#I actually had fun writing this

[reji-z]

Alright, finally I was able to write something after a long time of a writers block, also this is the first time I upload my stuff to tumblr so yeagh.

For a little of context this is in the spirit's eve of the second year.

It's also up on Ao3 here

First night

The meet-up at the saloon after the spirit’s eve festival is your favorite part of the holiday, everyone is in a good mood, belly full of Gus’s food and some are even slightly drunk already, some as in Shane and you.

You started getting closer to him this past month mostly because of your regular stops at Marnie’s ranch regarding your animals, although it’s hard to say if at some point they were more for catching up with Shane than anything else.

In the beginning it was just about the chickens and whatnot, but eventually you started to talk more, about other stuff, hanging out once or twice and just getting to know each other, and the more you knew him there was this weird feeling about him swelling up deep inside you, a feeling you were trying to hold back as much as you could.

But none of that matters right now, you are sitting next to him at the bar with a couple of empty glasses between you, in silence, just enjoying each other's company.

“So… today was fun, spending it with you, I mean” You break the silence, looking at your finger as you trace it on the rim of your empty glass and rest your head on your free hand “I … kinda have to go now, it’s getting late and i have to get up early tomorrow you know”

Shane turns his head at you way too fast, almost as if your words activated a directive on him “Can I go with you” As soon as the words leave his mouth he realizes what he just said and turns his head away, looking in front of him, at the shelves filled with bottles “I-I mean, if you want to… ”

Was the blush on his cheeks from embarrassment of asking if he could walk with you or just because the saloon was warm from all the people in it, probably the second one, right?

“Uuhhhh… Yeah, why not” you try to not make it obvious that the idea of walking with him late at night excites you, but it feels like your tone betrays you, and if he was more sober, he probably would have noticed.

It takes a while of sitting in silence before any of you finally gets up to actually get out of the establishment, he did first, and you followed him behind only standing by his side once you were both outside.

“So, your place first?, since it’s closer” You ask while turning your head to look at him.

“Sure” He turns to look at you too, and you can’t help but to stare at him, those weirdly charming green eyes draw you in, sitting above eye bags that seem to be permanently glued to him and below some of the prettiest eyebrows you’ve ever seen, and the way the light of the saloon windows lights up his whole face is close to divine, of course he noticed you were staring, and lifted his right eyebrow curiously, breaking you out of your trance and making you whip your head away, feeling your cheeks warm up as soon as he lets out a chuckle “Let’s go”

It was nice, really nice, not only because of the pleasing night breeze, nor the euphoria of the alcohol, but also because of him, walking by your side, it just made you feel happy, somehow, for some reason, a reason that honestly you didn’t want to get into right now.

It… was a short walk, way shorter than you expected, or wanted, now both of you under the ranch’s doorway, lingering, looking at each other, hoping to make these few seconds last an eternity, hoping to burn them in your mind to be able to recall them late at night, hugging a pillow on your bed that felt a little bit too big and too lonely for just one person.

At least that was your reason to stay there, leaving you wondering about why he was still there, why isn’t he turning the doorknob and entering his home to call it a night, why is he also looking at you, into your eyes, maybe he is also—no, that’s a dumb idea, he’s not into you like that, you guys are just friends and—

“Uuhhmm…. do you want to hang out a while more?” What? “I mean, if it’s not too late for you” What? “We can go to the pond right here or something” WHAT? Why is he asking to spend more time with you, and why does he sound nervous, and is he blushing? “Actually never mind, forget I said anything” shit, you are taking too long to answer and he’s backing up, it’s now or never.

“NonoIwanttodothat” shit, too eager.

He smiles, he doesn’t do that a lot, especially if it’s for other people, his smile gets bigger, you feel your heart skip a beat.

“Sooooo, to the pond it is” he says while still keeping eye contact.

“Actually I know a place” Do you?... Oh yeah you do “It’s this small part of the forest with a pond that’s hidden away, it’s pretty nice” 

“Really? That sounds perfect, lead the way” another smile, you can feel your insides stirring around from the mere fact of him smiling because of you, wait, perfect? Why would he say that? No time to think about that though, he said yes, and soon enough you were walking to the secret woods, trying to not make too much noise, as if worrying about the critters noticing you.

Once you reached the path leading to the pond (and certain primate statue that you forgot to tell Shane about) you heard him gasp.

“Wow… I’m surprised I didn’t know about this place” He says while looking around.

“Nah, not really, it used to be blocked by this huge log of hardwood”

“And you cleared the path yourself?” 

“Y–yeah” for some reason it’s kinda embarrassing to admit that, you don’t really know why

“Heh, you must be pretty strong then” huh? Is he… flirting? Probably not, ignore it.

It didn’t really matter that you didn’t answer, you were already standing in the entryway to the clearing, not really being able to see much in the dark.

“Wait here” you said before walking towards the torches you’ve left around the pond to light them up and returning to his side “So? What do you think”

The torches themselves reflected on the clear waters of the pond, the images flickering from time to time thanks to the movement of the fishes below, their light shining into it and making a faint glow all along the shore, and in turn, reflecting into Shane’s eyes, making their color shine brightly, pairing well with the greenery around you.

He turns around to look at you, his eyes still glistening, open more than usual “It’s really pretty” your heart skips a beat once again, you feel your cheeks start to burn up, he’s got to be flirting, right?

“I-I know right” you start walking towards the east side of the pond, hoping he didn’t notice your reaction “Come, let’s sit”

He followed behind you and placed himself to your left, as you lowered to start untying your shoes you hear him let out a scream and jump in place.

“FUCK! What IS that!” he points to your right, into the dark, and you don’t even have to look to know what he saw to start laughing at him, making him turn his head to you with a puzzled face “Why are you laughing?”

“Sorry…” It’s hard to stop the giggles to form a sentence “…It’s just an old statue of a monkey, i forgot to tell you about it”

He drops his arm and relaxes, lowering to untie his own shoes “God, it scared the shit out of me”

Now both of you had your feet inside the pond, swaying them back and forth, sitting next to each other, your hands so close together yet not touching, keeping just enough distance to not make things too awkward.

“So, what’s that statue doing here?” He asks while looking at the woodskips swim circles in the middle of the pond.

“No idea, it has a plate saying something about a search for something sweet” now you are looking in the direction of the statue, just barely being able to make out its shape, no wonder he got scared, it really looks like a monster from here.

“Huh” It’s all he says back, now both of you fall silent again, still the nice kind of silence, the one where the mere fact of you sharing this moment encompass any words anyone might be able to muster, the kind of silence you didn’t realize you were yearning for, the kind of silence that feels just right. “You know…” he breaks it, making you turn your head to him “… It used to be boring around here…” now he’s looking at you “…but you managed to change that”

“Y-yeah, well, I kinda need a change from my old life and…” now his fingertips are touching yours “…t-the whole farm in a small town seemed like that change”

His fingers are getting closer and closer to yours, getting on top of them, moving around playfully and so are yours, sort of intertwining them in a dance without rhythm, it feels nice.

Once again you find yourself staring at his eyes, and by god they looked even better now, you feel like you could just stare at them all day, stare at him all day, his eyes, his eyebrows, his hair, his nose, his cheeks, his… lips, at this point it was pretty much clear that you liked him, there’s no point in trying to shove down those feelings anymore, at least not now, not when his hand is on top of yours, his eyes fixated into yours, his whole body turning to face you as his left hand raised to hold your cheek.

Wait, you quickly glance at his hand with your eyes and then back at him, he’s still looking at you, and gives you a little smile, what is going on, weren’t you supposed to just hang out, what happened, when did this happened, how did it happened, does he really like you as well? If he didn’t then why would he be—

Your train of thought ends the instant his lips meet yours, you didn’t even notice him getting closer, fuck it, it feels nice, you close your eyes to properly enjoy it, his lips are soft, more than you’d expect from someone that is always drinking at least, they are also warm, sharing their heat with you, spreading it trough your whole body and converging in your chest, warming up a body you didn’t even notice was cold.

It really couldn’t get better than this right?, the guy you like kissing you in a secluded spot in the forest away from prying eyes and only both of you to bear witness to a thousand years old demonstration of one’s affection for someone else, wrong, it could get better, and it did when you felt his tongue poking at your lips, asking for permission to explore further, to feel more of you, and who are you to deny such kind request.

