#worryin about everything one could think to worry about

[pellelavellan]

Alive just in the process of moving and it’s very overwhelming and time consuming going through all my stuff and purging it

[tokkiwrites]

summary: joel witnesses yet another fight between you and your dad, and frankly, he's tired of the way you've been talking to your old man. so he decides to teach you a lesson.

tags: pwp, dbf!joel, daddy kink, brat taming, spanking, age gap, p in v (unprotected yikes!), degradation, pet names, dirty talk galore!, creampie, head (f receiving), a short fight scene, family problems kind of, mean joel kind of.

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ⁩ authors note 𑁯 ✿ happy spookytokki kinktober!! the third and most anticipated one i think!! dbf joel wowza! 3.46k words of just pure smut >:) hope u likey! if u see any errors..no u dont.

“You’ve always gotta push every button, don’t you?” he snapped, his words flaring like sparks off dry wood. the kitchen boomed with both your voices. “Can’t you just do what’s best for once?”

You felt your pulse quicken, anger twisting up inside you like a coiled spring. “What’s best?” you spat back, incredulous. “You mean what you think is best, don’t you? God, Dad, you can’t keep treating me like I’m some clueless kid who needs his hand held!”

His face flushed a deep red, brows pulling tight together. “If you didn’t act like a kid, I wouldn’t have to! You wanna run off and live some big-shot life, fine. But don’t you dare act like I’m the one in the wrong for worryin’ about you.”

Before you could bite out a response, the sound of a chair creaking interrupted you. Joel shifted where he sat in the living room, the leather of the old armchair groaning under his weight. He hadn’t said a word since the argument began, just sat there with his arms crossed and a distant look on his face. Now, though, he glanced over, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before sliding back to your father.

“Maybe…” Joel’s voice was low, that drawl he had stretching the word out slow and easy. “Maybe you both wanna step back a bit. Cool down some.”

Your father exhaled, frustration radiating off him in waves, but he gave a terse nod, like he knew there wasn’t any use arguing anymore. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Probably for the best.”

He threw one last look your way—one full of hurt and something else, something that looked a lot like regret—before turning sharply and stalking out of the kitchen. The front door opened and then slammed shut behind him, the sound reverberating through the house.

You stood there for a moment, the silence thick and oppressive. Then, with a growl of frustration, you spun on your heel and stormed down the hallway to your room. The door banged shut with a sharp thud, and you collapsed onto the edge of your bed, breath coming in quick, angry bursts. You hated that he could still get under your skin like that, twist everything you said, and make you feel small, childish.

Minutes ticked by, your thoughts a jumbled mess of resentment and guilt, when you heard a soft knock on your door. It was barely more than a tap, but it sent a jolt through you. You sat up straighter, glaring at the door.

“Come in,” you said, voice flat.

The door creaked open, and Joel stepped inside, the light from the hallway casting his shadow long across the floor. He closed the door behind him, leaning back against it with his arms crossed over his chest.

“He’s gone,” he said quietly, his accent thickening his words. “Gone off to cool his head, like he always does.”

You just huffed, crossing your arms. “Good. Let him stew all he wants.”

Joel’s gaze flickered, his expression as unreadable as ever. “You know, you sure got a smart mouth on you,” he drawled slowly, each word rolling off his tongue like honeyed molasses. “Always did. But there’s a fine line between standin’ up for yourself and bein’ plain disrespectful.”

You stared at him, taken aback. “Disrespectful?” The word tasted bitter on your tongue. “He’s the one who—”

“—who’s worried ’bout his little girl.” Joel’s voice was steady but firm, cutting through your protest. He took a step forward, his gaze never leaving yours. “Look, darlin’, I know you’re frustrated. And I know he ain’t the easiest man to deal with. But the way you talked to him back there? That’s somethin’ you oughta be ashamed of.”

Heat flared up your neck, your pulse pounding. “I’m not ashamed. He never listens to me, Joel! No matter what I say, it’s like—”

“Don’t matter if he’s listenin’ or not,” Joel interrupted softly, shaking his head. “There’s a right way to talk to your folks, and that wasn’t it.”

You swallowed hard, struggling to hold his gaze. “So, what, you’re on his side now?”

Joel sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, his brow furrowed like he was tired of this whole conversation. “Ain’t nobody pickin’ sides here. But I’ll tell you this—you sounded like a brat, plain and simple.”

You sucked in a sharp breath, your heart lurching. “A brat?”

“Yeah,” he drawled, the word drawn out and almost lazy. He took another step closer, his gaze sharpening. “Actin’ like you know it all, like you’re too good to hear what he’s got to say. I get it—you’re grown, got your own ideas. But a little respect don’t hurt none.”

Something about the way he was looking at you—like he could see right through the front you were putting up—sent a strange thrill skittering down your spine. You shifted on the bed, your breath catching as he moved even closer, the distance between you shrinking to just a few feet.

“I don’t need a lecture from you,” you murmured, the words lacking their usual bite.

“Maybe not,” Joel agreed softly, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “But I reckon you need someone to remind you how to mind your manners.”

Your heart pounded hard against your ribs, the room suddenly feeling too small, too hot. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Joel’s lips curved into the faintest hint of a smirk, his eyes dark and unreadable. “Means you’re actin’ like a spoiled little girl who needs to be put in her place. Someone’s gotta teach you how to behave.” You swallowed, pulse racing as you held his gaze, the challenge hanging thick. “And you think you’re the one to do that?”

“Maybe,” he murmured, voice rough. “Guess we’ll just have to see, won’t we?” There was something dangerous in the way he said it—something that sent your heart and head into a frenzy. You knew you were treading into territory you shouldn’t, but the pull was quietly simmering beneath the surface.

It was hard to ignore how close he was now, standing just a few steps away, his broad frame taking up so much space in the room. You tried to look away to push down the tension that was building, but your body betrayed you. You wanted to deny it, the way your pulse quickened when he spoke to you like that. The way his presence—strong and steady—always made you feel something you weren’t sure how to handle.

“I don’t need you telling me how to behave, Joel,” you muttered, but your voice lacked its usual edge. His lips quirked up, his eyes dark as they held yours. “someone’s gotta.”

Joel was always calm, always collected, but there was something in his voice that you couldn’t shake off, and it only made the knot in your stomach tighten. He took another step toward you, and you could feel the air shift. “You’ve always had a way of pushin’ boundaries, darlin’,” he drawled, his voice tickling you, “but there’s a fine line between speakin’ your mind and actin’ out.”

You bit your lip, unsure if you wanted to push him away or let this go further. You’d always had a thing for him—Joel wasn’t just any man. He was the kind of guy who was steady when everything else wasn’t. Rugged, manly in a way that most men your age couldn’t pull off, and there was something about him that made you feel both safe and completely off-balance at the same time. It was a crush you’d tried to bury, but moments like this made it impossible to forget about it.

Your heart raced in your chest, a wild rhythm that matched the storm of thoughts swirling in your mind. Joel had always been a figure of strength, a constant, rugged presence in your life. you’d always admired him from far, always found yourself drawn to him, even when you tried to deny it. That unspoken crush, the way your gaze lingered on him longer than it should, the way your stomach twisted when he called you "darlin’." It had been easy to brush off before to keep it hidden in the safe corners of your mind. But now, those feelings were too close, too raw, spilling over into the silence between.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumbled, but even to your own ears, it sounded weak. Joel’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, and before you could pull yourself together, he stepped closer. Close enough now that you could feel the warmth of him, his presence filling the space around you until it felt like you could barely breathe. his smell was suffocating, making your lungs burn.

“I think I know exactly what I’m talkin’ about,” he said, "You do too. And since your daddy didn't teach it to you, it seems like i need to take the brat out of you." His gaze didn’t waver, his words deliberate, each one sinking into your heart like they were meant to. Your breath got stuck as his words settled over you, thick and heavy like a weight you weren’t quite ready for. The air in the room wrapped around your throat like a chain.

His eyes bore into yours, and you couldn’t look away even if you wanted to. His presence seemed to swallow everything else—the fight with your dad, the anger simmering in your chest, the stubbornness you wore like armor. Now, it all felt fragile, like glass under pressure. And Joel, standing so close, felt like the force about to shatter it.

A shiver rippled down your back, and you felt disarmed. Your body betrayed you—heat rising in your cheeks, your heartbeat so fast and loud you were sure he could hear it too. You wanted to protest, to say something sharp and cutting, to remind him he wasn’t your father and didn’t get to tell you what to do. But the words got stuck.

There was something in the way he looked at you now—unflinching, steady, like he had all the time in the world to watch you break. You’d never felt so vulnerable, so completely exposed. And yet, beneath that vulnerability, a dangerous thrill settled through you, a pull you couldn’t quite explain. It was wrong, wasn’t it? To feel this way, to let his words, his presence, affect you like this.

But you did let it affect you.

Joel scanned your face as if he was waiting for something—for you to break, to push back, or to surrender. You felt exposed under his gaze

And God, the way he stood there—so solid, so sure of himself. You had never felt smaller, more out of control, and at the same time, more drawn to that feeling of submission. It was like standing on the edge of a cliff, looking down into the abyss, knowing you shouldn’t jump but feeling the undeniable urge to fall anyway. fall into him.

"So here's how this is gonna go. While your dad is out to cool off 'm gonna teach you some manners, and when he comes back, you'll be good and ready to apologize." His calloused fingertips trace the side of your face. "How's that sound, angel baby?" You wanted to reply, to say something. this all felt like a dream, granted, a dream you didn't want to wake up from.

"Stayin' quiet now won't save your pretty ass, girl." Joel tuts, fingers slowly tangling themselves around your locks, pulling at them to make you look up. it made it hard to think straight. " I'm sorry.." And he chuckles at your words. "Now that's somethin'...so you can apologize." he said, almost mocking you. truthfully, him talking to you this way made all of your thoughts fuzzy, so you were basically on autopilot. the ends of your brows tie in a frown, unable to say anything more.

"Get up." Joel taps the side of your shoulder, his stern tone deafening the ring in your ears. "W-why?" You stammered. he rolls his eyes and tugs lightly on the blouse you had on. "Cause I'm 'bout to teach you a lesson. So you learn that being a brat has consequences. I ain't as soft as your dad."

