#she gives me SO many brainworms.

[kerryweaverlesbian]

"Hell is Hell for demons too Dean. A prison of flesh and blood and bone. And you sent me back there."

Literally Meg is SO compelling to me. The concept of demons in this show is soooo so miserably sad.

Someone makes a little deal in a moment of weakness and they have one hundred thousand million years of torment for it. They're twisted around by pain. And they will never get untwisted. It's live with the guilt of all they've been made to do or die. And die and die and die.

Meg has ONE guy trust her while he's unwell and she's making moves to try and get out of the game. Crowley has ONE summer of love and he's desperate to regrow a soul. They have no friends. They have no chances. It's Hell for them too.

[ribbitsplayts]

AND they were gonna watch great mouse detective :((( both of them were robbed :((( alt colors under the cut

when i tell u this telescope was hell on earth to draw???????

[finaldawn]

god midna is ... so fucking sad throughout the entire 2nd half of twilight princess.

like, yes, it is a good thing that the harsh and cruel exterior she put up falls away, and that she realizes the situation link is in and starts treating him with more patience and sympathy ... but you can also tell the weight of her guilt is crushing her. her anger, her sadness, her lament— it is all so palpable in the way it takes any sense of humor or levity she had before and completely destroys it ( i truly think the only time we really see it again in game before the very end is when she jokes that she put shad off ). where before she would sometimes have a snarky comment, all of her prompted dialogue in the 2nd half is used just to guide or reassure link, and her post - boss and cutscene lines are all her expressing remorse for the state of the world, and hinting to link that the mirror of twilight needs to be destroyed ( and that she herself is going to ).

like !! it's just miserable !! she really spends that whole time feeling fucking awful about zelda's sacrifice, the hardships link has to go through, the subjugation of her people and her abandonment of them, all while knowing in the back of her mind that she's going to destroy the mirror once this is all done and never see the light world or the people in it ever again ! even when she wins she loses !

[ellecdc]

I will bite (lol mating bite)

Remus with a best friend!reader who thinks her feelings for him are unrequited

his alpha presentation clicks in when she first presents as an omega - he immediately realizes they’re mates and is delighted, she doesn’t know he likes her and is freaking out that he’s going to feel trapped

🫣.......... okay twist my arm why don't you ;) jk - this theme/trope has been a bit of a brainworm/hyperfixation for me for a few weeks so thank you for indulging me, and sorry to my readers who this might not be their taste! but I definitely had fun with it so you may have to brace yourselves for more of it from me lol

Remus Lupin x best friend!reader who presents as an omega [3.5k words]

p1 // p2

CW: fem!reader, a/b/o dynamics and omegaverse, very soft a/b/o descriptions, SFW [nothing explicit or sexual in this fic], first a/b/o fic I've written so I'm truly just dipping my toes in lol, feelings of unrequited love [but its actually requited]

Loving Remus came as naturally as breathing to you; every inhale was the sweet smell of chocolate, warm sweaters, and worn books, and every exhale was a quiet whisper of “I love you” that you prayed to every deity he couldn’t hear.

Loving Remus was natural, but it was also harrowing; no one chooses to experience unrequited love, it’s simply one of those things that happens upon you. 

But no matter how painful the fact that your feelings weren’t reciprocated was, the wholehearted comfort that being around Remus brought you was almost worth the heartache. 

There was something in your soul that relaxed the second Remus was near; your entire being unclenched, knowing you were somehow safer, somehow more sound now that he was here.

And you hoped that, if nothing else, you provided the same for him. 

The two of you had been friends for years; becoming fast friends in first year over your shared love of muggle literature and the fact that the two of you were a touch more shy than your respective peers. 

The friendship never dimmed over time - if anything, it only became stronger with every passing year. No matter how mischievous his new friends were or how much trouble he got into with them around, no matter how many school yard crushes left either of you melancholy, no matter how many failed papers or late night study sessions that turned into heated spats because the two of you were far too overtired to handle anything maturely, and no matter how the moons came and went that effectively waxed and waned the Remus you knew in much the same way, the friendship had weathered it all.

It was one of your greatest possessions - this friendship you shared with Remus - and one of your proudest accomplishments.

And you weren’t going to let a silly crush (or, in your case, your gut-wrenching and undying devotion) ruin it. 

Which is how you found yourself walking up the steps to James and Lily’s flat for your surprise party, preparing yourself to be surprised because Sirius insisted they throw you one but Remus knew you hated surprises and had warned you about it prior to your arrival. 

You were admittedly not feeling up to a party - the telltale tickle in your throat warning you of an impending cold - though you were sure you wouldn’t have felt quite up to a party whether you were poorly or not. Parties were never quite your thing; you loved your friends, and you loved spending time with them, but that many of them in one place at one time and all for you felt a little bit like torture. 

But you knocked on the door which was flung open before your hand even made its second knock and there was a sea of people cheering “happy birthday!” but your eyes - of course - found Remus first, and suddenly, you didn’t think this was torture. Suddenly this was heaven. 

“Wha- you guys!” You started, smiling as James gave you a bone crushing hug, eyes never leaving Remus’. 

“Surprise!” Lily giggled as she elbowed James out of the way to give you her own hug. “Were you surprised?”

“What do you mean ‘were you surprised’? I still am!” You agreed quickly, embracing Sirius who was next in line.

“Moony told you, didn’t he?” He murmured quietly into your hair, causing you to snort. 

“Am I that bad an actor?” You asked him quietly, causing him to chuckle as he rubbed his hand up and down your back. 

“No,” He answered quickly, “but he is just that soft on you.” 

You hardly had a moment to consider what Sirius had said when Marlene was yanking you from his grasp to pepper your face in kisses as he shook his head over at his friend and started giving him shit for ruining the surprise. 

After greeting every guest in attendance, you finally made it to Remus who wasted no time in pulling you into his chest.

“Happy birthday, dove.” He murmured into your hair; and you had sort of wished that the only plan you had for the rest of the night was to stay within his warm embrace. 

“Sorry for getting you into trouble with Sirius.” You murmured back into his chest, delighting in the rumble of his laugh you elicited.

“Worth it; couldn’t handle you being miffed with me all night for not warning you.”

You - regretfully - pulled away to shoot him a bemused expression. “I could never spend an entire night miffed with you, Moons.” 

Remus hummed noncommittally as he scanned your face. “Any amount of time would have been too much for me- hey, are you feeling okay?” 

His face took on a concerned form that you found him too pretty to wear, and you suddenly felt bone-deep distress at having caused it.

“Why? I’m fine; do I not look fine?” You asked worriedly, bringing a hand up to your own face which was perhaps warm, but you weren’t feeling clammy. 

The corner of his mouth twitched, though the furrow between his brows was ever present. “You look perfect, as usual, just… are you feeling alright?” 

You let out a sigh, looking anywhere but his piercing gaze. “I think I’ve got a cold coming on, I’ll be alright though.” 

His mouth pinched worriedly as he ducked trying to get you to make eye contact with him. “We don’t have to stay long then, yeah?”

You snorted as you gave him an unimpressed look. “We don’t have to stay long at the party for me that was thrown in part by you?”

“Right.” He agreed readily.

“I’ll be fine, Rem.” You assured him, patting his hand placatingly. “It’s my party, I can sniffle if I want to.”

And though he didn’t seem particularly convinced, he let you go when Sirius and Marlene announced that it was time to dance. 

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

You were taking a breather in the small kitchen of James and Lily’s flat when you started to feel slightly worse.

The tickle in your throat had officially turned into an ache in your chest, and your head was pounding - be that from the music, the dancing, the drinks, or whatever flu you were coming down with, you couldn’t be certain. 

But you found yourself feeling better as you let your head fall back against the cool wall; your hair falling away from your neck and allowing the air circulating the room to hit your overly hot neck and chest.

Maybe you should try to leave early?

“I’ll check.” You heard Remus announce; your face breaking out into a grin on its own accord as he came around the corner.

“Y/N.” He breathed out. “Are you alright?” He asked, standing in front of you with that damned furrow in his brow again.

“I’m alright.” Now, was left unsaid, but something in the tilting of his head alerted you to the fact that he heard it anyway. 

“What’s gotten into you, hm?” He asked slowly; words stilted as his eyes darted across your face, mostly speaking to himself as he searched your form for answers. 

“Did you find her?” James called out, causing Remus’ neck to crane as he peered around the door frame; and that’s when it hit you.

Chocolate, warm sweaters, and worn books.

Remus.

His scent. 

Your head fell forward as you took a deeper breath, and the remnants of whatever cold you were catching dissipated.

And the whole evening clicked into place; the discomfort, his incessant worry and focus on you, you felt better for a moment because he was near - not because you took a moment to breathe, he could tell you were…

Oh god.

“Y/N.” He said again, alerting you to the fact that he was now standing rigidly still and staring at you imploringly. “What-”

“This can’t be happening…” You whispered, eyes glued to the point just under Remus’ jaw that was so disturbingly close yet somehow not nearly close enough. 

“Are- are you…” Remus started, his gaze settling somewhere near your shoulder as he leaned closer to you and took a deep breath through his nose.

As if you scalded him, he went flying backwards from your being - his back making contact with the fridge so violently that it sent magnets flying.

Fuck, fuck! Fuck, he was going to hate you, now, surely? He hated you.

He hated you because he wanted you, but he only wanted you because you were fucking presenting - why? Why now? Why today? Why to him?

He’s never wanted you before; and now he would only want you because he was - what was very clear now - an Alpha and you were, apparently, an Omega.

Fuck.

“Fuck.” You hissed as you pushed the heels of your palms into your eyes until you could see stars.

“Dove-”

“No!” You shouted, pulling your hands away to see him having frozen in reaching out to you, now lifting his hands as if fending off a wild animal.

“Fuck, I need air.” You blurted, and you took off out the front door. 

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The evening air did little to quell your nerves and nausea over the events of the night. 

To present, tonight out of all nights, in a tiny flat with nowhere to run without causing a scene.

Not to mention the precariousness of your relationship with Remus that you valued over everything was now hanging by a thread. 

“You couldn’t have found us a more comfortable place to sit, gorgeous?” You heard Sirius drawl as he (loudly) took a seat on the curb beside you.

“I’m terribly sorry to have inconvenienced you so, Sirius.” You responded dryly. 

“You ought to be.” He continued. “This is not how I wanted to spend your birthday party.”

“Oh, fuck off.” You scoffed, elbowing him in the side causing him to sway as if you’d put any real force behind it. 

“If you fuck on, you get better results.”

You snorted. “Yeah, and if you fuck around you’ll find out.”

“Mmm, saucy, I like where this is going.”

