#or if we do learn he still prefers scratch

[the5n00k]

Yknow I almost hope we never learn Scratch's human name. It'd be so weird having this character we knew as this thing for so long actually having been named this other thing the entire time. And would Molly have to call him by his true name? I'm so attached to Scratch and got so used to it that any change would be so jarring (especially to new viewers stumbling upon new episodes on Disney channel)

(I hate beating a dead horse but I think that's why I really really don't like wraith theory, or at least one of the several leading factors)

[toto-the-cactus]

Primarchs + Daughters

My perception of how each Primarch would behave when nosediving into parenthood if they had daughters. Enjoy!

I wanna personally thank @moodymisty because a great deal of their works inspired this piece.

Part 1 - Part 2

Lion El’jonson

The embodiment of 'tough love' made man. Having a daughter doesn’t do much to soften this guy… or at least that’s what others believe. The Dark Angels Legion are probably the only ones aware of the small gestures the Primarch often gives to his little girl in the safety that privacy offers. Where Lion lacks words of compassionate and parental love, he appropriately makes up for it with actions. He isn’t one to go over the top and prefers to give modest gifts to his daughter as the last thing the man wants is to raise a spoiled brat. Father-daughter bonding time can be summarized with strenuous training using the sword. This man will not let his precious Princess go through life without learning how to protect herself, even if he has made an oath to forever shield her too.

Fulgrim

The complete antithesis of Lion. Where this man views the Emperor as the perfection anyone should strive to reach, his beautiful daughter comes close to the second place in fulfilling that ideal. There’s a big fat chance that he teared up a little when his little gem called him Papa for the first time, but managed to wear his ever unshakable mask because he absolutely refuses to break character even in private. Has the mistaken notion that his baby is a blank canvas ready to be painted to its fullest potential; aka, molding her to what HE wants and expects of her. Fulgrim probably spoils her rotten but only through conditions that she must follow, as the Primarch understands the importance of fighting and earning for what you wish to obtain. He makes sure that any of his gene-sons are in her company as he refuses to let even a single scratch happen to his little girl. Honestly, a grown-up version of Fulgrim’s child has the chances to go both opposites of the spectrum with no in betweens: A shy aristocratic lady who is unable to speak her own mind or a completely haughty, sharp and manipulative noble woman. Too much to unpack there, yo.

Perturabo

(Slaps this bastard's head loudly) This bad boy can fit so much family trauma in it! Okay no but seriously, there’s a good reason why so many people agree that this bitch has a thing for gilded cages and all the fucked up poetry that comes with it. The good ol’ classic Greek tragedy of Medea. Perturabo may have big and insane expectations for his gene-sons but when it comes to having a daughter? The apple of his eyes. The sunshine of his life. For this Primarch, his little princess is the only living thing in the entire universe that loves him genuinely and unconditionally, making his love the equivalent of a child crushing a bird between his hands. While still easy to anger and with a resting-bitch face, he is incredibly tame and careful with his girl; always making sure that she is well versed in all kinds of science and engineering that could easily label her as a genius (but we all know how stressful can be to try and live up to big expectations). Most of his Legion finds the child either an annoyance or don’t even care enough beyond the factual point of her being the child of their mighty Primarch, beyond that? This poor girl is probably the loneliest child to ever grace the world. Remember that I referred to this like the Tragedy of Medea? Yeah…

Jaghatai Khan

Probably one of the few best papa-tier out there. This man will see his little daughter and think the only thing a good parent should do: To love and guide. He’ll be not afraid to say “I love you” to his baby girl no matter where they are, but he’ll know when to be stern and wise so she grows to be a fine and humble woman. Honestly, this guy would learn how to make a sling just for the single purpose of having his precious princess close while also being excited to teach her how to ride on a horse like he did in his childhood. The thing that makes this dude the best in this list is that if his daughter ever expresses to follow a different path in life like becoming a remembrancer or anything that doesn’t involve the Imperium, this Chad of a man will look deep into her eyes and tell her that he’ll support her no matter what. The only thing he asks is that she stays in contact as he’ll miss her terribly. Kudos to him, fr.

Leman Russ

Another one for the ‘tough love’ guys list, yo! On his defense! Hear me out… in his defense, this guy was literally raised first by Fenrisian wolves before even knowing what a proper bath entailed, so of course he’ll sometimes be a bit too much on his poor little baby girl. Roughhousing was his best first approach to teach her how to fight, trying to make his little pup have some proper backbone worthy of being called the child of a Primarch. Sometimes he’ll get carried away (either with words or actions) and is in those moments when Leman would learn what genuine and heavy guilt feels like; a very alien emotion for someone as brutal and fierce as he is. There’s no worse feeling than knowing that you are the reason behind your daughter’s tears. No one would ever say it out loud, but the way this giant of a man apologizes is by slowly and silently hugging his little girl while pouting until she hugs him back. He may suck at expressing verbally his love towards his baby, but actions are his best way to communicate and this is something his daughter eventually learns and accepts from him. Forgot to add that the entire Space Wolves Legion are not only suffocatingly protective of their Primarch’s child, but everyone takes turns when she asks them for piggy-rides or let her braid their hair.

Rogal Dorn

I don’t wanna be too mean to this poor man but lord have some mercy, trying to squeeze any emotion that doesn’t range to watching paint dry from this damn guy is already a miracle on its own. He’s probably the kind of dude that’ll leave his poor daughter in the care of his astartes and serfs while he works. Workaholic in bold, yo. It literally will take watching his poor little princess cry her eyes out for him to attempt some bonding time but man he just sucks at trying not to have a stick up his ass (Again, I’m not trying to be mean but god this is painful). This is the kind of man, besides Guilliman, that will search high and low for some paternity books to help him. At the end this father-daughter relationship can be salvageable by having a heart to heart between them both and even then, is the poor girl the one that gives more than she receives. Honestly, any daughter from Dorn has the patience of a saint. Besides this Primarch's ineptitude to properly communicate his feelings, everything else doesn’t change the fact that he loves his little princess and will do anything to make her as happy as possible so he gets some brownie points for the try.

I'll later write the second and third part of this, I swear <333

[elysia-nsimp]

Hello scary Danganronpa community I would like to leave my Korekiyo redesign here an an offering please do not hunt me for sport /hj

Details and stuff (giant bricks of autistic text) below cut

Okay so in canon, we know Kiyo’s sister made his uniform and (I THINK) (DONT QUOTE ME ON THIS) he canonically doesn’t like it very much but wears it because of the whole… sister thing.

This redesign is meant to NOT be just a replacement of the OG design, but takes place in a non-despair AU where Kiyo actually learns that the relationship he had with his sister was NOT a healthy one. He gets support from his classmates and possibly the therapy he DESPERATELY NEEDS, and after beginning to accept his situation, he makes his OWN uniform with help and input from his peers.

That being said, what all did I do and what was my thought process?

- his og outfit was highly inspired by military-style clothing, and. *The anti-semetic armband.* so all that went in the trash because I didn’t like it

- I put him in more comfy traveling clothes—a soft button-up, a cardigan, slightly baggy pants, high travel boots. He travels a lot so might as well be comfy for it! The boots have a fluffy lining for cold weather

- I changed the hat. He needed a hat still but I changed it from a military style hat to a sea man type hat. It just felt right.

- kept the mask, but he wears it more because of his travels—lots of diseases. + his sister died of illness so he’s cautious about that. (I did change some of his story too but I tried to keep the big plot points while not romanticizing it)

- kept the bandages too. He does a lot of field work so I imagine he gets scratches a lot. Just another precaution to protect himself when traveling.

- I wanted to use the rope and rose motifs in his official art. I was so disappointed there wasn’t more of that. So his cardigan and pants have matching vine patterns and he has a rope tied around his waist—it’s there because sometimes you need a rope yknow. It’s a tool but also stylish/hj

- it’s commented on in the game how he’s very feminine (QUEER) and how he “has the kind of beauty that puts female colleagues to shame” ??? which is a weird way of forshadowing BUT I decided he gets to have long eyelashes and longer nails.

- his locket has been moved from his breast pocket to a necklace.

- and lastly I kinda liked the weird stringy hair thing Danganronpa does sometimes?? I just gave it more volume because . Yeah.

So yeah those are my big notes. How about some more story-based explanations?

- Kiyo got used to the darker palette (plus it keeps the mysterious spooky vibe the creators were going for), so he just kept that.

- all the material is soft and breathable, which was his priority when looking for the base clothing pieces!

- Angie helped him with the rose and vines! They’re embroidered. All Kiyo said was that he felt it was all very green and wanted to bring back some red, something about roses, and that’s what Angie came up with for him. He really liked how it came out

So yeah :] I hope y’all enjoy, I like the final product. Definitely not intended to be canon in the event of the killing game universe but I’ve always preferred exploring non-despair AUs.

If anyone WANTS to hear about the story changes I made lmk but uhhh I’m not making that my first Danganronpa post ahahahahahahha (<- read this as frightened and shaking like a chihuahua)

Again please don’t shoot me point blank danganronpa community

[neoameba]

Hey, how was your day/night?

i was wondering if I could request a Gyutaro x male reader, please.

Like sfw and nsfw headcanons(if your ok with nsfw), or maybe like a nsfw story about the reader wanting to go on him, and him being embarrassed about his looks and we tell him that his beautiful and all that stuff? Thanks for reading this!

Gyutaro x Male! Reader Headcanons

Warnings: sfw and nsfw content, slightly abusive behaviors, mentions of blood. There are headcanons for ftm people, nsfw is below keep reading!

☆ Your relationship would not be easy, at least in the beginning. He is a reserved guy and loves to scare people, so be prepared for subtle threats.

☆ Now if you were an oni and especially an upper moon, things would change quite a lot. He wouldn't respect you at all at first, like a spoiled brat. But after the relationship, he would be more clingy. Not on an extreme level, but he would respect you and constantly give you compliments.

☆ And speaking of compliments, Gyutaro loves them. "You're such a handsome man... So strong... I can't believe you're with a guy like me..." And if you were a human, he would still continue to give you compliments, albeit with some insults. "You are so fragile, my love... Such a pathetic human but so beautiful..."

☆ Daki doesn't really like you at first. She hates men and the only one she allows to be by her side is her older brother. Gyutaro really wanted you guys to get along, but he would never pressure his sister to accept you, so he just prefers you stay away from her. Nothing would change if you were a upper moon, the only difference is that Daki wouldn't tell you to your face that she despises you.

☆ But over time, she would learn to deal with you. And after a long time, you would have a healthy relationship as far as possible. Gyutaro loves this and doesn't want to hide it.

☆ Gyutaro doesn't know how to express his feelings. Everything he feels is too overwhelming for him. So, he wouldn't say "I love you", he would scratch your skin while enjoying the blood flowing with a smile on his face. He wouldn't do that in your face, so as not to ruin your beauty.

☆ If you were a human, he would bring you food and some bandages as an "apology", since he knows you are fragile and those cuts were deep. Now, if you were an oni, prepare to receive a million bodies of your favorite humans. Do you prefer to eat men? Here it is, the best ones for you. This isn't an apology for scratching your skin, since he knows you weren't hurt. It's another way to show affection.

