#maybe on. my spring break or something..........

[jinx-xxed]

Dad!Remmick Headcanons

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A/N; This was bound to happen because I can never resist writing something like this and Remmick was asking for it, like just look at him 🤕 this is roughly a pt. 2 to Desperate Soul since this whole idea stemmed from that monstrosity lmao 🙏 please excuse how self-indulgent these are thanks (I had so much fun writing these I was kicking my feet and giggling)

Content; Pure fluff, extremely domestic, pregnant reader, human reader, girl-dad Remmick, nameless daughter, difficult pregnancy, dhampir daughter, vampirism, some lore stuff, scenting, Remmick purring (sorry not sorry), soft Remmick, protective Remmick

Wc; 3.9k

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

☆ Remmick notices the change in your scent first. He knows every detail of you by heart, carries you with him every time he goes out into the night, so when your smell shifts, ever so subtly, he clocks it immediately. It’s barely there, the undercurrent of something new, something fresh and sweet like the blooming buds of spring. He thinks for sure his nose is playing tricks on him, that maybe he really is getting too old, that it can’t possibly be the one thing he’s always been hoping for.

☆ There’s a day when you come back home from a few errands, when you’d slipped out while Remmick was busy cleaning so he wouldn’t ask too many questions. You’re quiet coming in, your movements careful, each breath tight in your lungs. You find him in the kitchen, curtains drawn, putting away the dishes. He knew you were there as soon as you stepped inside the door but he lets you be sneaky, lets you turn him to you with shaky hands, lets you hold his face with a tenderness that has him fearing something’s wrong. It’s then that you tell him—you’re pregnant. You say the words in a trembling whisper, as if saying them too loudly would break them, make them untrue.

☆ Remmick goes still, struggling to process, before he sinks to his knees. His hands, now shaking just the same as yours, come up to clutch at your sides, fingers pressing in. He puts his face against your stomach, his breathing ragged, his eyes shut tight as tears form behind them and run down his cheeks. You card your fingers through his hair as he cries, a quiet, sacred thing between you. He murmurs his prayers to you like you’re a pastor, words cracked at the ends but still full of reverence, spilling an endless array of thank you’s and promises and praises while he clings to you, emotions he’s never known before swirling in his chest.

☆ Remmick becomes obsessed with your scent, more than he already was. He spends half the day with his face nuzzled into your neck like he’s trying to engrave your smell into his lungs, and scenting you is the first thing he does whenever he comes back home. He loves the way your smell changes, gaining a milky undertone, turning soft around the edges, full of good things and the promise of what’s to come.

☆ When your bump starts showing, Remmick is sooo annoying about it. You can barely move without him on you, always wanting to feel that little life fluttering beneath his hands, the tiny heartbeat in sync with yours. He’ll talk and sing to it constantly, humming little half tunes and telling it about mundane parts of the day. It’s like a ritual for him to say good morning and good night to your bump; he tells you it’s to make sure the baby knows papa’s voice.

☆ Remmick gets even worse when the baby starts to kick. Those vampire senses of his give him some innate connection to the baby that you couldn’t possibly understand, and he seems to sense their movement before even you do. His eyes will shine brighter than you’ve ever seen them, cold palms pressed so delicately against your stomach so he can feel his child beneath. “This one’s gonna be a fighter,” he says to you with all the confidence in the world.

☆ The pregnancy isn’t easy on you by any means. It seems the further along it gets, the more and more of your life is sucked out of you. You know it’s mostly because of the baby being half vampire, already doing their job of draining the soul out of somebody, regardless of if it’s their own mother. There’s some days when you can’t even get out of bed, your legs shaking too much and your head feeling light, your skin clammy. Remmick takes care of everything on days like those, letting you rest while he completes every task and chore with precision. He doesn’t let you feel guilty about it for a second, telling you that you don’t gotta worry one bit, that all he wants you to do is lay there nice and comfortable to ease his nerves.

☆ Remmick is like a mother hen with you, always hovering, always making sure you eat the meals he meticulously prepares for you that are full of strange ingredients to strengthen your blood and boost your energy. He follows you like your shadow, waiting for the moment you’ll need him and he’s eager to take anything off your hands. Even if you think you’re alone for just a moment, trust that Remmick is right around the corner, never straying too far.