“Padfoot.” You begged miserably, and he let out a relenting sigh before he pulled you roughly into his side, leaving his arm draped over you as you laid your head on his shoulder. 

“What are you doing?”

“I’m sitting on a curb outside.” You answered, earning you a pinch in the side.

“I can see that; I mean, what are you doing out here by yourself? Why aren’t you inside with your man?”

“Stop it, Sirius.” You spat, hastily sitting up and wiping angrily at your face.

“Merlin, you both really are that thick, aren’t you?” He muttered, searching your face like it would somehow answer his question.

“If you’re out here to make fun of me, you can go back inside. I’m humiliated enough.”

Sirius shook his head sadly. “I don’t understand why the two of you are making this harder than it needs to be; you’re both clearly mad for each other, you’re out here feeling sorry for yourself because you think he doesn’t want you, he’s in there feeling sorry for himself because he doesn’t think you want him.”

“He doesn’t want me, Sirius. We’ve always only been friends.”

“But you want him?” He asked then, causing you to put your head in your hands.

“Sirius, please, don’t-”

“Do you want him?” He asked again, more forceful this time. “Simple question, Y/N, yes or no.”

“Yes!” You let out with a sob. “Yes! I’ve always wanted him! I’ve- fuck, I’ve been mad about him for years and… yes. Yes, I want him.” The end of your sentence trailing off as you picked angrily at your nail beds.

Sirius seemed to steal himself for a moment, nodding his head as he sucked in a breath.

“I started calling him Moony before I ever knew of his lycanthropy.” He admitted then; and though you weren’t looking in his direction, you could feel his gaze burning a hole in the side of your head. 

Sirius let that sit in the air before he got up and stood in front of you, forcing you to look up at him. 

“I called him that because of the way he was always mooning after you.”

“Then why’d he freak? Why’d he rip away from me like that?” You asked - voice disturbingly small as you looked up at one of your oldest friends.

“Why’d you run?”

You let out a sigh and looked at the streetlights across the street instead of admitting “because I’m a coward”. 

“I can’t lose him, Pads. I-” Stopping as a painful shiver shook your frame - the cold taking over again now that you had some distance from your…

From Remus.

But Sirius didn’t rush you, he just continued standing in front of you as you struggled to find the words. 

“I can’t lose him.” You settled on. 

“Then don’t.” He said, toeing your shoe with his. 

“It’s not that simple.” You argued.

“It can be.” A voice sounded from behind you but a moment before you smelled him. 

And though the rational part of your brain wanted to brace yourself, the rest of your body immediately softened in his presence. 

“Well I’m going to go back in and enjoy the kick ass party I threw, so, if the two of you don’t mind…” Sirius said haughtily, shooting you a wink so that you knew it was all in jest and clapping Remus on the back before disappearing back into the building. 

You listened as Remus lowered himself onto the curb beside you; guilt flooding through you at the way his joints cracked audibly and at the fact that he seemed to be leaving quite a bit of distance between the two of you that he wouldn’t have even just a few hours ago. 

“Are you okay?” He started, and you fought the urge to scoff.

No, you thought petulantly, not only do I feel like shit, I’m also at risk of losing the thing that means the most to me.

“I’m fine.” You responded shortly, fixated on the skin surrounding your fingernails as you refused to look in his direction. “You alright?”

“No.” Remus answered quickly, and you did look up at that.

He was staring at you imploringly, his brows furrowed both with sympathy and perhaps a little bit of frustration. 

“Why’d you run?” He asked then.

“I-” you started, though you weren’t exactly sure anymore. “You…you seemed so startled, I… I thought you were upset.”

He seemed to pause as he considered your response; this sort of caution not usual for the two of you this far into your friendship. 

“I had just found out that the girl of my dreams was an Omega, and when she was clearly distraught, I was caught leaning in to get a better sniff.” He deadpanned, shaking his head at himself as he looked out across the street. “I startled because I was certain I was going to startle you.”

“I- you’re not? Startled, that is.”

His brows furrowed slightly as he shook his head, turning back to look at you. “Why would I be?”

“But…we’ve never been…more than friends; I didn’t want that to change now, just because you felt it had to.”

“It doesn’t have to.” He responded simply, and for reasons you weren’t willing to think on right now, that sentiment caused something very unpleasant to churn in your gut. 

“Nothing would have to change; you could still be you and I could just be me, and that would be fine. Is that what you want?” 

He held your gaze defiantly as you gaped at him. “I- but,”

“Is that what you want, dove?” He asked again, a slight force in his tone this time as he turned his body towards yours and his eyes flit down to your lips. “Because it is taking everything in my power not to claim you as my own right here, right now. I have wanted this for so long; so I ask you again, is that what you want? For nothing to change?”

“No.” You blurted quickly. 

“No?”

“No.” You whispered, shaking your head as you turned your body to face him too. “No, no. I want you, I need you-”

“Now? You want and need me now, or-”

“Fuck, I’ve wanted you since fourth year, Remus. Since I figured out why I hated Emmeline Vance so much.” You practically sobbed.

“Why?” He asked softly, looking like his lip wanted to tip up into a smile though he was dutiful of your current upset. “Because she fancied me?”

“Because you fancied her.” You corrected miserably. Remus finally brought his hand up to cup your cheek at that, and you hardly had a moment to feel embarrassed at the way you quickly turned your head into his wrist so you could get a better smell of him.

“My poor, sweet girl.” He cooed softly, a sympathetic sound emanating from the back of his throat at the sound that his phrase elicited from you. “I’m so sorry.”

“Please.” You whispered, no longer trying to withhold the desperation from your voice as you kept your nose pressed to the inside of his wrist and your eyes screwed shut.

“Okay.” He whispered back, even though he had no idea what you were begging him for - you supposed it didn’t matter; he didn’t seem particularly inclined to deny you anything you wanted right now. 

“Rem-”

“I know.”

“Please.”

“I’m right here, dove.” He whispered, pulling you towards him by your hand as you followed all too willingly. “I’m right here.” He whispered again, nose brushing yours before you closed the distance between the two of you.

The sound of the traffic faded away, as did the tarmac beneath you and the air around you; you seemed to be floating in a vast expanse that contained nothing but you and Remus.

You took a moment to mentally kick yourself as you deepened the kiss - nipping at his lower lip and causing him to smile before granting you access - that you could have been, should have been, doing this for years. 

“Ugh, fuck.” Remus muttered as he broke the kiss and rested his head against yours, seeming truly distraught at having to interrupt.

You didn’t even have a chance to ask what was wrong before you heard cheering from above you.

“Fucking finally!” James shouted as he pulled the tab of a party popper, showering the street below his balcony with multicoloured  confetti. 

“Pay up bitches; I told you this was the year.” Lily continued, holding her hand out expectantly as Marlene begrudgingly placed a few galleons into her friend's hand. 

“Oi!” Remus shouted at the group, a protective arm snaking around your middle as he held you closer to him as if he was worried you’d simply float away, “You better pay Pads his fair share then!”

You snorted and shoved your face into Remus’ neck - hiding your face as a ploy to get closer to him without it being nearly close enough. 

Remus chuckled as your friends filed back into the apartment and the world returned to its normal volume, bringing his free hand up to knead at your scalp in a way that made you want to purr like a sodding cat. 

“Fuck.” He breathed out, looking down at you with an expression nothing short of worship.

“You okay?” You asked then, bringing one hand up to draw a line down the bridge of his nose, simply because you could now.

“I’m perfect, you’re perfect.” Remus pressed, punctuating the sentiment with a kiss before he pressed his nose against the spot on your neck just past your jaw.

You instinctually let your head fall back; his hand tightening in your hair as he let out a sound halfway between a laugh and growl.

“Don’t sodding do that.” He scolded you playfully. 

“What?” You asked - half innocently half abashedly. 

“Submit to me, you minx.” He explained, booping you on the nose for extra effect. “Let me at least take you out on a date, first.”

A date, you echoed in your head; you had spent a lot of time daydreaming as a girl about what your first date with Remus would look like. You’d always imagined spending the day in Hogsmeade buying sweets and gobstones and books and quills before heading back up to the castle.

This was turning out way better already, though.

“So long as I don’t have to share you with James.” You joked, peering over Remus’ shoulder where you could see James peeking through the curtains before a flash of a camera went off.

“Hm…I’m not sure I can promise that for the first date, but definitely for the second.” 

“Deal.” You agreed readily, because really, you’d have Remus just about anyway you could have him. 

And you were simply overjoyed to know that he apparently felt the same.

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

I apologize in advance, but the brainworms did a heckin screech and I felt the need to share the chaos.

Imagine, if you will, that our Creator let's it slip that they've interacted with other worlds before reaching Teyvat. (Played other video games) Imagine having to explain that in these other worlds, they may or may not have been interested in the denizens of those realms...sometimes in the romantic sense, which led to wedding bells and/or children.

Cue the uproar from the Genshin cast. The Creator, Blessed Maker of All...you have courted others? Have been married?? You have had children??? Their image of you being pure and untouchable, blown apart into tiny little pieces of confetti. 🎉

Though many loathe to admit it, they are curious...who are these people, what are they like? Is there a common factor in your selection of spouses? You would only pick the very best of a realm to choose as a potential partner, surely another being of creation...or perhaps a demigod?

It leads to the proverbial red string board getting made, the Archons trying to find out who is your most likely pick from their regions. It's all for your safety, your Benevolence! If you insist on having a partner, they must find the perfect match for you! You deserve only the best of the best, after all.

Bonus points if the Creator was a fan of games like the Harvest Moon/Rune Factory series. They're gonna need to make a list of all their partners, there are so many options to choose from. >>_>>

I'll admit I never played any of those games so I skimmed through the harvest moon wiki and chose one of the bachelors and chose some other game characters lol. Plus a game for all of you, guess the characters.

Though I do think that the reader having children before causes a bit of whiplash because it's totally unexpected, mostly because there were no records of you taking spouses or kids, even knowing you ‘have’ (play) other worlds is a surprise that causes a bit of a crisis. Either way here are some head cannons.

“I must admit, your grace is awfully attached to Qiqi” Zhongli hums as he blows on his white tea, a small cloud of steam leaving.

Qiqi doesn't pay him much mind, her head coddled under your chin like a little puppy, between her hands there is a small bird plushie “Well, I must admit she does kind of remind me of one of my little ones” Your hand softly pats her head, a few strands of hair moving as you do.

He stills as you spoke, eyes fixated on his cup ��your… little ones?”

“Mhm?” Without looking up from the braid you were giving to the little girl you just nod “yep, she is quite soft spoken like Milenoe”

“... I wasn't aware your grace had sired children” there was never any mentions about holy spawns or spouses taken by you in any manuscript he got his hands on.

