#but these are the ones that are more or less fleshed out

[cinnamonest]

//punishment/spanking kink

Thinking about really strict yans… you know when it comes to punishment, the dread of not knowing what will happen to you is one thing, but there's also something deliciously gut-churning about the thought of knowing exactly what will happen.

With someone whose punishments vary depending on how he feels, or are decided on the spot, the uncertainty can be both equally frightening while also comforting. You can tell yourself it won't be that bad, at least up to a certain point. You don't know, you don't have anything specific to fear.

But then you have those for whom you don't get that comfort. Rules and their corresponding punishments when violated are laid out for you very clearly from early on, you're told what will happen if you disobey each rule as he's giving you the rules themselves.

Some are arbitrary, some are highly specific, some are alarmingly vague. The punishments can be humiliating, painful, perverted… most are all of the above.

It's primarily corporeal — you get spanked regardless of the offense, that's the one consistent thing. He likes putting you over his knee. It's humiliating, it hurts, you squeal and squirm and the way your body tenses and the little sound you make with each swat to your ass is euphoric.

Even though it's the basis of most punishments, there's still details for different offenses. What you do determines how many you get, the instrument used… the only constant is that he never lets you keep any layers on. Even for the mildest offenses, your clothes are always hiked up or pulled down to your knees, each swat connecting to bare flesh, making your eyes water that much faster, you bite your lip to stifle the sounds.

Not doing something you were told to do generally is a lesser offense, just warranting his hand — doing something you weren't supposed to do, on the other hand, usually warrants a belt.

Talking to others when you've been specifically instructed to not do so is fifteen with a belt to your bare ass, little acts of spite such as jerking out of his grasp or putting on something other than what he set out for you to wear today — generally falling under the label of ’being a brat’ — is twenty with his hand. Failing to greet him at the door as you've been specifically instructed to do earns ten with the whipping cane he got just for you.

He has something worse — a wooden paddle, the kind with lots of holes in it, specifically designed to hurt. He keeps it visible in your room, up on the wall, a constant reminder. That, he says, is for when you try and run from him. Which is inevitable, you'll do it one day, he's certain. And when you do, you know exactly what you'll get. Isn't it nice, having such certainty? One day you'll get to know exactly what it feels like, coming down on your sensitive, soft flesh with full, enraged force. You'll be so cute, crying so much.

Even if you wanted to try and forget to make it less dreadful, you don't get much of a choice, as he expects you to memorize the specifics. That's part of the added humiliation factor — he doesn't just act immediately, instead making you tell him exactly what you did and recite what has to happen to you as a result… of course, only after you're already bent over, stumbling over your words as you tense at the feeling of his hand or the leather or wood gently brushing back and forth over the soft, sensitive flesh.

And if you can't remember, you get a few more added on with each incorrect guess until you get it right. He doesn't always make you count, though — generally, if it's over fifteen or so, he knows you'll be a blubbering sniffling mess long before it's even over, and he has some compassion for you, even if no amount of squealing and crying is going to make it stop any sooner. So after a few, it's okay that you lose count… unless he's in an especially poor, particularly sadistic mood, and makes you start over for it. That, at least, can be a bit unpredictable.

And while it accompanies every punishment, it's not always the only aspect of the punishment — different offenses get a secondary part tacked on.

If you backtalk him, you also take his cock down your throat to learn to use your mouth properly. You lie to him, you take his cock in your ass — double down on the lie and you only get your own spit for lube, multiple lies or particularly severe ones means multiple days with a nice thick piece of tape covering up your poor neglected pussy while he stuffs your ass with cum day in and day out until you're too sore to even walk. You ignore him — the one thing that seems to upset him more than anything — and you get a solid week of only using your throat and ass until you learn to show some respect.

You try and hide your body from him — when he's explicitly told you it's his property now — and you'll be naked at all times for the next week, and tied up with your arms and legs spread far apart to ensure you feel the vulnerability of exposure. You push him away when he's trying to be intimate with you, like the little brat you are? You'll orgasm until you cry, kicking and squirming and pulling against the restraints keeping your arms and legs apart, pushing the boundaries of your comprehension how something so good can become so overwhelming and sensitive as to be painful, the sensitive nubs on your chest and your clit so abused that the slightest touch makes your whole body jolt as you whimper.

You get each and every one of these punishments as promises. You know from the very beginning exactly what happens when you make these transgressions — and yet, the dumb little thing you are, you still do it, and you still try to run and fight it as if it's not unavoidable, as if you stand any chance of getting out of it, as if you don't know him well enough to know you won't get a single sliver of mercy… and as if you don't know that trying to run and fight only adds another punishment, as you've been told many times. Really, you're like a little pet, so foolish and predictable and adorable.

Even so, it's not as if you'll never know the sort of dread that uncertainty can bring… in the most extreme form possible. One day you'll inevitably do something even out of the bounds of what he planned for, something he never even anticipated you doing, such a severe transgression that for once, he doesn't know what to do, he has to come up with something that can even possibly be adequate for your misstep.

Yes, when you see his head slowly turn towards your shivering and huddled little form, eye twitching with an unprecedented disgust at your sheer audacity, you'll get to finally know that chill in your blood of being unsure of what he's going to do to you.

#yan.txt #couldnt decide on one specific boy so 👀👀

[pinkaditty]

Random HCs About Obey Me! Dateables (minus Newspaper Club)

a/n: hello my lovelies! me again! im writing as much as i can 2 re-accommodate myself 2 posting and such. lack of motivation and executive dysfunction have really been hitting hard lately, so id appreciate lots of love on my recent works! i need a good boost i think. wah anyway, im working on your requests! im working on multiple at once which is why its taking so long. ill be pumping out three at once, with any luck! please cheer me on raaaaaahhh!!!!

summary: a little blurb about some hcs i have for the demons, humans, and angels of Obey Me! minus Luke and the Newspaper Club. I promise 2 make more content of them later though! most of these hcs are anatomy and personality based.

cw: nsfw (MINORS DNI), suggestive, mentions of monsterfucking, seduction, monster traits (slit pupils, scales, feathers, wings, pointed ears, fangs, etc), as well as detailed descriptions of odd bodily morphisms. its probably not as bad as i have listed here but viewer discretion is advised regardless. NOT PROOFREAD! there will probably be lots of typos :(

MINORS DNI! THIS POST IS SUGGESTIVE AND WILL LATER LEAD INTO AN NSFW POST! PLEASE RESPECT MY BOUNDARY!

IMPORTANT INFO BEFORE WE BEGIN that I hc that the brothers and other demons all have different demon forms. Like, they have their mostly human forms (Form 1), but then they have their in-game demon forms (Form 2), and then on top of that, they have a second, less humanoid, more monsterish demon form (Form 3), and then past that, they have a full monster demon form (Form 4, monsterfuckers unite!!!1!). ill get into those hcs later. side note that i also believe the demon dateables have heat cycles and will make a separate post detailing that.

General overview (a more thorough one will be created later):

Form 1: Human form that the demon dateables have in-game. Some monster traits are still there, such as unusually large teeth and fangs, pointed ears, and odd morphisms (strangely shaped pupils, strangely shaped tongue, strangely colored flesh, retractable claws and teeth, etc).

Form 2: Humanoid demon form that the demon dateables have in-game. More monster traits are revealed, such as scales, horns, tails, fins, wings, and any other traits, including more exaggerated traits that are suppressed in their humanoid form (longer and pointier ears, more obvious slit pupils, sharp fangs and retractable teeth and claws no longer repressed, etc).

Form 3: Monster-like demon form, but still vaguely humanoid. Whatever demon features they have are extremely exaggerated instead of repressed, and scales, feathers, or any other features they have become more prominent, widespread, and obvious. 

Form 4: Full on Monster demon. They become the animals they represent. For example, Leviathan literally BECOMES the monster leviathan, the impossibly large sea serpent. Asmodeus would become a manticore, Beelzebub would be a fly-bull hybrid, Belphegor is a cow minotaur but more monsterish, if that makes sense. etc etc im sure you have got it figured out. 

Anyways, lets get into it!

Demon Brothers:

Lucifer:

His feathers r constantly shedding. like. constantly. when he transforms into his demon form it's just a burst of feathers. 

when he's in his humanoid demon form (Form 2) he'll have wings behind his ears. they're small and heavy. 

Surprisingly doesn't mind when MC preens his feathers or horns and genuinely enjoys it. He purrs at the feeling. will not encourage you to do it though.

achy back because his wings, while smaller, became heavier. sits down a lot and relaxes his back muscles often. will never have incorrect posture bc of this.

has a tail but it's like. just feathers. he's slightly embarrassed about it because it sticks straight out and he cannot manipulate it whatsoever.

Has small feathery spots on his body when he's in humanoid demon form (Form 2). Like, the center of his chest, back of his neck, cheekbones, and his ankles all grow feathers when he transforms.

only wears reading glasses. his eyesight actually isn't that bad, it just helps him see things clearer. 

hates it when his room smells like him like he just can't stand it. on occasion his brothers will come in and just randomly spend time in there when he's not working. the smell of family helps him relax.

actually enjoys the nickname Lucy but won't admit that. 

is genuinely a good cook just doesn't do it often because of all the work he has to do.

bleeds a deep blue with a thin red sheen. black gums and oral flesh. not due to health issues they're just like that; the fall physically altered their bodies in more ways than one. also has retractable fangs but they're non-existent when retracted. his mouth is just incisors literally. 

long, flat tongue. pointed and sharp at the end. 

Mammon:

hates the color green. nothing wrong with anyone wearing it but he cannot stand the color anywhere in his room or on him. 

has partial tritanopia. it mostly affects his red/purple vision. can see most colors pretty okay, though. especially green and god he hates it. 

ok please hear me out: he's got bad eyesight. you will never catch him without contacts or glasses because he will not be caught lacking ever again. 

has pointed ears. very sharp and long. 

he actually does have a tail, but not in the humanoid demon form (Form 2). when he gets to the next stage, a more humanoid monsterish demon (Form 3), his tail sprouts from his lower back. not very long, but very sharp, scaly, and has spines on the back.

has and will use his horns as corkscrews. easy solution! 

has retractable claws in his hands and feet

flaps his wings indignantly to get attention, especially around MC or to overpower overlapping voices. something about them commands attention and he's proud of it.

bleeds gold and has a black tongue like Lucifer, but golden oral flesh. can't explain it i just feel it in my soul. 

his blood is naturally corrosive. will literally burn not only your skin, but the skin of his brothers as well. can dissolve metals in seconds. do not let him bleed around you. 

has generally sharp teeth, his canines being longer and sharper. teeth have a nice golden sheen to them. the first time you saw his teeth u were convinced he was wearing grills cuz???? 

thick black forked tongue but fork is not very prominent. presents more like a split tongue than a fork. 

his tongue is also super abrasive. has tiny keratin projections like a cat's tongue. won't really hurt if he licks you but it's a weird sensation. 

Leviathan:

can't hear well above ground and needs a greater water pressure to hear better. he's a deep sea demon so it's a little obvious.

responds better to light than color and actually also can't differentiate between colors very well. deep sea thing, it's the light that matters more than the color of it. he can still see color, just that physically speaking, flipping his lights on and off will get his attention quicker than holding a paper in front of his face.

since he's a deep sea demon, and there's lots of pressure in the deep sea, his body expands when he's above sea level, hence: he is slightly chubby (round face, protruding pudgy tummy, you can't exactly tell because he always dresses baggy). argue with the wall. 

pupils are more slit-like. still rounded in humanoid form (Form 1) but definitely slit-like. become fully slits when he's in his humanoid demon form (Form 2). 

has two sets of eyelids; 2nd set is clear and behind his normal eyelids. they close horizontally and are used to protect his eyes in saltwater and allow him to see. 

has gills (located on neck and sides of his torso) and therefore has a greater lung capacity than any of his brothers. his gills are also sensitive and somewhat erogenous. ask before you touch them please or else he'll jump out of his skin.

neck is very long. is actually the second tallest of the brothers, you just can't tell because of how much he slouches. 

has fins behind his ears, on his forearms, and on his calves and ankles. they are large, shimmery, and a blue-purple color. not super sensitive but be gentle when you touch them bc they're privy to tear. 

can flap his fins and does this when he's excited.

has scales all over his body in humanoid demon form (Form 2), randomly placed in thick groups (shoulder blades, cheeks, neck, hips). they are small, smooth, shimmery, and midnight blue.

will often swim around in his aquarium. is on good terms with every creature he has in there and is always bringing a new one. 

he constantly looks wet because his scales and fins are so shimmery but he's not wet he's just shiny. 

tail is actually very thin and brittle at the end. will grow back if it breaks off but he's not fond of that happening. it's much stronger and heavier at the base. he can crush a human femur with that.

pointed ears like Mammon, even in his humanoid form (Form 1). 

bleeds orange, has lavender gums and oral flesh. seven rows of fangs, and the lesser four are retractable. also has the longest fangs of his brothers. 

forked tongue forked tongue!! it's very very long and thin and deep blue. his taste buds are scattered among the inside of his mouth rather than on his tongue. 

it's also abrasive, like Mammon's, but his tongue will actually hurt. like, actually, unless it's the underside. 

