#U will here me say 'oh my little bones' multiple times a day

[debbeh]

can u give me a guide to the six idiots :33 like maybe with a picture of them n their names n who they play in the Big Three shows :33 pwetty peesse :33

UM YES!?

ok, you saw me earlier trying to format all the images so it's gonna be mostly my (ehhhh) descriptions of the characters and you gotta guess what they look like 😈

Ben Willbond

Yonderland:

Elder Vex (above): the one who says Deb-beh and has the coziest looking outfit I NEED IT RN PLZ and the Tom Cardy- esque hair and earring

Nick: the stick. Grumpy all the time cuz he's a stick >:(. Is also a portal between dimensions but whatevs

Horrible Histories

Mike Peabody :historical news reporter that wishes he were anywhere but here rn

King Henry, Alexander the Great: SkINy MaNdRiA, excellent hair, sniffed a guy

Ghosts

The captain: AKA James, makes a lotta noises, if you ever hear me going weeeahhhhhuuuueeeaaaaaahhhh, I'm referencing him, the gay one<3

Martha Howe-Douglas!

Yonderland!!

Debbie.

Debbie's evil twin sister (bossy boobs)

I just googled it: Rita, the Negatus simp AKA us, the demon that looks like how female animals are protrayed in Barbie movies

Horrible Histories!!!

Boudica (look up the song, it's rlly good), Cleopatra, every female historical figure

Pirate lady....<33333

Ghosts!

Lady Button (present day): Old disgruntled lady that pouts all the time and falls out of windows

Lady Button (flashback)

Mathew Baynton!!!

Yonderland!!!

Oracle: weird blue blob guy, Nigel, Darling

Nanny la roo: NUM NUMS!!!! - nanny that is also a kangaroo

Admiral Anous: Voldemort mf I hate him bc he hates Negatus>:(

Elder Choop: Croissant hair mf, says, "IDK WHY DON'T WE ASK UR MUM??"

Le Fox: French

THE BIRRDDDDD: AKA Thomas Payne, Batman but cooler

Oh yeah, and Elf: the elf shaped one, full name: Grintallin Gobscrew Crotell Fashanu F’naw Goplatz Holla-Holla, has multiple wives apparently and is in debt to the mob

Horible Histories (look all of them up, they are all hot)

Dick Turpin: play the song >:333, shot not one but two men dead!

D.I. Bones: the whakkus bonkkused

King Charles II: absolute party-er

Ghosts

Thomas Thorne, shot, dead! Absolute poetic simp for Allison, drowned himself in the lake ;( -cannot drown-

Jim Howik!!!

Yonderland

Elder Pressley: looks like Elvis, eats christmas tree ornaments

Crone: A sLaPper *wink wink*, has apparently gotten with everyone, goes eeeerrrrrrrrrrr all the time- sounds like a doorhinge, she is amazing

Neil: lhe most normal of the demons probably

Horrible Histories

A SHOUTY MAN!!! :does all the infomercials, will try to sell you piss

King George VI (above) : "oh yesss, dad's dead, I'm king..."

King Richard III: a sweet little guy<3 -according to the song, get's attacked by whasp

Ghosts

Pat Butcher: Greatest DJ in the AAARRREEEEEUHHHHH, killed by a child, AKA Pete in the American version

Larry Rickard

Yonderland

Detective Mounteback: very dumb detective with very large hat

Elder Ho Tan: trans Icon, doesn't like loud noises, absolute baby<3

Sue: above, the lady with the gun from the episode I showed you

Horrible Histories

Bob Hale: weather report, needs a hellicopter and a nice cup of tea, basically Bill Wurtz

Lol knight with shit on head, Aztec guy, George III friend who slays so hard; "ConGRatu-VerY-LaTiOns your... *MAgEsTy*"

Ghosts

Humphrey: keeps getting left on roofs and shelves, does NOT know French smh

Robin: 5,000 yo ghosts, once saw a cool butterfly, KNOWS FRENCH! Got stuck by lightning and now he can turn on lights

and finally... the moment you've been waiting for...

Simon Farnaby!!!

Yonderland!!!

Negatus<333: Silly guy try to take over Yonderland but is just a lil guy, has an evil lair, uses The Font of Orris (cauldron thing that lets you see everything) as a hot tub, get's bullied by all the other overlords, wears pjs with houses on them.

Elder Flowers!!!: Long hair and lack of shirt, vegetarian hippie of the group, wants his clothes to be veGONE, "all you need is love, brothers... oh, and food"

Horrible Histories

Emperor Caligula: the wakkus bonkkus guy

Marcus Licinius Crassus: Knockoff Bassline Junkie song

Ghosts:

Jullian!!!: Died conducting an affair with his secretary!!!, is eternally sorta drunk, does the hand thing, only ghost that can interact with stuff, makes silly EEERREREEEEE noise when he's trying to move something, his name is Trevor in the American version, sad when there's no porn on da TV ;(, has no pants BTW

Thanks for coming to my TEDTALK!!!

Lemme know if I missed anything!

#yonderland #bbcghosts #negatus #sixidiots #themthere #ghosts

[gaiuswrites]

Original Sin | Darksaber!Din

Pairing: Dark!Din x fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ older for the love of all things holy)

Word count: 3.4k~

Summary: Things change after Grogu leaves. People change. No one is exempt.

Warnings/tags: DUB CON?¿, masturbation (m and f), inappopriate use of darksaber, sex toy (...), Dark!Din, Dom!Din, sacrilegious references, really dark shit, i am so sorry

Update: This should go without saying, but as it turns out, it’s in need of being said: every word written in this fic is my own; any likeness to any other work is coincidence, regardless of how bizarre. I don’t mean to offend anyone or raise suspicion, as I am certainly not a plagiarist (literally couldn’t be even if I tried: I am equal parts too incompetent, too busy, and too lazy to steal from someone else. Fellow writers can attest, I’m an absolute garbage reader and fall behind on almost everyone’s work. There’s an embarrassing amount I haven’t read.) Please reach out to me personally if you have any concerns. I respect everyone here like you wouldn’t believe. Sending love to you all. Be well. ✨

Notes: When I go to hell (it really is only a matter of timing, and not so much a question of if anymore), this fic will rank number one on the list of reasons why I’m sent to my eternal timeout. This... I'm twisted. I have issues. God help us. Seriously, this is basically a horror show. I bow down to the Darksaber!Din content creators who came before me, and the original artwork that inspired me to write this— thank you for lighting this (descending, dirty) path. I HAVE TAGGED A FEW PEOPLE HERE WHO MAY OR MAY NOT BE INTERESTED but really— REALLY— there’s absolutely no pressure. Cheers friends x ( gif credit: @skyshipper )

Masterlist | Read it on Ao3!

The days stretch long like morning yawns—hours passing on creaky bones, slow and congealed inside the metal womb of the Crest.

It wasn’t always this way.

They used to be filled with pitter pattering— with wily antics and vanishing acts that could baffle even the most veteran of illusionists— with prying frogs from tiny, green hands and giggling as blocks and baubles floated through the hull. Laughter. There used to be laughter here.

But that was then. The child is gone now. The Razor Crest is quiet.

Time fills itself like this; there’s little for you to do now but wait. Wait for the dusk to blur into the dawn. Wait for your food to cook. Wait for the shower to warm. Wait for the parts you ordered to arrive at the port. Wait for Din to come back—to come home.

Home. You used to be so certain—you’d bite the head off anyone who questioned otherwise— but you’re not so sure this is home anymore. Its not that anything has changed. No, the galley, the carbonite pods, the cockpit, the deck—it’s all still here. The scuffed walls, the durasteel, the littered crates and packed arsenal. But—

It’s different. It feels different. Something is...

off.

You can’t quite put your finger on it. Its intangible, but it’s everywhere—like gas. Invisible to the naked eye, but encircling you all the same. Choking you.

Killing you.

There’s no good explanation for it. You feel eyes on you when there are none. You find yourself glancing over your shoulder, knowing full well you are alone. Something keeps snagging you, pulling at an unseen thread. The corners of your peripherals tugging at you. Beckoning.

Was that a shadow? No.

Is someone there? It’s just you.

There is a tickle at your ear - a constant - dancing along the shell of it. Wherever you go, it follows.

Home home home. It only feels like home when Din is there, safe and sound at your side. But even then, even Din—in all of his plated exterior—even Din has succumbed. Even Din has

changed.

The truth is, Grogu left and a part of Din left with him. There’s less of him now— more, too: there’s less where it matters, and there’s more where there shouldn’t be.

You don’t remember when it started—when he first disappeared. When the spark in him died, and he was reignited anew.

When this Other became.

On multiple occasions you’ve caught him murmuring into the bellied dark of the Crest with a bent spine, hunched over himself as if he’s shrinking—enveloping in in in as far as the beskar along his chest will allow him to cave. You can never pick up what he mutters, but you catch the sounds of his teeth and lips brushing together, hissing. It’s not Basic; you’d recognize it if it were. You don’t think its Mando’a either. It’s too sharp— too vile. There’s none of his language’s elegance in it.

“Did you say something?” You asked once, poking your head around the doorway, eyes resting on the shine of his helmet.

A beat—and slowly, he unfurled, rearing to his full height and like a sentinel he swiveled, pivoting to face you.

“No.”

Your throat bobbed. “Oh, I-I thought I heard-”

“Come here, mesh’la.”

And you did. You always do.

The darksaber appeared on his belt one day, shortly after the child went away. It came, only once, and there it stays. Indistinguishable - inseparable - there is no dismembering the two. It accompanies him in all things; when he pilots, when he hunts, when he eats. It sleeps by him.

By you, too.

Din has always been stoic—of scant words and physical timing—but now he is a golem. A silent, shrouded figure. His Creed is broken, and you wonder maybe - briefly - if Din is broken as well. He is never unkind to you. He is never threatening. But he is never him. His eyes— the oaky comfort you once found in them— have blackened. He is a pit.

Din Djarin is a pit of a man.

And within that pit he has born rage. Immaculately, it has sprung from him as woman did by Adam’s rib. Like mold growing upon stale fruit does he have this—this wrath. It crept through him. It stalked along his soft flesh— his tawny hide—and it waited; patient, there in the shadows, it waited for him. Waited for him to turn his back, to close his eyes and drop his guard— leeway, an entrance— as to slip in undetected.

To inhabit.

The virtue and love that once thrummed within the heart of him has burned away. Charred. Only this of him remains; this insatiable lust— for blood sport, for the promise of split knuckles and fractured bone, for you.

For all of you.

Now, Din goes out on bounties like he needs it—like it’s oxygen. He lives off it. He’s sustained by the rush, by the adrenaline laced chemicals pumping through his arteries. He’s gone for days and weeks on end and when he returns, he fucks you like he’s been starved. Out in the wilderness without a morsel to eat, he devours you. He’s ravenous as he tears his way across your body—all too pliant for him, all too willing—letting him feast on the nectar dripping from your heat.

You can feel it in his foot steps as he storms the ship, the bassy echo of it. You can see it in the pitch of his visor. You can feel it in his cock as he slams into you, night after night after night—ceaselessly. Tirelessly. Unnaturally. The number of orgasms he wrings out of you is countless—his need so incurable, you have to fight to stay above it all; you have to war against your urge to slip away completely.

Din is one grey choice - one hair trigger - from coming undone.

And you should be scared. You should be terrified—he should terrify you. Like scalding water, you should flinch away at the mere sight of him—at the warning steam that rises from his pauldrons. This predator, unhinged and off his leash—a great, crushing beast at which you are at the mercy of.

But— you aren’t.

You couldn’t place it at first: the gnawing. The gnawing at your insides like maggots festering upon a grizzled carcass hanging limp at a wet market. You couldn’t name the tremor in your gut. You gave it epithets as best you could, you gave it placeholders - fear, worry, intrigue - all until one day it spilled. One day it seeped past the tremble of your stomach and sank lower, lower,

lower.

It settled in your cunt—the gnawing. And you named it Want.

You want him. You want this—you’re addicted to it. This sin like led-lined velvet, you want to roll in it until it poisons you, until you’re smothered with it, just like it’s smothering you now— blanketing you as you mewl naked in your bed, knees knocked together. Your eyes roll back into your skull as you frantically work circles into your clit with the all consuming thought of him: his teeth at your shoulders, his hand around your windpipe.

You’re nearing your finish, the promise of that tight coil unraveling there - there - right before you. You’re so enrapt in it—in this dizzying, wanton act—you don’t register the ramp lowering. You don’t hear the carbonite chamber whir, his quarry freezing over, or his foot falls sounding their way to your bunk.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

You gasp, frightened eyelids wrenching open as his baritone timbre crackles through the hull. The Mandalorian stands there, backlit by the glow from the galley and he looms—expressionless. Haunting. You blink at him rapidly, batting away the desire that’s glazed over your eyes.

“Y-You’re back,” you stutter lamely. You try to smile. You try to distract him. “I uhm, I didn’t hear you come in. I thought you wouldn’t be back until, u-until..."

Your excuses fade, mouth parched dry. The film of his visor gives you nothing. He is unknowable, but you feel it - sense it - that energy—unbridled and rippling off of him in sick, suffocating waves.

“I’ll ask you again,” Din starts.

“What-" he steps towards you, darksaber hanging heavy at his hip, “do you think-" you shimmy up your cot, shoulder blades digging into the steel sidings, “you’re doing?”

Your heart thunders against your chest, beating until you’re sure it’ll burst.

“I’m-"

I’m sorry you almost say, and you have to force yourself to gulp down the apology. You know he doesn’t want it, and he knows you wouldn’t mean it even if you offered it to him.

Your brow wavers. “I-"

He rips away the sheet you had drawn up over you and reflexively you jerk back, revealing the gloss on your fingers and the patch of hair above your mound, shimmering shamefully—exposing you, mocking you under the dim lights.

“What’s this?” he asks, and fuck he’s patronizing you. He’s smirking—you don’t have to see it, you can hear it in the curving lilt of his voice as he drinks in the sight of your very obvious indiscretion, laid bare before him. You can’t bring yourself to answer him—you can hardly look at him—and you bristle, hair on your arm prickling up.

“You fuck yourself speechless, little one?”

Your cunt throbs, burning and contracting around the orgasm that was snatched away from you and fuck, you’re drowning in him. Din is tar—he’s an oil slick, and you’re plummeting through it—gasping for air, for the surface, for sunlight. He’s everywhere—his broad frame, his voice, his scent like copper and smoke. You can barely breathe through the thick of him.

“Answer me,” he growls, leather croaking at the clench of his fist.

“Yes—yes,” you utter, proceeding with honesty, no matter how pathetic. “I missed you,” you squeak out.

Din cocks his head, a smug look scowled onto his visor. “You missed me?” he purrs through a sneer and you nod, precious and small, worrying the inside of your lip.

He sinks one leg and then the other onto your bedroll, just between your parted feet, kneeling before you. The flimsy spring mattress squeals under his weight—all of that armor, all of that boiling soot trapped within him.

“How much?”

For a moment, you must look confused. Puzzled. Your eyebrows furrow as Din unclips the saber from his belt, rolling it over in his hand. You rake your gaze up from it, dilated pupils landing on the unforgiving black panel there.

“You claim you missed me. Prove it.”

Your cunt bottoms out.

He crouches over you, tracing along your inner thighs with it's steel shaft and you bury your fists into the cot. You don't know which to look at: Din or the rod in his hand. “Tell me you want this. Tell me you trust me.”

Fuck, it feels like you’re going to rattle apart. There isn’t an inch of you that isn’t humming—isn’t seizing up wild. “I-I trust you,” you mouth softly. And you do, whether you should or not—you trust him with your life, to make or ruin.

“Fuck, you’re wet mesh'la,” he appraises darkly, leaning in to run a leathered digit through your seam, parting your curls. Your legs twitch, heels of your feet digging into the bed. “So ready for me. So eager."

Your eyes dance frenetically down to the handle and back up to him as he aligns the saber with your pussy. The blunt end of it touches your lips and you shudder, instinctually fidgeting away from it. Din splays his hand on your knee, anchoring you in place. “Shh,” he coos, rubbing a thumb soothingly into your skin. It doesn’t feel sweet. It feels sickly, cloying— like arsenic.

You don’t dare breathe as he prods the shaft into you, inch by terrible inch. It doesn’t matter how slicked and wet you are from touching yourself, your walls strangle the foreign intrusion. Your body resists.

“Fuck,” you sob. Your throat, your pussy, all of it— it’s all compacted. It feels so fucking tight, both words and air fighting to get out and in all at once—everything inside you constricting.

“Show me,” he grits through clenched teeth. “Show me how much you missed me.” He drags his gloved digit over your clit, pressing down onto it until you see stars, fizzing in front of your vision. “I know you can take it, sweet girl. Be good and show me.”

Be good. Be good for him. Be his only vice.

He continues to swirl at your bundle of nerves and you’re nearly thrashing with it— with all of this— hair fanned and mussed against the pillow as you writhe, swallowing his saber to the hilt. Fuck, you’re so full. Maker, you’re stuffed with it; with the cold, uneven edges, the ridges woven into the grip of it— and he slowly - tortuously - delves the handle in and out of you, hitting against your cervix with every thrust.

You can only mumble. Your lips have gone slack, your mind is cavernous. All you can do is quiver and beg— beg for release. Beg for it to end.

Beg for more.

“Oh gods, oh g- Maker, please—”

Your bleary eyes shoot open as you’re silenced by the grip of his gloved hand.

“No.” Din pinches your jaw in the web of his palm, fingertips dimpling your cheeks. “No, your God isn’t here,” he seethes, low and deadly, graphite venom dripping from his lips. “Pray to me.”

Fuck.

Trembling, your lips pucker ugly and sloppy as you babble uselessly in his stony grasp, chin crinkling with a whimper. “D-Din.”

He inhales sharply, mouth snaking into a wicked grin behind his helm. “That’s it. That’s my good girl.”

He’s deboning you as he would a fish. Practiced, he plucks you into messy pieces—gutting you through your open maw. His ministrations are crawled. They’re slothed and carnal with arrogance and pride and it’s not enough—its all together too much, but still—it’s not enough. You’re hungry. You paw at him, scraping over his breastplate.

“Din, please—more," you gasp feverishly, eyes blown wide.

A blip of static huffs through his modulator. “You want more, you filthy little thing?” He gives you another squeeze, indenting scorch marks into your face.

You nod—you try to, his grasp is too firm, rooting your neck to still. “Yes.”

Din groans, all but obliging you as he begins to fuck you harder, pistoning through you as he thumbs your nub with his rough pad.

“Din-”

You’re whining now, tinny and depraved. It’s wrong. Every part, every second of this, is wrong. Immoral. But you can’t stop the way your body convulses at his every touch—you can’t stop the heat roiling in your core.

“Din, Din baby- fuck fuck fuck-”

It’s like he’s trying to split you in two—all of you. Your pussy, your mind, your soul—he’s bisecting you. Divvying you up to bits of nothing. It’s only then that horrid realization occurs to you, winding through your addled haze as he fucks you deep and splintering: you’ll never be whole again.

And scarier still—you don’t think you want to be.

No, you want to be these loathsome shards. You want to be broken glass. You want to draw blood.

You want to be possessed by him.