“Well, I never chose a couple from this world, so there wouldn't be any descendants” the comment slips airly from your lips as Qiqi slides off your lap towards baizhu who had finished checking the books from your bookshelf. “Do you want to see her? She started elementary school a few weeks ago” without waiting for an answer a screen appears displaying a tall man with black hair and horns standing regally behind you and a child with emerald eyes and horns.

“She looks rather shy”

You hum nodding “she is as shy as her father when he was her age. There aren't many children her age she can play with so she was pretty lonely her first 50 years”

“50 years?”

“her dad is a slow maturing species” so it should be 10 times the life expectancy than humans. Not that long for him but certainly longer than usual.

•°•°•

“It's a wonder to see how you manage to get Klee to change her mind about going fish blasting,” albedo scribbles some data half mindedly as he watches you hover next to Klee, who showed you a new drawings every few minutes “she is so stubborn even with Alice”

“Well I do have experience with headstrong children, Pardine is as focused on her goal as her father” one of your hands fall on her blonde hair, bright but still darker than Pardine’s almost champagne blonde and her red eyes polar opposite to her icy ones, a carbon copy to her dad. Even if your genetics rarely showed up on any of your kids it was uncanny how similar she looked to her dad and aunts “but I will admit she does annoy many guards asking to train her”

Albedo just laughs it off, listing the few loose characteristics of one of her spouses. Venti has been annoying him about his nation almost getting no information so he hopes a few spare tidbits and Klee’s rough drawing of a blond blue eyed man with a big shield works for whatever weird thing the archons have going on.

•°•°•

“Your Grace has married before?!” Ayaka gasps as you take a stroll around the nature surrounding her home. Her hand had swiftly unfolded her fan in front of her face.

“Mhm, I don't know why people get so surprised, after all it would be weirder if I spent so much time somewhere but took no lovers” you laugh at her slightly seeing her slightly flustered “it's almost a tradition at this point, to wed someone from each world. Want to see some family portraits?” She nods fervently looking at the tablet like thing that appeared on your hands, first a white haired cowboy like man is kneeling on the ground holding a baby by the armpits surrounded by three wolves ,seemingly playing with an older child, by the time the next imagine passes Ayaka is almost hanging by your shoulder, asking things about the siblings and begging to see more photos of your babies.

“And who did you take from teyvat?” Ayaka looks up sweetly at you, she has always held you in high regard and now that you are in Inazuma she can't help but get giddy thinking about how you decided to spend the stay in her state and most of your time with her.

Feigning surprise you tap your chin with your index finger “now that I think about it I didn't choose anyone yet... maybe it's about time”

“Then that means you could pick my brother!” She wraps her hand around your own, smiling as if she got the best idea ever “I could even call you older sibling!... If you wanted so of course”

“Big brother you remember how you told me you would find me a proper bachelor”

“If this is about wanting me to rush it won't work”

“It's not about it, I found you someone”

“Fine, as you please, need I remind you my standards are quite high”

“It's their grace!... Why are you choking on your tea!?”

•°•°•

“There isn't one damned coincidence…” Raiden slaps her head against the table with the rough drawings and some information about them “a king, a captain, a cowboy, a damned sorcerer…”

“Maybe there isn't supposed to be a coincidence” Nahida guesses “maybe they just look for someone who catches their eye”

“It doesn't help out as much as you think it does” the tsaritsa crosses her legs and leans against the back of the chair “if we are doing people with very clear characteristics maybe Ajax could fit nicely? Redheads aren't very common”

“Mhm, maybe but don't they have a liking for smart men? Then Alhaitham would be closer to their past couples”

“Well if we are going by that logic they should like the geo archon, as one of them has dragonic features” the tsaritsa side eyes Zhongli from the other side of the table.

Sighing deeply Furina, who came in place of Neuvillette, chimes in “It is their decision who they want to marry and even if they wanted to!”

"obviously you would be so calm, after all they are very close with your iudex. Don't get so cocky, I heard the commissioner Ayato is interested in the idea"

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

@miss-scarletletter Like. Just the concept of an MC that's slightly older. Comte in the background blending in as usual, noticing but thinking "ah, well, maybe she'll find somebody she likes here." And then he notices eyes on him from time to time, only to see her hide behind her hair the second he looks over. The first few times he's like ????? Maybe I was mistaken.

But then it keeps happening. Snatches of burning curiosity and intent, easily concealed the next moment with a smile directed at whoever she's chosen for the day. Until he's like . oh. OH--IT'S MY TIME

His lowkey giddiness???? Inviting her to his office, ever discreet but intensity humming beneath the skin. Trying to seem mature but so clearly delighted to be the subject of her attraction. Saying that he's simply "coming out of retirement," but then that side eye when he says he can't bear to see her looking forlorn--the implication that he certainly wants more than one night, so long as she does too. The way she tries to submerge her real feelings until she can't find them (whether because they're forbidden or she's just repressed), only for Comte to parse and unearth them with such eager reciprocation.

AUHGHGHGHGHHGHGHH KILLING ME SOFTLY--

I hope MC knows how iconic she is in this event for being like "No I want him to be a little bit fucked up actually" in Comte's story because GIRL SAME. S A M E

[carmyberzattosjournal]

Entry 17: A Man Possessed

GIF credit: @maikswen

Bearblr Promptober Day 17: Dumbification (Sub: Clueless)

Summary: Carmy has girlfriend (who he calls Darling) brainworms again, and he's even more of a disaster this time. (Or: the time Carmy had to leave work to go rail his girl)

Warnings: Smut, swearing, p in v sex, unprotected sex (she has an IUD but Carmy's not writing that in his journal), Dom/Sub dynamic, calling Carmy "sir", hair pulling, obsessed thoughts, mild spiraling, fem reader/rando lass who is a trauma surgeon, she/her pronouns.

Notes: All journal entries will be titled as such and tagged with #cb journal.

Thank you for reading. Thank you to @carmenberzattosgf for putting together this prompt list.

If you want to keep following this set of works, you can follow the #cb journal tag.

Sideblog for commentary and yapping: @m-z-shoroi

This is is a two-parter. The first part is here.

Also, if random letters or words are black/white instead of the colors they should be, that's Tumblr being dumb, I've been fighting it for days.

17 Oct 2024

I handled the second incident of Darling invading my brain much worse than the first.

I couldn’t fucking focus for five fucking minutes on anything. I was pissed off at life two minutes after opening, worse so when the place looked a fucking mess from the night before. Assholes couldn’t even clean up after themselves. I don’t even know how many times I lost track of what I was doing or why because my mind went to Darling instead of staying at The Bear. Here she was, burying her face in my t-shirt again, letting out that delicious sigh, the curve of her hip still visible under the blankets, and I wanted so badly to just grab her. To squeeze her flesh in my hands, dig my fingers into the round of her ass, to drown in her soft skin and her wet kisses to my throat. I wanted to bite her. I didn’t even know what to do with that—I just wanted to sink my teeth into the inside of her thigh before soothing her by putting my mouth to use elsewhere. Why? For what purpose? How does that make sense?

Syd must’ve noticed that I was off because she started helping with cleaning—didn’t even try to talk to me. I hate that, by the way; hate when I’m so far away that people don’t even find words worth giving me. I might not talk much, but if people don’t talk to me, I start feeling like a bug on the window; tiny, inconvenient, gross, unwanted, easily forgotten until I make an irritating sound.

I had to step out in the middle of cleaning—I hadn’t even gotten to prep yet, that’s how bad it was—and I found myself dragging my hand over the side of my neck and my throat. My heart throbbed with such violence that I wanted it to escape so I’d stop being harassed by it. My hands trembled, breaths got erratic. I heard her voice again, telling me to breathe, to find sounds around me, but it came through as static. The apple leaf adagio, the skittering of dried maple leaves, her body fits so perfectly in my hands, strawberry lip balm, what’s not to love? Fuck, that feels good, Carmy. More of that, pretty boy.

Pretty boy.

Please call me pretty boy again, I’m begging you.

I struggled to make it through the rest of prep. I’m fairly sure Sydney figured out I was that same sort of fucked up again because she didn’t wait for me to fuck up a count or fail to give directions before taking over the reigns of the kitchen. I turned into a line cook, just mindlessly doing what was asked of me because it’s what I knew I could do without making a worse mess, and she had the rest under control.

Syd always had it under control; I was the one out of control.

Once again, near dinner service, just when I thought I’d be fine, I cracked under the pressure. I had stepped out to get a break from the relentless heat of the kitchen, try to get some air that wasn’t saturated with the aromas of food (it sounds nice, but trust me, when you’re hour 10 into inhaling sautéed onions, confit garlic, vinegar, cumin, black pepper, olive oil, it gets so deep into your lungs that you feel like you might cough up a prime rib steak). The snap of cold air on my face shattered the dam keeping any assertion of reality in check, and I was inundated with this… how do I even describe it? It wasn’t quite rage, but it wasn’t far from it. Like I needed Darling. I needed her so badly that if I didn’t have her, I was going to break something.

Possessed? Was I a man possessed?

I had this crawling sensation, yeah? Not quite like ants on my skin; the feeling was bigger, coarser. It started in my back, spread to my shoulders, blazed down my arms, into my hands. I clenched and relaxed my fists, trying to ward it off, but when that did nothing—and it did precisely nothing—I rubbed hard over my arms, dug my short fingernails into my skin in some faint approximation of what Darling’s nails felt like. When I thought about doing it again, even harder, hard enough to draw blood if I had to, I knew I was fucked.

I bailed on the kitchen staff again, but something tells me they would’ve hated me being there anyway.

“Sweetheart? You’re home early, what’s going on?”

She’s on the couch fiddling with yarn—I think it’s crochet? Or is it knitting? I don’t know the difference—and has the 2005 Pride and Prejudice on in the background at a low volume. I don’t even know if she can hear it with how quiet it is. I throw off my jacket, and that’s enough for her to figure out something is wrong. She puts the yarn thing on the arm of the couch and unfolds her legs to get up, but I can’t, okay, I cannot.

“No, you stay there.” I’m sorry, did I just tell her what to do? Who the fuck am I?

She froze and leveled a look at me that I can only describe as a deer in headlights. Entirely confused. Clueless. Maybe even scared.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” It’s tiny. High in her throat.

She follows my face with those big eyes as I approach. It’s weird that it didn’t bother me then. It bothers me now, thinking about it, that she was probably confused as all hell and I should’ve stopped to talk to her, but clearly, I was on one. Or something. That crawling sensation was worse, and overwhelmed by the need, the sheer fucking need to taste her. Taste that strawberry lip balm, lap at her tongue, to occupy my mouth with soft, warm wetness. Fuck me, she was wearing my t-shirt, too.