Satan:

can't remember where I saw this but someone said his feather boa is a collection of Lucifer's feathers and I wholeheartedly agree. that's exactly what they are. he does this out of spite. 

his hands are abnormally large, on par with Beel's size. all the better to destroy with!

i know what the website says but they're taller in my hcs anyway. and I headcanon that he's the shortest. he's the smallest. by like, one inch shorter than Asmo (who i hc to be abt 6'2-5, so Satan is just under that range). it's so unfortunate BUT he grows into the second tallest when he transforms into his full demon form :] (Form 4)

can hear and see very well. has one of the most heightened senses of the brothers.

also has slit-like pupils like Levi.

has retractable claws in both his hands and feet. 

has two thick, protruding black ridges on his back leading to his tail. they are scaly and of the same material as his horns. they present more like a heavily ridged spine in his humanoid form (Form 1), but they become more obvious in his humanoid demon form (Form 2).

loves to stare at cats at midnight because his eyes are the same shape as theirs at that time. will often sneak out to find a cat and simply stare.

his tail is scaly, but not like Levi's. the scales are much bigger and thicker, like uneven chunks of metal. 

the end of it is pointed

his tail isn't really sensitive, but it is ticklish if you can get to the skin underneath the scales.

has small gauges. can't explain it, these are the only piercings he has. 

bleeds a bright, sickly green. has forest green gums and oral flesh. Teeth are normal but his canines are heavily pronounced, longer and sharper than the surrounding teeth. his molars are also abnormally sharp, the edges pointed and elongated. 

tongue is forked like Mammon's in that it presents more like a split tongue. his is barely there. also, has teeth on his tongue. small fangs along the sides of it. it's a sickly green. Mammon hates watching Satan talk. 

Asmodeus: 

His pupils are horizontal bars, like that of a goat. surprisingly unnoticeable unless you stare.

has never gotten a single blemish on his skin ever but that doesn't stop him from using skincare products anyway!

naturally smells like roses, but around humans, he smells like their deepest desires.

his wings are not very strong. he can't fly for very long or very high either.

he has a birthmark the shape of a lipstick kiss mark on his left hip. he's so proud of it and will show it off unprovoked.

has very light, almost unnoticeable freckles. doesn't like to cover them up because when he goes full manticore demon form (Form 3 and 4), his whiskers show up in the same area. it's uncomfortable.

his ears are pointed slightly. not as much as Mammon's, but still pointed.

very frail. not necessarily a bad thing, just surprising. his health could shatter instantaneously. while he may not die from something, he could be bedridden for a while. 

bleeds a glittery pink and his blood is a natural aphrodisiac. gums and oral flesh appear normal but are actually an unsettlingly bright pink color. has fangs, most of his teeth are slightly pointed. they're the sharpest fangs of the brothers. 

forked tongue except it's in three segments. they're all shaped like normal tongues but abnormally long and the middle one is the longest. bright pink and slightly abrasive. also pretty thick. has some of his taste buds on his bottom jaw.

Beelzebub:

also has horizontal bars for pupils. also strangely unnoticeable unless you stare. 

the largest, tallest, and bulkiest of his brothers, but weighs slightly less than Mammon and Lucifer because their wings are particularly heavy. 

you never have to worry about him choking because he won’t. it always goes down the right pipe i promise.

is a great cook! can never finish though. the ingredients are gone before he’s finished. hes the type to make cookie dough and then eat the dough. never making the cookies. it’s not his fault though he’s just super hungry.

MC and Belphie work together to provide Beel with a secret stash of food so that he doesn’t always clear out the fridge. it’s a win-win.

wings are very lightweight, as are his horns. he never beats his wings because he sounds like a giant fly when he does and it has disturbed more than enough people at this point. will buzz them when eating particularly good food. he can’t help that. 

has antennae along with his horns. long, thin, and black. almost invisible if you don’t pay attention. 

can communicate with flies and other small insects but doesn’t bother to do so very often. will tell them to stay away from MC if MC doesn’t like bugs. 

bleeds red, but an odd oversaturated and bright red. gums and oral flesh are the same color, but his tongue is black. not forked, but very flat and long, allowing for more room for food in his mouth and down his throat. 

all of his teeth are fangs except for his molars for grinding. his molars, however, have elongated sharp edges like Satan’s. teeth are stained red at the roots so it appears that his teeth are bloody. they’re not, they’re just like that. 

when starving, his saliva and blood are extremely, extremely acidic. will dissolve skin in seconds. when just typically hungry, it's about as acidic as gastric acid. 

Belphegor:

can switch back and forth between normal vision and negative light vision. usually sees in negative because his eyes are too tired and everything is constantly bright :(

also has horizontal bar pupils like Beel and Asmo. 

eyes droop downwards and have a hypnotizing look to them (both Beel and Asmo have this as well). the three younger brothers are particularly good at human seduction because of this trait.

is the youngest and therefore has the youngest brother attitude. iykyk. 

is probably more of a troublemaker than Mammon is. Mammon may be in financial debt but Belphie is in moral debt. Will embarrass all of his brothers (except Beel sometimes) and think nothing of it. doesn’t always get away with stuff though. what goes around comes around…!

would not be as close with Satan as he is canonically if they didn’t have hating Lucifer in common. but because they do have that in common, they’ve found other things to like about each other. Satan will keep quiet reading in the library if Belphie is napping there and in turn Belphie will spare Satan from the next round of exposing his brothers. win-win.

he resembles a satyr in his humanoid demon form (Form 2). his lower half is covered with spotted cow fur and his feet become hooves. 

tail is a mix of scales and fur. the scales are closer to the root of his tail, on his body, and eventually becomes more fur as it reaches the tip.

when angry or upset, will whip his tail around and crack it on the nearest hard surface (floor, table, wall, etc) multiple times. it sounds like a whip and is very startlingly loud. 

gets angry a lot. is also surprisingly very very expressive. 

has vitiligo and his spots are where the fur in his full demon form are lighter colors. 

has retractable claws but doesn't often use them.

bleeds purple with a red sheen. gums and oral flesh are black, but his tongue is purple.

has fangs, but they're probably the least prominent of his brothers. closest to normal human canines. however, he has the second strongest bite force of the brothers (first strongest is beel, third is satan). 

Dateable Side Characs:

Diavolo:

naturally high body temperature. constantly warm. how does he not sweat so much? we'll never know.

his horns at the base are very sensitive. like, extremely. he'll jump 10 feet if your fingers brush against them.

his laugh is naturally extra like that. he doesn't mean to be extra it's just like that.

secretly really wants to make a pact with MC but obviously can't, for multiple reasons. feels left out :/

his yawns are almost as animated and ridiculous as his laugh is. he's so silly.

totally a morning person. ask him to stay up late and he will conk out immediately.

very fond of and fascinated with humans and is enamored every time he talks to MC or Solomon. never lets it show. Barbatos knows, though.

is only one more inch taller than Beel. 

ik it's canon that none of the brothers are as strong as Dia but I like to hc that he'd have a hard time fighting any of them, Beel especially. if both of them were lucid and fully aware, Dia would eventually come out on top, but not without a grueling struggle.

his bodily fluids are as hot as magma. didn't even notice because of how warm he is until MC got burned from eating off the same spoon as him.

bleeds a brighter gold than Mammon. gums and oral flesh are also gold, but his tongue is black and forked similar to Mammon's.

huge fangs. they stick out of his lips sometimes.

his eyes aren't like the younger three demon brothers, but they can be very hypnotizing. he can't turn it on or off, so everyone usually ends up relenting to him because of it. except Barbatos and Thirteen, they are the only two immune to it. 

Barbatos:

in contrast to Dia this guy is constantly freezing. like touch his hands or neck and you'll feel like you've got frostbite. 

it's physically impossible for him to offer body warmth so just accept his tea instead

is a total tea enthusiast. even he doesn't know why. he just loves finding new teas to make.

similarly enamored with humans, but particularly with MC. less so with Solomon because he’s just not like other humans.

his power is definitely on par with Dia’s, if not more. this is why he was absolutely a necessary ally to Dia. Barbatos would be far worse as a neutral party or enemy.

there isn’t much he isn’t good at except board games. for whatever reason, if it’s not chess, he just can’t get the hang of it. even monopoly confuses him but he always somehow ends up owning the boardwalk. dumb luck or his sin? we may never know.

has gills like Levi along his neck and sides. his are much larger, however, and grow into patterned grooves on his back.

he has long hair. i know it's short in canon but in my heart? his hair is longer, like down to his mid-back. all of his hair is like a gradient, except it's slanted, if that makes sense. more hair will be teal on his left than on his right, and the gradient continues at an angle.

haaaaates taking off his gloves unless it's to touch people he loves. for example, he'll slip them off to pat Luke on the head or squeeze Dia's shoulder or to hug MC. 

his hands are perfect, btw. inexplicably perfect. something about the bone structure in his hands is just so alluring.

his tail is cold and constantly slimy. not unhygienic, just slimy. also very strong. he can lift and hold heavy things pretty well with it.

hates rats AND mice. both are committers of unforgivable crimes to him. but he's a bit of a scaredy cat. will yelp and hide behind the closest person (except Luke and most of the demon brothers) if a rat or mouse appears suddenly. 

bleeds a shimmery paris green. gums and oral flesh are the same color. his teeth are a blinding white, though. hard to look at.

tongue is similar to his tail in appearance and shape, except segmented into three like Asmodeus’s tongue. it's also freezing cold.

yk how i said asmodeus has the sharpest fangs of the brothers? well this guy has the sharpest fangs period. literally. his tongue and oral flesh is a bit thick to prevent his teeth from constantly cutting the inside of his mouth.

Simeon:

hair is really coily. idc what his hair looks like canonically. it's coily to me. also naturally soft and perfect like he has effortlessly perfect coils. 

lips are pretty thick, probably has the thickest lips of all characters. suuuuper kissable. two-toned. 

he is naturally constantly the perfect amount of warm. cuddles and hugs and small touches from him are always perfect because he's always the right temperature.

has the toothiest, goofiest grins ever. he doesn't grin often though. usually he just smiles.

is surprisingly super petty and will not let shit slide. will not. don't try it bc he's not the one. 

he KNOWS his outfit is a little revealing. he KNOWS when you're looking. and no, he won't stop you nor is he ashamed of it, but he will chide you if you go too far. 

will always be bad with technology and will always beat Barbatos in board games. except chess.

began writing TSL as an outlet for his wrath. it was therapeutic and worked to dissolve his wrath, but he does continue to struggle with it.

is actually super clever and knowing. on par with Barbatos and Solomon in terms of sheer knowledge. it just isn't readily apparent about him.

isn't exactly fond of stormy weather because his outfits include elaborate capes and he hates it when they get caught up in the wind and no longer appear elegant

dresses like a fall christian girl when it's cold out. sweaters and skinny jeans galore.

has normal oral flesh and gums, the only difference is that unlike other angels, Simeon has unusually sharp and long canines. 

normal tongue too, nothing to worry about.

Solomon:

he knows how to cook. he just loves how doing it incorrectly always manages to piss people off. he gets a good kick out of it.

has been alive for a very long time but still can't read analog clocks right, especially ones without numbers.

will occasionally disguise himself as a college student and attend classes to keep himself up to date with what is being taught. usually erases memories of students and teachers once he's done attending.

he knows he's immortal but he likes to live like he can die via regular things that could kill a human.

isn’t exactly an asshole, is just somehow an expert at pissing everyone off. he’s genuinely likeable, he’s just never gotten enough of how funny it is to piss people off. 

is still human but hanging around demons and angels has changed him in odd ways. for example, he’ll have an oddly strong sense of virtue, but at the same time value corruption.

obviously is on the side of humans, no matter what happens. its why he’s so attached to MC despite MC being very close with the brothers. secretly, he wants MC to choose him, too. 

normal human anatomy unfortunately. 

pays for his immortality in purity. it is why Thirteen mentioned his flame still sparkles, but it’s different. his soul becomes less pure and more corrupted the longer he lives on. ultimately this has no effect on his health, but it simply states that there’s really only one option for his afterlife. 

totally normal human anatomy. is surprisingly really healthy and doesn’t often get sick. 

a/n: wellllll that's all for now yippee!!!!!!!!! i hope you all enjoyed my little hcs. ive had this in the drafts for, like... a very long time, but just never got around 2 posting it, so i hope you all enjoy this. please leave a like, comment, and a reblog if you liked this post! i love 2 know that you all enjoy my works! also, if u have hcs about the demon dateables that you'd like to share, PLEASE TELL ME!!! i love sharing and discussing hcs, especially anatomy ones! its so much fun!!!

