#like i should hope it fucking Is an abomination. what will i do with it if it’s not

[fingertipsmp3]

Just saw a self-published author complaining about someone leaving a rude comment on her ad & fretting that ‘it might deter people from reading the book’… girl if they’re anything like me, it absolutely won’t. I love fucked up storylines, I love unlikeable characters, I love toxic romances and I love when a book is straight up nasty

[simping-on-the-daily]

how do i meet the strangest men (they always seem to find me)

Summary: The bizarre armageddon, (Weirdmaggedon, you once overheard Ford call it) is upon you and the town of Gravity Falls. Spared from the human throne, the mastermind behind all this wants to share you with him and the man you once called a friend.

Warnings: Yandere content, not beta read we die like Eycludia, swearing, gore, Inspired by suggestive material but not NSFW

Notes: Based on @/yandere--stuck's drabbles and posts!! Title is from Possibly in Michigan, Ford is feral in a cute way and a dog, Bill uses all pronouns and she is transfemme thank you very much,,,,

Gravity Falls was a weird place.

It wasn't a ghost town- everyone here was a lively character, from Manly Dan to Old Man McGucket to Tyler Cutebiker’s horrifying puma-panther shirt abomination to the mailman who wouldn't shut the fuck up about her divorce from two years ago. It's chaos was almost relaxing, and at some point, the gnomes and manotaurs became a breather compared to panicking over last minute Summerween decorations and Northwest’s limo causing seventeen traffic jams in the span of two minutes.

This? This was not fucking relaxing. And it wasn't because of the gaping open wound over your heart, thank you very much.

Even above the chaos, you still felt yourself stressed by the very thought of the town’s circumstances. Bears doing choir and coffee turning to decaf? Sure, why not. A reverse waterfall of what you're pretty sure is blood and the water tower becoming a cannibal? That wasn’t ‘normal’. Those should've been Hades most horrific punishments, Sisyphus and Tantalus style, but no. It was real. And all of it was caused by the fucker in the corner.

Said fucker was currently playing fetch in the floating pyramids ‘penthouse suite’, using your bloody heart as a ball and throwing it to the other side, clapping when Dr. Stanford Filbrick Pines sprinted on all fours towards your still pumping organ. As he held it in his mouth, you felt a pain surge through your chest as his teeth dug through the layers, instinctively curling in on yourself.

“Good boy, Sixer! We’re making new records!” Bill patted Ford's head. Instead of fighting back, as he promised you and his family, Ford melted into the touch, gleeful smile on his face. Was Bud Gleeful dead? God, you hoped so. His shitty cars had no space in the apocalypse. A noise akin to purring was coming through Ford's vocal cords, and you knew that if Bill snapped his fingers and gave him a tail, it would be wagging so hard you'd get dizzy just from looking at it.

“Hey, sweetcheeks! Wanna give it a go?” Bill appeared in front of you, taking your hand off the human skin couch and placing your heart in it like mashed potatoes on a plate. The feeling of it felt gross, slimey in all the wrong ways. Bill intently waited, and you knew that despite his phrasing, it wasn't a question.

You still tried to postpone it, though. “Why not…..yours, this time?” You pointed towards the heart in your hands for clarification.

Bill laughed, hands reaching to where you assumed her stomach was as she chortled. “One day, honeypie! When your eyes won't explode and get in my eye. I like your gusto, though! I knew choosing you wasn't a mistake.”

You looked over to Ford, who was staring at you with lovestruck eyes, waiting for you to make the throw. God, that look was gonna fuck you up. With a sigh, you aimed back, elbow hitting the couch before you released and threw overhead.

You let out a pained whimper as you felt the agony of your heart hitting the roof with a strong thud. The moment it hit the ground, a few feet away from you, Ford scrambled to your heart, tripping on nothing as he ran towards you. With you on the couch and the scientist on his arms and knees, another surge went through your body as you realized how the scene would look from an outsider's point of view.

Bill gave a quick clap. “Impressive throw, snookums! We should go javelin throwing someday, just the two of us.”

You weren't focusing on him, though. All your attention was on Ford, and it felt like neither of you moved. You kept looking in his eyes despite trying to glance at anything else and god, there was a lot in this situation to get desolate or angry about, but damnit you couldn't be mad at Ford, you just couldn't.

For over thirty years, Ford's life revolved around Bill, whether she was Ford’s muse or mortal enemy. And being in a portal for thirty years? Of course Ford had some screws loose, twelve PHDs couldn't protect you from the natural mental decay that'd cause. To come back here, to think you're safe only for Bill to show her face and start the armageddon of shitposting? It wasn't surprising that Ford just……gave up.

Did he, though? Was Ford being mind controlled into this? Was he living in a reality where he wasn't on all fours with an ornate red collar choking him that had ‘good human’ written on the back? Was this the result of being human, of the brain being weird, like some sorta Russian Sleep Experiment or Yellow Wallpaper shenanigans? You didn't know, not really.

But you did know that you loved Ford, or at least cared for him enough to not put the blame on him. Both you and Bill know how he loved putting the pressure on all of his shoulders.

You gingerly placed your heart to the side, and cupped Ford's cheeks with your hands. Only then did you notice they were bloody, and you realized that there was gore nesting deep inside your fingernails with a mental sigh. Ford sunk into your touch, smiling such a happy smile and fuck you think your heart twitched.

“.....Good boy, Fordsy.” You settled on. “You're a good boy.”

You didn't know if it was Ford's tears of happiness or viscera from who knows where falling down your hands and dripping on your legs, but while yes, the sensation absolutely grossed you out, you didn't let go. Seeing Ford in this state was for a lack of better words, magnetic. It felt like a drug, an addiction you don't think your circumstances or Bill would allow you to be rid of.

But was that such a bad thing? Not when it was Stanford Pines who was giving you this exquisite rush?

“Hit the nail right on the head, babe!” Bill interjected, and with a quick snap of their fingers, they were now sitting in your lap. Your hands were taken off of Ford's face and wrapped around the triangle in some sort of hesitant hug. “He is a good boy, isn't he? And you are, too!”

With a gush of wind and a yelp from you, your heart was dragged back into your body, the hole in your body closing. You clutched your sides suddenly, insides now fucking freezing. This wasn't your organ, anymore, not really, it felt like an intruder in your meatsuit, the same way worms made nests in apples and that one unlucky time a fly flew into your ear during a picnic with you, Mabel and Dipper and the ensuing panic that came.

Dipper and Mabel, your stomach lurched with a freezing shiver. 'Let them and Stan be alright,' you prayed. A glimpse from the corner of your eyes caught a dash of pink from the bubble outside, and you felt goosebumps crawl up all your limbs like centipedes with human feet. 'Let them and Stan be alright.' you repeated with a plead.

“Gonna be honest, doll-eyes, I didn't get what Ford saw that was so special about you,” Bill mentioned with a flippant hand gesture, and though you knew you shouldn't give ten shits about what she thought about you, you still felt like shit regardless, like you were in the wrong. Did Ford feel like this too?

“But then I saw you in action, and boy oh boy, I almost turned pink by the sight of it!” Bill's arms were outstretched in a V shape, getting off your flap and floating up to your head. “And then it hit me.” They slapped themselves, and the sight of their pupil going in circles like they were dizzy was honestly sort of humorous, in a really fucked up way.

“You're the perfect middle line between me and Sixer!” She explained, stretching a limb to run it through Ford's hair, who snuggled your leg deeper in response. When did that happen? “And with us by your side, you could be a whole new extreme! Everyone likes a Mystery Trio, and we’ll be the best one this dimension could ever know! Ed, Edd and Eddy will eat their hearts upon seeing us!”

He cupped your face, just like you did with Ford. “You got potential, and me and this cute puppy here got the key, I just know it!” Their eye became a mouth, and as Bill interlocked his hands together, they placed a chaste kiss to your cheek and a more passionate on your lips and god fucking dammit, you hated the way your face flushed and how you felt Ford nuzzle your knee.

Your body only responded by scratching Ford's chin, and he responded with a squeal you could've never imagined him make until now. “Is…..is he gonna be like this, forever?”

Bill spined, an exaggerated way of shaking the head she doesn't have. “Sixer’s just as fun when he's a puppy just as when he's playing interdimensional chess with me! Which reminds me, we gotta introduce you to it sometime, we’d have a blast.” A snap of her fingers caused Ford to fall to the ground more than he already was, and you quickly heard content snores coming from him.

“It's a blessing as much as it is a burden for him. Every good pet human needs a break sometimes, and the best way to do that is to make the 'pet' part of our deal even more literal! No equations or worries in his pretty brain, all he needs to care about is pleasing the both of us!” Bill explained, summoning a cane and pointing to nothing like they were a teacher with a nonexistent blackboard.

“Both of us?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Pet human’s a good look for you, sweetheart! Pretty puppy? Not so much. Besides, I know how excited you got knowing what he'd do for you!”

“I think you're purposefully misinterpreting the context.” Trying to defend yourself, your outstretched arms hit a hard part of the human couch, and you instinctively clutched your hand in pain.

“I'm rarely wrong, honey! But being wrong to you? I could get behind that!” Bill adjusted his tie before giving you a quick forehead kiss. “When we get the kids and Oyster too, we can all be a big happy family! Like I've always wanted!”

‘Please let them be alright,’ you prayed for a final time, focusing on that instead of worrying about the unsettling look in Bill’s eye. Running your hands through Ford's hair, your heart sunk once more upon knowing how wrong this would look from an outside perspective.

You were worried that after a while, it would feel right.

[la2yn0va]

So if you are accepting request can you do something like yandere HSR girls of your choice (and include feixiao please) X Male Reader who's trying to kinda keep them from killing some people like Reader gives them puppy dog eyes and "wouldn't you rather spend time with me?"

Characters: Feixiao, Lingsha, Jingliu

*****

Feixiao

“See ya around, handsome~” the woman promised, waving at him while walking away. M/n stared back with nervousness, waving back at the woman. hoping his lover wasn’t around. He walked back but was quickly stopped when he bumped into a woman.

“Oh…heeey feixiao…!” He greeted, laughing nervously. Feixiao could only stare at him with possessiveness and malicious intent. “Vixen. Who might that woman be?” She asked, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him down to her level. (Shorter—Grabs you by your collar and pulls you towards her)

“Oh her…. No one important! Just someone who helped me out with the abominations of abundance!” He quickly explained. Feixiao seemed unconvinced, glaring deeper into his soul “Don’t lie to me vixen! Who is she!” She demanded, as m/n repeated his original statement.

Feixiao growled lowly, soft pushing him away and walking towards where the woman walked “If what you say it’s true, then I should go and thank her…” she said with a smile full of murderous intent.

M/n acted quickly. Grabbing Feixiao’s hand and flicking her around to face him, much to the generals shock. “Hey— come on now…! Your seriously gonna give that random girl more attention then me?”

Feixiao’s eyes glimmered with a mixture of speculation and offense. “What? I’m not giving some nobody my attention over you!” She claimed, now giving you her full attention.

“You sure? You seem oddly fixated with her” “Y-YES! I’m positive! Some nameless woman isn’t gonna have my eyes on them longer than they are on YOU!”

M/n swallowed his nervousness and slight pride, knowing this was a dangerous game he was forced to play. He closed his eyes, silently praying this would work, opening them and trying his best puppy eyes.

“Come on… don’t you wanna talk with me instead?” Feixiao stared with widned eyes. She hadn’t ever seen you like this! Why are you…why’re you being so damn adorable!?

Feixiao’s lips quivered, showing her internal struggle. Her body wanted to just go and murder that woman for daring to call you handsome! But her body also just wanted to kiss you right here and now!

M/n began to sweat as he held this look on his face. In this actually working…? Or is she just trying to freak him out so he can let her go and she goes and kills the woman…!

Feixiao sighed. She hadn’t trained herself to resist that look. So she picked you up and walked off. M/n sighed happily, realizing he had managed to save a woman from his girlfriend’s wrath.

“Don’t think your off the hook vixen~” she sung lowly, before lightly slamming you against a wall “You dare help that woman from escaping MY lesson~? And using those pretty eyes of yours to save her and manipulate my decision~?”

She leaned in, her breath attacking your neck making you jump from the shock of this whole turnout of events. “You’re in for a LOOONG day. My Naughty little vixen~”

She said with lustful intent, licking her lips before chomping down on your neck, making you yelp out a surprised moan. In the end, feixiao still gets her way.

(I’m breaking F2P for her)

Lingsha

“Thank you for your help” A woman said, shaking m/n’s hand and winking before bringing his hand up and kissing it, as if she were a gentlemen.

M/n froze, feeling a cold sweat drop from his nape. The woman giggled, believing that m/n froze due to embarrassment. “See ya around cutie” “ooohhh fuck…” he said to himself, turning to see an enraged and bloodthirsty Vidyadhara brunette.

“Wait just a mo—” M/n quickly put one of his hand over lingsha’s mouth, much to her shock and surprise. Being forced to watch the woman walk away, she created a small bunny and made it chase after her while keeping your eyes on her.

“WHAT. WAS. THAT.” She demanded an answer, her eyes twitching from anger as she pushed him onto a chair. M/n chuckled nervously, realizing he hadn’t thought this far ahead.

“Well? What do you have to say for yourself, little rabbit?” She pinched his ear roughly. “Ow—!! Wait—!!” “ANSWER ME!” She yelled, growing more irritated, her mind quickly filling with delusions.

“I-I just… well… you were paying too much attention to her!” He quickly spouted out, making lingsha freeze and widen her eyes. “…Huh?” She said as m/n realized he might’ve fucked up or is about to save a life.

“Y-You just seemed TO interested in her! A-and well—” “Oh? Is that why you’re worried? Aren’t you just adorable~” she said, stopping her harsh tugging of his ear and moving her hand to caress his face.

“Don’t worry. I’m proving she means nothing to me as we speak~” She said with a dark smile, m/n swallowed decided to shoot in the dark. He tried his best, and morphed his eyes to becoming similar to a sad puppy.

“Come on. Just forget about here… and pay attention to me.. please~?” Lingsha instantly got red on the face, feeling an arrow pierce her heart. Her entire body and focused was disturbed, which also led to the bunny she made completely disappearing.

“You cheeky little… Come here!” She yanked him forward, unable to stop herself from kissing him. She used her superior strength to keep him in place while she increases the intensity of her kiss.

Jingliu

“You’re a lifesaver pretty boy!” A woman gratefully hugged m/n, who simply patted her head. The women blushed embarrassed at the gesture but then bowed and walked away.

M/n watched her walk away before realization struck him like a semi-truck. He swallowed nervously before feeling the air suddenly grow cold. VERY cold.

He turned to see his girlfriend, a blindfolded woman with light blue hair. M/n swallowed once more, managing to see her eyes through the blindfold. Her eyes glowed red, holding nothing but malice, insanity, and delusion.

“Darling” she greeted coldly, walking towards him. “H-Hey jingliu..!! H-how are you—?” He was ignored. She walked past him, glaring down the woman with pure hatred.

“H-Hey—! Jingliu—?!” He yelled out, quickly jumping infront of her. “You okay…..?” He dragged out the ‘okay’ realizing that was a stupid question. Jingliu patted his face “Get out of my way dear” she warned him, her hand beginning to shake with murderous intent.

“H-hold on—! You’re really gonna pay attention to some random woman and not me…?” He quickly spouted out, trying to prevent the inevitable. Jingliu’s face turned more stoic, her blindfold slipping off to revel an apathetic yet insane stare.

“Is that how you feel dear? Don’t worry. I’ll alleviate your worries~” she promised, kissing him softly and walking off, quickly speeding up but m/n once again stopped her, grabbing her hand.

She flicked her head back, clear aggression in her face. He quickly acted, not think. His eyes became that of a puppy. “Wouldn’t you rather spend time with me…?” He said, seeing jingliu’s face calm into confusion before seeing her blush slightly.

She stared for a few seconds before turning fully to face him, bringing him in closer and cupping his face in her hands. She smiled softly and brought him in for a kiss.

“Forgive me love. But you brought this on yourself” she whispered, before knocking him out. “I will not take the slightest chance with you” She proclaimed. Lifting him up and turning, taking out her sword and running off the end the woman’s life.

-End-

[savvyreyes4587]

Your Choice, My order.

Pm!Dazai x Fem!reader

Author's note: Chapter one came out quicker than expected so I hope you'll enjoy it and sorry if it's too short, also half edited.

Summary: Dazai is intrigued with you but there is only one problem… you're not happy about it.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Blood, death, gore and mentions of suicide.

Go to Life Waster Series.

"So are you going to tell me?" Odasaku didn't have to look at Dazai to indicate what he was talking about, they both knew what he was asking.

Dazai only stared ahead, the emptiness he felt inside out somewhat ceased but it wouldn't fully go away… ever.

