#the worst thing is that they were gifts

[elflikesfrogs]

my favorite set of socks officially all have holes in them and it feels like losing a brother or something

[tj-crochets]

Hey does anyone else with one or more forms of dysautonomia* have a thing where if they have a moderate-to-severe physical stressor (like a severe allergic reaction, getting a vaccine, stuff like that), they get a new bonus dysautonomia for a few days to a few weeks? I thought it was a side effect of allergic reactions for me**, but this vaccine I had pretty much zero allergy symptoms but am having new issues, so I think it might be more general. A few times, I've had increased issues with low blood sugar for usually only a few days, but sometimes as much as a month or two after a severe allergic reaction. Once, I had waaaaay over-sensitive adrenaline reactions for a while (bad enough that I watched an episode of gamechanger and had to stop because I got too tense and my heartrate shot up). A few times, including this time, my thermoregulation seems to be very off. Like, it's not great in general, but now I am sweating so easily which is not normal for me (and not good with my salt issues) *my diagnoses that fall under that umbrella, more or less, include but are not limited to: salt wasting syndrome, POTS, possibly MCAS, tachycardia (separate from the POTS), and "something is weird about your endocrine system, maybe Addison's?" **I did bring this up with my allergist! He said "Allergies don't do that". I said "If it's not allergy related, then why does benadryl help?". He stared at me for a while, then said "I don't know. Allergies shouldn't do that"

[meatexe]

not to sound like a broken record but i miss my boyfwiend theyve been gone four hours n it feels like my heart is dying in my chest

[valeriefauxnom]

You know, the more I read about Narcissistic Personality Disorder, the more I become curious if the writers were actually using it as a guideline for Emile's character and plot involving him. Yes, yes, it's not particularly unique to create a selfish character nor one that has a comically grandiose perception of themselves, nor do are these traits comprehensive to what NPD is, but let me explain, because BOY the dude is a checklist.

As always, long post.

First, let's break out the good ole DSMV. It may not be perfect, but hey. It's what I've got to work with for Official Sources to escape pop psychology sites. Here's the diagnostic criteria for NPD:

How does Emile stack up?

1: He immediately establishes a sense of identity that he believes he is more great than a Greatwyrm.

2: Much of his actions in the main campaign are born from a desire to live out his dreams of power, fame, and recognition.

3: *Gestures vaguely at 98.4% of what Emile says in Dragalia lost* He often refers to others with derogatory names, especially those that reinforce the status differences between them. Honestly, his vocabulary regarding this is rather impressive. Ingrate, peasant, dreck, peon, clod...

4: Here's where I might start to suspect the writers were doing more than just writing an egotistical character. NPD is defined in part by the excessive need for admiration and reinforcement (more on that later). Emile occasionally voices sentiments like above. See also this quote in his Gala story, in which, despite being in desperate need for money, ultimately personally valued the praise he got from the customer more. He's always been a character desperate for positive response.

5: A bit hard to distinguish from some of the standard entitlement royalty does get, but...yeeaaah. Emile is very much entitled in a way that Leonidas, who also expects absolute obedience of subordinates to his orders, isn't. He seems to believe that everyone automatically, no matter who they are, will immediately acquiesce to his will without question, without having any basis for their subservience. Take how he expects, -despite knowing that nobody recognizes him as Emperor at the moment, -a street artist to give up tools of his trade simply because he demands it.

6: Again, quite a large chunk of his motives in the main campaign is exploitive behavior of others. He lies to make Mercury believe her home is in danger and that he can stop it, then establishes he views a pactbound dragon as a slave to his will. Chelle agrees to lend him her androids, and he immediately absconds with the remote she 'accidentally' left lying out to serve his own needs.

Even smaller things in chapter 4, like his demand for Euden to escort him to the summit, is taking advantage of Euden's sense of justice and fairness to ensure he can undergo Jupiter's trial (which he thinks he will win). Take his scheme to foster love for him once he yoinks the throne while everyone else is gone is manipulative. He creates a 'bandit problem' and then sets up scenarios to swoop in to save the day. People see through this one, but it's still manipulative.

7: *Gestures vaguely at Emile again* Emile is...lacking in empathy or consideration for others' lives. I feel like this is pretty self-explanatory.

8: We can see this even in the comics. His first appearence in them checks off several of the traits we've already discussed and adds in 'assumes others are jealous of him' to the book. But even sticking to 'pure' canon, Emile is long, long established that jealousy of his elder siblings in particular is a driving factor regarding his behavior. There's many examples for this, but I'll keep it short since I already used an excuse to drag out the comic.

9: *Gestures vaguely at Emile yet again* Honestly I'm not even going to add any pictures for this point. I think when even your NPC unit description claims you as 'haughty' it's an established character trait.

That's NINE out of nine traits, when FIVE is the requirement for a potential diagnosis. Key word being potential, because we place more requirements on a diagnosis than just matching some features.

But I'd like to go a bit deeper into it. It's one thing to constantly drag out all the moments of Emile being Emile, but digging into the whys of it all also is compelling to me and this argument.

Here's another small exert of the DSMV:

Though hinted at in chapter 4, we gradually came to know more and more about the deeper side and reasons behind Emile's behavior. The long and short of it was: he's jealous. He knows he's inferior, deep, deep down. And we've one connecting factor for what flipped the switch to the degree of behavior he spirals into in canon: Euden. Emile spells it out early himself.

From what we know of their relationship before canon, Euden seemed to be the adoring sibling eager to learn whatever Emile deigned to teach him and was generally subservient as he was to all his siblings. He, unintentionally, fed Emile's ego at being able to instruct an inferior, feeding that need for affirmation. Thus, when canon rolls around, Emile is gravely wounded (emotionally), by Euden's betrayal of 'stepping outside his place'. He's the pillar that's allowed Emile to raise himself so high, and now that he's moved, Emile falls.