#obey me #obey me solmare #obey me shall we date #obey me! #obey me nightbringer #obey me hcs #minors dni #obey me smut #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me brothers #obey me swd #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me beel #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #obey me side characters #obey me headcanons

[delzinrowe]

Nightmares - Choso x Reader

⠀⠀✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚ ⠀⠀⠀It's all a nightmare, and you can't wake up.

WORD COUNT: ~2.4K WARNINGS: Angst, hurt, much needed comfort. F!Reader. SUMMARY: Y/N didn’t want to close her eyes. Closing them meant seeing those god awful images again. [Spoiler for Chapter 259!] A/N: This is for all my fellow Choso girlies. Chapter 259 never happened. Stay strong. Stay delulu.

↺ home⠀⠀|◁ masterlist⠀⠀II hc/brainrots⠀⠀▷| kofi⠀⠀♡

One moment.

That was all it took. Just one moment of carelessness. One brief second of Inattentiveness. In the short time Choso had he acted on instinct, ignoring his fear and putting others above him like many times before.

All Y/N could do was stand by and watch, frozen by shock and panic as she witnessed the flames lashing out. Although it happened in the blink of an eye she could have sworn time fate pressed the slow-motion button. There was nothing left she could do.

Tears started to spill from her eyes uncontrollably, they went unnoticed by her. But she could hear someone scream, a gut-wrenching screech, that she didn’t realize came from her own throat.

“Choso!”, it was all she could come up with, all that was in her mind. The image burnt into her mind, preparing to haunt her in every waking moment of her uncertain future.

Red hot flames blazed up high, threatening to set even the air surrounding her on fire. It was only then that she took in the smell of burnt flesh. If there had been time she might have paid attention to the nauseating feeling it caused as her stomach churned.

All too soon Choso had completely vanished, leaving behind not only his little brother Yuji but also Y/N with a heavy broken heart. Her mind blanked, nothing could have ever prepared her for this.

Life as a sorcerer was hard enough, and she knew that there was a possibility of dying every single day, especially with the odds stacked so high against them. Yet, it never occurred to her that she would lose him of all people, in such a cruel way no less.

Him, who she had been suspicious of from the beginning. Him, who she always had her watchful eye on whenever he was around the younger students. Him, who she looked at with less concern with each passing day once she allowed herself to get to know him. Him, who elicited chuckles and laughs from her even when he said something awkward or nonsensical. Him, who opened up more and more to her when he decided to fully embrace his human side. Him, who for some reason kept reaching out to her whenever he wanted to learn more about being human, despite having his little brother Yuji. Him, who slowly made his way into her heart more and more with each passing day. Him, who she was too afraid to confess to…

In an instant everything went dark. A screech rang in her ears for what felt like an eternity. Y/N jolted awake, beads of sweat having formed on her forehead. Her wide open eyes scanned the room, as her body fought to control her ragged breathing.

After a little while her vision accustomed to the darkness, making out the shapes of the furniture. If she hadn’t been so shaken up by the visuals still in her mind she might have felt embarrassed about how long it took her to realize she was in her own bedroom.

However, even in the supposed safety of her own quarters, Y/N couldn’t compose herself. Heavy tears spilled from her blood shot eyes. The smell of burnt flesh, the heat of the flames, even the sight of scorched earth kept replaying in her mind, tormenting her furthermore. Having these moments played out in her dreams repeatedly, being tormented by nightmares night after night… It felt like a cruel joke.

“Well, there’s no point in sleeping now…” A deep sigh followed her mumbled words. Talking to oneself was normal, right? Or maybe she was on the road to going insane. After eventually leaving her bed, she walked into the bathroom to splash her face with some cold water. It was meant to help her wake up faster from her sleepy state whenever she was faced with a nightmare, and with time it had become somewhat of a routine.

She didn’t even spare one glance at her reflection in the mirror. It would only show the same thing: blood shot eyes adorned with dark rings.

Her feet dragged her out of the room. Was it possible for a person to act on autopilot for days on end? If so, it was her recently. She couldn’t tell you at what point she put on her jacket or shoes, or when exactly she reached for her keys and headed out.

Darkness still swallowed most of the surroundings. The moon’s small scythe barely illuminated anything, but in all fairness it was all pretty much a haze and a blur to Y/N anyway.

How long had she been walking? It could have been anything between ten minutes and an hour. She wouldn’t even be able to tell anymore. Much like a zombie she simply kept walking where her feet took her, they had a mind of their own at this point.

She didn’t want to close her eyes. Closing them meant seeing those god awful images again. If only she tried hard enough maybe she could keep them open forever? What a miserable kind of wishful thinking.

Before she knew it she stood in front of a door, the heavy knocking of her own hand seemingly ripping her out of her own trance. Almost aggressively she banged her fist against the wood, only stopping once she heard the shuffling steps behind it.

“Y/N? Wh–” She wouldn’t even let him finish the question, which she knew would only have the same answer as the many times before. Instead she took a step forward and wrapped her arms around his torso, burying her face in his shirt. Once more tears spilled from her eyes, staining the oversized shirt she had her face pressed against.

“You dreamt of it again, didn’t you?” His question was met with a squeeze of her hold as she tried to tighten it more, desperately clinging to his frame as if her entire life depended on it.

“Choso…” The single word she uttered was muffled, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She knew he’d understand it no matter what, just like he understood that she needed his embrace now more than ever. Quiet sobs followed soon after. Were her eyes hurting from the lack of sleep or the many tears she had cried recently. Perhaps it was both.

“I’m right here.” Choso spoke in a tone that was far more gentle and soft than usual. A tone that was reserved solely for her. It had taken him a while to learn different human customs, yet he knew exactly what to do whenever she wanted to hug him. Thus he instantly reciprocated by wrapping his own strong arms around her.

Learning about human behavior, traditions and customs wasn’t difficult for him, especially when she taught him. He was quick to understand that sometimes emotions needed to flow freely and all he could do was to offer comfort in whichever form he could.

“I can’t lose you.” Y/N kept mumbling her words, almost as if she wasn’t aware that he could actually hear them. It was a moment of vulnerability. Raw and unfiltered. The bare emotion she emitted was heavy yet beautiful.

“You won’t.”

Through the tears she scoffed at his words, barely pushing her head off his chest to shake it in disagreement.

“You don’t know that.” Despite talking to him Y/N didn’t face him. Perhaps she was too afraid of what he might think of her tear stained features. As if he hadn’t seen her weep many times before.

“Look at me.” It was astounding how soft and gentle his tone could be, and if she hadn’t been too busy being plagued by negative emotions she would have praised him for his remarkable empathy towards human sentiments.

But she did as he asked, haltingly lifting her gaze up. One look into his eyes and she nearly forgot the horrifying images that had awoken her earlier this night. For a cursed spirit he sure was enchanting. His presence had an uncannily peaceful aura but no one except Y/N seemed to take notice of it.

Choso glanced at her, he took in every single nuance of those glossy eyes that had shown him compassion and kindness when others had been wary and cautious. He had always been a fast learner and had soaked up everything she taught him about human traditions and emotions like a sponge. He was no stranger to the feelings she stirred up inside him, and he was sure that he caused the same kind of feelings inside her. Or, at least he hoped for it.

He almost forgot that he wanted to speak, all because of the way she looked at him, as if he was her life line. If it had been anyone else the silence might have been eerily uncomfortable, however with her it was everything but.

“I won’t lose me. I wouldn’t leave you alone.” It was a subconscious instinct to pull her tighter against him. For a brief moment he swore he saw the faintest hint of a smile flash on her lips but all too soon she buried her face in his shirt once more. Her weight shifted to lean more against him, perhaps because she felt safe in his embrace. How ironic to show your most vulnerable side and feel safest in the arms of a dangerous cursed spirit who happened to be your former enemy. None of it mattered anymore.

“I should head hom–”

“No. You’ll stay here. There’s no chance I will let you go home so you can experience the same nightmare again.” He didn’t let Y/N finish her sentence, he wouldn’t let her argue over it. The woman knew him well enough to be aware of his subtle stubborn nature.

Unbeknownst to Choso, her lips curled into a soft smile when he interjected her words. The dreadful feeling in her gut dissipated, making space for a happier sensation. She couldn’t explain their friendship properly. With the way the two behaved when they were alone she knew fully well that there was more between them, but speaking about it might disrupt what they had now. For the time being she was happy with how things were. Even if she knew that she should tell him about her feelings before it was too late. She couldn’t bear the thought of her nightmare turning into reality.

Minutes passed as the two still stood in the hallway, and neither of them said anything, simply letting the comfortable silence linger between them. Choso wasn’t sure how much time really passed, not that he actually cared about it. The only thing he cared about was getting Y/N into bed and making sure she could rest peacefully. Only when he heard her yawn against his chest did he decide to break the silence.

“You need to rest.” Admittedly, it was an obvious observation, but in his defense Choso wasn’t sure how to tell Y/N that she needed to sleep, and that he wouldn’t let her leave without at least a couple of hours of proper sleep.

“No, I just need you.” The female sorcerer slurred her words, it seemed quite evident that exhaustion was taking over her. Although she did fight against the oncoming sleep, it was futile. His warm embrace, paired with the way he gently reassured her lulled her into a feeling of safety.

The beating heart in his chest surely exposed his feelings, with her ear being so close to it he was convinced she’d hear it as clear as his voice.

“I’m here, and I’ll always be.” With more and more of her weight leaning into him he couldn’t drag her to the bed on her feet. Further exhausting her or risking her stumbling over her feet was the last thing he wanted.

Despite feeling uncertain of how to proceed, Choso knew he had to get her to bed. His only logical option was to carry her. He didn’t waste any time in picking up the young woman by hooking his arm underneath her knees and pulling her up to his chest. Instinctively Y/N’s head dropped onto his shoulder. The view of her like this nearly made the black haired’s knees give out. How he wished that he could simply tell her what he felt, but now wasn’t the right time. For now he needed to get her to bed and let her sleep without any disruptions.

Which is exactly what he did. Without further delay he carried her into his bedroom, as if she didn’t weigh anything to him at all. No thought went to it, it came easy to him as his physical strength was immaculate. However, once he stood in front of his bed he couldn’t find it in himself to set her down. An intense urge to keep holding her, to protect her and shield her overcame him.

“You’ll stay, right?” Y/N’s quiet words surprised him. Her closed eyes deceived him to think she had already been asleep, which made hearing her voice now unexpected.

“I’ll stay, of course.” Not a moment of hesitation as he reassured her. Nothing could have made Choso leave her side, especially not now. Eventually he gently placed her on the mattress, careful not to cause her any discomfort. Instead of taking his leave he kept his word and stayed with her, laying down next to her with his arms wrapped around her frame.

“Don’t leave, you promise…?” A smile tugged on the corner of the curse’s lips at just how exhausted and sleepy she sounded when she spoke. She fought hard to stay awake long enough to hear his reply. Although her efforts were in vain, before he could reply, sleep took a hold of her and engulfed her in darkness, albeit a soft and warm kind of darkness.

“I’ll never leave.” Meanwhile he struggled to fight his own urge. The urge to hold her tighter and kiss her forehead.

“I promise.”

Screw it. The urges won him over as Choso leaned closer to Y/N. Tenderly he pressed a kiss onto her forehead, which conveyed more emotions than any words he had ever spoken to her. Maybe he was a coward for not telling her about his feelings, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t know exactly what kind of shared love the two had developed even without verbally expressing it.

Choso glanced at her once more, taking in her still features and how her chest rose and set in a steady rhythm. How come this woman had so easily found her way into his heart? 

Some day he would tell her. Some day she would respond that she reciprocated his feelings. Some day. But until then he’d be by her side even without words to speak.

#stef writes #kamo choso #jujutsu kaisen #choso x reader #kamo x reader #kamo choso brainrot #kamo choso imagine #kamo choso scenario #kamo choso x reader #kamo choso x reader fluff #kamo choso x you #jjk #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #choso

[oceaneyesinla]

Please don't ask what this is. Not usually a Sukuna girlie but I watched the fire arrow scene again and it does things to me (hands + fire = !!!!). No-one look at me, I've never written Sukuna or smut before

Divider by @/cafekitsune

Smut below, enjoy!