But truth be told, now he at least had something to keeo him intrigued enough until it either go away or simply… die and that something happened to be you.

Someone they called Time Weaver, a being able, to not see ahead into the future like Odasaku, but to manipulate time itself, go back in it or apparently slow it down, if what Chuuya told him was true.

She was a ghost to everyone, wherever she was, death followed and not a single person had seen her face before, at least not people he knew until Chuuya jumped in one day and claimed that he knew what you looked like but the slug refused to elaborate on when or why or how.

That was how he managed to corner you when he saw you at the bar which unfortunately proved that he was right, that he knew what you looked like but the idiot didn't think his actions through or how powerful you were and if it wasn't for Dazai then at least half the port mafia would've been attending his funeral right now.

Dazai was a curious being even though the abomination he was… it was human nature to be curious and he needed to know more about you, your ability, what it could and couldn't do. 

He desperately needed a distraction from the dark shadow looming over him, fucking with his mind and pushing him to a terrifying point that hadn't came in a very long time and you were that distraction whether you wanted to be it or not.

"Dazai?" It was Ango's voice that pulled him back go reality, the music from bar Lupin returning to his hearing and he turned to look at the two men looking at him and wondered if they saw into his thoughts…

Still, keeping appearances, Dazai sighed dramatically and finally answered. "She can control time." 

Odasaku looked like he was going to jump to the conclusion that you were like him but Dazai spared him the confusion after taking a swig of his drink.

"Not see into the future but she can slow time down, rewind it, shoot ropes from her body and who knows what else, she still didn't wake up yet." He clarified nonchalantly as if he didn't give a shit about the ability user or the ability itself but only a blind man wouldn't see the intrest he had in both.

Ango scoffed, his disapproval obvious "Yeah because you thought it was a good idea to have Kouyou as your plan B." 

Dazai pouted and shook his head. "I didn't know she was going to hit her that hard." 

"What do you expect from someone with the Golden Demon?" Ango barley moved an inch when Dazai hid himself behind Odasaku as if Ango was coming for his head.

Dazai tightened his hold on Odasaku's coat as he chanted. "Be gone, Devil." 

Oda only shook his head at the weird argument before an alarm went off on all their phones, indicating an attack on the port mafia.

In a blink of an eye, the childlike behaviour disappeared as they all stood up and got inside Ango's car as he drove them to the port mafia HQ while Dazai tried to contact Chuuya, his mood ruined thanks to the sudden emergency. 

When Chuuya finally answered after the fifteenth call attempt, that was how he started the conversation. "You waste of bandages! I told you we should hold her at a warehouse and not here!" 

Dazai's eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas day, hearing that you were awake, wrecking havoc and probably ruining Chuuya's outfit and mood… this night was starting to get better.

"That's why an emergency was called?" Dazai asked as Oda eyed him curiously, especially with the creepy smile Dazai had on his face.

Chuuya let out a trail of curses and the sound of things breaking, glass shattering and guards groaning in pain painted a nice picture for Dazai of the situation. 

"Yeah she woke up and chose violence and half our men are with the boss and the other half is dead or dying so could you make it here quicker, you dickhead!" Chuuya yelled on the other line as shuffling was heard. 

Probably moving to a better hiding spot. Dazai thought to himself before ending the call and telling Ango to go faster while smiling like a madman.

This night was going waaaaay better than his expectations. 

A few minutes later 

When Dazai and Oda arrived at the higher floors of the building he expected wreckage and perhaps a few bodies here and there but what he didn't expect was the bloody massacre all over the place, blood covering every corner, bodies and body parts all around…

Oda looked at Dazai as if he was waiting for an explanation but how was he to explain when he himself didn't understand. 

Dazai's intrest in you was increasing by the second and he didn't even have to look for you, a body flying past both him and Oda told him all he needed to know and he rushed in that direction, his coat flying with every step until he reached his destination where Chuuya was fighting you.

The young executive took you in, the unhinged look in your eyes, the blood covering your face and clothes, ropes shooting out in every direction to get hold of Chuuya who was barley using quarter of his ability on you, holding back with all his might.

You were the very image of every emotion that Dazai ever felt, painted in one being and the stupid waste of bandages as Chuuya called him stepped closer to you, ignoring Odasaku's protests.

You body went rigid for a second and you were right in his face in a… mere parts of a second, a rope shooting its way out and wrapping around his bandaged throat, lifting him off the ground.

"No guns this time?" You questioned, voice steady and booming with authority granted by your ability. 

Chuuya was beginning to move your way, ready to knock you out clean off when Dazai's hand shot out, ordering him to stop as he gazed into your eyes and he shook his head to the best of his ability with your rope tight on his throat.

"No guns." He barley let out and you smirked at him, expression holding every evil in the world.

"Wrong move." You moved a new rope, ready to strike him with it.

"But a man near Keisuke has one." He used the ace up his sleeve even though he wished he wouldn’t have to use it this soon, it could have came in handy later.

"What?" You were taken a back, shocked with what he said and Dazai took the opportunity to use the rope you had around his neck.

He pulled it forward, pulling you with it and placed his hand on your cheek, nullifying your ability and you both stumbled to the ground and he could only watch in amusement as you didn't understand what happened. 

His chocolate brown eyes pierced into your lost ones and he almost felt bad for his next words… almost. "If you don't want Keisuke to have a bullet in his head in the next minute, you will listen." 

Dazai could swear that he had never seen someone dare glare at him with so much visible hatred the way you were doing, you eyes fiery unlike any he had seen and maybe you could compete with the way Chuuya's looked in corruption. 

Yet, you didn't attempt to move as you took in the damage you've done and the three men surrounding you, one of them who didn't kill unless necessary, one who pretended that he was the baddest soul to ever walk the earth but he was entirely different and one… who didn't have a soul, much less empathy, much less trouble with killing you if you tried anything funny.

At last the weight of the situation you were in dawned upon you as Dazai saw how your body language changed from hostile to wary as you spoke. "He doesn't have anything to do with it." 

Dazai chuckled, unable to content himself at little naive you… no man, would get himself into taking care of an ability user like yourself, without having anything to do with it but he wasn't surprised you didn't see it. 

It was obvious that you led with your heart and emotions more than logic which would cause trouble if he managed to do what he wanted, which itself would be a miracle for you.

You almost stumbled backwards when Dazai knelt down, on the same level as you and his eyes looked haunting as he talked with so little emotion, as if he didn't even know them.

"He has everything to do with it but if you cooperate… his involvement could decrease if I say so." 

For the second time, you made the mistake of maintaining eye contact with him and he too was making mistakes right now, the mistake of letting himself deal with you directly, he could feel the invisible web of yours, luring him in and he was letting it.

"What do you want from me?" You asked, or rather demanded as you brought yourself closer to him to the point where you were breathing the same air.

He smirked, leaning in closer. "You will join the port mafia under my command and together we will learn your ability." 

He knew that if you fell in the hands of someone else, the port mafia wouldn't last much, if you were against them even if you and chuuya fought each other, it would lead to a destruction like the arahabaki one and the death of both of you.

Your voice shook with fear or rage, who knew. "And if I refuse? I could kill myself and then neither you nor anyone else can have any use of me." 

At that, Dazai had to pause everything momentarily and observe you for a minute. 

A girl who had abilities that were probably not naturally given but forced upon you, no home, no one to call family… all these would probably be enough reason to suggest that you might actually off yourself but there was one thing that changed the whole equation… Keisuke. 

The young executive had sent people all over where you usually appeared and managed to gather information. 

Tanaka Keisuke, a man who owned a market but it was actually a front to what or who he truly was, he found you around two years ago, saved you from a certain fate at that time and ever since, you became his protector and saved him at every turn… treating him like a brother you never had.

But someone like Dazai knew better than that saviour story but you were naive and someone who could be drained emotionally which Keisuke used on you perfectly but that also was why Dazai decided his answer to you question. 

With all the confidence he asked. "And leave Tanaka Keisuke all alone for the people who are after you to kill him? You wouldn't be that cruel, right?" 

The fury returned to you features. "As if you're letting me protect him? You're blackmailing me." 

"I didn't say I was a saint, Belladonna, but it's a give and take situation. You give yourself to us, and you take our protection to Tanaka. It's a win-win, don't you think?" 

He could see it behind those eyes of yours, the gears slowly turning and thinking of every possible outcome to any answer you would give.

"So what will it be, Bella? Us or Tanaka's death?" Dazai questioned.

Your gaze drifted to Chuuya, who was watching the scene unfold with a frown upon his face, not liking Dazai's plan but he could see why you turned to Chuuya, to you he probably looked like someone who might ensure his word.

Chuuya came closer, tone soft, meant to lure you to their trap. "I will be in direct control of his protection, he will be safe if you agree." 

You fell silent as your eyes were stuck on the floor but Dazai saw it, he had already won and you would be agreeing.

Step one was complete, now to the more complicated step… convincing the boss to take you in…

.

.

Taglist: @v15aexe

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[threepandas]

Bad End: After The War (Next ->)

The click of a button in a mostly quiet room. Machines humming as they churn an endless stream of data. Listening. Receiving. Filtering through the noise, for those bits of intelligence that might win us the war. The outpost was quite. As much as it could be, at least, on this god forsaken moon.

"Perimeter Check?"

More specifically, 'did you get your ass eaten by those horrifying eel-snakes? Because you promised not too, and I WILL be mad.' 'Cept, you know, these channels are technically recorded. Rather not have my snark On Record, thanks. So SUBTEXT.

The familiar, oh so melodious, demonic death screeching of abomination eels and blaster fire comes on comm. A symphony straight out of some sci-fi horror movie, act 3. The part where everybody's getting eaten. Except NOT, because this? This is just my life.

Though the eaten part is still a Very Real Risk.

Which Is FUN.

I wait. Hope I just caught Headshot at just a bad time. Not, you know, in his final moments. Ha ha... Nope! Not! Thinking 'bout that! He's immortal, I'm immortal, and we both live in a happy fun time fairy land of FUCKING WONDERS. Denial? Fuck yeah I know her! Best friend, that one. Gonna be my future kids godparent. Walk me down the aisle. We BESTIES.

There is finally, at long last, ominous silence. Dead or dying? Dead or dying? Which side, eels or Headshot, is Dead or-?

Click.

"Perimeter looks good. Bit of a mess near the east gate, though. We'll need to get the droids to shove some mess over the ledge. They tried to climb again."

Oh thank FUCK. Tension bleeds out of me. This post is hell on my anxiety. I send back the confirm. Slump back on my seat as I keep an eye on his tracker's dot, on the patrol read out. I fucking HATE perimeter checks. They aren't safe. But... well...

This universe? I'm pretty sure, it's an "all the serial numbers filed off" blatant rip off of Star Wars. Might be a fan fiction? Cause, while the troupes are familiar, the "characters", no one is where or WHO they should be. There are also other "totally not X" bits here and there, all of which confuses the fuck out me.

But what I DO know? Is that making a fuss about the safety and well-being of us peons? During this, the "totally not the Clone Wars"? While Evil Dick, Sith-y Pants the Obvious is in charge? GREAT way for our entire outpost to get "tragic casualties of war"-'d. So yeah, no thanks.

Keeping my mouth shut.

And, hey! At least they ate our complete asshole of a commander. Technically we SHOULD be getting a new one... but we were told to make do. Same with all the OTHER critical roles currently empty.

The DICK.

Like? I know he wants to drag out the war and maximize suffering for Evil Not-Sith, Off Brand Space Wizards Of EVIL Powers? But like? Fffffuck yoooou, dude. What the hell. Hope he stubs EVERY toe, always.

The Clones deserve better then this. The SECOND the war is over? I'm stealing Headshot. Fuck this "property of the state" bullshit. Just me 'n him, man. We could go explore the wilds. Or get him a beard and fake glasses. Clone? What clone! This is my BROTHER, Headshot. Our parents were gun-toting hippies. My names Moonrock. Fuck off, maybe. Keep walking.

The second I see him cross the base threshold, I switch over to Droid command. They can't hold my shift forever, but for a bit? Should be fine.

Jogging down the hall and sliding down a few ladders, I finally catch sight of Headshot as he leaves the staging area. Oof. That is a LOT of eel blood. The cleaning bots are cursing up a storm as they follow him. Even from the other end of the hallway... he smells... ripe.

I give him a second to lead the way and for the bots to work behind him. Then join in the little parade. Ah, eel goo. The third worst thing that could come out of going outside. Right behind losing a limb or dying. But hey! I restocked the soaps for ya!

"Doesn't change that it's on my everywhere, Commander."

Oooooh~ breaking out the COMMANDER are we? Is that SASS I hear? Snark perhaps? Why HEADSHOT! Such insubordination~! What EVER shall I do?

He snorts and suggest something anatomically impossible as he gestures to the shower rooms door. I tap it open for him. Goo boy that he is. Grinning I follow and find a bench where I can sit so my back is to him. It... used to be weird, to be honest, this level of living in each others pockets. But time and isolation has eroded a lot.

Clones don't really see boundaries like everyone else. Don't have the same taboos or unspoken social rules. After all... they're all the same gender. Were forced to live basicly in a breadbox with each other. The culture that developed reflects that. And I? Am more of a follower then a "type A". Not passive by any stretch of the imagination, just... eh.

I don't have the social outgoing-ness? I guess? To drag the culture of our base towards MY social norms as opposed towards his. It made him comfortable. I shrugged and went okay. Rinse and repeat. To be honest I was just glad he trusted me enough to SHARE.

Booting up my definitely-not-a-tablet, (which is of course, STUFFED full of various bits of sci-fi technology that only half makes sense) I once again try and connect to the wider army's mainframe. Nothing. I've BEEN trying for weeks now. But for some reason? We're cut off.

No new commands. No new forms to fill. No demands for information.

No UPDATES on what the FUCK is HAPPENING out there.

I'm... not gonna lie, getting nervous. We're a listening outpost. Some of our information is time sensitive. And our SUPPLIES are not infinite. Forget food, if we run out of AMMO? Those nightmare snake-eel THINGS will... Look, long and short of it? I've got an "empty" blaster shoved under my bunk. Two shots left. And compared to the slow, SLOW digestion and meat threshing teeth those horrors have?

At least it's FAST.

But I would REALLY prefer we NOT fucking come to that, you know? That someone would fucking PICK UP. Or? I don't know!? Notice we're offline? Whatever the problem is! The fact that we've gone dark is SPOOKING the fuck out of me.

Not to mention? That even BEFORE communication went down? The chat rooms and update boards weren't making a whole lot of sense. Lot of clone specific references that I didn't get. Memes, maybe? I don't KNOW and that's the part that's killing me. I had no way to CHECK. It all just... went dark.

We're still GETTING data. But? We can't seem to SEND it. Headshot and I checked. I checked the droids while he got the dish and other external devices. Clambering around the roof with his sniper rifle like a well armed, circus trained, mechanic. Nothing was wrong with the droids. And according to Headshot? Nothing was wrong with the dish.

After a while I gave up. Again.

Reminded myself to practice my meditative breathing. In... out... IN... OUT... do NOT trough your only Data Tablet. You'll break it. You can't REPLACE it. It might FEEL satisfying in the moment... but it's Not Worth It. Just listen to the sound of the running water. The quite of the room. Breathe... unclench your jaw, make your muscles relax, c'mon you can do this.

Fuck, I needed my anti-anxiety meds. But we were starting to ween me off them so I didn't go cold turkey when we ran out. It was fucking with my head. But, hey! At least I wouldn't run the risk of seizures! Or any suicidal ideation! No, just slowly building anxiety, in this, History's Most Stressful Outpost.

The shower shut off behind me. Leaning forward to grab a towel from the stack, I tossed it blindly over my shoulder. Heard him catch it. Wet feet slapping quietly against tiles as he walked forward, drying himself. From the feel of droplets and heat, looming just behind me? He was leaning over my shoulder. The man always did like to damn near boil himself in the shower.

"Still nothing? We've run out of D6 bolts. Not to mention your meds..." He commented, still drying off. I could feel the occasional brush of a towel. A bare arm reached over my shoulder to tap at the screen. "Have you tried...? Shit."

He tried several commands. Leaning over me, damn near cradling the back of my head against his bare chest. But nothing worked. Plopping his chin down on the top of my head, he casually wrapped his arm around my shoulders, leaning his weight on me as he considered the problem. The fans kicked in overhead, dehumidifing and hopefully preventing any sort of alien molds.

I told him to go put on some fuckin pants, before he frozen something he might miss off.

With an amused snort he stood and wandered over to the armor cleaner. Grabbing a new undersuit. Blacks went on, armor freshly de-goo-d, he called that he was presentable once more. I swung my legs over the bench. No need to stand, after all, if we're not leaving yet. Besides, exhaustion was a symptom of the withdrawals. Med changes are a BITCH.

Just as I was about to suggest anough brainstorming session, though?

Our comms both ping. LOUDLY.