Slowly, you shifted, pushing yourself off the bed, your legs shaky beneath you. Your heart pounded in your chest as you stood in front of him. As soon as you were upright, Joel’s hand released you, settling himself down on the edge of your bed, the place where you'd just been sitting, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. The bed dipped under his weight, his broad shoulders taking up more space than they should, and your eyes couldn’t help but linger on him for a second longer than you intended.

"Bend over." You swallowed hard, eyes widening. "Excuse me?" You could believe what he just saidㅡ" Surely you were dreaming. It's like he crawled into the deepest space of your brain and digged in there to find the exact ways to make you fold. "C'mon, i ain't got all day. And your dad is probably coming back soon. So bend over." Joel said whilst patting his thick thighs, signaling you to settle on them. Every part of you was attuned to him—his voice, his movements, the way he looked at you - so you obey.

with shaky movements, you bend over his legs, your behind perked up and back arched. you feel his palm on the small of your back, spreading warmth through your body, before he fully moves it down to pull on the hem of your pants. "Can I take these off, sweetheart?" Your heart trembles, eyes closing as you mutter a soft 'yes'. Joel drags your pants down to your folded knees, along with your underwear, the sudden cold feeling enveloping your skin. "Look so pretty like this, baby." joel leans in, trailing soft kisses down the curve of your spine all the way to your lower back. your body jolts as you try to remain quiet.

with no warning, he pulls his hand back and settles in with a hard smack on your sizzling skin. the harsh hit priks at your skin as it reddens, and you can't help but let out a soft yelp. "Count for daddy." and it takes you off guard, but you comply.

"o-one." joel hum, rubbing that spot before delivering another slap. "Two -" three slaps, then four, then five more, and you turn into a teary, weeping mess. how beautifully you splayed yourself onto the man's lap, each jolt of your body inviting him further in. for him, it was over in seconds, but for you, it felt like an eternity before you heard his voice again.

"Up. And bend over." in no time, you're bent over the edge of the bed, ass up and face flush with the mattress. the cold air hits your exposed cunt and your skin still hurts where he spanked you. He grips your hips, nails digging into your soft flesh, and you can feel his hardon resting between your legs. "This pussy is crying for me, huh?" he's cocky with the way he says it, two of his fingers gathering up the glistening liquid from your puffy lips, then bringing them to your mouth. "Be a doll." he's playing with you, but you? you do as you're told because he has you so drunk on him, in a way you've never felt before. you lick around his digits, tasting yourself and he delivers a proud slap to one of your asscheeks. "You pretty brat." back behind you, he crouches on one knee before drawing a long strip from your sensitive clit to your entrance with his tongue, the same two fingers you had licked, now slipping inside of you.

your back arches as a wave of pleasure breaks over your body like water on a shore. his licks are now concentrated on your bud, fingers quickening their pace as Joel hums at your sweet taste. You moan and writhe, that familiar warm feeling building up inside of you again. but as soon as you were there, he stopped, pulling back to see the shaky, wet mess you were. "P-lease, daddyㅡ"

he tuts, slapping your plush thighs. "You take what I give you. don't get greedy. You're lucky if I'm gonna let you come at all right now. this is supposed to be a lesson." the pain of that sick pleasure envelopes you and you sit with your cunt exposed as you hear Joel fumble the pockets of the pants he had already taken off. 'condoms' he mumbled, as if he knew what you were thinking.

"I'm clean.." You manage a whisper. "And on birth control." he sighs in relief. "Good." You can feel he is less tense now, his presence still behind you. with no warning, he flips you over, back on the bed and ass on the edge of it, that had your legs settle around his hips with ease. "Spread 'em." So you do. you spread your legs as much as you can, giving him a full view. Joel smiles, thumb back to rubbing circles onto your clit. "You're so beautiful." it was so sincere, so sweet you could almost taste it.

his gentle gaze soon got replaced by the hungry one he had all this night whilst staring you down. Finally, he aligns the tip of his shaft with your entrance and slowly pushes the tip in. Your breath got stuck into your throat, from the feeling laden with thornsㅡ Every prick of discomfort is countered by an unexpected surge of delight. Your tears fall down onto the mattress under you, little moans gripping your throat as he slips inside further. "You're okay, baby, you're okay. C'monㅡ" he assures you, asking you to surrender. "Take it all- theere we go.." Joel praises, lifting your hips a bit to get a better angle. He moves gently, each stroke hitting deeper within your core, the pain soon converging with ecstasy right as he alerts his movements.

you wrap your legs around him loosely but he takes you by your ankles and almost folds them over your stomach, providing him a better position to pound straight into you, hitting that sweet spot on and on. his hips dive down, one of his palms snaking up and wrapping itself tightly around your throat. your head was spinning, heart pounding, as his whole weight dominated over you. "That's it, baby, knew you could take it. Now you gotta apologize for being a little brat." his thrusts are rough, each hit making your body bounce, the urgency as he hit that very spot each timeㅡ your whole insides burning, too cock drunk to talk or respond, other than some pathetic whines that perfectly accompanied the wet sounds your pussy made wrapped around Joel.

"C'mon baby, say it, say what i wanna hearㅡ fuck." he hammered deep into you, the trinkets from your bedside table clinking soft melodies, as Joel held you by your hips. "I'm s-orry, daddy! I'm so sorryㅡ" you sob, trying your best to be coherent. "That's it, good girl, good fucking girl."

Feeling you tightening, the hand that was around your throat slips down to your clit, while the other makes you spread your legs wide again for easier access, giving you a chance to take in a big gasp of air. "want me to breed this pussy, huh? fill you up with my babies? maybe then youll learn to behaveㅡ shit!" the room spins around you, body floating as if ready to plummet back down, you try your best to reply. "yes, yes- please, please, daddy, I'm sorryㅡ"

"Dirty fuckin' girl. Go ahead, 'f daddy." the man succeeded to say, between his breathy groans. "Thank you, thank you, oh god, thank you so much daddy!" you say as if praying to him whilst he keeps fucking into you. he pounds into you as you come down from your high, your body almost too limp to register your surroundings. he slap your thigh, strong grips now onto your breasts as he comes ropes inside of you, then he pulls his length out of your pulsing walls, some come landing on your stomach.

and for a moment there was silence. this really just happened. joel pulls out and watches intently as his seed drips out of you, your body beautifully splayed out right under him. You squeeze around nothing, licking your lips, as you feel the warm trickles of come dripping from your stomach to your chest due to your position. you're both quiet for a bit, catching your breaths, as he scoots you better on the bed. "shit, babyㅡ look at that. so pretty." he smiles kissing your shoulders, "so pretty like this, f' me."

"I'm sorry for being a brat.."

" 's fine, baby. if you're too good i won't have any reason to punish you anymore. You wouldn't want that, would you?"

you wouldn't, indeed.

[livingformintyoongi]

can we have a drabble or oneshot where the oc says 'i can't pay for anything* this time' or offers to split the budget 50/50 and jungkook literally😒😤😡🤬 gets mad like I'm your man I'm responsible for you etc🤭hehehhe make me a delululu, I don't have work tomorrow♥️😂

Princess Treatment

a/n: I'M OFFICIALLY BACK (this is the first order I've uploaded in months lol). First of all, I'm sorry to be back after so long, I've been very busy, but I'm finally a free person and I'm at your complete disposal!

Warnings: I read the request and immediately thought of Jungkook from BOTN so I couldn't help myself and ended up using his story as the basis for the drabble, so yes, this is a little drabble of Jungkook vocalist and Y/N's relationship!, reader is 2 years older than Jk, Jungkook is totally and completely in love with Y/N and he doesn't mind hiding it, he's been in love for a long time and is willing to give anything to keep his princess happy because he knows how much she's worth and deserves to be loved <3.

WC: 760

Taglist: @thunderg @minjianhyung @queenv1997 @yoongtism @lizzymizzy-blogg @superbbananananana @drpepperobsessed @themwordsblog @taekritimin123 @bluecloudss @yooglefics @irishhbamb

Dividers: @omi-resources

"What did you say?" Jungkook murmured, stopping his fork halfway to his mouth. You were sure he'd heard what you said, but judging by the frown on his face, he didn’t seem to like the idea much.

“No... I don’t think I can pay the rent this month, at least not on my own,” you bit your bottom lip, feeling your hands begin to sweat with the uncertainty. “Do you think we could split it?” you sighed, hiding your face behind your hands. You felt embarrassed, maybe even a bit ridiculous. You were older than him, you’d been working longer than he had—how could you ask him for this? It felt really humiliating.

For a moment, you thought he’d react the same way your ex had when you asked him for the same thing a few years ago. You could almost hear the excuses and how asking for a 50/50 split was stupid, especially since he barely spent any time at home that month.

But you’d forgotten something important. This wasn’t your ex. This was the damn Jeon Jungkook, the guy who’d waited almost a decade to be with you, the one who fought with your ex when he found out what he’d done, the same one who sacrificed his reputation and the band’s just to rush to the hospital when you’d had a small accident.

“No, forget it, how could I let you pay the rent on your own?” he quickly shook his head, pushing his plate aside to look at you like you’d just said the dumbest thing he’d ever heard, “I’ll cover all the expenses, don’t worry about it.”

You froze for a few seconds, slightly opening your mouth in surprise. Had you heard that right? Did he want to pay it all? Everything?

You shook your head, trying to regain your composure before asking again, “What...? Sorry, I think I heard wrong. You want to pay it all? The whole rent?”

“And the bills too,” he said matter-of-factly, pouring himself more soju. He glanced up for a second, then gave you that signature smile of his that melted your heart every time you saw it. “Noona, I’ve been paying for this place since the beginning, and it was me who asked you to live here with me in the first place. How could I let you pay the rent? And by yourself?” He shook his head, letting out a laugh. “That’s stupid.”

“It’s not... I…” you tried to say something, anything, ask him why he was doing this, but for some reason, it was hard for you to say anything. Probably because you’d never had a boyfriend so understanding.

“Besides... it would be unfair to split the rent 50/50 when our salaries are different. I’ve seen how much you’ve worked to get where you are, and I’ve seen how they pay you pennies for the amazing work you do,” he took your hand across the table, bringing your knuckles to his lips and pressing a soft kiss against them. “I want you to have that money for yourself, to spend on you, without worrying about how much you need to live in our home.”

“Jungkook…” you murmured, feeling your cheeks begin to heat up. What were you supposed to do in situations like this? Laugh? Cry? Run away? The last option seemed good.

