” You sniffled, mumbling into his neck, almost too quiet for him to hear. He understood right away what you meant. He kissed your cheek softly as he spoke softly.

“You think I'd leave and never come back? I'd be crazy to let the person I love the most go” He moved you back slightly, still holding you. He softly grabbed your chin and made you look at him.

“I’ll go on my adventure, but returning to the castle my princess/prince is occupying will be the only thing to conclude my quest” You chuckled through your tears, listening to his dorky way of saying he’d be back. You brought him into a sweet kiss, his soft lips pressing against yours.

You say your final goodbye as you watch him leave your home. You cried a bit that night, not something you were proud of.

…

Time passes by, with the dativators destroyed your life is now somewhat peaceful. But also somewhat lonely. You layed in bed, your arm covering your eyes. It had become harder and harder to find reasons to get out of bed, but you'd stay strong. You shifted your body to lay on your side as you picked up your phone. You scrolled Phacebook, looking at all the fun things your old objects are doing now. They were all pursuing their dreams, going on their own adventures. You smiled as you stared at your phone screen and saw Chance’s dorky smile. He was playing GnG, being the DM as always. He looked so happy, and that made you happy as well. But seeing his face on your screen just made you miss him more. The feeling of his hands all over your body, the taste of his sweet lips, his voice whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you cuddle. You grabbed your extra pillow and hugged it tightly, wishing it was him. You placed your phone down and grabbed your d20. After he had left, you always kept it on your bedside table. You twirled it in your fingers, reminiscing even more on the moments you had with him. You finally sighed, knowing if you stayed in bed any later you'd be there for the rest of the day.

You slowly got out of bed, rubbing your eyes and slowly making your way downstairs to the kitchen. You sleepily opened the cabinet, pulling out your bread and putting two slices in the toaster. Pushing the lever down and waiting for it to toast as you put the bread back. Once your toast was done, you made your way to your table. You sat down and ate your fairly burnt toast, going back to scrolling the photos your objects were posting.

All of a sudden, you heard a knock at your door. “Hm..?” you let out an audible hum, wondering who that could be. You weren't expecting anyone, nor did you order anything from store-azon. You groaned as you got up from your seat and slowly went to the front door.

“Who is it..?” you say as you yawn and open the door.

Your eyes widen as you fully realize who is standing in front of you. “C-Chance…?”

He smiled his usual dorky smile and opened his mouth, about to speak. Before he could, you instantly threw your arms around him, embracing him tightly. He gladly hugged you back, he chuckled

“Missed me?” You could feel tears form in your eyes just from hearing his voice, you hug him tighter and he reciprocates. Once you two are done embracing, he takes a step back. You let out a happy sigh “You have no idea how much I've missed you..”

You noticed there were people behind him, no wait.. Many people.. You recognized them all. It was all 100 of the datables, all 100 objects all gathered at your doorstep. Your jaw dropped slightly, eyes widening. You felt under-dressed in your pj’s as you stared back at all of them

“Surprise!” Chance said with a sweet giggle, “We wanted to all surprise you”

“You guys..” You sniffled as you stared back at everyone

…

The party was the best time you've had in a while, getting to talk to everyone and hear their stories. It was even better getting to see the old GnG group. It made your heart warm knowing everyone was still friends and in contact with one another. But nothing matched the way you felt about seeing Chance again. You didn't want to latch onto him the entire time, so you spent time catching up with everyone. But you longed to just hug and cuddle with Chance until you passed out.

Eventually, the sun started to set. And everyone was starting to head out. You watch as Chance yelled his goodbyes to the last of the bunch. You slowly came behind him, hugging him from behind. It startled him slightly, his attention turning to you.

“You're not leaving.. Are you?” you say, your voice muffled by the way your face was pressed against his back. He let out a cute chuckle as he slowly moved your hands. He closed the door and turned around to face you, yet again hugging you.

“I was actually wondering…” he smiled softly, “How would you like it if your traveling knight stayed with his princess/prince? For the rest of his life..”

Your eyes widened, you thought he’d never ask. You pull him into a sweet passionate kiss before pulling away and responding. “If the knight stays, the princess/prince will never let him leave”

You could see the love in his eyes as he nuzzled his nose against yours, “The princess’s/prince’s love would make no man want to leave.”

You two kissed yet again, and again, and again. Until you stopped him and led him to your bedroom. You have a lot you have to catch up on…

—---------

Aaaaaa first fanfic ever! I hope that was enjoyable!

Apologies if i didn't portray Chance well enough, this was just a silly daydream I had that I wanted to turn into something

This fanfic was made by Chey, is posted by any other user, it has been stolen!!

