#so he doesn't startle or scare you too much when the reveal happens

[dragon-ascent]

ok so this isn’t really an ask more of a ramble sesh

thinking about finding chonkli sun bathing one day and taking him home

cut to reader leading a domestic life and zhongli (who has remained in chonkli form the whole time) being absolutely smitten with them and their way of life. He’s sitting there in chonkli form daydreaming about living with them, marrying them, cooking together, slow dancing in the living room, ect.

just thoughts

(also i’m gonna be here a lot so can i be 💫 anon)

You're cooking so hard anon!!

Imagine if reader gets him a comfy little pet-bed, but obviously he insists on sleeping with you, curling up on you stubbornly until you have no choice but to give in - which comes easily since he's downright adorable.

Oh and think of his little kissies!! :((( he'd take every chance to express his affection! Though I wonder how long he would wait until revealing his identity...

Thank you for sharing eeeeek! <333

[thedemonofcat]

When Jaskier's angry or upset, it's always "Don't touch me!" "Get away!" "Hands off!" And then the bard will be gone for hours or days until he calms down.

Now, Geralt understands this kind of reaction. He himself doesn't want to talk to/be around others when he's angry. Much less let anyone touch him. The thing is...Jaskier acting that way never fails to make Geralt feel like shit. Jaskier is usually so affectionate that the sudden cut off is jarring. The first few times it happened, Geralt had been sure that Jaskier was fed up with him and leaving for good.

However, Jaskier always returned. They would make amends, and the bard would resume his touchy, affectionate ways.

One day though, they had their worst argument to date. And although he had always come back before, Geralt was certain that this was the time Jaskier would leave forever. If Jaskier walked out that door, Geralt was sure he would never see him again.

So, unthinkingly, Geralt caught the bard's wrist.

Jaskier's eyes widened, anger replaced with pure panic. "Geralt! Let me go! Let me go right now!"

Geralt loosened his grip reflexively in response to Jaskier's panic. Did the bard think the witcher would force him to stay? He opened his mouth to try to explain.

Only, the world was...spinning. And Geralt's tongue was heavy. And everything was warm. Oh, he felt so very sick.

Then, the world went black.

An unknown amount of time later, Geralt woke. He felt kind of hungover but was otherwise fine. To his relief, Jaskier was sitting at his bedside.

When the bard notices Geralt is awake, he inquires after his health. At Geralt's reassurance that he was fine, Jaskier launched into a tirade about the number of times he had told Geralt "NOT TO TOUCH HIM WHEN HE IS MAD! AND THAT INCLUDES RIGHT NOW, YOU SCARED ME HALF TO DEATH, YOU BASTARD!!!"

Geralt is a bit confused about how Jaskier being mad and his fainting spell were connected.

Two things are revealed that day:

Jaskier is part fae

Some fae become toxic to touch when they are extremely upset or angry or scared. It is a magical trait, so it wears off when Jaskier calms down; nevertheless, it is dangerous.

This puts some things into perspective. Like how Jaskier, who seems to feel entitled to his emotion/reactions no matter how inappropriate they may be, is very skilled at controlling his temper. Or how when he does lose it he chooses verbal slander over physical violence. Or how when there IS a physical fight Jaskier wraps his hands in cloth and tries uses blunt instruments.

Bonus: Geralt tells all of the witchers not to touch Jaskier when he's mad, and Lambert takes that as a challenge.

When a fae is startled enough by touch, it can shatter their Glamour.

That’s exactly what happened when Lambert was goading Jaskier, determined to rile him up, resorting to poking the Bard. But when Lambert finally made a remark about Jaskier’s feelings for Geralt, something inside Jaskier snapped the moment he felt the poke.

A surge of magic erupted, sending Lambert hurtling backward. He crashed against the wall, clearly injured. Everyone turned to stare at Jaskier, who now stood transformed—his fae nature fully revealed. Pointed ears, delicate horns sprouting from his head, and his bright blue eyes glowing even more intensely than before. To top it all off, Jaskier hovered a few feet above the ground, wings unfurled.

Geralt had never seen his Bard look so otherworldly, so undeniably fae. It was both mesmerizing and terrifying. He knew Jaskier hadn’t meant for any of this to happen, but Lambert had pushed him too far.

As the anger faded and Jaskier glanced around, he was met with wide-eyed fear. They looked at him like he was a monster. Overwhelmed, Jaskier shrank himself down with a flicker of magic and flew away, disappearing into the air.

[bapple117]

File Not Found a radiostatic one-shot - AO3 link

Vox x Alastor (Unrelated to my main radiostatic series)

Minor angst, fluff, romance

During a system update, something goes awry for Vox and the update messes up, reverting his memories back to ones he'd saved from 1976... back from when he and Alastor had still been friends and partners in crime.

Confused and scared in a Hell he doesn't recognise, Vox searches out for the one familiar presence he knows will always be there - his old friend, his mentor, the Radio Demon.

6k words

(thank you @impale-me-radio-daddy for the guidance and inspo on how to format this nicely, ily)

The afternoon that Vox finally decides to relent to the ceaseless, nagging notification buzzing in his head daily - system update ready - happens to be a pretty dreary one. Rain falls lightly from the inexplicable skies of Hell; frail little drops that pitter-patter against the sleek windows of the Vee’s building, smearing like tears on the glossed glass.

Vox has been putting off the update for about a week, groaning every time the reminder pops up; remind me again tomorrow, he opts for, waving off the alert with an impatient hand gesture. Vox has better things to be doing. Spending an hour sitting static, plugged into the mainframe, waiting for files to finish installing - it feels as tedious as it sounds. 

But then, Vox stumbles upon this day; this sleepy, rainy Sunday afternoon, with nothing much on his schedule and no-one around to play with. Valentino is off filming; Velvette is at some conference, of all things. Vox finds himself milling about in the lounge, reclining on the sofa, dangling his leg in a fidget as he scrolls through his phone.

The alert strikes again. 

System update ready! Initiate now?

“Ugh, fine,” Vox sighs out, rolling his eyes. “Let’s get this out of the way, then, shall we?”

Staggering sluggishly into his control room, Vox flicks a few switches to boot systems up and then scrambles around, looking for the right cables. He mutters to himself; hushed, irritated mumbles of nothings and curses as he sorts through the mess on his desk. 

The alert bleeps at him noisily, again. 

“Yeah! Yeah,” Vox says, his annoyance and exasperation tinging his voice with a sharp edge. “I’m fuckin’ going as fast as I fucking can, just fuckin’…”

Vox’s narrow fingers land, finally, on the correct set of cables; he snorts to himself in victory. There we fuckin’ go. Settling into this chair, the Television Demon snaps the cable attachments into the back of his head, feeling an immediate surge of tingling power and connectivity in his nerves. 

“Alright, initiate mainframe interaction,” Vox says aloud, to no one but himself and his interface. “Update install, authorisation granted.”

An option pops up on Vox’s screen, and he can see it in his mind, too; allow system override?

“Uhhh, fuck, I forgot what that does,” Vox says, weary. “Let me get more info on that.”

System override will enter you into stasis. The system will commence the update and will automatically authorise any necessary backup installations should any errors occ-

Vox waves away the information screen, scoffing. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” He says, rolling his eyes. “Whatever, blah blah blah. I haven’t needed to restore from fuckin’ backup in ages, who gives a shit. I could do with a nap anyway, so. Let’s fuckin’ go.”

Vox authorises control of the update over to the system AI, and the initiating process slips him into a deep but comfortable sleep-state. 

Initialising… 

Preparing to install…

Update installing…

….

….

….

….

Update unable to complete. Retry?

/ AUTHORISE RETRY: YES (SYSTEM proc)

….

….

….

….

ERROR

ERROR

ERROR

ERROR

error

—

—

Restoring from backup 

….

r e s t o r i n g …

Vox wakes, unsure as to why he was even asleep in the first place; his eyes open and reveal to him an unfamiliar space. What the fuck? He looks around, startled, confronted with a legion of strange screens and devices that he doesn’t recognise. 

Standing, stumbling, Vox lists forward and something prevents him from moving; cables, latching on to him like the gripping tentacles of some great beast. Grunting in confusion, Vox yanks at these, pulling them out of his head; his head… It’s… flat. 

Vox feels at his own face, fingers frantic and seeking a familiarity that he does not find. His own head is alien to him, thinner and flatter than he’s ever had it before. The TV Demon steps forward and peers into the reflective surface of one of the blacked-out screens before him, catching a foggy view of himself; a face he only half-recognises peers back at him, its expression alarmed. 

What the fuck is going on?!

Vox trudges through his memory in an attempt to figure out what he last recalls; after all, perhaps he got drunk and ended up… here, wherever this is, and he simply doesn’t remember… Yes. That’s the likely option, although he supposes that doesn’t account for the new face, so… 

Okay, okay. Stay calm. 

Something in the mass of strange technology in front of him bleeps some kind of alert, and Vox jumps; with wide eyes and a heaving chest, Vox looks around for the source. A notification, blinking on the smallest screen on the console table. New message. Vox lifts this device, peering at it; from what he can tell it seems to be some sort of small, handheld television. Disregarding this, Vox places the strange gadget back down, gingerly. 

This isn’t his home, after all; wherever he’s managed to get himself, he needs to get out, as fast as possible, before the owner shows up. Another screen amongst the larger ones has a wall of text; curious, Vox gives this a quick glance. 

Update was unable to install: reason, unknown

System was unable to restore from backup: reason, backup not created

System created custom backup made from uploaded / offloaded memories

Date of most recently uploaded memory: 1976

Memory backup install: complete

“What the…” Vox’s eyes dart quickly as he rescans this information repeatedly. “1976, but… But that’s now…”

A quick look at the bottom of the screen would happen to reveal information to quite the contrary; according to these devices, the year is actually almost fifty years later. 

“You gotta be fuckin’…” Vox’s words catch in his throat as a strange, disquieting feeling of nostalgia mixed with déjà vu washes over him like a cold dread. 

No. No. This can’t be happening; he has somehow time travelled? To the future? No; this can’t be possible - Vox assumes he is merely dreaming. 

When the Television Demon attempts to escape the strange labyrinth of a building he is in, he’s met with images of the bizarre new face he seems to have, plastered in every corner. Posters. Cut-outs. Advertisements of all kinds; it is overwhelming. Breathing heavily and feeling like he might be going insane, Vox looks for an exit in the bottom lobby of the building. A small, nervous-looking demon approaches him, its hands trembling around a thin, flat device. 

“Uhh, Mr Vox, sir?” The demon asks. “Can, I, uh, just get you to si-“

“What year is it?” Vox says to the demon, urgently. “And how the fuck do I get out of here?”

“What… uh, what year, is it, sir?” The demon asks, perplexed. 

“Ah, fuck it,” Vox says, distracted by a sudden glimpse of the way out. 

On the streets of Hell, the nightmare continues; the city is a pulsating, noisy blur of lights and neon and voices, so many voices, all chattering together. Sinners walk down the sidewalks, gazes glued to devices in their hands, despite the dappling rain drops that paint every surface. Vox careers around, unsure who to talk to or what to even say - what does one say, when they believe they’ve woken up in the body of their future self?

There’s only one demon Vox seeks, now; his oldest, truest friend. The one he knows will have the answers. 

His trustworthy, ever-reliable mentor; the Radio Demon. 

Alastor sits in the lounge of the Hazbin Hotel, a mug of coffee in his hand and a headache throbbing in his skull. The cohort of the hotel squawk together in delight over some ridiculous new something-or-other on Angel’s phone, and Alastor has had enough. Eye twitching, he focusses instead - for once - on the television set which has been left to run idly in the background. 

The Radio Demon would never normally give the confounded television any time of day, but something catches his eye - a report, an urgent report.

CEO of VoxTek Enterprises Missing For Several Days In Unusual Disappearance

Alastor’s eyes narrow as he takes this information on board; he lets it roll around in his mind like a weighty marble, occasionally bumping into spongy feelings. Amusement, at his rival’s misfortune. Indifference, at the consequences it poses. Satisfaction. Victory.

But there is curiosity, there, too; and something else. Something deeper. Something that sits embedded within Alastor, a left over remnant from all the decades he and Vox had been the closest of allies. 

Concern.

A part of him, even now, festers for Vox - worries about his whereabouts, at this revealing of his disappearance. Where in Hell is he? What is he doing? Is he plotting, or has he perished? Alastor does not know, and the lack of knowing bothers him so wholly that he cannot help but meddle. Without uttering a word, Alastor releases his shadow, commanding it as if it is a scent hound, given only one purpose; find Vox, and tell me where he is. Alastor’s shadow slips out, unseen by anyone, and is gone. Out the door. Out, into Hell; searching.

Vox has been in a state of deranged hiding for several days. The Hell he knows from his own time has warped and shifted, and is rendered unfamiliar and unforgiving to him, now. Having come to terms with his reality, somewhat - that he has been displaced in time, somehow - Vox had attempted to seek out Alastor in locations he knew would be likely haunts. 

He had even shown up to where he’d known Alastor - at least in his time - lived, a shoddy apartment in a dodgier end of the city. The hunt was fruitless; Alastor was nowhere to be seen. Desperately seeking the comforting face of his dearest friend but only finding his own face littered on every street corner billboard, Vox grew manic. Unused to the level of notoriety he clearly has in this reality - he cannot step a yard without some sinner approaching him, apparently - Vox sought out the one corner of the Pride Ring he knew would never change.

And so, Vox has been seeking refuge in the blissfully familiar and thankfully never-evolving Cannibal Town. A place he knows that Alastor himself regularly frequents, and yet… Vox hasn’t even had so much of a glimpse of the red-coated Radio Demon. 