“As long as I have a job, I’ll give you absolutely everything you want, Y/N, because that’s what you deserve,” he smiled softly, his lips still gently pressed against your knuckles, sending a jolt of electricity down your spine from the contact.

“Ugh, don’t look at me like that,” you said quietly, lowering your head and covering your eyes with your hand. You felt way too embarrassed, way too shy.

“Like what?” he laughed, tilting his head, trying to make eye contact with you. A triumphant smile spread across his face when he succeeded.

“I don’t know... like you love me too much,” you murmured, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. You knew he was looking at you, and you knew he liked seeing you like this. For some reason, you didn’t feel as embarrassed with him, you felt... happier.

“Because I do, Noona,” he moved his free hand to your cheek, barely grazing it with the tips of his fingers. It felt warm and soft and so... right. “I’ve loved you for years.”

And you knew he meant it, because, damn, how could that bright look in his eyes full of hope be fake?

Masterlist.

[theplottdump]

Kate: Got anything yet? Vera: It's faint but I'm picking up voices inside!

Poppy: Uh, Okay. Next question. Mom… 𝘸𝘩𝘰'𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵?

Hinoki: That, my darling, is the reason I brought you here. (🎵)

Hinoki: Like I told you before, in every universe, every reality - there was always one constant. One child that got left behind.

Hinoki: Poppy, this is your little sister. Her name is Vera. Poppy: 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰…

Hinoki: After I gave birth, your father offered me an ultimatum. I did everything I could to make sure she was safe- cared for. I couldn't lose you, destroy the life we had made for all of you.

Poppy: So you cheated on dad - and made the baby disappear. Hinoki: Until two days ago.

Hinoki: My perfect mistake. My Vera. Come running back to me.

𝗬��𝘂 𝗱𝗼���'𝘁 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗜'𝗱 𝗴𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗳𝗶𝘅 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴.

Kate: You're running off too!? Diego: Kate, someone's gotta go after her- she'll throw herself halfway to Sunday ridin' like that. Kate: We don't even know why she took off!

Kate: So you're both just going to leave me here to do everything? She cracked the drone controls- It's stuck in a bush and I can't even get visuals! Diego: I think you need to start worryin' less about the job, and more about your friend. Kate: I'm WORRYING about the success of my TEAM.

Diego: Then maybe you should consider takin' your own advice, and go jump in the lake.

Diego: Just make sure you get her back safe for me!

Kate: You think I won't !? Diego: I was talking to the horses!

Kate: 𝘙𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵.

[feraliminal]

Just wondering, how do you think Skibidi Toilet will affect tech-head (camera, speakers and TV) character designs afterwards?

Would skibidi toilet popularity cause such character designs to be immediately reminding people of skibidi toilet? Mind you, I actually like skibidi toilet series. But the latest news about Michael Bay adapting it means it'll probably get a lot bigger in public consciousness, and I don't want to be seen as a rip-off.

Oh, that’s a super interesting question, and one of the first I’ve had! (Note to people in general, I have the “must be invited” vampire autism, so I’m not great at being outgoing, but I am friendly really, so feel free to ask stuff or say hi!) My first thought from a fandom anthropology perspective would be to check out if there’s any precedents and how that’s played out. Unfortunately nothing comes to mind about how to find that out.

So I think what I’d say is that some people who aren’t really familiar with object heads might assume that tech head characters are from Skibidi Toilet, but people who are actually interested in the character concepts won’t. And that spontaneously (or even not spontaneously) having the same ideas as other people is totally normal, and worrying about that is also totally normal, but you shouldn’t let it hold you back from sharing your creativity. You know that what you’re doing is yours, people who are genuinely interested in your character/s will love them, and people who are unfairly judging them at face value aren’t worth worrying about.

I expect that it might happen a little bit, because people do confuse similar-looking genres - like some people believe that all Western animation is Disney or all anime is naughty tentacles. But on the bright side, the Alliance factions do have a specific look - types of camera/speaker/TV, clothing styles, colour schemes, post-apocalyptic setting, etc. I’d expect that would probably continue into a film, and it would function similar to other genres of character - everyone knows about Dracula, but vampire characters aren’t considered rip-offs of Dracula unless they’ve got the cape, the widow’s peak, etc. And even if they are derivative, eg. Alucard from Hellsing, they can still be really original and fascinating characters in their own right.

Also, there’s the question of whether even it matters if something appears accidentally derivative. I’d very much like to say it absolutely shouldn’t. If you’ve had the idea, and you know it came from you, then it’s your idea, and it’s just one of those pranks that the universe plays if someone else had the same idea. Another point of view could be that there’s no original ideas - there’s a theory called “cultural universals” that says the same symbols keep showing up in different cultures because they mean something about how we understand the world.

“Human-shaped things with non-human heads”, for example, are a trope as old as human culture. Animal-headed people are the oldest. I’m including a pic of the Dancing Sorcerer, because I love them and have used their concept a ton in my non-fandom life even if they might not actually be that authentic an example of cave art (and actually a story about someone interpreting a smudgy sketch as a deer-person, and then as a sorcerer, is also interesting). The lion man is authentic. A pretty direct ancestor of today’s object heads could be Japanese tsukumogami from the 12th century or earlier. We obviously personify animals as being like us because we can see they behave a bit like us, but in the case of personified objects, the connection is that humans personify everything because we’re so good at spotting emotion - it’s so important for maintaining relationships with other humans to know that, for example, a person we treat badly will be upset that we also worry that a tool we mistreated won’t work because it’s upset too. That’s useful in itself because then we take better care of our stuff.

However, in reality, it’s hard to get over worrying about being derivative. I’m autistic and returning to fandom after a five-something year absence, so I’m still not comfortable with the unspoken social norms. Looking like I’ve swiped someone else’s idea is one of the (many haha) things that scares me, and I’ve abandoned unfinshed fic because someone else has written/drawn something that’s… kind of maybe the same if you peer between your legs and look at it upside down.

It actually annoys me how many ideas I’ve abandoned or haven’t been able to finish because I’m worried about people’s reactions - but no one’s actually reacted really badly at all. I wouldn’t want anyone else to have the same experience. And if I was advising someone else in the same situation as me, I’d say that it doesn’t matter if something is kind of similar at first, it’s how originally it’s used that matters. Anyone accusing someone of swiping an idea or being derivative or somesuch just because they happened to have the same idea at the same time (and aren’t actually, like, copy-and-pasting bits of someone’s fic or something) is just being a massive wanker. Even in the world of making media for money, people have the same ideas all the time - like schools where children learn magic, an impulsive character with a red colour theme and, probably one of the oldest themes, a hero maturing by going on a journey and facing a challenge. Check out the TV Tropes wiki for endless examples, because some of these themes really are older than dirt.

[player1064]

feb 2016 🤔

WIP asks but it's just the various sections of my happy (???) beville (/angsty carraville) WIP

quick authors note this is smutty but not THAT smutty but also possibly the smuttiest thing I've ever written in my life which is not saying much but this is just to say. go easy on me on that front 😅

---

February, 2016.

It feels a bit pathetic to admit, but Gary’s only slept with one person his whole life. His mates tease him about it, even Becks does sometimes, but to Gary it’s almost a point of pride. He’s spent the last twenty years honing his skill in the art that is making love to David Beckham, and he’s not just tooting his own horn when he says he’s damn good at it.

This, though, this isn’t making love. This is fucking, plain and simple and ugly. And it’s not David.

He’s on his back on a king-sized bed in a hotel room in Barcelona, and he’s staring resolutely up at the ceiling trying not to think too much about the fact that it’s Jamie Carragher looming over him, Jamie Carragher pinning his wrists above his head, Jamie Carragher’s dick pushing inside him.

It’s rough, not in an unpractised way (almost suspiciously not, when Gary thinks of the cool silver band still sitting on Jamie’s finger), but in a ‘this is all I want from you’ way. In a ‘this is all you deserve’ way.

Becks is never rough with him. He can’t be, it’s just not who he is. Even when they were younger, when everything was new and exciting and they were still trying to learn what made each other tick, even then, when Gary had asked if he could try throwing him round a bit, he’d never been able to make it work. He loves Gary too much to hurt him, he’d said, apologetic. Not even consensually.

Jamie Carragher has no such fucking problem.

He’s muttering as he thrusts, a mixture of insults and obscenities that Gary’s mostly tuned out. He scrapes his teeth over Gary’s sensitive spots, just on the wrong side of too much pressure, and he presses his fingers so hard into the soft flesh of Gary’s middle that he just knows it’s going to leave a mess of bruises behind.

A mess of bruises which Becks won’t ever need to know are there, because when Gary goes home tomorrow it’ll be to the house he’s renting in Valencia, the one that’s always so jarringly quiet and empty because Becks isn’t there, Becks is still in Manchester.

The thought makes tears prick in his eyes, and Jamie pauses, moves a hand up to touch Gary’s cheek, unnervingly gentle. Gary has no choice but to look at him, them, to remind himself what it is exactly he’s doing here. That’s enough to push him over the edge, he feels a tear well over and roll down his cheek, clamps his lips shut before there’s a chance for a sob to escape.

Jamie, still too gentle, brushes the tear away with his thumb. He’s frowning, worried even as he’s panting from the exertion, even as he’s kneeling there with his dick halfway into Gary’s arse.

“Don’t,” he says quickly, looking away again with an embarrassed blush. “Please, just don’t. I said I wanted a distraction, didn’t I, so fuckin’ get on with it.”

“Are y’sure?”

Gary nods, and Jamie does too, just once in confirmation, before his fingers go to grip Gary’s hips and he pushes back inside of him, the force of it painful in the exact right way.

Later, when they’re done, Jamie rolls off Gary and onto his back, sweaty and exhausted. He grins when Gary turns his head to look at him, opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, and Gary leaps out of the bed to run to the bathroom and throw up.

Oh, God.

What has he done.

Jamie gives him a minute before following him into the bathroom, squatting down next to him to rub his back as he sobs over the toilet bowl.

“This is makin’ me feel all wrong, Gary. I never meant to upset you, I thought you wanted it like –”

“—I did,” Gary interrupts. “I did, this is nothin’ to do w’that. ‘snothin’ to do w’you, don’t be so full of yourself.”

“Well excuse me for worryin’, I’ve never ‘ad someone cry while I’m fuckin’ them before.”

“You fuck a lot of people, then?” Gary asks, turning to look pointedly at Jamie’s wedding ring.