“Fuck yourself,” he pants, his cock straining violently against his trousers, begging for relief. “Be good and fuck yourself. Let me watch.”

Be good be good be good

He leaves your clit and you whimper at the loss. Your face is stained with tears. The salty trails cascade down to mingle into your hair, into the sheets. You’re vibrating, but you do as he says and you reach down, recoiling when you touch the chilled metal tip. Tentatively, you pad along it, settling on the end that’s peeking out from you.

A pained sound rumbles through Din as you wrap your fist around the saber, and your eyes flit up to meet his, hidden somewhere behind his helm. Hurriedly he unbuttons his pants in a flourish and removes himself from his constraints. He’s pulsing and proud, flexing up against his stomach, the veins choked to bulge along the angry, silken shaft of him.

Finally, you begin to move the hilt—finding an aching, undulating rhythm and he can’t fucking take it. He rips his helmet off, letting it clatter to the floor.

“Din,” your pray, “Din, I think I’m going to-”

You’re wrecked – fried like a livewire– as you look for him, as you search and search—for that warmth, for a trace of him left there. The Din you knew, the Din you agreed to fly with all those months ago, the Din you love. You think you see it sometimes—in the slant of his mouth, the bridge of his nose— but here, now, he is gone.

He is a pit.

Din Djarin is a pit of a man, and you want nothing more than to fall. Standing on the ledge of him, staring down into the abyss—you want this. You want to fall. You want to jump.

“Tell me you’re mine. Tell me, sweet girl— tell me.” He’s fucking his fist raw, humping into his palm as desperate as an animal.

“I’m yours,” you mewl. Furiously rubbing your clit with one hand and spearing yourself on the rod of his saber with the other, your hips buck and spasm. You snap. A blinding light sears through you, ricocheting off every scrap of muscle and tendon sewed up in your body. “Just for you,” you cry, “I’m yours I’m yours I’m yours—”

Your ragged sobs mix with the lewd slaps of skin as Din pumps himself, hot ropes of his release spitting onto you— painting your pussy, the divot of your navel, coating along the slope of your tummy.

“Look at you—fucking, look at you,” he moans throatily, easing through his rough strokes as he softens.

Your chest is heaving and you feel dumb, empty—like a puppet, arms and legs moving on phantom strings. Din removes the handle from you with a wet squelch; a viscous strand of your juices clings on, obscenely connecting your pussy to the base of it, and you rasp—the wind punched out of you with its gaping absence. You gush. It dribbles out the slit of you, leaking past your abused hole and soaking into the bedroll.

When he unsheathed the saber from your scabbard, he took a part of you with it. You’re so fucked out—you’re practically a parsec away— it went unnoticed.

Undetected.

It brushed past you. You didn’t feel it—you didn’t recognize the whisper that has slithered in in it’s place, nestling within your swollen folds.

Breeding there.

“Beautiful,” Din murmurs, placing it on the mattress beside your head, the chrome of it gleaming with your slick. He bows his head to lick a path up your cunt, laving you clean as he climbs higher and higher, tonguing off his seed from your stippled skin. “Fucking beautiful, mesh’la,” he growls. “Mine—all fucking mine.”

You’ve gone heavy. You’re too heavy to keep your eyes open—you’ve been hollowed out and you’ve got nothing keeping you tethered here. You start slipping under in slow motion—intervals between languid blinks lasting longer and longer. You’re spooled in a knot of tangled limbs with Din’s mouth, fervent and needy, flaying you open as he sees fit— with his hot mouth and teeth, suckling your breasts, biting at your nipples and bruising your pretty neck.

It’s not long before you hear it again, as you have before— as you always do: the faint caressing of speech, of lips forming language you cannot understand—made indecipherable in your strung out high.

“D’you say something?” you mumble, half conscious—half dreaming.

Din laps a long stripe up your throat, his stubble sanding your skin. “No.”

You sigh, breathy and girlish, as his fingers find your mound, dipping into you once again. He makes you cum twice more that evening. You barely have the strength to watch him do it.

/

Finally, when he’s satisfied—when he’s spent with driving you mad, making you rile— he grants you respite. He permits it – generous, charitable - and you sleep like the dead, soundly through the night until—

until you don’t.

Eyes. You feel them somewhere— there are eyes on you. You stir, stuttering in your sleep to squirm in the dark. You don’t know what you’re listening to at first. It’s a sound of some kind, a noise. There is a hiss—

A frigid hand seizes around the bloody organ pulsing in your ribcage.

No, not a hiss—it’s a voice. It’s— no-

You pat around for Din beside you but he’s gone—he’s long gone and his vacant spot has grown cold without him—and your nails dig into the sheets, desperately clawing into the fabric.

Inside you.

The voice, the sharp hush of it—it’s inside you. It speaks from inside your own mind, its forked tongue fluttering against your ear.

‘Wake up, sweet girl.’

/

Tags (IM SO SORRY): @djarinsbeskar @pedros-mustache @krissology @keeper0fthestars @read-and-rec

#darksaber!din #dark!din #dark!din x reader #dark!din x you #din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #mando fanfiction #mando x you #mando x reader #the mandalorian #star wars #sw fanfic #darksaber #Im so sorry #dom!din #haunted!din

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Misread Details, Part One

CW: Death talk, BBU, dehumanizing language about Box Boys

A Box Boy Serial Killer On the Loose? Part 1 of 3

r/LetsTalkTrueCrime

•Posted by u/oshaycanyousee 1 month ago

Hello, r/LetsTalkTrueCrime! 

I’ve posted this write-up in a couple other reddits, but someone pointed me to this one as being a good place for discussion, and this is a really weird set of three unsolved murders (well, one death and two murders? Maybe?) and I wanted to see if any of you have some thoughts or maybe more info on these cases.

Three men died within two years in three different cities. 

While each death is unique, all of them have one thing in common - fingerprints and DNA from a single human pet was found in every single location. 

Let’s start with the first death.

Nathaniel Matthew Benson, who went by “Nanda” (a childhood nickname given to him by a younger brother who couldn’t pronounce his full name as a toddler, apparently), was forty-one years old at the time of his death. 

He was born and raised in North Dakota by very strict religious parents, and had three younger brothers and one younger sister. There is some disagreement here about whether his home life was peaceful or not. His younger sister claims that the environment at home was strict but fair, and the family was mostly happy. Two of his three younger brothers tell a different story, about a father who put too much on their shoulders, especially “Nanda” as the eldest, and the pressure they felt to be perfect.

His other brother, the youngest of the family, has never given a public interview beyond a short statement that he and Nanda were not close, and he did not feel able to speak about his character. There were nearly fifteen years between the oldest and youngest childrens’ births, and Nathaniel had moved out of the house by the time the youngest was four years old, so this makes sense.

By all accounts, Nathaniel was an excellent student, getting all A’s throughout his years of education. He was considered quiet and shy, and most of his high school classmates don’t have many standout memories of him. He graduated valedictorian of his high school class, then surprised everyone by stating he wouldn’t be attending college, and instead would be taking a “gap year” to travel the United States using money from his graduation party and also some he’d saved up from working part-time retail and restaurant jobs.

Between ages 18 and 19, he took his small secondhand four-door vehicle around the nation, calling home every week or so to give his family updates, sending postcards, etc. After about six months, though, the phone calls and postcards became fewer and fewer, and eventually he told everyone he had gotten a new job and decided to forgo college entirely.

His family was shocked - and by all accounts his father was furious - but Nathaniel refused to budge. 

There was apparently a very hostile phone conversation about one year after this decision which was the last time Nathaniel Benson spoke to his father directly until his death.

After this, his family received only sporadic communications sent from a P.O. Box located in central California, in a mid-sized city known as Dosaba. He never did give anyone an actual home address.

He occasionally called them, mostly his sister and one of his brothers, but surviving family states that the phone number he called from was different every single time, and usually didn’t have a California area code.

“He used burner phones for everything,” Nathaniel’s sister Samantha told WNDR, a local news station, shortly after his mysterious death. “And he would never tell us what job he did. We asked and asked and Nanda would just say ‘oh, this and that’, or ‘I do contractor work’. Just answers that don’t tell you anything. It was all very mysterious, very secretive. You know, we talked about how maybe he’d gotten into drugs or something, but my brother wasn’t a drug user, ever. It just seems so out of character for the brother I knew.”

“He was always reading his Bible when we knew him,” Younger brother Timothy stated. “But you know, I asked him once if he had found a home church wherever he was living, and he laughed and laughed. Then he just said, ‘they’d have a lot of opinions on how I live my life if I did that’, and changed the subject. So I knew whatever he was doing, it probably wasn’t good.”

There has been a lot of speculation by investigators that “Nanda” had indeed picked up employment within some kind of drug smuggling group at this time. Evidence found after his death has even opened the possibility that he worked as a high-end hitman.

There’s a lot of international travel during this time period, far more than can be accounted for unless travel was part of his workplace responsibilities. Employment records show him working as a sales manager for a company called Sunrise Investments, but this is believed by many to be a shell corporation hiding something much, much darker. 

However, all of this remains speculative, and there’s never been any proof that Nathaniel Benson did anything but the financial sales the company claims. No one ever did much work with him, and other employees at the company stated contact with him occurred entirely by phone and fax (and then e-mail) at this time. 

When investigators pored over the documents after getting a warrant, they weren’t able to find anything suspicious - and that in and of itself seems suspicious to some.

For years, Benson seemed to simply drop off the map entirely when it comes to local information - investigators did find that he owned a vintage Corvette that he fixed up himself (found via vehicle registry and taxes listings, which is public knowledge), and that about two years before his death he bought a large five-bedroom house with a basement in Dosaba, which he renovated in total secrecy. I was able to find records of him paying home taxes through his mortgage company, and that he spoke to local contractors and building companies, paying for consultations about the renovations he undertook. 

None of the companies he spoke to kept any kind of detailed notes about these consultations, but you’ll see why it’s relevant when I discuss what was found after his death.

Nathaniel Benson’s life came to an abrupt end on August 16th, 20XX, but nobody would find his body for more than two days. 

On August 18th, his cleaning lady arrived for her usual weekly visit to discover him crumpled at the foot of the stairs, face-up. She called 911 immediately and first responders arrived within twenty minutes to her white-faced and nearly silent. 

First responders noted that Nathaniel’s eyes were closed, unusual for a violent death. A wet cloth had been laid over them to help them stay that way. The medical examiner stated later that this would have to have been done within the first hour after he died, before rigor mortis could stiffen muscles and lead to them opening again. 

That whoever witnessed his death knew to do this is deeply unusual, and may be a sign of affection or grief. 

The autopsy found that Nathaniel had met his end approximately 36 hours before he was found, and had died due to an undiagnosed heart defect that had resulted in cardiac arrest. 

Sounds like any sudden death that can simply be written off as sad but natural, right? Well, there’s a few details that make things a little murkier than that, and have led to his death being listed as “undetermined” officially, and possibly including foul play.

For one thing, Nathaniel hadn’t simply collapsed next to the stairs - he had fallen, or been pushed, and showed evidence of bone fractures and head trauma consistent with the fall. A bit of blood was found on one step that came from his injuries. This head trauma would likely not have been fatal if he had received medical attention, but cardiac arrest ensured death even if head trauma didn’t. 

Did Nathaniel Benson suffer a heart attack and fall down the stairs, dying only when he reached the bottom? Maybe. 

Or maybe he really was pushed, the shock of it is the reason he went into cardiac arrest. 

There’s one more unusual fact that makes foul play a possibility in this mysterious death. 

Nathaniel Benson owned a legally purchased Box Boy, no known legal name, who went by his original purchase number: 334235. The Box Boy was a Romantic designation, and was purchased from Facility 001 in Berras, a city in Southern California, where the WRU headquarters is located.

WRU, when contacted by investigators, easily agreed to meet and provide detectives with information regarding the Box Boy’s purchase, as well as the DNA and fingerprint samples the company keeps on file. 

According to WRU’s internal records, this Boxie was not only a designated Romantic, but a specialty Romantic, trained for ‘masochism’. This tracks with multiple books on, shall we say, somewhat salacious interests that Benson had for his love life.

As Benson never seemed to date anyone or maintain a relationship, it’s theorized that the Boxie was his way of dealing with the stress of his work. WRU noted that Benson had contacted them after the purchase was complete to give his compliments on the Boxie’s training and note that he was ‘perfect’ and they ‘got along just fine’. 

The Box Boy’s fingerprints were found all over the house, which is totally normal. He was living there full-time, after all. But investigators also located something a bit more unusual: a secret room within the home that the cleaning lady had never seen before, hidden behind a carefully camouflaged door.

This is what Benson had been working on when he ‘renovated’ his newly purchased home: He built a secret dungeon room with stone walls and a concrete floor, outfitted with a dip and a “drain”, plus a garden hose hooked up on one wall. 

The room also had rows upon rows of cabinets full of various tools consistent with a ‘hard BDSM lifestyle’, according to one detective. I wasn’t able to get ahold of the actual list of items found, but was able to determine that whips, knives, ‘unspecified implements purchased from adult stores’, and other things were found.

Tests done on the walls and floor showed that blood had been spilled nearly everywhere in the room at one time or another, and large amounts of it. There was also evidence of blood found in Nathaniel Benson’s bedroom, primarily on the floor and in the bed. A small faded stain was found on the headboard just below a set of cuffs hooked into it.

A few small dried bloodstains were also found around the master bathroom sink, and investigators were able to determine the blood matched the DNA of the Box Boy, and was left there much more recently than the rest of the blood in the house, possibly even on the day of Benson’s death. 

Here’s the thing, though: the Box Boy himself was nowhere to be found. 

Was this Box Boy tired of being used as a human pincushion? Did he take matters into his own hands and commit the ultimate crime a pet can do, killing his owner? If he did, he no doubt knew what happens to pets who kill their owners, usually either being ‘put down’ or wiped clean to be resold.

Is our Boxie a killer right from the start? Or was he only a witness to a natural death who panicked and ran away?

Without locating the Boxie himself, it’s impossible to know.

The cleaning lady remembered him, and gave a description: Somewhere between 5’8” and 5’11”, wiry but with some muscle, usually dressed in just a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt when she was in the house. He has short dark hair, brown eyes, and an angular face. She mentioned visible scars on his arms, but none on his face. She was told to call him only “pet” if she needed to speak to him. She stated his voice was slightly hoarse and rough, as if he had a sore throat all the time. 

They had only one significant interaction, where the cleaning lady inquired about a large bruise on the Boxie’s face and bandages on his arms. He apparently told her, at the time, that he ‘liked the reminer’, but thanked her for asking after his health. They never spoke directly again. 

The detail about his face being unscarred will become incredibly relevant in parts 2 and 3.

Neighbors, when asked, mentioned that they had seen someone matching that description walking away from the house somewhere around 4 and 5 pm on August 16th. The medical examiner believes Benson died around noon, so this leaves about four or five hours between the death and the Boxie leaving.

He appeared to be walking very quickly and one neighbor noticed he was holding what looked like crumpled cash in one hand and a plastic shopping bag in another.

He was spotted waiting at a nearby bus stop, and footage from a camera mounted inside the bus shows someone matching the Box Boy’s description riding the bus all the way into Dosaba’s historic, artsy downtown. There, he was again captured on CCTV purchasing a one-way train ticket with cash. The train station employee who sold him the ticket remembers offering him a round-trip ticket for a discount, which she always did anyone who asked for a ticket to another city, only to have him “nervously” say he wouldn’t need to come back. She mentioned that he scratched at the side of his neck, and that when he walked away, he looked like his shoes were a little too big for his feet.

It is believed, as Nathaniel Benson was found barefoot but wearing clothing that suggested he had been outside doing yard work just before his death, that the Box Boy stole his shoes.

The fleeing Box Boy is captured one more time on camera as he arrived at his destination, Red Hills, approximately a two-hour train ride to the south. He walks past the CCTV quickly, hunched over as if trying to hide his face.

After that, he disappears.

Red Hills is a significantly larger city than Dosaba, with nearly a million residents within city limits and another 600,000 filling its suburbs and outer neighborhoods. Red Hills is a city that has seen better days, and it would be easy for a runaway Box Boy to simply fade away into its seedier districts. While Red Hills has had more than a dozen runaway Boxies picked up over the years, mostly Romantics who engaged in prostitution to make ends meet, it’s not believed that Benson’s Box Boy knew this when he chose the location.

As Romantic Boxies usually can’t read, it’s believed he simply chose a location he’d overheard someone else say, knowing nothing about what he would find when he got there.

Two days after his death, Nathaniel Benson’s debit and credit cards, Driver’s License, and a folded-up note he had written to himself about buying toothpaste were found in a plastic shopping bag tied-off at the top, were found inside the bus the Boxie had ridden, stuffed between the edge of a seat and the wall. The Boxie’s fingerprints were on everything.

But the Boxie himself wouldn’t be seen again until more than a year later.

Nathaniel “Nanda” Benson’s death for a time remained a one-off unsolved mystery. A little on the unusual side, but entirely possible that no foul play occurred, just some details that need filling in.

The shocking murder of a Red Hills man known locally as “Brute” would bring this Box Boy back into law enforcement’s line of sight, and open up questions about whether the Box Boy had simply been running away from Nathaniel Benson’s death… or leaving to find a new victim.

I’ll post Part 2, about “Brute”, shortly! Then Part 3 will be about a third murder, in which our potential Box Boy serial killer takes out… another serial killer. 

I told you this one gets interesting.

-

@astrobly @finder-of-rings @burtlederp @whump-tr0pes @raigash @orchidscript @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @eatyourdamnpears @boxboysandotherwhump @whumptywhumpdump @whumpfigure @outofangband @thehopelessopus @downriver914 @justabitofwhump @butwhatifyouwrite @newandfiguringitout @yet-another-heathen @nonsensical-whump @endless-whump @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whumpiary

#whump #jameson bb #epistolary #epistolary fiction #original fiction #murder tw #sorta #maybe #whumper death #escaped whumpee #runaway whumpee #bbu #box boy #box boy universe #pet whump #dehumanization tw #jameson's masochism #a brief mention but still #bruises tw #blood tw #horror fiction #crime fiction

[rodeoxqueen]

Of Lacking Spectacle(s)-Vergil/Reader

Summary: Vergil is a lot of things. Vergil is the Dark Slayer, The Alpha and The Omega, and the eldest son of Sparda. Vergil is also….in need of glasses?

Tags/Warnings: Suggestive Ending, Gender-Neutral Reader, Dante Read The Lord Of The Flies, Inspired By Vergil’s Buddy Holly Glasses Mod

Read It On AO3

Thank you @drusoona​ for sending me the pictures of Vergil that inspired this. The title is a reference to Gus Dapperton’s song Of Lacking Spectacle.

-Rodeo

(Picture Credits: @drusoona​) 

Vergil was always so precise and capable, sensing demons from distances away and predicting attacks with pinpoint accuracy. 

He was intense, his eyes purely focused on the task ahead of himself. A man of pure drive and prowess. And he was your man. 

It came gradually, something he tried to ignore. A few sentences of blurred lines would quickly flicker back to clarity. A small pain that flashed behind his eyes after reading in a room too dark. 

It didn’t look obvious to anyone. Even to his ever-doting beloved. He was the son of Sparda, a demon that surpassed Death multiple times. There was no way he could have failing vision. Impossible, he would scoff to himself as he rubbed his eyes. 

