#this is spectacularly self-indulgent

[kt-the-lee]

No Longer Ruined - Hazbin Hotel Tickle Fic (HuskerDust)

A/N hi everyone!! this is my first fanfic on this account, i used to write a fair bit on my old deactivated account but I stopped for a couple years so i’m a little bit rusty, but i just love these two so much that i simply HAD to write for them! (this was also really self-indulgent for me to write so i hope you enjoy AHHHHH)

inspired by this post by @duckymcdoorknob : “We interrupt our usual programming to bring forth Angel Dust who is terrified of being tickled (bc of Val) until Husk shows him that it doesn’t have to always be torturous.”

Lee!AngelDust, Ler!Husk

warnings: very brief mentions of Angel’s job (not very much detail but important context to the story), sad!Angel

Word count: 2,133

One thing about Angel Dust is that he HATED being tickled.

Well, that wasn’t a complete truth. It was his favourite thing in the world once upon a time, but then it got ruined by various jobs that Val made him undergo. And that did make him quite sad, he wished he could have it in his life again, but he feared it was associated with one too many bad memories at this point.

And now, the thought of it terrified him.

This was made all too apparent when Charlie (the resident tickle monster of the Hazbin Hotel) decided to attack Vaggie in the middle of the lobby one afternoon. This was a regular occurrence, and everyone usually watched fondly as the usually stoic Vaggie let herself laugh (that is until the tables turned and Charlie then gets absolutely destroyed, she may initiate most tickle fights but usually ends up spectacularly losing them!). However, this was the first time Angel had witnessed this spectacle.

And he just couldn’t bring himself to watch.

The laughs mixed with screams, the squirming, the panicked breathing, it just sent him to a dark place. Where the masses chuckled and cooed at the girlfriends’ antics, Angel felt his breathing hitch and an unpleasant anxiety building in his stomach. Tears pricked in his eyes and he tried to inconspicuously leave the room, unnoticed. Or so he thought.

“Hey, what’s up, you okay?”

Angel turned around and saw Husk, head tilted, a concerned look on his face. Panic shot through him; “oh shit, did everyone notice me leave? That must’ve looked REALLY fucking weird, how am I going to explain-”

“Relax, nobody else saw you go,” Husk said gently, sitting on a nearby couch and directed Angel to take the place next to him. “Everyone was far too distracted watching those dumbasses wreck each other, although it’s a frequent occurrence it does never get boring!” he chuckled as the laughter from the lobby turned up a notch, but then frowned when he saw Angel visibly flinch at the sound.

“I’ve… never seen ‘em do this before,” he explained as he took the seat next to Husk, tensing up slightly as a paw was placed around his shoulders but immediately relaxed. He trusted Husk, perhaps more than anyone in this godforesaken place. But could he explain this?

Husk looked at the spider with concern in his eyes. He was triggered, clearly, but he couldn’t quite piece together why the girls tickling each other had caused this.

“Do you wanna talk about it, Angel? We don’t gotta, but you know I’d never judge you for anything. We’re both losers, don’t ya forget that, so nothing is off-limits.”

Angel looked up at the cat, debating for a full minute as to whether he was going to indulge. However, as he heard Charlie squeal from the room over from them and physically had to hide his head in his hands, he figured an explanation was desrved.

“I… just…” he stuttered, trying to find the words. “They’ve been ruined for me.”

Husk looked slightly confused. “What have? Tickles?”

“Yeah… there was a week-long shoot a few years back, and it always got taken too far. Lotta ignoring of safewords and not stopping even though I begged and begged and begged, my body felt like it was going to shut down-“ Angel shuddered as he remembered. “I’ve done a lot of weird shit for this job, Husk, ya know? And you know I love to relinquish control. But this, by far, was the one time I felt the most trapped and suffocated.”

The usually stoic Husk felt his heart shatter into a million pieces. Sure, tickling was torturous, that was the POINT. But it was also supposed to have an aspect of fun and trust and love behind it, and the fact that Val had taken that from him made him both upset and absolutely fuming.

“Fuck me, that’s intense.” Husk couldn’t find the words for awhile. “And also fully understandable as to why you’d be triggered now.”

A scream and a giggly “NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEERE” from Charlie in the other room made Angel tense somehow harder than he was before, and Husk tightened his hold around his shoulders.

“If it’s any reassurance, the girls’ dumba ass tickle fights are nothing like that, there’s a lot of silliness and love behind it and it would never ever get taken that far” said Husk, trying to reassure the spider. “Infact, I’m fairly sure they both love every second of it, no matter how much they protest in the moment.”

“Oh I know that, really I do.” said Angel. “ I know what they’re MEANT to be like, it’s like I said, they were ruined for me.”

Oh?

So that meant…

“You used to like being tickled?” Husk enquired, a slight grin in his voice as he enjoyed the thought of his sweet spider enjoying something so silly. That thought was fleeting as he realised how that was no longer true because of his job, and Val. God. the things he could do to that bastard for breaking Angel like this…

Angel nodded, cheeks burning slightly. “A whole lot, used to ask Cherry for it all the time. But I fear I’m too far gone now, I’m too scared it’ll go too far and people won’t stop.” Angel sighed, and flinched again as the laughter somehow got EVEN LOUDER through the walls (what on EARTH was Vaggie doing to Charlie?). “I want to like it again, I do think about it a lot still.”

“We can try now, if you like?”

Husk looked into Angel’s eyes to gauge his reaction. He couldn’t tell by that one sentence if he had just put the fear of god into him, or hit the nail on the head with exactly the best way to fix this.

Angel couldn’t tell, either. On the one hand, the thought of being tickled again terrified him. He had managed to avoid it as much as he could outside of work, and even in work he would try and steer the content towards other things. However, he knew deep down that he wanted this back in his life. He trusted Husk, so maybe this would be the perfect way to ease back into it? He deliberated, and made his decision.

“Yeah… okay.”

Husk breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn’t overstepped a boundary, and felt the grin returning to his face as he figured out the best way to do this.

“Anything I should know before we try this out? Now is the time for boundaries, my little spider-” said Husk, a teasing tone already etched into his voice which made Angel chuckle and roll his eyes.

“Stop when I tell you to-“

“That’s a given, dumbass, I was gonna do that anyway.”

That made Angel relax, he wasn’t used to people listening to his pleas. Maybe this would actually be okay…

“Oh… okay! Uhhhh, no foot stuff please, that was always Val’s… yeah. Favourite. So that’d probably send me into a panic.”

He thought for a second.

“Otherwise…. youregoodtogo-“ he mumbled as he buried his face in Husk’s chest, preparing himself. Oh god, what if this was a bad idea? What if he just hated it no matter what? What if he yelled at or hurt Husk? What if-

All thoughts in his head were silenced as the paw that was placed on his shoulder began to walk ever-so-gently around his bicep. Husk traced his entire upper arm slowly and delicately, before moving all the way round to where Angel’s underarm met his ribcage.

“This okay?”

Angel could only nod, a trace of a smile forming on his lips as Husk began to lightly scritch the spot. Nothing too intense, nothing that would overhelm him. But it couldn’t be ignored.

Husk felt the spider tense up below him as he used one claw to dance lazy, gentle circles around Angel’s ribcage. He glanced down to make sure he was okay, but it seemed to be more of a tickly flinch than an uncomfortable jerk away, so he persisted, adding more claws to slowly intensify the sensation.

It was then that he heard it.

The giggles.

And it was just the sweetest sound Husk had ever heard.

In fact, he got so distracted by the sound of Angel’s giggles that he subconsciously stopped tickling him to listen. Which, of course, stopped the giggles.

“Hey, ya didn’t need to stop!” said Angel, surprising himself.

“Oh I know… I just got distracted by something” chuckled Husk, beginning the movement of his claws again, as slow and as gentle as before. Angel tensed and giggled again, but didn’t seem to be protesting too much.

Angel had missed this. He had missed being in a safe place where he was free to be held and just let someone dote on him for a bit. Head empty, no control, no expectations, to just relax and feel happy. He couldn’t help his arm flinching against Husks gentle tickles around his ribcage, but he also noticeably lent into both Husk himself and his paws on his ribs.

Husk took this positive body language and gentle giggles to turn it up a notch, scratching with slightly more intent and pressure, making wigging motions with his paw. He also walked his fingers down from Angel’s ribcage to the sides of his stomach.

The spider’s gentle giggles quickly became slightly louder laughs as Husk did this, and initially felt a zap of panic. However, it was impossible to feel unsafe in the arms of the cat, so he let himself feel the sensations. It wasn’t TOO intense, but it was certainly enough for him to squirm and cackle, especially when Husk added a second paw to mirror his actions on the opposite side at the same time.

“Hehehehehey!!” laughed Angel. “Thahahahat was uncahahahahalled for!!”

“Oh was it now?” teased Husk, feeling a little more confident that he wouldn’t end up overwhelming Angel at this point. “Because I don’t hear you protesting, baby. Infact, I’d probably say you’re having a pretty swell time right now!”

“Shuhuhuhut uhuhuhup” protested Angel, cheeks burning redder than the skies of Hell itself. “Teheheheasing mahahahahakes it wOHOHOHORSE-“

Upon the last word of his sentence, Husk moved both of his tickling paws to the front of his stomach, spidering the spider’s belly like there was no tomorrow. Angel SQUEALED, throwing his head back into Husk’s shoulder as he tried and failed to whine about quite how mean he was being right now.

Despite this, there was one thing that Angel couldn’t deny. Fucking hell, he could never deny how much he’d missed this. To be able to enjoy being tickled again without the fear of boundaries being disrespected and his every part of his body panicking as strangers took advantage of him, under Val’s perverted instruction.

“You doing okay down there?!” Husk chuckled, checking in as Angel arched his back and fell backwards onto the couch. Husk had one paw kneading into an armpit whilst the other made various shapes into his tummy. This seemed to be a killer combination as Angel snorted in his cackles and basically folded his body in half.

The cat slowed his attack to let Angel catch his breath, which may have been perfect timing as the spider managed to breathe out a “Stohohop nohohoho mohohore” through his depleting giggles. This made Husk briefly panic, thinking he had took it too far and this had all been for nothing. But the persistent grin and sniling eyes of Angel reassured him that he hadn’t put a foot wrong. Or, rather, a paw wrong.

“Thahahahat was fun” said Angel, residual giggles still pouring from his mouth as he sat himself up, rubbing the leftover tickly feelings away from his torso. “Might take a few goes and a bit of practice, but it certainly is an improvement to fifteen minutes ago!”

Husk felt his heart melt as Angel cuddled back into him and, as the room silenced, the laughter from Charlie and Vaggie’s ordeal STILL could be heard through the walls. However, now it made Angel smile fondly as opposed to being terrified for his life.

“How are they STILL going?” pondered Husk, shaking his head fondly at the sounds from the other room

Angel shrugged, and laughed as he heard Charlie let out a noise not too dissimilar to a squeal that he himself had produced moments earlier. “Shall we go and observe?”

Husk grinned and nodded, tweaking Angel’s side before taking his hand. Angel flinched and tutted at the cat, but couldnt hide the endearing look in his eyes as they ventured back into the lobby to observe the girlfriends tickle fight.

It certainly was a happy day in Hell.

[yanderemisery]

Izuku Midoriya x reader

TW: yandere, non-con, captive reader, god-complex, Izuku being an asshole, clumsy reader.

Naivety, indeed, can be a profound form of bliss, wouldn't you agree? It serves not only her, but him as well. Observing her, in all her bumbling splendor, repeatedly stumble and falter, never internalizing her lessons, epitomizes a certain madness, does it not? The very essence of insanity lies in the repetition of the same actions while anticipating different outcomes.

Yet, regardless of her myriad attempts to flee-whether she runs, screams, weeps, or vociferates her hatred until her voice is hoarse-she invariably returns to her starting point, to where she is meant to be: ensnared in his embrace, under his control, beneath him. Remarkably, he expends no effort to secure this outcome. All he need do is recline and observe as she spectacularly fails, time and again, and then, with a bemused air, retrieve her from the floor, soothing her with gentle reprimands to prevent further self-inflicted harm.