Have an amazing day you simps <3

Enjoy some extra art for getting to the end :)

(art made by me, Chey ^)

[workanons]

Hurt dogs don't bite - Gribeans one shot

Another lovely au of the @ludolka I couldn't help but write about! This one shot comes with some warnings so please read them! Word count 10262

Warning ⚠️ mention of shooting someone, mention of taking someone hostage, mention of broken bones, mention of shooting animals, mention of causing someone harm and kissing!⚠️

Stay safe!

-💼

_____________

It wasn't fair, and he desperately wants to cuss out the entire Forest for his stupid mistake. On his hunt he was dumb enough to walk too close to the mountains, upsetting a bear family who recently had their cubs. He couldn't blame them for protecting the newborns but he didn't expect them to be this hostile and chase him through the mountain range. It was just his luck that he slit down loose rubble and sprained his ankle badly, squealing out his pain. In the first few moments where his ankle was stunned by the force of his fall he was convinced he broke it. But just laying there for a few minutes and taking mental notes of his body's status he was relieved it was just minor bruises and a few scratches that were bleeding.

Though the pain in his ankle was undeniable. With a huff he pulled out his wildlife map, checking quickly over where the closest outlook he could get to. To his luck one wasn't that far, normally it would only take a few minutes of walking but with his injured ankle he knew it's going to be a long walk. With a sturdy looking branch he found he heft his backpack back on, checking around him in case he dropped some and made his way to the outlook post.The walk was excruciatingly slow, having to stop for a few minutes to get his hurt ankle some rest. Joel wasn't a wimp and took pain like a champ, but the pain felt like he was actively stepping on glass shards again and again. When lifting his foot off the ground to give it rest it felt like it was pulsating, the pain getting so bad he had sweat bullets on his forehead and felt like he might pass out. However he made it to the outlook, and didn't care he crawled up the many steps on all fours.

Out of breath and sore hands he unclipped his heavy backpack. For a few minutes he just lays there getting his breathing back under control, choosing to ignore the throbbing pain in his ankle. Rolling onto his back he looks for a talky or a radio of some sort, he needs help there is no way he would walk back out of his hunting reserve with his ankle. After spotting one he scoots closer to it on his bottom trying his best not to jostle his leg too much, upon reaching for the radio he quickly unhooks it from its station and fiddles with the frequency. "Jimmy. Jimmy come in" For a few seconds he feared he selected the wrong one before a crackling static filled the silence. "Joel? What's up mate?" Biting his lip he hesitates. Sure he needs help but normally it was Jimmy who called for help and now he had to tug his tail between his legs and accept defeat. "I got hurt, I need you to get me from the outpost near pheasant lake..." For a few minutes there was silence before

"you're joking..are you actually?"

"I am not! I did not get chased by an angry bear and fall off a mountain only for you to accuse me of lying Jim! My foot hurts! So get your ass here! I did not crawl all the way from the mountainside to here to prank you!"

Briefly he felt guilty for losing his shit at Jim but the throbbing pain constantly reminding him didn't help stay calm. "Alright! Geez just stay calm I'm getting the pickup truck alright? Stay hydrated up there.." and with that he was left alone with his thoughts. Placing the radio back on the table he decided to at least do first aid on himself, leaning over to his backpack he pulled it closer with his healthy foot and looked for his med kid. Frowning at the contents of his own med pack he grabbed a bottle of almost empty disinfectant. Only he could blame himself for not stocking up his medpack, having procrastinated on restocking it for a few weeks now. Technically it was empty save for the small puddle of it left in there, despite it he took some gauze and drenched it quickly wiping away the dirt off his few scratches. It barely hurt assuring him that he wasn't too badly hurt save for his ankle, moving on from his wounds he made a move to remove his boot. Hissing in pain, despite having the entire boot untied, it was a painful progress almost making moving a mountain seem like a breeze. After he finally got the boot off he peeled away his sock, having to bite his jacket in pain and yep. There is bruising. Now Joel had a new dilemma. While he has swelling plus bruising, he was now unsure if he broke his ankle or just sprained it. Both outcomes suck but broken means being out of commission for a few months, meaning he had to rely on Jim to nurse him back to health...yeah right. He has to stabilize his ankle if he wants to avoid hurting it further, looking around there were not many options. A few empty crates, some cans, a pack of bottled water, a small kitchenette which has a portable stove. Praying that the kitchen had some wooden spoons he lifts himself up. Sitting down on a nearby stool and began rummaging through the drawers and cabinets. He was excited to find a wooden spoon in one of them and quickly placed it near his ankle and wrapped the gauze around it. Inspecting his work, he deemed acceptable for now before pulling his sock over it. Popping quickly some pain killers in the hope his ankles pain won't make his head spin anymore.

