#the slug doesn’t have a name he’s just There

[hana-bobo-finch]

THE FIRST SIDE OF THE PUMPKIN DADDY’S BOOK CASE IS DONE 🦅🦅🦅💥💥💥

[mintmatcha]

I so understand this would be so far off, but I’m imagining reader’s son being 13 and a couple months old, he’s cordial with Shinsou, for his mum, but he’s trying to come to terms with why his mum didn’t stay with his dad. Until monoma doesn’t show up for something and maybe one of his friends is like ‘hey, I’m really sorry your dad is always doing that. It must really suck’

‘My dad always shows up usually, just later. He’s busy.’ And the look of pity from his friend and it just CLICKS

Has to call his mum to pick him up and shinsou picks him up because maybe it’s late at night, and shinsou has always respected that he shouldn’t talk shit about monoma in front of your son, but when your son starts asking about things, about the lies and twisted truths monoma has told, shinsou won’t lie to him. Just gives him yes and no answers.

Monoma doesn’t understand why all of a sudden his son isn’t responding to his messages or answering his phone calls, and there’s no way he’s calling you to reveal to you that he’s no longer the golden father figure in your son’s eyes

I LOVE THIS IDEA AAA

I think, leading up to that, the more your son is angry at monoma, the more he's disrespectful of you. it's displaced, but he just can't bring himself to think that his dad is the problem.

the only time shinso has ever REALLY yelled at him was after school one day. monoma was supposed to come for his weekend, but it's shinso standing at the curb waiting for him.

"Whoa, that's your dad?" a friend asks. oh, he had been bragging all day that his pro hero dad was coming to take him on vacation and now he's face to face with the realization that he's not going anywhere.

"He is not my dad." There's so much angst and anger building up in his gut. you must have done something to piss his real dad off- it's always your fault when he doesn't arrive- "he's just some guy my mom whores around with."

Shinso's jaw flexes so tightly that he can see it from all the way from across the street. He uses his whole name, biting out every syllable with a barely restrained anger. your son trudges across the street with his pack dragging on the ground.

"Say that again." It's been years since he's thought Shinso was scary, but the cold grind of his voice makes him freeze. "Say it right here, to my face."

They both know he can't. He doesn't have the guts. Shinso bends over just a bit, bringing himself face to face.

"You do not have to respect me. You don't even have to like me." Shinso's voice breaks with the sheer volume he's using. your son looks back at his friends, who look equally horrified. "But you will not talk about your mother that way."

The man jabs a finger towards the school bag.

"And pick up your fucking bag." He's never cursed at your son before. "Your mom worked extra shifts to pay for that."

He had begged for this bag, the full leather one. it was expensive. too expensive to ask you for. It came as a holiday present with no name, so he had always assumed his dad was the one who bought it. Monoma is the one with money-- you're just a waitress. The scuffed bottom suddenly feels embarrassing.

Shinso hasn't stopped his ranting. "All she has ever done is loved you. Your whole life! All she's ever done! And I will not let you treat her the way your father treats her, got it?"

Your son doesn't reply.

"I said- did you fucking get that?"

His real dad never yells. No, he just laughs when he says things like that. Your son sniffs and slugs his bag over his shoulder. "Yeah. Whatever."

"And if you ever say that to your mother's face-" he can't finish the sentence. "Get walking."

[neeeooon]

IM SO HAPPY FOR YOUU ❤️CONGRATULATIONS ON GAINING 1000 FOLLOWERS

I wanted to make a request for your event if that's fine!

Can u do one for College au!Rin from Blue Lock. He's your brothers best friend/rival (brother being isagi) and fluff! (Please no more angst I might actually end it all)

THANK YOUUU the way i’ve received notta ONE angst request 😭😭🙏

crushing on your brother’s rival

brother’s rival!rin x isagi’s gn!reader sibling. fluff, slight crack. isagi and rin are rivals

isagi smacked the back of your head when he caught you staring dreamily at brother’s rival!rin as he jogged around campus. “ow! what was that for?!”

“you’re staring! again!” brother!isagi replied with a fuming frown, causing you to pout and sink into your chair. you watched brother’s rival!rin silently after that

you never thought brother’s rival!rin actually noticed you, seeing as he was preoccupied with your brother, but when leaving class one day, you nearly pass out when you run directly into him

“oh!” you gasp as you gaze up dreamily at brother’s rival!rin. “why, hello there~ to what do i owe the pleasure?”

brother’s rival!rin’s ears, to your surprise, flush light pink. “i, um. are you free this weekend?”

your immediate instinct is to climb brother’s rival!rin like a tree and cover him with kisses, but you resist. “i am! you’re not only asking me to annoy my brother, are you?”

brother’s rival!rin grimaces at the mention of isagi. “trust me, i would have asked you out long ago if you weren’t somehow related to that slug. i’ve decided i don’t care what he thinks, anymore. you can say no if you—“

“yes! i’ll grab your number from isagi’s phone and text you so you have mine,” you say and feel your knees wobble when brother’s rival!rin smiles at you

it doesn’t take nearly as long to find brother’s rival!rin’s number in your brother’s phone, as everyone else had their last name while he’s saved as “evil disgusting swamp monster”

brother’s rival!rin shows up early, and you can see him in his car debating whether he should knock on your door or wait until it’s time

saving him the trouble, you tug your shoes on at the door, flip your brother off when he asks where you’re going, and dodge his smack to the head as you jog over to brother’s rival!rin’s car

“y/n, get back—rin?!” you hear brother!isagi screech when he recognizes the car, and you practically fly into brother’s rival!rin’s passenger seat. “drive!”

you don’t even realize you’re holding brother’s rival!rin’s hand until he clears his throat, but instead of pulling away, you tighten your grip and smile. “so, you would have asked me out long ago, huh?

brother’s rival!rin turns the color of the red light in front of you. “maybe. you’re cute, i guess. and a little funny. and nice. and your hat is pretty—“

“keep complimenting me and i’ll have no choice but to marry you right here right now,” you confess, partially joking, just to see brother’s rival!rin choke on his tongue

brother’s rival!rin gives your hand a small squeeze. “i-i mean, if that’s what you want, one day—“ “imagine if i went from isagi y/n to itoshi y/n. my brother would never be able to one up you after that.”

brother’s rival!rin’s eyes sparkle as he spares you a quick, mischievous glance. “how expensive is a flight to vegas?”

[zoro-chwaan]

Oh my god. I know I promised that I was gonna post last week. But I got hella busy. I went to a Shrek rave which was fun. Also I am BEGGING, PLEASE ASK WHAT YOU WANT TO SEE FROM ME!! I’m planning on doing characters from shows sometime soon.

Word count: 1.6k (GOD DAMN)

Fem/fem aligned dni!

NSFW, content warning: weed, having sex while high, overstimulation, pet names, reader was called a slut like once (please let me know if I missed something)

•◦•◦────✦◦•✙•◦────✦◦•◦•

Stoner emo boy who loves to hot box the dorm room. You entered your shared dorm and was immediately hit with smell with weed. You looked to your left to see your new roomie laying his head back on the bean bag, holding a bong on his right hand and a lighter on the other. The LED lights changed to the color red.

You sighed and took off your coat and grabbed a change of clothes and went into the bathroom to shower. After an hour of a hot shower, you got out and were about to change when you realized that you forgot a change of boxers… fuck. You quickly wrapped your towel around your waist and prayed that your roommate was asleep. You opened the door and if he was asleep.. well it doesn’t look like he’s up.

You quickly went to your closet and opened it to grab a pair of boxers. “Well aren’t you a bold one? Walking around the dorm room with just a towel. Were you like this with your old roomie?” You heard a raspy voice from behind you. It startled and slowly turned around, you see him eyeing you up and down. You apologized and tried to go back into the bathroom.

“Woah woah, where you going? I don’t mind the show.” He smirked and stood up. He made his way towards you and wrapped his arms around your waist. You tensed up which made him chuckle, his lips moving close to your ear. “Come on, let’s have some fun, yeah?” He whispered and blew air in your ear. You shoved him away and dashed to the bathroom and locked it.

꒦︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒷꒦‧₊˚・

A couple of weeks has passed since the incident, he hasn’t really bothered you unless it was to ask for a spare pencil or if you wanted to smoke. He made sure to respect your boundaries and space, which you were thankful for.

One day you entered your dorm room to see him changing shirts. Your eyes widened and jaw dropped, he didn’t looked built with the shirts that he wears. But golly, can looks be deceiving. “You’re staring, Angel. State any longer and you might burn holes through me.” He chuckles. You looked at him, then turned around and apologized.

“Don’t worry about it, Angel. I think that was a fair trade from when I eyed you.” He spoke smoothly as he puts on another shirt. He told you that you could turn around now. You nodded and closed the door and made your way towards your desk. “So, how was class for you today?” He asked. You let out a loud groan of frustration, and replying with how the lecture itself wasn’t the issue, but the fact that your professor thought you should partner up with one other person.

You of course didn’t mind that, but he decided that he’d do a little ‘spin the wheel’ to partner you up. You ended with the class asshole who tries to slug his way through the project, that or sleep with the person who he’s partnered with. You sat down on the chair and you heard your roommate laughing loudly. You looked at him and glared. “Sorry, I just find it hilarious who you ended up with.” You laid your head back and sighed, agreeing with him.

.

Another week has passed and your project partner was being a jackass, not surprising. He tried to sedate you, and when you turned him down, he called you a bitch. He then left you alone to do the project all by yourself. You, turned it in and made your way to your dorm. You opened the door and entered then slammed the door shut. You made your way to your bed and flopped down on it.

“Well hello to you too.” Your roommate said. You groaned in response. After a while, you sat up and looked at him. Only to see him staring at you. “You okay, Angel?” He asked sitting down on the beanbag. You whined and told him the whole fiasco, as you slid down your bed onto the floor. He just nodded, as you both sat there silently. “Well I know a way to help you ease that stress.” He took out a joint. You shook your head and told him you don’t smoke.

“Then how about an edible? It would have the same effect as smoking, kinda.” You thought about it for a moment, then agreed. He smiled and stood up and grabbed his bag. He dug around in it for a bit, then pulled out a container the held brownies. He opened it and took one out and broke it in half. He walked up to you and handed to you, but before he did he warned you that it’ll take 5 to 10 minutes for it to hit and also said for you to be careful with it. You nodded and grabbed the brownie.

You looked at it, then looked at him. He made his way towards the beanbag and sat down. You contemplated for a bit, then you spoke up. You asked if he could get high with you. He chuckled and nodded, “Sure Angel, I wouldn’t mind.”

꒦︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒷꒦‧₊˚・

10 minutes has passed and you felt light. You feel relaxed and calm, happy and comfortable. You looked at your roommate and saw him smoking. He grabbed the LED lights control a few minutes ago and turned the colors red.

“How do you feel?” He asked you. You replied with saying how you felt thirsty. He chuckles and stood up and went to the fridge and pulled out a cold bottled water. He tossed it to you, but you failed to catch it. Only with it hitting your head and landing on the floor next to you. Your roommate cackled out loud, and you looked at him and laughed with him.

You grabbed the bottled water and opened it and took a sip. “Refreshing?” You nodded, and closed the bottle. You placed it next to you and you stared at your roommate once again. You smiled, then laid your head back onto your bed and closed your eyes. You both entered a comfortable silence. This felt nice, you could understand why people liked getting high. It’s a nice feeling. You opened your eyes and looked at the ceiling. Without realizing, you said that you’re still a virgin. A couple minutes passed, which left like an eternity, and you looked at your roommate.

He was looking at you with shock. You don’t what got over you, but you crawled towards him and laid your head on his lap. He tensed up, “Listen, you’re completely in cloud 9. I don’t want you to do anything that you’ll regret later. I think-“ You pressed your lips against his to shut him up. You closed your eyes as you continued to kiss him, you moved closer to him. You were about to pull away, when you felt his hands on your waist and his lips chasing yours.

.

.

.

♡

You covered your mouth with your hand to try to muffle the moans. “Nuh uh, don’t do that, Angel. Let me hear those pretty moans.” He whispered softly as he thrusts deeply into your cunt. He moved your hand that was once on your mouth and held it. He moved his head towards your neck and starts kissing it.

He continues to pound into you as moaned out his name, which in turn made him groan. He felt you tighten around him, and moved his head towards your ear and started to moan softly. “Fuck.. you feel so good.” He grabbed one of your thighs with his other hand and lifts it up. When he did, he hit a part the made you squirt around his cock.

“What a good boy, doing so well for me, my pretty slut. Taking me so well.” He thrusts deeper and faster into you, which made you whine. Tears falling down your face as your eyes rolled up. Not being able to think straight. He hums in satisfaction and continues to hit that spot.

He lets go of your hand and moves it down to your clit, he started rubbing it the same speed as his thrust. You moaned with a high pitched voice. “Oh that was a beautiful noise, Angel. Can you do it again”. He asked as he rubbed your clit faster. You shook your head as your back arched. “Awe come on, Angel. I know you can. You want to come again, don’t you?” He said seductively, you nodded and begged him. He stops thrusting, which made you whine at the loss of friction. You tried to move, only for him to pull out and turn you around. Making you lay on your stomach.

He lifted your hips up, and without hesitation slammed back into your cunt. You moaned loudly as his hand made his way to your clit once again. “I’m about to cum, Angel. Do you want it in or out?” His lips close to your ear. You begged that you want it in. He chuckled and pounds your hole faster as he rubs your clit. After a couple more deep thrusts, you both came.

He pulls out and grabs his shirt to clean you up, he then threw his shirt on the floor. He turns you around and lays next to you. “How do you feel, Angel?” He waited a couple minutes and was about to speak up only to hear soft snores. He chuckles softly and whispers, “I finally got you for myself.. my Angel”

[azsazz]

Over Ice (Part 7)

Hockey!Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Anon Req: She’s walking around Campus and BOOM right smack dab into Broody McBrooder!! She THEN finds out he’s the tutor for one of her hardest courses (personally Psych would be a good one) and they become super duper close with him and the team!!!

