#anyway here come the tags feel free to ignore simply as there will be a lot and i love attention so

[ailithnight]

So! Giving my reblogs to this amazing art by @providencehq their own post so I can keep adding on to this fic at my own leisure.

Please don't ask to be tagged. I'm relegated to mobile and simply cannot keep up with a taglist. All additions will be going in the reblogs on this post, though. So feel free to come back here periodically to see if I've added more.

I'm currently up to 3 chunks with 1 more in planning.

So, without further ado:

Caught and Content

Daniel James Fenton had died at 14.

And every day since then he has counted as a blessing. Especially the good ones, but even the bad ones. The terrible ones. The days so horrid that Danny wouldn’t wish them on the worst beings in the universe. Danny treasured them still. Because every breath, every too slow heart beat, even the ones that pulsed with terror and exhaustion and agony, every one was a miracle. A moment of life that Daniel James Fenton wasn’t meant to have any more.

Borrowed time.

That’s what it was.

Danny had been living on borrowed time since he was 14. And he had long since made peace with the fact that his borrowed time would some day run out.

He’s 20 now. 6 whole years he wasn’t meant to live but did anyway.

A few more months and Danny would be 21, old enough to buy his first alcoholic drink. But even if he lived that long now, he wouldn’t get the chance. The GIW would ensure that. Tuck had celebrated his 21st a couple months ago, and Sam a few months before him. Danny would never get to celebrate his with them.

But that was okay. As said, Danny had long since made peace with the uncertain nature of his borrowed time. He didn’t need to go out to a bar with his friends and celebrate that he had survived 21 whole years. It would have been a lie anyway.

Daniel James Fenton had died when he was 14.

He was in the Watchtower now. Power suppression cuffs and collar making his already battered body feel even more weak and achy. Batman was staring at him. Superman and Wonder Woman seemed to be telling him things. Or asking. Interrogating. Danny paid them no mind. No answer he’d given them before seemed to satisfy. And he already knew what would come next.

These were government sanctioned heros. They were bound to the law. And the law said Danny must be turned over to the GIW. And since Danny had already escaped them and his parents once, he doubted they’d be keen to lock him up again. Research be damned, Phantom was too dangerous to be left alive. Or whatever facsimile of alive Danny existed in right now. Daniel James Fenton had died when he was 14.

So Danny ignored the government sanctioned superheros. He didn’t let his mind wander to tomorrows he’d never have. He had made peace with his death. So now he took every moment left of his breathing beating blessing to turn his gaze out the large Watchtower window.

Nothing else mattered as Danny beheld, breathed in, drowned in the last he’d ever see of the infinite beauty of the cosmos. He let himself relax, smile, and relish in the miracle of being here, of being allowed to see it one last time. And up so close, too.

And when the heros grew tired of Danny’s distraction. When they led him to a new room without any windows to peer out of. Danny stayed relaxed. Stayed smiling. He closed his eyes and waited for his borrowed time to run out. Even as Batman stared and Superman and Wonder Woman interrogated and the power suppression devices drained him of excess energy and he’s pretty sure the GIW were on their way to arrange his execution; he was contented.

Danny was not afraid. He was happy. At peace. Why would he be scared? After all, Daniel James Fenton had died at 14. Every moment since has been a blessing he has been grateful to have.

Because

Daniel James Fenton had died at 14.

#DP x DC #my writing #Caught and Content

[itsjustbyler]

Ok. I decided to write this to make my position on this very clear to all the people who follow me and also to those who, if they want, block me straight away.

I've been in several fandons where actors, actresses, directors or writers were incredibly disgusting people, so I had to learn to separate the work from the artist. I have several focus problems, I suffer from depression related to childhood trauma and I'm not in a very good phase. So I'm not going to apologize for continuing to support Byler and for continuing to watch and talk about Stranger Things, because Byler was one of the only things that managed to distract me from the problems going on in my private life.

I understand those who prefer to stay away from the fandom and I give all my support to those people. What I don't agree with is the idea that if you continue to interact with the fandom, you are a despicable, heartless human being. People come to tag byler for many different reasons that aren't just limited to the actor. When people say to leave Noah Schnapp out of the byler tag, it's because a lot of people are running away from their own reality and that doesn't mean they're supporting or ignoring Noah and everything that's happening, but rather doing it in other ways and using the tag byler for distraction.

I'm not a fan of Noah Schnapp, I don't engage with his posts. For me, I don't care what the actors do or don't do, so being called genocidal simply for talking about Byler bothers me a lot. I can separate the work from the artist. There are people who don't and I respect that and I understand a lot because the situation is very complicated. What I don't agree with is the antisemitism and homophobia accompanying all the hate he is suffering and this is not because I'm a fan of Noah, but because one thing does not justify the other. When I went onto his social media to understand what he had done, I saw people commenting on Hitler's photo on his Twitter posts, being extremely homophobic and I could understand why he blocked the terms "Palestine" and "Israel" from social media.

Regarding the conflict, I researched everything that has been happening for years, I saw the different points of view from different people to understand why there are people defending Israel and people defending Palestine because I wanted to learn about it. I have my own opinion and disagree with many of Noah's attitudes regarding this and I can understand the hate. I hope this get better soon and that all of this to end soon.

I also looked for ways to help as I can here in Brazil and if you are also brazilian and want to know how, click on this link and you will be able to help with donations:

Anyway, I will continue on the tag and interacting with the fandom. Feel free to block me whenever you want. This will be my only post about this.

#byler #stranger things

[rockerscentral]

ROCKERSCENTRAL MASTERPOST🎸

(A rockers-related Rhythm Heaven ask blog!)

Info can be found under the line break.

___________________

The Basics: (or the General Info)

This blog serves to be a more creative way for me to share all of the ideas that I had planned out for the Rockers, along with some other guys, mainly following a story-esque format that follows their "backstory" and how they had originally met up to become the well known rock duo they are now!

Following up on the text above, just to clarify and put it straight, the blog will not start out with the both of them right away, and will likely follow the perspective of one or the other.

While there will be art for a bunch of the asks, especially for standard posts that are needed to progress the story, I cannot guarantee that there will be something drawn for each ask, though I do wish to try and do so. That applies to whether it's a colored sketch, actual drawing, a simple doodle, etc.

Some characters may have different names than some that may be commonly used as a fan-name from the fandom, the main case of this going to Student (name being Jamie.)

This whole blog's going to be a headcanon fest, considering how a majority of this is me making shit up for the most part, so please keep that in mind if you see different portrayals for one thing or another.

Additional Notes:

If you are running another character-based blog, it is completely alright to interact with this account! Just keep in mind that this is technically taking place in the past, which means that any asks that are sent that mention anything that could be in regards to any present matters /foreshadows anything about the Rockers will likely be ignored.

While it may not be prevalent for the long run start of this blog, I do ship the Rockers together, and would probably come up at some point very later on when the time comes, so be weary of that if you don't like the ship and such.

This blog is only being run by me, myself and I ( @submaskudari ), so things might be a bit slow depending on the situation.

I will also answer asks that are out of character for those who wish to know anything from me specifically ^_^

Unless there is only one character that's available for asks, please specify who you are sending an ask towards, otherwise it may be pushed back out of confusion.

___________________

Blog Rules:

Don't be a weirdo in the asks LOL

NO METAGAMING.. I have no idea how that'd play out anyways, but this still applies :sob:

Try not to spam the ask box, or be repetitive with asks.. I'm just one guy, and sometimes it might take a moment to spot it.

Transphobia, Homophobia, Racism, Proship, and all of the other bad shit is not welcome here, so please see yourself out if you fall under said criteria.

Please be kind!! I am just a little guy, again.

___________________

Tags:

# (insert character name) + ask: Asks that are directed to said character #main art reblog: main blog posts that either feature Rockers/ Blog-related content. #refs: Simply the refs I work off of for the characters I draw here. # (insert tumblr user here): Asks sent by said user/blog. #asks: Ask posts in general. #ooc ask: Asks that are related to the blog, but are directed to the blog owner (me) rather than an ic ask for the characters. #masterpost: what do you think LOL #sillyart: probably gonna be labled under shitposts or verrry bad doodles, just goofing around! #rockerscentral: tag for chrono-order posts, asks or non asks

#djschoolcentral: april fools posts (chrono order, too)

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This will be updated time from time as the blog progresses, rather it'd be for rule additions or something else. If anything, I'm probably going to add a blog Q&A for any additional questions that anyone may have, so feel free to ask!

#masterpost #rhythm heaven #rhythm tengoku #rockers #rhythm heaven rockers

[welcometololaland]

wip wednesday

y'all - i feel like i've been so fucking annoying lately but i'm here to request one thing of you - give me some juicy snippets to read because i'm finally on top of my shit. and i've always wanted to start wip wednesday (for all i know someone has already started it but don't rain on my parade! let me live in denial) and now i maybe can. This is from ALTA which is (omg) so close to being posted. 10 days. fuck. i'm not ready (i am).

“She’s really gone, isn’t she?” TK asks, his voice breaking as his head remains burrowed into Carlos’ shoulder. He’s stopped shaking now, which Carlos takes to be a good sign, but he’s cried so persistently that the whole front of Carlos’ jacket is wet. 

He pauses, leans back and cups TK’s face in his hands, using his thumbs to brush away a few errant tears. He briefly considers making a passionate speech about TK’s mother being dead but not gone – living on in his heart – but then he decides for pragmatism. He thinks TK will appreciate that more, anyway.

“Yes,” he says simply. “But that doesn’t mean it’s easy to accept.”

TK sniffs, his glazed eyes staring helplessly into Carlos’ own. “What do I do now, Carlos?”

Carlos sighs, brushing away another of TK's tears. “I’m not really sure, TK,” he admits. “But right now, I can take you home. It might be nice to cry somewhere that isn’t your high school computer lab.”

A tiny, hesitant smile appears at the corners of TK’s mouth. “I think my dad will be relieved,” he says. “He keeps asking why I haven’t cried yet, like it's some kind of crime.”

“Well, he’s definitely going to be pleased to see you,” Carlos points out, as TK nods tearfully. 

“Could you— Do you mind coming with me?” TK asks as Carlos steps back and drops his hands. “I don’t really want to be alone and my dad is driving me nuts. My other friends…they wouldn’t understand.”

“I hope they do understand, TK,” Carlos replies solemnly, collecting his books and following TK out of the darkened classroom. “I think everyone will do their best to support you.”

TK makes a non-committal sound as they walk down the empty hall – devoid of students – amplifying the sound of their sneakers on the linoleum. “Not like you,” he says, after a pause. “I know we’ve only been friends for a little bit, but you’re different.”

“Oh yeah?” Carlos asks, pushing open the front doors and following TK down the steps. “In what way?”

TK pauses, looking back up at Carlos as he descends the stairs, a pensive look on his face. “You’re good, Carlos,” he replies simply. “You’re good for me.”

Open tag for anyone to share but also some targeted attacks under the cut (with insane requests, feel free to ignore me)!!!

@theghostofashton (need some exes to lovers PLEASE), @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut (boxing AU boxing AU!), @goodways (got a tasty treat shannon?) @reyesstrand (food fic???) @strandnreyes (please don't hurt me but you can if you want) @rmd-writes (just because i love you) @heartstringsduet (FIRST AID?!) @carlos-in-glasses (what's next up CIG?) @birdclowns (your wip snippet game has me blurry eyed, i must know more) @fitzherbertssmolder (any comic progress?) @louis-ii-reyes-strand (been loving your snippets) @lilythesilly (fighter pilot AU?!) @kiloskywalker (tarlos fighter pilot AU????) @sanjuwrites (soulmates????) @three-drink-amy (teacher AU teacher AU teacher AU!!) @chicgeekgirl89 (any yachts about?) @lemonlyman-dotcom (some music fic for my ears???) @wandering-night19 (4 x 18 coda???) @thisbuildinghasfeelings (cross stitching update??!!!) @freneticfloetry (something from the soulmates timer fic???) @alrightbuckaroo (summer parisian au my beloved!!!!) @cha-melodius (you've got mail AU????) @redshirt2 (anything you would like to contribute, i'd just love you to keep feeding me!) @iboatedhere (how are those prompts???) @orchidscript (lovingly bullying you to keep writing) @marjansmarwani (i know the words are hard but also i am lovingly bullying you as well <3) @morganaspendragonss (has angst queen got anything this week?) @lightningboltreader (THAT ANGSTY ONE BED THING I AM SCARED BUT I WANT)

#wip wednesday #FINALLY #THE FUTURE IS HERE #911 lone star #tarlos #tk strand #carlos reyes #ALTA

[misc-obeyme]

hiii 👋 may i request #28 (wish) for lucifer? i'm not sure if anon can send a request, so if not, please feel free to ignore mine~ thank you so much and warmest congratulations on your milestone! 💙

Hi there! You're good, it's totally fine to send a request on anon!

I must admit that this one got a liiiittle suggestive at the end, but only a little! Anyway, I think it turned out okay, so I hope you like it!

Thank you for participating!

GN!MC x Lucifer with prompt Wish

Warnings: slightly suggestive at the end, but it's so little that I don't really think it needs a warning lol putting it here just in case

It was a nice cool evening in the Devildom and you were walking through the streets with Lucifer. The two of you had managed to leave the House of Lamentation without any of his brothers noticing and tagging along. You didn't necessarily mind when that happened, but it was nice to be alone with Lucifer.

He had simply come to your room and asked you to go shopping for a new fountain pen with him. You were certain that this was just an excuse, but you didn't question it.