One might ponder how such trivial, flighty, and maladroit creatures persist, evading the culling force of evolution. Perhaps their survival is due to their role as a source of amusement for more advanced beings.

After all, entertainment serves a crucial function, offering brief respites from life's graver troubles, allowing one to indulge in the whimsical folly of a cherished pet.

He performs his own heroics occasionally, and thus, the world permits him this indulgence: a personal, capricious plaything. He deserves this small pleasure.

Moreover, she is inherently reliant on him.

Were it not for his intervention to salvage her from her own blunders, evolution would have swiftly enacted its course and extinguished her existence. Yet, he harbors no expectation that her simple, befuddled mind could grasp this reality; such contemplation would only exacerbate her confusion.

It is better for her to concentrate on simpler matters, such as how to amuse him before he demonstrates just how insignificant she truly is. He frequently engages with her, causing her to cycle through various states of despair due to her inherent forgetfulness and gentle disposition.

He bestows upon her small tokens, baubles like hair bows or necklaces-gifts for her so-called good behavior. These trinkets, easily removed, are accompanied by feigned disappointment and scolding, as if she were a child incapable of maintaining her belongings. He punishes her lightly, then kisses her perturbed, naïve face as she stammers her apologies, utterly oblivious to her perfect alignment with his desires, perfectly suited to his whims.

[i-am-the-oyster]

ALBUMS

Where's The Beef?

According to the man himself, Paul can bash out a song in the time it takes Linda to whip up a soyasome supper. But is this necessarily a good thing?

By Chris Ingham. Illustration by Richard Camps.

Paul McCartney

Flaming Pie PARLOPHONE

McCartney sans band again. Self-penned, played and produced, apart from contributions by Jeff Lynne, Ringo Starr, Steve Miller and son James McCartney.

I'VE STOPPED TRYING TO JUSTIFY LOVING solo McCartney. Of course some of the work of the last 27 years has been slack and misjudged. Yes, his trust in stream-of-consciousness and the inspiration of the moment ("If you're working too hard on something, it probably means its not very good") has left a catalogue with at least as much eccentric, cavalier material as substantial. But if you respond to someone, you respond. A lot of minor McCartney means as much to me as the major. The aloof will sigh; we expect more from a pop giant.

But there is more - the gargantuan Liverpool Oratorio has its moments, his minimalist-impressionist chamber piano piece A Leaf is a charmer, the forthcoming Standing Stones symphony is an intriguing prospect - it's just that these days, pop is only part of what he does. In pop, he's changed the world already, he's had his purple patch, and he hasn't had another genius to run his new songs by for quite a while; that can do things to a man's quality control.

However, though less spectacularly ambitious than the serious work, there is much to be enjoyed here. The indisputable melodic flair, the uplifting, doe-eyed optimism, the daft rockers, all here on Flaming Pie, an album in the McCartney tradition of pretty good, nudging upper middle. If you're hip to him, that's all you'll need.

Though not reaching the coherent, miraculous heights of Band On The Run (1973), it's miles better than the interminable live albums or his last, the heart-sinkingly ordinary Off The Ground ('93). Better, too, than the aberration of Give My Regards To Broad Street ('84) and the not-as-bad-as-you've-heard Press To Play ('86). So, it's probably on a par with Flowers In The Dirt ('89) which, though lauded at the time as a major return to form (prompted, no doubt, by the red herrings that were the awkward McCartney-McManus collaborations), now seems no better/no worse than the slick, unfailingly tunesome Tug Of War ('82) or Pipes Of Peace ('83).

What noses Flaming Pie ahead of the pack, however, is a return to the engaging home-made quality of his earliest solo work. Back in do-it-your-self, down-home primitive miniaturist mode, back on deep-groove drums and bluesy guitar, there are echoes of McCartney (1970) and Ram (1971) here, and it all has an authentic ring of auteur about it. It's not that Beatley, but it's very McCartney.

Some of it is positively reckless, there's a determination to follow the mood, have a laugh, see what happens. Three songs here are little more than jams. Flaming Pie was a self-imposed challenge to finish a track with Jeff Lynne in four hours (like you do). Funny, surreal lyrics, a cracking 3 Legs-type vocal, a thunderous Why Don't We Do It In The Road/Don't Bring Me Down groove and some hilarious, cack-handed barrel-house piano; this is the track I'm playing visitors.

Ringo and Paul lock into a super-taut, muscled riff on Really Love You and McCartney makes up the song as he goes (like Mumbo from Wild Life but with words); mad, indulgent, but kind of happening. Only the duet with Steve Miller on a slinky Texas 12-bar palls. Two minutes of this good-vibe, one-take blues would have been a treat, four minutes feels like eight.

Interspersing this japery is good and OK Macca fare made better, perhaps, by co-producer Jeff Lynne's ear for detail on over half the tracks. There are no obvious ELO/Wilbury mannerisms and, oddly, the ones that sound most like Lynne don't involve him (both the strangely sinister If You Wanna and lightweight, damnably catchy Young Boy - the one he completed in a couple of hours while Linda was tinkering in the kitchen - feature orchestras of acoustic guitars), though the dry-as-a-bone sound and upfront vocals elsewhere betray Lynne's welcome presence.

Track Listing

The Song We Were Singing

The World Tonight

Somedays

If You Wanna

Young Boy

Calico Skies Flaming Pie

Heaven On A Sunday

Used To Be Bad Souvenir

Little Willo w

Really Love You Beautiful Night

Great Day

The Song We Were Singing is a vivid evocation of an evening with friends in the '60s; the sweet, hazy vocal, the trippy twang of the guitar, the struggle to make "...discuss the vast intricacies of life" scan, the soaring, singalong chorus all combine to give the track an enchanting, stoned elegance. Heaven On A Sunday is prime, dreamy Macca with gorgeously textured sound. It also features his son's debut as Dad trades his Oo You guitar licks with 20-year-old James McCartney's Dave Gilmour ones. Souvenir is an oddball beauty; a soulful, lazy thing with a surprise guitar-riff-from-hell and a psychedelic fade. This is all very encouraging, Lynne appears to have helped McCartney sound more like himself, somehow. To be continued, hopefully.

There are three finger-pickin' solo numbers. Calico Skies is an earnest little love song which develops into an anti-war prayer. Somedays is a portentous song of doubt, always threatening to mean something, beautifully decorated by George Martin's arrangement. Great Day manages to allude metrically to the Vincent Youmans's 1930 standard of the same title and melodically to McCartney's own Big Barn Bed in a sweet, throwaway piece of unfeasible optimism. They ain't Blackbird, but they're fine.

It must be noted that the man's singing is a marvel. The grey-around-the-edges folk-balladeering of Calico Skies, the falsetto blues-croon of Heaven On A Sunday, the deliriously uninhibited rock-shriek of Really Love You re-confirm that McCartney's vocal-style range is without equal in pop. Sinatra's pipes had virtually cracked at 55. What is this guy on?

"No sleepless nights over this one," he told Steve Miller. What with the serious stuff people keep asking him to write, who can blame him? Making this will have been a holiday by comparison.

The World's Greatest Living Melodist crown must lay heavy; here McCartney is sporting his Eccentric Primitive Miniaturist colours. Flaming Pie is a fine reminder of how much they suit him.

Paul McCartney talks to Chris Ingham live from his car somewhere in the great British countryside.

Flaming Pie. Pleased with it?

Yeah, like it a lot actually. It's always good when you're proud of what you've done, because when you're not you're always moaning at the record company about how they don't put posters up, or how they don t get plays and all that. But I sort of don't care. Even if radio doesn't take to it, posters don't get put up and people don't say the right things, I've got a feeling that because I like it, I don't give a shit. I'm not sure that's 100 per cent true but the feeling's there. It feels good. I'm comfortable; there's a lot to be said for that.

Don't you feel like this after each new record?

No, not really. You always enjoy like having a new baby, as it were, but this one feels a bit special. It's like Anthology, people would ask, "Are you worried? Should you have done it? Is it right to do Free As A Bird?" I would say to them, listen, once The Beatles and George Martin have signed off on it, I always get a great feeling that it doesn't really matter what anyone thinks, we're a sufficiently cool enough gang of dudes, it's a question of sod the rest of them. I always used to get that feeling on Beatles albums; hey, it's The Beatles, we all like it, that's a pretty strong opinion.

It's not as easy to get that on my solo records because it's mainly me. I don't have the strength of the Woolwich around me. But on this one, there wasn't much pressure because the record people said, "We don't actually need a record from you for a while, so l started making music just for my own fun.

I think I've given the Anthology a decent interval, my stuff is suddenly ready, asked Linda if she had any photos, she had a great little selection, banged it together and it all suddenly seemed to work and it was, "Oh, there you go.

And I've told the marketing guys, "I don't want any sweat on this record, I don't care if you don't come up with a good idea, we're just gonna have a laugh." It's funny, they don't know where you're coming from, they re so used to that 'gotta get it right, get the right image desperation. Whereas I'm saying it'd be nice, but it's only a record. It really does cool things down.

One big thing with The Beatles, once in the early days we broke down on the motorway going back up to Liverpool in the severe winter, somewhere. One of us said, "Oh, what are we going to do now?" and another said, "Well, something'll happen." And it sounded so naive, we all laughed, "Yeah, something'll happen." Immediately a lorry came up and said, "Wanna lift, lads?" We all piled in. I'm a great believer in that "something'll happen" syndrome. It's like if you allow that space, that bit of peace in your mind, something sort of comes in to fill it. It's all very metaphysical.

You've said, "Songwriting's like the thumb in the mouth." It's interesting that through a worrying time with Linda being ill, you've made an upbeat kind of record. Is there a connection?

Yes, I think there is. When you have a major problem like that, it focuses what's important. I know everyone says that but it really does. For me, my family comes first, and a close second is music and working. I think it stopped me pissing around. I might have made a record and thought, Oh that's OK. But with that and having just done Anthology I thought, No I'm gonna make sure I'm happy with every song on this album. I don't want to waste time. I think that's the main force. If you're just breezing along you can think, Aah I've got forever, it's all great - you can find yourself wasting time. And also having looked at The Beatles albums and running your finger down the tracklist and it's Nowhere Man, Here There And Everywhere, Taxman, bang, bang, bang, every single one is a song you remember. I thought, I'm gonna make an album like that. I sorted a lot of songs and didn't bother with things I was in doubt about. So the whole episode focused me up quite a bit.

You've admitted in the past to feeling daunted by the Beatles' achievements, yet all this full-on Beatlosity of the past 18 months or so seems to have spurred you on.

Yeah well, the sort of plan was to take a holiday. But I'd just be sitting around with my acoustic, writing a song in a power cut in America, played it to a few people and it's "Ooh yeah, that's a good 'un." So I started stockpiling a few with nothing in mind, stuck 'em on a cassette and called them New Songs. Suddenly I had a lot of them. Called Steve Miller, who I'd known and played with once in the '60s after a Beatle session which was aborted because of, ahem, business differences. God, I've just come across a big field full of sheep here. Amazing. But I digress... I'd say to Steve, "look we don't need to get into heavy breathing, let's just knock it off", the way we did that track of his, My Dark Hour. He'd invited me up to his studio in Sun Valley, Idaho, did a track. Returned the hospitality, knocked off a couple more.

You're working with Jeff Lynne again. He'd passed the Free As A Bird test then?

Yeah, that was the audition (laughs). He was sort of George's boyfriend, if you know what I mean, and, you know, you don't want to tread on people's toes. But I'd enjoyed working with him and found him really easy to get on with, we always had a laugh. And I said, "Do you want to come over for a couple of weeks?" He said, "Well, you can't do much in a couple of weeks." I said, "Well, we can do a couple of tracks and mix 'em.."

What was the dynamic between you and Jeff?