Warnings: Drinking, playing party games.

Word Count: 2,904

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6)

_________________________________________

Playing a game his cousin made up has never ended well. Not when they were younger, and Rhys knows that it certainly isn’t going to end well tonight, especially when there’s alcohol involved.

He doesn’t know why he agreed. Maybe it was because he was thinking more with his cock than his head, the taste of your skin still buzzing across his lips like a spell you put him under. He wants to move closer, doesn’t like how you’re sitting on the other side of the circle from him, with too many people between the both of you and even more who join when Mor announces the game to anyone around who’s listening.

Of course, Amarantha pushes her way into the circle, taking up position right beside him. He stiffens, and it takes effort for Rhys to unhinge his jaw and slug back some of the amber liquid in his cup that Cassian poured him. It’s pretty much just straight alcohol, which might be exactly what he needs to endure this game if his clingy ex stands beside him all night.

Your eyes latched onto his ex the moment she entered the game. Mor made a face, knowing exactly who she is, but didn’t mention it. You wonder if she thinks that there’s a chance, she thinks Rhys and Amarantha have the possibility of rekindling their relationship, and you want to ask her how she feels about the girl, but you don’t want to seem too interested in her cousin and his ex.

It doesn’t stop you from looking, though. Amarantha’s friend flanks her side, creating a further distance between you and Rhys. You’re on completely opposites of the circle, now, and the smug grin on her red painted lip tell you she knows it, too. The stirs the neon pink straw in her cup. It makes her sharp, crimson nails pop. She gives you an innocent shrug when she catches you staring, and you tear your eyes from hers only to settle them on those familiar violet ones that are widened comically as if to tell you, Help me!

You don’t know how to help him. It’s not like you can move to sit between them; that alone would be enough for Mor to question you, and if Rhys’ ex forced you into doing something more to prove that you’re the couple you’re trying to make her think you are, it’ll be game over before it’s even begun, because your loyalties lie with your best friend.

This night has turned into such a shit show it’s all you can do to sit in your spot while Mor explains the rules.

“The name of the game is TD Bottle.” She plants a glass bottle in the center of the circle, and you already don’t like the looks of this. Peering around the circle, you assess the partygoers. If this is a kissing game, you want to know what you’re getting yourself into. There’s Rhys, who you carefully avoid eye contact with because the thought of his lips anywhere near your body again has shivers skittering up your spine. Amarantha, who hasn’t stopped glancing up at Rhys like he is her God. A few of Rhys’ teammates are scattered around the circle—Cassian, Balthazar, James, and even Azriel seems to be sitting in on the game as well, much to your surprise. The girls heavily outweigh the men, and Gwyn looks like a terrified mouse in the presence of a murder of crows.

You catch her bright blue eyes, silently asking if she’s okay. If she wants to leave, you’ll go with her, no questions asked.

She gives you a smile that you assume is supposed to be reassuring, but is anything but. But she stays. You all stay.

“Like, Touch Down?” James asks, brows bent in confusion.

“No, no, it’s like Touchy Dick,” Cassian throws in easily, eliciting laughter from the boys and eye rolls from the girls. But the mixture of anticipation and tension that hangs over the group disperses, and everyone seems to ease into their seats a little.

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Mor wrinkles her nose, pulling a face of disgust.

“Please, tell us what the hell it means before they keep guessing,” Rhys mutters, bringing his cup to his lips for another swig. You watch the way his throat bobs as he swallows, and he raises a mocking brow when he catches your gaze. Shit. Maybe the few drinks you’ve had are starting to take effect, and this game surely isn’t going to help the case.

He winks, and it’s only then that you’re able to rip your gaze from his violet stare, cheeks burning warmly.

The only good thing is that Amarantha catches the interaction and her lips tighten to a razor thin line that makes her look more of like the snake you think she is.

“It stands for Truth, Dare, Bottle,” Mor says. “It’s a combination of truth and dare and spin the bottle.”

“How…” Rhys trails off, trying to find the word.

“Apropos?” You supply. You and Rhysand share conspiring smiles that feel much too intimate for the near-strangers you’re supposed to be in the presence of his cousin.

Mor whines. “That’s not fair, I can’t have one of my best friends and my cousin ganging up on me like this. I won’t stand for it!”

She means it as a joke, but it shocks you and Rhys, realizing that you should not be acting so friendly for only having met on a few occasions. Hell, Mor doesn’t even know that he’s your psychology tutor yet.

You nurse your drink, trying to ignore the knot that’s wound itself back into your stomach. It’s not mixing well with the tequila. You focus all your attention on your friend. “Sorry, continue.”

“So, one person spins the bottle,” Mor says, giving the empty glass a swing around the circle. Everyone seems to lean in closer, eager to see who it’s going to land on. You aren’t worried about it landing on you because it’s your roommate, but you’re sure this state of somewhat calm won’t last when it’s someone else spinning the bottle. Especially Rhys.

The bottle stops, it’s mouth pointing to Cassian, who beams like he’s won player of the year. “The person it lands on chooses truth or dare, and we all know how that game goes,” Mor waves her hand, gesturing Cassian to answer.

He waggles his brows. “Dare.”

“I dare you to…take off your shirt,” Mor says, and the girls in the circle whistle and cheer.

“I’m not wearing a shirt,” Cassian responds, gesturing to his bare torso hidden beneath his apron. You can see the tan skin of his broad back, the way his muscles ripple as he moves, and damn, that was a good dare.

A throat clearing draws your attention away from where you’re ogling Cassian’s body. Rhys raises an unimpressed brow, his jaw ticking as he stares you down. Amarantha’s red gaze flickers between you and Cassian, brows knitted together as if you’re some equation she’s trying to figure out.

“Sorry,” you mouth across the circle when Amarantha’s attention is diverted when Mor rolls her eyes and commands Cassian to take off his apron instead.

Rhys rolls his eyes, and you stifle the pang of disappointment at missing Cassian stripping off the top of his apron, now sitting completely shirtless in his spot.

“And now it’s Cassian’s turn to spin,” Mor finishes with a beaming smile. “See? Easy.”

“Super easy,” Cassian agrees, spinning the bottle. It lands on Amarantha’s friend, and his grin turns lethal. “Let’s make this more interesting. Alis, truth or dare?”

She crosses her arms over her chest, a move that Cassian does not mind at all, especially when it pushes her breasts up like that. She lifts her chin, staring him down as she answers, “Dare.”

Cassian ponders for a moment, before he breaks out into a mischievous smile. “I dare you to refill my cup with anything I want until the end of the game.”

Alis grimaces, and you so do not envy her, especially when Cassian immediately hands her his cup and asks her to fill it with ice and whiskey. He jokes, turning toward the circle, “Anyone else want anything?”

On and on the game goes until the bottle lands on Amarantha and she answers a truth about how many guys she’s slept with. Then, she taker her turn and spins the bottle. It lands on Rhysand, just like you knew it would somehow. It fills you with a nausea that you try to drown out with your drink, only to find your cup empty. Huh. You don’t remember downing your entire cup. Maybe you can dare someone to get you a refill when it’s your turn.

“Truth or dare, Rhys?” Amarantha says, sickeningly sweet. She even bats her eyelashes for effect, but Rhys doesn’t even glance her way, much more interested in trying to shatter the glass bottle pointing in his direction with his fiery glare.

“Truth,” he grits, bracing himself for whatever imploring question is going to fall from her lips.

“Do you miss that thing I did with my hands? When I would—”

“No,” he growls, cutting her off. Wherever she was trying to go with that question, it backfires, because Rhys reaches into the circle and spins the bottle with a flick that means business.

“Awe, I wanted to hear what she was going to say,” her friend pouts, though the glance she shares with her friend tells you she already knows.

“Well, Alis, maybe if you ask nicely, she’ll do it to you, too.” Rhys is undeterred by their gaping looks, and a few of his players can’t hold back their snickers. Amarantha and Alis’ cheeks turn red, and you think they might leave the game in the midst of their humiliation, but they stubbornly stay put.

He spins, and the bottle lands on one Cassian again, who seems to really be the only one enjoying the game. Rhys dares him to take a shot of alcohol. Lame, but Rhysand doesn’t want to play, knows that he’s only doing it because you are and he wants to bear witness to your truths and dares.

“(Y/N)? Truth or dare?”

“Um, dare.” You hadn’t meant to choose that option, but you were so distracted by the way that Rhys keeps leaning away from Amarantha every time she tries to slant against him. It yields a fire in your belly at the sight, one so consuming that you don’t realize what you’ve said until it’s too late.

Cassian grins like the cat that got the cream, and you don’t like it one fucking bit.

Rhys looks just as surprised as you do, even more so when Cassian dares you to kiss him. It’s then that he’s able to remove his gaze from you to glare at his roommate, though it does sting when your first reaction to the dare is to frown.

Mor groans, slapping Cassian’s side. “Dude, seriously?”

“Seriously,” he nods in confirmation. He’s clearly not reading the room. “What?” He asks, “Are you going to back out, (Y/N)?”

You shake your head. No, you can’t back out. Not when Amarantha thinks that you and Rhys are already together. She’d absolutely question why the two of you wouldn’t kiss, which would cause questions from Mor to unravel the plan you and Rhys have just agreed to.

“Mor,” you call, all but crawling across the large circle to reach Rhys. He catches on, something sparking in his violet eyes as he leans forward to meet you halfway. “Close your eyes.”

You hear an indignant huff, and then nothing because the pounding of your heart drowns out the noise of the party around you. There’s a question in Rhysand’s eyes and you shake your head softly, watching as he swallows harshly when you show that you’re doing this for the both of your sakes. You are not going to back down.

And then his mouth is on yours, and fucking stars explode.

You lose your surroundings completely: where you are, who you’re with, what fucking day it is. Rhys’s mouth is much softer than you imagined with all of the coarse language you know he spits on the ice.

You can taste the warmth of whiskey on his lips and you want to drown in it. He’s addicting, even more so when shivers rattle down your spine in pleasure when his tongue traces the seam of your mouth.

When you’re about to part your lips for him, a loud, forced cough steals your attention. You pull away and everything slams back into your full-force: the party, the people watching you, cheering for you, and your roommate and best friend, who looks less than impressed with your display of affection with her cousin.

Your heart that’s pounding in your chest because of the feeling of Rhys on your mouth turns into a pounding of guilt. You break Rhys’ heady gaze, quickly finding your spot back in the circle. You have the urge to straighten your shirt and fix your hair, like you’ve been caught doing something much worse than sharing an innocent kiss.

Except, that there was nothing about that kiss that felt innocent at all.

You keep your eyes averted, trying not to squeeze your legs shut to stifle the need for pleasure that aches between them. Fuck.

“(Y/N)?” Cassian sing-songs. Rhys shoots daggers at his friend. He doesn’t give a fuck about the game anymore, more worried about you and how you won’t meet his gaze. That kiss was fucking something, that’s for sure, and he can’t help but to run his tongue across his lips, chasing the taste of you. “It’s your turn.”

“Right,” you agree, pressing forward to reach for the bottle. You try not to remember the image of you doing the same only moments ago when you were reaching the distance to kiss Rhys, but the memory flashes in your head anyway, your cheeks going red hot.

The bottle spins and spins and your shoulders drop when it lands on Balthazar. You don’t know him all that well, and when he picks truth, you give him something easy.

“Have you ever cheated on a test?” You ask, lamely. All you want to do is get out of this circle, down another drink, and go home. The feeling of Rhysand’s lips still buzzes against yours, and it reverberates between your legs. If you could go home, you could…

“Yeah,” he admits, like it’s something everyone does. He reaches forward and spins the bottle, and freezes when it lands on Gwyn.

Her eyes are as wide as saucers. Her bottom lip is tucked between her teeth as she nervously thinks over her options. You and Mor share a look, both noticing how flighty she looks. Gwyn looks like she might just spring up from the circle and bolt out of here, and you can’t say that you wouldn’t be right behind her. You’re more than ready to be in the privacy of your own room.

“Truth or dare, Gwyn?”

“Dare,” she says softly, barely able to be heard over the music and chatter of the party. Balthazar hears, though, or perhaps he reads her lips because he’s staring at her so intently that you feel like you’re intruding on something.

You wonder what made her choose dare, like doing whatever he comes up with is the lesser of two evils. It’s clear that something is going on between the two of them, but you’ve never heard a peep about either of them knowing each other. Maybe they share a class?

Whatever it is, you’re entirely intrigued.

“I dare you to tell me why you won’t look at me.”

The circle goes deathly silent, which isn’t all that silent at all with the music shaking the walls of the house. But the small circle…when she finally raises her eyes to meet his, it’s like walls have shot up around all of you, like you’re on the field of the colosseum and Gwyn and Balth are the warriors ready to fight for to the death.

You’ve never been surer that you’re intruding on something you shouldn’t be in your entire life. From across the circle, Rhys shoots you a look just as confused as you feel. You shrug, you have no idea what’s going on, and it’s all you can do to watch.

Gwyn doesn’t respond. It’s a stare off between the two of them, with her icy blue eyes glaring at him and him staring right back, brows furrowed in a hurt confusion.

She doesn’t answer. Gwyn climbs to her feet and threads her way into the crowd without a second glance, like Balthazar should know exactly why she finds it difficult to look at him. You can’t help it, you watch his face as soon as Gwyn’s red hair leaves your sight, watching the hurt flash across his eyes before he sits back in his spot in defeat.

“What?” He asks, lamely. “It’s not like I asked her to kiss me or anything.” Balthazar laughs drily, more than done with this game.