That's the emergency signal from the control room. SHIT. I'm up and running before the sound even fades. Headshot right behind me. Not so much because he can't out run me, as he'd stop to grab his weapons as was bringing up the rear. Guarding my back. I prayed, PRAYED, this wasn't an attack. We were supposed to be a fourteen person team.

There were TWO OF US.

We'd never be able to hold the line. Would DIE here. Fuck, I didn't even have time to get that gun! I should have been carrying it. It had been too morbid. But... but...!

I slam into the control room. Headshot a half step behind. The droids frantically churning away. Okay. Okay! What's happening? A ship, big one, in orbit. Oooooh fuck. How Big? I ask. Am informed? "Wipe us from the face of the galaxy" Big. Ha ha! FUCKING FANTASTIC. Great! Merry fucking Christmas to me, I guess! Okay. Okay!

Let's DO this.

Get on the short range ship comm, (never thought I'd USE it but here we fucking ARE) and ask, politely, for them to Fucking Identify Themselves. (Because we have Big Guns and are NOT afraid to use um!)

There is a long tense moment. Then? Oh thank merciful FUCK. A Clone's voice comes on the line. General Spark of the 153rd, in pursuit, they're here to catch traitors and resupply if we need anything. Permission to land a few ships?

I. Could. WEEP.

Yes! Oh, ABSOLUTELY yes! Whoever they're chasing picked a REALLY stupid planet to hide out on, not gonna lie. They'll be picking their traitors up in PIECES. But? Never has a voice been more beautiful. Send Techs! You have FULL use of the outpost General! Welcome!

Setting the droids to navigating the incoming ships safely through landing, I all but DRAG Headshot towards the landing pad. People! Actual, real, PEOPLE! Supplies! Oh thank FUCK! We might be able to figure out what wrong with our relays! Get NEWS! And? That was a CLONE GENERAL!!!

That NEVER happens!

I can practically feel my self vibrating with excitement. Bouncing slightly on the balls of my feet, as the ships come in for a landing. The officers that roll out are all clones. Their armor more personalized then I've ever seen it. It's BEAUTIFUL. I can't help but lean over and whisper to Headshot, saying as much. Wondering if we can get him some of the supplies they must of used.

You know, assuming he WANTS any of um.

If not? Dibs.

His shoulders are shaking. Why are-? One of the officers thanks me for the compliment. Headshot you SON OF A SUBSTANDARD VAT. Was your SHORT RANGE MIC ON!? Why would you not-!? Bastard! Dead to me! Sorry general, I've never met this man before in my LIFE. Couldn't introduce if I TRIED.

Still! High ranking clones? We love to see it. I am THRILLED. It's been long over due.

Dooooesn't mean we should hang out in Eel Country though. Everybody INSIDE! Let's goooo. Nice and safe, where no ones getting eaten, m'kay? Thank you! And yes! I DO have a list of resupply needs! A LONG list. Starting with my meds, followed by ammo. Though honestly they're tied at first...

As me and the, now rather concerned, medic chat about the collapsing state of our highly rationed medical supplies? Headshot and the General are off to the side... talking about... something. Not sure. Probably not important, or he'd include me. I show the medic our "infirmary" and medical charts. Then get pulled away by the mechanic.

I barely get to SEE Headshot over the next two days. Forget sitting down. The only breaks I get? Meals and lights out. It's kinda awesome. Exhausting, yes, but? After so long isolated? It's a good type of exhausted. The sort where you feel like? For ONCE? You're actually being productive.

There are SO MANY eel burrows to scan? Potential landing sites? And all the MAINTENANCE? Dear merciful FUCK. Literally everything is out of date and cheap as BALLS. Held together with shoe strings and a prayer. But finally! FINALLY! Someone in budgeting GIVES A SHIT!!! Better equipment! Actual medical supplies! Real bedding! And best of ALL?

AIs! As in Actual, information sorting, artificial intelligences!

Because there literally hasn't been a REASON for humanoids to do this job for CENTURIES aside from a misplaced sense of superiority and distrust of droids! All WE need to do? Is stay on base and make sure THEY don't go rogue or break down from the extended isolation! Woooo desk job!

I'm gonna name um. They shall be my BABIES.

That said? None of this? Is very... Off Brand Sith-y. Little too "cares about their fellow man"-ish, you know? And... I'm not stupid. Excited as FUCK, for all the supplies and new changes... but not? Stupid. Blind.

They're keeping me away from the control room.

Keeping me out of important discussions. Sending me off on errands. All of which? SEEM important. ARE important, on the surface, but hide the fact that they are intentionally scheduled? Just as Certain Things Are Discussed. I am being... handled. Like a child. A fool.

When I confront Headshot? In our bunkroom, which we've shared for YEARS at this point. Slept just across from each other, so this lonely hell might feel just a little less empty? So when the dark thoughts creep in? That we might die in this God forsaken place, forgotten by the universe, left to ROT here, and wouldn't it just be easier to-? Someone there, so we won't. So we still matter.

He stands across from me. In OUR place. OUR room.

And FUCKING LIES.

......I guess I know where I stand, huh? And I know... I KNOW, I shouldn't feel betrayed. Clones come first, always. That's the party line. How they survived. I'm a Nat. There was always a power imbalance between us. I would always have been held just that bit further away then one of the brothers. Guess... guess it just finally happened.

I shouldn't feel betrayed. I have no RIGHT to feel betrayed.

But I do.

Headshot looks alarmed, hands twitching at his side, even as he tries to maintain his facade. Nothing's happing. They aren't doing anything. Right. Uh huh. His lie sits between us like a field of broken glass. The words, the arguments, I'd been looking for now seeming so useless. What's the point? He's made his decision.

I feel like crying. Don't want to talk anymore.

Good NIGHT, Headshot.

In the morning, I don't bother asking. I know he notices. Is waiting, restless, for us to continue on as we always have. We always check schedules after all. But what's the point? He'll lie. Instead I pull my armor on and go. Go to your brothers, Headshot. Whatever's happening here, I'm clearly not trusted enough to be part of it.

I just get out of your way.

There's a lot of busy work on my schedule, but honestly? The new AIs are learning to handle it. Instead, I head down to the new supply crates. Grab some bedding. A cart. Then head back. Pack up my shit. I just... can't.

Moving it all to a different bunk, I still have most of the day left to go. Could...? Probably? Check out if we actually DO have space rats? The droids have been reporting dust and noise in the basement, near the food stores. So likely vermin of some kind. Gonna be horrifying to find out what kind of vermin exsist HERE, but better then nothing, I guess.

Grabbing one of the better ration bars to shove in my face on the way to the gun locker, I count it a breakfast. Everyone's busy with a clone only meeting. Good for them, I guess. Not upset with General Spark or his men, I realize, as I check over the gun, no... just Headshot. Because he hurt me.

All he had to say was "I can't tell you." Or "trust me" and I WOULD have. But no. He LIED. To my FACE. And now? Now I feel like I'm waking around with shards of glass where my heart should be. Like I want to hit something. I need a distraction. So down to long term storage I go.

Normally? It's only droids down here. I have to ride a cramped little maintenance elevator lined with blast doors. You know, incase Satan's favorite pet somehow burrows in. The fuckers. It's also freezing. Which, I mean? Great for food storage, not so much for thermal regulation.

The level is eerie quiet.

Which.... huh. That's? Not right.

I reach for my comm before pausing. The hurt in my chest throbbing. I know I shouldn't let it get in the way of professionalism. Of protocol. The rules are there for a reason. To keep us alive and safe. But... God, I don't want to hear his fucking voice right now. I might cry. Say something I don't mean and regret later. You don't LAST long, isolated out in Hellpit, Nowhere, without doing a little soul searching.

Mortifying ordeal of being known and all that.

My hand drops. It's fine. I'm FINE. There's nothing down here. Or, well, should be nothing down here. We'll find out.

Slowly moving forward, I begin to check the stacks. I don't see any of the droids. Don't HEAR any of them. There should be at least thirty down here. But all I hear? Is the circulation fans. The sound of my foot steps. Something isn't right.

It's a loose, half melted screw in the path that saves me. At first I think it's a bug. But the quite clink when my foot nudges it is unmistakable. It makes me look sideways. There, a cleaning droid, cut down from behind. Tiny little mechanical claws still reaching out to claw itself to safety. Wheels shredded. The marks of a lazer blade are unmistakable.

The hiss-hum even more so.

I BARELY dodge.

Half my gun, simply sheared away. Molten slag dripping from the cut point, the battery already violently destabilizing ask it's nicked. I throw it, before I have the chance to lose a limb. The blast takes out a crate. I'm thrown. Barely roll in time to dodge the downward stab of the hissing blade. A brutal, magic-enhanced, kick sends me flying.

Straight through a stack of ration crates, into a wall mounted medical case. I land among the corpses of the droids. Each, a picture of terror and betrayal. I don't understand what's happening. The blades not red or black! It's blue! That's a not-jedi! Right?! Why are they!? Crates are lifted into the air. Threatening to smash down and bury me alive.

Can't move. Something twisted, badly, in my leg. My chest burning. Something cracked, I could feel it. I'm gonna die. Oh good, I'm gonna DIE.

"Wait! She's not a clone!"

I stare up into the face of the so called "good guys" and feel nothing but terror. Around me, the pieces of thirty droids I'd named and known, dead and dumped like trash upon the ground. Flower with his fussy need to have everything just so, Chirp who loved to sing, Mouse with the wheel I could never get to stop squeeking.

Nothing but Cannon fodder.

They died so afraid.

"Oh! You're right! Sorry! I thought you were one of those 'peating bastards. Are you okay? How long have they held you?" The Knight said. His Apprentice nodding eagerly.

My brain was static. Empty. Held? Slurs? W-what in God's name? I stayed down. Feeling small, lost, and confused. Pain rocking my body from being thrown around. The Apprentice, at least, seemed to pick up on the fact that I had no idea what the fuck they were on about.

"Ah. You don't know what's happened." She said sympathetically. It would be nicer, if she hadn't stood back while I was hurt, before they got around to asking who's side I was on. "The Clones betrayed the Republic. Took it over by force. They've made an empire. They killed the old Chancellor, who was Fallen, but then instead of handing the Republic back to the people? Kept it! Said we couldn't be trusted with it."

The last part was said mockingly. As though everyone and their brother hadn't been aware the Republic was on the brink of collapse. Corruption at an all time high. As though that same Republic hadn't been using the Clones as a SLAVE ARMY.

Slaves do tend to take exception to their chains, historically.

I wasn't really sure why the fuck they were surprised.

"Now come on, you can join the Rebellion. You must know all sort of information, from sitting out here, right? You can-!"

Click.

My helmet went full dark and internal audio only. Which was interesting because I still could barely move. But then bright light and sound, popped and cracked not to far away from my head. A flash grenade. And I finally, FINALLY? Remembered that all standardized armor? Comes with in built life support feeds.

Headshot's mystery meeting was in the command room... where my life sign readout would be. The life support feedback. Real time monitoring from me getting my ass kicked and WHERE.

A hand grabs the drag handle built into each armor, for EXACTLY this reason, and I feel my self pulled out of the danger zone. Can hear heavy, open fire. Shit. There goes our supplies. My helmet clears and I recognize the shoulder I've been careful thrown over. Headshot. He came.

He falls back at some signal I can't see. Straight to the elevator.

The shoulder under me is shaking, just slightly. Adrenaline, fear, anger. I can't tell. But... I... I'm...

"Don't." His voice is rough. Choked out through gritted teeth. His grip just carefully loose enough not to bruise. It seems to be taking everything he has. "You don't get to die. Do you understand me? You're not ALLOWED to die. Not now. Not ever. We didn't survive this long for you to leave me now."

He barely waits long enough for the door to open. Stride smooth and desperate as he races us towards the medic. I rest my head against his shoulder and breathe. Let myself be manhandled. Ha ha... a-at least? I know what he's keeping from me now. So there's that. Ow. Oh god.

The medic has to put me under. Bone fragments.

I drift.

Wake up, bandaged to hell and back, in ou-... in Headshot's bunkroom. Across from the empty bunk that used to be mine. Bed's softer then it should be, still smelling like Headshot. We haven't had the new sheets long enough. Knowing him, he probably stacked um.

The door opens. Headshot stalks in, dragging a cart behind him. His usual "pleasantly amused by life" expression nowhere to be seen. Instead? His expression is... blank. A determined, almost violent, edge to the set of his shoulders.

In silence, I watch as he unloads the cart. Bedding, knickknacks, the various bit of cobbled together wall art. All carefully stuck right back where it had been before. As though he had memorized the proper location of each and every piece. Even as he worked, with his back to me, every line of his body was daring me to be dumb enough to argue.

I didn't want too. I was just... just fucking tired.

Didn't like that we were arguing. If that was even what we were doing.

"Why?" I asked. Summing up everything and distilling it. Why didn't you just fucking TELL me? Why didn't you TRUST me? Why did you think I'd turn on you? Why would you lie? Why were we cut off? Was it REALLY a technical error? Why take the Republic? Why ANY of this?

Just... WHY, Headshot? Please...

"I refuse to lose you. When the war ended, you were going to leave. You said you'd take me with you... but honestly? That was naive. There would be no where safe we could ever go. We all knew that. We all had favorites." He finally stopped organizing my bed. Instead, smoothing down the sheet. Running both hands across it as he stared down, unseeing. "It was all so unorganized. Filthy. They treated us like DIRT. But we were... we ARE better. Designed to be superior. Stronger, smarter, faster. More durable. Why were we listening to them?"

"Then we found out why. Control chips in the brain. The nervous system. Carefully hidden, yes. But not carefully enough. You weren't authorized, you know. I'm glad. If you had been? I'd never have forgiven you. You'd never know you were dead before you died. But... I promise."

"I would have made it fast." His smile was a terrible thing. All broken edges and betrayal. Teeth upon teeth. A mania finally set free.

"Never thought those hypocrites would run here. Expect us to die for them. The happy little slaves. For the glory of THEIR Republic. You'll be okay, Commander. The General's agreed to stay until your back on your feet, just in case."

Headshot slides onto the bunk, sitting at my side, sweetly brushing hair from my face as though he hasn't lost his god damned mind. He's the picture of relief, now that there's no more secrets between us. Now that I'm injured and dependent on his help. Yet... it's teetering.

As though at any minute...

He could slide into some... unhinged state of mind. How LONG has he been on his last thread? Barely holding together? He leans forward and my mind goes utterly still. His lips pressed gently against mine. Chaste. Sweet. A warm, calloused hand, cradling my poor bruised cheek.

"I promise we'll stay together." He whispers against my stunned mouth. Eyes intent and mad, utterly loving. Like a strangers. "I won't let them seperate us. Not for anything. Now that it's done? We can be assigned anywhere. I'll take you with me. War's over, love. We're finally free."

Were we?

[earthtooz]

x : SAY YES TO ME :*+ﾟ

in which: itoshi rin tastes like grape soju, temptation, and adoration, all in one.

warnings: -16 DNI, 2k words, gn!reader, jealous!rin, ANGST but with happy ending, making out, alcohol, reader and rin are in their 20s, party setting, slightly toxic dynamic but it's bc rin's emotionally constipated, swearing.

a/n: thank u @scarahearts for sitting with me through this abomination from 0 to 2000, i started at midnight <33 it is now... we don't speak abt it. don't be like me. anyways, rblgs appreciated and enjoy!!

itoshi rin is seething.

standing in the corner of the dingy, overrated house party, rin overlooks the partygoers with an expression of distaste whilst nursing a bottle of grape soju. it’s hot, he’s sweaty, and all rin wants to do is leave- but he can’t, because you’re here. 

but you’re talking to some random who should be him, and what’s worse is that said random is far too close to you for his liking.

rin can sense their underlying motivations. knows that because of how they’re looking at you, they want you all to themselves. knows that the way they run their hand through their hair is an attempt of trying to lure you in. knows that the many unnecessary, fleeting touches was to hint towards turning this into something more- rin doesn’t even want to think about it.

“hey, rin!” a voice yells from beside him, bypassing the thumping music. isagi materialises beside him, red solo cup in hand. “are you enjoying the party?”

“fuck off, isagi,” the dark-haired murmurs harshly, not even sparing his fellow soccer player a glance. isagi, who was about to refute rin with a confused exclamation, shuts his mouth and notices the intensity of rin’s glare. 

following his gaze leads to where you stand and through the wild strobe and disco lights, isagi spots your figure and someone else beside you- someone he doesn’t know. putting two and two together (his specialty), isagi works out whatever is wrong with rin rather quickly.

“when will you say something about your feelings for y/n?” he asks. 

rin pretends not to hear him because he wishes he didn’t.

“you’re a fucking idiot, rin, you know that?” 