I'd show him the song. And then first of all we'd bang it down with a couple of acoustics so we'd have a wash to go against, instead of a click track. It's an old Beatle trick, really. Everything used to have two acoustics, at least. It was mainly me and John showing the guys the song. That's one of Jeff's production tricks, too. I can't think where he got it. A lot of people when I mentioned working with Jeff their eyebrows raised, and I picked up what they meant was he's going to make an ELO of you. I actually had that worry with Free As A Bird. But then I thought, No, we'd worked around it, and even though it was a Jeff Lynne-type production I still thought it sounded very like The Beatles. So I had a chat with him and I said, "I don't want to get into your recognisable sound." He was actually a little bit surprised, I don't think he thinks he has a sound (in surprised Brummie voice), "What do you mean?" He's a very innocent kind of bloke. I said, "If I feel we re getting into a bit of a Jeff Lynne formula, let's find a trick to get round it, subvert it." He was quite into it, actually.

John Lennon said in the late '70s that if The Beatles were still making records, they'd sound like ELO.

Yeah, it was important to Jeff to meet John and have him say, "Oh I love some of those ELO tracks." I liked them, too. It's a bit like Oasis. Anyone who gives such an obvious tribute to you, you either hate it or you love it, and I love it. They're taking our style and proliferating it, if that's the word. ELO were good, you know, pity about the haircut. (Pause) I'm only kidding about the haircut, you'd better put in brackets - he'd kill me. He's still got it.

Given Ringo's and George Martin's cameos, George Harrison remains conspicuous by his continued absence. Is it difficult, given your history and the reported 'artistic tension' on the Free As A Bird/Real Love sessions, to contemplate a Harrison/McCartney collaboration?

I don't know really. To tell you the truth, when I was working with John, it was so, I don't know, so full, you never had a minute, so if working with George never really came up, I got in the habit of not working with him, I never really learned how to do it. When we did Free As A Bird there were one or two little bits of tension, but it was actually cool for the record. For instance, I had a couple of ideas that he didn't like, and he was right. I'm the first one to accept that. So that was OK. We did then say that we might work together but the truth is, after Real Love I think George had some business problems. Er, it didn't do a lot for his moods over the last couple of years. He's been having a bit of a hard time, actually, he's not been that easy to get on with. I've rung him and maybe he hasn't rung back. No big deal. But when I ring Ringo, he rings back immediately, we're quite close that way. You know, I'll write George a letter and he might not reply to it. I don't think he means not to reply to it but it makes me wonder whether he actually wants to do it or not. And if you're not sure, you back off a little. But I love him, he's a lovely guy and I would love to do it. It'd be fun, he's good.

[izzyspussy]

headcanon that stede loses himself in stories in the purest and fullest escapism possible. he has an extraordinary imagination, extraordinary avoidance mechanism, and extraordinary lack of self(-perception). as such, it's easy and automatic for him to insert an imaginary, idealized version of himself onto any character in any story that he likes, without it ever occurring to him to identify with or even really catch on to any real similarities to himself and his life that might be paralleled in fiction.

even if he happens to read or be told a tale that has such reflections in it, they will pass him right on by completely unobserved, and he will either find the story unbearably dull or he will warp it into something idealized and project onto it as if it's totally fantastical and foreign to him like any other. he simply never sees himself in a story, because he doesn't see himself in real life either and has absolutely no interest in doing so (at least up until his final scene of season one, and these things don't change overnight so still past that but to a gradually lesser degree as he develops. um. for as long as he... continued to develop. lol).

like obviously stede does make everything all about him (tho we did see - for like a second. lol. - that he's trying to get better about that), but ignoring all the themes in a narrative work and any remotely undesirable trait in a character in order to make it the perfect escapist projection fantasy is functionally still making everything, or rather in this specific case, every story all about you, it just happens to be your personal ideal of perfection rather than your experiences. haha actually sort of like- *the audience relation director hurriedly turns off my mic*

cough. anyway. ed also makes everything about himself, but the other way around. he actively looks for himself in stories and in other people's experiences, and inserts himself if he can't find it.

at the same time, he also doesn't particularly want to see himself - not the parts of himself that he takes conscious note of anyway - so he generally just avoids getting close enough to anyone to relate to them. if he absolutely needs to know something about somebody else he'll guess(timate) or flat out make something up. he does that with people's preferences/tastes, feelings, backstories, even sometimes their names (except when unavoidable, or when he slips up and accidentally lets himself form a genuine human connection lmao). i mean, this is in part because most people ed's involved with are almost certainly going to die pretty grisly deaths, most likely during their acquaintance with him, and when he's captain it's kinda his responsibility, and he doesn't want to grieve or feel guilty for anything ever. but also the first stuff i said.

and then re: stories, if he's going to engage with one he needs it to be as exaggerated and/or abstract as possible and also preferably vague as well. that way it's distant and he can tell himself he wasn't really in it, it could have been about anything, actually it was really just about the nonexistent thing that was in it - like the story he told about the kraken killing his dad. like there's plenty of room to interpret that while we were seeing the flashback, ed had more lines describing the scene to his in-universe audience off our screens. but! i think it's more in character if he left it to just the few flippant lines we actually heard. he loves the drama and the attention, of course, but not as much as he (thinks he) wants to not be truly seen.

he tries stede's method via the jeff act, but we see that fail immediately and spectacularly at any hint of doubt twice (at the fancy party when they laughed at him and in the gravy basket when hermit hornigold didn't indulge the roleplay scenario). and to be honest i'm personally counting three more: when izzy pushed back against the ep10... Situation, when ed threw blackbeard overboard and became breakfast in bed bf instead but stede was still into piracy, and when he was forced by confrontation to admit his fanciful ideal of being a fisherman didn't match up with reality. plus i think if read hadn't interrupted, his little therapy speak word salad "i'm doing better than i ever was" guy with the rabbit would have gone the same way. (and obviously the inn idea would go this way too. so it's a good thing that never happened! lmao can you imagine...)

(vs stede who tries to play the idealized character, fails, pretends he didn't after a period of depression, but then adjusts the role to better fit his true self and is successful; they did write the arcs of stede becoming himself + ed accepting himself that they meant to, they just broke both their legs and their fucking neck on the dismount.)

ANYWAY. catch me writing a whole fucking meta post just to say stede would think nothing of telling the story of fenrir and tyr at storytime post-the parts of canon that aren't drivel.

you know, the story about the monster of mixed race parentage who is destined for violence due to said parentage even though all he really wants is fame, and the one man brave enough to get close to him? and the man helps the monster grow, until he gets too frightening and everyone decides he can't be tamed? so the man offers a limb in exchange for the monster's restraint, perhaps trusting that he wouldn't hurt his only friend? but the monster bites that limb clean off and eats it?* yeah, that one.

stede would be jazzed to tell a story about/by legendary sea-faring idols of conquest and (homoerotic) masculinity with norms that run counter to the social environment he loathes that ed (and izzy) wouldn't already know (and probably pop his rose-colored bubble about). he would not think hm maybe not This one though. all he sees is the excitement! *stefan voice* this myth has everything: prophecies, friendship, betrayal, blood and gore, finely crafted textiles...

meanwhile, ed is trying to beat himself to death since SOMEBODY managed to fuck that up, and izzy is shaking, crying, throwing up,,

*editorialized to make tyr seem better and fenrir seem worse, to align with how ed would interpret it in reflection of his self-perception, though i'll also say the very same ed hearing the very same story in a different mood would interpret a worse tyr and a better fenrir than textually depicted just as well

[drakewyne]

a supercut:

"in june of this year, patient made a self endangering attempt while under the influence of several prescription drugs. patient is emotionally alienated almost entirely from a world of other human beings, and exhibits a psychotic dissonance from reality. subject to delusions and obsessive compulsivity, patient's fantasy life is preempted by primitive, regressive libidinal preoccupations many of which are distorted and bizarre. somatization has developed a false reality of incomprehensible intent for all others. fundamentally doomist, catastrophist, and pessimistic, patient is categorized by a high intellect but an intense compulsivity and behavior coupled with delusions of aggrandizement that tend to revolve around highly sexual or anatomical themes . . . "

tests were administered privately in an inpatient clinic with a fountain in delaware in the summer of 2023. by the way, these notes did not appear to nancy as an inappropriate response to the summer of 2023 at all.

.・゜゜・

before that, nancy was living in a large and very generational estate in crest hill. it was a lovely white proto - gothic with wide lush lawns. it once had children. now she describes it as a "mostly deco, senseless killing neighborhood."

she remembers ' visions of johanna ' on a record player, and a new housekeeper telling her that she saw death in her aura. nancy remembers chatting with her about why this might be so, paying her, opening every french window, unlocking every door and sleeping in the living room.

.・゜゜・

it was hard to surprise her then.

it was hard to even get her attention.

she was absorbed in her intellectualism, her bleak metal heart, her obsessive devices, her somatization, her shitty coffees and bad cigarettes, and the scientologist who routinely called her to tell her of e - meters and how she could become a clear because she continuously indulged the conversation.

she recalled to him a blue light that filled her room when she was young.

"huh?"

"so i was almost abducted."

"oh . . . uh, well—"

"what's clearer than that?"

he didn't call back. she walked around barefoot, considered getting abducted by aliens on the new tennis court near her house — another senseless killing.

.・゜゜・

nancy van der huis felt herself a missionary of apocalyptic sex. and a martyr for the adhd.

.・゜゜・

TO PACK:

- skirts

- shirts

- extra pair of shoes

- socks

- cigarettes

- bag with: hair care, toothbrush and paste, deodorant, prescriptions, tampons, skin care

TO CARRY:

- mohair jacket

- tablet

- keys

- glasses

- gum

this is a list printed loopy and drunk on a sticky note and slammed to her closet door. the list enables her to keep a keen focus — notice the cigarettes, for the thumbnails, and the gum, for the thumbnails and the cigarettes.

as clear as her starry eyes were beckoned to be, this is a list of someone who prizes self control, yearns for momentum, is determined to play vaguely and spectacularly on script. it is versatile and ambiguous. her performance shifts like water current.

there is one significant omission, an article she needs and rarely has: a timepiece. she typically didn't need one in the day, but alone, she often lost track of time and made it all up in her head. she slowly grew dissonant with the potential difference on her phone, and finally, would call tim and ask him what time it was.

she had an ambiguous and fluid identity, nearly missing if not for a tendency toward catastrophe and coronaries in a super snatched sick pleasure — going big, so to say, touching like an angel — but she didn't really know what time it was.

[acefaun]

Kaeya~ The Curse

Synopsis: God!MC brings back a container of cleansing water from the pool they came across on their adventure with Dainsleif in the Chasm. They hoped to give it to Kaeya… But it seems as though they were a little too late to help. Hopefully they can make up for lost time.

⚔️Masterlist⚔️ Gender-neutral, God MC! ~Spoilers for Chasm Interlude Archon Quest after Liyue A/n: Popping into the Genshin fandom with a self-indulgent serving of my favorite Ragbros! 💕 I read a few fanfics about how Kaeya might have had a similar reaction to Dainsleif during the Archon Quest, so I decided to add my own bit to it with a little bit of the SAGAU aspect of MC being their ‘god’.

–Word Count: 2,800���

I had been gone from Mondstadt for too long, I mused as I took in the fresh air around me. Being in the Chasm for weeks on end made me cherish the feeling of the open air in Mondstadt. The free wind was so much less stifling than suppressive rocks.

Still, however grateful I was, one person remained on my mind on my trip home. The cool container that rested within a pouch against my leg reminded me that my mission wasn't over. On my recent adventure into the Chasm with Dainsleif, we found the ruins of an ancient civilization that the Abyss was using for another of their schemes. Their goal was to bring Khaenri’ah back, but we put a stop to their nefarious plot. 