Jamie bristles. “Maybe I do, yeah. None of your fuckin’ business, is it? You’re the one who was askin’ for it, you desperate slut.”

Despite having come just a few minutes ago, despite being knelt on a cold bathroom floor with tear tracks on his face and the taste of vomit in his mouth, Gary feels his dick twitch with interest at the words, just a tiny bit. He feels his cheeks flush, hopes Jamie hasn’t noticed.

“I’ve never –” Gary takes a shaky breath. “I’ve never done nothin’ like this before. I’m – I have someone. I’ve had someone, for last twenty years. We never, uh, we’ve never had to live apart before, not for this long. It’s been tough. And that loss, today…”

He sighs, lets himself lean back against Jamie’s bare chest, lets Jamie press a kiss to the crown of his head.

“It stops feelin’ so bad, eventually,” he says softly. “The guilt. You get used to it. But I know, the first time is – I never knew you ‘ad a partner.”

“No, ‘cause it’s none of your fucking business, Jamie. And this isn’t – this isn’t a first time, it’s an only time. You might be able to fuck around all you want, but that’s not me.”

“Ha ha,” Jamie says flatly. “Who knows, Gary, maybe you’ll be back in Manchester with yer partner sooner’n you think, the way people were goin’ on in that press conference.”

“Don’t even fuckin’ joke about that, Carra, what a shitshow.”

[nero-vanderwolf]

(takes place in 2009)

One thing about Akihiko Sanada was that he was dependable.

He was stupid, reckless, and often didn’t think things through, but he’d always come running to help you. He’d throw himself in front of you if you needed protection. He would do everything in his power to help you.

Something Shinjiro found himself relying on more and more recently.

He’d been out of practice, living on the streets. He wasn’t as skilled as he’d used to be, resorting to heavy blows and heatbutts to finish off enemies. Unfortunately, Aki noticed.

“Hey, you good? You look tired, Shinji,” he said one day, as Shinjiro leaned against a wall.

“ ‘M fine. Don’t worry about me, Aki,” Shinjiro replied, and felt a hand rest on his shoulder. It took everything in his power not to lean into it, to let himself enjoy Aki’s company.

It’d be better for both of them if they stayed distant. It’d be better for Aki. Shinji didn’t want to risk him getting hurt too.

“If you need to take a break, you should tell Makoto. He’ll swap you out with someone else,” Aki continued, and Shinji felt his resolve waver as his old friend stepped closer. Shinji could feel his body heat, hear his breath. Did Aki always have freckles?

“Shinji, seriously, do you need to stop? You look feverish,” Aki said, leaning closer. Shinji felt his muscles tense up.

“I’m fine. Let’s keep going- the others are probably worryin’ about us,” Shinji murmured, pushing past his friend. He couldn’t keep doing this. He really couldn’t.

Aki stumbled slightly, and Shinji felt hands on his shoulders whirling him around. “What is your problem?”

Shinji tensed. “Fuckin’ nothing. Just tryin’ to get back into the swing of things. What’s your problem?”

One thing about Akihiko Sanada was that he was pathetically easy to provoke. Even the smallest slight against him set him off. The slightest provocation pissed him off.

“My problem? Look, Shinji. You keep fucking ignoring me, and when you do talk to me you randomly shut down!”

Shinji scowled, and Aki gripped the front of his shirt. “You’re a damn asshole, Shinji, and-”

Shinji bashed their heads together, shaking. “...Meet me in my room when we get home. I have something I want to tell you.”

One thing about Akihiko Sanada was that he was reliable. If he said he would do something, he would do it. So when Aki promised he’d be there, Shinji knew he would.

If only the circumstances were better.

THE GIRLS ARE FIGHTING

shinji distancing himself from aki so he doesnt get hurt. he feels like hes doing it for aki's sake but it's really just hurting him. aki will do anything to protect him but shinji doesnt want him to get hurt. he doesnt want anyone to get hurt because of him again. he doesnt want aki to die because of him. more guilt and blood on his hands. also them both having a short temper... everything just escalates between them and they just. bounce off each other. aki protects shinji, shinji stays away from aki, aki confronts him, shinji gets angry, aki gets angry, and aki keeps his promises.

[punisheye]

How do you feel about the blonde Vash?

"I think no matter what fuckin' universe that guy comes from, he's always gonna have a knack for pissin' me off." And he mutters something that sounds suspiciously like he's lucky he's cute, before swiftly moving on.

Wolfwood's teeth catch on his bottom lip, worrying away until the skin is wet and slightly flushed. Thinking, hard, because there's a lot to say and he'd also rather not say everything.

"I want him t'be selfish," he says, then makes a face and tries again: "Well, he already is, whether he thinks so or not. I mean, wish he'd focus on himself sometimes. Always worryin' over other people and actin' like he's always gotta be useful... get a grip. Tryin' so hard to save everyone he won't even save himself.

"Livin' like that for so long's gotta be exhaustin', right? Livin' so long and he still don't know how the world works. Surprised he hasn't snapped, anyone else would.

"It still don't make sense to me how he could forgive me after... what happened. How he was glad that shadow was safe. Still makes me a li'l dizzy when I remember how easily he accepted him. I think he shoulda been angrier."

The forgiveness blindsided him. No wonder he cried.

"Anyway, I wanna see him eat n'laugh n'smile a real smile. He's got a nice smile when he means it, just like Spikey does."

His expression turns into one of embarrassment almost instantly. He awkwardly scratches one of his ears, which is feeling a little bit warm.

"He really messes with my head sometimes. Don't get the wrong idea— he's... my friend. Just a weird idiot, too. And I don't want him to think he's gotta take on everything by himself. Spikey does that shit. Drives me crazy. Both of 'em do."

It's said with a bit of fondness there, at the end.

[eiirisworkshop]

Everything Changes

A Brokeback Mountain fanfiction Complete fic available to read on Ao3 here.

~

Chapter 1: In Which Junior Unwittingly Starts a Journey

Junior stood in the kitchen helping her mother clean up from dinner. A thought crossed her mind and she voiced it. "Hey, Mama? You think Daddy's ever gonna remarry?"

Alma paused in washing a plate, then resumed slowly. "No, I don't think so. I asked him once an' he said, you know, once burned."

Junior closed the cabinet she'd been putting glasses in. "That's too bad."

Alma looked at her daughter. "Why? D'you want a stepmother?" She didn't sound accusing, just incredulous.

"No, that's not what I mean." Junior faced her mother. "It's just, you've got Bill and"—she shrugged and shook her head—"I don't like to think a Daddy bein' alone."

Alma turned back to the sink a little too quickly for the motion to be entirely natural. "I don't think you need to be worryin' about that."

Junior blinked, not oblivious to her mother's slightly odd behavior and tone. She shifted her weight more to one foot. "Mama?"

"You just don't need to worry about that, Junior."

"Mama, if you mean that blonde woman he was seein', I don't think there's anything to that anymore."

"I'm not sure I know he was seeing any blonde woman." Alma shut the water off with ore vigor than was strictly necessary. "And it doesn't matter if he has been or is or is not. You don't need to worry about him being alone."

Something in her mother's voice caught Junior's attention: not quite an edge—a dulled edge maybe, or the memory, like a scar, of an edge that had once been sharp, but now was worn down. It sounded to Junior like it had been an edge of resentment. She stood there a long moment, watching her mother dry dishes, thinking: what could have hurt her mother? What might her mother have resented, but was now long enough passed for her to pretend to have forgotten? After the long moment was gone and she'd thought of no specific answer, Junior quietly asked, "What aren't you saying?"

"What are you talking about?"

"There's somethin' you're not sayin' here, somethin' you ain't happy about. I can tell, Mama." When her mother said nothing, Junior chewed her lip and, before she could think better of it, asked after the one thing she had thought of that might have bothered Alma the way she seemed bothered, even though Junior didn't see how it could be right. "Did Daddy cheat?"

"What?" Alma whirled to face her daughter. "Junior what are you—?"

"I want to know the truth. I want to know why I shouldn't worry about my Daddy being alone. Has he got some secret girlfriend? And I wanna know what happened anyway! All I've ever been told is 'oh, well, things just didn't work out.' But I remember you crying and Daddy yelling, and I knew I wasn't being told half of the truth and I know the same thing now." She took a deep breath. "I worry about Daddy and the way you're telling me not to isn't helping."

"Junior!" Junior looked away. Her mother sighed. "We didn't tell you things because you were much too young and, really, it comes down to things just didn't work out."

"Well, what about now? Why shouldn't I worry about Daddy? I'm old enough to know my father isn't a super hero, he has faults just like everybody. Did he cheat? Has he got a secret girlfriend?"

"He hasn't got a secret girlfriend. Now drop it."

Junior crossed her arms. "I notice you're not sayin' he didn't cheat."

"I said drop it."

"I want to know!"

"You don't need to know!"

"By that logic, I might as well stop going to school."

"Junior."

"Well? I just wanna know a little bit of the truth. From this conversation so far, I'm pretty well convinced that he probably did cheat. I'm not mad if he did, even if maybe I should be. I don't know. But I also can't think how that can be true. He only ever went to work or went fishing. He never had any friends, really, so he couldn't a been fooling around with some friend a his's wife. The one friend I remember him having, he an' his family are down in Texas. I don't think Daddy ever even met his wife."

Alma tossed her hair in frustration. "Maybe he didn't need nobody's wife to fool around with."

"What's that mean?"

Alma shook her head. "It doesn't matter."

"Mama."

"Listen," Alma put her hands on her daughter's shoulders and took a deep breath, "you're right. There is something I'm not saying and it's not just that I don't want to. I can't tell you."

"Why not?" Junior met her mother's eyes.

Alma bit her lip. "It's not my secret."

"What d'you—"

Alma turned back to the last of the dishes. "This conversation is over."

Junior hesitated, then said, "Fine," and marched off to her room ignoring the looks cast her way by her sister, stepfather, and young half-brother.

[a-musing-mixologist]

law slips on killer's lap soundlessly, it's not the first time he does so in the middle of the night when the thoughts weigh too heavy on him and his mind refuses to give him a blissful slumber. golden eyes look over the many plants scarred between small pieces ready to prepare smaller models that one day would aim to cause destruction. "if you wouldn't rely on weapons, what would you like to build? i mean, let's say you could travel freely and did not have to think of fighting, just go and explode and do whatever comes to mind."

the surgeon thinks of the ship they are sailing on, all the little things scarred across it that make every day much easier. kid's mind is full of wonders and there is so much he could imagine for the captain to come up with besides those weapons that one day will take down those who dared to rip those they loved from them.