☆ He would often ask Daki's opinion in dealing with you since he has never dated and has no experience with men. The problem is that Daki's experiences weren't exactly romantic, which would lead to slight embarrassment.

NSFW

☆ I don't see Gyutaro as a restricted dom/top, or restricted sub/bottom. If you were top, he wouldn't mind being the passive one. He's just very inexperienced, and would trust whatever you say is best.

☆ He loves praise and reassurance, even during sex. If he was the bottom, I'd love to hear your voice telling you how beautiful he looks writhing in pleasure beneath you, or how cute he looks while riding you. And if he was the top one, he would definitely whisper in your ear how beautiful you are, and how warm and comfortable your body is for him.

☆ His favorite positions are the ones where he can look straight into your face and the ones where he doesn't have to move as much. Although, when he is the top one, he hates anything slow.

☆ He cries with pleasure when he is the passive one. It's simply a lot to deal with. He would grab the sheets and ask you to stop (spoiler: don't stop, he wants you to be even more aggressive).

☆ Punishments? He hates it. The worst are the ones where he can't look at you. So blindfolds and positions where his face is against you drive him crazy. On the other hand, when he becomes more experienced at it, he loves to punish you. He hurts you a lot in these punishments, even too much. If you are a human, you better not make any mistakes.

☆ If you are ftm/afab, I wouldn't change anything. He would still love you and have no problem with sex. If you were the top/dom one, he probably wouldn't be able to take a bounce before asking for a break. If you were the bottom, he would make a point of going as deep into your cunt as possible, and would always tease you with it. Of course, at first he didn't even know he could go that deep without hurting you.

☆ He has no idea what "aftercare" is. Explain to him and one of two things: either he'll think it's a waste of time because he's an oni, or he'll get the best beginner aftercare of all. If you were a human, regardless of whether you are bottom or top, he would take care of you afterwards, even in his own way. If you were an oni, he would be the one who would have to do the aftercare. Not because he needs it, but maybe, and just maybe... Because he likes to be taken care of by you.

Author's note (my notes :P)!

I hope you liked it, and that it turned out the way you wanted!

I don't post nsfw here, but I decided to break the rule and make an exception for you ♪⁠┌⁠|⁠∵⁠|⁠┘⁠♪

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。EASY — KAVEH.

✩ — contents ⋮ fluff, gn! reader, established relationship, slight hints to kaveh’s past (but no details), a word vomit of what i think it is to date kaveh bc he has stolen my whole heart soul and mind :,)

“good morning, sleepy head.” you press a soft kiss to the forehead on your chest, moving messy strands of hair with careful fingers. “we really should get up, you know.”

“no.”

“kaveh.”

“no,” comes his protest. he’s stubborn, doesn’t give in even when you pry the sheets off his bare back, feeling him shiver at the cool air as it meets his skin. and yet, you can’t help but soften your gaze as you stare down at him, cheek pressed against you as he sighs before drifting off again.

kaveh is easy to fall for.

he’s a gentle lover, sensitive and delicate around the corners. you find him in the warmth that coats your skin from the sun every morning, in the honey you taste on your lips when tea is ready on the counter before you leave, in the soft sheets that are always freshly washed and ready to lay on when you come back after a long day.

“we have lots to do—”

he groans, tightens his arms around you stubbornly. “it’s not time to wake up yet,” he huffs, digging his head deeper into you and making you giggle.

“maybe you shouldn’t have stayed up so late doing that project,” you poke the tip of his nose, watching as it crinkles at your touch.

and then you trace the apples of his cheeks, feel the familiar indents of his bones through the soft skin, familiarize yourself with every piece of him. kaveh is easy love, and difficult to forget. he’s the quiet voice tucked into your shoulder at night, the pair of shoes you know not to trip over at the door, the mess of tools that are still assorted in their own way on the table that you dare not touch, the pillow on the left side of the bed because that’s the side he prefers, the random sketches in corners of every paper around your home.

kaveh is easy to love, and you find him in every corner, look for him at every turn.

“i had a stroke of artistic inspiration,” he sniffs petulantly, “you wouldn’t understand.”

“oh, i see,” you nod seriously. he opens an eye, raises a brow unimpressed at your faux seriousness. “then of course, please disregard your sleep and health. all for the sake of inspiration.”

“hmph.” it’s indignant, the sound of defiance he makes, it makes you chuckle as your weave your fingers through his locks and scratch gently at his scalp. “i can sleep just fine if you’re not persistently ringing in my ear about waking up.”

“but i want breakfast,” you pout. “wake up.”

“breakfast can wait.” you feel his nose dig into your neck, and then the soft press of lips against your skin makes you melt against the sheets.

perhaps if it’s kaveh who requests, you’re inclined to relent.

“if you ever say i don’t favor you, i’ll burn your sketchbook,” you mumble. and still, even despite the slight grumble against your shoulder, you can’t help but smile brightly, turning your head and planting a kiss to the side of his head.

“how can you favor me if you interfere with my livelihood,” he mutters bitterly—but there’s really no bite to his words.

it’s endearing, the way he’s devoted to his career. it’s the first thing you learn about kaveh when you meet him one night—you watch in awed amusement as he rambles at the tavern about the lacking interior design in his drunken stupor. and then he’s there the next day too, drinking just as heavily as the night before—it makes you quirk a brow as you sit beside him.

drinking this often is not a good habit, you say to him. he glances at you, blinks a moment before he huffs.

well you would too if you had a roommate like mine, he starts—and you’re sure the entirety of the tavern can hear him as he spills his woes to you without even realizing.

kaveh is hard to miss from then on. you see him at the fresh fruit stands when you walk through the market, at the akademiya requesting (demanding) funding from the acting grand sage, at the fields smiling with the children as they play and he ruffles their hair.

he’s nervous when he asks you on your first date, stumbles over his words and rubs the back of his neck, but his smile is earnest and his eyes are kind. he’s clumsy as he takes you to dinner, trips over his own feet as he scrambles to hold the door open. he’s a few mora short, blushing and mortified as he pats his pockets for more, mumbling how he’s sure he’d had enough when you giggle and complete the bill. he’s talkative through the night, rambles about his job and his projects, tells you details you don’t understand but can’t help but catch every word. he’s a bit shy when you hold his hand as you walk home, coughs a bit too loud to hide the hitched breath in his throat. he’s inexperienced when he leans in to kiss you, missing your lips for the corner of your mouth instead and stuttering over his words as he tries to explain he’s never done this before.

and when he takes a deep breath, cupping your cheeks with both hands and looking at you with conviction like he’s now made his life’s purpose to kiss you properly, you know you love kaveh.

you know you love him—somewhere during the first date. maybe the first meet. definitely the first kiss.

because kaveh is easy to love, even if he doesn’t know it himself.

he’s easy to love through soft kisses under the sheets, easy to love through gleaming eyes and animated hands as he speaks, easy to love through those moments of doubt and festering guilt of the past, easy to love through that innocence that wants to see the world for all that’s good and never for what’s bad.

kaveh is easy to love. so you love him. unconditionally so, from when the sun meets the moon and over again. continuing the cycle, holding him in your arms and pressing your lips to the soft skin of his forehead. and maybe, one day, if you continue to love him as easily as you do, he’ll learn to love himself too, to see the way he deserves the tenderness you show him.

“—and just so you know, inspiration isn’t something you can elect to ignore. some artists go months, if not years without an ounce of—”

“i love you,” you interrupt his rambling, voice soft and breathless and seeping with affection that he’s not felt in so long, he pauses with wide eyes.

it’s not the first time you’ve said it, and it certainly won’t be the last, but it’ll never feel quite like this time.

“yeah,” he says shakily, clutching you tighter, “i love you too.”

and maybe one day, he hopes if he loves you hard enough himself, you’ll know you’re just as easy to love too.

your honor he’s my everything 🥹 please i would steal the moon and stars for him 🥹

[tragedybunny]

A Lovely Night - Astarion x F!Reader - TW: Mentions of past suicide attempts

Just an idea that came to me that I had to write. I promise next thing up is one of the requests that was waiting for awhile.

You and Astarion share a quiet night at camp and end up getting to know a lot more about each other and your relationship.

“Astarion, honestly,” you scold, fussing with one tent pole. “You’re making this difficult on purpose.” 

“I don’t know what you mean, my Dear,” he smirks, and moves suddenly, the half-finished tent collapsing on itself. It’s just a little game to maximize his time with you. The longer you two work at this, the less chance the others have to steal you away. 

“Gods, I’m going to sharpen one of these into a nice, pointy stake.” Your threat is undercut by a poorly concealed smile.

“Oh, what a cruel thing to say.” He widens his eyes at you, all feigned hurt. 

“That’s it, set it up yourself!” Throwing your hands up, you start to walk away, when he catches you, arms around your waist, pulling you in. 

“Fine, fine, I apologize,” little kisses pepper your neck as you squirm, still playing at a show of indignation, and start to giggle. 

“Let me go, you vile beast,” you’ve twisted until you face him, and he brushes his lips against yours. 

Words die away, and you rest your forehead against his, arms looping around his neck. Another soft kiss and the two of you have forgotten the tent entirely. 

Someone groans intentionally loud enough for you both to hear and the two of you dissolve into laughter. Astarion lets you go. The two of you really should make sure you have some place to sleep tonight anyway.

When the tent is finally up, you settle next to each other by the fire. Gale’s cooking again, which Astarion finds preferable. Sometimes when unoccupied, he stares at you like a parched man at a cool stream. Reaching for your hand, his fingers brush the scar on your wrist. At first, he hadn't noticed it existed, his mind divorcing itself from his body when he was intimate with you. Later he'd found it, when he was trying to study and memorize every bit of you while denying the ever-growing place in his heart that you occupied. 

You hadn't told him about what led to it, and he hadn’t known how to ask. Tonight you jerk back as though burnt when his touch finds it, and he wants to be hurt. But you've given him space and patience, he could at least do the same for you. 

So he hooks his arm around your waist and pulls you close until your head rests on his shoulder as you both stare at the crackling fire. "Favorite season," he asks. It's a little game the two of you invented, learning otherwise small details about each other. You knew the larger parts of his past, Cazador and all, and he knew the broad swathes of yours. You left home because you disagreed with your parents, he'd started to figure you for a noble before you'd all but admitted it, and you were a Warlock who couldn't say much beyond that. But the tiny details of you, those you could be free with. 

"Spring, it feels full of second chances and rebirth." You nuzzle your face into his shoulder. 

"Summer," that's the rule, you both have to answer, "it's the only time the night feels alive, even if it is short." 

A sympathetic noise and you kiss his cheek. "A pet that's not a dog or cat?"

"Rabbits," he answers without hesitation. 

"Really?" 

"They make a rather compliant food supply in a pinch."

"Astarion!" You try to sound scandalized, like you didn't know you were in a relationship with a vampire. Playfully, you swat at his shoulder. "Pets are not for eating." 

Scratch gives him a look from across the fire, the mutt never far from your side. "I thought we weren't judging each other," he scolds with a smile. "Your turn."

“What could I trust you with? Maybe something more appropriate like a raven,” you snicker, and he rolls his eyes knowing you can see him. “Oooh, maybe a bat.” 