This statement soon turned from ignorance to denial of a very real problem Vergil avoided showing. His always narrowed stare hid it quite well. 

An anthill turned into a mountain he could no longer stamp down. And his beloved had already watched it build up for some time, waiting for the stubborn devil to say something about it. 

Which he didn’t. 

So when you were cooking some mac and cheese from a recipe you found from a friend who knew a friend who knew a friend who asked her son for the recipe, you decided to strike up the question. 

“Vergil.” 

“That is my name, yes,” Vergil said from the couch, enraptured in a new book you bought him. You rolled your eyes at him. 

“Are you having vision problems?” 

“Of course not.” Hand on your hip, you pointed your rue-covered spatula at him. 

“Then why is your nose literally in that book?” Vergil used to always be found with his book at arms-length as he would silently recite the words. 

He stilled. He quickly readjusted himself and coughed. 

Jackpot. 

“I haven’t a clue what you mean.” 

“Don’t lie to me in front of my macaroni.” You threaten, stirring the pot. He sighs. 

“My vision is just fine.” Vergil insists, squinting at the blurred words. 

“Vergil, I think you have vision problems.” 

“That’s foolishness.” 

“Why so?” 

“My father was a powerful demon, bad vision should not run in our family-” 

“Didn’t your dad wear a monocle?” 

His mouth dries and his eyes widen in realization. Oh god it was genetic. You have won the tirade and you puff your chest out. 

“How about I take you to the eye doctor? I can call later and set up an appointment.” Vergil has closed the book and chosen instead to look at you. 

The macaroni is boiling, a u-shaped pasta you are rather fond of. Your apron is speckled with flour and you twiddle the spoon in your hand. 

“Come on, it’ll be super quick. Just read some letters off a wall.” You say as you add burrata into the cheese blend. Vergil always liked that kind of cheese. 

When you went grocery shopping, he really thought you wouldn’t notice him taking more than three samples of it when no one was looking before walking off like a successful sample thief. 

Upon the sound of a bag of his favorite cheese opening, Vergil got up. You smile. You go to offer him a bit before quickly snatching it away from his hand. He tuts at you. 

“You can have some if you agree.” 

“Agree to what?” You sigh. 

“Eye doctor.” 

“No need. I am fine.” 

You turn to stir the pot of delicious pasta before going back to lecturing this stubborn devil. 

“I’ve noticed you’ve been squinting more and having headaches.” You state. Vergil scolds himself, thinking he was much more hidden about his new problem. 

He is quiet as he stares off into the pot of macaroni. 

“Please? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” You put your other hand on his cheek. He looks at you finally, ice-blue glaciers warming at your loving and concerned expression. 

God, his mate was so soft. He pulls your non-occupied hand to his other cheek-

And snatches the bit of burrata out of your fingers with his mouth. You make an offended noise at his trickery. 

“Very well.” He muses. 

You call up a local eye doctor after a hearty bowl of mac and cheese.  

Taking Vergil to the doctor was like taking a cat to the vet. He sat in the waiting room with his arms crossed and eyes intensely out-alphaing everyone in his general proximity.  

When they finally call your names, the ice was broken and people finally felt safe to breathe in his absence. 

The eye doctor guides Vergil to the examination room. Vergil does not like it already. Why would you do this to him? 

He waits at the door, waiting for you to come in with him. 

“Sir, this is more of a personal test.” You shrug and blow him a kiss as he is ushered into the room

“How long has it been since you’ve had an eye test?” The doctor asks, Vergil taking a seat with a strange contraption before him. 

“I have never had an eye test.” Vergil declares. The doctor laughs and swings the phoropter down. Vergil flinches slightly. 

“Whoa now. Just set your chin here and look into the eye holes. This isn’t some medieval torture device.” He growls at the humiliation before doing so. 

A series of lenses swiping through and the repeating question “which one looks clearer” later, Vergil is liberated from the examination room. He is greeted to you sitting and waiting for him. 

“It wasn’t too bad, right?” You ask. Vergil nods. You turn to the doctor. 

“So how is his vision?” The doctor flips through a few notes. 

“Well, the letter Z was on the board and I asked him what he saw and he said triangle.” The doctor flips through a few notes. 

“Your husband is in dire need of glasses.” Vergil raises an eyebrow at that statement. 

Your husband, he likes that. You don’t even correct him. 

Luckily, this clinic also sold frames and Vergil is able to pick out a few while you do the paperwork. 

You remember Vergil has no taste and quickly go to help him. 

“No, no, well maybe, no, ew.” You respond as Vergil swaps various frames about. 

“My love, I simply need the lenses. These materials mean nothing.” He argues as you deny the tenth pair of frames. 

“Well, you’re very handsome and I’d like you to get a nice pair that matches.” You say. You go to make a smug face at him when you realize he has finally walked away to pick out his own. 

You immediately drop the frames you were holding when Vergil places a certain pair of thick black-colored glasses upon his nose. 

“We’ll take them.” 

Several weeks later, Vergil is bestowed his new reading glasses. He finds his problem vanishes quickly and he can now read at a decent distance away. You seem to greatly appreciate them. Strange. On jobs, he usually takes them off and stores them in the little case he was given. 

He thought of it as weakness. If his own body was failing to maintain 20/20 vision, he should be ashamed. In the demon world, any bit of weakness meant imminent death. 

Yet, he told himself he wasn’t in Hell anymore. He was having breakfast with his beloved and he was safe. And he was privileged to be allowed for his body to take a break and age as it should have, his vision waning as a normal man would have at his age. 

You kiss him goodbye for another day of work and you push his glasses up as they tip slightly down. His nose does the little scrunch you love so much. So much, you kiss him on the bridge of the nose. He purrs and promptly cuts a portal to work. 

He walks into Devil May Cry to work with his brother. Dante is upstairs, the sounds of a shower happening. 

Vergil takes to the paperwork his brother has ditched doing once more, typing on a clunky keyboard. You had insisted to pay extra for blue-light protection and he finds it is so much easier to see the computer screen. 

Finally, the water is shut off. His idiot brother is done wasting work hours. Well, when is he not? 

Vergil continues looking through yellowed documents as Dante passes by, smelling like strawberry soap marketed for children. 

Dante walks forward but then puts himself in reverse to see Vergil with glasses on again. 

“Yes?” Vergil grits his teeth. 

“Those are glasses.” Dante starts. 

“Yes, yes they are.” 

Dante snorts and points at him. 

“Buddy Holly looking ass bitch.” Vergil stops and glares at his brother.  

“I don’t even know who that is.” 

 Dante wheezes at he keeps looking at Vergil. 

“Of course you don’t, you bag of bones! You look like a college RA.” 

“Dante, get to work-”

“What are you going to do? Tell the dean on me? Is that why you were gone a couple weeks ago?” 

“I had an appointment-”

“I hAd aN aPpOiNtMeNt.” Dante mocks. 

“That’s rich coming from someone without insurance coverage-” 

His spectacles are snatched from his face. Dante puts them on. 

“How do you see with these on? Damn, you’re legally blind.” 

“That’s why they’re mine-hand them over!” 

“You sound like Piggy from Lord of the Flies. My specs! My specs!” Dante mocks in a terrible English accent. 

Vergil growls in anger. 

When Vergil comes home with his glasses off, you wonder why. The blue devil comes behind you while you make some soup, hands on your waist and breathing in the scent of your shampoo. 

He’s quiet and in a way that is not his usual silence. He seems to have something on his mind. This time, you choose not to push it and let him be. 

It isn’t until you’re both in bed, the lamp on as Vergil goes to take out a new novel. He hesitates when he reaches for his black glasses. 

“My love?” 

“Yes, Vergil?” 

“Who’s Buddy Holly?” 

Weird question but okay. 

You search up the name on your phone and show him a picture. He puts on his glasses. 

“Why would Dante think I look like that?” He asks himself with a frown. Upon realization, you put your hand on your mouth and fight back a laugh. 

“Did Dante say that?” Vergil rolls his eyes. 

“Of course he did, amongst other things.” 

“Well, I think you look very nice. Like a very sexy college professor.” Vergil smugly looks at your bedroom eyes. The novel is long abandoned on the table. 

 Before he can pounce on you, he goes to take off his spectacles. You snatch them and place them back on his face. 

“Keep them on this time.” You bite your bottom lip teasingly. 

Vergil purrs. 

He might get used to this. 

[More Photos Of Vergil’s Mod-Credited To @drusoona​]

#vergil x reader #vergil sparda #vergil imagines #devil may cry imagines #devil may cry imagine #dmc vergil #vergil #fluff #devil may cry #devil may cry vergil #gender neutral reader #rodeo used butcherknives' recipe for this fic #rodeo is lactose intolerant and a bite of mac and cheese will vibe check her straight to hell #drusoona's pictures

[mycrofts-gunbrella]

Sirius Black x Reader- Do You? Still?

If you had a million guesses on how your Thursday night would have ended you'd have never thought this one was possible. Initially, the loud, desperate knock on the door scared you. Who could possibly want you at this hour? Hesitant legs and a shaking hand eventually reached the door knob, opening the door slowly and a choked sob escaped your throat at the sight. It wasn't possible. There was no chance this was real.

"Your voice was barely a whisper as you dived forward towards the crying man on the steps, "Merlin is it really you?" You sobbed into his shoulder as you felt his skinny arms wrap round your waist. He remained silent, his emotions still taking control over his body. Without saying any more, you took his arm and pulled him into the same house he was taken from 12 years ago. Leading him to the front room and sitting beside him on the sofa you could finally take a moment to study his appearance.

He'd lost weight. A lot of it. Skin stretched over bone as he started to play with his thin fingers; he was nervous- of course he was Y/N you idiot, he just left Azkaban bloody Prison. His hair was still long but now his soft curls had become matted and filled with dirt. The most heartbreaking part was his eyes. His deep, stormy grey eyes were still beautiful but the joy and spark that brightened them up had gone. You moved back into his arms at alarming speed and felt him bury his head in your neck, his own sobs breaking free as his grip became painfully tight on your hips- fingertips dug in deep but the pain felt good, it felt real. He was really here.

You'd missed him more than anything. Sirius Black was the love of your life. In the 12 years he'd been gone you'd never even contemplated going out to find anybody else; there wasn't anybody else for you. But it became hard and the memories slowly became too hard to bear- with James and Lily dying and then Sirius being taken from you too you were sure if it wasn't for Remus being at your side for most of it you'd have ended it by now.

"Sirius." You breathed out his name for the first time in years. He looked up at you, staring into your glassed eyes. "God I've missed you. I've missed you so bloody much." You put your hand against his cheek, wiping away his stray tears with your thumb.

"Me too, my love. You have no idea." His voice was hoarse but the emotion was clear as day. "We have.. a lot to talk about really, don't we?" He spoke quietly. You nodded and stood up, offering him your hand.

"How about we get you cleaned up first? I still have all of your clothes, I could never bring myself to get rid of anything actually." You offered. His dirty hand went into yours as he gave you a small smile. As he pulled himself up you heard him wince in pain and move to clutch his side. You moved to help him but he stopped you.

"I'm okay Y/N, honestly." He tried to reassure you but his attempts were pitiful. You simply nodded and went upstairs to the bathroom with him.

"I'll go grab a towel and some clothes for you. I'm afraid Remus used up all your toiletries years ago, he stayed here for a while. You're more than welcome to use mine, we both know you're a sucker for my strawberry shampoo." You returned moments later with the items and walked in, Sirius not yet noticing your presence as he looked at himself in the mirror. You attempted not to cry again at the sight and held it back to be stronger for him, Merlin knows what he's been through. If the view of his extremely thin physique wasn't enough he was covered in multiple scars, cuts and bruises- the last of which being a massive one that spread over his ribcage and round to the back of his shoulder blade. His fingers ghosted over them all as his eyes watered once more at the man he had become. Soon enough his eyes caught yours in the mirror and he panicked, whipping round and attempting to cover his body with his old clothes to hide himself from you, embarrassed at the way he looked, but his attempt failed and he only hurt himself more moving his arms so fast.

"Y/N I'm so sorry. I didn't want you to have to see me like.. this." He spoke shyly, nothing like the confident man who used to parade around the house in nothing but his boxer shorts.

"Don't be silly. I'll give you a hand, you're in no position to do anything yourself." You said, turning the shower on to a beautifully warm temperature.

"Y/N I'm fine I don't want to be any bother."

"You're never any bother Sirius, I want to help you. Please?" You plead, sighing with relief when he gave in and stepped into the shower. You stripped too and got in with him- you'd both seen each other naked before, there was no thoughts even close to sexual ones in your mind as you turned him to face you, the hot water ricocheting off his face. Slowly, you sponged him down, constantly weary of everywhere that could hurt him and smiled as you heard him sigh contentedly as the layers of dirt washed down the drain. Next you combed your fingers through his knotted hair, removing the larger tangles and rubbing your strawberry scented shampoo over his scalp, feeling him physically relax under your touch. You stepped out before him and offered him a towel and his clothes on the side of the sink, pulling on one of his old t-shirts yourself before helping him put his own on and making your way back downstairs. Whilst he got himself comfortable you left to make him some tea and grabbed one of his favourite chocolate bars from the cupboard in hopes to cheer him up a little more. Walking back in you settled the tea on the side and offered him the food.

"Thank you." He spoke, taking a sip of the warm drink and settling back into the soft cushions of the sofa. You didn't realise you'd been staring until his voice came back again. "Y/N please don't look at me like that."

"Like what?" You questioned, worried you'd upset him more.

"Like you're scared to talk to me. Like anything you say or ask is going to make me break. I'm a few pounds lighter but I'm still the same Sirius. Although the weight shouldn't be a problem if you have more of these back there." He gave a laugh. A small one, but still a laugh, as he took a bite of his chocolate bar.

"I'm sorry. I'm just.. still trying to comprehend the fact this is happening. Are you okay?" You asked, taking his hand in your own and rubbing your fingers across his knuckles.

"I'm home. I have real clothes, chocolate, tea and you. I've not felt better in 12 years." You nodded in response, still unsure of what to say. "Y/N.. you didn't.." He paused. "You didn't think I-"

"Oh god Sirius no. Never for even a second. James and Lily were family, you could never do such a thing." You watched him visibly relax and sigh in relief, turning his hand over to intertwine your fingers together.

"I know you probably have a lot of questions-"

"Don't. Let's not talk about it for a little while; you don't have to tell me anything until you're ready to. I think we should just get you to bed and let you rest. You'll feel a lot better in a few days." You spoke, not wanting to push him too far too soon.

"Don't feel obligated to but uh- will you.. it's just I've spent so long alone.. could you possibly.." He was almost embarrassed to finish his question, not quite knowing where he stood with you. He loved you with all his heart and the two of you together was the strongest relationship anyone had ever seen. But that was 12 years ago. Had you moved on? Had you stopped feeling the same for him? He couldn't blame you if you had. Your voice interrupted his thought process."

"You want me to stay with you? I'm not planning on going anywhere. Come on." You offered your hand again, this time taking his arm to help him up rather than his hand to save the strain on his bruises. He took the offer gratefully and followed you back upstairs. You slid into the bed, having slept only on your side out of habit still for the last 12 years, leaving Sirius' side untouched since he left. You lifted the duvet on his side and patted the bed, offering him in to which he accepted quickly and nestled himself under the covers.

"God it feels good laying down in a proper bed." He all but moaned, sinking into his old pillows. Almost instinctively as if he'd never left you rolled towards Sirius and he embraced you under his arm like it was normal routine. "So.. right side of the bed in pristine condition.. all of my clothes still in the wardrobe and even my old ripped boots still sitting by the door. Dare I say you missed me?" He asked, his old cheeky tone you know and love coming back into his voice.

"You say that as if you weren't crying before I even opened the door." You teased, moving your head to look up at him.

"Oh I can easily admit I missed you more than I missed anything but I didn't have anything else to even come close to make me not think of you. You had the rest of the world, why didn't you move on?" He asked, preparing himself to hear you say you've met other people and this was all just an act of kindness.

"The rest of the world? Sirius my whole world was stuck in a cell in Azkaban. I never even thought about moving on; people told me to but I never saw the point. I met the love of my life when I was 11 years old, nothing could ever come close to how I feel about you. I love you Sirius." You confessed.

"Do you? Still?" He asked, still insecure.

"I never stopped." He breathed deeply and you noticed one stray tear roll down his cheek. You leant up and placed your lips on his for the first time in 12 years and all of the emotion came flooding back. The kiss was short, almost lazy, but the feelings behind it were stronger than ever.

"I love you too Y/N. Thank you. Thank you for never giving up on me. Thank you." He whispered, kissing different parts of your face with each sentence.

"I never could Pads. Now let's get some sleep and I'll take another look at those bruises in the morning to see if there's anything I can do about them." You tucked yourself deeper under his arm, your hand reaching over to trace the tattoos that covered his chest. Barely 5 minutes had passed before you heard his soft snoring from beside you and smiled to yourself. It was all real. Sirius was home at last, something you thought would never happen and you'd never been happier.

#harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #reader insert #harry potter imagine #sirius black #sirius black x you #sirius black x reader #harry potter #sirius orion black

[lil-pine-mha-drabbles]

Can u please write a Shoto fanfic (or could be for multiple characters) inspired by Murders by Miracle Musical? 😭😭😭 The line "all for nothing at all" hits very VERY hard for me. Can u make it as angst as possible too?

Todoroki Shoto x Murderer Reader

I listened to that song a bunch and still my brain didn’t process all of the story in that song, I hope that you will still enjoy this. I did work hard and I think I did ok, but I put my own spin on it.

TW: A LOT of blood, a few swear words, and heavy(ish) angst.

I got too into the storyline I forgot all the actual angst I was supposed to put in.

Here are some people that inspire me, @alpha-bnha-boys and @random-mha-thoughts

There are 2567 words to read below the line!

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Were the woods always this scary?

The leaves rustled and the wind whistled as it sifted through the dark branches. It would have been a peaceful day if it weren’t for the darkness that had been put over the woods. You looked up through the cracks in the leaves to see that the sky was beginning to darken as well. You picked up your axe and wiped of the blood of the animal laying dead on the ground, the blood pooling around your feet. The smell was enticingly sweet, the scent of blood always fascinated you. As you grew older you figured out your favorite type of blood was human, there was something about the fact that there was no fur to get matted when the liquid gushed out leaving you in excitement to see the beautiful color on the white or chocolate skin.

You may be a murderer but you didn’t discriminate. You hoped desperately to find another human in these woods to harvest but you would wait and kill others patiently. The hunt is what you enjoyed; the feeling of raw adrenaline as you ran after your prey.

You had a quirk, and that quirk was a shifting quirk. You could change into any animal; real or fantasy that you could think of, but... whatever you choose you keep the appetite and diet of that chosen creature for a week.

If say, you wanted to be a horse, you would eat grass for a week, even after shifting back, if you wanted to be a dragon, you would be eating meat and spewing fire all week.

But, if you shifted into a herbivore then into a carnivore, you would not only be eating meat AND plants, you would have double the hunger for blood. To most people that would horrify them, but since you drank blood like apple juice, you had no problem going on a killing spree to sedate your desire.