With nowhere to go and no friendly strangers offering assistance, Vox is alone, and afraid. He feels pathetic. He sits in an alleyway, avoiding the hungry gazes of cannibals, clutching at himself, fighting back tears. Vox hates himself for feeling so weak, for sinking this low. The version of himself that had grinned so smugly back at him from posters and strange, glowing screens had looked so self-assured and confident. Is that who he is, in the future? Vox feels like he might be going mad. 

“Well, this is a sorry state of affairs, don’t you think?”

Vox’s flat head whips up; Alastor is there, before him, standing prim and proper as usual, staff clasped behind his back. Oh, what a sight for sore eyes he is - Vox is immediately cheered, a grateful grin spreading across his screen, his soul feeling lifted.

“Al!” Vox exclaims, rushing to stand. “Oh thank fuck, I’ve been looking all over for you, something fuckin’ insane is happen-“

Alastor steps backwards, repulsed, as Vox attempts to get closer. There is clear disdain and mistrust in his red eyes, and Vox feels a blade of confusion and hurt stab him somewhere.

“Al, it’s me,” Vox says, laughing nervously. “It’s me, Vox?”

“I know who you are,” Alastor says, slowly. “Well, I just came to see for myself if the rumours were true, that you’ve fallen to rock bottom, and here you are! Quite the show, old pal, now, I will be getting on my way-“

“No, Al,” Vox says, tone despairing. “Please, you gotta help me, something is… Look, I’ve been looking for you everywhere, okay? I went to your apartment, but someone else fucking lives there now, I don’t fuckin’-“

“Which apartment?” Alastor says, raising an eyebrow. Curious, despite himself. 

“The one in fuckin’ Dodge,” Vox says. 

“I haven’t lived there in decades,” Alastor huffs, unamused; he turns away.

“No! Look, Al, please,” Vox says, grabbing Alastor’s arm; Alastor’s furious eyes burn at the sight of Vox’s claws clutching him. “This is what I’m trying to tell you. Something has happened to me, I’m not the me you know, uhh, right now…”

Alastor is clearly affronted, vexed beyond comprehension; but he hesitates, and doesn’t flee. His pupils glide over Vox’s screen in frantic movement, seeking understanding. What has gotten IN to him? All he finds in Vox’s expression is sadness, fear and hope.

“Something has happened to me, Al,” Vox says, loosening his grip a little. “One moment I’m there, 1976, we’d just done the Edsharp job, right, remember that? Anyway, the next moment, I wake up, and I’m fucking here.” 

Laughing; Alastor is laughing. Vox is bewildered, heart sinking; Alastor brushes Vox’s hand off from his coat sleeve, then smooths the fabric down. After he is done letting out his stream of wry cackles, Alastor exhales out a mockingly contented sigh. 

“Very good, Vox, old pal!” Alastor says, brightly. “Deeply entertaining, I must say! I suppose you expect me to believe you have forgotten all that has passed between us? My, my, Vox! You should know better than any that I know a performance when I see one.”

“What?!” Vox breathes out, exasperated. “Al, no! I need you, I need your help right now, I have no fucking idea what’s going on. I mean, my fucking face is everywhere and it’s driving me crazy!”

“Well,” Alastor says, inspecting his claws. “We agree on one thing, at least.”

Something drips in the background of the alleyway; a leak in a water pipe, perhaps. Vox blinks, confounded and not understanding why his dearest friend isn’t listening to him - or even willing to look at him. 

“Look,” Vox says, trying to compose himself. “I know it sounds insane, Al, okay? But I’ve fuckin’… I’ve time travelled some how, and I dunno what the FUCK is going on. Like I said, the last thing I remember is being in 1976, doing the Edsharp job, with you, and then I woke up here in this body with this crazy thin head, and I couldn’t fuckin’ find you, and… Al! Please!”

Alastor is walking away, having heard enough; this is some ploy of Vox’s, clearly, he thinks. His bruised heart has no energy for it. It is a cruel joke, a game that Vox is tricking him with, and Alastor wants no part in it. 

“Alastor!” Vox cries out, desperate. “You said you’d never let me down! You said you’d always be there for me! Don’t you remember?”

Alastor stops, his blood feeling thin and cold in his veins; flashes of his own memories bully their way into his mind. Flashes of the friendship he’d once treasured; Vox, his old boxy head. Smiles. Drinks. Jobs. Dances. It’s all still there. 

“You’re the only one who can help me,” Vox says, sounding hopelessly dejected. “You gotta believe me, Al, please. I’m so fucking scared right now, I don’t know what the fuck to do. Please.”

Turning on his heel, Alastor isn’t sure what compels him to do so, but he decides to humour the moment. Alastor analyses the micro movements and changes in Vox’s expression, observing carefully, and he opts to test the waters for a reaction. 

“Can’t you speak to Velvette? Or Valentino, perhaps?” Alastor asks, the names tasting like bitter filth in his mouth. 

“Al,” Vox says, squinting in clear confusion. “Who the fuck are they? You just making up fucking names now, or what?”

It hits Alastor like a brick wall to the face; Vox is telling the truth. He truly doesn’t remember, and here is a version of Vox who still adores him, plucked straight from the past. It makes no sense, but then, things rarely do make sense, in Hell. Alastor’s intrigue overrides his suspicion, and so, he relents. 

“Fine,” Alastor says. “Come with me. I still keep a private dwelling, fairly close to here, actually. Come along, then.”

Around a dining room table, two Overlords sit; a stiff drink in hand for both, and an awkward silence drifting between them. Alastor is still on edge, guarded and tensely watching Vox with keen circumspection. Vox is exhausted, ragged-looking and slumping in his seat. His clothes are mussed and the creasing lines around his on-screen eyes seem to deepen with each moment that passes. 

The TV Demon looks up at Alastor then, and the shrewdly evident dislike in Alastor’s gaze tells Vox a story he does not want to accept. Something has happened between them, in the years he no longer remembers. 

“What went wrong?” Vox asks, suddenly. Alastor’s grin is unfaltering but his left ear flicks, twice. 

“That’s a rather big question,” Alastor muses, wry. “And not one I’m sure I am qualified to answer.”

“No, not everything,” Vox says, sighing. “But what happened… between us?”

Alastor lets out a short huffing sound, looking away; his grip around his whiskey glass tightens. His expression darkens, his frown evident in all but his smile. Alastor feels an internal conflict pulling at him, wondering how much he should say; his eyes flicker around the room as he contemplates. Vox observes this, worried. Eventually, Alastor lets out a long exhale, and shrugs.

“We fell out,” he says, simply. 

Vox is immediately distraught, his mouth opening and staying open in a slackened shape of clear upset. 

“You and me? We fell out?”

“Yes, that is what I said,” Alastor snaps, the topic clearly sore. “We don’t speak anymore, save for the odd spat over the airwaves.”

“Al, what?” Vox asks, sounding pained. “We don’t fuckin’ speak anymore? But you’re my best friend!”

Vox reaches out, his claws seeking Alastor; they rest on Alastor’s arm, and the Radio Demon flinches immediately, withdrawing his arm with a snarl, his whole body tensing. Alastor’s eyes blacken, his ears are flat against his head. There’s a crackle of screeching radio feedback. 

Alastor stands, feeling an ocean of thrashing emotions pulsing through him; it is too much for him to try and grapple with. The sight of Vox’s distress is making him feel unwell, which infuriates him, and the whole ordeal feels deeply unwanted. 

“I will allow you to stay here until your memories return,” Alastor says, speaking quickly. “Other than that, I wish to have nothing to do with you, do you understand?”

“Al, I-“

“Goodbye, Vox, old pal,” Alastor says, and then he is gone.

Despite this, Alastor does visit the apartment again. And again. And again. And again. 

The first time Alastor visits is caused by some wretched bit of gnawing curiosity that itches within his skull and will not leave him. It refuses to be satiated by simply sending his shadow out for reconnaissance; Alastor must see things for himself. 

When Alastor appears in the apartment at some early hour in the morning, Vox is asleep on the sofa. Inspecting the bedroom, Alastor can tell Vox has left the bed entirely untouched. Has he been avoiding it? As what, some gesture of politeness?

Alastor rolls his eyes, and readies to leave again; but then, something stops him. He stares at the television demon, sprawled and snoring on the sofa. Vox is too tall for it, really; his legs dangle over the edge and one of his hands drags on the floor. His screen is off, black as night, but Alastor can hear the sound of his soft breathing. 

The Radio Demon stares with brazen intensity. The thought of having a chance to converse with a version of Vox who still loves him is deeply tempting, Alastor has to admit; the Vox he knows now wants him dead. But this Vox - whatever has happened to him - doesn’t seem to recall any of that bitterness or hatred at all. Alastor finds himself feeling an odd sense of longing for his oldest friend. 

Ridiculous. 

Alastor leaves like a thief in the night, cursing his own pathetic sentimentality, and Vox is none the wiser.

The second visit, Alastor shows up to the apartment rationalising it to himself as a mistake - a misjudged bit of teleportation, or his shadow acting up, perhaps. Vox, reading in an armchair in the living room, hears a sound from the kitchen; slapping the book shut, he stands, wary, and approaches the kitchen doorway. Vox prepares himself for an intruder, but on seeing it’s just Alastor, he is delighted. 

“Al!”

Alastor tenses, immediately; to hear his own name said so joyfully in Vox’s voice is both a tonic and a dagger to his heart. His lip curls above his toothy grin, but Vox is undisturbed. 

“I’m so glad you came back, Al,” Vox says, grinning, his hands on his hips. “I’ve been wanting to-“

“I came purely to make sure you have all that you need, I assume you are not leaving here much,” Alastor says, haughtily. “Can’t let you starve now, can I? Although that would be rather amusing…”

“I can conjure stuff, I’m fine,” Vox says, his smile twitching upwards on one side. “Turns out future me has a lot more powers now, which is, uh, cool, I guess.”

Alastor rolls his eyes; Vox doesn’t let it discourage him.

“Wontcha sit with me for a bit?” He tries, screen beaming. “I wanna know more about what I’ve missed. Y’know. The years I didn’t see, or, whatever.”

Vox is left wanting, though; Alastor has reached about as much as he can tolerate, and disappears, without a word.

The third time Alastor appears in the apartment, Vox chooses not to make a big deal out of it. Instead, he simply stays where he’s sat, reading again; not his first choice of pastime, but Alastor doesn’t own a television and so there isn’t much else to do. Alastor stands, staring at Vox for a while, saying nothing. Eventually, Vox looks up from his page, frowning. 

“You just gonna stand there, or…?”

“What year did you say you last recall?” Alastor says, bluntly. 

“1976,” Vox says. “That’s the last thing I know. I know, uh… I know time has passed, Al, but I don’t have any memory of it, at all.”

“Hrmm,” Alastor vocalises, turning his staff in his hand. “I suspect something has gone faulty with your frivolous technology.”

“Uh, yeah, I guess.”

“Come here,” Alastor says. 

“What?”

“I said, come here.”

Standing, Vox paces over to Alastor, unsure as to where this is going. Alastor moves, too, closing the distance between them. Faces so near together that Vox can almost feel Alastor’s exhales, Alastor pinches at Vox’s screen with his claws, turning his head this way and that. Alastor is still tense, but he’s also really looking, his gaze washing over Vox with fixed intent. 

Vox’s pulse beats hotly in his veins, adrenaline flooding him; he is silent, stunned and frozen into place. Alastor’s eyes are all over him. 

“I see no injury on you,” Alastor says, and he removes his hand; his fingers flex, feeling burned by the touch. Not entirely unpleasantly. 

“No, uh. I’m not hurt, no,” Vox says, dazed. 

“That makes one of us, then,” Alastor mutters, looking privately forlorn, his gaze diverted. 

“Al,” Vox says, his tone gentle but pleading. “What happened? Between us, I mean? I can tell things aren’t like before, but… I fuckin’ hate that you can hardly even look at me.”

Vox reaches out a hand, meaning for it to come to Alastor’s cheek; before it can reach its goal, Alastor is gone. Lost to shadow. Vox stands alone once more. 

Fuck. 

The fourth visit of Alastor’s, Vox is prepared. Having magicked a bottle of rye - a brand he knows Alastor cannot refuse, his favourite - Vox has also dug through Alastor’s record collection to find the recordings he knows Alastor derives the most pleasure from. Knowing Alastor as well as he does, Vox manages to predict the timing of the next visit with impeccable accuracy; Alastor shows up, right on cue, one languid Sunday afternoon. 

Can he resist a glass of whiskey? No, he can’t; neither can he resist another two after, either. Soon the two demons are tipsy together, sat on the living room floor, jazz spilling out in warm, woody tones around them. 

As Vox had hoped, the truth comes out; the details of their conflict tumble out of Alastor like liquid poured from a bottle. How Vox had changed. How he had built his empire. How he had wanted Alastor to join him - had pushed it, hard, and had spoiled things. It’s a one-sided account, of course, tinged with Alastor’s bias and resentment and hurt; Vox feels guiltily to blame, anyhow. 

“Gee, I’m sorry, Al,” Vox says, staring at the glass in his hand. “Future me sounds like a fuckin’ asshole.”

“Mmmm,” Alastor hums, briefly raising his eyebrows in wry acknowledgement. “I’ll say.”

“Well, he’s not me, Al,” Vox tries, clearly inebriated. “I mean, he was, or, I will be… I mean, that guy, he’s not in me right now, or I mean, I guess he is-“

Alastor is laughing, and Vox’s world feels like it will continue to spin, finally; Alastor’s laughter is the most glorious sound he could hope to hear. Vox grins giddily like an idiot, overjoyed. 

“I forgot how entertaining you can be,” Alastor says, smirking. “Mmm. I suppose a part of me has… missed this, if I dig deep enough.”

There is truth in Alastor’s words, and this is evidenced by how frequent his visits to the apartment become; soon, Alastor is visiting every other evening. He stays for hours at a time, occasionally bringing things - old newspapers, ground coffee, cartons of cigarettes. 