“Are you making fun of me? You know, if we had anything like that, the neighbors would figure me out for sure, and then there’d be a mob after me. Is that what you want?” 

“Well I can’t trust you not to eat the rabbits it would seem, so what am I supposed to do,” the last word is squeezed out between giggles. Gods, it’s amazing to hear you laugh, even if it is at his expense. 

“Fine, no eating any pets. I promise,” he uses the same honeyed tone from the first days of knowing you, stifling his own laughter. It’s absurd, and wondrous, it almost feels like you're talking about real possibilities of some future beyond all this. 

“What about chickens? What if we had a farm with a bunch of chickens. Would I have to chase you out of the hen house like a fox?” 

“Madame, I’m highly insulted, you would think so low of me. Also, birds are harder to catch than you would think.” Arms crossed, he pouts. 

“You poor thing,” you kiss his temple, “I’m sorry for offending you.” Settling back down, you sigh wistfully. "That would be nice, wouldn't it? A little farm, the middle of nowhere, after we deal with everything."

"If that would make you happy. I'll refrain from any untoward curiosity about your chickens." Not that he ever expects you would really want that with him, you'll come to your senses after all this. 

"Deal. Seal it with a kiss?" He barely gets the agreement out and your lips are on his, gentle at first, waiting for his lead to something more fervent. Lips part, he invades your mouth, the noise you make music to him. A small step, a moment of desire that doesn't send him hurtling back into the abyss. 

"Dinner is done, if you two can tear yourselves apart for a few minutes," Gale practically scolds from across the fire.  

You pull away, blushing, another musical laugh echoing around him. “We can continue this later.” Reluctantly, he surrenders you to dinner, and the conversations the others pull you into. 

After what seems like an eternity, the two of you are finally alone again, the dying fire casting a soft light through the walls of the tent. In the flickering shadows, he watches as you begin to strip, casting the day away as you toss your garments to the side. The sight of you unclothed no longer sparks anxiety, now just a casual expression of your comfort around him. He drinks you in, alluring and unguarded. You are, admittedly, very pretty, but there's something beyond that. It’s that heart of yours, full of kindness, even for someone like him. 

"Why do you always have to play the hero?" He'd accosted you once after yet another noble deed.

"I can't just look away when I could've done something. This is a choice I make every day Astarion. To try to do what's right." You tapped his nose lightly with a finger, and he glared at you. "Even when it comes to you, my dear bloodsucker."

Somehow that was even more amazing to him. Kindness and goodness didn't just come to you, you fought to be that person. He suspected it was against a past that had tried to teach you the opposite.

You reach for the loose nightshirt you'd pulled from your pack. "Leave it off, please." Pausing, you give him a questioning look. "I just want to feel you tonight." 

The way your eyes softened at that made his still heart tremble. "Alright, Love."

After you settled among the blankets, he lays down in your arms, back pressed to your chest, your arms wrapping around him. He knows the touch of his skin brings a chill to yours, but that’s what the generous pile of blankets is for, so he pulls them over the both of you, trapping the warmth of you. 

"This is nice," you say, kissing his neck and shoulders until he feels the tension in his muscles giving way, and he relaxes in your embrace. 

Inhaling, his nostrils are filled with the scent of you. It's the most wondrous thing, and somehow it clings to everything now that you share a bed; blankets, pillows, even his clothes. He's surrounded by you all the time, and even more amazing, he smells himself on you, tangible proof you’re really his. His in the way that you gave yourself to him, just as he was yours. 

Something still feels unsettled in him though, a curiosity, no a concern, from earlier. “Can I touch it?” He blurts without thinking. 

Feeling you stiffen behind him, he curses, you’d had such a lovely evening, and now he’d ruined it. An arm unwraps from him, and you hold it where his fingers could find it. “Go ahead.” 

Two fingers caress it, running along your wrist, deep, straight, no jagged edges. A sharp blade and no hesitation, did they find you before it was too late, or was magic needed to bring you back? A cry tries to tug its way out of his throat, but he clamps his lips shut. There was almost a world without you, a world where you weren’t there to find him on that beach. The thought presses down, threatening to strangle him, and he tries to blink away tears. But he can feel your pulse thrumming under that scar, you’re here, you survived, and you found him. “If anyone ever makes you feel like this again, I’ll tear their throat out.” He knows you can’t say the why or when of it, but he’ll be damned if it ever happens again. 

“Hmm,” you don’t elaborate, but let him keep on with the small circles he’s now rubbing on your wrist. 

“What?” It was probably a stupid notion, look how far you’d brought this group, whatever your past, you didn’t need protection anymore. 

“It’s just different, thinking about someone trying to protect me.” 

“I do try…” Not that you could tell, apparently. 

Your arm shifts back, and before he can be anxious, it finds its previous spot, encircling his chest. Lips bury themselves in his curls and back down along his neck again. “I know. I meant, I don’t know, emotionally.” You huff, and he finds one of your hands to squeeze. “If I was happy never mattered much before.” 

“Well, it matters now.” There’s a deluge of emotion threatening in your words behind a dam that barely holds it back. That’s not for tonight though, or any night soon, he knows you have to finish this fight first. But when he can, when you’re ready, he’ll be there, repayment for the way you hold his heart with a delicate touch. 

“I think I’m starting to realize that.” Another kiss, this one on his ear, making him shiver. “I love you, Astarion.” 

“I love you too. Just…please don’t ever forget that.” It’s all gone entirely too serious. “Withers doesn’t need any more of our gold.” 

Behind him, you make a sound that’s half laugh, half sob, your face is wet where you press it into his shoulder. “Just whine at him, it seems to work well enough on the rest of us.” 

You pull him tight against you, and for this moment, everything is perfect and wonderful and lovely. Tag List:

@micropoe10 @spacebarbarianweird@writingmysanity @mxxny-lupin @azu21 @tallymonster @dependsonthedream @sunfire-ancunin @bambamwolf87 @fayeriess @lumienyx @lisrelly

[holidayinhell]

Interview

CWs: references to noncon, violence

1. Would you rather - Rope or Chains?

R: Rope.

W: Chains, dear god, chains any day. Ropes fucking burn.

2. If Whumpee had multiple Whumpers, who is their favourite? For Whumpers, which Whumpee was your favourite?

R: Yeah, I’ve got a favorite. A couple years back I had a Whumpee who fought me at every turn. He'd throw his food at me, cuss me out, and try to attack me. One time he scratched absolute shit outta my arms. Anyways, I got tired of his shitty attitude and decided to kill him. I didn't keep it a secret, I told him he was gonna die. But when I went in to do it, he changed completely. No more screaming, no spark in his eye. He got quiet. Heh, he got all lovey dovey with me even. You know, lots of people say they’ll do anything if only you’ll spare their life. I never did cash in on that promise, but on this Whumpee, I put it to the fucking test. Heh. He let me do whatever I wanted to him. Depraved, horrible things, that would make the most degenerate man blush. Heh, and even though he was crying through most of it, he still pretended to like everything I did to him. And god. You should’ve seen his eyes when I told him I was still gonna kill him. That look. I think about it still.

W: I can’t. glances over at Whumper. Next question please.

3: In your opinion, what is the best way to train a pet?

R: Humans are fickle fucking beasts. You have to break down someone’s pride in order to train them. I start off with food deprivation, that usually helps me gauge what kind of fight I’m in for.

W: Positive reinforcement has always worked for me… I’ve only ever had a pet bearded dragon though.

4: Broken ribs or bullet wound? 

R: Both.

W: These questions are uncomfortable to answer. But, uh, bullet wound I guess. Assuming it didn’t graze any organs.

5: Preferred type of gag? 

R: I like a fabric gag. Or a simple piece of duct tape. Sometimes they come off and I get to squeeze a little scream out of Whumpee, and then I put a fresh one right back on. I kinda like the cycle of it.

W: I don’t have a preference… none? I guess the metal bit one isn't the worst of them. It hurts my teeth but at least I can still kinda breathe.

6: Burned or stabbed?

R: Stabbed.

W: Stabbed, I guess?

7: Favourite stress position? 

R: An old-fashioned hogtie. I guess I’m unimaginative but I don’t get too crazy into the BDSM shit. Who has the patience for that?

W: Uhh.. just, handcuffs behind my back. Something relatively comfortable.

8: Have you given or received any Brands? What do they signify?

R: Heh. No. Never been branded. I certainly have had my fun branding Whumpee though.

W: I… have two… Uhm. One on my chest that, thank Christ, is almost all the way healed. It said, uh, swine. The other one is on my back, it’s a lot worse. I don’t know what it says but I can feel it so it’s um, it’s here to stay, I guess.

R: It says Nice Try. Remember?

W: Not really.

R: From your second half-hearted escape attempt. Didn't realize you forgot. But I did hit you pretty fucking hard that night.

9: Broken arm or broken leg? 

R: Leg.

W: Arm. A million times, arm.

10: How did you get here? Why are you the way that you are?

R: I live here. Far as I know, I’ve always been 'like this'-- whatever the hell that means. And I don’t see a problem with it. We’re all free to do as we like, so that’s what I fucking do.

W: I dunno. I, I was outside, it was dark and I think it was raining…yeah… heading home from the bar. I didn’t drink that much. I didn’t live that far, either, so the rain wasn’t a problem. I remember falling down and then… I woke up here. And I’ve been here ever since.

11: What is your biggest regret?

R: I wish this Whumpee could’ve learned a thing or two from my defiant Whumpee in the second question you asked. I wanna get my dick sucked like that every fucking night.

W: Regrets... yeah, I've got a few. One stands out. It was late at night, Whumper didn't tie me up. I snuck out of my cell and I made it to the steps. Almost to the top, nearly all the way out. The door was unlocked and cracked open a little, I thought I could make a run for it and—

R: —I was waiting for you at the top. Heh. I wanted to see if you'd run, and you sure tried to. Not so much after that, though.

12: Is there a line you won’t cross? For Whumpee, what do you most fear Whumper might do?

R: A line I wouldn’t cross? Uhhh…. No. No, I don’t think so. I’ll cross any fucking line. turns to Whumpee, grinning. So what are you afraid of, Whumpee?

W: I, um. Does he really have to be here when I answer these questions?

R: Tell them, Whumpee.

W: Can I whisper it to you? (he’s already done so much to me, so fucking much… it’s dumb but I don’t want him to shave my head.)

R: smirks. You know I heard that.

13: What lessons have you taken away from your experience?

R: Everything has been the same old, same old for me. Guess this Whumpee’s lasted longer than the rest of ‘em. He’s coming up on a year soon. Kind of impressive he’s stuck around this long and hasn’t given me a reason to kill him yet.

W: I don’t know. I do what I’m told so I can eat. I take it day by day. I guess the lesson I’ve learned is that abandoning pride is the only way to survive…

14: Whip or cane?

R: Whip.

W: Yeah. Whip.

R: Didn’t expect you to say that. Noted.

15: Drugged or coherent?

R: Depends on the situation. Drugging them is useful for transport but I don’t much like it when they’re too dazed to understand what’s happening. Sometimes they fall asleep, too.

W: Drug me any fucking day. I don’t care. I’ll take whatever you have.

16: What are your true, honest feelings about each other? Is there some part of you that cares for the other at all?