"i'll give you an example from my perspective, i'd love to focus on research. just take as much time as i want while then just practicing as a simple doctor who does not always rely on devil fruit. i know, i use it so naturally often at this point but just taking care of silly cuts or tell you that your headache is caused by the lack of sleep."

his eyes finally close as he rests his head against the shoulder, a soft sigh leaving his lips. "something like that ... mh where killer just worries about what to make for dinner."

He slips his arms around the smaller man, chin resting against his shoulder. Sleepy Law is an interesting character, prone to mumbled ramblings and soft cuddles. Out of all of them he still seems to have the most trouble sleeping, though Killer has noticed he at least stays put when all three of them are tangled together in bed. Tonight though, Kid's up late working on yet another idea, leaving him a quiet moment to get some reading done. At least until the surgeon's arrival.

He sets the book down, humming thoughtfully. To travel freely, with no concern for battle. It's funny, really. Pirates are all about freedom, but of course it comes with a price. There's always the need to pull out a blade, either for protection from others seeking their own version of freedom, or those looking to limit it in the name of the World Government. "Heh. I could see that for ya. Think you'd settle someplace, or keep on sailin'? Like, a travelling doc?" He wonders if, once this adventure is over, Law will have that chance.

"Worryin' about jus' dinner might be nice fer a bit, but I think it'd get pretty boring, fwahaha!" He threads his fingers into Law's hair as he considers. "Well, maybe I'd learn t' cook proper, though dunno if I've got th' patience fer culinary school." He sighs. "Can't imagine ever settlin' down though, don't think it suits me, Kid, or any o' this lot. Probably just keep on sailin', explorin' th' world. Kid thinks that not even th' World Government really knows every island that exists. But even if everything is all mapped, it doesn't really make it any less interestin' t' visit places ya never been before. I think it'd be fun just t' see what's out there with my own eyes. As fer Kid, well, I don't think he'll ever stop buildin' things, weapons or not. He'll keep right on tryin' t' create whatever that mind of his comes up with! Maybe he'll make stuff t' help people instead. Or maybe jus'... art fer art's sake."

[ducknotinarow]

[SF Rasey]

The bleeding had stopped, thankfully, but the ache was still deep in his side. Though he had told Raph to 'stop giving him that look', and trying to stop him from worrying, he was silently thankful that they had helped him out. It felt good to lay down, not keep any pressure on himself, and be taken care of - despite his light protest. It's just who Casey was, someone that didn't care about his wellbeing, and rarely let down his walls long enough for someone to help...

Then again, Raphael wasn't just any old somebody now, was he?

No, course he wasn't. He was his boyfriend, his rock, his soulmate. The one that dragged him back cause he knew he was too stupid and stubborn to not nearly let himself get killed. The one Casey trusted with his life, with everything, and in turn, Raph trusted him back. That's why he merely stared up at Raph with a soft gaze, frowning at the tremble in their voice, the crack in their words.

Oh Raph...

Slowly, Casey lifts his arm, the one on his good side, moving to gently cup Raph's cheek - he's glad they hadn't moved away. Dragging his thumb across their skin, Casey offers a smile, warm and loving,

"Ya doin' more than enough Raph," Casey tells him, "If ya weren't, you and the guys woulda gave up a long time ago, quit this stupid game, but you don't - ya keep gettin' back up, yous keep goin'," He points out, "Raph, you're always lookin' out for everyone, includin' my dumbass, ya always goin' in to protect us without a thought," He goes on, "You're doin' a lot Raph, for all of us - your brothers, me, Master Splinter."

He manages a soft laugh at that, trying to act normal about this situation himself,

"Betcha right now, Master Splinter's watchin' all of ya an' thinkin', 'wow, I'm so proud of my kids - look at 'em fighting all these stupid games to save me'," He stares at them, before managing another laugh, "Okay maybe not exactly like that, but ya get what I mean right?"

Casey thinks they do, or at least, he hopes they do,

"The point I'm makin', shell head, is ya doin' more than 'nough, ya keepin' us safe, ya fightin' an' takin' care of us, an' soon, Master Splinter's gonna be back home with you and the guys, makin' that rice an' veggie dish you all like, wearin' that apron of his," He suppresses his chuckles just thinking about it, "Gettin' emotional over his Soaps, drinkin' that tea of his - things will be normal."

Despite the ache, Casey forced himself to move, using his other elbow to help prop and push himself up. He ignored the way he winced, how his aches got worse; safe to say, he wasn't going anywhere for a while. It was enough though, Casey managed to keep himself up, long enough to steal a warm kiss, letting lips linger for a moment before pulling away. Forehead press to their own,

"I promise, things gonna be normal soon," He tells them, "An' I promise to be more careful to, least, try to, heh, can't have you worryin' all the time - make ya scales grey."

Though reluctant, Casey allows himself to move back, practically collapsing back onto the cot with an audible and tired huff,

"Ya fightin' hard 'nough Raph," He tells them again, "More than enough, an' I promise, at the end'a this, it's all gonna be okay."

Moving slightly, carefully rolling onto his good side, Casey made sure there was enough room for the pair of them to, just about, fit on the cot he was currently using as a bed,

"Now uh, Casey Jones may be outta the ring for now, but I'll be back out there takin' down those foot-bozos an' puke-frogs b'fore ya know it," He smirks at his dumb names, "But uh, 'til then, how 'bout ya lie down with me an' let me take care of yous for now Raph - think ya coul' d' with the extra lovin'."

| Muse interaction continued from [here]

It was just so, so much. It was heavy but Raphael couldn't explain that there wasn't anything physical weighting him down but damn it felt like something was. He blamed it for why his movements grew slower. Why he could sweep out foes fast enough. Like he was stuck in syrup. Raphael felt short on breath even like there just wasn't enough air in his lungs.

Every time they came back to the lair either because they were sent back or too hurt to continue. It got worse. Seeing Casey all beat up didn't help either, it was more a reminder it was more than just the four of them dealing with this shit. Before his mind could spiral out though he felt something rest against the side of his face it took him a moment to sort of understand it was Casey's hand, drawing him back from that back corner of his mind no one else could go. Feeling Casey's hand on his cheek though, that felt nice as he leaned in against the palm of their hand. Soaking in Casey's touch. It helped, Casey just helped. Seeing their dumb face was enough. How their thumb stroked over the side of his face seemed to help ease things to retreat again or in the least got Raphael to snap out of the mind set he was in a moment ago. Looking at Casey as they offered him a smile.

The way their smile curved, almost matched the way Casey's eyes creased in the corners to go along with it. Focused on grey and yellow coloring in Casey's eyes. They had his attention with the single touch that he was leaning into. Soaking in the warmth that he just wished to soak in to.

"Ya doin' more than enough Raph,"

"Maybe," Raphael manages to argue just a bit in turn, slightly turning his face into Casey's hand. He wasn't so sure himself about if he was doing enough. If Raphael had been doing enough these fights would be done with sooner. If he could sweep their foes a bit better even. His head was starting to hurt from thinking so much about it. Mikey like to joke that smoke could be seen working out of his nose when he tried to think.

"If ya weren't, you and the guys woulda gave up a long time ago, quit this stupid game, but you don't - ya keep gettin' back up, yous keep goin',"

Raph doesn't speak up this time he lets Casey talk as he simply presses his face in against their hand. Which kind of help with the headache he was starting to get. Just seeking out the comfort he got from their touch alone. Raph felt like that was more what Mikey did. But he guessed the getting back up part was true. He had to keep getting up there was still a fight to be fought after all.

"Raph, you're always lookin' out for everyone, includin' my dumbass, ya always goin' in to protect us without a thought,"

That did get the turtle to peek out from the hiding place he turned Casey's hand into. Was that enough though?

"You're doin' a lot Raph, for all of us - your brothers, me, Master Splinter."

Bringing up Splinter was a bit of a sore spot in that moment, it was sort of all any of them were focused on right now trying to get him back. Bring him back home. They just wanted their Dad home. Despite them all being here it just didn't feel right returning home and not seeing him in his room. Hell even his things were gone, so one couldn't even pretend he hadn't be take away from them the way he was. It was such a simple thing Raphael just wanted his dad back home, wanted to sit in their room with him as they forced him to fold pieces of paper over and over again. Growing annoyed and crumpling them only for Splinters usual joke about making snowballs to be mentioned. When Casey laughs though? it brings Raph back once again.

"Betcha right now, Master Splinter's watchin' all of ya an' thinkin', 'wow, I'm so proud of my kids - look at 'em fighting all these stupid games to save me',"

Raphael slightly lifts a brow as he tilts his head a tad bit at what Casey says, another laughs works out from his boyfriend and it helps lighten the air Raphael swears by it. Whatever that heavy weight was pushing down on his shoulder was? It seemed to lessen just a little bit. Maybe that was crazy but he swears it's true. Raphael down pull away from Casey's hand and lower it back down now.

"Okay maybe not exactly like that, but ya get what I mean right?"

Raph offer a slight nod of his head to answer, yeah he got what they meant and well he hopes that's true. That Splinter at least knows how hard they are all trying? Casey's right, Raphael too comforted by the thought Casey offers to really focus on the fact this idiot was right about something for once. Splinter had to know they were doing everything in their power to save him right? That they aren't going to give up on him Splinter. Splinter knew that right? Maybe he was proud of them for still going even.

"The point I'm makin', shell head, is ya doin' more than 'nough, ya keepin' us safe, ya fightin' an' takin' care of us, an' soon, Master Splinter's gonna be back home with you and the guys, makin' that rice an' veggie dish you all like, wearin' that apron of his,"

Raph nods once more and breaths as Casey speaks thinking about it himself. First thing Raph thinks him and his brother might ask for is that very dish of Splinters.

"Gettin' emotional over his Soaps, drinkin' that tea of his - things will be normal."

Again the turtle manages to breath, the air didn't seem so thin anymore. Raphael hears the shift of Casey's weight on the cot as the idiot starts to move around. He narrows his eyes a little feeling that usual flicker of his temper at work as he grew annoyed. "Casey-" not able to fully scold the idiot of his when thier lips press in against his beak. The white of his eyes widen a little not expected the kiss. But he feels himself lax against Casey's warmth, it didn't last long though for Raph to melt into as he found Casey's forehead pressing in against his own. Slowly he let the clam that Casey seemed to bring to him settle as he close his eyes a moment. Just focusing on breathing in the moment, he swears there is the faintest whiff of rain.