His tongue was slow, careful, maybe he was nervous, how couldn’t he, he’s been making all the moves since the beginning and you just can’t have that now, can you? So you took the lead this time, pushing your tongue into his to make it retreat into his own mouth to let you move around, faster, more aggressive, more needy, as if you’ve been craving for this since the very first time you arrived in town, which you may or may not have.

Your tongues were not the only thing moving around, you feel his right hand move from on top of yours to land at your knee, slowly moving up, gripping your leg at times, making you get more into the kiss, but this feels a little bit too much, too far, especially when he reaches your thigh and gets dangerously close to your crotch, a feeling that makes you break the kiss abruptly and lean back, both of your eyes opening as soon as the contact breaks, and what you see is Shane with a worried expression in his face, an expression that makes your heart sink, you hate that look on him and you hate even more that it’s because of you.

“I–I…” you finally open your mouth to say something “…sorry, It’s just–too much”

“Shit, sorry…” he looks so guilty “…of course I would go and ruin things right? God I’m so stupid”

“Nonono, It’s…” the words seem to be harder to come up with now, the whole build up of the feelings and alcohol catching up with you “…I like it, but not right now, not here” it kills you to say no but you really don’t want that “It’s fine, really”

You move closer to him, making him look in front of him once again so you can lean on him, your head falling slightly on top of his, trying to really show him that it’s okay and you are not mad.

He sighs, leaning more into you and, once again, sharing each other's heat, your bodies taking part of this give and take of energy.

“I guess we feel the same way then” you whisper, not looking at him.

He chuckles “I hope so, it would be really awkward if we didn’t” his comment making you chuckle too, this guy, you swear to god, but that managed to ease the mood, now both of you reveling in the comfort of knowing that your feelings were reciprocated.

But alas, no matter how sweet new love may be, it is still not sweet enough for a certain someone in a quest that didn’t seem to be any closer to end.

#reji writes #Shane sdv #i actually had fun writing this #wrote most of it between yesterday and today after having like one page of it laying around for at least since december #also if shane is out of character no hes not i just get him better than you /j #if there are grammar errors or such im gonna use the good old english isnt my first language to not worry about them #i did proofread it tho #also i dont really know if i actually did but i kinda try to make the farmers gender as ambiguous as possible #idk why i just like doing that ig #maybe to make it easier for the reader to immerse themselves or something #whatever #sdv shane #shane stardew valley #stardew shane #stardew valley shane #thats gotta be enough shane tags right?

[dinsverdika]

Quick Learner (blurb)

Ship: Tech/Reader

Tags (as posted on AO3): kissing, inexperienced Tech, there's not much more to it tbh, reader is AFAB but no gendered terms are used.

Word count: 559

The kiss had been quick, you did not even have the time to process it as it was already over. You blinked your eyes open, a shy-looking Tech was staring at you.

“How was it?” he asked tentatively.

“Well,” you started, “it was a quick kiss. I don’t think that could be considered a peck even, you’ve barely brushed your lips against mine.”

His eyebrows were drawn together as he registered what you had just said. He hummed and picked up his holopad, “maybe I should make some research on different kissing techniques, it’ll-”

“Tech,” you cut him off, placing a hand flat on the item in his hand. “Kissing is something that you practice, not theorise.”

“Look,” you spoke again. You scooted closer to him, putting your hands on his shoulders to ground him. “Try to make the kiss last a few seconds longer, make it a lingering kiss.”

“Was my first kiss not great?” he asked.

“I would not say it was bad, barely touching your lips with someone else’s is great when you want to be a tease,” you explained. “But this is not where we’re at right now.”

You stayed quiet as you tried to formulate a step by step list on how to kiss someone.

“Try to capture my bottom lip between yours but do not release it too quickly. Try to bask in the sensations that you are experiencing.”

“Okay,” he replied. You smiled reassuringly at him and closed your eyes.

Tech did as you told: he captured your bottom lip with his lips. The kiss felt hesitant at first, you could feel the nervousness through it. You thought wrapping your arms around his neck would ease his nerves. Your assumption was correct as you felt his body relax under your touch. Tech reciprocated the gesture by resting his hands on your hips. You were about to kiss him back when he pulled away, releasing your lip with a soft pop.

“How was this?” he asked, his eyes sinking into yours.

“Way better,” you smiled at him. “See how easy it is? Kissing is more based on feelings and instinct rather than theories and rules.”

“It felt really nice as well,” he added. “There was this buzzing feeling inside me and my heartbeat quickened.”

You hummed and nodded, “that’s supposed to happen. Would you mind if I kiss you now?”

Tech shook his head, “I would actually love it.”

A grin stretched your features and you closed the gap between you, sealing your lips with his in a gentle kiss. The butterflies in your stomach sprung free, sending a tingly sensation all over your body. Tech hummed contently as he curled his arms around your waist, pressing your bodies together. Surprise overtook you when Tech delicately licked your bottom lip. You parted your lips slightly, granting him access to your mouth. The kiss deepened as you tasted and explored each other’s mouths.

Tech was the one to break off the kiss first. His lips were swollen and his chest was heaving faintly as he asked, “was this better?”

“Tech, are you kidding?” you huffed. “This was amazing, you’re a quick learner.”

“My enhanced abilities allow me to learn faster than the average clone,” he retorted matter-of-factly.

A chuckle escaped your lips, “I’m not going to thank the Kaminoans for you kissing skills, Tech.”

#tech x reader #tbb tech #the bad batch #blurb #writing practice #i actually had fun writing this #might write more Tech stuff in the future #i feel like tumblr is friendlier towars blurbs than longer one shots #so might as well post my other blurbs on AO3 on here too #i also know tech being inexperienced is an overused trope but i could not help it for a kissing scene writing practice #anyways i should stop rambling #my writing

[vacantgodling]

ngl i get that people hype up hating writing for the bit but like. idk. yall i Do actually really like writing. it is so satisfying and fun and rewarding and i get to look back what i made over and over again and get joy every single time.

yes writing is hard but if you hate it more than you love it im kinda like. idk. find another hobby?

#also the planning parts and the daydreaming is part of the process so idk #yall it is getting exhausting seeing all the quirky see how little i’m writing shit #like what if for once i am writing and im having a grand time!! #what if not being able to write isn’t a fun joke it is honestly detrimental to my brain!!! #what if writing has been my friend when i never had any and it is the love of my life and love language and i love actually doing it perhap #talking #ren hot cakes

[criticalrolo]

I had a post a while ago about making sure your dnd character WANTS to be an adventurer a while ago, something else I’ve been thinking about is the importance of making a dnd character that WANTS to be in a group and have some sort of relationship with other PCs. the Group Nature of ttrpgs means lone wolves just aren’t feasible. if you really want to play a lone wolf or antisocial character at the beginning then I highly recommend telling your dm and the others players that you plan on forming bonds along the way and growing out of that mindset. otherwise why are you playing dnd, a group activity that involves cooperation and building relationships? Just Write A Book if you don’t wanna be in a group

#the advice Just Write A Book goes out to DMs a lot but it also applies to PCs I think #I’ve had character ideas that I’ve moved from PC to Book Character for this reason!! #I do like lone wolves who don’t trust others but they’re way more fun to read about than actually play #pls cooperate with the other players and be friends at the table lol #dnd

[fantasykiri5]

I’m a little sick of how Lizzie’s death is just being made about Jimmy and the canary curse now so.

How about writing about how it was a freak accident. How much more tragic it was that it was in fact an accident.

She wasn’t expecting it. Nobody else was expecting it. Half the server laughed. Some of them died not 10 minutes later. I’d like to think she got to laugh at them in whatever afterlife they’re stuck in till the end. Or cuss them out a bit. Or both.

She didn’t have any allies. A couple shaky truces, but no real allies. She didn’t get to take revenge on Scar (for the many, many, times he wronged her.) or anyone else really.

She died without turning in her second red task. She’d completed it. She wanted to take out Scott before she turned it in. She died.