R: Sometimes I like to touch him. He’s warm and it’s funny when he tries to squirm away. Plus I like it when he begs me to stop. But do I care about him? …eh. Sure, sorta. He’s my plaything.

W: Erm. Thanks, I guess. For me… Whumper is the reason I’m here. I guess I’m appreciative for the food… but he does hurt me. A lot. Constantly.

R: You're very welcome.

17: What is your favourite thing about the other? A personality trait, a physical feature, anything

R: He’s got pretty hair. A kind of pretty face, too. Yeah, almost like a girl. Heh. And he makes good sounds when he’s screaming.

W: Ah. Fuck. I really don’t know how to answer this…

R: Come on. What’s your favorite part?

W: Um. Well, I'll say this: Whumper is smart. Scary smart. I don’t think anyone would ever imagine how smart. I don’t know. I don’t. It’s… terrifying.

18: Do you have relationships outside of each other? Friends, family - if yes, do they know about Whumpee? Do they care?

R: Yes, yes, and no.

W: I have a half sister in, uh, Arkansas. We’re not close, obviously… used to have friends I guess, but it’s been a long time since I saw them…

19: What other hobbies do/did you have?

R: Video games. 

W: I used to play saxophone. A lifetime ago.

20: For Whumper, is there any chance you’ll let Whumpee go? For Whumpee, have you ever thought about life after you’re free?

R: No. Sorry. Realistically, it doesn’t make sense to ‘let him go.’

W: I, uh, I used to think about it. I don't anymore… like he said.. realistically it doesn’t make any sense.

R: Mm. Good answer, Whumpee.

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

this interview uses the questions from Character Ask Game post by @inhurtandincomfort !! thanks homie!

((more Whump))

[s0uth3park]

Some of my random SP headcanons:

This is a long one.

Pt 2

Cartman just will never learn how to drive. Ever. He knows he has other people to ferry him around.

In a similar vein, when that time rolls around (teenhood), Kenny legally can’t drive but he can drive. He just doesn’t have a licence. This persists until much later in life when he can financially support himself.

Stan begged/bribed Cartman to not harass Red for being a daywalker to keep the peace in his and Wendy’s relationship.

Whenever Wendy and Cartman need to sit down to talk out some sort of dispute, they do it over a pack of Oreo’s. They call this Oreo Time.

Kenny and Cartman play GTA together a lot.

Heidi is part Jewish on her mother’s side.

Cartman’s natural eye colour is brown. He has blue eyes, now.

Cartman is short by the time he’s fully grown (probably because of his weight), and has naturally brown hair and blue eyes. Kenny is the opposite, with blond hair and blue eyes, and is naturally Cartman’s favourite.

Cartman’s coat is plain red flannel (it’s the closest thing to fuzzy felt we can get), Stan’s is canvas, Kyle’s is tarpoon cloth, and Kenny’s is synthetic material (it’s like that smooth thin material that makes a high pitched whirry noise when you scratch it?? Cannot find the specific name for the life of me).

Tweek and Butters are cousins. Either through both of their mothers or through Butters’ dad and Tweek’s mom. Let me know which one you prefer.

Craig and Cartman’s hats are from the same store / brand.

Cartman and Kyle wear opposite colours on opposite pieces of clothing (is this a headcanon or observation? Who knows, I just want to point it out). Kyle has a green hat, contrasting Cartman’s red coat. Cartman has a (primarily) blue hat, contrasting Kyle’s orange coat. Kyle’s original gold-yellow t-shirt also compliments Cartman’s blue t-shirt, and pairs with Cartman’s yellow puff, brim, and gloves.

Cartman sometimes hums the Dreidal song to himself. Rarely will he sing it.

Carol and Stuart put Kenny in a separate room to Kevin because they didn’t anticipate a third kid. When Karen came along, they didn’t bother to displace one of them, so just stuck her in with one of them (Kevin) at random.

Kenny carries the gene for red hair.

Either (or both) Laura and Thomas have brown eyes. This is why Craig has black hair. (Relying on a quick google search for this one).

If Stan looks a lot like Randy as he gets older, right down to the eyes, Shelley looks like Sharon, but with Randy’s eyes.

Stan sometimes feels like the outsider in the group because not only do the other three hold biological keepsakes of the others (Kenny’s eyes –> Cartman; Cartman’s kidney –> Kyle), Kyle and Kenny (K’s) both wear the same shade of orange, and all three are called by unvoiced guttural (“kuh”) vocatives. He’s just Stan. He and Kenny have the same last initial, though.

Out of all the moms, Mrs. Tweek has the biggest tits. I’m sorry I don’t make these rules.

She and Richard fuck like rabbits too I think

While there’s a massive gap between how Stan is viewed and how Cartman is viewed, but out of Stan’s Gang, Stan is held in the lowest esteem just after Cartman. Wendy and his looks boost his popularity a bit, but it’s still rather low.

Kenny is held in the highest esteem by the way, because people know he just joins the guys and doesn’t really instigate.

Craig has alexithymia.

Clyde picked up some mannerisms, like speaking with little affect, from Craig.

Clyde was a mommy’s boy, but Betsy was always rather eccentric and pedantic.

I’m not sold on this but I have thought about Betsy having PCOS.

Maybe I’m biased but I like to think that if Clyde outright said the words “I don’t like Janice and I don’t want her in this house” / “I’m not ready for a stepmom”, I think Roger would adhere. Probably just me being biased.

Sharon hates being filmed, and if she sees either a video or photo of her she will immediately pat her hair and say “oh look at my hair there” or touch her face and go “oh my, I look godawful in that”.

Cartman flexes his ability to eat bacon on Kyle a lot.

Craig has a fear of dressing Stripe up in costumes. Tweek has suggested it, but Craig shot it down immediately.

Wonder Tweek’s costume is from Craig’s closet, and the reason his is shit is because he was too busy helping Tweek’s with his because Tweek found organising his own costume too stressful.

Randy taught Kenny how to swim in Kyle’s backyard blow up paddling pool.

Cartman is a weak ass swimmer.

[cherrygirlfriend]

kook!reader and pope going apple-picking

warnings: fluffy! i've had this on my mind for a MONTH bc i got a bunch of free apples and baked like... four apple pies in the matter of two days. but i wanted to wait until it was all fall-y to post it. (also the among us shirt was inspired by an actual t-shirt i saw at the thrift store. i do have a short little bonus part coming for this soon!!

something unexpected that pope learned about you was that you loved fall. he would've always thought you'd prefer summer; your personality was basically that of the literal sun, but the moment there was a small breeze in the air and you spotted the first orange leaf on the ground, you'd picked it up and called him, telling him how you were going to put it in your scrapbook.

so, it really shouldn't have been a surprise to him that one morning, you'd show up to his room, basically trying to pull him up, and after he pulled you into bed and you two laid there together for an hour and the dog that was basically yours, but technically his, came to lick his face, he finally got up.

your boyfriend kept asking you where you were taking him as you drove, the little bichon sleeping snugly in his arms in the passenger seat of your car, but you wouldn't tell, simply humming along to the girly pop song playing in your stereo with a wide smile on your face.

"where are we, exactly?" pope asked when you two finally arrived to your destination, a small farm right between figure 8 and the cut.

"we're at mr. parker's farm, duh."

"don't duh me, i know that." he said with a small chuckle, bumping your shoulder lightly with his, "i mean, what are we doing here?"

"oh," you chuckled, taking something from the backseat, and when you held the thing up, he noticed it was two large wicker baskets, "well, mrs. parker is teaching me how to crochet, and i mentioned how i really want to pick some apples and bake apple pie, so she said that they had way too many apples growing and she said that if i wanted to, i could come pick some, as long as i bring them a few slices of apple pie to try."

"babe," he chuckled as you handed him the other basket, starting to lead him to where mrs. parker had shown you the apple trees were, blanche's leash on your other hand, the dog excitedly following, "i'm not sure which part i should address; the fact that you're friends with a 60-year-old, that she's teaching you how to crochet, or that she let you pick apples just for a few slices of apple pie."

"josephine is a very nice lady." you look at him pointedly, "and crocheting is relaxing. supposedly. for me it's still a bit confusing. but i wanna make blanche a sweater one day."

"you know, most dogs hate clothes."

"our dog wouldn't. i can see the way she looks at my dresses, and how she barks at your t-shirts like she wants to rip them apart."

"hey! what's wrong with my t-shirts?"

you look at him blankly, "my grandpa dresses better than you. you wore a shirt that had an among us character the color of the italian flag holding a plate of spaghetti with the text 'impasta' underneath it for our second date."

"that was jj's, my shirt got all muddy..." pope mumbled, scratching the back of his neck, but soon you two arrive in front of an apple orchard miles long, the boy's eyes widening. "yeah, that's... definitely a lot of apples."

you chuckled, taking his hand as you pulled him further into the orchard, the little dog following behind you, and before you knew it, you were stood on a wooden stepping ladder, reaching up for apples and throwing them into the second basket, the first one already full of both red and green apples.

"you know, you don't have to hold onto me, i'm a big girl, i won't fall." you chuckled, pope's hands holding onto your waist, "if you just picked some apples yourself, we'd be done a lot faster."

"i know you." and by the tone of his voice, you could tell he was looking at you pointedly even though he was behind you, "if i let go of you, you're gonna fall, and you'll probably get concussed."

"alright, i know that i can be a bit clumsy-"

"a bit? remember when you tripped on my charger last week? when it wasn't plugged into anything? or when your shirt got caught in the doorknob and you hit your head on it? or the time you broke your leg falling down three stairs because you were looking at pictures of your celebrity crush? or-"

"alright, alright, i'm clumsy!" you puffed, taking his hands off your waist. "you can stand there for safety, but no holding on. i gotta focus and your hands are really warm it disturbs me. besides, the broken leg was when i was fifteen. i never should've told you.

"she's in denial." he said to blanche, laying on a small blanket on the ground that you had brought with you for him, letting out a small yip, as if in agreement.

"hey! don't turn my baby against me."

"well, she's my baby too."

"well, if you're not careful about what you say, soon we'll have to co-parent." you huffed, continuing to pick apples, the boy simply laughing at your 'threat.'

he watched as you continued picking apples, humming along to the same song you were listening to in the car, a fond smile on his face, yet as you rose to your feet to pick the last apple, standing on the very edge of the stepping ladder, he noticed the wooden thing wobble, his eyes widening.

but as you got your feet stable, it was already too late, the stepping ladder already starting to fall to it's side, your eyes widening when you realized what was happening.

you closed your eyes tightly when you started falling, and as you felt your body fall against the hard ground, something was under your head, softening the blow.

hearing a soft groan next to you, you opened your eyes, finding pope laying on the ground next to you, his arm under your head. "your head weighs a lot."

"what are you doing?" you chuckled softly.

"well, i knew i wouldn't be able to catch you, and since the ladder isn't that tall so you'd mostly get away with bruises anyway, but you could still get a concussion or a head injury from that height, so i estimated where you'd fall and made sure my arm was under it."

"you know, you could've just said something cheesy, like 'because i wanted to protect your pretty head', you textbook."

"oh."

"you know you could've broken your arm or something."