In that same conversation, Emile explicitly cites the 'degradation' Euden is putting him through, and thus enters another long-lasting characteristic of NPD. Enter his rage.

Among all his other motivations for appreciation, Emile cultivated quite a potent desire to harm Euden in particular. Several times he expresses a desire or tries to kill him with his 'own two hands', but I think the Persona crossover event is a goldmine for demonstrating the extent of how enamored he is with thoughts of violence regarding Euden in particular after his 'offense'.

He doesn't just want to kill Euden. He wants to short drop hang him (ie, the non-instantaneous kind that leaves you suffocating, though who knows if they even know the 'break the neck instantly' variety either, to be fair). He wants to break him mentally and quite possibly physically, judging by how quick he is to call in Shadows to beat him. Somehow, I'd speculate just by the sheer pleasure he takes specifically in seeing Euden in despair and misery (he should take notes from Ciella) it'd be a quick jump to actual torture if Euden hadn't immediately been busted out as planned.

Why? Again: though his elder siblings left Emile feeling unappreciated and inferior, Euden is the one to have raised him up before dropping him. It's personal. Therein is his fragile self-esteem, so dependent on the one he viewed as inferior.

All this culminates to a surprisingly replete picture of what NPD actually looks like. It's not just base selfishness or some excess ego, but a incredibly strong and persistent pattern of this kind of behavior, all in fulfillment of a need to acquire adoration. It's the fury that can follow the broken self esteem when that adoration isn't given. It's the vengeful fantasies of harming those who wronged him, the lower empathy for others occasionally paving the way for acts of violence.

Somehow, Emile is still compelling (to myself included), despite him being much of what people loathe in the real world. He's bombastic and dynamic in a way that his more emotionally-composed siblings aren't, and that lends him well to comedy in its own way. It doesn't hurt that he's like. Probably the 2nd most common of the royal fam to pop up, after Euden. He's the Saturday morning cartoon villain who is the lowest on the totem pole of threats and thus safe to have a laugh at until he rolls 20 and starts causing very real danger.

That aside, I threw together this for a more light-hearted thing regarding Emile:

Edit: I remembered Zardin. I think it's kinda funny how Emile is a "better", more complete representation of a narcissist is and does than the supposed actual narcissist himself. I think it's a case of Emile being the 'technical' one while Zardin is a 'literary' one. Aside from being obsessed with his looks just as OG Narcissus was, he's... not really displaying many traits that I can recall from him. Still interesting.

[ryan1014n2]

cozy little engines playing a video game and eating snacks

[treesbian]

being mad at my parents for events long passed hours

[yeonban]

HEIZOU'S BIRTHDAY GIFTS! (We're pretending I answered on time)

@destinywoven asked: It took a little detective work of his own to discover when Heizou’s birthday fell. Perhaps he would have told Cyno if he’d asked, but that would have ruined the fun. And the surprise.

By pulling more than his fair share of very difficult strings that involved weeks of negotiations, bartering and a little bit of intimidation, Cyno has managed to secure something special; a Matra-approved detective licence. Though he would have to liaise with the Matra (something Cyno would, naturally, see to personally), with this licence in hand, Heizou would be free to conduct and pursue cases in Sumeru whenever he saw fit. This, of course, included permanent access to accommodation whenever he visited the nation, all expenses covered by the General Mahamatra himself.

All that’s left is to deliver the somewhat ambitious gift.

Nervousness is not an emotion Cyno experiences frequently, but he feels the stirrings of it now as he stands stiffly at the edge of the dock overlooking the newly arrived ship from Inazuma, his gift hidden away in an envelope behind his back. For a brief moment, Cyno contemplates stuffing the envelope back into his satchel and pretending nothing had happened. What if it’s too much? Too presumptuous? Is he overstepping a line that should not be crossed? All those questions and more swirl inside his head, but are soon silenced as he spots Heizou jogging down the gangplank.

Just the sight of him is enough to quell the restless storm within him; he’ll follow through with his plan, no matter the consequences. His decision made, Cyno relaxes his shoulders, lips curling into a small smile as he takes a short step towards his partner. 

“ Aboat time you washed into shore, ” He delivers the poor pun (he’s saving his best for later) with a straight face, drawing his arm from behind his back to hold out the envelope to Heizou. “ For you. Happy birthday. ”

The journey from Inazuma to Sumeru remains surreal to someone as unused to the sight of the ocean entirely encompassing his surroundings as Heizou is even after the dozenth time partaking in it - the endless blue offering him a sense of peace (there are no constraints in the middle of nowhere, no fatal dangers, no murderous creatures, no whimsical lightning strikes to be cautious of) but there is also far too much idle time on his hands to spend within the confines of his mind, faced with naught but the low murmur of the passing waves and the widespread freedom to think of anything and everything without worry of interruption.

Typically, the silence aids in Heizou's endeavors of planning the key points of his trip or cracking ancient yet unsolved cases as a side hobby, but today the silence feels beyond lonely, suffocating rather, as though the detective has found himself underneath the waves rather than above them. It's a common occurrence for his mood to drop as soon as his birthday rolls around, particularly so when he cannot find relief in hiding behind orchestrated distractions to pass the time until his birthday is no more, and a part of him wonders whether it'd have been for the better to schedule this trip for another time, or whether it'd have been simpler on him to extend an offer to someone to join him on the trip.