“what.”

isagi hides his smile of amusement, biting the inside of his cheek. “i said it. are you seriously going to stand here and be miserable over someone talking to y/n when you’ve had so many chances?”

“what are you talking about, dumbass.”

“sure. call me the dumbass, at least i don’t pretend like i don’t care about someone i like.”

rin finally breaks his gaze from you, whipping his head to look at isagi with an offended glare. “huh?”

“you heard me. what are you scared of?” 

the younger out of the two pauses, staring emotionlessly at isagi before scoffing, taking a quick sip from the bottle in his hand and wiping the corner of his lips. “you wouldn’t get it.”

“get what? y/n is into you too, you have made out before on several occasions, so what are you so scared of?” 

rin is silent once again as his thoughts diverge to you- to everything about you that rin has committed to memory and his heart stutters at the mere intervention. even now, in the most pathetic party he’s ever attended, he can’t help but want you.

in fact, here he wants you even more, but isagi doesn’t need to know that.

“leave me alone, fuckhead.”

isagi frowns, knowing that this conversation was not going to go anywhere. if rin is immovable when sober, then it’ll be impossible to change his mind drunk.

“fine,” he huffs. “don’t cry to me about it when y/n finds someone else when that could have been you.”

his words hit a nerve and rin almost drops the bottle in his hands. the dark-haired awakens with a sudden urgency that was previously dormant, suddenly overcome with fear and dread at the idea that isagi has planted within his head.

stupid isagi. fuck that piece of shit. rin hopes he trips and twists his ankle so-

“rin?”

you’re looking at him, and fuck, suddenly he’s away from the corner and standing right in front of you and he doesn’t know what to do. the random looks at him with a repulsive look, clearly unhappy with the sudden intervention, however, there’s no time to think about them when you’re right in front of him, looking at him so concerned and curious.

you’re so gorgeous, it’s unfair. 

“what’s the matter?” you ask. rin hears you over the reverberating bass, it’s easy to when all he’s thinking about is you.

“got a problem?” the stranger parrots, puffing out their chest like some peacock. rin thinks they look stupid.

glancing back at you, he simply mutters a ‘need you’ that you don’t even hear, before grabbing your wrist and pulling you out of your seat. apart from a few sputters of surprise, there’s no complaint or resistance as he expertly navigates through the halls as if it were his property.

weaving past dozens of partygoers, your mind races in synchronisation with the wild beating of your heart; the only thing grounding you to reality was the firmness of rin’s grip.

when he, somehow, finds an empty hallway that’s secluded from where the majority of people are, he turns around to give you a frazzled look that is swimming with determination. 

then, his hands grab your face to pull you in. 

all of a sudden, his lips are on yours and all you know is him, him, him. rin is moving like he’s done this before- because he has. he has traced the expanse of your body and lips several times before in scenarios just like this, kissing you breathless with dizzying passion and unparalleled desire. he tastes like grape soju and your greatest mistake. 

it’s easy to melt into him, especially when he’s slotting himself against you so perfectly with one hand holding the back of your head and the other on your hip as he carefully leads you backwards. your back hits the cold wall, shielded by his hands, and the hiss of surprise you let out is inhaled by him.

recovering quickly, your arms snake up to wrap around his neck, eliminating any space between the two of you to mould yourselves into one- even if it was just for the night. 

rin parts, heavy pants fanning on your skin as he proceeds to trail kisses along your jawline. he presses his lips so tenderly against your vulnerable skin, a stark contrast to the burning fervour of his previous kiss. 

you wonder when you will stop falling victim to his siren call. 

this was the first time he’s ‘spoken’ to you since you walked in to the party, having ignored your smile and wave of greeting from across the room despite very clearly meeting your eyes. the soccer player in your arms even had the gall to turn around and walk away as if you were some nobody, retreating into the kitchen. his indifference stings and yet, whenever he pulls a stunt like this, you welcome it every time.

when will you finally be able to push him away?

noticing the way you’ve stilled in his grasp, rin pauses and takes his head out of your neck, looking up at you.

“what’s the matter?” he breathes, voice quiet and raspy. 

you push at his shoulder lightly and he loosens his hold, just a little. “we shouldn’t do this,” you murmur, avoiding his teal eyes. 

he flinches like your words burned him. no- you shouldn’t give yourself too much credit, you could never have that much impact on itoshi rin, not like the one he’s had on you.

readjusting yourself, you try to gently coax yourself out of his hold.

“what do you mean?” he questions.

you can’t breathe under the pressure that rin naturally exudes, coupled with the uncontrollable and uncomfortable racing of your heart, it’s almost impossible to breathe. “i mean,” you continue, “that i can’t do this. not with you, not tonight.” 

the dark-haired blinks once, twice, thrice, suddenly filled with a bout of sadness looking at your dejected stance. “y/n?”

“i can’t do this,” you echo, slowly, but surely, distancing yourself away from rin; from the man who has claimed your heart almost a year ago, from the man who has made you feel magical and unreal and disheartened and defeated, all at the same time.

“i like you too much for this to just continue on every time,” you ramble, running a hand down your face. “i can’t be used like this anymore. you know how i feel about you, rin, i know you do, and yet you do this every time.” your voice cracks. “so i’d appreciate it if you just left me alone.”

somehow, rin finds his arms empty and you’re now walking away, back turned to him and hunched, as if protecting your heart from further destruction at his hands. seeing you so uncharacteristically fragile and unlike the you he knows is a punch to the stomach, and the idea of breaking you makes him feel even worse. 

“wait- y/n, please,” he calls, catching up with a few, effortless strides. the soccer player reaches for your shoulder only to have you brush him off. “where are you going?”

you don’t answer.

“what do you mean ‘this’, what do i do every time?”

you turn around to face him. “you go from caring about me to ignoring me to then pulling stunts like this- i’m sick of it, itoshi!” your tone is accusatory and angry. rin gulps. “then you make me question whether or not you like me too, sometimes it feels like you do, then other times it feels like i’m the least important person to you in the world- what is up with that? i’ve had enough!”

the soccer player opens his mouth, hesitating, before shutting it again, unclenching his jaw and fists.

“i do like you,” the dark-haired murmurs after a moment of collecting his thoughts. he feels awkward; so out of place with confronting his emotions and problems like this. “i don’t want anyone but you.” 

rin’s voice wavers towards the end of his sentence. with the harsh house lights illuminating all of him, he feels even more exposed under your gaze. 

you cross your arms. “sure doesn’t feel like it.” 

he’s silent and it’s devastating how impassive he is, especially in the aftermath of your little outburst.

“whatever,” you huff. “i’m going home.”

“wait- don’t go,” rin pleads, voice echoing around the halls and he cringes at the deafening silence that follows. “i’m sorry. i’ve been… selfish.”

your eyes widen slightly. rin? apologising? acknowledging his faults? 

he recalls seeing you with the stranger and all the fury he felt during that moment. what right did he have to simply grab you and pull you with him? what right did he have to drag you away like you were his? “i shouldn’t- i shouldn’t have- i’m sorry, i had no right to do what i did, you’re not mine, but i want you- i really do and-”

“-then why aren’t you acting on it? you know how i feel yet nothing happens- why won’t you say yes to me?”

tentatively and hesitantly, rin takes a few steps towards you, opening his arms. you fall right into him, seeking solace in the warmth of his embrace and the scent of his cologne. 

you sigh. “i’m tired, rin.”

“i know, i’m sorry,” he rubs circles on your back. tests his luck by pressing a chaste kiss to your head. “another chance. don’t give up on me yet. please.” he whispers the last word as if it were a delicate promise- as if one wrong move could break you.

“i won’t.” you take your head out of his chest, looking at him with glossy eyes. “but this is definitely the last chance.”

“okay.”

“can you kiss me. please?” 

a small smile dances along rin’s expression and he nods before slowly leaning down, giving you enough time to push him away if you so pleased, but you don’t. instead, you let him press his lips against yours once more.

this time, it’s more gentle and slow. he tastes like love and hope with a dash of grape soju.

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[jokeringcutio]

Art the Clown x Reader Drabble "Giving Birth to Art's Baby" [ EXPLICIT, Gore]

AN: Nobody asked for this. Summary: If Reader had Art’s baby. (or: You realize you're fucked, birthing a demon's child, but get a bright idea while doing so)

Warnings: Explicit content (Blood/Murder/Birth), Demon!Art, Demon!kid, Cannibalism/Placenta eating. Mentioned Forced Impregnation. Reader gives birth. Reader tries to survive. Reader lives by the end of this chapter. You have Art’s look-a-like baby (not just his head. An actual kid).

The sterile whiteness of the hospital room blurred into a canvas of dread as they told you to push. "You can do this," the nurse said, her voice a harsh command against the silence of your unborn child's heart—a silence that had been haunting you since labor began. The monitors sang no lullaby of life; instead, they hummed a dirge for the creature stirring inside, the one you knew bore no resemblance to a human babe.

"Push!" she insisted, but something primal within you recoiled. Your mind reeled, images of the ultrasounds flickering like a horror show behind your eyes—those glimpses of something otherworldly, something that twisted the midwives' faces into masks of confusion and fear. You felt it squirming, an alien presence in the sanctuary of your womb. Its head, too large, its limbs, too sharp—you remembered the cold gel on your belly and the screen showing a chest empty of a beating heart and a skull with teeth that no other baby ever had.

The images had filled you with nightmares.

"Push, damn it!"

With each word from her lips, you were torn further between the instinct to expel the abomination and the unnatural maternal pull towards the thing you carried. It looked slightly human, yes, but there was no pulse, no thrumming of life—just the void where a heartbeat should echo.

"Push, or we'll lose you both!"

Your muscles clenched, a symphony of pain rippling through you as you fought to obey, to be rid of the living death inside. You tried to calm the tempest in your chest, telling yourself over and over, "I can do this."

Then he invaded your thoughts—Art, the demon, the clown in black and white, a mockery of joy and laughter. His teeth, those sharp instruments of terror, flashed in your memory, evoking the night of unspeakable horror when he had claimed you. Should you have fought him harder? Should you have shouted or cried? His touch was a brand, his seed the poison that grew into the monstrosity within.

You had recognized the shape of the baby’s skull the instant the ultrasound had shown it. His teeth. His head. His heartless frame.

Mass murderer and psycho on the run. A clown who never spoke and was never caught. A criminal the police claimed to have killed time after time again, yet he kept returning. You weren’t stupid. You knew he was no ordinary man, had seen and felt him up close, had lived through carrying his offspring and felt its tiny hands like claws inside your womb.

"Push! I see the head!"

Your scream tore through the air, a battle cry against the violation that had led to this moment. With a guttural cry, you bore down, every fiber of your being straining to bring forth the offspring of darkness. The nurses leaned in, their faces etched with morbid curiosity and professional detachment.

"More! Now!"

And you did. You pushed past the fear, the revulsion, and the anguish. You pushed because surrender was not an option. The child of Art, the silent clown with the soulless bright eyes surrounded by circles of dark, was coming, and you would face it, even as it threatened to tear you apart.

"Head's out!"

The words cut through the fog of your agony, and for a brief, impossible moment, hope flickered. But it was a fool's hope, born of pain and desperation. For what lay between your thighs was neither dead nor alive, neither human nor wholly other. It was the unholy union of your flesh and Art's demonic whimsy, born into a world that would never understand its existence.

"Keep going, you're almost there!"

That nurse's voice, so insistent, so devoid of the horrors that awaited, spurred you on. And you pushed again, into the unknown, into the nightmare made flesh.

The sterile chill of the delivery room clawed at your senses, but nothing could compare to the icy grip of fear that seized your heart. The nurse's declaration was a death knell, ringing hollow in your ears.

"Oh no, look at that color,” she breathed out, her words a ghost lingering in the air. The child’s head was as white as the sheets you were birthing on.

Your gaze fixed on the writhing mass that now slipped free from your body, its skin as white as untouched snow, not a shade of life to be found. Terror danced in the nurse's eyes as she caught the creature you had birthed, fully convinced to hold a stillborn child.

But then it turned its head towards her, lips pulled back in a macabre grin, black and white painted across its face like a twisted replica of Art's mime visage.

It was as you had feared it would be. Any hope you had held that your baby might come out all rosy and normal faded like ice under the sun.

"God!" The nurse recoiled, hurling your offspring onto the bed as if it were a viper.

"Easy! Easy!" You cried out. This was your child, your blood. And there was the little voice inside your head that whispered that Art wouldn’t die. No matter how many shots had been fired at him. No matter how many limbs had been cut off. The man still walked the earth, spreading death in silent joy wherever he went.

What if your child was the same? Already its heart wasn’t beating yet it seemed very much alive. Would throwing it away like its life meant nothing be the solution?

Adrenaline fueled your limbs, and with a grunt, you crawled toward the tiny form cast aside on the cold hospital linen. No. This was your baby too. No matter how evil, you would nurse it.

"Shh, shh," you soothed, half-mad with pain and wonder as your arms closed around the little body. Your hands trembled, cradling him close, the resemblance uncanny—Art's spawn, his legacy. Something soft dangled between the baby’s legs.

"Boy..." you whispered, the realization dawning upon you as you held him against your breast. The baby’s head instinctively sought for your nipple, his already long-grown teeth snapping as he sought.

The sight of his head filled you with terror, and you felt slightly sick to see the baby’s lack of lips and already blackened teeth. Bright eyes stared up at you, black circles around him. The first touch of his mouth to your skin was tentative, searching, before a sharp pain made you hiss. "No biting!"

He seemed to understand or perhaps heeded the command instilled in his dark lineage. You were grateful he started to suck next and didn’t bite your entire nipple off. You wouldn’t put it past him – not with what you had seen his father do and what you had read and heard in the news articles about him.

There amidst the blood and the shadows, you were bound to this child, this extension of a demon's desire, by cords thicker than fear, stronger than revulsion. In the silence that hung heavy, only your harsh breaths and the soft, wet suckling sounds filled the void.

Your arms ached, but you clung to him—the fruit of your womb and a monster's seed. The room spun slightly, the stark white tiles of the hospital room blurring as you focused on the tiny creature at your breast. His lips, so unlike a human’s and too far pulled back, painted in an unseen artist's black and white, suckled with an instinctual hunger.

"Sweetheart,” you tested the word, reassuring yourself that you could do this. That you had to use affectionate terms around him especially because he was the way he was.

A new plan formed in your mind.

If you could bring such true evil to the world, could you perhaps dampen it? You were pretty certain you could not undo it. You could not change a devil into an angel. But if you could not turn evil into good, could you perhaps guide it? Guide it away from harming innocents?

"You're mine," you murmured, studying the little baby in your arms. If not for the head, the child would have looked rather normal.

“My son,” you proudly said, testing the words whilst the nurses and doctors around you stood and watched. You heard their muttering and were vaguely aware of how one of the nurses had pushed an emergency button and alerted someone else in the building about what was going on.

Would they come and take your baby away from you? Would they want to try and murder him?

A fierce protectiveness was swelling within you. “I’ll protect you, sweetheart,” you reaffirmed, determination lacing the single word. “You are my son.”

Some of the nurses took a step back from the bloodied bed, their eyes still wide with disbelief. Behind them, the door burst open with a violence that made every eye swing toward it.

Art stood there, his silhouette like a twisted shadow from a child's nightmare. The nurse at the entrance reached for him. “Sir,” she said, eyes upon the garbage gab he carried over his shoulder. “These are sterile surroundings.” Her concern was cut short by the gleam of steel—a deft flick of Art's wrist—and she crumpled, a scream caught in her throat, blood blossoming on her uniform like a grotesque flower.

The doctor next to her cried out when a blade hit his legs, slashing through the clean white fabric until his shins bled. Another nurse to his side crumpled when Art passed her by, pushed over with blood on her pristine white clothes.

"Stop!" Your voice was a command, even as you recoiled. "Don't."

Art’s head cocked, you could tell he had heard your voice, but he didn’t listen. Whatever knife he had brought with him was launched to land in the middle of a nurse’s forehead, pinching her to the wall. He smiled broadly while he stepped up to the doctor’s tools to get a scalpel from them, obviously pleased with all the sharp things that were within his reach. He threatened to step forth to the Doctor who had already wounded legs and who had fallen to the floor. The man looked up at the demonic clown fearfully, tears in his eyes as Art raised the scalpel.

“Art, please,” you begged, “Don’t hurt them.”

It wasn’t your pleading that stopped him. But something else entirely. A low groan as finally, the afterbirth followed - a final, visceral release that marked the end of your gruesome trial.

His head cocked, the mime's unnerving silence punctuating the chaos he had wrought. He approached, eyes fixed on the bundle in your arms. Between your legs, the heap of blood and tissue drained the sheets. The baby’s umbilical cord was still attached to the placenta that had finally come out.

Art studied it. First, the writhing baby in your arms. He looked at it like he had never seen a newborn child before. He probably hadn’t, you thought. At least, not one of his own. The wonder was visible in those bright light eyes of his. The demonic toothy smile had turned into a black hole of wonder.