While it would have been nice to see the ancient citizens of Khaenri’ah freed from their curse, it would have caused much more suffering and loss than done any actual good. There wasn't a chance that their plans would meet with surefire success, after all. In fact, I—along with Dainsleif—was certain their plan would fail spectacularly. I had Khaenrian friends to protect, and I would never take a chance playing with their lives. 

My fingers brushed against the cork of the bottle I carried. I wasn't that powerful, but even I could feel something comforting from the bottle. I couldn't imagine the discomfort and suffering that those cursed had to go through without a hint of relief. By having this water nearby, I hoped that Kaeya might feel some reprieve. 

Kaeya never divulged anything about himself to me, out of fear that I was the god from Celestia that sent his nation to ruin. So, I wasn’t entirely sure how Kaeya’s lineage really affected him, but it was better to be safe rather than sorry. Fortunately, each adventure I went on seemed to lead me to more answers that he probably didn't even know himself.

Still, I might have been overthinking things… After all, Kaeya was only a descendant of Khaenri’ah, he wasn’t there when it was destroyed. But that Abyssal scheme was terribly effective—even Dainsleif had to rely on me to resolve the situation. I had to prepare for the worst and hope for the best with Kaeya’s unknown situation.

It was early in the night when I walked through the gates of Mondstadt. Luckily, if all was as well as I hoped, I knew exactly where my friends would be gathered. 

I was grateful that, as soon as Dainsleif and I finished our quest, he understood the urgency with which I had to return home and check on my found family.

Opening the door to the Angel’s Share, it was unusually quiet, and my apprehension only grew. My eyebrows furrowed as I noted a few regulars, but there was no bard. There was no exasperated Diluc or rambunctious Kaeya. “Charles,” I asked, walking up to the bar. “What's the lull? Isn't it usually more lively here at night?”

“Your Excellency,” he addressed me formally. “Sorry. You must be looking for Master Diluc. He's visiting Master Jean tonight. You might be able to find him in her office.”

My eyebrows furrowed further. Something was wrong for the alcoholics to be missing and Diluc to be in the Knight's headquarters. I prayed I was jumping to the wrong conclusions… I couldn’t wait for an explanation. “Tell me what happened.”

He let out a brief sigh, his empathetic eyes landing on me. “I heard that Captain Kaeya fell ill. I wish I had more to tell you, but the Knights have been keeping things quiet since. No one really knows what happened yesterday-”

“Yesterday?” Then my suspicions were unfortunately correct. Kaeya was affected by the Abyss’s device, and no one was there with Kaeya to help or understand why he was suffering. Before Charles could give another word, I was flying out of the door. I was thankful the foot traffic was light as I raced up the stairs to get to HQ. 

The knights were quick to fling the doors open for me as soon as they recognized my intended path. Nearly crashing into Jean's office door, I flung it open, startling those inside. Jean immediately stood from her chair. “Your Excellency, you're here. There's been a problem-”

“With Kaeya,” I finished for her, my eyes flickering across the faces in the room. There was Jean, Diluc, Barbara, and Amber. They were no doubt all gathered there for the same reasons. But I needed them to cut to the chase. “I heard. Tell me everything.”

Jean gestured for Amber to tell the story from the beginning. Taking her cue without hesitation, Amber walked me through her version of what happened, “I was just returning from my patrol yesterday afternoon when I ran into Captain Kaeya. He looked… bothered; but I didn’t think he was feeling unwell or anything. I was about to ask him about it when he just… Well, I don’t know what really happened. He just looked like he was in so much pain; it was so bad, he looked like he couldn’t breathe and then couldn’t even stand on his feet.”

“We were thrown completely off guard,” Jean commented. Apparently it wasn't the most subtle thing. Many citizens panicked at the sight of the Captain in such agony and went straight to the Knights of Favonius to report the emergency. 

Barbara then added anxiously, “We tried our best to help and make it bearable, but nothing we did worked. We spent all night trying everything, well into the morning. Even with my hydro vision, I couldn’t seem to ease his symptoms. Eventually, we had to send for Master Diluc… We thought they might be at odds, but we were sure he might know something to help. I mean, something like that wouldn't just randomly happen, right?” 

Of course, she assumed it was some natural affliction. It wasn't poison, and it wasn't something they could heal with their church medicines. They had Kaeya’s situation all wrong, and Diluc didn't seem like he told them a word. 

Guilt weighed heavily on my shoulders. I tried to stop the Abyss Order as quickly as I could, but there were too many abyss mages for me to work swiftly and efficiently. Not to mention, Dainsleif was in agony and his friend was dying in front of him. Stopping the Abyss took far too long and drew too much attention to Kaeya. I could only imagine how long of a night it must have been for Kaeya to endure.

But what could Diluc have possibly done to help, anyway? This situation never happened before—and I would be sure it never happened again. None of what happened was precedented. With my gaze flickering to the apparently frustrated red-head, I paused, taking in his appearance. I knew he didn't enjoy working with the Knights of Favonius, but this particular agitation was new. It was time I got his side of the story. “Diluc… What did you-”

“I came to see him as soon as I was informed, and when I got here, they refused to let me in his room,” Diluc hissed, withholding so much wrath that it left me surprised.

Jean sighed, all of them looking awkwardly away from the angered man. She supplied me with an explanation, “At first we thought getting Diluc would be the best response. But… As soon as we had Kaeya inside of headquarters, he started shouting that he was burning. It wasn’t a fever, and he seemed like he wasn’t in his right mind. Knowing vaguely what happened between them, I made the last minute call to keep Diluc out. Your excellency, you have to understand… I did what I thought was best for Kaeya given the circumstances.”

“He could have been dying, and it was ‘for the best’ that I couldn't see him,” Diluc retorted. He didn't need the weak excuses of the Knights of Favonius, he wanted to make sure his brother was okay. He couldn't do that if they restricted him from going as far as the first floor.

“I disapprove of how you made the decision to keep Diluc out after so quickly inviting him to this mess.” I snapped at the group of knights in defense of Diluc. “What happened between them is in the past and had nothing to do with what happened to Kaeya. Diluc,” my steely gaze softened as I met Diluc’s eyes of adoration. Of course, he knew I would understand everything. I would take his side. I offered to him, “Come with me. We're going to go check on Kaeya. I came to help.”

“Thank you.” He didn’t hesitate to follow me out of the quiet room. Everyone else meekly remained where they were for just getting scolded by me. Still, I had trouble waiting for Diluc as I practically rushed to leave Jean’s office. 

“Captain! Captain Kaeya, please go back to your room! You're not-” The knight that was chasing Kaeya down the stairs, faltered at seeing me. “You're Excellency! I'm sorry! Captain Kaeya shouldn't have slipped past us! Ah!” The Knight panicked as Kaeya immediately flung his arms around me, his larger frame almost overtaking me. “C- Captain, please, that's their Excellency you just-”

“(Name)!” My eyes widened at hearing Kaeya call my name. Hardly anyone ever used my name. Everyone respected me, feared me, cherished me, adored me. Using my name was disrespectful, something frowned upon. But I loved hearing it from them. I loved when they used my name and not some impersonal title.

“Kaeya,” I replied with his name, in turn, my hands resting on his back.

“It feels nice…” Kaeya muttered, his arms tightened around me, holding me closer. “I felt when you got to Mondstadt. You felt different from usual, but I needed to find you. Please, let me hold you. It doesn't hurt anymore.”

“We're going home, Kaeya,” I hushed, trying to soothe him as best I could. I knew the water I had with me was really what was drawing him to me like this. But for now, I wanted to make up for not being faster. Just like Dainsleif, even Kaeya would need time to recover from the strain his body was put through. “Diluc’s going to take us back to the manor, and we'll take care of you.” Similarly to how his grip tightened around me, I pulled him closer, my fingers sinking into his unkempt hair. “I'm sorry… I'm so sorry.” 

He hummed, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything more as he basked in the presence of the cleansing water. Though the effects of what happened lingered in his system, he was feeling better just by being with me. He knew I was his god.

Diluc hesitantly pressed closer, despite the eyes of onlookers that were judging us. “If the manor is where you want to go, I suggest we depart. Kaeya, can you walk?” 

Kaeya could—he just bounded down the stairs for me—but he'd never make it as far as Dawn Winery. Awkwardly, I mentioned, “I'm agile, but I'm a bit of a limp noodle when it comes to weights. I'm afraid you'll have to carry him, Diluc. He’s been through a lot.” Reaching for the pouch at my side, I untied the strings and held the bag out to Diluc. “You can hold on to this for now. I have one for you when we get home. It'll help him feel better.” 

I didn't explain much just yet as Kaeya was carefully lifted, and he relaxed into Diluc’s arms. No one dared to question or stop me as I left with the two brothers accompanying me. I wasn't necessarily leaving because of the way Diluc had been treated. I was leaving purely because of the confidential matter that only involved the three of us.

Taking us to the teleport point, the journey home was short, and we took our time to get relaxed in Kaeya’s room, where he passed out almost immediately. It was the first time he was almost entirely free of pain since the incident. 

“If I may ask,” Diluc started slowly, his hands grazing over the pouch you gave him with the concealed bottle inside. “What exactly is this?”

Diluc knew mostly everything about Kaeya—who he was, where he was from, why he was in Mondstadt. He also knew Kaeya as a brother, which was where we were now. He wanted his brother to be okay and as annoying as usual, not bedridden.

As promised, they deserved answers. So, I began my summarized explanation of events, “I went on a mission recently against the Abyss Order. They… tried to revive Khaenri'ah against my warnings of what would happen. They were determined to cleanse the Khaenrians of their curse. However, all that resulted was suffering. Every living soul with that curse was in unbearable agony. It could have been devastating if I hadn’t gotten there in time.” My downcast eyes landed on the gentle rise and fall of Kaeya’s chest. “Even a nation away, he probably thought he was dying. I could only do my best to fix it as quickly as possible—but I wasn't strong enough to take care of them as fast as I wanted to. Who knows how long Kaeya was suffering because of me…”

“But you took care of them,” Diluc reminded me, knowing I would no sooner fall into self-loathing. “You did good against a powerful enemy. You should be proud. Whatever this water is… you managed to bring it here to help him. Don't think what you did wasn't adequate.”

Pursing my lips together, I knew better than to argue. He would only try to make me take it back. Diluc cared much more than he let on. He wouldn't let me shoulder the guilt. So, rather than dwelling on that, I changed the subject back to the pouch. “I forgot, I brought a bottle for you as well. However, I mean to go back and collect more for you to store in the Winery in case of emergencies like that one.” Taking the pouch back, I opened it, pulling out the glass bottle of cleansing water. “This was in an ancient city. Apparently, it acts as a cleansing water, soothing the effects of the curse. It won't cure him, so it does no good to drink it. But having it near will help.” 

“Cleansing water,” Diluc repeated, observing the seemingly normal water that I held. It was strange that Kaeya couldn't even tell what he was attracted to when he found me in HQ. From what Diluc could tell, Kaeya could simply sense the water from that far away. “It's fascinating. I'm sure we'll have to keep a greater supply. I… feel like I should ask how you came to know that this water would help him when it looks and feels like normal water to those without the curse.”

“Because that fountain was where the cursed went to meet a peaceful end,” I replied quietly, avoiding mentioning my travel partner. In truth, I probably wouldn’t have suspected what the effects of this water truly were if not for Dainsleif’s explanation. “It seems sad, but this water is truly the only thing that seems to be able to give some respite.”

Diluc hummed, his eyes now searching Kaeya and wondering when his sad end would come. Luckily, he wouldn't have to suffer so much anymore thanks to my efforts. Diluc watched how I delicately traced Kaeya’s still hands, my eyes overflowing with guilt. “You did your best. I wish you'd be kinder to yourself.”

I hummed, but I didn't agree or disagree with him. “I'm not finished with my mission against the Abyss… but… I'm not leaving Kaeya right now. You can stay too. Mondstadt can do without their Darknight Hero for a while. Kaeya needs us more than they do.” Kaeya deserved to be coddled after his horrible experience. I'd do my damned best to ensure it never happened again.

