#stinky x reader

[readbyred]

I've read that some characters from the moomins like Snufkin, little my and their mother and their sisters are not really humans. So how would Snufkin, Moonin and the other characters react when they meet s/o who is a girl human that one day appeared in moonmin Valley?

You added other characters and I will absolutely use it to push more Sniff content on you! Also yeah. Considering moomins are canonically REALLY damn tiny, the humanoid looking characters would be like fairies or sth. But I will make them human sized bc I think it's easier to write (if you want more accuracy, sent me a message and I'll do one more)

Snufkin is pretty unfazed compared to others. He’s been travelling enough to have come across humans at some point. Pretty surprised to find out that his upbringing is something so strange (I mean, im pretty sure he was allowed to wander around before he would be considered old enough to do so by human standards). Sometimes, when he’s feeling a bit silly he makes stuff up about his kind to trick you. Says it in the most chill voice too so the only way to fact check him is to ask his half-sister. Little My calls him out every time just to be a menace, in true older sister fashion

And when it comes to Little My, she treats you like one of the group regardless. But that doesn't mean she’s not going to complain about your long human legs and so on. Will absolutely use you to get the things she wants off of high shelves. And will laugh if you bang your head on something. I mean, the creatures you come across come in different sizes so it’s not uncommon to find homes and structured built for them. But it's sweet sometimes too (as sweet as she can be) when she calls you her human. And maybe, sometimes (since having humans around isn't something most residents are used to) she’ll drag you around to some events with the neighbors to see their reaction (and maybe to brag about her gf, but she won't tell you that-)

On the other hand Snorkmaiden is so curious! Asks you about human culture and fashion. Sometimes the others joke that she’s turning into her brother. Begs you to take her to a human village, though that would either require crazy high stealth or some magic. Since you just showed up in the Moominvalley, she’s very open to show you all the kinds of wonders that were ordinary to her before. Being with you made her see them as more special, she loves that part of your relationship a lot. Plus, if you compliment her ability to change colour (not sure if that's a part of the show, but she can do that in the books) she’ll flush and turn all colours of the rainbow

Okay, Sniff is a funny one because this guy’s afraid of so much but also wants to seem so brave and cool in front of you. Of course, he insists that he was totally not terrified when you two first met. And he thinks being human makes you kind of special (I mean, in Moominvalley it actually does) so he’ll always emphasize that he’s your favourite. Yeah, that's right guys, he has a human girlfriend and she likes him best. Right? You do like him best, yes? Overall, he’s pretty silly and will exaggerate everyday things just to see the shine of wonder in your eyes (and because he feels like he has to give you something special so you stay with him). Still terrified that you just found your way into the valley though, what if bad humans come too 😰😰

Moomin is a lot more carefree about the idea. He’s so happy to be with you and show you around though he tends to forget that the things that might be ordinary to him are totally new to you. Obsessed with any type of human trinket you have on you. And if he could he’d stay up all night just to hear you talk about your life before coming to live with them. Honestly, he asks a lot of questions and some of them might be a little intrusive, but he doesn't get upset if you don't want to answer them. Oh, and he might have forgotten to mention the hibernation thing to you. Oops

As expected, Snork would ask a ton of questions. Ready to answer any you might have too, but be prepared for a lengthy rant every time you ask. Though to be fair, if he’s your significant other, then you might not find that too dreadful. He’s more of a theory guy though, so half the time when you all go on your adventures, you’re not much more prepared than when you first joined the group. Still, he truly does find your world interesting and will listen, no matter what you choose to tell him

And for the bonus character that nobody asked for - Stinky! To be fair, I think it would be funny for a normal human girl to appear in that magical world and just go like, yeah, I like this mean creature the best. I don't think he would be nice about you being a human, but that's kind of on brand. He would be interested in your human possessions and stories. Even if it's hard to tell that he’s genuinely interested. Later he would add to the stories you told him and scare other creatures with them. You’re free to join at any time if you wish to contribute to the chaos

[cvnt4him]

Clingy katsu?!

Of course he would never admit to it. He's so quick to call you clingy when you want him to wrap his arms around your shoulder when you walk in the halls or if you want him to hug you occasionally, but this mf never wants to acknowledge how much he clings to you without you asking. Sometimes he'll just walk up next to you in the halls and wrap his arms around your waist, if you're sitting and eating with friends he'll come and sit next to you and cut you or whoever is talking completely off and just start randomly saying shit to you. Don't even get me started on if you don't answer his texts and he finds you talking to someone else. He is gonna be fucking pissed.

"yeah.. It's just been a lot an— oh- "

“why the fuck didn't you answer my texts.”

“katsuki, what the hell??”

“...”

He gets so angry whenever he feels like you're blowing him off. He's petty sure but not petty enough to stay away from you. So to get back at you for not answering he ignores you, not saying a single word to you. He would have your face buried in his chest while he plays with your hair, just twirling loose strands around his finger because he's bored.

“katsu, do you want to talk about it?”

You're referring to the texts and why you didn't answer. His once relaxed and soft face now contorting into an angry look, his beautiful features being horribly taken over by rage. You pissed him off when you didn't answer and now you were going to suffer.

“katsu??”

“...”

“kats— are you seriously ignoring me.”

[wrote this around the time I was having katsu brainrot so erm. Yeah it's ass bc I was supposed to rewrite it but I want this funky shit out my drafts]

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

bakugou “ hurry up or i’m leaving your ass” but stays right where he is not moving a muscle until you’re finished packing your bag so he can walk you home and hold your hand katsuki

[sorrowfulrosebud]

Part two

Katsuki is absolutely riddled with cuteness aggression with his children when they’re born. He just… can’t stop looking at them. Every time his babies coo or look at him with your big eyes, he has to walk away and take a deep breath before he starts to cry.

He absolutely adored his babies when they’re newborns, no doubt about that. He just prefers the 1-2 year old stage where he can be playful and he knows his antics won’t always end in crying.

Katsuki loves blowing raspberry’s onto his baby’s cheeks, relishing in the soft, peach-fuzzed skin rippling underneath him. The deep belly laughs from his baby spur him on, making him blow raspberry’s onto his baby’s chubby neck rolls. He simultaneously cant stand the laughter because it makes his chest hurt in pure sweet pain, but he can’t stop because this tiny person adores him.

He enjoys play fighting his babies, making you play the villain as he dresses your baby in his costume, placing their fat little tummy on his large palm as he makes them soar. Drool goes everywhere as your baby chortles, gummy smile going bananas as they squeal and attack your face, mouthing your nose as you uncontrollably howl with laughter.

He loves playfully biting his baby, soft little nips that never go more than a few millimetres of force. He enjoys picking up his baby’s hand, pretending to gobble up the teeny digits. He only ever gently nips the tips of their fingers. Katsuki adores playing the big bad wolf to his child, gobbling their belly as he soaks in their giggles.