The wait for Jimmy to come quickly became boring and Joel had no other choice but to sit outside with his binoculars and scan the terrain for a light blue pickup truck. The Forest of course hid a few roads and he wasn't sure from what site Jim would come from, so he quickly changed his interest and tried to spot a few resting spots or feeding spots of the animals in the reserve. Happy he noted down on his map a few resting spots and even saw a group of fallow deer drink at the lake, noting down the time next to the location. However his mood soured a bit after spotting a red deer with an amazing rack, a work of nature. The fur is a nice brown with a reddish tint to it and antlers on its head that looked like wings sprouting from its head.

It would make a pretty mount for collectors and would give him a pretty good income. But at last, his ankle wouldn't allow him to track the animal and judging by the height and distance between him and the deer he was certain that his shot would definitely miss and only spook the animal. His rifles only could shoot a distance of three hundred and wile he managed to hit a target further than that he simply wouldn't risk fucking it up and making the poor thing suffer. However his thoughts came to a screeching halt when a voice sounded behind him. "What doing?" Joel's ears pulled back, his head turning quickly to the sound that he could have broken his neck. And truly a pheasant hybrid was sitting on the outlooks roof smiling at him in that annoying shit eating grin that makes him want to shoot him.

"YOU!" He barked, already pissed despite the hybrid barely having done anything yet. "Yes me~ what are you up to, puppy boy?" Oh he really came to rub salt into the wound. "Fuck off I'm not in the mood for your taunts." A chuckle sounded that made him want to blush, why was his laughter so beautiful? "I can see that, but don't worry I totally didn't hear your scream from the mountain range and definitely didn't see you get chased by a bear and absolutely didn't see you fall down." He laughed. That laughter only served to make his blood boil, but he knew he couldn't chase, couldn't engage in their usual fight.

Grian seemed to have noticed as well his teasing smile vanishing. "Are you badly hurt?" It was strange, the pheasant never showed this much concern for him before. "...not too bad, I have a friend pick me up here." His eyes scanned the other and he found himself lost in the shimmering feathers of the other, the sunset catching his frame in a golden light. Almost like an angel.

"I was worried when I saw you fall..." That did snap his attention back to the other's face. "And then I didn't see you... I didn't hear any shots... For a moment I thought you got eaten by the bear..." Silence sat heavy between the two, Joel wasn't a fool. He knew Grian worried about his only protection against other hunters. "Did you break your foot?-" "stop pretending, I'm fine and will gladly Chase you in a few weeks."

The pheasants' face twisted in confusion before it was quickly replaced with annoyance. "Typical for you hunters... All you care about is your next hunt. When you get to take another life!" The cheek feathers fluff up in defense and Joel couldn't help but feel like he had to defend himself. "That's not true and you know it. I hunt animals that have grown in population rapidly...like the red and fallow deer." The pheasant's gaze left him looking over to the Forrest line that was drowned in gold."I don't hunt for fun or to just shoot for the heck of it, these animals don't have natural predators here. You know Forrest as well as me." Joel was amazed at himself at how composed he was right now, normally conversations between them were short and quickly turned into threats, escalation close behind with physical attacks. Funny how a hurt ankle managed to keep him calm enough to have a conversation with the other. The silence stretched on between the two before Grian jumped down and approached him with caution, a lazy smile placed itself on Joel's lips as he leaned against the railing behind him. "Don't worry I won't bite~" he jokes, eyeing the bite mark on Grian's neck. The pheasant gave him an unamused look. "Yeah and I don't scratch, let me take a look at you.." he let the blond fuzz over him for a while, quite enjoying the attention, but was unamused when the focus landed on his main problem. "I wrapped it up pretty tight with a wooden spoon on it- OW." He squealed as grian touched his bandages. "Yeah and wrong let me redo it" hot white pain flashes in Joel's vision and all he could do was grip Grian's shoulder as he re-wrapped the spoon. It was over fast but the shock of the pain left him breathless.

Both men locked eyes and still high on adrenaline from the pain he crashes their lips together. It was messy, primal and just so them. With his other hand on the pheasant's shoulders he pushed him to the ground, getting on top of the bird hybrid, straddling his hips. Sharp claws were against his stomach slipping between the jacket and the shirt, he was aware of the danger he was in. One cut of those claws at his stomach and he would lose all his organs. His tail wags at the thought, grian was dangerous but so was he.