Scott was this close to falling off the ledge after her first couple hits. His feet were practically off the edge. If you think hard enough about it you can see the pebbles and dust crumble away as he dances the edge of the cliff, just pixels away from her completing what she set out to do. Something she set out to do largely for fun. It wasn’t in her task to hurt Scott. Scott brought gifts to her party after showing up late, he wronged her but there were many who wronged her tenfold. She was going to kill Scott because her husband asked, and she’d just hit him over the head with rocks so she might as well. She kept doing it for fun. She was red. She might as well. Maybe everyone who didn’t come to her party would fear her a little then.

Maybe you should write about how Lizzie lived in a pumpkin house, had a whole pumpkin patch, was one of the two people who found the pumpkins first with gem, and all it would have taken for her to not die there would have been to wear one?

Maybe you should write about how if she’d looked just a fraction to the left or right she wouldn’t have looked at the enderman? How if she had reacted with the enderpearl a few seconds earlier she could have made it back up? How she only thought to throw it because she started taking damage as she sunk into the bottom of the void? How the only reason she didn’t was because she wasn’t expecting it?

Maybe you should write about how she wasn’t expecting it.

Lizzie wasn’t expecting it.

#kiri rambles #my writing #<- it’s an actual written piece but it’s supposed to look like just a regular text post so ✌️ we ball #secret life #life series #life series smp #ldshadowlady #lizzie ldshadowlady #only tagging her because it’s about her but a couple others are mentioned #fanfic #<- technically? it’s a little weird I had fun with it

[starry-bi-sky]

Stuck in the middle of a forest made of

Flesh and bones and they're all scared of

A lost little boy who has lost his heart

Fear's not enough, they have to

Tear him apart —-------

There are two things Daniel Fenton knows that his family knows as well: 

He’s adopted.

He can’t remember anything else before that.  

‘Adoption’ is a loose term, implying that they went through the official legal processes and troubles of adopting a child into their home willingly, and with the full intention of doing so going into it. That is not what happened. What happened is that Jasmine Fenton found a half-dead child, in strange clothing, in the middle of the woods at her Aunt Alicia’s cabin, and then she went and got her parents. 

What happened is that a twelve year old Danny woke up in the same cabin, wearing clothes much too big on him that didn’t belong to him, and with very little memory of before that moment. He wakes up like a spring being set loose, sitting up so fast he scares the daylights out of Jasmine Fenton sitting next to him. He wakes up, reaching for his sleeve for something that isn’t there, and when it isn’t his mind stutters, like he’s tripped at the top of a steep hill. 

When they ask him for his name, he tells them, clearing muddled thoughts from his mind; Danny. He’s twelve.

(He thinks that’s his name, at least. It sounds right; it feels right. If he thinks really hard about it, he thinks he can remember someone calling him that, utter adoration in their voice. So it must be his name.) 

The Jasmine girl convinces her parents to take him home with them, and they give him the spare guest room upstairs. He has nothing to fill it with.

It’s… a strange experience, to go to a ‘new’ home when he doesn’t even remember his old one. 

The official adoption process… happens. He can’t say it’s easy, or difficult. He’s oblivious for the most of it, Jasmine intends on helping him settle in and Danny can’t say he enjoys the smothering. He learns that he is stubbornly self-independent, that’s one new thing he knows about himself. 

His adoption papers say ‘Daniel J. Fenton’. Danny remembers staring at the name ‘Daniel’ for a long, long moment, something curdling sour in his sternum. His name is Danny, that he knows. But it’s not Daniel. But he doesn’t know any other way of saying it, so he keeps his complaints to himself.

(Jack Fenton boisterously claps his hand on Danny’s shoulder and jerks him around, grinning wide as he welcomes him into the Fenton Family. Danny’s mind blanches at the touch on his shoulder, an instinct snapping like the maw of a snake, telling him to cut off the man’s fingers for daring to touch him.) 

(He keeps the thought to himself, tension rising up his shoulders the longer Jack Fenton’s heavy hand stays on him.) 

They found Danny in the summer. It’s a perfect coincidence, Maddie Fenton says before she goes back into her lab with Jack Fenton. She says it’s enough time to allow Danny to adjust; that they’ll enroll him into the school year in the fall. Then she stuffs a canister of ectoplasm onto the top shelf, and disappears like the ghosts she studies back down the stairs.  

(There’s something eerily familiar about the ectoplasm sitting in the fridge, something unsettlingly so. Danny knows what that stuff is, but he doesn’t know where. When the house is empty, he takes a can from the fridge and inspects it.)

Jazz wants him to leave the house. Danny doesn’t want to step foot outside of the FentonWorks building until he has something that quells the feeling of vulnerability he gets whenever he does. He tried to once, and he felt exposed. Unsafe. 

He turned back around and went inside.

—-------

Where do we go

When the river's running slow

Where do we run

When the cats kill one by one

—------

One day, when the house is empty — or, as empty as it can be; the Fenton parents down in the lab, and jazz out with friends. Danny is making a sandwich, and he caves into the urge to flip the knife in his hands between his fingers. A childish impulse, but one he falls for nonetheless. It comes to him easily, like second nature, in fact. The slip of the blade between his fingers is seamless, flowing with an ease like water running down the wall.  

He’s almost startled by it; his body holds memories that his mind does not. Muscles that know which way to move and twist, limbs that know how to hold and how to throw. He continues twirling it, fascinated, as if he were a scientist discovering a new species of animal. 

It’s not for a handful of minutes when a new thought hits him; an impulsive thought that pops in the back of his mind like a firecracker; Danny moves without thinking. 

He turns, and throws the knife. The pull of his shoulder, the flick of his elbow, is familiar like a hug. He knows when to let go, and the blade flies through the air in impressive speed, embedding itself into the wall with a hearty, loud thunk. Sinking into the drywall like butter. 

Danny stares at it in shock, he feels relieved — about what? — before he feels the guilt. He scrambles across the kitchen to pull it out, heart racing in his chest at being caught, and prays no one notices the hole it left behind. 

(He runs up the stairs before anyone can find him, food forgotten, and hides the knife beneath his mattress like a guilty murder weapon.)

After that, he leaves the house more. It’s more out of fear of being caught than the desire to leave. But Danny is quickly learning that among all things, he is someone who was dangerous, before he lost his memory. Even with his mind in fractures, he is still dangerous. 

He’s not sure how to feel about that — he thinks he should be scared. He feels a little proud, instead.

—------

Hazel beneath our claws

While we wait for cerulean to cry

Unsettled ticks run through time

Enough for the hunt to go awry

—-----

There’s another thing he learns about himself. That he knows about since he woke up. He knows that he left someone behind. He doesn’t know who, but he knows they must have been close; he’s always looking down and finding himself surprised when the only shadow he sees is his own. 

He thinks that he must have sung to them a lot; he finds himself humming familiar melodies when he’s lost in thought. Lullabies lingering at the tip of his tongue, an instinct to turn and sing them to someone beside him. He can’t remember the lyrics, but his mouth does, it tries to get him to say them when he’s not thinking. He can’t. 

Danny’s found himself humming under his breath more times than he can count, trying to recall whatever it is his mind is trying to claw forward. 

(“That’s a pretty song, Danny.” Jazz tells him at breakfast one day, Danny screws his mouth shut. He hadn’t realized he was humming. “What is it?”) 

(Something mean and possessive rears its head on instinct, uncoiling like a snake from its ball. His shoulders hunch defensively, he bites his cheek to prevent himself from baring his teeth. He doesn’t know what song it is, but it’s not for her. “I don’t know.”)  

He misses his person. Dearly. He knows, the longer he is without them, that they must have been close. Otherwise, he wouldn’t feel like he’s missing a chunk from himself. He wouldn’t be turning to someone who's not there; reaching for a hand that’s missing, birdsong on his tongue, a story to tell. 

A dream haunts him one night. Warm and familiar, he’s holding onto someone smaller than him, they’re tucked into his side like a puzzle piece. He’s humming one of his songs that is always playing in the back of his mind, an unfinished tale of a harpy and a hare. Danny can’t remember their face, not all of it. He remembers green eyes, hair dark like his own, skin brown like his. 

He loves them more than anything else in the world, a fact he knows down to his soul. He loves them so much it fills his heart with sunlight. Danny squeezes them tight, nuzzling into their hair; he makes them laugh. Then, he proudly boasts something. That when he takes something of their father’s, that his person — a sibling? That feels right — will be… the word fades from Danny’s mind before he can make sense of it. 