Now you were walking along the streets, stopping here and there in random shops. Lucifer didn't seem especially interested in any pens you came across.

Eventually you came to a little plaza with a beautiful fountain at its center. The plaza was devoid of people, only filled with the light splash of the water. The fountain had a large basin and three smaller basins, all decorated in engravings of dark roses. The bottom of the main basin was a beautiful mosaic featuring more dark roses. You couldn't help but notice that it was completely clean - nothing littered the bottom of the fountain basin.

You turned to Lucifer who was standing by your side. "Don't demons make wishes in fountains?"

Lucifer looked at you quizzically. "Wishes? Why would they?"

You turned back to the fountain. "I guess it's just a human thing. We throw coins into fountains to make a wish, so human world fountains have a lot of different coins on the bottom of them. I didn't see any here, but that makes sense now."

Lucifer grimaced momentarily, no doubt thinking of the trouble Mammon would get into if he knew about this human tradition. Then he said, "Would you like to make a wish in this fountain, MC?"

You laughed. "It's a little silly," you said.

Lucifer placed a shiny Grimm coin in your hand. "I would like to see this human tradition."

You studied his face. He didn't seem to be making fun of you. In fact, his expression was quiet serious. So you closed your eyes, made a wish, and tossed the coin in. When you heard the soft ploosh of the water, you opened your eyes again.

You watched as Lucifer followed your example, throwing his own coin into the fountain. He turned to you, a gentle expression on his face as a soft breeze ruffled his black hair. "And so? What did you wish for?"

You smiled. "I can't tell you. It won't come true."

Lucifer laughed softly, putting his hands on your waist and pulling you to him. "Humans have such silly notions."

You let your hands rest on his arms and shrugged. "We wish on shooting stars and birthday candles, too."

"Ridiculous," Lucifer said, but his tone was light. He leaned in to kiss you, one of his hands reaching up to cradle the back of your head.

You couldn't resist opening your mouth for him as your hands gripped his arms hard, your bodies flush against each other.

Just when you thought things were getting a little too heavy for you to be in public, Lucifer pulled away to look at you. He kept his arms around you and said, "I see. Your coin in the fountain method is quite effective. My wish has just come true."

You almost laughed at how serious he was. You grinned at him. "I guess it isn't as silly as you thought."

"And your wish, MC?" he asked.

You shook your head. "I told you, I can't tell. But let's just say it won't come true here."

Lucifer smirked. "Then I must insist you come back to my room so I may fulfill your wish by morning."

the original prompt list

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer x mc #lucifer x reader #lucifer x mc #misc 500 followers event #misc writes

[eldritch-spouse]

I don't think I've seen something like this for Morell but if there is then feel free to ignore, but I have a fleeting thought that sometimes drifts back about Morell with a cannibalistic piglet. Like maybe before they were taken to the Clergy they were a killer/cannibal so when Morell feeds them a human they eat with delight or simply refuse to eat anything else but human.

OH! This is far fetched, but what if the human was like the one where they could regenerate organs/limbs?I can see piglet having him cut off a piece, cook it for the two of them (the mushroom hard and piglet probably getting off on it)and both of them happily consuming, having some fun after

[While I'll gladly indulge the idea of a cannibal Piglet, I've already written for pervy reader that can regenerate limbs here. Fem reader. Went just a tiny bit ham with this one. :'>]

TW: Cannibalism, romanticized cannibalism, in-depth descriptions of gore, I need Jesus what else is news?

You never thought you'd be the one getting kidnapped.

So used were you to being the lion amongst limping gazelles, that you made a critical mistake- Getting cocky. Turning your back to bigger fiends, believing yourself to be an apex.

The reality of your fragile nature comes crashing down when you find yourself dumped inside a den of real lions for the first time. The Clergy's Eye. Sickfuck central, in other words. Your deeds, compared to those of the monsters working here, are but crumbs. You're an angel in comparison, practically just as insignificantly innocuous as the average Joes that got lumped in with you upon arrival. They do not discriminate here, innocent and guilty are equal.

It took very little for someone as observant as you to understand what role exactly humans played in this cesspit. And that is the role of prey. Commodities. Products with price tags. And in your case, meat.

Hah.

The levels of irony are so far beyond comical that you could die laughing if you really thought deeply about it. The cannibal, coincidentally sorted to the human-eating chef... It can't have been mere chance, can it? They must have known exactly what you were before you got captured. But then... That can't be the case. Because Morell, as you've come to know the large shroom, didn't believe you when you told him you were fine with eating humans. You're more than fine with it, actually, your track record shows it crystal clear.

And yet, all he does is coo at you. Saying that his pretty piglet can't hurt a fly, that you're much too scrawny to put a dent in anyone, that you'd sooner hurt yourself than eat a man. The fact that you turn your nose up at any meat that doesn't taste like human doesn't get him to believe you. Fucking Hell, the fact that you're able to identify the flavor of human in the first place should be enough of a tell to let him know you were up to shady shit previously! What, does he think other people caught your victims for you? That you don't know what you're eating?!

All of this is really quite puzzling. You have no idea why Morell even took a liking to you anyway. For all intents and purposes, you are food, you should be hanging in the freezer, skinless like the rest of them- Or dangling upside down in his kitchen while he bleeds you out. He caught you, the fuck is he doing playing with his meal for so long now? Maybe he just likes the fact that you haven't had a little panic attack once ever since getting here. That you're mildly cooperative, never even tried to run. As if running were a good idea, either Morell cuts your legs off like he did to some chaps the other day, or another sicko catches you and does possibly worse.

No, it was most likely the hunger. This place smells good, for lack of better wording. Your favorite meals are always cooking, because the demand for them here is ridiculous. It always smells so so good- You think he caught you salivating once or twice. That might not have helped.

You're sure Morell could tell you were different from day one, he's probably just suspicious. Hell, you would be too, in his shoes. That's why you're tied to a restaurant table's chair, outside the kitchen. You challenged him when the chef "called your bluff", and now he's going to put you to the test, initially treating this as if it were a punishment- When really, it's become more of a mildly inconvenient dinner date. It could even be romantic, if the chef didn't insist on keeping you shackled to the warehouse all day, cold and sore and bored to death.

God, you're so hungry. He's taking his sweet time, isn't he? Maybe this is all a joke. He's not cooking anything at all, you're being played.

With a familiar, quiet creak, the kitchen doors part. And while you expected to see the large blue monster himself walk out, you're instead faced with none other than the head... Thing, that works inside his kitchen. These odd little dark creatures that do his bidding. Minion beings. This is the one in charge, the pink freckled one... What was his name again? Tomato? Turnip? Yeah. How come he always looks so oddly oblivious to the obscenities around him? Regardless, he carries a set of napkins and a vintage-looking bottle.

Once he comes over to organize the cloths, you make small talk, because there's nothing more entertaining to occupy yourself with. " Hey little man, what's on the menu? "

Turnip blinks, scrunches his face in deep thought, then snaps his fingers. " Blonde! " He simply says, looking much too proud.

" Uhuh. " You let him pour what you assume must be wine on both your glass and the chef's.

You know better than to try to ask the pink-eyed thing for help. It's unquestionably loyal to Morell, as are the others. And even if you think you could probably weasel out of these ropes with enough effort, or break the chair, the gates to the elevators have been closed. It's not worth acting out at all here, so you merely watch the creature in a chef hat trot back to the kitchen, passing the time by staring at the walls.

Such interesting walls they are. Truly, the soft tones of purple upon brick are superb. What type of brick is that? Who painted this place? The lighting is always so moody. Is that a bug on the wall? A spider? Huh. There it goes...

This time, you don't get the courtesy of a gentle warning as the kitchen doors slam open, giving you a mighty heart scare. There he is. The shroom. With perhaps the most jolly look ever on his face. He looks sweaty, like he's been standing in front of an oven for a while, or a fireplace. Is that a blush on his darkened face? In his hand lies a silver platter much too big,' something you're sure a human would have trouble carrying. Speaking of human, the size of that thing leaves little to the imagination. There's a person in that, most of one, at least.

Morell glances at you with a raw level of determination that scalds. Something fierce, to be reckoned with. He's marching to the table steadily, footsteps heavy. The monster only speaks to you when the platter is lowered to the center of the table, obscuring a great deal of it.

" Should'a had 'em put ya in a dress, piglet. " The cook comments. " Make this whole ordeal 'ere a lil' more romantic. " You're pretty sure those creatures aren't smart enough to even understand how a dress is operated. " Ya can't blame me for gettin' excited though, right? "

You can, actually. His excitement is what landed you here in the first place, so you figure that's pretty blame-worthy. Your lack of response doesn't faze the monster much, who quickly removes the shining silver cover off the platter. Dear God, it's mouth-watering.

What lies on the platter is very clearly a woman. Or, well, most of one- Her abdomen and upper thighs at least, what's left of her arms tied behind her back. She's roasted to absolute perfection, you wouldn't have it any other way. An assortment of veggies and fruits decorate the larger than life dish, some covering her privates, you're sure he's stuffed something in there. It wouldn't be Morell if he hadn't gone the whole nine yards, if he hasn't made sure all those cavities were made useful some way or another. Speaking of stuffing, her open belly is very clearly bloated. In all your years as an amateur devourer of men, you have never managed to achieve this level of elegance. Why, inside her grotesquely extended abdominal area, is nothing other than ludicrous amount of... Pasta? Yes, it looks like it. Pasta and vegetables, the taste must be delectable. Given how there's always so many humans being brought in, and how Morell does this day in and day out, it's unlikely he established a bond with this poor lady before she was sentenced to fire. This, in your eyes, dampens the experience a little. Though you're not about to complain, not when you're starving, and this equally insane man holds the cure for your perpetual hunger.

" Ain't seen somethin' quite like this 'fore, have ya, piggie? " Morell brags, glowing blue eyes fixed on yours.

You shake your head, allowing him to be cocky, because he deserves it frankly. The dish looks and smells delightful. He's a master of his craft and you will recognize that truth. The chef plucks a grape from the side of the platter, edging closer to you with it in hand. " Open. "

This close, you can most definitely tell he's not just sweating from the heat of roasting a person, or rushing through his work. See, through the chef's blood-soaked smock protrudes the real source of his perspiration, a raging libidinous thrill, which is probably making his pants feel real tight. You expected as much, he takes more enjoyment out of this than you ever will, perhaps now you can start to understand why he's so patronizing about your own fondness for literal manmeat.

Nonetheless, perhaps because you're bored, maybe because you want to push his buttons, you open your mouth and stick your tongue out, making sure to keep eye contact when Morell dips the small fruit on your tongue. You catch it, teasingly tracing the tips of thick digits before leaning back and enjoying the treat. The monster very clearly fumes at the display, though tries to keep his cool. What's left of it.

" How's it look so far, babycakes? Ya hungry? "

God, are you...

" It looks amazing. " You begin, catching the way Morell's grin turns near-manic, hands twitching by his sides as if he wants to grab at you. " You have to let me see you make the next one. I'm starving, sir. " A vein probably popped in the man's body upon hearing that.

The shroom makes a sound akin to a low rumble, pulling a steak knife out from his pocket. Right, the one thing missing from the table set ever since you were sat down. He motions to it, sparing you a stern look. " Don' go playin' games now, I'd have ta punish ya real bad if our date got interrupted by some silly lil' stunt. "

What even would the point? You've seen the braver ones try to stab him before. As squishy as some parts of him may look, penetrating that thick hide is easier said than done. He hasn't bled once from their attacks, ever since your stay here at least. The knife he holds, while decently sharp, would probably not be worth much damage, unless you could somehow reach those glowing eyes of his. Maybe the underside of his cap, it looks softer. If Morell catches you scrutinizing, which is ambiguous honestly, he makes no comment on it, setting the knife down and moving behind you to untie the ropes binding you to the chair.

He tenses then. Deliberately. Daring you to try something brainless, like making a dash for the blocked elevators. Even if you did, the chef would probably still get off on the wild goose chase. Knowing this, you remain still, getting rewarded by a pleased rumble and some gentle head patting. " Good girl... " He slurs, pushing your chair in while he moves to be in front of the platter.

Your plate is picked up, you merely observe while the shroom makes a fine selection of each portion, cutting professionally at the meat. Fuck, he nailed the inside and everything. You don't recognize the sauce he put on her, but it smells so good... The plate presented to you, quite tall for the record, makes the cook in you nearly tear up from seething jealousy- Wishing, no matter how depraved it may sound, that you could make a dish look half as appetizing as this monster effortlessly does. Lucky bastard!

Morell takes his wine glass in hand and swirls it, looking eagerly at your person. " Eat up, piglet. I wanna hear what'cha think. "

You roll your shoulders, picking up the cutlery. Part of you wonders if he put something in the food, since he's not eating himself. But then, you know Morell is hardly that type of monster, if he wanted something from you, he'd be crystal clear about it. Drugs are not in his modus operandi, as far as you can tell.

The first bite is heavenly.

You moan. And you mean it. It's indescribable, the monster that captured you made ambrosia. He made art. He made beauty- Is this what they call a foodgasm? You take another bite, and another, and one more, cutting delightedly at the marvelous food, eating as if you'd been starving.

Unbeknownst to your oblivious self, the mushroom is watching all of this avidly, relishing the reactions on your face and feeling a wave of pleasant heat spread over his entire frame. He feels light-headed almost, part of him not wanting to believe that you were being serious, that this wasn't just a needlessly elaborate bluff. Fuck, he loves you. You're perfect, look at yourself right now, drooling over his talent. Beautiful. You're a gift. He knew you were special.

" Good, ain't it? Best ya had, I bet. " He rumbles, wine glass set down.