Breathless both separate, the yellow eyes sparkle of the Bird hybrid and in an odd sense it felt almost domestic. The moment was broken by a harsh slap to his cheek and a kick to his stomach, confused Joel got off the other and was met with a very mad and flustered grian. "What is wrong with you?! Don't touch me." 'back to chase and catch ' Joel thought before he decided to lay down on the wooden floor. "Alright, whatever..." Closing his eyes Joel listens to the sounds around him, the soft breeze rustling the leaves, the faint mating calls of the wildlife around them, his own calm breathing and Grain's labored breathing. 'but no car...' slowly the pheasant hybrid approaches him and he makes no move to grab or move and to his surprise the other actually lies next to him, draping a wing over him. The wing was soft and warm like the sun on his face. For a few minutes no one of them speaks until... "I'm sorry..." "It's alright." Joel knew Grian wanted to say more, hesitant "we are a mess...when you were on top of me I knew we were just kissing...but I got..." "Spooked? Yeah I have that effect on prey hybrids G." A look was shared between them both before grian leaned over giving him a kiss on the cheek before resting his head on his shoulder. "Get well soon Joel, this Forest is going to be boring without you." A snort. "You act like I'm dying, G" "who knows perhaps you are, your so mellow puppy. It's so unlike you." Rolling onto his back he took Grain's hand, pressing a kiss to the others knuckles. "Don't worry song bird soon I'm back to hunting you through the Forest and one day I will catch you and keep you in my home where no one can hear you scream~" the thought sounded too appealing but both of them knew that it wasn't what they wanted. Joel too much enjoyed the chase and grian to be free. This fantasy shouldn't become reality. "You best believe that I won't stop a day to get out of it." The pheasant teased back, leaning down again. This kiss was much sweeter and gentle. The constant thump thump thump against the wood floor from his tail was the only noise in their shared moment. Separating again felt worse than the lack of breath in their lungs, but the view of Grian made up for it. Ruffled feathers, a deep blush on his cheeks and freshly kissed lips.

"Then I will have to catch you again, such a pretty angel can't get away." Both basked in the evening sun some more, soon the sun will be behind the mountains and cast the forest in shadows. But the haze of soft kisses and touches was broken by Jimmy.

"Joel? Are you up there? Sorry I'm late. I accidentally went to the other viewpoint near the lake!" And with that his angel slipped away and he sadly had to watch the pheasant fly away. With a sigh he answered his friend. "Yeah I'm up here."

[katiekatdragon27]

Heheheh Shebly's Site doodles.

Captain Fiddle Fitcher (shortened to just "Fitcher") is the brave fisherman turned solo pirate fishbowl who is in charge of educating guests on marine life hosted in Vallysprings. Sometimes, he also does demonstrations with the fish, taking them out and putting them in his head to show off. He is often asked where he got his injuries from, to which he tells the kids a different story each time.

"Mr. Robin" is a detective who helps with non-seasonal events. He hosts scavenger hunts for all ages to participate, encouraging exploration through a compelling detective story. He's also quite the snoop, but his giddiness and need to crack jokes blow his cover every time. He loves being a detective, but in reality, his heart resides in writing novels.

Blyth is the smug and carefree lamp. Designed for the show and brought into real life by popular demand, she wanders around Vallysprings recording events and helping with general navigation of the museum.

Draftin is the identical twin of Ribbons who helps host the after-school theater club performances. She is more technical and calculated, working more with the backstage stuff and with costume design.

Both of them, along with Aclipse, are members of the Super SAFE Science Club.

They present on the surface as just a bunch of lab buddies, and Ribbon actually used to be the third member before Drafin. However, things would get... explosive, so the club almost disbanded for the safety of everyone. However, the first time Draftin showed up instead of Ribbons, nothing went wrong. They tried doing increasingly more dangerous stunts, and nothing went wrong as long as Draftin was around. They decided to record and post their experiments online and gained quite the hefty following with Blyth being the camerawoman, Aclipse being the lead, and Draftin (and sometimes Ribbons) being the assistant(s).

Eventually, they did get in trouble with management, but the channel is still up in the universe, and they still post on it after the place closes down. However, they don't respond to comments, and videos are getting increasingly dire and desperate...

ANYWAYS, here's a lil doodle of the twins yapping about the ppl they like (yeah yeah the ships are the same through all my aus sue me or whatever).

Also, here's some ship art angst below the cut. I'm not handing it out for free this time😚:

MARRIAGE!!!!!!

Aclipse: BRAAAAMBLE!! I'M WORKING!! Bramble: Whaaaaat? Scared of people knowing you have a wife?

I think the only ""official"" couple in Vallysprings before its closure was Aclipse and Bramble. The two developed feelings around the late 2000s and actually were allowed to become an official public couple in the early 2010s. Their popularity on the show encouraged the shipping of the two, and one day, there was a huge wedding for them in Valleysprings.