A hollow laugh escapes at the idea, one hand reaching to touch the stanchion while the redhead gazes towards the horizon. Neither could've worked, for Sara has granted him time off with his special day in mind (an awfully sensible thing of her to do, and frankly Heizou isn't sure how to feel about it) and there isn't anyone he wishes to bother with a request as inane as "spend some time with me" when everyone he knows is leading busy lives that could do without his extra interference. Kazuha isn't there anyway, and Shinobu is busy with interviews... nevermind his family. When was the last time he has even seen any of them, other than his cousin? When was the last time they had even cared to spend his birthday with him, or to gift him anything that wasn't meant for his future as the dojo's owner?

A fleeting pang of his heart ensues at the rather pathetic realization (there is no one else he can deem a friend in the land he's lived all his life, nor do his blood ties care about his existence beyond their own reputation), but an abrupt & rough inhale of air followed by a longwinded exhale (a tested & tried method) breaks the detective out of the depressive slope he may have otherwise found himself sliding down on, and Heizou attempts to refocus his attention onto something better suited for his precious time than brooding. That isn't like him, after all (he never allows it to be).

Although with far more effort than usually required, the hours-long voyage ends without a hitch. Little progress has been made in any of the cases he's tried to piece together along the way, and his mental state hasn't quite recovered from what it has been like ever since the day has started, but resiliently as ever, Heizou finds himself determined to banish the lows and concentrate on the highs as the brief turbulence heralds the ship's arrival in Sumeru. The fact alone seems to brighten the detective's spirits by a smidgen, both as a promise to soon meet with his dear friend, and as a welcoming of distractions sure to come in the shape of the city's hustle and bustle.

Perhaps the sudden wave of excitement at the prospect is what brings some spring to Heizou's steps, but he grows slightly more energized than he'd been until that point, vibrantly making his way onto the docks. It certainly helps that an overly familiar head of white hair also pops into view as soon as he glances in Sumeru's direction, and Heizou cannot help the fond chuckle that escapes him at both at the sight itself and at the very much expected pun that greets him. He's heard better ones before, but Cyno's expressionless way of uttering every joke never fails to bring a smile onto his face, nor does the other's mere presence ever fail to uplift his mood.

It's such a simple thing, and yet Heizou already feels much better than he has all day. ❛ I was wondering what joke you'd be starting today off with. If only my friends from back home knew I have the privilege of hearing puns like these every time I visit Sumeru, they'd be envious for shore. ❜ A warmer smile stretches on his features after replying in kind (a habit he may well fall into in Inazuma too if left unchecked) and for a moment Heizou contemplates opening his mouth again, to either talk about his trip or to inquire about where his accommodations are this time around, or perhaps even to invite Cyno for lunch.

However, the unexpected birthday wish that leaves Cyno's mouth next knocks the air out of Heizou's lungs, his cheerful persona breaking apart for a fleeting moment while his smile subconsciously wavers and his eyes widen in response. There are many emotions swirling through him all at once (shock, confusion, disbelief), plenty of which must have made their way onto the surface as well, and even though verdants manage to glance down at the gift and understand that he isn't imagining it, the redhead remains at a loss (for words, and for what to think of any of this). ❛ ......You... ❜ -knew? ❛ I... ❜ -don't believe I've ever told you when my birthday is.

The lack of cohesion in any of his attempts to speak prompts Heizou to not speak at all, the temporary silence growing fairly awkward while he works on gluing himself back together into a more presentable self. It's with great effort that he manages to smile brightly again (although this time around it tethers on the falser side than the genuine one he'd worn before), brushing off his initial reaction to the gift as simply being shocked by the surprise rather than owning a deep distaste for his birthday & a heavy unfamiliarity to being thought of in such a manner.

How is he meant to readily accept this as reality when no one else has ever put nearly as much effort into celebrating his birthday in all the years he can remember? ❛ You sure know how to leave a man speechless, Cyno. ❜ A laugh, practiced enough to not sound as broken as he feels, and Heizou gracefully extends a hand to welcome and accept the gift. ❛ Do you mind if I open it now, or should I leave it for later? ❜ His tone is upbeat, a stark contrast to the brief accident from moments prior.

Ever so slowly, curiosity peeks its way onto the fray, driving the detective to want to know what gift the other could've spent his resources on with him in mind - though truth be told, Heizou considers himself unable to be disappointed even if nothing but a single coupon lies inside the envelope (the thought alone... the endeavor of finding out when his birthday is in spite of his never mentioning it... the act of gifting him something, anything - that is more than enough for him to forever be grateful to Cyno for).

Heizou's gaze is attentive to every detail on Cyno's face as he waits for an affirmation or a denial to his subtle request (not wishing to impose - especially not now after forcing his friend to watch the sorry sight that constituted his initial reaction to a gift even existing in the first place) and only once he receives the okay for it does he deftly open the envelope, eyes carefully reading the words written on the license he finds inside.

For a second time, Heizou's eyes widen as he forgos the act of breathing entirely, certain that he must be reading something wrong, or failing to pick up on something between the lines. More conscientiously than before, he blinks and rereads it from the top to the bottom, diligently making sure not to gloss over a single word - and yet the result is the same as it had been the first time. The "detective license" words seem to stare back at him alongside the nation the license has been issued by & for, and this is one of the few times in his life that Heizou can attest to an out of body sensation (the first one ever when the occasion that prompted it is happy rather than tragic). "Shikanoin Heizou"... a detective license meant for him, in a nation that he has done little to deserve something this grand? Not to mention how hard it is to obtain one even after proving one's worth---

Inhaling just enough air to keep his body from ceasing to function, Heizou's gaze lifts to stare into Cyno's eyes in a silent query, a plea to tell him now if he's misunderstanding something or interpreting this poorly, but no such negative answer comes, and the reality of it all suddenly hits Heizou akin to a wave hitting a capsizing ship in a stormy night. But this is no stormy night, it's the brightest day he can recall on ever having; and this is no drowning feeling as much as it is the feeling of finally breathing again after having previously been submerged. He opens his mouth to say something - a thank you to express his gratitude, a question from the myriad that are circling in his mind, an anything that might escape him in reply really, but a salty taste finds itself on his tongue, and only after glancing down at the odd drop of water on the license does Heizou realize he's crying.