She squeaked in surprise when I crashed our lips together. Immediately shot her hand to my forearm when one of mine blanketed over her throat. The other seized a fistful of her hair, and she grabbed at my wrist. Probably startled. It bothers me that I didn’t care at the time.

“Open,” I growled.

She obeyed immediately, relented control to let me explore her mouth, and wove her hands into my hair. Fucking hell, I needed that. I was starved of her, plagued with memories of her taste for 10 entire fucking hours—fuck I needed her, all of her, I needed her hands under my skin, goddammit. I pushed her down onto the couch, wrenched her knees apart, and settled between them. She tugged my hair in surprise and then coiled her legs around me.

“Pull harder.”

“Harder? Carmy—”

I used my grip on her hair to tip her head back and aim a glare at her. “I said pull. Fucking. Harder.”

She whimpered and did what I asked. My eyes drifted shut against my will at the tension on my hair—not painful, a sort of raw pleasurable that only pain could seem to bring in that moment. It was too fucking warm. It was boiling again. Why is it always so fucking warm? It was almost as if she could hear my thoughts because she yanked my shirt up and off. I went right back to attacking her with kisses. She hooked a leg high up on my waist and tightened it—have I mentioned how fucking strong she is? College soccer player. She’s really fucking strong.—and it was enough to trigger the ache in my back and force me to pause for a moment with my lips at her neck.

“Carmy,” she gasped, “tell me where your head is, sweetheart.”

Her sounding breathless shouldn’t’ve made me feel powerful.

I yanked off her shirt. May have torn a hook off her bra when I wrested it off her. Whatever, I’d buy her a new one.

“Carmy, I need you to talk—” I cut her off with more fervent kisses. She patted my chest, squeezed her legs again. “Hey, pretty boy.”

That got me to freeze and meet her gaze. She rubbed small circles over my chest.

“Hi… hi, sweetheart.”

“Couldn’t—” Fuck me, I could barely think. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Her confusion was replaced with a wide-eyed expression.

I ducked down to continue that hickey on her neck. I needed to leave some kind of mark on her. What the hell was going on with me? She trailed a hand down my abdomen and rested it on the bulge in my pants. Took her about two heartbeats to start fumbling with my fly. This wave of cool relief washed over me—don’t know what or why it was about—but it was brief, just a momentary breather in the flames of arousal consuming me. She got me free of my pants and underwear, kissed my temple.

“That better, hm?” Was she really trying to soothe me right now?

Did she not see the animal trying not to devour her?

It occurs to me now that I might’ve genuinely scarred her when I stared her down in response. She froze, searched my face, darted her gaze between my mouth and my eyes repeatedly. Had shaky, jerky movements when trying to shove off her sweatpants. It was odd that she wasn’t speaking. She tends to talk. Her voice is pretty soothing, honestly. At first, something of a regular check in and reassurance for me to know that I wasn’t fucking up, but now a familiar, comfortable, soothing riff in the soundtrack of our lives together. Of course, at the time, I didn’t register any of this because I just needed to be inside her already.

She tensed up when I hiked her leg up my side. Babbled frantically into my mouth, “C-Carmy? Carmy, be gentle. Please be gentle—oh fuck!”

How gentle do you think a wild animal can be, baby girl?

She was unimaginably tight but also impossibly wet. My head spun and it took every last frayed fiber of wherewithal to not immediately sink into her cunt as deep as I could. Forget thinking straight, forget thinking about anything other than the tight, wet heat enveloping my dick. I was pussy drunk already, and I just barely got started.

She dug her nails into my back, had one hand on my abdomen digging into my muscle. “Baby! Baby, please, slow down… fuck, that’s so good, but please—”

“You can take it,” I snarled into her ear.

She took a second, but then withdrew the hand pushing on me and busied it with my hair instead. Mumbled a small, “Y-yes, sir.”

Sir?

She moaned something of a pitiful sound when I got to work. Whatever that version of me was, it wasn’t gentle, but she didn’t seem to care. She hiked her leg up higher when I hit her deep, begged for more, clung to me tighter when I sunk my teeth into her shoulder and did just that, mumbled praises in my ear as I relentlessly fucked her through her orgasm. Good boy; that’s it, you’re making me feel so good; fuck, baby, I’m so full; I can take more, keep going. It crossed the rat’s nest of busted wires in my brain further. All I can remember is this raw, unfiltered, white-hot pleasure burning a chasm into my core, this tension winding so tight I couldn’t get enough air in. Braided steel cable creaking under a construction load? How do I describe this? Tightening rubber band? No.

Sinew tensioning as a dull knife dug into it. That’s an apt descriptor. Like with the ice cubes in the kitchen that first time. Only all-consuming, raw, visceral, centered on her—her scent, her heat, her strained breaths, her wetness, her taste. 

I hid my face in the crook of her neck when I was right on the edge.

Her lips brushed my ear. Her voice was strained but still the same kind of soothing to my soul. “Come on, sweetheart. Let go… Cum, pretty boy…”

I clutched her like a drowning man when my orgasm finally hit me. It knocked the air out of my lungs, killed a scream in my throat, set off a thrumming sound in my ears, first bathed me in flames and then abruptly flooded ice water through my veins. My abdomen screamed from how violently it spasmed, the muscles in my back seized up. Everything stopped. Everything—never in my life had my entire existence been so blank, so empty, so quiet, so at peace. I might even have blacked out for a bit (or my memory is just as shit as it’s always been) because the next thing I remember is slow, gentle caresses over my face, neck, chest, shoulder, then back up to my face to repeat the circuit. Her lips pressed to my hairline at intervals. My eyelashes brushed her neck while I tried to blink the cobwebs away.

“You with me, sweetheart?”

Nope. Not even close. I don’t even know what planet I’m on right now.

She smoothed my sweaty hair back off my face. Planted another kiss to my temple. “That’s okay. You’re safe. Take your time.”

This is going too well, right? She’s too perfect. God’s a sadist; that other shoe is going to return from orbit, and because I am willing to give my whole being to this woman, it will kill me. This love will kill me.

[cringefailvox]

staticbelle au, because this bsky art gave me brainworms. seven years pre-canon, charlie's mom and the radio demon have both disappeared, though it's too early to tell whether either of them is truly gone yet, vaggie hasn't fallen yet, and charlie is completely on her own. she's estranged from her dad, she has barely an inkling of a plan for how to save sinners, and her overwhelming compassion has nowhere to go—she wants to help people, but she doesn't know how. then she notices there's a new overlord syndicate on the rise, surging to fill the spaces the radio demon has left behind, and every window advertisement or tv commercial she sees insists that the vees want nothing more than to lend a helping hand to the downtrodden, if you would only trust them.

she's not stupid. she knows not to immediately take other demons at their word, especially not overlords, but the vees are swiftly building something she hasn't been able to accrue in two centuries: influence. sinners are listening when they talk, people are tuning into their shows and flocking to the entertainment district because it's safer than many other places in the pentagram, and charlie thinks this might be exactly what she needs. if she can convince the vees to platform her, if they're half as generous as they seem, she might have a real shot at changing people's afterlives for the better. and if they don't want to help her, then... she'll just have to be really, really convincing! no biggee!

enter vox, who cannot believe his luck. the kittens and rainbows, dumb blonde princess of hell waltzes right through his front door and offers him the opportunity of a lifetime to get into good graces with the royal family. he's greedy with alastor's absence and overeager to get his foot in the door on an even playing field with the other overlords, since bringing velvette onboard has catapulted the three of them into the mainstream and he's not about to lose his momentum now. he'll entertain her delusions, maybe give her her own talkshow segment late at night when no one who matters will be watching, forge a link between the morningstar name and the new identity he's staking out for himself in the wake of alastor's disappearance. after all, the worst that can happen is she embarrasses herself under his name and he has to swoop in and oh-so-benevolently rescue her, and it's not like val doesn't already do that every other week. plus, ratings are ratings.

so he keeps his word. he gives her a platform, albeit a limited one; he enthusiastically encourages her ideas for rehabilitating hell and privately thinks it's hysterically idiotic; he lets her deliver her pitches in musical form live on air and isn't charmed, not even a little bit. he expects that eventually she'll get discouraged and give up, and when that happens, he's going to step in with a warm smile and gently suggest that they try something a little different, a little more vox's speed, and if he can get her hand shaking his in the process then that's only a magnificent bonus.

except. charlie refuses to quit. she's not an employee, so she comes and goes as she pleases from the tower and suddenly vox's days are being interrupted by a sheepishly excitable princess who has a new script for him to look over or a tune she wants a second opinion on and of course vox is accommodating every time, of course he's supportive, even when he's so fucking irritated he plasters on an indulgent grin and invites her in, because he's made an art form out of swallowing his real feelings for the sake of appeasing the public or valentino or alastor and this is not a relationship he can afford to jeopardize with something as trivial as hurting her feelings.

so he indulges her. he picks up one of her glitter pens and reaches over to scribble something on her illustration of all the overlords holding hands and it's all downhill from there. before he can think to pump the brakes, he's being looped into genuinely investigating what qualifies as sin and redemption for damned souls, he's having his architects draft plans for an extravagant rehabilitation hotel that makes her cry when he idly mentions it, he's sighing and enduring the way all his vulgar mugs have mysteriously been rewritten with positive messages instead (fuck hug alastor!), he's letting her lean over the rim of his pools and gasp with sheer delight over his sharks because that doesn't give him the warm and fuzzies, not at all—and he's even somewhat patiently heeding her constructive criticism about all the mind control and abusive work environments and predatory business practices that the vees engage in. like, obviously they're not going to stop, but he does talk to val and vel about toning it down a bit, at least while charlie is around. gotta keep little miss sunshine happy, right? (no one tell him that he really doesn't need to be doing all this, he won't listen.)

meanwhile, charlie has gone full starry-eyed dreamer with vox's backing. for the first time, someone is genuinely supporting her, even if that person is an evil capitalist who sometimes feeds his employees to his sharks and is definitely hypnotizing people with his ads but, uhh. everyone has flaws!! and doesn't it kind of balance out, if he's helping her figure out how to redeem people, ensuring her ideas have real power and structure behind them, and even limiting some of the fucked up shit his partners do for her sake? maybe he's not doing it for the right reasons, but he IS doing good, and shouldn't that matter? charlie absolutely thinks it does. she didn't really intend for vox to be her first case study for proving that every sinner has the capacity to be better when given the opportunity, but like hell is she NOT going to milk this for all it's worth for as long as it takes for vox to realize that he's committed to the bit too hard and actually. Likes her. and wants her to succeed. and feels his mood lift when she's in the room. and may or may not be addicted to making her happy. g-d fucking dammit

all this to say that one day, when he presents her with the operational plans for the grand opening of the happy hotel, and she exclaims "oh my gosh, thank you thank you thank you" and leans up on her toes to kiss the corner of his screen before tackling him into a hug, and his screen explodes with pink pixelated hearts—well, he's well and truly fucked himself. whoops! the princess of hell is your girlfriend now. yeah, you've lost the plot. mazel tov

[penelopesartstash]

Recently had the Fates brainworms reawakened, so begins my redesigning of the royals and their retinue. I don't knoww if I'll get the the Hoshidans, but I have my eyes set on finishing the Nohrian sibs. Camilla and co are up next !