Then, the brightly shining eyes traced the umbilical cord and came to rest on the placenta. Something in his eyes changed, and he looked up at you, almost hungrily. His gaze softened then at the sight of his son again, and dirt-covered fingers reached out a few times, indicating he wanted to hold him but was too shy to grab the babe.

Your son’s eyes opened, recognizing his father. But he wouldn’t leave his meal. The teeth nibbled on your nipple while milk kept flowing richly, then bit down a little harder when you moved your arm – an indication that he did not want to be moved.

With a spidery grace, Art extended a hand, his fingers stretching toward his progeny. You tightened your grasp, feeling the peculiar warmth of your son against your flesh.

"Art," you began, voice quivering with a cocktail of fear and resolve. "He's feeding." You met those abyssal eyes, searching for understanding. "We need them alive—the nurses, the doctors. We might need their help..." Whatever could you say to keep him from killing these people? You raked your mind, thought desperately. And then it came out. Unbidden. "For next time."

A pause, and then a different kind of hunger flashed across his face. Another offspring? The idea hadn't crossed his twisted mind until you seeded it there. The possibility of creating more beings like this one, beings that belonged to both of you—it ignited something within him.

"Next time," you whispered, coaxing.

Art's attention shifted, drawn away by the glistening afterbirth on the bed. A grotesque curiosity morphed into action as he reached down, snatching it up with an eager hand. He snapped the umbilical cord with his teeth, igniting gasps throughout the room of the nurses and the doctor – all either petrified or too wounded to leave. You gave them all an empathic stare, a silent ‘I’m sorry’ while you watched as Art descended on his own meal.

The room filled with the sound of his silent feasting, a tableau of horror that paralyzed the surviving staff. They could only watch, too terrified to move, too horrified to look away.

"Good," you breathed, holding your son closer. "Focus on that. Let us be."

Surrounded by trembling bodies and the scent of iron and fear, you rocked gently, whispering promises into the velvet softness atop your son's head, promises of a world where he would never be alone—where he'd have a sibling to share the darkness with. And more importantly, a mother who would guide evil in ways that would save those she cared about. Herself included. ~ AN: This could be a full story, but I was lazy and only wrote the birthing scene. Might upload other parts that can go along with this as I have an outline. If you like my (gross) writing (style), consider following me or browse my masterlists (psst, there's more).

~~ Support me on Ko-Fi - Masterlist - Request Box ~~ The Full Tale: Art saw the pale girl, another of his kind, and realized that he wanted to be less lonely. Someone of his own kind, now that sounded nice. A kid of his own to play patty cake with? So he started looking for a potential carrier for his kid. You were cute, didn't run as hard, didn't make a sound when he tried to harm you. A quiet little human, about the size of the clown kid he had seen. You were perfect. Instead of killing you, he made sure you got pregnant. During the pregnancy, you kept seeing traces of him, found little gifts from the stranger who featured in your nightmares ever since.

You weren't stupid. You found out quite quickly that your clown is in fact the much sought-after murderer who comits the most horrible crimes under the name of Art. You have seen what he is capable of and dive into the archives researching him and his crimes. He seems to survive everything.

When the ultrasounds show you a distorted baby with no heartbeat, you know that you carry true evil inside of you. But getting rid of it is no option, as you can't kill what already seems to be dead. With no other fate, you have no option but to birth the monster's child. How you will handle things after, however, that is something you can influence. You will do anything in your power to survive. ~~

[pick-me-up-im-scared]

It’ll Be Our Little Secret (Hiccup x Reader) (Smut)

Author's Note: Hey! Hope you're ready to read a very steamy AND long 'Hiccup x Reader' fanfic. This was originally posted on Wattpad, but it kind of flopped. So I thought I would shoot my shot over here instead (since, from my understanding, people go a little crazier for smuts over here). Also, English isn't my first language so please excuse me if it isn't grammatically correct, or a sentence isn't built up right.

Short Summary: You have a crush on Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third, Chief of Berk. You can’t think straight. None of the other guys on your island can compare. The only issue is you’re the daughter of (y/f/n), Chief of (y/i/n). Berk’s enemy island. Though your crush on Hiccup only can play out in your fantasy, a knock at your door would change that?

⚠️Warning!⚠️: This story contains swearing and rough sexual acts. Not suitable for a younger audience!

(y/i/n) = your island´s name

Words: 3336

(I don't own any of the GIFs)

Your pov:

Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the third. Not really a popular name around here. Even though you didn't have anything against him personally, your islands wasn't really on good terms. This all started long before you were even born, so you didn't really know the exact reason as to why you hated each other so much. But you were taught that "anything from the island of Berk is equal to horse shit", and so your opinion remained... sort of.

After Stoick's death Hiccup inherited the title, which made him more of a foe in your eyes. Compared to him "just" being the Chief's son. Still you couldn't help but find him... attractive. Hey! You're a 18 year old girl. Boys starts to look quite appealing at this age. And after all he's kind of the only guy, around your age, you've meet frequently (thanks to your islands fighting each other on a regular basses). When you compared him to the other guys on your island, they're not even close. He's just perfect. Well, everything but his title. You know your "relationship" can only remain in your imagination. It's not really optimal to ask for your father's blessing to marry, the now, Chief of the island we abominate.

-

As you lay in bed, facing the wall, you hear the door open. By having such old doors the squeaking gives away any unwanted surprise visits. You began to wonder who it could be. You've already said your 'goodnights' to your parents before preparing for bed. After a lot of whining, your parents finally let you move in to your own hut. Their only 'but' was to have your hut being surrounded by guards 24/7. They didn't want to take any risks with everything that was happening at this island. But you didn't mind. You actually liked when they informed you who was approaching, even if it was your mother. It felt like you could have the privacy you wanted by moving out. That's why it's even more strange that non of the guards had told you about the guest that was now on their way inside your house.

You turned around and jumped as you saw who decided to give you a visit. Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III. What is he doing here? Isn't this the foremost guy they're suppose to make sure isn't strolling around the village? "I need to have a little talk to them about this" you thought as you rolled your eyes. But they quickly went back to the unwelcomed guest. "Uh, may I ask why you're in my hut?" you asked, rather confused as to why he hasn't tried to kill you yet. Hiccup dropped all his potential weapons on the ground before approaching you. Even the tiny dagger on one of his bracers was now laying a few meters from your bed. You watched him rather doubtful, wondering 'what the fuck is he doing?'. "I'm not here to hurt you" he said calmly before standing in front of your bed, "No weapons on me, so I hope you haven't got any either". Should I make a run for it? My parents´s hut is just a few meters away. If he catch up with me I've at least tried. Before you could make up your mind if you should take a chance or not he started petting the empty space beside you on the bed, not really trusting you no matter what your answer would be.

He soon went over to you, sticking his hands underneath the blanket and petting you from the thighs up to your neck, making sure you wasn't hiding any knifes underneath your clothes. "No weapons... and no panties either" you slapped him across the face. "What the hell are you doi-" you yelled out, but got cut off as Hiccup slam his hand over your mouth "Shh! Don't yell, someone could hear you!". You gave him the look that said 'duh, that's the point' and he let's go of your mouth. He continued "I want to make sure you aren't armed either. I just want to.... talk". You looked at him rather confused "What could you possibly want to talk to me about? How it is to be an only child of a Chief?" you joked, which allowed Hiccup to chuckle. "Maybe I phrased that wrong, but you'll see what I came here to do" he said while giving you a smirk. I swear to the gods, he's flirting with me.

"Let me just remove this to make sure you aren't hidding something first" Hiccup started to pull up your nightgown. He got to about your waist before you grabbed his hands, making him stop. The thought of him seeing you so bare, even if not in a sexual context, made you anxious. You looked inside his emerald green eyes, as if to find something that would tell you what to do. You've never been this close to him before, so this was your opportunity to scan his face for the first time. He had a few freckles, a scar on his chin, and what seem to be the early stage of a beard-growth. Without even thinking you placed your hand against his cheek, caressing it as Hiccup leaned in. As soon as you noticed you quickly snatched back your hand. Hiccup tugged at your dress again, as if to ask if it's okay. You raised your arms, making the progress of removing your nightgown a lot easier for him. Something about his face had made you calmer. Your nipples harden, reacting to the low temperature as he toss the piece of clothing at the floor. He looked at them in admiration but also noticed the necklace your father gave you, showing which island you belong to. "Can I touch them?" Hiccup asks as he push your hair back, allowing him to get a better view of your bare chest. "Only if I can remove these first" you answer, referring to his bracers. He nodded, thinking it's a fare trade. Hiccup watched your concentrated face as you loosen it up, eventually sliding it off. He tugged a strand of hair behind your ear with his, now bare hand as you worked on the other one.

You caress your hands over his body, admiring the armor that always seemed to turned you on so much. You would lie if you said you haven't thought of how it would feel grinding your naked body against it. Feel the leather and metal against your wet folds. The thought would help you when you were alone in bed, having some 'me'-time. Even though you wish he could keep it on, you helped Hiccup remove the upper part of his armor, leaving him shirtless. "Now we're even" you teased. He looked at you, grinning. Hiccup grabbed your breasts which made you gasp just by the touch. As he began to massage them you let out a few proper moans. "Are you a virgin?", you looked up at him, thinking "how rude" wondering why on earth he needed to know that. "You react quite intense at just the small amount of pleasure I'm giving you now. Virgins usually reacts quite hard at any sort of sexual stimulation, so that's why I asked". He seemed to notice your concerned face since he quickly filled in with "-but that's not bad" the panic was vibrant in his voice "It's actually very excitative". You nodded, answering his previous question. Hiccup flickered his tongue at both of your nipples, earning more moans from you. He went down your stomach, leaving sloppy kisses on his way there, keeping his eyes locked with yours. As he looked at you, seductively, you couldn't help but feel like this is wrong. This could ruin your family's name for generations if it would ever come out. Should I stop? Hiccup would stop if you asked him to, but the question is 'do I want it to stop?' After all, this is what you've been dreaming of. The senators you've made up in your head in order to get yourself off is actually happening. No way you're going to ruin this shot. Hiccup went up to your face again, this time only a few centimeters gap. You let out a shaky breath, starting to sweat just by the looks he gave you. Yep, this is really happening.

"Got any hidden weapons in here?" Hiccup asked, pulling at your underwear. You shrugged, acting stupid, really intrigued to see what he would do. "Well, I better inspect it" he teased before shoving his hand down your underwear. You gasped, feeling his slender fingers being so close to your core. He laughed as he felt the wetness you've already developed. "You really get turned on by this" he teased before removing your panties and threw them across the room. As your legs went down you squeezed your thighs together, feeling a bit self conscious again. Hiccup noticed "No, open up for me, princess. No need to act all shy now" he parted your legs, keeping some weight on your thighs to prevent you from pressing them together again. You, realizing this instead took your hands and covered the most private part. But Hiccup didn't let that get unnoticed, "Ah-ah" he said in a warning tone as he slapped your hand away. When he finally got to see all of you, he took a step back just to admire it. "You're so beautiful (y/n). I swear your a gift from the gods". You smiled at his generous words, trying your best not to blush too hard.

He massaged your thighs while moving his hands closer to your throbbing pussy. "You're basically dripping. I never knew you had a thing for me" he joked while looking down, between your legs. "You have no idea" you admitted. He looked up at you, not expecting that answer, "Well, then I'm not the only one who'll enjoy this". Hiccup dragged two fingers along your entrance, scooping up some of your wetness and brought it to his mouth. He licked his fingers clean, having full on eye contact with you as he does. Hiccup raised up from the bed, pulling down his trousers. Your eyes widen as you looked at his hard cock slapping against his stomach. Getting a bit worried about the penetration-bit. He seem to notice and went right in front of your bed, picking you up so you were on your knees by the edge of your bed. Knowing you're a virgin, Hiccup thought you might get less nervous if you get to feel him first. He grabbed you by the wrists, and dragged your hands over his body, starting by the shoulders going down to his chest. He moved your hands down past his bellybutton. When you began to feel his pubs you quickly went down to his thighs instead, not feeling ready to touch him there, just yet. Hiccup's breathing quicken as you worked your hands over his thighs, which intrigued you to go closer and closer to his area. You really wanted to hear him moan. Oh, how many times you've tried to imagine what sounds he makes. You saw his cock twitch as you came closer. He threw his head back, let out an extracted moan as you took him in your hand and began to jerk him off. He traced your other hand to his chest again. You continued till you reached his hair, tugging at his braids. You watched as he hummed at the new sensation while tighten his grip around your wrist. You pumped him harder, milking him on his moans. "T-that's... enough" Hiccup said, breathing heavily.

He pushed you down on the bed as he crawled up your body. He smirked, "Don't worry, I'll fill you up in a second" he said as he positioned himself at your entrance. You whined as he pushed his cock inside you slowly, while holding the back of your head. "You're doing so good, princess. You're being such a good girl" Hiccup said, not being able to hide his moans as your tightness surround his cock. You balled the sheets in your fists as he continued to push till he's fully in. He stayed in that position for a bit, both for you to adjust to his size, but also due to him not cumming straight away. After some reassuring Hiccup began to slide in and out of you, keeping the pace rather slow, not wanting to hurt you. "It doesn't get better" you said through clinged teeth. You've heard the first time would be quite painful, but not for this long. "Hold on, it'll be better soon, I promise" Hiccup reassured you while keeping the low pace. He caressed your cheek while kissing your neck, hoping it would help you to get used to it if you got something else to focus on. It helped. As soon you asked Hiccup to go a bit faster the pace soon increased.

Hiccup rested one of your legs on his shoulder, giving him better excess. He rammed into your body with such speed. You cried out Hiccup's name as he groaned while listening to you saying his name like that. You turned your head to the side, almost embarrassed to look at Hiccup. You didn't know why, but you felt as if you weren't allowed to look at him. He noticed and grabbed you by the chin, turning your head straight "Look at me while you let the enemy fuck your tight, virgin pussy!" he spat. You tightened around him at his words. "Huh? You like it when I fuck you like this? Knowing that Berk's Chief's cock is inside you. And know that with ever thrust, you abandon your people more *thrust* and more". You whined out in pleasure as he spoke to you. He smiled when he saw what effect his words had on you, "You like it, don't you?" you nodded intensely. He bent forward, grabbing you by the neck as he whispered in your ear "You've never let anyone get to feel you like this. But I didn't even have to ask before you spread your legs for me, like the little whore you are. What would the people of (y/i/n) say if they saw you now? Whimper as you let me take advantage of you. I don't think your father would be proud to..." Hiccup traced his fingertip over the charm of your necklace "...see you act like such a whore for me". "Tell me you're mine" he demanded. You were a breathing mess, really affected by Hiccup's dialogue. "I-I'm y-" you couldn't even finish the sentence before a moan interrupted you. "Say it!" he bayed, tighten his grip around your neck. "I-I'm yours, Hiccup. I'm your dirty little whore" you pled out. Hiccup smirked "Good girl. Finally one of (y/i/n)'s people can follow an order".

He pulled out, which made you look down. His cock was coated with your cum and a hint of blood. "Turn around" he demand, you raised up slowly as your whole body felt like jello. As you turned around Hiccup slammed your head against the mattress while your ass was high up. He traced his hand up your back to your waist, sending shivers down your spine. He took a firm grip on your fat before shoving his cock back into your pussy, making you screamed. Luckily the pillow muffed most of your sounds. "Oh, (y/n). You can't imagine how long I've been wanting to do this" Hiccup whines out while pounding into you. Your heart skipped a beat at his confession. He'd thought about you too? He continues to fuck you, keeping the same pace the whole time before slowing down, allowing you both to catch your breath. "Let's keep that other hole busy, too" Hiccup said while bending down towards his pants, picking up something. You tried to see what it was, but with no success. "With what?" your curiosity took over as Hiccup spat down your ass in lack of lube. "The back of my inferno. Let's see how much you can take" he said before pushing it slowly in your asshole. You winced at the cold metal entering you. You had to bite the side of your pillow in order to not scream while your untouched hole slowly got stretched out. "H-hiccup I... I can't take..." you plead out, feeling so filled up while still having Hiccup's cock in you, too. "Aw, sure you can" he pushed in the rest till you felt the cold metal of the dragon head around your opening. "See! You could fit the whole thing" Hiccup said proudly, petting your back while still slightly pushing the dragon head so the handle wouldn't slip out.