"and you could've let me hold onto you."

you laughed softly, shaking your head before rolling onto him, pressing your lips on his, the boy's lips warm against yours, bringing your hand to his cheek.

when you pulled away from the kiss, he looked at you with a slightly dazed look on his face before he broke into a grin. "thanks for protecting my head."

"anytime."

[hellodaydream1111111111111111]

The Zoldyck family and mercy, keep in mind all of this is canon and is not a theory.

Kalluto Zoldyck, dear god he’s gonna have one hell of a villain arc. Like just going by personality he’s violent as hell not even because he’s an assassin he just enjoys killing and like ripping people to shreds with his nen.

Illumi has done far worse but he doesn’t objectively enjoy killing people, Kalluto on the other hand says and I quote “Nasty habit, I really need to stop toying with my prey.” After he shreds a Chimera ant and the frame shows the prey in question torn to shreds, for HxH it’s actually one of the more gory scenes and it’s courtesy of an 11 year old child. Now you may say that it’s just an ant however Kalluto says it’s a habit and recognizes that it’s bad but he can’t help himself. Illumi allows his targets one last wish and opts to kill them quickly with a needle to the head however Kalluto cuts all their limbs off before killing them and then continues cutting up the corpse. This is the nature of his nen paper storm where he blows confetti around with a fan, it gets stuck in his prey and then with a slash of his fan can cut through something as string as steel like butter. Combined with the fact Kalluto is still very childish (ya know cuz he’s a child) he doesn’t weigh the pros and cons of just murdering someone because he feels like it, he’ll just do it. He was more raised by his mother and we usually see them together so that begs the question what is or rather how gruesome Kikyo’s nen?

As we know Silva and Zeno only kill for money and they don’t take pleasure in it.

Kikyo shows no mercy, she is a violent person who has outbursts even towards her children.

Illumi follows his father though, he’s a little looser with it allowing himself to enjoy killing and fighting strong opponents.

Milluki doesn’t do assassinations anymore as he prefers not to leave the house but he has a short fuse and probably still enjoys metaphorically ripper someone to shreds.

Killua doesn’t take pleasure in killing people but if it’s to someone threatening to hurt him or his friends he doesn’t feel bad.

Alluka would feel bad about killing someone but she hasn’t because other than Nanika she’s a regular child.

Kalluto takes after his mother but seems to be more gruesome, he takes pleasure in harming other it’s an itch that he can’t help but scratch.

Now onto the theory part of this, it’s not really a theory more of an educated guess.

Once Silva learned of the way Kalluto kills he was appalled and Kikyo isn’t able to train him unsupervised anymore. Silva has asked Illumi to help fix this behavior because he sees it as unnecessary.

[makeitmingi]

Cause Baby You’re My Muse [Chapter 1]

Genre: Romance, Idol!AU, Music, Slight angst

Pairing: Mingi x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Producer!Reader, IdolLyricist!Mingi, IdolProducer!Hongjoong, Idol!Seonghwa, Idol!Yunho, Idol!Wooyoung, Idol!San, Idol!Yeosang, Idol!Jongho, cameo(s) by other celebrities

Summary: You always preferred producing underground, having an unknown face and governed by your own rules. But when you start freelancing for idol groups, you say goodbye to your lone wolf lifestyle as you learn to work with idol producers and lyricists.

Word count: 3.2K

Your phone vibrating against your desk was what caught your attention. Otherwise, with your headphones on, you wouldn’t have heard it. You reached over to turn it off, eyes widening when you saw the time.

“Shoot! I’m gonna be late!” You shot out of your chair and went to the bathroom. Honestly, you did not plan on pulling an all-nighter. But after you were finally able to get some beats to work, you wanted to ride that high and continue working. 

“What to wear? What to wear?” You knew you should have planned your outfit last night. In the end, you wore a hoodie, some wide jeans and a beanie, plain and simple.

“Ah... What do I need?” You stood in front of your desk, mind blanking out due to the unexpected rush to leave the house.

“Laptop, keyboard, iPad, headphones... Notebook, pen...” You swiped off whatever you could carry and dumped them into your duffel bag. There was no time to neatly arrange everything. 

“Which bus was it again?” Scratching your head, you tried to find the instructions on your phone. Thankfully, when you finally found out the route, the bus came rather quickly. You sat down and pulled a mask on.

‘Eden! Sorry, I might be a bit late. Got a little lost and was working all night... - Indigo’

‘No worries. We’ll be in studio 1. - Eden’

You sighed as you read the message. This was not the image you wanted to give on your first day at work. You wanted to maintain a professional image, not one that is tardy and not put together. 

KQ Entertainment

Looking up at the sign, you gulped and adjusted your mask before going in. The security guy at the counter looked at you. He raised an eyebrow, taking in your appearance. You wouldn’t blame him for being suspicious. You looked ordinary, not like someone who would work at an entertainment company. Slowly, you slid your pass over to him. 

“Go ahead.” He nodded to the lifts after approving of your comapny pass. Luckily you had all the access things you needed, collected the day you signed the contract two weeks ago. 

“Studio... 1!” You found the door you were looking for. Before entering, you took a deep breath, gulping as you raised a hand to knock. 

“Indigo?” 

“Eden. Hey.” You smiled behind your mask and wrapped your arms around him. Eden chuckled, reciprocating the hug and even lifting you up slightly. He pulled away and patted your head, leading you into the studio 

“Sorry, I’m late. I didn’t even know the sun had risen while I was working.” You rubbed the back of your neck. 

“Don’t worry about it. It happens to the best of us.” Eden laughed. 

As you stood there, Eden introduced you to the 6 others in the room, also known as members of ‘Edenary’. All producers of different calibre brought in by Eden himself. 

“Nice to meet you, you can call me Indigo.” You bowed and introduced yourself to them after they told you their names. Eden had briefed everyone prior, about your want for personal privacy. So you go by your producer name ‘Indigo’ and you wear a mask to hide the lower half of your face.

“We all know who you are. The famous ghost producer.” Maddox reaches out to shake your hand. 

“Yeah, honestly when Eden said he invited you to join us, we thought he was joking...” Jangmoon scoffed, making Eden roll his eyes. 

“Please, I still have a lot to learn. I look forward to working with all of you and learning new things to improve.” You shyly bowed to them. You’ve only ever exclusively worked underground.

“I heard you only recently started working with idols though. Are you leaving the underground scene?” Oliv asked.

“No, not leaving. I just wanted more exposure. My recent works with idols is all through a ghost network so no one really know me.” You explained. 

“But your name is famous, Indigo. We’re happy to have you onboard.” 

“Like I said, Indigo isn’t going to join Edenary. She is here as a freelancer, to add some new creativity and difference to our music sound. But we’re still a team that works and collaborates together, okay? I’ve already told Hongjoong to come later to meet her after his schedule.” Eden said.

“Yes, boss.” The 6 saluted jokingly and you followed suit with a small giggle. Eden scoffed, already used to the antics of the 6. You waved to them and bowed again as you followed Eden out of the big studio. 

“So studio 1 is where all the big recordings and main meetings happen. I’ll take you to your private studio.” He informed.

“Oh, right. Thank you.” You followed him down the hallway, past a lot of doors.

“So this is the producers’ floor. After you settle in, I’ll give you a tour of the rest of the building.” Eden smiled. 

“This is yours. It has the basic equipment from the brand you told me you use. I got what I could get within the budget. Feel free to add your own stuff to the set up and customise the studio to your liking.” He opened the door.

“Wow.” You were in awe. You were grateful there was some equipment so you wouldn’t have to ferry equipment back and forth.

“So the couch is a pullout like you’ve requested for. The other furniture like table, chairs, cabinets will be paid for by the company. Just put together a list and send it over to me.” 

“Thank you so much, Eden.” You bowed. 

“No need to keep thanking me. I think you have a lot of talent to offer, Indigo. One of the members of the idol group we mainly produce for, Ateez, will come introduce himself to you later. He is the leader or captain actually, name is Hongjoong. He works with us during production a lot so it’s good to meet him and get a feel for his style.” Eden said. 

“Captain?” You tilted your head in confusion. 

“It’s their concept. Pirate ship plus not wanting to follow other groups and have a leader. So they call him captain.” Eden explained with a laugh.

“Got it. Captain, not leader. I’ll be here until then.” You said. 

“If you need anything, I am in Studio 2. Oh and don’t forget to password lock your door.” He informed and left you to give you some time to settle down and set up. 

“Can’t believe I’m actually here.” You shook your head in disbelief. Never would you have expected yourself to be here, working with other people. 

Unzipping your duffel bag, you placed all the equipment you brought on the desk, in a set up that was similar to the one you had at home. It was how you worked the best and comfortably. 

“Monitors, here and here. Speakers will have to be pushed back.” You roughly sketched how you would want you full set up to look like.

“I’ll bring my equiliser... Sound mixer...” Also, you made a list on what extra equipment you would want to bring in. 

“Let’s see... What was I working on?” Putting your headphones on, you started working. Since it was getting a bit hard to breathe and you were alone, you pulled your mask down to your chin as you worked. 

Indigo, the alias name you had chosen for yourself from the time you started working. You worked with rappers and singers that mainly operated underground. Only recently you’ve been giving your works to idol groups but no one has actually met you before. You were known as the ‘ghost producer’.

But Eden reached out, giving you a shot at producing “above ground” for idol groups, where you can learn and earn a lot more. All while maintaining your privacy. So you accepted. 

*DING DONG*

“Huh? Coming!” You pulled your mask up and went to the door. Eden stood there with a very good looking male. 

Besides his handsome face, it was like looking in a mirror. He had blue hair, the colour matching your peekaboo dyed hair. He also had multiple piercings on his ears like yours.

“Indigo, this is Hongjoong. He is the captain of Ateez. Hongjoong, this is Indigo. Our new producer.” Eden introduced.

“Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Hongjoong. I am a big fan and look forward to working with you.” He seemed to hesitate reaching out to shake your hand so he opted to bow politely instead. 

“Hi, Hongjoong. Likewise. You can call me Indigo.” You held your hand out to him and he smiled before slipping his hand into yours to shake it.

“Please, come in. I only have a couch so I apologise.” You invited them in. 

“I need to go meet the big boss. Hongjoong, you stay and get to know our new producer, okay? Take care of her. Actually, you guys kind of look alike now that I look at it.” Eden noted. You scoffed playfully and rolled your eyes as Eden left. Hongjoong’s eyes widened as he cleared his throat. You still invited him in, closing the door behind him. 

“Your blue is like mine.” You said, lifting the upper layer of your hair up to reveal the bright blue underneath that matched Hongjoong. He nodded his head with a smile, fingers going to touch the ends of his blue hair. 

“So, Eden says you produce too?” You asked.

“Yes. I’m usually part of the producing team for my group but I still have much to learn.” He explained, taking a seat on the couch while you wheeled your chair over to sit. 

“Does your entire group produce? Sorry if I’m asking a lot. I just want to know what to expect.” You rubbed the back of your neck.

“No worries at all. Hmm, they don’t really produce. But they do partake in lyric writing. I’ll introduce you to them the next time we have group practice.” 

“Alright. And you can ask me questions too, by the way...” You chuckled.

“Do you always wear a mask?” He outrightly asked. You had expected it, a lot of people ask why you wear a mask and why you want to keep your identity a secret when you could gain fame. 