You catch yourself, swallowing around a mouthful and fixing your curved posture, ashamed of your lack of self-control. Your mouth is sealed, should you really encourage his arrogance further?

" Naw naw, open them lips. "

No.

Morell tsks, reaching over in a single stride to take your chin in his grasp. Although you jump in your chair, you know better than to panic. He's like a beast, should you let him smell fear, he'll lunge. " Come on, I wanna hear it. " Shrunk pupils dare you to lie.

" It's... It's perfect. " A small wave of defeat blankets you. It's not that you feel bad about enjoying the taste of your fellow man, it's that you don't want to admit he's better than you at this anymore. That getting to experience this free of any authority's pursuit, free of guilt, free of shame, makes you want to stay with him.

" There we go, not so hard, was it? " He grins, softly stroking a thumb over your lips. " It makes me real happy ta hear that from ya, sweetiepie. "

Oh, you bet it does. Morell is looking at you like you're a steak, as usual, and unfortunately, you can never quite tell if that means he's horny or hungry.

" Aight, enjoy yer meal. I reckon ya deserve it for bein' honest with me after all. "

The chef puts some distance between you, reaching for his own knife and cutting pieces of the woman's roasted thigh for himself. You would like to "enjoy your meal", as he put it, but it's a little hard to eat normally when you're being stared down by the mushroom. You know he's getting off on watching you simply cut into the meat, his eyes lidding everytime there's contact between it and your lips, memorizing the movement of your throat as you swallow. Morell looks as if he's moments away from reaching for his own cock. Honestly, he's done grosser before, but you don't feel like eating with someone spanking it next to you.

So, to alleviate the tension in this floor, which albeit being huge feels suffocatingly small when it's just you and Morell in it, you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

" Did you do anything to her...? "

It's something you have to ponder. There's no doubt left in you that the cook gets personal with many of his "ingredients", that he plays with his food- There's nothing like the glee in his complexion when he gets to fondle his latest pig. Maybe it's the power, the importance of being the last person someone talks to or sees before death claims them. You... You feel a little bit of that sick pleasure yourself, but you never had a habit of massacrating your kills. It's unclear why you even want to know what Morell does with his human victims. Maybe you really just spoke to distract him from you, maybe you want to hear a disgusting answer.

Because it would thrill you.

The chef makes a sound between a huff and a chuckle, picking at the torso on a platter with the same knife. The very tip of the stainless steel piercing into one of her breasts beneath the nipple. Morell casually takes a slice for himself and finally takes a seat sideways on the chair opposite to you.

" Define anythin'... " The grin widens.

He knows what you mean. You know he does. The monster probably just enjoys making you spell things out to get himself off.

" Uh- Y-You know... " Very impressive.

" Do I? "

Alright, fuck it. You attempt to eat as you speak, to appear casual.

" Did you... Touch her? I know sometimes you get... Uhm, close to them. And you f-.... Finger... " What the fuck is wrong with you? You'll kill a man, but you can't even ask this pervert if he fingers his victims?!

Morell barks out hearty laughter at your struggling, tears in the corners of his eyes. " Lawd-! " He wheezes. " Did I finger her? "

" ... Yeah. "

Another small burst of chuckling, then the monster takes a deep breath, and spares you a surprisingly adoring look. Intoxicated, more like. " Dawww, piglet, are ya worried yer not good enough fer me? I ain't been touchin' anyone since ya got 'ere. "

Amazing. He managed to twist you wanting to know if he molested his victim into a display of insecurity from your part. As if the two of you are a couple having a heart-to-heart about your feelings.

" Uhh... Okay. " It's a little flattering to know that he hasn't been interested in anyone else ever since you were brought in, in an obviously depraved way. It's also dangerous, really dangerous, you're aware of that.

" I'm faithful to ya, pumpkin. Ya don' have ta worry. "

You just nod, cheeks coloring a couple shades darker. Emboldened by those words, or perhaps because his earlier answer wasn't satisfactory, you poke harder. You know riling him up is far from the best idea, but you're not known for your ability to make sane, proper decisions to begin with.

" You could have... " Is uttered in between bites, making the large shroom nearly choke on his own mouthful. He beats at his chest once and gives you a questioning look, flush darkening. " I mean, what does it matter if you do, right? They all die anyway. " Oh God why are you talking?! Where are you even trying to go with this?

Morell chews through his next mouthful slowly, giving you a fixed, knowing look while he drums meaty fingers on the table. " Does that do it for ya, piglet? " You choke. " Ya wanna watch that stuff? "

Damage control mode activated. " N-No, I- "

" 'Cus I can do that. "

Oh fuck. " O-Okay... "

Silence reigns.

You're eating faster now, though this time it's in an effort to get the little dinner date over with as soon as possible. You've embarrassed yourself enough as is. Though, truth be told, you also want to go for seconds, the meal is so appetizing... Even if this is by far the most awkward and tense interaction of your entire life, Morell's food is so utterly fantastic that you'd go through it all again just to taste this masterpiece one more time. A couple more forlorn forkfuls and your plate is squeaky clean. Pity.

Should you get up? Will he punish you for rising without permission or assume you're going to run? Ever starving eyes glaze over the platter's contents wistfully.

" Cravin' more? " Morell looks at you oddly. There's something strained about his posture, and you realize why when one of his arms is no longer poised over the table's cloth. Creep. He's doing exactly what you expected him to earlier...

Your tentative nodding is rewarded by another pleased rumble. " C'mere then. "

With a great deal of hesitancy, eyes trained on his, you do as told, knowing better than to try to draw out the inevitable. There's an audible gulp at the sight that greets you the closer you get.

The chef has freed himself from his pants, a pallid, large blue cock resting atop heavy balls. It's... Well, massive. Because the monster himself is huge compared to most humans, it makes sense he'd pack generously. Although overall humanoid in form, you don't miss the oddly-shaped bumps on the underside of it, or the fact that it sports plenty of the same marks the rest of his skin does. Your stare bounces everywhere in anxiety, unwilling to fixate on the cook's twitching length. Something about his nonchalant attitude is making a fire rise in your loins, unfortunately.

" Shorts off. "

Again, there's some seconds of reluctance from your part as you glance at your tattered clothes. You're wet, you know you are- But even then, it would be a challenge to fit that thing. Will you really let this happen just because your brain's wires crossed funny and your captor is mildly sexy? Just because, sometimes, you feel at home here?

" Piglet. " He warns when you take too long.

The moment said cloth hit the floor, you catch him huffing, gaze pointedly on your slightly flushed cunt. Your underwear privileges were revoked a while ago. You try not to lose your nerves, but some part of you does want to sprint right now. " Good girl... " He purrs, curling a finger.

The contact doesn't last, because you're swiftly turned around and manhandled to fold over the table, tits and face mushed on it. " Keep 'em spread, piggy. " Morell orders, prodding one finger against your opening. You don't get to say a word before it's jammed in, meeting little resistance.

When you're between the large monster and the table, he stays still in lurid observation. Then, in a fraction of a second, grabs your ass, forcing your sweet pussy against his face. The yelp you let out turns into a shriek when a fat tongue gives it a teasing swipe. You feel his blunt teeth on your mons and wonder if the chef is going to bite your genitals off entirely, a very real rush of fear making your body turn cold.

He's done this before, the shroom has no trouble getting people to open up for him, motions mechanic but effective. Soon, there's a quiet shlick muffling both your rapid breaths as his hand only ever withdraws so he can lather it in more drool and shove more fingers inside your gushing hole. By the time there's three trying to push in, you're grabbing the cloth like a vise and trying to bite down gross moans every time he thrusts, the force of each motion bouncing you forward. He doesn't know gentle, does he?

" Ya look so damn cute like this. " He murmurs, you can only groan nonsensically in response.

There's a sudden feeling of emptiness.

In a flash of movement, you're grabbed by the waist and dragged backwards. It all happens so quickly. One second you're poised in the air, the next you barely feel his tip before you've been forcibly impaled on the biggest cock you've ever welcomed within yourself.

The noise you let out is more akin to a dying animal's howl to a human vocalization, completely overshadowing Morell's own guttural snarl of pleasure.

Oh God, are you bleeding? It burns, it burns hard... But fuck, you're so full. He's touching everything at once. You swear you can feel him in your fucking lungs, holy shit. Is he fully inside?! Glazed, tearing eyes glance down. There's a distinct imprint on your lower abdomen, but sure enough, the monster is fully sheathed inside you.

" Ffffuckin' Hell, piglet... " Morell slurs, breathing ragged while he throbs inside you, grabbing onto your legs to keep you from squirming while the two of you get used to the sensation. Your insides contract reflexively and the shroom shudders, gripping you tighter. " Ah sh- Don' squeeze like that yet, girl. " Easier said that done.

Instead of moving, Morell extends an arm to drag the platter closer to himself, taking a fat cut of the roasted person atop it and stabbing it onto the knife. Casually, it's brought up to your incredulous lips. " Go on, I know yer still hungry. "

God, this sickfuck... But you're not any better, because you do take a bite, in spite of how depraved this situation already is.

" That's it, enjoy yerself... " You'd enjoy it more if he wasn't rasping into your ear, it's a challenge trying to eat with him palming his own cock through your tummy and moaning quietly.

You nearly choke again when your clit gets toyed with out of nowhere, forcing you to keen around the mouthful of meat. The shroom cackles. It takes very little to make you cum. Stretched as you are, the chef only has to make a couple of half-hearted grinds up into your wriggling body and flick your button a couple of times before you're sobbing out what could have once been words.

They're not stars, but there's definitely something swimming in the corners of your vision when you arch and gush on Morell, cunt spasming viciously against hard flesh. He himself can't help but fuck into you with a lot more vigor, knife discarded back onto the table loudly as the male leans back and uses both hands to rapidly bounce your drooling, crying form on his cock. The noises are downright shameful.

It's a mind blowing orgasm, you can't lie. As much as you want to.

You're breathless, boneless against the cook. Surprisingly enough, he forces himself to slow down, exerting what you imagine must be a stupendous amount of self-control for an indulgent creature such as himself. A thankfully clean hand casually strokes through your hair, patting you softly in reward. " Good job, piggy. I almost lost maself there. "

Almost? It sure as fuck seemed like he went feral, judging by the force he fucked you with. Like a cock-sock, you weigh nothing to him. You dread knowing what a "lost" Morell must act like.

The shroom reaches past you to retrieve the kitchen knife, eating from it calmly while you roll your eyes. Seriously?

The last thing you expect is for him to grab your chin and jerk it up, sharing an unwanted kiss with you. The way your eyes bulge out when flesh is passed from his near lipless mouth into yours causes Morell to grin. You have no choice but to swallow, his tongue won't allow any fight. Ugh.

Fucking disgusting. He's horrid.

You spare the overgrown mushroom a look of unfiltered distaste, to which he just chuckles quietly and lovingly wipes the corners of your lips.

In moments, you're being lightly bounced again.

" Think ya can stomach some more? "

#Morell oc #tw cannibalism #tw gore #gore tw #cannibal tw #minors dni

[blackberry-gingham]

All We've Ever Known

Gambit x fem!reader | Chpt 1 > Chpt 2

Also available on ao3!

Summary: Retired from the X-Men, and on course for a new life, you and Remy have enjoyed a happy marriage of the last few years. With the slew of welcome, happy changes it's brought to his life, it's little surprise that they've begun to leave their mark on Gambit's person.

You see a happy, loving man who's simply grown into his body at last after a life of rigorous living. He sees a man so disgustingly different from the one you married, it makes him ill. Sparking a one sided divide in your relationship, things come to a head when you try to address things. Little do you know, He's felt this way for a long time now- And the infamous Remy Lebeau is nothing if not stubborn.

Tags: Body image issues, past weight gain, angst, fluff, married couple, and of course dad bod gambit

Tag list: @greenheart99 (I promise this one ends happy bestie 🥲🙏🏻) @samatedeansbroccoli (idk if dad bod is even your thing, feel free to ignore lol)

---

Another shirt on the bed. and another. and a small pile of pants all around on the floor. The things that fit, he doesn't like. Or, they don't fit well. Not like the way they should, anyway. Like how they used to.

So, here's another pair of pants, the need for a shirt currently put aside it would seem. These he used to love, strange that he's forgotten where they were for so long. They feel so restrictive coming up- but that's alright, they was always tight in the thigh. "Skinny jeans" and all that. Then with just a little more effort then he remembers needing, they're over the ass and...

They won't close.

But...? No, no. No, if he just pulls real hard and squeezes just right and sucks it in a little, maybe the lips of each hem will at least kiss. Right? They don't even have to button- he'd be happy just to have this... This one, little thing. So he gives one more good, solid pull.

He gives up soon after.

A kiss? Pah- more like a restraining order.

Gambit's arms, thick with muscle, drop to his side. They're far too tired from wrestling with garment after garment in the mirror. He used to love this pair, that he remembers well. Would wear them near everyday, as a mater of fact- Now it feels like he's lucky just to have gotten them up to his ass.

Where oh where has it all gone wrong... Things were so fine, so perfect when you two finally made it. After all the hardships and the differences and the figuring out, you finally made it. You were ready. He was ready. Ready for the long road. Ready for the big commitment.

More then ready- for one girl. Forever.

He can remember every detail from your wedding together- from your flowers to your makeup and hair and dress. The weather the time the songs the food they served the name of the venue- He's still got the suit he wore, you know. Anyone but you would've called it an eyesore, but it was far too him for you to have complained- perfect enough for your perfect day, on that merit alone. It's somewhere in this house, packed away in all this mess...