His person hugs him tight, his… brother? And their mother — a woman whose face he can’t remember either, but who he loves like a limb nonetheless — appears, smiling. Her hands reach for them both, voice calling them, ‘her sons’. There’s ticking in the distance, it sounds like the fastening of chains.

Danny wakes up cold, tears streaming down his face. The details of the dream already fading from his mind like the cold pull of a corpse.   

—-------

Harpy hare

Where have you buried all your children?

Tell me so I say

—-------

When school starts that Fall, Danny joins the sixth grade class, and quickly learns more things about himself. One of those things being that he’s smarter than the rest of his grade, whatever education he had before, it was better than the one he’s getting now. 

Everyone knows he’s adopted right off the bat. He tells them when the teacher forces himself to introduce himself, but it’s not like they needed him to tell them for them to know; he never existed in their little world before now, and the Fentons are pale as they come. Danny is not.

He befriends Sam Manson and Tucker Foley; they ask him about the scars fading up and down his arms, they ask him about the scar carved diagonal across his face.

Danny, as politely as he can, tells them he doesn’t remember. He thought kindness would come second nature to him, his dream burned into his mind where he hugged his brother so sweetly. Apparently, his sweetness is only second nature to people he considers his own. 

(It becomes even more apparent when Dash Baxter tries to bully him later that day, and Danny ruffles like an eagle threatened. His mind whispers, hissy and agitated, sinking like a shadow at his shoulder, several different ways Danny could kill him for talking to him like that, and fifteen more ways he could cripple him.)

(Danny ignores those thoughts, up until Dash Baxter tries to grab him. Then he breaks his nose on the wood of his desk. It’s easy how quickly the rest of his grade sinks him down to the status of social pariah.)

(At least Sam and Tucker still talk to him after that. When Danny goes to the principal’s office later, he wisely doesn’t mention the worse things he could’ve done than break Dash Baxter’s nose.)  

—--------------

It clicks and it clatters in corners and borders

And they will never

Hear me here listen to croons and a calling

I'll tell them all the

Story, the sun, and the swallow, her sorrow

Singing me the tale of the Harpy and the Hare

—-------

More dreams come, of course they do. Each one halfway to forgotten whenever he wakes up, ticking faint in his ears. He is many different ages. He is young, shorter than a table. He is older, holding onto his little brother. He is singing in almost every single one. He is singing to his brother. 

Danny can barely remember the lyrics, he’s begun leaving a journal by his bedside so that it’s the first thing he can write down when he wakes up. He’s a storyteller, he learns. He feels like a historian, trying to piece together a culture long dead and forgotten. 

His most vivid dream-like memory is not a happy one, and for once he’s almost relieved he barely recalls it. He is somewhere that isn’t home, but his mother and brother are there. He is dressed in black, blades keen in his hands. 

They are atop a moving train. They are fleeing something. His brother is struggling to keep up, he is small, and young. It’s beautifully sunny, they are somewhere green and lovely. 

It is a fast dream. 

His brother stumbles on something, and Danny, fast as a whip, snatches him by the back of his shirt and hoists him up to his feet before he can fall. “Watch your feet, habibi.” He murmurs low, a hand on his back. It’s hard to hear, there is wind in their ears.

His brother, face obscured in all but his eyes, which are green as emeralds, nods. 

The dream blurs, but Danny falls behind. His foot catches on air — impossible, it should’ve been, at least. He never trips. — and he lands against the roof with a thud and a grunt. His mother and brother stop, and turn for him. 

The train hits a turn before Danny can get up, and he shouldn’t have, something pulls on him, he swears, but he slips. He can’t find the purchase to pull himself up, cold fear hits him as his nails scrape against the metal. 

His mother and brother’s horrified faces are the last thing he sees before he disappears off the side of the train. 

(The ticking is at its loudest when he wakes up, pounding against his inner skull. He only manages to write down ‘train fall’ in his journal, before he’s flipping over to press his head into his pillow to get the pain to stop.) 

—---  

She can't keep them all safe

They will die and be afraid

Mother, tell me so I say

(Mother, tell me so I say)

—-------

When Danny is fourteen he is still humming songs he can’t remember, his mind still in a broken puzzle. But his room is now decorated with stars and plants in every corner. He has a guitar he keeps in the corner of his room, and he plays the lullabies in his head on the strings over and over again. 

The ectoplasm in the fridge still unsettles him, still reminds him of a past he can’t recall. The knife beneath his mattress has returned to the kitchen — he doesn’t need it. He found a box in the attic last year, it had his name on it, and inside he found familiar, strange clothes, and more weapons than he thought was possible to carry on one person. 

(Even without knowing that the Fentons prefer guns to blades, Danny knows, instinctively, that they were his weapons. He was — was? Is — a dangerous person. He takes the box down to his room to sort through. The weapons all fit into his callused hands almost perfectly — the grooves worn to fit his palm. They’re just a little small.) 

(He tentatively takes a small blade with him to school one day, and feels much more comfortable with it sheathed beneath his shirt. He’s kept it on him ever since, like he’s reunited a lost limb to himself.)   

Danny doesn’t have a name for his person, his little brother, nor does he have a name for his beloved mother. He’s haunted by dreams every few weeks, many of them repeating. He’s ingrained the words he can remember to memory, and the ones he doesn’t, he writes down in his journal. His little brother; Danny calls him a bird, he can’t figure out what kind. His little bird of some kind; when Danny takes something from their father — what, he can’t remember what — then his little brother will be a little bird. 

(He doesn’t have a name for his brother, yet, but he’s calling his birdie in his head. It’s better than nothing.)

—------

Seeker, do you ever come to wonder

If what you're looking for is within where you hold

Will you leave a trail for them to follow a path

You'll soon forget

Home

—---------

When he’s fourteen, Danny dies. It does nothing to fix his fractured memories, much to his consternation. It just confirms something he already knows; that he was someone dangerous, and that he still is. 

When the shock of death has worn off, Danny inspects his ghost in the metal reflection of the closest table. It’s blurry, hard to see, but shock green eyes pierce back at him, green like the portal. Lazarus, Danny’s mind whispers, and he blinks rapidly.

‘Lazarus,’ he mouths to himself. It’s familiar. Sam shows him with her phone what he looks like, joking that he looks like an assassin. Danny doesn’t think she’s that too far off. 

He doesn’t tell her that. He tucks the thought away with the rest of his secrets, and fiddles with the hood gathering at his neck, attached to a cape with torn edges swinging down to his ankles. He pulls it over his shock white hair. It shadows over his face impossibly so, until all you can see are his green-green eyes peering out like a wolf hiding in the brush.

He ends up calling himself Phantom. 

(Maybe now he can start putting lyrics to his lullabies; his memories may not have returned, locked away with the sound of a clock, but the dead can talk. One of them may just have answers.) 

----------

Home is where we are

Home is where you are

Home is where I am

-----------------

Dedicated to @gascansposts for being the one who introduced me to the band Yaelokre, and thus being the whole reason I was inspired to write this in the first place >:] Those lyrics at the line breaks are all from their album Hayfields.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc crossover #dpdc #danyal al ghul au #amnesiac danyal al ghul au #songs in order of the album: the hartebeest / harpy hare / and the hound / neath the grove is a heart #musician danny has my heart and soul #yes this danyal IS an alternative danny from the other au. an au where things were a little better :) but still sucks #implied good mom talia al ghul #danyal is a momma's boy send tweet #dpxdc ficlet #dpxdc prompts #dp x dc au #dp x dc fanfic #danyal is sTILL five years older than damian in this au #no beta no edits we die like danny fenton #poc danny fentons #i didnt know where to end this :(( i was gonna go on but i blanked. i thought about going into his relationships with his rogues and so on. #but that felt too much like trying to just increase the word count rather than actually writing?? if that makes sense #ugh im gonna have forgotten to include things and im gonna be kicking myself later #morally ambiguous danny whoo! we love to see it #since this was just for fun it doesnt really go into it all that much other than like. it happens. and that danny realizes he's dangerous #phantom in a hazmat suit? nah phantom looking like an assassin >:]. #danyal al ghul with damian and his mom: 🥰🌸✨ #danyal al ghul with everyone else: 👹🔪 #am i heavily implying that clockwork had smth to do with Danyal’s amnesia and appearance by the cabin? 👀 maybe #not enough danyal al ghul aus where him being an assassin actually. has some kind of affect on him

[prolibytherium]

Cuz I know you man! Also you casually mention RPGs like, a weird amount.