You knew what those hands had done. You knew what they were capable of. The lives they had taken and the blood they had spilled, red dripping from those strong fingers and running down past tattooed wrists. You had watched it in real time, watched as they struck down those who would insult him and tore apart those who would oppose him. He was merciless, and those hands were the conduit through which he directed his murderous urges.

You knew their destructive power, and yet you couldn’t fear them. Not when those same hands had handled you with such care. The same hands which ripped a man’s head from his body, were also the ones which lovingly ran through your hair, separating strands as if it were the finest silk in the land. Those hands were often covered in viscera, but they were just as often covered in expensive oils, providing sweet relaxation with every pass over your skin.

Those hands, with long, thick fingers and prominent veins running along the back. Palms slightly rough from the times where his cursed technique wasn’t enough and he bloodied his flesh to get the job done in a way that would satisfy his bloodlust.

The world would say they were the hands of a monster, and maybe they were right in the grand scheme of things, but they didn’t know that the hands they saw commit only evil were also capable of such love. They would never know the man within that monster. They would not know the reverent gaze you were fixed with as those hands trailed across your body, mapping the skin they passed over. Nor would they know the deep chuckle that filled the air as those hands toyed with your nipples to draw breathy moans from your throat.

Those hands knew your body better than anyone else, and they knew how to reduce you to a whimpering mess within minutes. Warm palms would run up and down the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, each pass bringing them closer to where you wanted them most. Skillful fingers would tease at your clit, the fleeting contact making you squirm. Two fingers would scissor to pull apart your folds, so red eyes could see the evidence of your arousal. Thick digits would press inside you, seeking out that spot along your walls with focus and precision, determined to watch you arch your back and listen to you moan his name. Sukuna knew your weakness for his hands, and he knew exactly how to exploit it. It benefited him too, you came to realise. He wanted to feel your heat flutter around his fingers; he drew pleasure from feeling your arousal coat his skin, leaving a slick sheen. He knew just how to get his results, too - knew that every time he praised you; reminded you that you were so good for him, that you took his fingers so well, you would clench a little harder around him.

Those hands would pin yours to the bed, and they would rest heavy on your hips as he rutted into you, and one would come up to grasp your cheeks, forcing you to meet his eyes as you fell apart in his hold. After your lovemaking, those hands were gentle as ever, cleaning up the fluids coating your thighs and massaging sore muscles.

Those hands belonged to the man you loved, and no matter what horror they, and he, committed, you would never see anything more or less than your Sukuna.

#jjk smut #sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader smut

[entities-of-posts]

Hi, I have a question not directly tied to the roleplay (though I don't mind if you answer it in that direction): A while ago, you talked about your theory of a potential 16th Fear emerging to balance the emerging Extinction: the Dull. I find that concept compelling, but in that post you also said that each of the powers has an "opposite" due to how people like to categorise things and I'd be curious what you would consider the opposite of each power. (Mostly because I like lists and sorting things xD)

Some do have a pretty clear opposite (Vast/Buried, Lonely/Corruption), but with a lot of the others it's less immediately obvious or simply up to a bit more interpretation. iirc Elias says the Stranger is the antithesis to the Eye, but the Dark and the Spiral similarly foil its central concepts, and I'm not sure what else their opposites would be, really.

Let me just preface this list by saying that this is my own opinion and interpretation, and thus 100% right and correct and indisputable.

I will also say that there are Fears which I would call near opposites, but imperfect mirrors - such as the Stranger and the Eye - and some that just seem to hate each other without being antithesis - such as the Desolation and the Corruption. It’s also worth mentioning that overlap always exist between mirrors, of course; this is why there is a classic duality between the moon and the sun, but no one talks about the duality between the moon and a giraffe, even though they have much less in common.

That said, here is my list:

The Vast - The Buried: the most widely agreed upon. Spaces too large versus too small. The terrible freedom of being adrift in an endless ocean, of freefall, versus being crushed in place with not the space to crawl an inch. You get it. The comparison is so clear and easy that it kickstarts the speculation about all the others.

The Eye - the Dark: extremely straightforward; just as much as the Vast and the Buried, to me. Knowledge versus the lack of it. Stark light versus impenetrable darkness. What sees you versus what you cannot see. Literally symbolized respectively by an open eye and a closed one.

The Corruption - the Lonely: Toxic love versus miserable isolation. An overabundance of company, much too close, under your very skin, a swarm of uninvited guests within your deepest sanctuary who will not leave, versus a life so barren of any company at all that that you might almost start to crave the former. The heat of fever versus the cold of fog.

The Web - the Desolation: careful planning versus reckless destruction. A trap so intricately laid, hundreds of delicate moving pieces and redundancy measures waiting for just the right time… so easily laid to waste by an unthinking, spontaneous act of cruel hunger for rubbles. Man’s quest, since the dawn of time, has been to tame and leash fire. And we still haven’t mastered it.

The Hunt - the End: a wild fight for life versus its cold ending. The journey versus the destination. The two oldest fears. The Chase wants more than anything to never End. The End doesn’t Chase; it just waits. And you’re the one that walks towards it every instant.

The Stranger - the Slaughter: here is the part of the list where people start to look at me oddly, because they’ve often never considered those pairings; but hear me out, and remember that I am inarguably correct. The fear of something Else pretending to be human versus the fear of what truly lies at the core of every human person. The fear of being tricked by an elaborate disguise versus the intimate knowledge of the truth: that those who hurt others aren’t monsters disguised as people. They’re just people. And the urge is in you too. Masks, versus what is revealed when all masks are cast off. And they both have musical motifs which makes for some fun parallels.

The Spiral - the Flesh: the horror of the mind versus the horror of the body. Unreality versus a reality only too physical, only too inescapable. Your brain is lying to you, but your body keeps the score. Follow the patterns, the Spiral says, there is more, they are lying to you, just follow me down - this is all there is, the Flesh whispers, this is the raw and dripping truth, this is all you are and you will never escape it. The Distortion even admits it can’t digest an avatar of the Flesh.

#you can argue with me about these but be warned I will not change my mind. I have given this so much thought and I am convinced about it. #Johnny himself couldn’t convince me otherwise

[chimerahyperfix]

You are a scientist. You like testing theories, making hypothesis. Working with dangerous materials that get you scolded. You are a scientist, and you are also a writer! You’ve swung at a few things before: sappy poems, work papers, crab, you’ve even attempted a horror short at Mirabelle’s inquiry. You’re favorite thing to write, though, are just basic letters.

You like to write letters. It's easier, to you, to write your thoughts on a piece of paper and hide it somewhere the recipient can find than to tell them what you think face-first. You’ve done it for years, long before you even came to the House to learn about the Change religion. A childhood habit that’s rolled over through your life like a wave on the sea.

So, of course, when time begins to loop, you write. Many, many letters. They all get lost to time when it twists back, and now, many loops in, that leaves a hole in your heart and a spot in your brain you can’t itch, for the words of each letter are mostly forgotten before you fight the King. It’s… fine, you guess? You can word things as many ways as you need to. Anything described can be described some more, after all.

For the first handful of loops, you wrote the same letters. Rather sappy, lovey things, your specialty. The furthest depths of your heart smeared onto a page for eternity, for you love and love and love, and you want those around you to know it.

Though as time trudges on, the same twenty four hours over and over in a nice single circuit built for it to run through, built by wishes and stars and twisted leaf-baring branches, so do your thoughts; therefore your letters move so, too, to adapt. More theoretical things. Questions. Ifs, ands ors buts and whys. Sadder ones after the bad loops, wailing and endlessly upset and mourning those who froze and those who were killed for standing in the King's way.

They get angrier as time goes on. More enraged. Wrath melts into the corners, edges fold and tear and warp under the weight. You stop delivering them, because you're here in this time loop hell to protect the ones you love, and you'd just make it worse if you gave them a letter like that.

You write a scathing letter, once. You write it after an absolutely abysmal loop, ending with blood and tears and probably the loudest you've ever screamed. It flows onto the page easily, and you leave it out on your desk, because you were hungry and hadn't eaten that loop with how beside yourself stressed you were.

Mirabelle finds it. Asks you, quite worried, if you're okay. You must've said something, and it had to be bad, because she flinched away from you like you'd tried to light her ablaze.

You panicked. Time looped.

Never again.

You hide them, after that. Shoved in your pillowcases or in piles of books, stacks of other papers. In the barrels. When you write only one or two you shove them in a bottle and push them to the back of your potions.

You're a shedding snake, a leopard changing its spots. Time is your prisoner and you are it's, and that melts into you as a human being until you are flesh and blood and twenty four hours that shouldn't continue.

Words spill from you, your mind, onto the page. You don't read them anymore. Just write and write and write, and tuck them away and pray no one finds them. You long for the days you could sit and write sappy love letters-- and sometimes, you still do them, but they're tinged with something, regret or rage or the absolute despair you feel, they're wrong, so they're tucked away as well. Letters just wrong, noticeably so. You’d be asked what’s wrong. Cornered. You can hear it now, “What’s wrong? What does this mean?” And all you can think of is the horrors you’ve seen.

One of these loops, whenever you get out, you expect to have a pile of ramblings with time-burnt letters and tear-stained edges. Whenever you get out, if there are any, you'll burn them. As a rite of passage, or something. A Change. Because time changed you, and the less people have to know about it the better. You can't get rid of your rotten voice or the tiredness in your bones or the way your brain has twisted to think, but you CAN get rid of letters.

You like to write. The horrors you write, of twisted time and dying and what being frozen in time is like— it can go. No one needs to know. No one WILL know. It’ll all fall on you, like every other crabbing thing in the time loops. And that’s okay, it’s enough.

#isat #in stars and time #claude looping au #isat claude #in craft and cages #isat au #isat spoilers #<- eh? in reference to like 2 things? I’m dancing the edge here #I’m MAKING SHIT UP!!!!! #common icac read more to not clog tag for being 500 or smth words #YO THINK FAST [throws this at u at Mach 5] #this one calls out claude’s enjoyment of writing being twisted by the loops! smile! #me: oh I’m gonna write some cute shit 4 the au for once #also me: writes this??? instead? #I really do gotta write the nicer things for the au lmao I gotta be nice to claude 4 once #chimera writes

[hamartia-grander]

Of the many things that I could complain about regarding Bg3, this one being less important but still annoying to me, the fact that Wyll and Karlach leave your party no matter what if you attack the grove (or, hell, that any character leaves your party permanently when the threat of being instantly mind-flayer'd still exists) frustrates me.

Let's not look at it from a D&D standpoint, even, because this is ultimately a video game, not a ttrpg - though I'd argue that in real D&D, the fact that no single player would be in charge of everything and that there's way more room for personalised routes would add nuance to this. But from a video game standpoint, removing vital characters due to decisions rather than death as a means of consequence for a player's actions drastically lowers the quality of the playthrough. You're not just missing out on lovely characters like Karlach and Wyll (who are also my favourite characters but that's beside the point), you're losing entire segments of the story, you're losing a great amount of depth from the story, just to pursue different choices.

Larian fails in the "evil" routes because they very obviously just punish the player for being excessively "evil" (not even discussing the dark urge here, just a regular playthrough), and scrape away chunks of the story rather than creatively working the narrative around different decisions the player could make. Like, I can roll deception or persuasion to keep Gale in the party after raiding the grove, but I can't do the same for Wyll or Karlach? The game teaches us that as soon as we leave the radius of the prism, the protection of the Guardian who is actively holding back the Absolute's commands to have us turned into mind flayers, we are instantly turned into mind flayers. And yet they don't account for that when having other characters leave the party. They tried making a branching narrative where the characters feel like D&D players but without the actual autonomy and personhood behind the characters that makes D&D so complex and enjoyable.

Not to mention it's EASILY a cop out to stop having to write for these characters in an evil playthrough. Like, oh, rather than spend more time considering how Wyll and Karlach would respond to these decisions down the line, rather than fleshing out their own struggles with their morals not aligning with their actions, Larian just wrote them out of the story entirely. But, despite having the same kind of moral crisis, Gale can stay... Hm...

And again, you could tell me all you want about how it "makes sense" for Karlach and Wyll to leave as a result of this, and I'd agree with you, but my point is not that it doesn't make sense, it's that they've established there's SO much more at stake here than our morals. By removing two entire characters from the storyline without any consideration for nuance, they are only punishing us for pursuing "bad" routes. I'm tired of it.

#Bg3 #Guys read the fucking post before commenting ffs #larian critical #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 analysis #Karlach #Wyll Ravengard #Karlach Cliffgate #Bg3 karlach #Bg3 Wyll

[aelinschild]

Dropping this and running away.