A low gasp accompanies his realization and the redhead has half a mind to wipe his tears on the back of his hand and try to regain his composure before thanking & reassuring Cyno that these are happy tears rather than sad ones, but instead he glances at his friend again, and the worried expression he's met with only warms his heart further, softening and making it beat even faster than before (to think that Cyno is worrying about him now... even though he's been nothing but a rude mess in the face of a heartfelt gift the other must've been through hellish trials to obtain... it feels almost wrong of him to be as happy about it as he is).

Perhaps he should follow his usual, trusty logic, but the overflow of emotions has even Teyvat's best detective beat - and Heizou can't stop himself from almost jumping into Cyno's arms, tightly embracing him in an attempt to convey how he feels in a way that words could never manage. ❛ Thank you, Cyno... really... I love it. ❜ Is all he manages to shakily let out against Cyno's skin amid the tears (and he'll have to apologize for those too, once he'll catch his breath) but the soft giggle that follows and the grip he has on the other (which spares not even the air that could've separated their bodies) speak enough about Heizou's mood on their own that they'll hopefully ease the anxious tension his friend must feel by even a bit.

The port is generally busy enough to not warrant just anyone a glance, but this particular sight might be an exception to the unspoken rule - after all, when would anyone ever be able to say they've seen someone (a foreigner, no less) happily embracing the General Mahamatra himself, and being met with no punishment for it, ever again? For once, though, Heizou doesn't care to pay potential bystanders any mind, instead focusing every bit of his attention onto the calming scent of Cyno's hair and the coming to terms he has to do with his newfound circumstances.

❛ You really outdid yourself... ❜ A soft whisper, only for the two of them to hear, much like the rest of Heizou's words. ❛ How did you know it's my birthday today...? And how- how did you manage to issue a detective license for me? I know what I went through to get one back in Inazuma, and that's the place I was born... so I know it couldn't have been easy for you to obtain it... ❜ An acknowledgement Cyno most definitely deserves for everything he's done, and although Heizou has managed to somewhat comprehend this situation, he still cannot believe anyone would go this far for him (of their own volition too).

And for his birthday no less, the one day that has given him more anxiety over the years than even the worst of the cases he's worked on. What a deeply ironic thing, to watch the day he's disliked the most now prove to also be his happiest... His heart steadily tempers as he slightly shifts his head to rest his cheek on Cyno's shoulder, making no move to put distance between them (though allowing Cyno to easily do so if desired), and Heizou glances up at the other with a small, authentic smile, awaiting an answer while remaining partly deep in his own thoughts.

Come to think of it... this is the first honest gift he's received that has even a smidgen to do with his own interests rather than the giver's... isn't it?

[keeps-ache]

the heels of my pants are wet !!

[daesungindistress]

Recently a Seungri stan messaged me privately to tell me she loves my old DaeRi fanfiction, pointed out one in particular that she reads "every once in a while," and even called me an author she loves. Four or more years ago this sort of feedback on my writing would have been encouraging, and I'd have thanked her for it. Nowadays, though, given the circumstances of that man and his fans, it was... let's just say unsettling.

Ever since the events of 2019 I've had conflicting feelings about my old writing and have many times considered pulling certain pieces down. I left the stories alone, untouched, partly for myself, as a repository of sorts, a public written record of a time past, because I can be stupidly sentimental like that, and partly for Dae stans, who I thought might still like them as long as they could look past the unpleasantness of the pairing's other half.

I expected people would react sensibly to BIGBANG's big change and hoped readers would enjoy my fanfics with the understanding that the past is the past and should be left as such. Accepting and embracing the group in its new form, as it has been since 2019 -- as four. The decision to let it be was certainly not made with fans of Seungri in mind, who by all rights shouldn't exist anymore.

Sad to say, they do. Not only can I not accept their gratitude, a compliment from one on my years-old stories featuring Seungri really upset me. It was an uneasy reminder that my old indulgences can still influence new fans and (mis)lead them into liking, sympathizing with, and supporting Seungri now, in the present, even after all that's happened. Disregarding his departure from the group and defending all the unsavory things about him that have come to light in the years since those stories were written.

Some time ago, on AO3, I turned off notifications for comments and kudos on everything with the mindset that if people were still reading and taking pleasure in my writing from so long ago, I didn't want to know. I thought that what I didn't know couldn't hurt me. But that isn't enough, I now realize. I didn't consider the potential side effects on others outside my target audience. I can't in good conscience look away any longer and allow those positive portrayals made by my hand to stand, even if it is only fiction, because Seungri is a real person who's done real harm, and quite a lot of it. By committing real crimes, and quite a lot of them. He has real power over people, power he's abused, with real-world consequences. And in a way, as a content creator... I have that power too.

So I've finally done what I should have done ages ago and have taken those stories down. It doesn't undo the damage, but at least I can breathe a little easier knowing my past work, which had been wildly overdue for removal, will no longer contribute to the problem still plaguing this band and its fandom today. If there's one lesson I've taken to heart in the years since Burning Sun, it's that I have a duty and a responsibility to do better. We all do.