"I promise, things gonna be normal soon,"

"Yeah" Raphael hopes for the same. He like to be able to tell Splinter about him and Casey after all.

"An' I promise to be more careful to, least, try to, heh, can't have you worryin' all the time - make ya scales grey."

"I can jus' kick ya ass for you if ya don' I know ya don' learn ya lesson 'ight away." Raph manges to say back at Casey, soon letting the slight smile that got from him slip as he watched Casey need to pull back. Near about collapsing on to the cot as they let out a tried breath. The pit of worry in his gut just twisted a bit as he set his hands to side of it for a better look at Casey. Seemed they were in even more pain than even the turtle was aware of. If that was too much,

"Ya fightin' hard 'nough Raph,"

Raph blinks behind his mask as looks at Casey letting the corner of his beak twitch back into a slight smile. Yeah that's the idiot for you was all he could think, despite Casey being hurt and tried he still focused on Raphael.

"More than enough, an' I promise, at the end'a this, it's all gonna be okay."

Casey soon moves working to roll on to his good side opening up the space beside him

Moving slightly, carefully rolling onto his good side, Casey made sure there was enough room for the pair of them to, just about, fit on the cot he was currently using as a bed, Raph offered a faint tilt of his head trying to understand what they were doing. Laying on their side can't be better than being on their back? Casey was pretty big too that just made less room for him. Tempted to just take hold of their shoulder and make them flip on to their front so it be even harder for them to move off the cot. Nearly ready to assume Casey was going to try and get up and leave. He knows Casey's gotta protect his home turf and such but he needed to rest and heal first. Or Casey was going to wind up worse than he already was.

"Now uh, Casey Jones may be outta the ring for now, but I'll be back out there takin' down those foot-bozos an' puke-frogs b'fore ya know it,"

Oh? So Casey dose know he needs to rest? maybe its less painful on his side? Raphael least glad they are listening to him. Raph breaths out a laugh over the nicknames Casey gave to the foot ninjas and punk frogs, especially the punk frogs. It was funny. Before he looked towards his own room, he was pretty sure he got a spare blanket in his room he should grab it for them so they can rest a bit better the cot was gonna be their bed for the night.

"But uh, 'til then, how 'bout ya lie down with me an' let me take care of yous for now Raph - think ya coul' d' with the extra lovin'."

Raphael faintly blushes at the suggestion, and freezes on the spot for a moment as he looks down. Oh that's why he moved he was trying to make space for Raph to lie with him. He fixes his beak into a tight annoyed frown over the whole needing extra love right now. No resort because from just them cupping his cheek, the kiss and pressing his forehead to his own? Casey was right again. Fuck twice in one night?

Raphael dose, however, move to lie down. Gonna need it with Casey's undoing streak right now. "Thibk ya hit ya head," he idly tosses out before he gets settled beside Casey.

For a moment, he hesitates to get closer but soon forgets it. Casey and tank down nearly a tank of a bot on his own. Scooting in closer, he simply moves in to rest in against Casey. Slipping an arm gently as he can around Casey's side as he simply presses his face in aginst Casey's broad full chest. He can hear the sound of their heart slwoly beating. It's better than the claiming sound of ocean waves at night kind of, like the steady pace of rain. Raphael didn't feel as heavy as he had been for so long. He felt like he could breath so much easier now, the pressure on his head seemed to lighten away even.

"Thanks" He speaks against Casey's chest in that moment. It was all he really could bring himself to say. The only word he could really speak at that moment but he turly meant it. Casey really did help him to feel just a bit better about this all. Being here for him to hold to to just like this even. It's all he needed, and it what Casey gave to him a moment to need excatly this.

"Hey Case?" He waits a moment as he mulls it over "Do ya really 'hink my scales can turn grey?"

[iwannawritelots]

Mortality

Originally written May 2022

Ship(s): Mammon X MC

(genderless MC)

(not requested)

Trigger/content warnings: talking about death I guess?

Headcanons/notes from the author: no headcanons are directly used here.

Brief Blurb: Mammon wants to be with MC forever and is thinking about ways to accomplish it.

It was fairly cold in the human world, and Mammon was not at all affected as he walked you down the street. “Why do I have ta wear these warm clothes? It’s not even that cold out.” You sighed and facepalmed with your spare hand, very tired of this complaint. “I mean, look, I know some humans think it’s weird when people walk around in tank tops and shorts for cold weather, but I’m sweatin’ my ass off.” He huffed, then stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, which you quickly corrected by pulling him off to the side.

“Mammon, babe,” you told him, “firstly, don’t stop in the middle of the sidewalk in the city. You should know that.”

“Oh…”

It was difficult to stay frustrated with him when he flustered and made his cute, embarrassed grin. “Secondly… it’s supposed to get really cold. I know you’re naturally a lot warmer since you’re a fallen angel, but odd looks are best avoided in the human world.”

“Ya say that like I haven’t ever been to it on my own…” he mumbled, fumbling with your hand.

Sighing, you watched him use your hand as a stim toy. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” You pulled him closer, then stood on your tip toes to kiss him. “I know you’ve been here millions of times without me. I just worry about you.”

Scoffing and biting back a smile, Mammon cupped your jaw. “Ya don’t have anything to worry about, darlin’. I’m a demon, remember?” You nodded, leaning into his touch slightly. “I… appreciate ya worryin’, though,” he admitted quietly, face flushing red.

“I just…” you sighed and closed your eyes. “I get really scared about drawing too much attention to ourselves.”

“Babe,” he chuckled and ran his fingers through your hair. “There ain’t a thing to worry about. I’m a big, scary demon. I don’t even have to go into demon form to frighten a human, y’know?”

Your face fell a little. “Yeah…”

“_____…? Why the long face?”

“Nothing,” you told him, averting your gaze a little. “Let’s get going, the store might close if we don’t hurry.”

“Shit, yeah.” Mammon pulled you back into the foot traffic, keeping you close to himself. Once you two managed to step into the store, you both pulled your face masks up. You then took his jacket off of his shoulders and draped it over an arm. “Thanks, babe…” he muttered shyly.

Despite taking the jacket off, you could tell he was still entirely too warm from the store’s heating. “I’m sorry, you’re probably miserable from the warmth.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry, _____.” He smiled, and despite only seeing it in his eyes, you felt relief wash over you. “Let’s get a cart.”

“No, we’ll buy too much if we get a cart.” You ignored his pout as you picked up a shopping basket. “This is my money, Mammon.”

“I-I know…” he mumbled, taking the basket from you before grasping your hand once more. “I’m sorry.”

“I never said you needed to be sorry,” you reassured him softly. “I’m not upset.”

You led him to the produce section, then reluctantly let go of his hand to inspect the various fruits and vegetables. “Why’re ya squeezin’ that thing?”

“To make sure it’s a good one.”

After processing what you said, he furrowed his eyebrows and stared intensely at some of the fruit in front of him. He seemed puzzled, and you couldn’t help but giggle. “Do you not check if produce is good before you buy it, babe?”

“W-Well… Lucif—…” he stopped himself, glancing around with only his eyes before continuing. “Luci never really has me buy the groceries, and when I tag along I don’t really pay much attention to whoever is actually doing the shoppin’. I just kinda help carry stuff.”

“Didn’t you help Barbatos like, a week ago?” you chuckled, placing some of the good foods in the basket. “I know he inspects everything.”

Mammon pouted at you. “I told ya I ain’t payin’ attention when I help. I jus’ know if it looks weird then I shouldn’t eat it.”

You gave him a gentle smile. “I’m sorry, I’m only teasing, Mammoney.” You very gently placed a hand on the small of his back, then led him to a different area of the store. “You’re just older than me, so I assume you know stuff like that.”

“Th-That’s fair…” He felt butterflies in his stomach from your touch. You were so gentle with him…

“Anyways,” you began, looking at the shelves, “do you still want popcorn for movies tonight?”

Mammon nodded. “Mmhm. Could we get those tiny rainbow chocolates to put in it?”

“You mean M&Ms?”

He bounced on his heels excitedly. “Yeah! Those!”

“Of course, baby.” You grabbed the popcorn and added M&Ms to the list on your phone. “Most of what we still need is in the next aisle.” He followed you close behind, not wanting to get lost or distracted by something. It was a little weird that he wasn’t talking very much. Usually, he couldn’t stop talking while you two were doing stuff alone.

By the time you two had finished shopping and paid, he hadn’t said very much. You were both carrying bags in both hands, and he was absolutely miserable with the jacket back on as well. When you got home, he instantly set the bags down and changed into something more comfortable. You didn’t mind, knowing he would come back and help put things away.

Well, that’s what he usually did. You had put away the cold stuff, and he still hadn’t returned to help. “Mammon?” you called out. When you received no response, you abandoned your task to search for him. Once you reached your bedroom door, he was talking on the other side.

“Lucifer, I ain’t comin’ home…” You furrowed your eyebrows. “Please stop callin’…” His voice was shaky and distressed. If it weren’t for your confusion keeping you in place, you would have come into the room to comfort him. “I want to stay. Jus’ let me talk to _____ about it, please…? I don’t understand why you’re so upset with me…”

You slowly opened the door, and he startled. “Mammon…?”

He hung up on Lucifer, then turned to face you. “S-Sorry…” he mumbled, wiping a stray tear from his face. “I wasn’t tryna make ya put everythin’ away by yourself.”

“Is something wrong…?” you asked, cautiously approaching him. “Do you need to go home?”

“N-No…” Mammon pulled you into his arms a bit more forcefully than he intended. “No… I just… I want to stay here wit’cha… forever…”

“Mammon…?”

“L-Lucifer found out I was talkin’ to Lord Diavolo about… stayin’ in the human world.” He sniffled, and you could feel his hands trembling against your back and shoulders. “I jus’ wanted to make sure it would be fine before I said anythin’ about it to you… but…”

You waited for him to speak, but he seemed to lose his train of thought. “But…?”

“L-Lucifer also found out I was… considerin’… becomin’ mortal…”

You attempted to move, but he squeezed you in order to prevent it. “Mammon—”

“I-I jus’ suggested it ‘cause Lord Diavolo wanted ideas of how I could stay with ya. I m-mean, I would give up anythin’ to be wit’cha…” A muffled sob escaped him, and he burrowed into your hair. “It seems like the best option to me, but Lord Diavolo and Lucifer would rather I faked mortality until you… y-you…”

Carefully, you squished him close to yourself and rubbed his back. “Mammon, giving up immortality is huge.”