(The Gang Tends Bar themed carfire for @its-always-ziney-in-philadelphia Valentines Zine)

#iasip #mac macdonald #dennis reynolds #sketches #I will be real: I hoped this would come out goofier than it actually did and was in agony for much of the process. Enjoy! #I had a fun time drawing the fire though #Also I had this thing I did to cope where every time I was getting distracted/frustrated I would write down whatever #song lyrics or TV lines I was hearing at the moment on a designated layer (the full image with all layers visible is pretty funny) #but I didn't alwlays remember to switch the layers and had to go through and do a final sweep of removing shit I put on visible layers #and I missed one before submitting it so there is a line from 'The Carpet Crawlers' by Genesis very faint on part of the truck LOL

[bananasofthorns]

“He betrayed your trust and you aren’t more upset?" Helsknight scoffs. "Pathetic.” Wels rolls his eyes. “It’s a death game, Helsknight, that’s kind of the whole point. I should’ve seen this coming, honestly.” “You’re naive.” “Iskall’s my friend. It’s not naive to trust him.” “He broke that trust!” “Well, yes, and I plan to get him back for that someday, but also: it’s a death game. We all agreed to it. I’m not mad at him for killing me, I just wish he’d been a bit more upfront about it.” If he’d been more obvious about trying to kill Wels, then maybe Wels wouldn’t be dead, also. But Iskall’s whole goal was to kill him, so he can understand the deception. “You’re infuriating.” Wels shrugs. He generally tries not to be, but in this instance, he finds that he doesn’t mind. “Maybe so. Look, can we finish this later? I need to go get my stuff back from Iskall, and your presence would probably freak him out.”

you know when you get to that point of dealing with intrusive/self deprecating/etc thoughts that you're just like. "yeah okay. consider: you're stupid and wrong. also: go away, i'm busy"? that should be wels and hels

read on Ao3

#they should be worsties i think #welsknight #helsknight #hermitcraft season 10 #banana made a post #banana writes things #i have been getting back into hermitcraft. more specifically the -elsknights #this is part of a larger fic that asks: #what If wels had actually brought back hels for demise? #except it's more like. what if your evil doppelganger slash sentient intrusive thoughts was so annoying that you went #will you shut up and leave me alone if i let you kill some people for fun and games

[botanautical]

'We all yearn for the woods. That's why every fellow on this island wants to settle down near a tree - just one will do.'

#dazai osamu #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bsd #bsd fanart #it's dazai day!! #i wish this insufferable fictional man weren't so beloved to me #but as somebody plagued by silly brain issues he is oddly comforting and makes me feel less alone #and bsd introduced me to actual dazai osamu whose writing is honestly groundbreaking to me and i've barely even scratched the surface #it's something about the confluence of humour and tragedy... the desire to exist to bring joy to others at the expense of one's own #i feel like asagiri imparted this notion well onto bsd dazai - i know a lot of people dislike dazai and question his motivations #but i have faith in him and believe he's pursuing good #anyway excuse the ramble! the caption is from dazai's short story 'monkey island'! thank you to my dear partner for finding it for me!! #i'm really very happy with how this piece turned out - i wanted to depict bsd dazai but really pay suitable homage to his namesake #it's been a while since i've had fun drawing but this one and other recent pieces this month have really brought me back into it #happy birthday dazai #botanautical

[skyward-floored]

I still hold that this part from this fic is one of the funniest things I’ve ever written

#woozy Time is hysterical actually #rambles from the floor #linkeduniverse #linked universe #honestly it’s probably just one of the funniest fics I’ve ever written anyway #gosh I just reread the whole thing and bjnjfdvbfsgch #I crammed so many references in there too #I can just tell I had fun writing it lol

[rheakira]

My personal take on the Kindness soul, a sweet kid named Robin. (She/They) 💚

Robin was the child to fall right before Clover did and was their motivation for hunting for all of the missing humans in the first place. Two very good friends that tragically lost each other much too soon.

Bonus Art and some info on her below! 💕

First, the last art of Clover and Robin, now without the ghost-ness!

Now for some notes and headcanons:

Robin is 13 years old. So is Clover.

Came from a troubled household where she wasn't very loved or cared for. Robin and Clover had this in common and would meet to check on each other and play games/explore the woods to forget for a while.

Used to live with her grandmother, who was a very sweet and caring woman that taught her everything she knows when it comes to cooking. When her grandmother passed away, she was put under the care of her aunt, who only took her in for the checks she gets out of her as a right of custody.

A very talented chef. Robin is a natural improviser when cooking and has made a lot of interesting and delicious recipes as a result. They used this talent to make healing foods while they were underground.

Possibly spent the longest time with Toriel out of all of the kids at about a month or so. Living years with a guardian that didn't love her made her quickly attach to one that did care for her.

Ended up leaving the Ruins by mistake after being too curious of the exit and getting herself locked out. She wasn't able to wait for Toriel to find her as she had to avoid getting caught by Royal Guard sentries. (This one mistake eventually led to Robin's demise, even if she did have an adventure before her inevitable end.)

#UTY #UTDR OC #Clover UTY #Kindness Soul #Frisk Undertale #UTDR #Doodles #I've actually been sitting on that first art for a while which is why it looks kinda different from the rest lol #Robin is very dear to my heart I had a lot of fun designing her and writing up her story #Expect more of these two in the future! #I have characters for all 6 souls so I'll be sharing them overtime #Robin

[skitskatdacat63]

Fernando Alonso & His Relationship With Cards

I'm sure we're all familar with the cards on the back of Fernando's Vegas GP helmet by now, but did you know his relationship with cards goes a lot deeper?

I. Magic Tricks

You've probably seen or heard someone at least mention Fernando's propensity for card tricks. As far as I can tell he was doing them(publically) as far back as 2003 all the way to as recently as 2018. Even once performing a card trick, with a condom and a teddy bear(!??!?!??!!), in front of Valentino Rossi who said "How was that possible?"(x)

But how did this start? According to James Allen, "Fernando admits to having been heavily influenced by his grandfather, a mercurial figure, who taught him magic and card tricks, still one of his passions away from the race track."(x) And I'm not sure the validity of this one, because I couldn't find an actual source, but apparently he once said: "My parents are responsible for the two things I like doing most - driving and magic tricks. They bought me my first go-kart and a magician's kit."

In several interviews he described it as his hobby off track, and that he loved learning new tricks and surprising others in the garage with them! So clearly cards are pretty important to him both as a hobby but also to who he is as a person since they've been with him just as long as racing has.

II. Card Symbolism in His Helmets

This is the reason I originally made this post, but I thought I should also explain the origins of his card fascination first. As I said, we probably all remember the cards on the back of his helmet in Vegas, but did you know that wasn't the first time he had cards on the back of his helmet?

From 2008-2013, he used to have a pair of cards on the back of his helmets. The symbolisms of the cards themselves as well as the evolution of their design is really fascinating to me! Even more so with the recent development of the card choice in 2023.

Fernando said he wanted to reference his two titles in some way on the back of his helmet and after his friend sent him several ideas, he decided on having two cards(an ace of clubs and an ace of hearts, sometimes pictured with 05 and 06 on them as well), saying: "I picked the cloverleaf [the ace of clubs - Ed] to give me luck, but the only pity is that it doesn't have four leaves!"(X)

2008.

Here's the very first appearance of the cards! They're displayed flat, with the 05 and 06 clearly visible

2009.

Very similar to 2008, but with a slightly different design, and they're maybe a bit more straight with less shadow?

2010.

This is the first major change! I was sad they didn't have the years on them anymore, but then I realized they're sparkly to match with his signature lightning bolts on the top of the helmet!!

2011.

Honestly I'm still somewhat unsure if this is the actual 2011 helmet? It's pretty difficult to find clear photos of the back of helmets from older seasons. It's easiest to find them on replica sites or auction sites so I'm not 100%? But anyways, I like that this has the championship years on the underside of the cards

2012.

This is when I started getting weirdly emotional about the helmets. Do you see how they've progressed from being a centerpoint to being curled up and sad at the bottom of the helmet? Not listing the year anymore??