Vox catches up on years of history as best he can through the newspapers, but he struggles to really comprehend it. It’s all too much; all he really wants to focus on is the comforting familiarity of Alastor. 

And, he does; they focus on each other, wholly now. Alastor lets his guard down somewhere around the eleventh visit. Each time Alastor materialises, Vox is ready for him with smiles and greetings. Alastor feels warmed by it; Vox’s adoring attention is addicting. They play cards, they listen to jazz, they talk. 

One evening, Alastor attempts to teach Vox how to play chess. Vox, frustrated at struggling to grasp it, ends the game early, groaning. By the nineteenth visit, they can play a full game together. Alastor always wins, of course, but Vox enjoys it anyway. Any time spent together is a gift to him, bored and cooped up in the apartment as he is. 

Eventually, Alastor speaks aloud what both demons know to be true; that Vox cannot hideout forever. Vox lets out a petulant moan, his mouth full; they are eating together at the dinner table, something delicious and divinely creamy that Alastor has made, all thinly sliced potatoes and copious butter. Alastor sips his glass of red wine and observes Vox carefully. 

“I know,” Vox says, begrudgingly. “But can we just, y’know. Not think about the future for now?”

“How very unlike you,” Alastor quips, smirking. “But fine by me. You can stay here for as long as you like. Let the rest of Hell panic over your absence, for all I care. What a ruckus they’ve made.”

“I’m not ready to face it, Al,” Vox shakes his head, prodding his food with his fork. “I don’t know this life that my future self has, I don’t know about any of the things you’ve told me he’s done or the demons he runs with. I don’t want any of it, I just want…”

“This?” Alastor offers, coyly. “Us?”

“…Yeah,” Vox breathes out, nodding. 

“Then you shall have it,” Alastor smiles, sincerely. “For as long as you want. Or, until your memories return, in which case I shall be very sorry to see you go.”

“Pfff,” Vox scoffs. “I won’t forget this, I won’t forget you, Al.”

“We shall see,” Alastor says, mostly to himself; he swirls the wine in his glass, and tries to ignore the strange sense of urgency building in his gut.

Several weeks pass. Vox is kept like a willing cockatiel in its cage; waiting, always, for Alastor to visit. And Alastor does visit, as often as he can. Excuses given to Charlie range from believable to the absurd - oh, I have some business to attend to! A lesser-known demon requires my help on the other end of town. Oh, I thought about going to get a new hairstyle!

No one in the Hazbin Hotel thinks to correlate Alastor’s strange behaviour and absences with the decreasingly reported-on disappearance of Vox, the CEO of VoxTek; truthfully, no one gives a shit what Alastor gets up to in his free time. No one bats an eye.

Alastor has been generous, too, supplying Vox with all kinds of pleasantries; clothes he might like to wear, new books to read, new records to listen to. A functioning radio. A well-stocked fridge. Vox isn’t sure if it’s a case of slight Stockholm syndrome, or what, but he finds himself not really minding being the Radio Demon’s secret pet. 

Vox is attempting to play a game of chess with himself when Alastor arrives; the sleeves of a soft sweater rolled up on his arms, and his tongue stuck out in concentration as he moves the pieces on the board. He’s been playing white, imagining the black side as Alastor, trying to predict how Alastor would play. The Radio Demon figures this out immediately when he glances over, and he grins wide. 

“I’d never make that move,” Alastor says, sitting down without hesitation to join Vox at the chess table. “You’ve done this all wrong, Vox, honestly. Do you really think I’d-“

“Hey,” Vox smiles, eyes soft. “How was your day?”

“Urgh,” Alastor sighs, running his hands through his hair. “Exhausting. More bonding activities, wouldn’t you know it. I grow weary of it, Vox, truly. Makes me want to go out and kill things.”

Vox laughs, resetting the chess board by placing the pieces back in their usual homes. Alastor slips off his coat, letting his shadow take it from him and hang it up. 

“Do you remember that loan shark mob, down at Ricky’s?” Vox asks, his smile mischievous. “You swallowed almost all of them whole. Remember that?”

“Oh! Yes, like it was yesterday,” Alastor nods, amused. 

“It kinda was, for me,” Vox deadpans, shrugging. “’75, that was. I’m surprised you remember it still.”

Alastor pauses; there is a real reason he remembers that particular occasion, but he does not voice it. Still, the memory echoes in his mind; how Vox hadn’t been able to shut up about it afterwards, exclaiming praises and admiration for Alastor, how in awe he’d been at such a display of power. Alastor has never forgotten that feeling. How it feels to be accepted, fully, even the ugliest, most monstrous parts of himself; something Vox always did. 

Later, before Alastor leaves, there is a moment. An important moment, one that weighs heavily on their minds for the next few days, after. As Alastor puts his coat back on, telling Vox about how he may not be able to visit for a little while, Vox stops Alastor with a hand on his arm. 

Freezing, Alastor looks up; Vox leans forward, and kisses Alastor. Quickly, chastely, just a peck - warm, buzzing screen meeting cool, dry lips. Vox isn’t sure what drives him to do it - beyond the fact he’s been in love with Alastor his entire fucking damnation, of course - and he regrets it immediately, dreading Alastor’s reaction. 

Vox pulls back, avoiding Alastor’s eyes. Alastor is reeling, wide eyed, his smile a faint, taut line; but he places his claws at the base of Vox’s screen, lifting, making Vox look at him. Vox’s expression is full of anguish. Alastor smiles, genuinely, and brushes his thumb over the base of Vox’s screen. 

“Give me a little time,” Alastor says, quietly. “I need to digest this. I will return.”

“Al, I’m so sor-“

“This isn’t a rejection,” Alastor says, kindly. “I just need to collect my thoughts on the matter. I’ll be back just as soon as I can be, alright?”

“O-okay,” Vox breathes out.

Alastor doesn’t visit again for a week. 

Vox feels like he might go mad; he paces the apartment, overthinking and worrying, wondering if perhaps it would be better if he regains his memories, so he can simply move on with his life. Alastor had said it wasn’t a rejection, but where is he now? Vox has been alone for days, left ruminating, trapped in this prison of his own choosing. 

Another evening with no sign of Alastor appears to be drawing to a close, and Vox readies for sleep, pulling off his sweater; but then there is a noise, and Vox knows Alastor has come. Breathing heavily, dressed only in his slacks, Vox pokes his head out of the bathroom doorway. 

Alastor is there, looking like a lost child, his pupils blown out and his hands wringing; he turns, and sees Vox, and their hearts connect silently. There is a palpable energy, and Alastor’s chest is heaving. 

“Alastor,” Vox starts, his voice a whisper. 

“Promise me,” Alastor says, his words ragged as he tries to still his breathing. “Promise me you won’t ever remember.”

Vox’s entire nervous system feels rigid with the tension of the moment; he swallows, a myriad of promises he could make swimming through his mind, none of them breaching the air. He lets out a shy laugh, not knowing what to say. Alastor walks over to him, slowly, looking like a startled animal; he eyes Vox’s bare chest. Vox’s deep blue skin is freckled with scars, some of which Alastor knows he will have no memory of gaining. 

“Al, you know I have no control over-“

“Promise me,” Alastor says, sounding desperate. “If you remember, it will all be spoiled, Vox. I can’t… I can’t… I don’t know why I want this, but I do, I do-“

Alastor’s words are halted as Vox rushes into him, pushing him against the wall, the heat of their bodies combining as they are pressed together, and then they are kissing, and it is the only thing either of them wants to feel, ever again. Moaning into each other’s mouths, hands grabbing and frantic, tongues colliding hungrily; the two demons hold each other, craving further and deeper closeness. When Vox pulls back, panting and breathless, Alastor lets out a needy sound of longing. 

“I l-love you, Al,” Vox breathes out, stroking at Alastor’s face. “I’ve loved you, for a really, really long fuckin’ time. And if this is a second chance, or, or-“

“I have fallen,” Alastor manages, gasping somewhat. “Also.”

“Wha-what?”

“I, too,” Alastor’s words shudder out of him; his voice is nought but a whisper. “I don’t understand it, but… I suppose a part of me always did, deep down, but, I…”

“You… You love me?” Vox says, hardly daring to believe it. 

“Yes,” Alastor says, his grip on Vox’s arms tightening. “And if this is to be a second chance, then I shan’t let it go to waste. I know what the other side of losing this looks like, and I won’t let it happen again.”

Vox laughs, his heart filling with exhilaration, and Alastor laughs with him, still breathless. They kiss, again; and it is the sweetest taste either of them has ever savoured. 

“I think me losing my memory might be the best thing that ever happened to me, huh?” Vox jokes, his whole body feeling flushed with love and joy. 

Neither demon knows what the future holds; how they will proceed, how Vox will live his life. Alastor has some ideas, but truly, neither of them care, in this moment. They have found each other again, against all the odds, and have truly found each other, deeply this time. The Radio Demon has finally fallen in love back, not even understanding how; but not all questions need answers. 

“Yes, Vox, old pal,” Alastor grins. “I think we happen to be in agreement, on this one.”

The faults of technology have saved them, and neither Vox nor Alastor could be any more grateful. Memories lost, a friendship restored, a love created. 

Perhaps, in the end, it was the best system update Vox has ever received. 

[bigkurosmash]

I rewatched The Boy the other day after seeing the sequel- we won't even speak of the sequel here- and there were so many details I completely forgot about in that movie and was delighted to see again. I'm such a sucker for the type of horror where it's gradually revealed things are not as they seem and then it's too late when you finally learn the truth, which is exactly the type of horror The Boy follows. An odd family with a doll child -> strange things happen around the house -> the doll is haunted -> it's not the doll at all.

Even background details reveal so much more that the plot doesn't have the time to fill in, like how the basement Brahms lives in is fully equipped with a bathroom and 'kitchen'- using the term loosely since it's pretty much just a fridge/microwave and some food storage space. This shows Brahms is actually quite independent based on these details alone, even if spoiled by his parents in a strange and twisted way while at the same time very neglected by them. Him making Greta a sandwich as a peace offering also shows that on some level he understands how to express 'care' even if that care is being used as a form of manipulation to appease Greta and convince her into following the rules. 'I'll be good' he says while also scaring this woman shitless all the while.

He threatens Greta that he'll kill Malcolm if she leaves, but even though she does run away, Brahms doesn't kill Malcolm. My guess, he was giving time for her to come back because he didn't think she would really leave Malcolm to die. When she returns, there are no verbal threats and no physical violence, and instead, she is the one giving orders. Brahms is startled by this but obedient. He doesn't want Greta to leave, he's an obsessive with Greta the object of his obsession, and doesn't want to be alone. He's blinded by his obsession that he doesn't consider Greta has ulterior motives until it's too late and she 'betrays' him.

Another detail is all of the hidden doorways and passages in the house; it's possible the hidden doors were added after the fire, but I'm leaning more toward that these doorways and passages were possibly utilized by staff that would've once been there long ago. The spaces between the walls are so wide that they were built that way with intention long before Brahms came around. However, I do believe the bathroom/kitchen in the basement were added later specifically for Brahms.

Mr. Heelshire's warning is also quite haunting but rings true; Be good to Brahms, and he'll be good to you. Follow the rules, and Brahms will behave- to his standards, the little thief- but break the rules and he'll cause mischief like cockblocking Greta and Malcolm. Or busting through the mirror like a hairy Kool-Aid Man when his doll was broken.

That was another thing- I had forgotten just how BIG Brahms is. I knew he was bigger than Greta, but watching him crawl out of the hole in the wall and seeing he's an entire head taller than Greta had me hollering. What in the world were the Heelshire's feeding him?? Anyhow, these are just some of my scattered thoughts from the rewatch since I've been on a Brahms kick lately.

[starimusprime]

im curious, considering the way you write oplita (which is beautiful btw if i could, id give ur fics a kissie on the forehead) how would you portray their relationship in a sequel to tf:1?? (hopefully we’ll get a sequel 😞😞)

OOOOOO THIS QUESTIONNNN

First of all thank you so much for your compliment! I love writing them so so much, they are utter perfection in my eyes and I will never find enough content focused on them.

Ok ok. REALISTICALLY, this is ONE idea of how I would personally write the progression of their friendship into a romance, keeping in mind that I've only got roughly 2 hours to do so alongside a bunch of other character arcs and the main plot.

TF ONE SPOILERS BELOW

I would spend some time in the beginning and sprinkled throughout the rest of the film exploring the aftermath of D-16's betrayal and Orion's rapid switch from dying by his best friend's hand to being revived as Optimus Prime. I imagine that such an abrupt change - and in the middle of dying a HORRIFIC DEATH - would leave Optimus with some (maybe temporary) mental and emotional issues to work through, with the reformatting of his frame on top of that.

In the beginning, Elita is a steadfast friend (as opposed to a fair weather friend) and helps him lead the Autobots in order to ease his mental load. Secretly (maybe she reveals this to Jazz) she keeps thinking about the fact that she would have jumped into the Well of AllSparks after Orion if B-127 hadn't stopped her. It bothers her until later on when some smaller event triggers her to realize that she loves Optimus as more than just a friend. She fears that if she tells him this too soon, she could overwhelm him or scare him off (since he's still dealing with the extreme trauma he recently endured), and this results in her subconsciously distancing herself from him.

Up to this point, Optimus might have been trying to assure Elita that he's fine and genuinely believing that he is. But now when he feels the effect of Elita being less present with him (maybe he has an emotional breakdown or smth and she isn't there like she usually is) he has the realization that not only is he not fine, but he cannot work through everything alone, and most importantly there is no one he would rather do this with than Elita.

Cue mutual pining, Elita doesn't want to overwhelm him with her feelings, Optimus doesn't want to make Elita feel pressured to reciprocate his feelings because he's the Prime, then insert climactic battle with the Decepticons or sabotage mission against the Quintessons or whatever here. Big things happen, and there it is. Optimus needs to make a decision. It could be emotionally taxing, or bring his trauma back to the surface, or what have you. But Elita is there, and she is his reason to push himself aside and fight, or make the decision he needs to make for the good of Cybertron.