“I-I jus’ couldn’t stop thinkin’ about it while we were shoppin’. I want to b-be with ya forever. I d-don’t want ya to go away…” he muttered between small, harsh cries. “I have been alive so long and no one has been so kind to me, or gentle with me…”

“Mammon—”

“I-I can’t take it… I can’t… have a life without ya…” he mumbled, nuzzling into you and kissing your head. “We’ve been together so long now, I jus’ keep gettin’ anxious about it…”

You managed to push yourself away enough to look him in the face. “Mammon, that is a very big decision to make just for me.”

“I’ve been alive forever, it ain’t gonna make a difference…” he said quietly, taking one of his hands away from you to rub one of his eyes. A weak, tiny wail left him as he curled into himself. “I-I’m not set on it anyways. Faking mortality would be easy…”

“It sounded like you are pretty set on it, Mammon,” you stated as calmly as you could. “How long have you been thinking about this?”

“A-A couple months…” Mammon took a deep breath, trying to relax himself. “I just… humans… don’t always come back as an angel or demon… y-y’know? They don’t remember anythin’ when they do, either…” he sniveled and ran his fingers through his hair. “I-I mean, sure, ya could come back… but… b-but… we wouldn’t be together anymore…”

“Mammon…”

“I-I just get scared whenever I wanna talk to ya, because I know you’ll think I’m bein’ hasty…”

“Why wouldn’t you want me to become a demon before that can happen?”

Mammon made a half hearted chuckle. “I asked… it’s complicated…”

“Why do you want us to be here? I like the Devildom,” you told him gently.

“I-I want ya safe…”

You giggled a bit, petting his hair. “What makes you think I’m safe here? Humans are always in conflict somewhere. You would be in danger if you were mortal, especially because of…” you trailed off, sighing. “We’d probably be safer in the Devildom.”

Sniffling and shaking his head, Mammon insisted, “You’d be unhappy livin’ there. It’s always dark, ‘n’ you’d probably have to do R.A.D. forever, unless Lord Diavolo could get us permission for inter realm marriage…”

“Didn’t he do that for Solomon and Asmodeus?”

“Y-Yes, but… but Solomon is immortal, and a prominent figure in the human realm…”

You gently cupped his cheeks and brushed his tears away with your thumbs. “Mammoney…?”

He sniffled and choked on sobs, squeezing his eyes shut. “I-I just… I love ya so much, _____… I c-can’t imagine life without ya anymore…” He carefully grabbed your wrists, but didn’t move your hands. “I-I don’t want ya to die… I want you…”

You hushed him and rubbed his cheeks with your thumbs once more, keeping the gesture going after he seemed to relax from it. “Mammon, we have time to think about this. We can work it out.”

“I-I’m sorry… I-I’m sorry, treasure…” he muttered, sniffling and squishing your wrists ever so slightly in his hands. “I-I’m sorry… please… j-just pretend I never brought it up…”

“Why don’t we just… put a pin in it? Come back to it later, I mean.” He opened his eyes slightly to gaze at your face, still crying. “Would that be okay? We don’t have to talk about it right now. We have time.”

Nodding and leaning into your hands, Mammon muttered, “Please…”

reblog divider

[nightmaretherabbit]

The Big Day (Gala and Salvador's wedding/Applesauce wedding day)

"You ready mom?" Goldie asked her mother while she helped her get into her wedding dress.

"Of course I am. I'm going to marry my true love." Goldie finished tying up her mom's dress.

"So how do I look?" Gala did a little twirl,

"You look so amazing mom. I'm so happy for you."

Gala gave Goldie a kiss on the forehead.

"Go get your dress on. The wedding will be in an hour or so."

"Oh! Right! " Goldie went to get her dress.

"What if she hates it?!" Salvador said as he paced around the room.Unlike Gala who was extremely excited and calm about the wedding, Salvador's anxiety was through the roof.

"She's gonna like it. She loves you. Now hold still so I can tie your bowtie!" Silverworth grabbed Salvador's wrist and yanked him back to where he was supposed to be standing.

"Yeah my mom loves you. She's gonna love you no matter what you wear!" Exclaimed Mac.

"Yeah, there's nothing to worry about." Added Smith.

"But what if this isn't good enough for her. Everything has to be perfect." Salvador was alarmed.

Silverworth finished tying Salvador's bowtie, then he grabbed his shoulders.

"Look at me Salvador! She will love it! She will be happy! She will like the wedding! And she wants to marry you!"

Salvador then closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "You're right. I'm stressing over nothing."

"Just say what I always say. 'I ain't to worried bout it.' It really helps." Cuphead and Mugman just came into the room. Mugman was wearing a nice tuxedo. And Cuphead was wearing a beautiful flower girl dress.

"Wow, Cupsy. You look amazing." Mac was blushing a little at the sight of his boyfriend.

"Same to you, Mac!" Cuphead gave his boyfriend a big smile. Mac's face turned an even darker shade of red.

Mugman looked at his brother and then said;

"Cuphead you better not mess up this wedding."

"Don't sweat it Mugsy. Also I'm the not one you should be worryin bout."

"Wait who should I be worrying about?"

"Chalice."

"Oh you're right..."

Gala was arm in arm with her father. Walking down the aisle after Cuphead had scattered beautiful flowers around the wedding hall.

"Glad you're getting married to a good man." Braeburn whispered to Gala as before she got up on the altar to stand next to Salvador. Gala gave her dad a big smile then turned to her red faced groom.

Salvador was extremely nervous, Gala looked stunning and he wondered if he looked ok enough.

Gala on the other hand was so excited. She has been waiting for this day since the moment Salvador proposed to her.

The Bishop from the king's castle was the wedding officiant. "Alright everyone take your seats."

"Today we are here for the wedding of Gala Kingston and Salvador Chroma."

Cuphead looked at Bubbly who was the ring bearer and realized the rings were missing. He turned to his brother, "Mugman." Whispered

"What Cuphead?" Mugman whispered back to his twin.

"The rings are missing Mugsy!"

"What?!" Mugman looked over at Bubbly and saw the rings were missing. Both boys wondered who could have taken the rings then it dawned on them.

"Chalice!" The two of them whispered in sync.

While the boys were talking about the missing rings most of the wedding was finished,

"Where did the rings go?" The Bishop asked Bubbly.

"they were just here a second ago! I swear!" Bubbly said in a panicked tone.

Gala got down to Bubbly's eye level and put her hand on her shoulder.

"It's ok, it's not your fault." She wiped tears from Bubbly's eyes.

"Uh Miss Gala... I think I know who took the rings..." Mugman said twiddling his thumbs.

"Who do you think it was?" She tilted her head.

"Chalice. I think she took them."

Chalice came into the hall that moment

"Sure right! And I hid em too."

"Why would you do that?!" Mugman was about to strangle the girl.

"Well I want the Bride and the Groom to go find em, it'll help their relationship."

Before Mugman could yell at Chalice Gala interrupted him.

"That sounds like a fun idea! Come on Salvador!" She grabbed Salvador's arm and they hurried outside.

Everyone else followed them, because they wanted to see if the couple would find the rings and get married or if they would fail.

Gala and Salvador finally found the rings as the sun started to set.

They stood on the old outdoor alter and said their vows for the second time, put their rings on.

"You may now kiss the Bride." Announced the Bishop.

Gala and Salvador then kissed, now they were officially married.

After they kissed Salvador picked up his lovely Bride and spun around with her.

They had one more kiss on the alter before the sun completely set.

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@firecurls-27 @zibiscusloon @hey-imma-fangirl @marshmallow-biscuit-blog @cuphead-fans @coffee-cuphead @blackf10wer25 @cephalopvnk @tireddicehead @oye-milka @fanoffandoms23 @generalfoxy21 @scropio09

(hope y'all like it. Also hope I wrote it ok-)

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

alignment - k. bakugou

—/—

You run warm, you always do.

You blister the skin of his fingers, leave him rubbing the pads together- trying to replicate what the fire beneath your skin feels like.

And Bakugou will never say it out loud, not for all the fame and fortune and glory in the world, but he likes the way you make him itch. He likes the way bugs crawl up his arms at your breath against his collarbone. The way he always feels some raw, giddy thing clogging up his throat.

So he races to shuck off his uniform, rushes in the shower. All but trips over himself putting on a pair of boxers. He’s clean now, and he knows you much prefer him clean, but it’s been 3 entire weeks and Bakugou kind of wishes he could skip some of those steps.

You’re asleep when he finally sees you. Face pressed against his side of the bed, nuzzling into his pillow. Suddenly that raw thing stopping up his throat threatens to break.

He brings you in, a gently as he can. One hand at the base of your spine, pressing you against his chest as he lies down. The other cradles the back of your head, squirming until he can feel your breath just under his ear (where it should be). His pillow smells distinctly of you and Bakugou feels some integral part of his world realigning.

He feels you shift beneath his fingers. Just minutely. Just barely.

“Say a goddamn thing.” He warns into the dark. “I’ll get up right now.”

You smile against his neck. Wrap your arms around his broad back. “Mhm. I know. Mission go okay?”

“No. ‘m fine though.”

He feels his stomach go a little funny at the way you pull him even closer then. At the way you pet gently at his hair, soothing at the wisps of blonde just behind his ear.

“Oh, okay.” You sigh, and he can feel it against his neck. “So we’ll talk about it in the morning then.”

“‘m not talkin’ about shit.”

You just huff a laugh at that, and it feels like he’s falling through the Earth. The mission really had shaken him, regardless of what he refused to say, and something about the weight of you in his arms suddenly feels like everything - like the summation of all his sweat. Like the totality of all the raw power pooling in his palms, and what it means to finally love something more than the tingling in those fingertips.

He’d give it all up. Swears he would if you just asked - but you never do. You just kiss him. On the lips when he leaves, and on the forehead when he returns.

He feels it now too - that featherlight kiss against his forehead. You’re careful, never too much pressure.

Sometimes, when’s he tucked away in yet another too-cold corner of the world, Bakugou will touch his own forehead. Just two fingers against the center of his temple, for only a moment. It never feels the same. Not quite right, too much pressure; but he’s come to think of it as his good luck charm. Something to remind him to make it back home safely, no matter what the mission is.