2013.

Same thoughts as 2012. And after this season, they cease to exist (just like his ferrari chair in the garage, WOAH CALLBACK), until cards make a reeappearance in his Vegas helmet, albeit in a different form

2013 Monaco(Honorable Mention):

For some reason 2013 helmets were easier to find proper pictures of, so I happened to witness this absolute beauty. The creativity of this helmet genuinely blows me away??? Wanting to keep the card motif, but making sure to incorporate it into the rest of the puzzle piece design?? Mwah! There was another special 2013 helmet but they didn't change the cards at all so I really applaud this one

2023 Las Vegas(The Return of The King):

The magnificent return! But look! The cards are different cards! Instead of being two aces, it's now an ace of hearts, a four of hearts(his driver number of course!) and, the, now iconic, representation of himself as a Joker. I literally could not believe my eyes when this helmet was released and I saw the Joker card, what a fucking silly old man....I really wonder if he felt nostalgic having cards on his helmet again or if he didn't think about it all and was just like, "ah cards because Vegas!!!"

III. Why Does This Matter?

*The rest of the post was factual, this is moreso my personal thoughts on the symbolism of the cards/designs

This post spawned from me recently watching the 2010 Bahrain gp and noticing "hey wait a minute...are those CARDS ON THE BACK OF HIS HELMET!?" It's a really tiny detail that's unfortunately covered up by the HANS device pretty much whenever he's wearing the helmet, so it's really difficult to spot! But I became fascinated with the fact that he had cards on his helmet before that recent helmet, and now here we are!

There's something to me about how the design of the cards evolves over the course of six seasons from the cards being front and center to being smaller, more folded up and closer to the bottom of the helmet. As I said, the 2012-2013 ones genuinely made me depressed because it feels, symbolically, like his hopes for getting another Ace are becoming more and more unlikely and falling away until they eventually fall falt and fade away entirely after 2013 and disappear for basically a decade.

But when they return? They're not the same cards! Instead of representing Fernando's championships, they now represent him as a person, displaying his driver number and his persona of being a Joker!! Though I do think it's interesting he happened to keep the Ace of Hearts, even though he talked more about the Ace of Clubs before. I'm not sure it's actually this deep in reality, but I like to think that it's him not letting his championships(and the lack thereof) define him, but rather letting who he is as a person shine and be the centerpoint instead! But on a sadder note, as @suzuki-ecstar said to me, maybe the Aces aren't there anymore because he's lost all hope for a chance at a third Ace entirely :(

#yes its finals week and im up to my eyes in coursework but instead decided to spend like 5 hours researching and writing this post #nah bcs i actually genuinely put more work into this then I think I have all semester dsfjdskjg #that thing about him using a condom and teddy bear in a magic trick genuinely had me crying with laugher. actual tears rolling down my face #<- HOW!?!? WHAT WAS THE TRICK?? its literally inconceivable to me what he did. oh if only there were pics UGH #anyways!! this post was a lot of fun to make!! i really really love the symbolism and design of helmets so this was a rly fun project #and i also went down a lot of rabbitholes while make this and saw many very weird articles from yore #i feel like i make an equal amnt of deranged posts abt seb and nando but i dont know why nando is gifted w all my well researched projects #<- i.e. chair post. that was the same level of research as this one but at least this one i could find actual sources about.... #idk theres smth about the extremely long history of nando's history that evokes research posts like this KLAJSLSKDJ #theres just so much that i dont think I ever really see people discussing! so i must create. #haha what was that joke tag i wanted to make abt my researched posts? I think: #normal posts that catie normally makes in a normal fashion #<- one day ill go back and actually tag posts w that. bcs the amtn of research compared to my actual schoolwork is so unwell #fernando alonso #fa14 #f1 #formula 1 #catie.rambling.txt #we do a little bit of f1

[fallen6253]

They're all love stories:

Could you imagine loving someone so much that you would break down their door and tell them to live with a ferocity that surpasses rabid animals? Ask them to stay with a fragile voice bound to break any second?

Ending a world so they could have a place in it because they couldn't save themselves?

Choosing them, every time, over everything else?

And it is a choice, you make it every time. Because they make you feel alive in ways that scare you sometimes. Because they ignite a fire in you that was supposed to die with you. You were supposed to be cold. But they warm you, and they burn you, and you want to keep the fire close.

Could you imagine loving so deeply that you choose to burn like Icarus?

To keep going.

To be selfish enough to want someone else to live.

To love someone so much that you rip the stars from their place in the sky, tear apart fate like a paper you would burn, unravel the universe to create their epilogue. You die to live with them, you kill all futures where they are not there. You stab your own heart thinking it doesn't matter, they are your soul.

To love someone so much you choose the worst path for yourself, for your loved ones, for your world, because you have to wade through bramble and broken glass with nothing but bleeding cuts and the deceptive smell of roses to see them. You have to ignore their protests and all the pain because if you doubt yourself for one second, they will slip through your hands and run off to die without you. And you promise that you want to live with them, that if they could make it, so could you. Through everything.

Could you imagine loving someone so much that you endure?

#orv #lcf #lotcf #sctir #tged #i think #writing #angst #sorry I was feeling some type of way and just #made this #omniscient reader's viewpoint #trash of the count's family #kim dokja #yoo joonghyuk #han sooyoung #kim rok soo #han yoojin #a lot actually #I won't tag all of them #et cetera #love #these are all love stories #romantic or otherwise #don't know if this is any good #but i had fun

[willowser]

one thousand lonely stars, hiding in the cold—

android!shouto x reader

wc: 2k+

tags: angst, cyberpunk dystopian setting, financial vulnerability, explicit language, minor mention of sex work + sex workers, reader has strong/conflicting feelings about their situation, and — as always — the question of true humanity.

notes: what a great opportunity this was for me to continue exploring this idea !! tysm to @shoto-brainrot for not only giving me the chance, but also for being such a support and helping me to figure out all this commission jazz !! i so appreciate you, and i hope you enjoy it ! 🩷

original post

You’ve yet to find out what caused the damage to Shouto’s faceplate.

By the time you discovered him outside the credit exchange, he had been busted open and left for—whatever the equivalent of dead is for an android. A gaping hole in the left side of his disturbingly human face exposed his inner circuitry to the rain and you think that should have finished him off, truly, but—he's still kicking. 

Technology in the lower district is distinct. The most careful hands could have crafted him down in the best underground salvage yard and he still wouldn't have lasted half an hour with his face submerged in a shallow mud puddle like that. Wiring would have been shot, fuses blown.

Even if the Todoroki Corporation symbol on his wrist wasn't glowing, a blinking light in time with his would-be heart, you'd know what he is. You'd know he didn't belong down here, beneath the smog, in the industrial bones of your dying city.

And yet—

The left side of Shouto's face took the brunt of whatever blow he'd been dealt, and the scarring—if it's even called that?—has extended down over his cheekbone and backward, so violently that his ear had only barely been hanging on. Without the bandage you've wrapped him up in, he's quite a sight: half a tangled mess of wires and pins, a dull cyan light glowing in his orbital socket. With the wrapping, however, he’s almost exactly as he was meant to be: seamless.

The fate of his detached ear had been unknown. Until this morning.

It still works, much to your surprise, learning so only after wondering aloud the whereabouts of your data docket and hearing Shouto answer from across the apartment. Whoever put him together, you realize, took great care to make him durable, adamantine; the carbon nanotubes and polymer arrays that make up his cochlea were hardly affected by the assault.

Someone—or something—meant to harm him, and you know that for certain, now. Such wreckage couldn’t have happened naturally, not to a Skin-Puppet like him.

(When you look at him, you can’t help but consider his creator. How far he is from them and why. If the hands that made him and the hands that ruined him are the same, if he meant to leave or if he was cast out. You haven’t asked, but it’s odd that a machine could keep such information to himself—itself.)

(Given the brutality behind his mutilation, perhaps it’s best you don’t know the answers.)

Working tech from the richer district—KōkyōLuxuria, above the smog, built high into the clouds—could not only earn you enough to eat this week, but also to pay off all your debts to the League. Maybe even finance a decent apartment a few stories up.