Selena's impressions of Nohr and its cavalry under the cut ~

~

Arriving in a new country is always weird. You'd think with years across worlds and realms I'd stop being surprised, but there's always something new that gets me.

Getting here was shitty, that's for sure. Our hands and legs were bloody from the climb out of the canyon, though Owa-hm. Odin. Had somehow kept Mikoto spotless carried on his back, didn't have time to see if she was any damn grateful for it though. About a days trek northward, and the lack of settlements was strange. This war we were told about was recent, recent enough there should at least be remnants of fighting along the border if there'd been people, but there was nothing. Just craggy land, some sparse trees and dry vegetation.

The town we did reach answered little, some wooly pigs but no signs of larger livestock, not like there'd be much viable land to raise them on. There were a few jacks, with one's meat being smoked in the center, broken leg they'd said. Az managed to grab us some local clothing and a large cloak for us to share.

Going westward as we were told only made Nohr seem more bleak. There was little farmable land, Nagas tits it was cold, and the woods, full of smaller game and wild boar, were vast and easy to get lost in (His Most Darkest Majesty or whatever rambled something about dark spirits, who knows). With the weather unpredictable as it was we managed to get a mule, in case we wouldn't be able to hunt during a storm. Bred from city stock, the seller'd said, which was surprising. So far we'd heard it only gets harsher towards the capital, no space for horses.

Passed by manors and minor lord's retinues, the people seem well trained, it's becoming clear what Mikoto meant when she spoke about Nohrians being a fearsome people. Living in these conditions makes them hardy, and the commons seem like one of those uncaring for social niceties.

There's a tournement being held in the capital, a merc on the road told us. I didn't get his name. Heading the same way he is; held by the royal family and a way to win a hiring near the castle. Lent us a spot in his wagon for the rest of the way, which is nice I suppose. Even got us a portion of smoked boar.

Az-Laslow, kept the conversation up for the ride. The mercs horse is Hlenni, got the right to keep her after he earned his parents land back in the south. Wealthy family from the sound of it. Been training her for battle, wants to serve the crown on the frontlines, take hoshidan land for his servants.

Cavalry's a lords 'right', apparently. Stories of fearless charges, many a tale of man and horse being as one like brothers. Odins giving him advice now, as if he's going to last 15 minutes in a real fight, but it's not my job to stop him.

-

I'm not sure what I was expecting once the treeline broke after another few days, but it certaintly wasn't this. The forest just ended, made more obvious with a line of burnt trees and ash and grey ground. For a minute I thought we'd been tricked and he'd taken us to some sort of prison, though Lazlow held me back before I could react. Standing on the side of the cart all we could see for leagues was dead ground, ash filled the air and in the distance dragonets circled an armored fortress, giant iron spikes protruding from what looked like a fucking cratered volcano. Odin was stunned for words for a moment, I think he felt out darkness-ed, the idiot.

My hand was on my hilt the entire way across the expanse, paths we could see leading to the 'city'. Other wagons pulled by horses meandering their way in and out which, seriously, where are they keeping these things?

I muttered as much to Laslow, and the bastard just winked at me, like he'd heard something he hadn't told us from our last stop. The security at the gate was impressive, the guards and city clearly expected attacks. Took about an hour to get through, winding in a tunnel built into the wall, a slow slope felt, definitively downwards but gentle enough for the animals comfort.

After the third inner gate, I was stuck in awe, as I always seem to be, at this new city. Laz ended up pulling on my arm to get moving. Laughing at me, probably. Asshole.

Didn't hear him though. Standing in front of us, nestled in this fucking volcano, was Krakenburg. An obsidian palace loomed in the center, held by pillars and connected to the upper layers with massive bridges. Below it we could see what seemed a district of rich and intricately designed mansions, connected to barracks and fortifications, and then...

Ah. There. A carved layer of miles of fertile land filled with grazing cattle and horses. I couldn't make out far enough, but it seemed expanded on the natural tiered interior structure of the volcano. I could also make out what appeared to be the bulk of the city stepped underneath, presumabely hiding the slums and and prisons even lower. Didn't have time to look further, we'd arrived where we'd be staying. The others laughter filled the background, and kept me warm against the harsh chill of the capitol.

-

Princess Camilla. Eldest daughter, Wyvern Sister, Scourge of the Western Plains, and fucking 8 foot tall smokestack. That's who I landed in service to. Not sure if I should be jealous of the others royals, Lord Xander seems like a stubborn pain to deal with, and Lord Leo distrusts any air breathed near him. But we're here now, one step closer to finding Corrin. Camilla at least is quick to gush about her family, so we know she's being held in a fortress to the north.

I've been sent to have Beruka, my new coworker, show me the ins and outs of the barracks and stables. I'm honestly having trouble figuring out how they created this place. Especially how they keep these animals healthy. Even with the pastures they must've adapted to live well without sunlight.

Most of the horses seem to be small, fleet footed things. Heavier than I thought they'd be, hurt like a bitch if they charged you. Most, I say, because I'm introduced to the Lady's riding horse, Ótr, who, matching the towering royals, must be 20 hands at the whithers. Ótr's breath felt like a stove in front of my face, and a brush was placed in my hand. I remember briefly hearing the crown prince was a renowned cavalier.

Ah

Laslows going to hate this next year.

[bace-jeleren]

Making a different post because this is giving me brainworms and I gotta let them loose before I'm eaten alive.

Can you imagine it- Gideon survives WAR, manages to free Liliana from Bolas' control and saves Ravnica and the multiverse at large. Him and the Gatewatch are heralded as heros, and under his leadership and new influence, the Gatewatch begins to expand across the multiverse, ushering in a hopeful era of peace.

THEN imagine, the man who made all that possible, who has won the trust and love of so many people, who defeated Nicol Bolas and united so many people, fell to Phyrexian corruption, and is made to work against the very peace he risked everything to build. He kills friends, betrays his loved ones, and now the shoe is on the other foot: Liliana finds herself in the position where she has to find a way to free him from the control of someone else.

*chokes on my own blood why am I fucking like this for real!!!!!!*

[merakiui]

I have arrived for..

HAPPY MERA DAYYYYY!! 🎉✨

I might be a bit early for you though but in our place it's 11/11!! Happy birthday to our dear Mera and may all the gacha lords give her the card that she had been yearning for and for you to have fun on your very special day!

... may tako (ಠ⁠ಗ⁠ಠ).. OR ANY OF YOUR FAVES COME HOME TO YOU~~

My gift to you is a brainworm for your birthday! As the queendom has said there is only one birthday for 366 days (it's a leap year) so happy birthday to you~

Skully J. Graves have kicked Tako out of your top fave (GOOD FOR YOU!) and so here is a brainworm for dear skully.

Skully is the King of Halloween and it is just befitting for him to have a queen just like how Jack has Sally. Many fans of him states here that skully would like a step sister or how he'll like you wearing something in the victorian era (or his era). I've got this idea out of your fic with Riddle with his father-in-law as a toy maker so, what if that's how skully met you? as a porcelain doll that he wouldn't have thought existed.

(I haven't been up to date much with his character but I'll try!) His mother who remarried a doll maker, from clay to wax to cloth he could make any tips but for Skully he has a favorite one, the human sized porcelain doll that his dear step father has made. So pretty, so calm.. surely it was made for him

Skullys been practicing wooing and courting someone with you, you wouldn't judge his shy self, just taking it with a soft smile that he thinks that deep down you were smiling at him, softly laughing as you think he's quite adorable with how he fumbles and stutters, he knew you'd accept him as how he is

But one day he heard that the doll is finally being delivered to the person who has commissioned the doll and he is desperate, what do you mean his doll is being taken away?? he couldn't just take it and hide it in his room and make his dear father who makes his mother happy pay for his mistakes so he volunteers to come with to deliver the doll, giving it a promise that he'd be back to take what's his..

and when they finally arrive at the manor, he stops. he stops and stares at the moving doll beside their customer that mysteriously looks too much like his doll who's in the box.

you were made just for him, weren't you?

hahaha I'm not that good with writing my thoughts out but I hope this at least got the brainworm through! happy Mera day once again~~ 🎁

PS. I love any name Mera gives to me hihi

-mafia tako/mera day anon

AAAAA DEAREST MAFIA TAKO ANON, THANK YOU!!!!! :D I feel like it would be much too egotistical if I gave you an anon name after myself (^^;;;), so I hope mafia tako anon is just as lovely a name!!! <3 now as for this delicious brain worm......... >:D

Ooooo I just love the idea of Skully falling head over heels for a doll, only to have his entire world shaken when it turns out there's a real person this doll is based on!!! >w< it could only be the work of fate that brought him to you!! And while he still treasures the doll very much, he quite likes the sound of your voice and the animated ways in which you move and exist. Stalking admiring you when you go out into town to do your shopping or when you're out on dates with your beloved (who shouldn't even be in the picture if you ask Skully >:( he wants to be your lover and he will,,, one day).

Skully who is so certain you'll love him in the same way he loves you. After all, he practiced kissing with you (the doll) and even professed his love dozens of times, and you accepted it with a wordless smile!!! So he's not sure why you (the real, living, moving you) is so frightened when he breaks into your home. He's sorry for being so rude and inviting himself in, but you just haven't been replying to his letters and he just wants to finally introduce himself in person... please don't be scared!! >_< waaa so delusional,,,

[a-knife-in-my-sandwich]

Orihime’s character in Bleach

I was rereading bleach and the brainworms have fully taken over

I can’t get over the way Kubo portrays Orihime. She’s fifteen and feels out of her league, preparing with her friends for a war she is not ready for. She hates violence so much it physically affects her attack power and people around her treat it like a weakness (except Rukia and Rangiku, bless their hearts). As if heading into war to protect the ones she loves, even though it goes against everything she stands for, isn’t one of the bravest freaking things to do.