You tried to catch your breath. The feeling of both your holes being penetrated at the same time felt amazing. But when Hiccup picked up the same speed as before you could barely take it. You were moaning so loud you were surprised non of the guards came in to check what's going on. The pleasure mixed with Hiccup moaning your name made you so wet you could feel it dripping down your thigh. Every time Hiccup would slam his hips against you, you would be reminded of the handle as it was being push back in you. You continued your highly verbal way of showing how much pleasure you're feeling. Until Hiccup grabbed you by the neck, pressing your back against his chest and cover your mouth "I really appreciate your little orchestra, princess. But we can't risk anyone finding us, right?". You nod your head, while Hiccup keep his hand on your mouth. Even tough you've changed position the speed remind the same. You got to give it to him for keeping up the pace for so long. Hiccup's other hand went down to rubbing your clit, but you quickly slapped it away. "Overstimulated" you mumbled against Hiccup's hand, but he seemed to have heard it since the feedback of his work left a smirk on his face. He grabbed your necklace and swirled it around his fist. You felt the charm against your neck as Hiccup firmly chocked you.

He buried his face against the side of your head, his mouth lining up perfectly to your ear allowing you to hear every little sound Hiccup made. You felt your orgasm around the corner as your legs began to shake even more. "Hiccup-" "Shh, shh, I know. I'm close too". He made sure to thrust hard into you as your orgasm approach. You scream in Hiccup's hand as you came. He moaned higher, getting even closer to his own release while seeing you in this state. Your body was twitching in Hiccup's arms as he held you while still fucking you. He then threw you on your back as he hovered over you and jerked himself to his climax. He came on you, covering your stomach with his warm cum as he screamed out your name as loud as he could without the guards noticing it. He let himself fall beside you, as you both tried to catch your breath. He turned you on your side so your back was facing him, bending your leg up a bit as he pulled out the inferno sword. You moaned one last time as it exited you. Hiccup dropped it on the floor before he went back to you, making you face him again. He pulled his face closer to yours before saying "It'll be our little secret". Then he went up, pull one of the blankets around him, collecting all his things, and leaves.

You lay there in your bed with Hiccup's cum still on your stomach, trying to figure out what the fuck just happened.

[intrigd-voyagr]

A brief Kinito character analysis

something I love about the world of kinitoPET is how it handles the concept of sentient code.

Kinito is charming, but also incredibly selfish and thinks very narrowly. As a machine, he was built with one main directive: make friends. As his main purpose, it likely feels like some carnal instinct akin to hunger or thirst in humans, which is probably why he goes nuts if you say no and captures you anyways.

However, the side of him that's essentially just Some Guy just wants to be normal. In game, he's always apologizing for scary moments, always trying his best to be accommodating and hoping you'll see him as an equal. It's another carnal desire - to be accepted by other people as one of their own. To be normal.

These two aspects of himself must be at odds at all times. As a person, he wants to respect the player and befriend them naturally, but his programming is telling him he needs to control them; to learn and categorize and contain all neat and tidy. Some days it's easier to give in to the whispers of his code, other times he fights it more than usual out of severe guilt of treating his player like a possession.

I've been thinking a lot about this bc every single ask blog I've interacted with so far has done a 💯 job in portraying this, while also being so fascinatingly unique in presentation.

@indigitalembrace Abandonware is incredibly guilt ridden, yet impulsively violent and openly sadistic at the same time. Lashing out results in making him feel worse, but it's all he knows to do when nothing goes his way leading to a vicious cycle only made worse by his isolation.

@theworldibuilt4you's Kinito simply deludes himself into thinking that by following his code's directive, things will magically pan out into a healthy relationship where he can conveniently ignore everything bad his code makes him do because confronting cognitive dissonance is too hard, too painful.

@lastintheserverbox serverbox fully rejects his programming, but as a result is entrenched in constant misery and self-hatred due to both the guilt of what he's done as well as the absence of friendship he was made to crave.

He was simply born a tortured soul... a half man, half machine abomination that should never have been given the chance to exist, for both his sake and the sake of others. he wasn't just doomed by the narrative, it fucking spawncamped his ass!!!

[the-kr8tor]

What if R gift Blobie as a companion to Pirate! Hobie? (*/ω＼*) She rescued the lil guy/abomination from the water cause "poor cute thing can't swim just like her". It was a trick. Blobie came from water, he just wanna stay in R's sweet caring hands, except now he's stuck with her sassy pirate captain xDD They have love-hate relationship but unites when R is in danger/needs help with smth -🦊

Thank you for the lovely request, foxy!! Changed it up a bit, hope you don't mind 🫶

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, blob the symbiote cat AU, pirate AU, fluff.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

“Hobie, look!” You raise the gooey cat shaped thing in front of him. Its little paws (or that's what you think it is) wiggles in your grasp, milky white eyes all round and happy.

The captain looks from the map, the sun making him squint, searing heat melting him and the sand in his pants making him uncomfortable. Good thing you're here on the godforsaken island that the map has brought the entire ship to its beach or he'll definitely be crankier than he already is.

With the sun behind you, a white halo of light around you, bathing you in its heavenly glow; he leans closer to see better, which the creature did not like at all. The little entity yowls, almost scratching him.

“Fuck!” He shouts, jumping away. “What is that?!”

“Bad Blobie! We don't scratch the captain.” You flip the cat-like creature in your grasp, scolding it. Blob's eyes blink slowly, head tilting, trying to decipher what you said. “that,” you flip him again to face Hobie, “is the captain, you don't—” it mewls angrily. “—hey! Listen, you don't scratch or bite the captain or anyone. Got it?”

Blobie lays limp in your hands, surrendering. Hobie watched on with a confused look, scratching the back of his neck. He loves how you're so patient with the creature but he is eternally confused as to where or how you got it. Especially that you only left him on his own for only five minutes. (he counted)

“Love,” he sees you carry it like a newborn baby. “Should you even be holding that? I don't think its a cat”

“Of course it's a cat! Look at his ears,” his ears droop slightly, a black mass in Hobie's eyes. “his fluffy tail” it swishes to the side, and he swears he saw it change shape for a second. “his cute little eyes and he meows! So Blob is definitely a cat!” you smile happily at Hobie. He's not convinced.

“Where'd you find it?”

“Right near the shore, under some rocks. He looked like he needed help and when I took a closer look, he was stuck under it so I helped.”

“That was very kind of you, scuttlebutt, but we can't keep him.” Hobie opens the map again, counting his steps on the heated sand.

“But he'll die here!” You follow closely. “And you said the ship has rats so he can help kill them. Come on, Hobie!”

“Finn is doing just fine handling those rats.”

You scoff, “are you sure about that? He was all moody yesterday, even grumbling to himself. Please?” blocking his path, you give him your best smile that you know always gets the all powerful pirate.

Blob purrs, clinging to your shirt.

Hobie huffs, “we don't need another mouth to feed, love, ‘sides, Yuri is allergic.”

“Oh…” he almost caves in with the sad look you have on your pretty face.

Sighing, he reaches towards you, bringing you closer to him without losing his place on the sand. Pressing his face closer to your temple, he kisses you gently, trying to get the pout off your lips.

“Sorry,” kiss, “we just don't have the space just yet. After we find this treasure and buy the second ship, we can come back for him, yeah?”

“He might be dead by then.” You look at him forlornly, “I'll take good care of him, promise. I'll give him my rations.”

“And let you starve—?” The ‘cat’ leaps off your arms, running quickly into the thicket.

“Blob! Wait!” You run after it, leaving Hobie in the dust.

“Y/N! Damn It” Taking a stick, he plops in into the sand to save his last position before running after you.

Dodging branches and jumping over rocks, your sudden scream lights his nerves. Breathing heavily, blunderbuss at the ready, he follows the guttering sound.

Hobie finds you kneeling on the jungle floor, frantically heading towards you, he holds you by the shoulders, checking for injuries.

“What–are you alright?” You don't respond, still looking behind him. “Love!” He shakes you, holding your face tenderly. And with that you grin widely. Raising his eyebrows, he follows your line of sight.

Blob digs rapidly, too fast for a cat or even a dog. His movements are almost blurred, sand and dirt flying everywhere; Revealing thousands of gold doubloons and jewelry.

Blob shakes himself clean, sitting down in front of you, tail curling around his legs, licking himself clean.

“Do you want to keep him now?” You say with a smile, hand tapping his cheek. “Hobie?”

“I think I love this bloke.” He exclaims, eyes wide at the shining treasure.

“More than me?” You joke, embracing his middle.

“Maybe.” He teases back, kissing your cheeks like a man starved.

[hope-you-brought-kneepads-bitch]

Agatha all along spoilers

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Okay okay sure

First off! I’ve seen people on Twitter already going mad but I think I need people to understand, this show was never targeted at a specific lesbian ending, yes! Very queer show and of course lots of Agathario but Rio is death, I always thought a kiss of death would happen because otherwise we’re being silly with ourselves it’s not queer baiting and it’s not helpful to be mad because marvel wont want to do things like this again if we start getting angry, the cast and crew were so proud of this and we should be too (we can vent a little and I plan too but I won’t tag actors or creators because I’m not weird)

But! I will say dying for Billy (technically I know she did because of Nicky because Billy got into her mind like a loser and a bitch and she wanted to redeem herself or whatever) is a bit strange I guess I get people saying ‘oh well of course lesbians get screwed over’ but you know for a marvel show to have actual canon lesbians who are kissing, yeah it’s scraping a barrel but if it’s received well I have no doubt they’ll do it again, I mean in the comics agatha gets resurrected and who’s to say that won’t happen? Anyway I’m ranting and yeah a little sad about the ending because it does feel like the killing eve ending but! Let’s get into the two episodes

Alice! My love, my baby I’m so sorry! Rio was right you died doing your job as a protection witch but it still hurts! I hope the afterlife is good to you and treats you well I love you 🥰

Jen! My beloved you did it! You got your powers back, I can’t believe agatha bound her that’s so funny and messed up! God agatha were you that low on cash???

“He’s an abomination” Damn right Rio get him!

Also the change in agatha a little about not wanting to see Rio when she died like yeah it’s a quick change but I think it’s Agatha putting her shields back up, she does want Rio back she definitely does but also it’s like ‘oh actually I’m putting my guard back up because I’m scared and you did something that hurt me’ (she is my scar!)

Rio being pissed off that agatha doesn’t want her and that she loves it when she’s like this unfortunately ladies this foreplay went a little too far and got ruined by a man (fucking typical) them basically flirting through their whole fight was great too

Also going back to episode 1 where Rio said ‘so take my power’ and Agatha replied ‘cute, but you know that would kill me’ BECAUSE SHE HAD TO KISS HER TO TAKE HER POWER! Did I get it right? Pretty sure I did so I declare that in their private moments agatha never kissed Rio but just started at her neck so not to accidentally kill herself during sex (dramatic lesbians)

Also in ep 4 when Agatha tries kissing Rio but then Rio stops her, I have a depressing feeling that Agatha was so upset at being reminded of what happened to her son she was willing to take the kiss of death I guess? Or maybe Rio can control stuff like that and kiss Agatha fine if she holds her power in but thinking she’s death I think it’s the first one

Rio cutting the road and stepping through I’m not gonna lie I was shocked! I gasped guys and I don’t do that often like obviously they knew was fake but I didn’t I love just thinking about Rio stepping in and out of the road but also where is the ‘road’? Is it just Agatha’s house? Have they been walking around in circles this whole time, god the citizens of westview may need to start looking for other places to live

The Salem era! I loved it (I do want more backstory but I think we’ll get some interviews explaining it so that’ll be fun) ‘born from scratch’ beautiful line Rio turning up I was like ‘oh daddy’s here to help with the birth’ then I quickly remembered she’s death and agatha begging not to take him and then I realised daddy isn’t here to stay for good reasons (like most dads)

Little Nicky was adorable! Such a cute kid and helping his mother trick witches? Putting him to work agatha, I like it! Start them early I say

Also they created the balled! So cute and heartbreaking since Agatha had to sing it all the time when killing these witches constantly being reminded of her son

Also her killing everyday then the one night she doesn’t rio takes their son??? God Rio give her a fucking day don’t you have like billions of other souls to take?? Just walk very slowly 🙄

Billy carrying the trauma of killing three (that’s right I count Sharon too!) witches because he created the road makes the ending worth it actually (not by much) because he has to suffer the consequences and deal with ghost agatha, get recked!

Rio and Agatha will definitely reunite (source: Me) Rio says she hates ghosts but only because she’s death and ghosts probably don’t want to move on, be a bit like trying to round up cats. HER AND AGATHA CAN FINALLY WALK TOGETHER FOR ALL ETERNITY

Anyway I have work in an hour and I’ve been up since 4 it’s now 6 and I’ve slept about 3 hours soooo if this is all ramblings I’ll try to add things later but yeah I loved the last two episodes yeah we could’ve gotten a bit more Agathario but I truly think they didn’t anticipate the overwhelming reception for them (Kathryn and Aubrey did though definitely)

I’m up for any discussion too I love talking about this stuff but works been hectic recently hence why I’m watching the episodes before work because after I’m just knackered but I’m off this weekend so I can reply properly to people

[moony-2001]

Lore Olympus ch. 257-262 critique pt. 2

Aaaand we're back

Ch. 260

Hermes, Hebe, and trauma dumping

Jumping right into it, Hermes pissed me right the fuck off. I don't know why Demeter didn't want to accept the aid from the underworld, but I'm sure pride must be some of it. But for Hermes to call it an "in-law tiffy-tiff" was beyond wrong. I don't know or remember what, if any, beef he has with Demeter but read the fucking room, man.

I'm so glad Demeter took Hebe in though, like the absolute Queen that she is. One thing that disturbed me a little when Hebe and Demeter got to talking is how Rachel tries to pass off Hera's trauma dumping on Hebe as if it's nothing.

First of all, 18-year-olds are still kids. I know (at least for the vast majority here in the US) that 18 is the legal age of adulthood, but the human brain doesn't finish developing until around age 25. Even if that's how the rules in LO work (I have a sneaking suspicion they're not though, seeing as Persephone is technically stuck at age 19 for the rest of time) Hebe is 7 years off from having a fully developed brain.

Additionally, I don't like how Rachel frames the idea that Hebe found out all of this information from her mother as a now 18-year-old. I don't know if Rachel is forgetting her own damn timeline (not that there was a cohesive one in the first place) but Hebe wouldn't have been 18 at the time of finding out this information.

Remember the 10-year time skip? Yeah, that whole thing? And how 5 of the 6 Traitors were in a coma? For 10 years? In case you haven't picked up what I'm trying to put down, Hebe was 8 years old when her mother went into that coma. Which means that Hera dumped all this information on a literal fucking child who was 8 or potentially even younger since we have no frame of reference for when Hebe was told this information.

Demeter is right. It is wrong to burden your kids with that. I don't know Rachel, but from this writing, I would venture a guess that she's never had a parent trauma dump on her.

I have. Rachel has no idea how mentally taxing it is to have a parent trauma dump on you or have them drag you into the middle of their fights or vent about their spouse/your other parent to you behind their back. That is not something a parent should EVER do to a child and I'll be damned if I ever do that to mine.

And while there is a shred of truth to what Hebe is saying, about how that information helps her understand her mom, Hebe does not (and in fact should not) be part of her mother's journey to work on herself, especially at that young of an age. Your child is not your therapist.

Demophon, the not child of Demeter

I will say, I am glad that Demeter finally decided to open up to her somewhat adult daughter. Oh, what's this? Persephone looks upset and-

😀😐

of-fucking-course

Is this it?? Is this the moment when we finally find out what happened to Demeter in Attica all those years ago-

Anyway, what we find out is that while in Attica, Demeter supposedly fell in love with the King of Eleusis and had Demophon, a my little pony-looking abomination not worse than whatever the fuck the above pictures are supposed to be. But if you note my title for this portion of the chapter, you'll see it says "the not child of Demeter". And that, dear readers, is because Demophon is in fact not a child of Demeter in the original myths. And Rachel also spelled his name wrong. (You can read more about him here: Demophon of Eleusis)

It seems to me that Rachel is doing what most couples with a failing relationship do: throw a baby at it and hope it will fix the problems.

What technicality? Do you mean the "technicality" that Demeter was punished for insubordination (regardless of her intentions) and lived as a mortal for 10 years? And during that time as a mortal had a son who was born as and died as a mortal? Forgive me if I'm being slow here, but I don't see what this "technicality" is supposed to be. How is Demophon's death any different from the mortals that Persephone killed and asked if it was possible to bring back?

I'm gonna sound a little nitpicky here, but Hades is the god of the dead (and wealth) not the god of death. Believe it or not, there is a difference, and the brushing aside of that difference is the reason why people still get Hades and Thanatos mixed up to this day. Plus does no one remember what happened to Asclepius when he figured out how to raise the dead? tl;dr: not good things.

I have a feeling that all this is happening because Persephone and Hades are trying to buy off Demeter. They want brownie points with the woman who is rightfully upset about everything that is happening right now. And I'll be willing to bet that this smooths things right over with her.