And that’s why you’re here: racing through the slums in the rain, doing your damndest to make this sale before time runs out and you’re forced to find another buyer. Coming across a Hack with 1,640,254 credits in their docket is rare; who knows when you’ll find someone from the Trade in Musutafu sector again? You’re likely to sooner perish—either from your empty stomach or that broker that demanded payment two days ago.

Shouto, however, doesn’t see the urgency.

“Hello, handsome! Awful cold out tonight…care to warm me up?”

“Oh, hello.”

At the even, all-too-friendly lilt in his voice, you halt your sprint again, and spin around with a hiss. “Shouto!” You snap—but it comes too late; the Entertainers have struck like lightning, already scrambling his code. 

Out of habit, you’d pulled the hood of his sweatshirt up over his head before leaving the apartment, and now the material separates his image from view—though you can easily imagine the pleasant expression showing on his face, illuminated in pink under the NanotechNymph advertisement.

At his easily captured interest, two women strut from the open doors of the low-lit den, all allure and swaying hips, mirage flickering beneath the heavy rain. They only meet him halfway—too far from the emanator deep within the club—and you dash forward to stop him from wordlessly accepting their offer. You can’t afford to owe anyone any more than you already do.

“Shouto,” you say again, mouth twisting when he looks at you simply. Despite the hood, his bandage grows dark from the rain and—despite his framework, worry fluxes in your stomach at the thought of him getting too wet. “We have to go.”

“Aww,” an Entertainer says to you, girlish pout pulling down her full lips. “You don’t want to come inside and play with us?”

“No,” you try not to look at them any longer, just in case that racks up a charge, too. Rock solid as he is, Shouto allows himself to be steered away, much to your relief. “Buzz off, holo-ham.”

“I’d like to play.” Shouto pipes up, peeking behind his shoulder when the girls squeal in excitement. “Can we come back once we’ve finished?”

“Not for that kind of play.” You put a hand on the back of his head and swivel it, all while shoving him down the sidewalk. You almost remark on how man-like he’s acting, before chasing the thought away.

“What other types of play are there?”

“Just—hush.” 

And he does, finally, when you loop your arm through his: a presumably innocent gesture that draws his attention fully back to you, as physical touch seems to do, with him. Beneath the material of the jacket, he feels natural, all muscle and bone, even leaning into you as if the weather has made him cold. You can feel him tracing your face with his one-eyed gaze—scanning you—and you pretend not to notice.

“Your heart rate has gone up. Have I made you angry?”

“Yes,” you tell him, though he hasn’t, really. “You and your curiosity are gonna make me late, and then we’ll be in some serious shit.”

He looks away then, down to the soaked pavement, a mimicry of disappointment. From the corner of your eye, you can see his manufactured Adam’s apple bob, and the muscle beneath your hand shifts.

“They seemed nice, the holograms.” He says, and you can’t help the soft snort such a comment merits. 

“Yeah, they’re nice, alright, until you can’t pay them.”

Shouto looks at you once again, stride threatening to falter until you tug him along. “Do you know them?”

You already know where he’s going with his question, and the corner of his lips quirk up when you cast him a filthy look. “Well, no, but—”

“Then how do you know—”

“I just do, alright?” You frown at him and he accepts it in full, studying once more. Whatever he finds in your expression amuses enough that he’s placated for the moment, though you know it won’t be long before he’s piping up again.

He does it often—studies you: body language, physiological changes, speech patterns, vocal cues. Human behavior he catalogs and streams to someone back at the Corporation headquarters, finding the miniscule details he can use against you, some day. Whatever the reason behind his damage, he is still a product of his evil overlords, made for reasons you can only imagine. 

This is what you tell yourself. 

As his fingers shift until their smooth pads are brushing the delicate veins in your wrists, as he tightens his arm around yours when another stranger on the streets knocks your shoulder, as he leans into the warmth of your humanness: this is what you tell yourself.

You’re overcome with a sense of loss and you don’t know why, and you clear the strange lump hardening in your throat. “Life lesson number six, Todoroki,” you murmur it closely to him, nearly into the fabric at his shoulder, though he doesn’t react to the name. “Everybody wants something from someone, holo-hams included.”

Shouto seems to process your words, for a moment, and his face is expressionless when you steal a peek up at him. Technicolor rains down on your both, swathing him in a wild array as advertisements dance on the buildings that tower above you, and again you think of his creator. The careful hands that crafted his smooth cheeks, the sharp line of his nose, the leanness of his body. You wonder if he’s ever been deemed precious.

Nearly all of the residents relegated to the lower districts owe the Todoroki Corporation in some way. Be it through credit loans or applied interest rates on subsidized housing or hidden costs and high premiums on mandatory, shit insurance—Enji Todoroki sits in the lap of KōkyōLuxuria, has probably never even stepped down from his pedestal. 

There’s no good reason a product of his could have found its way to you: this is what you tell yourself.

“And you want my ear.” Shouto says, looking back down at you as your shoulders tense. There isn’t a byte of hostility in his voice, but he must understand the sharpness to what he’s saying.

“Yes,” you admit with a nod, and some underlying, rogue streak of guilt has you pressing into him, as if your proximity could make up for your selfishness. “The sensors in your ear are gonna pay for our dinner tonight, handsome.”

His stride falters once more, and despite the time clock ticking in the back of your mind—you let him stop you. Maybe you want him to. Nothing ever goes unnoticed by him and you know that and maybe it’s cruel of you to say such a thing, to offer a comfort you can’t admit to, but Shouto looks down at you in all his ruination and—

Before he can say anything, a fat drop of water hits the tip of his perfectly manufactured nose. It makes him flinch, delayed, and the surprise he wears and the scrunch of his brow seem so—human, there before you. Shouto tilts his face to the dark, smoggy sky, and again that worry bites you, about too much water trickling into his core.

“We’re going to be late,” you repeat, though it’s much weaker than it was earlier. This is one those moments in which he overrides all your defenses, uploads something warm and hopeful and frightening into your chest cavity; you can’t tell if you want to run because you have to, for the sale—or if it’s a result of watching him now, haloed in neon.

He’s not one to ignore you, but he doesn’t respond, instead retracting his arm from your grip in order to push the hood back off his head. Raindrops soak into his bandage and the excess pools, dripping down over the line of his jaw and the column of his throat. So close to him, you can see the goosebumps that break out across his skin.

(You wonder if he’s ever been deemed precious. You wonder if he meant to leave, or if he was cast out. You wonder if he was created for continued corruption—or if someone out there wanted him to experience life, no matter how rusty.)

(You wonder if he feels as human as he looks. If he can blush, or if the soft skin below his ear can bruise.)

A small sound bubbles out of him, like a light laugh of disbelief. 

You found him face down in the rain; you’re not sure why it could cause such a reaction now, but he turns to eye the commercial playing behind him, before watching the path of a man walking by the two of you. Rain collects in his perfect cupid’s bow until he licks it away, and his hair slicks to the side when he pushes it out of his face. 

Shouto turns his attention back to you rather plainly, though the edges of his smile pull up a little higher than they usually do, enough that the apples of his cheeks round. He asks you, “What’s going to be for our dinner?” and the question is oddly worded, but each one is intentional. 

Maybe it’s not the rain that amuses him—and maybe it is. Maybe it really is that simple, that innocent. Maybe it’s the microtremors in your voice and your increased heart rate, all the little details that could never go unnoticed. 

There isn’t a way that this could end well: this is what you tell yourself.

You nod once and turn to face back the way you came, resigned, before looping your arm through his again. You trace the delicate veins on the inside of his wrist, careful not to cover the slow-blinking symbol embedded there, and you decide it doesn’t matter what his creator did or didn’t want. Because he has wants of his own, just like anyone.

“Okay,” you sigh, and when you slosh through the puddles collecting on the sidewalk, Shouto seems happy to follow along, this time. “I can probably sweet talk Toyomitsu into buying us some takoyaki, but you’re gonna have to play it cool.”

“Is this the kind of play you were talking about?”

That lilt has returned to his voice, even and friendly and amused.

“No,” you swat at him to hear his little huff of laughter, “now stop asking about that.”

Of course he doesn’t.