And when they’re older, he enjoys picking them up and slinging them over his shoulder. He often gets scolded by you, to be careful because he could make your kiddies sick. He only rolls his eyes playfully, pretending to eat his kids as they’re trapped in his burly arms.

[chuuyascumsock]

Bury Beneath this Filth they Call Skin and Turn it into a Garden || MINORS DNI

Summary: I made a hurt/comfort fic for Chuuya, I might as well make a comfort fic for Dazai too cause he’s my soft spot.

Tags: Dazai Osamu/Reader, GN reader, Angst, Comfort, No One Is Safe, Mentions Of Self Sabotaging, Self-deprecating Thoughts, Mentions Of Dehumanization, Mentions Of Suicide Attempt, Dazai Highkey Has Bad Hygiene Because I Know He Canonically Reeks Of Liquid Ass (I Still Love Him But Honey—), Brief Description Of Self Harm Scars, He Takes Off His Bandages, Non-Sexual Nudity For A Bit.

Dazai doesn’t remember when you started to keep an extra pair of clothes in your bottom drawer just for him.

He doesn’t remember when you bought an extra toothbrush for him either, the item sitting in a small cup on your bathroom counter so intimately close to yours. He doesn’t remember when you started to stock your cabinets with canned crab or an occasional snack he had stolen from you before and said it tasted good. He doesn’t remember when you began preparing meals big enough for two. And he doesn’t remember when you started to look at him the way you do.

Those eyes that so fondly trace over every inch of his frame like he’s capable of being loved— like he’s not a silver-tongued beast of a man, his words filled with more teeth than his bite ever could. He doesn’t deserve it— he knows he doesn’t— so why does he find himself at your doorstep every time he fails his attempts in ending his miserable existence?

“You’re going to get sick if you keep this up,” You sigh out, stripping away Dazai’s soaked clothes until he’s shivering in his sopping wet bandages and boxers. “And you smell horrible every time…” Your nose slightly scrunches at the lingering smell of hydrogen sulfide and mucky water from the Yokohama canal.

“Whatever do you mean, dear? That’s just my natural musk,” Dazai gives a lopsided grin, attempting to lighten the mood. His grin falls into an uneasy look when he notices the brief side eye you give him as you toss his clothes into the washer.

“My water bills spike every month you do this, you know,” You point out blamelessly.

“Sorry,” Dazai mumbles with a weak smile. He always made a promise to try his hardest not to inconvenience anyone while making his attempts— making it up to those who he had done so with such as Atsushi. But he’s burdened you countless times, not realizing until now. Before he mentally promises himself to never return to you like a pathetic, mangy stray dog— you come into his view again.

“Don’t be sorry, but please come to me when you feel the urge to do these things, ‘Samu. I worry about you.” And Dazai can’t help but to immediately let his previous thoughts fly away. Who was he kidding? He’d never be able to stay away from you.

Your hands carefully reach to begin unwrapping the bandages sliding off Dazai’s body. Flinching, Dazai subconsciously moves a hand to stop you from taking his bandages off. There’s a momentary standstill between both of your movements as you look into his eyes with a reassuring gaze before his hand relaxes and falls to his side. It’s not the first time this has happened, but Dazai doesn’t think he’d ever get used to the feeling of having his protective cloth shed to reveal the myriad of scars that are engraved on this once blank canvas that humans call skin.

And when all is removed, you still look at him as you always had with an unwavering fondness that leaves him subconsciously leaning into you, yearning to be swallowed and drowned in your gentle affections. He doesn’t understand why you do the things that you do, such as loving him no matter how many times he tells you how much he doesn’t need you because it’s always been like that— lonely— or why you even put up with any of his shit for that matter. But you do. And he thinks he’ll never know why, because he’s terrible and doesn’t deserve what you do in return to his horrid behavior.

He slips into the tub without needing guidance, face tilting up to look at you without his usual charming grin, expression replaced with a quiet pleading, begging for any sliver of attention you can offer. And you give into his pleads, sitting by the tub while running a hand through his dark tangled hair before reaching for a washcloth to bathe him. There’s a lack of cheeky comments and flirting from Dazai as you rinse away the grime sticking to his tainted skin, his eyes flickering from distant to focused in a matter of minutes before glancing back over to you and melting further into your reverent touch.

Even after exiting the tub, he says nothing, allowing you to wrap a towel around his shoulders and place a tender kiss to his forehead. If this had been any other day, he would’ve teased you to no end about how you had to stand on your toes just to reach his face, but he merely softly smiles in mild amusement and lets you lead him into your room to get dressed.

He wears the extra pair of clothes you keep for him at the bottom of your drawer, shirt loosely hanging off his shoulders and pajama pants dragging along the floor each time he takes a step forward to follow you to your bed. He was used to sleeping on his futon, but he much preferred your bed and the comfort your body brought when he tangled his limbs in yours.

You don’t scold him either when he buries his face into your neck like you used to the first few times he had done so— complaining about his hot breath on your neck. Now, you reach a hand back to scratch your fingers through his damp hair in an affectionate manner, sighing out softly in what he can tell is contentment.

Even as Dazai drifts off, he can’t help but think about the irony of hating dogs as much as he does, yet he can’t help but love you like one.

[ervotica]

this smut is all well and good but i fear i want patrick in domestic ways.

him waking you slowly from a nap with a warm palm that slides the length of your neck, a thumb that drags slow lines below your ear. kisses to the corner of your mouth. lazy days where you do nothing but watch movies and fuck each other to sleep - and then fuck each other awake again. him teaching you to play tennis and trying - and failing - to keep that fucking smirk off of his face as you pout and whine and stomp your feet, insistent that you suck. cheering you up with his chin digging into the soft dip of your neck as he mouths at the exposed skin. soft smiles. yelling as you bite his knuckles playfully. relentless teasing. big fights and the tearful reconciliations that follow.

and, yeah, really fucking good sex.

[dedfly]

He felt romantical

No thoughts head empty

[dr3amfyr-e]

ever protected by the frankincense fumes of her faith, alicent favors jasmine scented bath oil. from the lush gardens of the reach, floral is home — where she takes refuge. jasmine is less offensive and quieter then other florals, and she wears it like a sigil.

consequently, all of her children grown into the same scent pallet.

aegon doesn’t really care. the servants can put whatever oil into his bath that they chose, and he will not protest. jasmine just hasn’t left the warm water since he was a child, bathed in his mothers safety. it mixes with the syrupy sweet smell of grapes and spice, mulled wine, that drips from his tongue when he opens his mouth.

helaena likes the smell of jasmine, it makes her think of her mother — and when her mother was happy. it compliments the earthy scent that sticks to her skin from hours spent in the gardens looking for creatures in the dirt. petrichor and rosemary follow suit, dancing through the smooth strands of her silver hair.

of alicent’s children, aemond is the most fond of the floral scent. jasmine oil flows heartily into the water of his methodical bath. it gives him an obsessively clean scent, mixed with the heavy lye soap he scrubs his skin near raw with.

rhaenyra never favored overly ‘feminine’ scents. if she smelled like dragon and smoke, she was keen to lean into fragrances that covered that. cetalox and amber bear enough ambiguity to cover what she does. the frankincense smoke that sticks in her hair on the worst days revelas more than it covers — a yearning for something lost.

ever his mothers son, jacaerys follows in her amber scented footsteps. warm and heady, sweet spice and patchouli mark his presence. they blend well with the smokey scent he can’t quite scrub from his skin — too much time on dragon back. hair is cherished on dragonstone, and the lavender oil that soaks his curls every fortnight softens the intoxicating fragrance of his being.

cregan is ever bound to the north, the smell of pine trapped in his hair, and under his skin. warm and grounding, cedar wood and vetiver make his embrace even safer, crowing his thick furs with the smell of home.