Regular evenings seemed to come less frequently these days.

Aelin remembered when the drip of some leaky floorboard was the sole pace of her shifts. The dripdripdrip a marker of seconds passed. Ticking in the back of her skull like a pulse she'd long forgotten. A beating heart settled - put down. It's gentle sounding no different than a petulant child. Itching underneath her skin like the uncomfortable scratch of wool gone too long without washing.

She had grown fond of the noise, though. Like the hand of a clock steadily raced forward, so did that godsdamned floorboard. Racing against time, or the composition of the building in it's entirety. She didn't know. Didn't care.

Much of what she did here was just for the wad of cash slipped under worn tables. Hands cracked and peeling - slivers near her nail beds. The blood lasted on the money, so long as it stayed with her longer than a night.

It was why she was still here. Still watching the same game of poker begin for its thousandth consecutive time. Roucous chatter drowning out the drip. The sound of heavy coins denting the rotted wood.

Funny, how it was strong enough to pierce her skin and simultaneously bend to the weight of a piece of silver.

She didn't take well to the irony.

Her shifts had for so long been the same routine. Serve the regulars. Pocket a coin from the gaggle of grannies, crammed into the recess in the wall. A little alcove. Made great shadows to conceal the trick of fast hands and faster tongues. Wipe down the tacky residue that accumulated faster than she could keep track of. Argue with the old man from across the street - he didn't like the (outrageous) fractured neon lights. Pity for him, because when he was knee deep in his points, face red from exasperation, pulling out a chair had the most similar movements as a sly hand into a pocket. Cool cash crawling up her sleeve. He'd leave in a huff and Aelin would be a little lighter when she missed back behind the bar. Then the night would roll in on itself. Drunkenness a curse of this corner of the Earth, she was only powerful enough to keep her head above water and do her job. Close the bar. Count the cash. Wire it away and consider mourning the loss. Until she wouldn't and was back behind the counter.

That was her normal.

And so when her flagging gaze swept across the floor, the appearance of a new piece on the board made her falter. She wished there would be more reaction than the stuttering of her eyes, wished that she felt something deeper, drawn from newness, but there was nothing.

Nothing walked closer to her. She had the thought to smile, make herself pleasant, but the action didn't follow. Nothing laid large hands upon her bartop, the one to her right (nothing's left), crawling with whorls and scribbles. Like a child had gotten a hold of a tattoo gun. How unfortunate. Those hands - large, uncomfortably so - were attached to arms. Shocking, she supposed, as her eyes crawled up along the weaving tattoo. Golden skin and visible definition could have heated something in her. Maybe it did, maybe it had been so long she no longer knew what heated her core.

"...neat,"

Hm?

The dripdripdrip was gone. And with it took the clarity borne from acute annoyance. Hands, arms, shoulders... Was she warm? Or was she losing it?

"Love."

Like a fog had descended over her minds eye, snapped away as quickly as it had formed at the call of that petname. Love. What?

She balked. "Pardon?"

He - nothing, nothing of nothing who is nothing and of no effect to her - pursed his lips. Rolling the flesh between teeth, tightening the hinge of his jaw. Gods, there was definition there too. The angle of that jaw raised to high chedckbones, a tinge of red, pulsed with life. An overwhelming urge to follow that rise and fall, trace the hollows and contours. Feel along the strong brow that framed pine green eyes. Eye that sparkled. Eyes that tightened. Eyes lined with mirth...

"You work here?" He gruffed. The smirk in his eyes didn't reach his voice. But that voice... She'd love to compare it to crashing waves, smoothing over jagged rock. Endlessly leaving a print on what was considered impenetrable. But it instead stroke along a frayed edge in her. Breaking, rather than soothing.

A pause. Where were her words? "Yes."

"Right," he murmured. Muscles flexing as he rapped his knuckles along the worn bartop. She wanted to tell him to not. Grab his fist in her own and hold tight above the shitty wooden slab. Cover it with her own. "Then I'll get a whiskey. Neat."

Crawl over the tanned skin. "Of course." Trace the inked designs. "Just give me moment." Litter a marking somewhere.

Something tangible.

-

"Yes!"

She didn't know how it had really happened.

Well, she did. She had played her part, and now was enjoying the outcome. Somewhere along the lines of him ordering the whiskey, leaning only lightly against the barstool, delicately draped like he was ready to spring up at a moment notice. She had wandered around. Who knew that dust collected so quickly on tables that were just cleaned? Repetitive movements only let her drift into the sensation of green eyes pinned to her back. Lower, even.

She needed extra cleaner from the back. And it was only an accident that her hand grazed his upper thigh. She had practice in the deft movements that could steal a pretty coin, but her fingers didn't dig in, clasping around valuables. Rather, she had grazed the worn jean. Lighting a blaze, trailing the fire down to his knee.

It had pulsed in her core as she walked to the back room. The bar quieter, different to the usual rowdiness of a Saturday. She had swayed her hips a little more. Sensual machinations coming back like the flip of a switch. She felt a buzz in her head, unlike a dripdripdrip of a leaky floorboard.

It was stuffy. Her face so close to his, the height difference didn't serve them well at first, until he had hoisted her up around his waist. Her legs locking her tight. She had felt the heat of his body. Felt the heat through the clothes - get them off - felt the heat from her body, emanating out in a pulsing rhythm.

She had been panting. Breath coming out faster and faster as she wiggled her hips to tuck deeper into the hardness she felt pressing into her core. Writhing would get her nowhere when he was holding her in his arms. Her mouth found the underside of his jaw, and she sucked hard.

His groan was music to her ears.

Her apron fell. Ripped apart by those large hands. How much could they hold? He was surprisingly deft with unbuttoning the front of her dirty blouse. Button after button, down until he could rip it from her waistband, and shuck it off her shoulders.

Her bra was nothing special. Some department store sale piece, but it didn't matter, because it was off just as quickly and she was bare from the waist up.

"Off." She tugged at his shirt, taking a break from marking up his neck. She wanted to feel him against her. Skin to skin. She needed the contact more than anything. She was burning.

He had leaned her back, still in his hold. A little rough, her head nearly crashing into the wall they were pressed up agaisnt. She'd forgive him though, when he snaked one arm behind his head and expertly peeled the shirt from his torso.

Gods. Gods above, was this her lucky night. The tattoo wound all the way from his wrisr to his neck, matching like a puzzle along his chest. Corded with muscle, Built from genuine use, she could tell. This man was not built of aesthetics.

Her fingers found the hardened planes of his stomach, pressing lightly along the muscles. It tightened under her hand. Palms pushing agains the tautness of his abdomen, she didn't know whether to trail back up to his mouth, or push lower.

"Hold on," he bit out. Breathless just as she was.

She dug her nails into the shoulder she was tracing, his hand snaked to the button on his jeans. Her breaths came more rapidly now. Blood rushing through her ears. It was hands and tongues and teeth and no other thoughts. Nothing but what would come next. Nothing at all.

The zipper was so loud amongst their panting. But it was pulled down, and Aelin made a effort to shuck off her pants as well. But where her thighs were stretched around his waist kept her from making any further moves. She wanted nothing between them.

"Hurry up," she hissed, pressing herself back against him.

He shuddered when she pulled him tight, nails digging deeper. She hoped they would mark him. Stay with him longer then this moment. "Gods." It's not soft the way he shoves them closer into the wall. The way his hand is under her nondescript panties in seconds. Burning a trail along the most intimate skin. He stalls there for a second. Aelin is pulsing; in her head, in her blood, in her cunt.

His eyes find hers. Green and vibrant and swirling and dark. All blown wide with lust. He keeps her trapped there, pinned by his gaze while his fingers swipe along her folds. Through them, deeper until they wetten with the arousal she surely though was dripping down her leg by this point. He traces along for a moment, and she has half a mind to snap at him to hurry it up when his thumb is pressing into her clit so hard she sees stars.

She squeaks out a breathless yelp.

"You're soaking," he drawls, mouth coming down to the skin at the coloumn of her neck. He breaths into her, breathes her in. "Just waitin' for me, weren't you? All pretty behind your bar top."

She would roll her eyes if they weren't already at the back of her skull from the pleasure. He kept a steady hand on her clit while rough fingers slipped back through her folds, down to where she needed him most. Yes. The roar in her head heightened.

"Please..."

He hummed. "Please what?" A smirk, in voice or against her skin, she could not tell "Please who?"

Fuck. She hadn't gotten his name either. They had tumbled into the closet so quickly, bodies pressed so close, that introductions had been skipped. She thought she could make it throigh without his name. But this bastard was going to hold it over her head.

Fingers traced around her entrance; probing, waiting.

"Please... Sir. Fuck me."

He laughed. She jostled with the movement and his fingers pushed against her just right. "I'll let it slide," and with little pause, he pushed in. Slicking in quick, easy, the slide only assisted with the way she was falling apart in waiting for him. Two - two - fingers stretching her wide and pushing that rising wave higher. She keened a breathy whine when he curled those rough fingers. Pressing hard into that spot inside of her she could never reach herself.

His breath curled around her ear. He bit the shell of it before murmuring "But you better call me Rowan. No Gods or Sir. I want to hear my name from those pretty lips."

She nodded, feverish for more. He bared his teeth in a satisfied smile, increasing the pace of his fingers inside of her. She had hardly noticed when he swapped his thumb for the heel of his palm against her clit. But she felt it now. Pushing against her whole he slicked up her panties. The wave rose higher and higher.

"Rowan!" She cried. "Ah! Don't stop... Please."

"Wasn't even thinking of it, love." He kept her trapped under his gaze. And she wanted to look away when her jaw dropped in white-hot pleasure but something in his eyes promised to hurt if she did. "There you go, pretty girl." She moaned at his comment, riding high after the crashing of the orgasm. She could feel every press of his fingers inside her as he stilled them, still sensitive even after the rush of pleasure.

And oh, was she riding a fine line. Legs a little shaky and breath hurried. But when Rowan pulled out - to her displeasure - and brought those hands to his face, to his mouth, and licked her clean off of them.

She whined. A pitchy sound that worked its way out of her as he stared into her eyes, licking along the crevices between fingers. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but he quickly shoved those same fingers against her tongue and pressed down. Freezing her there.

"Taste like heaven, love. But that was only the first course"

Jeans ripped off and pants pulled down. She swapped the wall against her back for cold air. Stiffening nipples to an even harder peak than what they had come to in post-orgadmic bliss. More more more, she changed in her head. She was so sensitive and so ready and so-

She squeaked. He had pulled himself from the confines of his underwear. She has missed it. Blissed out with the feel of him against his chest, but he was there, notching against her entrance in hasty movements.

He eyes met hers, "Condom?"

Fuck her. "I'm on the pill."

His grin was feral. His grip tightened to a near bruising hold. She felt his cock prod at her entrance, and he pushed it around, catching on the arousal she had spilled. At least he had prepped her. She hadn't seen his size, had felt it, yes, but this man seemed like he was blessed, if only judging by what she had already seen.

The moment spans, and her what desire jumped thrpigh her at a rushing pace came to a near stall. The dripdripdrip threatening to return, when the air was punched from her lungs as he pushed up, up and into her in one stoke.

"Ah! Rowan!" She choked. Stretched so full she felt him in her stomach. Tears brimmed her eyes as the stretch ached. Gods, the prep wasn't enough, and the tight grip on him must have let him know, as he held still, caressing her back and down to her ass, before his hand snaked back around to her clit.

She moaned, sharp little breaths as he circled his finger with enough pressure to relax the tightness in her body. She hadn't noticed, but when she looked up to his eyes, wanting to see him fully, his jaw was tensed so tight that the muscles of his neck pulled. Was he in pain?

"Ah... Rowan, wh-whats wrong?" Her tears brimmed and fell over. A loosening in her core and a rushing through her mind. Every sensation was a fire lit inside of her, so much so that she didn't notice as the pain morphed into pleasure, and how she could feel every ridge, every vein, of his cock inside of her. Inside of her, gods, he needs to move.

"Nothing," he gave a shallow thrust, Aelin keened. "Jus' squeezing me so fuckin' tight I can barely breath."

"Y-yeah?" She laughed, salty lines tracing down her face. "Gonna come?"

The words were out of her mouth before she had really considered the implication of them. She was no sadist, liked the high better then the route there, but something in her tingled (beside his cock, nudging deeper and deeper with every breath) at the fire that lit in his eyes.

He laughed, a deep rumble from within, and moved. Soon, they were back up against the wall. Aelin squeezed him so tight, wanting some pleasure and wanting it now. And maybe she was egging him on more. But when Rowan tossed her legs up above the crook of his elbows - rendering her immobile - and pulled out, she almost came again there.