But he wouldn't dare try to look for it now.

Wouldn't look at it, wouldn't hold it up, and God forbid- wouldn't try it on.

No, he's far too terrified of what he'll be faced with for that. For the reality. The situation he's put himself into. The disappointment. It's a pain he cannot bear- Not lately. Especially not when it's such a dear memory so closely tied to you.

All that was years ago... Your wedding day. Sure you've gotten a little older. A little different here and there. But to him, you are always just the same. Just as gorgeous. Just as perfect. It's so unfair- You're the same now as when he first saw you, on that hot and humid day down in New Orleans. And when he went on that first, fancy date with you after weeks and weeks of trying to convince you. And when he proposed. And when you said yes. And when you got your first house together, and-

But him? Oh, he's changed alright. Just not nearly as gracefully. He used to be so lean and hard when you were dating. Always the same. Always handsome and fit. He was thief, a street rat. What was he if not limber and agile and tight? It was an achievement. A prize that had him winning in the game of life. He had something back then that every man wanted.

Wolverine was a little too bulky.

Cyclops and Kurt way too skinny.

But him? He was always perfect. The right amount of everything- They all knew it, the ladies too. Deep down, he always knew. It was obvious. Obvious enough that he didn't have to pretend to be so confident. So self assured and self absorbed.

Not like the way he has to now.

And wouldn't you know... It worked. Of course it did. He had so much attention. So many women. He could get anyone he wanted, because when all it was down to was his body versus another's- he was every bit the superior.

For a long time, he figured that was just what he'd won you over with. He had looks in the face and a body he knew you wanted to touch, and well... The rest is history. Sure, you would try to tell him it wasn't about that, but that's just how things were between you two. Always kidding. Always teasing, playfully taking the other down a peg.

He knew you didn't mean it when you said that.

It was the same thing when you'd tell him he wasn't taking care of himself. That he didn't eat well, or enough. "A cigarette isn't breakfast", you say. "A glass of whiskey isn't dinner", you say. But he'd only do those things once in a while- So it was fine, wasn't it? Like he said, all jokes. Just teasing.

Until... You got married. Then it was out with the old, in with the new. A new life. New habits. A new him.

Hell, he was so happy... He'd have brought you the moon, if only you'd ask. He still would, too.

Anything to make you happy. Anything that would earn him just a little more of your favor. He'd eat around you, just to keep you appeased. The both of you were living together now, there soon became no excuse to not eat what you'd give him. No excuse to live like a bachelor, and eat like shit- if at all. Not even an excuse to eat lean and calculated protein diets, like the damn X-Men wanted him to. That life was over, and all he remembers is... You were so, so happy. Just to be with him. Just to see him. Just to wake up each morning to these black and red eyes that landed him in the streets, and to go to bed each night listening to the amplified snores out of this big, proud, French nose.

You were finally married. Living together full time. Having every meal together. Every spare moment together. When he was so happy- he forgot all about what he looked like. What he felt like. What did it matter? He was married to the love of his life. He was free at last, never having to worry about ending up alone. So what did he care? He ate a little more- but he could still be the same. He could still wear his clothes and count a few ribs and when you touched his body he had abs to show you and veins and tendons and bones sticking out all over- You like the kind of stuff... right? He always thought so, at least. Why else were you with him, if not?

But somewhere along the way, he started to slip-

He wasn't thinking about what he was and wasn't eating. He wasn't paying attention to when he'd need or receive new or bigger clothes. Maybe here and there it would bother him... But you never treated him any different. Never stopped wanting to be with him or close to him. Never stopped being intimate. Never commented much at all on his looks, save to call him handsome or some such.

Nothing had changed between him and you- and that was all that mattered to him.

For a time, anyway.

Gambit continues to stare blankly at the mirror before him. Palms open, he runs his hand up his torso- from the waistband of his ill fitting pants, over his belly, to just bellow the lumps of his pectorals. The skin tenses as he pulls it up, returning with a gentle bounce when he lets go. He can't even see all the complex, intricate veins and tendons on the back of his hands anymore- His abs are long gone, and all those sinewy, thick veins too.

He's left with a shadow of his collar bone, a blanket over his once sharp, taught jawline and a wealth of pink, itching stretchmarks not quite through with the process of fading to white. They lace up his hips and his stomach and thighs, and if he looks too closely there's even one or two eking out from the sides of pecs-

And all he can think about, is how they never used to be there at all.

Forget the X-Men for a moment- Being a professional thief keeps you in a certain shape all in its own right, especially when you're running with the Guild. Toned but sleek. Streamline but buff. Hell, even when he finally did trade that life for the X-Men, things hardly changed. A little more muscle for the ladies, but not enough to cause him any damage. Quite the opposite, really-

And look at him now, huh?

Gambit turns a little to the side, just enough to get a good look as he flexes his thick arm. All at once as he does so, as though shocked with a stimulating current, the soft fat immediately gives way- Nowhere near as sharp as he'd like, but the entire extremity hardens and shapes. A few shallow lines and dents appear in the flesh, all showing off the magnificently impressive muscles hiding below the surface.

He could split firewood with his bare hands in a body like this- but what use is strength to him at the steep cost of his looks? At the cost of his abs? At the cost of his superhuman agility? At the cost of all the things that he's certain drew you to him to begin with. Those are the things that made him who he was. They defined him, and indeed they still do- They are what allow him to earn your love, after all.

And so without them...

With a deep sigh, Gambit relaxes his arm. Looking back in the mirror and to the long faded stretch marks marring his triceps, he can't help but remember- These were the first. The first, and perhaps the only ones he could tolerate. Who doesn't want bigger biceps, after all? These were but a small toll to pay for that larger goal. Thick muscles to show off all his hard work and training, after all- but Then... Then came all the rest.

He looks back down to his hips and belly. From this angle, he can best see the gentle furrows, the wrinkles, these scars of his carelessness have given him.

Wrinkles... at his age? Who indeed would want that-

"Remy! Are you coming?", you call up, laughing lightly, from somewhere downstairs.

Gambit snaps out of his nightmare, calling back a knee jerk response, "I'm comin'! I'm comin'...", he calls, then sighs.

Even from here, the smell of fresh breakfast wafts through the air. Between the two of you, and with a little training at the start from you to him, this house sees plenty of cooking. He loves to tease that you never make the food spicy enough, and he will all day long if you let him. If anyone else asked, however, he'll be quick to supply the truth- He loves your food. Besides, the simple fact that you'd go through that kind of trouble to make sure he's fed to begin with makes everything taste all the better, he thinks. No ones ever loved him like that before.

Gambit shucks the ill fitting jeans and trades them for whatever it is he was wearing to bed. He doesn't even bother checking the mirror to think about what to match them with- instead he grabs a sweater from the closet beside him. This sweater was his go to back when he was first starting to lose his abs. Just something big and baggy to hide away in- only until he could get his body back and all, of course.

Nowadays it clings to him far more then he would like.

Remy takes a deep breath, sucking it in as he straightens down the front of his top. Whatever you've got prepared, he's not sure he's willing to wait any longer- His stomach growls gruffly at the distant promise of food after a night of being empty.

Either hand already bracing his torso, Gambit clicks his tongue, muttering at the organ, "Now you hush"

With a huff, he lets go of his body and turns to take the long trek downstairs. The felted fabric rubs against his skin with each trot down the steps, itching uncomfortably against his scars, newer and older, and the trail of hair down below. It itches and jostles- and it makes him sick, just at the thought of himself.

They cloud his head all the way down, until he turns the corner... and the refreshing surprise of your lips on his clear the noise away. Caught off guard, a blissful groan escapes from him to you and the wash of peace is almost enough to distract him from your hands resting on his stomach. In your defense, he knows it's not your fault- It's only for balance on account of having to lean up and now over, too, to reach him.

Gambit sighs again, only this time without the joy of the first one. He remembers a time when your hands went to his chest when you kissed- He could pull you flat against his abs, get that little rush when you'd reach up on the tips of your toes to kiss him. Now he has no choice but to lean forward or be pulled in to meet you half way if he wants just one of said kisses.

You give his waist a welcoming few scratches and steal another kiss. Gambit takes your hands in his, holding them gently but firmly enough to ensure you cease such ministrations. He massages the back of your hands instead and anoints you with a kiss for forgiveness. There's something about your nails on the thin skin of his scars, even through his clothes, that scratch those old itches so, deliciously right.

He wonders if you know what it does to him. The relief. The comfort. The intimacy- He figures you must. After all, you're too sharp for him. Too attuned to his moods. To his subtle sounds and gestures and looks. Besides, he's none to proud of the noises that little move has gotten from him whenever he was too tired to know better. If that wasn't a give away, he's not sure what would've been.

Looking up with nothing but that sweet, sweet smile you let him hold your hands between the two of you.

"Mornin' ta you too, Cher"

You laugh, "I was starting to think you weren't coming"

"Aw, you know Gambit never miss a meal a' yours darlin", he squeezes your hands once more and nuzzles you with a playful growl- if only to disguise the petulant rumbling of his stomach.

The eggs and all are still warm when at last you both sit. You eat in a comfortable silence, a small but essential detail to married life. Strange, he never thought about the comforts of something as small as having someone to eat each meal with would offer... but he now knows it's one he wouldn't want to live without.

As always, the food is tasty and satisfying. He scarfs it down a little faster then he wants to, just to get his guts to be silent. You return his play of events with a curious glance, "Would you slow down? No one's going to take it from you, baby"

Your attempt at lighthearted teasing is far too overshadowed by the notes of concern within your own voice. In truth, it's not the speed that concerns you- no, you're used to him being a good, strong eater. It's the subtle things. The way he stabs the food a little too aggressively. The way he continues to huff bitterly through his nose.

It's not that he's not enjoying his meal- the satisfied little sighs after every other mouthful or so tells you that. It's more like... like he just wants to get this out of the way.

Odd... That's not like him.

As soon as you speak up, the strange mood seems to lift. He tries to smile and blow a compulsory huff of laughter and apology. He slows down, but that's not the change you were looking to help with. Still, it'll do you suppose. You shake the interaction out of your head and go back to your meal. When you've cut all that needs cutting upon your plate, you reach out to hold his hand while you eat- as you always do. You both enjoy quietly, with the occasional small talk around mouthfuls of food, as you always do. And when he's finished fighting with his meal, you offer him the remainder of what you couldn't finish from yours, just as you always do.

Gambit looks from his plate to yours, a guilty twinge coming over his thoughts. He makes a habit to never get enough food for himself- it feels far too incriminating to just outright take the amount he'd really like to have. It's an odd habit you think. And indeed, you know he does it- but still, one you've come to adapt to anyway. To compensate, you always take a little more for yourself then you know you can eat and give the intentional leftovers to him. He's never complained before- and after a while, it's now simply become habit.

The uncomfortable gnaw of a not quite satisfied stomach aches at him. It's almost like a pain. A wound. He can feel it, and the temptation to patch it up is so, so obtainable... He leans forward no more then a hair, just barely into the commitment of accepting your offer, only...

A half empty stomach may feel bad- but not quite as terrible as the way this shirt feels clinging around the paunch in his lap.

Gambit sniffs, twitching his aquiline nose sharply- a quick and clever disguise over the flash of a sneer he makes at himself, "Uh, no t'anks mama- Gambit not hungry"

He leaves you no room to question his choice- instead, he rises taking his and your plates with him to the sink. Any suspicions you would pose, are shut down with a grateful kiss to your forehead before he walks off. With an unreadable expression, you watch him scrape the food off your plate and down the sink.

Strange, you've never seen him turn you down before...

But you give your head a little shake to clear it. Perhaps he really is just full. No need to think too hard- You sigh to yourself and get up to help. On your way to clear the stove, you lay a hand across his back as thanks. After all, if there were an issue, you're sure he would tell you.

Right?

Breakfast passes and the dishes are done. The dissatisfaction of his stomach turns from mere annoyance, back to hunger, in a matter of hardly an hour. He tells himself he isn't hungry over and over and over again... but the success rate is low indeed. So instead, there he stands before the washer and dryer- burying himself in chores to distract from his woes.

In a set of real clothes at last, Gambit pulls out a shirt of his and gives it a snap before finding a hanger to put it on. He grumbles and hikes up his jeans yet again before leaning back down for the next article. Really, he grows weary of this room. Of this chore- This is just the place when he started to really take notice of how bad things were getting for himself, after all.

Now, he'll never forget.

Doing his own laundry. Hanging up his own jeans. Only to think to himself... There was no way these could be his. He'd always had a boxy waist, true enough. But only proportionately. Only in that it never cut in much from the width of his ribs. Even so- he was always slim. Slim enough that he's certain he'd never see pants of his that could be this wide.

But, they had to be- They were all like that, after all. Every single one in the wash, all roughly the same size as the last. Even now, he wishes he could choose not to believe it. He snaps the pants out and holds them aloft, inspecting them until he can no longer stand to look at them in full. He holds them closer and rolls apart the front and back of the waistband. On the back tag, he has only to read the inches starting with "4" before he winces.

He remembers when all his pants started with a low 3-somethng. Even just that difference was far more preferable to the 40s he's holding now.

Once, a while ago, the idea had entered his head that perhaps he was merely remembering wrong. He'd always been boxy, was he ever really that small in the waist? After all, he still had old clothes stored up somewhere... Where were those? He just wanted to see... Call it peace of mind, if you will.

Maybe he was remembering wrong- Surely that was all.