And neither do you. Whatever just happened, you’re more concerned about your roommate. You get to your feet, gauge how you feel with the few tequila pineapple juices you’ve had, before you follow after your roommate.

_________________________________________

Over Ice Taglist:

@saltedcoffeescotch @acourtofbatboydreams @mrsjna @velarisdusk @bionic-donut @tenshis-cake @eleganttravelercloud @lilah-asteria @serena05 @bwormie @soph1644 @house-husband-of-castlemurdock @tothestarsandwhateverend @topaz125 @judig92 @se7enteen--black-blog @thecraziestcrayon @cherry-cin @itsinherited @justafictionalnerd @bookishbroadwaybish @405rry @itsinherited @w0nderw0manly

[ma1dita]

🐥hey babe, thoughts on sirius x reader during hogwarts years? sirius is known for being a huge playboy and reader's a gryffindor and good friends with all the gryffindor girls n marauders. think (best) friends to lovers? he's going out with all these girls all the time searching for a connection and physical affection, but doesn't realize that he has feelings for her until he sees her with another guy (asked to hogsmeade, hanging out at a party, slug club, etc). love ya <33

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

sirius black x reader

a/n: for my lovely nini!! i hope you like it LOL sirius was always hard for me to write

wc: 1.5k

—

Sirius Black has everything he’s ever wanted in life.

It’s a bold statement to claim at 17, but after leaving his hellhole of a house, getting good ol’ Uncle Alphard’s inheritance of gold with enough to swim in at Gringotts if he so wishes, and having the best of mates he also has the privilege of calling his family— some may ask what’s next for him, and that’s what he’s trying to figure out too.

Everything will be easy from now on, he thinks— smoothing down his hair and spritzing some cologne while he gets ready to find another girl to get under so that his weekend will have some merit.

“Looking good, Pads,” James grins from his bed as he tosses a quaffle back and forth between him and Peter. The impish boy almost gets nailed in the face, huffing, “Who’s it this time? The girl from Ravenclaw? What’s her name again—Venetia? Violet?”

“Something like that…”

Sirius straightens out his shirt collar and flicks off a speck of imaginary lint from his shoulder—there’s physically nothing wrong with him, but something is still missing.

The door opens with a bang and you brush past him like a hurricane, the boys cheering at your arrival.

“Pretty girl, give us a twirl!” James hollers, and Remus gets up from his bed to spin you around as you giggle with your dress twirling in the wind.

“M’gonna be late because of you lot!” you grin, grabbing James’ bottle of Sleakeasy’s off his dresser and sidling up next to your best friend who’s silent as he stares at you through the mirror with amusement in his eyes.

“What?” you mumble, cheeks flushing as you lather the potion between your fingers to smooth it into your hair, “Can’t let you be the only pretty one around here, Pads.” He’s pulling on the fabric of your dress teasingly, inspecting you from head to toe, “Mhm, and who exactly are you going on a date with, lovie?”

“None of your business! Don’t want any of you boys meddling,” you say exasperatedly, elbowing him when he laughs, and Peter yells out in protest from the floor behind you. You squeeze Sirius’ shoulder, looking at the both of you in the mirror and noticing that his silvery eyes are still glued to you, cool as steel.

“Do I look bad? Borrowed it from Mary, but it doesn’t really fit me as well as it fits her, no?”

He notices the low cut of your dress and the way it frames your body just as well as he can draw it from memory—from the curve of your collarbones to the plush of your hip it certainly doesn’t leave much to his imagination, he’s just never seen you like this before. Sirius is blatantly ogling you now, and Remus throws a pillow at his head sending every perfectly combed piece of hair in different directions. He doesn’t even move to fix it, his breath growing quicker the more he takes you in.

“Lucky bloke. You’d look pretty even if you wore a sackcloth though,” he mumbles, eyes unseeing when you reach up to smooth his strands with a gentle smile. Sirius moves closer so you can reach, lips grazing against the powder blush you applied on your cheek— though if he got any closer he might’ve felt the heat reverberating from your skin. His finger plays with the tie at your bosom, almost in hesitation, or was it contemplation?

When does Sirius ever hesitate to do anything?

“This dress is just….hmmm…”

“What? Making me nervous… Is it too much?” You turn away to ask the other boys, who watch the two of you dance around each other like an old Muggle film Remus’ mum would send them to watch (Hope Lupin wants to teach these boys a thing or two about how to woo women in a respectful, romantic manner, mind you).

“A bit,” Sirius swallows, pulling at his shirt collar like it’s suddenly hard to breathe. Behind you, Peter grips at his hair almost comically while Remus throws his face into a book and sighs. James is watching through his fingers, eyes darting between the two of you two in anticipation. Groaning, you jab at his torso, taking out the rest of the air in his lungs (though he tries not to choke when he pulls you in and feels the smooth skin of your thighs as your dress rides up in the struggle).

“Shut up, you tosser! And I better not see any of you in Hogsmeade later trying to ruin my date—I actually have high hopes for this one…” you giggle, tossing your head against your best friends’ shoulder as you look at the varying faces of shock that surround you.

“Who said we were going to meddle?”

“Us?”

“We’re good boys, doll, we’d never!”

Sirius’ voice rings clearer over the rest of the Marauders as he whispers in your ear, “My girl’s looking forward to a date? Who would’ve thought….”

You spin in his arms and correct him, one arm wrapped around his neck and the other playing with a button on his shirt, “Your best girl…I’m allowed to have fun too, Pads!”

“That you are.”

He presses a kiss to your temple, inhaling the perfume you spritz on for special occasions and feeling like he’s lost you already even before you walk out the door. You send him off on dates all the time with an encouraging smile on your face. So why is it that after you leave the boys watch him flop into his bed and stare at the ceiling?

Sirius could’ve been there for hours for all he knows— ignoring the boys when they tell him they’re going to badger your date at Hosgmeade, unmoving when his date (who’s name turned out to be Vina) banged on his door for skipping out on her, he laid there, arms crossed and brooding. It’s like nothing made sense anymore.

You come tiptoeing into his room with your heels in hand a little before dinner, pulling back the curtains of his poster bed whispering, “Pads? You okay? What happened to your date?”

Sirius rolls over, looking at your wide eyes glinting in the candlelight, “What happened to yours?” he counters.

“It was okay. The boys sent a Bat-Bogey Hex to my date and snot landed in my butterbeer. He thought it was weird when I laughed.”

“M’sorry, lovie,” he sighs, grasping your hand over his duvet and playing with the rings on your fingers.

“S’okay! Don’t wanna be with someone without a sense of humor. Grown man that can’t take a prank. How awful is that?” you grin, before slapping his thigh, “Move over, I’m coming in.” There should be nothing special about the way you easily find your place against his body, molding against his form in both of your wrinkled dress clothes but Sirius can’t help nuzzling against the crown of your head, pressing a kiss to your scalp like it’s second nature.

“Why didn’t you go on your date? Heard Vina almost set the common room on fire.”

He doesn’t have an answer to that, nor the way he questions why his heart is beating faster when you draw stars along his spine.

“D’you at least have a good time today? Looking so pretty and all,” he whispers, pulling your chin up so you can look at each other eye to eye.

“Rem said you weren’t feeling well, so I had one foot out the door the entire time. Besides he was boring. Much rather spend time with you here,” you say like it’s nothing of the sort. Shiny lips press a pink kiss onto his nose. Your lipgloss smells like strawberries, leaving a mark on his aristocratic features.

“Doing nothing?”

“Mhm. Already having more fun, aren’t you?” you breathe out a laugh into his neck, unknowing of the way he looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky. He comes to the realization then that there’s no other place he’d rather be without you by his side. Nothing’s missing, or wrong with him—he has all he needs as long as you’re pressed against him like this, fingers in your hair and legs tangled under the bedspread.

“I didn’t want to go on my date because I wanted to be with you today,” he whispers into the air. You don’t freeze or jolt back like he expects you to, instead pursing your lips against his jaw.

“Yeah?”

“Is that okay?” he mutters, closing his eyes with the feeling that he’s said something awful, shoulders tensing like how they would when his mother would turn the corner.

“Why wouldn’t it be okay? Siri…” you sigh, grabbing his face to look at you and when he opens his eyes, you suddenly know.

“I don’t know how to do this,” Sirius says shakily, putting his hands over yours in case you’re an apparition or want to leave. There’s a space in his heart that’s in the shape of you, and you smile at him like he wasn’t in on the joke, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“S’okay. You have me.”

And he nods, knowing that’s all he needs.

[beautiful-mezz]

Ever since the wedding event of the jp server I been thinking about about the nicknames Floyd gave the characters now I’m in the en server and I didn’t play the event and this is based on rough translation I read spoilers ahead any how during the event riddle complains about his nickname and how he’s seen like a gold fish later on we mama leech explains the nickname and how it isn’t that bad in summary he’s compared to the goldfish when set free in the sea they grow extremely large which perfectly describes the situation riddle is in how riddle is trapped by himself and his mother and how he could only grow if becomes more loose and free and the same thing with malleus and how he’s compared to a sea slug and not only does fit his appearance but him as a person like how sea slugs are friendly until messed with which fits malleus perfectly he’s very nice until messed with. Now all of this proves that Floyd doesn’t just pick the names based on appearance only but also on the person they are which makes go back to yuu’s nickname “shrimpy” aka a shrimp now it’s is proven yuu can be anyone and it doesn’t matter how they look like tall, short, chubby, skinny ect and this proves something critical that Floyd’s nickname isn’t based on the way they look like but rather who they are now every yuu is different and this is shown in the manga very well how some of them yet all of them have the same nickname “shrimpy” which made me realize something shrimp is a small see creatures usually a target for predators which if you think about actually fits the situation yuu is in a magicless student in a prestigious school of magic with a bunch of strong mages and hotshots in my opinion yuu fits as a perfect target a lost human with no where to go and no actual protection and no matter how strong yuu is physically it’s hard to compete with a student with magic in other words yuu is seen by most as a defenseless and lost student who has a hard time saying no and this proven because yuu is always helping grim and others no matter how badly they mess up this makes a perfect target like how a shrimp is.

[midniqhtt]

theodore nott

masterlist • slytherin boys • 03/27/25

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · ୨ৎ recs two

theodore nott one

𑣲 voodoo doll I @moonpascal

theo can’t get you out of his head. which could only mean you put a spell on him.

𑣲 you’re the closest to heaven i’ll ever be I @amiableness

Reader is getting hit on and Theo is not a fan.

𑣲 only me I @/amiableness

Desperate to get a persistent girl off his back, Enzo and reader kiss. But when the kiss unexpectedly turns heated, Theo loses it.

𑣲 peonies part 2 part 3 I @/amiableness

Reader is devastated when Mattheo gets a girlfriend and asks Theo to help her get over him.

𑣲 withdrawal I @writingsbychlo

theo decides to quit smoking, but doesn’t realise that his decision would affect his girlfriend, too.

𑣲 the best love stories I @/writingsbychlo

theo is in love and doesn’t want to have to hide it.

𑣲 through the wringer I @dramaticals

theo tries to get your attention by spoiling you with gifts. you pretend not to notice the shift just to mess with him.

𑣲 untimely revelations I @/dramaticals

you and theo are at a slug club party and theo has an unfortunate revelation (he likes you).

𑣲 daisy chains I @/dramaticals

daisy chains mean a lot to you, and theo makes you one to tell you how he feels.

𑣲 jealously’s game I @raekensluver

plotting to make your ex jealous at a party, you pick the last person anyone could expect.

𑣲 stalker!theo I @nottsangel

𑣲 drug dealer!theo I @/nottsangel

𑣲 cockwarming!theo I @/nottsangel

𑣲 that’s what i said I @slytherinslut0

your boyfriend was telling you about his day, when he began speaking fluent Italian, knowing damn well you only knew select words. when you asked him to repeat it, he had you come sit on his lap and ended up doing a little more than just repeating it

𑣲 size kink I @/slytherinslut0

there’s a rumor going around that theodore nott has a big dick….why not see it for yourself?

𑣲 lonely I @evergone

The reader has no friends until destiny (in the form of a boy named Theodore Nott) does everything to make her feel like she belongs.

𑣲 devil eyes I @theostrophywife

𑣲 theo surprises you in the prefect bathroom I @motherearthlovesus

𑣲 buried in books I @strangled-slytherin

Theo finds you asleep on your books in the library after a long night of studying and insists on taking care of you.

𑣲 whoopsie I @bunny-1111

You can't help your clumsiness, but when you land with a bruise on your face, you're reminded that your boyfriend Theo really hates to see you hurt.

𑣲 thin ice I @mommynott

Your friends drag you to a hockey game, but halfway through you lock eyes with Theo. You can’t help but feel a strong pull toward him. Deciding to shoot your shot with the player.

𑣲 hot tub I @lov3notts

Theo can't keep his hands off you after seeing you in a swim suit, but lack the privacy to really show you how much craves you, I guess the the hot tub will do for now

𑣲 theo dozing off I @illbegottenfaith

[in1-nutshell]

IN1-NUTSHELL DROP TFONE OPHELIA AND MY LIFE IS YOURS!!!!

Introducing TFONE Ophelia!

Hope you enjoy!

TF1 Version of Ophelia

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Mention of injury, Angst, Cybertronian reader

TF1

It was rare for a sparkling to end up down in the mines.

Most who did ended up running away or getting crushed.

The ‘luckier’ ones were found by supervisors and taken away.

None of the miners ever saw them again.

But this one was special.

Not just because they were probably one of the smallest sparklings they had ever seen.

But because they had lifted up a full cart of energon over their helm and threw it.

The miners were vaguely aware that 1 percenters existed, but never actually seen one.

There was no telling what the supervisors would do.

For once, the miners agreed to keep the 1 percenter with them.

Maybe they would help out around when they got older and taller.

Strength was needed in the mines.