☆ Remmick worries about you like crazy day and night. It’s as if somebody turned up the dial on his protectiveness, increasing it to the point that he’s hesitant to even go out and feed, something deep within him telling him he needs to stay with you and the baby to keep you safe. Then there’s the worry, the dark, sickening thought that maybe the pregnancy will be too much for you, that he’ll lose the both of you in one go. When he starts thinking like that he has to hold you real close, telling himself that he wouldn’t let that happen. You always return the gesture, cradling him gently in your arms, kissing softly along his face, promising him that you’re right here and won’t be going anywhere.

☆ It drives Remmick insane when he can’t follow you outside whenever you run errands, instead leaving him behind to pace by the door like a worried dog waiting for your return. The same can be said if you decide you want to sit on the porch swing to take in a little sun after being stuck in bed for days. He’ll be sat tucked inside right by the door, safely in the shadows but still close enough to you to calm himself. He has to admit he loves the way you smell afterwards though, your skin full of warmth and kissed by the scent of fresh summer blooms.

☆ On the nights Remmick does go out, his hunger undeniable, he always brings you back something. It very much reminds you of a cat bringing back a gift for its owner, though thank God Remmick doesn’t give you dead birds or mice. Instead it’s little trinkets he thinks you’ll like, new books to keep you occupied while bedridden, or fresh ingredients for a dish he plans on making for you. He’s always eager to see your reaction, to know you appreciate his efforts while he’s out there drinking the blood of some innocent person. You always do, always giving him a little kiss on the cheek as a thank you.

☆ Then on the other nights he’s able to stick around, when he can stave off his hunger, you’ll find yourself being ushered to bed as soon as it gets too late. You don’t complain since you’re constantly tired anyway, gladly letting Remmick bring you into his arms, bundling you up nicely while he whispers sweet nothings to you. His fingers will run up and down your back, leaving pleasant goosebumps in their wake, or he’ll massage along your belly, making it easy to drift off. He soothes the tension in your shoulders, he takes off some of the weight you bear.

☆ It isn’t until close to the third trimester that you get the nursery together, both of you too scared before to have too much hope. Remmick builds much of it himself, putting his old skills and calloused hands to use, while you paint the walls in soothing colors, the curtains in the room safely drawn tight.

☆ You didn’t know at first, but Remmick had consulted an old, old acquaintance of his, an ancient hag he’s known for longer than you could even comprehend. He asked her about what to do, how to help you and your baby, to make sure you both survived. The old woman wasn’t super comforting, telling him flat out that it was rare for a human mother to live through a dhampir birth, but it was still possible, and you seemed strong enough to do it.

☆ The old woman becomes like a midwife of sorts, visiting every so often to check in on you. She makes you uncomfortable at first, this strange hag invading your home, staring at you intensely, poking at you and your stomach, speaking in a thick, ancient accent, but you trust in Remmick and his devotion to you and the baby. He’s always glued to your side when she’s around, those red eyes of his glowing dangerously like a warning, as if daring her to make a wrong move. He doesn’t like her any more than you, but he knows that no human doctor would be able to help you the way she can.

☆ The birth nearly ruins you. The pain of the contractions is like nothing you’ve ever felt, your body seizing with each one, every ounce of energy you have going towards your baby. The old woman coaxes you through it, she ignores the blood that spills from you, tries to get you to push past the agony and dizziness with experienced hands soothing your tense muscles. And then Remmick—oh, Remmick is a mess. He can sense the way your life thins, listens to your sounds of pain that he so desperately wishes he could ease. He clutches your hand in both of his, red eyes gleaming and teeth elongated from the thick scent of blood in the room while he whispers prayers to a god he’s never believed in before just for you. As selfish as it may be, he knows he’d turn you in a heartbeat if things turned dire, if you really couldn’t make it through. He’d sink his fangs into your throat, let your blood coat his mouth, just so he can keep you here with him, but he holds steady in his faith in you, in your resilience to death itself.

☆ It’s not long before the cries ring through the room. Your daughter takes her first breath, her tiny lungs belting out a scream to rattle the skies. You sink back into the pillows instantly, tears and sweat staining your cheeks, your chest heaving. In that moment it’s like the only thing keeping you tethered to life is Remmick’s hand in your own, his grip strong and unwavering as he whispers things to you, the words unable to be heard over the ringing in your ears but comforting nonetheless.

☆ The old woman bundles your daughter like she’s done it a hundred times before, cleans her with a care that would be unthought of for withered, clawed hands like hers. She murmurs something to your child, something quiet and sacred and holy right against her forehead, something neither you nor Remmick will ever know.