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

viserys — lily, nettle, lavender

otto — oolong, jasmine, mugwort

alicent — frankincense, jasmine, rose

aegon — jasmine, black currant, honey

helaena — jasmine, petrichor, rosemary

aemond — jasmine, lye, leather

gwayne — patchouli, bergamot, satinwood

criston — frankincense, jasmine, allspice

rhaenyra — cetalox, amber, frankincense

jacaerys — amber, patchouli, lavender

lucerys — bergamot, sandalwood, pear

daemon — leather, pepperwood, ambretone

baela — palo santo, pamplewood, amber

rhaena — pamplewood, honeysuckle, blood orange

rhaenys — lemon grass, vetiver, hazelnut

corlys — sandalwood, ammophila, beech

laenor — green patchouli, vanilla, nootka

laena — vanilla, pear, pamplewood

addam — manuka, sandalwood, elderberry

alyn — ammophilia, manuka, sandalwood

cregan — pine, cedar wood, vetiver

alys — elderberry, clay, sage

larys — oakmoss, anise, chamomile

[nonranghaes]

seungcheol is a dog person.

and yet two years into your relationship and post-him moving in with you... he's fallen asleep on the couch with your cat curled up in his lap. seungcheol is a dog person, he tells himself. he still loves kkuma, who eventually grew to adore your cat after she grew used to him. he still loves seeing puppies when he takes her for walks. he always teases you about getting another dog to keep kkuma company--a puppy that'll grow to love the orange bastard you own (your words, not his).

and now he's woken up because the your cat is kneading at his stomach, slowly blinking at him before settling back in. he curls into himself, round like a big loaf of bread. kkuma is watching him from her bed. your stinky little man (again, your words, not cheol's) just dozes off without a care, nuzzling his head against him like he hasn't done the exact same shit to you while looking cheol dead in the eyes to say this is my person, not yours.

(yes, seungcheol did have a short, one-sided rivalry with your cat. he swears he knew what he was doing whenever he climbed in the way, demanding your attention during date nights. those days are long gone, sure, but he still adamantly swears that it wasn't so one-sided whenever you tease him about it.)

seungcheol is a dog person. but for you and your orange bread-loaf of a son... he'll make an exception. especially when he feels the accepting purr from your cat, happy to live in harmony with him.

[lovebeatriceplz]

My Larry Johnson headcanons 👻🎸

General and dating

- His room is a mess 24/7 but he's not a slob. It isn't like a health hazard but it's just never neat, something is always out of place.

- A huge sleepyhead, most of your dates are smoking sessions and taking really long naps together.

- He might appear scrawny to some but he can fight. He'd never start one, but blv he's going to defend himself or someone else. Not ruthless or brutal but he's got a nasty fist (he'll bite their ankles).

- Loves watching you get ready. Whether it's doing your make-up or your hair, or styling your clothes, he wants to watch.

- Once someone confused his eyebags with a smoky eyeliner look and asked him what brand. Now he watches tutorials on YouTube with Sal.

- Is a metalhead but is open and listens to all kinds of music, especially the ones that you recommend.

- He likes to experiment with kissing. Sometimes he kisses you like a royal and then he's inhaling your face😭.

- Can never go wrong with neck kisses though so he just goes for that most of the time. He also bites, but not like love bites more like a little Chihuahua, i digress.

- Has an old, beaten down pair of converse that he just refuses to toss out.

- Tells you everything, especially things about his dad. Sits up at night and talks to his father about you. When he can't do that, he'll talk about you with anyone that comes his way.

- Terrible at skating, popped his ass a couple of times.

- Is low-key down bad for you. Don't worry he's not a pervert, but he'll take any opportunity to get inside your pants.

- He's not a jealous person, like ever, for no circumstance.

- Has a nice singing voice but he prefers to play instruments instead, says he can feel the shit outta it more.

- Takes pictures of cats he see together and sends them to you, captioning it "us".

-Also takes pictures of you, you are 98% of his camera roll. He does it secretly as well, you could ask him "wait- when tf did you take this!?" And he'd just be like "🧍", i digress😭. Has a bunch of forehead pics.

- Supportive in anything that you do, not just you like anyone, his friends, his mom, anyone.

- Has no self - preservation and might self harm without realizing it's self harm. You have to stop him sometimes and help him to acknowledge his limits.

- Has really good hair genes. It grows back very fast, so when he impulsively cuts it (which happens often) it's back to normal in a good amount of weeks.

- First time he had s3x with you was... shocking?. Bro was hungry, not aggressive, just felt a little desperate. He didn't know he was touch starved until he met you.

- Thinks your drop dead gorgeous. Like he's mesmerized, and loves to just stare at you with those lazy eyes like your the best thing to ever happen to him.

[bunnyreaper]

johnny has noticed you've been growing distant, so he asks ghost to help him out.

(18+/mdni, dubcon/noncon, toxic behaviour, manipulation, infidelity)

johnny wasn't sure the first time he noticed it, but recently something had changed. where before you used to react to his smothering with clinginess of your own, lately, you've started to withdraw. you squirm free from his tight hugs, make excuses not to have sex, you don't tell him how you're feeling anymore.

he knows he's losing you, knows you're slipping right out of his grasp and he doesn't know what to do to stop it. at first he tried to hold on stronger--would make more excuses to be around you, but it never worked.

ghost is at his wits end watching johnny climb the walls--with his actions growing more reckless, his temper flaring up so easily. its ghost who offers his help, expecting johnny to invite him out for a pint and a chat.

what johnny asks floors him, what floors ghost more is that he accepts.

it was almost too easy, johnny knew all your usernames, knew the communities you liked to frequent. ghost just slipped into one like he'd been there the whole time, an anonymous face following you and sharing your interests. a few comments here, some likes there--and you were so nice, so willing to make friends. it was easy for ghost, or his fake persona, to work his way into your dms and your confidence.

late nights texting until the early hours, all while you slipped further and further away from johnny.