He remembers cutting out from the laundry room that day, the perfect time to do this without your notice. He remembers scuttling up to the attic, digging through all the boxes and boxes of old shit that he always told you he'd get around to getting rid of, but never did- He remembers he was so determined to be right. So sure that he hadn't let things get all too bad. He just needed to see that things hadn't changed as much as he thought.

Yes... That would do. That would appease him. It would soothe his ego enough for now before he made work towards shedding the weight. Towards getting back on track.

And when he finally found that box he was looking for... All he remembered, was how his blood ran cold.

Not quite a pair of pants, but there was that shirt- The one he'd wear under his armor, for compression and a tad of extra protection. It was a special weave, meant to supplement the suit he wore on the outside. And when he held it up, all those months ago...

It felt like a garment for a child.

It hadn't been washed. Hadn't shrunk. It was perfectly preserved up here with all the rest, and yet... What more was there to say? After such a crushing blow as that- He hadn't the heart to keep digging through the old clothes. No, his next move was to package it up in defeat and let you give it all away. He didn't even want the possibility of a reminder.

To this day, he still doesn't quite remember what those old pants of his used to measure. And further still- He's not sure he wants to.

That was about 4 months ago.

Tonight, Gambit braces his hands on the bathroom sink, leaning in close to the mirror before him. He clears a circle in the residual steam from his shower to take a good long look at his face. A swath of stubble has overtaken his jaw and chin. Normally this is admittedly of little interest to him- After all, the women always loved a little scruff, who cared if it wasn't perfectly shaped up all the time?

But, that was back when he couldn't see the underside of his jaw while looking straight on. Back when he didn't have this ghost of a double chin- Back when he actually had a nice jawline to give the hair some shape. Now? He feels like just another disheveled slob.

It's always a battle choosing. To shave or not to shave? And even then- how much is too much, or too little? He hates the way it grows down to his throat, but so too does he despise the way being perfectly clean shaven highlights that puffy, baby look his cheeks have come to possess. With a practiced flick, Gambit opens his straight edge and decides to get to work. Now that he's thinking about it, he doesn't want to have to look this long at himself for a while...

Maybe shaving down completely is for the best.

With long strokes of the razor, soon enough he falls into habit again. Gambit watches his hand for a little, before growing bored. His eyes flick back up in the mirror, making contact with his own reflection. His eyes, black with all but glowing rings of red, stare back at him. They look so, so tired... To think, these were the very things that got him put out by his own parents. Dumped in the streets and on the fringes of society ever since.

It was different enough to be noticed, but never so much so that it scared off the masses too bad. He was... unique, sure. But he never thought of himself much as a monster. To claim such a title would be laughable at best and distasteful at worst with the likes of Hank and Kurt around, but... Now? Now he thinks about it all the time. What else is there to call himself? Big and ugly and nothing like how he used to be not but a few years back-

Now, he looks more the part. The disgusting creature all those anti mutant mobs want to make people like him, like mutant kind as a whole, out to be. His limbs are thick and muscular, his body heavy set now that it's filled out to it's potential. Like he could cause some real damage if he wanted. Like he could rip through rebar or punch through rocks- like he could be scary. Dangerous, even, only now you can see it with but the assistance of his discolored eyes, instead of getting caught off guard by the surprise and might of his powers.

It doesn't feel good.

It doesn't feel earned or empowering or brag worthy... To be so big. So strong. So intimidating to look at.

It feels like it makes him ugly. Like he doesn't deserve someone as gorgeous and perfectly normal as you. Like he doesn't deserve the food he eats, or the clothes he wears, or the tender affections you lie and bestow upon him.

Gambit turns his head this way and that, inspecting the shave job. He runs a hand from his chin to his throat, feeling the soft little slope of skin disguising the bone beneath it, then eyes the expected outcome- those puffy baby cheeks and that soft jaw on full, glistening display. With that same long gaze, he watches the man in the mirror. His eyes are lost, scanning all over at the imperfections. God, he could stand here all night picking himself apart- Which makes him at least a little thankful to be rescued by your voice.

You call him out of the bathroom, urging him to come to bed at last. Remy sighs, reaching tiredly for one of many vaguely baggy shirts that he's regulated to a pj top.

"Comin", he calls back, pulling the shirt over his mostly dry body and trudging out the door.

The two of you exchange greetings and small talk for a decent while- but it's not until the conversation hits that sweet spot, the one where he knows you're going to lean in to wind down. The part where you're going to reach over to touch him. To try and cuddle. This past week, he's done a masterful job of evading this little part.

Although... Not because he wants to, per say.

It's because he must.

He's done so much to try and hide himself from you. Only he can know how far he's let himself go. Only he can be allowed the sting of being faced with the fact that he is no longer the man you married. The Remy you knew was svelte and trim and the most handsome man around. If you knew how much different he was, how really different- There's not a doubt in his mind that you'd come to hate him. To reject him-

Just as he hates and rejects himself.

What good is he to you like this? An embarrassment- That's what.

You continue on with your sentence, blissfully unaware of the turmoil in his mind, as your hand reaches out to rest on his dense body. Ever the clever mind, Gambit yawns and stretches big. He doesn't interrupt your little speech- but he does turn to his side and lay down. Away from you.

He pulls the blanket up, and hums along to show at least some degree of engagement with the things you say. But even so- it pains him to hear that drop of disappointment in your voice. He thinks again, maybe a little glance over his shoulder to at least look at you while you talk. Not good enough, it would seem.

With a barely disguised frown, you lay down on your own side too, watching his back dejectedly as you finish up your closing thought.

"Are you, uh... tired, then?"

Gambit turns over his shoulder once, then twice, as though your statement surprises him, "Hm? Oh, uh- yeah. Sorry cherie, Gambit have a long day, das' all"

You hum and nod, more to yourself then anything else. Gambit shoots you a small smile, doing wonders to conceal the guilt pounding inside him. With nothing left to be said, you wish him a good night... and click off the light.

#remy lebeau #gambit x reader

[sparrowsworkshop]

“All I Am” by OneWingedSparrow, for Zelink Week 2023; Chapter 1: Deceptive Appearances

Next Chapter >>> (Coming Soon) Fic Summary: The captain of the Knights of Hylia has been tasked with holding back the demon king’s forces. Aware that he is out of his league, Link struggles with coming to terms with the gravity of this command. Fortunately, Hylia is watching out for him. Main Tags: Link / Hylia, Hylia & The First Hero, Hylia & Link vs Demise, Worth, Purpose, Romance, Skyward Sword I Love You But We Ignore SkSw Canon for the Sake of Creative Liberty, I suppose that fact makes this an AU, it’s supposed to be set way before the events of Skyward Sword anyway, Additional Tags to Be Added Warning Tags: Alcohol Use, Conversations about Death, Struggling with Feeling Unworthy, Addtional Tags to be Added

Author’s Note: This fic will be rated M on AO3, but will stay SFW throughout. Before you choose to read, please be mindful that this story will touch upon heavier themes. Angst with a Good Ending: As of now, I cannot promise that this story will have a Happy ending; but I am certain that it will be Good. Read on AO3 @zelinkcommunity​ Here is my fic for Day 2 of Zelink Week 2023! “Forbidden.” The rest of this fic will not be posted for Zelink Week (I have other fics to share for the remaining days), but I intend to return to it at a later date! I hope you will keep it on your radar! ✨ Reblogs are appreciated!

~ He was going to die. He knew better than to believe in mercy from a demon king. That’s why Link didn’t bat an eye at the inflated price of Tabantha’s homemade whiskey, but simply tossed the bag of rupees over the counter at her and started drinking straight from the bottle. If anyone had been seated on the empty stool to his right, they might have noted the haggard lines carved into the man’s forehead—that is, if those were even visible under the low-hanging hood of his tattered black cloak. If such a person had a keen eye, they might even have recognized the blood red scarf tucked inside the hood, a noose that never left his neck; and they would well have wondered, perhaps aloud, “What is the captain of Hylia’s army doing at this bar at this hour, drinking his life away?” Not that the captain himself would have answered. Link’s eyes were distant, staring into a realm no mortal could wander. He downed the whiskey with the same practice and precision as he might have driven a blade into the heart of a foe. How long he sat there, whiling away what little remained of his life, Link neither knew nor cared. Though Tabantha’s bar was filled with its usual number of patrons, and a steady hubbub rollicked the room, silence was the captain’s only companion. Until someone took the stool to his right, and swung it towards him, long skirt swishing over the worn, oak floor. Removed though he was, the motion caught his eye. Link glanced over the bottle to see a woman beside him, leaning one elbow over the bar. The light from the sconces on the wall seemed to make her hair sparkle; golden, it was, and long like a tapestry, with purple beads braided into a few choice sections. If he was in his right mind, he might have thought her beautiful. But hearts blinded by dread so rarely acknowledge the beauty set before them, prominent though it may be. “No man thirsts so without reason,” his companion said. Her voice was soft, and seemed to float through the air like a feather. “What is it that you seek to forget?” Link tugged at his scarf, freeing just enough to wipe his mouth. A burp came out before his reply, but he was too drunk for his lack of table etiquette to bother him. “All of it,” he said, raising the bottle in a solitary toast. “Take it...take it away.” “That is much to ask for, my friend. Is that truly what you wish?” “Why not?” He laughed, hard and long, but there was no humor in the sound. “No point in holding on. You get it, yeah? You—you unnerstand.” Even the hearty din of the room could not drown out her silence. She was quiet for a time, though he wasn’t sure how long that time was. He shouldn’t have cared—why was this woman even bothering to talk to him, anyway?—and yet, when he tipped the bottle back again, it froze before the rim even touched his lips. She...she was looking straight at him, and for some reason, he startled. Her face...those eyes. Did he know her? Huh. How strangely...familiar. This unplanned staring contest could have gone on forever, had the woman not looked away first. Despite this, Link knew she was not turning away from him, not writing him off as some drunken fool blabbering on. No, she was still listening; he was convinced she was listening. For some reason, words started to dribble out of his mouth, freely as the whiskey on his chin. “We’re gonna die,” Link said bluntly. “We’re all gonna die. They think we can fight the Demon King. Ha!” His voice cracked. “Th’ last line of defense, they call us, an’ they’re right, they’re right. They’re right, y’know. We can’t hold him off for long. Not alone, without divine aid.” He spread his arms wide for dramatic effect, and then let them fall, limply, to his sides. Her long, pointed ears inclined towards him, her countenance somber. “Your wisdom is sound,” she said softly. “Facing him alone is ill-advised.” The bottle was slick in his grasp. He tipped it on accident, spilling a considerable amount of booze on his cloak. Link growled at the treachery, and tried unsuccessfully to wipe it away. “You need not face him alone, Link. I vow, I shall be with you.” This news was surprising enough to divert his attention. He looked her up and down. Round face, white dress, bare feet. Her hands looked too soft to have held any weapons. Her face seemed too peaceful to have seen much battle. If she believed herself a warrior, where was the proof? “You?” he said hoarsely, now too tired to laugh. “I,” she said, with a smile that rivaled the glitter of her beads. “You,” he repeated, frowning. Such confidence, such poise...it all seemed so familiar. Was she an acquaintance? An old friend? Did he know her after all? He couldn’t recall. “Wha’s—” Link hiccuped. “Your name, by the by?” “Hylia,” she replied. “I am Hylia.” Link stared at her through bleary eyes. “Like the—the, the goddess?” “Precisely like the goddess,” said the woman named Hylia, feathery voice embellished with a certain fondness. “You are correct.” Well, he didn’t know anyone named Hylia. Clearly, his gut was mistaken. She must have reminded him of someone he once knew. “Tha’s funny,” Link mused. “You don’...look like a Hy...lia.” With that proclamation, he tipped off the stool. The whiskey slipped from his fingers; but Hylia caught the bottle before it could crash to the floorboards alongside his crumpled form. The liquid sloshed lackadaisically within; the bottle was nearly empty. “And you do not look like a Hero, Captain,” Hylia said, peering down at the floor where he lay, hood and scarf both fallen askew. She set the whiskey upon the counter, and the brown glass dimly reflected the faint glow of her long, golden hair. “But appearance oft belies the deeper truth within.” *        *        * A ruthless hangover thrashed him into waking. Hmm. Tent poles. He was in his tent, back at the warcamp. Birds twittered outside, gossiping behind his back. He sat up and groaned, shooing a fly away from his face. How...did he get here? He had no memory of the night before. “Well, that’s mighty fine,” Link said aloud, with a snort. There was much he wished he could forget; the escapades of last night were certainly the least of his troubles. Summoned by his voice, the flap of the tent lifted. The army cook poked his head in, immediately wrinkling his nose. “Captain. I see you’re awake.” “Yeah? I see it too,” Link muttered dryly. Stretching, he reached for his nearby daypack, and began rummaging through its pockets. “Do you have anything truly useful to report, Dovos?” “The soldiers grow antsy,” Dovos said. “You are not usually absent for the morning drills. Pipit wanted to wake you earlier, but left to run the drills instead.” His fingers danced between several smooth, cold objects. There was a catch. There was always a catch. “How kindhearted of Pipit to let me sleep in,” Link said, distractedly. “I sent him away from your tent.” The cook cleared his throat. “Captain, I...I never thought you to be a drinking man.” There it was. “I am not,” Link replied, and tossed a gift through the air. A single rupee landed in Dovos’ open palms. When he saw the color, the cook’s tanned face turned darker than ever. “Silver? You play a dangerous game, Captain. The Knights of Hylia must abstain from alcohol. You know this.” “And a man on his deathbed is gifted spirits to drown the pain,” Link snapped. “If Hylia so desires, she may strike me down. Frankly, it would be a mercy.” So saying, he threw another rupee at the man. This time, it was gold. Dovos’ eyes went wide. “I appreciate your concern,” Link said, voice hardening, “but my business is my own. Consider this my token of thanks for carrying me back, and mind that you do not follow me on my private outings again.” “I did not carry you back, sir,” Dovos stammered, fumbling with the rupees. Link scowled. “Un—understood, Captain.” The cook ducked, and the flap closed after him. Blasted headache. Link rubbed his eyes, while his dry, dirty hair fell over his face like a veil. What had become of him the evening before? Had he stumbled back here alone? In the dark? Miles from camp? No...someone had to have been with him. Hiding his intoxicated state from the soldiers. Ensuring no one took advantage of him on the way. Keeping him from getting lost. With a sigh, Link loosened the scarf on his neck, and then threw the soiled fabric to the corner of the tent. As if that would happen. No one ever cared that much. ~ Next Chapter >>> (Coming Soon)

#thanks for reading! #zelink week 2023 #zelink community #hylink #hylia #the first hero #hylia and the first hero #multichapter fic #alternate universe #link #dovos #tloz #tloz fanfic #fanfic #all i am #the legend of zelda #zelda fanfic #fanfiction #sparrow fics #forbidden #loz #loz fanfic #legend of zelda

[aphelea]

save yourself tonight

Once again I'm a day late but shh. We'll ignore that. Anyway, here's my fun little fic for @tiertice-week-2023 day 3: AU.