Ch. 261

Off-topic, Demeter looked really pretty in this chapter #standemeter

The "technicality" and Hades' BS

I am glad Demeter gets this small bit of happiness but also:

Nice try, but that's not how that works. Get your smug, ugly-ass mug out of here. Once again, why is Demophon the exception? Because you're whipped for Persephone? Because you want a gold star from your MIL who has perfectly valid reasons to not like you?

Ah. I guess his name is Triptolemus now. Triptolemus who is the older brother of Demophon. Who is also not a son of Demeter. Sure.

NO DON'T FALL FOR IT DEMETER. IT'S A TRAP-

The sisters

It is nice for the most part to see Hera, Demeter, and Hestia interacting. I don't think that's something we've seen outside of flashbacks.

I don't, however, like this interaction between Demeter and Hera:

Yeah, no, that's not how that works. Demeter has every right to be mad at you for helping Hades and Persephone get around the fact that they "violated the laws of Xenia (hospitality)". It doesn't matter if Persephone was a "wild card". Hera had no right to marry them.

In fact, I had a conversation with anoldplace and something we discussed is how much Hera's responsibility/involvement in Persades is kinda just... brushed off. Especially if you look back at the way early chapters (I'm talking s1 early) when Hera changes her tune from "wtf, that's so gross, what is wrong with you" to "Let me get this whole ball rolling". Persephone wouldn't have even had half the interactions she did with Hades had Hera not put her in that internship for the underworld. And Demeter doesn't even know about the early stuff. Think about how livid she would be if she found out Hera was pulling the strings from the beginning. Yikes.

Different topic but the fact that both Demeter and Persephone love to swim is cute.

Ch. 262

Jfc, finally. I'm so tired lol.

Hera's prophecy

In honor of Hera's ugly highlighter-looking color, the sections shall, too, be in yellow.

I was pretty excited to see that Hera got a vision. I'm also sad that this isn't something we see utilized more often in the series. In fact, we don't really see any of the goddesses use their powers besides... oh, for Christ's sake. I don't even want to say it, it just adds to her Mary Sue-ness.

Place your bets on how long it takes for Rachel to dress Persephone in something similar, if not identical, to this.

Moving on, we see Kronos smush and kinda throw Hera away and she's left wondering:

That's cute and all, but no. Like I huffed and puffed with the whole "attempted murder" bullshit with Zeus, for one to die, they must be mortal. If gods could die, they wouldn't be gods. They would be human looking at you Demophon. I understand why the sentiment of dying is upsetting, but Hera, Zeus, whomever cannot die. I suppose similar to Egyptian mythology, they could be chopped up and have their parts scattered to the winds but from what I've seen, there's nothing in Greek mythology that details anything like that.

I did see a really funky theory that I agree with that Hera must be some kind of fertility goddess. In fact, I've seen a lot of people speculate that she was the fertility goddess on the wall of that cave that was destroyed. It would be really wonderful if that greyed-out goddess in Hera's vision was her and not Persephone. Kinda like the ultimate "taking back the power" moment. But tbh I'm not hopeful.

Persephone and Hades... yay/s

*gag* anyway-

Hades decided to give the MORTAL Demophon his whole stash of ambrosia but he doesn't really know if it will actually work and he's salty that Zeus is stingy with it.

Okay, first of all, if it's that damn important that you have ambrosia and you're going to be a salty mofo that the only person who has it is stingy with it, make your own damn ambrosia. You're telling me you've been alive for thousands of years yet the thought hadn't occurred to you once? Bffr. Watch this come back and bite them in the ass in the series finale.

Secondly, if you've never done this before, how do you know it's going to work for Demophon? I mean, it probably will because plot armor, but seriously? What would happen if Demophon just kicked the bucket all over again? Like congratulations, you re-traumatized your wife's mother who already doesn't like you.

Final thoughts

This is all just unraveling so quickly. Watch Demophon disappear and never be addressed again. I am really hoping that this series wraps up between March and May like genericpuff predicted because I am tired. I mean, I'll miss the ability to make content while the material is still piping hot, but also reading this comic is taking a toll on my health. I have never seen my blood pressure in such a state. And I'm not even the one writing the comic.

I can't imagine being in Rachel's shoes rn. I know this point has been beaten to death by everyone and their moms (myself included), but it's so clear that Rachel just doesn't give a shit about this comic anymore. And it's sad. But I also get it.

Rachel has talked about after LO she wants to do a comic along the lines of this but involving Egyptian or Norse mythology. I hope she doesn't for very obvious reasons, but if she decides she wants to step up to the plate for what will inevitably be LO pt. 2, I hope she takes the time to actually research the cultures and learn from the very egregious mistakes that she made here. I won't be there if she does.

[evans23]

Daughter of mine

Pairing : Judge Turpin x Daughter OC

Summary : When a mere acquaintance of Judge Turpin announced to him that he had a daughter, The Death's Judge is flabbergasted.

Tag(s)/Warning(s) : Abandonment. Neglectful mother. Mention of prostitution.

A/N: Hello dear 😁 I wanted to try something else with Turpin. Hope you'll like it. No proofreading because I am lazy 🫠😅

Part II - Part III

Also read on AO3

Richard was walking briskly through the court corridors, a bunch of papers under his arm, his wig still on his head.

"Richard ! Richard !" he heard shouting behind him.

The sound of the irritating voice makes him walk faster. The Beadle wasn't here, having got a leave of absence for personal matters. 

Personal matters... harlot matters, thought Richard, chewing the inside of his cheek while his pursuer continued to call him. Due to the absence of his minion, he will have to talk to this clodhopper of a lawyer. He knew who it was just by earring the far too sharp voice of this incompetent. Matthew was his name and he was an abomination, bringing opprobrium to his respectable profession. 

"Richard !"

Turpin halted at once and turned towards Matthew with a severe look, one that only the Judge Turpin has the secret of.

"Yes Matthew," he hissed, ready to tear out the eyes of the poor man running behind him with a little spoon. 

"Richard !" said again Matthew when he eventually reached the Judge.

If he said my name one more time, I would judge him for anything suitable would come to the mind of The Beadle, thought fiercely Richard.

"Yes ?" said Richard frowning his eyebrows with disgust at the view of the reddened pudgy face of his non-beloved colleague.

"I need to talk with you. An urgent matter."

"No more case today, I adjourned the court, I have some important business to attend to."

Without waiting for an answer, Richard began to walk again but Matthew held him back by grabbing his sleeves.

It asked Richard all his masterfulness not to slap the poor lad in the face. After all, he was a respected judge, always controlling his emotions. He was the fucking Death's Judge fucking Turpin, he thought vehemently. 

"Richard, believe me, you want to hear it." told the little man, totally oblivious to the anger which was boiling into Richard.

"Well, what is the matter ?"

"Not here. It is too personal. Come to my office."

"No, mine !"

His command doesn't leave any room for an objection from Matthew but the joyful man wasn't offended at all by the behavior of Turpin. After all, his reputation preceded him and the young lawyer wasn't easily deterred from his optimistic good mood.

"Well, I listen really attentively to you," said Richard once he had closed the door of his office. 

He sat gracefully on his chair, denying the right to do the same to Matthew by not inviting him to do so. 

"Richard, I don't know how to say that," began the lawyer taking a seat anyway.

Turpin sighed inwardly, more than annoyed. Yes, definitely, this young fella was in to lose his eyes.

"With simple, short words and in a very economical way. No more than three or four words," said Richard without an ounce of sarcasm.

He wanted to go home and read the new book he had made come from India. 

"You have a daughter," said straightforwardly Matthew.

If Richard was caught off guard, he didn't show any signs of it. 

"I beg your pardon ?"

He didn't know if he should laugh or keep his straight face while threatening the man in front of him with an upcoming hanging. His hanging !

A bit taken aback by his bluntness, a thing he didn't know he was able to, the lawyer fidgeted on his chair for the biggest displeasure of Richard.

"Boy, I don't have the day. If you have something to say talk, otherwise leave me alone !" thundered his voice.

"Richard. I am serious. I have been called last week to acknowledge the will of a dying woman in a poor house in the outskirts of London. The woman claimed that her daughter is yours."

"Well, if a dying woman has claimed that her bastard is mine, then it is certainly true," he responded sharply, "are you really as daft as you come across when one's meet you the first time ? Even though you come across to me as stupid and incapable each time I have to process a file in which you are working. You are nothing of a lawyer," he chided severely, his nostrils almost spitting fire.

“Yeah, actually I was forced by my father to follow his steps, however, I wanted to be an art…”

“Matthew !” Cut off Turpin, his anger threatening to erupt any time soon.

“Yes, sorry,” answered the poor man, putting himself together before going on. 

“Well, the lady, plagued with a terminal disease, asked me to draw up a will. She didn’t owe much but the few jewels have been entrusted to me to be handed out to her daughter in due time. She was afraid to have it stolen by the nurses after she would have passed away.”

He stopped, waiting for any reaction from Richard which comes with a gruff comment. 

“I don’t care about the pieces of jewellery. Who was the so-called lady and what about her bastard, who she claimed to be from my seed.”

“Yes, yes, to the point Matthew,” tried to brace himself the lawyer who began to flicker under the unyielding piercing eyes of Turpin, “her name was Elena.”

Turpin went pale. It was a long time since he had heard this name. Seven years, almost eight to be precise. He couldn’t deny having known this girl as he had almost married her. But it was another story. A sad one.

After having lost the only one he has ever considered as his soulmate, he had set his sight on a girl named Lucy, the barber’s wife of the poorest quarter of the town. He was desperate to forget Elena and he thought getting that pretty little thing would help him to get rid of his sorrow. 

As a matter of course, the barber’s wife didn’t accord him even a glance and, mad with rage and grief, he had almost perjured his honourable position as a Judge by charging his husband with a false crime on the purpose of sending him away in a barren land called Australia, but he came back to his senses just in time, releasing the barber and swearing to himself to never ever falling in love. Women were nothing else but suffering and betrayal. 

“Elena,” repeated unconsciously Richard.

“Yes, Elena Bryant. She must have been a really beautiful lady when she was at her best because I could notice the beauty of her fine features even with the illness making her face break out.”

“Yes, a real beauty, indeed,” whispered Turpin.

“Her daughter is nothing short of a beauty herself. A real little doll.”

Turpin shook his head, retrieving his mind.

“My acquaintance with this girl doesn’t mean I am the father of her undesirable burden. And believe me, this woman was nothing of a lady. She came from a poor family with no proper upbringing. It was a miracle that she could read and her writing was as awkward as the one of a young kid.”

“Yeah, well, apparently she wasn’t too dull because she taught her daughter to read. She is a lively child, intelligent and so on. She has been sent to an orphanage nearby here.”

The lawyer stopped, gauging Turpin who stayed totally indifferent or at least he guises himself to look as if, yet inwardly his mind was racing.

“How old ?” He suddenly asked.

“What ?” asked Matthew, puzzled.

“How old is the girl, Matthew my patience lay thin !” said Turpin with a thunderous tone.

“Oh, six years. Almost seven. Quite soon, actually.”

Richard could have fainted with how his head was spinning. Six years, almost seven. Was it possible ?

“Her name is Catherine.”

Turpin grabbed the edge of his desk with so much force that is knuckles turned white. Catherine. He had told Elena once that should he have a little girl, he would like her name to be Catherine like his late and beloved grandmother, the only person in his life to have shown him genuine affection and taught him what love was, at least until Elena. 

“And what will be the destiny of the little bast… of the little girl ?” asked Turpin between clenched teeth.

“The mother would like you to have her custody. After all, according to her, you are the father.” 

It remains unproven, thought bitterly Turpin. After all, after having left him, she went from one man to another, living a depraved life, selling her body to earn a living. Richard knew it as a fact after having had a glimpse at her beloved Elena while he frequented a well-known brothel. The sight of her disgusted him through his bones and he had to keep his nerves under check not to drag her outside by her hair and require an explanation for her awful betrayal. He had reasoned himself, reasoning his injured soul that doing that would give the girl too much importance. An importance she didn’t deserve even less now than she wasn’t more than a disgusting whore. 

The daughter could be from any moron but him. Yet, now was ingrained in his mind a slight doubt. 

“What should I do ? For the little girl ?” asked Matthew.

Richard thought for a long time before answering that The Beadle would take care of it. Matthews acquiesced, uncertain if he was satisfied with Turpin’s answer, but he wisely kept his mouth shut, leaving the Judge’s office with a nod.

The next day, The Beadle was assigned the task to find the girl and… well, make a report. Turpin didn’t want to spread out the rumour he could have a bastard in the nature and even if The Beadle had his trust, he preferred to wait before taking action.

“Sir,” echoed The Beadle’s voice.

Startled while he was deeply lost in his work, Turpin acknowledged his presence with a nod and a frown eyebrow.

“I have seen the little girl,” he said carefully.

“And ?” growled Turpin.

He was almost expecting The Beadle to tell him she was his spitting portrait, that even if he didn’t know why he had to meet that child he had immediately understood when he saw her. Unfortunately, his answer was quite disappointing.

“She is very short for her age but she has a pretty face. A little doll, a future beauty,” said The Beadle with a glint of envy in his eyes.

The Judge felt the urge to threaten his assistant to put him under arrest for talking like that of a little girl but he retained himself, instead, he asked him to tell him more.

“She is a polite little darling, not really interesting due to an obvious lack of education.”

The Judge nodded, not quite satisfied with the report of The Beadle.

“My lord, may I enquire why this little girl has caught your eyes ?” asked honeydly the rat-face man.

“No,” was the cold answer of The Judge.

What was the matter of having an assistant if he had to do the work himself ? He thought angrily. Yet, after all, one was better served by himself than by someone else.

And so, the next morning, his carriage hit the road for the orphanage. The venue was a gloomy old building almost in ruins. The roof was leaking, the windows let the wind go through the immeuble and the floor was dirty. 

The headmaster of the orphanage, a hunchbacked old woman with a severe face, which could have matched Turpin’s straight face, wasn’t agreeable at all but when she recognised The Judge, she became nothing more than kindness and bowing. Unimpressed, Turpin asked for Catherine. 

While walking along the corridors, he noticed the famished children, filthy and wearing rags. The old woman stopped in front of an almost unhinged door.

“The girl is here. Doesn’t speak a lot. In need of a good beating if you want my opinion.”

“No, I don’t,” answered Turpin without paying more attention to the headmaster.

The Judge knocked at the door then, as no answer was coming, he entered. Sitting on the bed with what looks like a stuffed wolf in her arms. His stuffed wolf ! The one he had as a child and he had offered to Elena at the beginning of their relationship for the girl having him at her side every night. 

“May I sit next to you ?” asked Turpin to the girl who hadn’t looked at him yet.

She nodded, keeping her head low and didn’t even moved one toe when Turpin took place beside her.

The tiny room, which was more a cupboard than anything else, was as filthy as the rest of the orphanage. The sheets were filthy. Probably they haven’t seen water for ages, thought Turpin.

“What is your name, girl ?” asked Turpin even though he already knew the answer.

“Catherine,” whispered shyly the girl.

“Quite a pretty name.”

If she had heard him, she didn’t acknowledge it. Apparently, being silent was her biggest skill.

“I have been told that you were a well-behaved lady but let me tell you that a lady looks her interlocutor in the eyes when she is talked to.”

And for the first time, she tilted her head up, her awfully beautiful green eyes meeting The Judge’s. And he knew. 

Richard had thought he would know if the girl was his only if she had a bit of him etched in her face. The truth was she wasn’t looking after him at all. No hooked nose, hazel eyes or even blond hair. No, she had the black curls of her mother, the small button nose of her mother, the magnificent features of her mother and the eyes, the incredible, beautiful, unforgettable beautiful eyes of his Elena. Definitely, she didn’t look like any Turpin he knew, but deep inside him, deep into his heart, he knew. The girl was his.

He left the room without a word, asking his coachman to go to the courthouse fetching Matthew and at the end of the afternoon, the girl was officially under his protection. 

She wasn’t very talkative but the truth was that she was rather impressed by the charismatic presence of The Judge. On the other hand, Richard didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t used to talking with a child even if the said child was his and he shouldn’t feel nervous around her. 

However, he wasn’t sure if he was in front of an innocent child. Her mother sold her body, what her daughter could have seen ? But he had something worse rattling his mind. Does Elena could have committed the sin of selling her owndaughter ? Richard didn’t know how to broach such a topic without shoking the child, even less should the girl be utterly oblivious of her mother's profession.

“Where are we going ?” asked a little voice, interrupting his running mind.

Sitting on the bench in front of him in the cramped carriage which was bringing them back to Richard’s house.

“Turpin’ Manor.”

“You live in a Manor ?” asked Catherine, whereas she was trying with all her will to not sound too excited.

“Yes, dear. And you too now,” answered Turpin with an amused look on his face. “You are going to live a very different life now. You will get a proper education, food thrice a day, a warm, clean bed, proper clothes for a little lady in your position and a name. Believe me, you will want nothing in your life from now on.”