After the climax, they both understand that life is too short and fate too unpredictable to postpone something as important confessing one's love for another. It wouldn't be the primary element of the end of the film, but they would have a moment, tense at first (maybe Elita disobeyed an order that got her injured in the battle and Optimus was mad at her for almost dying, but now he's just grateful that she's okay). Tension would give way to awkwardness or shyness as they talk quietly about something war-related, until finally one of them opens up, incapable of holding in their true feelings any longer. The other would be startled by the abrupt confession, but then it all makes sense.

Maybe they wouldn't kiss in that moment...but they definitely would in a post-credits scene!

[solar93-osc]

you are in the midst of the hotel oj party. "party", of course, is a loose word now.

in a regular situation, a party would've been perfect. a great way to fully de-stress after what the competition gave you. you have good friends now. you haven't talked to your former manipulator for at least a few days, and you think you're about to start healing. as much as you hate to say it, she ruined you, and you just can't forgive her, no matter how hard you try to fall back into the loop.

but all that hope has gone, and there are corpses laying around you. the final two have entered, been whisked away to a room upstairs and the last you saw them were leaving. earlier than that, you could've sworn you heard screams coming from there, but the music was so loud and party so lively you thought it was just someone loving the night.

you know a few things: the people dying all see and hear something nobody else does before they disappear, and you're pretty sure one of your closest friends just died to it too. she left the room for a moment and isn't responding to you.

you're shaken, and so is everybody else. fear hasn't racked you as much as now since you first met your l- former manipulator out in the woods. you didn't know what choice to make.

in fact, you are so out of it you don't snap back to reality until a touch on your shoulder startles you out of your reverie. looking back, you see it is one of your former hosts, and your mind doesn't register the oddly familiar bow-tie they're wearing.

they ask for you to remain calm, and follow them. nobody else seems to notice this happening. you don't blame them, everybody has lost someone already, but it is unsettling, how nobody seems to exist in this moment except you. you know you aren't dying solely because this isn't a terrifying image, and everyone who disappeared so far was screaming.

you nod silently, and begin to follow them towards the staircase. your other friend still hasn't come down. he said he was going to join the party soon - ages ago. you should've checked up on him as soon as the deaths began to happen. he could've died first and you didn't notice.

you reach the room you were most scared to reach, and your former host peeks through a crack in the slightly-open door, nodding as if to give a warning.

you step in, head lowered. the first thing you see is your friend's corpse, lying dead on the wooden floor of his own room. you realise the screams from earlier were his.

when your former host steps out of the way, they reveal the view of something else you never wanted to see in your life - your former manipulator, sat at the foot of your friends bed, eyes red-rimmed from crying, looking down and fiddling with her bow-tie like she was anxious for this.

you still don't know who's been killing people. for all you know it could've been her.

she begins to speak. "mic-"

you cut her off. this is not the time for apologies. "I can't trust you." you say.

there are words left unspoken.

i could've, you think. but not anymore. not now.

[almayver]

alma <3 i'm once again bursting into your ask box but your reblog on the tiny puppy phum ask made an idea bloom in me.

you said that puppy phum would also be attached to scents (fuck yes he would) especially fangs, and about him borrowing some clothes from his brother for comfort.

what if he still does it to this day? university student phum often steals some of his brother's big sweaters or even tasty cardigans when he needs a constant reminder of comfort around him.

thing is, once he meets peem and their back and forth starts, peem starts to notice that it isn't only phum's scent on him sometimes. there's another one mixed in there. he starts to recognize it as fang's once he gets to know phum's brother better.

it's an endearing little detail, the fact that fang shares his clothes with phum often enough. but once peem and phum start dating, there is this little nugget of insecurity and maybe even unreasonable jealousy because phum is still borrowing from fang, and has never really asked peem for his clothes

(this circles back to the ask about peem jealous that i sent you, it seems)

peem knows it is unreasonable, because fang is phum's brother, first of all, and a longer comfort in his life, a steadier one. but it still doesn't deter his feelings, you know? he doesn't comment about it, because he would never tell phum from where he should get his comfort.

but maybe he starts forgetting more sweaters and button-ups and jackets at phum's place. maybe he nuzzles along the collar of his own shirt sometimes, right in front of phum, to plant a non-verbal suggestion here and there.

the first time he comes to phum's and finds his boyfriend in one of peem's forgotten (not really) sweaters, peem starts purring in such an uncontrollable manner that he blushes from head to toe. phum is startled, a little confused but giggly anyway because peem tugs him and tucks him under his arm and gives him lazy, pleased little kisses and yea, he must have done something right. that's all he needs to know.

you got me rambling about clothes-sharing, alma

Cole, light of my life. YES. We should always be rambling about clothes-sharing actually. Although I fear it all comes back to omegaverse too

Imagine if Fang and Phum have a system or something to make sure Phum always has something that has Fang's smell. Something they developed since they were tiny and they keep now maybe more for force of habit than actual need but it's still a nice comfort.

Also always will love some jealous Peem of course. But I raise you something that I actually think happens in the book where the first times that he meets Fang he doesn't actually know that Phum and Fang are brothers. Cue the jealousy, and fully believing they are dating or something, but he doesn't want to feel like this because !!! Because he doesn't even like Phum as a friend why the fuck does that smell bother him so much, why would he care that he has a boyfriend that is so pretty and fancy and smart and not like Peem.

Of course once Tan reveals that Fang is his boyfriend Peem is like ???? And turns to Phum and he is just sitting there unbothered actually kind of smiling fondly and he turns to Peem and just does the confused puppy head turn. And Peem is like "wait you knew about them?" And Phum is like "duh yeah of course I know who my brother is dating"

"...your BROTHER?"

Phum, and Fang, will eventually tease him to death about it.

Also to make it sad for some reason what popped up in my head is that Phum doesn't ask for Peem's clothes or use them outside of the apartment because he is scared of seeming too clingy and needy, even though Peem's smell is what calms him the most

Or maybe he thinks that Peem wouldn't want people to notice that Phum is wearing Peem's clothes. Because insecurities and thinking he is not good enough you know?

I seriously love this hybrid au so much. Thanks for sharing it 🖤🖤

[tht0nesimp]

Yandere VK headcanons P1

The core four take over auradon! tw: kidnapping, obsessive behaviors, ddlg themes, the VKs taking over auradon, manipulation, abuse

im going through a fase leave me alone

Mal: Manipulative to the point where you don’t know yourself anymore, she convinces you that your evil, if you get second thoughts or if your a royal then she happily reminds you how terrible you are. Shes content with breaking you down and then building you up to her expectation, on the bright side, you wont even notice. And soon enough you'll be living whatever life Mal wants you to even if it never appealed to you before. She wont kidnap you because she doesn't have to, she can fit every piece of the puzzle in even if she has to replace some pieces; You wont have to worry about friends or family when she replaces them with the VKs.

Jay: He's a sadist in a playful way, holding things above your head, scaring you with fake(or real) bugs, he acts a lot like an older brother before he shows romantic interest. Eventually the mocking becomes a bit much, and maybe you even resent him but he doesn't mind all too much; the world goes on along with the bullying, until it becomes lesser and you find yourself missing the occasional comment. Soon you feel better about yourself, and it catches you off guard when Jay asks you out you know better than to say no to him so you accept with a shy smile, hoping he would reveal it was all a prank. But it doesn't happen, and the days roll on with more toxic traits of his showing, its much too late by the time coronation hits, and he decides his pretty little damsel is much too soft to deal with the hardships auradon will face. He wont lock you up in a tower, he makes sure he keeps you hidden away in some castle on campus, boredom will be your best friend as he grows more and more scared of your gentleness being exploited, but you get pretty much anything you ask for (except to see your old friends, he doesn't like them so neither should you).

Carlos: Hes a softer guy, you wont even know he likes you until the day of the coronation. You wont have a chance to reject him once its over, but hes a little hurt at your hesitation, when you end up in a castle with all the other VKs darlings then youll understand why he just has to do this! You wouldnt last a day on the isle let alone in the new version of auradon, in all the panic nobody notices when Carlos slinks off with you in his arms, dropping you in a limo filled with the other darlings who are all handcuffed or tied with ropes on their legs and arms. The VKs pile in the limo with Carlos dropping them all off at the dorms in Auradon Prep, all of them being in the same room with all the exits locked and with corners of the room dedicated to each, eventually everyone loses hope and settles down in their corners while eating the food left for them. Soon enough the VKs enter and let everyone know that they succeeded in their plan with their parents wreaking havoc on innocent heroes outside, the cheerfulness they have won’t match the sobbing or fighting of the rest of the room, Some darlings who were likely picked for their feistier nature like Jays darling will fight and scratch at him while screaming all manners of insults. Carlos approaches you slowly with a smile on his face as you huddle in the corner trembling like a leaf in a storm even when he tries not to startle you, he grabs your arm and brings you over to a comfortable dorm which he quickly leaves in fear of making you become aggressive, he’s just so happy to have you and he knows one day you’ll be happy to have him too

Evie: She probably tugs on your heartstrings, making sure you want her even more than she wants you. But you really didn’t expect her to kiss you under the bleachers the day of the coronation let alone ask you to be her date to it, and it surprises you even more when chaos breaks out and she comes looking for you?! She's even more gentle than carlos, believing you are her true love, made just for her to enjoy after all she went through on the isle but her patience isnt an endless virtue even after all those years of seeming to wait for a prince to take advantage of, and when her patience does run out, there is nothing you will be able to do to calm the storm

[missveryvery]

what are your most recent fengqing headcanons 🥺

actually insane that this is a question i can answer instead of going "most recent, why do you think I've made more".

I think of these as more like "theories" or "this would be so cute ;0;" rather than "headcanons" because I like many different types of interpretations of them!! Like some of my thoughts are like "if you read it like this, you can get to here"and some of it is like "i think this is literally what mxtx means here". And some is "HEAR ME OUT, WHAT IF X? WOULDN'T THAT BE SO CUTE?!"

I don't mention it much, but Iike them being sworn brothers, too, and loving each other in a familial way. Which I think is the canon way they feel about one another. Because the big reveal is "they are friends and go on little adventures together all the time!" and there are a couple examples that refers to the three of them obliquely as brothers. I think that's just as sweet and satisfying as them making out and getting married forever

-I do think if one of them dated someone, the other would go insane, like be extremely protective and climbing in through the window in the middle of the date.

FX would lose his mind if MQ was seeing someone! Very loudly give his opinion, fucking FORBID it if it's someone he doesn't approve of (mq: wtf do you mean you "forbid it"?!!), freaking out like "mq has never been in a relationship, he'll get his heart broken" and very like "ARE YOU SURE??!! MQ YOUR CULTIVATION?! ;0;". 50000% mom mode.

MQ would also lose his shit if FX was seeing someone. Also "No. I forbid it." (fq: what do you mean you "forbid it"?!) and threatening the person like "if you break his heart I'll kill you. If you want to break up with him, you come to me and we'll do it in the least painful way possible. sign this contract in blood." mad dogging the person like:

Both very "WHAT ARE YOUR INTENTIONS?!!" and doing background checks. Ready to throw down at a moments notice, both so in the other's business.

(i think xl would be very involved, too. he seems like he'd be chill but he has this zone of like 'actually, i care a lot and will not be chill about this' that I think this situation would fall into. like when he freaks out if QR says something mean to HC? I think he'd choke someone out for those two.)

-mu qing designed fu yao to be elegant and refined. but once he gets in the shell, he's incapable of not making the :3c face and looking like "fufufufu"

i've never seen a more bitchass expression on a chibi before. he looks so smarmy, such a little shit. He thinks he looks aloof and refined and doesn't realize Fu Yao looks like a gremlin and supremely punchable.

-all that bullshit i said on that post about how they act when scared. I'm thinking about them hugging onto each other tightly when startled/scared a lot. I feel like in the donghua, we MIGHT see that happen during the chase scene...!!! pray for me.

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Chapter 3! Chapter 3!

Ohhh, Stain's message is interesting! He didn't call out the League by name, but he did give a reminder to make sure your goals align! (I wonder if that was also a warning to Tomura? To make his mind up about what he wants, really wants, instead of what AfO wants of him?)

Are Dabi's senses heightened in his human form too? Like, not by a lot, but a little bit?

Dabi last chapter: "surely this won't become a habit" Dabi this chapter: "oops?"

It's interesting that Shigaraki has to help out the Doctor and from it sounds like, he does so regularly. You'd think that as AfO's student he'd be over the Doctor in rank but no, the Doctor orders him around just like AfO does.

Toga!!!!

Dabi wants to be allowed to go out while Shigaraki is away and Tomura thinks Onigiri wants to leave again. I kind of understand the assumption, since Dabi hasn't asked for the window since he came back, but ouch. He's so scared that he will loose Onigiri again.

Dabi finally has a home where someone pays him attention and wants him around and worries that he might leave. They are so, so sweet together.

Dabi is patrolling because he wants to keep Shigaraki safe. That's so cute. On another note, imagine you're a squatter and suddenly there's this pretty cat, which immediately turns into a very naked man and burns you to death. What a way to go.

Toga smiling at the cat, trying not to startle him, to reassure him, despite clearly panicking herself is so sweet. I like how you write her a lot.

Dabi immediately adopts her, because he is much more stable than in canon. He has a home, and someone who loves him, and he lived on the street for the while. He worries for her and they're both shapeshifters (though in a different way) and I really like their interaction here. Him being an absolute menace to get her to follow him is nice, too.

Dabi is such a menace. He's trying to butter Shigaraki up to the reveal that he brought a kid home. Also, Shigaraki isn't even mad. Dabi is weird, he has come to accept that. It's still very funny (and shows a lot of character development. He's really really calm in handling it, despite the scare in the morning and spending all day with the Doctor for the third day in a row. That's a lot of stress and he's not letting it out on everyone around him!)