You picked up the blood in the buckets you brought and rang out the already mangled body over the container. Finally you grabbed your shovel and dug by a dried tree. Soil that has a calcium deficiency ate up bodies quickly. If you buried and animal under a tree, the roots would wrap around the white bones in haste to receive their needed vitamin.

After the burial was complete you picked up the two buckets and walked to your cabin.

Now, these woods were special. There was a fountain of mirrors which showed your true inner self but only few have seen it. Those who have are trapped in the woods forever to guard the fountain from others who wish to see themselves.

You sniffed the air and quietly put down your buckets when you smelled it. Fresh prey.

Someone was in the woods whether they’re lost or they’re looking for the fountain, you don’t care, you’ll drink them up either way and leave their bones to the trees of the forest.

You turned into a bunny and jumped over boulders and bushes to reach the heavenly smell. It was sweeter then any human you have ever smelled, but it was surrounded by two other people. Well, you could eat two and save the sweetest for later, like a dessert.

There was a girl and two boys walking with picnic baskets through your woods. The girl was wearing bright pink, easy to spot. One boy had green hair that just made you want to rip out and watch the blood fall from the open scalp.

The last was the sweetest one. His hair was red and white, he would be easy to track down. If he ran you could sniff him out, or look through the darkness for his bright self.

The girl would be easiest to lure, you thought. She would like to chase the cute little bunny, but would ultimately get eaten by the big bad wolf.

You hopped out in front of the girl and her eyes went wide as she squealed to the boys next her how cute you were.

“Hoe, I am gorgeous, not cute.” You thought to yourself bitterly.

You hopped a little father away and the white and red haired boy tried to stop her.

“Uraraka, it’s dangerous in these woods, I wouldn’t recommend chasing the bunny.” He looked through you like he knew everything about you and you shook with anticipation.

Oh, this would be fun.

“Look, it’s cold. It’s shaking so much... please, I gotta help it.” You rolled your eyes and hopped away looking like you were limping. Your sweetest prey just sighed and waved her off like he knew she would be killed by you. The girl smiled and ran after you while the boys waited on the path for her.

When you lead her far enough that the boys wouldn’t see your smallest dragon form, you changed rapidly, stretching over her, your head curled around to the other side so she couldn’t run. You let her scream and then bit.

The blood squelched in your mouth as the neck snapped and your eyes rolled back at how good the flavor was. You sucked and sucked until she was nothing but a dried carcass on the floor.

You flew to the trees in your terrifying black creature form. “The Black Chaos.” The only way to describe this form is it looks like the chupacabra. Black fur that looked like porcupine quills, tail covered in spikes, claws as thin and as sharp as the sharpest knife, and wings that could cut through the thickest tree trunks in your way.

The two boys ran as fast as they could to where they heard the scream only for the green one to start bawling about his love, and your sweet, sweet prey looked around to assess the situation. He looked at all the trees till he locked eyes with you. His left side covered it self in flames and his right put a field of ice around his now screaming friend. You smiled at him, teeth glistening with the blood of the girl. Your eyes stayed on him as you flew up and over the trees.

He breathed a small sigh of relief, thinking you had left until he heard his ice shatter and you fly out, holding his last friend’s neck between your teeth. He was paralyzed with fear while sucked all of the blood from his friend while you locked eyes.

He couldn’t maintain eye contact much longer and turned to the side to throw up. You changed your form into your human body and watched from a distance curiously. Why did he feel sick? You were only eating a meal. Did he dislike you?

You had never felt this feeling before. It was one of dread and confusion, maybe, guilt. You watched him spill his guts for a bit more before he wiped his mouth and looked at you sitting on the ground, legs crossed, head tilted like a confused child.

“Why do you come to my woods, red one?” You asked.

“Why did you eat my friends?!”

“I was just having dinner, what’s the big deal? I’d rather have meals then friends.” You stated to him plainly.

He looked at you funny.

“I’m not afraid of death. When will you kill me?”

“Rather bold of you to think I was going to eat my dessert on a full stomach.” You looked at your black claw-like nails in thought.

“Dessert?”

“Dessert, your starting to get on my nerves. I might just keep you as punishment.”

“Is this some kind of sick twisted flirting?!” Tears streamed down his face, his eyes puffy red, and the darkness around him made you almost purr he looked so gorgeous.

“Is it working?” This time you did purr, your words surprised the boy as he flopped down onto the floor in defeat. “Well?” You asked again.

“Maybe you should have come up like a normal person and asked me on a date instead of EATING MY FRIENDS!?”

“I can see why you’re mad, but what is ‘date’?”

“A date, like where you take someone you might want to marry out to dinner or something.”

“Like a courtship then?”

“How old are you?” He asked curiosity lacing his voice as you purred because of the lovely sound.

“I was born in 1823. Lovely time I must admit, until they tried to burn me at the stake because I was the only person with a quirk.” You rolled your eyes then smile suddenly at the boy in front of you.

“How,” he coughed, “how old were you when you were killed?”

“Oh dear me, no, I wasn’t killed! I escaped into these woods, of course!!” Your smile must’ve grown larger because he looked like he became more uncomfortable. “Sorry, I smile too much.”

“No, you don’t smile too much, I just became uncomfortable because I’m sitting right next to my best friends’ corpses. No biggie.” He said with what you believed was sarcasm.

“I remember the first time I sat next to my best friend’s dead corpse, my father killed her when he found us kissing behind the barn! He wasn’t pleased that his daughter was becoming a ‘whore’. But! I showed him, after years of abuse from that bastard, I sucked his brains right out of his empty eye sockets! Good times, good times!” You laughed bitterly. “You probably think I’m some freak right? A girl can’t like girls and guys, it’s immoral.”

“Well, that’s not why I find you a freak, but you’re fine. It’s called being a bisexual. It’s not super new but it’s definitely more widely excepted now days.” He smiled at you slightly which made you smile a bit.

You two talked through the night like that. He explained that his father was emotionally and physically abusing him, and he had problems with showing emotion because of it. He wasn’t exactly “okay” with you killing his friends but he seemed more excepting then anyone you could think of.

You’d been with Shoto for months now. He was forever forced to stay in the woods. (With you not letting him leave only to go back to his father, it could be quite difficult.)

You talked about everything and anything, he taught you how to cook meat and how to prepare a meal without drinking blood. You stayed in your human form for the rest of the time he was with you and the only animals you were ever allowed to transform into were herbivores, which made sense. You hadn’t eaten raw meat in months and you thought you were doing better.

You thought.

You warned him. “Full moon is coming, stay in the cabin when I’m out, don’t leave. I won’t be able to control myself.” You told him, over, and over, and OVER. He didn’t LISTEN.

You were out in your most dangerous form, the Black Chaos. Wings spread out you hunted without being able to stop yourself. This was the only time of year you physically couldn’t restrain yourself from hurting others, and killing, and hunting.

Over the past hundreds of years that you’ve roamed these woods, this was the only time you were scared of yourself. You hated the way you couldn’t control yourself when you smell the slightest bit of sweet blood.

You had hunted ninety-nine beasts in the forest, bears, wolves, bunnies, foxes, dogs, dear, frogs, if they had meat on them, they were dead. Every time you hunt like this you count how many you kill.

It’s always a hundred. Exactly.

The moon was falling fast and you felt yourself slowly come back but something wasn’t right, you had seen a few animals pass you but you had no intention of killing them, yet you only had ninety-nine.

What was your body waiting for?

You looked out towards where the sun was rising and felt yourself stay on edge. Whatever was happening, Black Chaos still held the rains of your body.

That’s when it hit. The sweetest scent, Shoto.

He must’ve left the cabin looking for you now that the sun had risen, you wanted to call out to him, scream, “run!!! Stay away!!” But no words left your mouth as your body surged forward, bounding on all fours, not even utilizing your wings.

You saw the head of red and white hair in the distance and you finally let out and agonizing scream. “RUN!!!” That was all you could say before your eyes turned red and he turned and ran.

The chase was on.

You could hear his breathy huffs as he ran you could hear the leaves crunch under his feet, his sobs that wracked his body as his tears fell. He was terrified, of YOU.

You were screaming and crying and trying to stop this mess but the thing inside you wouldn’t stop seeking blood, his blood.

Finally after twenty minutes of running and crying on both parts, he tripped and you loomed over him, your long black tongue lolled out and touched his face, caressing it sweetly, wiping his tears as his chest rose and fell rapidly. Not only from all of the running, but also the fear of you.

He always said he wasn’t afraid of death but after looking into your eyes, your eyes that held death, he realized something. He was afraid, but he was in love with death. He loved you. YOU. The one who comforted him and joked with him and learned how to be human from him.

“I love you!” He yelled out as your long tentacle tongue wrapped around his neck, your teeth inches away from biting down.

“I love you so much it aches! I want to live with you forever! I want to teach you to be human and hug you when you’re sad!” He cried and cried and watched as your own tears fell for your eyes.

Then you bit down.

You screamed in agonizing pain as your only love was ripped from you by yourself. You did this. Your human form came back to you and you slammed you fists on Shoto’s chest.

“I love you so fucking much!”

“I’m so sorry!!! I’m so sorry!! I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry... I’m so—“ your laid your head on his chest and cried and cried and cried.

Shoto’s hands moved to your face and wiped your tears.

“I love you too. You’re wonderful.”

You hugged him tightly crying harder in relief. How was he alive?

“It’s cliché to say that your love woke me up, but look at where we are.”

You look around and a smile made it’s way to your face. You were in the Fountain of Mirrors. The water had already healed Shoto’s neck.

He had tripped into the shallow pool when you were chasing him and you were too worried about him to see that you were surrounded by the water.

“You’re a guardian now. Of the woods, I mean.” You laughed threw your sobs.

“I know. And I will be forever.”

And so, you and Shoto live in the forest of Murder for the rest of the days of the earth. You looked into the mirror to see yourself a beautiful swan, you were no longer Black Chaos, you were White Savior, helping all people away from the fountain instead of gobbling them up.

The End.

#anime #mha drabbles #mha headcanons #mha imagines #mha x reader #mha todoroki #todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto x you #angst #murder #mha fanfiction #monster reader #witch reader #mha todoroki x reader #mha todoroki shouto #shouto todoroki #shoto todoroki

[bubblegum-writes]

quid pro quo

request:  Hello!! I was thinking if you could write something with Katsuki where his s/o is a healer / booster for him and his quirk - basically her healing and quirk boosting abilities work best with quirks that are associated with warm temperatures, she can boost his damage by 75% - in short he has to look after her and stuff because when she boosts his powers she gets weak and so after fights they snuggle with each-other in his dorm 🥺💗 sorry if this is too specific 🥺

A/N: IM SO SORYR LORD HAVE MERCY THIS IS LATE BUT LIFE IS SHIT YA KNOW!!!!! also dont u worry ur pretty little head no need to be sorry! im tryna explore new ways of storytelling so i apologize if this is shit lol. also the italics are gonna be semi-flashback things if that makes sense. AGAAAIIN bnha and katsuki bakugou aren’t mine so copyright go and eat my entire asshole lol. also this aint edited at allllll lol

       For having a quirk that works best with quirks that raise the surrounding temperature or warm temperatures in general, Japan wasn’t the best place for whatever god to put you at when you were born. The temperature could get decently hot during summer, that is true, but the winters can be equally, if not more, brutal. Not only did it affect your quirk, but your entire mood and aura. During these colder months, your classmates felt both the cold winter winds and your sour mood. No matter how hard they tried to cheer you up, they couldn’t help that your body simply wasn’t made for the cold.

      “C’mon, let’s go out and have a snowball fight!” Denki had suggested from his spot on the common room couch. Classes were over for the week and plenty of snow had fallen on the ground for there to be ample fun to be had within it. Mina, Sero,  and Kirishima all hollered in excitement, while the rest of those present either hummed in agreement or moaned in annoyed interest. You, however, didn’t say or even acknowledge the blonde’s suggestion, as you were too busy lying on the floor wrapped in a blanket with multiple heating pads on you. 

      “What about (Y/N)? We don’t want to exclude anyone due to health or quirk conditions!” Tenya nearly shouted as he lectured everyone about the importance of ‘never leaving a man behind’. You briefly smiled and thanked the universe for making Iida so considerate (and even more briefly entertained the idea of going out). You turned yourself and all the blankets around you towards the rest of the group and smiled slightly. It wasn’t lost on anyone that the cold was never kind to you, so they all started coming up with ways for you to enjoy the fun they had planned.

      “We could tape the blanket around you!” Said Tsuyu, pointing to a blushing Sero’s elbows.

      “No, we could get one of those hamster balls, heat it up, and put you in!” Izuku proposed.

      “You stupid fucking extras, I have the best idea,” came a voice that had yet to speak during the whole ordeal. Katsuki was leaning back in one of the couches, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed. Everyone turned silent as they looked towards the explosive man, even you raised your head from the ground to lend your ear to what he had to say. You had yet to notice that he had joined everyone in the common room, assuming he went to workout earlier. “(Y/N), you come out with us and have a good time,” his lips slowly turned into a light-hearted smirk, “Afterwards, I’ll take you to your favorite ramen shop to warm up.”

      Immediately, the room erupted in noises of confusion and elation. Confusion due to the fact that no one else was aware of yours and Katsuki’s certain… relationship and elation due to the fact that everyone could finally go out and play. What you and Katsuki had was a cute relationship, born out of necessity but had grown into something more. He knew that you despised the cold, and that your quirk didn’t work well in it either. He found this out when you two had been partnered one day in a tag-team sparring exercise.

      “Alright, (Y/N) and Bakugou, you guys are going against…” You didn’t bother paying attention to who you were going to battle; all you could focus on was the fact you had been paired with Katuski, your well-kept secret of a crush. You felt your body flush with heat as you searched the training grounds for him. You eventually found him with his eyes already burrowing into yours. You saw the fire within his eyes to be one of anger or maybe even hatred, but you couldn’t have been farther from the truth. You had also caught his eye; sure, you weren’t the most powerful person in the class, but your quirk had the ability to boost those that were at work around you. On top of that, you could also use the same quirk to heal those around you, at the cost of expending your energy and use it to restore another person’s body.

      “Oi, (Y/N), get your ass over here!” Katsuki yelled from across the small area as he waved you over. Shaking your head out of your haze, you jogged over to him with a nearly unnoticeable shyness on your face. “So, I have a strategy and you’d better listen to it!” Katsuki nearly spat in your face. You winced, but during the whole time he was talking, you had to focus everything you had on what he was actually saying, and not on his beautiful red eyes, or his soft-looking hair, or his toned muscles, or his plump li-

      “Did you get all of that?” He taunted with one perfect eyebrow raised. Despite your best efforts, you'd had completely and utterly failed to pay attention to his strategy.

      “Uh, could you give me the short version of it again?” You shyly asked, feeling heat rise to your cheeks.

      “Fine! Long story short, you stay behind me and make sure I don’t get too hurt and I’ll make sure they don’t touch you.” Katsuki started the sentence with a snarl, but by the end, his face had relaxed and his eyes almost held a tenderness to them. You told yourself you were seeing things as you peered into his eyes and just quickly nodded your head. The both of you took your spots on the field, and without noticing one another, you both were glancing out of your peripherals to make sure the other was okay. 

      This was also when you noticed your opponents for this fight.

      “Oh no,” you whispered under your breath. You and Katsuki were up against Shouto and Mina. You weren’t too worried about Mina and her quirk; as long as you could avoid her streams of acid, you were in the clear. Shouto, on the other hand, would be difficult for you to overpower or even avoid. If he hit you with his ice quirk just once, you were almost guaranteed to be done for, for at least the next couple hours. There was fear clearly written on your face as you noticed Shouto, and Katsuki didn’t ignore it. He knew the basics of your quirks and that the cold would inhibit you, and sometimes even harm you far more than a regular person.

      “I need to keep (Y/N) safe,” Katsuki thought as Aizawa started the sparring fight. Part of his mind told him that he thought that because if she went down, most likely, so did he. However, the majority of his conscience told him he thought that for far more romantic and loving reasons.

      “C’mon you fucking extras!” Katsuki yelled and teased as he blasted himself high in the sky, making sure you were moving far away from your guys’ opponents. He focused on Shouto and Mina and tried to decipher what their strategy was. Mina started excreting acid from her body as Shouto started to use his ice quirk to quickly strike you down. You were running as fast as you could from both of them to try to gain as much distance as you could before Katsuki could blow them to smithereens. However, that didn’t quite happen. Shouto had absolutely no ill feelings towards you, but this was a battle he planned on winning. Both he and Mina used as much power as they could muster to ensure that you were out of the fight so they could focus on Katsuki. However, Katsuki realized this too little too late. They would take you down, then focus on him

      “(Y/N)! Watch it!” Katsuki yelled as he lowered himself to the ground close to Shouto and Mina. Despite the short distance between Katsuki and the opposing team, they still focused on you. You only turned around in time to see Shouto’s ice start nearly grasping your feet and ankles; you ran even harder as you nearly hyperventilated trying to run away from him. Katsuki saw the absolute horror in your eyes, and launched himself to stand between you and Shouto and Mina.

      Despite all he had given, he was too late.

      Right after you turned around for the second time, you saw and felt the ice start to curl around your feet. A harsh scream left your lips, which made even Aizawa cringe and almost call off the whole battle. Mina had long stopped her acid attacks to ensure you weren’t hurt by her quirk, but she watched in horror as Shouto slowly encompassed you in ice. Your body convulsed in an almost demonic way, your feet facing outwards as you bent at the waist as the ice crept upwards. Your screams only increased in both volume and levels of anguish as tears started leaving your eyes. You turned towards Shouto to start pleading for him to stop, but he did as soon as he saw your red and teary eyes. The ice had reached your chest at this point and your arms were held by your sides. The pain you felt was extraordinary; your body felt as if it were cracking in every joint and bone it had. The pain was so horrible that as soon as you closed your eyes to blink away the tears, you had no choice but to finally pass out from the pain. 

      “(Y/N)!” Both Mina and Shouto yelled as your head went lip as your body was encased in ice. Shouto ran up to start thawing you, but Katsuki quickly landed and kicked him out of the way.

      “Get out of the way, fucking Half-n-Half!” He snarled at the Todoroki boy. Katsuki gave him one of the most evil looks he could muster before he turned around and put his hands on the ice around you. Hehastily went to work to get you out of the ice as Aizawa started walking (albeit quickly, as he was concerned for his students’ wellbeings) towards you all. The ice quickly melted before the teacher could get to the scene, and before Aizawa could put a word in, Katsuki declared, “I’m taking (Y/N) to Recovery Girl!”

      Before Aizawa or even Shouto or Mina could mouth their opinions, Katuski had melted your body from the ice, picked you up bridal-style, and started sprinting towards the nurses’ office. You were barely holding on to consciousness, but the last thing you saw was Katsuki’s face as he ran to get you help.

      After that terrifying incident, when Katsuki refused to leave your side even after Recovery Girl had given you the all-clear, it became clear to you and most of the class that there was something more to your guys’ relationship than classmates. No one would dare to comment on it for fear of being the object of Katsuki’s anger. Which led to this moment, where the class was gearing up to play in the snow with everyone stealing glances at Katsuki helping you into your snowgear. No one had ever seen him so gentle and the look of pure adoration in his eyes was hard to miss. 