He pushed back in with so much force that her hands came up to cover her mouth. He set a relentless pace, hair falling over his brow and beads of sweat beginning to form at his brow. He leaned over her, pushing closer and closer and testing the limits of her flexibility. Aelin was still moaning, but it was punched out in a yelp every time his cock shoved deeper inside. The slick noises only added to the lewdness. "You gonna come? Huh, love? Gonna come for me now or do I need to fuck you harder?"

He was teasing her.

He leaned down, she dropped her hand, expecting his mouth to close over hers. But he just smirked. When his tongue traced the lines of her tears, licking all the way up her face, she closed her eyes and let go. Falling deeper into the sensation.

It wasn't long before he bored of licking her face. His mouth did finally come to her, and she let him into her mouth so fast that her head was spinning. He still thrusted in, a relentless thwap at every entrance inside of her, and she felt the wave rising again. She traced up his abs, winding around his shoulders to grip onto his hair and pull, just as he pushed in so deep she saw stars.

"Come," he growled. Tiny little movements only to plant himself deeper inside. The roaring came back to her head and she nearly screamed when it hit her. Harder than anything she felt before. Harder than she knew how to handle. Rowan groaned above her, and that was it.

He came inside her. Flooded her cunt so thoroughly it was actually uncomfortable. And it dripped down when he pulled out with little celebration. She whined at the loss of him. Whined more when he set her on her feet and stepped away.

"Thanks, love." He said, breathless and reverent. She felt lost in the aftermath. Head empty and body shocked.

"Yeah. Yeah, no problem...?" It came out as a question and she didn't know what to think. He grabbed a tissue from someplace and offered it to her. Well, at least he did something. Strange and beautiful man. Rowan, oh Rowan.

"Fucked you so hard you forget how to think, huh?" He smiled. Less feral than before, but still the edge of a knifes blade inside of those green eyes. She just nodded, reaching for her clothes that had been scattered on the floor.

She guessed that he was giving her space to come down, giving her a moment. But it crashed into the dirt when he gripped her chin between his forefinger and thumb and searched so deep into her eyes. He held her in his grip, both naked and reeling, and said, "don't shut me out, love." Before he pressed his lips to hers again. Kissing the roaring in her head to a stop and breathing something into her. Something she'd like to hold onto.

"I'll be back. Proper date and all soon, alright love?" He said as he stepped into his pants. Dressing with all the grace he had exhibited while fucking her a moment ago. What? He just moved for the door, shucking his shirt back over those beautiful shoulders and hiding the length of his tattoo. "Don't wander too far away anytime. I don't want to waste my time chasing."

The door opened, just a crack, "I'll see you soon, Aelin."

When Aelin was clothed and less in mental limbo, she pulled on the conversation (one-sided). Some deep, darker part of her was satisfied to see the nails marks she had driven into his back. Some tangible sore he'd no doubt have to clean up, if he wanted the blood off. She smiled to herself.

It wasn't until she was stepping out of the backroom that she realized Rowan had called her Aelin. Had said goodbye to Aelin.

She had never told him her name.

#yes this is smut #yes this is rowaelin #yes this is unedited and has no plot but who cares #certainly not me #this was writen on my phone while at work so dont hold me to any standard #oh and suprise i guess??? lol this is my reapparance before i run away again #rowaelin #rowaelin fic #rowaelin fanfic #aelin x rowan #aelin galathynius x rowan whitethorn #aelin fireheart #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #throne of glass #aelin galythinius #rowan x aelin #aelinschild #also idk why rowan is british in this wtf #i wanted him to call aelin 'doll' or 'pet' but im not sure i have the audience for that LOL

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Waltzing Waves

Author’s note: This is the song this is based off of. More Mermay, with dear Reader. It's a lovely bop.

Warnings: gender neutral reader, threats, allusions to death, and murder, drowning, let me knows if I need to add more.

Summary: Reader barely survived encountering a wave-soaked mer-astartes. Reader hadn’t realized they were real and not folk tales, or legends told by the sailors to frighten and impressive those who are land dwelling.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams, @sleepyfan-blog

Tagged Again: @kit-williams, @sleepyfan-blog, @whorety-k

You were on your fishing boat, it had been in your family for years, patched and faded in some places, but well loved and cared for so that it would take care of you. The sea gives and takes, is one of the lessons that your parents had taught you. Memories of your father’s calloused hands gently guiding yours in how to cast the nets from the boat. How to be patient, quiet and watch the sea and skies for the changing, dangerous nature of the weather in the area where you lived out amongst the waves.

You felt the tugs and carefully grabbed up the net, and groan a little, both with effort and hope, it had been a week with very little to show for fishing, so to have the net so heavy was a boon and a blessing, even if it was really heaving and struggling against you with the weight of the fish that you caught. You almost dropped the net back into the water and lost the catch but with a heavy and a curse you pull the catch inside the boat and look to see what’s in your net. What would have to be tossed back, after all, sustainable fishing practices, as well as being concerned about the planet, despite the fact that it meant less money in your coffers, the fish would replenish in the seas better that way.

Your heart drops when you notice something tangled up amongst the fish is something that glints like metal. It was massive and large, with scales that you trace from an aquatic life form to something that looks far more human and your stomach clenches and you gulp in air as you realize what, it was that you caught. He had fins where his feet should be, and his eyes were red as blood, hair as gold as the sun, his features, were hauntingly beautiful, and his angry hissing sound, and the growls as she skitters back a bit. Oh no. You’d accidentally caught an Astartes, this was a very dangerous situation and not dying or being brutally maimed was now your goal. Hopefully he might forgive you if you are very careful.

“Come closer, Human,” The Astartes croons at her in heavily accented language of the locals. “And I’ll eat you alive, like you would have done to me.”

“Please don’t feast upon my flesh,” Your lips tremble and your legs buckle as they gaze upon his massive irate form and you plead, “If I return you to the sea, please let me live?”

The Astartes glares down at you impassively with a sneer, his teeth look terribly sharp. The Astartes glares down at you haughtily from where he’s been tangled in the net, likely still only in it for… some reason. You know that they can, or at least so you heard, can swim through the seas and air.

“I will let you go, but quickly leave these waters,” The Astartes hisses out you with a vicious glare. “If you drop your nets amongst these waves, then my brother’s and I will take you down with us.”

You gulp and nod, quickly and as carefully as you can dump the net, fish and Astartes both back in, barely reeling the net back in to your boat. Before you can start to roar, a massive, clawed hand, from the Astartes you’d accidentally caught. You yelped as he tugged you close with a sharp glare.

“I want something in return for not harming you human,” He hisses.

“W-what?” You ask nervously, he’s so handsome and terrifying at the same time.

“A kiss,” He says, he’d noticed the mixture of terror and attraction in your scent with a slight smirk.

You blush and nod and he press a swift, hard kiss to your lips and then lets you go as fast as he had grabbed you. Your cheeks are pink as you start to head back to the dock as fast as you could safely. Occasionally glancing back at where the Astartes was, or possible still is lurking under the waves. You unintentionally like your lips, they taste of salt and iron as you rub your face and hook your boat up to the dock and stagger down the docks, perhaps, you should let your younger brother take over the family business- and have him go to a different fishing spot while you took over more of the administrative duties.

Sleep is hard to come by that night, and the next several weeks you are haunted by the Astartes in the water that you had accidentally caught. His red eyes and golden hair. His large, long, muscular form. He’d look like a gorgeous statue glittering in the sun, as much as he’d terrified you. And that kiss it haunted you, his lips had been softer than you’d expected, and of that salt and iron. You groan and rub your face, unable to sleep as you stagger to the shore and stare into the water, your joints had been aching something fiercely recently, and the water looked so inviting right now.

#warhammer 40k #space marine husbandry sentience #space marine husbandry #adeptus astartes #warhammer #mermay #mermay 40k #mermay 2024 #Poor Unfortunate Souls AU #OC: Zadakael #reader insert

[originalaccountname]

Fun BSD French translation details and choices - DEAD APPLE (by someone who does not understand Japanese but thinks the differences with the English translation/subtitles are fun)

The Dead Apple movie hasn't received the French dub treatment, so this time I'm going with subtitles only. The differences should be less jarring, since they don't need to worry about lip flaps this time. Also it's longer for obvious reasons.

General notes:

Starting strong with calling the Dragon's Head Conflict "la lutte pour la tête" (the struggle for the head) and that it "decimated every [criminal] organization [in Yokohama]".

Chuuya calls Oda "le lampiste" (the lamplighter), which is also an expression to refer to someone as the lowest-ranking member of something.

Dazai called Corruption "la Corruption noire" (the black/dark Corruption).

"Was this someone that had captured your heart?" / "If she had been my beloved, I would have perished with her."

"Odasaku... you were right. Helping others is much more wonderful... but only as long as we're alive.

Shibusawa's tower's name was translated, it's called "la Forteresse des cadavres" (The Cadavers' Fortress).

Chuuya's nickname for Ango is "prof bigleux". "Bigleux" is a super informal way of referring to someone who can't see anything without their glasses. It also sounds super funny (ask google translate to say it for you)

Rashoumon is refered to with he/him pronouns

Shibusawa's fog is called "Le Soupir du dragon" (the Dragon's Breath/Sigh). 'Soupir' means 'sigh', but it's also a more poetic way of saying an exhale/a breath out.

Nya in Japanese, Meow in English, Miaou in French 🐱

Atsushi: "Boys need to get their claws out to survive!"

Chuuya's speech pattern is slightly different than others even in written form: we don't have a lot of written contractions in French, but something you can do to give the impression of a spoken/lazy vocabulary is the equivalent of "do not" vs "don't", and forgo the "ne" from "ne pas". Ex: Do not yell! -> Ne crie pas! VS Don't yell! -> Crie pas!

Chuuya called Ango "le lampiste" (the lamplighter) like he did for Oda while in the aircraft ("try to keep your shit" moment), so he's preemptively calling him a low-ranked guy with no power.

"I'm not gonna piss myself and run away either. You know when I'll be allowed to? Quite simply, not at any point." CHUUYA

Apparently the French subs decided Chuuya becomes gravitons during Corruption. Try to work this one out.

"You believed in me and use your Corruption? How touching." // "That was a rather violent way to wake up poor Snow White."

The way Agatha speaks, instead of warning them of having sent a special force to burn down Japan, she is telling them that in order to help them, she has sent special force their way. They'll be starting in 30 minutes, you're welcome :)

Dazai, Fyodor and Shibusawa all use the informal "you" with each other. Tsujimura uses the formal "you" with Chuuya. Ango uses the informal "you" with her.

Today's quotes:

VF: En ce qui me concerne, les autres ne sont que des sacs de viande dont je connais les rouages. (As far as I'm concerned, other people are but meat sacks to which I know the inner workings.) Eng: To me, people are nothing but machines of flesh, behaving in identifiable ways.

VF: Comment as-tu pu faire ça? Ce n'est pas du tout... agréable... (How could you? This isn't very... nice...) Eng: How could you? This feels great.

VF: Ce débile de Dazai est sans doute à l'intérieur de cette chose. Je dois lui coller une bonne droite pour me soulager. (That dimwit Dazai is undoubtedly inside that thing. I need to punch him good to calm myself.) Eng: That dimwit Dazai is inside there. No doubt about it. I need to give him a smack, or I'll never get over it.

#bsdrewatch2023 #bsd french dub adventures #<- a lie today #bsd #apparently i talk sometimes

[gauloiseblue]

I am literally insane for I'm only Flesh and Blood like HOLY FUCK

Imagine if it turns out he's infertile or smth. Bro would adopt kids just to keep his wife in line 😭

Does anything between them change after the attempted escape incident? Like aside from pregnancy. How would things change when he does manage to get her pregnant though? I feel like he would keep forcing himself on her until she gets pregnant. How would that go?

I hope you're ready for long paragraphs, because I'm about to make an essay out of this.

Yes, he might consider adopting another child if he fails to make her pregnant. But consider this; he chooses to hire a maid for her, and she looks a lot like Nina. It's like a cruel game for him, because she can't get attached to her. He'll kill her when that happens. But she can't ignore her too, because if she disobeys him, the maid will be the one who suffers the consequences. 

I actually planned to write a continuation for it, but I doubt the audience would like a wlw fic, moreover when it follows The Handmaiden storyline. Bc let's be honest, we want him to win.

About the incident, well, I think she'd be traumatized by it. Which is dangerous, because it creates an opening for him to get into her heart. Because when he keeps treating her well, she'll eventually succumb to Stockholm syndrome. When she comes to accept her situation and begins to see the good in him, then it's over for her.