After a bit of babysitting, the sparkling finally found the bots she liked the most.

Two miners, D-16 and Orion Pax.

Well, more D-16, but Orion was always with him, so they were a package deal.

D does not know why the sparkling chose him, but he isn’t complaining.

She could fit in his servo easy, adorable optics and the cutest smile he had ever seen.

Orion was also her favorite.

Orion was the bot who actively played with her.

It was a little rough for D’s liking.

D-16 walking into the hall. D-16: “Orion I need—PAX WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?” The sparkling was on top of one of the higher bunks with Orion at the bottom with his servos ready to catch the sparkling if she fell. Orion: “Relax D, she’s just a bit curious.” D-16: “That does not explain why she is so high! Move I’m getting her!” Orion grabs D’s shoulder. Orion: “Ophelia’s fine D, but you scaring her is going to make her fall.” D-16: “Ophelia?” Orion: “Yeah, I tried out some names while you were out. She seems to like that name. Isn’t that right Ophelia!” Ophelia’s helm turned to the two bots and immediately starts chirping at them both happily. D-16: “I was thinking on Maxima or Ironhold… but Ophelia does sound better.” Orion puffs his chassis a bit with pride as he goes to pick up the sparkling and giving her to D. D-16 smiles at her. D-16: “You miss me, Ophelia?” Ophelia: “D!” Both mech’s jump at the sound. Orion: “Did she just…” Ophelia: “D! D! D!” D-16 smiles even more, cuddling the sparkling closer to his chassis.

As the years passed by, Ophelia grew a bit before stopping shortly around their knee joints.

Safe to say it was official, Ophelia was a minibot.

As she grew older, she ended up persuading D, and Orion to let her help out with the mines.

She wanted to help.

Elita soon caught wind of this and immediately took the mini under her wing and squad.

Minibot or not, Ophelia was a 1 percenter and could help in big ways.

Ophelia ended up working with cargo placements and on the occasion helped with the entrance of tunnels collapsing.

Give the minibot a jetpack and a sturdy rock, she could stabilize the tunnel’s entrance for almost a whole minute before crashing down.

D hated whenever she had those jobs.

Even more when supervisors ordered it and not Elita.

Elita at least understood that Ophelia had limitations, the guards couldn’t care less.

Ophelia and D end up teaming up on Orion many times whenever he tries to bring up some sort of crazy idea.

In response, Orion brings the minibot with him.

D has near spark attacks when this happens.

D-16 is standing in front of Orion and Ophelia; his arms crossed and had a disappointed look on his face. D-16: “I told you both going after those slugs was more trouble than what it’s worth.” Ophelia: “But—” D-16 look makes her stop. The mech’s attention turns to Orion. D-16: “She could have gotten hurt Pax. She’s still a youngling and doesn’t know any better.” Orion: “I was watching her D. Do you think I’d let something bad happen to her?” D-16: “Its not that I don’t trust you—” Orion: “Then what is it?” D-16: “I’m just worried my daughter is going to pick up your bad influence of jumping off building and messing with protocol!” The words sink in for all three bots. Ophelia: “…Do… do you really see me like that D?” D-16 considers lying for a second but decides against it. D-16: “Yes… I understand if—OOF!” Ophelia, though barely reaching the bots knee joints, hugged his legs tightly. D-16 blinks before gently rubbing her helm with his servo. Orion: “Primus I wish I could take a picture. This is adorable.” D-16: “And you ruined the moment.”

From then on, D-16 makes it a rule that if Ophelia were to go with Orion, to let him know.

He knows roughly about half of the outings.

Orion just wants some quality time with his niece, trying to get her out of her shell.

Orion while he goes through the archives, always brings back data slugs or chips on Cybertron’s history for Ophelia.

Even picks up little Megatronus Prime or Micronus Prime decals.

The day of the race arrives.

Ophelia was told to go find some seats by D before the pair left.

She never makes it to the stands because she gets called to the cargo hold to help load some cargo.

Ophelia stops her work seeing the screen with her father and uncle in the race.

Her optics do not leave the screen.

Too bad she couldn’t see the rest of it before someone pushed her into a nearby trash shoot.

Screaming all the way down while trying to grab onto something.

She was stuck in the scrap until something pulled her out.

It was a yellow bot, not too older than her.

He was just as surprised as her seeing a bot down here.

Ophelia explained that she needed to get back to her family.

The bot, B-127, suggested waiting for a supervisor, but they rarely came down to sublevel 50.

Ophelia, feeling literally down in the dumps, figured talking to him wouldn’t be so bad.

After a couple of hours there is more crashing.

B-127 keeps Ophelia behind him as he goes to look.

It was Orion and D-16.

Ophelia spots them and runs over. Ophelia: “Dad! Orion!” Ophelia jumps straight into D’s arms hugging him. D-16: “Ophelia? What are you doing here?” Orion: “How did you get down here?” B-127: “She said some bot upstairs pushed her in. Hi! I’m Ophelia’s friend! I’m B-127!”

Alpha Trion’s message is found and the quest to the surface has been made.

Ophelia, as much as she was scared of the surface, put on a brave face and claimed she wanted to go.

D-16, surprisingly agrees, but it wasn’t like he was going to leave her by herself.

Ophelia clings between D and Orion’s back.

She is clinging for dear life during the entirety of the train scene.

Only let’s go and stands up like everyone else once they all reach the surface.

Then the mountain starts coming to the train.

B picks up Ophelia like a football and runs.

Everyone gets flung from the train.

B-127, D-16, Elita and Orion groan as they stand up and get ready to follow the map. D-16 suddenly looks around. D-16: “Wait! Where’s Ophelia!?” Ophelia: “Up here!” The group looks up to one of the taller rock formations. Ophelia is clinging on the edge to dear life. D-16: “Ophelia!” B-127: “How did you get up there?” Ophelia: “I grew a T-cog and turns out I’m a Seeker.” B-127: “Really?” Ophelia: “OBVIOUSLY NOT! SOMEONE GET ME DOWN FROM HERE!”

It takes a good couple of minutes to get her down.

Reveal of the Quintessons.

Grips D’s servo a bit too hard as Orion and B nearly get caught by the scanner.

Finding the Prime’s.

Ophelia consoles D as they both kneel in front of the fallen helm of Megatronus Prime.

Meeting Alpha Trion.

Witnessing what happened to the Primes and what Sentinel had been doing.

Ophelia stays by Alpha Trion’s side when D talks about off-lining Sentinel.

It got her a bit nervous.

Floored when she hears about Sentinel stealing their cogs and in return, they all get cogs.

Going downhill, everyone is trying out their transformations. D-16: “How do we use these things!” Ophelia tries using her cog. She feels something happening. Ophelia: “I think I got—” CLANK! Ophelia’s helm got tucked in. Ophelia: “I CAN’T SEE!” Orion in the same position: “ME NEITHER!”

Ophelia is still small (she got Micronus’s cog) but could feel the cog in her chassis.

Transforms into a small rover.

Feels something wrong with her father the way he talked slowly to Orion.

Reassures Orion that she would fix him.

The group gets kidnapped by the High Guard.

Fangirls with B seeing and naming each guard member she can see.

Screams when D starts fighting Starscream.

She ended up getting pushed and shoved everywhere until a pair of servos picked her up.

It was Soundwave.

He had perched her up on his shoulder so she could have a better view.

She didn’t know whether to be grateful or not seeing the canon now shoved at Starscream’s face.

She shared the same scared look that Orion had.

Arachnid and her army arrived.

Ophelia fair well, catching many bots off guard with her strength.

Even managing to save some of the High Guard’s members in the process.

But ultimately gets tased and captured with D and B.

Ophelia is placed with much heavier sets of cuffs than the energy binds the others had.

Internally screaming for D to get back down once he stands up.

Sentinel is about to slap him, until his optics land on her.

The Prime roughly grabs her by the back of the neck cables and drags her to the front of the room.

Ophelia tries to raise her helm, but a harsh punch sends it back down.

D yells and tries to get her.

He is restrained.

Ophelia’s audials are a bit muffled, but the distinct sound of a sword being retracted is clear.

The Prime enjoys brandishing his sword and letting it drag slowly to the shaking minibot.

D-16: “Leave her out of this Sentinel! She has nothing to do with this!” Sentinel raises his sword. Sentinel: “Oh but my Dear D-16. In my perfect world, there is no need for 1 percenters.” The false Prime then goes to strike. D-16: “NO!” The sword had stopped centimeters away from her face. The sword instead cuts her bindings. Ophelia tries to stand on her bad pede. D-16: “Wh-what?” Sentinel: “I’m letting her go.” The crowd looked at him in surprise. Ophelia finally manages to stand up straight. Sentinel: “Kidding!” With that Sentinel Prime kicked the minibot with full force out the balcony. It happened so fast no one heard the minibot scream. D-16: “OPHELIA!”

Ophelia falls out of the balcony and straight to the city below.

D yells in anguish as he sees Ophelia disappear from view and more when Sentinel brandishes him.

Thankfully, Ophelia had managed to stick a servo on the side of a nearby building, stopping her rough decent.

Her servos and pedes were dented but at least she was alive.

She tried to climb back up but nearly fell again as the building shook.

Did a train crash into it?

She tries climbing again but spots two other figures fall out.

It was D and Sentinel.

With enough bravery that would make Orion proud, she jumped on the false Prime’s back as the three of them began to tumble down.

Ophelia made sure to punch holes straight into his dense armor.

Suddenly she was flung backwards and into the sea of spectators.

She looked up and briefly made eye contact with D, who looked so relief before a murderous look overcame him.

He started for the Prime.

What could she do?

Ophelia tried to make her way to the stage when Orion had arrived to intervene.

She stared in horror as D-16 shot to Sentinel before Orion took the hit.

Ophelia couldn’t believe what was happening.

But thankfully D was there to catch him.

Everything was going to be okay.

…

Ophelia didn’t remember screaming, nor did she remember hitting several bots feet away as they tried to get her from going to close to the edge.

She followed Elita and B to try and stop him from doing any more harm after ripping Sentinel in half.

After naming himself Megatron.

The blast from Optimus’s ascension made her go back into the crowd with Elita and B.

Ophelia tried to run back to Megatron and Optimus, but the crowds were panicked and wild.

She was even lucky enough to remain in one piece.

The minibot witnessed Optimus banishing Megatron from Iacon.

She could see the slight tears coming from Megatron’s face.

To witness him call the High Guard to follow him.

No mentions of her name.

Not even an attempt to ask where she was.

A part of Ophelia wanted to go with him.

Of course she did, he was still her Dad.

She didn’t want to leave him alone.

… But somewhere deep in her spark told her to stop.

Not to take another step.

…Ophelia could only hope that listening to the feeling was the right thing…

Later that evening Ophelia was walking past her old recharging station. She carefully traced the Megatronus decal on D-16’s pod. Optimus: “Ophelia?” Ophelia jumped a bit, not used to Orion—no, Optimus’s voice. Ophelia: “Optimus.” The Prime stood next to her, both looking sadly at the decals. Ophelia couldn’t take it anymore and crumbled on the ground letting out a sob. Optimus knelt and scooped her into his arms. Ophelia knew she probably dented the new Prime’s frame a bit with her hug, but right now she didn’t care. Ophelia: “I want him back! I want him back! Orion please!” The minibot could feel the Prime’s tears on her helm and a gently shake. Maybe someday he would come back… Meanwhile Megatron had finished his little shrine in his habsuite. A shrine for Ophelia. His sparkling that was murdered by the Prime. Megatron whispers: “Sleep well Ophelia. We will meet again; I swear to you.”

[sadhours]

the diner - part one

billy hargrove x fem!reader

cw: 18+ minors dni, stalking, murder, toxic relationship, trauma, hallucinations, flayed!billy, peeping Tom, masturbation briefly mentioned, horror

He survived. Somehow— someway. Billy survived. Took care of what he should have so long ago. But that monster lingers, still alive within him.

You’re an innocent girl who works next door to him and he can’t help himself. Could you help him or is he too sick?

read on ao3

part two

Rain slips down, leaving clean streaks across the scum splattered front window of the shop. It’s deep into the evening, town’s asleep except for the truck stop directly next door. Bright lights illuminating the gas pumps, convenience store and the 50’s style diner. The one you work at.

And in the darkness of Route One Garage, Billy stands at the window. Watching. Eyes following as your hair bobs up and down with your steps as you run around the diner. Taking orders, filling coffee cups, carrying hot plates of greasy food made on grills cleaned less often than the health department wants. He’s eaten there, knows you can taste the filth in the food. But it’s the only place to get food this late for miles. The place is full of truckers, different faces but they might as well be the same copy of a person. In and out all day long. Billy’s seen the way they talk to you, been witness to it and just sat there with his blood boiling. Didn’t do anything about it because he’s a pussy and also, because you don’t know him. Sure, he comes in semi-regularly but he doesn’t really talk to you. He can’t for some reason. But before he moved to this teeny, shithole of a place, Billy wasn’t like this. He could talk to any woman. You didn’t look at him like most women did, though.

He watches you like this almost every night. Every night you’re there. Fantasizes about the things he wants to do to you. Sometimes those things are questionable, violent even but sometimes they’re just fantasies of talking to you— making you fall in love.

But he did something that woke up these dark demons deep in him. Well, two things.

Billy still has visions of the shape shifting monster. Haunts his dreams. Recalls each time he led an innocent person to the monster. Regretted not leading his father to the monster. So when he crawled out of the slimy, pulsing portal. He found his dad. Did what he’d always been too weak to do. Billy wonders if that monster still possesses him. If there’s still some of those black, gunky slugs in his stomach. Puked them up for weeks, it felt like.

But he’s thousands of miles from Hawkins. Though it feels like part of him is still contaminated. Made him reclusive, awkward, scarred up. Maybe that’s why he’s scared to talk to you. He knows he doesn’t look like he used to. His hair’s longer, his eyes are darker, his body has starfish shaped scars patterned all over. That charm has been evacuated. He’s not as suave.