ghost coaxed so many things out of you, cute selfies, stories about your life, conversations about your boyfriend.

and that whole time, ghost was your shoulder to cry on, ever so slightly pushing your boundaries at johnny's request, while you desperately try to stay loyal. he was always there to listen when you and johnny had a fight over god knows what, and he was always so balanced, trying to get you to see your boyfriends side, trying to get you to concede how your boyfriend was doing these things because he just cared so much.

your new friend confused the fuck out of you. on one hand, they seemed interested in you, some comments that could be misinterpreted as flirting, and they always gave their undivided attention, and yet they always played at being johnny's advocate. maybe you wanted to read too much into it, maybe you wanted them to want you because you wanted them--the distance between you and johnny having become too much.

you tried to flirt back, tried to get to know the stranger more, and he always gave you just enough to keep you hooked, but not enough to make you cross any real lines. johnny seemed to have long given up on making things work, having withdrawn himself. when the guilt and the loneliness overcomes you, you wonder how you can rebuild things with him, how you can back to where you were, but it all seems so futile.

you missed the way you used to feel with him, how certain you felt of everything--but these days none of it made sense anymore.

the breakdown comes swiftly, you're gently and unknowingly coaxed to it by your online friend, while johnny waits to sweep in and pick up all the pieces. you find yourself crying and begging for your new friend to meet you, to give you just a bit of light in such a confusing time.

he gives you the name of a hotel, a time and date, and a glimmer of hope for the first time in a long time. you find yourself slipping into a nice dress, some makeup--putting in effort so your new friend doesn't think you're a mess. that's what you tell yourself.

you're a nervous wreck as you make your way to the room number he gave, the door ajar when you arrive, coaxing you to step inside. this is it, the moment of no return, where you step away from johnny and step toward him.

imagine your surprise when you step into the room to see ghost waiting there, sitting on the bed.

"fuck, simon?! don't tell johnny, please." you beg and plead, panic coursing through you.

ghost just smirks behind his mask, leans back casually.

"don't tell johnny what, bonnie?" you feel his sickening touch on your skin, the feeling of him slipping behind you, you smell his familiar cologne. "tell me that you were coming here to get fucked by somebody that isn't me?"

he snarls, hand wrapping around your neck as you try to explain yourself.

"well ghost, she came here to get fucked. what d'ya say we give my girl what she really wanted?"

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

cute lil reader, all pink and smiles, has scary dog privileges ( read: dog that probably has many diseases so no one wants to be near it ) because tomura, with all his darkness and ominous staring, is always right behind them like a shadow ... ppl wonder if they're being stalked, if they need help, until reader talks about how they finally got tomura to play a game other than fucking league of legends. and it's stardew valley, they together. reader does the farming and gifting while tomura does the mining and material collecting to pretend he's a big strong man to provide for them- they forage together. and as soon as reader even vaguely MENTIONS marrying one of the npcs, tomura goes "but WE'RE getting married in the game once i can get the stupid pendant think, so." as if he's actually threatened by pixels on a screen. he needs to be put down ( in my bed, so i can cuddle him )

i. am. in. love. with. this. badly. i need him.

i lub this s'much, weirdo loser tomura with a cutie reader ugh,, enough. league player and overwatch 2 hater tomura an' lil stardew valley walking sim loving animal crossing playing reader,,UGH.

and he loooves to scoff about the idea of playing those type of game at first. complaining about how boring they are until you get him to play. not like you need to convince him for long before he cracks lol he's a weakling. but it takes him a while to admit he actually enjoys those type of games. throwing a mini hc in here, i think he'd really enjoy what remains of edith finch :3

and you are so right about the marriage thing but he is for sure threatened by the pixels on the screen LMFAOOOO of course, he himself knows that's stupid because they're not real. and it's a bunch of one's and zeros inside a screen. that you're squealing about marrying...yeah okay no, he doesn't like that at all. you think just cus it's a video game you'll get away with betraying him, with cheating on him ?! hell no. so you best believe he'll get his hands on that damn pendant and make you his wife and shove that right up sebastian's ass.

also shigaraki for sure has those scary dog privileges except he actually looks less like a scary dog and more like a dog that would bite you and give you rabies for glancing in his direction. he's more of an enderman. scary enderman privileges.

[sorrowfulrosebud]

B- bu- bud... idk if requests are open but....

B- be- bear bakugou who loves climbing trees but hates the winter cold on his paws. So he starts climbing things in the house😔. Just you scolding him while he's sitting snug on top the bookshelf because he left claw marks and splintered the wood...

BAHAHAHA MUG I LOVE THIS

“Katsuki.”

“Fuck off.”

“Katsuki!”

“Fuck off!”

“Get down from there now!” You scolded your hybrid as he glowered at you from the top of the bookshelf.

“Fucking make me, human!” He sneered, claws digging deeper into the wood, splintering the precious heirloom.

“Katsuki please, you’re damaging the bookshelf!” You pleaded. Katsuki huffed whilst continuing to glower.

“No. I like it up here. Now piss off!” He demanded, leaning forward to get his point across. The bookshelf was beginning to tip slightly, causing you to worry.

“What happened to your other climbing equipment?! Why does my poor bookcase have to suffer?!” You whined, cringing at the groaning of the bookcase. Huffing, you look at your companion.

“Okay. What would it take for you to come down?” You tried from a different perspective. Katsuki stared at you.

“Salmon bowl. But, I eat it up here. Then I’ll come down,” he said, positioning himself to get comfortable.

“Oh god fucking damnit Suki, fine! I’ll make your damned fucking bowl of salmon and fucking rice,” you grumble under your breath, muttering about how you hate winter as much as he does. Katsuki triumphantly smirks before falling asleep to the sounds of you grunting in the kitchen.

“Oi, wake up you stinky brat,” you grumble, pinging the chopsticks against the bowl as Katsuki’s eyes cracked open. His mouth delved into an O shape as he yawned, pointy toofs on show.

He reminded you of a kitten; so sleepy in the winter and hibernating anywhere he can. He could barely keep his eyes open during winter, so you were surprised that he managed to even climb up the damn bookcase.

“Mmmm, don’ wanna wake uuuuuuup,” he sleepily mumbled, getting comfy again.

“Oh no you little bastard, I made you the bowl so you would get off my bookcase. You promised, so get your lazy ass up and eat,” you scolded firmly, ready to throw the bowl at him when he sticks his middle finger up. You huff before smirking; time to bring out the big guns.

“Fine then. No more kisses for a week,” you said, going to leave. Katsuki’s head snapped to you.

“What?” He asked, sleepiness depleting.

“Yup, and no ear rubs whilst you’re napping too,” you list off, about to leave the living room when you hear conflicted angry grunts.

“Ugghghh fine, shitty mate. But, I get to lay on your lap and you have to feed me. Deal?” He answered cheekily, sleepy smirk slapped on his face.