[everythingwasalreadypicked]

Re-listening a certain Black Friday song is making me think of an au where Ethabaster ditches Kronos together. Would canon Ethan ever do that? Heavy maybe, depends on his mom. Would canon Al do that? Absolutely not. Is it super self indulgent? Yes and I don't care.

Maybe it's when they got the news of Princess Andromeda attack from Silena, maybe it's after the ship blows or maybe it's after Ethan fails spectacularly at getting Hades's sword. Doesn't matter, point is Kronos is breathing down both of their necks.

I'll go with before the ship explosion though. General Torrington asks the demigods to be evacuated, Kronos refuses to do that completely. A skeletal crew that solely consists of monsters would be better to keep on-board, they can come back but the demigods can't, right? Of course, what Al doesn't realise is that Kronos couldn't care less about them.

But what he is, is an impulsive 16 year old, who has boyfriend that is so done with Kronos and the ability to fuck with magic however he wants. By the time Kronos notices one of the Triumvirate supplied cars are gone a long with his general and lieutenant, they're already on the opposite side of California.

Give me Ethan grappling with how he'll be of use to his mom now, give me Al deconstructing his blind loyalty to Kronos bit by bit, give me them realising what they have done and dreading the reaction of their mothers. Give me the rest of the Hecate siblings sneaking off to follow after Al because you were the one to recruit them, you can't just ditch them that easily mister. Give me the other kids doing the same because with Luke currently out of commission, Ethan and Al are who they look up to. Give me ethabaster struggling with the stress of it all, waiting for the other to run back to Kronos, the love may be there, the trust isn't.

Just Ethan and Al searching for another way to bring the minor gods respect, still not loyal to Olympus, but not working for Kronos either.

The song in question btw

[jojikawa]

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘽𝙧𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝘿𝙞𝙤: 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙍𝙚𝙙 𝙒𝙚𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 | 𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙁𝙤𝙪𝙧

WICKED HEARTS

MASTER LIST

Author’s note: This is a POC FRIENDLY blog. I am a black girl and I want to write more fics that don’t leave the reader racially ambiguous. This is self-indulgent and I’m just sharing it with you. Jojo is far from realistic. So, I don’t need to be either. Please don’t leave hate! Thanks!

This is a DARK romance so there will be toxic relationship themes, NSFW themes, descriptions of violence, and gore. There will also be unintentional sexism and racism from the characters toward the reader. The reader is canonically black in this AU but it is written for people from all walks of life to enjoy.

dividers by delishlydelightfuldividers

WORD COUNT: 4.7k

An awkward silence filled the room. You were sitting at the vanity dresser from before, as still as a statue. You were unable to bring yourself to move. You pondered on your situation. Out of everyone in this world, why did you have to be the one in the eyes of Dio? Not in a million years you would have predicted such an outcome. Without even realizing it, you acknowledged your appearance in the mirror. Dio’s rose was still in your hair, which you removed. You lifted your upper lip, inspecting your new fangs. The fangs you penetrated Dio with. 

“What is your name?” You let go of your lip and spoke to the terrified girl in the corner of the room. She was supposed to be helping you into a wedding dress Dio had come across but she was too scared. You didn’t make her help you. Not that you needed any at all.

“A-Aya.” The little girl answered nervously. Her voice was still firm as she tried to hide how scared she was and failed spectacularly. “How did Dio get to you, Aya? Why were you not inside? Did he take you from your home?” You tried to manage your hair, moving as slowly as a snail. This situation was hitting you so hard. What was the future supposed to look like for you? You’re getting married to Dio and there was nothing you could do about it. A part of you felt like he would only be more destructive if you refused. He’s never raised a hand to you but he had no remorse for taking his frustrations out on innocents as a means to an end. 

“I-I was looking for my little brother, P-Poco. He’s always missing curfew and my father asked me to go find him.” She choked out, another cry was coming on. 

You sighed. “Well, Aya, it’s safe to assume that Poco is probably dead.” You bluntly stated, not thinking at all about what you were saying. It was harsh and inconsiderate. This only pushed her to cry. Once you realized what you had done, you stopped trying to fix your hair. You sighed again, getting up out of your chair.

Aya noted that your aura and demeanor didn’t feel as threatening as Dio’s. You looked beautiful in your dress. The fabric was a deep red that made your skin look amazing. The color was as if Dio harvested it from the blood of his enemies. Your hair wasn’t perfect but its messiness almost looked to be intentional. Your soft nature clashed with the razor-sharp teeth that only showed themselves when you talked. “I’m sorry.” You looked at her with half-lidded eyes. “Poco could’ve gotten away or hid. I’m just…bitter.” You informed her. “Now, can you help me get this corset on, please?” You asked politely, voice still laced in sorrow. Aya didn’t need to be a body language expert to see that you weren’t happy at all with your situation. She instantly knew this marriage was forced. 

The girl sheepishly nodded, gaining the courage to finally stand and help you. She assisted with your corsets and layers of fabric. You always imagined yourself being married—just…happier. After spending a long time with Dio when you were young, the only man you could imagine yourself marrying was him. You also imagined yourself wearing something purer like a bright white. Aya helped bring your hair up into a neat updo style, you tucked the clip of the red veil into your hair.

During this whole process, you didn’t speak. Not much or even loudly for that matter. Your replies and directions to the girl were always hushed and hurried. Your body was adjusting to your vampire transformation. Some lights were too bright. Even the light of the moon. Your ears were noticeably more sensitive and you found your eyebrows always being subtly knitted together as your mood became permanently annoyed. The same way one would get when they feel a headache coming on. 

Aya had only just finished helping you before the silence broke. Dio entered the room, his outfit not at all different from before. Perhaps, he felt as if he didn’t need to dress for such an occasion. 

“My goodness. You look so much more beautiful than I could have ever imagined.” Dio made his way towards you, pushing Aya to the side as if she were a peasant getting to close to his trophy. You stayed silent, not at all greeting your soon-to-be husband. He grabbed your face, tilting your head upward so that his lips were only inches away from yours. You held onto his arms as he held you like glass. The man wanted nothing more than to kiss you right here. Oh yes, the idea of kissing the woman he’s been deeply in love with since he were a boy. He knew that women would claw each other’s eyes out to be with someone like him but he wanted you. He thought himself an honorable man for being so loyal during a time he didn’t have to be. 

You averted your eyes, too saddened and nervous I receive his “loving” stare. “I-“ You opened your mouth to speak when he quickly presses his lips to yours. Even with your new vampire strength, Dio still proved to be stronger than you, holding you close and not at all allowing you to resist his love. Almost abruptly, he let you go before licking his lips. “Much more savory than I remember.” Is what he would’ve said if he hadn’t seen the sullen look on your face. It gave him flashbacks to the day the two of you “broke up.” 

Why did you look happy? You’re getting married to him—you should be happy. Overjoyed even. 

“What is wrong with you?” He narrowed his eyes at you. “Don’t you love me?!” He blurted out, startling Aya who was already making herself small in the corner. 

“I do love you do. Or, at least I did.” You whispered sadly. “I barely even know what’s happened to me but I already know it’s permanent.” You removed your hands from his arms, having them retreat back into your body as you hug yourself. “You betray your own father and turned yourself into a monster. You stole my future away from me by turning me into a monster too. Now I’m stuck with you.” Your face began to burn with distress. The air you exhaled was hot like fire as you fought back tears. 

Dio took offense to your words, seeing it more as a plain insult rather than an expression of what he was doing to your psyche.

“Stuck with me!?” He repeated, putting so much emphasis on “stuck” like he was disgusted with your choice of words. “I’ll have you know that any girl born to slave parents would be honored to-“ 

slap!

Dio held his cheek in awe. If one didn’t know any better, they would’ve thought Dio had been stabbed in the heart just now. Never in a million years would he have thought you’d raise a hand to him. You were always so kind, so gentle and so, so very patient with all the vile things he would conjure up in his mind. 

“Don’t talk about my parents.” Your voice cut him like swords and your eyes burned holes into his body, stronger than any amount of Hamon ever could. All Dio could do was stare at you, his eyes were now doe-like, reminiscing at how you used to be and what you could’ve been if it weren’t for him. “If it weren’t for my father, you wouldn’t even know me.”

Dio only knew a little bit about your father. You rarely spoke of him, but he remembered the story you told him all that time ago. Your parents were slaves. Your father wanted a better life for his pregnant wife and worked himself to death, buying her freedom. Even then, it still wasn’t enough. The Pendletons took you off the streets.

“You will NOT do that again.” Dio declared. It was hard for him to be angry because he was beginning to realize that he liked it when you would raise your voice at him. “You are lucky that I am above hitting women.” He hissed before turning on his heel and leaving the room. When his presence was gone, you sighed. It felt like you had been holding your breath forever. You didn’t know what came over you. You didn’t want to be like him and react with violence. You also forgot that Aya was still in the room. “Aya, after the wedding, I will get you out of here.” You suddenly said. “Now, come.” You directed her to take the long end of your dress and hold it as you walk. The girl obeyed. 

As you exited the room, waiting for you was a disfigured creature. It meekly held a bouquet of flowers. You took it from…it before continuing on your way to find Dio. He disappeared rather quickly. “Wh-Where is your master?” You questioned it, trying not to show the fear you harbored for its appearance. 

“Lord Dio waits for you.”

Its voice made you sick to your stomach, reminding you that you were speaking to something that was no longer human and craved flesh specifically. “Take me to him.” You replied lowly, trying to match Dio’s energy and commanding them the way he would. You turned to Aya before saying “Stay in the room. I will come and get you as soon as I can.” You promised her with pleading eyes. The girl shuddered and grimaced at your request. The girl reluctantly nodded. She didn’t like the idea but she had to trust you. 

The creature did as you asked. As you followed, you thought of all the possible ways you could get Aya away. You didn’t want a child slave. No child should be a slave at all, let alone a slave for you. You knew what it was like. Going along with Dio’s marriage was your only hope of bringing some clarity to this situation. Perhaps, as his wife, you could talk some sense into him? Let the girl go, you’d tell him. Get rid of these monsters, you would say. 

But it was all just your way of coping. There was no way to get ahold of Dio. 

As you entered the room, your heart felt like it was frozen as you held your breath. Your mind was still back in that dark room, combing your pretty hair with your pretty white dress. 

Or was it red?

“I always knew red would make a better color on you.” 

His sly voice reached your ears, pulling you back to reality. Within a second, Dio was only inches away from you. His hands inspected your curves. The tips of his claws brushed the thin thread that held your corset together. They traced up to your bust where, again, your chest was practically bursting in the small corset that you were given. “This looks tight.” Dio growled at you with a grin. “I must loosen it for you.” His claw tugged at the ribbon that held your top together with your bottom. You narrowed your eyes. “Dio.” You placed a hand on your chest, preventing him from going any further. “Let’s just have the wedding.” You said quickly.

The room wasn’t elegant enough for a wedding and nor was the castle. The fire burned bright in the corners of the room but it was nothing compared to the moonlight that illuminated your features in the night.

“Eager to be my bride? You never cease to amaze me.” Dio took your hand in his. He imagined himself as the ultimate prince—no, God, finally claiming what would be his forever. “I’ve given you a gift no man ever could. Your beauty will forever be eternalized. What we had as children can transcend the bonds of time…”

You listened to Dio ramble about his “love” for you. It was hard to believe this was even real. You kept hoping that you’d wake up and then scold yourself for sleeping for so long. Then you would ponder on why you’d have such a vivid dream. 

“But I have one more question. You must answer honestly if you intend on being my wife and carrying my seed.” Dio brought his index finger and thumb to your chin. He made you look up at him, baring his fangs at you. “What is it, Dio?” Your eyes began half-lidded. Your mind almost left the conversation again before he spoke.

“Were you in love with Jonathan at all?” 

Your eyes narrowed. “Wha-“

Dio’s voice deepened. “Did you ever love him?” You looked into his eyes. He was serious. Was he…jealous?