The way they annoy each other is so cute.

Dabi and Shigaraki's disagreement over Stain will never not be funny. Like, seriously. Imagine fighting with your cat cause he's a fanboy. Still, Dabi would choose Shigaraki over Stain again and again if given the chance. Ah, Dabi is such a smug bastard.

Toga joins the gang! Shigaraki has now adopted/accepted into his villain organization: a cat and a teenager

Dabi and Toga have so much sibling energy. Dabi is so chaotic, too. Immediately steals the drugs, lol.

"His human. The only person he has ever even considered letting own him." Oh my God. Dabi trusts Shigaraki so much!! Like, not enough to reveal what he is because of some underlying issues with being told to always hide, but enough to stay! I honestly can't wait for when Dabi hangs around as a human and just, accidentally rubs his head against Shigaraki by force of habit.

I never thought about the fact that this would be problem for Toga but you're right, she constantly changes forms and when she can't go shopping as herself, trying things on would be difficult. It would be better with Twice, since he knows everyone's measurements, but still. Good that Shigaraki's clothes are big on her.

Toga, too, knows more aboit cats than Shigaraki does. Not enough to recognize his smartness as suspicious, even thought it is strange, but still. Dabi hasn't died yet and seems quite lively, so surely there won't be any problems.

Ah, Keiro. Who very much knows that becoming a service animal is a very long process. Surely nothing bad could happen here. Lol.

Toga has the most people skills out of all of them and it shows so, so much. Shigaraki, on the other hand, doesn't like to talk to strangers outside of small-talk or work. Especially not when he is in disguise.

I did not expect Keiro to have a crush on Shigaraki! Not that anything would come out of it. Now that he's an established villain, he can't have random hook-ups with civillians, not outside of neutral ground.

Okay, but Shigaraki looking up training programs for Toga is really sweet. She wants to see change and he decides to keep her, even when she has no training so far. Ah, I love this.

Dabi training as soon as Toga starts training too is actually pretty sweet too. He wants to be able to help them (and also kill his father).

Shigaraki is a good trainer now that he has learned what to look out for in other people. He keeps their needs in mind and tries to adjust around that. I don't think canon Shigaraki would have been able to do that at this point.

Him thinking Spinner is gray is another time where Dabi's cat-induced colour-blindness is fun.

Spinner! Nice to meet you! It's a bit earlier than when he joined in in canon, I think? And Stain isn't in prison. I'm glad to see him.

Lol, he send Toga and Spinner bonding. Another one moves in! And they don't live in the bar this time, either. Nice.

Ah yes, an important addition: no cat allergies. Giran knows better than to question it once he sees Dabi.

Team building! It's nice that Shigaraki has a human friend now. Magne! Ohhh, it's nice to see that they train with different combat styles. Shigaraki needs to be quick and Toga does too, but Spinner is more strength focused. All of them living next to each other is really nice too. Ah, I'm enjoying this.

(also, the fact that Shigaraki immediately likes Magne based on the fact that she likes Onigiri is sweet)

Oh my god, if Dabi were a regular cat he would have died a houndred times over. But they're bonding so much quicker than they did in canon! Shigaraki is calmer and, thanks to Dabi, puts more effort into team building and morale, which is really cool.

They're complete! Nice!

God I hate AfO. Good on Shigaraki for defending the League and getting them more time, but interrupting AfO must have taken a lot of guts for him. He really is growing as a person now that he has so many other people around who trust him and are there because of him, not because of AfO, just Shigaraki.

Seeing how much Shigaraki has developed when compared with canon, as well as how their every-day life goes is really nice! It's great to see all of them together, training and studying and doing their best to make a good team. They don't have Dabi yet, but they do have Onigiri. I hope that means they won't lose Magne this time around.

On a different note, don't think I didn't see Dabi's thoughts during training. He's smart, he can recognize if people are useful or good to keep around early on, he's smart and resourceful and he doesn't think of any of these things. Sure, he apreciates how smart the others are, but when they train, he only thinks of his own shortcomings. He thinks about how his quirk hurts him and that he isn't as strong or fast as the others and he puts himself down for it. For all that Dabi isn't as angry as he was in canon, for all that he cares more and has more to live for than revenge, he doesn't see how much he can do, how much he already does despite being a cat.

Both Dabi and Shigaraki have made progress, and they will continue to heal together. But for all that Dabi is learning to trust, he was never told that his smarts are something to be proud of. Endeavour wanted strength, so when Dabi is lacking that, it's what he focuses on. Shigaraki is calming down and getting more confident, but he's still dependant on AfO and while he no longer lashes out, the thought of disappointing him scares him.

Both of them are desperate to be good, to be enough, for the people around them.

Stain is definitely calling out Shig in that video alongside anyone else who thinks they want to do what he does

Dabi doesn't have any particularly heightened senses while he's a human, his two forms are pretty separate as far as abilities go, hence why he can't use his quirk as a cat

Shigaraki and Dabi being cute and domestic makes my heart explode and they're trying so hard to be the person (pet) they think the other deserves!!!!

Dabi sympathizing with and helping to guide Toga is so fun and sweet and they have sibling energy even when he's a cat! She also absolutely has the best social skills outside of Compress and is going to make these weirdos more tolerable to be around even if it kills them

Shigaraki is definitely looking at all the data and resources available to him and getting things put in order as efficiently as possible. He's not going to come up short again!

The whole gang gets here and gets to be happy for a little while!!

And Shig knows better now, he's seen his shortcomings, the failures his teacher said he could have as many of as he wanted and understands now those failures do still have consequences. He can't just rush into a job without being adequately prepared now. Not when Onigiri won't understand what happened to him if he doesn't come home.

They're both growing rapidly into being relatively mature adults because sometimes you just gotta be the person your friends believe you are

Thank you so much for commenting!!!

[aroacemisha]

Listen I'm trying to be supportive of RL Belos here, but if I was Evelyn and he tried to kill me I wouldn't be ten feet near that guy and I sure as hell wouldn't allow my children near him even if he was my BIL.

Did he try to kill her while she was pregnant? Did Caleb have to stop him? Did he ever apologise/make up for it? Because even though he's better in this au he still majorly annoys me like he does in canon and I cannot find it within myself to pity him much at all.

(Was gonna say this at the end, but I think it's kinda silly to follow an AU where a character you find annoying is one of the main characters and is thus heavily focused on. It's also a little rude to come and tell someone how much you dislike a character they really enjoy, it's better to keep that on your own blog. But I digress)

Anyways, I'd like to clarify some things here/give a more detailed timeline of the dynamic.

Evelyn has met Philip before. During her initial visits to the Human Realm, she (~18 years old) pretended to be human, and she befriended Caleb (17-18 years old) - and she was on friendly terms with Philip (13-14 years old) as well, although they weren't close. The relationship went on that way for a couple years, and over that time she started to visit more frequently (originally she started at once every few weeks).

When she finally revealed she was a witch, it was only to Caleb, and both were unaware that Philip was spying on them. Upon seeing her perform real magic, Philip didn't hate her at first, he was just scared. He didn't report either of them, and didn't tell either of them that he knew Evelyn's secret, but was becoming worried that she was dangerous to Caleb.

At one point Evelyn (~22) and Caleb (21-22) were found out and Caleb was about to go on trial, but Evelyn rescued him and they ran away to the Demon Realm. Philip (~18) later followed and found them a few months later, being convinced during his search that Caleb is in danger.

He tried to attack Evelyn in that initial encounter, and she was startled for a bit, before realizing that she can handle him if she just uses magic, since he's human and doesn't have magic of his own. That was also the only time he tried to attack her in that way.

After being calmed down by Caleb and, after a very long conversation, begrudgingly agreeing to give the Demon Realm a chance (for Caleb's sake), Philip remained hostile to Evelyn for a while, but that hostility was mostly bratty child behavior, feral cat behavior (growling, etc) and passive-aggressive prayers. She found some of it funny and once wondered if her beast keeping magic would work on him.

He'd get into some arguments with her, but wouldn't try to physically fight her, in part because he knew she'd just trap him in abomination slime, vines and/or stone if he tried. Caleb's presence was an additional mitigating/soothing factor.

She also figured that if Caleb could change his beliefs after coming from the same place, Philip likely could too, and if he isn't trying to murder or attack anyone, why not give him a chance.

She knew he was only hostile due to being indoctrinated as a child to believe that witches were evil, and only attacked her due to being convinced she was a danger to Caleb, so if that belief was to be dismantled, he would probably become friendly. And it did happen, and he gradually came to accept witchkind as a whole. Realizing his own queerness also contributed to his old beliefs falling apart.

The birth of Caleb and Evelyn's child also helped soften him. By the time the child started to say their first words and learned to call him uncle, it was really pulling on his heartstrings. At that point he was already on generally friendly terms with Evelyn and was allowed to hold the kid sometimes. He was already showing hints of his protective parental traits back then with how he treated the kid, although he would only become a parent himself many decades later.

And yeah, Philip apologized for everything at multiple points during his deradicalization. As for what he did to make up for it, given Evelyn's playful personality, she probably asked him to do something silly to entertain her as an apology. He'd also help her and Caleb fix stuff that broke in their house, and he was showing early signs of his interest in engineering, as he really liked fixing mechanical things.

They ultimately ended up becoming besties, and their personalities meshed well. They only drifted apart and eventually lost touch after Caleb's death, mainly through Philip drifting away, since he blamed himself for the accident in the mines and was particularly ashamed to be around the child.

Also the reason he continued trying to build the portal door even after he accepted the Isles wasn't because he wanted to go back (he felt safer and more accepted among witches), but because he wanted to spread the truth to other humans, and hoped he could change their minds too and end witch hunting, so no witch or human is harmed by them again (this later fed into his developing belief that the realms should be united). So he wanted to fix the systemic problem as well, although his expectations for how it would go and whether it would even work were too idealized.

[withinkandquill]

Little space separates them but Scarlet reaches across it anyway, claiming his hand in her good one.

"She's alright, Wolf," she assures him, running her thumb across the back of it, "and whatever happens when she wakes...we'll help her through it."

However, her assurances are met with a low hum from Jacin - involuntary but telling - as he skims the data, and Scarlet is too quick to turn his way. Her own brow furrows with renewed concern.

"Her temperature is high. Really high. It could just be a malfunction - this machine is definitely outdated and no one has maintained it in years, or it could be-"

"It always is."

Jacin meets her gaze, confusion in the set of his ice-blue eyes.

"It's part of what they did to her there. It fluctuates. It runs high."

Higher when she sleeps, higher when she's scared, higher when she's dreaming. Higher when she's healing?

Scarlet gives Wolf's hand a reassuring squeeze, speaking as much to him now as Jacin. "She's alright."

Jacin gives a singular nod. "Then it's time to wake her up."

———

Anya doesn't dream. She never does when they make her sleep. It should be a relief, a break from the nightmares that torment her, but it is far more terrifying this way. She knows from the moment that she begins to wake up that she did not choose this, that she is not safe.

She has yet to stir when her temperature soars, tiny flames burning away the gel that lingered on her skin and then flickering out again when they had nothing left to consume. Her heart lurches, eliciting frantic beeping from the machines still monitoring her vital signs. Someone steps forward, footsteps giving off a dull echo, and someone stops them. Silence, and then a hand on her face, cool against her burning cheek.

"Anya?"

Eyes squeeze and then flutter open, revealing bleary amber glowing with this surge of heat. It takes a moment for Anya's eyes to adjust; the lights above her seem blinding, but the gentle touch...a curtain of red hair...

"Momma?" Her voice is hoarse - barely a whisper breaking over the singular word. Her hand moves to rise. "Momma."

Then her gaze focuses. Then it dips. There is no tell-tale red hoodie to cover the evidence of what she had done. Only a black tank top, the strap pulled aside to keep pressure off the bandages below her collar bone, and a sling to keep the arm stabilized.

She remembers the gun. It was so heavy, almost too big to wrap her fingers around. Thalia was the only reason she held it steady. Thalia was the only reason she held it at all.

She pulled the trigger. She killed Momma.

No.

Momma's blood spilled from her forehead, crimson rivers trailing down her cheeks like tears. The shoulder was...Scarlet? She shot Scarlet?

She shot Scarlet.

With a horrified gasp, her limbs are spurred into movement. A small hand pushes Scarlet away as her skin heats enough to burn, her body twisting to scramble off the table Jacin had moved her to. Her legs give way beneath her as she lands, knees and palms hitting the ground too hard but if she feels the pain, it doesn't slow her frantic movements or silence the terrified cries. Amber eyes whip around the room, looking for exits, lingering on two strangers standing in front of the ladder. Another startled cry sounds.

She knows this place. She knows the place. And is so quick to scramble her way into the furthest corner, curling into herself, and though her eyes stay fixed on the people around her - both familiar and stranger alike - her fingers curl into her tangled hair and pull as hazy memories rush back into the forefront of her mind.

This place. A chase. A heavy hand on her arm, empty green eyes, the stench of burning flesh in her nostrils. Pain like she had never known before. That gun in her palm. Her own cries…

“No, no, no, no, no…”

...and then, the drugs in her veins. Her last sight was Wolf, the pain in his expression so frighteningly unfamiliar.

"What did you do?"

She could feel them now, all their hands on her. A million fingerprints marring her skin, altering her DNA, making her into something she's not. She already had the fire, already felt the density of her bones. She was already a monster. What more could they do to her? What more did they give her that she did not want?

Her hands fall, clawing at her skin as if she could uncover it, remove it, and make herself whole again. As if she could at least rid herself of all their phantom touches.

"I don't want it...I don't want it...I don't want it."

She had already killed Mommy. She had already hurt Scarlet. What more could they want from her? What more could they make her do?