You sigh.

“Deal.”

“Was this really so hard, sweetie?” You murmur to him softly, petting your sleepy bear boy after he demolished his bowl of salmon and rice. Katsuki cracked an eye open.

“Mhm, totally. Natural instincts an’ shit, plus I like being up in high places. Is too cold to do it outside,” he mutters, head nestling into your tummy. Your fingers trail softly over his cute little brown ears, giggling when you see his pompom tail wiggle.

“Stop moving, human. Your laughing is disrupting my sleep,” he mumbles, nosing your tummy as you wrap a blanket around him.

“Sorry, my love. Well we can look into constructing something a bit more practical for you to climb until it’s not as cold outside. I think the attic might be a cool place for some more climbing gear, plus the alcoves could be padded out for your naps,” you ramble quietly, gentle tracing of his ears never ceasing until you hear the quiet rumbly snores of your mate.

You stop talking, wrapped the blanket higher around his neck and kissed the space between his fluffy ears.

“Goodnight, my bratty cub.”

[m3lodyxo]

Welcome to "Is my taste in men bad or is he actually hot?"

On today's instalment we have:

The one.

The only.

The unapologetically hilarious...

*drumroll sound for dramatic effect cause I'm sassy*

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

Adam a.k.a. The Dick Master, also known by:

The leader of the Exterminators

The original dick

The first man

Mr. "All of humanity came from deez nuts"

(Second panel is NOT my art. All credit goes to scout_ish on Twitter.... X?? Idfk man, eat the rich, I hate this, I'm still calling it Twitter.)

ANYWHO

Now, is it the fact he's hilarious? Is it because he wears a mask? Is it the because Alex Brightman voices him? OR, is it because he plays guitar and I'm definitely part of the problem with stereotypes?

The amswer is E) all of the above

I blame all the fanart people do of him and two cosplayers in particular.

denki.darling

and

Har_Fie

I'm not even gonna try to justify this one. He's just silly, which in my book, is atractive.

Hes uglyhot guys, please.

[pinescent-and-gingerbread]

˗ˏˋ Arthur Morgan Modern!AU Headcanons ´ˎ˗

To answer this ask from the lovely @crystalofmoon19 , I got to think a bit more deeply about what a modern!AU Arthur could be. This absolutely stunning Arthur pic is from @arthurmorgan-vp!

JOB ´ˎ˗

Has a job that means a lot to him and is totally dedicated when doing it.

Arthur flourishes when helping others. I saw a Chartur fanart that portrayed him as a nurse and god I love this idea. He's emotionally VERY tough, making him efficient even in difficult and stressful times when a patient's life is in his hands. He's also a practical person who needs to have a concrete, manual aspect in his work. On top of that, we have the whole "service to society" aspect.

Police officer could also fit this dynamic. (I know it's pretty ironic considering he's a criminal in the canon but it's one of these jobs where he could put his strength into action to help others).

Also, without the need to survive and do criminal acts, with a caring family who could push him in the right ways, he also could have a job in arts. Arthur canonically is a curious and inventive person, he draws every little thing he finds interesting around him and cares for places, characters and events most people wouldn’t. I could picture him as an illustrator/concept artist. Or tattoo artist too? Why not.

HOBBIES ´ˎ˗

Sooooo artsy.

If he works at the hospital, he needs to have a sketchbook to just write and draw like in the canon. With other mediums being way more accessible nowadays, I think he could also paint and even sculpt from time to time.

Art helps him to get dark thoughts out of his head and focus on something when life gets hard.

However, if he already works in an artsy field, I think he would need to get up and move after a whole day sitting and would love to just go jogging, hiking, and taking long walks in nature. A combat sport could also do the work, as Arthur has an important code of honor: a discipline like Judo or Wrestling could help him get all his pent-up energy out while respecting his opponent; boxing could work too.

100% have a Polaroid and takes pictures of good times and his close ones every chance he gets. His bedroom/apartment is full of objects that carry an emotional value to him.

MODERN THINGS HE LIKES ´ˎ˗

Barbecues.

Would wear the ugliest apron and cap while doing them btw. And doesn't see what the problem is.

Classical rock music and vinyl. Thinking about Led Zepplin, The Stones, The Doors. Vintage music all the way. Has a secret soft spot for Lady Gaga though. Don't tell John. And (not-so) hot take, it's Hosea who introduces him to his old blues and rock records (Dutch prefers Jazz music.)

Camping and long hiking trips. Trekking when he feels really adventurous.

Going to the cinema. (100% eats salty popcorn and messes with John during the film if it's a family outing.)

In modern days Arthur would have been born in 1988. This means he was a '90s kid: he fondly remembers VHS tapes, baggy jeans, his old PlayStation One, maybe watching the first episodes of Pokémon, too. He's canonically such a nostalgic.

Would 100% make his own mix on cassette tapes btw

Flannels. I picture him with comfy rather than fancy clothes. He would also have a big leather jacket or vintage bomber for winter. And a leather bag like this one where important work papers are mixed with random trinkets found on his hikes.

RANDOM LITTLE FACTS ´ˎ˗

Arthur is so messy (I mean look at his tent). His car (Hosea's old one) is also a complete mess, cups, leftovers from meals, CDs, work stuff and random objects cover every possible inch of it.

Talking about it, looooves to drive. Totally do it with one hand on the wheel. And with good music ofc. (He would put his other hand on your thigh)

Has a dog. Or wants one deeply. A big one. And he definitely wants a lot of animals once he has a bigger house with you.

I said he could be a tattoo artist. I think he would have a tattoo, of an animal. Of course, we as a fandom thinks of the deer, but it has to be something meaningful to him. Maybe the animal who inspires him the most, or one they have seen in the wild with John during a walk in the woods.

Arthur is not a good cook. Buys a lot of food telling himself this time, he will succeed at making this damn dish. Biggest mess ever, ingredients everywhere on the floor, the walls, his body and hair. Pure chaos. Everything burns. Kitchen ends up on fire. Uses the internet as last hope, tries to watch as many tutorials as possible but it doesn't help+his phone ends up covered in egg white, flour, and wet ingredients. Throws away the food and gives up, orders a pizza.

Repeat previous paragraph every time he wants to try a new dish he saw somewhere.

(The phone is okay because he has the strongest and largest phone case ever. The kind of enormous one made to protect phones in building zones, for his hikes. It's pitch black.)

Overall I'd say a Modern!AU Arthur would probably be a bit happier even though still very nostalgic and melancholic at times (without the constant need to run away and kill people, his mental health would be much better.)

Important disclaimer: these are my personal thoughts, they could totally be shitty, I'm not at all claiming this is the absolute truth about him. A character is always subject to a personal interpretation, therefore anyone could picture him differently! Btw, I would love to hear your thoughts about it!

Thanks for reading! I hope you liked my silly little ideas.