Sadly, they are still forced to be long-distance because Bramble is seasonal but seeing them walk together around the museum during the Christmas season was always sweet to see.

Bramble: I don't know what's wrong with it! I tried everything! Aclipse: Hmm... Hun... Did you plug it in? Bramble: ... OOOOHH. (Oopsies.) Aclipse: Bramble. Baby. You're almost 40, please.

I love the idea of Bramble not being super smart when it comes to tech. She has canon Sprout's lack of machine ability (Sprout constantly whining about how hard machines are).

As for canon couples after Vallyspring's closure? Well~

Heheheeee Fashion Flaming Frenzy but weird. Idk what to call them lol.

But uh yeah, despite the fact Gash has been in multiple relationships before these two, his ass STILL can't comprehend affection whatsoever. He still clams up out of nervousness when one of his partners leans in for a kiss.

This is funny imo cuz he was the one who confessed first. This is also funny because both his partners are extremely affectionate🫶

AND ON THE TOPIC OF GASH:

Gash: Thank you for not giving up on me.

Zee is Gash's best friend. They are probably the most unlikely duo in all of Vallysprings, with their contrasting personalities and energy levels. However, Zee sees Gash past his angry exterior for who he really is and tries to nurture that, and Gash appreciates Zee's presence, especially because their aura helps him get proper sleep.

On the topic, Zee is probably the most comforting character in all of Vallysprings. She's everyone's unofficial and unlicensed therapist. However, even the stress can get to them too.

Shelby: Zee... What do we do?

Me when a pandemic, multiple safety violations, and fraud charges lead to your facility being closed without a word from your creators or anyone who's worked with you at all-

Here's your angst but no happy ending. When Vallysprings shut down, Shelby was the first to find out after searching for some paperwork from Anders (Arthur equivalent). This information was hidden from everyone for a good 2 years after the museum closed its doors cuz the two didn't know how to tell everyone. When the info did come out, it was MESSY.

But that's for another post🫶. Enjoy this lore and have a lovely day!

[lisssyyu]

Don't be afraid, I don't pray

PAIRINGS: Monster Hunter!Vi x Half-demon!Reader

AUTHOR'S NOTE: It was hard for me to write this because there are a lot of feelings, but no words. In fact, I was trying to portray something like a feeling of compassion, to make many people understand that there are moments in the world when you need to put prejudices aside and look deeper. But in fact, I'm not sure that I succeeded. My thoughts were getting mixed up one after another and I rewrote the text for 3 days, to be honest. Please leave a review with your opinion, it will help me in the future for writing works (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡ I'm also planning bonus parts with a lot of fluff and maybe even perversions, who knows. ¯⁠\⁠⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠⁠/⁠¯

WARNING(S): AU ;; Hurt/Comfort ;; description of corpse/death ;; anxiety ;; long descriptions ;; grey morality

wc: 8.2k

They say demons did not come from the depths, but from blood. Not from the sky, not from underground fissures, not from other worlds, but from within man himself, from that which cannot be repented.

Their appearance remained a myth for a long time. Legends sang of those who were supposedly born with eyes that reflected crimson sunsets, with voices awakened by the cries of nameless gods. Their descriptions varied: some had skin as black as coal, some as pale as dust, and some whose bodies seemed to consist entirely of mist and claws. But in every legend, one image appeared without fail, one that was not so changeable.

A creature with a human body and wings as heavy as all the sins of the world. They were not decoration, for they trailed behind her, leaving a pungent taste of rust in the air. According to the stories, the fallen feathers burned in the sun and dried in the palms like ashes.

The Bloody Bird. The one who drinks from the heart and leads the Ruby Gaze.

She was everywhere where the slaughter began. She came as a sign. But not a single authentic testimony has survived, not a single voice that saw her up close. Only rhythmic lines repeated in different corners of the world and scratched engravings in which her appearance could only be guessed at by her wings stretched toward the sky and the crimson stripes around her. People kept in their memory a face that none of them seemed to have seen, but everyone knew. And yet none of them wanted to believe that the myth was closer than it seemed.

The half-people, descendants of lost unions, lived far away in the mountains, where the trails were overgrown with moss and snow lay nine months of the year. Their houses clung to the rocks like nests, hidden from the wind and human gaze. Smoke rose in thin wisps from the chimneys, mingling with the fog. No one knew for sure where their lineage came from: some said they were descended from witches who had slept with ancient gods, others that they were descended from people in whom the devil had planted signs. There was too much that was strange about them to call them human, and too much that was human to call them monsters.