      As soon as everyone was thick with layers and looked like plush, colored marshmallows, the class ran from the common room to the outside where the fluffy white flakes had created a plush playground for them. Small cheers and whoops erupted as everyone went their separate ways, with Momo and Ochako starting to build a snowman with Mezo using his multiple hands to grab as much snow as possible to add to the growing pile. Denki and Eijiro had started a snowball fight between them and Shouto and Izuku, and Fumikage and Toru had started building an igloo. 

      You, however, were shivering out of your socks. You and Katsuki had barely made it out of the doors before you stopped in your tracks.

      “Tch, come on, have some fun with these losers,”  Katsuki murmured in your ear, causing shivers to run up your spine, “and I’ll let you be the big spoon for once.”

      You immediately ran to join the nearest group of classmates faster than you could say, “Really?” Throughout the day, you spent quality time with most everyone in the class. Truth be told, they were happy to see you come out of your comfort zone and actually enjoy all the weather had to offer. You even forgot why you were out in the cold in the first place, you were having so much fun! However, as the sun flew threw the sky and evening became night, everyone finally tuckered out and retired back to the dorms. As everyone else went to their respective rooms, you and Katsuki gathered in his.

      He knew that spending time in the cold would make you tired and possibly even sore because of your quirk, but he always remembered how to make you feel better again. Usually, it was a bath that he had prepared, scorching hot with a bath bomb or two, take-out, and whatever was on Netflix that fit the mood. Today was no different; as you warmed up and chilled out in the bath, Katsuki called your favorite ramen shop and ordered your favorite item for delivery. After a while, you came out of the bathroom with your pajamas on and a face mask upon your face. He smiled, a smile only reserved for you, a soft and gentle smile he was, quite frankly, scared to show anyone else. You scuffled over to his bed and joined him under his blankets, and quickly wrapped yourself in his arms. Artificial heat didn’t compare to heat produced by a human, especially that of Katsuki. Quickly forgetting both the incoming ramen and your face mask, you fell asleep in his arms as he traced meaningless patterns over your back and scratched your scalp gently. Well, they might have been meaningless to you, but he was consciously drew the characters for “I love you” deep in your skin, just in case you would ever forget.  

#bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha x y/n #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bnha fluff #katsuki fluff #my writing

[genesisrose74]

HEY BAE OK CAN I GET AN AESTHETIC MATCHUP??? FOR MHA??? IDK HOW TO DESCRIBE MY VIBES BUT IDK I THINK YOU KNOW ME P WELL AND YOU’VE SEEN ME BUT I’LL TELL YOU SOME STUFF: love love love piercings and tattoos! My closet (aside from work clothes) consists of mostly black, brown, gray, white, orange, and red and i like being scary goth sexy awooga😏😏 for music I LOVEEE midwest emo and pop punk but i’m also a total sucker for like indie folk and just vibey flowey music? idk how to describe it but it’s! so! good! my favorite animals are cows and i’m suPer into windmills. i think peak relationship/friendship is bullying the fuck out of each other like straight up cruelty but loving the absolute shit out of each other <3 i like to tease my friends and in person i’m pretty quiet and sarcastic (i’ve heard i’m rude and intimidating if u don’t know me :|) but i am also sweet asf. ok i know this isn’t a vibe matchup but i feel the need to clarify i can be super loud and energetic w my friends but i’m a big mf introvert and people always tell me i have a scowl on my face😐😐 i get asked what’s wrong so often for no reason pls i’m just trying to exist — i’m trying to think of more aesthetics uhhh. i’ll just list specific niche things.“under eye bags and dark circles, calling someone a dumbass with adoration, cigarettes in the dark, cold pavement on your feet early morning, walking in a forest at night, dim lighting and smoky rooms, a laugh filled kiss in secret, music playing in headphones way too loud, impulsive piercings, pushing your s/o around in a shopping cart, laughing too loud, playing with lighters, hair in bubble pigtails or double braids, hiding from the cops” ‼️‼️‼️

RAMSEY MY BELOVED!! When I tell you I was so incredibly excited to write your matchup I hope you take that at its full value because oh my gosh my brain exploded with all the possibilities here. There’s a couple options I think that could have suited you (because your vibe is incredibly chill and fun so it meshes well with a lot of characters), but in the end I without a doubt had to match you up with...

I swear that this shit is not even pandering because I know you’ve got a soft spot for this man — he is the ideal person for you. And in the slim,, almost nonexistent chance that you don’t want this reliable, lovable, dorky dumbass by your side, I will personally step in to take your place because good heavens is he just incredible.

Denki is loud and energetic most of the time, although he does have his share of mellow and sometimes more serious moments. He absolutely adores being around other people, and that sociable attitude is only emphasized when he’s around his closest friends. If you have a bit of trouble meshing with a group or a specific conversation, Denki will notice pretty damn quick and do whatever he can to make you feel comfortable and/or involved.

And if it’s lovable insults you want, he can and will provide. My man is friends with Bakugo Katsuki and the iconic Kyouka Jiro, so he knows how to take a roast and then jab right back if he so pleases. He’ll call you a dumbass in so many subtle ways that it would almost be hurtful if you both didn’t love each other to pieces (which you do), and the fact that you retort with an even sharper tongue makes him incredibly happy. Oh, and if he ever thinks he’s overstepped a line regarding your comfort zone, he won’t hesitate to apologize sincerely.

Denki is canonically a HUGE music fan. That space in his head that was supposed to be for academic knowledge instead harbors extensive information on pop culture and entertainment, and he loves sharing new things with you. Punk? Rock? Indie? He’ll have a taste of it all in his multiple playlists on Spotify Premium. Man turns up his headphone volume so loud that you’re confused as to how he isn’t deaf yet. If you’re having a rough day, he puts those big chunky (noise blocking!) ones over your ears and kisses the top of your head, tossing you his phone and letting you pick any song of preference.

Y’all have mandatory vibe parties in his dorm room every week. They can last as long as five hours without breaks. FIVE FUCKING HOURS. There’s snacks, you help pick out the songs in the queue, and someone nearly breaks an ankle during a transition from Mom Jeans’ “Edward 40hands” into The Oh Hellos’ “Bitter Water” but it’s all good in the end. He’s definitely a hype man too, so expect to dissolve into fits of laughter at his energized attempts to cheer you on.

Oh, he can also play electric guitar, so do with that information what you will. Just kidding, I’ll help boost your imagination a little bit: him teaching you the chords to a song you love while sitting in between his legs on the common room couch. With his fingers just barely grazing over your own as he guides you through. Send tweet.

I just know he doesn’t have a stable sleep schedule, so prep your night owl ass for some late night dorm sneak-in shenanigans and a few deep conversations to follow it. Do you both sometimes fall asleep on the floor of each other’s rooms at 3 am? Yeah...sometimes y’all share three brain cells combined, but it simply adds to your charm.

You make runs off campus together all the time, too! It’s a known fact around the Class 1-A dorm that you both love volunteering for monthly grocery shopping, but everyone finds it hard to trust the sound decision-making of you dorks after the incident — otherwise known as you and Denki spending a good fraction of the school-provided food funds on multiple random snack brands. ‘It was a one time thing,’ you insist, and since no one else wants to go on the grocery store trek they’re inclined to believe it. Some classmates were more excited about that particular event than others (although Kaminari swears on his vintage record collection that he saw Iida indulge himself on a pack of Pretz), so it’s become a regular thing for students to include a couple snack requests on their shopping list.

To sum it up, Denki makes sure that every day is never completely boring, and his primary payment comes in the occasional glimpse of your smile — and maybe a little kissy if that’s okay (yes, he literally says kissy 😘, istg punch him in the stomach or something he’s so fucking dumb). He’s charming in a stupid, dorky way, but so sincere where it counts that you can’t help but love him at all times. He’d love your ass so much and I just know it in my bones that he’d take care of you, throughout all of the stupid shit you experience together.

#genesisrose 1k event #matchup event #aesthetic matchup #my hero academia matchups #denki kaminari #ikigaitooru #ramsey!!

[cross-d-a]

I want to know ALL about Wu Xie embarrassing time traveler!Li Cu!!! ✨✨ I'm also v intrigued by Nie Huisang death death death

(Also, Cross you have so many wips; I read in awe. And to think I thought I had a lot of star wars fix-it ideas! I only have anything at all written down for two of them!)

(this refers to the WIP tag game I completed a few days ago!)

Wu Xie being EMBARRASSING & Li Cu Time Travel: 

I’ve got a series of interconnected oneshots planned where Li Cu just- accidentally hops back in time to every drama/book and helps out the Iron Triangle. and it’s more like LI CU embarrassing WU XIE haha

I thought it’d be HILARIOUS if Li Cu got to see how Wu Xie (UR MY DAD BOOGIE WOOGIE WOOGIE) is so YOUNG and STUPID and EMBARRASSING when he’s young!! Wu Xie making (ACTUALLY) innocent doe eyes at an emo Xiao Ge?? GROSS. Wu Xie accidentally (DELIBERATELY?) setting off multiple traps in a tomb?? Li Cu is 10000/10 going to RECORD THIS on his phone and bring it BACK to the future and make fun of Wu Xie FOREVER. Also!!! There are SO MANY SNAKES in Ultimate Note!! And?? Conveniently?? Li Cu has a lil’ snake buddy?? MAYBE HE COULD HELP??? 

I basically want Li Cu being the Actual Competent One and the baby Iron Triangle floundering. Mostly Wu Xie. I want Wu Xie floundering. I also want Wu Xie SO EMBARRASSED when Li Cu hops back to his own time. 

li cu: DAD UR AN IDIOT 

wu xie: i DONT WANT TO RELIVE IT PLS AND THANK 

li cu: nO!! U ARE GOING TO SUFFER!! UR SO STUPID u set off FIVE TRAPS

wu xie: i hate you 

li cu: no u don’t u just told me u loved and appreciated me for saving ur life like ten minutes ago. there were tears in your eyes. actually they were streaming down ur face. u might have been hugging my leg and sobbing

wu xie: tHAT WAS SIXTEEN YEARS AGO FOR ME OK i am an OLD MAN

Nie Huaisang death death death:

I think it’s hilarious that you picked out one of the resurrective immortality fics considering we were JUST talking about the old guard hahaha. This one I actually have a good chunk written so far, so here is a long snippet near the beginning. Context is that Nie Huaisang’s mother is VERY pregnant and she’s riding through the mountains to visit her family before she gives birth. WARNINGS for gore (kinda??) and child death and just- DEATH in general:

There are beasts in the mountains. Ravenous, born of fury and blood, more ragged spirit than flesh. Their claws are jagged and broken and their maws drip with sizzling saliva. They have roamed the mountains for years and years, and have only grown more enraged, voracious.

The Nie Clan have always harnessed the butchery of their past. Binding rage and ruin to themselves, channeling it through their hearts and into their swords until they are one and the same. Until it feeds upon their flesh and their spirit, gnawing on their bones, carving out a little space for itself between brittle ribs. Until, one bloody piece at a time, it consumes them whole.

The Nie Clan’s power is also the source of their doom, and these beasts who roam and know only hate hate hate are Nie-furen’s doom, as well.

They descend upon the Nie in the dead of night, a roiling mass of snapping teeth and furious howls. There is blood, screaming, desperate flashes of Dao magic and heavy blades. But there are too many and it is not enough.

But the mighty Phoenix of the West has always been filled with unmatched fury and she is full of new life and about to burst. She will not let her child die here today. Not before he can breathe sweet fresh air and keen that first high cry. Not before his father can cradle him in his arms and his older brother can plant a kiss on his forehead.

That rage within her swells. It devours her spirit and bleeds out her eyes as she screams screams screams- a raging beacon of power and brutality and every ancestor’s grief.

She slaughters everything in her path.

When she comes to, she is soaked in blood and there is pain in her belly and an ache behind her eyes and in every breath- but she is alive. She lies amidst the ruins of her people and the lingering darkness of vanquished spirits and Shan Xifeng—

She goes into labour.

It is long and hard, lasting through the night into the bloody dawn and beyond. She manages to crawl to the edge of their encampment but no further. She twists into a curl of agony and cries into the clouded sky.

Her son is born on the cusp of evening, just as the sun slides behind dark, ragged peaks. He is born soft and warm and silent.

Shan Xifeng cradles him in quaking hands. Cups his cheek to her breast. His tiny head is blood-streaked like his mother. Blood-streaked like her friends and family around her.

It is an irony that on one of the most important days of her life, she is surrounded by her loved ones and yet they are all dead.

“Little one,” she murmurs, and tilts his limp head. “Little one, please.”

But he is silent as the dead around her and that grief swells again in her breast. It gnaws on her ribs and scrabbles at her throat and she is shaking shaking shaking.

“No,” she spits. “No! He has done nothing wrong! Nothing! Does he not deserve his first breath? His first cry? Does he not deserve the family that awaits him?!”

She screams into the sky and tastes blood between her teeth. “Take me instead! I beg of you! Please let him live! I would give my life! Every single one of them, so that he may live!”

Her sword quakes along with that dark raging thing within her and she clutches her dead son close.

Then—

The faint, elegant curve of a fan in the corner of her eye. The shift of cloth, the echo of a breath. The glimmering of ethereal gold and silver, like someone has spun the stars and sun above into delicate thread.

Summoned, like a beast to blood.

“All of them?”

Shan Xifeng knows better than to face an unknowable thing and so she bows as low as her broken body will allow. She stares into the bloodied dirt and breathes in dust and rasps, “Yes.”

“Hm.” A flicker of a stretching smile, coy, with a hint of sharp teeth. She does not see the fathomless dark behind those stark white teeth, a gaping void of ravenous benevolence. It is hidden behind the flare of the fan. “Do you understand what you ask for?”

“I do,” she says without hesitation.

The grin widens, lips scarlet and dark against bone-white skin. “Then I shall grant your wish.”

A shift of cloth, then a cool hand cups Nie-furen’s cheek, guiding her up. Her eyes flicker open and she sees what no mortal has ever seen, and then that fan whispers against her cheek and blood-red lips press against hers and the last thing she feels is her golden core trembling spasming dying as life is pulled from her breath- all the lives she has ever lived, the one she lives now, and every life she could have ever lived.

Shan Xifeng falls into the bloodied dirt beneath, still clutching her dead son to her breast. And then there is no one left living in that small clearing.

Pale, bony fingers trace a delicate line through the blood that lingers upon her cheek. It is still wet and useful. Stained fingers press against scarlet lips and the life held between stark white teeth is breathed anew into that blood.

Carefully, bone-thin fingers trace a deliberate character upon the newborn child’s left cheek. The blood shines, brilliant and devastating, before fading back into a gruesome name across pale skin. Slowly, the child begins to twitch, brows wrinkling in displeasure, before a high keening wail escapes tiny lips as the child take its first breath.

“Your mother does not know what she’s doomed you to.”

A day later, travelers upon the road hear a faint keening noise not far from their wagon. When they find the clearing, they gag and retch. When they find the weak, whining child clutched in his dead mother’s arms, they shake their heads and then stare at the crest emblazoned upon the woman’s clothes.

Two days after that, the child is delivered to Nie-zongzhu’s disbelieving arms.

“No,” he says, violent spirit quaking deep within him. “No. It- it is not true.”

The traveler ducks his head and clasps his hands in a bow. “I’m sorry, Zongzhu. We were not able to take the bodies with us. You’ll have to send someone to check, but…it was the crest of your house. And…” he hesitates, then nods to his companion who stumbles up and offers a sword.

Not just any sword. A dao.

Shan Xifeng’s dao.

Feng.

“No,” Nie-zongzhu cries, falling to his knees.

“I-I’m so sorry,” the traveler stutters. “I am so, so sorry, Nie-zongzhu.”

Nie-zongzhu sobs, clutching his newborn child to his chest. “Little one,” he weeps. “Oh, little one. At least life is kind enough to have spared you.”

“Yong,” the traveler blurts.

Nie-zongzhu stares uncomprehendingly, tears running hot down his cheeks.

“It- it was written upon his cheek in- in blood. I- I think that is what his mother named him. She must have done it with her dying breath. She must have wanted you to know. He did not enter this world nameless.”

“Yong,” Nie-zongzhu echoes, trembling. “It- it is a good name, for my brave little boy.” He cups his son’s cheek and sobs. “Brave like- like his mother,” he murmurs, voice thin and quaking. “She named you well.”

And perhaps it is bravery that made Shan Xifeng give up the chance to ever be reborn. Perhaps it is bravery that saved her son’s life.

But it was all a mother’s wretched love, and Shan Xifeng did not write the character for brave upon her son’s cheek.

No, it was not Yong for bravery, but Yong for eternal.

And it is not his mother who wrote it.

Perhaps it is bravery that saved her son, but is the curse of eternity really a kindness?

No, no Shan Xifeng did not truly understand what she asked for.

But Nie Yong soon would.

The next section starts with:

The second time Nie Yong dies, he doesn’t even realize it.

He is four years old.

and the third section starts with:

The third time Nie Yong dies, his Adie kills him.

He is nine years old.

It’s basically an Angst Fest with a happy ending bc...I just need a happy ending Always. I just REALLY love resurrective immortality and I love making my favourite characters Suffer :)

I hope these were fun and satisfying to read!! 

♪(ﾟ▽^*)ﾉ⌒☆

(also omg NO it’s a CURSE!!! I WISH I could just finish SOMETHING!! ANYTHING!! OMG!!! I am so envious you’ve managed to restrain yourself to a few!! Also!! I am SUPER excited to find out more about your fix-its!!! :D)

#tag game #my fic #cross talks #wip tag game #ask game

[just-horrible-things]

‘Verse: Kethrys ( @khalwrites ) Timeline: around halfway through Ariadne’s captivity

---

Unprompted

His hand catches her shoulder, and for just a heartbeat an older reflex rises. For just a heartbeat, she somehow doesn’t recognise his touch. Somehow she doesn’t remember her place, and she shrugs irritably out of his grip.

The realisation of what she has done is ice water, drenching her head to toe and stealing her breath. She is already turning, stepping back to see who grabbed her and why. She drops hard to her knees, and barely feels the impact with the flagstones.

She can’t breathe. No. She was trying so hard, how did she forget something so simple. She was trying to obey him, respect him, do everything right. No, not again, not already...

She folds forwards over her knees, pressing her forehead and her palms to the stone as if she could disappear into it. Agony throbs in her skull, and too-recent memory crawls painfully across her skin.

“I’m so, so sorry, Yo-our Majesty,” she stammers. The room, no, the world has shrunk to encompass just her and the King. She couldn’t care less about the many eyes watching. All that matters is her King. “I’m so sorry I-I acted without thinking I di-idn’t mean to disrespect you Your Majesty, I swear!”

She can’t do it, she can’t face the torture again, she can’t. She knows she’s pathetic, but terror has its claws around her lungs and she just can’t.

“Please, Your Majesty.” He hasn’t even said anything and she’s on the verge of crying. He hasn’t told her to beg, but maybe, maybe it will amuse him enough to earn a little mercy. “Please, please forgive me, I-I know better but please, have mercy, please don’t punish me, Your Majesty, I’m sorry!”

Her pleas fall into stony silence. Face down at his feet she cannot see his reaction, cannot search his face for cues.