☆ It feels like your head finally comes above water when your daughter is placed in your arms. Your sobs start anew when you look at her little face, the small, wet curls sitting atop her head. She’s utterly perfect to you, she’s everything you could’ve wanted and more. You can already tell she got some of Remmick’s strong features, got his eyes, but he’ll never stop telling you how much she reminds him of her mama. She coos and gurgles, her cries having quieted after the words of the old woman. She squirms in your hold, already eager to get out of her binds. “That’s a strong one ye got there. Ye hands will be right full if she’s anytin’ like ‘er bastard o’ a father.” The old woman tells you, and you manage a laugh.

☆ Remmick can only stare in awe at the tiny bundle in your arms. His side is pressed against yours on the bed but he finds he can’t move much more than that. He can’t bring himself to, something inside of him hesitant at touching this little being that’s so innocent, so pure. He feels undeserving of such perfection, feels like if he shifts even an inch that this image before him will shatter and disappear. It isn’t until you nudge him that he snaps back into himself, those red eyes meeting yours and your tired, understanding smile. “C’mon,” you urge quietly, bringing your daughter closer, “she’s yours too, y’know.”

☆ Remmick hesitates for a second longer before he reaches a shaking hand forward, claws tucked far away, and runs his finger along the softness of her cheek. Seeing her react to his touch, being able to feel her beneath him, feel that she’s real, breaks him. The tears fall and they don’t stop, especially when you place your daughter fully in his arms. She’s the sweetest damn thing he’s ever seen, his baby girl. When she reaches those tiny, chubby hands up towards him, he knows that it’s over for him, that his heart and soul have already been surrendered to her. He’ll spend the rest of his cursed days thanking you for this blessing.

☆ Your body takes its time recovering, and you find you aren’t out of the woods just yet. It’s slow going, your strength utterly spent on bringing your daughter into the world. Before she leaves, the old hag assures you that you’ll make it through, and she provides you with plenty of strange medications to take, made from ancient herbs you’ve never even heard of. She tells you that it’s a miracle both you and your daughter are so healthy and alive, and gives some final tips on proceeding with a dhampir child. She’s much the same as a human being, though she’ll need blood and will show vampiric traits on top of that, and she’ll grow quicker than your typical human baby. The woman says it won’t be easy, but you should be fine as long as Remmick sticks around. She then mutters that she has no doubts about that front, the man being like a pest you can never get rid of. It makes you smile—she isn’t wrong, of course.

☆ Remmick fits into fatherhood like it was made for him, like he’s been waiting his entire eternal life for the chance to prove it. He holds his daughter like she’s the embodiment of everything good in the world, always so, so very gentle with her. After centuries of destruction and pain, he allows himself to be softened, refuses to let the horrors of his existence anywhere near his baby girl.

☆ Remmick is extremely doting and diligent when it comes to his daughter. Him being a vampire allows him to keep watch late into the night, eyes smoldering with red trained on the crib while you get the rest you so desperately need. As soon as she begins to cry he’s there, picking her up in steady hands and holding her right against him, shushing her in the gentle way he always does, the way that never fails to get her to quiet down. He can’t stand the sound of his baby crying, it breaks his dead heart like nothing else.

☆ It’s during one such night when she begins to wail that you discover something fascinating about Remmick. You’re woken up as soon as she starts to cry but he tells you with a kiss to go back to sleep, that he can get her. You don’t object, couldn’t with how exhausted you are, so you lay your head back down and shut your eyes—before you hear something strange. A low rumbling noise, almost like a vibration of sorts, quiet and oddly soothing. You sit up, looking for the source, only to discover it’s coming from your husband. He’s holding your daughter right against his chest, letting her feel the rumble of his purrs as he rocks her, the sound seeming to put her right back to sleep just like a cat calming its kitten.

☆ Remmick catches you watching him and if you aren’t mistaken he seems… embarrassed. You can see the way he ducks his head in the dark, the purrs stuttering in his throat as he clears it. “It’s ah… somethin’ I found I could do. Comes with the whole vampire thing I guess.” He mutters to you.

You smile and chuckle lightly. “It seems she enjoys it an awful lot. Wish you woulda done it for me sometime before, it’s calming.”

He matches your smile then and comes over to you with your daughter in his arms, sinking down onto the bed so, so carefully so he doesn’t disturb her. “I’ll do it for ya anytime ya want, darlin’.” Remmick promises while you snuggle into his side. His purring begins again, louder this time, his whole body gently vibrating with it. He feels only happiness and contentment with his two girls soundly asleep on him.