#NOTE that this was written with fem reader in mind but i don't think it reads that way explicitly ? #i........actually had so much fun with this #i love any human x robot pairing like it's a true weakness for me #anything centering on a robot/android wanting to understand the human experience and wanting for emotion is like PEAK #i am so so thankful i got to work on this idea again i really truly enjoyed it #i wrote this while being so emotional about 'ex machina' i hope the emotion isn't too abstract LOL #✿ willow writes #✿ thoughts: shouto #✿ theme: android shouto

[pillowspace]

I feel like there could be so many cool Daycare Attendant AUs if you merged one cool idea you had with a mer AU. I think every DCA AU should have a background AU where Sun and Moon are additionally also a fish, just as a treat. Oh, a steampunk AU? Steampunk fish. A space AU? Space fish. A swap AU? Swap fish. A horror AU? Horror fish. An emotional support AU? Emotional support fish. Mermay did irreparable damage to me

#dca fandom #''a horror au'' ok i know theyre from a horror game but #FUN FACT. at the start of writing celestial sundown. i did not actually know what i was writing until i literally had to #the first plan i considered was Sun as an alien fish #dca au

[cerise-on-top]

I was the one to ask for the mortician ask and I loved it! I’m in school to become one and I just thought it would be fun since the job isn’t talked about much! So I have another request, how do you think Valeria, Laswell, Rudy, Alejandro whould act when they get jealous and/or their s/o is getting hit on? Thanks!!!!

-🍒

Hello! I'm glad you liked it! Becoming a mortician definitely sounds like a lot of work, but I'm wishing you lots of luck! May your future job be very fulfilling for you! Thank you for another request, this one was also pretty fun to do, but then again, I'm just glad I get to write for the characters people don't always write for! Especially the girls!

Alejandro, Rodolfo, Valeria and Laswell When Jealous

Alejandro: Although he knows you’re loyal and would never cheat on him, something does make his blood boil as soon as he sees someone else getting a bit too friendly with you. You’re his and his only, that’s something just about anyone crossing him will come to understand eventually. While he does not want the whole world to know you’re together, he thinks there’s nothing wrong with showing people such when he feels potentially threatened. Walks up to you, uses the most embarrassing nicknames on you and slings an arm around you. Although he usually gets over it fairly quickly, forgetting about the perpetrator as soon as they leave you alone, from time to time, when he’s had a rough day, he might hold a grudge for just a tad bit longer. Even when you’re home, he’ll be a bit more clingy than usual, always has his hands on you whenever he can. The only real reason he can think of where he doesn’t need to feel your attention on him might be when you’re using the bathroom, but other than that, you’re gonna have to deal with him. If you don’t like being touched then he’ll just be standing next to you. Any excuse to spend as much time with you as possible. You’ll get a lot more I love yous out of him, and he does want you to say them back. Alejandro is by no means an insecure person, especially not when it comes to your relationship, but it’s still nice to hear that your loved one won’t leave you for some douchebag you met in the boondocks. Reassure him still, even without being prompted to, and he’ll calm down eventually, releasing you from his grasp. You can tease him about being jealous, but, in the heat of the moment, he might be a little bit mean. He won’t lash out, but might raise his voice for a word or two before lowering it again. Give him some calming touches and spend some time with him alone and he’ll go back to being his usual self in no time, though.

Rodolfo: As soon as he sees someone flirting with you, it can go either of two ways: He’ll either stand next to you and join the conversation, making it quietly known that you’re taken, or he’ll watch for a moment, giving the perpetrator mean glares where they can see him until he thinks the conversation is taking a turn for the worse and will tell the person off. He may not be the tallest, most intimidating man if we go by looks alone, but he’s a sergeant major, he can hold his own and be scary if he needs to be. Rudy gets a bit broody once he’s properly jealous and will stay that way for some time. He gets over it on his own too, don’t worry, but it will take significantly longer if you leave him alone. He won’t mind, but he will appreciate it if you actually approach him, maybe have a chat with him about something while you’re at it. He goes quiet, fully aware he’s jealous and the fact that it’s over essentially nothing. Like Alejandro, he trusts you enough to know you’d never even consider someone that wasn’t him as long as you were together, but still. Sometimes he avoids you because he’s being childish, other times he’ll just stand next to you and try to garner your attention that way. Once you’re alone, he just wants you for himself and will try to strike up a conversation with you about anything he can think of. The more effort you put into trying to keep that conversation going, the quicker he’ll recover. Rudy isn’t a very physically affectionate person normally, but he’ll hint at how you should give him a hug and maybe a kiss too. Since he loves physical affection from the ones he’s close with, it’s a surefire way to calm him down more quickly. Put his face in between your hands, put your foreheads together, tell him how much you love him and how he’s the only one for you and you’ll get yourself a smiley, softer guy. Works like a charm.

Valeria: Not at all one for PDA, but not above telling someone to fuck off either in her usual way. Will also make death threats at the person flirting with you. If she sees you’re uncomfortable with the unwanted attention then she’ll send their remains to their family in a cardboard box. If Valeria wasn’t so scary when mad, it would be kind of funny how pissy she gets when jealous. While she knows very well that you won’t leave her, she absolutely loathes any and all competition there might be. Yes, she won’t sling her arm around you in public, yes, she will shoot anyone who looks at you a certain way for longer than two seconds. As mentioned before, she becomes cranky when jealous, but will also just seek you out. Your attention is for her to enjoy, and you’ll give it to her. If she sees you’re scared she’ll try to tone it down a little bit, but her discomfort will be made known to you. What do you even think of such lowlife? Disgusting creatures that are worth nothing, Valeria is a much better match for you in any regard. Can and absolutely will talk your ear off. Not very insecure either, but insects should stay away from you, in her humble and honest opinion. Behind closed doors you can be a bit more physically affectionate with her, drape yourself over her and use her lap like a throne, singing her praise. This is among the few times where she won’t mind too much physical affection. The more the better, the more you adore her the more easily she’ll return to being her usual, mocking self. When she’s jealous she won’t mock you, she’ll mock whoever made her jealous and be so incredibly mean about it, it’s honestly a bit concerning. However, you get to hear her use more Spanish words to better articulate what she means. Just smile and nod, even if you don’t exactly know what she’s talking about, she appreciates you listening. Agreeing with her is also a good way of calming her down, as well as ensuring that person might live to see another day.

Laswell: Although she’s not a big fan of PDA either, when she can feel the anger bubble up inside of her, she’ll actually put a hand on your shoulder or grab your wrist. Just small gestures that show you’re close with her. Might drag you away if she genuinely does not like that person. But if she’s just jealous because you’re not talking to her, which, granted, barely ever happens, then she’ll just watch the conversation unfold for a bit before butting in. If you weren’t enjoying yourself in the first place, you can count on her to get you away from the creep. If you were having fun, then you can just talk it out like adults, she prefers it that way too, actually. When she’s properly jealous she’ll withdraw herself. While she might not actively avoid you, she tries not to get in your way. Being jealous over essentially nothing is childish, and she’s an older woman, so she really has no reason to act that way. Might become a bit more passive aggressive towards you, but she really means nothing by it. But for that to happen she needs to be extremely ticked off and jealous, otherwise she’ll just keep her usual cool. In her case, since she, in general, isn’t a big fan of too much physical affection, being overly physically affectionate with her might just annoy her some more. Show her your affection through the smaller things, such as baking her a pie or just trying to engage in conversation with her. Even though she’ll love it when you simply sit next to her in silence as well. You want to spend time with her instead of other people, she can recognise that. Laswell appreciates that tremendously. You can also just give her some chocolate if you want to make her feel better. Doesn’t even need to be anything big or fancy, but some pralines definitely wouldn’t hurt. Overall she’s just glad you’d rather spend time with her than some stranger who could never treat you as well as she treats you. You both recognise that, you can both work from there, and you can both be calmer and happier knowing that.

#cod #cod x reader #alejandro vargas #alejandro vargas x reader #rodolfo parra #rodolfo parra x reader #valeria garza #valeria garza x reader #kate laswell #kate laswell x reader #so sleepy again today #but hey! Las Almas gang and Laswell! Heck yeah! #I had to write this since it's a good idea with some good characters! #plus I get to get a better feel for Rudy like this as well! #though I'm also really looking forward to tomorrow's request as well since it sounds like a pretty fun one #anything with König and speaking German is good in my book #if I understood the assignment correctly which I am not actually sure of! #either way have a nice day anon! #also cool emoji! I absolutely adore cherries! definitely among my favorite fruits!