Obsessive. That’s how he is now and he knows it but he can’t stop himself.

Billy knows where you work, he knows what you drive and he knows where you live. He has the name of your boss, your parents and your ex boyfriend. He’s followed you to the dive bar in town, walked around the general store and kept his eye on you and the things you buy. He’s full blown stalking you. It’s not his fault, though. That monster gave him this sickness and this town gave him loneliness. A recipe for disaster.

And you’re just so fucking pretty. The way your face lights up when you smile stains his eyes when he closes them. If he focuses hard enough he can hear your voice. Same script over and over.

“Hey, how’s it going?”

“Shop busy, today?”

“Usual tonight?”

“Coffee, eggs over easy, hash browns , extra bacon and sausage, right?”

“Want some more coffee?”

“Anything else tonight? Maybe some apple pie?”

“Ya sure? It’s really good apple pie, I promise.”

“I’ll just get your check, then.”

Sometimes Billy can finish when he’s thinking about those words. Which is sick and he knows that but he feels like he can’t help himself. Wonders what you think of him. You’re not a bitch or anything but you don’t ever look at him like girls used to look at him. Nothing like the moms laid out by the pool. Not like you think he’s good looking but like he’s any other face you see. Which infuriates him but makes him sad about himself more than anything. Occasionally he looks at himself in the mirror until he feels sick. Until he sees his dad. Tells himself he needs a haircut, needs to shave the mustache. Sleep more so he can lose the bags under his eyes. Maybe you’d look at him differently.

The lights flicker, buzz loud enough he can hear it in the shop. He leaves. Locks up the place and his boots take him to the diner. To the same booth he always sits in. Lights up a smoke and meets your eyes from across the place. You don’t flush the way girls used to. In fact, Billy can’t register any kind of reaction on your face. So he flicks his ash on the floor because you’ll have to sweep it up and it feels like he won. Won what? He doesn’t really know, but he wants you to clean up his mess. Gives him some kind of satisfaction.

The script starts when you walk up. A variation of it.

“Late tonight,” you say, filling up his coffee cup without asking. “Must be busy.”

“Sure,” he says. Always keeps it short because you don’t meet his eyes and he can’t meet yours. Instead he stares at your hands, pretty fingers wrapped around the carafe’s handle.

You walk away. To put the coffee away he guesses. Stares at the mug, wraps his own fingers around it and takes a careful sip. His eyes find you behind the counter, giving a look of disdain to your coworker who said something and then you grin. Laugh at whatever she said to you. Then you’re back at his booth and his eyes fall to the table as the script resumes.

“Usual?”

“Yeah.”

“Eggs over easy, hash browns, extra bacon and sausage,” you recite from memory and Billy gets a bit of satisfaction from it. Proud of you for some reason.

“You remember,” he says, low and steady.

You scoff and chuckle, the sound makes his thighs tighten and you say, “Kind of hard to forget it. You’ve never changed it.”

Bold for some reason, he replies, “Maybe I should.”

“We do have a whole six pages on that menu. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you open it, though,” you offer and this is new. It’s off script. Both you and him.

Billy smirks, flips open the menu and peers down at the first page. It’s greasy, a stain of sticky jam at the top left corner and he immediately catches a typo. He purses his lips and continues to flick through it. You pull the notepad from your apron but he’s too nervous to look up at your face. He flips another page and then, finally, looks up at your face.

“What do you like?”

You look shocked. He likes that.

“Uh,” you laugh, a soft little sound and Billy’s skin is hot. “Our patty melt is pretty damn good.”

He closes the menu, slides to the end of the table as he replies, “I’ll have that then.”

“Wow, you’re full of surprises tonight,” you quip, “Fries or potato salad.”

“Why don’t you give me a surprise,” Billy says and then looks away because you’re too fucking gorgeous and he’s on a roll. Kind of feels like his old self right now and looking at you would fuck that up.

You pick up the menu and laugh again, “Sure thing.”

You walk away and he takes a hit of his neglected cigarette, ash falling to the table as he does so. Another mess of his for you to clean. Makes his whole body tingle at the thought. You don’t check on him before his food is done. But Billy keeps checking on you, eyes bouncing up to follow you as you work. Finishes his cigarette and coffee. Takes in the uniform you’re in. The big, bold name on the pin clasped into your blouse.

When you bring his food, you ask, “Got anymore surprises for me tonight?” and his mind runs wild. Sick fantasies. Ideas that make him feel guilty and the charm he’d felt after years slips far, far away.

“No.”

But you say, “Good. Don’t wanna overwhelm me too much.”

You fill his coffee again and walk away. Then he eats and the script resumes as normal. He pays. Sits in his car until all the lights in the diner shut off. Watches you walk to your car, waits a beat after you drive off before he starts his car and follows you. To your house. Keeps waiting until you go inside to park behind your car on the street and watch the numerous lights flick on and off. Aiding in him as he imagines exactly how your night plays out. He thinks you go into the kitchen first. Maybe you get a drink, perhaps a beer. When he’s followed you to the bar, he’s seen you drink beer. Then that lights flicks off and the TV turns on. Can see the variety of brightness and colors through the window. He thinks of what you might watch. Imagines sitting on the couch with you, cuddled up. His thoughts get perverted quickly and before he knows it, he’s staring at your window with his dick in his hand with the fantasy of your mouth on him.

After he finishes, he’s still watching. Until the changing lights of the TV go black and a different light turns on. Bathroom. That window is small. You brush your teeth, maybe wash your face. He takes this time to get out of his car, walk to the window on the side of the house, crouch down and peer through the broken blinds. Your bedroom. You turn the light on, back to the bathroom to turn that light off and return. Close your door and undress. You sleep nude but you keep a robe next to your bed. You flick off the light. Sink into bed and Billy stays for a while. Until he knows you’re asleep. He thinks about sneaking inside but he hasn’t gathered the gusto to do so yet. The whole watching you through the window is new enough. But he’ll escalate soon. Won’t be able to help himself.

Then Billy goes home. Back to his shady little apartment. Falls asleep on the couch with infomercials playing on the TV. He’ll wake up and do the same thing again tomorrow.

—

Dark tendrils wrap around his wrists and ankles. Pull him in opposite directions. His eyes are wide open but his body feels paralyzed. He tries to scream but it’s gargled and there’s a monster limb attaching to his mouth, pulsing down his throat. Fills his belly with baby slugs. The sticky limb retreats him and the constraints on his ankles and wrists unravel and he’s shaking. Thrashing. Screaming. Crying. Pleading.

Then Billy’s awake, sits up straight and pants. Looks around his room and there’s nothing there. Just him and the mess of his belongings. He cries. Then he showers. Makes himself vomit and he sees no slugs. No sludge. Just the dinner and foamy beers he had. Billy showers, water so hot it burns— turns his skin patchy red and tingly. He vomits again. Watches the sick circle the drain. Cries some more. Feels the loneliest he’s ever been. Wonders why he can’t kill himself. Why he doesn’t have the strength to do that.

He’s up too early. Doesn’t work for another three hours. Billy paces his apartment. Chain smokes and pounds coffee. He briefly thinks of Maxine. Stalks over to his freezer and reaches in it for the bottle of vodka he keeps in there and guzzles some of it down. Drowns out Max. Maybe he should make sure you get to work safe. He has to do something. Anything.

The drive to your house is routine, but he doesn’t often do it in daylight. Can’t risk you seeing him, so Billy parks a couple houses down. Chain smokes while he waits and soon enough, you’re walking to your car.

[roseyisopodsart]

RE0, RE2R, and RE3R as LPS!

Why did I do all three? Tbh I was just on a roll 💀

Billy - either a black fluffy cat (#435 Persian) or a black dog (#92 is technically a Doberman but it’s a German Shepard model!)

Marcus - So LPS doesn’t have many bug/leech/slug options so I made Marcus a snail!! Except he wouldn’t be as slow-

Kevin D. - Penguin #389! The yellow belly is his vest!! And he looks like he’s wearing a helmet 🗣️‼️‼️

Leon - Collie #2452! Specifically cause of those brown ears and chest, mainly cause I envision him browning over time, like his hair in canon!

Ada - Shorthair cat #336! So cute, so sleek, so pretty!

Claire - Wolf(cat) #1953! I think she’d be more of a red tone, but the model reminds me of her sm

Sherry - Kitten #134! SHE’S JUST A BABY!!!

William B - Shorthair #73! Once again, the tired eyes convinced me.

Annette B - Persian #217! I was originally gonna make her a shorthair, but she just screams longhair cat to me!

Marvin - Scottie #23! I chose a Scottie cause Scottie dogs are known to be feisty, stubborn, but protective! Also he gets cool accessories cause Marvin’s the coolest here 😎

Elliot - He’d be this specific model of deer (reindeer?)! I couldn’t get the idea of him being a deer out of my head the moment I realized he looked like a deer in the headlights (BLINK ELLIOT BLINK!!!), but I wasn’t vibing with any of the regular deer and thats when I discovered these models! Also I couldn’t find the specific number because ofc I couldn’t 💀

Katherine - Maltese #79! At least I think its 79, this dog and another spaniel come up with the #79??? Anyways, she’d be this cutie!

Ben - So he’d either be a regular hedgehog…or this silly one with hair. Get it? Cause of his ponytail?

Kendo - Husky #174! He is so husky to me…

Emma - Puppy #1013! And her mama would be husky #1012 💖

Carlos - Sheepdog #1077! Too perfect! And YES, he needs the flower in his hair!!!!! I have this one 🤭

Tyrell - Jaguar #1419! Honestly, it’s another case of this specific LPS just reminds me of him! Plus, I was thinking of how there’s so many videos of jaguars lounging followed by them being expert hunters and Tyrell is a relaxed guy, but is obviously greatly skilled!

Nikolai - He was so hard to find an lps for. Looking through the different models and designs, but I landed on cat #9 (the hair sorta matches his) or Dane #184 (cause Nikolai’s second name is “The White Wolf” And I wasn’t too pleased with assigning him a cat)

Mikhail - Mikhail was also hard to choose for. Maybe a German Shepard or a Boxer?? But ofc white/grey

Murphy - Monkey #304 :] just monkey

[mixelation]

here's part of an itachi & karin fic i KNOW i posted here in 2021 but cannot find

i know i posted the first part. there's a bonus scene at the end that i don't think i posted?

warning for mild & canon-compliant suicidal ideation by the POV character (itachi)

xXx

The medic tells Itachi that the liquid filling his lungs and belaboring his breath can only be slowed, not fully dammed. She is the sixth medic to explain as much. She gives Itachi one of his worse prognoses yet: two years, maybe three. 

This medic is the first to offer a real solution. 

“No medical jutsu can cure you,” she says, “but have you heard about Grass’s miracle cure?”

It’s the first real ray of hope they’ve gotten besides, “I don’t know, maybe the Slug Princess?” Well, Kisame finds it hopeful. Itachi has long since resigned himself to a young death. 

Kisame leaves for two weeks to fetch the miracle cure. He comes back with a young girl. 

She can’t be more than eleven, and she has vivid red hair and eyes as red as Itachi’s own sharingan. There are no outward signs Kisame has hurt her, besides some chaffing from the binds around her wrists. Her clothes are dusty and her hair unkept with travel. 

She watches Itachi with wary eyes and doesn’t say a word. 

“Her name is Karin,” Kisame says. “That’s about all I got out of her.”

Kisame hadn’t been trying to get much out of her, of course. He’s not the interrogation specialist. Itachi kneels in front of Karin, pokes at her brain with his illusions, and compels her to tell him how to cure himself. 

“A bite,” she says. “Hard enough to draw blood. Just taking the blood won’t work; it has to be fresh, right out of the body.”

It’s cruel, Itachi thinks, for the world to allow such a bloodline limit to manifest in a child. 

“Can it cure disease?” he asks. 

“I don’t know,” Karin answers. “Maybe.”

Itachi hesitates only a moment before pulling her arm forward. His vision has been blurring lately, from his mangekyou ripping through his retinas. At the very least, this girl’s blood will allow him to read comfortably until his death. 

Karin doesn’t tense or panic as Itachi pulls her toward him, straightening her arm in front of him. Her eyes are resigned, and he doesn’t even need a genjutsu to calm her. 

Itachi rolls up her sleeve. Her arm is an entire battlefield of bitemarks. 

They’re all pink, fresh scars, in the perfect crescents of human bite marks. They go from her wrist all the way up to her elbow and likely continue up her sleeve. There is no part of her skin that Itachi could bite and not overlap with other bitemarks. 

He lets go of her arm and she keeps it outstretched, waiting. Her eyes are observant and tired, but unafraid. Itachi pushes her arm down and rolls up her other sleeve. This arm is the same. There’s even a bite mark across the fleshy part of her palm. 

Itachi considers himself a pacifist, but he is also a ninja. He recognizes violence is sometimes necessary, even directed against children. He’s not such a bleeding heart he wouldn’t bite this girl if he deemed it necessary. It wouldn’t even be close to the cruelest thing he’s done. 

“It’s worse if you make me wait,” Karin says. Her voice is hard. She, too, understands that violence is sometimes necessary. 

There are more bitemarks poking out from her collar. There’s one on her neck, barely hidden by her hair. He can see them now, this close to her, even with his fading vision.

You always had a kind heart, his mother said, right before he murdered her. 

Itachi doesn’t even know if he wants to live. 

He stands. 

“After you’ve rested,” he decides. “Kisame, when did she last eat?”

Akatsuki does not often take live captives. Itachi prefers it to outright murder; it’s perversely soothing to take care of someone, to make sure they’re healthy and safe instead of bleeding out at his feet. Karin doesn’t say another word as Itachi makes a fire and Kisame goes to hunt down some meat. She continues to be silent when Itachi sends a crow with her to bathe in a stream. 