☆ Remmick gladly takes over the job of mixing blood into your daughter’s baby food when it makes you too nauseous. There’s pride in his chest when he watches how eagerly she eats, her eyes always shining a little brighter after getting some blood in her system. You don’t ask where Remmick gets it from, pretend not to notice when he comes home with a few jars of it. When it keeps him here with you for longer stretches of time, keeps your daughter full and happy, you can’t really complain.

☆ Your daughter runs you both ragged with her energy. There’s been multiple instances where Remmick has snatched her up mid toddler-sprint to doing something dangerous, his reflexes thankfully able to match her own no problem. She giggles to the high heavens every time he does, every time he hauls her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, meanwhile he’s telling her she’s gonna give her poor papa gray hairs.

☆ It ruins Remmick when your daughter gets too old to sleep in her crib in your shared bedroom. He loved having his baby girl right next to him, loved being able to hear her little heartbeat and tiny breaths, and part of him can’t accept that she’s so big already. You console him while you both make your daughter’s new room into something perfect for her, fitted with little painted stars on the walls, lots of books, and all her favorite toys and stuffed animals.

☆ Remmick tucks her in every single night. As soon as she starts getting tired, he’ll sit in her room with her, either singing a lullaby or reading her one of her favorite stories while she curls into him, his deep, gentle voice lulling her to sleep with ease. Once she’s out, he’ll smile fondly, moving her off of him so very carefully so he doesn’t wake her, and pulling the blankets tight around her. He places the softest of kisses to her forehead, whispering that he’ll love her forever, before switching the light off and ducking out of the room.

☆ There have been times where he can’t bear to move her so he’ll lay there with her all night, holding his little girl close while she sleeps, her human warmth bleeding into him.

☆ The more she grows, the more you discover the steady personality your daughter has. She’s incredibly smart and strong-willed, eager to help those around her and endlessly curious. She’s also been known to debate her way out of punishments, using her charm and quick wit to stump both you and Remmick on occasion. He’ll pretend to be upset but he’s secretly cheering her on, glad to see the feisty, confident girl she’s growing into, just like her mama.

☆ Remmick absolutely beams when her vampire traits first really show themselves. She opens her mouth and proudly shows off all her teeth sharpened to little points, that familiar unnatural gleam in her eyes. Remmick laughs, picking her up to swing her around while she giggles. “That’s my girl!” He exclaims. “Just like papa, sweetheart. Ya look beautiful.”

☆ There’s some days when Remmick feels like he failed in some way. It’s always when you and your daughter go outside, when the sun is able to touch your skin and not burn it to a crisp. There’s something like regret that boils in him while he watches you both out in the grass, merely catching glimpses through the safety of a curtained window, wishing so badly he could join you. Whenever your daughter asks why he won’t come out too, you gently explain that the sun hurts him, that it’s not safe for papa to be out when it’s bright, that it’s sort of like how the sun makes her so weak after a certain amount of time. You can see the understanding click on her face and she nods.

“I’ll protect you from the sun, papa!” She boldly declares once, making something in Remmick crack.

“Thank ya, my sweet girl.” He says, hugging her tight.

☆ Your home is always full of music, either from the record player by the fireplace or Remmick himself, and dances in the open space of the living room are a common occurrence.

☆ The first dance is always reserved for you. Your daughter will sit on the couch and watch in awe as Remmick sways with you to a slow song, nothing but love and devotion glittering in his eyes when he twirls you, his strong features softened in the gentle lighting. You’ll share a kiss that has your daughter looking away before Remmick is pulling her in, making her smile and laugh as he dances her around with expertise. He brings you in as well, dancing to the melody of an old jazz record with his two girls, nothing but joy and warmth buzzing in the air.

☆ Both you and Remmick sing old songs that you’ve known all your lives, sharing pieces of yourselves with your daughter. Remmick is eager to pass down his history to her, to teach her ancient things of his homeland that no other would remember, like centuries-old phrases and dances. She always listens so intently whenever he tells her a story of ancient Ireland, of the culture and people. It heals part of him to do so, to know it’s not just him anymore, bearing the brunt of his memories alone.