“I beg you, Your Majesty,” she whines, “please -- have mercy, please?” She can’t continue in the face of his presumed disapproval. She cowers, struggling to breathe.

“Mercy?” he asks at last, voice soft and cold. “Forgiveness? Look at me.”  The order lifts her head as surely as a tug on a chain. She meets his cruel gaze, and feels tears gather in her own eyes. “How long have you been in my service.” “I’ve served here i-in the castle for forty-seven days, Your Majesty.” That answer, at least, she knows, and she is desperately glad of the time spent obsessively counting the days. His Majesty stares her down in silence, then begins to pace. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” Ariadne breathes. Just a whisper, but he shoots her a warning look and she quails. She can hold her tongue.

Back and forth in front of her he paces, and she watches. Look at me, he said, so she resists the urge to curl over her knees again and cower. Her breath stutters and catches in her lungs, too fast but she can’t breathe deeper. She barely registers the sniggers of the onlookers. She has eyes only for her King. 

At last he speaks again. “Have I not been merciful in that time? Have I not been forgiving of your multiple failures and shortcomings? Have I not given you every opportunity to improve and better yourself?” She can find no humour in the absurdity. Merciful. Forgiving. He asks the impossible and he hangs her from broken arms when she cannot comply. He whips her until she cannot lift her head and then forgives her for failing to do so.

But the truth is irrelevant. He’s feeding her her lines, and she recites obediently. “You have been merciful, Your Majesty, you've gi-iven me so many o-opportunities, you give me so many kindnesses, I-I'm so very grateful for your generosity Your Majesty.”

“Such a simple thing to forget, wouldn’t you agree Ariadne? It is beyond disrespectful for you to shrug off your king like he is some lowly servant, is it not?” I didn’t know it was you. But she knows better than to give excuses. “I-it is, I-I -- I’m mortified.” He’s not going to let it slide. He’s going to make her ask for pain, and she’s going to get it. Tears slip down her cheeks. “I-it’s u-unacceptable Your Majesty, I’m so, so sorry.” “And for some reason, you believe you deserve forgiveness?” She cringes. She keeps her eyes on his, showing him every ounce of her misery. “No, Your Majesty. I-I don’t deserve your forgiveness, Your Majesty.” Just please, please let me have it anyway. Please, let me appease you, let me amuse you, but please no more torture. She doesn’t dare voice half the thoughts. “I-I I o-only beg you,” she falters, “I know I don’t deserve it...”

“What do you deserve?” A little whimper. “I deserve punishment, Your Majesty, for disrespecting you, Your Majesty.” He’s going to make her beg for it. “Are you sure?” His tone is withering, condemning.

There’s no use fighting it. He will have what he wants from her, be it pleas or screams. Her desperate hope for mercy dies. “I-I deserve to be punished, Your Majesty,” she recites. “I’m so sorry, ple-ease, please punish me, please teach me the, the respect I lack, Your Majesty.”

He crouches down in front of her. His fingers touch her jaw, trace along the bone to her chin, and tilt it up. She is giving him every scrap of willpower she has, just keeping herself from flinching away. Agony will bloom in her skull any second now. -- please -- run her thoughts. -- please please please don’t I’m trying so hard I do everything you say please -- She knows he can hear, but she can’t quiet her desperation. -- please please don’t hurt me please don’t please don’t please--

“Ariadne.” He uses the gentle tone this time, the false concern that fools so many, used to fool her… “You admitted yourself that it was an accident.” Hope is painful in her chest as it flares back to life. “Ye-es Your Majesty.” She’s so scared that he’ll snatch it away again. She knows he’s yanking her chain, she knows he’s playing her emotions for his own twisted entertainment, but all she wants, all she wants -- please please please Majesty please I’m so scared -- is to appease. Here is all her desperation, here is every pathetic scrap laid bare. -- please take it please let it be enough don’t demand agony as well please --

“You’re tired.” His hand brushes down the side of her neck and settles on her shoulder. “I think mercy is what you deserve.” She outright whimpers. Hope and fear are so sharp, razor wire pulled taut between her gut and the back of her throat. -- mercy? for real? please please please say it’s real please Majesty please --! “You need to rest.” His smile is so warm, so well-practiced, not a hint of the terrible power beneath. “You are dismissed, Ariadne. Don’t be late for the council tomorrow.”

Her heartbeat trips over itself. For a moment she doesn’t dare believe she heard him right. Dismissed. No punishment? Mercy? Her head spins. “Oh thank you,” she sobs, “thank you, thank you Your Majesty, you are so kind, thank you so much Majesty, I’m so grateful.” His magic tingles across her skin, the familiar touch of healing. It takes her a second to even realise what he’s healing -- the barely-registered ache in her knees where she hit them hard on the stone. “Thank you, Your Majesty,” she repeats earnestly. “Thank you.” “You’re welcome, Ariadne.”

She doesn’t move until he lifts his hand from her shoulder. As he stands, she bows again, touching her head to the stone, feeling her hair brush against his boots. Her legs shake as she gets back to her feet, checking his face all the way to make sure that her permission is not rescinded.

She’s allowed almost all the way to the door before he calls her back.

“Ariadne.”  The sharp undertone sends a fresh rush of terror up her spine. She turns obediently, heart stopped. All eyes are on her. Maliq. Sir Moros. Lady Rielyn. Others. The way they smirk and sneer will haunt her later, but for now they still don’t matter. Only the King matters. His gaze pins her to the floor, and she almost drops to her knees again. “Don’t forget my mercy,” His Majesty smiles. “Have a good night’s rest.” “Thank you, Your Majesty,” she breathes. “I won’t, Your Majesty, thank you.”

She backs out of the door, bowing all the way. And then she turns and she runs, bolting back to her room before anyone can follow her out. 

Not that running can save her, if the King wants to play.

#my writing #my ocs #others' ocs #verse: kethrys #ariadne #kethrys!ariadne #king edwyn altair #abuse of authority tw #begging tw #kneeling tw #torture mention #mind games tw #telepathy #conditioning tw #humiliation tw #nonconsensual touch tw

[bytedykes]

god j*ces behaviour in s1 (and in general but s1 in particular) irks me so much !!!! even from like ep1 where he’s like “you know what alec? dial it down a notch 😐” when his boss (and elder) is like this does NOT add up. how he uses clary to be like “oh IM not being bad if SHE wants to go to the silent brothers :3 she doesn’t know it’s bad so again i have a scapegoat” or how he ignores alec trying to put some sense into him multiple times (city of bones, that graveyard part, the du mort roof) and how he YELLS at his superior ?????

this man is like i want to be ur panasonic <3 probs just so he can use that bond to side step authority “oh no he’s my other half he knows me and my intentions!! i’m going to break the law”

and DONT get me started on the whole “u treat him like lap dog” and he doesn’t even TRY TO DENY IT ??? just “takes one to know one :)” @ simon and i’m like......... u .... admit u like him for the legal mobility he gives u and his genuine loyalty..... and then he literally calls him like “yeah i get mayrse and robert need me back at the institute but i need YOU here to make me look good infront of the ginger i want to get with”......

(simon was justified in smacking him around that episode he at least knows what it means to care about ur friends without them existing to benefit u)

god i could go on all day about it... i mean i guess kudos to d*m for making it so easy to hate the blondie..... even then.... the whole mess with meliorn where he’s like I KNOW WHATS BETTER !!!! when he straight up didn’t know anything that was going on (lydia being there AT ALL, how alec and izzy had to take political slaps to the face) and then acting like alec was doing it all to antagonise him when jace only knows 2 things in his little pea brain: be an adrenaline junkie and be Terrible In Bed.

(thank u for entertaining me i’m writing a massive 2.5k essay and need something to yell about so that my writing is coherent <3 and i hope ur having a good day as well :3 - mitski anon)

AAUGH THIS ASK <33 I LOVE IT

gonna try to answer this somewhat cohesively but sorry if i fail 😩

ugh YEAH lmao like !!! alec is the acting head !! alec is also his older brother and parabatai!! for all purposes alec is the leader of this whole thing, he runs the place, this is ALEC'S institute. and jace just ?? does not give a shit and shows no respect to him whatsoever <3 bc thats how u treat ur boss 🤪

(even if alec WASNT the acting head hes still jaces older brother and listen i have siblings i know what we're like, even then jace has no respect and constantly pulls things and holds them over alec like !!! he uses the parabatai bond and the benefits it gives him to target alecs insecurities and just directly undermine him and UHGHG hate this bitch so much its unreal !!!)

YEAH LIKE i know i keep saying this but alec is trained for this he is literally the institute head HE'S the one with all the political training and he's the one who leads the communications with the clave and he's the one who all the fallout will land on when jace does the shit he does!!! and bc he loves his family he'll shield jace from the consequences !!! aaauagrrrrrgh

and i've said it before too but i can give clary some leeway regarding disrespecting and not listening to alec bc she's in a new world and she doesn't know their rules or customs (dont get me wrong she still absolutely acts batshit stupid and should listen to alec and MAKE AN EFFORT to learn wtf is going on and let the responsible ppl handle the situation, but she at least has an excuse) BUT JACE IS A BORN AND RAISED SHADOWHUNTER!!! HE'S SUPPOSED TO BE THE BEST FIGHTER OF HIS GENERATION OR W/E!!! HE SHOULD KNOW BETTER!!

alec is like: this is a bad idea and it will directly affect my reputation as a soldier and a leader, and if you take 5 minutes to listen to me i can provide at least 3 safer, legal alternatives, that will get results just as (if not more) efficiently

and jace is like um sorry did u say smth? no nvm i dont care goodbyeee

he really said "i know it's illegal and alec will have to deal with the results of what i'm about to do bUT IT'S THE RIGHT THINGGGG who gives a shit about rules or any semblance or order!!!"

jace goes "im a REAL SHADOWHUNTER i know our rules and laws and customs so i can INTENTIONALLY ignore them and break them ON PURPOSE!!!"

jace only knows 2 things in his little pea brain: be an adrenaline junkie and be Terrible In Bed. -> ASLDFKJ I COULDNT HAVE SAID IT BETTER ANON 😩😩

izzy should also know better but she at least makes the barest minimum of effort and tries to take some of the weight off alec lol, meanwhile jace is like "YOU LOST CLARY???" as if clary didn't purposefully evade alec and run away asdfhewfkdlsjhjks

simon smacking jace around rights!!! shoutout to simon for being an actually good friend and overall likeable person 😩 unlike SOME PEOPLE hwjkhsfkdd

omg goodluck on your essay anon!!! dang i should probably work on my hw too but im not for some reason hfsjskk

#btw i reread laudanum the other day and 🎶first things first‚ get what you deserve🎶 #my day has just started but its been going ok so far! :)<3 #asks #anon #min #sh #anti jace wayland #anti parabatai bond #salt #misc

[kpopmoonz]

Love Language

A/n: don’t mind the names I used for the girl friends… u can change them to your liking… I just love Park Ji-min and the name ”Yejin”. Long post ahead!

Summary:

Minghao loved showering you with presents, but really all you needed was his warm hugs and kisses

Or

He thinks it’s receiving gifts, actually it was physical touch.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

For quite some time now you and minghao have been going out with each other. You’ve enjoyed the shopping trips you’ve had as well as the little gifts he’d always give you. Others would say he’s spoiling you but for some time now you’ve been feeling the opposite. At first you ignored the feeling and assumed it was just a small issue within yourself, but it came to a point where you just weren’t satisfied.

It was your 1 year anniversary and of course, minghao had given you the best present ever. It was a minimal yet elegant gold plated necklace that had his birthstone and yours as a pendant. Engraved in the back was your pet name “宝贝” (bao bei I.e. baby) alongside the date of your anniversary. You loved the necklace and wore it the moment you got it out of its box.

But this was more so the reason you felt guilty you were having such negative feelings over your relationship. The rest of the night, you enjoyed the peaceful view of Seoul under the glimmering light of the stars and moon above you with good food, music, and the love of your life.

The next morning, minghao who had stayed over for the night was nowhere to be seen. You were saddened you didn’t get to wake up to his peaceful figure still sleeping snuggly under your blankets, but you knew this was what you signed up for after accepting the hallyu star’s proposal. You groggily got up and out of bed to the nearest mirror, which was hanging by your study desk. You admired the shining cold chain around your neck and played with the pendant hanging just above your collar bones before you sighed and moved to the kitchen for some breakfast.

For a moment, you were shocked to find a plate of your favorite breakfast cling wrapped on top of the counter. It held a little note filled with your boyfriend’s handwriting, “good morning baobei ❤️, sorry I had to leave early. Here’s a little something to compensate,” It read. You giggled at the little emojis he managed to draw around the text before taking the plate and reheating it in the microwave. While waiting, you went back into your room to retrieve your phone. Walking back to the kitchen, you found he left multiple messages for you in your CaoCao chat.

“Good morning 😘”

“Did you see the meal I prepared for you?”

“Sorry I didn’t get to serve it to you personally :((“

“I couldn’t be late for our rehearsal.”

“We’ve got a busy day ahead so I might not be able to message you soon.”

“I’ll make up for it! Promise!”

“Got to go now baobei.”

“I love you!”

You smiled to yourself taking in his sweetness before replying to his messages.

“Good morning! 🥰”

“I was sad I didn’t get to see you when I woke up :((“

“I found what you made! I love it! Thank you!”

“Don’t worry! Work hard for carats and me 🥰”

“I’ll be watching you hehe”

“I love you too!”

Just as you finished, the microwave dinged and your plate was ready. Sitting by the counter you enjoyed the meal he prepared for you and even sent a picture of you enjoying it to minghao. After a few minutes he replied to you with a video of him in the practice room with the other members greeting you and telling you not to be sad anymore as well as urging you to visit them soon. You laughed at their cuteness and sent a quick reply, “don’t worry! I’m okay! Have a safe practice :)) I’ll visit soon.” Before eating up the rest of your meal.

After cleaning up you walked to your little veranda by the living room and stared out the glass doors. Where your little friend, your pet cat (your and minghao’s baby), came up to you and purred against your leg. “Oh, I’m alright.” You tell her, picking her up. She snuggled into your embrace as she continued to purr loudly. You sighed out the window before whispering, “am I really though?”

___

A few hours later, you found yourself in a little coffee shop a few minutes away from your apartment in comfortable clothes. You wore grey joggers, soft rubber shoes, and one of minghao’s hoodies. Your fingers circled the tip of your mug as you waited for your friends to arrive. Like you, they weren’t wearing flashy clothes.

“Yah, why’d we need to meet up here?” Yejin, a close friend of yours who was also a known icon whispered over to you as she took the seat in front of you. “Ah, sorry.” You softly smiled ashamed to tell her you couldn’t stand being in your apartment right now as it felt like a jail cell.

You two started chatting waiting for your other friend to arrive. “So, why the sudden meeting?” Yejin asked, peering into your face with suspicion. She knew you wouldn’t call your two friends together unless it was a dire emergency. And she was right about that, but you didn’t want to spill without jimin park. “I’ll tell you later~” you insisted before changing the topic, “before me, how’ve you been? It’s been awhile.”

Yejin goes on and tells you about her life and career endeavors before Jimin (park) finally walks through the entrance. She was in the same comfortable outfit, and would almost look unrecognizable but her bubbly and shiny personality was still striking. She greets the both of you and orders her drink before getting settled beside yejin. When she finally does, you spill the tea.

You started off with telling them how much you love minghao and all that he’s done for you, the good of your relationship, and all the happy times you’ve both had before slowly pouring out your heart’s discontentment.

“I just... I honestly don’t know if it’s me or if it’s the season... or honestly if it’s just cause we aren’t compatible with each other you know!?” You told them at a loss. They both look at you with empathetic eyes and tells you how valid your feelings were. They too know the struggle of dating in your situation and lifestyle and can’t help but relate. However, when you asked about what you could do about it, they started throwing questions at you to get a better grip at the situation.

“How have you been treating him?”

“How has he been treating you?”

“Are these feelings new or has it been there for some time now?”

“When did this begin?”

“How have you been coping with it?”

And the golden question, “have you told your boyfriend yet?”

You answered all these honestly but carefully knowing people might be eavesdropping on your conversation. When the girls finally gathered the information they needed, they concluded a third party to the conversation was needed. Specifically someone without bias to you just to balance out the discussion — thankfully Jimin was ahead of this.

Jimin tells you to wait for them to arrive and to consider inviting the group to relocate to your apartment as the arriving guest may cause a bigger stir than the three of your presence combined. You didn’t understand where the suggestion came from, but as Vernon entered your sight, you knew completely why you needed to change venues.

So you did.

Back at your apartment you were greeted by your loud kitty meowing for attention. Yejin was quick to act on it as you lead your other guests to your living room. They all made themselves at home quickly getting comfortable on the sofas or the carpet.

Jimin gave Vernon an accurate and precise recap of what you had just shared and he nodded his head as he processed the information. Vernon was quick to read the atmosphere and for some time he met up with you and minghao, he sensed it already. What Jimin shared was just confirming his hunch.

You hugged a sofa pillow tightly against your chest waiting for the boy to speak.

“I know, I’m younger, and I might be wrong but...” Vernon started, which was replied to by yejin with, “don’t worry! Speak your mind,” encouragingly.

So the boy did.

“Well. For one I don’t think it’s the end of you and minghao-hyung,” Vernon tells you. He was looking directly at you with a serious expression, “I know how much hyung loves you and how much you love him. I mean before I was sent home all minghao hyung did was worry about how you were doing because he left you alone.”

You were touched by his acknowledgment and listened closely to what he had left to say, “Honestly Minghao-hyung is a guy you can easily talk to...Tell him about how you feel and I’m sure he’ll listen. In fact, he’ll know you better and it’ll do the both of you more good than bad,” he advised, “if you hadn’t noticed, Minghao hyung is a guy who finds it quite easy to cut off any ties with people especially those who aren’t clear on what they want from him, but honestly noona, Minghao-hyung would never give up on you,” he revealed.

“So, my final is: be frank with him. Tell him what you want from him, he’ll act on it. Trust me.”

You thanked him and your friends for helping as you felt a lot better now.

For the rest of the day, the four of you decided to play games on your console and enjoy a few light drinks just for the heck of it.

Before leaving, Vernon gave you a hug and told you to not worry about it too much. After one last goodbye you quickly asked why the boy was sent home early, “oh! I was given a free pass since it was my birthday.” He chuckled.

Your eyes grew big at the news and quickly screamed, “oh my gosh! Happy birthday! Sorry you wasted your day here!”

Vernon shook his head and smiled, “no! Don’t worry! This was better than spending it alone at the dorm anyways!” Before walking out of your sight.

It took a couple of weeks for Minghao to come home but when he did it was a whole day off making the wait worth it. Playing with your pendant, a habit you developed when you're nervous, you were sat on your sofa with your kitty purring loudly against your stomach as she curled in a snug ball on your lap. You heard the keypad of your door chime signaling minghao had finally arrived. You jumped in your seat waking your pet who quickly hurried off to find a new napping spot.

Minghao greeted you with a big smile as you did the same. He wrapped his arms around you and hugged you tightly before placing a soft kiss on the crown of your head. You help him unpack the plastic bags he was carrying. They were mostly filled with food and a few trinkets from the places he’d visit on tour, most were bought because it reminded him of you. You thanked him before taking in a deep breath calming your heart. He was talking about his escapades from the last few days when you gently took his busy hand in yours. His eyes quickly caught on staring at your expression.