“Yes, it’s more a security thing. I appreciate the privacy, helps to separate my private and personal life. Maybe one day you’ll know what I look like.” You joked.

“Why did you want to work with Eden hyung or an entertainment company? The underground would be perfect for privacy.” 

“Exposure and experience. I’ve never really worked with a team, I’ve never worked outside of my underground studio. It’s usually me sending my works to others to use; whether it is lyrics or beats or melodies. And working with idols is different compared to the underground scene.” You explained.

“That makes sense. I noticed your name in the credits for a lot of recent songs. I would say expectations are also different. There is a lot more... creative freedom and liberty underground.” He stated.

“You’ve worked underground before?”

“A little... When I was still in school. It was how I met most of Edenary. But it was mainly to learn before I signed to KQ.” He said.

“That’s cool. It would be interesting to work with a team. I can’t be a lone wolf forever, right?” There was some bitterness to the part of your statement. Hongjoong nodded his head with a comforting smile. 

As you and Hongjoong talked, you surprisingly grew comfortable around him quickly, letting your guard down a little. He reminded you of a protective older brother, kind and patient.

“Well, I hope I am able to creatively add to the process, rather than burden the team.” You chuckled.

“Nonsense, I think you’re very talented.” He smiled kindly. 

“I’m looking forward to meet the other members of your team. So I can get to know all your individual styles, as well as the cohesive style of Ateez.” You smiled, wheeling yourself back to your desk to grab your phone.

“Am I not enough for you? That you need to meet my other members.” He feigned hurt, putting a hand over his heart. You shook your hands in quick denial to the point where you actually dropped your device. But Hongjoong was quick, bending down to pick it up for you. He brushed the screen to inspect it for any damage. 

“I was kidding.” He laughed as he held out the device.

“Thank you.” You received it with a small bow of your head. Hongjoong couldn’t help but reach out to pat your head, eyes full of adoration. Only when he realised what he was doing then he pulled away.

“I am so sorry. That was way out of line. I just... never had a sister before and... I don’t even know what I’m saying.” He stuttered.

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t have any brothers but it’s weird that I kind of feel like you are one.” You blushed. 

“It’s instinctive for me. Once you get to know my group, you will understand why I have to play to role of older brother, mother and father.” He joked.  

“Are they that chaotic?” 

“I always tell people that when you look at them as 5 year olds, you won’t feel so overwhelmed...” He rubbed the back of his neck, his ears turning slightly red at the tips. You laughed along with him. 

Speaking to Hongjoong was like speaking to a friend, not a celebrity. He was humble, down to earth and relaxed. There wasn’t a point where he made you feel awkward or uncomfortable. Even when talking about producing, he never showed off his knowledge or experience. 

“Once I get more equipment here, it’ll be an easier space for me to work in. But I ran a little later this morning when coming here so I grabbed what I could.” You told him.

“You work at night?” 

“I find it more productive to work at night. Lesser distractions and night is when underground performances usually happen.” You explained.

“What genre do you usually work on?” Hongjoong asked. You thought about it for a while before wheeling yourself over to your desk. You waved him over and he stood up, walking to stand beside you.

“This is what I was working on last night. The reason I was late.” You told him, playing the recording for him. 

“I’m trying different genres now, try to cater to the style of the artist I’m working with. So this is a softer R&B melody.” You explained to him, hiding your nerves.

“I like it. The flow is really nice.” Hongjoong bopped his head to the beat, fingers lightly drumming against the desk. You let out a mental sigh of relief, glad that he liked it considering he was one of the main people you would be working with from now on. But you kept all your emotions and reactions internal, maintaining a stoic face.

“Our style so far has been mainly EDM trap with dark hip hop... with dance-style anthemic songs from time to time. We try to dabble in multiple genres to show our range.” Hongjoong said.

“I’m looking forward to seeing that.” You nodded.

“Here, I’ll give you my number.” Hongjoong said. You handed him your phone and he typed your number, dropping himself a missed call to have your number.

“I have to go now but I’ll see you around.” He waved. You walked him to the door, waving to him as he left. 

You checked your phone and realised that you had been talking to Hongjoong for close to 4 hours. You went to use the washroom and when you came back, you saw a paper bag right at the doorstep.

‘Eden hyung said you hadn’t eaten since you were speaking with me. Make sure to eat. And welcome to KQ! - Captain Hongjoong’

Inside the bag, there was street food like tteokbokki, two kinds of kimbap and some fried snacks. You sent him a thank you text before breaking your chopsticks to begin eating. You ate at your desk since it was the only table you had at the moment. 

“Let’s see... Ateez music video.” You searched for something to watch while eating. You were probably the most unprepared newbie ever, not even doing research on the group that you’re going to work with. 

“Hyung, where are yo- OH MY GOSH!” You were startled by someone just opening the door, turning around in shock. Seeing someone there, you scrambled for your mask but it had dropped to the ground.

“Oh my! I’m so sorry! I didn’t know anyone was in here!” The male was flustered, bowing repeatedly.

“It’s fine. Please close the door.” You waved him off behind you. You heard the door close and you bent down to pick up your mask, putting it on. After that, you stood up and poked your head out to see if the guy was still there.

“Hello?” You called out but he must have ran off after the shock. 

“Everything alright, Indigo? I heard a shout.” Maddox also emerged from his studio, a concerned look on his face.

“Oh, yes. Sorry for disturbing. Someone just entered my studio, we scared each other and he must have ran off. I think he wasn’t expecting someone to be in the studio.” You smiled.

“Ah, we thought everyone already knew that you were going to be working in studio 8. Sorry about that.” He apologised. You shook your head.

“I guess this just means I should be introducing myself to everyone.” You giggled. He laughed and nodded his head. Since he made sure you were fine and safe, he went back to his studio. You did the same, making sure to lock the door now as you returned to your food. Now at least people would have to ring the doorbell before coming in. 

You huffed, chewing on the tip of your chopstick. Maybe it was one of Hongjoong’s group members, you didn’t really see his face clearly. You hoped that at the same time, he didn’t see your face. 

"Well, it can’t be helped.” You sighed and finished up your food, wanting to get back to work right away. 

As you continued to work on the same melody, you couldn’t help but hear Hongjoong’s fingers drumming against your desk. 

“Maybe...” You opened up the composition page and tested out adding a light drum to the background, similar to the rhythm that Hongjoong had when he tapped on your table. 

“No, this wasn’t it. What was it?” You clicked your tongue in annoyance, trying different variations of it. After some experimentation, you played it back. 

“Finally!” You threw your head back with a big, victorious smile. It sounded like a nice remix version. Maybe this was a sign that things were going to work out well for you here. 

~

Series Masterlist

[glacierclear]

Can I... can I ask for some househusband Leon hcs?

alright. okay. we're gonna work with a few assumptions for these headcanons.

this all comes from the hypothetical of leon being fully retired from his line of work. he still has the same backstory, skillset, traumas, everything, it's just...now he's your loyal house husband!

cooking? this all depends on where he's at in life. mid-30s and onward? he's a chef. i don't believe he'd be terribly gourmet about it. you aren't coming home to a roasted duck served with a reduced wine glaze and a perfectly made risotto...but god. he can make some damn fine spaghetti. he'd likely shoot for simple dishes, with perhaps an added flair or two. homemade burgers. lots of steak dinners. he'd prefer anything that can be prepared with minimal mess. recipes that are made with one pot or one pan...a big hit for him. he is not a pretentious eater, and that would reflect in his cooking.

now, if we're talking early to late-20s leon? erm. well. let's just say he's learning. his transition from zombie apocalypse policeman to military meat shield didn't do much for his cooking skills. and a diet of MREs and scrounged up viper parts did even less. if post-re4 leon is your house husband you're gonna be eating a lot of questionable meals. he's not completely oblivious. he won't try and feed you absolute slop, but his abilities don't much exceed kraft mac and scrambled eggs. still! he's a domestic man now. plenty of free time to try out all sorts of new things in the kitchen! be on standby with a fire extinguisher when he decides 3am is a great time to make fried chicken from scratch!

leon's independent food preferences likely revolve around utility. protein. nutrition. careful rations. compact energy a growing boy needs to kill bioweapons. he doesn't strike me as having a particularly strong sweet tooth, but he also won't say no to a bit of dessert! but he's adaptable, of course. one must be in his line of work. your tastes and favored dishes will influence his palate a lot. he'll naturally associate flavors with you and will, over time, come to adopt a lot of your dietary choices.

cleaning? leon will do his best. you can count on him to not accidentally mix mustard gas in your bathroom, but his knack for cleanliness would be...odd. i choose to believe leon has a strict standard for bodily hygiene. his extended exposure to all manner of glop and viscera means he strives to smell nice and stay on top of dirt the best he can when he is able to...on his body. a house is different. he's never had to see it as a home, merely an empty room where he sleeps and eats. so maintaining it as a tidy space might not come naturally, and it's not as if he had a proper upbringing to teach him proper housekeeping techniques (cough, cough, he's an orphan).

man's a fast learner though. expect a lot of trial and error. him accidentally using glass cleaner on the stove. or not understanding the exact purpose of fabric softener. why do we need make our bed if we're just gonna sleep in it and mess it up again? he likely has a lot of bad habits from living on his own, but gentle guidance and persistent advice will go a long way.

of course, leon needs his private time. space for him to isolate and be alone...but, you're at work all day. the loneliness is easily accessible, and now that he has all the time and freedom to be with you...it's grating. his favorite sound is the noise your key makes when it unlocks the front door. he's careful, not incredibly overbearing, but you don't make it more than a few steps into your home before his head is poking around the corner. "how was your day? you look tired. here, let me take your coat off-" leon is a listener. he doesn't talk about himself much, if at all, so he'd prefer to just hear you ramble on about whatever you need to or want to. neck rubs. gentle squeezes on your arm. light kisses on your brow. he doesn't smother. he doesn't drown you in the touch he's so starved of. but you can tell, he misses you a lot.

the real issues will probably stem from the quiet. the absolute lack of danger. take a person out of their traumatic environment and things start crumbling real fast before they can start to heal. he's hyper-aware. paranoid. has all this pent up energy and an instinct to fight. and he has to redirect it all somewhere, right? it'd come out in bizarre ways. diy projects. you come home from work and he built you a fucking chair. you don't even need a chair, but now you have one. lots of yard work. he renovated your patio and set up a birdhouse (also handmade). you didn't really want him to rearrange your living room but he did it anyways.

and it's hard for him to relax. for him to feel truly safe. he'd insist on installing locks on all the doors. bulletproof windows. guns hidden and stashed in corners of the house, just in case. any tech that could impede on his privacy (ie, amazon echos, doorbell cameras, etc) are out of the question. he'd run you through drills and hypothetical scenarios. make sure you know what to do in any situation. he's vigilant, and honestly, you've never felt safer, but it wears him down and you aren't sure if it's truly good for him.

[flyingwargle]

“coach! i brought keiji with me!”

akaashi steps out from behind bokuto, a familiar sight to the black jackals. they gather around him with greetings and waves, and he replies with his usual formality. foster joins the huddle and gives him a warm smile. “welcome back, keiji. it’s always a pleasure to see you.”