“No, I was never in love with Jonathan. Nor was he with me.” You answered, honestly. “He was always in love with Erina.” You added. Dio let go of you. He remembered the time Jonathan let it slip that you had taken care of him after his fight with him. He saw you come to his football game, cheering for Jonathan of all people. Hanging off of his arm as if you belonged to someone else. 

“As you say.” Dio took a step away from you. “Bring me our rings,” Dio commanded the fused monsters around him. A disfigured zombie with no jaw and rotting skin brought Dio the two small pieces of jewelry. “Who did you steal these from?” You asked innocently. Your goal wasn’t to offend him but it was Dio. He was always offended. “I didn’t steal them. I had them made. What do you take me for?” Dio slipped the ring onto his finger. You purse your lips, preventing yourself from retaliating any further. Talking to him was…so hard now. It wasn’t the same. It could never be. 

Dio hesitantly reached for your dainty hand. He rehearsed this moment in his head for such a long time, even before the mask. He wanted nothing more than to finally have. Words couldn’t describe the euphoric feeling that ran through him. The anxiety that once would get when first confessing their love. It was something that was so foreign to him, yet so pleasant. His thumb rubbed the back of your hand only for a moment before he gently placed the diamond ring on your finger. It sparked in the moonlight and could even glow in the shade. Though his wedding band was dull, Dio did not care. As long as it was clear you were taken.

Your absentmindedness came to a halt when Dio saw that you were closing the distance between the two of you. You avoided eye content, keeping your gaze downward as you motioned him to bend down. His height on you would always cause an issue for you. When he complied, you meekly pressed your lips against his for a chasté kiss. The thoughtful act only lasted a moment before you pulled away, but Dio wanted more. All he wanted was more of your love. His arms trapped you, bringing you into another kiss. It was like your lips were candy, but these could’ve been his imagination. Your lips were better than any candy he’s ever had. 

Suddenly, the only door in the room was forced open. Dio gasped—jumped at the sound. He let go of you, bringing his full attention to the intruder. It was…

“Jonathan?” You called out softly, utter shock filling your body. Dio blocked your vision with his huge body. “I’m back from my time in hell, Dio.” Jonathan invited himself inside. It wasn’t until then he noticed you. “(y/n)?! You’re alive!” Then the man furrowed his eyebrows. “Damn you, Dio!” He cried. “Let that fair maiden go! I thought she was dead because of you! All of London thinks she’s dead!”

“Still as loud as always, Jonathan.” Dio forced his cool demeanor to now show weakness. “You dare not speak to her, as I am her God now. The world is better off not looking for her.” He grinned at JoJo. “I see that you are also alive now, that’s curious, isn’t it?” Dio stepped towards JoJo. A batch of creatures dropped from the ceiling, surrounding you so that Jonathan has no quick way of getting to you. “But I suppose that indicates that you’ve defeated my two knights.”

“Dio!” Jonathan growled, preparing himself to finally fight this cursed man. “No! Jonathan! Don’t come any closer!” You warned. “These creatures are undead! Dio is a monster!” You tried to push your way past the hellspawn but they seemed to have orders from Dio to keep you from leaving. 

“Don’t worry, (y/n). Jonathan is mine and mine alone. I’ll kill JoJo and you’ll finally see him for how pathetic he really is.” Dio’s smirk faded. “But I will take no pleasure in doing so, as we were raised under the same roof. But before I do, I must ask you one question.”

For a moment, Jonathan looked perplexed. He was not the smartest JoJo, but even with critical thinking, he couldn’t think of any reason why Dio would want to ask him something at a time like this. 

“No, Dio-“

“At any point, did you ever have feelings for someone other than airheaded Erina? (y/n), perhaps?” Dio cupped his hand around his ear, pointing it towards Jonathan as he waited for his answer. This only made JoJo much more angry!

“The only woman I’ve ever loved is Erina!” He shouted, clenching fists as Hamon sparked out. Jonathan wasn’t completely oblivious; he knew Dio was always jealous of his friendship with you. 

“Do you know what I think JoJo? I think you’ve lied for the last time.” Dio crossed his arms. “When I look into the eyes of my beloved, I see the truth. When I look into yours, I see a boy who’s torn…” 

Behind Jonathan emerge more people. People you didn’t recognize. These were the others that JoJo was traveling with. They were a rather strange lot of characters, but anyone other than Dio was a blessing. You just were unable to understand how any human could get out of this situation alive. 

Much to your horror, the humans fought Dio. The first man, Dire, died attempting to deal the first blow to the vampire man. Dio displayed powers you had never seen before. He could freeze his victims with just a touch. Even though his clothes, if he touched you then he could free you. Dire was just a head now. He used the last of his hamon to fill a rose with it before spitting it at Dio. That was when you realized something. Something important. All this time, you’ve been shying away from Dio. As children, he was bigger than you; stronger as well. When the two of you grew up, he got even bigger while you remained small and needed to be protected. Men always preferred women to be this way. They were easier to control. 

But now, things are different. You possessed the strength of a dozen men. All the things Dio could do, you were able to do as well. If your husband couldn’t listen to reason and thought of himself as God, then you needed to be his adversary. It was the only option left for the sake of your loved ones. How could you face your best friend and the family that helped raise you if they knew you didn’t stop Dio from killing her lover? Hell, you wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself. 

Dio was distracted now, going on about how the rose Dire launched injured his eye. In a swift motion, you used all of your strength to strike the monsters holding you back. You cleaved all of their heads off at once and they fell to the ground with an audible thud. You helped the humans as Jonathan fought Dio. 

It was like a blur. Jonathan didn’t allow you to help defeat Dio. He didn’t believe that such a fair maid had to see such a thing, to begin with. The man defeated his vampire adversary. JoJo removed his head with his sword, causing Dio to cry out. 

As Dio fell from the balcony, his body began to crumble from being filled with hamon. You ran over to the edge, not at all believing what you were seeing. Yet, it was true.

Dio even called out to you. The sound of his dying words gave you goosebumps. You couldn’t help but tear up. Why did things have to be this way? Could this have been prevented if you just stayed with Dio? Was this blood now on your hands?

“(y/n)…” Jonathan called breathlessly. He was tired from the battle. He fought someone who was no longer human by the way. “Jonathan!” You ran over to him. He looked like he was about to collapse. The young man examined your face and the pain that washed over him was indescribable. His eyes watered up before tears effortlessly streamed down his face. “(y/n)…” his voice was uneven and he dropped to his knees. “I couldn’t protect you from Dio! I’m sorry!” He cried. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes. “Oh, Jonathan.” You kneeled down to hug him. “There was no way you could’ve known.” 

Behind JoJo, you saw the human men approach the two of you. They seemed to have similar powers that allowed them to take out the zombies easily. Their eyes burned with a fiery passion that was stronger than any hamon. “It’s best that we put an end to all that’s left of the mask.” The young man with long black hair said. JoJo struggled on his own but he gained the strength to shield you from them. “No! You can’t kill! She’s my friend!” He shouted, holding you close to his big chest. “J-Jonathan! It’s okay. You don’t have to protect me.” You squeeze your eyes shut.

A different man stepped forward, this one wearing a funny top hat with a scar on his face. “But it’s just a lady! She can’t be as evil as Dio, can she?” His voice was shaky as he had witnessed Dio’s carnage firsthand. The last thing he wanted to believe was that there would be another version of Dio. The revenge of a widow? No thank you!

“She is Dio’s bride. There’s no use in keeping loose ends.” The older man took a step closer. 

“I swear, I’m not like Dio. I didn’t ask him to use the mask on me!” You shouted. “I’ve known her since I was a boy. I take full responsibility! Just don’t-“ before the young man could finish, he passed out. Your eyes widened. You felt his breathing slow. He passed out!

The man with the top hat ran over to pull Jonathan off of you. “He’s worn out. JoJo’s been in more fatal fights tonight than a man should have in his lifetime!” The man said. “The name’s Robert E.O. Speedwagon, but you can shave off the first part and just call me Speedwagon.” He held out his hand for you to take it. You hesitated but you had no choice. “Er…Speedwagon.” You repeated to get used to the name. You stayed close to him since you were still afraid of the foreign hamon users. You felt like introducing yourself would put them at ease. They weren’t gonna kill you, right?

“My name (y/n) (l/n). Dio kidnapped me just after the Joestar mansion fell.” You began to explain. Already, it didn’t seem like they care all. All except for Speedwagon. He perked up at the sound of your name. “JoJo’s told me a lot about you! All of London thought you were dead, but Jonathan here knew that Dio got you once we knew the bastard lived through that fire!”

“Fire?” You repeated. “Were you there? Can you please tell me what happened that night?” You tugged at the man’s arm. Was it inappropriate for him to admit that he found you extremely attractive? 

Yes.

“Y-Yes, I was there. I met Jonathan that night as well. Dio was supposed to be arrested for the poisoning of George Joestar but then he used the mask and killed everyone except me and Jonathan. We had no choice but to set the house on fire.” Speedwagon noticed that with every word, the pain on your face became more apparent. “S-So, it’s true?” Your voice pitched up with sorrow as you accepted that Dio was a monster before he used the mask on himself. 

Due to Jonathan’s pleas and Speedwagon’s charisma, the Hamon masters spared you. Despite that being good news, the overwhelming hold in your heart would never easily recover from such a terrible circumstance. You’ve witnessed more death than any human should and even got to see the hybrid creatures that used to be people as well. You returned to Erina but only for a little while. The girl greeted you with open arms, balling her eyes out at the sight of you being unharmed. 

Then she saw your attire. You now adorned all black, wearing a black dress that covered your skin, leaving everything to the imagination. You had also been wearing an oversized Victorian bonnet that cast a shadow over your face, leaving only your eyes to be seen. They were different too, glowing bright red and festering with hunger. Somehow, the news of your transformation hit harder than the news of your supposed death. Now you could never rest as a creature of the night. 

You stuck around for the wedding of Jonathan and Erina. You were the best maid along with Speedwagon was the best man. You could sense him making his advances toward you but you’d always snuff out any ideas he may have gotten about you. It was quite humorous, actually. 

The couple planned to sail to the United States. You supported her decision and waved them goodbye as their ship set off. It took some thinking, but you came to the conclusion that you wanted to be a singer. There was no realistic way you could return to your previous occupation as the owner of Sweet Magnolia. The last thing you wanted was to resume things after that experience. 

Plus, it would be extremely hard to explain your reappearance after being declared dead. Your new life was overwhelming at first but perhaps it could be the beginning of something exciting. You could do…anything you wanted.

Anything. 

Your mother used to tell you that you’d have a good singing voice. It was the only way you could occupy yourself while doing chores back at the Pendleton mansion. Now it was time to test such a thing. What level of fame could one woman achieve with all the time in the world to practice and perform? Your career started slow. Not many people wanted to hear a woman they had never heard of before, but within a few years, you were able to perform at small gatherings for the first time. Networking proved to be a challenge but you began using your looks and wits as a way of convincing others. There was no longer an underlying fear of being attacked or harassed because of your new power. You felt like a queen who was taking in the world. Although, you knew better than to abuse your powers. You were still a good woman at heart. 

The horrors that caused the death of Jonathan Joestar didn’t reach you until it had long passed. Speedwagon found successful after also traveling to the United States. He became a wealthy man with his share of oil. He had men from his new organization send you an old letter from Erina along with the news that Jonathan has died.

“Dear (y/n),

This is Erina. I don’t know when I will be able to get this to you but when you receive it, please come to New York right away. The day Jonathan and I left for the Americas, the ship was attacked. Dio came back and was able to turn members of the crew into hideous monsters. Jonathan died protecting me. Now, I’m alone.

I’ve now seen the horrible things Dio has forced you to witness. I can’t be alone. I know that all you want to do now is leave your old life behind, but I need you.

-Erina.”