She’s quiet, but her eyes are sharp. She watches them diligently. 

They don’t retie her restraints when they move out the next morning. The red sores on her wrists are already healed. 

Itachi plays at this-- at letting Karin “rest”-- for three days before Kisame confronts him. 

“So what if her village treated her like garbage?” Kisame asks. “It’s what villages do. You’d barely even be hurting her.”

“Did you leave Mist,” Itachi asks, “so that you could continue to treat comrades like garbage?”

Kisame rolls his eyes. Itachi has tried to play this card before, to stop senseless cruelty. 

“She’s not a comrade,” Kisame says. “Just bite her, and we can leave her to decide if she wants to go back to Grass or not.”

You always had a kind heart, his mother said, and Itachi thinks about her blank, dead eyes. 

Itachi dithers. He asks Karin to help him search for food, and they have wild onions with river fish for dinner. She doesn’t say a word. 

That night, Karin does something interesting. 

They’re camped out under a solitary tree in one of the endless fields in Rice Country, and Itachi is on first watch. He leans back against the trunk of the tree, watching the moon. It’s just past midnight when Karin suddenly sits up. 

She hasn’t been sleeping well, which is normal for captives, but she usually at least feigns sleep through the night. This night, she gets into a crouch, eyes darting around. 

“Something wrong?” Itachi asks. 

“Shinobi,” Karin says after some hesitation. “To the east. Four of them.”

It’s the first time she’s spoken to him since he refused to bite her. 

“How do you know?” Itachi asks. They sleep hidden under a genjutsu, so he’s not overly worried. He palms a kunai and stands anyway. 

“I just do,” Karin says eventually. She adds, “They’re heading this way.”

By now their conversation has woken Kisame up, and he crouches next to Karin, his shadow dwarfing her, his hand on Samehada’s hilt. 

“We haven’t caused any chaos in Rice lately,” Kisame says, grinning. “They probably aren’t looking for us.”

“Grass undoubtedly will look,” Itachi says blandly. Karin doesn’t react, doesn’t perk up at the thought. 

Ten minutes later, four shadowy forms run across the horizon. They don’t pause or make any indication that they’ve noticed the trio. 

“They were Grass,” Karin says, once they’re gone. “I recognized one.”

She doesn’t sound happy or defeated or reveal any opinion on the matter. She’s stating a simple fact. 

“Do you even want to be rescued?” Itachi asked curiously. She doesn’t answer, instead curling back up on the grass to sleep. 

She warns them again, mid-morning, that Grass shinobi are crawling around nearby. Rice Country is at their border and does not have their own shinobi village for Grass to have to bargain with for passage.

“We should move on,” Itachi decides. “Cross a border.”

“Grass doesn’t get along with Rock,” Karin says. “We could go north.”

Itachi stares down at her, bemused. Her face is resolute. Kisame barks out a laugh. 

They don’t currently have an Akatsuki mission to direct them in any particular way. It’s as good an idea as any. 

There’s a story in Leaf, about the Fourth Hokage’s wife. She was captured and led out of Fire Country by enemies, but as they made her march, she pulled out her hair strand by strand and left a trail. Her hair was as red as blood, and young Namikaze Minato was then able to follow the trail to rescue her, like following destiny’s red string. 

Itachi is unsure if this story is actually well-known, but he remembers his mother telling it to him at bed time, promising love was possible even among ninja.

Itachi watches Karin as they move. She actively helps clear her own trail, and advises them when they pass near another group of shinobi. 

“You’re a useful little thing, aren’t you?” Kisame says and elbows her playfully in the shoulder. She scowls back at him but there’s little heat in it. 

Itachi remembers Sasuke scowling at him like that, disappointed and annoyed but not hateful. Never hateful, right up until Itachi ruined it. He’s not sure their mother was right about love and shinobi. If she was, then it was a cruel truth, not a hopeful one. 

When they’re well into Earth Country, they stop at a tiny road-side inn for a few days. The inn’s kitchen provides them with good, proper food three meals a day, and the owner is able to order medicine to be delivered for Itachi. 

Karin doesn’t get much chattier, but she becomes friendlier, warmer. She plays go and shogi with both of them in the garden and practices water-walking on the koi pond while Kisame watches. She lays out on her futon and reads a romance novel from the inn’s one-shelf library that Itachi is sure is too mature for her. 

Neither Itachi nor Kisame bring up the biting thing. In her sleeping yukata, Itachi can see that the bitemarks cover her ankles and calves as well. 

Karin only ever goes to the baths at dawn, when no other guests will be there. 

When Itachi and Kisame finally get a mission, Itachi leaves her at the inn with a flock of crows for company. When they come back a week later, she’s still there, sitting on the veranda and petting a crow. The inn’s owner says Karin has been helping with chores and doesn’t charge them for the meals she’s been eating.

“Can we go to Hot Water Country next?” Karin asks. “I’ve never been to an onsen.”

She’s read three trashy romance novels on the subject. Itachi wonders vaguely if he should have intervened in that. 

“We can’t just… take on a child,” Kisame tells Itachi, and he’s right.

They go south towards Wind Country instead. Sasori has a hideout there. Karin blinks curiously around at all the puppet debris Sasori has strung up around his workshop as Itachi explains the problem. She’s curious but unafraid. Itachi isn’t sure if this is because she’s confident in her own worth as a live captive, or if she’s confident in his unwillingness to hurt her. He hopes it’s the former. 

“It wouldn’t do to mar the canvas of the skin anymore,” Sasori agrees and doesn’t question Itachi’s aversion to biting her. 

Karin doesn’t complain as Sasori sticks a needle into the inside of her elbow. She doesn’t look happy, obviously, but she’s not upset or tense. 

“You’ve been treating her like a feral child,” Sasori sniffs, filling a tube with blood. “All those split ends…”

Sasori has his own feral child. Deidara had attacked Itachi on sight and been banned from the hideout for the rest of the day. 

“I’m not a child,” Karin says. “I’m thirteen.”

“I thought you were, like, ten,” Kisame says, and she makes a face at him. She is fairly small for her age. 

Itachi ingests the blood like a shot of shochu. It’s coppery and thick but it’s not particularly offensive in flavor, once he’s gotten over that it’s technically an act of cannibalism. Nothing happens. 

“I told you it wouldn’t work,” Karin says. She sounds like she’d cross her arms, if Sasori weren’t currently holding one. 

Sasori convinces Itachi to try drinking directly from the line leading into Karin’s vein. This also doesn’t work, and Itachi is queasy about going forward any more with this. If he weren’t planning to let Sasuke kill him, maybe it would seem worth the trouble, but right now it just doesn’t. Itachi has already committed to his own death. 

You always had a kind heart, his mother said, and Itachi feels sick to his stomach. 

“We could try a transfusion,” Sasori says. To Karin he asks, “What’s your blood type?”

“AB,” she answers. Sasori turns to Itachi, expectantly. 

“A,” Itachi lies. Sasori doesn’t let the matter go immediately. 

“She could be lying,” he says, eyeing Karin up and down. “If I didn’t want to donate blood, I’d also say I had the rarest type.”

He suggests they take her to the clinic in a nearby town and have her tested. When Itachi rejects the idea, Sasori insists they at least take better care of her appearance and digs up a new set of clothes. 

Karin seems happy with them, and Itachi doesn’t tell her they’re likely lifted from children Sasori has murdered. 

They take Karin on their next mission. It involves hunting down a specific man, and Karin proves herself exceedingly useful on that front. It takes them deep into the jungles of Fire Country, and she complains about mosquitos the whole way. 

“Why do even bugs like to bite me?” she whines. She’s rubbed oils from a plant that supposedly repels mosquitoes all over herself, but it does little good. 

“Next time we’ll get you a chemical repellent,” Kisame promises her. 

Oh gods, Itachi thinks. Is there going to be a next time?

They find their target in a third of the time they anticipated. Karin is even able to pinpoint all the hidden guards at the temple where their target is hiding, saving days of recon. There is, Itachi realizes with the slightest hint of trepidation, definitely going to be a next time. 

“You should practice that as much as you can,” Itachi tells her of her chakra-sensing. “It will be an invaluable skill for a missing-nin.”

“Missing-nin…?” Karin repeats, and her hand grazes her forehead where her hitai-ate would likely sit, if she had hers. 

“That’s what you are,” Itachi confirms, “unless you decide to return to Grass.”

Karin wrinkles her nose and switches the subject to wanting to stay at an inn instead of camping. 

(They camp all the way through Fire Country, but he lets Karin pick a restaurant when they stop in a town for supplies. He misses having someone to spoil.)

In his report to the rest of the Akatsuki, Itachi only references Karin in the obliquest of terms. Deidara immediately rats him out. 

“The girl with magic blood?” he sneers. “You’re still dragging her around? What is this, some sort of weird fetish--”

“She’s a sensor,” Kisame defends. “She’s useful.”

“It doesn’t matter to us what you do in your spare time,” Leader says, “as long as you complete your missions.”

xXx

NOTES: i didn't take notes on the plot so i'm not 100% where this was going. i think the next step was karin basically gets loaned to kakuzu and hidan for a mission (free sensor!) and itachi is low key anxious about it but then she awakens her chains. so he's like "well, good," but then also "ah no, akatsuki is NEVER letting her go now....."

also she starts having a teenaged fling with deidara and no one likes this....!

the following scene is probably part of whatever emotional climax

xXx

“Here,” Karin says, and holds her arm out in front of him. 

She’s pushed up her sleeve. She offers him the pale, fleshy inside of her forearm. 

“Karin,” Itachi says, and gently pushes her arm away. 

“I choose who I save now,” Karin says. “That’s the whole point. And I want to save you.”

She moves closer to him, pushing her forearm up against his face. He moves away. She tries twice more, swearing at him the whole time, before finally backing off. 

“I never would have questioned it before, you know,” she says heatedly. Her nails dig into her thighs as she glares at him. “I thought it was my duty to let everyone bite me, abuse me. And then…”

She trails off. “They killed my mother.”

Itachi watches her. Karin has never talked this much about what Grass did to her, at least not to him. She chews on her thumb. 

Itachi’s chest burns. His lungs are failing him, poisoning the functions of the rest of his body. He may never get to talk to someone this openly again. 

“Mine too,” he admits. 

Karin’s eyes flick over to him, wide with surprise. He watches her face work through reconciling what he’s told her with what she knows. Itachi says his village killed his mother. Itachi killed his mother with his own hand. 

“Oh,” Karin says, her voice cracking. There’s only one way those two facts go together. 

Itachi stays silent. He stays apathetic. Karin searches his face and finds nothing. 

“I keep thinking about how I could have saved her,” she confesses, minutes later. 

“Me too,” Itachi admits.

[prythiansprincess]

kiss with a fist | chapter eight.

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pairing: theodore nott x reader.

song inspiration: people i don't like - upsahl

author's note: moving it along. can't believe that there's only five more chapters left. this series has been my baby so i'm like in shambles as the end comes closer, but also excited.

The night of the dinner was finally upon you and the amalgamation of dread, trepidation, and wrath clouded over you like a malevolent fog. You weren’t looking forward to it, but you knew that Theo was right. If sitting through one lousy dinner secured a spot with the M.E.S.P, then you would begrudgingly grin and bear it. 

Luckily, you wouldn’t have to face it alone. As Luna promised, Harry was waiting for you outside of Professor Slughorn’s office. Harry was dressed in a button down and a dark blazer paired with freshly pressed trousers. Despite his smart attire, his signature messy, black hair and slightly skewed glasses softened his appearance. 

Harry smiled, raising his hand in a slight wave. “Hi, Y/N. You look lovely.” 

You smoothed the front of your dress, which Pansy had helped you pick out. The fabric was sleek and silky and as dark as night. The front was simple, but the back dipped low and revealed more skin than you were used to. It was completely out of your comfort zone, but Pansy had insisted that you were meant to wear the dress.

“Thanks, Harry. So do you.” You stood up straighter, balancing on your impossibly tall heels—another Parkinson addition, before rolling your shoulders back. “Shall we?” 

The inside of Professor Slughorn’s office had been transformed into an entirely different space. Velvet curtains hung from the ceiling and covered the marble columns like tapestry. A round mahogany table sat in the middle of the room and sat upon it were fresh fruits, expensive cheese, and cold cuts. The plates were set in a circular formation and each one contained a placard with a different student’s name. 

You took your place, quietly settling in between Harry and a Hufflepuff girl—Melissa? No, Melinda. You remembered that her family owned a large chain of apothecaries. 

As you glanced around the table, you realized that while there were at least two or three members from Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff, there was only one Slytherin in the midst. You weren’t that familiar with Cassius Warrington, but you knew that he was currently being pursued by the Chudley Cannons, which was plenty of incentive for Slughorn to invite him into the mix. 

You were well aware that the presence of each student was contingent on the benefits they could help provide Slughorn and vice versa. After all, that was the purpose of the slug club, but facing it head on still made your stomach roil. You barely touched the filet mignon and scalloped potatoes for fear of retching it all back up. The conversations happening around you made it impossible to eat.

It was just endless prattling and bragging on and on about connections and achievements, much to Slughorn’s delight. The superficiality of it all made you nauseous. When McLaggen name dropped his influential uncle for what seemed like the hundredth time that night, you nearly pulled your hair out. You watched with a grimace as he lapped up his soup with tiny licks, sort of like a lizard toying with a fly. 

Out of instinct, you turned to your right to snicker with Theo only to remember that he wasn’t there, which put you in a foul mood all over again. 

“He does love to prattle on, doesn’t he?” Harry muttered in a low voice. 

You nodded. “I imagine he only speaks to hear the sound of his own voice.” 

“I take it that you’re enjoying this as much as I am.” 