And she’s so messy! She’s jealous of Rukia for being able to cheer up Ichigo but hates that feeling because she knows it’s unfair to her friends and she loves them both. She is scared for her friends and for her town and so she tries extra hard to help them all. She is determined and fiercely protective and she cries because she feels useless then feels selfish for crying. Like. That, right there, is a human girl. And her humanity gives the story an extra layer that most shonen simply don’t have.

Following that, I’m convinced that part of what makes Aizen so unsettling as a villain is because we get to see him from a human perspective. He is manipulative and cruel yes, but it’s his interactions with Orihime that make him truly terrifying (at least to me). It’s the comparison between the human and the monstrous, which Kubo also does with Ulquiorra and the two arrancar girls. Orihime doesn’t have an unbreakable shonen spirit. She can panic, she can break, she can beg for her friends to help her. She shows mercy to her enemies. All of these are things that the arrancar (and the shinigamis to an extent) consider weaknesses but they’re really not. They’re what makes her human and what makes the arrancar inhuman and just. I can’t get over this comparison. It goes so much deeper than the typical good vs bad storyline. Neither human and inhuman are necessarily evil or good they just are.

I probably didn’t phrase any of this the way I truly wanted to but ah well. Orihime is really one of the best characters, it’s a shame so many ppl write her off as stupid and useless

[theeyeofeverything]

Brainworms cannot be contained so I need to confess to you one (1) thing...

Yes. I have au where sols can be saved but there is a lil thing I need to mention... not all of them will survive... ACTUALLY THEY MiGHT BE HAPPY ONLY FOR A WHILE ONLY TO DIE AGAIN. Ooops!

So let's call this thing "out of spite AU".

Basic premise is Yi saves as many sols, as he can and all of them have a lession to learn. They given a chance to grow and redeem themselfs. Not in front of apeman or remaining solarians (if there id left any), no. It's a redemption before oneself. Because yes, they will be safe for a while, but the end is the same. Kuafu will be the only solarian to survive in the end... or does he?

Mainly trough this exist to explore 4 things: 1. Dynamics between Sols 2. How they will face their inner conflict (most of them remain their initial core traits, don't worry, but some aspects of them might change a little) 3. Sols interacting with ShuanShuan (it also ties to their inner conflict! He helps others like he helps Yi to understand that life good on its own. Mainly tho its a self-indulingent cute bonding stuff between Sols and ShuanShuan) 4. Jieyi (AM SORRY I HAVE SEVER CASE OF BEING REALLY INVESTED IN GUYS OBSESSED WITH PROTAGS I AM WEAK)

Who will be saved?

- Kuafu. Same as in canon.

-Jiequan. Well, I said it would be really funny concept for him to be saved first of all people. Yi doing exactly that, initially out of spite. But it's ironic that in the literal sense Jieqan did not win - Yi just broke all of his teapods and did not let him die like a hero become a gooquan - but he won the spiritual battle. His torture made Yi better. Well, it's not but it made Yi mad enough to do the opposite of rampage. He is restraind in the pavilion at the time (but not for long)

-Goumang. After thinking (and being really pissed) abou his and Jiequan similarity he desides that he might gone a little bit rough on Goumang. When he is back at the agrocurtual hall she is alive, but gravely injured. It's a miracle she didn't bleed out by the time they arrived at the pavilion. He and Kuafu tend her wounds, but she is NOT happy to be here. At least, at first

-Nuwa. At this point in story Yi is finally giving a rest to his killing rampage. Nuwa is a strange case because she is no use to Yi. Jiequan is a fighter, Goumang is somewhat of the healer in this au. Nuwa is a spoiled mean brat. Kinda just like him! No one deserve to die like...this. He will not let her go near Fuxi, when he's down. She would cry, crawl and bite her way out, but to no avail. I will say she is safe in this au for sake of exploring her personality and how it would change with absence of her brother around. How she would become independent.

-Ji. He is the intresting case because he is wanting to die. He is tired of life. He wants to rest and join dao. However I think he might stay for a while because his hexagramm... lied to him. Jiequan has to much impact in this AU huh. Well, I think he knew Jiequan and Yi's fight would not end good. He forsaw Jiequan die... but now Yi is telling him that the last member of the jie is alive and well! I think that would intrigue Ji, actually. Why would hexagramms lie to him? Did the Yi changed course of history? And additional layer to this if certain someone once also made a hexagramm prediction untrue.

Or, maybe, hexagramms want him to preserve this story too? His last story to tell.

Who will not survive:

-Yanlao. First, at this point Yi was not ignited by spite and did not reconsider his choices! And second - he is a lesson to learn for Yi. A irreversable mistake, that can't be take back. Not that he is greiving for this loss but it kinda make jiequan with his "do you think saving me does you a good guy automathicly? With other you was not that merciful, young master Yi" sting harder. And that is making Yi pissed, but... pissed Yi is a Yi how does rethink his decisions so maybe this is for the better

-Lady Etheral. Well she is no longer in a condition to be saved. She is basicly a brain in a jar and can't be brought back. All they can do is honor her properly. Let her rest at last.

-Eigong. This is intersting case because I belive she is long lost. At least, I think she is beliving herself to be a lost cause. She will not let Yi and Goumang save her. She will go with this ship, because her role is played already. So she would go on her own terms and would not be swayed. I love her so much as a character, but this the vibe I get from her. Besides I need more drama and angst for this AU sooo...

Let's stop for now. There is a couple of aspects I want to talk about more, but I think some of my ideas will translate better trough my art!

Not now, tho. Because I need to finish funny haha comics first and THEN do serious shit.

Feel free to ask about this AU tho!

[oddeyes588]

So, Oshi no Ko's ending... (spoilers, obviously)

What a fucking mess. How did we get here? How did we get from starting with such a high peak of storytelling and drop all the way down to hell?

I'm going to preface this by saying... regardless of how awful the ending is, Oshi no Ko will always hold a place in my heart. Hell, one look at my screen name should let at least some people know that bad endings have never been able to rid me of whatever brainworms I've accumulated for a series, and it certainly won't start now.

(CW: SUICIDE MENTIONS)

A certain someone infecting me with Ai Hoshino brainworms is also part of why. For better or worse, my hyperfixation with Oshi no Ko is set to last for a long while yet, even after it's ending.

So where to start in talking about this ending... well, let's start with the biggest thing. This is single handedly the most mind-boggling, absurd ending I have ever read, for all of the worst reasons.

Oshi no Ko, as a whole, has never exactly been subtle about its messages. The cruelty of the idol industry, of the entertainment industry as a whole. The self-destructive nature of revenge. Finding reasons to live for yourself, finding your own happiness... happiness for oneself. It was heavy-handed with these messages, and it's important that it was. Aka Akasaka seemed like an author who would not shy away from writing these criticisms, who had their main messages down pat, even if at times things got... questionable.

(Just look at the side materials that we got for Oshi no Ko. Things like Viewpoint B. Everything, if nothing else, remained at least somewhat consistent to what the story was trying to convey).

And yet somehow, for reasons I cannot begin to understand... at the end of Oshi no Ko, Aka spat on every single message his work has ever had.

Aquamarine Hoshino, a traumatized boy who views his life as worthless, ready to give it up and sacrifice himself if it means succeeding in his revenge, who has said outright that that he intends to die after his revenge is over... is faced with a chance for a new beginning, a chance for love, given a chance to life a life of real, genuine happiness... faced with SO MANY people who love him and want him in their lives...! And he chooses to die anyways, taking his father with him to the ocean depths in a murder suicide, all so that his sister wouldn't have to live with the stigma of having a murderer for a brother. Something he does without hesitation, because everyone will move on from him eventually.

And Ruby... oh Ruby. Oh how they character assassinated you... faced with the crying face of her own mother in her reflection, she conveyed the truth... the truth that Ai was always just an ordinary girl, an ordinary girl who had her real self beaten down by the desires of people, turned into a perfect and pure commodity, all for the ugly desires of the people... who was then KILLED for failing to live up to those desires... what does Ruby do?

She choses to surpass her mother as an idol... because sure, Ai may not have been perfect, but she won't be like Ai! She'll be her own idol! An even better idol!

And so she does. She effectively becomes Ai 2.0. Ai without all of those complicated hidden feelings, Ai but she really is pure this time.

And in the wake of her brother's death... Ai but without any happiness of her own. Without any happiness outside of her singular, sole purpose. Having lost everything that she held dear, she now truly is the Perfect Idol, and nothing else. A monument of praise towards the Idol Industry.

...Everything this manga had been building up to. Building up to convincing Aqua that he deserves happiness... hell, Ai's one and only wish, for her babies to grow up healthy, for them to be happy. Building up to Ruby finding her own happiness, finding her own real reason to be an idol.

With an ending that Aka has confirmed is what he'd wanted the entire time... everything is flushed down the proverbial toilet, never to be seen again.

Aqua dies pointlessly and in a way that goes against every message we've ever had concerning living for yourself. Hikaru never had nearly enough screentime, let alone an arc, to justify being irredeemably evil and needing to be killed. Kana never gets to confess her feelings, Ruby's feelings go forever unaddressed, Akane serves fundamentally no purpose, Ai's wishes go almost completely unfulfilled, and Ruby becomes a shell of herself with being an idol now the only thing she has... and yet all of this is framed as a good ending.

The idea that this is in any way a good ending is... completely baffling to me. I cannot understand what is going through Aka Akasaka's head. Not only is this narratively the worst possible ending, but even the ending itself feels so hollow... rushed, as though none of it really meant anything, least of all Aqua's death. All but proving him right.

His death, his sacrifice, his suicide was worth it. Because despite how many people were hurt by his passing, in the end, they all moved on just like he expected.

(WHICH, LET ME JUST SAY, IS AN EXTREMELY POOR, RECKLESS, AND IRRESPONSIBLE MESSAGE TO BE WRITING ABOUT FUCKING SUICIDE. ESPECIALLY TO A COUNTRY LIKE JAPAN, WHERE SUICIDE RATES FOR YOUNG PEOPLE ARE PAINFULLY HIGH!! IT WAS ONLY WHAT, 20-SOMETHING CHAPTERS AGO WHERE YOU HAD THE LITERAL MANGAKAS IN THE STORY GO ON FOR A WHOLE CHAPTER ABOUT HOW THEIR WRITING HAS AN INFLUENCE ON PEOPLE'S LIVES, HOW THEY HAVE TO BE READY TO TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR WHAT THEY WRITE, AND YOU WROTE AN ENDING THAT GLORIFIES A CHARACTER'S SUICIDE!? SAYING THAT ITS OKAY HE DIED BECAUSE EVERYONE WAS STRONG AND EVENTUALLY GOT OVER IT!?? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME—)

Sighs...