Tag list: @z3r0art ❤️

Hi guys! Like all my other stuff, this is not proofread very well. This is all for fun so I’m sorry if my writing style sucks lol

I’m also sorry for this part coming out much later than the other parts. I’ve been doing a lot of irl things to further my education in writing. I wanna write for video games and I honestly would love to be apart of the Riot Games team. I qualify to be a narrative writer for Legends of Runterra but I must live in Los Angeles…I don’t live there XD so yea. But I’m gonna keep improving. But yea that’s why I’ve been busy. I’ve been writing a lot of stuff that’s not for tumblr haha.

Up next will be the retelling of Stardust Crusaders. It’s supposed to be more sexually explicit than Phantom Blood bc I imagine Dio’s perspective of being a gentleman changes. Before I begin releasing that part, I’ll make an interlude telling the story of the female MC before Dio inevitably comes back with Jonathan’s body ❤️

See you guys soon! Thank you so much for all of your support! 💕

[tozettastone]

I read Anatomy: A Love Story by Dana Schwartz today. Here's what I thought about it!

It's set in 19th century Edinburgh and focuses on the supremely ahistorical antics of a young lady named Hazel. She is the granddaughter of a viscount, a reluctant socialite and an enthusiastic student of natural history, who wants to be a surgeon and who, being expelled from surgical lectures in town on account of her sex, eventually pays her romantic interest to steal bodies from their graves for the continuation of her studies.

By genre, Anatomy: A Love Story is a historical YA low fantasy novel with a romantic subplot. It's short, so it's definitely a one-day read. Aesthetically, the novel is dark and grim and romantic, but the story is pretty light. I find that this text's major flaw is its lack of subtlety, but that's a strength in other ways. I admire its forthright thematic coherency and straightforward storytelling, just as much as I pull a face each time Hazel does something spectacularly unlikely for a woman in her position at her time, or when a new self-indulgent storytelling cliche gets trotted out.

Light, fun, very readable. A good novel for people who want something totally unchallenging that they don't have to think hard about. Take it on holiday, maybe.

[fatuismooches]

SMOOOCHESSSS 🥹💗💗💗

HAPPY NEW YEARS!!

it’s so so so good hearing from you i missed talking to you so much ong I ACTUALLY LY STOPPP IM SO GLAD TO HEAR THAT YOURE DOING WELL💗 so so glad to be back as well teuehe

THE BREAKUP HIT HARD but it’s fine we move cus i caught that BITCH ASS flirting with someone else ALREADY sooo his loss 😌😌

onto my fictional boyfriends now because they can’t be dickheads

SWEET TOOTH DOTTORE MADE ME THINK OF LIKE BAKING FOR/WITH HIM specifically baking WITH akademiya zandik but ljke imagine if both him and reader suck ass at baking.. like by the time you’re both done it looks like you waged war with a cake loving raccoon and lost spectacularly. i also find it funny if tasted like ass too but both of you are too stubborn to admit so you wince and eat it anw

ALSO SWEET TOOTH DOTTORE X READER WHO HATES SWEETS it’s like olive theory<333

also allow me to be horribly self indulgent for a minute but roommate akademiya zandik after reader breaks up has been plaguing my mind

ANYWAYS ILL SPAM U SOME MORE IN A BIT <33 love being back in ur inbox i swear

- 🌕💗💗💗

AHH HAPPY NEW YEARS DEAR 🌕 ANON!! MWAH MWAH i missed talking to you too!! And gosh 🌕 anon i am so sorry he did that to you wtf?? You don't deserve that at all! I really hope you're doing okay from that, you deserve the world dearest 💗💗

BUT THAT'S SO CUTE... imagine reader after finding out their beloved Zandik has a sweet tooth, tries to be cute and all and bake him something sweet and yummy... only to miserably fail,, and Zandik comes home to smoke in the kitchen and you explain the situation in embarrassment. Deep down he thinks your attempt was cute but all you got was him telling you to clean up your mess. 😭 Even so to be honest I hc since Zandik can't cook he probably ate some things that were borderline inedible but didn't care because they sustained his body so, he might eat your failed sweets without batting at eye. 😭 (Unless they're so bad even he can't. That'd be a new record.) (ewkdbww i just know ready is devilish and playfully throws some flour at Zandik... he does not take that lightly)

WBQKDBW AND YES AWWWWH READER AND DOTTORE'S TASTES BEING OPPOSITE IS SO CUTE (i have an ask like that i need to respond to 😭😭🥹) ahh you not having a sweet tooth works out for him because he can just steal your sweets and you wouldn't mind... ❤️ PLEASE BE SELF INDULGENT I LOVE IT please tell me more about the concept but i am also scared at the same time because... a-angst. He would be so angry and upset and disappointed and sad and heartbroken and- so many things at the same time. 💔

[squadrah]

Imagine La squadra but it's just a 90's sitcom.

Been a while since I watched a 90's sitcom, but I'm cracking my knuckles, here we go!

Basic premise is that they all live in the same close neighborhood, so usually they show up together at local public places (café, bar, streets, each other's work places) for whatever reason.

Risotto: Bouncer at the local bar, so when everyone's there, he's usually on duty. Has had to remove every single person in the friend group from the bar at least once for whatever reason, some more smoothly than others. A stoic loner by nature, he has to ask his friends to help grow his collection of Beanie Babies, which he keeps in pristine glass cabinets (he is sometimes shown interacting with them because it adds that much needed moe to his personality). He and Formaggio are roommates, so the one time Risotto had to throw him out of the bar, he also had to carry Formaggio home.

Formaggio: Attendee at the nearby gas station, so every character who has a car ends up there and banter happens. Half of the cast gives him shit as comic relief, while the other half is in cahoots with him, because he tends to get Big Ideas that either work or fail spectacularly - whichever is funnier. Even when he wins big, you just know he's gonna blow all the money by next week and then he'll have to figure out something new. Despite this, he drops some nuggets of wisdom in unprecedented times. Not allowed to touch the Beanie Babies because he got grease on them once by accident.

Prosciutto: Legal expert at some nondescript company, so when anyone is pondering a scheme, he'll be the one casually chiming in on the legality of the thing and also the one finding loopholes in exchange for favors. Has incredible divorcee energy and there are a number of guys showing up whom he seems to have a history with, but none of them are ever confirmed as anything, so this is like a recurring mystery plot line the others like to pick up and discuss. Has some violent running gags because despite his resting bitch face, he's about as high strung as Ghiaccio and the others aren't helping.

Pesci: That one guy who has no idea how to stay on top of his own life so he keeps turning up at odd jobs, often plot-specific ones, but he is most often seen at the café or bar, cleaning tables and trying to stay part of the conversation. He's a sweetheart but also a hopeless romantic and a bumble bee, so everyone is always giving him advice, especially those who are not qualified to give life advice to anyone. Obviously has a thing for Prosciutto and the running gag is him sometimes playing up his own helplessness and lack of self-confidence a bit to get those much coveted face paps.

Ghiaccio: Works as a courier, so he's always up and about, running somewhere to deliver or having come from a delivery, and he also jogs in his free time, alone or with others like Risotto or Pesci. He's the angry one who always has a rant locked and loaded, and if anyone in the cast ordered something, including the aforementioned company Prosciutto (and others) work for, Ghiaccio will be the one coming in and questioning his and everyone else's life choices. He's kind of a health freak so some running gags involve him indulging a bit in something normal and then freaking out about it.

Melone: Secretary at the company Prosciutto works for, and one of his running gags is that whenever someone asks what the company does, he will say something new each time, to suggest that either the company is getting into all sorts of niches to stay afloat, or Melone is making shit up. Many scenes feature him on the phone, but it's almost never about company affairs because he just loves to chat and wasting company time. Obviously a sexy and perverted little freak but apparently he's the duct tape holding the company together, so no matter what he does they have to keep him.

Illuso: Pencil pusher at the same company as Prosciutto and Melone, and he copes with office life by stealing stationery. His kleptomania and hording tendencies tend to be his running gags, so sometimes he'll take out a pen to jot things down and Prosciutto recognizes it as his own and Illuso has to give it back or perish. Another company time waster, but unlike Melone, he gets to stay on board because he keeps dropping hints of how much he knows about the company's affairs and how much he would be willing to blab here and there. A smug jerk, but somehow he just fits in with everyone.

Sorbet and Gelato: Lumping them together despite leading separate lives because Sorbet runs the local café and Gelato runs the local bar, and they seem to have beef with each other where either one will turn up at the other's work place, stir up a big scene with tangible, nay, chewable homoerotic undertones, and then they always catch themselves having "gone too far" and arrive at some sort of truce. They are only ever fully friendly when blind drunk, in which case they have eyes for nobody else. Despite always talking of each other as a menace, it is very obvious that they're practically married.

[eyes-of-mischief]

weekly fic recs | 47

prompt: self-insert/OC-insert

fandoms: bnha, knb, mdzs, naruto, svsss

bnha

Causality of Temporal Paradox by MirrorDaltokki

"A tart temper never mellows with age, and a sharp tongue is the only edged tool that grows keener with constant use." - Washington Irving

In which you are very clearly not having a good time slipping through time and space.

Lucky for you, there's at least one constant. Hawks seems to not mind you showing up in his bed over and over again throughout his life.

But hey, look at the upside. There's pro-heroes, so that's kind of cool.

Cleaning Crew; Teaching Kids to Value their Safety, for Fun and Profit by Reavv

Takenaka Hideo is a thirty-two year old, in mild desperation for money, who has just been hired as a new janitor for UA's support staff. He has a quirk that lets him find lost objects, a liaison with the police because of it, and desperate desire for competent co-workers.

Oh, and he's already lived a previous life, in a world where quirks and heroes didn't even exist.

Not a big deal, though. It's not like you ever see the janitor playing a big part in action movies. He's here to get paid, and that's it.

On the opposite side of the equation, class 1-A has to wonder at the new UA cryptid that always seems to show up when things are on fire, and who keeps trying to convince them to let the adults handle the fire extinguisher.

knb

Horseshoes and Hand Grenades by Vroomian

You don't care about sports, and you didn't ask for this nonsense.

so miracles happen after all. by リリス - riris (arurun)

Paralyzed from the neck down, a former basketball star wished only for one thing.

And like a miracle, he wakes up in a new world, in a new body-- and there's only one thing he wants to do now, so he starts running.

"Wait, is this that basketball anime?"

Ball Is Life, But You Still Need To Pay Rent by vermillion_crown 

Here's the thing. Taiga has a little breakdown (politely, in the cabin restroom at 3:37 AM PST while the other passengers are dead asleep) and gets over it in the span of the eleven hour flight into Tokyo. The leftover memories in his head really help with perspective, let's just say.

He likes basketball. Loves it, even. Sure, maybe another team sport might do the trick in a pinch, but his body and reflexes are optimized for basketball. It'd be a waste of time to change tracks

Ball is life, but you still need to pay rent. Okay, well officially, his dad's paying the rent. But the sentiment still stands, right? There are other things to worry about.

Who the hell peaks in high school?

(SI/OC as Kagami Taiga, who just wants to ball—all the chūnibyō shit be damned.)

mdzs

by foot it's a slow climb by Vroomian

(graphic depictions of violence) (major character death)

So. Let's get this straight - I didn't set out to derail any plot. My plan was to lay low and stay away from canon. It's just...

My plans tend to fail.

Spectacularly.

i told you when i came i was a stranger by Caramelized

(mature)

A modern OC arrives in Yiling before the start of the Sunshot Campaign. She has no friends, no money, and no cultivation. She knows what's coming, but what could she possibly do about it? *** “Well…” I looked down at my fingernails and tried not to squirm. “If there were a way to separate Wei Wuxian from Madam Yu without ruining his relationship with his siblings, I’d encourage it. Like, as an example, marriage.”

Xichen blinked. “To you?”

“No. Absolutely not. What even—?” The thought was so abhorrent I couldn’t hold it in my head. My brain spat it right back out. “To your brother.”

Xichen blinked. Again. “To Wangji?”

“Obviously?”