They wove amulets from branches, dried roots on ropes by the windows, and counted the days not by the calendar, but by the changing scents in the air. Children were taught to remain silent in front of strangers and to look down, even if they saw death.

But one night, this thin line crumbled like a house of cards in the wind.

You didn't want to kill. But that night, in the darkness of the forest, you met the one whom the half-humans called Lepers — an outcast whose appearance was a reflection of his crimes and defiance. Lepers were those who were ruled by instinct, who broke the ancient rules and were expelled from their communities. Although for the sake of public order, the Marked were killed without further ado, this time something went wrong. He had eyes that changed color in the sun and a spine covered with scales. He would have been a fine fellow if not for the madness in his eyes. You tried to negotiate, to come to a mutual decision, because you didn't want any trouble either, but it all happened too fast: sharp teeth sank into your wing, tearing not only flesh but also common sense. Tearing apart peace and common sense. Your heart was beating like crazy, blood was pulsing through your veins, and your instincts spoke louder than your mind.

In the morning, people found him. A couple of woodcutters stumbled upon the body, which had been torn apart and was bleeding among the roots of an old spruce tree at the edge of the forest. The bones were broken, the joints twisted in the opposite direction, but there was only silence around, scarlet feathers, and a bloody trail disappearing into the depths of the forest. On the same day, the Council summoned the hunters, those who had once been soldiers and were now called upon to fight the creatures from the ancient writings. Among them was Vi.

Vi did not respond immediately, because she remembers what it is like to be a soldier. She stood at the border three times, twice returning without a medal, but with a stitched shoulder and lost relatives. Her father died in the first war, her mother in the second, and her sister burned to death in the third. After her discharge, she disappeared and settled in a small town among the hills, opening a shop where she sold books, dusty figurines, cracked teapots, and words that no one needed. She loved it when silence slowly filled the rooms, like water filling an old jug. She loved dawns without the sound of bugles and tea with honey, bitter to the taste but warm like a forgotten memory. But there are cracks in peaceful life. Rumors of a torn body, of feathers left on the ground, of how the forest suddenly began to seem closer and darker than before. At first, it all seemed to her to be just another village fairy tale. Until one evening, a letter landed on the table in her shop. Yellow parchment, wax seal with the Council's coat of arms, and a line written by the hand of the man who once commanded her platoon: "We need you."

Others were already there. Those who fought for gold, those who hoped to atone for old sins, and even those who could not do otherwise, because war had long since become their breath. And Vi went because she remembered the woman who once stood in the doorway of her shop. She said nothing, only held a bloodstained pendant in her trembling fingers, and on her child's chest was a rough, hastily stitched scar. Vi asked no questions. She just closed the shutters, took a knife from the shelf, and for the first time in many years felt the fire returning to her veins. Now she was the one whose name was mentioned in reports, and whose face was seen by those who were unlucky enough to survive.

The morning was cold and clear, as if woven from frost and fine mist. The light had not yet fully touched the ground, only barely penetrating through the intertwined fir branches, leaving shimmering patterns on the ground. The forest was silent, holding its breath, and it seemed that even the birds had forgotten how to sing. Only somewhere in the distance, bark crackled softly, as if someone were carefully following behind.

Vi moved slowly, almost silently, deftly stepping over roots and crooked boulders. Before her, like a thread leading through a silent mystery, stretched a trail of blood. It was as if someone had fled in panic, carrying their pain deeper and deeper into the thicket.

The blood had seeped into the moss and foliage, darkened by the night's cold, but it was still alive. Vi looked at it with particular attention, with the same intensity with which she had once tracked enemies on the borders, back when she still believed that every step had meaning and every decision could reveal the truth.

The trees closed over her head, dimming the light. It smelled of old resin, damp stone, and snow that still lay in the shade. The space seemed to narrow, turning the forest into a corridor leading not so much to a destination as to a revelation. A heavy feeling grew in her chest, a viscous and inexplicable premonition. She couldn't name it, but she felt that around the next bend there would be something she wasn't ready for.

An oak tree appeared through the branches ahead. Lonely, old, and almost out of place here. At its foot, in the semi-dry grass, lay a figure.

You seemed to blend in with the ground. The morning light slid across your wing, revealing torn flesh, twisted feathers, and a strange metallic sheen in the curves. Blood had already caked in the folds of your clothing, on your fingers, on the grass around you, turning into rusty evidence of what had happened to you. Vi saw the face. Human. Too young to be a monster and too tired to be an enemy. The skin was pale, like frostbitten petals. There was dried blood in the corner of the mouth. One wing was spread out on the ground, the other bent under itself like a broken bird. Vi noticed how you slowly, almost shyly, looked away like a person who had nothing to say in their defence.