I'm thinking about doing a part.2 where we could dive into his habits, his relationships with family, friends and s/o and other little fun facts. Let me know if I should! -Pine 🌱

[hcdragonwrites]

Tangled Love

(A @semisolidmind Drabble)

Ok! I ran this by Semi before I posted just because I know absolutely nothing about LMK (except the animation can be so pretty!) just so I could get their characters down. I hope you all like it !

She just wanted to escape- both from this place and from her own mind tonight.

The ghosts of memories were walking and she had no distractions to chase them away.

Peaches walked the cool cavern halls of Water- Curtain Cave, her feet echoing in the depths. The sandals she wore and the ornamental clothing she had been thrown into made her scalp prickle and her skin itch. It was too much- but the attendants wouldn’t hear a thing about it.

She had to look the part of Queen.

Peaches, in the absence of the Lord of the mountain and his right hand and sword, was the remaining voice of authority.

To a point.

Finishing with courtly duties and listening in on behalf of her husbands wasn't a huge chore. The two of them rarely left at the same time however. If one was called away the other would remain. Or Peaches herself would be brought along.

This time however she hadn’t been.

It was the first time in ten years.

She had just this night- just this moment of reprieve and she would make the most of it. Or so she thought. Instead, she was fighting something that reared its head and struck her nerves like a asp.

However she wasn’t alone quite yet. As she rounded the corner and came to golden lacquered doors of her bedchamber - their bedchamber- she paused.

“Will that be all my queen?” One of the attending retinue of her guard asked. It was a guard her husbands insisted upon whenever both were away from home- a set of seven of the most battle scarred simians Peaches had ever seen.

They were tasked and sworn with following her everywhere - to the dining hall, to the throne room. If she wished to go and sit among the apple trees and listen to the wind play over the mountain grasses her guard would double in size. Peaches tried to not cause the denizens of Flower fruit mountain any more problems or stressors by going outside when both the King and his Brother in arms were away on a war path.

Her husbands.

It’s what they titled themselves now, after a decade of the terrible start they had on their relationship with her. When she had met the two, they had been just tiny monkeys. A sly looking ginger and gold monkey who had loved to cling to her arms and a dark black furred monkey that brought her fruits and almonds from the wild.

My sweet boys.

They had been her monkeys back then- the little prankster angels she had thought were just simple beasts, trying to survive out in the world.

She had been wrong.

The decision to upend her life, she guessed, had been floated around for months between the two disguised demons as they ate her fruit and enjoyed her touches. It was a mutual one that both had decided was the best option for her.

She took a steadying breath, coming back to the present. Peaches wanted a chance to be alone. Something so rare she craved it like a man in a desert craved water.

“Yes, general. I think I’ll retire early for the day.” She smiled at the monkey who dipped his body into a bow. The gleam of his armor set the flickers of a memory brewing. Fire in the trees, the smell of iron on the wind and a figure among the debris. She shook her head to dislodge it. The rest of them weren’t awful to her. Her husbands weren’t awful to her. They had just ….

Taken away her decisions.

“Very well Queen.” Peaches flinched, unable to quite stomach the title and what that truly meant. If I am queen then why am I without choices? “If you need us call us.”

She turned the handle in the door and slipped in side with as much grace as she could muster.

Peaches closed the ornamental doors to the bedroom, resting her head against the door. Steady. Deep breaths. In through her nose out through her mouth.

The illusion of a paradise that Wukong had built and Macaque helped facilitate always lost its color and believability when they were away. They couldn’t feed her the sugared lies and candied perceptions to tamp back the memories of that night.

It had been just another night on the small farm - a June night of heat and singing cicadas- of windows wide open and Peaches trying to escape that heat. There wasn’t much she could do to escape it. The moisture clung to her and made her bedding stick and clog her nose. So on these nights she stayed up, usually with a candle or the moon to illuminate her night, and read.

The knock on the door was not something typical.

The memory was rising and she couldn’t hold it back. I have to ride it out. Survive it.

Like she had survived that night. Getting visitors in the dead of the night had been unconventional- and she remembered the feeling of being perturbed. Don’t answer it, she told the memory. But this was the past and ghosts of the past didn’t change their course.

She had closed her book, had stepped down the hall to the door and had opened it.

I should have called through- told him to stay away! I should have never left my bed or my book.

It was a drunk man. A fellow farm hand called in for one of the families to help bring in a harvest that had proved too bountiful for the immediate family to handle. Peaches could see the man before her eyes, smell the reek of him.

A drunk.

“Well ain’t it the village spinster! Whaaa da pretty thing you are!” He was a cloud of bitter rice wine, of too much sake on his breath. The intensity of it had a physical effect on her memory and in the present, Peaches wrinkled her nose.

“You should go home Sir.” She had told him- tried to close the door.

His foot moved faster and his hands had caught the door.

A wild set of emotions swept through her. She had to sit her body down, thankful she had been able to get away from the other monkeys before the memory seized her like a vice. They would have been in a panic over her and she couldn’t let their little hearts worry so. There was nothing they could do to stop the remembering.

It was his fault this all happened. It was His. He didn’t have to be drunk and show up at my home- he didn’t have to shove his way into my house and try and grab me.

But he was just a single man. Did his actions warrant the destruction that happened next ?

“Get out!” Her memory self cried. The wooden table she danced behind as the drunk stumbled and moved towards her, was her only shield.

“The Boys Said you prefer the company of wild animals …” his speech was hard to hear. The wine had made him bold, stupid, and aroused it seemed. “I thought I would give you mtaste of what a real man was, since the villagers are al’ ‘fraid of your Witchery with monkeys.”

She had run- she had thrown her things at him. It was probably the commotion of her breaking a pitcher over his head that had alerted her monkeys. The loud clatter of the pottery across the floor had sounded so sharp and final. It had only made the man more determined.

The drunk when he did get his hands on her was furious. He swung a fist and sent stars into her eyes. Peaches had clung like a wildcat to her conscious, kicking out with legs and swinging with fists. Her nose was full of the sour smell of him- had felt his hands and fought them. A kick to his groin had sent him wheezing. Another fist to her head had Peaches crying. She had stared that drunk in his mean little eyes as he whispered the terrible things he wanted to do to her.

She had been staring in those eyes when he died.

He never got to touch more than her arms that night.

Peaches heard something step through the door that had been left open to the night. She had heard the creak of her house as something walked within it. And the sound of something- like a water skin being popped and a splash of warm liquid against her belly had shocked her.

The Drunks eyes went wide with confusion, rolling horselike in his head. His bruising grip on her wrist had let go. In the present, She rubbed those wrists, the phantom pains hard.

“..mah… belly.” The drunk had mumbled then belched a bucket of blood onto the floor. Peaches could see something protruding from his middle- something long and thin like a stick. Or a staff.