[waugh-bao]

[astralmarionette]

i think someone should kill me. violently. make my body unidentifiable. dismember me. discard my limbs in different parts of town.

[deadtime-stories]

[thanksfortheflaglove]

.

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ it's a gift (you keep those) ]❜

ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ giving him a plushie that reminded you of him┊1k words

setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: fluff, crushes, probably ooc but he’s so cute & wade is hard to write for, written for dp&w logan so idk if he got gifts in xmen, i forgot about laura, they are in touch and have a wonderful father-daughter relationship, i’m so sorry, edited

➤ author's note: i have so many thoughts but too incompetent to write

logan’s never sure who will appear when he opens the door as wade’s quite the extrovert, either vanessa or one of his many other friends whom he’s now become somewhat acquainted with, but he certainly wasn’t expecting to meet the familiar eyes of the cute neighbor who lived a few doors down. he nervously scratched the back of his head, suddenly becoming aware of his shabby appearance, “uh, are you looking for wade?”

“no, i was actually looking for you!” god, your smile is so bright, it’s blinding. he normally hates perfume of any sort as it’s so overpowering to his heightened senses, but the one that you wore smelled so lovely like always. is that a new shade of lip gloss you’re wearing? it really suits you. (why on earth is he noticing all of these details out of the blue? he needs to snap out of whatever spell you put on him after being introduced when he first showed up and only interacting in passing since then).

“looking for me?” he repeated, in disbelief, trying his best not to allow his surprise to slip into his voice. considering he isn’t from this dimension and not the most agreeable person to be around, he had no friends of his own yet and hasn’t been visited by anyone since he got here. a beat of panic struck him, thinking that he was in trouble for something and you came to complain. he really couldn’t think of any other reason you were here for him even though you were so cheerful.

you were carrying some shopping bags with you, dropping them on the ground before reaching into one and pulling out a large fuzzy plushie of a gray cat hidden under layers of glittery tissue paper, “i saw this cutie when i went shopping with my friends and thought it looked like you!” you held it out for him to take, looking so proud of the stuffed animal.

he hesitated for a second before accepting it, trying to take in the fact that you were reminded of him in your day-to-day life. it made his heart flutter, and he found himself dumbfounded by the feeling. he was frequently teased by his roomate about his little “crush” on you, claiming that it was oh so obvious and that the sooner he accepted it, the better, but he never realized until now how pathetic he was when it came to you. was the wolverine really getting butterflies like a fucking schoolgirl in his old-ass age? thank god no one was home right now to bully him about it, he would never hear the end of it.

“it does not look like me,” he scoffed playfully after a quick examination.

“no, it definitely does! it’s a big, grumpy kitty—” you took a step closer to hold it with him, pointing at all the similarities you observed, although it was clear you were exaggerating for laughs. “see the little frowny face and ears? it could be your identical twin separated from birth! willy mentioned that you act like a cat most of the time, and i think it fits perfectly!”

the smile he didn’t realize was plastered on his face faltered at the last piece of information, grateful that you didn’t notice. that idiot has been talking about him to you? he might as well forget about any chance of getting with you, because knowing how he yaps without a filter and loves to play matchmaker, you probably think he’s a freak of some sort. “only good things, i hope…”

you giggled, the sweetest sound he ever heard. “of course, he’s really fond of you… well, maybe a bit too fond, but you already know about that!” you opened your mouth to continue the conversation or say something else, but your phone started ringing and you excused yourself, looking a little shy as you grabbed up your bags. “i’ll talk to you later!” you sounded so excited about the prospect of it before leaving, your voice and footsteps becoming fainter as you walked back to your place.

“wait, you didn’t take back the cat—”

“it’s a gift! you keep those!”

“oh… right…”

he lingered for a moment, unable to say much in response since you left in such a rush. when was the last time someone gave him a present? staring at this brand new item, he still couldn’t see the resemblance in any way, but knowing that it was a gift from you gave him a rare feeling of happiness which returned every time he looked at it from then on among his few possessions. 

“oh my goodness, what is this adorable thing?!” wade exclaimed when he saw it sitting on the couch where logan slept, picking it up to gawk at before tossing it up in the air and catching it before it hit the floor. “ooh, let me guess, it’s a gift from her, isn’t it?” 

the mutant groaned at his mocking tone. “put it down before you ruin it with your grubby hands,” he commanded, snatching it from his grasp (rough enough to make his point clear, but carefully enough not to tear it apart). his roommate didn’t even bother pretending to be offended like he usually would as he was simply overjoyed that his “ship” was coming true. “it doesn’t mean anything, don’t make it weird.”

“it doesn’t mean anything?! how can you say that when it’s going to be the first gift you give to your first child together—”

“first what??”

“nevermind, what are you gonna name it?”

“i have to name it?”

“have you never owned a stuffed animal before? you have to name it! how heartbroken is she going to be when she asks what you named it and you say that you haven’t done that?! she’s gonna think that you don’t value her gifts!” you would think the world was going to end if he didn’t do so if you heard the way he was speaking.

“fine, i’ll name it…” he looked deeply into the toy’s soulless eyes, noting how soft the outer material was against his calloused hand, “... fluffy…”

“that’s such a shitty name—”

“shut the fuck up, it’s been decided.”