You guessed it right. He'll keep forcing himself on her until she's pregnant. But he'll change his method. He'll make it less unpleasant for her, and will put an effort to make her cum beforehand. He won't shame her anymore, instead, he'll praise her for taking him so well. When she's positive on pregnancy, he'll become softer. He'll do things that she (subconsciously) finds loveable, like providing extra blankets for her, massaging her feet, giving her space when she needed, etc. While it seems sweet and all, it's just his way to make her more compliant. And it works.

Oh, and he'll let her walk outside once they moved to Austria. He'll let her walk around the garden, and a little further to the woods. It benefits him both ways, because it lessens the stress from being trapped inside the house for so long. But at the same time, it's impossible for her to make an escape. She has no way of knowing the exit, and she can't run that fast when she's heavily pregnant. 

It's likely that he'll hire a helper to take care of the baby. For a reason that he doesn't like having her attention taken away from him. He'll choose someone whom he can trust, and someone who can't speak her language. I might write the continuation of IOFAB, but in the helper's POV (no promise tho). I don't know, it sounds interesting to see their dynamic thru 3rd person lens.

#cw: pregnancy??? #anon ask #cod #call of duty #konig x reader #should i really put cw?? #as if the pregnancy part is the most fucked up part of this post smh #IOFAB

[jjkamochoso]

Once More to See You

Angst; Hurt no Comfort

⚠️JJK CHAPTER 259 SPOILERS IN THIS STORY UNDER THE CUT⚠️

Choso x gn!reader

As you, Choso, and Yuji make a last stand against Sukuna, you feel the anguish of your love leaving you behind. Loosely I nspired by Mitski’s “Once More to See You”

Warnings: canonical character death, description of a body burning

[In the rearview mirror I saw the setting sun on your neck/ And felt the taste of you bubble up inside me/ But with everybody watching us, our every move, we do have reputations/ We keep it secret, won't let them have it]

You never thought it would come to this. You stood across from Sukuna, Yuji and Choso by your side. With the way the King of Curses was staring you down with all of his eyes, you knew he was about to release a completely devastating cursed technique. You so desperately wanted to shield Yuji from all the pain and suffering he’d been through, yet he was standing tall on the battlefield, undeterred by the notion of possibly dying (another) horrendous death. You also, selfishly, wanted to reach out and grasp Choso’s hand to feel the flesh of your secret lover for what was probably going to be the last time.

It wasn’t that you and Choso had meant to keep your relationship as quiet as you did, it was just that your timing was remarkably bleak. Kenjaku had been running rampant when you two first found solace in each other’s arms. You had lots of free time to get to know each other while protecting Tengen and since then, you’d forged an unbreakable bond that eventually turned romantic and the rest was history. You both did have reputations to keep, however. Choso was supposed to be a fearless half curse, while you were revered for your strong technique and cursed energy control. Neither of you wanted to show your enemies that you had a weakness for each other so staying on the down low with your secret caresses and stolen kisses under the moonlight was the way you were content spending your time with him. In a way, it was nice to have this one thing between you that wouldn’t have the stain of Sukuna or whoever else was threatening your safety at the time. There was no gossip or teasing from your teammates and no one was able to suggest that either of you wouldn’t be able to keep a level head while fighting together. You liked the simplicity of it all, though it was terrible when you needed the comfort of each other but people were around. Despite the few setbacks the parameters of your relationship had, you were grateful to be able to share in Choso’s bountiful love no matter how it presented itself.

Before you could create a domain or use your own cursed technique, you saw Sukuna move his hands to unleash his newest creation. You braced yourself for the death that was to come to you, closing your eyes in hopes of it hurting less if it came as a surprise. You were confused when you felt a new sensation of heat consuming all of your senses except one—touch. You opened your eyes to see flames barreling all around you, but being stopped by—

No.

He couldn’t.

He can’t.

He is.

Choso had enveloped the two people he loved the most in a blood barrier to stop them from succumbing to Sukuna. Your eyes refused to believe that what they were witnessing was real. You and Yuji were totally unharmed, yet Choso was withering away by the second. It was utterly macabre the way the skin you used to savor the feel of against your own was now melting off the bones of the man whose heart you were privileged enough to lay claim to. You wanted to look away and not have the image of Choso dying seared in your brain as the last moments you had with him, but you couldn’t break your horrified gaze away from his resolute one.

[So come inside and be with me/ Alone with me, alone with me, alone]

Without warning, you were transported to a whole other scene. Gone was Sukuna and his fiery destruction, and in its place was a green, grassy field filled with wildflowers and trees. A red and white gingham picnic blanket was under your body as you lounged next to an open wicker basket and familiar brown eyes peered into your own from the space across from you.

“Y/n.”

Choso’s voice was soft, raising goosebumps all over your skin. His fingers stretched to your face and your eyelids fluttered closed at his touch. He gently traced the pads of his fingers across your cheek and down your jaw. When you opened your eyes again, the sun was shining brightly behind him, illuminating his figure in a way that could only be described as angelic.

“Please don’t go,” you whispered.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be better to you. I’m sorry we had to hide all this time. I’ll find you in my next life, and the one after that. Take care of Yuji for me, will you?”

Choso’s lips spread into the boyish smile you loved. You were unsure as to how much time you had here with him so you nodded in agreement and threw yourself into his arms. He gripped you tight, keeping a hand on the back of your head to hold you as close as possible. His nose found a home on the top of your head, resting there for a few seconds before he gingerly placed a kiss there.

“I have to go. My brothers are calling me,” he said, pulling away from you but keeping his hands on your shoulders.

“Is there nothing I can do to change this?” you asked, tears falling freely. Choso felt himself begin to cry as well, leaving glistening trails down his face.

“This is my duty as a big brother and a boyfriend. Maybe as a husband, in another life.” You saw a pink dusting across his face at the mention of marriage. Yeah, you definitely would’ve married Choso.

“I’m lucky to have met such a caring, selfless man like you. When I look at the stars from now on, I’ll know none of them shine as brightly as you did. I love you.”

Choso leaned in and gave you one last kiss. It was soft but passionate, just like him. When you broke apart, he laid his forehead against your own.

“I love you too. Stand strong for me, okay?”

“Okay,” you replied, reaching to hold his hand one last time, but the mirage was gone and you were back in your hellish reality.

[If you would let me give you pinky promise kisses/ Then I wouldn't have to scream your name/ Atop of every roof in the city of my heart/ If I could see you, once more to see you]

“Thank you, Yuji, for becoming my brother. Thank you, y/n, for becoming my heart.”

“Thank you for everything, Choso.” You were able to squeeze out that final sentence from your lungs that held a tightness you didn’t know was humanly possible.

“Thank you… big brother,” Yuji sniffled, disbelief turning into unfathomable grief as the last of Choso disappeared into ash blowing away in the breeze. The blood barrier dissolved away from you two, leaving you alone with the fact that you just experienced the most traumatic moment of your lives and didn’t even have time to process it. It was eerily quiet now that Sukuna’s technique was done and Choso was dead. You felt empty, like all of the blood was drained out from your veins when Choso left you. Your heart ached as you yearned for the love you had just lost. No one would ever compare to the man who sacrificed himself for the sake of his younger brother and secret partner. You didn’t know what to do next, and neither did Yuji, apparent in the way you both stood, dumbfounded.

“It’s up to me to take care of you now,” you said, finally able to croak out some words from your dry throat.

“He loved you, you know,” Yuji said after a few beats of silence.

You released a slow, shuddering breath. “I know.”

More silence.

“He loved you too, Yuji.”

“I know.”

You didn’t know what else to say. There was nothing that could make this situation any more fathomable or digestible. You had to break out of your stupor before Sukuna recovered and killed you both. There was no way you were dying or allowing Yuji to get hurt any more, not after Choso died to make sure that didn’t happen. You had to push down the ache in your chest. You could mourn Choso later.

You were going to kill Sukuna.

#choso x reader angst #kamo choso x reader #choso kamo x reader #choso x you #choso x y/n #choso x reader #jjk x gender neutral reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic

[rileyglas]

Demonic Convergence - Pt. 1 - First Impressions

Hazbin Hotel OC Story x Alastor

It is here! Althea and Alastor meet an interesting new face in Cannibal Town. All the praise and credit to @laudrawin for not only providing her OC interactions but also the first incredible art piece for Part One! Story below the cut!

Meet the OCs

It was a quiet afternoon in Cannibal Town. Althea sat by the fountain, book in hand, as she waited for Alastor’s meeting with Rosie to wrap up. Thanks to Rosie the town was usually quite pleasant. Other than their acquired taste for flesh, the cannibal demons were polite and proper (so long as they weren’t too hungry). 

Althea’s reading is abruptly interrupted by sounds of feral snarling and yelling, causing her to jolt to her feet. She snaps her eyes towards the sounds coming from an alley across town square. Looking closer she sees a small group of demons huddled together, growling through hungry smiles. In the back of the group Susan shouts her usual insults and profanities, “Scrawny little shit! You idiots are wasting your time! Just snap him in half! Don’t break your teeth on him!” ~Uhg Susan…~

Between the cannibal’s heads and shoulders, a tall yet thin man stood slightly hunched with blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. His eyes glow teal as some bones float in front of him, pushing the cannibals away. The man looks like nothing but a sack of bones and ink and today he seems to have messed with the wrong people at the wrong time. 

He huffs, the shine in his eyes flickering. He feels his power slowly vanishing as one of the bigger cannibals manages to pick up a bone and break it. Though terrified, his expression remains cold and emotionless.

Althea can see he is far from prepared to handle the group before him. ~Must be a newbie~ she thinks to herself. Luckily over the years, she's earned a good reputation amongst the town thanks to all her help during the Exterminations. She pushes past the group with ease, placing herself between the cannibals and the man, "Alright guys move out! Go find someone with a bit more meat! What were you gonna do, use him as a toothpick? Let's go! Don't make me get Rosie!" she shoos the less than thrilled cannibals away. 

Turning her attention to the person behind her, she notices the blood still dripping from his mouth, "Are you okay? Did they hurt you?"

A couple bloody black feathers rest beneath him. His eyes stop shining, returning to their usual teal color. He's scratched and bitten, on the surface it appears as nothing serious. The demons seemed to have just taken a few tiny tastes, however the tattoos across his skin hide most of the purple bites and bruises. 

"These- mindless zombies-" He grunts, frustrated. To Althea, his irritation seems to come from the unfair fight but this was far from the truth. Inside he was seething over the lack of ability to control his attackers.

His perturbed expression makes her cock her head in intrigue, "Zombies? I mean I guess - wait what was with that glowy shit? It usually takes a while for newer sinners to figure out any possible power they possess." She takes a step back, realizing this might not be some weak, everyday new arrival to Hell.

“I’m not here for chatting” His eyes flash, attempting to conjure a portal beneath him. A small one flickers at his feet before disappearing again. He huffs at how much the attack weakened him, “Fuck-“ 

His gaze darts back to Althea. He takes a breath attempting to speak but is only met with blood expelling from his lungs in a deep cough. ~How fine, now they’ll come like sharks to blood~ he thinks. He ponders how losing would work here in Hell or rather, how dying works. Does it just… send him to the beginning of Hell again? Does his power vanish, forcing him to train all over again? Whatever the answer, he didn’t wish to find out. He looks at the blood in his hand, realizing the gravity of his injuries.

Althea stands on guard, still staring at the man. “What!?” He barks, agitated by his more than public failure. Her eyes narrow at him, trying to understand exactly what and how much power he has. She raises an eyebrow, "Look, you can keep your secrets. However being arrogantly stubborn won't get you far here. Let me heal you." She extends a hand to him. Should she trust this stranger? Her first instinct is to say no. But she knows at this moment, he isn't a danger and obviously needs help.

"Don't touch me!" He hisses, stepping away. "Don't you dare to put a hand on me!" His body tenses despite his weakened state. It's a primal feeling. What one would see as rage was really just his fight or flight response, his pupils shrank even more if that  was possible. He continues to step back until bumping into the brick wall behind him. The idea of being cornered makes his anxiety skyrocket. 

Seeing his apprehension, she retracts her hand and takes a few steps back. "Yeah guess saving you from becoming an afternoon snack isn't enough to earn your trust." she scoffs, somewhat frustrated by his coldness. She turns to leave but seeing him injured and backed against the wall makes her agitation melt into something softer. 

She hangs her head in personal defeat, throwing her words over her shoulder, "You obviously don't how things work around here so let me give you some advice - if someone in Hell is kind enough to offer help, you should take it." 

Althea faces him once again, eyes glowing a soft pink as she draws her power, "It would be wise to have -" she flicks her wrists, summoning a few needles floating above each hand, " - acquaintances in higher places."