Clawed hands pulled the head back and twisted with a fury. The sound of bones breaking was loud, as if a fire was consuming dry wood. The drunk crumbled in those hands like a puppet cut free of its strings.

A new stranger stood in her home, his frame large and broad and most assuredly not human. He tossed the body like someone would toss a rag across the floor. The glowing eyes in the sudden dark were all she could see. Her mind, even in its heightened adrenaline drenched state, recognized the face pattern, saw a familiarity in the fur. There was, in fact, still a little flower tucked against this demonic creatures ear. The same flower she had interwoven in her forest friend's fur that afternoon.

“Your… your my…”

Nerves and the come down from the adrenaline high we’re making speech hard. The monkey demon before her, who’s eyes seemed to spit fire, softened. Just a bit.

“You are my Peaches.” Wukong said, touching her hair, her face, her hands. Taking stock. Then he had taken those limp hands and threaded them through his fur, trying to get them to grip. It would help his own rage and calm her fear. It was thick in the air, ruining the natural sweet smell she had. That and the slab of flesh on the floors own fetid death scent.

Wukong was not the best at this - this comfort thing. But he would rise to the occasion. He would try for her.

Fury and rage made his tail lash and the fur along his neck to stand on end.

At first she had just been a simple human that would leave little offerings to him and his brother in arms. An oddity here in the shadow of his mountain. Most humans around here feared the monkeys and kept away from all of them, having a legend that if one was harmed a great calamity would befall them.

Wukong didn’t mind being that calamity. These were his people, his subjects. So hearing the chatter from some of his kind that a women had begun to leave out gifts had of course spiked the Kings curiosity. The humans beneath Flower Fruit Mountain were his lesser subjects. So he had come down from the mountain, disguising himself as a smaller and more approachable sized monkey, to see the fuss his subjects had started gossiping about at groomings. Only to see his brother, Macaque, already being petted and tended and kissed on each of his six ears.

Of course first impressions had been terrible and Wukong, used to getting the first pick of everything, had come screeching into the clearing and demanding his own pets. It had set off a very small and very mock little battle between the two brothers in arms. One that had Peaches separating them and scolding them as she patched up the little scratches they had taken from eachother. They could have each resisted her pull but both decided that play acting a fight, even if it had started as a bit of one, was the best way to get attention divided between the both of them.

Wukong hadn’t expected to become infatuated. Her name didn’t matter to him- he had rebranded her almost the instant she came to him and offered a smile and held out a handful of sugar and dates. Peaches. After the Kings own favorite fruit, the sweetest thing the mountain produced.

His Peaches.

Of course also Macaques. He shared everything with his brother, the dark furred and six eared demon who had faced battles and won wars besides Wukong. While Wukong had been more leery, Peaches won him over faster than Flower Wine loosened his rigid posture. They had both fallen for this mortal women. And, in the traditional way she belonged to them. She just didn’t know it yet. They had touched and groomed and cuddled and tangled limbs and tails. They were practically married without the marriage bit.

Wukong rubbed small circles into Peaches back, trying to keep himself from bearing his teeth in rage.

I should have taken her home the moment she kissed me.

They had been kisses of the kind one gives to a friend or pet. It had left the warlord craving more burning with more.

Of wanting to feel her give him more than just a chaste kiss on the side of his face.

She wouldn’t have been hurt if he had just taken her home.

Wukong and Macaque had taken to one or both spending the night in Peaches trees, to keep an eye on her. Wukongs obsession had grown into a fascination and warm buttery love. A love that was becoming a wild inferno as he fought to stay still and not leap upon the corpse he had made and turn it into nothing but bits of flesh and gore the crows could carry away.

His Peaches fingers finally grasped his fur and shook. It brought Wukong back from his montage of rage to the present. If only Mac was here — but he wasn’t. He was back at home on Flower Fruit mountain , giving his brother the night to enjoy and keep lookout at Peaches den.

“That’s my girl.” The demon tried to soothe. He really wished he could set Peaches down and finish off what he had started. This place had been bad. This village terrible. He hated every thing and one here that had dared to let a drunken fool up to his Peaches doorstep and allowed this to happen. In reality Wukong was mad it had been Mac’s own sense of importance on taking it slow and letting a little thing like a life outside of Flower Fruit Mountain stop him from from revealing who he was and taking her home.

I am done trying to woo her over slowly. They could have lost her this night if Wukong hadn’t been in earshot, hadn’t heard the crash of something breaking. His clawed hands wrapped around her back and beneath her legs. Before he could realize it, Wukong had her up and in his arms, already stepping on and across the corpse and out into the June air. Mine.

“Let’s get you home, lovely.” Wukongs voice was thick with emotion. Relief to finally, finally, finally have an excuse to take his wife home, to see her sleep in a real bed and eat real food made his heart swell. No more pretending. No more longing. It was happening now. Simmering beneath that emotion was the sweet bubble, the red misting rage, of violence. Once he got her home, got her safe, got her tangled within some of his and Macaques blankets to where the sour smell of fear would be lost within the scent of them- he could come back. He would come back.

He would destroy the village for being the obstacle it was in his conquest for this mortal girls heart. It was in itself, a relief to know he was justified in its destruction.

Look what this place did to bruise my sweet fruit.

Peaches was shaking. Clinging to him. I would have her cling to me always. He pressed his nose into her neck, breathing in as he walked off. She smelled so good. He rubbed his face to hers, affectionately smothering her fear scent. Wukong felt a smile curl his face. Finally. We can go home and put the charade to bed. Finally you are mine.

Peaches' memory of that night was mostly of clinging to Wukong as they flew through the air, of his voice a rumble of soft words and comforts. He was holding her close, pressing her in. Smothering her in a sense. But she needed it. She clung to it in a way to stop herself from being sick from fright. It was strange but familiar to hold this fur, to cling. Then she briefly remembered another voice, another set of hands. When she looked up and saw that her sweet dark monkey was also here, had also been a demon in disguise, something broke in her. Maybe hysteria. Maybe disbelief. Or maybe she knew, somewhere in her mind, that no matter what she said now wouldn’t save the people- the innocents- in her village.

Peaches had been transferred into the dark arms and THATS where she finally began to cry. The shock was fading and leaving behind ragged holes of emotion.

“Safe, you're safe now.” She was reassured. Hands had lifted her chin, her sweet little monkey- now a demonic one- was gently beginning to sponge away the blood from the cuts on her face. Her cheek swelled, her eye with it.

“Please don’t kill them.” She begged. “He already took care of the one who hurt me don’t kill my village.”

“Hush love…”

“Please!”

Silence. Something cold pressed to her face- a bit of snow from far up the mountain wrapped in cloth. Macaques ears twitched like flower petals in the night air.

“It’s already done. The village is already gone.”

The memory rode itself out in the present and faded slowly.