Ultimately, in the end, this ending was an utter mess of an execution. Ideas that Aka was clearly too committed to, never once seeing how fucked it was, and never changing course.

And honestly? The fact that he wrote such good shit before this, wrote what I would even describe as masterpieces... only serves to make this ending hurt that much more.

[harleyquilt]

Tell Me (Touken/Kanetou ficlet)

Summary: A fwb au, but the unhealthiest kind

Words: 1,895~

Notes: @hakucho-art gave me brainworms and now I toxic angsty touken is my terminal illness

Warnings: NSFT, 18+, toxic relationship/dynamic, dubcon (ish), femdom, this is basically just unhealthy smut :3

Letting out a shaky breath, Kaneki tilts his head back and squeezes his eyes shut. Touka frowns and grabs his face, pinching his cheeks between her fingers. Forcing him to face her, she stares hard into Kaneki’s widening eyes. He almost looks frightened.

“Don’t look away.” She commands. “And don’t shut your eyes. Keep your focus on me.” She lets go, moving her fingers over his cheek and down to his chin, running her nails against his jaw. He shivers. “Understood?”

“Touka-chan…” His voice is quiet and pricked with uncertainty. He then nods - a small, timid nod - and Touka smiles, her eyes narrowing.

“Good. Now listen carefully. You’re going to answer my questions, and in return,” her eyes flick down to his crotch, where there is now a noticeable tent rising in his boxer shorts. “I'll give you what you want. That’s a fair exchange, right?”

“Touka, I don’t know–”

“Shh,” she swipes her thumb over his bottom lip. “You don’t need to answer.” Biting her bottom lip, she moves her hand further down and presses her palm against his chest. She can feel his heart racing. “There is a lot at stake here.”

“W-What do you mean?”

Smirking, she leans back, her hand slipping down his chest and stopping above his pelvis. His body has grown firm and taut the past month or so, his soft flesh replaced with hardened muscle. She resists the urge to make a remark and instead reaches for her collar, unbuttoning her shirt. Kaneki watches her, his cheeks flushed, and his eyes glazed with lustful want. She slips her shirt off her shoulders, revealing a black, lacy bralette. He hasn’t seen this one before. Her stiffened nipples poke through the sheer fabric, tempting him, and his eyes follow her hand as she moves it down between her cleavage and over her stomach. His eyes dart between her hand and her eyes, and she knows what it is he’s asking for; his unspoken desire to touch her, to grope her, and to feel her once more, just as he has done many times before now. Even so, he looks on like a starved animal, desperate for his next meal.

But Touka shakes her head, denying him, and he frowns, while making no move to challenge her authority. He can be strangely obedient, Touka finds, relishing his disappointed pouts. She sighs, leaning back against her hands, and her skirt riding up her thighs.

“This is what you want, right?” She says, his eyes drinking in her visage. “You want to fuck me, don’t you?”

His blush deepens and he nods, his eyes darkening as they both begin to imagine him on top of her, deep inside her, their naked bodies pressed against one another. Her body feels hot at the mere thought, more so when Kaneki looks at her like this – without shame, without hesitation, and moments away from acting on his lewd impulses. Touka shuts her eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Is that…all you want from me?”

Kaneki blinks, confused, and he moves to sit up. “What do you mea– Oof!”

Touka pushes him back down with her foot, scowling. He looks at her, alarmed, but before he can protest, she moves her leg back and to her side. She reaches down to lift her skirt, revealing her pantiless cunt. As if struck by some kind of spell, Kaneki’s focus immediately shifts, his lips parted and eyes wide. His clenched fists twist into the bedsheets underneath him, and she can see that he is trying his best to keep himself in place, understanding that Touka is the one in control here.

“Don’t be impatient,” Touka smirks, parting her folds with one hand. Kaneki responds with a low moan, relishing the sight of her glistening pussy. “Just answer my questions and this can be all yours.” She lets her skirt fall back in between her legs. “Now focus. What do I mean to you?”

“Touka-chan, that’s a bit…” Averting his eyes, he shuffles uncomfortably in place, his blush deepening. “I don’t think we should…”

“Stop mumbling.”

Sitting on her knees, She grabs Kaneki’s thighs and spreads his legs open. He lifts his hands, but does nothing to stop her. He instead watches Touka, alarmed, while she crawls towards him, moving in between his opened legs and positioning her body over his. Pressing her hands to each side of his head, she glares at him, her face mere inches away from his. His cheeks are flushed and his breathing unsteady, but still, he makes no effort to move her back, allowing her total control.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” With one hand, she reaches down to his crotch, rubbing her palm over his hardened erection. Kaneki sucks in a sharp breath, struggling to keep his eyes open, and Touka leans in closer, her nose touching his. “What do I mean to you, Kaneki?”

Lowering his eyes, Kaneki hesitates to answer, pressing his lips together. Already, Touka can feel him slipping away, even while entrapping him with her own body. Tutting, she moves her hand up and over the tip of his clothed cock, before running her fingers back down and squeezing them around his shaft. He gasps and whines, his back arching. He wants more, thrusting into Touka’s hand, but as soon as he tries, Touka pulls her hand away, leaving him rutting into the empty air. Kaneki winces and sinks back down onto the bed.

“That’s not fair, Touka-chan.” He mumbles, and a flash of anger seizes Touka.

“Tell me, then.” She snaps, her words sharp and pointed. She grabs him again, her strokes quick and rough. “Tell me – what am I to you? What do you want from me? If you tell me, I’ll let you cum.”

Kaneki grabs her wrist, grimacing. “T-Touka, wait. I don’t understand–”

Kaneki tries to sit up again, but Touka is quick to push him back down. Pressing down on his shoulders, she lifts herself up and straddles him. Their crotches pressed together, she can feel how hard and stiff he is, and moaning, his hands move instinctively to her hips.

Sneering, she grabs his hands and presses them back down onto the bed, leaning over him. “What’s so hard to understand?” She mutters, lacing her fingers through his. “It’s a simple fucking question.”

“It’s just that…” He lets out a shaky sigh, shuffling underneath her. “I don’t understand why you’re asking me like this.”

She frowns, looking away. She then leans down, her lips to his ear, and she speaks in a low, chilling voice. “Because you’re a coward, Kaneki.” She pulls away, glaring, and she lets the words soak in, his concern shifting to irritation. “I thought it would be better if I gave you an…incentive.”

“Touka-chan…”

“Shut up.” Her jaw clenches. “Just shut up!”

Touka rolls her hips forward, and they both moan, electrifying pleasure jolting through them. She pushes back and then forward again, and then again, and again, until they begin to pant and moan, desperate for more.

“Touka, i-if you keep g-going, then–”

“Not yet.”

Straightening, Touka reaches down and pulls Kaneki’s dick out from his boxers, giving him temporary relief, before positioning the tip between her slit. He looks down between her legs, feeling her hand guide him, and he swallows, hesitating still to stop her. And seeing his hesitance, she sinks slowly down onto his thick, throbbing cock. Her chest heaves, feeling him fill every inch inside her, and Kaneki cries out, arching his head back. Settling on his lap, her cheeks flushed, Touka watches Kaneki, watching his expression twist with a strange mix of satisfaction and discomfort. Gritting her teeth, she lifts her hips, before slamming back down against him, prompting the two of them to moan loudly in response.

“You’re pathetic,” she groans, continuing to thrust herself down onto his dick, again and again. “And a pervert, and a– ah!”

Kaneki moves his hips up to meet her, matching the rhythm of her movements. It feels good, feeling him take her like this and use her the way he wants. But it's not enough. It's never enough.

“T-This is all I am to you, right? I’m just a body to keep you w-warm at night. T-That’s all I ever was to you. Admit it.”

“I-Is that what you r-really think?” He says, speaking in between quick, shallow breaths.

She leans further back, grinding against him. She pushes herself as far as she can go, shamelessly pleasuring herself with his body. Again and again and again, having him reach deep inside her, hitting her sweet spot. Hitting her in a way only he can.

And all the while, a deep, sinking despair continues to grow in the pit of her stomach, pain mixing into pleasure and anxiousness tainting the sensations riveting through her. Touka shudders, knowing that soon, she'll be left with nothing but the dread dwelling within her, abandoned and forgotten, like a piece of trash.

“I-I mean nothing to you. Nothing at all.” She tilts her head further back, shutting her eyes. “But that’s okay, that’s okay, b-because–”

I'm selfish.

“No!” He lifts himself up, grabbing her waist. He rams into her and Touka cries out, her body trembling. “That’s not true at all.”

“Don’t lie to me, don’t even try.” She winces, tears gathering in her eyes. Their hips continue to roll against one another, eliciting wave after wave of euphoric pleasure. “I know it’s the truth.”

He reaches forward, pressing a hand against her cheek, but she grabs his hand and moves it to her chest, squeezing it against her breast. He frowns, thrusting harder into her, and he pulls down her bralette, groping her breast and rubbing a thumb over her nipple. Touka bites her lip, hard enough to draw blood, and she squeezes her eyes shut, hoping it’ll be enough to hide her tears.

“W-Why are you doing this to me?” Kaneki breathes, quickening his pace. “How can you t-think that–”

“I-I’m going to cum.”

“T-Touka,” Kaneki grunts, leaning his head between her breasts. “I-I–”

With one final thrust, he cums deep inside her, spurting his semen into her. Touka continues to move against him until her body begins to tremble, her cheeks wet with tears. She cries out, wave after wave of intense, agonising pleasure washing over her. She soon falls limp against the bed, feeling Kaneki move out of her. Shuddering, she feels his cum spill out of her, first warm, and then uncomfortably cold against her clammy skin. Kaneki sits back, breathing heavily, and he watches her, pale and sweaty. He runs a hand over his face, pressing his palm against his mouth and looking away.

Watching him, she knows already that he’ll be gone by the time dawn breaks. It’s hard to know what he will do following this night; if his weekly visits will continue, or if he’ll finally bring an end to this strange relationship of theirs. It’s hard for Touka to say which she’d rather prefer, or which she thought to be right. Nothing seemed right anymore, forever feeling lost in the directionless life she has been forced to live. Even now, regret begins to swell within her, and she curls to her side, hugging herself. She closes her eyes, and she knows he’ll be gone soon, and she’ll be alone once again.

[neko-naruto]

sugar and spice, but not so nice

Summary: Riff's definitely not hurting for a Pop Troll, regardless, Barb offers to lend him a hand in getting Floyd's attention

Warnings: swear words censored when spoken by Pop Trolls cause its funny, there is tension and its almost sexual

Authors Note: the fliff brainworms got to me guys, I couldn't stop myself the second I got a keyboard in hand, it just happened. hope ya'll enjoy, and if you do consider dropping a reblog or checkin' the ao3 port

"Really, Riff? That Pop freak is the Troll you're jonesing for?" Barb asked.