@gay-otlc @cogaytes y'all get tagged for all my tiertice bullshit

Summary: In an alternate universe, Tiergan is there when Alden and Quinlin come to arrest Prentice. Desperate to save his lover, Tiergan throws himself into the fire instead.

Ao3

“It was me.”

The room was pin-drop silent, and Quinlin and Alden shared an indecipherable look. Slowly, Tiergan stepped in front of Prentice, holding Alden’s gaze all the while. 

“What?” Quinlin asked after a moment. “Look, Sir Tierg—”

“Don’t call me that,” he snapped. 

Quinlin huffed. “Tiergan, then. We’re not here for you.”

“You could be,” Tiergan replied, and he could almost feel Prentice’s eyes boring into his back. “If I said that I was secretly a rebel sympathizer, and that I had stolen, classified Council documents sitting in my office, you’d have no choice but to take me instead.”

“We’re perfectly capable of arresting both of you,” Alden replied coolly. “I’d advise you to watch your words, Sir Tiergan, given the severity of these charges.” 

“You have no evidence but some hunches and a handful of odd—but not incriminating—registry records.” Tiergan said. “Your accusations are unfounded.”

Alden’s carefully neutral expression twitched slightly, and Tiergan allowed himself a smidgen of satisfaction at having annoyed Alden Vacker enough to break his emotionless facade. “I’d argue that we have more than enough evidence to arrest the both of you, now. But I’m feeling generous, and I’d rather not do so today.”

“Generous?” Tiergan scoffed. “You’re ripping a man away from his family, his wife, his son. I’d hardly call that generous.”

Quinlin clicked his tongue. “There are always consequences for those that break the law, regardless of their familial relations.”

Tiergan opened his mouth to speak, but stopped as Prentice laid a cool hand on his shoulder and stepped forward. “Gentlemen,” he said, “I’m afraid there’s been a few misunderstandings, here.”

“On the contrary, Mr. Endal, I think this situation is quite simple. We only have a few questions to ask you, and after that—”

“He’s innocent,” Tiergan cut in. “Don’t drag him into this.”

Tiergan, what the hell are you doing? Prentice’s voice appeared in his mind. 

I’m doing what’s right. What I deserve, and you do, too. 

Prentice let out a sigh. This is part of my job, Tiergan, you know that. I’m the Keeper. 

Exactly, which is why you should be out here, free, with Cyrah and Wylie and protecting our secrets. All I am is another spy. Our world can survive without me. 

Tiergan–

“I confess to the crime of treason and rebel sympathies,” Tiergan blurted out. 

Both Quinlin and Alden froze in their tracks and locked eyes, no doubt sharing a matching telepathic conversation to his and Prentice’s. “I have spent my life actively working to undermine the Council and any institutions over which they preside. I am also guilty of having intentionally altered registry records of myself and others, which you will find to be the reason behind the oddities in Prentice’s records.”

“Are you crazy?” Prentice hissed, and Tiergan made his best attempt at an overdramatic sigh. 

“My love,” he said, turning and grabbing Prentice’s hands. Alden sucked in a breath at the words. “I apologize for betraying you.”

“What–”

Tiergan had read enough romance novels in his life to know how this situation should go, how he should go about convincing Quinlin and Alden that Prentice was simply an innocent, deceived lover, unaware of his partner’s treasonous actions. If Tiergan could seem dramatic and devastated enough, the Cognates might actually believe that he felt guilty over almost framing his lover. 

Plus,  Tiergan had more than enough experience painting himself to be someone he wasn’t. 

He forced tears to his eyes—which, unsurprisingly, wasn’t particularly difficult—and threw his arms around Prentice, pulling him into what seemed from the outside to be a mournful hug between hurt lovers. Instead, he used it to lean next to Prentice’s ear and whisper, “I’m sorry.”

“What the hell are you doing? They came for me, because of my mistakes—”

“They came to find a Black Swan operative. And they did. Me. I’m just one person, Prentice, I’m nothing unique to this cause, but you? You’re our Keeper, our light, our most dangerous weapon.” Tiergan paused, then added. “Go live a happy life, love. You deserve it.”

Alden cleared his throat, and the two broke apart. “Sir Tiergan,” he began, and Tiergan wanted to slap him just for the name. “I’ll admit, this new information certainly alters our hypotheses. In any case, if you truly are confessing to this…long list of crimes, it will certainly warrant a Tribunal.”

Tiergan scoffed. “Well, I’m sure you’d be overjoyed to see me Exiled.” 

Alden shifted uncomfortably, and Quinlin, ever the knight in shining armour, jumped to his rescue. “Watch your words, Mr. Alenefar. Your apparent protection of Mr. Endal is certainly noble, but I don’t think you’ve quite considered the severity of the consequences to come.”

“Prentice doesn’t need me to protect him from shit,” Tiergan snapped. “I’ve told you what you wanted to know, so you can either fuck off right now or drag me with you in chains. And, trust me, I’m well aware of the consequences.”

Prentice frowned. “Tiergan...”

But Alden stepped forward and locked the magisidian handcuffs around Tiergan’s wrists, and he didn’t resist. There was no point in resistance; what was done had been done, what was said had been said, and now Tiergan only had to pay the price. 

A Tribunal. A mind break. Exile. 

An awfully high price to keep Prentice free, but Tiergan would never let Wylie and Cyrah be abandoned because of his and Prentice’s foolish attempts at fairness in the Lost Cities. Yes, Tiergan was willing to die for an impossible ideal, and that was fine—he had almost nothing to keep him from rashness, nothing except Prentice. But Prentice? Prentice had everything to lose. He had status, a wife, a son—and neither Cyrah nor Wylie deserved to be collateral damage from his and Tiergan’s idiocy. 

“I’m sorry, love,” Tiergan said, as the Cognates dragged him away. “I’m so sorry.”

But Prentice could only stare back in shocked, betrayed silence. 

#hi yall im. tired. so here have a fic #im counting it as an alternate universe because it is technically canon divergence but on thin fuckin ice #i think as this week goes on my fics are going to become stranger and stranger #tiertice #tiertice week 2023 #august's writing! #<- hmm. i really do need to remove that exclamation point (i literally said this a year ago and still havent done it)

[29daffodils]

10 BL People That I Want Carnally

i was tagged by the lovely @thisautistic

I'm so sorry i took so long for this, hun, but I'm going through a lot of hectic things in life at the moment and i am ✨ stumped ✨

now, while I'm very much asexual and my only “carnal” thirst for them exists because i kin??? them, i would have also absolutely gone and banged them (theoretically speaking) if i weren't ace because we are so alike. so it's essentially my favourite BL boys 😂

and here's my pick (in mostly chronological order)!

(also this does get a little too personal, hence the cut.)

1. vegas (kinnporsche the series)

ohhhh what to say about my man, my perfect little imperfect psychopath [affectionate] meow meow

if you'd have put me in a BL, this would have been me. yes, with all those daddy issues and possesiveness and swag. he is the ultimate man i'd go for. also because i absolutely always fall for the red flag men lmao

2. alan (moonlight chicken)

alan beat pete to the 2nd spot simply because he is me and i am him in actual real adult life. we are workaholics, like to treat our s/o with expensive food, remember every anniversary date to the point of being called clingy and obsessive and always want to know what we did wrong because there must be a logic to it, oh! we also get pissed when being two timed, yes. and we surprisingly grow a spine when we realise what our worth is in someone's life.

like listen there was no way i couldn't have fallen for alan, but also because glasses and…. i really dig men with glasses okay?? but also, first. nobody could have done it like first. i want a man as whipped as he is for gaipa.

3. pete (kinnporsche the series)

oooof what can i say about him. i always say he is a “fast fists, big hits” kinda guy and so am i. we like to meld into the background, hoping nobody perceives us. add to it all the trauma and hopeless loyalty towards red flag men. we are basically besties. and i love him very much. i'd totally marry him.

oh, yes, kissing is also, for people we like only.

4. ray (only friends)

he is my other meow meow because i wanna give him everything i never got. also we are both people who have shitty friends and they only come when we are suicidal lmao. two hands aren't enough to count the amount of times we've been told we are too burdensome. ray needs a weighted blanket for his sadness and while he is rich and can buy 10 of them, i'd like to pamper him anyway.

5. sand (only friends)

last but not the least, sand. my boy sand. he is kind to a fault. he loves endlessly. he is everything that i am but also what i wish i could become. and we both love rock music and arctic monkeys (because awesome taste, really).

if i ever manage to land myself a guy, i wish i get him. because he is the gold standard. truly.

okay, that's about it. this is all the BL i've ever watched and the others i have before, i don't really feel much for the characters.

i'll tag @boyslovecorner @peachym00 @ae-azile if they'd like to do it, but please feel free to ignore! 🌸

#tag game #my posts #source : 29daffodils

[diari0deglierrori]

D:

Hiiiii!!!! @omarfor-mp3 I’m diari0deglierrori, I’m alive and (almost) well, sorry to appear like this out of the blue but I was desperate and I’m feeeling awful and I need to vent so I figured I’d make a new blog to explain a bit. I saw your post about a mutual disappearing and figured it could be me (in the eventuality of it not being about me, feel free to ignore). So! Where do I start.

It all started on a dark January afternoon, the sky was grey and the air- ok I’ll go straight to the point: so I was just chilling, using this app as usual, and then all of a sudden, the Wi-Fi went down for like an hour and I couldn’t use it anymore, so ok, I go on with my life (although very annoyed because I had things to say). So then it seems that the Wi-Fi is back, at least insta is working, so I come back here to make a post about it (I don’t even know if it got published or not though? Something about the Wi-Fi who stopped working right when I was about to watch a movie ?) But when I hit post an error message appeared, the one that usually appears when there’s not Wi-Fi, so I try turning on my phones data and all to make it work but it doesn’t change a thing, I only get error messages. Then foolish little old me thinks it’s only because of a bad connection again so I check everything else to see if they work or not, every other app seems to be working so I come back here and when I check on my blogs they all seem to be gone, only my main’s name appears (it kind of happened once but only lasted about 5/10 minutes) so I start to worry and check other peoples blogs to see if it’s just the app or me. I figure I can go on the trending page, I can search things and go on blogs, so I go on yours and see the post about a mutual disappearing and it hits me. I’m simply gone. My whole life for the past 9ish years, vanished. I’m devastated. Oh but the problems are only getting started! I somehow still think my phone is the main problem, maybe it crashed a bit somehow so I go on settings and turn it off, thinking that maybe it’ll kind of reset things (not like reset reset, you know? Just like when you turn it off and on? I can’t explain right, my brain feels crushed). So I do the usual, turn it off, wait for a couple of minutes and try turning it on again. It does, the screen turns on, it says it’s locked and to swipe up to unlock, which I do. But it doesn’t work, the screen doesn’t move. I touch the buttons and they work just fine, I mean I can put it on mute and stuff, but nothing that needs the screen. So I start to panic a bit, tell people to call it so I can see if it still works, so they do and I see it can ring but I can’t swipe to answer, it’s like it’s frozen or something. But like not completely, I don’t know how to explain. Anyway, long story short I think I broke my phone, I can’t use it anymore, but the screen stays on and the hours go by, as if it was just mocking me. This is when you realize you’re stupid and wished you did a backup before, which I never do because as I said, I’m stupid. So anyway I tried to go log on my tumblr on my laptop but it didn’t work, so I tried changing the password too but then it said that my account got terminated and that I should report it to the staff or something… so I did, I’m waiting to see if they’ll ever answer.

I looked it up and apparently it happened to a lot of people, someone even explained it better than me: 

“Originally it wouldn't load and said I needed to log in. I logged out and attempted to log back in, but it said my email/password was wrong. I tried to change my password and now it says my account was terminated. I've had this account for 10 years.”. 

Same thing happened to me. 