“Missed you.” You’re blinking away some watery, tight thing, clearing your throat. “Felt like forever this time.”

He agrees. Can feel the full force of that agreement clogging up his own throat, but he’ll never let it tumble out. So he just scoffs, pinches lightly at the back of your leg that’s resting across him.

“Brat.” He mumbles against the crown of your head. Hopes you can’t feel the way his lip threatens to quiver. “Learn to be patient. I always fuckin’ come back, don’t I?”

“You do.”

“Mhm, so stop worryin’ so much.”

Moments like these, he wishes he could be a little softer. That he could offer you the “I missed you too” that you so obviously deserve. But he can’t. He tries, tries so hard, he swears he does, but the words never come out right.

“I’ll stop worrying if you will.” You say, and there’s some tiny, playful lilt that has his stomach filling up with dread. “Speaking of, Midoriya is such a sweet-heart, you know? Really kind about checking up on me these past few weeks.”

“Is he now?”

“Yeah. But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

“Nope.”

You pinch his leg, and Bakugou feels his chest go molten. He thinks that you’re similar. That you match. It warms him all the way up inside.

The room goes quiet, and he lets you guide his head until he’s looking right into your eyes. You don’t say anything, but sometimes he likes this part the most. When all is said and done and you’re still looking back at him. It makes him feel like he’d finally done it. Like he’d finally completed whatever stressful, worrying task was still hanging over his head. Like he’d finally come home.

“Lets sleep.” You finally offer, voice a whisper. “You know, so you can wake up early? Catch the sunrise?”

There’s light filtering through the blinds. A halo around your face. Orange just beginning to filter through the white slats of the blinds.

The sun is already rising and Bakugou thinks he could never love anything but you ever again.

“Sounds good.” He bites his lip, looks away. “Almost perfect.”

“Almost?”

“You gotta wake up too.”

You squeal something happy, and he lays his hand over your mouth; unable to stomach the way such sounds always make his brain fuzz over.

You’re warm beneath his fingertips once more, and all at once everything is as it should be. That integral axis realigned.

—/—

lmaooooo wrote that hc list n now i cant stop thinkin bout pro-hero!bakugou,,,, literally so down bad rn dhmu 😩😩

actually jk pls do hmu bc i miss talkin to y’all🥰

[humancomedy]

Human Comedy: Tragedy - 11

Mika: Whew... 'm pooped, it feels like my legs are gonna give way...

Content Warning!

Mentions of familicide, child abuse and suicide within.

Location: Fruits Parlour

Time: Nighttime of that day

Mika: Whew... 'm pooped, it feels like my legs are gonna give way...

But in the end, everyone seems like they had lotsa fun at the live... I think we did a right good job.

Both old and new fans came together to support us.

'm real grateful for the fact that Valkyrie is so loved... At first I was pretty worried 'bout what was gonna happen to us, but I reckon I can rest easy now.

I s'pose it's to be expected that Oshi-san can resolve everything with a single tongue-lashin'.

I'll never be able t'do that. All I could do was get all up in a tizzy worryin' 'bout what to do~♪

Yer amazing, Oshi-san... Ya planned fer everythin', didn't ya? And ya chose the perfect timing to yell at everyone, right?

One second sooner or later and ya might've caused a real riot.

Shu: Hm? I simply raised my voice because the riffraff was infuriating. They were causing a commotion even after I had begun to sing.

Mika: Ah, so it really was just yer temper flarin' up?! Uwah... We're real lucky that things worked out, then! We'd be in right trouble if it hadn't, y'know?

Shu: Hmph... You're simply easily startled, much like a small animal. Carry yourself with more dignity.

Seeing you behave in such a manner is unsightly, and you'll be ridiculed for it.

Perhaps it may come as a surprise to you, but... As long as one speaks with confidence and conviction, the asinine masses will believe all manner of nonsense.

Should you persist in your beliefs, and push forward to make your own path... None shall venture to impede you, you understand?

You're much too concerned about others' opinions, Kagehira. I'd rather you be more unabashed.

Mika: Ahaha... I'd say yer too unabashed, Oshi-san. Me bein' all reserved keeps things balanced between us.

Shu: Perhaps... But good grief, I am truly exhausted.

The thought that this could be our last performance is disheartening, after all. I was gripped by anxiety last night, and could do little more than drift in and out of sleep.

Mika: Wait, ya mean even you get anxious, Oshi-san?

Shu: Hmph... I've kept it a secret from you all this time, but truth be told, I'm quite the coward.

But never mind that. Have some fruit, Kagehira. The adrenaline coursing through you may be staying your appetite, but surely your body requires the nutrients.

Mika: Gotcha, I'll dig right in~♪ Kinda feels like we always end up at this fruit stall after lives, don't we?

Shu: It's a fruits parlour. I've been fond of this chain since the time Nito was with us...

Besides, fruits are excellent since they are not only rich in water content and nutrients, but are easy and pleasant to eat.

You are partial to fruits as well, no? Much of the candy you so enjoy eating is strawberry or melon flavoured.

Mika: Ngah~ It's fine when it's candy, but the actual fruit feels real weird in my mouth, 'specially when it's so high quality...

Like, it feels kinda wasted on me...

Shu: I have no idea what you mean by that. Frankly, despite you having been by my side for all of this year, you've remained as an absolute enigma to me.

...Kagehira. I've been thinking extensively about the conversation we had the other day.

Mika: Uh, um? I ain't quite sure which one ya mean, I'm a right idiot an' all so I may have up and forgotten about it...?

Shu: The conversation about whether human beings possess the ability to attain the ideal form they should strive for.

In short, I think they do.

Mika: ......

Shu: The situations you mentioned, such as parents who beat and kill their children, and children who, for other trivial reasons, kill their parents...

Whether those who engage in such vulgar and iniquitous acts will ever be able to attain the beauty of an ideal being, and...

Whether we can even consider them to be of any value on this earth.

Mika: Uh, Oshi-san... Back then, I was just feelin' a lil' strange. I don't rightly know what made me say that kinda stuff, but there ain't no need to think so much 'bout it, yeah?

Shu: On the contrary. Precisely because it was something you said in the spur of the moment, it has brought your true colours to light.

You tend to avoid answering things outright, but that thought had been buried somewhere deep inside of you, no?

Kagehira. I think you've made a fundamental misunderstanding here.

The reason I exalt humans is not simply for being human. What I love is art, and art alone.

I see value in humans because they are the only beings known to be capable of producing art.

Beasts, you see, are incapable of such. That is what causes them to hold, at least to me, very little worth in comparison to humans.

You're aware of what sets humans apart from beasts, yes? Though this is a generalisation, humans have reason—that which allows us to suppress our wild instincts.

In the end, that may be the only definitive difference between us and them.

Art is but a product of reason.

It exists in a separate vein from undertakings such as eating, sleeping, reproducing and surviving for the preservation of our species, which are simply products of the information coded in our genes.

Even without drawing, even without singing, humans can continue to live without issue. Life is something maintained by eating, sleeping, gaining comrades and ensuring your own safety.

Art is not something humans require to live. Thus, we can call it a product of reason—or perhaps even a product of our humanity.

So then, what exactly is "humanity"? As you have previously said with great disdain, it is indeed the subject of much glorification in fiction.

Society dictates that we all ought to hold hands and get along, work diligently and reap the rewards of our labour.

They say everyone should live freely, doing whatever their hearts desire...

Whether it be taking down your enemies, fulfilling your dreams, or loving another.

This is wherein the error lies. Each of these things are simply products of our instincts.

Why do we love others...? Family, friends, lovers? The simple fact is that it facilitates our survival—the continuation of our species.

Increasing the number of people we can mutually love serves to protect us from external threats. Since that protection also facilitates the continuation of our lives, it elevates our survival rate.

That in turn allows for progeneration and proliferation.

In accordance with our genetic makeup—in other words, our instincts—those are simply ideal living conditions.

Love, dreams, justice, effort, friendship, victory...

Our stories sing their praises and extol them, but such concepts do not constitute humanity.

Humanity is, for example, the will that one requires to kill that which they love deeply.

An irrational, implausible action that defies the laws written in our DNA. Absolutely meaningless, moronic behaviour.

Other times, it is the will one has when, all the while knowing their continued existence would clearly benefit mankind and its future...

They instead choose to sacrifice themselves for some worthless nobody.

The free will to make such foolish decisions... That is what constitutes humanity.

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[tekehu]

WIP DAY

i was tagged by @aartyom and @arklay to do this (on wednesday) but i forgot and didn’t have anything new until now anyway, but now that i do so thank you two sm mwah ♡ not tagging anyone because i feel like you all did this, BUT if you haven’t, i tag YOU! 👇

alcohol mention. currently finally working on my pillars fic again after like, a year, hee hee

She’d been submerged into her realm only once.

She was standing at the rear, one hand holding onto the railing despite The Defiant swaying gently beneath her feet.

Echoing from the deck behind her, lively shouts and loud chatter stoked by alcohol and high morale reached her ears. Her own bottle was half-empty, its content sloshing against the dark glass as she twirled it around with her free hand, staring absent-mindedly out onto the open sea. She didn't particularly like it; although the spicy flavour tickled her tongue it was still too sweet, and it made her eyes heavy and limbs tired.

“It’ll help with all that worryin’ you do, Cap’n”, Serafen had told her, smiling, yet his eyes had been serious, “for one evenin’ at least.”

He hadn’t been wrong, exactly. She simply didn’t know if she preferred this alcohol-induced melancholy over her sober worries. At least the things she thought about then were still in the future, had yet to be happening, but now? Now she’s thinking about what was and what is, what can no longer be changed, things she’d been thinking about even before all this, and things that all this had brought upon her, too.

Like the ache that pulled at her near the live, green stone. Like the foreign emotions that sometimes seized her, letting her know of another lost soul being close. Like the lightheadedness that spread into her very bone, the chiming of a bell, and the unkind dismissal after nothing but fruitless arguments among the gods.

“The crew needs it”, her first mate had told her, after suggesting a feast to lighten the mood among ‘all this doom-and-gloom’, and, after regarding her in silence for a moment, had added, “you do, too.”

What she needed was to vanish from the planet’s surface for a while, to forget about everything and everyone to forget about her. Edér knew this, but all he could offer was something mortals could achieve, and she was thankful for it, anyway.