“What’s wrong baobei?” He whispered carefully, as his eyes flickered with worry.

You smiled softly up at him and replied, “I have to tell you something,” in the same sad whisper.

You slowly guided him to your sofa where he took the seat opposite to yours. He adjusted himself so he was sitting cross-legged but facing you directly, and you did the same. He intently listened to your heartfelt confession, and was lost at first but realized where you were getting at towards the end. When you finished you couldn’t look up at him feeling ashamed.

Minghao carefully brought his finger to your chin to gently lift your head up. He was closer this time, you could feel his warm breath against your face. His expression was soft and sympathetic as he stared deeply into your eyes searching for anything you thought of leaving unsaid. When he found nothing he spoke, “baobei, you know I love you a lot. I’m sorry you’ve been feeling this way, I was unaware of it.” He apologized. You wanted to stop him then and there and tell him it wasn’t his fault but you knew better than to do so. It was his turn to confess.

Minghao continues to go on about his assumptions, his unawareness, and his sorrow about how you’ve been feeling before he thanked you for still staying and enduring the hardships you faced internally. He also thanked you greatly for having the courage to confess something so frightening to say aloud. In the end he told you how you didn’t have to keep any of it all to yourself anymore and that you didn’t have to feel helpless as he was going to be there for you more. He knew you had needs and so did he, he just didn’t know he was getting more from the relationship than you were. And though you made it clear you didn’t see minghao as the only source of your wellbeing nor did you want him to be; minghao knew it still wasn’t fair you didn’t feel as loved as he did all because the language he used to deliver his affection wasn’t inline to what you were familiar to.

In the end of it all minghao moved to press a soft hot kiss on your lips. With the same desire and feelings you returned his kiss. The weeks away from his warm touch plus the released tension from your mind and body added more heat to the kiss as it became deeper. It started of as a slow passionate exchange till it escalated into something hotter and quicker filled with the desire to touch each other. You were slowly pushed down onto the cushions by minghao’s weight as his hands found the hem of your shirt. Your hand found its way from his cheeks to dark silky hair, you entangled your fingers in them as you fisted a few knowing he liked it. A deep moan rung through minghao’s throat and into your mouth as his cold hands flew under your shirt and onto your hot skin. You gasped at the sensation as goosebumps tickle your senses. But just before anything more happened, your cat came running into the room singing songs of hunger.

minghao reluctantly pulled himself off you and glared at the calico. “Tsk, but you had her for a whole week.” He grumbled clicking his tongue at the cat who continued to wail. You couldn’t help but laugh under your boyfriend at how silly he was covering your face with your arms out of embarrassment. Minghao’s ears perked hearing your familiar giggles as he turned to look at you in between his hands by both sides of your head. Minghao positioned himself so he was straddling you by the waist and moved to take your arms away from your flushed face. At first you tried to fight him, but since he was physically stronger than you - you were bound to lose. Your hands were now pinned above your head by one of minghao’s hands as you tried to turn your face to hide your pink face.

Minghao loved the way he could make your strong facade disappear and expose such sight knowing it was because you trusted him so much. With his free hand, he moved your head to face him once again, and he gently kissed every inch of your face. The sensation of his warm lips leaving sloppy kisses around your hot face caused you to squirm as your giggles bounced off the walls of your apartment. He continued to do so before your cat’s wails ringed through your ears once again.

This time minghao finally lets you go and got up to satisfy the wails of your baby. But before he could get too far you grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him down to your level with all your strength. For one last time, you placed a chaste kiss on his lips. You felt him smile from cheek to cheek against your lips, before you sent him off to feed the queen of the house, your cat.

:timeskip:

It’s now been months since you confessed to minghao, and vernon was right, things have gotten a lot better for the both of you. Headed for their studio, you walked with minghao hand in hand as close as you can be to each other through the lobby and the halls.

Entering their practice room the boys were overjoyed by your visit as well as the snacks you brought with you. When everyone was munching away, you were cleaning up the packaging they left behind. Minghao comes from behind you and slowly shakes his arms tightly around your waist, but not too much to stop you from what you were doing. From the side, where he was eating and chatting with Seungkwan and his other hyungs, Vernon smiled and nodded knowing you did the right thing.

-Yeet-

-=-=-=-=-

A/n: Have you ever had someone misunderstand your love language and was too afraid to correct them??? I have… It was tough 😔

See y’all again some day!

#seventeen #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #kpop #minghao imagines #imaginetheseidiots #missing u af #minghao scenarios #the8 imagines #the8 scenarios #the8 #jun scenarios #jeonghan x reader #minghao x reader #seungcheol #minghao #mingyu #jeonghan #jun #vernon #seungkwan

[lavendersoft]

Until I met you.

3/?

-Street Fighter! Jimin x Reader

Synopsis: While on a date for their 2nd anniversary, Jimin loses Yoongi while being attacked in an alleyway by a robber. Yoongi sacrificed himself for his lover and Jimin could never forgive himself for not being able to do the same. The survivor’s guilt ate away at him over the months and it definitely didn’t help that he saw Yoongi’s face everywhere. In mirrors, dreams, large crowds, on trains, and even when he closed his eyes. Although, Jimin found a way to cope. He began a rigorous training schedule. Boxing, self-defense classes, Tae Kwon Do, he even started street fighting and got caught up with bad people. Anything and everything. His hands would bleed, his muscles would ache, his bones would break. Jimin was offered multiple full scholarships to prestigious martial arts schools for his talent, all of which Jimin turned down. He didn’t want to make a career out of this, he just didn’t want to be haunted by his dead fiancé. The only time Yoongi wouldn’t haunt every moment of Jimin’s life was when he’s training as if Yoongi is saying “I won’t rest, nor will I let you rest until you’re stronger.” Jimin will never lose anyone that he loves again.

Everything felt like a downward spiral,

until he met you.

Warnings: (There’s a lot- and it’s kinda dark, be warned) PTSD, implied schizophrenia (sorta? take that with a grain of salt), PTSD induced delusions/hallucinations, depression, paranoia, night terrors, character death, major angst, unhealthy coping mechanisms, masochism(?), alcoholism, minor gore, mention of drug abuse, mention of blood, mention of sexual assault/ harassment, mention of asylums, profanity, Jimin goes through one hell of a mental breakdown.

Author’s notes: lil fluffy :)

Jimin doesn’t visit Yoongi’s grave.

He hasn’t in a while, at least. He has seen Yoongi far too often since his death, actually. And he decided long ago that visiting graves only bring him grief and sorrow, not solace like most people.

Something was different this morning; off. Yoongi wasn't lurking. He wasn't staring at Jimin in the shadows or murmuring in Jimin’s ear. He’s just... gone.

But that doesn't stop Jimin from drinking his guilt away like he usually does. If he's being honest with himself, Jimin probably wouldn't be able to cope without his daily dose of alcohol.

He could just picture Hoseok and Jin laughing at him if they were here. They were always the big drinkers of the group. Jimin hardly drank and when he did, he’d get drunk faster than the rest. The memory brings Jimin no joy, knowing what came of everyone. In fact, he’d rather not remember.

The useless alarm clock rings beside Jimin’s bed. The machine never gets the chance to actually wake him up since he’s awake before dawn every morning due to the nightmares.

Hm. Maybe I should call Dr. Bang?

As he reaches over to dial his therapist’s number, her name pops up instead.

Y/n: I had a lot of fun last night, minus the weird guy in the alley lol

Jimin wonders how she could dilute such a pig to just a “weird guy” but he decided not to bring it up.

Jimin: me too. 

Send.

What? That’s it? Come on.

Jimin: um so if you ever want to do-

Delete.

Jimin: cool. so do u wanna see a-

Delete.

Flirting is a lot harder than Jimin remembers. He sighs heavily and tosses his phone down, opting to shower away his self-frustration. Right when he starts rinsing and lathering, however, an idea lights up his mind.

Of course.

A few hours later he is standing outside of his old dance studio, the one he’d go frequently with Yoongi on their days off work.

He hasn’t been here in months. Nevertheless, this place hasn't changed a bit. This place was their own little private piece of paradise. It was a cozy, secluded building on the outskirts of the city, but it had the best view at any time of day. Jimin had the best memories here. Memories of his whole friend group coming and visiting him while he danced. Hoseok always had the best advice for him and they’d end up dancing together. 

Jimin stares at the oak door, then glances at the key in his hand. He contemplates if he is even ready to be back in there. But she’s going to be here soon. He’d asked her if she wanted to use his old studio to practice dancing and had given her the address. So, he bites his lip and turns the knob.

The angelic light that flows in from the window is the first thing he notices when he walks in. The room looks so much more spacious than he remembers, probably because he was never in here alone. The huge, wall-length mirror expands further than he remembered. You’d think that he’d still remember every detail of this room, being that he was here close to every day. But he doesn't. These last nine months have hurt more than his heart. I can’t remember worth a damn nowadays.

He closes his eyes and stands in the middle of the room, soaking in the sunlight, breathing in the familiar smell of the walls and floor. This building always had such a distinct smell. You’d probably call him crazy if he said he could just faintly hear the laughter that always filled this place. There was never a bad situation that happened here. It was untainted with the strife and stress of their daily lives. All of their struggles and grievances, they were dropped at the door.

They came here to forget. They came here because it was their haven. A pure haven. 

And now he’s sharing it with you.

Also, he thinks it could use a good dusting. So, he gets to work.

But he’s soon interrupted by one of those endlessly annoying, nagging thoughts that pop into his head as he sprays down the mirror with Windex.

I’m expecting too much. I don’t even know her. She doesn’t even know me. And I’m letting her into my most sacred place. It’s just too fast. It’s gonna scare her. 

He lifts his gaze and stares at himself in the foggy mirror for the first time in ages.

As if I could scare her any more than I have. I’ve practically beat the life out of a man on our first date. 

But she’s still coming. She’s still coming.

He tears his eyes away from the man lingering in front of him to get back to work.

After an hour of dusting, scrubbing, and polishing, the studio looked exactly how he left it the last time. Then, a knock at the door startles him. He’s not used to anyone knocking on the studio door, it was always open to his friends.

He jogs overhastily to let her in.

The moment the door reveals her, her eyes light up in awe.

“Wow! It’s huge!” She blushes when she realizes she hasn't even greeted him yet. 

“Uh, I mean good morning.” She scratches her head awkwardly. 

“Morning.” His reply seems bland compared to all the work he’d just put into cleaning the place up as to not embarrass himself... and possibly impress her. He’d never admit that, though.

“It’s so much bigger than the one I practice in! And it has natural light!” She saunters over the window, pulling open the curtain entirely. She freezes.

“Mine doesn't even have windows! And yours has-”

“Cool, huh?” He chuckles. She really is cute.

“A full view of the city? It’s more than cool, it’s like a dancers dream!”

It was. Once.

“So, do you like.. own it?” She asks the question as if it would offend him in some way.

“Sort of.”

It was Yoongi’s first gift to Jimin, before they’d even started dating. It was by far the greatest gift he’d ever received.

“I co-own it.”

“Ah.” She nods, dropping the subject entirely. “Oh, hey, a radio!”

She’s so enthusiastic about everything. Jimin smirks.

“Yeah. I’m not sure if it still work-” He cut off by a stream of soft music filling the room. He remembers this song well. It’s the last song he’d been listening to that night, before-

“Oh, I love this song.” She looks over her shoulder with a look that almost resembled mischief. “Wanna dance..?”

“Oh... uh.. I don’t know. I’m probably kind of rusty.”

“Please?” Oh, this could get dangerous. It’s really hard to say no to her.

“Okay, but don't laugh.”

“Promise.” She holds out her pinky finger, waiting for him to lock his with her own. He does so, gladly.

Take my hand.

She places her hand in his. He wraps his hand lightly around her waist.

Take my whole life, too.

They fumble a bit, awkwardly stepping on each other’s toes as if they weren't both trained professionals.

For I can't help falling in love with you.

She finds her balance, he finds his rhythm.

Like a river flows, surely to the sea. Darling, so it goes-

They glide over the dance floor like water.

Some things are meant to be.

The chorus repeats once more. He looks into her eyes now, instead of at his feet. She has a smile on her face that says she hasn't a care in the world at the moment.

I can't help falling in love with you...

The music fades and Jimin curses the song for starting in the middle instead of the beginning. He wants longer with her.

The next song starts and it’s a more upbeat one. One he made a choreography to. He’s almost tempted to show her before-

She already dancing. The exact same dance he created. He stands in shock. Every move, every step, everything is smooth and right on beat.  But how did she know?

He struggles to find the words to ask. Instead, he slowly starts to dance along with her. The look of confusion that crosses her face when she glances in the mirror and spots him following along with her perfectly is priceless. She falters for just a brief seconds before turning around and facing him, still hitting each beat. 

He smirks at her when the song finishes, she at a loss for words.

“How did you..? Where did you learn that?”

“Learn? I didn't learn it. I created it.” A stark silence enters the room.

“I’m sorry, what?” She’s obviously having a hard time processing.

“I made it.”

“But.. my dance teacher said it was made by some prodigy, like, years ago.”

He holds up his index finger, gesturing to himself. “That’d be me.”

“Stop playing with me. There’s no way... I mean-”

And so the afternoon went on. They discussed their dreams, their hopes, where they came from, favorite places to visit. 

Somewhere in between talking about her family home, she offered to order take out. He obliged and paid before she could oppose it. He felt terrible that they didn't have a proper place to eat- not even chairs. He’d pulled out an old blanket from the storage closet and made a makeshift picnic. He’d hoped to God that she didn't notice the faint musty odor from being in storage for so long. If she did, she didn't say anything.

 When they continued to talk, they even found out that they attended the same dance school when they were both beginners, not at the same time though. He has started dance much sooner in life than she.

He was called a prodigy, or so everyone told him. He was meant to be something. Something bigger than what he turned into.

“Hey. Wanna see something cool?” He asks when he notices the light in the room beginning to turn a deep gold, indicating the sun was setting. The really talked all day, huh?

“Always.”

He takes her hand and leads her into the hallway, all the way to end. They reach a door and he reaches up the top of the door frame to search for the key. After successfully unlocking it, the door opened to reveal an old, and he will admit, slightly sketching looking staircase. To his surprise, she enters without fear. She barely even waits for him.

Once they reach the top he opens the door and then stands out of her way, not wanting to block to the view. And he also wanted to make sure he could see her reaction.

There’s a silence that falls between them as she takes in the view of the city. Jimin inwardly praises himself for knowing all the best times of day to come to the roof, 6:22 pm sharp is one of those times. The world around them glows with golden, orange, and red light. The sun looks as if it’s searing the city, completely ablaze.

“Wow.” She takes in the sight of the tall shadows belonging to the buildings and trees as they grow even longer. 

Wise men say only fools rush in.

#until i met you #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts #park jimin fanfiction #park jimin #jimin #yoonmin #jimin x reader #jimin x yoongi #bts x reader #jeon jungkook #min yoongi

[mysterylover123]

My Hero Academia Episode 76 “Infinite 100%”

mysterylover123

It’s. Finally. Here.

So this episode is finally Lady Time! After taking an L for the entire arc, the ladies have got it from here! (I consider Deku an honorary girl so he counts too). I do wish they’d done a little more with this scene but whatever, it’s big and exciting. (One thing they cut from the manga: It’s Ryukyu who instructs Ochaco and Tsu to do The Thing there. Here they just know. Cause they’re psychic or something).

Awesome Lady #5 to Save the Day: Toga, of all people. Posing as Deku she basically saved them all. Yes, for Villainous Reasons. But hey, it turned out ok in the end! And of course, as we manga readers know, Toga stealing Ochaco’s blood and later Deku’s will only result in good things! (laughs like a maniac waiting for season 5).

Me tearing up for Awesome Lady #6: Eri, who has to find the will to be saved. I kinda wish they’d kept this point in the anime where the narration in the manga stated that she needed the will to be saved too, but either way who cares.

asdh9p8hwerj!!!!!!!

HOLY. SHIT. MIGHT-U!?! MIGHT U MAKES ITS ANIME DEBUT!?!? I was not expecting that! Certainly not in this scene. OK for those who don’t know, that vocal track they play right here? IT’S THE LYRIC VERSION OF YOU SAY RUN. It was released for the soundtrack of the movie, and I am not exaggerating when I call it the greatest piece of music ever composed by mankind. And here it is, in the anime. I had kinda headcanoned it as a BKDK soundtrack, but whatever, Deku remembers the “Save to Win/Win to Save” thing here anyway so it’s an honorary BKDK moment. 

Anyway I’m crying and I’m dead and this series has killed me.

You know, at first this kinda reminded me of that bit in Naruto where Hinata trips over a rock and can’t help him when he’s dying...

But then this happens and I remember Oh Yeah Uraraka is URARAKA. And she ain’t done with this arc yet! Awesome lady of the first 4 is gonna kill it! The animation on those shots was cool, BTW, just...her quirk activating on this little rocks. I’m getting even more hyped for a certain manga moment in the future...

I really like how they build up Overhaul’s appearance here in his This is my Final Form moment. (Yes, sorry to spoil you, but this is indeed his Final Form. Thank. God.)

HERE IT IS. WE’RE FINALLY HEREEEEEE. YES OMG. 100% INFINITE FULL COWL. THE LEGENDS WERE TRUE. LET’S GO-O-O-O-O-O-O-O! (Imagine that from OP4).

YES DEKU WRECK HIS SHIT.

TOGA IS ALL OF USSS!!!! Forgive me for skipping the Overhaul Flashbacks BTW. I really don’t care. Sorry Overhaul stans.

YAS THAT 100% ANIMATION YO!

Holy crap what? What was bones smoking (this is still amazing, btw) when they animated this? I bet they’re having a lot of fun right now. Just...holy hell that imagery. It was not in the manga, I don’t think...so this is just bones being like “How do we depict 100% full cowl Deku? I know! Multiple giant imaginary fists!”

That Chisaki POV was really smart too, just...conveying how terrifying our little hero truly is. (Honorary) Girl #7 Izuku is called the Absolute Madman for a reason, Chisaki.

YAS DEKU. F#CK HIM UP!!!! (And Eri too. This is a teamup fight guys!)

Nothing is inevitable as long as you can look it in the eyes and say “you’re evitable”.

Holy shit they stopped at the end of 158? I guess that means we’ll see more MadMan 100% in the next episode! OMG!

I’m pretty sure infinite 100% Deku was the only reason this arc was made. And hoo boy was it awesome to finally get to! My biggest moment in this episode, of course, was hearing MightU make it’s anime debut and finally seeing this scene animated as well. So yes, the episode is really good. But, of course, I do have some criticisms of this arc that still apply here...namely, that while this moment is unbelievably awesome and MadMan Deku is always cool...it’s also less so because this part of the series is almost a regression for Izuku as a character. Deku’s arc is about becoming more confident in himself and learning how to fight on his own without hurting his body, so having to do so again (and another bit that might be in the next episode) mark a bit of him going backwards in his progression instead of forwards. Still, either way, this does act as a kind of preview of how he will operate at 100%, and seeing him defy fate, help Eri and wreck Overhaul’s shit is still amazing to witness and experience. 