Riff just nodded and Barb had the audacity to laugh, "What's so funny about it?"

"Oh nothing, it's just that he's the epitome of sugar, spice, and everything nice," Barb stated boldly, almost abrasively at that. She looks so very, very disappointed in Riff, "C'mon man! There's so many rockers and you choose a Pop troll! We got Death, we got Punk, we got Thrash- and you choose someone who clearly isn't any of the above."

"He's sort of like, Pop Punk," Riff said, "But he could totally pull a death scream if he wanted too."

Barb scoffed, "He's pink, he's so pink it makes me want to vomit."

"Magenta," Riff corrected sharply, "His hair is magenta and white, we could introduce him to hair dye."

"That's illegal in Pop," Barb said, "He'd be staked if you dyed his hair."

"Then he could stay in Rock, until it faded out, just for a little bit," Riff said.

Barb gave a faux gag and the tuft of her tail puffed up, "You're gross."

Riff props the rim of his toque up with the blunt end of his drumstick, "How about Viva? Isn't she also a Pop troll?" He's pushing his luck, he's pushing it harder than he thought he ever would.

"Let's move onto the next subject," Barb swiftly answered with, quick to defend her own sanctity of being a Rock Troll who definitely isn't out for a Pop Troll. A Pop Troll without any Rock tendencies, because she'll admit it, Floyd has some Rock potential despite everything. "Hair dye. You want to dye his hair for a date?"

"To help him blend in more," Riff answered with, tail flipping back and forth, "I'd really like to perform some music with him."

"I'll pull some strings for you, my shockingly smart friend," Barb answered with.

-/-/-/-

Floyd is the one who chose the song, he's the one who chose the list of songs he wanted to perform. And all of them were shockingly raunchy, shockingly explicit, very unbecoming of a Troll whose origin is Pop. It shocks Barb more than it does Riff, she just stares at the list and reads over them while Floyd looks at her like a puppy.

"Lemme just," She pauses, then speaks, "Nine Inch Nails?"

"If you don't mind," Floyd tacked on before she could further question.

Barb laughed a bit, "Please, I love them, woulda been a fan since day one but I wasn't quite born yet. But the songs?"

Floyd can't quite form a verbal answer, just give this sheepish grin. Barb swears his fringe falls a little further over his eyes and she's bold enough to reach out a paw and bat it away. The bleached section is frail, it feels like hay compared to what still retained that magenta hue she mocked. He almost lurches back, his fur just stands on end, and Barb pulls back her hand.

"Personally, I like them. But singing about fucking someone to feel alive doesn't seem your speed, isn't there a weird Pop language barrier?" Barb asked, "Or that one line from a different song, 'I am a good boy and I will swallow it all,' Floyd, that's an amazing song but jeez."

"I thought it'd be funny, cause whenever I try and swear it just," He pauses, trying to find out how to describe it before settling on just swearing, "F*ck, a$$."

Barb laughs until her stomach hurts at the garbled intentions of swearing that Floyd manages to provide. The Pop swear barrier has never been funnier in her entire life, but the fact he can enunciate enough to get the idea of an expletive across is impressive. Trolls like Poppy can barely say 'frick' without a large censor forcing itself in place, but Floyd? He's almost broken it.

"Alright kid-"

"I'm older than you,"

"Same difference; I'll cue up the songs for you and Riff,"

"You aren't joining?"

"Not unless you want me too, might hog the spotlight, sorry if I do," A small giggle snort, "It would be fun to try and go at it with a Pop Troll."

-/-/-/-

Riff stares.

He stares the entire fucking show.

He can't help it really, eyes stuck on a Troll like Floyd as he just drums out the beats and Barb strums out the additional bass lines. It's a comfort really, having someone in the back man the soundboard for the industrious instruments they can't quite do as a trio.

He holds on tight to whatever sense of sanity he can grasp whenever he gets gifted a glance at Floyd's face. He really is head over heels, he really is deep in this pit, for a Pop Troll of all genres. Albeit, a Pop Troll that's belting out songs of the industrial rock genre with an uncanny amount of ease. But still a Pop Troll, still something he'll be disowned over at the dinner table even if Barb goes public with Viva.

He'll just take this if he can't get anything else.

He'll take performing songs with his two favorite Trolls over nothing any day of the week.

-/-/-/-

Post show jitters reside comfortably on Floyd's fur, splayed atop an amp larger than he is with his tail lazily thumping on the material. His chest is heaving and he's curling and uncurling the mic cord around a finger, painted nail scratching at the plastic so rarely.

"Good show," He manages, voice cracking just a bit with how much he stressed it trying to break the Pop swear barrier for one song. He failed to do so, but he still tried until he felt like he was passing out, vision nearly going spotty. It was more fun than he'd ever had performing with his brothers.

Riff takes a heavy breath, "Great show," He's giving this long exhale that's almost a laugh as he speaks.

"Amazing show, I should go work an after party," Barb mused.

"Aw, is your girlfriend rubbing off on you?" Riff teased, rolling onto his stomach where he lay on the cold, hard, concrete ground. It eased his nerves, they were still on fire, the layers of denim and torn fabric probably didn't help much.

"Girlfriend? Tell me more, Riffy," Floyd said before he could stop himself, glancing down at the navy Troll from where he lay.

"Barb has a crush on Viva," Riff drawled as he pulled himself into a criss crossed position, one leg over the other. Floyd nearly laughs.

"Hey man! We agreed not to talk about her," Barb snapped as she stood up from her chair. She stretched her arms over her head and her tail snapped to punctuate her sentence, "Not like you can talk either."

Floyd raises a brow, "Tell me all about it, Barb," he lets his legs sway over the edge of the amp.

Riff sends Barb a pleading look, a begging look, desperation impossibly clear on his partially obscured face.

She just grins, "Well, our friend here has a crush on a Pop Troll. A fella trying to change genres when no one's looking," She winks at Floyd and watches as Riff tries not to respond to the words viscerally, that would give it away and he's highly aware that Barb is trying to play him like the cheap kazoo he is.

"Controversial," Floyd managed to supply, "But fun, inter-genre relations are still kind of, ya know."

"Yeah, kind of," Riff answered with, "Rock Trolls are wide open to the idea in my experience. We legalized polyamory a hundred some odd years ago. We're working on the papers for inter-genre stuff as we speak."

Floyd laughed, "I should just, live here as a Rock Troll. Pop Rock, Pop Punk, Pop Thrash- I could make it work."

"That you could," Barb said, there's this twisted grin on her face, showing off all of her fangs, "But really, I gotta catch that after party, you two can chat."

It's a segue into a conversation really, a shoe in for them to continue speaking as she leaves. She wants this as much as Riff does, maybe if she gets him with Floyd he'll let her fawn over Viva in peace.

Riff just taps his drumstick on the ground, balanced between fingers and tapping back and forth. Floyd just stares at Riff from the amp comfortably, sort of like a cat on a high perch.

"So this mystery Troll, tell me more," Floyd prompts as he slides off of the amp, "If you want too."

And Riff does want too, he wants to tell Floyd everything, but he bites his tongue. He just shrugs, "Nice guy really, probably heading back to Pop sooner than later."

"Pop? Are you crushing on JD?"

Riff shudders, "No offense, but he's too Country coded."

"Did you just call my brother Country coded?" Floyd asked with this devilish smirk, slowly stepping closer to Riff as he goes.

"Am I wrong?" Riff countered with a nervous chuckle.

"Never said you were, but continue about this Troll," Floyd urged, if he just reached out he could trace his hands across Riff's face. Learn every contour, twirl a finger through his hair, that would be nice, that could also be the adrenaline talking.

"Right, right," Riff stalled, what else he could say that isn't virtually outright saying that it's Floyd? Not a whole lot, "Got a great voice, an amazing voice with even greater range. It's scary really, he just hops on stage and gets into it, like he's a different person."

Floyd's tail flicks just a bit, Riff doesn't notice the tell that the Pop Troll is onto him.

"And then he starts to sing, most Rockers have deep voices naturally, but this breath of fresh air, a blend of Pop and Punk? It's amazing," Riff overexplained, just going off, "I'm talking too much, aren't I?" He looks up to find Floyd much, much closer than before. Red instantly rises to the Rocker's face, a stark contrast to his usual hue.

"No," Floyd said quietly, the flow of words pausing just enough to make Riff worry. He comes to a complete halt when the gap is small enough their knees are almost knocked against each other, "Keep going."

"I would," Riff begins, drawing out the syllables as he stares at Floyd through the blur of black hair and fabric alike. He brings a paw to run through his hair and it knocks back the toque just a bit, "But, I don't know what else there is to say without totally blowing the covers," He pauses, "He's really pretty."

"It's me," Floyd declares.

"It is," Riff confirms.

The Pop troll places a gentle kiss to Riff's forehead, one of the few spots where frizzy black hair isn't splayed over his fur. He rears back just a bit, "That's pretty fuckin' sweet," He doesn't even realize the Pop swear barrier dissolved entirely for a brief moment.

"Pretty fuckin' sweet," Riff echoes back before pushing aside a chunk of Floyd's fringe to return the motion. He almost flinches back from it, expecting the contact to sting or ache with how frail that performance left him, but it doesn't. It just feels nice, a warmth sprouting all over his body, it tingles and he loves the sensation.

"You should go tell Barb, we could pressure her into telling Viva," Floyd proposed, "That'd be fun, no?"

Riff is reeling, it took a moment for it to catch up but he is fucking reeling when it finally does. His eyes widen just a bit, there goes the boldness of adrenaline, "That actually happened," He tentatively places his paw on Floyd's, it isn't shoved off, "Oh my god it actually, it happened."

"Yeah man," Floyd said, pressing another chaste kiss to Riff's face, this time his cheek, "It did, and I'll do it again."

Before he freaks out he manages to collect himself enough to breath, "Let's go find Barb, she's been listening to me talk about you for a while now."

"Oh? So this crush isn't a new development?" Floyd teased gently.

"Not at all. But her thing for Viva? That's new," Riff countered with a laugh, it's nervous, just to fill the silence, "But us, we're a thing, those kisses?"

"Those kisses made us a thing," It's a calm reaffirmation, a promise with the squeeze of a paw.

"See, that's new, newer than Barb's crush on Viva," Riff explained, "Which is why we need to find her and tell her."

"You're freaking out,"

"Oh absolutely, you just kissed me, why wouldn't I be freaking out?"