Continued from x; @words-of-tomatoes

[ray-ray-writings]

drabble idea: after Wilbur is killed by Phil, Fundy finds a smol arctic fox hybrid reader and cuz they're both foxes and the hybrid child looks abandoned, he adopts them. Then Ghostbur shows up and Fundy doesn't want him to have anything to do with his child. maybe some other relationships for fluff??? i'm just craving this rn -💍

So imagines won right? I sit down and go to write the imagine, and I just end up staring at a blank screen for what felt like forever. I know I said I would give you the option but I honestly couldn’t put anything in my brain for it. And because I spent so long staring at it, I lost a lot of time and so this is the only post for tonight…. I feel so bad. I’m sorry guys, I should have more stuff tomorrow. <3

TW: Parental abandonment.

This idea is so cute though. 

So we all know that Wilbur wasn’t the best father. He really messed Fundy up and gave him some of those good good daddy issues to where he has a hard time trusting people. But I think that he would be out on a walk, clearing his mind, trying to think of anything but his father. He’d be in a snowy biome when he hears footsteps. At first he thinks it’s a mob of some kind, so he draws his weapon and creeps toward the sound. He catches sight of something white and at first he thinks it’s a skeleton, but then the thing moves again and he can very clearly see it’s an ear, a white fluffy ear… That’s odd. “Hello?” he finally decides to call out. There is a small squeak and a lot of rustling. When he wasn’t attacked, he figured it safe to move forward. He carefully approached and as he pushed some of the bushes out of the way to reveal a small child. In one quick glance he could tell this was no ordinary child. It was an arctic fox hybrid, the fluffy white ears and tail a dead give away. In his glance, he could also tell this child was in rough shape. Their clothes were tattered and torn allowing him to see just how skinny they were. His heart ached for the poor child, “Hello little one,” he greets softly, “What are you doing out here?” 

You’d been on your own for a really really long time now. Your parents had brought you out here, told you to stay put, and left. You listened and so you waited for them to come back. But as the days went on, you began to understand what had happened. But nevertheless, you sat there and waited. Munching on the berries of the bushes, but it never quite fills your stomach. One day as you’re moving from bush to bush, a voice calls out. It startles you and you can’t help but let out a squeak as you fall to the ground in surprise. The bushes shuffle a bit and from over the top you find an orange headed man peering at you curiously. His eyes scan you quickly before he speaks, “Hello little one,” his voice soft and comforting as he speaks, “What are you doing out here?” You give him a little shrug and allow yourself to look him up and down. You’re heart thuds a little faster as you notice that he is also a fox hybrid with orange and black ears, an orange and white tail, and sharp canines poking out from his lips. “Where are you parents?” he tries again. Again, you give a little shrug and figuring you can trust this man, you speak, “Gone… Let me here.” His heart breaks at your sad and defeated tone. “They left you here? All by yourself? When did they leave?” Another shrug, “Two… three….. Weeks.” you mumble, looking down to the berry bushes, your fingers grazing them carefully. Fundy’s heart burns in anger as he thinks about how horrible your parents were for leaving their obviously amazing child to die in the woods. He’s about to speak when your stomach grumbles loudly causing you to flush in embarrassment. “Hungry?” Fundy asks, then mentally smacks himself. Of course you’re hungry your stomach just rumbled. But you nod sheepishly, still plucking at the leaves. “How would you like to come home with me. I can fix you up some fish. I have lots of fish at my house. You could eat as much as you’d like and you could stay as long as you want.” Not even caring if this guy was lying to you, you accept his offer, simply desperate to get out of the woods. Your head slowly rises from the bushes as you stare at Fundy who is smiling at you ever so softly with an outstretched hand. Carefully you raise your own arm and gently rest your hand in his, shivering at the warmth that spreads throughout your palm. “Let’s get going then kiddo.” 

Fundy leads you out of the forest and towards his house. As you two walk, you two talk… Well he does a lot of the talking and you give small answers here and there. You tell him your name and he tells you his. He talks about where you’re going and how it’s extremely safe there and how he thinks you’ll like it. He leads you inside his house, sits you at the table, before making up some fish for you and him. He places the plate down in front of you and before he can sit to eat his own meal, yours is finished. To say he’s shocked is an understatement, but he quickly remembers you were out in the forest all alone for two to three weeks, maybe longer with nothing but berries. You’re looking at him super embarrassed, like you want to ask for more but are too scared too. “Hey, it’s okay,” he soothes, walking back over to you, setting his own plate down in front of you, picking up the empty one, “You don’t have to feel bad. Like I said, I have plenty of fish, eat as much as you like.” And so you do. You eat until you’re so full you can barely move. Your eyes are sleepily closing and then jerking back open as you try to force yourself to stay awake. Fundy notices this and laughs quietly to himself. Your eyes close for a little while, giving Fundy enough time to put his plan into action. He quickly stands up, moves to you, picks you up, and carries you to his bed. He carefully lays you down, tucks you in, and presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Sleep well darling,” he mumbles, not thinking much of it. “Thanks dad” you mumble back, clearly out of it. But the simple word stops Fundy’s heart before a huge smile grows on his face. He decides that he wants you to be his child, if you want. He can feel a connection and a strong desire to care and love for you and he wants to be that strong father figure that he himself did not have. The next morning when you wake up, you don’t remember what you said obviously. You also plan to leave and go back to the forest. You would thank Fundy for feeding you but you already feel you've overstayed your welcome. You make your way down to the kitchen, ready to tell the man who saved you, who you don’t want to leave, goodbye. Fundy is standing over the stove and at the sound of your footsteps his head turns and he grins brightly at you, “Hey kiddo! Have a seat! Eggs are almost done! I hope you like them scrambled!” Not wanting him to feel bad, you do as you’re told and decide to tell him after breakfast. True to his word, the eggs don’t take that much longer and soon he’s served you some eggs. You two eat together, talking a bit about how you both slept and stuff. And after you’re done, you’re just about to tell him but then he begins to tell you about his plans for the day and asks if you want to tag along and you do. You really do. It is then you decide that you’ll stay until Fundy asks you to leave, and if that means you’re staying forever… So be it. 

Okay on to some more general headcanons and less plot type stuff haha

You two help each other in grooming your ears and tails all the time. I feel like they can be hard to get perfectly clean by yourself so you two do it together as a bonding activity. You would do Fundy’s first because it takes less time. Fundy does a lot of it and you just get the hard to reach spots and stuff, and makes sure there is no spot left unclean. However, when it’s your turn, Fundy takes complete control. He will make you just sit there and let him groom and take care of you. He is so careful as he does it. He cleans your ears and your tail carefully, making sure no dirt is left. And then he takes the time to carefully brush out the hair and make it very soft and very fluffy. It feels so nice. I would imagine you didn’t have the nicest parents, they literally left you in a forest to die, so you never got this special treatment or attention for your ears or tail. So the first time you two did this, you would be so confused. You didn’t understand what was happening or why you were being treated so kindly, which broke Fundy’s heart. I feel that’s also partly why he doesn’t let you help because he wants to make sure that you know that you will be loved and cared for as long as he’s in your life. 

So that being said, you two are so affectionate with each other. Like you curl up together and cuddle on the couch all the time. It has a lot to do with the fox side of both of you. It feels really nice to be pressed against family of your own ‘breed’ so to speak. A lot of the time it’s a lot of you sitting on his lap or laying on top him while he holds you tightly. Again, he wants to make sure that you feel loved and wanted. 

I feel like it wouldn’t take you long to call him dad. Like you accidentally did the first night, but you weren’t really awake for it. But I do feel like it would be a slip of the tongue on your part again. Just he does something for you and you give a quick “thanks dad” before you dead stop and stare at him. His eyes are also wide and filling with tears. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to call you that. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. It just that you have taken care of me from the moment I got here and I--” Fundy would cut you off by pulling you into a tight hug. “It’s okay Y/N. It really is. It would be an honor if you called me your father” he tells you. Your heart soars in your chest as you hug him back. “Okay… Thank you dad.” You two go to sleep that night with the biggest smiles on your faces that you’ve ever had.

…….. Speaking of dads….. Ghostbur comes back. One day there is a knock on the door. You’re both confused because no one should be coming over to your knowledge. But Fundy gets up and he opens the door and his confusion turns into anger. “What are you doing here?” He spits out. You slowly make your way to the front room, hiding behind a wall but peeking your head around the corner to see what was happening. There in front of your father stood an extremely pale man in a yellow sweater and a red beanie. “Hello Fundy!” the man greets, oblivious to Fundy’s harsh tone, “I came to visit you! I wanted to see my son!” A gasp catches in your throat, this was your dad’s dad. He hadn’t told you much about him, he just told you that he used to be close with his father but as he grew more obsessed with politics, that bond broke bit by bit until it was completely severed by his death. “Well that sucks because I don’t want to see you. Go away now” Fundy snaps back, waving him off. Ghostbur catches his harsh tone now and a frown settles on his face, “Fundy please. I want to talk. I want to mend what was broken. You’re my son and-” “And nothing. You should have thought about that before you went and blew up our nation and then got stabbed by grandpa… So goodbye now.” Fundy moves out of the doorway and goes to close the door. When he moved out of the doorway though, he accidentally gives Ghostbur a direct line of sight of you peeking around the corner. He lets out a gasp and points, “Fundy who’s that.” Fundy looks over his shoulder and pales a little but because oh fuck. This is the last thing he wanted to happen. He clears his throat and looks back to the ghost of his father. “That’s Y/N… My kid” “I have a grandchild?” “No you don’t because you are no father of mine. Now if you’ll excuse me” and before Ghostbur can respond, Fundy has slammed the door closed. You’re a little worried as to what he’s going to say to you so you speak first after you walk all the way in, “I’m sorry” you whisper. “No, no, no baby. It’s okay. It’s not your fault. Don’t worry about it.” The rest of the day, Fundy is a little off. He tries to act normal but you can tell something is off. You don’t call him out on it though, you just let him do him. 

But yeah. Fundy does everything in his power to keep you away from Ghostbur. He does not care a single bit if Ghostbur isn’t Wilbur, they were both still his father that practically abandoned him and so therefore he will not be around his child. His child will only be surrounded by those who love them unconditionally and will always love them. If you and him are out and public and Ghostbur appears, Fundy will take you back home. He doesn’t care if what he is doing is super important, he will leave and take you home. He also will not let Ghostbur in his home. Ghostbur does show up occasionally, hoping to catch another glance of you, but Fundy barely opens the door to the point where Ghostbur can hardly see him. Fundy will let Phil, Techno, and Tommy see you occasionally which hurts Ghostbur a lot, but there is nothing he can do about it. Fundy does not want his ghost father to be anywhere near his child. 

But Fundy would be an amazing father. He knows what it’s like to be/feel abandoned by a parent and to feel ignored in a world full of family. So he makes sure you never feel like that. He loves you so much and makes sure you know that. Fundy would do anything for you, give anything for you. He loves you so much. His precious baby child. 

Okay that ending sucked lololol. Again, I’m very sorry that this is the only post tonight. I got a much later start than I planned and it fucked everything. I’ll see you guys with more content tomorrow though (hopefully).

[scarlet2007]

BTS reaction #1:- When they kidnapped you. Hyung line.

Warning:- Kidnapping, stalking, mental illness, hacking, yandere! bts, mafia, use of drug, guns.

Masterlist.

Seokjin/Jin.

You sighed as you walk towards Seokjin's room. Working at an asylum is hard and exhausting, especially if your working for the most wanted serial killer who also runs a mafia and does killing as his 'hobby'. You don't understand why they gave you his case, you have just started your carrier, maybe cause you are the only person willing to put up with his disturbing shit.

"Why are you looking as if you are sick, princesses?" Ah, there he is sitting on his chair calling you by the nickname he gave you in your first week of attending him.

"Cause I am sick, Jin," I looked at him, you still wonder how he has not murdered you. You were sure that you were digging your own grave but somehow the mafia leader takes a liking to you, which you don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing. Maybe he was a bit too touchy but he never really made you uncomfortable, just some innocent hugs and kisses, nothing much or nothing less. You don't have a problem with it as long as he was taking his medicines and therapy.

"Then you shouldn't be here, Princess, and I told you not to come here today why didn't you listened to my warning?" He came closer as you closed the door, he was towering you as he was taller than you and more build-up then you can ever get, it's not like you were a sporty person. You are a lazy potato.

"Jin, it's not the first time you told me that. All those time you warned me not to come at work, nothing happened. Now-" Before you can finish your sentence the emergency alarm went off, warning you that something was wrong.

"What the-? Jin, stay right here! I am going out to check what's going on." You were about to go outside when you heard gunshots coming from outside followed by screaming. Your body froze from the fear you were feeling, seems like someone broke in or a patient got there hands on a gun.

"I told you not to come here today, princess. Now you have to watch these all, my poor innocent baby." Jin walked towards you as you back away from him, maybe this is how you will die, at the hands of a mafia leader who do killing as his 'hobby'.

"Don't come near me, Kim Seokjin, or else I will hurt you." You said in a fake confident voice but your legs gave you out, they were shaking from terror. The gunshots continued outside, the screaming of terror and pain followed by it. Maybe, just maybe, you should have listened to him this time.

"Don't be scared, Princess. I will protect you, don't worry my men will not hurt you as they have given strict instructions to not to just you." He pulled your cowering self in his arms and kissed your head.

"Please...Jin- Let me go, please..." You begged helplessly as your tears began to ruin his shirt, not that he minds it. The door opened and a guy came with a gun, he looked at Seokjin and hand him a bolt, you can't see it because Seokjin pressed your head against his chest.

"Shhh, Princess. Go to sleep." Seokjin pressed a cloth, which you didn't even notice he had, to you mouth as you struggle before the drug kick in your system and you start to lose consciousness.

"Now you are all mine, Princess, all mine and only mine." That was the last thing you heard as your world went black.

Yoongi/Suga.