She crouched down beside you and reached out her hand, as if wanting to carefully examine your wounds. You were not as you were portrayed in the legends, not a beast or a monster, but something else entirely. There was no malice in your eyes, no flashes of aggression, only weakness and fear. This contradicted everything Vi had learned and believed. On the one hand, duty demanded a ruthless end, to stop your suffering by plunging a knife into your heart. But on the other hand, she was not one to kill based on rumours and fear alone. Not every frightening shadow brings pain, not every distorted legend gives birth to evil.

When she gently touched your wing, you whimpered in pain, and tears filled your eyes. Vi's heart ached with pity, but she did not stop.

"Shh, quiet… it will hurt, but it will be over soon."

You remained silent, your gaze fixed on the ground, while Vi carefully bandaged your torn wing, her eyes involuntarily lingering on the scarlet feathers that shimmered in the morning light like little tongues of flame.

Vi felt an inner conflict flare up within her with renewed force. Memories of her mother, who taught her to be kind even when the world around her seemed cruel and merciless, like a quiet voice in her soul, forced her to restrain herself. She remembered her mother saying,

«Strength is not about breaking others, but about giving hope even to those who seem lost.»

Her heart beat loudly, as if arguing with the cold of the morning forest, each breath bringing the weight of pain and doubt. This vague burden pressed on her chest, reminding her how fragile faith in the light that could break through the darkness was.

In the silence of that moment, it was not the fate of one creature that was being decided, but her own faith in humanity, in the belief that light was still capable of breaking through the darkness. Vi gently pressed her palm against your wing, trying to ease the throbbing pain, her gaze fixed on your face. Cold fear gripped your chest like an icy hand, and your whole body tensed, preparing to defend itself, even though you barely had the strength to breathe. But despite everything, you allowed Vi to heal your wounds, not quite understanding why, but trusting her only this once because of your desperate situation.

"I killed him," you finally say, when the sharp pain subsides, giving way to a throbbing but tolerable discomfort.

There is a moment of silence before Vi asks:

"Why?"

"He wasn't an enemy, but he became one. Madness drove him into a corner, and I couldn't let him destroy others and himself first.

Vi looked at you, and gradually the pieces of the mosaic that had previously seemed scattered and meaningless began to fall into place in her mind. Each fragment: your wound, your voice, your fatigue, and your words took shape, and the picture became clearer. Before her was not a mindless creature from terrifying tales, but a living, complex personality filled with pain and struggle. Legends are born not from truth, but from fear and misunderstanding, turning those who differed from the masses into monsters and enemies.

On the day your paths crossed, it seemed that fate itself was weaving invisible threads to bring you together. Despite the burden of prejudice and the shadows of the past, each of you sought in the other not an enemy, but a reflection of your own pain and hope. Vi saved your life, and in return you offered her the unwavering loyalty you were capable of.

[thejesterstears]

Not to sound blunt and this is no shade at all to you OP, but I feel like some people debating if it's "wrong" to sill ship them spawned this overblown discourse that made people feel guilty or weird for doing so. Sure they're not as close in canon as we may have wished but their relationship is also not toxic or hateful--it's still a pretty "vanilla" ship, compared to other ships that have more potential of being toxic based on canon events (and that are also not an issue). At the end of the day Gooseworx has confirmed that no ships will ever be canon and that we are allowed to ship whatever we want as long as we are not mean to each other, a reminder that I think is pretty important to reiterate here.

So! All that said I'm not going to stop shipping them anytime soon, and if anything I think ep5 opened the door to get creative with how these two might potentially become closer in your fanon works, but that's just me. And don't forget we still have four more episodes that might toss us some crumbs, so I'm staying hopeful!

So be honest: is anyone aside from me shipping Ragatha and Pomni anymore?

[goldfishinaplasticbag]

while i do agree on people having fun in fandom & having silly ideas i also think that fanon tim hate is mostly justified like if you enjoy canon tim and you see all the fan content on him being inaccurate to his character or just scrubbing anything you liked about him ofc you're gonna hate him AND if you dislike tim alr and you see all his content and see how they completely butcher every character close to tim just for whump or bashing your fav in favour of tim its gonna be annoying asf not to mention some of the fanon tim fans just spread so much misinfo it gets annoying but like i dont think its that hard to just block and ignore them

this is from a while back whoops, sorry for the late ass reply. i am very bad at checking my inbox.

hmmm i understand both sides—canon hating fanon, fanon hating canon, etc. it's more correct of me to say i personally don't hate on either side, instead of my original statement of saying i didn't understand why. i do get why! a lot of fanon does get canon tim wrong, and it does suck to see people hate on him solely because of what they see in current fandom. i do get it. i just don't really support hating on anyone or anything, at least outright. ignore, mute, block—all are my favourite tools whenever i see something i dislike or disagree with, as you said.