“If by enjoying you mean considering pulling my eyelashes out one by one, then you would be correct, Potter.” 

“Forget the eyelashes. I might pluck my own eyes out all together if I hear McLaggen say my uncle Tiberius one more time.” 

You snorted. “If you’re as miserable as I am, then what are you doing here?” 

He shrugged. “People expect me to be here. To go on as normal. It’s important to have some semblance of that after last year, I suppose.” 

You nodded sympathetically. Everyone looked up to Harry. He was a hero, a practical living legend, the boy who lived not once but twice. You imagined carrying all of that pressure on his shoulders couldn’t have been easy. 

“What about you? You’re obviously not enjoying yourself, so why subject yourself to all of this?” 

“I want to become a potioneer after I graduate. Slughorn is an influential member of the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers, which means he’s my key to getting accepted so while this dinner is physically and mentally draining all of my energy, I don’t have much of a choice. Being the first muggleborn member of the society would be monumental. Not just for me, but for other witches in the future."

“I understand,” Harry said with a nod. “You know, Mione’s probably going to be the first muggleborn witch to become Minister of Magic.” 

You smiled. While you two weren’t close by any means, you have always admired Hermione. Her academic achievements were the cause of your envy for many years, but after all that she had gone through, you stopped feeling that stab of jealousy. 

“The wizarding world would be lucky to have Granger leading it,” you agreed. “Which reminds me, why isn’t she here tonight?” 

“She declined the invitation. As did Ron.” 

“I can’t blame them. I half expected you to do so as well. The three of you have done enough to last a lifetime.” 

“Yes, but like I said. It’s important for me to participate in these things. To boost morale, or so I’ve been told.” 

It was fascinating to you that Harry could joke about such things. If you had battled the darkest wizard of all time and lived to tell the tale, you would probably tell everyone to kindly fuck off forever, but you suppose that was the reason why Harry was the chosen one and not you. 

“Do you ever feel like you’re still fighting?” you asked. “Voldemort and his followers are either dead or imprisoned, yes. But we’re still rooting out their ideologies to this day and now there’s this new suspicion surrounding an entire house despite the fact the Death Eaters had members from Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff too.” 

Harry nodded solemnly. “Everyone thinks that the war ended at the Battle of Hogwarts, but in reality, our work is barely beginning. The hardest part is healing. I’ll admit that sometimes it’s hard for me to separate the fact that Tom was a Slytherin with my own biases about the whole house itself, but unlearning all of those misconceptions is a process. It takes a lot to change a person’s perception. We can’t all be as smart and logical as you Ravenclaws.” 

“If only, right?” you said with a smile. 

“Well, we could always try it your way and threaten to push people off of the bleachers.” His green eyes crinkled with amusement. 

You groaned. “I can’t believe you heard about that.” 

“I must say, Ron and I had a proper laugh when we heard about it. He still hasn’t forgotten his stay in the hospital wing thanks to Romilda’s tainted chocolate cauldrons.” You grimaced, which made Harry chuckle. “I am sorry about what she said to Pansy though. We aren’t friends by any means, but I’d like to think that we’re at least on civil terms. Luna talks about her fondly and if Parkinson’s got your approval, then it’s safe to assume that she’s treating our friend well.” 

“She is,” you agreed. “They are nauseatingly perfect for each other.” 

“I’m glad to hear it. We all deserve a little happiness.” 

“Speaking of which, how’s Ginny doing?” 

The boy who lived blushed furiously. “She’s well. How’s Theo doing?” 

You smirked. “Touche, Potter. Touche.”

As the night droned on, you found excuses to visit the refreshment table just to get away from all the insufferable preening. While you fixed yourself a cup of tea, you sensed a presence to your right. Cassius surveyed the variety of teas on the table, but made no move to select any.

“Sorry, am I in your way?” 

“No,” he said with a shake of his head. “I just needed an excuse to get up.” 

You chuckled. “Join the club, Warrington.” He smiled a little as you dropped a sugar cube into your cup. “Congratulations on the recruitment by the way. Your teammates won’t shut up about it.” 

Cassius scratched the back of his head, looking a bit shy. “Thanks, Y/N. Everything is still in the negotiation stage, but after the last game, I think my chances are looking good. The boys said you were there for the match.” 

“Yeah, I was. This might not mean much since I haven’t watched a game since fourth year, but you guys were great out there. It was bloody brutal. I had a blast.” 

“I’m glad to hear that. We do our best to put on a show,” he said. Warrington toyed with his saucer. He looked around before clearing his throat and lowering his voice. “Listen, Y/N. I heard about what you did for Pansy.”

“You and the rest of the school, apparently.” 

“I just wanted to say thanks for sticking up for her. Pansy—she—helped me out a lot after my father was imprisoned and I probably wasn’t the only one. Everyone in Slytherin, especially those that were caught in the crossfire last year, owe a lot to her. She’s one of the good ones.”

You nodded, smiling. “I wouldn’t have let her date my best friend if I didn’t think that myself.” 

“Luna makes her really happy. I’m glad that they have each other. Pansy earned it.” 

“They both did.”

The conversation was cut short as Slughorn tapped his spoon against his goblet. The two of you reluctantly made your way back to the table.

“Thank you all for joining me tonight. It is a great privilege to be able to gather after all that passed last year. I urge you to look around at your fellow witches and wizards, remembering the fallen and celebrating the sacrifices that have all brought us back to this castle. As we commemorate this monumental moment, let us look not to the past but to the future.” 

You swirled the glass of sparkling non-alcoholic spritzer, only half listening to the generic drivel that you’ve heard a thousand times before. The more Slughorn talked, the more irritated you felt. There was all this talk of looking to the future, moving on, hoping for a better tomorrow, but what use was that if you couldn’t even fix the present?

Professor Slughorn raised his glass in the air. “A toast to the best of the best.” 

That one phrase was the straw that broke the camel’s back. You had no idea why, but those words finally made you crack.

“That’s not right though, is it professor?” The whole table fell silent as every head turned in your direction. “Sure we may be smart, accomplished, but not the best.” 

Slughorn reeled back in surprise. His expression faltered before he plastered on a false smile. “Don’t sell yourself short, Y/N. All of you worked hard to get here.” 

“None of us are even the top student in your class. That would be Theo.” You were vaguely aware that you were raising your voice, but once the words tumbled past your lips, you couldn’t reel them back in. “But he’s not here because surely we can’t invite your star pupil to a slug club dinner if his father is in Azkaban for being a death eater. That would be like inviting the Dark Lord to dinner, but wait. Didn’t you already do that, professor?”

A gasp came from your right. Melinda stared at you as though you’d grown an extra head. 

“That’s quite enough, Y/N.”

Your humorless laughter echoed in the cavernous office. “Oh, but I’m just getting started. What was it that you said in your welcoming speech at the beginning of the year? Unity and reconciliation? Surely ostracizing someone for his father’s deeds, which he had nothing to do with by the way, judged and ruled by the Ministry itself, directly contradicts that sentiment, does it not? Or are we all just supposed to ignore this blatant display of discrimination against a perfectly innocent student?”

“Perfectly innocent?” scoffed McLaggen. “Nott comes from a long line of dark wizards as do the rest of the Slytherins. They show you an ounce of kindness and suddenly you become their little muggleborn pet.” 

To your surprise, Cassius leapt to his feet. “Don’t call her that,” he nearly growled. “Y/N is just being a good friend. She stood up for Pansy when no one else would and now she’s doing it for Theo, too. You want to compare ledgers, McLaggen? Didn’t your father and uncle conspire to bring the Ministry under the Dark Lord’s control? They armed Voldemort and the Death Eaters then profited off of the war. They deserve to be in Azkaban just as much as my father does, but conveniently their records were wiped clean. Isn’t that why your family moved to France?” 

The room was utterly silent. McLaggen looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel, but Cassius wasn’t done. He wheeled around to face the other attendees. “I’m not stupid. I know I was only invited because I’m being scouted by the Cannons, but I hoped that attending would make you see me as someone more than just a Death Eater’s son. I guess I was wrong and now I’m done with this farce. You’ll never stop seeing us as the villains.”

Without waiting for a response, Cassius stormed out of the room. He held his head up proudly, nodding to you and Harry as he made his graceful exit. 

“Cassius is right,” Harry declared. “So is Y/N. We can’t crucify every Slytherin for the mistakes of a few. That would make us no better than Voldemort himself.  The way I see it, the only way to get to the future we all fought for is to work with our fellow classmates, the Slytherins included. I hope you can learn to look past your biases and false perceptions, just as I’m learning how to.” 

Not a single person moved as Harry finished his speech. “Right, well that’s that then.” He turned over to you. “Shall we get going, Y/N?” 

“Gladly.” 

You pushed your chair back and paid no mind to the burning gazes seared upon your back. Before following Harry out of the office, you leaned in close to McLaggen and lowered your voice so only he could hear. “If you ever speak poorly of my friends again, I’ll dose you with a potion that makes your precious man parts shrivel.” 

Cormac paled several shades as you patted him on the shoulder. “Enjoy your dessert, McLaggen. I heard chocolate ganache pairs well with prejudice.” 

The castle was quiet at this time of night. You and Harry walked side by side through the dungeons in silence. For someone who just blew up her academic career, you felt fairly calm. You knew that speaking up for your friends was the right thing to do. 

“Thank you for speaking up back there,” you said. “You didn’t have to do that. You don’t owe anyone anything after all you’ve done, but I appreciate it nonetheless.” 

“I do though. Hearing Cassius in there, I realized that the Ministry has failed both sides in a lot of ways. I think we’re all so eager to go back to the way things were before that we’re willing to overlook a lot of things. I’ve never even thought about families like the McLaggens who aided the Dark Lord, but got off with a light sentence. Or people like Cassius and Pansy and Theo who face a lot of unfair judgment from the rest of the wizarding world.” 

“That’s the point, Harry. You shouldn’t have to think about it. None of us should. We’re all just children forced to grow up by the war because of the failure of those before us. It’s unfair to be burdened with a load so heavy.”

Harry sighed, nodding. “But if we don’t carry our load, we risk repeating the same mistakes and I won’t have that. We have to do better than the past generations.” 

“We will,” you declared. “We have to.” 

The torch lights drew shadows across the stone floors as you contemplated. 

“You really care about them, don’t you?” It was more a statement rather than a question. You nodded, which made Harry smile. “I can tell that they care about you, too. Especially Theo.” 

“We spent years in competition with one another, the classic bitter rivals. It’s kind of ironic that we became friends during our last year here.” 

Harry looked at you strangely. “Right, friends…”

You crossed your arms and narrowed your eyes at the green eyed wizard. “What’s that tone for, Potter?” 

His mouth quirked. “Nothing, it’s just—well, Theo looks at you like I used to look at Ginny. With pining and yearning, as Mione liked to say. And the way you defended him earlier, Ginny would’ve done the same for me.” You were silent for a moment as you absorbed his words. “A word of advice, Y/N. I know it’s against those Ravenclaw instincts, but sometimes it’s good to get out of your head and tune into your heart instead.” 

“Since when did the boy who lived become an expert on all things romance?” you teased. 

“A handful of near death experiences really helps put things into perspective.” 

You grinned. “I’ll take your word for it, Potter.” The two of you came to a stop at the base of the Ravenclaw Tower. “Well, this is me. Thank you for tonight. I genuinely hope to never do it again.” 

Harry laughed. “You and me both, Y/N.” 

You raised up on your tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek in thanks, feeling uncharacteristically chipper despite the disastrous dinner. “Good night, Harry.” 

He smiled, blushing slightly. “Good night, Y/N.” 

As you climbed up the spiraling staircase, you saw a glimpse of snow falling softly over the castle grounds. When you stopped and stared at the glittering landscape, you recalled the other night in Hogsmeade when Theo leaned in to brush the snowflakes off of your lips. 

There’s something that I’ve been meaning to tell you. 

You were certain that you already knew what Theo was about to say, because you’ve been meaning to tell him the same thing too. When you reached the fifth floor, your grin had grown so wide that your cheeks ached from smiling. As you slipped past the bronze eagle knocker, you caught a glimpse of a discarded bouquet of wisterias peeking out from a nearby trash bin. 

With a pause, you plucked a petal off of your favorite flower and tucked it into your braid. You went to sleep that night thinking that Harry was right. 

Maybe it was time to let your heart do the talking. 

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[asher-agere]

Hi ash! Do you mind a new request? I was thinking about little atsushi and babysitter chuuya! I like to think that normally Dazai is his main cg, but sometimes when regressed Atsushi can't stay in the ADA (for whatever reason, maybe he's overwhelmed or the case they're a working on is a little to heavy for a child) and Dazai have to stay and work, he(Dazai) would take his little to Slug's house! Chuuya doesn't aadmit but he's great with kids!

That being said i like to hc Atsushi more as a kid regressor, but i know you like to write baby agere so do what makes you happy and i'll be happy as well!!!

- 🦭 (I bought the biggest and prettiest frog plush i've ever seen in my entire life. I can hug that thing. I love it dearly. (Unfurtunatelly still don't have a name for them))

I love this! Dazai just dragging Chuuya into things is always hilarious for me. Also since I am over 2 and a half months late. Do you have a name for the plushy yet? :0 Frogs are the bestest…

Little Atsushi + Babysitter Chuuya

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

☆ I think that the first time they rely on Chuuya to babysit, Dazai stays with them! Not because he doesn’t trust Chuuya, Soukoku’s trust in each other knows no bounds. But he knows how anxious Atsushi would be, plus the abandonment issues. If he’d just dropped Atsushi off with this man he’d never met before and just left? Atsushi would be a total wreck. Dazai uses most of the time to just annoy Chuuya, but that does create a nice sense of normalcy that actually helps Atsushi relax! As long as the yelling is kept to a minimum, and Chuuya is pretty aware not to yell around a traumatized kid

⛦ As they start meeting up without Dazai they can actually grow closer! Chuuya starts learning things about Atsushi! Stuff like what foods he likes (All of them), his comfort items (A cat plushy and his teether), and his headspace age (4-6)! Chuuya takes the information he learns to make the absolute ideal safe space for Atsushi! Obviously he’ll never be like Dazai is to the boy, but he can still be a safe and comfortable place!