Aaaanayway, I’ve been dying inside ever since, hahahahahahejsfbkand 

(I’m tagging you because of the post btw, sorry to bother) 

#I’m so upset #Sorry again!! #Sara I could tag you to but didn’t dare to so I just followed with this blog maybe you’ll see this too #The rest of my mutuals is not really active everyday I’m sure they won’t notice I’m gone #I mean I could tell myself ‘bold of you to assume anyone would’ #But still #Anyway I made this way too long too so sorry

[j-ellyfish]

8 Shows to know you

Tagged by @fortune-maiden

Tagging: @paperuniverse @germanyskrazythiccass @hondakiku @fireandiceland @maryeve-the-bitch @crumpled--notes (feel free to ignore it ofc)

Thank you for the tag! This is gonna be challenging because I don't watch much in general, and as a consequence many/most of these are from my childhood or many years ago, but still-

Trying to mix it up with some Western cartoons/shows too :3

1. Pokémon

Even though I haven't followed the anime religiously since DP times, I can't avoid adding it since it sparked my interest in Pokémon videogames when I was 5 and I'm still a huge Pokémon fan to this day, 22 years later. The Gen1-2 anime has the most special place in my heart, but I am quite fond of the Gen3 anime too. Not as much of the Gen4 anime, but I did like it.

2. Hetalia

Yes, pulling out the two most meaningful ones to my existence right away. What do I have to say about Hetalia? 12 years and counting, I can be a very loyal fan when something resonates enough with my heart. I watched the anime first, and I fell in love at episode 1 already. Not even sure why, but yeah. You can't explain love, can you? y-y

3. Corrector Yui

A sadly quite underrated majokko anime from the early 2000s. I'm not the biggest magical girl fan, and I soon grew out of that phase when I was a kid, but this anime, oh God, this anime. I love it so much, I plan to rewatch it entirely but so far I only binged several episodes. But anytime I'm like "okay I'm just watching this one ep" I end up binging at least two or three. Which is a lot for my standard, I drop anime very easily especially nowadays. The fact that it can keep my nostalgia going and it doesn't give me the "my god how did I like this as a kid?" reaction (unlike Tokyo Mew Mew, sorry).

Also!! This anime is structured in a way that loosely resembles AUs and I remember this is one of the aspects that got me hooked as a kid in the first place (the other aspect is that the protagonist isn't actually using magic, but rather highly advanced technology). Basically, the protagonist can materialize herself into the Internet and each site is basically an Alternate Universe - there's one themed like the Far West, one that is populated by characters from fairytales, one sets you up as the protagonist of a Murder Mystery and so on. It's such a cute idea, I love it a lot!! I think it influenced my taste in fandom experience a lot, despite back then I didn't even have access to the Internet.

4. The Simpsons

Listen. The first seasons were gold. No wonder they gave birth to so many memes. I'm always up to watch them, and newer seasons fucking enrage me. How tf do you ruin such a good show?? Yikes. Anyway, I'm pretty sure it shaped my humor a bit because there's so many quotes and scenes I remember and come to my mind whenever they apply/relate to something I'm seeing.

5. Hamtaro

I was addicted to this anime, I had so many plushies and toys too!! Too bad someone convinced me to give away most of them when I was in the preteen phase, fuck. Probably not something I'd ever rewatch because I'm way out of the target now, but some scene here and there?? Sign me up! Obviously, I'm talking about the old seasons, because they look awful with the newer design where they have giant heads and the tiniest body. Relationship dynamics between the characters were so good.

Also the videogames! Hamtaro: Ham-Hams Unite! and Hamtaro: Ham-Hams Heartbreak are great games that can be enjoyed by adults too. They're very wholesome and with a nice humor, perfect cozy games for when you want to just play something cute and positive that still requires a little bit of thinking.

6. Community

Ngl, I don't think I've watched all of it because I simply do not have the habit of watching TV shows on streaming sites and I don't really obsess over them, I just watch them as they're broadcasted on regular TV. But this one was so good (at least as long as Troy was around), I love how meta it can get by playing with different tropes, genres and even media. Probably the only American show with real actors that has a place in my heart.

7. The Amazing World Of Gumball

Like the rest of the American stuff in this list, I don't actively search for it, but if I cross path with it I'll gladly watch it. Gumball is one of those things that gets me so hooked for the time an episode is playing. I love how non-sense it is, but I think how creative it is visually, merging many different animation methods, is actually what attracts me the most to it. I simply love how all these different mediums and styles are made to coexist in the same frames.

8. Binan koukou Chikyuu bouei-bu LOVE!

Aka, virtually the last anime I managed to watch without dropping it after the first episode. God, it is so hard for me to resonate enough with an anime/show/anything, I'm sooo picky 😅 Anyway, ye, this is mostly what filled my thoughts for a good chunk of my hiatus period where I took a break from the Hetalia fandom (that lasted a few years). I obsessed quite a lot about it, I love the first season especially (second season is alright, HappyKiss should burn at a stake, sorry) and I feel compelled to add it to this list especially for how much I related to one of the characters especially and because my favorite ship (which wasn't even canon, barely had any moment 💔) accidentally inspired some aspects of a ship between my original OCs. Yes, I have OCs. And a story I'd like to work on. Maybe one day ... I'd love to show my babies to you guys one day.

#write new post no reblog thanks! #ary spoke

[fluffytriceratops]

Forever & Always.

Iris belongs to @digitl-art-monstr + Alba & Ro belong to @rheawritesforfun !

Read Iris’ parts here: Part One & Part Two.

Read Alba’s part here: Wedding Night.

Read Ro's part here: Pillow-fort Talk.

Notes: Here you are, here’s your food— I loved this little series so much I just had to write a teeny addition to it! I had the day off today so I spent the majority of the time doing chores, dancing in my kitchen, and pulling this from my ass. I can’t be bothered to edit it properly so it might be full of mistakes, but eh— just ignore em. X’D I hope you enjoy it anyway! Take care of yourselves!! HAVE THE MANY VIRTUAL HUGS!!! <333

Warnings: mature language, mild nsfw/sexual mentions,

Tags: @thelaundrybitch @turtle-babe83 @mysticboombox @leosgirl82 @drowninghell @post-apocalyptic-daydream @squirrelfurs @raphslovemuffin80 @raphielover @tmntspidergirl

(If you want to be tagged in my future TMNT related posts, feel free to let me know and I’ll happily add you!)

—

“Well, that was rather unexpected.” Kristina mumbled as Raph helped Donnie off the floor. Too drunk to even walk back to his own hotel room properly. The purple masked terrapin had just finished his little karaoke performance. It was practically radiating passion and heat. All of it directed towards the red haired kitsune.

“Tell me about it.” Ro murmured, swirling the remnants of her drink in her glass. Mikey all but glued to her hip.

Kris took a sip of her own alcoholic beverage, glancing around the room for Iris, taking quick notice that she was no where in sight. “Where is Gigi?” She asked, brow raised quizzically. She locked eyes with both Ro and Mikey, who simply shrugged their shoulders and joined her in glancing around the room. Kris let out a small hum and set her drink on the bar, waltzing away in a specific direction in hopes of finding her friend. However, she didn’t have much luck.

She was still looking when a large pair of arms wrapped around her torso. Kristina gasped in surprise as her back was pulled flush against her husbands chest. She peeked up at Raphael through her feathered lashes and chuckled in amusement as he rubbed his snout against her cheek. “You smell good—“

“Have you seen Iris?” She was on a mission to make sure her friend was okay, and no one was going to get in her way of that. Even if that special someone was her supposed soulmate.

Raph blinked at the sudden question, “I saw her run to the bathroom earlier, but— hey, where are you going?” Kris was quick to leave his warm embrace and make her way in that direction. Ignoring Raphael’s whines and complaints. Celebrating Leo and Alba’s love reminded him of the love he held for his own wife. It felt like just yesterday they were holding a similar (kinda) party for their own wedding celebration.

Unfortunately, when Kris got to the bathroom Iris was no where in sight. This made the brunette pout. She placed her hands on her hips and left the room in search of Alba, hoping that perhaps she’d have some decent answers. It didn’t take long for Kristina to find her. She and Leonardo were almost always together and he was pretty easy to spot. The long haired maiden ignored Lee’s whines and grabby hands, simply brushing him off as she talked to his wife.

“So I went to check on Iris after Raph came back from escorting Donnie, but—“ Kris briefly explained that Iris was no where in sight, and the only thing of her’s she managed to find was an intimate clothing item. She didn’t get to finish her sentence as Donnie’s echoing moan cut her off. Kristina’s face heated and she smiled at Alba rather sheepishly. Who had a tiny flush to her own cheeks at the realization. “Well.. I think I found her..” Kristina caught Leo’s smirk and huffed in amusement. She opened her mouth to say something when Raph cleared his throat from behind her, and she jumped at his sudden proximity. She still wasn’t used to his ninja skills. After all these years one would think she’d be able to see a giant mutant turtle coming her way. “I say we turn up the music—“ another moan cut him off and he winced. He gave Mikey a look and Mikey gave the DJ a signal and then everyone was partying as if they had never heard the sounds in the first place.

For the remainder of the night, Kristina tried to ignore what she had heard along with the intimate tension around Alba and Leo. More so the latter, who she noticed couldn’t keep his eyes off of his wife. He was practically salivating just at the sight of her. Kris made some sly comments about “watching out for drool” and “keeping his mouth closed so he wouldn’t catch flies”. Every time she passed him. He’d say something snarky in return, which she simply found amusing. Kris and Raph spent some time at the bar, but they made sure to drink responsibly. Opting to be the “sober” ones of the group, just so they can keep an eye on everyone. But having a drink or two wouldn’t hurt. Then Kristina did some karaoke. Was it good? Not at all! But Raphael cheered her on anyway! Exclaiming proudly to anyone who’d listen that she was his wife. They also spent a lot of time mingling and dancing. They were slow dancing together when they realized that people were starting to leave. Leo and Alba were no where in sight. And Kris couldn’t really feel her feet anymore so they decided to call it a night. They said their goodbyes and made their way to their own hotel room.

Raph offered to carry her, but Kris didn’t mind the walk. Insisting it’d be good for her. Kristina had taken her heels off and was walking barefoot down the hallway to their room. Swaying a bit in her tired and mildly tipsy state. Raph was carrying her shoes in one hand, his other was wrapped tightly around her much smaller one. When they finally got into their hotel room, Kris wobbled to their bed and flopped face first into their mattress. Letting out a muffled sigh.

Raphael snickered at the scene and locked the door behind them, placing her shoes gently on the floor. “Can you believe that Leo and Alba are married?” He asked, unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it aside.

Kris rolled on her side so she could look at him, watching him undress with a tired smirk. “I can. They’ve been together for so long, and it’s about time we’re not the only married ones.” She yawned and forced herself to get up, “Can you unzip me?”

“Guess so—“ His eyes dropped to the small of her back, which was exposed to him due to a slit/hole in her black dress. Her dress that hugged all her curves perfectly. In all the right places. Kristina unpinned her hair, allowing it to fall and cascade down her back. She drew her hair over her shoulder, exposing the zipper. He caught a lovely waft of her soft perfume. Kristina saw the far off look in his eyes from over her shoulder and she snorted, clearing her throat to catch his attention. “Earth to Raphael?”

“Huh?”

“Get a little distracted there big guy? C’mon, unzip me!”

“Oh, right!” Raphael’s big hands fumbled with the tiny zipper. Face hot with all the lewd thoughts that managed to crawl into his mind. He managed to get it undone and Kris wasted no time slipping out of it. Exposing her bare breasts and cute little pink panties. She also had a lovely bunch of fading hickeys all over from a few nights ago. Cleverly placed so no one would spot them. Raph didn’t even bother hiding his stare as she sat on the edge of the bed and brushed her hair. Kris caught his eye and snickered. “Now look who’s drooling~” She cooed, getting up and making her way to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

His hand caught her wrist and she was pulled against him. Chest pressed against his plastron. His mouth placed on top of her’s feverishly. Kris’ eyes widened but she took no hesitance in kissing him back. She giggled lightly at him and pulled away a tiny bit. “We can’t—“

Raph smirked against her lips in return, “Why not?”

“We’re supposed to be the responsible one’s, remember?” She placed a hand on his plastron and pushed him away, matching his smirk with one of her own. Raph sighed exasperatedly. “How am I supposed to be responsible when you’re teasing me like that?” He gestured to what she was wearing and Kris rolled her eyes. “I’m your wife. You can have me anytime you want me. Just not tonight.” She wagged her finger at him and grabbed an over sized shirt, pulling it over her head. “Better?”

Raph dragged his gaze up and down her and she snorted, waving him off and walking into the bathroom. “You’re hopeless.”

“Not my fault I have a sexy wife.” He sauntered after her, grabbing his own toothbrush and getting ready for bed. “Not even a little fondling? A heavy make out? Waist above stuff?”

Kristina looked at him in the mirror, her expression was answer enough. She finished brushing her teeth, ignoring her husbands grumblings and began to wash her face. “Can we cuddle at least?” She laughed at that. “Of course we can cuddle.”

“Ah good. I was beginning to think I wouldn’t be able to touch you at all.”

“Stop being a baby. It’s one night! We need to set a good example.” She left the room and once again, he followed her. Kristina began to fluff up her pillows and draw the blanket back, eagerly sliding underneath.

“We do set a good example. A healthy sex life is a good example.” He did the same, taking his mask off and setting it on the bedside table before crawling into bed. And on top of her. With his arms on either side of her head, he hovered above her. Lips inches away from her own. “From what we heard earlier, the walls are super thin here. The last thing we need is everyone knowing that besides your two younger brother’s, who are most definitely getting some, we did too. Besides… I’m tired..” Raphael laughed softly and placed a few loving kisses to her face. All which she happily accepted.

“If you were too tired, you could’ve just said so. No need to make up all this responsible bull—“

“We are the responsible ones!”