☆ Different times of the day warrants different types of songs on the record player. There’s always a rowdier one during the morning and afternoon, the melodies loud and energetic, leaving your daughter bouncing on her toes. Then there’s the quieter ones for when the moon shows her face, gentle piano and saxophone flitting through the halls while Remmick’s voice lowers a few tones, murmuring gentle things to his little girl who’s not so little anymore as he holds her, her face smooshed against his shoulder as she dozes off.

☆ Instead of hatred and vengeance, Remmick finds himself full of love and happiness instead. For once in his long life he looks forward to the next day, surrounded by his little family, you and your daughter and him. It’s perfect.

[yellowsheart]

MY BIG BOOB’S GIRLFRIEND 2

this is for my big boob's girls! Hope you like this! Sorry for the grammatical errors, but English is not my main language!

FIRST PART

themes: big boobs, erection, suggestively...All the characters are at the legal age!

YN - pink!

Katsuki - red!

Others - green/yellow!

After weeks of grueling training, the guys finally gets a well-deserved break at the hot springs. But what should’ve been a peaceful moment turns into a steamy disaster when YN accidentally ends up in the same bath as Katsuki Bakugou—completely naked. And when they try to hide in a side room to avoid getting caught, things only get hotter.

After this, Katsuki can't stop thinking about it! He's so in love with YN, but difficult admit it!

It was a quiet evening in the U.A. dorms, at least until Bakugou spoke up. Sitting in Kirishima’s room, the three boys were relaxing after an afternoon of training, between chips, drinks, and boyish chatter.

-“…And then this idiot trips on the fucking step and falls on me.”-

Katsuki was sitting with his legs crossed, his eyes half-closed as he tried to tell the story without getting angry. To no avail.

Kirishima’s eyes widened. -“Wait wait wait… let me get this straight. YN. She fell on you. Naked.”-

-“Completely.”- Katsuki waved his hand, as if to say I can’t believe it either. Denki, lying on the bed, sat up suddenly. -“…Wait. Wait. Are you saying your face was—”-

-"BETWEEN HER BOOBS."- Kirishima burst out laughing so hard that he knocked the can over. -"Bro! WHAT THE ASS IS YOUR LUCK?!"-

-"FUCKING ASS! I WAS ABOUT TO DIE OF EMBARRASSMENT!"- Katsuki clutched his hair, his face red with frustration. -"And she even said I was 'hot.' What the fuck does that even mean?!"-

-"You were, man!"- Kirishima laughed, slapping him on the shoulder. --"Literally and more!"-

Denki, on the other hand, was much less cheerful. -"…I want to die."-

-"Huh?!"- Katsuki glared at him.

-"I mean…boobs in your face, bro. I'd pay for something like that. In fact, I'll volunteer if it ever happens again."-

-“I SWEAR I’LL EXPLODE YOUR HEAD, PIKACHU!”- Katsuki jumped up, a vein pulsing in his temple.

Kirishima was laughing too hard to stop them. -“Come on, come on! It was just an accident, right? But tell me the truth… did you think about it afterwards? Like… even for five seconds?”-

Then he turned around, slowly.

-“No.”-

-“You’re lying.”-

-“NO.”-

-“You’re lying like a stinker. You had your face between the boobs of the girl you like and you tell me that you don’t—”-

-“NOT TRUE, ASSHOLE!”-

Bakugou threw a pillow at Kirishima. Denki caught it and curled up like a puppy, sad.

-“I want tits in my face too…”-

Kirishima laughed even harder. -“You look bad, bro. Really bad.”-

Meanwhile, Katsuki sat back down, muttering through gritted teeth. -“It’ll never happen again anyway.”-

-“Mh-hm. Yeah, sure. Until she trips again, maybe when you’re alone in a room, and—”-

-“I SWEAR, IF YOU KEEP TALKING, I’LL MELTING YOUR TEETH INTO THE FLOOR!!”-

But underneath all that anger, there was a small, barely visible smile. That Kirishima noticed right away.

And Denki, between sighs, just said: -“Lucky are those with lucky faces…”-

Since that cursed night at the hot springs, something in Katsuki Bakugou had changed.

Not in the way he spoke. Not in the way he acted towards her (always grumpy, always rough). But in the way he… looked at YN.

More precisely: where he looked.

The first episode happened three days later. YN was bent over a desk, talking to Momo, while wearing a shirt that was a little looser than usual, but with a soft neckline, from which a suggestive view of her breasts peeked out.

Bakugou noticed her. In fact, he saw her immediately.

He remained still, his brain disconnecting for 0.7 seconds. A flash. A memory. His face buried in the soft warmth of those boobs.