Guilt washed over her and she cried all for a new reason. She had been the catalyst for Sun Wukongs fury. She had been the decider to his want of destruction. Peaches may not have killed them, may have had a decade to realize that what had happened wasn’t her fault, but Wukong had done it in her name. He had erased that village and all its people like a cartographer reshapes a map. To all the rest of the world, their had never been a village in the shadow of Flower fruit mountain. Not a foundation, not a brick, not even a spare hair, was left of humanity there. Instead it had been cleared as if a fire had swept through. Peaches had seen it on one occasion when Wukong had been persuaded to show her. She had needed closure. Needed the peace.

Once she had healed she had been told her village was gone. She had been given a sweet lie- that Wukong had gone back and the villagers related to the drunk had been ransacking her house to see where she kept the money or any spare wine.

When Wukong had shown up demanding they answer to the crime committed in her home, they had attacked. Wukong had enacted a king's justice as was his right. He had told the remaining villagers to leave- to never set foot upon his domain again for the lawlessness that had been enacted upon their neighbor.

It had taken two years for her to be able to relax whenever he came in smelling of fire and iron. It had taken a few years more for her to remember what Macaque had said when he had pressed snow to her face.

They were the same little monkeys they had been before. But now they had less innocence when they pressed into her face for kisses, when they asked to tangle and cuddle limbs. They insisted she stay in the bedchamber and not move to her own separate room.

It had taken getting used to movement beside her as a hand tugged her hair, or a tale twined her waist. Or a leg curled with hers or hands holding her face. Sometimes in the dark Mac would press his head to her back, using her as a pillow. Wukong would yank her in when he thought her too sleepy to remember and whisper all the things he loved about her.

It would have been sweet. It was touching in a way. If not for the way they revealed themselves. If not for that memory and what she knew now had come after.

It had not taken too long after that for her to start realizing that, though Wukong had saved her, neither of them had any regret of what happened. Neither of them was going to let her go.

When she asked about it or started talking of missing her home- the simple living, the ability to really on herself and choose for herself- Wukong would laugh and launch into one of his tales. He would brush her hair with his claws, run his face against hers and try and deflect her attention to new things.

Macaque, if Wukong was absent, would let her talk. Usually it happened when he asked her to brush his fur or he in turn asked to brush her hair. Peaches thought, just a bit, that the reason Mac was better at listening was for all the ears he had. Each time however, when she got to the part about how this had been her fault, he would stop mid way through a braid or pin and pull her in. Macaque would kiss the tears from her eyes, would press himself close to her chest.

“It was Never your fault Peaches.”

“I remember. I remember he went back- you said he—“

“Hush love you’ll grow hysterical. What Wukong did was justified- he defended you.”

“He killed.”

“I have killed.” He kissed her temple, gentle in his reprimands. He wouldn’t try and brush her words beneath a rug like Wukong. Instead he gave her a smile as wide as the crescent moon. “Let’s finish your hair and get you dressed. We can go see the baby’s, I know how you love the baby’s.” Baby monkeys were her weakness. They had been what led to her loving Mac before she had known he was a demonic warlord.

Peaches rubbed at her eyes and stood, the sorrow in her heart heavy still but the tears at least had stopped. Now she was just tired. Tired and cold and wanting to escape the feeling of it all. So she shed her courtly attire. All the clips and jewels and baubles and bits felt heavy. She placed them within the box at her armoire, then loosened her hair from its bindings. Jade pins, pearl necklaces, golden bracelets with bells of silver (Wukong loved this the best of all) all glimmered back in the firelight.

A pretty price.

She snapped the box closed.

On nights like this, she wanted to wear nothing but her smock, her simple clothing, and bury herself as far as she could go into the bed she shared with her husbands.

It was more of a pit set into the ground, circular in nature. Silken pillows, red sheets and a hoard of anything plush and furred had been thrown into the pit. It was also a snug place to bury herself within and one of the few things she didn’t feel resentment too right away. When the outside felt too bright and she couldn’t go about the mountain to her usual quiet places, she would retire here. To burrow, to bury, to hide.

Peach fell back into the pit of blankets and pillows and pulled herself beneath a fur of some striped monster Macaque had skinned and gifted to her. Tonight the bitter truth was hard to swallow and did circles in her head.

You did this. You caused this. You killed them. This is your fault.

She closed her eyes and hoped … hoped for what might be the worst thing yet. Her husband's return.

A time later she stirred. Something was in her room- was walking to the bed. Peaches felt a flutter of fear before hands reached into her hiding place and simply slid her out.

“Hello darling.” The silken voice belonged to none other than Macaque. His clawed hands entwined around her waist, his teeth nipping at her ear. “You are up late.”

“Does that mean it will be a late morning?” Wukongs voice came from the other side of the room. Peaches could see the ginger monkey removing armor from his shoulders and stretching. As the darker brother kept making a snack of her shoulder, Peaches noticed that the shine of Wukongs paldrom was dimmed. Something black coated the golden imprint of sunbursts across its armored surface. “I love late mornings! Means more time together.”

Blood?

“Peaches?” She turned her head, trying to see Mac. He had left off nipping her skin. A hand came away from her wrist and tipped her chin, forcing her to stare directly into his violet eyes. “What has upset you?”

Everything. Myself. Wukong. You. It was that simple question that set her sorrow to flowing again. She was confused, upset, and she wanted comfort. The only ones who could give her comfort were the very ones who caused her distress.

A vicious cycle.

The pillows behind her sagged. Wukongs hands were more aggressive in their touches, turning her about to stare into her face. He noted the tears, the bruising beneath her eyes. His lip curled in anger.

“Has someone upset you?” Wukong asked. He seemed ready to stand again, to grab his armor and step out into the night. “I will drag them here to give an apology. You name them and I will fetch them.”

Peaches shook her head.

“Just ….” You killing the villagers, Macaque telling me plainly that it was for the best, and my own head making me relive that night of events. Over and over and over.

“…. Myself.”

His face softened as he chirped a reassurance, pressing his nose to hers. Macaque peppered her in gentle and butterfly soft kisses to the back of her neck. The three fell back into the nest, limbs entwined and hands holding. Macaque had Peaches face buried in his chest as she sobbed silently. He cooed. He whispered how everything would be right as rain in the morning. His hands ran through her hair and messaged her scalp. Wukong held his Peaches, pressing her back to his chest in a solid wall against the world outside. He lavished her in praises and compliments, sometimes getting carried away and talking about himself until his brother would remind him with a flick to his forehead that it was their Peaches he should be reassuring.

And through it all, through this twisted and tangled weave of limbs and fur and warmth and sorrow, Peaches felt love. It grew in this dark place still, wanting to thrive. But how could it?

Still she fell asleep, lashes sparkled with tears and her heart lighter. One could only be sad so long in the wake of such waves of attention. Wukongs and Macaques love was the only solution to this ailment they had inflicted upon her, and she, the addict, swallowing the medicine that would give her release.