“thank you for letting me stay.” he bows.

“we welcome family, friends, and significant others. isn’t that right, boys?” foster shoots a look at his players. meian and barnes whistle innocently, and hinata scratches the back of his head. “i always appreciate your observations.” he turns his heel. “koutarou, can i have a word with you? shugo, get started on warm-ups, please.”

“sure, coach.” meian gestures for his teammates to head to the court while bokuto walks with his coach to the side. akaashi is about to take his spot on the bench when an arm slings around his shoulder.

“hey, ‘kaashi, i gotta ask for yer advice,” miya says. “ya got a minute?”

“i’ll do my best to help. what is it?”

 “i need ta see ya set. bokkun keeps sayin’ my tosses are second-best an’ i ain’t settlin’ for that.”

akaashi glances over his shoulder. “i’m afraid you’re out of luck. i haven’t set a ball since high school.”

“bokkun tells me ya still play,” miya points out, raising an eyebrow. “casually.”

“yes, as a form of exercise. i’m sure he only says you’re second-best because of our relationship.”

“that man needs ta keep romance off the court,” miya grumbles. “yer here anyway, might as well play fer a bit. i know ya got a pair of court shoes in his apartment.”

“i’m not dressed for volleyball, if you haven’t noticed.”

“miya!” meian calls out. “get over here!”

“just think of how happy bokkun would be if he could hit yer tosses,” miya says, sliding toward his teammates. “ain’t nothin’ better than seein’ yer partner shine their brightest, y’know?” he jogs away, leaving akaashi to stare after him, stupefied.

if he thinks about it, there isn't anything special about his tosses. each spiker has their own preferences, from the ball’s height, distance from the net or antenna, and speed. bokuto never had any specifications; right from the start, he simply told akaashi, “just give me a toss! any toss!” later, he learned that the third-year setter didn’t toss to bokuto often because of how streaky his performance was, and it wasn’t until after he retired that bokuto’s full potential was realized.

no, that isn’t accurate. akaashi was never able to draw out his full strength, but with someone as talented as miya, he could definitely raise bokuto to greater heights. if bokuto had gone to a different school, had someone better as his setter, would he have taken victory home? but that implies a future where they’d never meet, one that akaashi doesn’t want to think about.

“keiji?”

akaashi startles. bokuto is in front of him, hands in his, concern in his eyes. “you’re overthinking again. is something on your mind?”

noise filters in and blocks out the rest of his thoughts. akaashi shakes himself, looks up at him. “no, everything is fine. if you don’t mind, i need to head back to the apartment for something. i’ll be right back.” he kisses his check in farewell and hurries off. he should have a spare t-shirt and shorts somewhere.

when he returns, practice is underway. he sits on a bench, chats with the assistant managers, who relay any observations he makes. afterwards, foster thanks him for his advice before heading out, and bokuto approaches. akaashi stands. “why don’t we play for a bit?”

“you want to play volleyball?” bokuto gasps. “but–“

“miya told me that you said his tosses are second-best, and he wants to know why. it appears he won’t take anything short of a live demonstration.” akaashi takes his jacket off, reveals the faded fukurodani gym strip that he once wore daily. “so why don’t we show him?”

“nice ta have ya join us, ‘kaashi,” miya says, standing between hinata and sakusa. “i’m ready ta see what yer tosses are like.”

“akaashi-san’s tosses are great!” hinata chirps. “they’re super easy to hit!”

“that was before. as for now…” akaashi stands at the net where the setter is positioned. “it…has been quite a while since i last did this.” he can’t even remember the last casual game he played, anywhere from last month to last year. the days tend to blur together, lost in the monotony of adulthood.

after he warms up and declares himself ready, bokuto marches forward to go first, but miya holds him off. “gotta save the best fer last, y’know?”

“i’ll go, then!” hinata stands at the end line, ball in hand. “any toss you’re comfortable with is fine, akaashi-san!” he throws his ball and makes his approach.

hinata’s contact point is much higher than before. he’s in the air longer, similar to hoshiumi-san. so the toss should be… akaashi jumps, sets the ball. hinata spikes it effortlessly, cheering as he lands. “nice toss!”

“nice kill!” bokuto cheers.

sakusa is next. “i prefer if it’s close to the net.” akaashi nods, watching the ball as it arches through the air. sakusa’s jumps aren’t as powerful, his main strength being the snap of his wrist. he sets it slightly lower, close to the net. his spike is parallel to the sideline.

“sharp!” hinata comments.

“not bad,” miya remarks.

bokuto is last. their eyes meet, his golden eyes radiating with nothing but love. akaashi smiles, simply raises his hands as the ball arches toward him. he sets it, and bokuto meets it in midair, arm pulled back, slamming the ball down with enough force that it bounces off the wall. when he lands, he pivots and picks akaashi up in his arms. “yup, your tosses are still the best!”

“bokkun,” miya whines, “ya gotta explain why! what makes my tosses second-best?”

“it’s because his tosses remind me of the best time in my life.” bokuto’s grin is wide, eyes on his boyfriend, a spark in its depths. “i have fun playing volleyball every day with you guys, but nothing beats playing with keiji. i’d never want to trade it for anything.”

akaashi feels his chest throb with adoration. all his overthinking was for nothing. “thank you, kou. i feel the same way.” his cheeks warm as bokuto leans forward to kiss him, his teammates making comments in mock disgust. he laughs, happy to be in his arms, watching him shine the brightest he has ever been.

[carmillascrusade]

Bleeding Hearts| Vanessa (SB) x F!Reader

I do not own any of these photos and all rights go to the owners. If you know the artist of the middle photo, please let me know!

Summary: Vanessa comes home after one of her shifts with a young boy in tow.

Word count: 1419

A/N: this is my first fanfic that I have written so please be kind! Also I’m not sure if this counts as angst or not? So I’ll just say hurt/comfort lmao. Also, this is based on security breach Vanessa instead of film Vanessa.

The sun rose in the east. Red and orange flames flickering whimsically in the depths of the horizon, but melancholic despite the beauty of their hue. The hand holding the lamp continues to rise, lifting the ball of fire further into the still morning sky. An arc of luminance bestows itself upon the horizon; mirrored in the crystal waters of the rainwater puddles scattered in your front garden, devoid of all colour but that of the rising sun.

Vanessa stumbled through the front door, a sunken look marred her features; casting a gloomy shadow over her hollowed face, once radiant with joy. Behind her trailed a small boy, scratches and bruises littering his face with an array of discolouration. His eyes fell to you and he grabbed hold of Vanessa’s hand, shielding himself behind her body from your peering eyes.

“Vanessa?” You reached out cautiously, afraid that moving too fast or speaking too loudly would spook her. “What happened? Are you alright?”

Vanessa threw herself upon you, latching on to you as a frightened babe would their mother. You stroked your hands through the hair that had escaped her once pristine ponytail, now tattered with flyaways and grime.

She stayed in your grasp for what felt like aeons, sobbing incoherently in the crook of your shoulder. The small boy still stood behind her, eyes stripped of any emotions besides fear. Who was the boy and what had happened to him?

“Vanessa, my love.” You murmured into her ear, causing her eyes to snap up towards you. “Who’s your little friend?” You asked, gesturing briefly towards the boy.

“Oh.” She sighed shakily. “He has nowhere else to go. Please can he stay here with us? Just until we find somewhere more suitable.” She pleaded voice tinged with something akin to regret.

You glanced between the two of them as you let go of Vanessa and gingerly approached the boy. Crouching down to his eye level you asked him his name and if her would like to check out the spare room with you.

Gregory, as you just learned, anxiously followed you to the spare room, glancing back at Vanessa from time to time. You showed him the bed and the en-suite and apologised for the lack of pyjamas you had for him.

Shouting Vanessa in, you asked them if they were hungry to which they shook their head stating that they were both just tired. Nodding, you tucked Gregory in wishing him a good night and brought Vanessa to your shared bedroom. She trailed behind you sluggishly, resting the majority of her weight on your back and you navigated throughout the house.

“Would you like a bath, Nessa? Or would you prefer to go straight to bed?” You asked, already beginning to undress her from her security clothing. A muttered bed was all you got in return as she moved pliantly with your soft gestures. You hummed quietly as you sat her on the bed, moving towards the dresser to grab her a pair of pyjamas.

Once finished changing her and wiping some of the dirt from her face with a wet wipe, you climbed into bed next to her; pressing a kiss to her forehead before turning out the bedside lamp.

You were woken by the soft creak of the bedroom door, a slither of light briefly casting a warm glow in the dark confines of your bedroom. A small figure wearily stepped into the room, blocking the light partially to cast an ominous shadow over your bed.

“Gregory?” You called out groggily. “Are you okay?”

Gregory walked further into your room and shut the door, you could barely make out his hand wringing together due to the newfound darkness. Vanessa’s soft snores filled the room as Gregory approached you, shyly asking if he could sleep in your bed as he had a nightmare.

Your eyes softened as you looked upon the frail boy, shaking with nerves and the lingering adrenaline from his nightmare. Tapping the bed, you gestured for Gregory to get in between you and Vanessa. He excitedly jumped up and settled in, muttering a quiet ‘haven’t slept in a real bed for so long’.

Your heart broke at the thought of this sweet boy lacking a proper bed and the conditions he must have been subject to before Vanessa brought him home. Watching the two of them slumber peacefully before you closed your eyes, you decided that you’d speak to Vanessa in the morning about adopting Gregory.

Vanessa was awoken by a small hand gently slapping her on the face. She scrunched her nose in confusion. Why had your hands shrunk all of a sudden?

Blinking the sleep from her eyes, she was greeted by the sight of Gregory curled up into your side; one of his hands flung over Vanessa’s face while the other Liddell gripped your T-shirt. Your head rested atop his, one hand flung over him and resting on Vanessa’s hip as you smiled in your sleep.

Vanessa grinned softly at this, her previous worries of you not liking Gregory flying out of the window. Perhaps you would consider taking him in? After all, he had saved her and she found it only fair to do the same.

She pressed a soft kiss to your lips, careful not to rouse you from your sleep, as she got out of bed. Trudging to the kitchen to make breakfast for the three of you, she pulled out her phone and quit her security guard job immediately. All that job has ever brought was pain and it was about time she quit.

Soft footsteps could be heard down the hallway as Vanessa was scouting her phone for new jobs. You wrapped your hands around her neck, pressing up against her back as you lazily rested your head on her shoulder. Peeking at her phone screen, you kissed her cheek before speaking.

“Looking for a new job?” You questioned, although it was more of a statement.

“Hmmm, I think it’s about time I get another job. Don’t you agree?” She turned to face you, eyes flickering to your lips and back up to your eyes again.

Kissing her delicately on the lips, you started to run your fingers through her hair. “You know I’ll support you in whatever you choose to do, sweetheart.”

You looked over to the eggs that were about to burn due to Vanessa getting distracted and chuckled slightly as you went over the save them. A burst of courage came over you as your back was turned, Vanessa unable to see your face and you hers.

“So…” you started. “About Gregory,”

“What about him?”

“What do you plan on doing with him?”

Vanessa went silent. The only noise coming from you plating three sets of breakfast up. You turned towards her and handed her her plate, putting Gregory’s in the oven for later.