Katsuki swallowed. -“Tsk.”-

He started to turn around. But his gaze? No. His gaze went back down, mercilessly glued to his cleavage.

Then there was that time during lunch. YN was sitting right in front of him. Her shirt was a little too tight because of the backpack on her shoulder.

Gaze. Straight. Again. Katsuki’s eyes went there without a filter, as if his brain had been left at the spa.

YN noticed. He slowly blushed. And she muttered, without looking at him: -“…If you want a photo, it lasts longer.”-

Katsuki spat out his rice. -“SHUT UP, YOU IDIOT!”-

One night in the dorm, Kirishima caught him staring at YN from afar, her laughing with Mina in a very thin tank top.

-“Bro. You are still looking at them.”-

-“NO.”- -“Yes.”- -“NO, I SAID!”-

-“Bro. You have that ‘I’ve been there’ look.”-

-“I SWEAR I’LL EXPLODE YOU!”-

The truth was simple. Once he saw her, once he got his face stuck in her… Bakugou couldn’t stop thinking about it.

The way they bounced slightly when she laughed. The way they swelled when she stretched. The way the water had caressed them that damned night.

And the fact that, every time he thought about it, his brain became a flock of chaotic explosions.

One night, as YN was adjusting her sweatshirt with only a sports top underneath, Katsuki looked at her for a second too long.

She crossed her arms, blushing. -“Are you still thinking about that time?”-

Katsuki whirled around, muttering in a hoarse voice, -“I’m thinking about blowing you up, for sure.”-

She smiled. And deep down, she knew full well that she was lying.

It was afternoon, in the dorms. Katsuki had just come back from training, his muscles tense and his anger at 120%. He had just sat down on the couch, when Denki Kaminari looked out with a look like a cat who saw fish in the sink.

-"Yo, Bakugou…"- -"What the fuck do you want now."-

Denki smiled, leaning overly nonchalantly against the back of the couch. -"You know, I was thinking about how much you've changed since… that night at the hot springs."-

Katsuki didn't answer. Just a withering look. But Denki wasn't intimidated.

-"You're… different. Like… you're absent. Absent-minded. Do you know what you look like?"- He paused dramatically. -"Someone who went nuts over a pair of boobs."-

Silence.

The explosion came. -"FUCK YOU, ASSHOLE!"-

Denki burst out laughing. -"Come on, bro! I'm not saying it's a bad thing, eh! I'd switch tomorrow, I swear! But it's a fact! You've become… how shall I say… a walking boobs' addiction!"-

-“I’M GRENADEING YOUR ASS, KAMINARI!”-

-“You can’t deny it, huh! Every time YN talks to you, your laser eye goes up your cleavage! Your brain is fried, bro!”-

Denki laughed, bent over. -“All you needed was a bubble in your nose while you were drooling!”-

-“FUCK YOU! I’M NOT DROOLING! I’M NOT LOOKING! I’M NOT THINKING! IT WAS A FUCKING COINCIDENCE!”-

Kirishima, who was passing by with a snack, stopped. -“Uh… technically, your face was planted between—”-

-“SHUT UP TOO, TOMATO HAIR!”-

Denki, at this point, had tears in his eyes. -“Bro, admit it: you’re possessed by boobs. It’s legitimate. I would be. Actually, I am, without even having it in my face…"-

-"YOU'VE ALWAYS BEEN A DUMMY, KAMINARI! I'M NOT LIKE YOU! I HAVE… DISCIPLINE! CONTROL! DIGNITY!"-

-"And two big boobs imprinted in my brain forever."-

-"FUCK YOU!"-

Denki raised his hands innocently. -"Okay, okay. But… if it ever happens again… you'll let me watch, right?"-

Katsuki stood up. His gaze was pure fire. -"I'll rip your eyes out of their sockets and fry them in a pan, okay?! If anyone besides me looks at YN—"-

He stopped. Denki stared at him with raised eyebrows.