Yoongi was leaning against the alley wall as he was outside the club he owns as he was smoking, his right hand was bleeding since he just beat someone to death. He has dumped the body on a dumpster, which was were that bastard belongs. He heard some light footsteps but he didn't look up assuming that it was one of his men but when a bandage came in his view he looked up because his men know better than to offer him a bandage. He looked at the person offering him a bandage, he was surprised to see a girl, probably in her early 20s, wearing pyjamas smiling to him.

"Here, you are bleeding Mr." She offered him the bandage which he ignored.

"What are you doing here? This place is not for girls like you, go away before something happens." She made an offended face.

"What do you mean by 'Girls like me?' Just cause I am wearing a pyjamas doesn't mean you can judge me! Here take this bandage." She hands him the bandage but stopped as she eyed the cancer stick on his none injured hand.

"Huh, seems like I have to patch you up since your other hand is busy with that cancer stick." She sighed as she starts to take care of his hand. Yoongi looked at her face silently, wondering why is she not running away from him.

"All done!" She proudly said as she looks at Yoongi's hand. Yoongi looks at his hand, the bandage was done nicely, it even has a cute little bear character. Her phone chimed loudly, startling her.

"Oh? Yeah, yeah, I am coming! Stay where you are! Don't go anywhere!" She starts to walk to the main entrance of the club.

She looks back at Yoongi and yelled," Don't smoke, Mister! It's bad for your health! Take care of your wound, bye!"

Yoongi's eyes followed her as she helps a drunken girl who looks to be her friend into a car. As the car drove away, Yoongi realised that he didn't even get her name. He cursed and kick the wall angrily. Maybe, he will bump into her again.

The next time Yoongi meet you was at a cafe, you were getting a smoothie when Yoongi thanked you for that night.

He asked where did she get the bandage from and you answered by saying that you always carry a mini first aid kit in your car. By the end of the conversation, Yoongi gets to know her name, her number and her.

After that, both of them start to hang out more until Yoongi decided that its time to carry out the plan he has planned. He knows that the instant she finds out that he runs a mafia she is going to run away, which he wouldn't allow. That is why here she is, now drugged, laying on his bed in his mansion. He knows that what he is doing is insane and she is going to hate him for that but in the end, she has to love him again, she has to.

Hoseok/J-hope.

Hoseok first noticed you when you came with your best friend to his dance class, your best friend was looking after you as your mother was out of town.

You and your best friend entered the dance class, "Good evening, sir!" Your best friend exclaimed, making other students look at your way.

"Good evening! Oh? Whose that besides you?" Hoseok looks at you with curious eyes.

"This is my best friend, Y/N! I hope you don't mind her here since I have to look after her cause her mom is in another town."

"Oh, I thought she was your sister since both of you are wearing matching clothes and I don't mind her, why don't you join us, Y/N!"

"Sure, I guess." Those were the first word you said to him.

The dance session went smoothly, you were a born dancer, picking choreography quickly and even help some other students with some complicated moves.

All the things went smoothly until your mother came back to town since your best friend no longer needs to look after you, you stop coming with her to the dance classes.

Hoseok was disappointed to know that but at least he has your number.

From that day onward you and Hoseok start talking to each other every day, each day Hoseok obsession with you increased little by little.

Until one day, he kidnapped, it was not that difficult since you trust him enough to come to an abandoned place without telling anyone where you were going.

"Ohh, little one. I have dreamed of this day from day one, to have you in my arms, protected by me. Now no one can see you or steal you away from me, you are all mine and only mine.

Namjoon/RM.

All you ever wanted was a friend, was that too much to ask for? Well, it seems like it was since here you are hand and legs tied with a thick rope with a ducted tape on your mouth, preventing you from shouting for help.

You tried to make yourself as small as possible as the door opened, revealing you're so-called online best friend.

If only you never went on to message him in the first place, if only you stop talking to him after you told him that he got the wrong number. But you didn't, instead, you keep talking to him, ignoring all the red flags. You just wanted a friend but what you got? A hacker who used to stalk you through your webcam, who has now kidnapped you. You wouldn't be surprised if he turned out to be a psychopath- wait he already is since normal people don't kidnap people daily.

You could never agree to meet him at his house, you could at least told someone where you were going and with who you were meeting but you didn't since you knew that your parents will oppose the idea of you meeting a strange who you only know online.

"Aww, look at you, all curled up. It must be cold and lonely without me right?" No, it wasn't but now it's suffocating that you are here, you wanted to say that but you can't because of the tape and all you don't have a death wish, who knows what this psychopath can do to you if you angered him.

"Now that you are here, where you belong, why don't we get to know each other in person? Well, I know everything about you so it would be fair if you know everything about me too but let's not hurry since you are going to spend your whole life here. Aww, don't cry, I know that you are happy to hear it but don't cry, baby. It makes me feel like I have done something wrong."

Namjoon's reaction is a bit shorter than the other, sorry about that. This is my first ever reaction so please bear with me. I hope you guys like it!

[tsumusamu]

nice receive [miya atsumu x fem!reader]

genre: fluff and (once again, a sad attempt at) humor

word count: 3.8k

summary: eight months into your relationship, atsumu takes you to meet his family. things don't go as planned, but of course, everything ends up alright in the end anyway. alternatively, miya atsumu adores you and his family thinks it's easy to see why.

warnings: uhhh implied sexual content at the end but it is like barely there ok

commission for @ muppetz (it wont let me tag for some reason ugh) thank you so much for commissioning me!

a/n: this ended up being way longer than the word count requested but that’s no one’s fault but my own because i dont know when to shut the FUCK up anyways i hope this one shot is enjoyable lol

content under the cut!

You literally never thought that you would ever end up in this situation.

"C'mon babe, why the long face? Ya nervous or somethin'?"

"No." You purse your lips, huffily averting your gaze from your boyfriend's smirking face.

"Ya don't needa be like that." Atsumu drapes an arm across your shoulder, pecking your forehead as a sort of reassurance. "No one could ever hate this cute face, after all." He accentuates his words by squishing your cheeks, drawing out a yelp of protest from you.

"If you keep talking like this, you're gonna jinx it, you know." Your words come out softer and more hesitant than intended, and you startled even yourself at how utterly anxious you sound.

"Yer gonna be fine. Trust me, I wouldn’t take just any random girl to meet my folks, and they’re well aware of that." Atsumu ruffles your hair.

"I just... I hope they're not..." You pause for a moment, trying to find the right word. "...Disappointed?" You grimace when your boyfriend suddenly throws his head back in such voracious laughter, that you swear you saw a few hysterical tears.

"Are ya jokin'?" he all but wheezes. "Yer the libero for the national volleyball team, for God's sake. If anythin', I'd be the disappointment here."

"'Tsumu — " you start, but he interrupts you by pulling you in for a comforting hug.

"Don't worry yer pretty head anymore, got it?" he murmurs into your ear. "Yer wonderful, and I couldn't be luckier to have ya. My parents are gonna love ya. Honest."

A small smile tugs at your lips as you reach around his back to hug him back. "I hope so."

A year ago, if someone had told you that you would end up having Miya Atsumu introduce you to his family as his girlfriend, you would've laughed until your ass fell off and your stomach ached like no tomorrow.

You had been absolutely overjoyed when you were chosen for the women's national volleyball team, and you were so eager to start playing with your new teammates that you had decided to attend the national team's training camp without hesitation despite your recent knee injury at the time. However, you completely overlooked the fact that you would be working with the men's team as well, which would've been completely fine... if not for Miya Atsumu.

When you first met Atsumu, he was the cocky, annoying little shit of a setter for the Japanese men's national volleyball team, someone who you were stuck training with for the next two weeks.

You still remember the first words he ever spoke to you.

"The hell are ya doin' there, lil libero? If yer not gonna be able to save the easiest ones, then ya might as well sub out."

You also remember the first thought you had about him.

'Prick.'

And the first words you spoke to him.

"Can't you look at this — " You had gestured angrily to the knee brace supporting you. "And take a fucking hint, or what?"

He had sent some unapologetic, biting words right back at you and that marked the beginning of the time you have had the utmost pleasure of knowing Miya Atsumu. The two of you had bickered rather relentlessly (not too unlike literal children, despite the both of you being well into your twenties) throughout the rest of the camp, and by the end, for some unknown reason through some unknown method, he ended up with your number.

He started texting you constantly, and as much as you tried to convince your foolish self that he was just a nuisance, you found yourself responding to his messages like an idiot anyway. Throughout the next few months, you learned that Atsumu was far more than just his overly confident demeanor; he's genuinely kind-hearted, down-to-earth, and actually kinda hilarious. And eventually — neither of you quite knew how — the two of you were staring across a table at each other in a fancy restaurant as if daring the other to blink and lose an unspoken game, on a first date that neither of you thought would go as well as it did.

A little over eight months into your happy and committed relationship, Atsumu suggested that the two of you go to his hometown in Hyogo for a weekend to visit his family. You had immediately agreed with his idea, excited to meet his parents and twin brother in person, but now that he's leading you out of your shared hotel room to go do just that, your stomach's knotting uncomfortably.

Atsumu's been nothing but supportive and comforting ever since you started showing that you're nervous to meet his family. He was always happy to provide a never-ending flow of cheesy words and warm hugs, but you're genuinely afraid of embarrassing yourself. You want to impress his family and not have them see you as undeserving of their son, who you truly care for from the bottom of your heart. Atsumu is your first long-term boyfriend, and you would jump off your roof if you managed to mess anything up during the visit to his folks.

The taxi ride to Atsumu's childhood home doesn't do much to soothe your nerves either, with you fiddling with your fingers the entire way through while Atsumu makes small talk with the driver. As the cab pulls up to the address that your boyfriend had provided earlier, you instinctively clench your fists so hard that you think you might bleed.

A look of alarm crosses Atsumu's face as he notices that you're still just as anxious as you were when you left the hotel earlier. He thought that the ride to his parents' house would give you some time to cool down, but that had clearly not been the case. His eyebrows furrow in concern as he reaches over to grab one of your hands in his, giving you a comforting squeeze.

"Just breathe, darlin'." He runs his thumb over the shallow nail marks embedded in your skin. "If it means anything to ya, my mom's a huge fan of yers. For real. I didn't tell ya this before, but she's especially excited to meet ya. Keeps yappin' to me askin' how I pulled ya." You flush.

"R-Really?" you stammer, wide-eyed.

"Really. Who wouldn't be a fan yers?" Atsumu grins, pecking your nose. "See, ya got nothin' to be worried about. Just chill out and be yerself, 'kay?" You nod, some of the tension releasing from your shoulders as Atsumu leads you out of the cab, hand still clutching yours.

You're feeling a little better now, though your thoughts are still running through your head at the pace of a mile a minute as you watch Atsumu pay the taxi driver and thank him for the ride. Atsumu's mother is my fan? Your ears start to heat up. I hope I can somehow live up to her expectations of me…

“Ma! We’re here!” Atsumu shouts at the top of lungs approximately one second after simultaneously ringing the doorbell and obnoxiously pounding on the door.

“Comin’, comin’, ya brat!” A feminine, yet strong voice hollers in return. You freeze on the spot, your mind going blank once again. It’s happening. It’s finally happening.

The door aggressively swings open, revealing a middle-aged woman wearing a pink apron and carrying a wooden spatula in her hand. Her dark hair is pulled into a bun away from her face and her eyes, the same chocolate brown as Atsumu’s, are gleaming with annoyance. She briefly glares at Atsumu for his rowdy entrance before her gaze catches onto you, and her entire face lights up with excitement.

“(L/N) (Y/N)! It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

“M-Mrs. Miya,” you stammer out, trying your best to smile but you’re sure it looked more like a wince. “It’s good to m-meet you t-too.”

"Aw, hey now. What happened to my feisty girl? It's not like ya to be so lame.” Atsumu lays his forearm on your head, effectively using you as an armrest. You jerk away, scowling.

“Shut the hell up, asshat,” you snap without thinking. About half a second later, regret slams into your body like a truck. Oh, shit. I just called my boyfriend an asshat in front of his mother. You were about to run off into the streets in utter embarrassment if not for Mrs. Miya letting out a hearty laugh way too similar to her son’s and linking arms with you.

“No need to look so scared, dear. I don’t bite. And it’s good to see that yer willin’ to put this brat in his place.”

“Ma!” Atsumu whines, pouting petulantly.

“Yer really losin’ out with him though, y’know,” Mrs. Miya whispers to you as she leads you into the house by your arm. “I’ve got another son; Atsumu’s twin. Osamu’s quite well-behaved. If yer just likin’ the looks, he would be the better option.” You can tell she’s joking by the merry twinkle in her eyes, but instead of humoring her you end up shaking your head with a quiet chuckle.

“I think Atsumu’s perfectly good for me.” The two of you pause to watch Atsumu practically sprint into the kitchen, and a few moments later there’s an agitated yell as proof that he was on his way to annoy his brother. You smile. “He makes me really happy, Mrs. Miya. You raised him well.”

“Aren’t ya just the sweetest thing?” Mrs. Miya coos at you, pinching your left cheek. “And so pretty too. I swear ya could probably clobber my brat at volleyball as well. You and yer teammate… ah, Miss Amanai? The two of you always caught my eye while I watched yer matches. Make sure ya let her know.”

You blush a little and thank her, making a mental note to tell Kanoka that. She’d probably find it extremely amusing, especially since she was the one who had given Atsumu your number in the first place (which, as you had found out months later, was because he had practically groveled at her feet multiple times. Dumbass.)

“Come meet my husband, (Y/N).” Mrs. Miya leads you into the living room, where an older, balding man with rimmed glasses is quietly flipping through a book. He gives a start upon hearing your entrance, clearing his throat and sitting up straight.

“Ah, hello!” Mr. Miya greets you. “I’ve heard a lot about you! From both Atsumu and the missus.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Miya.” You nod once in a respectful manner.