[witchywcmans]

PLEASE, EAT. | LAIOS TOUDEN

synopsis ━━ after you've been bitten by a sea serpent, you know the consequences are either death or the possibility of turning into one yourself. thankfully for you, laios touden is the devourer of all things monster and he is dedicated to getting that venom out of you. (laios x f!reader.)

content warnings ━━ sex pollen-adjacent, cunnilingus + fingering, praise, breath play (kinda, if you squint), semi-public sex, multiple orgasms. nsfw (minors + ageless blogs dni).

word count ━━ 3k

song inspiration ━━ too sweet, hozier / more than friends, isabel larosa

author's note ━━ this is the first time I've ever written and posted an x reader one-shot on here, so please be gentle with me lol. I usually only write x oc fics bc I'm a yapper and I love creating characters. but alas...I was perusing the laios x reader tag and wanted to read something with this plot, couldn't find it, so I figured I'd just do it myself 🫡

🪽 part i: PLEASE, EAT. / part ii: FORBIDDEN FRUIT. / part iii: TOO SWEET.

This was definitely one of the worst situations you’d been in.

You had joined Laios’ adventuring party just a few months prior. They had found you on floor 3 of the dungeon, shivering and mourning the loss of your father. His body, dead in your arms, and beside him lay the lifeless body of a ghoul you had killed. At first, the party’s leader, Laios Touden, had only been interested in taking the ghoul's body so they could use its bones for utensils after the flesh rotted off. But it was Marcille who noticed the tears in your eyes, how you trembled from the cold, and suggested they take you in. You almost declined, not wanting to leave your father’s body, but knowing he’d soon turned into a monster left you with only one option. Your father had been with you for the past twenty-five years of your life, and now, you were leaving his dead body in a dungeon to travel with a group of strangers.

You soon came to appreciate your new party, though, and you felt your father’s spirit within each of them. Marcille had his kindness, Chilchuck had a comparable wit, Senshi was gifted with excellent cooking skills, and Laios … well, you were still figuring that out. And surprisingly, it was Laios who you began to connect with the most. His knowledge of monsters was unmatched, and he had a passion for learning how to prepare them while they traveled deeper into the dungeon. He was overtly blunt, much like you, and possessed similar advanced fighting skills due to both your fathers' teachings.

Sometimes … sometimes though, you found yourself staring at him more than you should have. His face was abnormally perfect, as if he’d been carved by an artist. His tousled ash-blonde hair reminded you of a lion, and his eyes … sometimes you could’ve sworn they were made out of gold, shimmering like molten lava. Each time you thought this way, you smacked yourself when no one else was looking. I mean, Laios was your friend, your party leader. Having a crush, especially in circumstances like these, was unethical. You had always been focused on one thing: helping your party and making it out of this dungeon alive, for your father. You wouldn’t let a little crush deter you.

Everything had been all well and good until today, when you and your party reached the end of floor 4. When Laios had struggled to fight off a sea serpent, you joined him in the lukewarm water, using your crossbow to shoot the creature in the head. Finally, Laios was able to step in to slice the serpent’s head off … but not before the creature could snap its jaw, tearing one fang down your hip. You jumped back, screaming as you felt the venom seep into you instantly. Some said sea serpent venom would kill you immediately, others said it turned you into one of them, cursing you to haunt the waters with them as penance. As soon as the head was cut, Laios carried you away from the water, and the last thing you heard was Marcille cursing him out before you were rendered unconscious. 

You were woken up – hours, maybe days later – by a drop of water hitting your face every few seconds. Lifting your head from the makeshift tunic pillow, you took in your surroundings. You were at the entrance of floor 5, in a damp corner of cobblestone, while water dripped down onto the floor every so often. There was a moist bandage covering your side where the serpent’s fang had cut into you, part of your tunic ripped to shreds. Hunger boiled in your stomach, making you groan and rub your head. Laios was sitting just a few feet away, a small fire in front of him to keep warm. Marcille had to have helped him with that; there was no way to craft a fire in an area this damp.

“Am I dead?” You asked softly. 

Laios immediately turned in your direction, his mouth lifting in a smile. “Of course not.”

Your stomach did flip flops as you took in his smile, hunger consuming you. You needed something to eat – bad. Your body felt hot and sweaty, and you wondered if it was just from the humidity, even though Laios didn’t look affected. Sitting up, you informed him, “Well, that was one of two options my father said would happen from a sea serpent bite. Which means …” You lifted the bandage up, noticing the gills that started to form on the healing wound. A turquoise hue surrounded the gills, almost like a bruise. “Oh, fuck,” you muttered.

Laios stood, looming over you while asking, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s the other option,” you replied, too hungry to cry. “The bite is –”

“– Turning you into a sea serpent,” Laios finished. “Honestly, I thought that was just a myth. But when the bite didn’t kill you …” His mouth twitched, tongue darting out to wet the corners of his lips. “We have to suck the venom out. That has to stop the mutation.”

Your head snapped up. “Huh?” 

But as soon as your eyes met his, you started to wondered if what you were experiencing was hunger after all. Perhaps … a different kind of hunger. Laios stared down at you, the sparkling gold replaced by a dark hazel. It was just you two in this little corner of the dungeon, but you suddenly felt exposed, so naked, under his gaze. Your body was hot all over, sweat sticking to uncomfortable places. And your thighs … a burning need emerged between them, soaking the thin linen of your undergarments. This had to be a symptom of the bite, but it suddenly didn’t matter anymore. Your worry had been replaced by an ache that only he could fix.

No – absolutely not. You couldn’t. You shouldn’t. You were turning into a sea serpent.

But the need between your legs still throbbed.

“It’s like when a snake bites you on the surface,” Laios said, crouching down to your eye level. His closeness made your heart rate pick up. You realized then that he had shed his armor, kneeling in front of you in just his gambeson, which clung to his muscles and wide frame. “A sea serpent is part snake. Sucking out the venom should stop the mutation. You’ll probably experience symptoms from the bite for a few more hours, but they’ll stop eventually.” 