“Like I said before, Nessy, I will always support you in what you choose to do. And if you want to adopt Gregory then I will back you in that. If you don’t, that’s okay too.” You whispered into her ear, hugging her with your free arm.

She looked up at you with tear-filled eyes, the crystal clear substance just on the brink of falling over the but never reaching the turning point. A soft smile graced your features as you brushed away the beginning of tears with the pads of your thumbs.

“Oh, Vanessa.” You coed.

“I- I want to keep him, baby.” She stuttered, averting her gaze from your prying eyes. Why would you think of her now? The two of you have never spoken about children before. Would you leave her?

You were overjoyed at the prospect of adopting Gregory. Tears threatened to overcome your own eyes and you brought Vanessa into a tight hug. You didn’t want this moment to end.

“I’m so glad you said that! I wanted to keep him too. I’ve always wanted a family with you, ness. Although untraditional, I’m glad we have this opportunity to do so.”

Vanessa was awestruck at your willingness to accept, not only her, but Gregory into your life. You were her light in the darkness. Her lifeline. You shone brighter than the sun to Vanessa and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I love you.” She whispered over and over again like prayer. For she would worship you for the rest of your lives; just as you will her.

A/N II: thank you for taking the time to read this and I hope you enjoyed?

[blood-grove]

The Hunt

previous hunt <- part 2 -> (hunting)

x tws; violence , blood , injuries , gore , slight suggestiveness , sickness. <- more will be added possible depending on the part.

x pairings; soap x male!reader (😲)

x characters; soap , ghost , price , gaz + (others will maybe be added? idk ive never written a whole lot of characters cuz i get confused in my own head)

Soap ran his hands through your hair gently scratching your scalp as you purred lowly.

"God ah loue hearing ye purr git a real overgrown moggie as mah boyfriend dinnae ah?" Soap mumbled as he moved his hands to your face tilting your head up enough to look up at him from his lap.

"Such a nice view mm?" Soap grinned as he gently reached hand down brushing over the slight stubble around your chin and cheeks you preferred a clean shave and had quickly learned how to do it yourself.

Especially after all the cuts Johnny gave you trying to do one side of your face.

"Mm.." You hummed as you shifted in the water a near by lake you both have found yourselves at to clean up clothes set aside Soap always carried another pair for the both of you.

Your medallion hung heavy on your chest when clothed you always hid it so you didn't feel like it getting stolen and shifting into a giant dragon while out shopping would be ideal for you and Soap's little business venture.

"How much do we have now..?" You mumbled as you focused on washing instead of Soap's touch.

"Mm..We lost a guid bit we hud tae rush tae th' lea back then..we got 300 silver from you..We'll have to eat today so that'll be around 40 ish- We have about uhh mm.." Soap went quiet in thought as you huffed silently washing some more mud off yourself.

Money.

It had been a problem for you both you could never kept it.

You both had gotten greedy one village ago too many dragon attacks the dragon causing no damage and not even stealing livestock.

They figured you out.

You panicked.

And all remains is a burnt ashy waste.

You tried to repress the memory they were going to hang Soap what else were you supposed to do? You can't take on a whole town, You didn't have Soap's wit and agility especially not back when your human form was still so fresh.

For being such a strong creature you felt helpless in that moment, Soap still wore some scars from it all.

You shook your head as Soap's concerned look brought you back to the present.

"You okay love?"

"..Mm..Yeah.." You nodded as you gently nuzzled him slightly before going to get and dry off with the cloth you both brought.

"...Alright..I think we've got around 1,200"

"..Still not enough.."

"Yeah.."

For the rest of the evening you both ate and soon found an inn to stay in, You both planned to leave before dawn you didn't feel like getting up so early, especially with the cool chill of the twilight air.

You weren't cold-blooded per se but heat has always been a luxury to bask in getting in enough rays just to wake you up enough has always been a pleasure.

But being a literal fire-breathing creature meant your core ran warm perfect for Soap to cling onto too And an excuse to bury his face in your chest.

You didn't mind of course you always woke up to him running his fingers through your hair or sometimes he'd be sketching while one hand rested somewhere on you.

You feel you hit the jackpot with him he's always been physically affectionate yet he never overstepped a line you both hadn't crossed yet.

It was way past dawn when you both woke up again.

You were the clingy one this morning as you tried to keep Soap in place despite his groggy voice mumbling that you both had to get up.

You refused.

He stared at you as you admitting childishly locked your body around his limbs looking up at him.

"Oh noo whitevur shall ah dae a dragon haes me trapped in tis sleepy embrace..maybe a few kisses wull convince it tae let this poor warrior go?." Soap grinned as he looked at you cupping your face as he freed his arms.

"Possibly..I don't know the dragon has a very high kiss toll..I might have ta' turn you into a pile of ash if you don't abide by it.." You teased as he gently pecked your forehead.

"Ohh I'm sooo scared" He chuckled as he finally leaned down and embraced you into a kiss which you quickly melted into letting the rest of his body free as his hands slid down to your hips gently squeezing them as he deepened the kiss.

Soap chummed as he pulled away placing a quick on your forehead before he slipped away.

You both finally got dressed properly as you both packed up and got ready to leave.

Today is another day and another village was ripe for the pickings.

In your head it sounded sort of like thievery.

Maybe you both were scam artist thieves and not relieving people of there excess wealth.

Maybe you were both bad people scamming and scaring the richer folk.

Nah.

It took a week or so to reach the next town and you were both back to your routine.

Soap headed to the nearby guild or tavern if there wasnt a guild, He had a knack for charming the drunk passerby with his exaggerating his dragon slaying tales.

You just hoped he wouldn't get too drunk on the first day here.

You on the other hand were scouting out the town maybe getting a few treats for you and Soap.

You were so preoccupied in your thoughts and potential sweets you would buy you bumped into what could only be mistaken as a brick wall sending stumbling back.

"Ah fuck- What the-"

"Sorry."

You flinched at the voice as you looked up meeting not a magic talking wall which you would have preferred but a man tall and draped in dark clothes and a hooded cloak a skull mask fitted on his face and cloth covering the rest of it.

You got up quickly as he picked up your satchel and book holding them back to you as you stood there for a moment before finally composed yourself.

"Ah um- No its alright I wasnt paying attention."

He just hummed which you couldnt decivier if its good or bad.

"Wheres the guild house here?"

"Uh um I think back near the far markets and again I'm so-"

He just left following your honestly vague directions.

"Oh.. uh okay."

Weirdo.

a/n; sorry if it isnt that good just got back from vacation

[thenightfolknetwork]

Ok so, I'm not...supposed to exist?

I am—er, well, was an imaginary friend. My "brother" was a lonely little boy who was quite neglected looking back, and he wanted someone to spend his time with, a "sister".

So he dreamed, and I came to be. Now, even as a child he wasn't the most imaginative sort, preferring to imagine things he could see and wonder about what was rather than make something new completely from scratch. So, in his mind, his sister looked just like him, just with longer hair. I think that's one of the reasons i'm...like this.

Most children describe their imaginary friends as fantastical, with great glittering wings or neon spots and the like. Most children stop talking or believing in their imaginary friends around a certain age. Most children cannot see someone else's friend. No one, outside of the child, can see an imaginary friend.

Until now? I think? These are all observations I've made.

I remember only existing when my brother was around. We would play and "go on adventures" and just have fun. When it was dinner time, I would sit beside him and eat... but couldn't eat. I would say things to make him laugh, but no one else would acknowledge I was there. I didn't think much of it at the time since..well, I couldn't think. I wasn't real.

As he grew, he must have imagined me growing as well. As he learned, I did, too, and must have adjusted accordingly. Unlike his peers, he was convinced that I was a person and was angry when people told him otherwise.

We got older and he got more insistent when suddenly, people started to play along. Pretending to see me and talk to me when it was clear that they couldn't. I think this was when I started to...feel things? Think?

We fought, my brother and I. He was graduating secondary and heading to Uni. I asked him why he still imagined me when it was clear he didn't need me anymore. He said he did need me. I didn't believe him, we argued, and he left.

I was still there.

Before, time almost seemed to...skip? Think cutscenes from those video games everyone seems to like playing. The day ends, I blink and it's morning, no sleep needed. Brother was distracted? Time skips until he addressed me again.

I've never not been without him before. I panicked. I collapsed against the wall and I felt it. The cool wall, the tears streaming down my face, my brother's hug when he came to apologize. I don't know how to handle it.

When we sat down for dinner, his mum and dad addressed me and asked if I was alright, as if they had always known I existed. They could see me and my distress. I tried to explain, but everyone looked at me confused. They told me that of course i existed, I always did.

But I know the truth. There are no pictures of me in this house. There are no school records of me or medical ones. I have no bedroom or clothes of my own. I did not exist.

I don't know exactly when I became "real" but I am now. I just...I don't know what to do? I wasn't real and now I am and everyone calls me crazy for thinking otherwise. How does one exist? My brother is leaving for Uni soon and everyone expects the same of me, as if I've been accepted into one. I haven't, I've checked.

Why do I exist? Why does no one acknowledge that I never did?

Please.

I'm scared.

I'm so glad you've written in, reader. Quite apart from the existential questions your situation raises, there is also rather a lot of paperwork involved.

It is possible to live in the UK without being part of the civil bureaucratic system – indeed, there are certain isolated genuses whose right to do so has been fiercely protected over the generations. But it's a tremendously difficult way to live if you have any intention of engaging with the economic, education or healthcare systems.

The Bunbury Institute of Manifested Personages should be your first port of call to tackle the logistical and legal difficulties presented by your case. They'll be able to get you sorted with all the documentation you need to prove your existence, including a Certificate of Corporeal Incarnation, which will stand in where others might use their birth certificate.

Once you legally exist, you'll be able to open a bank account, apply for a passport, and essentially make whatever choices you want to make about how to spend the rest of your existence. Which brings me to the real heart of your letter – the emotional impact of your change in circumstance.

Sudden onset incarnation is a profoundly disruptive experience no matter how, when or to whom it occurs. Even if your family were able to understand the situation and support you through it, it would still be an extremely difficult situation to navigate. As it is, the nature of your previous existence and the way your incarnation has taken effect means they're just not able to.

You ask why nobody acknowledges your previous non-existence. Generally speaking, most people find it extremely difficult to the point of near impossibility to really understand divergent realities. It's not that your family are trying to undermine you – they are literally, psychologically and biologically, incapable of understanding how you have come to be.

I strongly recommend you find someone to talk to about this issue as soon as you can. Without your legal paperwork in place, it will be difficult to access mental health support either privately or through the NHS. However, the Bunbury Institute and other such charitable organisations may be able to put you in touch with support groups for others like yourself.

What's important is that you know, you're not alone in this. Whatever your family may believe, your experiences are real and valid. And, now, so are you. It's going to be a big adjustment, figuring out how you want to live in the world now you're here. Try not to get too overwhelmed. Take things one day at a time, try to keep an eye on the positives, and give yourself the grace and time you need to process the negatives. In time, I feel sure you'll be able to build a life that feels right for you.

[For more creaturely advice, check out Monstrous Agonies on your podcast platform of choice, or visit monstrousproductions.org for more info]