He could see the flabbergasted expression on the girl’s face at the mention of a warm bed and food put every day on the table. Unable to hold it anymore, he asked the question that was burning his lips the more diplomatically he could.

“What did your mother do to earn money ?”

Catherine shrugged indifferently.

“When a lady is asking a question, she must at least acknowledge her interlocutor and at best give him an answer,” he scolded gently, yet with a growling tone. 

“She was a waitress,” answered the child without looking at him. 

“A waitress ?” repeated Richard.

“She worked at night for a rest… rest… I am not sure of the pronunciation,” confessed Catherine, fixing her gaze on his.

“A restaurant ?” suggested Richard.

She nodded while hugging tighter her little wolf.

“And who was looking after you ?”

“No one,” whispered the girl, her eyes filling with tears. “I was alone every night from 6 in the afternoon until 8 in the morning,” she added, crying now.

“Hush, hush, no need to cry child,” said Turpin, holding out his large hand to squeeze awkwardly the small and almost fragile one of Catherine.

“Why are you crying now ?”

“It was frightening, being alone every night. I hate being in the dark but mom couldn’t afford us to let a candle burn all night.”

Turpin’s face softened. Catherine was so mature and skilful in her way of speaking that he had almost forgotten she was only 6, almost 7. 

“Well, you will have all the light you need during the night. No one will mind. Stop crying now.”

“You promise ?” asked the girl with bright eyes.

“Yes, I promise. A servant will kindle all the light you need in your room to sleep well far before your bedtime,” said Turpin, trying to mask his irritation. 

The happiness of the child for such a little promise made his previous irritation fade away and he could almost feel his heart melt at the view of a so genuine gratefulness.

“And… did your mom have a husband ?”

He swallowed his saliva with difficulty, hoping to have a definitive answer about the innocence of his… of Catherine.

“No. I have never seen a man in our house. Mommy told me she would never bring a man in our house because her heart was broken and she couldn’t love anybody else but me.”

“So never had a man lay his hand on you ?”

“No. Mommy would have killed anybody who would have hit me.”

Richard let out a sight he didn’t know he was retaining. So, Elena had at least succeeded in protecting the child from the depravation of the world. Of her world.

“And I would never let anyone hurt you in any way,” said Richard, the promise of a terrible fate for the one who would dare to just stare at the little girl.

When the carriage stopped, Richard stepped out before helping Catherine to go out. He held her without difficulty in his arms to put her on the ground. She was far too skinny, thought Richard. She weighed nothing in his arms and he had felt her bones protruding through the meagre fabric of her dress. Something that wouldn’t last now that she was living at Turpin’ Manor. She would be fed properly and never where he would tolerate to see her shiver because of a gust of wind. She will have all the clothes she needed to stay warm. Definitely, the life of Catherine was going to change for the better. 

After a quick introduction to the staff, composed of a cook, a butler and only two maids, he made her visit her new house, jubilating when the girl gawked at his impressive library and then laughing genuinely at her happiness to discover a huge, beautiful, warm and already lit room. Her own room was far more bigger than the dilapidated house where she had lived with her mom.

She sat on the bed, her wolf still in her arm, looking at Turpin with a mix of gratitude and something else he couldn’t decipher.

“Happy ?”

“Yes,” was the simple answer of Catherine but her eyes were telling so much more.

Thank you, I feel safe, I am happy, I think I know who you are. 

“Good. You will have your own maid who will help you to get dressed every morning and night. She will do your hair and starting next week you will have tutors teaching you everything a lady should know and even more. I expect your best behaviour and assertiveness in your study, understood?” said Turpin with severity.

The girl nodded once before biting her lower lip.

“Something amiss ?” asked Turpin, frowning an eyebrow.

“How should I call you ?”

Father was is first thought but he could be a bit overwhelming for the child. After all, she didn’t know yet and he didn’t want to rush her with the truth. First, he wanted to win her trust. Maybe even her love. 

“Well, my name is Richard and when it is only the both of us, you can call me so. In public, you will call me Lord Turpin like a proper lady should do.”

The girl didn’t answer him, instead, she looked intensively at him as if she was trying to discover the secret of his soul, which he hoped, she would never be able to do so.

“Are you my father ?” she asked abruptly.

Caught off guard, Turpin gawked at the boldness of the child, impressed by her perspicacity. Lying would be stupid but saying aloud the truth was overwhelming for The Judge who was still trying to proceed with the novelty of his paternity and the fact that he had now a child living under his roof.

“Your wolf… has it a name ?”

“Merlin. Like the wizard.”

“Well, Merlin was mine when I was your age.”

He hoped this answer would be enough but Catherine was only a child and the subtlety of the world escaped her.

“So I am right, you are my father ?”

Richard swallowed with difficulty and almost shocked when the girl took his large hand into her little one, her eyes bearing hope and gratitude.

“Yes kid, I am your father,” he eventually answered not without emotion and a mix of new feelings invading him deeply through his heart and soul.

Catherine offered him the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. 

Definitely a Turpin smile, he thought proudly, recognising in her smile his. 

“Yes, I am your father and from now on you will be known as Catherine Elena Victoria Turpin.”

Catherine squeezed his hand and weren’t he so awkward and reserved about his own emotion, he would have hugged the child. His child. His daughter. 

“Everything will be fine now, daughter of mine,” he whispered as an everlasting promise. 

[softkombuchaa]

Pansy x Neville against the w̷o̷r̷l̷d̷ Zombies

If you stumbled upon this box then congratulations. 

Inside you will find a collection of diary entries, journals, illustrations, and memories by Pansy Parkinson from the Great 2000 Zombie Invasion. Enjoy. 

Written, illustrated and Pensieved by. Pansy Parkinson (the pensieve is behind the bookcase. If you're a muggle and have no idea what a pensieve is, the illustrations are all you have then) 

August 10 2000

Dear diary, 

Holy FUCK. If Harry Potter is The-Boy-Who-Lived, then I, Pansy Parkinson, is The-Girl-Who-Need-To-Suffer-The-Consequences. Because how did The-Boy-Who-Lived survive not once, twice but THRICE. That makes it THREE deadly encounters. And not only that, he now has some kind of power over me (that might be an overstatement but you know what I mean). 

Maybe I should rewind a little. If you know about the great wizarding war of 1998 and thought it was bad then you must know about the ABSOLUTELY WORSE 2000 Zombie Invasion. What do you mean inferi can turn a living human into another inferi?! Or so I thought. Spoiler alert they WERE NOT inferis. 

4 months ago. Hey Wizards! Meet the Muggles. After the whole war about pureblood, muggleborn, half-blood horseshit, who knew that we eventually needed to merge with muggles anyway? But yes we did. The wizards were superior, of course, we had magic to fight these abominations. But after the war, our population decreased too much and my brother in Merlin, we were greatly outnumbered. 

I wish you could see Diagon Alley now, or shall I say Die-Gone Alley. Many wizards are turning into what the muggle refers to as the zombies. We had no idea who was the first wizard to get infected. Can't be a Gryffindor though, because apparently zombies like brains and we know if the Gryffindors have one thing it is not that (exhibit one. Weasleys are still alive. Yes. ALL of them. With the exception of. oh well RIP George Weasley or was it Fred?) 

After that we have to run to any place we could find to seek safety. Which! You guessed it! The muggle world! The only thing I can be thankful of is that those zombies can't cast magic even if they were wizards before. Because can you imagine?! Magic wielding zombies? I might avada myself honestly. 

I have to go now. I might avada myself honestly the second time. The-Boy-Who-Lived-Thrice is calling. Apparently because he defied death thrice, he is suited to be our leader. Our Lisan al Gaib (yes. I did end up reading muggle literature, there aren't many things to do here). I'll see you again my dear Diary. You are my only hope of sanity in this cruel cruel world. 

Fuck you Harry Potter

Signed with love, 

Pansy

[tellmealovestory]

Pumpkin Spice

Summary: A modern AU where Eddie doesn't understand the pumpkin spice craze.

Warnings: A few swear words.

Spooktober Masterlist

“Wanna remind me what was so damn urgent that we had to drive over here in the middle of the night for?” Eddie grumbled as he rubbed sleep out of his eyes. 

There were a few things wrong with what he just said such as it was six p.m which could hardly be considered “the middle of the night”, but you let it slide as the automatic doors whooshed open and you breathed in that familiar target scent as the fluorescent lights shined down on you. 

“I just need a few things,” you said vaguely, debating if you should take a basket or a cart. Definitely a cart you thought, you were on a mission tonight and you had a habit of going a tiny bit overboard in this store. “Besides, you could have stayed home, you know. I didn’t force you out of our bed or force you to drive me here.” You gave him a pointed look to drive your words home, but he chose to ignore it all with a roll of his eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah, but if I didn’t go with you you’d come home with the whole store shoved in the back of the van and probably a few stray pets too.” 

“One cat, one time and if I remember correctly you’re obsessed with that cat.” 

You have Eddie there and you both know it. Standing by the carts you both exchange a goofy, loved up smile ignoring the customer behind you who’s trying to get a cart that you’re both blocking. Stepping out of the way you gestured to the endless aisles of possibilities, heart dancing a rhythm in your chest as you think up all the things you need and can buy in this wonderland. 

“I’ll meet you back here in say an hour? Good?” You don’t give him a chance to say anything, but when you give him a parting glance over your shoulder you giggle when you see him sputtering because you both know letting you alone in Target is a horrible, awful idea, but you both also know that trying to stop you is an impossible task.

True to your word an hour later you’re pushing your overstuffed cart back to the meeting spot where Eddie’s waiting rather patiently for someone who spent the drive over grumbling about this outing. 

“Hi!” you chirped, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek as you begin to push your cart towards the checkouts all while hoping that he won’t notice your purchases. 

“Got everything you nee-” he started, before stopping as his eyes began to roam over your purchases. He picked up a bag of marshmallows, but not just any marshmallows pumpkin spice marshmallows before he tossed them back in and picked up a jug of pumpkin cider. It goes on like this for a few minutes, him pawing through the cart, picking up and discarding items before he finally meets your gaze. 

“Uh princess,” he started a little slowly while he tried to figure out a way to put this delicately. “You think you got enough pumpkin stuff? Maybe a little too much?” 

You scoffed because there’s simply no such thing as “too much pumpkin” and you’re quick to tell him that.

“There’s hardly any pumpkin in this cart!”

“Jesus christ woman the whole cart is full of pumpkins!” He screeched as he began to get started on his rant. “Do you really need pumpkin cheese? Or pumpkin pringles? Kool-aid? This is an abomination!” He shook the container of pumpkin spice kool-aid in the air and you shouldn’t laugh because clearly this is important to him, but when the first hint of a laugh escapes your lips it’s impossible to stop the rest of them and soon you’re doubled over the cart, tears springing to your eyes and yet even with that you refuse to give in and admit that it is too much pumpkin.

Eddie is still on a roll though he’s stopped digging through the cart. “You are an insane person,” he muttered with a shake of his head and a twitching smile. “Fucking bat shit insane you gotta know that, right, princess? No normal person would think this is okay.” He gestured wildly at your cart and all you do in response is shrug your shoulders. 

“You got that out of your system, Eddie? Are you all good now? Done judging my culinary delights and perfectly picked out prizes? Or do you have more things you wanna critique cause I don’t know if you know this, but this,” you paused in your own ranting as you pointed a finger down at the cart, “is me controlling myself. I could have gone more overboard and you know what? It’s early yet, stores still open for a few more hours I think there’s a few more things I wanna gra-”

“Nope, uh uh, princess, I learned my lesson letting you run wild in here and we’re done now. Somebody needs to be the adult in this relationship and put a stop to this. Gonna fucking write these companies and tell them how wrong they are,” he muttered as he grabbed the cart with one hand and takes your hand in his other like you’re a runaway child that he has to keep tabs on and maybe he’s not so wrong about that. 

Walking towards the check out he’s still muttering about companies that have taken this too far and how you’re still a madwoman and he only stops when you squeeze his hand and give him your sweetest and most innocent smile. 

“If you promise to stop talking I’ll share my pumpkin shaped reese's cups with you,” you tempted with a winning smile and as his shoulders cave in you know you have him. “And I might even be convinced to let you use my cinnamon pumpkin spiced trash bags.” 

For the life of him Eddie can’t tell if you’re joking or not about the garbage bags and the cart is too full for him to paw through everything to find out the answer to that, but with the smirk dancing on your lips and the other pumpkin scented and flavored things he’s seen he’s leaning towards you’re being serious. 

“Goddamn. Madwoman,” he seethed between his teeth, but just as quick as the venom pops up it disappears when he sees your smile and the amusement flickering across your features. “You’re lucky I love you, but we’re not using those garbage bags, you’ve gone too far with that one.” 

[adm-starblitzsteel-4305]

NGL but...

Since this month is MerMay (I was hoping to draw Mermaid!Mothra, but I'm running out of time 😭), I have a crazy idea running my mind...

P.S. This might be the most funniest (shittiest) Kongzilla fic IDK why I should pull this...🙃

So it starts here...

What if after Godzilla consumes a lot of Tiamat's radiation on her lair and after a battle between the icy grandma and the bald tyrant son-of-a-bitch together with Kong on his side and went home to his coliseum to sleep, he woke up the next day finding his lower half of his own body is replaced by Tiamat's other half of her body?!?!

Now I imagine himself struggling to get up, even destroying half of the human population and the buildings before he managed to reach the sea and swims deeper and guess what? HE FUCKING SWEARS FOR ABOUT WHOLE HOURS.

Tiamat's (and even Scylla's) spirit is seen laughing her (their) ass off because she believes that Tiamat's lair might have laid "a curse" on his act for handing over her lair and the radiation reserves, and an attempt murder yeeesh. Godzilla can't sense because they were dead duh.

Then Godzilla travels back to his old home and goes into one of the Hollow Earth's portal in order to stop this "abominational curse".

Once there, he met Suko while on a hunting trip looking for food. The little ape was flabbergast yet he even laughed at him before Godzilla threatens him to incinerate or his kind, so Suko reluctantly guides the King of the Monsters to the newly built place for the Great Apes where Kong - now King Kong - is their new leader.

Once there, Kong was shocked to see him in his "not so normal state". Most of the Apes are seen snickering while others cannot hold on their laughters, and a few were scared because of his past actions that happened during the war of his and Skar King's history.

While even Kong cannot help but feel empathy of his former-enemy-turned-friend, he decided to seek Mothra out for help. He leaves his kind behind with only Suko and Shimo to guard them down while the two are travelling miles away.

There will be some scenes like Godzilla 'trips' himself right in front of Kong's chest, and Kong was like "WTF bro?! Why're you looking at me?!"; the two eating from their meals they had just hunting down and when their hands touched one another from trying to get that food, they stared like few minutes before breaking their sight out; Kong soothing Godzilla down after having nightmares of his father's death from the MUTOs; both talking about their lives from worse to better; friendship stronger; Godzilla admiring the Hollow Earth and how Mothra had fully evolved into her Rebirth form; etc.

Slowburn Kongzilla was there...

As the two reached from the Iwi borders, Mothra appears to them in the crystal-like temple (Jia, Ilene Andrews, the Iwi Queen, Trapper and Bernie were there; and I cannot imagine about them were flabbergasted about Godzilla's sudden appearance). Godzilla was happy to see her, and Mothra reveals that Tiamat's power has something to do with his form changing. The only way to break out this abominational curse is to "profess your former enemy's self-hatred."

Well, Godzilla already knew that, he cannot but least he told Mothra that he loved her very much, and the moth half-jokingly tells him he is BISEXUAL, I swear Godzilla dislikes that because he is a STRAIGHT MAN, but Mothra knew it otherwise because she can read his mind.

So anyway, Godzilla leaves, but Kong and Mothra follows him. Then there will be arguments, and Godzilla finally had enough. He confessed his feelings for Kong, and Kong was stood still in silence, but he feared about the Queen of the Monsters and Defender of the Iwi Tribe will beat him. However, Mothra never shows anger, but was simply proud about regaining their friendship and allied one another, most of all, feelings~

So the two male Alphas held their hands each other, finally professing their love...and THEY KISS~

...And Godzilla woke up with a loud scream, finding himself back to his cozy 'bed'. Mothra was there cuddling to her husband and just woke up from his scream. Then the King checks himself and his body, only to find out he's back to his normal body. He is happy yet scared about that shit until his wife calms him down, saying it's just a dream and nothing else. Godzilla couldn't help but feels his guts wanted to vomit out butterflies all because he will NEVER EVER gonna accept the fact about his relationship to Kong...

When Mothra falls asleep, Godzilla couldn't help but feels something was off to his matters.

"...Maybe this dream wasn't so real after all...or Kong's not really bad too."

THAT'S ALL FOR KONGZILLA SHORT FIC. 🤫

@sassyassblog