for me, i just think everyone just wants to have fun at the end of the day. i get why canon enjoyers are upset at fanon, and i also get why fanon creates these new traits and stories. i've been on the internet for a long time now, and so i can't really hate on anyone for just trying to have fun. again, this is just my personal opinion, and very understandable if you disagree. i am just pretty nonjudgmental and also keep to myself most of the time 🤷 if i see something i don't like i simply don't interact with it

[ceaseless-tosser]

As someone who made way too many Little Talks brain animatics back in the day, I would love to hear your thoughts about the lyrics pertaining to the Distortions being trans and maybe kissing about it.

agenderfrenchfry no! you've triggered an unskippable cutscene!

so obviously the most animatic-bait aspect of 'little talks' is the dreamlike banter between Nanna and Ragnar. i interpret this as micheal at first tormenting helen, but as she's slowly lost to the distortion, its not 100% clear which of them is feeding off the other. something of note is that, in the mix of the song, Ragnar's vocals are louder than Nanna's in the first chorus, and then Nanna's are louder in the second. Just keep that in mind:

Helen: I dont like walking around this old and empty house Micheal: So hold my hand, I'll walk with you my dear

The first scene we get, of Helen, disoriented, wandering the hallways of the 'house' with Micheal stalking behind her. I don't think it would show its face yet, instead appearing as a shadow or reflection in one of the many mirrors, but we never see its eyes

Helen: The stairs creak as you sleep, it's keeping me awake. Micheal: Its the house telling you to close your eyes.

Helen is exhausted as she has been pursued through the corridors for days, all the while micheal stalks her and implores her to finally give in.

Helen: And some days, I can't even dress myself Micheal: It's killing me to see you this way

the first vestiges Helen's identity are starting to break down, with Micheal gaslighting her by pretending to be sympathetic.

Cause though the truth may vary, this ship will carry our bodies safe to shore.

Obviously 'though the truth may vary' thing is relevant to the Distortion, and how its unable to properly lie. The 'ship' in question is the Distortion, the whole distortion, in its contradictory, impossible fullness, and how Helen and Micheal have both been devoured by it, and are too far gone to recognize if that's a bad thing.

Helen: There's an old voice in my head that's holding me back. Micheal: Well tell her that I miss our little talks.

Helen is only hearing distant reverberations of who she used to be now, as disconnected from her as Micheal Shelly is to the current Micheal. Having them be so similar now is starting to make Micheal uneasy, it prefers it when their dynamic was straightforwardly that of hunter and prey

Helen: Soon it will be over and buried with our past Micheal: We used to play outside when we were young And full of life and full of love

Helen is starting to forget, starting to get a lil spooky in return, Micheal is confused by images of the old self it hates.

Helen: Some days I don't know if I am wrong or right. Micheal: Your mind is playing tricks on you my dear

Micheal regains dominance of their dynamic, trying to send helen down another dizzying corridor. Helen is receptive to it, however, and seems to join in Micheal willingly as she loses her mind.

Don't listen to a word I say The screams all sound the same Though the truth may vary This ship will carry our bodies safe to shore

This is where its important that the 'male' vocals are louder in the track. Obviously the chorus is inherently distortion coded, a sort of announcement of Micheal's control over its identity, tinged with its resentment of that identity. 'this ship will carry our bodies safe to shore' has a more resentful echo, as micheal does not *want* a body to linger within the ship

You're gone, gone, gone away, I watched you disappear. All that's left is the ghost of you

Helen is worn out, and shucked of all person-hood. She's been in here for ages, is still 'alive', still being toyed with but not quite devoured.

Now we're torn, torn, torn apart, there's nothing we can do. Just let me go we'll meet again soon.

Micheal has abandoned her to fuck around with Jon (homewrecker) and now she's just laying in the corridors wondering what the point of her even is.

Now wait, wait, wait for me, please hang around. I'll see you when I fall asleep.

Instead of using a map, the doors to the heart of the distortion open voluntarily. The ship guides helen into it's heart by choice, until finally she finds the withered husk that is the original micheal. finally helen is able to dispose of it, and take its place on her own terms

Don't listen to a word I say The screams all sound the same Though the truth may vary This ship will carry our bodies safe to shore

The 'female' vocals are louder now, indicating that Helen has manifested properly within the distortion. Now the ship has carried her body safely to its heart, and has chosen its own form from its own victim, primed for what it wants to be. The distortion has recovered from it's failed becoming, and is ready to strut her stuff as the worst woman in the world. Happy end!