“Even still~” He brushed her hair away from her face, starring down at her with all the adoration in the world. Kristina felt like she was falling in love with him all over again. “I have work tomorrow-“

“I know.”

“And we’re still celebrating with the family later-“

“I’m aware.”

“Plus I promised a friend we’d babysit-“

“I was there.”

“I’m running on 48 hours without sleep-“

“I told you to go to bed, but you wouldn’t listen.”

“I had to study!”

Raph’s lips twitched up in a crooked smile, “I’m just teasing you, baby. We can fondle each other another time. Get your rest.” He pressed a firm kiss to her lips and she melted. “Are you sure? Because if you really want to—“

Raphael hummed, “I’m sure.” He lay on his back and Kris crawled on top of him. Nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck with a content sigh. “I love you.”

He placed a hand on her back and rubbed calm soothing circles, knowing it helped her fall asleep. “I love you too.”

Kris yawned, “Do you really?”

“Forever and always.” He whispered, churring quietly.

—

The next morning, Kristina sat next to Raphael at the breakfast table. Hair tossed up in a messy bun, bags under her eyes, but looking gorgeous nonetheless. And of course, both Donnie and Iris plus Leo and Alba were missing. Ro and Mikey sat across from them, enjoying merry conversation and delicious food. Kris cradled her coffee mug like it was the most special thing in the entire world. Raph rubbed a hand up and down her thigh softly, a joyful smile on his face as he talked to Mike about something.

And finally after what felt like forever, Leo finally joined them. Alba no where in sight. Raphael greeted his brother normally, but Kris, forever curious and suspicious rose an eyebrow at the sight of the newlywed without his wife. So of course she asked him where she was. When Leo responded with “she’s resting” Kristina immediately scoffed. A knowing look on her face as she sipped the delightful beverage in hand. Leo’s smirk only widened at her expression and Raph grew ever confused. But before he could even ask the two about it, Iris and Donnie finally showed up. The entire table practically starting giggling and whispering to one another like a couple of school girls.

“You guy’s sounded like you had fun~”

“Kristina!” Raph hissed, not wanting to replay what happened last night. Face bright from second hand embarrassment though he too couldn’t stop his grin from growing.

“What? I’m just saying, I didn’t know Donnie could make such high pitched noises—“

Poor Donnie and Iris looked like they were about to faint. Raph tried to reassure them that it wasn’t as bad as it sounded. Splinter was passing a couple bets around with the rest of the table. Ro munched on her food happily, just enjoying the general splendour. Mikey cooed and made kissing noises. Kristina ushered Leo away, saying he needed to provide good aftercare for her sister-in-law. Then she looked and Iris and said, “You’re next.” Referring to the fact that the next sister-in-law, was going to be her. Even if Kris already considered both Iris and Ro as her sisters.

Kristina winked slyly before turning her gaze onto Raphael. “Told you they’d fuck.” And his juice shot out of his nose.

#tmnt #rottmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #fanfic #imagine #tmnt oc #tmnt leo #tmnt raph #tmnt donnie #tmnt Mikey #tmnt ocs #rottmnt ocs #rottmnt oc #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2018 #rottmnt raph #rottmnt leo #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt donnie #iris lore #fluffytriceratops #kristina lennox #digitl art monstr #rheawritesforfun #alba x leo #ro x mikey #iris x donnie #kris x raph

[weavesouls]

I. AFFILIATION

This is an Independent Canon divergent Isolde rp blog. I have no ties with Riot Games, nor do I claim ownership of the character or game. I simply role play the character I have grown to love and adore for so long. The only things I own on this blog are art I may or may not post unless stated otherwise.

This is my take on Isolde, pretty canon divergent. Keep in mind, she can be sweet and kind, or over dramatic and mean to your muse. I do not condone her acts. Do not confuse mun with muse. If she is not your cup of tea the unfollow button is at the top.

By default my Isolde is ressurected, but if you want her before ‘death’ please specify!

II. BASIC RULES

(Just read these for the short version of my rules!)

✰ NO GODMODDING! That one is pretty self explanatory and obvious. Just don’t do it. It isn’t fun for anyone. ✰ Multiple threads with one person are welcomed. ✰ Tag your content, as i tag mine! ✰ Don’t send hate/anon hate. You’re just wasting your own time and i simply just ignore and block anyways. ✰ Racist, sexist, Transphobic & homphobic muns are NOT welcome here. ✰ Please cut your posts! ✰ Yes, I interact with OCS but I will not follow everyone. I only follow the ones I interact with. I do not like Gary Stu, Mary Stu, Cat girl anime types and Forced ship/Forced child ocs! ✰ Do not take advantage of my kindness and non selectivity. ✰ I AM NOT YOUR MEME SOURCE! please reblog from the source. ✰ I have dyslexia and sometimes trouble reading and understanding and this may come out in my role playing. I try to catch my mistakes before I complete a response but I’m not perfect. ✰ THIS BLOG IS 18+ meaning no minors. Sorry but I am an adult and at times I do rp and reblog adult content.

III. REPLIES

Replies can take a long time as Tumblr is not my main focus. A nudge or poke about our rp is a-ok! I’m so scatterbrained. However, nagging will earn you a block if my warning is ignored.

I usually try to respond to my threads equally, but if I am enjoying a role play thread a lot more I may prioritize it. Do not come at me complaining, I will get to your response when I get time.

Remember, Role Play is a hobby.

IV. INTERACTIONS

I am non-selective, this means I interact with anyone and everyone this includes Ocs, & other fandoms. However if your oc has no bio or is just a “big tiddy anime cat girl” I may not interact.

THE FANDOMS I REFUSE TO INTERACT WITH AND BLOCK ARE; MHA, HOMESTUCK, KILLING STALKING, YBC, MCYT, & DANGANRONPA. Respect this or leave, experience with those rpcs have made me very uncomfortable. If you like it that is okay, just keep it away from me :)

V. SHIPPING

At the moment i am only interested in romantically shipping Isolde with Viego of course, I have thought about being exclusive with one if i one wants to in the future.. but feel free to shoot me an idea! I might like it, I’m a complete shipping whore.

When shipping if you have a preference, please specify if you prefer her more hostile side or more sweet. 

VI. VERSES

WIP

VII. TAGS

For aesthetic reasons in my tags of posts I have tags special text. More tags can be added any time!

i tag my nsfw with nsfw and sinday, but if you want you can also block my special nsfw tag which is;   ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪꜱᴛ. ( nsfw )

VIII. NSFW

NSFW will be present, both mun and muse are legal adults. This can include sexual themes, gore and violence which all will be appropriately tagged. Any smut I might write will be under a read more. She will not just jump into sex with you, that’s where ship chemistry comes into play. I will NOT engage in any sexual stuff with muns & muses -18.

Other nsfw regarding violence, Isolde can and will hurt you if you provoke her. You have been warned. More in depth violence can be role played upon request, tagged appropriately. I will not control or kill off your muse without permission. I ask you do the same.

[where-theres-smoak-2]

Here's the kind of stuff I come across and get me down:

" #who am i kidding #even if we get a little bit of corruption arc it will all be merzost's fault #and they will find some magical medicine to cure her #maybe by Mal's true love kiss 🙄 #the war was completely erased as well #and alina will cure racism simply by being a flashlight and changing fashion #and there is no way i hell that those writers are bringing darkling back #and i would actually be surprised if ben wanted to stick around for season three #he's finally free of this monstrosity of a project #and netflix is finally rid off the character they hated the most #and since it was a character that fans loved most #i predict that sab is dead #they just don't know it yet #also persecution is almost no exist in the show so it's not like Alina will have to watch Grisha enslavment"

I really don't see why the Darkling wouldn't come back in the sequel, since they're adapting books where he's present. I don't see why Ben Barnes would refuse either. As for that "netfliix hates the Darkling" rant? I don't understand this kind of thinking. Yes SAB is not the best series in the world with flaws, but there is a limit to exaggeration anyway.

I mean they are almost certainly bringing back Aleks in season 3, they dropped too many hints not to, the whole make sure there's nothing left of me but there still being his hand thing, the fact that we saw someone being brought back with merzost showing that is something that can happen. The bee showing up during Aleks' funeral, which King of Scars spoilers but is a hint at Elizaveta who resurrects the darkling in the books. If they wanted to only reference the character and not the resurrection plotline then they could have had that bee show up at some other time, like the coronation scene or when Zoya, Alina and Genya are in the room getting ready for the coronation, but they specifically chose Alek's funeral which to me is a very clear hint that they are bringing him back.

As for netflix hating the character I don't think that's true because they have gone to alot of effort to make Aleks a much more nuanced and developed character than he was in the books, you don't put that kind of effort into making a character that is as sympathetic and nuanced as show Aleks if you hate them. I do think that the actors and producers etc are overly careful about talking too sympathetically about Aleks, but that, I think, is because of all the loud purists who yell ab*se apologists at them if they do, not because they hate the character. Ben also hasn't given any indication that he wants to leave the show, it seems that he is very interested in his character and he clearly has a good bond with all the cast so I don't think we have anything to worry about there.

It's understandable that the negative comments are getting you down, I'll admit there have been times this week I have avoided going into the darklina and character tags because of the negativity, when going into the tags I like to see pretty gif sets, fanfics and people excited about the ship/character not negativity as of course that is going to bring your mood down. But at the same time everyone is entitled to their own opinion and have the right to express it so my best advice would be try to ignore it and not engage. If you start reading a post and it looks like its going to be negative then stop reading and just scroll past it, its what I've been doing, or if it is really bringing you down and you feel the need to, block those accounts. Also if you are feeling negatively about darklina and Aleks or Alina's characterization this season maybe consider using an anti tag or putting a warning at the top of the post to make it easier for those who want to avoid negativity. That's the best way around it I can think of anyway.

#darklina #aleksander morozova #the darkling #s&b season 2 spoilers #king of scars spoilers #answered

[medimuses]

RULES & GUIDELINES

I. AFFILIATION

This is an Independent Canon divergent multimuse rp blog. I have no ties with the animes/games i rp from, nor do I claim ownership of the characters. I simply role play the characters I have grown to love and adore for so long. The only things I own on this blog are my ocs, art I may or may not post unless stated otherwise.

This is my take on my characters. Keep in mind, They can be mean to your muse. I do not condone their acts. Do not confuse mun with muse. If you do not like a muse or fandom i rp from but still wanna rp from feel free to blacklist that specific muse tag!

II. BASIC RULES

(Just read these for the short version of my rules!)

NO GODMODDING! That one is pretty self explanatory and obvious. Just don’t do it. It isn’t fun for anyone.

Multiple threads with one person are welcomed.

Tag your content, as i tag mine!

Don’t send hate/anon hate. You’re just wasting your own time and i simply just ignore and block anyways.

Racist, sexist, Transphobic & homophobic muns are NOT welcome here. 

Please cut your posts !

Yes, I interact with OCS but I will not follow everyone. Be sure to have a bio! I do not like Gary Stu, Mary Stu, Cat girl anime types and Forced ship/Forced child ocs!

Do not take advantage of my kindness and non selectivity.

I AM NOT YOUR MEME SOURCE! please reblog from the source.

I have dyslexia and sometimes trouble reading and understanding and this may come out in my role playing. I try to catch my mistakes before I complete a response but I’m not perfect.

THIS BLOG IS 18+ meaning no minors. Sorry but I am an adult and at times I do rp and reblog adult content.

III. REPLIES

Replies can take a long time as Tumblr is not my main focus. A nudge or poke about our rp is a-ok! I’m so scatterbrained. However, nagging will earn you a block if my warning is ignored.

I usually try to respond to my threads equally, but if I am enjoying a role play thread a lot more I may prioritize it. Do not come at me complaining, I will get to your response when I get time.

Remember, Role Play is a hobby.

IV. INTERACTIONS

I am non-selective, this means I interact with anyone and everyone this includes Ocs, & other fandoms. However if your oc has no bio or is just a “big tiddy anime cat girl” I may not interact.

THE FANDOMS I REFUSE TO INTERACT WITH AND BLOCK ARE; MHA, HOMESTUCK, KILLING STALKING, YBC, MCYT, & DANGANRONPA.

Respect this or leave, experience with those rpcs have made me very uncomfortable. If you like it that is okay, just keep it away from me :)

V. SHIPPING

I’m a complete shipping whore! Feel free to hit up my muses I ship pretty much anything, unless its in proship territory! I love the idea of crack and new ships too. The only things I won’t ship with them are underage muses. Gross.

DO NOT FOLLOW/INTERACT WITH ME IF YOU SHIP  THINGS LIKE INCEST SHIPS. I cannot stress this enough. I have a zero tolerance policy for it.  I don’t want those nasty ‘ships’ anywhere near me. I will not argue with you about this. I will simply block you. <3

VI. VERSES

WIP

VII. TAGS

For aesthetic reasons I have special tags from quotes or songs with special text. More tags can be added any time!

I tag my nsfw with nsfw and sinday, but if you want you can also block my special nsfw tag which is ♰ ℭ𝔩𝔬𝔰𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔠𝔬𝔣𝔣𝔦𝔫. ( nsfw )

VIII. NSFW

NSFW can be present, this can include sexual themes, gore and violence which all will be appropriately tagged. Any smut I might write will be under a read more. They will not just jump into sex with you, that’s where ship chemistry comes into play. I will NOT engage in any sexual stuff with muns & muses -18. 

Other nsfw regarding violence; my muses can and will hurt you if you provoke them. You have been warned. More in depth violence can be role played upon request, tagged appropriately. I will not control or kill off your muse without permission. I ask you do the same.