“It’s about time that he settled down with a nice girl. Make sure ya keep him in line though, got it, missy?”

“Of course I w — “ you start, but Mrs. Miya is already dragging you towards the kitchen. You smile apologetically at Mr. Miya, and he just laughs and waves.

“Osamu’s makin’ dinner right now. He is such a hardworkin’ and dedicated boy. Both of them are, really,” she rambles. “But Osamu sure can cook a mean meal. He and his twin always used to fight over who’s the better cook. But I betcha Atsumu hasn’t touched the stove since he left for university years ago.”

You debate telling her that Atsumu had made quite a decent meal for the two of you just last week to celebrate your eight-month anniversary (which you hadn’t even known he remembered), but before you can formulate the right words in your head you’re suddenly shoved in the path of an unfamiliar man. Well, not really unfamiliar. He has the same face as the boyfriend who you see every day, after all.

Miya Osamu is (as expected) the literal carbon copy of Atsumu; same strong eyebrows, same hooded eyes, same angular jawline. The only thing that easily sets them apart is his black, ruffled mess of hair in stark contrast with your boyfriend’s bleached blonde.

Mrs. Miya pulls Atsumu away from the two of you, demanding that he help her with some mundane task, leaving you and Osamu by yourselves in the kitchen.

An easy smile graces his lips as he sticks out his hand. “Hey, I’m Osamu. Honored to finally meet the famous (L/N) (Y/N).” You smile back, gripping his hand firmly and shaking.

“And I’m honored to meet the famous ‘Samu.” At your words, Osamu bursts out laughing.

“Man, I don’t really let a lot of people call me that, y’know? But if yer gonna be part of the family, you could be an exception.”

“F-Family?” You pause, your sudden confidence dissipating as fast as it had come.

“Naw, no pressure. Just sayin’.” Osamu casually continues with his task of shaping onigiri. “I can tell he really likes ya.” You raise your eyebrows in curiosity without entirely meaning to. “I mean, we’re twins, it’s like a sixth sense. And also he never shuts up about ya when we text or call.”

“I hope you’re hearing all good things?” you quip jokingly.

“Oh, for sure. If I didn’t know who you were I’d think that he’s talkin’ about the reincarnation of a goddess with the way he talks.”

“Seriously?” You snort, and Osamu just laughs.

“So I’d like to ask ya the favor of continuin’ to take care of him. Guy’s just a huge ass baby. I can obviously see that yer good for him, though. He wouldn’t have stayed for so long if he wasn’t serious.”

The two of you briefly glance at Atsumu helping his mother set the table. They’re currently debating over whether Atsumu should go back to his natural hair color and “Stop makin’ yer hair look like fuckin’ straw!”

“He is a huge ass baby,” you start seriously, causing Osamu to smirk. “But he’s an honest and good person, so I’m not too bothered. I’ll take care of him, promise.”

“Thanks.” Osamu sighs, glancing rather fondly in his brother’s direction. “He’s an asshole, but at least he’s a redeemable asshole. I’m glad he’s finally got someone around to take care of him. Makes us all feel a little more relieved since he’s away from home.”

You suddenly feel warm inside.

Atsumu had been right; you truly didn’t have anything to be afraid of. The Miyas have been nothing but kind and welcoming so far, and they even seem to already have a positive opinion of you.

“Can ya help me carry these to the table?” Osamu holds out a plate of freshly-made onigiri.

“Ah, sure!” you accept hurriedly, taking the plate from him with careful hands. You take slow, calculated steps towards the dining room; the last thing you want is to accidentally drop any of the food.

Atsumu and his parents are already waiting in the dining room, and they all look up at you expectantly as you approach them with the onigiri plate in hand.

“Why, thank you, dear!” Mrs. Miya chirps. “Helpin’ Osamu out! How sweet of ya — “

She’s cut off as disaster strikes.

You trip on your last step to the table, causing a single onigiri to tumble off the plate and towards the floor. Your mouth drops open wide as you practically slam the plate down on the table and in practical slow-motion, watch the onigiri plummet down, down, down —

Then you dive.

You dive towards the floor, in the same manner as you do when you’re digging for a volleyball.

And you catch the rice ball in one hand, laying flat on your stomach. You have a moment of mental celebration; yes, you caught the onigiri! Then you realize that you look like a fucking idiot as you lay face down with one hand extended and clutching a rice ball like it’s your lifeline.

There’s a few seconds of agonizing silence.

You want the earth to swallow you whole.

There’s no way that you could ever show your face in front of Atsumu’s family or even Atsumu himself now; God you’ve never been more embarrassed in your life, and over an onigiri too —

“Nice receive!” Atsumu suddenly bellows, clapping his hands boisterously. “(L/N) does it again!”

His brother, who’s standing a few feet behind you with a platter of chicken skewers, pumps his free fist into the air and joins in with a “Hell yeah!”

Mr. Miya starts laughing the same loud Miya laugh that you’ve heard way too many times today, and his sons soon follow suit. Shame is still flooding your body, but now you’re realizing just how ridiculous the whole situation is and you resist the urge to smile at your own stupidity. As soon as Mrs. Miya recovers from her initial surprise, she comes to help you up, and you can tell that she’s doing her best not to laugh as well.

“Are ya okay, dear?” she briefly inspects you for any sign of injury.

“All good here, Mrs. Miya.” You smile, genuinely and comfortably, as Atsumu comes behind you to wrap his arms around you and peck your cheek, still chuckling with a small note of pride. “All good.”

-

“See?” Atsumu’s smug as hell as the two of you enter the hotel elevator on your way up to your room. Osamu had dropped you off so there would be no need for another cab. “I told ya that they’d fuckin’ love ya.”

“Why’re you rubbing in something like this?” You scoff, dodging when he tries to pull you into a crushing hug.

“Because I was right.” He smirks. You roll your eyes to heaven.

“Well, you can’t blame me for being nervous! I still can’t believe that none of them got upset at me for diving for a rice ball at the dinner table.” You groan, hiding your face in your hands.

“Nah, why the hell would they? It was cool. Yer cool, Miss National Team Libero.” He laughs, reaching for you again and this time you let him bring you close to him. “Besides, like I said before, who could ever resist yer pretty lil face?”

“You’re a hopeless asshole.” You sigh, and Atsumu of course just chuckles, his laughter vibrating against your ear as you press yourself into his chest.

“I’m yer hopeless asshole.” He pecks the top of your head. “C’mon, babe. It’s our floor.”

You hadn’t realized how tired you are until the two of you enter your hotel room and you see the large, inviting bed. You practically jump onto it, burying your face into a pillow. “Goodnight…” you mumble sleepily.

“Ya gotta go shower and brush yer teeth first, idiot.” A pillow smacks you in the side of the head, and you leap up with a cry of surprise. “Damn, don’t be so loud, sweetheart. It’s late, y’know. Don’t wanna get a noise complaint like last night.” You turn bright red at the reminder.

“Shut u-up,” you retort. “I told you that we shouldn’t have tried to do it on the balcony.”

“It was fun, though, y’know! An experience. And ya sounded like you were enjoyin’ it, anyway.” He chucks another pillow at you, and you yelp as it nails you in the face. “Now get yer cute ass over here, we’re gonna shower.”

“You can’t make me.” You stubbornly lay back down and close your eyes, and you had peace for all but ten seconds before Atsumu’s plucking you off the bed and settling you into his arms bridal-style. Your eyes shoot open in shock and you flail desperately. “Put me down!”

“No can do. I’m not sleepin’ next to yer stinky self tonight, darlin’.” Atsumu laughs as you scowl.

“The floor’s always open for you,” you snap.

“Aw, yer no fun.” He steals a kiss from you in the blink of an eye; the only evidence of there being contact at all is a tingling feeling on your lips. You feel your heart melt just a little more.

“Fine. After we shower, we go straight to bed. Got it?”

“ And brush our teeth. Yer mornin’ breath is bad enough.” He lets out quite an unpleasant squawk when you smack him lightly in the shoulder. “Alright, sorry, sorry.”

“Is this just your excuse to see me naked?” you tease him as he sets you down on the bathroom counter before immediately removing his shirt to reveal his muscled torso. He grins wolfishly at you and shrugs.

“And if it is?” Atsumu’s eyes are zeroed in on the small hickey he had left right below your collarbone last night, which is now visible thanks to the way your shirt had rumpled after he had practically manhandled you into the bathroom.

“Well, I won’t complain.” You follow his gaze down to your neck, before glancing back up to meet his eyes and raise an eyebrow at him. “If you’re going to make it worth my time.”

About an hour later, the two of you are lying in bed together, effectively tuckered out and finally ready to sleep. Atsumu’s strong arms are wrapped tightly around you like a protective cocoon as you snuggle your face against his chest. The slow, steady rhythm of his heartbeat rocks you towards dreamland, and all the worries from the past day are slipping away.

“Hey, ‘Tsumu,” you mumble against his chest. He grunts tiredly.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

There’s a small silence.

“...Thanks,” you finally say after a beat.

“Huh? For what?” he quips.

“For being patient with me today, even though I was so nervous. And for taking me to meet your family.” You crane your head to look up at him, contentment adorning your features. “I had a good time. I hope they don’t hate the idea of me coming around again sometime.”

Atsumu smiles that familiar smile, the smile filled with affection that others rarely get to see. His eyes are almost half-mooned with joy, his lips are curved up in genuine adoration, and his cheeks are flushed with color. You saw this smile for the first time when he set an incredibly low ball at training camp, earning the awe of everyone in the room, including yourself. Never did you think that you would ever have this expression of pure love aimed at you, nor did you think it would fill you with so much happiness every time you had the blessing of seeing it. He says nothing for a while, suddenly resorting to trailing kisses all over your face. You let him, closing your eyes peacefully as he showers you with his love, ending with one final peck to your nose.

“I'm sure they'd like to have you around again.”

And if Atsumu continues playing his cards right, he thinks there might be a possibility that in the next five or so years, you could truly become part of the family with a glittering ring on your finger.

Only time will tell if that possibility will ever come to fruition, but as you tilt your head up to give him one last kiss on the lips and whisper those three words to him, he knows for sure that he wants to continue building towards that future with you.

“I love you too.” He lets his eyes fall shut as well, before resting his chin atop your head and savoring the warmth of your body against his.

Only time will tell.

-

tip jar + commission info

general taglist (italics for people i could not tag):  @aomineavenue @intheawks​ @deltahemm​ @bap-kingdom @shegoeshexing @brinnnx @crescentsteel​ @ dokidokisama @smellssharpies​ @dearhajime​ @plutoxxxworld​ @kritiiiii​ @ muppetz @ iscreamtea @rizzyrisso​ @makeitrainonsomehoes​ @maraudusk​ @kybabi​ @tsumue​ @thischickwritessometimes​ @angrylittleriri​

[tsui-no-sora]

Hello hi how are you :))

I've been meaning to send this for a while but I'm too busy so you can take your time answering because oof.

Anyway I've been thinking about cDream who's been blind. All the time. From the begging and during the manhunts. Maybe he has a horrible scar across his face and that's why he has the mask, or maybe he just doesnt want people to see or know. But yea.

I've been thinking about him a lot I have a lot of ideas I'm buzzing like a microwave.

Also the fucking face reveal is happening and I'm still somehow alive so that's something

I got this exactly the day my teacher is checking notebooks so I literally don't have anything to do this whole hour so Hi Hey I'm well how are you I missed talking to you about this concepts is really so much fun

I been so busy as well but we are both surviving it and that's what matters

And dude we are officially in the final line before our lives Dream's and all of his friends too change forever you know how insane that is after two years that I been on this fandom we are finally gonna get to see them meet you don't know how excited I am as well for their friends to finally get to see him as well dream sounded so happy already and I bet he's only gonna be happier now :)))

Ohh c!Dream who doesn't lose his eyesight during the prison c!Dream who's simply blind I really love that headcanon

I like to think he would have a scar in his face post Techno Duel I can picture c!Techno seeing his mask break and Dream's eyes and just thinking well the more you know before striking him down

But before that he just doesn't wanna show it so much but in the smp where he feels safe and relaxed with all of his dfiends who already know who he is

He would take his mask off from time to time and just exist like that, he would also steak George's goggles all the time and hid them from him. I can picture him taking Sapnap's bandana and tying it around his eyes just to make a silly joke.

I can also picture him being so anxious because he doesn't see but he can hear he can sense things around him, and just listening in as there's random noises he doesn't know where they are coming from inside the prison.

Or being super alarmed when Ponk and Bad took CPK to visit Pandora's.

Plus Techno having to knock multiple times in the glass because Dream can't see him and he can hear the lava moving but he doesn't know who's coming up from behind it and honestly he can't tell when things are actually making noise around him and when he's starting to picture things that aren't there (BTW I'm still insane about the implication that Sam drugging him during prison to make him confess things was a possibility)

Quackity making it a sort of game trying to be as quiet as possible to keep Dream trying to guess where the strike is coming from and Dream can always guess but he can tell Quackity likes it more when he pretends to not get it, and he needs to do everything he can to keep him entertained to keep him coming here everyday because if he doesn't if Quackity gets bored if he deems him unworthy he's going to kill him.

Also him being so so scared when he enters the fake cell that Quackity and Sam put together outside for him, because it's wrong and he can't tell how or why but something is happening and all of a sudden hes caught again and was he even ever free then

I also imagine him completely lashing out at Wilbur afterwards when he sneaks behind him and whispers on his ear and then reprimanding himself for not listening in properly and almost dying again

The new people don't know that Dream is blind Punz does know and he makes sure to never startle him

Quackity only finds out he's blind after his first vivist when he breaks Dream's mask

I also like to think about blind c!Ranboo and c!Dream the concept makes me happy also blind c!Dream who trails his hands on c!Tubbo's face and scars to memorize them during his presidency to show he does want to meet him he does want to be friends the fact that it also aligns with his Plan does help tho.