-"…Besides you, huh?"-

Silence. Katsuki realized too late. Then he turned abruptly and walked out of the room, muttering,

-"Fuck you, you didn't hear shit!"-

Denki watched him disappear into the hallway, then said to Kirishima, -"It's official. He's gone. Kaput. Boobs: 1. Bakugou: 0."-

Kirishima smiled. -"I think he's even happy about it."-

[jamglii]

❀ knight in shining armor — yandere

incl /

warn / typical yandere stuff

note /

yandere!gaurd whod been assigned to you since birth, and sent to you at 13. since you'd met him he was brave, kind, and loyal to a fault.

thinking back on it now you cant think of a single time he'd taken someone elses side.

yandere!gaurd who tries not to be obvious about his feelings, your a princess for GODS sake, there isnt any point in pursuing you.

key word: tries

yandere!gaurd who follows you around like a puppy, he's always at your side and listens and obeys you without second thoughts, no matter how ridiculous.

in early days, when you hadn't exactly warmed up to the thought of a man watching over you 24/7 you'd started to realize two things.

one, he wasn't going anywhere.

two, he was infatuated with your words.

you used this fo your advantage, "come here my knight." you beckoned him and he was thwre within seconds, soft green eyes waiting for you expectantly.

"i want you to go to my mothers room and take my mirror, I've forgotten it and I'm just so tired right now, be a doll and get it for me?" you ask, watching the anxiety pass over hiss cheeks.

knights, even personal ones weren't even allowed in the hallway where the king ans queen stayed, if he was caugut doing this, he'd be killed. but maybe that was your goal.

"but m'lady..." he'd tried to argue but the frown you sprouting gave him a sense of guilt so heavy it override the fear he's felt from breaking the rules.

when he comes back with the mirror, unscathed and alive your so astounded you forget of your previous anger, this knight was nothing ordinary. he was your loyal dog, completely at your mercy. (?)

years passed and his affection only grew, and silently so did yours.

the both of you were 15 when something happened, your knight , listening to your worried cries of never experiencing any real romance before you'd be married off, suggested a solution.

"how about you me?"

you blink, sitting up from your canopy bed to face the broad shoulds sitting in the corner of your room.

"you?"

"yes, how about you and I, well, pretend of course. practice, or just imagine we're together. so that if you are ever–married off, you wouldn't be starved completely of romance, per say." theres a visible and obvious blush on his face, shuldering his neck in ears in a way that makes you see him differently.

"that's a great idea, oh I could kiss you right now!" you spring from your bed, unaware of how your words were affecting him.

"you could...m'lady." he mumbles as you twirl then stop to face him.

"could what?" you lean your ear in his direction, and your knight lifts his eyes immediately. you were still in your pajamas and no matter how innocent his mind always seemed to find a way to fall in the gutter.

"you could kiss me, if you wanted." its soft but you could hear enough.

"being shy now are we, knight?" you laugh, but it doesn't stop your nerves from fraying. you knight doesnt say anything. "charles."

charles swishes his head up faster than you'd ever seen before. you aren't supposed to call him by his name, and vice versa. this was considered a crime.

and yet..."charles." you state again. fuck, he was staring hard.

"y-yes my, p-princess." and he almost screams as you place his warm palms on your hips, soft from the fabric.

"kiss me." charles doesn't disobey, especially not if it's you.

the night you think, is probably the night that caused this and a long trail of other occurrences where you can your knight were closer than ever before.

charles is kissing down your neck, his muscles and arms trapping you under him. his tounge lapping at your side, his hands, warm and wandering.

you don't say anything as he unbuttons your top so many times as he had before.

but this time, he stops. "fuck, i'm sorry." he whispers.

you don't understand, "for what, my love?"

charles doesn't answer.

"for what charlie?" you try again.

"you can't be married unless it's to me. i can't ever let you go." and it's the first time since you'd been in his presnce that you feel scared.

"oh charles..." you stroke his hair, trying to calm your beating heart.

"i love you [Name]." he says again, pulling out a small green tinted needle, kissing your hand.

suddenly your aware of the position charles has you in, vunereable, naked, and trapped.

you don't say it back. "what?" you sob a little.

"I love you." is all you hear before your workd goes black.

masterlist

[vampimich]

P and the "wake up" whisper

--- Lies of P Base game spoilers ---

I don’t know if you all paid full attention to the scene right after P defeats the Mad Donkey (I know I didn’t for sure).

But there is a voice telling him to wake up.

Right as the stalker is lifeless on the floor and Geppetto is coming down of the carriage P muffles all the sound around him. He just watches the blood on his hands, human blood, as he is trying to figure out what he has just done. 

Sure, he has fought against puppets before, and of course no one has told him killing humans is something he mustn’t do. But he still feels different, even wrong. Even if he is a puppet and he in theory does not distinguishes morality or wrong from right, something inside is telling him killing should not always be the answer.