Next episode: Presumably a new OP (BYE BYE POLARIS I DISLIKED YOU AT FIRST BUT NOW YOU OWN MY SOUL) and at least 3 crazy things! I’m predicting chapters 159-161, so be prepared to Fist Pump, Scream in Horror, and Cry Uncontrollably, in that order. 

#my hero academia #season 4 episode 13 #episode 76 #infinite 100% #izuku midoriya #eri #uraraka ochaco #tsuyu asui #sir nighteye #overhaul #kai chisaki #ryukyu #himiko toga #ngl #while this arc is cool #i'm really excited #more for the next stuff #100% full cowl deku #is certainly worth the wait #but still #i'm glad this arc is nearly over #and omg next week #NEW OP #NEW ED #what will they be ?!!? #omg holy crap #i'm more hyped to find out what they are #then for almost anything else #except seeing Heroes Rising #i need that

[hamiltalian-creates]

Brothers Will Be Brothers 2

Summary: Virgil and Dee meet Remus and Roman at the mall and learn something not so shocking about them. Remus wants to play matchmaker, but Dee isn’t so sure about it.

Pairings: Brotherly Anxceit, Creativitwins, queerplatonic Dukeceit, implied Prinxiety

Words: 2,633

Warnings: Remus is Remus

[Virgil: Hey, Roman, u free?]

[Roman: Unfortunately so. Patton and Logan are binge watching Harry Potter again and they kicked me out for criticizing it as much as I did :(]

Virgil chuckled to himself. Roman never did know when to shut up.

[Virgil: My brother and I are going to hang out at the mall with his bf and I don’t want to just third wheel it, so he’s making me ask you to join.] [Virgil: want to come?]

[Roman: Of course! I finally get to meet this mystery brother of yours]

It wasn’t that Virgil purposefully hid Dee from his friends. It was just easier to distract himself from his worries outside of the house.

[Virgil: Great, I’ll text you in a bit w the time]

Virgil sighed and put up his phone before heading to the shower to rinse out his hair. He hoped Dee wouldn’t embarrass him to death.

[D: Hey, Rem, Virgil wants to officially meet you. Meet at the mall in a few hours?]

[Remus: OF COURSE?!?!?!! IS THAT A QUESTION?!?!?!?!?!]

Dee smiled to himself.

[D: It might be a bit awkward, he’s convinced that we’re boyfriends.]

[Remus: romance... barf.] [Remus: I’ll just explain when I see him! Easy peezy, lemon squeezy!]

Oh, simple minded Remus. When were things ever that simple?

An hour plus a hair wash and conditioning later, the two brothers were off to the mall, their respective “dates” on the way to join them.

“Promise you won’t go full dad-brother and humiliate me?” Virgil asked as he slumped in the front seat.

“Oh, I promise nothing,” Dee corrected. “If he doesn’t love me at my dad-brother, he doesn’t deserve me at my cool brother.”

Virgil groaned. “Stop trying to meme! You’re, like, 30.”

“I’m not even 21 yet!”

“Yeah, but mom and dad would’ve been a little over 40 and since you’re taking their roles, it averages out. So, that actually puts you at mid thirties.”

Dee smiled and shook his head. “Faulty math, but okay.”

Virgil smiled to himself and scrolled through Instagram as Dee drove, feeling relaxed for once.

When they got there, the two headed into the Barnes and Noble and waited, Virgil taking the liberty to wander through the aisles while Dee sat at the cafe and ordered himself a drink.

While he waited, he felt two familiar hands on him, one covering his eyes and one on his neck.

“Guess who? Guess wrong and off comes your head!”

Dee smiled to himself. “Is it Virgil?”

“Nope! You know who it is, Dee-Dee!” Remus pulled Dee into a tight hug and kissed his cheek. “Where is that little emo brother of yours?”

Dee shrugged. “Probably browsing the horror section.”

“I knew I’d find you in the horror section!”

Virgil jumped as Roman appeared behind him, putting away the book he’d began thumbing through. “And I’d find you in the kids section if you were here. What else is new?”

“Uh, I am meeting this brother of yours and, apparently, his boyfriend! That’s new!”

Virgil couldn’t fight back his smile. Roman was always so excitable, like a child on Christmas Day. “Yeah, whatever. We can all meet outside, unless you wanted something from the cafe?”

Roman shook his head. “Me and caffeine in public? Honey, that is a recipe for disaster.” Instead, he grabbed Virgil by the hoodie sleeve and pulled him out of the store. “What’s with the hood? First, we can’t see your hair at school, now not even at the mall, where nobody knows us?”

“I just did something to it.. No big deal.” He pulled down his hood, revealing his new, purple hair, and felt himself get kicked into freeze mode as Roman let him go. “If it looks stupid, blame Dee. He was being all sentimental and wanted to dye it for me.”

“No!” Roman exclaimed, a bit too loudly for Virgil’s liking. “I mean.. No, it looks really nice, Virgil. It fits this edgy thing you have going on.” He vaguely waved at him, gesturing mainly at the patched hoodie and combat boots.

Virgil tutted. “Alright, princey, don’t be weird because I found a look you couldn’t pull off,” he said, a clear joking edge in his voice.

Roman rolled his eyes and laughed a bit. “Fine. Where is this brother?”

Virgil checked his phone. Dee saw his text, so where was-

“You?!” Roman called out as he turned around, mortified.

“You!” Remus called back as he came out with Dee, clearly excited. He went over and pulled Roman into a bone-crushing, not-exactly-reciprotated hug.

“Woah, what’s going on here?” Virgil asked, trying to pry his friend away.

Remus let go and smiled. “Oh! Sorry, I guess I should introduce myself. The name is Remus Duke, half brother to this little drama queen!” He patted Roman’s head, who didn’t seem to quite hate the affection, but he clearly wasn’t a fan.

Virgil felt his mental jaw drop. This was the dumpster fire brother that Roman had described on multiple occasions?

“Oh, you did mention you had a brother, didn’t you?” Dee commented as he joined the three, pulling Remus away from poor Roman.

“Yep!”

“Half brother,” Roman corrected. “Same birth giver-”

“Different sperm giver,” Remus finished.

Virgil nodded. “Remus has his mom’s last name, Duke, and Roman has his second mom’s name, Prince.”

“Well, don’t say it like she’s any less my mama,” Roman added. “Mom and his dad broke up and mom found mama and they had me.”

Dee nodded, trying to keep up. “Well, isn’t this one hell of a coincidence?”

Roman nodded. “Yep.. Remus, I thought you were aro.”

“Still am! Dee’s my bestie, not my boyfriend, Virgil.”

Virgil hid an embarrassed blush behind his pale foundation. Okay, that explained that.

“Queer platonic partner! I finally found a name for what Dee is to me,” Remus hummed as he pulled said partner into a tight hug.

Roman smiled a bit. He and Remus were so different that they didn’t get along well most of the time, but he was still glad to see him this happy. “Well, why don’t we actually walk and talk instead of crowding the path?”

Virgil nodded. “Yeah, come on, you two are making a scene.”

Dee rolled his eyes. “Well, lead the way, then.”

Roman smiled and grabbed Virgil by his hoodie sleeve. “Hot Topic?”

“Hot Topic.”

Dee grabbed Remus’s hand and followed the two younger teens through the mall, stopping at Virgil’s favorite store. He preferred to wait outside, but Remus ran right on in to browse.

“What about that nerd store you like?” Virgil asked as he walked with his friend.

Roman shrugged. “Eh, I can go there later. You invited me, I figured I should ask you first.”

Virgil nodded and looked through a few t-shirts. “Thanks, Princey..”

Roman nodded and watched his friend. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but he’d developed a certain fondness for the emo boy. He wasn’t sure if it was a crush, but it definitely wasn’t what he felt for Logan or Patton, not at all. But he wasn’t sure Virgil would appreciate being put on the spot like that, so he didn’t say anything for now.

“I think I’m going to wait outside. I’m not really interested, but you keep looking,” Roman said after a few minutes, leaving as Virgil gave him a nod.

Remus saw his brother leave and slid right on in beside Virgil. “Hey there, Virgil. I heard you wanted to give me the boyfriend talk?”

Virgil was still mildly mortified by how wrong he’d been. “I didn’t know you weren’t into him like that, you guys just do a lot of couple stuff. I know when he goes over to your place at night, he makes it totally obvious when he comes home in the morning.”

Remus shrugged. “What can I say? I know how to work with what I have.”

Virgil’s nose scrunched up. “That’s so gross.. That is my brother, you know.”

“I know, but what’s the point in hiding it when you basically know everything?” Remus asked, grabbing the shirt that Virgil had been eyeing. “Nightmare Before Christmas? Seems right up your alley.”

Virgil rolled his eyes and stared at the ground. “Yeah, whatever, I’m a dark teenager. It’s just technically still a Disney movie and that’s Roman’s thing. It’s not like I want to accidentally match him, that would look stupid.”

“Aw, I think it’d be cute!” He glanced around a bit before leaning in. “Don’t tell him I told you, but I think he’s got a little crush on you.”

Virgil felt his face heat up as he snatched the shirt from Remus’s hands. “Whatever, that’s so stupid, you’re probably just picking on me, Dee probably put you up to it, I’m just going to go,” he rushed out before starting to leave, only stopping as Remus grabbed his arm.

“Wait, I didn't to embarrass you or anything. I may be aromantic, but I can spy a couple of pining teenager when I see them. Roman’s too much of a geek to ask you outright, so do you like him?”

Virgil hesitated for a second before shrugging. “I mean.. He’s not completely gross or anything. He’s just such a weirdo, I don’t know if I’d ever-”

“So that’s a yes, then?”

Virgil grumbled and sighed. “Yeah, whatever, fine, but if you’re just picking on me, I’ll kick your ass.”

Remus bit back a laugh at that. “Sure you will.”

Outside of the store, Roman nodded at Dee as he sat beside him, only glancing over as the other began speaking.

“So, you’re no good at hiding your crush on Virgil.”

Roman scoffed and laughed overdramatically. “Crush on Virgil? Wow, he’s just a friend. As if I really-”

Dee raised an eyebrow.

“... Yeah, fine, I like him.. But it’s just a crush, I’m not trying to do anything to hurt him.”

“You realize that Virgil’s in a fragile place? That if you were to hurt him, I’d legally have to hunt you down?”

And, honestly, Roman didn’t doubt that he would. “Well... Of course, I’d never even think about hurting him, but Virgil isn’t fragile.. He’s a really tough guy..” And, for the scrawny emo of the group, it was surprisingly true. The two of them bickered like crazy and while Patton always rushed to Virgil’s aid, thinking he’d be unable to handle it since the death of his parents, Roman knew the truth. Sure, maybe some of those comments got annoying, but he could tell that they didn’t hurt him too bad, no doubt due to the fact that he had an older brother.

Dee nodded. Good answer. So this Roman wasn’t just looking to treat Virgil as a damsel in distress. “But he does do very poor in the spotlight, something I feel is quite different from yourself.”

Roman let out the tiniest laugh. “Okay, that is true. But it’s not like I’d force him into drama with me or anything. He can do what he wants and I actually enjoy quiet time with him and our friends. Of course, I’d adore the chance to act with him on stage or to tell the whole school how great I think he is, but I’d keep it toned down, if the idea freaked him out too badly.”

Roman also wasn’t planning on forcing Virgil out of his comfort zone. “One more question: What makes you think I’m going to approve of you as his boyfriend?”

And that one kind of stumped Roman for a second. After all, he has an older brother of his own, but Remus seemed so much less strict than Dee about his little brother. This wasn’t a question he’d ever really thought of, especially since Virgil had been so adamant about keeping his friends and his home life separate. “I don’t know... Honestly, I don’t expect you to, but that doesn’t make me like him any less. If I have to bend over backwards to get your approval, so be it, but I really like him.. Not only that, Virgil is my best friend, I’d never dream of hurting him.”

Dee couldn’t help but smile a bit. Roman was still an awkward teenager, but at least his heart was in the right place. “Alright, fine.. You do seem like a good guy, and you are Virgil’s friend. I guess I wouldn’t have to kill you if you asked him out.”

Roman beamed and let out an awkward laugh. “Thank you.. I promise, I’ll do my best to be a good boyfriend..”

“With your life on the line, I’d hope so,” Dee shrugged.

Roman let out another awkward laugh. “Right... I’d expect nothing less than for a big brother to keep making that joke..”

“Who said I was joking?”

“Dee, are you tormenting my brother? That’s my job,” Remus said as he came out from the store, Virgil trailing behind him.

“This is why I don’t go anywhere with you, you’re more embarrassing than mom and dad ever were,” Virgil grumbled, pulling his jacket hood down over his face with his free hand, the other preoccupied with his Hot Topic bag. “I only have three friends, could you not drive them away?”

“We were just talking,” Dee replied in a far-too-innocent voice. “If he felt threatened by my words, that’s not completely my fault, is it?”

“You are the worst..” Virgil stood beside him and sighed, pushing his hood back down. “Are you done embarrassing me or can we move on to another store?”

Roman smiled and stood up. “It’s fine, Virgil. I have Remus, I get it.”

Virgil nodded. “Right.. Let’s go to that nerd store you like so much.”

“Yes!” Roman cheered, grabbing Virgil by his sleeve and pulling him through the mall, Remus yanking Dee behind them.

Despite the chaos that just came with a friend like Roman, Virgil couldn’t help but have the time of his life. He loved Patton and Logan, but it was great to not have them treating him like he needed to be protected and Remus was there to make sure Dee couldn’t do the same, though he couldn’t be blamed, being an older brother. It was nice to be with someone who didn’t let Virgil’s anxiety define him, even if it meant that Virgil occasionally got overwhelmed. It was nice to have Dee there to help when that did happen. It was just... It was a nice day. A great day, even.

“You’ve been smiling since we got in the car. What happened back there?” Dee asked as the two pulled up at the house.

Virgil tried to shrug it off, but there was no hiding his tiny grin. “Roman asked me out.. And I said yeah.”

Naturally, Dee couldn’t stop himself from feeling at least a little bit of anger, but he hid it. That smile on Virgil’s face said it all, he didn’t need a parent right then, he needed his brother. So, Dee pushed back his protective nature. “I knew he liked you. When’s the wedding?”

Virgil scoffed and pushed him a bit. “You’re such a weirdo. It’s just a date, a first date. We’re talking about it later, though...”

Dee nodded and let them both inside. “Just let me know when so I can clear my schedule.”

“I’d rather date Remus than let you chaperone us, I’m too old for that kind of thing,” Virgil grumbled as he walked towards his room.

Dee chuckled and locked the door behind them, sighing. He didn’t know if it was being a brother or acting as a parent, but either way, Virgil was growing up too fast. And, as much as he hated it, Dee was just going to have to deal with it.

#fanfic #fan fic #fanfiction #sanders sides #deceit sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #ts anxiety #ts roman #ts virgil #ts deceit #ts duke #ts remus #duke sanders #anxiety sanders #platonic anxceit #brotherly anxceit #prinxiety #dukeceit #queerplatonic dukeceit #creativitwins

[ogamagirl]

1, 8, 10, 18, and 29!

WOOO MORE ANIMU ASKS thanks Phoe!!

1. first anime you ever watched --Pokemon! TuT

8. anime character you are most like --aah lol I feel like I’ve answered this before (actually I know I have; I’ve reblogged these questions before but I couldn’t find any new ones orz;;;) so I’ll give my standard answer: I rlly don’t know if there’s any ONE anime character I’m most like because I find it really hard to describe myself AND I’ve never seen any character and instantly gone “wow this feels like me” SO I’ve consistently at least felt connected to Kiki from Kiki’s Delivery Service ever since I first saw the movie as a little girl, and I also sympathized with Inaba from Kokoro Connect pretty hard when I first saw that. I’ve also been told that I’m like Nano from Nichijou! So I guess...a mix of those three?

10. favorite anime animal sidekick --(kinda going with the musings above here lol but) JIJI!!!!!!!!!! Jiji my love, I love Jiji sm ToT <333333333

18.10 worst anime you have watched --HOOHOO So I did definitely answer this years ago but I have seen many more anime in the interim so...let’s see if I can come up with some NEW worst anime! |D IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER (and realizing that this is largely based on my own personal taste): -The Day I Became a God - Maeda’s really fallen off his game imo...it was just kind of bland up until the endgame and then it became actively offensive :/ -Lostorage incited/conflated WIXOSS - I really liked the first two seasons of WIXOSS (Selector infected/spread); I realize they’re not the most quality but they scratched an emotional itch for me and I really enjoyed them! But Lostorage was a huge disappointment; I didn’t even finish conflated and I don’t plan to, even with the reintroduction of selector character to the narrative...it just was bland and not well done. -Mahoutsukai no Yome - let me preface this by saying I LOVE MAHOUTSUKAI NO YOME; I started reading the manga in Japan and it’s extremely well written and interesting and I’d like to eventually finish it, BUT I put the anime adaptation here because imo it makes a pretty good case for an adaptation that’s TOO close to the manga not working. Animation is a different medium and if all you do is animate the panels as they were it’s not going to work; the animation was pretty and consistent, but the way everything was put together just...didn’t work. Reading the manga felt better and I never managed to finish the anime because of that. Even if you’ve read the source material, a good anime adaptation should make you excited to revisit the story again, and I just honestly never felt that here; I was bored. So...adapting a manga “word for word” does not a good anime make! -22/7 - SO much wasted potential. The hook in the first ep was really interesting! ...and then each new episode was just a flashback for each girl so by the time you got to the climax where they had to split the group up I didn’t FEEL anything because they weren’t developed in the present...it didn’t feel like they were friends so why should I care about them splitting up? I didn’t even finish it. -Magical Girl Spec Ops Asuka - look; I like edgy shit as much as the next person, and I do love me some edgy magical girls from time to time, but Madoka this ain’t - DEEPLY unpleasant scenes of torture for no reason other than to be shocking, and while I can appreciate them trying to do something deeper with exploring their main character’s trauma it was just clumsy and unpleasant to watch. (...looks like those are all the new entries! so for the last 5 let’s dunk on some old favorites) -School Days - I should not have to explain why School Days is bad lmfao. I’m kind of glad I watched it just because of its place in history but it was not a fun experience -Narutaru - another for the “I like edgy shit but this is just unpleasant” category. -Yumekui Merry - this is more of a disappointment because I thought the style and character designs were really cool but the show itself was boring and underutilized them. Wasted potential. -Daybreak Illusion - ALSO a disappointment - I was REALLY into it while it was airing but the finale shit the bed imo. I do still really like the character designs tho. -Psycho-Pass 2 - Psycho-Pass 1 was fantastic. I haven’t bothered watching anything beyond that because of how disappointed I was in Psycho-Pass 2.

29. anime that deserves another season ---...mmk listen. For reasons that I have detailed multiple times across multiple posts I am not entirely sure I want another season of SE in full because of issues I have with the manga. But I do want more SE animation u feel me listen, BONES: I will win the lottery and then I will commission u to make more SE animation that adheres to my internal world and includes me because I am canon mmk mmk

UH OH YOU WANTED A REAL ANSWER OK (that is my real answer fools)

Ouran is fun there should be another season of Ouran

#asks