He started to peel back the bandage, taking a look at the gills forming on your hip when you gripped his wrist. Immediately, his skin burned, making you even more hot. You ripped your hand away from him, and with sweat trickling down the side of your face, you said, “Don’t you think this is … weird? Maybe Marcille should do it.”

“Marcille and the others just went back to another part of the level to find dinner. They won’t return for an hour, at least. This can’t wait.” He inspected the turquoise gills with concern, before his eyes snapped back to yours, noticing the way your black pupils filled almost the entire iris. “Do you not trust me?”

“Of course, I trust you. It’s just …” What exactly was the reason again? Oh, yes, it was pulsating hunger dripping between your legs from the bite, and you were terrified how you’d react the second his lips wrapped around your wound. The symptoms would just get worse. But he was right – this was the only way. Fuck, this had to be the most embarrassing thing you’d ever experienced. 

“Fine,” you finally relented, lying back down on the cobblestone. You did your best to get comfortable, but the makeshift pillow hardly provided much cushion between you and the floor.  “What should I do?”

“Nothing, just lay back and let me take care of it.” Laios lifted your tunic a smidge, and just the tenor of his voice made your ache even worse. “We’re just gonna … get this out of the way. And then …” His fingers hooked on the waistband of your pants, and you immediately clutched his collar. If you touched his skin again, you were sure to moan.

Laios looked from where your hand was gripping him and back to your eyes. “Your pants need to be off so I can have better access to the mutation. It’s on your hip.” You swallowed hard, knowing he was right, and your hand started to slip off his collar. “We’re friends, right?” He asked.

You nodded weakly.

“Good,” he smiled again, and you struggled to hold back a plea for him to touch you. He pulled down your pants, tossing them to the side. For a moment, he paused, taking in your soaked underwear and running his fingers over the mutation on your hip. He licked his lips again, and then said in a rather blunt tone, “You’re so –”

“Don’t say it,” you cut in, snapping your eyes shut to prevent further embarrassment.  Though you had never minded Laois’ occasional lack of social cues, this was one of those moments you needed anything but. “Just get the venom out.”

Laios tugged your underwear down a little to see if the mutation had spread. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he informed you, lowering his head to your hip. “I’ve read that these bites can have a multitude of internal symptoms. Nightmares ... sweating … fever …” He ran his tongue over the gills, making your breath hitch instantly. “… And especially, arousal. Neat, huh?” He chuckled, and just his warm breath on the gills made you even more wet. “Don’t worry, I got you,” he assured before finally wrapping his mouth on the wound.

Your body burned even hotter than before as soon as his lips touched your skin. He sucked the venom out of you, spitting out blue globs every other second. His hands gripped your side, digging into your flesh and leaving crescent shapes from his nails. As you felt the gills start to close up, you couldn’t help but moan and arch into nothing. This felt better than any time you masturbated … any time you imagined your party leader above you … Fuck, who would’ve thought sucking sea serpent venom out of you would feel this good? Thank the gods the rest of their party was off catching dinner. You couldn’t deal with them possibly hearing this.

It surprised you when your orgasm flooded through you like a crashing wave. As Laios finished sucking out the last of the venom and the mutation closed, your arousal came to a definite peak and you let out a whine. You grabbed his arm, cumming from absolutely no stimulation.

Laios didn’t seem to mind though. In fact, he was mostly preoccupied with inspecting the area. You opened your eyes, your cheeks tinged pink, and saw the globs of venom to the left dissipate to nothing but water. You pinched the bridge of your nose, “I’m sorry, I –”

“The mutation closed. I was right!” Laios looked down at you, a big grin covering his face. “How do you feel?”

“Well, I definitely don’t feel a second set of lungs on my hip anymore.” You lifted your hand when you noticed a trickle of blue staining his lip, wiping it away with your thumb. “But I … my body is still …” The ache inside you had simmered slightly, but it was still there, lingering underneath the surface. 

This was genuinely humiliating. Maybe you should’ve just decided to turn into a sea serpent after all.

Laios grabbed your wrist before you could pull away from his face. He leaned into your palm, running his long nose down to your inner wrist. “Your skin is so warm. I can still smell how aroused you are from the serpent bite.” His eyes burned into yours, keeping your hand close to his face. “I can help. Do you need another release?”

Your cheeks got even more red when he acknowledged your orgasm. Shaking your head, you said, “I couldn’t ask you to do that. I can just –”

“I’d be honored to,” he replied, quite gruffly and persistent. His fingers tugged your underwear down with precision and ease, despite the damp fabric clinging to you. He spread your legs wide and placed them on his shoulders. Lowering himself down, he inhaled the scent of your climax and hooked his arms around your inner thighs. He smiled up at you – your pretty face red with embarrassment – all dopey-eyed and grateful. “You lot like to call me the devourer of monsters. Perhaps I should devour the last bit of monster out of you.”

He inhaled again, groaning like he typically did when he was hungry. His hot breath against your achingly wet pussy made you whimper with desperation. “You smell so good down here,” he whispered. “I’d wager you taste even better.”

You gasped as soon as he dove between your legs, licking a stripe through your folds, tasting your recent orgasm. He flicked his tongue over your clit before sucking on it with feverish excitement. Slick gathered on his tongue and he whined, needing more. So much more. You were the most delicious meal he’d ever tasted. Better than any monster, better than anything on the surface. 

“So good,” he muttered into your pussy, lapping against your clit, doing anything that would get him more of your arousal. “You taste so, so good.”

You whimpered out his name and attempted to close your legs, but he held them opened with all his strength. His arms wrapped around your thighs went tight, bruising the sensitive flesh. Your jaw went slack while your own hands scrambled for purchase, eventually landing in his cropped hair. You tugged, hips bucking against his face, making him groan even more. This allowed him to hold your hips a little higher, and his tongue finally dipped into your leaking entrance. You heard him grunt the second he plunged his tongue deeper, his nose nuzzling your clit. 