“This is a concern of yours?”

“I realize it’s not my business at all,” I admitted. “But you asked.”

naruto

Doing the Work by MarbleGlove

There’s more to peace than the absence of war. The work is as hard and uncertain as any Shinobi mission.

AKA: A highly self-indulgent fic in which a civilian woman helps an orphaned Sasuke and winds up saving the world.

Making Lemonade by Meeceisme

(mature) (graphic depictions of violence)

Waking up after dying to a whole new life in a brand new body is a little outside his frame of reference. But he'll do his best to make the best of this weird as hell situation. Worse comes to worst he'll grab all his favourite people and run the hell away from this mad place.

Featuring: Konoha's atrocious orphanage system, cynical child soldiers and Kakashi's guilt complex.

wataru, wataru by unolvrs

(mature)

“Kirigakure didn’t need help. They needed salvation.”

No one knows anything about the Mizukage. Only that she’s kind. She likes to smile. She likes seafood like every other Mizu-born. And that there’s something inexplicably wrong with her. There’s something wrong with the Mizukage whom the Kiri-nin call a ‘god’.

—or, Wataru Wataru was never really a powerhouse, in this life or the last, but she’s resourceful. She knows cults, pyramid schemes, and corrupt politicians like the back of her hand, so of course, she becomes the Mizukage and becomes a god along the way.

svsss

exec_ep=diviega/. by MirrorDaltokki, MULmul

(mature) (major character death)

AKA: Female Protagonist Fights the System Because She Doesn't Want to Live on the Lesbian Peak Just Because She Won't Sleep With Luo Binghe and She Can Write This Piece of Trash Novel Better than The Stupid Author

[backyardflames]

I definitely think EE realised they made a mistake putting Honey and Jay together but the problem is that because they did it does take the impact of Jay and Lola away. You could understand with Lola's journey that she loved other people but it just hadnt been then the right time with Jay until it was.

But with him it felt like, even though they got back together before she was diagnosed, that he pressed fast forward on their relationship. I don't doubt that he loved her but for how rushed it was that they were back together then she was diagnosed suddenly she was the love of his life, but like he hadn't been trying to get her back in the years they were apart.

I think thats one reason why this storyline is bugging me so much because he's acting like he's the only one who is hurting, maybe the only one who has a right to be hurting. Like its *his* grief and no one elses but Billy, Ben, 100% Lexi lost way more than he did. I used to like Jay but everything has been so self indulgent and well just selfish. He should have removed him from Lexis environment if he ever cared for her. If he so determined not to move on because he doesnt want to forget Lola then he should have respected her memory enough to not be around her already vulnerable daughter.

Everyone grieves differently and whilst I dont like how hes doing it i can understand it, what I cant understand is how it's been coupled with ignoring everything he promised Lola.

I think the Honey and Jay thing could have been waved away if had been a month or something tops. But it was years. And the truth about Lola and Jay is that Lola never picked Jay when she thought she had other options. And Jay grew out of his Lola obsession years ago - he didn’t care when they broke up. And the whole lonely Jay thing isn’t something I buy either. He’s been firmly established in the Mitchell family for over a decade. He’s ‘one of them’. We’ve seen it repeatedly over the years. He’s a Mitchell. Yet now he doesn’t feel a part of them?!

They tell us he has this great relationship with Lexi but we’ve literally never seen it. He’s been her often absent uncle for most of her life and of course she loves him, but there’s never been any real warmth to their relationship. They’re like buds. They now have a trauma bond.

And the thing is, I don’t even have a problem with Jay grieving. Grief is selfish. But I do have a problem with the way it’s presented without consequence. He pushed Ben into the PR thing and he knows it - and at the first hurdle he falls so spectacularly that it renders the entire intention of the PR moot. But he should still be allowed the thing Ben absolutely didn’t want and he has failed at because…?

He does drugs around Lexi, putting her in danger and upsetting her but it’s everyone else that should feel bad for being angry because…?

He puts his grieving, traumatised and in recovery friend in an impossible position, but Ben is the one who is wrong because…?

He assaults the person trying to help him and minimises his relationship with his step daughter of 2+ years and doesn’t apologise but it’s ok because…?

Jay can fuck up spectacularly. I welcome it. And I would love him for it. But when the audience and show think it’s everyone else’s fault to the point where they need to manipulate people with awful, nonsensical writing, I’m not going to be moved by it.

Jay hasn’t grown as a character in years, and if they keep pulling this shit where he isn’t in the wrong, even when it’s clear he is, he’s never going to progress.

[umilily]

Since I can't draw for shit, I sadly can't make one of those yearly lookbacks, but there's something else I'd like to put out there as a sort of year-in-review (and to celebrate a little):

Once more – true to my brand – I managed to time things so spectacularly that I’m proud (?) to say that today is actually my one-year anniversary of posting fic. To be fair, I doubt that this will become an international holiday like any other minor ones going on atm, but nevertheless I just wanted to take a moment to write down some thoughts on that (because ah, yes, of course, more rambling from me), even if it’s just for myself to look back on both an occasionally very unusual, weird year.

No pressure to read or digest any of this, I think the only thing I really want to say to anyone who’s bothered reading this far (both this post and the things posted over the last year) is a huge thanks. If you had told me last December that a decision made while under the heavy influence of Ibuprofen and caffeine to combat one of the nastiest colds I ever had, would snowball into a year filled with kind words from strangers and new friends, I would have probably written you off as a fever dream. Oddly enough, it wasn’t, so somehow now I’m here writing this post that already feels too pompous, but that I can’t help wanting to type out regardless.

My own corner of the vast internet unexpectedly became a lot more populated than I’ve ever known it to be. Which feels hilariously ironic when I think about that at the same time, living abroad essentially nuked my social life with friends and family many hours away. But even if I still am very much reclusive – a rare encounter I suppose – and have only talked to very few people who hang around here, I’m still so very grateful for all the kind words from everyone found for me and my writing. Thank you all for keeping me company through me essentially just going “fuck it we ball” continuously.

The last year had some stretches that have been exhausting and rough and I think sticking with something self-indulgent and light-hearted kept me from going nuts at times. I’m not the type to make new years resolutions and when last year I told people that mine was “Doing things poorly”, it likely was the most confusing one they heard so far. For me personally, it was the best one out there, so I will be renewing that and (as proudly as possible) continue to do things poorly in 2024 as well. If people stick around for a laugh or two, I will take it as the highest praise and compliment.

On a more personal front, there is a good chance that I will start working full-time within the next year, so I also just wanted to take this chance for a little heads-up. If I end up disappearing for longer than what you’re used to from me being chronically online, it’s probably because I managed to fool people into hiring me and sadly not because I finally made the smart decision to become a hermit in the woods or retire to the seaside. (Or well, I might end up reacting the exact opposite. Because when have I ever made responsible, adult decisions regarding how to spend my free time? Who needs sleep when you can contemplate the enigmatic, inner machinations of your blorbo’s mind on the topic of coffee or Ikea furniture?) I will do my very best to be as consistent as possible, because even if I do get busy, writing has been something that brought me much more joy than I could have anticipated, and I would like to keep that going.

With that, I think I’m finally done and all that’s left for me to do is saying thanks again and wishing you all a relaxing holiday season and a good start into the new year! <3

[tirfpikachu]

vague trauma mentions cw also just super lengthy lol ;;

ok not to be cptsd and scarred from my mainstream tra days but when friends who genuinely know me flaws and all, and know my Dark Evil Views and everything, when they go out of their way to laugh with me and be nice to me...... it lowkey makes me want to freaking run away and cry under a pile of blankets for a solid 3 hours. like, holy shit..... i just get so emotional. i just Do Not Know What To Do With It All........... what do i even do with the knowledge that ppl see me, ME of all people, someone who fucked up so many times in spectacularly humiliating ways, someone who was hated so much throughout her childhood & teen years by her peers...... me as in my AUTHENTIC self not even my usual mask...... when they see me, the real me, and choose to go against everything the universe has taught me growing up and actually indulge me and choose to spend time with me and care for me and just.... wow. just. caring. about me. lowkey crying a bit rn. oof ouch. but in a very nice way. but also scary. genuine platonic love is so scary to my traumatized brain. being myself is so scary but i'm doing it so much lately. it's starting to feel so natural and it's becoming really hard to mask my true self at all. i keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, for friends to be disgusted by me or learn things abt me that makes them hate me, but it's just not happening so far and it's blowing my marbles rn. life is so crazy. i never thought this would ever happen. like this is really my life???!?!

i lost some very important friends a while back, some of my very first irl adult friends, bc i believed in female/afab-specific activism being needed and that exclusive same-sex/agab attraction is a wonderful sexuality that isn't a threat to trans rights. it was like suddenly my world was flipped upside down and my ex had gone behind my back and tarnished my name. but thankfully by then, i had my radfem friends... if i hadn't... it would've absolutely wrecked me. it would have utterly destroyed my mental health for a solid few months. but with my pokegyns & followers i felt so understood, so seen, and i knew i wasn't crazy. i didn't let them brainwash me into apologizing and taking back my totally normie "extremist" views. it's all thanks to you gyns. idk where i would be without radblr, especially tirfy/nuanced radblr. i'm still so weirded out that so many folks r so kind and patient w me and just seem to genuinely like being around me and talking to me. it's WEIRD!!!!!!! y'all shouldn't be doing it AND YET i can't even stop you......... i'm super duper unbelievably incredibly grateful ofc i absolutely adore you gyns but holy shit i am NOT used to it and my cptsd brain is still in shock and idk what to do w all this love!!!

[sterekchub]

Thoughts on chubby!Lydia stress estoy through college and subsequently blowing up rather spectacularly? Or even lydia taking to eating to quiet the banshee fugue state? Maybe feeder stiles or derek involved as well?

So, so many thoughts. I love Lydia and chubby Lydia is so rare to find. It makes sense that when she heads to college and leaves high school, most of her stress stays behind in Beacon Hills. There's no need to keep up the perfect girl routine, and age and time and constant death threats have probably changed her life view to "life is short...eat the cake." I can see her and Stiles going to the same colleges. Ivy League with scholarships, in quaint little New England towns with their fair share of ghosts, but most important, restaurants every corner and all within easy walking distance. Lydia actually enjoys herself. After everything she's gone through? A few organic chemistry classes are nothing. But the nightmares stay. Lydia spends a lot of time in late night dinners or in the 24/7 cafe on campus by the library. Reading, or keeping Stiles company as he's also up, indulging in a ridiculous amount of pastries and "so many calories they might as well be a milkshake" coffees. And there are the bad nights. Maybe when a hazing goes wrong, or when some of the seniors are stupid and drunk and Lydia wakes up screaming as the car crashes into a pole. But the feedings help. Stiles rubbing her belly and feeding her until she her stomach is heavy and she feels too full to think about death or her screaming, and all she can sense is how achingly full and lust-filled she is.

Lydia is too smart and too self-aware to deny it's a thing. Is matter-of-fact about it all, tells Stiles "we're going into town because everything I bought is getting too snug again." or "I'm getting too fat for these dresses" and they grab pancakes at an off campus diner and then the shops nearby. Lydia may not be as vain s she was in high-school, but she's not going to any efforts to hide her gains. Tight skirts, dresses that show off her growing belly and curves, crop top shirts with her love handles peeking out the side... (And I can see Derek also coming into the fold...bc I also love Stiles/Derek/feedee!Lydia. Maybe they call him when they realize something supernatural is brewing and he drives non-stop across the country to help them. Or Stiles and Lydia coming back one summer as an item, and find that Derek is...less than thriving. Has a job, is working to keep the occasional supernatural threats at bay, but he looks tired and thin and lonely. Derek needs a pack. So they make up a reason for him to come to campus with them. Encourage him to take a few classes, finish the degree he never completed when he and Laura were in New York. And it's not terribly long before they've pull him into their relationship - and before Lydia is pushing towards 350lbs with two very eager feeders in her bed.)