We can also hear a heart beating. We know that P hearts starts pounding ‘officially’ after we gain the maximum level of humanity and at the start of the game he barely has his springs reacting. But I don’t think this means his heart was not able to pound.

This was merely reflective of the fact that P himself could recognize or feel his own humanity. Things were happening with his body but he was unsure what it was; barely having connection to his feelings.

But this event shocked his heart so much that he actually heard it pounding, deafening him to every other external sound around him.

He was trying to make sense of what the sensation inside his ergo was and why he was reacting a certain way. And just before Geppetto breaks P out of this trance we can hear the “Wake up” being whispered to P.

It is coming from a male voice, and while I can’t seem to find any confirmation about who or what this voice was, my hypothesis is that this voice belongs to Carlo.

Carlo begging him to wake up. To free himself from the puppet strings. To don’t let himself be fooled by Geppetto. Because this killing happened because of Geppetto. And of course later in game we face other humans, but most of them we fight just because they are on their way to get us first, but we kill the Mad Donkey because we “had” to protect Geppetto. 

Yes, at the end he attacks us because he recognizes P as a puppet, but again, this was all because we were tasked with P’s father safety.

So I think that even if Carlo loved Geppetto, he knew what he did. To him, to Romeo and Lea and was pleading P desperately to wake up, to pay attention, to become self aware and take his own decisions.

And with this I think it would also make sense for me to confirm my theory that somehow Carlo had always been there in a way. His ego is not awoken of course (and probably will never do), but his the ergo is pretty much listening and reacting.

I feel he really wants to prevent himself/P from getting back his memories and relieving the painful stuff, and instead wants P to start on a blank canvas, living his own life, making his own choices, being his own person.

But this first human kill was so intense that he had to somehow intervene in a way, begging P to wake up, and who know, maybe this was the very initial step for P to start gaining humanity, aside from lying on the hotel door. 

This moment when he took a human life, is what got his heart experiencing disgust and maybe pain or grief of his own self and what impulsed him to try to experience things his own way and figure out how to be his own person.

But take this with a grain of salt, maybe I’m overreaching with this theory :p

Anyways, I’ve passed the game 4 times and I never noticed this before! If it was not because @cinnapiss made it apparent for me, this detail would have been lost to me!

(If you wanna see the exact moment you can go to this video: https://youtu.be/Mz1fXYJV2XQ?si=VLBxu-HMvZppVje4&t=1359 it is better if you watch it with headphones!)

[chonnysinferno]

uhhhh fart and mint i n, yea and soul cause. astrjum watned to draw. himsrlf i guess

[harbingersecho]

trying to smash thru the artblock by doing random stuff for mermay so... fish

[liliavalley]

julie is that flower bothering you queen

[lerildeal]

doodles for a game I haven’t played in over 5 years 😔

[xxplastic-cubexx]

the more i think about erik with a beard the more i like it but i still prefer him with a stubble/clean shaven … your art makes him look so good tho

i too prefer him with stubble or clean but i concur.... the beard is vaguely growing on me....

[lovesodeepandwideandwell]

Feeling the need to chart out my worries again and write through God's answers to all of them and wow it's been over a year since I did that

[microwavetoaster-selfships]

How am I gonna F/O imagines my way through this one yall(pollen has finally reached a point of kicking my ass again).

Okay well my ass hasn't gotten kicked yet but it's at the point where the box of tissues is staying with me in my bed and a nice make-shift trash bin(it's a paper bag, it's how we reuse grocery bags) is at my bed side.

[goldenstorm0]

OH SHIT I JUST REALIZED MY TAX RETURN DEPOSITED

IM GONNA BUY A NEW PEN FOR MY BIRTHDAY

[spilling-blood]

Dear fucking lord I made it to the weekend fuck.

[tsukacchako]

my apple pen broke again ... iM GONNA KILL MYSELF!!!!!!

[supersymmetries]

i've finally reached the part in the semester where we're covering the second law of thermodynamics. matt bellamy we're in it together now

[supercantaloupe]

at the end of rehearsal too while i was packing up one of the conducting students came over to me and asked if i was interested in playing for his informal lunchtime concert series he recently started up. i was like sure but i don't have anything prepared to play, but i guess i could do something in the future. and then he asked if me and the principal oboe would play something together and i was like well if we had something to play sure, maybe next spring sometime. and then i mentioned to him that we're attempting to get a wind quintet going (need to find a bassoon first) so if that gets off the ground we could probably play for him too. and he grinned and went "i want that"