He devoured you like a starved man. He devoured you like you were a boiled scorpion, or roast basilisk, or – even better – like sweet, delicious homemade cheesecake. 

“Laios,” you whined, feeling your fever dissolve with each lap of his tongue. “Laios, it’s … fuck – it’s okay, I feel –”

“Need more,” he muttered, his voice low and laced with need. He was practically humping the stone floor as he buried his tongue as far as it could go inside you. Your hips couldn’t stop bucking forward, riding his face as you felt your orgasm building at the base of your stomach. Laios was completely transfixed. He wanted to be here, nestled between your thighs, for every meal. He’d take you away from the rest of the group before dinner, lapping away to the sounds of your pleas and whimpers, so help him gods. He’d do this every day, every night, whenever you wanted, for as long as he was alive. Fuck monsters. He could survive off the taste of you for the rest of his life.

Slipping his tongue out of your hole, he went back to sucking on your throbbing clit and feeling your legs start to tremble. You had to be close to another release, and he was desperate to taste it. He paid all his attention on your clit, snaking one hand up and sinking two fingers knuckle-deep into your entrance in tandem. “Fuck,” you moaned, tugging on his hair once again, “fuck – gods, Laios. I – I’m s-so close –”

“Please,” he begged, smearing your slick all over his mouth. “Please, you’re so good. Need to see how you taste when you release on my tongue.” His own hips continued to buck against the floor.

You choked on a cry when you finally came all over his tongue. He groaned, loud and drawn out, when he finally got a taste of your sweet climax, knowing that it was him that brought you to this point. The orgasm felt long, like the ocean bringing you in and out, and your whole body trembled. He continued lapping at your clit as it pulsed under his tongue, his fingers curling inside you through your orgasm. When you finally breathed out and started to come down from the high of it all, Laios stayed between your thighs, allowing his tongue to gently swirl your clit. Maybe if he continued, he could taste a little more of you …

You found your voice, hoarse from overstimulation. “Laios, please, you have to stop,” you begged, yanking his head up from between your legs. His mouth was covered in your slick, and then he was giving you that dopey expression again, making your heart clench. Your body was no longer hot and sweaty. Laios had completely cured you of the sea serpent bite with that expert mouth of his. He unwound his arms from your thighs, bringing his fingers that were still covered with your wetness to his mouth, tasting the last of your orgasm. You watched him, eyes wide and cheeks blushing, until he was looking at you again with those golden doe eyes.

“That was amazing,” he said, like he was in a haze. When your eyes flickered down, you realized he was hard in his pants, but it wasn’t like he even noticed himself with the way he was staring at you. “We should do that again sometime.”

He stood up, and you scrambled to pull your clothes back on before the group came back. You stammered, “It’s okay, uh – we don’t have to. Especially if you don’t want to. We could just –”

“I want to,” he cut in, a determined look in his eyes. “What are friends for, right?” 

[foldingfittedsheets]

I worked retail for a long time and people really do treat you like shit sometimes. But between selling sex toys, mattresses, and jewelry I can say definitively I got treated worst selling mattresses.

All three of my jobs were in sales but selling sex toys we were allowed to put people in their place, and in jewelry people didn’t want to misbehave in a fancy setting. But people at the mattress store had no problem yelling at me, hitting on me, or insulting me to my face.

For a while I was managing my own store for the company. I ran a small location and had struggling employees placed with me for rehabilitation. If their numbers improved they could go back to bigger stores. If not, they got fired.

So this meant I was the manager of problem employees. At one point both of my people had a foot out the door. The company was going downhill and changed computer systems and they were fed up. Consequently, they made a ton of mistakes, because they just didn’t care about the job or learning the new systems.

I strolled into work on what was essentially my Monday to a shit show. Deliveries scheduled without product, wrong things on orders, poor expectations of the process, you name it. I spent the entire morning getting yelled at for mistakes that weren’t mine.

The final straw came when a man called furious that his moms bed for her nursing home had a delivery window he couldn’t accommodate. This wasn’t a huge disaster since we still had time to deliver it before she moved. I ran him through the options and he just kept screaming at me. Not for a solution but because I was there and he was frustrated.

My heart filled with malice and a cold fury. A calculating part of my brain had a realization in that moment that I could stay a punching bag or I could strike back.

I quavered my voice delicately, taking in a shaky, warbling breath like I was trying not to cry. “Sir,” I quivered through fake tears, “I don’t know what you want from me! I told you what I can do, I didn’t make this mistake I’m just trying to fix it!” My voice broke pitifully on the last syllables, sounding in all ways like a sweet innocent person being yelled at who’s just trying her best, really!

It was like I’d doused him with cold water. My emotional act was the realization that he was screaming at someone who was just doing their damn job, and he was being an asshole. He hastily made an excuse and hung up.

I had a third employee covering with me from another store that day who heard everything. When I hung up, I looked over to see them watching me with an awed expression. “Did… did you just pretend to cry?”

“I absolutely fucking did,” I said with feeling, “and I’d do it a thousand more times. If that’s what it takes for someone to realize they’re behaving like a fucking prick, they deserve it.” The employee looked at me like I was their hero.

The man called back, apologizing profusely, having magically arranged his schedule to accommodate delivery. He came in later that week with an apology Starbucks gift card. I was gracious in my acceptance.

I pulled it a few more times before leaving the company. I felt no shame in the ruse. If someone behaves so poorly that it’s plausible their behavior would drive someone to tears they deserve to feel absolutely wretched about it.