☆ Atsushi usually leaves Chuuya’s pretty happy! He always loves going back to Dazai and talking about how much fun he had! And Dazai has his own fun, giving Atsushi mean names to call Chuuya, giving him false information about Chuuya, and telling him the must effective ways to get whatever he wants from the mafioso! Chuuya is beyond frustrated and trying to get Dazai to stop causing problems, however Dazai claims it’s simply caregiver and little bonding! And as Atsushi giggles and nods along… Well how is he supposed to argue with that?

⛦ Pet names! Chuuya absolutely calls Atsushi “Cub” because. Baby tiger. He’s just a little cub trust. But Chuuya also uses nicknames like “Kiddo” or “Little One”! He doesn’t want to overstep by using to intimate of pet names. Atsushi’s main pet name for Chuuya is “Mommy”! Full blame goes to Dazai who started it, but now it just feels natural for the little tiger. He’ll also occasionally, in passing, call Chuuya “Chibi”, also Dazai’s fault of course, but he primarily just uses “Mommy”!

☆ As Chuuya finds out about Atsushi’s past and relates it to his own and that of so many of his old Sheep members… Chuuya determines it’s time for some serious spoiling. He buys Atsushi an onslaught of gear to start with, and every single time Atsushi comes to stay with him the little tiger leaves with a new present! He always tells Atsushi not to let Dazai touch the present because he’ll infect them with nasty Mackerel disease. Of course Atsushi instantly hands over all presents to Dazai to eagerly receive his caregivers approval though, no matter what Chuuya says

⛦ Cooking! I think Chuuya is a really good chef, and Atsushi loves to eat! A perfect combination hehe. Atsushi also loves to help! Chuuya can give him simple tasks to do to help out and Atsushi feels so amazing and helpful! I think they need to make a lot of finger foods, easy to pick up snacks, because Atsushi can’t use utensils to save his life. Like yes Chuuya can feed him and that makes Atsushi feel beyond amazing and so safe and tiny, but also he likes to just grab his food and shove it into his mouth! He’s practically trying to see how quick he can eat, partially because he’s used to as a kid needing to eat as quickly as possible before it’s gone

☆ Atsushi always loves having his tiger ears out when he’s with Chuuya! And sometimes his tail too! He can’t around Dazai because Dazai always accidentally deactivates the ability, so he’s so extra happy to do it around Chuuya! And Chuuya of course brags to Dazai about how soft the tiger ears are, what a shame the stinky Mackerel doesn’t get to pet them. Little Atsushi ends up awkwardly pat comforting Dazai who’s being incredibly overdramatic. On the topic of abilities Chuuya will also float Atsushi to let him fly around the mafioso’s apartment! Never fails to make Atsushi giggly and happy

⛦ Chuuya always hangs up Atsushi’s artwork on his fridge! Whether it’s drawings, paintings, or arts and crafts! He’s literally bought magnets just for Atsushi’s projects. If he ever has anyone over to his apartment he’s proud to say that the art’s from a kid he babysits. Of course he never gives enough details for anyone to track things back to Atsushi. He’s incredibly protective over the art! If anyone insults it he’ll literally kick them out of his apartment and won’t talk to them for an entire day bare minimum, sometimes longer even

☆ I think that once Atsushi learns to relax around Chuuya he’d want to go over to his house even when the agency isn’t busy! He’ll beg Dazai to take him over, and Dazai agrees of course! It usually ends with a game night, whether that’s board games, cards, or even video games! Soukoku ends up bickering and Atsushi doesn’t care in the slightest because it feels like he has a family for once, something he never truly got to have, and it’s only in those moments that he realizes how badly he wants to have one

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

Guys I have no idea how I’ve been managing to posts much recently but I think I deserve. Perhaps. The tiniest little morsel of praise for this astonishing feat

[DNI ID: A white box with a grey border. Atsushi to the right and a white tiger to the left. Grey text reads “DNI if your blog isn’t child safe. I be will block NSFW accounts” End ID]

[dandelionjack]

an essay about Rogue, The Chimes of Midnight, and how i believe all this ties in to the overarching themes of the series EVEN IF the inside-a-tv-show theory proves untrue

“Rogue” named himself after a stock character. he is the archetypal Handsome Rogue because there has to be a Handsome Rogue role in a period drama story set in Austenesque Regency England.

it’s all theatre — smoke and mirrors. just like the war waged against imaginary foes in boom (because there needs to be an Enemy in a wartime story) was theatre; the creation of the Bogeyman in space babies (because there needs to be a Scary Monster in a children’s bedtime story) was theatre; The Woman following Ruby in 73 yards (because there needs to be a Ghost in a folk horror story) was theatre. dot and bubble less so, but it’s wise to note — the dots created the slugs after all. they invented the slugs so that there would be a tangible Creature for the finetimers (and the Doctor) to fear, rather than simply being betrayed by their own technology. because that’s exactly what the false, harmful narratives colonialists tell themselves — stories of taming and conquering a wild Mother Nature and her ferocious beasts — have trained them to expect from the world. the dots were telling a story too, or rather putting on a play.

the penultimate episode of any doctor who series, if not always leading directly into the two-parter finale, will typically begin to tie up loose narrative strands that have stretched across the entire season. at a first impression rogue doesn’t seem to be doing that. but then you take a closer look at the antagonists: creatures that play a role for fun without the slightest regard for those around them. lethal LARPers. cosplayers out to kill. to put it pretentiously, a hyper-realistic theatre of cruelty.

to nobody’s surprise, i’m bringing up my favourite eighth doctor audio drama — the chimes of midnight. edward grove gives every person trapped in the time loop a designated role: the chauffeur, the doctor-detective, the plucky young lady of the house, the lady’s maid, the scullery girl, the housekeeper. they keep playing these roles, over and over, until they begin to forget their original identity, until the part they’re playing takes over their entire sense of self. the servants keep dying over and over because they cannot transcend their roles, because they believe themselves to be “nothing but a scullery maid”. they are reduced to the parts they play in the narrative until they become nothing outside of it, until they become confined to a single location.

the chimes of midnight is set in Edwardian-era England, a time of restrictive, prescriptive class, status and social roles which defined a person’s life and career trajectory — this strict delineation is driven to its logical conclusion and deconstructed under the unnatural conditions of Edward Grove. similarly, rogue is set in a Regency-era mansion — another historical period defined in the popular imagination by its complicated social rules, elegant courtship dynamics, strict class barriers, gossip and elitism. these two doctor who stories don’t have any intentional watsonian connection, but they are deeply linked on a thematic level.

high society is forced theatre. a 24/7 LARP. play your part, put on your costume, don’t interrupt the performance. the audience is waiting. they’re oh so hungry for tragedy.

the biggest part of them all, the most sought-after role, of course, is The Doctor. a standard to live up to. a name to wear like a banner, a pledge, a promise. he has to be like this because this is what he’s like.

the Scullery Maid scrubs the kitchen floor. The Detective searches for clues. the Chauffeur starts up his car. the Duchess hosts a glittering soirée. the Rake hides a secret fling with the Wallflower. the Rogue breaks hearts and broods on the balcony.

and the Doctor? the Doctor dances. “onwards and upwards”. forever in perpetual motion, spinning and spinning and spinning across the stars. never pausing to breathe. never stopping.

p.s.: so, pray tell, what is Ruby Sunday in all this? “The Companion”, of course. smart, funny, sassy, quick-witted, brave, cheeky, curious, self-sacrificial. she almost feels generic because she’s meant to be. she wasn’t born. she was written. an essential part of the story too. circling the Doctor like a satellite forever.

[barrenclan]

HELLO!!!!!!!!!!!! IT IS TIME GAMERSSSS

omg daffy with the save!!! i guess she’s not really wrong, traveling herbs are basically superpowers, but THAT’S MY FAVE!!!

ooh no. him staying “still can’t half hear” makes me wonder if any hearing will return at all, but i guess that’s for the epilogues! but in any case getting more on blacknose after it all is always a win… happy she’s still ‘here’ in a sense.

OH SO NIGHTBERRY ISN’T STAYING BECAUSE OBLIGATION SHE’S JUST STAYING SO COOTSTORM ISN’T ALONE AND BECAUSE OF TRAVEL AND CYPRESSFOOT??? :(((( MAN!!!!! though technically nightberry.. probably doesn’t have long left, so cootstorm will still be on her lonesome. tbh even though i hate cootstorm i eagerly wait to see if we get an epilogue for her, just to dig into her mind during isolation…

MAGIC EYEBALL POWERS AOFJRKENEKEN NOOOOO

AYO!!! THE CHARACTER ARC!! LET’S GO PLUMSTRIPE!! i love how they start on ‘we’ but then goes back onto ‘i’, major props to plumstripe for taking that first step and moving beeface on to apologize too!!

agehehhh beeface’s apology :(( god god i am NOT GOING TO CRY OVER CAT COMIC TODAY NOOOOOO!!!

OH WOW DAFFY DOESN’T ACCEPT HER APOLOGY???? to be honest.. LETS GO DAFFY GO STAND YOUR GROUND AND ACKNOWLEDGE THE APOLOGY BUT DON’T FEEL PRESSURED TO ACCEPT IT!!!! i think a daffy near the start of this probably would have just said “i accept your apology” to just.. get it over with, but my girl has GROWN!!!!!!!! SHE IS COMFORTABLE IN HER OWN SKIN AND WILLING TO DEFEND HERSELF!!! LETS FUCKING GOOOOO!!! i don’t want to say 100% because i could be illiterate but daffy’s mentor relationship with beeface can probably be described as abusive?? so i am very proud of her for voicing what she needs and saying she wants to go no contact!!! and yes it is stupid to say i’m proud of a fictional kitty but I DON’T CARE !!! DAFFY I’VE SEEN YOU GROWWWWW

god i’m so curious as to what bee would’ve done if plum wasn’t there, but also i’m overjoyed plum stopped.. whatever was gonna happen. cain and abel more like slugpelt and rainhaze amrite??

YES TALK ABOUT YOUR EMOTIONS CHILDREN!!!! yess daffy!!!!! very happy with her realizations that she doesn’t need a mate and/or kits to be fulfilled, but even if she tries and it doesn’t work out she has people… that’s my girl!!!! there is so much love in her heart and it’s growing every day.. she’s been through so much and still she just loves her family and her friends and wants to share even more of it.. AGGGGG DAFFY YOU’RE SO GROWNNNNNN AGGEGGVV!!!!

i forgot this was the pinewing comic for a second my bad. blinded by my favorite. anyways yes this is so stupid but i love the reminder that he and corm are ‘official’ now. they’re in love hehehe!!!!

yesyes please visit guys

SPOOKY BRAIN MAGIC LMAOOO i hope even when pinewing visits she never stops calling the magic funny names. it’s so good

oh they’re gonna visit asphodelshine i guess i am crying.. i forget what blue borders mean are those imagination? she does also look so much older.. are those daffy’s imagined kits or are those the stillborns that came before them..?

OH THIS IS STILL GOING OKAY I’M BUCKLING BACK IN

WAIT WHEN DID SLUG BREAK A LEG????? was this because of south park raccoon’s chomping or???

NO SLUG NO WE GOTTA GET OUT OF HERE!!! DON’T LEAVE YOU BEHIND!! NO ROTTING!!

oh gawd pinewing just wants his mom what if i cried again.. don’t rot for the dead live for the.. living idk i’m trying to sound cool but i’m too emotional over kitty cat comic.

CORM HELLO

awggeghh his home isn’t this place it’s the people…

“this time you’ll have me” GAY!! GAY PEOPLE!!! OH WOW THEY’RE SO GAY. they’re so adorable raz i did not go here expecting one of the cutest couples in fiction hello??

HI STRANGER ALNELEBELEIEKEJE I THINK I MIGHT LOVE YOU OH KY GODBSKDNEKDJD LET’S GO FIND SOMEWHERE NEW!! THIS PANEL IS SO PRETTY!! RAHHHHHHHHHHH

i love this comic so much.. i cannot believe it is ending but at least we have funny gay people…

I am gonna miss getting your issue reactions so badly! What a journey it's been!! :,)

Pinewing is now permanently hard of hearing in his scarred ear, because Hacksaw was able to damage some of his inner ear as well as the outer skin.

Yeah, even if she wasn't super old and weary, Nightberry wouldn't want to leave her daughter behind in isolation like this. To her, she's already fulfilled her last duty - telling Pinewing about oracles - so she can rest a little easier now. Cootstorm does have an epilogue, and I am super excited to get to it. >:]

Plumstripe's been having her own little character arc in the background of the last ten-ish issues, and this is where it really comes to the forefront! She's a lot guiliter and more unsure than Beeface is, but she's okay with guiding the two of them. And yeah, it was important to me that Daff accepted the apology but didn't forgive! It's okay to not forgive your abusers, and still want to them to become better people at the same time.

So real for being blinded by Daffodilcloud, she is wonderful and should be appreciated at all times.

Someday, in the future, Daffodilcloud: hey Pinewing can you find lunch for us with your brain lasers?

Pinewing: alright,

Blue borders are hypotheticals/imagination, yes! Daff is imagining what it could have been like for Asphodelshine to be an aunt to her own kittens in the future that never was.

Slugpelt broke her leg when Deepdark kicked her!

At heart I'm just a big sap who wants things to work out okay. And I like telling stories about people who get to have love and keep surviving despite the hard things they go through. Thanks for reading. <3