With another quick movement of her wrist the needles disappear. She smirks at the man's reaction, "Name's Althea by the way. If you decide to heed my advice I'll be over by the fountain." She turns on her heel and begins walking back to the town center. 

"Can't you just not touch me?" He grunts, unimpressed but knowing he needs healing. "You can't trust anyone in Hell and I'm not becoming your pet for accepting your aid." He spits more blood, "Vexel." He tries to stand as straight as possible with a soft, ironic bow in introduction. 

A smirk crosses her face, but she drops it before walking back towards him. "Vexel...I do not require someone to be a pet to me but I do require them to keep their mouths shut on what I can do." her once kind tone is now just as cold as the man in front of her. "But since you're not here for chatting I suppose I don't have to worry about that."

She extends a hand once more, slower this time to not intimidate him, "And unfortunately, I have to do something a little more intimate than just hold your hand. Nothing here is easy, you'll come to learn. But I promise it doesn't hurt...well it won't hurt you." She braces for another refusal, already sensing his extreme discomfort in her offer.

"I talk to no one, generally." Vexel’s eyes snap to her hand, instinctually sticking to the safety of the wall behind him. He straightens as much as he can, demonstrating his near two meters of height. Fear bubbles in his chest. He tries to subdue the feeling with deep breaths to no avail. "Be quick." he commands through a frown. As he tightly closes his eyes, the sense of a familiar presence helps ease his mind ever so slightly. 

Althea sighs, feeling conflicted. It was uncommon for someone to have such apprehension towards her, especially one with his stature. He towered over her, how could he...be scared? It was hard to imagine he was actually fearful of her, so realistically, that can't be it. There's something more.

~I'm probably going to regret this~ she thinks before cautiously moving closer. Noticing he was already grimacing at the mere thought of touch, her usual method of healing (a kiss directly on the wound) would probably only make things worse. Instead, she gently places his hand across his chest before pressing her lips against the back of his knuckles. 

A flash of pink lights up the alley as her power exudes from his wounds. After a few deep breaths Vexel can’t hold back any more. Overcome with disgust and anxiety, he harshly pushes her away with the back of his hand. His force, combined with the hot sting across her skin and the sharp stabbing in her lungs, causes her to crumple at his feet. 

He keeps his stare just above where she fell, taken back by how his wounds had vanished. It was painless, just as she said it would, but how? A look of utter confusion paints his face.

After a tense moment, Althea brings herself to her knees, panting as the pain in her body fades. In the brief moment of contact with him, she sensed a power unlike any she's encountered before. Her thoughts race, ~Who the Hell is this guy~. Looking up, she notices his demeanor change. 

"Don't think too much about it. I get the feeling you've seen crazier shit than that." her words breathless but playful. She goes to stand, staggering from the unexpected head rush of healing someone with such rooted power. 

"I had." He grunts, eyes wandering the rooftops before staring back to Althea. An ease washes over him seeing how disorientated she’s become. He puffs out his chest, "I'm not interested in - contacts - but since I'm back in shape, I should be able to show you what failed with those people of yours, healer."

Taking another step back, she braces against her knees to ground herself. Static floods her ears, signaling Alastor is close by, "Well might want to make it quick before -"

A voice echoes off the walls, "And who do we have here, my dear?" The Radio Demon materializes right next to Althea. He wraps a protective arm around her waist as he stares face to face with Vexel, eyes flashing to black dials.

She steps in front of Alastor, "This is Vexel. He just had a bad run in with the locals." she says in a tone warning him to stand down. 

"Vexel? What a name! I'm Alastor, quite the pleasure." Alastor sneers through a toothy grin. He extends a hand only to pull it back immediately, continuing to glare at the thin man.

"You have a guard dog too? How smart." Vexel bites, maintaining his cold stare. He cockily raises his chin with an accompanying authoritative tone, "Mind to be my test subject for a moment, Alastor?" 

Alastor’s grin wavers at the odd request, "Bold to ask such things of someone you just met. However -" he hands his microphone cane to Althea before rolling up his sleeves, " - I'm all for a good show." he taunts arrogantly.

Althea looks to Vexel, eyes silently begging him to tread lightly with the demon he knows nothing about. A pit forms in her stomach, unsure of what 'test' he is about to perform. His irises begin to shine bright as he focuses on Alastor's crimson stare. Neither man dares to show their true emotions, hiding behind their own masks. One with a smile and one with a cold, emotionless stare.

The Radio Demon feels Vexel gradually seeping into his thoughts. The tips of his fingers go numb while threads of teal magic come out of thin air to embrace him, settling into every pore. Both glow with power. A silent war raging between their minds.

"Uhm Vex - " Althea squeaks out but is quickly cut off by Alastor. "I'm fine." he hisses, trying to fight against this unknown power. As soon as Vexel finds a crack, he exploits the weakness to gain control. "Too much pride." He mutters through a devilish smirk. 

His control spreads, forcing Alastors legs and arms to go numb, teal cuffs now entrapping his wrists and ankles. Vexel's hair spreads and flows with power, his own body feeding on magic from their environment. His source of magic is a common one for Hell, death itself.

In awe of the scene, Althea stands speechless as she watches Alastor lose himself under Vexel's control. Her attention is broken only by a sudden whizzing above the alley. Following the sound, she notices a Voxtech drone, closely watching the events unfold. ~Fuck, Vox doesn't need to see this~ 

"Hey guys, this is super cool and all but it needs to stop. NOW!" she throws a needle at Vexel, hovering it just between his eyes to get his attention. "We have a less than welcome audience." she announces irritably, eyes pointed to the drone.

He releases Alastor at once, hearing the urgency in her voice. He extends his hand, focused on the roof tops. Althea watches a tiny bird-like skeleton fall from above, landing not so gracefully on his arm. 

"I'll be in touch, Althea." Vexel opens a portal beneath him. His body disappears into it and swiftly closes behind him. He groans, plopping himself in his armchair. The small skeleton chicken, Heniffer as he so affectionately named her, scuttles away to fetch him a snack. Still in the alley, Alastor shakes his head trying to shake off Vexel's power. He looks up to see the drone, promptly grabbing Althea and shadowing back to the hotel. "The fuck happened to you!?" she gasps once they make it back to their room, still in disbelief of how easily Alastor fell under power. He looks to the floor, distraught and confused, "I - I don't know. But I am definitely going to find out." he growls. The feeling of defeat sparking a rage deep in his mind.

Back at V Tower, a deep chuckle rumbles in Vox's chest. Sitting in front of his many monitors, he all too much enjoyed watching the new face overtake Alastor with ease before summoning a portal. 

'Ah...looks like the Radio Demon and his little bitch have finally met their match. I believe I need to meet this dark haired mystery man. He could be...quite an asset." he ponders out loud, devising a plan to obtain another ‘V’ to use for his advantage.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel oc #hazbin hotel alastor #collaboration #artists on tumblr #writers on tumblr #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fanfiction #hotel hazbin #hazbin art #hazbin alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #alastor #hazbin hotel 2024 #digital art #writing #female writers #female artists #collab story #radio demon #art collab #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #omniscient reader's viewpoint #hazbin #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox #vox the tv demon

[sealacrossthesea]

more picrews!

i was tagged by @gwynbleidd to make my characters in this picrew. thank you! :D

once again, behold the ants:

Adela | Eveline

Adam | Joseph

Newt | Morgan

as usual, tagging anyone who wants to do this :D

#rho.odt #every ant is a titan #tag game #oc: adela #oc: eveline #oc: adam #oc: joseph #oc: newt #oc: morgan #there's a bigger cast obviously #but these are the ones that are more or less fleshed out #it was a fun picrew and it even had adam's hair #one day i'll write the actual story instead of making the guys in picrews #but not today

[petite-phthora]

Can I kiss you?

[DP x DC fic]

[Love at first... murder? - part 1]

Next >>

Ao3

---

“—so sorry! I swear I didn’t mean to kill him! It was an accident! He just jumped me out of nowhere and I have had bad experiences with clowns in the past so when I saw it was a clown trying to kidnap me I kinda just panicked and punched him! I swear, dude, I didn’t mean to hit him so hard—“

Jason, much too calmly, likely in some form of shock, rises from the crouched-down position he had been in to check the clown corpse’s pulse.

He had seen the poor, still rambling, twink getting grabbed from a distance and was about to step in as Red Hood, not even having been aware it was the Joker who —shouldn’t he have been in Arkham? There has been no announcement of him breaking out yet— had grabbed the guy until he had run close enough to the scene.

Which was after the guy had already been startled so badly by the Joker trying to kidnap him that he sucker punched the Joker into the wall of the alley so hard the clown died.

Said twink then realized what he had done and that he had a witness, that witness being Red Hood himself, and had started his frenzied speech on how it was an accident and to please don’t take him to jail he’s only just started his scholarship at Gotham U. and he can’t have murder on his track record yet.

Breathless, Jason looks at the nervous twink in front of him, who's still trying to plead his case, and who just obliterated the Joker with a punch.

Before his brain can catch up to his mouth, he’s already cutting the distressed monologuing off.

“Can I kiss you?” He blurts out.

Danny, taken off guard, breaks out of his panicked—oh, Ancients, I just killed someone— stupor and lets out a startled laugh.

“Take me out to dinner first” came the automatic joking reply, Danny still largely in shock of what he did.

Jason, either not picking up on the joking tone or ignoring it, nods seriously, already trying to come up with the best place for a dinner date with the cute twink to thank him for his service to the city.

Danny, who has calmed down slightly by now, glances between the red-helmed vigilante and the clown corpse. His gaze lands on Red Hood and he hesitantly speaks up again.

“So, uh, what happens now? Do I need to go to the station to make a statement orrrr?” He pauses awkwardly.

Jason, who’s still trying to figure out whether the Bat Burger would be a good place for a first date or not, doesn’t reply.

“I’ve got school in the morning and I only have like,” he pauses to check his phone for the time, “3 more hours before I have to be up for my first lesson. Soooo, I’m just gonna go. That cool?”

Again, he waits for a reply. But it doesn’t come.

“Right. Cool cool. Uh, see you later? Mr. Red Hood dude sir?” Danny gives a clumsy and awkward salute before turning tail and speed-walking away.

It’s not until 30 minutes later, once Jason has finally decided on the perfect place to take the guy to dinner to, that he realizes the twink is gone.

Fuck, he forgot to ask for the guy’s name.

…

And number.

#dp x dc #I imagine the next day danny is in his apartment and gets interrupted by a knock #on the window #and he just opens the window to find red hood outside #jason: so u ready for that dinner? #danny: ???!!?! #jason: ive got the entire night planned out for us first we’ll have dinner and then we’ll go to the gotham observatory- #danny: say no more #danny doesnt even question how red hood found out who he was and where he lives and even that he likes space #meanwhile jason spent the entire day trying to find out everything he could about the mysterious twink #he probably got tim or babs to use the cams + facial regcognition and stuff to find out everything he could abt danny #tim/babs: alright so his name’s daniel fenton and he’s been living in gotham for abt a week now cuz he started at GU and- #jason: what’s his favorite color? what are his hobbies? what does his dream date look like? give me something to work with here #dp x dc fic #well less of a fic and more of a one-shot or short prompt #just something I randomly came up with and fleshed out a little in my head during work cuz i was bored #love the idea of jason seeing twink!danny obliterating the joker with a punch and just. falling in love. immediately #dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc prompt #dp x dc crossover #dead on main #dead on main ship #petiteposts

[obsidianstrawberrymilk]

Tbh a huge amount of the issues MHA has could have been fixed had Bakugo just been expelled from UA in the first season or not gotten in at all

#izuku's other friends like ochako tenya etc could have gotten more screentime and development #the todoroki arc wouldve had more space to flesh out all the siblings and give shouto a more obvious personality #the precedent of excusing abuse wouldnt be there so i think ppl would be less sympathetic to endeavour which is GROSS #aizawa and the rest of the ua staff look better as teachers as theyre not just letting a pr nightmare and bully run around unchecked #the 'bakusquad' can be given more space to be their own characters and bond wo being rotted by their attachment to bakugo #shinsou could have actual development instead of being one dimensional and annoying and grow into his potential as izuku's rival/foil #less bakugo screentime also means more time for the plot to develop #and im hoping the characters could develop their abilitie sin unique and more consistent ways wo the constant need to make bakugo the best- #screwing everything up #including izuku keeping his analysis abilities etc #thats just off the top of my head #izuku midoriya #bakugo katsuki #anti bakugo katsuki #anti bakugo #mha #my hero academia #mha critical #my hero academia critical